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strawberrysturniolo · 5 months

Note

chris and the reader hate eachother but end up having to share a hotel bed

just tonight // chris sturniolo

summary: a trip with your friends turns into a hotel reservation mishap and having to share a bed with someone you hate part 2

It’s no secret that Nick Sturniolo is my best friend.

It’s no secret that Matt Sturniolo is like a brother to me.

And it is no fucking surprise to anyone how knows me and the youngest Sturniolo that Chris Sturniolo is the one person above all that makes me want to rip my hair out strand by strand.

I don’t even know how it all happened. It’s like it was meant to be. I don’t remember a time in my life where me and Chris Sturniolo weren’t bickering, throwing shit at each other, or calling each other foul insults.

To others, it is another form of entertainment to see our arguments in person, but to Nick and Matt, it’s the bane of their existence.

Their brother is mine.

Which is why I am more than shocked to hear that the four of us are heading on a trip to San Diego with no one else to help break up fights.

With Matt driving us, Chris sits in the passenger seat, blasting music that no one has a say on. Matt bops his head to a few songs, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with one, Chris changes it mid song.

“Hang on, I have a better one,” he says every single time.

Nick sits next to me, half asleep with chunky headphones over his ears, blocking out the sound of his brother’s music taste. I wish I could say I’m doing the same, but my airpods died 20 minutes into the drive, so I’m stuck in the backseat staring out the window, contemplating throwing myself onto the highway at 80 miles per hour.

We make a few stops along the way despite it being only around a two hour drive.

The first was for some food.

The second was because Chris ran out of his drink and insisted that he needed to stop for more.

The third was because Chris decided to dump his drink on me, so I had to change into something I had packed.

The fourth was because Chris then faced his consequences and had nothing to drink, making Matt stop again. He promised he wouldn’t spill it this time.

Then a fifth time because Chris had to pee.

When we finally arrived at the hotel, we dragged our few bags inside and made our way to the front desk.

“Hi,” Nick said to the woman. His eyes were droopy as he had just woken up, so he rubbed them a bit before continuing. “It’s under Sturniolo. Four rooms on the same floor.”

The young woman’s eyebrows cinched together, almost like she was worried she had made a mistake.

“The reservation is for three rooms,” she says instead, making Chris step forward like he is going to correct her. “And they are on different floors.”

“Woah, woah,” Chris interrupts, shaking his head. “I know you’re just doing your job, but we definitely put in four rooms. I don’t think anyone minds that we are on different floors, but we’re going to need a fourth room if that’s what we paid for.”

The woman’s eyes scatter across her screen before she frowns slightly. “I’m really sorry, but we don’t have any other rooms available.”

Chris spins around, tossing his hands up slightly. “What are we going to do?”

“Why can’t one of you share a room?” I suggest the obvious.

Nick jumps in first. “If you guys want me to edit all your shit, then I need my own room. I won’t be able to focus and get it done if there’s someone else.”

“Okay,” I nod, knowing he has work to do. “Then Chris can stay with Matt.”

Chris’ face scrunches in disgust. “No way. He snores.”

I roll my eyes at his childish answer. “We don’t have any other options right now.”

“One of us is going to half to share with her,” Matt concludes. Chris makes a face as if to say ‘Not me!’

I scoff at how they’re talking about me while I’m standing right here. “Hello! Why can’t I get my own room since I’m the only girl!”

I’m ignored.

“Let’s play rock paper scissors for the room,” Matt suggests, making Chris roll up his sweatshirt sleeves as if he’s preparing.

Matt wins.

Chris’ eyes shoot open. “Best two out of three.”

“Nope,” Matt says as he grabs his room key off the desk and heads to the elevator.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mumble, walking behind Chris and following him to our shared room.

I would have been quiet so Nick could work, but he was so adamant about being alone that I never even got the chance to suggest that alternative. This stupid room situation is just the fucking icing on the cake after the car ride with Chris. It’s no surprise that my luck would put me in the same room as him somehow.

I brace myself for when Chris opens the door, expecting only one thing because it’s the obvious, but I still pray for a miracle.

No miracle.

There’s one bed.

I toss my bags on the bed before he can. “Dibs,” I call out immediately.

Chris kicks his shoes off. “That’s not fair. How are you gonna dibs a bed? Where am I supposed to sleep?”

I point to the balcony. “Out there. Just pray a rabid squirrel doesn’t bite you while you sleep.”

He fake smiles at me. “Very funny. You’re lucky I’m too fucking tired after the ride to argue with you.” He flashes his phone screen at me, revealing the time. 2:12 a.m. We left at night to try to beat any traffic and so we could have an extra full day in San Diego. “Let’s just go to bed and hope we’re too tired to realize what a shitty situation this is.”

I dig out some clothes from inside a duffel bag I brought, trying to find something to wear as pajamas. Since I was under the assumption I would be in my own room, I didn’t pack any pajama shorts or even athletic shorts that would do the job. I usually just sleep with a big shirt and underwear, and this was certainly not what I was anticipating.

I let out a sigh and turn around to face Chris. I hate asking for his help.

“Do you have any shorts or sweatpants I can wear to bed?”

He looks at me like he’s confused by my question. His tiny brain cells can usually only handle sentences with five words or less.

“Why didn’t you pack any?” he asks me instead.

“Because I normally sleep half naked, which I’m not doing with you here. So can I please wear shorts or something of yours to bed?”

He grins. “Say please again and maybe I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll scrub the toilet with your toothbrush while you sleep,” I threaten.

He reaches down and tosses me a pair of his boxers. “I would give you basketball shorts but they wouldn’t fit you. Plus I only have my celtics ones and they’re too nice for you to fuck up.”

I take his boxers and stand with my clothes in my hands, looking at him.

He looks at me like he has a problem with me. “Do you need anything else?” he says in a snippy tone.

“Go to the bathroom,” I instruct him.

“Why?”

“So I can change?” I say as a question, shocked and confused at how stupid he can be sometimes.

He rolls his eyes and crouches to his bag. “I’m not fucking looking. Just change.”

In an attempt to withhold us from fighting in the first ten minutes of us being here, I sigh and turn around, facing the curtains covering the window. I peel my shirt off and toss it on a chair, putting on an old t-shirt instead. I turn around quickly, making sure Chris isn’t watching. He’s sitting on his phone. I yank my pants off and tug on his boxers before he has a chance to peek.

“You done?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’ll go to the bathroom so you can change.”

I grab my toiletries bag so I can brush my teeth and wash my face while I’m in there, but as I make my way to the door, Chris steps in front of me. Looking at me, he pulls his shirt off from over his head. “That’s all I have to do. Now I’m dressed for bed.”

Do not look at his body. Do NOT look at his body.

“I still have to go to the bathroom,” I say anyway.

He gestures his hands to my destination and follows me in, brushing his teeth alongside me and watching me as I do my skincare. Before I have a chance to snap at him and tell him to go away, he does just that. I almost ask him why he did leave, throwing myself off. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.

He’s laying on our bed. I have to remind myself that this is just a shitty situation before sliding in next to him, still keeping a distance. We sit in silence for some time, both of us still scrolling aimlessly on our phones, trying to distract ourselves so we don’t have to talk. Finally, I have enough of the silence, and I am suddenly on the hunt for answers.

I turn over in bed, now facing him. He side eyes me as he notices my change in position. “Do you need something else?” he asks.

“Why are you so mean to me?”

He lowers his phone from his gaze momentarily as he thinks. He settles on, “You’re mean to me too.”

“It’s different,” I argue.

“This is just how I am,” he continues. “I act this way with my brothers. Maybe you’re just not used to it yet.”

“It’s still different, Chris.”

He shrugs, not saying anything else, so I do.

“I feel like we could get along well but you don’t give me the chance. You never noticed we have the same taste in music and a lot of other similar interests? It’s like you don’t want to admit we could have something in common and I don’t know why.”

“I’m not petty like that,” he says instead. “I’m not going to blow you off because I don’t want us to have the same interests.”

“Then what is it,” I continue to push him.

“Can you just shut up and go to bed?” he snaps.

I seriously couldn’t have had a worse roommate.

I turn over, finding myself back in silence.

“Are you going to need my boxers every night while we’re here?” he asks.

“I mean, this is all I’ve got, so yeah,” I answer without turning around.

It’s silent for a good 30 seconds before Chris breaks it.

“Why don’t you just keep them?”

My eyebrows furrow, my expression bold even though he can’t see my face. “Why?”

“They look good,” he mumbles.

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

“I literally didn’t doofus that’s why I said huh?”

“I said they look good on you!”

My stomach flips.

Motherfucker.

“You want me to keep them?” I ask for clarification.

“I’m just trying to be nice,” he defends. “Don’t try to make it something it’s not. But even if I was trying to turn it into something else, you know you look good.”

Oh my god.

No, he needs to stop.

I turn around so I can face him again. “You think I look good?”

He rolls his eyes so hard this time that his head shifts. “Oh shut up.”

The more I stare at him to try to dissect his answer, the more I see his face turning a darker shade of red.

“Oh my god! You’re blushing!” I tease.

He sits up straight. “Am not!”

“You are too!” I laugh, pointing at him.

He smacks my hand away. “Stop it!”

Everything suddenly clicks. Every time he was mean to me. Every time he called me names.

But there were also the times he would stand in a corner with eyes shooting daggers when I would talk about a guy.

Everything makes sense.

“You like me,” I piece together.

“Do not,” he lies. “You wish.”

“I don’t have to wish because you do!”

“You’re being childish,” he says, bold coming from him.

“Just admit it so I can go to bed.”

Without an answer he shoves his hand into my shoulder, pushing me away from him. I do the same back, but when I expect him to do it again, he grabs my wrist and yanks me towards him instead.

We both halt before our faces touch.

I watch him gulp.

“Tell me not to do it,” he practically begs.

I know exactly what he’s talking about. I know we shouldn’t but I sort of just want to know what would happen. Would anything come out of it? Would we both decide it was stupid and we won’t talk about it ever again and swear it won’t leave this hotel room.

“I could do it instead,” I suggest.

He clearly doesn’t expect this from me. His eyes were somewhere else until I finished my sentence. That’s when they flew to meet mine.

He gives me one last look before grabbing my cheeks and pulling me into him. I fall forward, wrapping my arms around him for support before my lips settle into his. We mesh together perfectly, a long peck before our lips part and he’s trying to snake his tongue into my mouth. I let him, and I don’t even notice when one of my hands rakes through his hair.

One of his hands drifts down my body, clinging to my waist. His thumb plays with the band of his own underwear hugging my body.

I don’t know how long we have been doing this. All I’m focusing on is the few sounds that come out of our mouths, little moans and deep breaths, others being the sound of our lips fighting for dominance. Then there’s the sound of slight creaks in the bed as we shift around.

I’m caught by surprise when he pulls me into his lap, but thank god he does. I don’t move around on him. I don’t grind my hips into his. I don’t try to feel how big he is underneath his clothing.

I sit there with my arms around him, a lustful makeout turning into soft kisses again as he holds my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my face.

I pull away for a moment to catch my breath, and I watch his face fall.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I shouldn’t have done that. Oh my god that was so fucking stupid.” He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, but all I’m focused on is how his biceps flexed in the process.

I pull his arms back down, a measly excuse to have my hands on the toned muscle, but also to comfort him. “Hey, it’s fine. Why don’t we just go to bed, and we can talk about this tomorrow?”

He takes a moment to think before he nods, placing a kiss on my cheek before letting me lay down next to him. Our backs face each other. We both stare at the wall in our direction, our heads clouded with thoughts.

After some time, when I was positive he was asleep, I feel the bed shift as he flips over, his body now facing the same way as mine.

His pinky hooks with mine in the softest grip.

I let his hand linger, taking it slow before I drive this car off a cliff.

I face him, looking down at his chest before I place my head on it and kick my leg to lay over his. Our bodies cling to each other immediately. He holds me like he’s scared of letting go.

I can’t get over how good this feels. Just laying here with him.

But I also know tomorrow could be a shit show after these events, so I have just tonight to bask in this before it all goes to shit.

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #strawberrysturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you

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teapartyprincess4two · 3 months

Text

Parenthood- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Mom!reader x Dad!Chris

classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship, I didn’t name the children but Chris has 2 sons in this 👍🏻

summary: head cannons of Dad!Chris.

Parenthood- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)

—

☆SFW

Fatherhood is something that scared Chris beyond belief, but when you broke the news to him he couldn’t contain his excitement. When your son was born, he fell in love immediately, and you both learned to navigate being parents. Then, when you were blessed with a second son, he was even happier.

☆ Chris cherishes every single memory, he’s really sappy about it all. He has a box full of pictures, baby socks, the wristbands from the hospital, everything.

☆ “Chris, some of this is trash,” you chuckle, filtering through the endless trinkets that all seemed to hold significance to him.

☆ “Our son’s first pair of socks isn’t trash, Y/n!” he snatches the box away from you, carefully placing everything back in.

☆ “Okay, but this dirty napkin?”

☆ “I wiped my tears with that. THANK YOU,” he snatches it from you, his sassy demeanor making you laugh.

☆ Chris loves spoiling his son, whether it be with toys and games, or with summer trips.

☆ He goes all out too, splurging on trips to Disney or to elaborate water parks, making sure to book the hotel and everything.

☆ “Babe, he’s 3. He won’t even remember this,” you chuckle, dragging luggage’s behind you.

☆ “Yes you will. Right, son?” Chris coos, bouncing the baby in his arms and blowing a raspberry into his neck. The baby giggles, the sound being music to Chris’s ears.

☆ The whole week it’s just you and Chris going on all the kiddy rides, snapping pictures of your son, and passing out back at the hotel.

☆ When you find out you’re pregnant with your second son, Chris does everything in his power to make your firstborn’s last months as an only child special.

☆ He takes him to the park, cuddles him to sleep every night, and showers that boy in so much love.

☆ Even though Chris is extremely high energy, being a working dad of two is very tiring.

☆ So, when the kids get older, he starts feeling comfortable taking ‘dad naps’ in random spots around the house.

☆ “Chris, babe, can you help me in here really quick?” you’re balancing a fussy baby on your hip, the other hand stirring whatever’s on the stove.

☆ You peer your head outside to see Chris knocked out on the hanging lounge chair. His chin rests on his chest, mouth open and arms crossed as small snores fall past his lips.

☆ Your oldest son holds a long piece of grass, tickling Chris’s nose with it. Your son whispers eerily,“Wake up daaaad. Wake uppppp.” You can’t help but giggle at the sight.

☆ Chris has successfully managed to cement his legacy as the ‘cool dad,’ or at least he thinks he has.

☆ He loves wearing funky graphic t-shirts when he’s chaperoning the kids, “I was young once too. I was the shit back then, kid.”

☆ Your oldest son just rolls his eyes playfully, but in reality he really looks up to Chris.

☆ Your youngest son loves dressing up like his dad, wearing his oversized t-shirts and beanies so big they fall past his eyes.

☆ “Look mom, I look like daddy!” he exclaims, accidentally tripping on the shirt as he runs towards you.

☆ Other times, Chris will throw on some sunglasses and try acting mysterious.

☆ The mysterious act doesn’t last long though, especially not when your youngest son cuddles up next to him for his afternoon nap or when your oldest starts asking for snack money.

☆ At family parties, Chris goes all out. He’s buying a bouncy house, cooking the burgers, renting an ice cream truck, and inviting all of his family.

☆ He loves playing games with his kids, usually forming teams and challenging them, “Alright me and Matt verses you two. Losers have to jump into the pool with their clothes on.”

☆ “Okay, but uncle Nick has to be on our team,” your oldest replies, fully confident in his ability to win his dad.

☆ Nick is then recruited, and surprisingly isn’t needed because your sons are completely obliterating Chris’s team.

☆ Chris isn’t a sore loser, it’s a trait he never wants to subconsciously pass down to his kids, so he’s jumping into the pool fully clothed as his kids watch in a fit of giggles.

☆ Laundry day is easily Chris’s most hated day, especially with two messy children.

☆ He’ll ‘help’ you fold clothes, which really means that he’s toying with the same shirt and flicking through Netflix.

☆ When the kids are asleep, you and Chris will treat yourself to some takeout because that’s the only time you can order food that the kids don’t usually like.

☆ You two are like little rats, hiding in the pantry munching before the kids hear you and wake up.

☆ One small creak and you’re both frantically hiding the food. “THEY’RE COMING!” he whisper shouts, but when no one opens the door you both fall into a fit of laughter at the dramatics.

☆ As your firstborn son gets older, he starts becoming snappy and somewhat rude, as teenagers often do.

☆ And although Chris doesn’t like reprimanding his kids for the smallest things, he can be stern when it’s necessary.

☆ “Watch your fucking mouth, kid. I don’t want to hear shit like that from you again. Go to bed.” Your son is hanging his head down and trudging to his room.

☆ “Don’t you think you were a little harsh on him?” you whisper, holding onto Chris’s arm gently.

☆ “My kids aren’t gonna be disrespectful, especially not to their momma,” he replies, but when he hears your son sniffling in his room the guilt begins chipping away at him.

☆ It doesn’t take Chris long after that to enter your sons room and engulf him in a hug, scolding him in a much softer manner that informs your son that what he did was still wrong, but also that Chris still loves him.

☆ Baseball, basketball, soccer, lacrosse, hockey, football; your sons are doing it all.

☆ Chris is in the stands, cheering so loud that his voice is hoarse by the end of the game. Even when his kid’s team doesn’t win, he’s still so incredibly proud of their performance.

☆ Chris reps the jerseys, attends the practices, and coaches his sons even when they’re at home, “Widen up your stance then throw!”

☆ Whenever there’s an opportunity to make his boys laugh, Chris is taking it.

☆ He picks them up from school wearing big, fake teeth while playing silly songs on the stereo.

☆ Your sons are never embarrassed, they just hold their sides and laugh uncontrollably, “Dad I’m gonna pee, stop!”

☆ He doesn’t spoil his kids, but he definitely buys them an unnecessary amount of things. It’s mostly harmless stuff like toys, games, and sugary snacks.

☆ “They don’t need any more toys, Chris,” you scold, struggling to make space for all of it.

☆ “We don’t need anything, Y/n,” he replies, his inner child going crazy.

☆NSFW

As parents, it can be hard for you and Chris to make time for each other. Your schedules are packed with school, practices, work, and the few free moments in between are used for household chores. But Chris always makes time for you no matter what.

☆ For the most part, you have to be sneaky. During birthday parties or family events, you take advantage of how distracted your kids are and sneak away into an empty room like teenagers.

☆ Your adrenaline is pumping, clumsy fingers undoing his belt as he kisses you feverishly.

☆ “We have to be quick,” you whisper, watching hungrily as he lines himself up with your entrance.

☆ He doesn’t respond, knees wobbling and his animalistic grunts filling the room as he pumps into you quickly.

☆ Chris doesn’t last long, which is slightly embarrassing, but the times you guys have sex are so few and far between that you can’t blame him.

☆ “Sorry,” he whimpers, pulling out and collapsing next to you. “Don’t be sorry,” you smirk, straddling his hips and getting yourself off as he becomes an overstimulated mess.

☆ On date night Chris books a night at a nearby hotel, dropping the kids off with his parents and telling you to get all dolled up.

☆ He dresses up too, meeting you at the hotel bar and flirting with you like it’s his first time meeting you.

☆ “Hey beautiful, come around here often?”

☆ You play along, the butterflies swarming in your stomach despite sharing an entire life with this man, “I do. Never seen a man as handsome as you here before, though.”

☆ A few champagne glasses later, you’re both giddily walking back to the hotel room and making love under the soft lamp light.

☆ Some random mornings, he wakes up fully bricked and no matter how hard he tries to will the erection away it just won’t subside.

☆ “Y/n, baby, are you awake?” he murmurs, pressing soft, sloppy kisses on your exposed shoulders.

☆ You stir awake, a soft yawn escaping your lips as you reply, “I’m awake.”

☆ He pulls you in closer, his erection pressing against the back of your thigh.

☆ “Need some help there?” you chuckle, immediately understanding his intentions. He hums in response, letting you take over as he watches in a lazy haze.

☆ “So beautiful,” he moans, hands caressing and massaging every inch of your body. You can’t help but blush, hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.

☆ “Look at me,” he instructs, he doesn’t want to miss out on a single thing.

☆ “I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” his lips are latched to yours, an overwhelming feeling of love overtaking him as he blows his load inside of you.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: meow 😋 dad Chris anyone? 🎤

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

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satelitis · 5 days

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— BIRDS OF A FEATHER ♱ jason todd x reader

->we should stick together

pairings — jason todd x fem!reader

dal yaps — this is dedicated to @ivyppoison i hope you feel better baby <3

requested? — yes/no

the birds chirped gleefully signaling the new day had started, y/n and jason were asleep comfortably in each others presence entangled with one another as the cheeky sunlight peered through the blinds.

y/n had stirred awake, letting out a soft yawn as she looked over jason being still asleep, his face shoved into a pillow. his cheek smooshed as he slept with his mouth open slightly. quiet snores also being heard from him. y/n smiled as she ran her fingers through the boys hair. eventually, she stopped to pet the puppy lying beside jason, named doug, after the dog from up.

“why’d you stop?” jason groaned, still half asleep.

“doug deserves attention too, jay.” y/n replied, scratching the puppy behind the ear. he rolled over, now wrapping his arms around y/ns waist, placing soft kisses along her neck.

y/n frowned slightly, she had been thinking recently about jason, but the negative side of those thoughts got the better of her,

“jay, am i good enough for you?” she asked him, his head buried in her neck. he lifted up his head to look her in the eyes.

“baby, you’re more than ‘good enough’ you’re perfect for me, more than,” he replied, “why would you think otherwise?” he asked, his face now resembling that of a puppy. why would you ever think so low of yourself? he wondered. you were perfect in his eyes. you lit up his world more than every single light could. you made it so much better and he couldn’t even imagine a world without you in it, by his side.

“well, i’ve just been thinking, im not as pretty as those other girls, i’m quite the opposite actually, and i’m annoying…” she started, jason frowned. “i talk too much, and i just feel like i’m not enough for you,” she said.

“baby, you are way more gorgeous than any girl in gotham or anywhere else,” he started as he brought his hands up to her cheeks, cupping them. “and i love to hear you talk, your voice is like music to my ears and it’s so amazing hearing what you have to say.” he reassured.

y/n smiled as jason continued to reassure her, “now,” he added, “repeat after me.” he demanded. “i am jason todd’s awesome girlfriend and no one is better than me, and i’m so perfect for him.” he said. y/n let out a soft laugh.

“jayyy.” she trailed.

“nuh uh.” he tsked, wagging his finger at her. “say it.” he pouted. y/n sighed.

. “i am jason todd’s awesome girlfriend and no one is better than me, and i’m so perfect for him.” the brightest smile appeared on jason’s face.

“that’s my perfect girl.” he squeezed her shoulders reassuringly.

#dilly dallying #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #batfamily #batfam #dc robin #red hood #dcu #dc universe #dc comics #batman #gotham

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momodita · 4 months

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snapshots. [—chilchuck tims]

TAGS / WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, modern au, minor pining, background marcille/falin WC: 1,000 NOTE: divorced father of 3 save me... save me divorced father of 3...

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS DNI.

“Move over.”

Chilchuck’s voice startles you. The bowl in his hands is steaming: a hearty stew made with Falin and Marcille’s collective effort—(“Senshi’s tried and true recipe!”). A thick slice of bread perches on its rim. It smells just as heavenly as it did at dinner.

“Here?” you ask, stupefied. The armchair you’ve claimed is wide; there’s easily enough space to fit a Chilchuck-sized person, but your mind jumps—unbidden—to the reason he’d been late in the first place.

“Where else?” He nudges you with his knee. “As if I’m gonna sit near that love-fest over there.”

“You’re not welcome anyways,” Marcille tuts, midway through dipping the maraschino cherry from her sundae into Falin’s mouth.

“This is my apartment!”

You concede with a laugh: it’s just your bruised heart working overtime. The moment his body settles, shoulders touching, you stop being able to taste the ice cream Laios had scooped into your bowl. Existence narrowing to that point of contact with a familiar little rush.

It’s Laios’ turn to choose tonight’s movie, much to Marcille’s dismay—(“A documentary classifies! This is a really interesting one!”)—and he scrolls to find it as Chilchuck digs into his food.

Midway through, you engage him in a thrilling mock-battle of fencing spoons. Falin dozes, lulled from the careful stroke of Marcille’s fingers through her hair. By the time the credits roll, they’re folded onto each other, soft snores drowned out by music.

“They fell asleep again,” Chilchuck drawls, chin cushioned against his hand.

“Must be crashing after all that sugar,” Laios suggests, drapes a blanket over them.

“They were pretty high energy tonight. Eager to hear about how Chilchuck’s date went, I guess,” you tease, taking up the mantle with Marcille fast asleep. “You didn’t even tell us her name.” Keeping the tone casual despite the haunting little pit in your stomach.

(It’d been a shock to hear about it: for as long as you’ve known him, Chilchuck has been eager to keep his life private—even from long-time friends. And there’d been no signs of anyone—except you and your little group—coveting his time and attention; no extra, unexplained toothbrushes, no brands you don’t recognize in his pantry, no missed get-togethers.)

“Huh?” He gives you a look, confusion twisted in his features. The TV’s light illuminates a silver hair. “I wasn’t with any girl.”

Your brow furrows. “…His name? Their name?”

Chilchuck stares. This close—where the minuscule twitches in his expression are noticeable—it’s strangely evaluating.

“You know Marcille was joking when she said it was a date, right?” Heat sears along your cheekbones; embarrassment flushing hot under his gaze—the realization of your mistake.

“Of course I knew,” you say stupidly. Chilchuck’s eyebrow quirks. “Shut up. Don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, then if it wasn’t a date, who were you with?”

“Senshi,” he says. “He was—we, uh,” his eyes slide off to the side, “I asked him for a favor.”

“Oh?” you hum, relief and mirth creating a warm hum behind your ribs. “Looking to get a side hustle as a cook?”

“Not even close,” he grunts, looking away.

“Should we start calling you our little master chef?” You nudge him with a grin.

“Chilchuck is already quite good at cooking,” Laios pipes up without taking his eyes off the screen. “Maybe he’ll learn to make something else after mastering ramen.”

“Hey—”

“Ramen?” you ask, head tilting. “Like, the instant kind?”

Chilchuck splutters. “No!”

“From scratch!” Laios beams. “Senshi’s said he’s been making really good progress since his first day.”

“Oh?” you grin. “Our little master chef is gonna open a ramen shop?”

“Shut up. No way. Not ever,” Chilchuck grumbles, the high curve of his ear a soft pink.

“I hope you’ll make it for us one day—I love ramen,” you say. “Very tedious, though, so I’ve never done it myself.”

His face scrunches, mouth pursing together like he wants to speak, but doesn’t. His cheeks puff with air, releasing as a long, quiet sigh.

“Oh, hey, so after ramen”—you lean a hand on the chair’s opposite arm, boxing him in with a cheeky little smile—“you should look into French onion soup. It’s probably easier than ramen but caramelizing the onions takes so long—”

“You—!” he leans back, shoulders tense and eyes wide. “Don’t go making requests before I’ve even cooked anything decent.”

“Why not? I bet it’ll be great! You’re good with your hands, so soup is probably a piece of cake for you.” You watch—with no small amount of pleasure—as Chilchuck’s face flushes with vivid color.

“Get away from me,” he mumbles, but his tone is so insincere all you do is laugh. He knocks a loose fist against the inside of your elbow. A surprised noise jumps out; you retreat back against the chair, rubbing the spot.

“Mmh?” Marcille rouses with a sleepy hum. “What’re you requestin’?”

“Chilchuck is making us ramen,” you joke, relishing the way he knocks an admonishing leg against yours. “He’s our little master chef.”

“Oh, yeah. Did Laios end up spilling the beans?” Marcille yawns. Falin stirs, eyes fluttering. “Congratulations, you two.”

Chilchuck goes stiff beside you. “What do you mean?” you ask.

Marcille pauses, head tilting with a drowsy look of confusion. “Huh? Didn’t you ask why he’s learning to make it?” she asks. Falin tugs her sleeve.

You blink. “No. Should I have?” Marcille doesn’t respond right away, head bent to put an ear by Falin’s mouth, expression pinched as they whisper. Then, with a sigh, she reaches up to stretch.

“No. Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Laios is quick to grab her attention.

“Hey, so are you actually opening a ramen shop?” you whisper to Chilchuck.

“You’re such an airhead,” he grunts against his palm.

“I’m great,” you reply. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze. When next he speaks, his voice is soft—acquiescing easily to your jest.

“Guess you are.”

#chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dungeon meshi fic #dungeon meshi x reader #snapshot fic #reader insert #food as a love language from me wow how new and exciting #momodita fic

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esmedelacroix · 4 months

Text

Miguel As A "Boy Dad" !

boydad!miguel o'hara who isn't afraid to shower his son with love ♥︎

Miguel And Your Baby Bump ! ← previous part ♥︎

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️

boydad!miguel o'hara who would come home from work late to find his baby boy surprising him by walking up to him for the first time. He felt a little sting in his heart because he couldn’t be there to watch his first steps but seeing Gabriel smiling ear to ear and greeting him made him feel much better. “Come here my love,” Miguel would say he crouched down with his arms spread out he would scoop up Gabriel, and smother him in kisses.

boydad!miguel o'hara who will always be the one to get up whenever Gabriel has a nightmare. “Daddy?… I had a bad dream,” you hear your son’s quiet teary voice call out with your door cracked open a smidge letting in the light from the hallway. Miguel slowly gets up as you sit up as well. “Go back to sleep Cariño[honey] I got it,” Miguel would whisper softly giving your head a soft pat.

boydad!miguel o'hara who would hold his little boy’s hand while walking him back to his room. The next morning you would wake up seeing that Miguel hadn’t come back to your room. You would peep into Gabriel’s room to see him and Miguel cuddled up on his Lightning McQueen bed. Miguel's body being far too big for the bed making you laugh to yourself hearing his soft snores.

boydad!miguel o'hara who would always take note of the things that Gabriel liked. Gabriel liked Hot Wheels? Miguel would come with a whole race track. Gabriel liked Star Wars? He would plan a family costume for Halloween. Gabriel liked Legos? Miguel would randomly come home with a Lego Death Star for them to build.

boydad!miguel o'hara who was always so protective of Gabriel when the two of you found out he was allergic to peanuts. He always checked everything before he ate them. The two of you also wiped all peanut products out of the house. Miguel always has his Epi pen wherever they go.

boydad!miguel o'hara who helped Gabriel make his first crush a Valentine. He went out late at night and got candy and arts and crafts supplies so they could make a handmade card for his crush. “What if she doesn’t like me back?" Gabriel asked worriedly. "How could she not like you back? You’re a nice boy and you look just like your mother, which makes you the most handsome boy in the world because your mom is the most beautiful in the world, he explained giving Gabriel a pat on the back as he left for school.

boydad!miguel o'hara who always went to his son's events and supported him whether it be his baseball games or the musicals that he was in. Miguel took time to practice with him in your front yard and took you Gabriel to see your favorite productions on Broadway. Miguel was convinced Gabriel would be a famous musical theater actor.

boydad!miguel o'hara who would document Gabriel's life from his first "Dada" to his first baseball game, all the way to his first musical, the time he came out to his family, and his wedding where he married his awesome husband.

boydad!miguel o'hara who went all out every Pride Month all throughout Gabriel's high school career after he came out to the family. Nothing made Miguel happier than the fact that Gabriel felt comfortable coming out to the two of you as his parents. He felt the most accomplished as a father knowing that his son felt like he could tell him anything.

boydad!miguel o'hara who loves his son unconditionally.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️

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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months

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Tequila

Summary: Tequila has a lot to answer for when Y/N wakes up naked in Dean’s bed, but once the shock wears off, she realises that maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of smut, angst, fluff, feelings, friends to lovers

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Another December Drabble for you all to enjoy!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

The sun streams through the motel’s threadbare curtains, rudely awakening you from a deep, drunken sleep. Your head is pounding, and there’s a ringing in your ears that comes with the vague memory of the loud music playing at the bar last night.

It’d been a hard hunt to stomach: Lamia, a child-eating demon, had decided to take up residence in Grangeville, Idaho, and once you’d blasted her ass back to hell, you and Dean really, really needed to let off a lot of steam.

Luckily, there was a dive bar next door to the motel, so neither of you had to stay sober enough to drive home, and you’d both been well and truly shit-faced. You’d hustled a small fortune playing pool; he’d sung karaoke, and there were tequila shots… lots and lots of tequila shots.

A snore from behind you made you freeze. It sounded like Dean, but that couldn’t be right. Why would you and Dean be in the same bed? Whoever it was rolled over and slid their arm over your waist, pulling you into their body. You could feel something hard poke the back of your thigh… at least he’s packing, you thought before the mystery man spoke.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Suddenly, the whole night’s events come flooding back to you at once.

One tequila shot turned into two. Two turned to four. Four turned to six, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door to Dean’s room, lips attached to his, nails raking through his hair and over his scalp and neck, tongues dancing a passionate tango while your clothes flew in every direction.

Dean made love to you so deliciously good. He was sweet and gentle at times. Rough and hard when you needed it. In all the years you’d known him, this was the first time you’d ended up in his bed, yet he knew your body better than you did.

The green-eyed hunter had known how to pleasure you better than anyone had before him. Touching places no one had ever touched before. Taking you higher than you’d ever been, making you scream his name so loud the occupant next door had banged the wall.

It’s overwhelming, and you can feel last night’s alcohol swirl dangerously in your stomach, threatening to make an appearance. You lifted the covers and glanced down. Yep, definitely naked.

Pulling the sheet tighter to your body, you cautiously turn around, your worst fear confirmed as Dean’s twinkling green orbs and cocky smirk greet you.

“Well, this changes things!” he grins, and you can’t decide if you want to punch his painfully beautiful face or kiss him.

“Oh, God!” you gasp, covering your face with your hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“Y/N?” Dean asks, concern evident in his voice. “You okay?”

“I can’t believe I did you—I mean that. I can’t believe I did that,” you mumble.

“Come on, don’t be like that! We had a great time. I got you off six times, sweetheart! That’s a personal record for me!”

Dean’s words are meant to be comforting, but they do the opposite and only embarrass you more. The urge to kiss him is gone, leaving you wanting to punch his painfully beautiful, smug face.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you okay? Did I hurt you in any way? Did you not want that to happen? Because I gotta say, you were all over me at the bar, and I get that we had a lot of tequila and were drunk, but I thought you wanted me, too?”

Now that Dean had put his cocky persona aside and the real Dean was in the room, you’d changed your mind again and wanted to kiss him.

“No, Dean. I wanted it to happen. I have for an embarrassingly long time. What I don’t want is to be just another notch on your bedpost. It’s why I’ve never given in to your very persuasive charms over the years. Because I want to be more than just one night to you. And I know that’s not what you want—”

“Woah, Y/N, slow down!” Dean shot up on the bed and turned you to face him. “Did you not hear me when I said this changes things? Do you honestly think I’d risk what we have for one night? I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and last night was the first time since we met that you’ve shown any interest in me. And sweetheart, I haven’t been shy in pulling out my best moves for you.” His words and body language are so expressive and genuine, and you know he’s not feeding you a line. He likes you and he’s wanted you for a long time. All of his flirting and come-ons were real.

“And I thought ‘this is it. I finally get to call her my girl’. Maybe I shouldn’t have followed through with it when we were drunk, but I don’t regret taking my chance with you. Please tell me you don’t regret what happened.” Dean cups your cheeks to keep your gaze on his. The pain crossing his features breaks your heart. You want to tell him you feel the same way, but it’s risky.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much from last night, just bits and pieces, but I know enough to know that if that happened, I wanted it to happen,” you say, trying to ignore the look of Dean’s disappointment at your lack of memory from the night before.

“Do you really want me?” you ask, terrified this was a tequila-induced dream.

“Since the day I met you. And if you’re interested, I’d like to see where we’d go. Together. As a couple.” For once, Dean looks incredibly shy and vulnerable, making your heart swell.

“I’d like that too, De,” you smile, giggling when he grins boyishly.

“Yeah?” he checks, and you nod.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“Then, I think you should lay back and let me refresh your memory of last night,” Dean grins as he gently pushes you back down on the mattress and pulls your legs apart.

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#tequila #december drabbles #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester

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m0chac0ffee · 1 year

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(VERY Domestic) SCENARIOS WITH S. RILEY

Allergies.

"Simonnn....."

...

"Simooonnnn....."

"What?"

Simon walked into your room.

"I can't breathe properly.."

"You congested?"

"Yes..."

"Loser."

"Die slowly, Si."

Simon eventually brought you tea to help soothen your sinuses, tissues, snacks, and medicine to lessen your symptoms.

————————————————————————

I Love You.

"Hey, love?"

"What's up, Si?"

"I love you."

...

"Why are you crying?"

"Just... really happy. I love you too. So much."

————————————————————————

Music Taste.

"The hell is this shit?"

"My playlist, obviously."

"It's ass."

"Oh yeah? Think your music is better?"

"Absolutely."

"Whatever."

You smiled softly as you stared at your boyfriend who, despite his complaints, kept his connected earbud in his ear.

————————————————————————

Snoring.

"You snore."

"You're lying."

"Am not."

"Proof or it's not true."

"Alright, just wait til tonight then."

Simon ended up falling asleep before you and you indeed caught a recording of him snoring loudly.

————————————————————————

Ouch.

"OW! FUCK!"

Simon came rushing into your bedroom.

"Love? What happened?"

You were gripping your foot as you sat on the ground.

"Stubbed my toe."

...

"Screamed bloody murder just because you hit your toe."

"It hurt!"

"Didn't require a banshee screech though."

You flipped him off as he chuckled and bent down to kiss your forehead.

————————————————————————

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storiesofsvu · 10 months

Text

Five Nights Pt 1

*not my gif* Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, smut, masturbation, fingering, dirty talk. This is part one!! There is one or two more parts coming, it's a bit of a 5 + 1 trope/style but was getting too long so I figured I'd split it up. Following parts to come likely later this week!

Night One:

You weren’t entirely sure how you’d pulled the short straw and ended up sharing rooms, but at least it was with the silent stoic that was Hotch. He wouldn’t be rambling on about the case hours after leaving the precinct, he wouldn’t force the television onto some mind numbing trashy reality show and he didn’t snore like Rossi did. The only thing you had to ignore was the fact that you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree and were suddenly in much closer quarters and personal space than being in the field or office together.

The town was small, the hotel was cheap and the case was proving that you’d be stuck there for at least a week. All things considered, you needed some relief, some relaxation and all you could pray was that the sound of the shower would cover up anything else. For extra security you turned on a playlist on your phone, figuring that would be enough before you made sure the water was the perfect temperature and stepped under the stream. You let the water cascade over your skin, rinsing away the dirt and grime of the day as your eyes closed and you relaxed against the shower wall. Your hands began to roam your body, tickling at your skin as you let out little shivers, cupping at your chest you pinched your nipples, unable to hold back a quiet moan, Aaron’s name a whisper on your lips as you fantasized it was his hands sinking lower and lower on your body until you reached out for the small toy.

Out in the room Aaron was sitting on the bed closer to the bathroom, the television playing quietly in the background while he got caught up on paperwork. He could have sworn he heard his name, wondering if you’d forgotten shampoo or something in your go bag he glanced up, muting the tv to see if you’d repeat whatever you’d said. The shower was already running and suddenly he caught himself thinking about you naked and dripping, water trailing down your perfect skin and he couldn’t help the way his dick twitched in his pants. Paperwork tossed aside he was about to try and calm himself down before he got to hot and bothered when he heard it again,

“Oh Aaron…”

It was faint, barely audible over whatever music you had playing but you had very clearly moaned his name. Following that he heard the tell tale sign of a vibrator whirring to life and a small whimper. Not only were you naked and wet on the other side of a very thin wall, you were touching yourself.

Touching yourself while thinking about him.

Pretending that he was in there with you doing all the dirty things he’d been wishing he could do to you since the day you met. He let out a low breath, his ears picking up a breathy sigh from the other side of the wall, his cock now hard in his pants. He knew it was a potentially disastrous idea, but you’d just gotten in the shower, if you’d decided to start with making yourself come, you still had to actually shower afterwards. He had more than enough time to get himself off to the sounds you were making through the wall.

Pulling his cock out of the waistband of his pants his thumb swiped over the tip, smearing the precum down his throbbing length. His eyes fluttered shut as his hand squeezed, stroking up and down, listening for any other sounds coming from the shower. With each little whimper, moan or gasp he could hear he twitched in his hand, doing his best to keep quiet as he groaned. He could picture you perfectly, water tracing down your body, fingers pumping into your tight little pussy as you fluttered around yourself, imagining it was his cock buried deep inside you. He thought of you on your knees for him, cock stuffed down your throat as you drooled around him, taking it like the good girl he just knew you were.

“Oh god Aaron.” The music was between songs, this murmur a little louder than the last one, “yeah… right there.”

He squeezed tighter around his length, his hand starting to move faster as he grunted, the coil tightening in his stomach. He imagined you on all fours for him, ass waggling back toward him as you silently begged for his cock before he was sliding it into your cunt, pushing deeper with each thrust of his hips. How warm and wet you’d feel around him, how tight you’d squeeze him, the noises you’d make even better than the little ones he could hear right now. Pleasure burst through him and he groaned quietly, cum spurting out of the head of his dick and onto his stomach. It was only a moment later he heard a quiet muffled cry from the bathroom followed by silence. He grabbed Kleenex from the nightstand, cleaning himself up and tucking his cock back into his pants, relaxing back onto the bed in the exact position he’d been in when you’d left.

Completely distracted by the images in his head and the sounds he wanted to lock away in his brain forever he didn’t even hear the bathroom door click or realize you were back in the room until you spoke.

“What’re you watching?” You asked, crossing past his bed as you glanced at the tv and he looked up.

“Uh.. it appears Futurama.” His eyes darted between the tv screen and you, noticing how tightly your hand was clenched around the shirt you were holding and his pupils widened, knowing just what you had wrapped up in there.

“Huh.” You buried your items into your go bag before you crossed to the bed, “makes sense, I thought it was Family Guy for a sec.” You buried yourself under the covers, letting out a very satisfied nearly dreamy sigh as you did so.

“That good of a shower in this kind of a place?” He asked with a small tease and you chuckled.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” You rolled away so your back was to him, “night Hotch.”

Night two:

The next day was exactly the same, work was work, there was no indication that Hotch heard you masturbating the night prior and there definitely wasn’t even a thought that he’d been touching himself at the same time. Returning to the hotel room you fell into the familiar routine, you dug through your go bag for your shower essentials, leaving Hotch in the hotel room to change out of his suit.

The sound of the water running took over the silence of the room and a moment later music echoed from your phone, Hotch unable to hold back a smirk at the knowledge of what you were about to do. A quiet whirring followed by a satisfied moan as the toy slid into you, your free hand roaming your body and you succumbed to your fantasy world. Aaron felt his dick twitch when you let out a quiet whine, wondering how long he would have to withhold making a move now that he knew. He wondered if this week sharing a room would present him with an opportune moment, or if you would bite the bullet and make a move. He was jostled from his thoughts at the sound of your voice,

“Dammit.” A frustrated huff and he realized the whirring had come to a halt, judging by your outburst, it wasn’t on purpose either. A clattering sound from the other side of the wall as you tossed the toy onto the basin and quickly finished your shower. It was only a minute later the door opened and you were changed into pyjama shorts and a tank, crossing the foot of Aaron’s bed as you made your way to your own.

“Everything alright?” He raised a brow in your direction and you nearly stumbled, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Ran outta hot water.” Distracting yourself with folding the clothes in your hands to place into your go bag you missed his smirk as he moved from his bed, grabbing his toothbrush and paste from his bag.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, you’d been on edge all day, trapped in an SUV with only him for most of the afternoon, the close proximity driving you wild as you tried to not let your imagination go too far. You’d been absolutely dying to get back to the hotel and take care of the pent up energy and now that Aaron was in on your little secret, he could tell. The grin remained on his lips when he flicked the bathroom light on and the first thing he noticed was the bright pink toy still sitting on the basin, unable to resist, he picked it up. The opportunity was staring him right in the face and he wasn’t about to pass it up now.

“You forget something in here?” He called.

“What?” You called back and he peeked his head around the corner. There was a large mirror across from the foot of your bed, a small table in front of it that you had your skin care laid out on.

“You missing this?” He asked, eyes gleaming as he stepped back into the room, holding up the pink toy. You re-capped the lotion in your hand, placing it down onto the table before glancing up and your eyes went wide. You felt the blush creeping up your chest as your heart began to race.

“Uh…it’s, uh, travel back massager.” You stumbled out, trying to cover your tracks, “you know how terrible the beds can be on these trips.”

“Mmhmm….” Hotch smirked, moving through the room to approach you, handing the toy over to you and you immediately tossed it into your go bag. “I sure do. I also know how stressful these little trips can be, it’s important to relax, and I’m guessing that little thing died on you?” He nodded in the direction of your bag and you gulped.

“Yup…” Your heart was beating a million miles a minute over just how close he was to you, never mind the smirk on his lips, the near teasing in his voice, his choice of words letting you in on the game. That he was more than well aware exactly what that toy was for, and exactly what you had just been doing in the shower. You should’ve known better, there was no way the walls were thick enough for you to not be overheard.

“You know…I think I’ve got something that could help you out,” he stepped behind you, eyes finding yours in the mirror, “all you had to do was ask.”

One of his hands came up to the back of your neck, thumb on one side with his fingers on the other and your breath hitched in your throat at the touch. His digits massaged for a moment or two, working down your neck until his hand slid to the crook of your neck and his free one came up to the other side, pinching at your body.

“Hmm… doesn’t seem too tight here. You must’ve been using it lower.” His hands slid over your shoulders, rubbing there for a moment and you felt like you were about to burst, your body tingling with pleasure already. “No… not there.” His hands ghosted down your back, settling around your waist as his thumbs gently dug into your lower back, occasionally slipping under the hem of your shirt and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet gasp at the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin. Hotch stepped closer to you, pulling you to him by your waist, his breath was hot on the shell of your ear when he spoke again, “here?”

“Hotch…” It was barely above a whisper, unable to control yourself, feeling the heat radiating off his body as you began to relax into him, your eyes almost threatening to close as a cloud of pleasure surrounded you. He chuckled, leaning down his teeth nipped at your neck and you let out a moan, this one loud and clear to his ears.

“Oh come on now, we both know that’s not what you were moaning last night.” He grinned and your eyes flew open, catching his gaze in the mirror as heat crept into your cheeks once again. “Now… I think you were using it even lower.” One of his hands wound around your body, pulling you flush to him as it slid down your body until it was between your legs and he cupped your pussy, squeezing softly and you let out a whimper. “Am I right?”

“Yes sir.” You breathed out, your knees felt weak when he massaged at your heat again and you let out a shaky breath.

“What do you say we get rid of these then?” His free hand came to untangle the knot of your shorts, “because I do think I can help you out much better than that stupid little pink thing.”

“Mmhmm.” Nodding furiously your fingers slipped into the waistband of your shorts, quickly tugging them down your legs and kicking them off to the side. Aaron remained behind you, eyes locked on your half naked form through the mirror, one hand holding your hip steady while the other slid up your body. He paused briefly only to grope at your chest through the thin fabric of your shirt, smirking at the little moans that escaped your lips when he did so. His hand continued upward, squeezing lightly at your throat and he felt himself twitch at the way your eyes fluttered shut, the way you shivered at the touch. Finally his fingers found your lips, two of them slipping into your mouth and you eagerly sucked at them, tongue lapping around them.

“Good girl.” He cooed, softly thrusting the digits between your lips before adding a third one and you moaned around them. “God I bet you’d look gorgeous with my cock in your mouth.”

“Mmmhmm.” It was mumbled around his fingers and he chuckled at the way you nodded, sucking harder around him.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You gasped out when he pulled his hand away from your mouth, “oh please yes.”

“Later.” His other hand pinched at your ass, “first I’m going to get you off far better than that little toy could, alright?”

He glanced at you in the mirror, waiting for your eager nod before his hand slid back down your body and his spit slicked fingers easily found your clit. Fingertips brushing against it in slow circles as he began to increase the pressure, your hips jolting up to the touch.

“Fuck…” You muttered out, tingles bursting through your body as you shivered in his arms. Aaron’s lips found your neck again, trailing messy kisses down your skin as his hand began to move faster. Your head lolled back on his shoulder; eyes fluttering shut as you let out another quiet moan. Suddenly his free hand was wrapping around your chin, tilting your head back up as he spoke,

“Eyes open pretty girl.” He murmured, lips brushing against your ear, “I want you to see how gorgeous you are, want you to watch the way my fingers disappear into that pretty pussy.” His hand sunk lower this time, fingers slipping through your folds, a dark chuckle vibrating through his chest before he lifted his hand, fingertips glistening in the low light of the room, “you dirty girl, already this wet for me?”

“Yes sir.” You breathed out, catching his gaze in the mirror and you blushed, your pussy fluttering around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Have you been wet all day? Wishing I would get you naked, thinking about all the naughty things I could do to you?”

“Mmhm..” You nodded, doing your best not to whine as you shivered.

“Well I better follow through then.”

With another smirk his hand was back between your legs and you let out a gasp when a finger slid into your pussy, clenching down around the digit immediately. A second finger quickly joined it, easily thrusting into your warmth, pulling more wetness from it, as he set a steady pace the hotel room filled with the sounds of your pussy mixed with your breathy moans and whimpers. Your eyes landed on the mirror, watching the way Hotch effortlessly held you to him while his fingers thrust in and out of you, the heel of his hand brushing against your clit,

“That’s it…” he groaned, “such a good girl for me.” His hips ground against your ass and you let out a gasp at the feeling of his half hard cock rubbing at you through his pants. “Take my fingers so well, bet you’d take my cock just as good, wouldn’t you?”

“God! Yes!” You panted, struggling to keep your eyes open at this point, his fingers curling and twisting inside you as his lips brushed against your neck and shoulders. “Fuck… feels..s-so good.” His fingers curled once more and you let out a gasp, your body shuddering in his arms, “don’t stop.”

“Ah.” He raised a brow at you through the mirror, his hand pausing its thrusting so his fingers could curl again, finding the sensitive spot in your pussy, “right there?” He asked and you whimpered when he pressed against it again, nodding as you bit your lip,

“Oh fuck Aaron…” you moaned, your head dropping back onto his shoulder as your hips rocked downward into his touch. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you said his name and he wished he was buried to the hilt inside of you right then, but he’d promised you an orgasm first and he wasn’t about to back down on his word.

“You like that, don’t you?” He asked with a chuckle, beginning to move his hand again. He could feel the way you were pulsating around his fingers, how with each thrust of his hand there was more and more wetness dripping down his wrist. Your eyes were scrunched shut, your entire body on fire as he continued to finger you, curling with each thrust until your legs were practically shaking. The coil in your belly wound tighter and tighter, your hand shooting to his arm, clutching at him for dear life while you whined and shivered with pleasure.

“Fuck! Oh god… m’so close.” You could feel it burning just under your skin, he stretched you so perfectly with just his fingers you were absolutely driven to insanity at the thought of his cock buried in your cunt.

“Come for me pretty girl.” He cooed, nipping at your earlobe as he increased the pace, his free hand wrapping tighter around you to play with your clit.

You let out a gasp at the double sensation, your body jolting toward his touch, hips grinding into his hands as right as his fingers curled once again your free hand shot to your mouth, letting out a muffled cry as your orgasm shot through you like a burst of fire. Your legs nearly gave out, thankful for Aaron’s arm tightly wrapped around your middle as your body shook. A string of quiet swears and whimpers escaped your lips as he gently fucked you through your orgasm,

“So fucking hot.” He murmured, watching the way your chest heaved as you panted in an attempt to catch your breath, little trembles shooting through your body as his fingers lazily thrusted into you. “Was that better than that stupid little pink thing?” He asked, cocking a brow at you through the mirror and you let out a huff of a laugh.

“Much.”

His fingers finally slipped from your pussy and he grinned, “just fucking drenched.”

“All for you.” You muttered, finally able to stand on your own legs you turned slightly to face him.

“Bet you taste incredible too.” He replied with a grin and before he could even get another thought in your lips were wrapping around his fingers again, moaning over your own taste as you sucked his fingers clean, letting them go with a lewd pop. “Christ.” He felt himself throb in his pants once again as he looked down at you, his hands just beginning to toy with the hem of your shirt when his phone went off with a text tone and both of you jumped, suddenly coming back to the real world.

“Ignore it.” You muttered, tugging at his arm to regain his attention and he laughed softly, stepping back toward you when the phone went off a second time. His hand trailed up your neck to your cheek and all he could think about was kissing you to get a taste of what that pretty pussy tasted like when the ringtone began blaring through the room and he let out a frustrated groan, stepping away to answer the phone.

You dropped down onto the bed behind you, watching curiously as he muttered a couple of things into the phone before hanging it up and glancing back to you.

“I have to go back to the precinct.” He grabbed a couple more things from around the room before scooping up your abandoned shorts from the floor, handing them to you, pausing to pinch at your chin, “this isn’t over.”

“It better not be.” You replied with a grin, your eyes very obviously flicking from his face to the bulge in his pants, resisting the urge to reach out and palm him through the fabric.

By the time Hotch got back to the hotel that night it was late, far too late to have expected you to still be awake, completely unsurprised to find you curled up asleep in your own bed. He let out a tired sigh, stripping out of his clothes as he made his way to the bathroom. Tonight it was his turn to get off in the shower with the images of you coming around his fingers and fantasy of how it would feel to bury himself into that gorgeous pussy.

This certainly was very far from over.

Pt 2

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@alexusonfire @svushots @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @plaidbooks @the-hopeess-haze @niyizh @ababanana @tommyriddleobsessed @supercriminalbean @hotchs-bitch @iluvsreid @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @louderfortheback

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x you #hotch x reader

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hopelessromantic423 · 1 year

Text

A Simple Night for Cuddling

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You fall asleep with Bucky not home, but you are soon awoken with him wanting to hold you as close as possible.

Warnings: so much fluff. So much. an okay amount of details.

A/N: howdy! I couldn’t find a photo that fit the vibe. whoops. Also if you couldn’t tell, fluffy haired Bucky is my favorite :)

It was your average Monday night. You had dinner by yourself at the kitchen table and now you were plopped on the couch with your back against the arm rest and a nice fluffy blanket over your knees.

The movie of the night was la la land because you hadn’t seen it in a while and you wanted something with music in it. Sooner or later, you let out a yawn and allowed your eyes to draw closed with your head resting on the back of the couch.

You didn’t even hear Bucky walk in. He had time to set down his keys, take his boots off at the door and wander around looking for you. He was headed towards your bedroom when he heard a soft snore coming from the couch, which brought a warm smile to his face.

You were sound asleep on the couch, your knees sitting against your chest as you sat up. Bucky quietly came around and sat right in front of you. His hand came to rest on your leg, rubbing softly up and down to coax you out of sleep.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. His hand came up to brush a few loose hairs from your cheek to past your ear. “Wake up.”

Once you felt his warm hand running soft circles on your cheek, that easily lulled you out of your trance and your eyes slowly peered up at him.

“You’re home,” you said sleepily with a smile. If you hadn’t just woken up, your excitement would be more visual.

“I missed you,” Bucky said while leaning and giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. You reciprocated, pulling him closer to you.

Before you could pull him any closer Bucky stood up and wrapped both of his hands under your knees. You gave Bucky a quizzical look which he just replied with a simple, “trust me.”

He lightly tugged at your legs which made you slide down the couch, now laying with your back flush to the cushions. Bucky leaned over you and placed himself between the couch and your body. His head rested on your chest, with one hand resting under your back and the other laid protectively over your waist.

His body was like a warm weighted blanket. You hummed in satisfaction while taking in how comfortable you were. He seemed comfortable too, immediately closing his eyes to relish in your closeness. Your hand reached down to lightly trace up and down his back as the two of you laid there.

“How was work?” Your voice was soft as you spoke. The TV light dimly lit the two of you, with the sound only a quiet murmur.

“It was okay, don’t want to talk about it,” Bucky replied, nuzzling his face into the soft spot underneath your breast.

That was one of the things you and Bucky just understood about each other. You knew work was hard on him, and Bucky knew work wasn’t a piece of cake for you either so when one of you didn’t want to talk about it, you don’t push.

“I love you,” Bucky said, glancing up at you with a soft smile. Three words were so simple but meant so much. His sweet blue eyes made your heart melt into a puddle. He really made you feel like the only girl in the world.

“I love you too James.”

Soon after that, the two of you fell asleep right in the position you were in. It must have been around 3 in the morning when Bucky woke up randomly, realizing the state that you both were in. He quietly chuckled to himself as he got up, making sure not to wake you.

Scooping you up bridal style, he carried you into bed and fell right back asleep. As he closed his eyes, Bucky hoped that scenario would happen more often because the thought of holding you forever wasn’t such a bad idea.

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x fluff

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luluia · 5 months

Text

New Years With One Piece Men

Includes-Monster Trio and Ace

Warnings-Make outs, Kissing, and suggestive towards the end

A/n-Second work. PLEASE IM RUSHING THIS

Luffy

It was New Years Eve and every was getting ready. Whether it was Sanji preparing the food, Brook practicing his music for tonight, or Usopp and Franky touching up an extra special surprise for midnight. You and Robin happened to be in charge of all the decorations since Usopp was busy.

“We did it!” You said as all the New Years lights you and Robin set up turned on as you high fived Sanji brought you girls some drinks before delivering one to Nami

“I’m not really in the mood for a beverage right now,” You said yawning “Don’t fall… asleep…” You heard Chopper say to himself barely able to keep his eyes open you were glad you weren’t the only one.

Eventually once it was around 10 pm you guys started to have fun as Zoro was drinking, Franky and Usopp were doing a dance as Chopper joined in, Brook was playing music, Robin and Nami were talking, Jimbei was eating having the time of his life as he gave his thanks to Sanji for the food, And Luffy? He was shoving his mouth full

You decided to step out for some fresh air as you leaned against the balcony staring into the ocean. “Y/n. Why are you out here?” You heard a familiar voice say as you turned around to see your beloved Captain

“Just needed some fresh air. Shouldn’t you be inside having fun with everyone Pirate King?” You asked he wrapped his arms around you “It isn’t fun without you” He said as you felt your cheeks get red you immediately looked away

“I-I’ll go back inside in a few minutes so you should go-“ You said until you felt his head shake back and forth he didn’t seem to want to leave you

“Wanna hangout and talk for a bit?” You asked he nodded as you both sat down on the deck, Luffy’s head resting in the crook of your neck you smiled as he was falling asleep

“Love you. Happy New Year” You kissed his head

“Love you too, Y/n. Happy New…” He snored as you smiled

Zoro

It was New Year’s Eve as you and the other Straw Hats were at a small island celebrating the new year.

“Mind pouring me some?” You said talking to your best friend on board the notorious Roronoa Zoro he didn’t say anything and just poured some do his drink into your cup with a tiny growl

It seemed pretty clear you had a thing for the marimo but you knew he wasn’t one for romance so you never tried anything.

“You didn’t have to if you didn’t want too” You said he rolled his eyes as it was 10 minutes to midnight as some people starting clinking their glasses

“To a new beginning!” You heard some people say as it was now 5 minutes to midnight some people started making out you gagged a bit

“I don’t get the point of a New Years kiss” You heard Roronoa say

“Maybe I could show you” You flirted he scoffed as the clock struck 12 you both clinked your glasses and took a shot and right as you were about to swallow you felt a pair of lips on yours as the wine swished around between both of your mouths

You were shocked before slowly easing into it your arms making it’s way around his neck as his rested on your waist before you both pulled away to catch your breath

“You did show me the point” He said tucking your hair behind your ear as you both continued

Sanji

It was New Years Eve and as tradition you and Sanji always prepared the food together. Much to Sanji’s dismay every year.

You guys have been inseparable ever since you met on the Baratie. Whether it’d be you serving tables or making some food you guys always seemed to be together it was kind of a known thing.

“Hey pass me the onions!” You said as he handed you some you started chopping them into mini squares

“Of course Y/n my sweet!” He said helping you in anyway he can while he prepared his own dishes you two were working hard for the feast later tonight as Sanji also made drinks for Nami, Robin, and of course you

“Sanji can you test the Pasta I can’t tell if it needs more sauce” You said as he took one and bit it

“This is amazing sweetheart!” He said you smiled he had given you that nickname a while back when you two were still at the Baratie.

“I think besides the pastries in the oven we’re good to go” You said washing some plates and Sanji dried them he nodded with a cigarette lit in his mouth you took it and put it in yours

“Been needing a quick smoke” You said finishing washing the dishes but not before the cook’s nose was bleeding like a fountain as he passed out “Chopper! I accidentally did it again!” You yelled as Chopper came running in

Ace

It was New Year’s on Whitebeards crew as everyone celebrated Ace had other plans on how to celebrate…

“Happy New Year Marco!” You said he bowed his head slightly “Happy New Years to you too N/n” He said as everyone was giving hugs so did you until Ace was your last hug of the night

You two hugged “I wanted to be your first but everyone held me back” He whispered into your ear as you blushed a bit he smiled before leaning in to kiss you.

As both your lips connected like a puzzle piece everyone seemed to be celebrating the moment but you could barely hear them. You could sense anything it seemed as if you two were the only ones on Earth at that very moment.

As you both pulled away for air Whitebeard raised his cup “To a new year. And a new couple!” He said as everyone yelled celebrating congratulating you two

“I hate you sometimes” You weren’t too fond of parties so he smiled nuzzling into your neck tired and hung over you sighed before he started kissing your neck sucking on it

“A-Ace. We’re in public-“ You said as he stopped taking your hand and leading you to his room as you both sat on the bed

“I don’t know whether I hate or love you for doing that” You said as he wrapped around your waist “Mmh I’m fine with that if it means getting to have you to myself for the rest of New Year’s” He said you shrugged agreeing as he slowly undid your blouse

#anime and manga #one piece #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #x reader #luffy x reader #x y/n #sanji x reader #ace x reader #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #vinsmoke sanji #portgas d ace #zoro x you #luffy x you #sanji x you #ace x you #new year #rushed

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1hot-mess-express1 · 2 months

Text

Eepy

WC: 3,084

Based on Eloguentmoon's Romantic Confessions prompt #12 “You are all I can think about.”

Summary: Satoru can't sleep, and it's all your fault

CW: Slightly suggestive

A/N: I wrote this way too fast, not sure I like it but the brain rot is getting to me (Not proofread). Also would love to have someone to Beta read/edit since I can never bring myself to do that haha, so if anyone is interested message me!

Satoru’s alarm blares through the otherwise quiet morning air, and he can’t be bothered to jump in surprise despite its ear-grating volume. With a groan, he swings his arm over to slap at his phone a few times, somehow effectively turning off the alarm before reaching up to drag his hand across his face and rubbing the grit from his sunken eyes. He sits upright, his head sagging slightly, his feet haphazardly placed on the ground, and he is staring at his wall, trying to gain the motivation to hoist himself from the bed. He doesn’t notice when his eyes droop and his hands fall limp at his side until he’s startled from his partial sleep by obnoxiously loud music wafting in from your shared bathroom down the hall. He curses before standing up and shuffling his way to the bathroom. Standing in the hallway, he looks at you through the mirror as you brush your teeth, getting toothpaste all over your cheeks before glancing up at him and smiling through your toothbrush.

“So you’re why these counters are always so dirty, huh? Knew it wasn’t me,” Satoru chuckles to himself while you spit the foam into the sink, effectively spraying the entire bowl.

You turn to face him fully, hands on your hips like some kind of angry cartoon character. “You’re so full of it, Gojo. You get toothpaste all over the mirror. Just the other day, I watched you wipe hair gel on the counter, too.”

“Did not, whatever, move. It’s my turn. I have an exam today, and I can’t be late.” He emphasizes his point by lightly shoving you with his shoulder before reaching for his toothbrush. With a grumble and a subtle stomp, you push into his side, reaching for the water cup.

“It's not my fault you slept in, loser.” You make a point of sticking your tongue out at him in the mirror before filling your cup and swishing your mouth out. Satoru reaches over your hand to grab the capless toothpaste before placing some onto his toothbrush and bringing it to his mouth.

“It's not my fault I was up all night either,” he mumbles through his toothbrush, lazily swiping at his pearly whites while glaring daggers into you through the mirror as you begin to brush out your hair.

“I fail to see how that’s my fault. You didn’t have to stay up and movie marathon with me…could have gone to bed at any point.” You elbow him slightly while yanking at a particularly gruesome knot in your hair and fail to notice the slight blush that covers his cheeks at your statement. You’re right; he didn’t have to stay up, but when he thinks back to last night, having you curled up to his side, head resting on his shoulder while you make the softest snoring noise, he can’t help but think that he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, right, you woulda cried like a baby if I said no. Can’t make it through a jump scare without crying about it,” he giggles to himself before ruffling your hair, effectively undoing your progress, and sliding out of the bathroom before you could yell at him.

He clicks the door shut and rubs his eyes again. God, he was so lovesick, literally.

The exhaustion from staying up late with you made him feel awful. His eyes were egregiously sunken in, his skin paler than usual, and his stomach twisted in knots. He couldn’t focus while studying, his mind always wandering to you; he wondered what you were up to, what movies you might watch tonight, and if you ended up texting that frat guy back. He thought about how cute you looked in his shirt, washing the dishes while you bitched about it not being his day to do laundry; honestly, he wasn’t paying attention. How could he when you were standing there, engulfed in his shirt, the late sun highlighting your profile perfectly, the back of your plush thighs staring at him, begging to be squeezed?

After you fell asleep against him during your now nightly movie binges, he found himself tossing and turning in his bed, unable to sleep while visions of you flashed through his mind repeatedly. Thinking of your hands on his thigh haphazardly as the tiny breaths you puffed out tickled his neck, your chest unknowingly squished into his arm so he could feel the slow rise and fall of your chest—nothing like his own erratic breaths as he tried desperately to keep his attention on whatever movie was playing. When he’d tuck you into your bed after you fell asleep, sometimes he couldn’t help but sit and watch you as you slept so peacefully, unaware of his presence, your hair falling around your face and your arms tucked close to your chin. He knows how creepy that sounds, but he was frankly lovesick, like he said.

After dragging his palms down his face, he pushes himself from the door with a newfound determination to just get today over with. He throws on a hoodie before glancing at himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. He stops for a moment and contemplates doing his hair or even throwing on jeans to try and feel more like himself, but even reaching his arms up to his head makes him feel exhausted, so with a groan, he throws on a beanie and decides not to think about it.

When he makes his way to the front door, he’s met with you, tipped over in a skirt, trying to pull on your shoes; the back of your skirt is riding up, nearly exposing your panties to him.

“Gojo?” You must have felt him staring, and he felt his face heat up in response.

He gulps the shakiness in his voice down before speaking, “Yeah?”

“Do you want to walk to class together today?” you stand up to your full height now, and he can’t help but give you a once over; he looks like a bum next to you, “I have a presentation today, so I figured I should show up a little early.” You offer him a smile as you pull a coat on, trapping your hair underneath it.

Almost on instinct, he steps towards you and pulls the hair out from your coat, noticing how good you smell when he drops the locks down to your shoulders, “Sure, but I gotta be quick, can’t miss another exam, or I’m fucked, think you can keep up?” He chuckles lightly before swinging his bag over his shoulders and peering down at you.

“That’s a pretty high demand, considering your legs are so freakishly long, but I’ll try.” you let out a breathy laugh before grabbing your bag and reaching for the door.

Satoru slips his shoes on and follows you into the crisp morning air.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look like shit.” You say while looking him over once and taking in his slightly disheveled appearance. Really, he didn’t look much different than every other overworked college student, but he didn’t look like Gojo. He always wore something bordering on too nice for school, dress pants or jeans and a button-up shirt of some kind, never sweat pants and a hoodie.

He scoffed, kicking at rocks on the sidewalk, “So you wore something nice once, and now I’m the bum? Jeez, that’s unfair.”

“Rude, first of all, I look cute in my sweats, I’ll have you know; secondly, it’s just…weird, you hate leaving your hair down and have told me on several occasions that you can’t stand the way it gets in your eyes, but also you just look sick, are you sleeping okay?” You spare him a glance before looking down towards your shoes, your voice growing a little quieter, “You really don’t have to stay up with me, yaknow?”

“No,” he stammers out a bit too fast for his liking, slowing his pace a little to look at you entirely, “I mean, that’s not it, I just…have a lot on my mind yaknow? Term’s almost over so I’ll be able to sleep all I want soon, and I’ll be back to annoying the shit outta you don’t worry” he lets out a hearty laugh at his last statement. You seem to perk up a little at this statement as if you were really worried about him.

The rest of the day drags on forever. He falls asleep in his last class, not stirring, even when his classmates hurriedly stuff their belongings into their bags. He lies there blissfully unaware of the world around him. That is until he’s jolted back to reality by a delicate hand pushing his hair away from his eyes. Groggy and unsure, he looks up to see you through the stubborn sleep in his eyes. You look upset, brows furrowed, and a hand on your hip while you lean down to be at eye level with him.

“That’s it, you’re grounded, Mr.” you huff out before pushing his shoulder in an attempt to get him to move from his place on the desk.

“Who the fuck’r you to ground me?” he mutters out, slowly making his way to stand before offering you an indignant look.

“At this rate, I’m starting to think I’m your mother,” you state before reaching down to grab his bag, but he swats your hand away, slinging it over his shoulder haphazardly.

“Don’t need you to baby me, ‘m grown yaknow?” he speaks through a yawn while stretching out his obscenely lanky body, showing off just the tiny bit of midriff, causing you to avert your eyes with a light flush to your cheeks, but this goes unnoticed by Satoru’s hazy mind.

“At this rate, I’m afraid you’ll fall asleep in traffic,” you grumble out, tagging behind him as he slowly trudges out to the parking lot. He trips over his own feet a bit, his exhaustion weighing on him like a ton of bricks, swaying slightly, blinking repeatedly in an effort to keep himself awake and upright, blue eyes burning from the afternoon sun. Your smaller frame, keeping pace with him, easily draws a look of concern on your features before you throw his arm over your shoulder in an effort to keep him walking straight. He recedes further into his hood in an effort to hide the blush creeping across his face. Your smaller frame does little to keep him upright; he’s certain that if he were to collapse right now, he’d take you both out, but he keeps this thought to himself, not wanting you to let go of him. He pulls you ever so slightly closer to him, nerves alive at the feel of your small hand on his back despite the copious layers between you.

You walk home the rest of the way in silence, only letting go of him when you breach the front door of your shared apartment, where Satoru drops his bag at the door with a dramatic thud before sulking over to the couch throwing himself across the couch and reaching for the remote, absentmindedly scrolling through Netflix.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you snap out before striding over to him, snatching the remote from his hands and moving to the edge of the couch before yanking his shoes off, halfheartedly tossing them in front of the door.

“Well, I was looking for a movie, grump ass,” Satoru mumbles pulling his feet closer to himself in embarrassment.

“Nope, I said you’re grounded, go get in your bed,” You really were starting to sound like his mom at this rate.

He looks up at you, absolutely flabbergasted, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words to tell you just how insane you sound.

“Gojo, you can’t hardly stand up straight, you look like shit, and pretty soon your grades are gonna start dropping…” You bark out before looking meek, fiddling with a stray thread on the arm of the couch to avoid his gaze before continuing, “I’m worried about you. What’s going on?” you look up at him with probably the most adorable look on your face and he’s not sure why, but he crumbles on the spot, he’ll blame the lack of sleep later if this goes poorly for him.

Folding his arms under his chin, letting his eyes fall closed he mumbles, “It’s your fault anyways,” silently praying you dont hear him but of course you do.

“How is this my fault?” you bark out with offense, “You’re the one choosing to stay up, besides I know you stay up after you put me to bed.”

At this, his eyes shoot up, and his face goes beat red. Have you heard him? Oh god, he wishes the floor would swallow him whole at the thought alone. You knew he put you to bed, too? Obviously, you didn’t think you teleported to your bed, but why didn’t you say anything? His heart was in his throat, and his eyes began to sting. This was definitely the exhaustion. He buries his face deeper into the couch, hoping to avoid whatever this is, but of course, you saunter around the couch and crouch down to his level, pushing his hair back with a tentative hand.

“Gojo…please, just tell me what’s wrong, I can’t stand to see you like this…” your voice barely above a whisper. He mumbles into the couch, tucking his head impossibly further into the cushions.

“What?” You lean in impossibly closer, and he feels dizzy. God, why were you like this?

His head shoots up from the couch, allowing you too see just how red his face is, blue eyes determined and brows trained down in anger.

“You’re all I can fucking think about, and it’s killing me!” He huffs out in a single breath. Your eyes go wide, and you bring your hand closer to your chest, leaning back on your heels and putting distance between you two.

When you speak, your voice is shaky and barely audible, “I-I’m sorry…” Shit, his jaw goes slack, and he can’t seem to find the words when your eyes glitter, threatening to spill over with tears at his sudden outburst.

“No, fuck, I-I…It’s not your fault. I’m sorry, I just…” He reaches out tentatively, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and rubbing soothing circles into your cheek, searching your eyes for the words that might make this better. He lets out a heavy sigh, looking down again, he thinks to himself fuck it. He looks back up at you, gently urging your head closer to his, “You’re all I can think about. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he lets out a breathy laugh, “I close my eyes to sleep, and all I can see is your cute little pout begging me to share my snacks, or the way you look first thing in the morning, hair a mess and eyes heavy with sleep, when I read I hear you laugh over and over again, that sweet giggle or the roaring laughter that has you rolling on the floor, I think about how you feel pressed into my side, the way I count your heartbeats to keep myself from freaking out cause I’m afraid to wake you. God, I think about how you call me Gojo still despite the fact that we live together cause you’re grossly polite; I just can’t get you out of my head.” His voice trails off at the end as your silence engulfs him in shame, and he can't bear to look you in the eyes anymore. He moves to pull his hand away from you, ready to rot in his room, never escaping his shame again, but instead, you place your much smaller hand over his; your hand is freezing, but his skin feels like it’s on fire.

“I-I don’t actually fall asleep on movie nights,” you stutter out and he looks at you brows clenched in confusion. “I…I just pretend to sleep so I can get closer to you, a-and that day I stole your shirt? I still had clothes to wear but you left it in my basket and I couldn’t help myself” you mumble out gaze trained on a loose thread in his hoodie.

He looks at you, blinking in confusion before what you said registers, and a devilish smirk makes its way across his features.

“You’re a filthy pervert, huh? Sorry, I never would have pegged you for the creepy roommate.” He lets out a hearty laugh as your face goes beat red.

“Hey, I know about your underwear collection, Satoru, if you play that game.” It's his turn to feel embarrassed as he reaches his uncannily long arms over the edge of the couch, dragging you over the side and settling you to lay on his chest.

“Say that again sweet girl,” he speaks in a whisper brushing your hair back and staring egregiosuly at your lips.

“I know about your underwear collection?...Satoru,” You state in a teasing tone, leaning slightly in to his lips.

He lets out a breathy chuckle before closing the distance and encompassing your lips in a restrained kiss. You let out the smallest whimper, and his grip tightens around your waist as he begins trying to coax your mouth open for him. He presses you against him, relishing in the way you shiver when his warm hand reaches under your shirt, feather-light touches causing you to squeak into his mouth. He wastes no time tracing the edge of your tongue with his slow and deliberate teasing. You reach into his hair, pulling lightly at his hair before pulling your face away from his, looking into his eyes, and pushing the stray hairs back away from his eyes.

“You’re still grounded; nothing nasty until you sleep, lover boy,” you smile through the words, and Satoru is certain that his heart stopped right then and there.

“Yeah yeah whatever, going to sleep now,” he says before rolling onto his side, tugging you close to him, burying his nose into your hair, letting his eyes fall closed as his breaths begin to even out, focusing on the way your chest rises and falls against his. For the first time in entirely too long he falls into a deep sleep, clutching tightly to your frame, oh yeah you were in for it when he woke up.

#jjk x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #satoru x you #gojo satoru x you #roommate!gojo

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alyswritings · 1 month

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First Period

Request: Could you write a fic where jj maybanks little sister gets her first period and her dad finds out and makes her feel really bad about it but then jj makes her feel better?

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

Summary: Y/N gets her first period.

Warnings: luke being a dick

(gif not mine)

Y/N walks into the bathroom, pulling her pants down and sitting on the toilet. She looks down, her eyes widening at the red stain in her underwear. Her heartrate picks up, the girl quickly pulling her pants up and turning around in the mirror, seeing the red substance on the back of her pajama pants.

"No. No, no, no." She mumbles, rushing to her bedroom. She pulls the blankets back, the blood on her sheets. "Fuck." She whispers, feeling panic start to build up. She doesn't have any items to help her or prepare her for this. JJ's not even home, the boy having to work, reluctantly leaving his sister home alone with the siblings' dad.

Y/N whines as she considers going to get Luke. Maybe he's in a rare moment of sobriety and would help her. She goes to leave the room, but stops as music starts to blast letting her know she's not getting her wish.

She contemplates texting JJ, but knows they need the money and she shouldn't make him leave early, especially for something that isn't life or death.

The girl jumps as the door slams open, her father storming in.

"The fuck you doing, you useless little bitch? You were supposed to get those damn dishes done." Luke sneers, grabbing a fistful of her hair making her cry out.

"I-I'm sorry. I'll do them now." Y/N whines in pain.

"You bet your stupid ass you will." Luke seethes, Y/N flinching as spit flies onto her face. Luke starts to drag her out but notices the stain on her bed. "The fuck is that?"

"I-I got my period." Y/N admits with a shaky voice, avoiding eye contact.

"Ugh." Luke grimaces. "Don't you have shit for that?" He questions, shoving her back.

"N-no. No, this-- it's my first one." Y/N says. "I didn't-- I didn't know it happ-" She flinches as Luke punches the wall, creating a hole the size of his fist.

"You fucking idiot! You're supposed to know better when it comes to all that nasty shit!" Luke shouts.

"I'm sorry." Y/N whimpers, tears springing to her eyes.

"Don't fucking cry, you little crybaby!" He roars in her face, Y/N doing her best to hold her tears back. "Fucking stupid disgusting little bitch. God." He storms out, slamming the door shut behind him. He raises the volume on his stereo, Y/N covering her ears to block the noise out, quietly sobbing to herself.

---

JJ quietly walks into the house, listening to the silence. He waits a moment, hearing the snores emitting from his father in the living room. He gently shuts the door and creeps through the house, keeping his eyes on his dad to make sure he doesn't wake up.

Ditching his bag in his bedroom, he goes to Y/N's room, gently knocking on the door before opening it and going in, shutting the door. He looks around, frowning when he spots Y/N curled up on the floor on a blanket, her head on her knees.

"Hey." JJ gently calls, Y/N's head shooting up, the boy only growing more worried at the tear stains on her face. He glances up, noticing the hole in the wall that he knows wasn't there before. "Did he hit you?"

Y/N sniffles as she shakes her head, relaxing JJ only the slightest.

"What happened, kid?" JJ asks, crouching in front of her, brushing some of her wet hair away from her face.

"I-I got my period." Y/N mumbles, sniffling. JJ's eyes widen momentarily, not expecting that answer.

"O-okay." He says. "What happened?"

"He got really mad." She says, her voice only a broken whisper. JJ sighs, grimacing at her having to deal with Luke.

"C'mere." He tries to pull her into a hug, but she pulls back.

"No." She whines. "No, I'm disgusting."

"No, you're not." JJ denies. "This is a normal process for girls, you're not disgusting." He assures.

"No, it-- it's in my underwear and on my shorts. That's why I have the blanket, I didn't wanna stain the floor." She starts to cry as she rants. "And it's-- I didn't know what to do, we haven't actually talked about this. And it's all on my bed." She sobs, JJ finally able to pull her into a hug. He gently shushes her as she cries into his shoulder, his hand resting on the back of her head and stroking her hair.

"You're okay." JJ mumbles in her ear. "You're okay. It's okay." JJ continues to hold her until her cries start to cease.

"Okay. Hey." He pulls away, smoothing her hair down. "Get changed, clean up however much you need to, put some toilet paper in your underwear, and-- and if you're okay with it, I'll call Sarah and Kie and get them to help out with-- with the whole... supply thing. Cause I can comfort you, but I know there's a lot of options and I don't know shit about any of them." He admits gaining a watery giggle from his sister.

"That's fine." She nods, rubbing her nose and sniffing.

"Okay." JJ nods. "And pack a bag. We're going to the chateau." He states.

"What about the sheets?" She asks.

"Uh... I'll throw 'em in a trash bag and we can wash them there." JJ says. "I'll handle everything. Just get ready." Y/N nods and JJ kisses her on the forehead before leaving to let her get changed.

---

After a somewhat long trip to the store with Kie and Sarah on FaceTime, the two siblings managed to get the correct items. JJ didn't realize how much they would cost, using the last bit of money he had for them and a candy bar Y/N was eyeing at the counter.

The two are at the chateau and Y/N had taken a shower, taking care of everything while JJ put her sheets in the washer.

Them, Pope, and John B are hanging around as they wait for the other two girls to get here for a movie night.

"Hey." Sarah greets with a smile as she walks in.

"Hey, boys, Y/N/N." Kie smiles, walking in, her arms holding a few pizza boxes and six pack of beer along with a six pack of Y/N's favorite soda.

They get greeting in return, John B taking the pizzas from Kie and putting them on the coffee table.

"And this is especially for you." Sarah smiles, holding a basket out to Y/N. The younger girl lights up at her favorite snacks in the basket, along with a few period products and some painkillers. "A care package."

"Yeah. And if you have any questions, need any help, or anything, you know you can always come to us." Kie assures, smiling softly at the younger girl.

"Thank you." Y/N grins, getting up and hugging them both, the older two returning her hug with tight embraces.

"Here, baby Maybank." John B holds out a plate of pizza out to her, sliding a soda can over to her side of the table.

"Thanks." Y/N mumbles, accepting the plate and sitting back down.

'Thank you.' JJ mouths to his two female friends, both of them giving him smiles and nods.

"Can you sit with me?" Y/N hopefully looks up at Sarah.

"Yeah, of course." Sarah grins.

"Oh, come on." John B whines.

"Sorry, John B. I'm spoken for." Sarah shrugs, sitting next to the tween, rubbing her leg for a short comforting moment.

JJ reaches out and gets his own food and a beer, ruffling Y/N's hair before he sits back down.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x sister reader #jj maybank x sister!reader #outer banks #obx #obx jj #outer banks jj #kie carrera #sarah cameron #pope heyward #john b routledge

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agendercrisisx · 4 months

Text

𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎

Geto Suguru x fem!reader

This is a gift for my best friend @realjungkook, who has a minor obsession with Geto, and I think I can make it even worse so here is my first JJK fic. Enjoy.

Warnings: dom-Geto, Geto calls reader; slut, princess, baby, no use of Y/N, creampie, fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, reader gets tied up, cow-girl, missionary, and fucking on a kitchen counter, pure smut, like there is no plot, maybe a little bit, but this is like 99% smut, also this is not proofread, so I apologize for that, so if you find any mistakes please let me know :)

Summary: It’s Getos’ birthday and you want to do something special for him, so you begin on an elaborate breakfast. You want him to wake up to an amazing meal, and make sure his day becomes absolutely fantastic. But he doesn’t care about any of that, he only cares about you. And he quickly gets the best birthday present ever… you.

Word count: 7026

Your hips are swaying to the music, as you work on breakfast. Suguru is still sleeping, or that’s what he was doing when you left him. His hair was flowing over the pillow, and the blanket was barely covering his crotch. You had looked at him maybe a second too long, he looked so good all the time, even sleeping.

He had been snoring softly, his chest rising and falling slowly. He was in deep slumber, off to dreamland somewhere. Hopefully dreaming about you. His chest on full display as you stared at your perfect boyfriend. A soft smile playing on your lips, while you studied him. He is so cute.

You flip the pancake, it flies in the air for a second before you catch it with the pan. You turn around to the music, just vibing while you check to the croissants in the oven. You feel genuinely happy as you prepare breakfast for your boyfriends’ birthday.

A warm hand snakes around you stomach, and you try to turn around to meet him. But his grip holds you still. His lips find your neck and he slowly start leaving kisses, mumbling sweet praises as he does.

“You making all this for me?” His voice is soft and barely above a whisper as he mumbles it into your neck. You smile and finds his soft hair, brushing a lock behind his ear.

“Thought you needed a proper birthday breakfast.” He nibbles softly at the skin behind your ear, and you let out a whimper.

“Be nice.” You sigh, but his teeth just graze your skin again. Sending a shiver down your spine, as your hand grasps his hair trying to pull him away.

“You do something for me, let me return the favour.” His hand on your waist pulls you back against his chest and you can already feel his excitement. His cock already hard in the small of your back, his hands move so they’re holding your waist tightly. He grinds his dick on your ass, and you let a whimper and almost fall forward. He holds you up, his grip so tight on your waist you’re sure they’ll leave marks.

He is so much taller than you, towering over you. Letting him easily watch what you’re doing.

“Maybe you should hold focus on what you’re doing.” He smirks and you let out a yelp, as you realize the pancake is smoking. You rip the pan of the stove and try to send a mean look in Sugurus’ direction, but he is still holding you, making you unable to look at his face.

“I wouldn’t be distracted if it wasn’t for you.” You scold him, and he let out a chuckle.

“Don’t blame me, I barely did anything.” He pulls your hair back from your face and kisses your cheek. He knows exactly what he is doing, and that’s the damn problem. He has too much control over you, he knows you too well. Knows every button to push to get the reaction he wants.

His hand squeezes your waist and presses his crotch against your ass again. You whimper and he bends down to have his lips just besides your ear.

“Maybe we should wait with the rest of the food? Take a break? Let me thank you for making me food?” His voice is soft and so full of lust, having your knees weak in seconds. You wanna give in, but this is his birthday, for once you should be the one taking care of him.

His lips suck a soft mark on your neck, and you let out a gasp, that was all he needed to do and you’re instantly all his. You turn around, he finally lets you, and you look up at his purple eyes. He’s smirking his eyes already dark and full of desire. He looks like he wants to devour you whole, mark every part of you.

He reaches around you and turn the stove off, you already forgot about that part. You’re glad he takes responsibility.

“Do you have a preference?” He looks down at you, barely able to hold himself back. Your thighs press together, god he makes you feel so alive. You whole body is on fire, you want him so much. He stares at you with a certain look and your putty on the floor. His hands are still on your waist holding most of your weight with how weak your knees are.

“I don’t care, I just want you.” You almost beg, and his smirk grows even wider.

“Jump.” You don’t care to think of his demand before you do it, he catches you in the air. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His cock rubs so perfectly against your core, and you let your head fall on his shoulder at the stimulation.

He takes a few steps and places you on the kitchen island, you let go of his waist and he takes a step back to look at you properly. You’re wearing his shirt and a pair of panties, that’s it. Your nipples are pressing against the fabric, his gazes catch them. He licks his lips and looks back up at you. He’s holding himself back, you know the moment you give him the go, he’s going to be on you.

You press your thighs together, and he detect the small move instantly. You want him so much, if he doesn’t do something soon, you’re going to combust.

“Am I allowed?” His voice is strained as he stares at you wanting an answer. He looks so fucking hot when he’s desperate. You want to tease he him, say no just to make him a bigger mess. But you’re just as desperate as him, and it’s his birthday. So, who are you to deny him.

“Yes.” You pant, his demeanour and voice have you craving him so badly. He moves before you even finish saying the word, and his hand is in your hard. Moving you like he wants you, pulling you face towards his. He smashes his lips onto yours. The kiss is desperate, hungry, and feral. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, and you open for him instantly. You fight for dominance for a second, but his other hand grabs your ass. You let out a soft moan and he uses the leverage to take control of the kiss. You move your hands to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. He massages your ass with his left hand, while his right has moved back to take a good hold of your hair. Pulling your head back and move you like he wants. He has full control.

When you break apart your chest is heaving and you’re gasping for air. His lips are covered in your saliva, he licks them letting the taste of the chocolate, you put in the pancakes, hit his tastebuds. His head is above yours and you must look up at him, even though you’re sitting on the counter he is still taller. He pulls you closer to him, pressing his cock against the tiny piece of fabric covering your pussy.

His hand falls from your hair down to your aching core, he presses a finger against your bundle of nerves, and you moan.

“These panties are useless, you should take them off.” His hand moves to the waistband of the underwear and snaps the elastic against your skin. You let out a soft gasp and he slowly pulls them down.

“Lift your hips?” He says, it sounds like a question, but you know it’s a command. You press yourself up, so he can pull the panties off you. The cold air on hitting your pussy makes you gasp, and he pockets the panties, and you give him a look. He just smiles, playing it off.

His hand cups your boob and you whimper as one of his fingers softly grazes your nipple. His hand moves further down, gripping your thigh, and pushing your legs open.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He is looking down, his eyes now fixated on your core, and the way you are slowly dripping on the kitchen counter.

“We should get something to fill that pussy of yours.” His gaze doesn’t falter, as he keeps eyeing your hole. You reach out and take a hold of his bicep. Pulling his arm from your thigh towards your core, he doesn’t resist, and lets you move him like you want. As his fingertips graze your pussy lips, you let out a gasp. You are way more excited than you would ever admit, the way he has you feeling by just a look is almost scary.

“Do you want something princess?” His voice is sultry, as his ring finger runs over your pussy, collecting your wetness on his finger. You whimper at his words and the subtle contact from his fingers have you clenching around nothing.

“You’re so damn wet baby, you want me to help?” His voice is low as he says it against your ear, letting his hand cup your pussy. You gasp as his grip gets tighter, his other hand still on your ass pulling you harder against him.

“Please Sugu.” You whisper pathetically against him, he kisses your neck pulling another gasp from you as his teeth graze your soft skin.

“Someone’s needy.” He presses a finger into your core, pulling a whimper from your lips. His fingers are long and slender and easily find the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He presses against hit, and you moan while clenching around him.

“Let’s get this shirt off you, shall we?” He pulls at the bottom of the shirt you’re wearing, which is by pure coincidence his shirt. You lift your arms, and he pulls the shirt over your head leaving your chest bare.

“You look so perfect without clothes on, you should do it more often.” He chuckles and let his hand fall to your waist. His other hand is still working that spot inside you, making you moan and whimper.

“More… please…” You whine, and he chuckles.

“You want my cock? Is that it?” He asks mockingly, moving his finger in and out of you. You try to piece some words together, but the way his fingers hits that spot, makes it increasingly difficult.

“… I… uhm, I want…” You answer gets interrupted as he adds another finger, and you can’t help but moan. His digits pump in and out of you, while you try to piece together a sentence.

“Come on princess, speak. Tell me what you want? Be good and tell me what you want.” You cry out as his fingers hit your g-spot again.

“I just… ARGH!” His thumb has found your bundle of nerves, circling it roughly, as your scream and clench around his fingers.

“I know you can do it baby, you just need to take a breath and talk to me.” He says against your ear, softly biting the lobe. You take a deep breath and for the third time to try to make a cohesive sentence.

“Okay, I… uhm… I want… I want… I want you.” You finally get out, and his fingers speed up. Rewarding you for how well you did, telling you without words that he’s proud of you. His fingers pull out and you whimper at the loss, but he’s quick to move his fingers to your clit. He runs small circles on it, you cry out and as a desperate way to stabilize yourself you grab a hold of his bicep.

“Let me fill you up? Make you come on my cock, like the slut you are?” He bites down on your neck, and you let out a gasp, he smiles against the skin and licks the wound. Softly soothing the bite and he moans at the weak metallic taste. He pulls his pyjama pants down, letting you look at his already hard cock. The tip is dripping precum, and you want nothing more than him inside.

“You think you can take me baby?” He pushes the head of his cock against your greedy hole, moving it up and down collecting the wetness. He pushes against your clit, you moan, and your grip around his arm tightens.

“I can take it, please just… fuck… please put it in.” You exhale as he dips the tip of his cock into you, barely doing anything. The head only being in a centimetre or two, but the stretch already feels so good. He’s always been big, he has always filled you up so nicely. And no matter how many times he works you on his cock, you will never get used to his size.

“You sure you can take me, you can take me, if I just…” He pushes the tip further in, and you scream. The stretch is on the edge of pain, but he feels so damn good. He fills you so perfectly and he’s not even halfway in. His fingers are still working your clit, making you squirm as he pushes in further.

“You can take me, right? Can take all of me?” He teases pulling out and slamming back in. Bottoming out, and the only thing you can do is scream and moan, squeezing around him and drilling your fingernails into his arms. He leaves it in, letting you adjust to his size and letting you catch a breath.

“Oh, you could take me, what a good girl.” He smirks and looks down at you catching your gaze with his own. His eyes are dark and filled with so many emotions, love and lust are the clearest.

The only problem right now is that this is his birthday, you’re supposed to do something for him. Not the other way around. Any other day, sure. But not today.

“… let me do- do so-something, *gasp* for you.” His cock twitches at your voice and the feeling of him throbbing in you makes it extremely hard to concentrate.

“Yeah? What do you wanna do?” His eyes are studying you, trying to figure out your plan.

“Let me do… the- the- work.” You can barely keep your mind clear enough to make a sentence, you’re nothing but a stuttering mess.

“Alright princess, I’ll let you do the work, but there is a catch. If you can’t make yourself, come in the next ten minutes, ill tie you up. Deal?” He always has the worst ideas, actually the best, but you won’t ever admit that. You’re not going to lose in this situation, no matter what happens. It’s really a win-win situation. But for once you want to be the one taking care of him, so you’re going to do everything in your power to make you both come.

“Deal.” He smiles and lifts you from the kitchen top. You wrap your legs around his waist and his hands hold you up under your ass and he moves to the bedroom. He’s carrying you with ease, you weigh nothing to him.

He throws you down on the bed, and you let out a yelp. He crawls on top of you, caging you with his body. He presses his pelvis down against your exposed cunt, and you whimper at the contact.

“No, no, no.” He stops, scared that he did something wrong, and you send him a reassuring smile. You caress his cheek with your hand, and he leans into it.

“The deal was I made you feel good, it feels kinda like the opposite right now.”

“Nope the deal was that you were in control, but the goal was still to make yourself feel good.” You pout and he can’t resist that cute face. He places a soft kiss on your lips and the pout quickly turns into a smile.

“Okay fine, but I’m in control and I’ve decided I’m on top.” You say trying to seem stern, but Sugurus effortless dom-energy is kind of hard to top.

“Alright princess, how do you want me?” You try to flip him onto his back so you can get on top, but he doesn’t move at all. He leans down his lips right beside your ear.

“You’re gonna need to tell me what you want, or you’re gonna need to be stronger if you want to manhandle me.” He teases and you want to strangle him, in mostly a good way.

“Fuck you!” You almost yells, and his face breaks into a crooked smile.

“Is that a request?” His lips still right against your ear, makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Just fucking lay on your back.” You push at his chest, still laying under him. He could easily take control and do anything he wants with you. And you wouldn’t mind one bit. But you made a deal, and he keeps his word.

He sits back up, and throws himself down beside you on his back, so you can finally get on top. Your hands move to his chest and takes a hard grip before you swing your leg over him so you’re straddling him. His cock is just touching you and you can barely think straight. But you need to, if you’re going to win this, you need to keep yourself together.

You take his cock in your hand, angling it so the tip is pushing against your cunt. You slowly sink down, he has already been inside, but the stretch is still there. You sink further down, and he fills you up in a way that makes your eyes roll back. And he’s not even halfway in.

“You need help princess?” He smirks up at you, and your eyes find his. You don’t want his help, you can do this yourself. You know you can. But he knows how much you love when he takes control, and he can barely keep himself still. You feel so fucking good, not even fully seated. He would never admit it, but he’s just as desperate as you, maybe even more. He loves the feeling of your pussy, he loves the feeling of you, all of you.

“Baby if you don’t sit down soon, I’m not gonna wait for the ten minutes to pass.” You’re torn, fuck you want to be the one taking care of him, but for him to tie you up and fuck you till you can’t walk. Is a dream too. But you won’t give up, not when he’s finally letting you be in charge.

“I can do it… I-I-I can do it. I know I can.” You whimper as you press yourself further down, moaning and gasping as he fills you even more.

“I’m waiting princess, also you only have three minutes left.” He grins and the time running out has you trying to get down faster. You lift yourself up, to fall back down. His hips snap up into you. You scream as he finally settles inside, filling you up fully. A groan leaving his lips, as he finally bottoms out. His hands move to your hips, softly caressing your skin, soothing you with his soft touches.

“So good baby, you’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you. Feels so good on my cock. Fuck baby you feel so good.” His voice is close to a whimper, and you smile to yourself. Victory.

“Fuck Sugu, you feel even better.” You’re not daring to move, wanting to adjust to his size for a second. You slowly grind down, and he groans as a whimper leaves your lips. His pelvis pressing against your clit, makes you clench around him, and another groan comes from his mouth. You’re just about to lift your hips to slam back down when he interrupts.

“Times up.” He throws you around and you barely get to blink before he’s on top. Fuck you love when he manhandles you, throwing you around and moving you like he wants. Using you for his own pleasure, but always making you cum so many times you can’t keep track.

“Aww poor baby, you thought you could be in control? You thought you could take me? You thought you could make yourself feel good without my help?” His dick is still deep in you, and you clench around him at his words. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he groans and breathes heavily.

“Do that again, and you won’t be able to walk for the next week.” He says between clenched teeth, you whimper at his words and clench around him again, and you are not sure if it was on purpose or not. Maybe a bit of both.

“That was dumb, baby.” His hips snap back and sets a brutal pace. Hammering into you, making you moan and scream as his cock hits your g-spot again and again. The tension in your body is already building, your legs shaking and a stream of sounds leaving your lips. He has you so close to coming, almost instantly, and he does it with such ease. It’s almost scary.

His arms are caging you, while his hips are pounding you into the mattress. You are clawing at his back, certain to leave marks. He doesn’t care, he kind of loves them. Making sure people know he’s yours and you’re his. His lips find your neck, biting down, drawing a scream from your lips. He sucks on the bite, making sure to leave a prominent mark.

“Fuck princess, you close? I can feel you clenching around me, trying to hold me in you. You don’t wanna let me go, huh?” He groans against your neck, and the tension building in your body is so close to snapping. You just need a little more.

“Please Sugu, just a little more… I’m so close!” You scream the last part as his pace speeds up, and one of his hands find your swollen clit. Rubbing it in rough circles, his dick continually hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Fuck baby… come, please… fuck… come for me…” He’s almost whimpering in your neck as he begs you to come. He wants to feel you come on his cock, he loves the feeling so much. He loves you so much.

His cock hits your g-spot again, and that’s all you need. Your legs shake and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You scream and clench around him, your vision going black as you spasm. It hits you like a wave, as you continue to scream. He works you through your orgasm, not slowing the pace of his hips or the circling on your clit. You keep coming, not even being able to think as he continues his torture on your body.

You gasp for air, as you finally calm down. Suguru’s biting his lip, doing anything in his power to not come right there. Fuck he is close, he can barely move without busting his load in you. But you need at least an orgasm more before he can come. His hips have slowed down, and his attack on your clit has stopped. He is barely moving, trying to hold himself together. You notice the restrain on him, and in no way is that fair. You got to come, now it’s his turn.

You move your hips to make friction on his cock. Arching your back, so your pussy can take his cock. You clench around him, on purpose this time, drawing a gasp from his lips. He bites down on your neck to try and punish you for the bratty action. You whimper but doesn’t stop. Slowly working him towards an orgasm.

“You need to come Sugu, it’s your birthday.” You whine, feeling so overstimulated from his fucking. But nothing can make you stop in this moment. He needs to feel good. It’s his birthday after all. You can’t be the only one to feel good.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” He lifts his head so he can look down at you, his eyes wild as they find yours. You can see the desperation on his face, he wants to come so bad. He just wants to make you feel good first, he’s dumb if he doesn’t understand he already did.

“Please Sugu, please, please, please. You need to feel good. Wanna make you feel good. Please Sugu.” You murmur, still working yourself on his cock. The stretch feels so good, the way his cock drags along you walls. Fuck you never want this moment to stop.

“Come on, please Sugu. I’ll do anything, just tell me what you want me to do?” You whimper, trying to convince him to come. He stares at your face for a second, before a sinister smirk appears on his face.

“Anything, huh? You would let me do anything, make you do anything? You want my cum so bad?” His voice is deep and lustful, as his eyes scan your face.

“Mmh, anything.” You nod, trying to prove how much you would do for him. Fuck you just want him to feel good too. And if it made you feel good too, then no harm done.

“Then I think I’m gonna stick to the tying you up.” You shake your head at his words, and he stops in his tracks.

“What?!” His voice is stern, but with a hint of concern.

“You’re the one who needs to feel good, not me.” You mumble, and he barely hears you.

“You don’t think I’ll enjoy seeing you tied up, completely at my mercy. Not able to do anything, but take what I give you. Oh, baby you have misunderstood something.” His lips are on yours, pressing you into the bed with his weight. His hand is in your hair, angling your face like he wants. Attacking you tongue with his own. You moan in his mouth, and he swallows it hungrily.

“You can do what you want with me, but you have to feel good yourself.” You point your finger at his face, he takes it in his own hand and presses it into the bed.

“Deal princess.” He finds you other hand with his and presses them into the bed over your head. He takes them in one hand, so his other can run down your chest and grab a boob. You moan as he rolls the nipple between his fingers, bending down so he can suck it into his mouth. You moan at the contact, and as his teeth graze the sensitive bud you wanna pull him away. But the hand holding yours in place, makes it impossible.

“Let’s get you strapped in.” He moves up so he can reach the handcuffs hanging on either side of the bed. He pulls your hand to it and closes the restrain around your wrist. He moves over to the other side and repeats the action.

“Legs too?” He looks down at you, from the position above you. You nod slowly, and a smirk grows on his face.

“Good girl.” He pats your cheek, moving down to your feet to restrain them too. He secures the other cuffs around your ankles, and you’re now completely at his mercy. Not able to do anything without his help. He loves you like this, he can do whatever he wants with you, and you can only scream his name.

“Remember our safeword?” His smile is soft as he waits for you to answer, you nod.

“No, I need you to say it, to make sure.” His gaze is serious, as he waits for you to say the simple word.

“Pineapple.” You say clearly to make sure he hears.

“Good job princess, you ready? Want me to fuck you?” You whimper at his words, and nod eagerly which draws a laugh from the man. He climbs back on the bed, pressing a knee against your core. Drawing a moan from your lips, as he bends down to catch your lips with his own. He bites your lip, and you moan into the kiss. He smiles, he glides his tongue on your bottom lip. You open your mouth as on command, and he quickly takes control of the kiss. Not that you can actually fight back.

His hand is in your hair, pulling you closer against him. His thigh hits your clit, and you moan loudly into his mouth. He swallows the sounds hungrily, pressing his thigh harder against you.

“Fuck, your moans are so hot princess.” He pulls back, letting you breathe. You try to pull him closer with your legs, but the cuffs hold you down against the bed. He turns is gaze to look at your legs, smirking as he looks back at you.

“You want something baby? You seem a little eager-, no scratch that, -desperate for me.” His hand glides down your neck, further down your stomach, to stop right above your pussy.

“I’m betting on you being soaked, am I correct?” You don’t get to answer his question before his fingers dips into you, pulling a moan from your throat. He collects your wetness on his fingers, grazing your clit on the way up. You gasp and he lifts his hand to his mouth, licking your release of his digits. He moans at the taste, keeping eye contact while he sucks on his fingers.

“You taste so fucking good princess. But now I think it’s time to fill you with my cum.” He pull his knee back so he can lay his hips between your thighs, grinding his cock against your slit. You whimper as his tip hits your clit. You pull on the handcuffs, wanting to touch him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, baby you know that’s just annoying, if you want something, ask nicely.” He says it so condescendingly you can’t help but laugh.

“Something funny, brat.” He spits the last words, this no good, you made him annoyed. But you can’t stop, you love teasing him, drawing a reaction from him.

“Oh it’s just funny you think you can make me ask nicely.” You smirk and a sinister smile plays on his lips, his arms are caging you and he lowers himself, so his lips are right outside your ear.

“Baby, I can make you do so much more than just ask nicely.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you try to press your thighs together, but the damn fucking restrains keeps your legs open.

“I’m gonna make you beg for my cock. You’re going to be a moaning mess in five minutes, I can guarantee it, you won’t be able to do anything but scream my name.” You bite your lip, trying to keep the noises in check. Fuck he can’t know how much of an effect he has on you.

“I d-don’t believe it.” You try to say with the most confidence, but it comes out more like a whimper than a challenge. But he takes the bait none the less.

“You don’t think I can baby?” He takes his phone from the bedside table, he taps on the phone a few times. He turns it around so you can look at it, it’s a timer set to 5 minutes.

“I’ll turn this on, if you beg for me before the timer ends, I win. And if you can keep strong, you win.” His voice is like poison as he whispers the bet in your ear, you nod instantly. You know you’ve got this, it’s five minutes, you can keep strong for five minutes.

“Let’s begin.” He presses start on the timer, and it’s counting down. He puts it back on the nightstand, and all his attention is on you again.

Your position is still quite vulnerable, as his rough hands slowly runs over your body. His hands reach your thighs, massaging them roughly. You try to press them together, but the damn cuffs refrain you from doing it. His thumb presses down on your clit, and you can’t help a moan from escaping. You lift your head to stare at your boyfriends’ innocent expression, he smiles. He moves back so his head is between your thighs, smiling up at you before he licks your slit. You whimper at the feeling, and his thumb continue the small circles on your clit.

His tongue moves in and out of your pussy, making you clench around it. He laps at your juices, sucking and flicking his tongue. His thumb speeds up, and you moan throwing your head back, as his tongue licks your walls. He knows what he’s doing, he always did, he always knew exactly what to do to make you come.

He eats you out like a man starving, he tongue-fucks you, moaning and groaning into your pussy. The vibration makes you scream, and he only takes it as a sign to keep going. He keeps drawing screams and moans from you, he removes his thumb so his mouth can give attention to your swollen clit. He licks it softly, and its already too much. You’re so overstimulated, but this man doesn’t seem to care. He sucks the small bud into his mouth, softly grazing it with his teeth and you scream.

You clench around air, and fuck you want him inside. You want him to fill you up, just something to soothe the ache in your core. You bite your lip as he sucks on your clit again, you pull on the handcuffs wanting to take a grip of his hair. His eyes meet yours, and you can see his mouth and jaw covered in your wetness.

He looks so fucking hot like that, between your thighs covered in you. He continues his assault on your clit, and you can feel the tension in your body building. You lift your ass from the mattress, pushing your pussy in his face, trying to get the small amount of stimulation to tip you over the edge. He presses you down back into the mattress, his hand on your stomach, keeping you where he wants you.

“Don’t interrupt me.” He snarls the noise coming deep from his throat, and you don’t dare say something back. His tongue continues lapping at your clit, and you’re almost there. You’re moaning and whimpering and Suguru knows exactly how close you are. Your heels are pressing into the mattress, and your hands are clenched into fist.

“Come for me princess.” You don’t need to be told twice, and a final lick on your clit has you coming. You scream as your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you see stars. Your legs shake and you wanna close them but to no avail. You arch your back, but he keeps you on the mattress. You whimper and scream as his tongue works you through your orgasm, sucking and lapping all your release from your poor pussy.

Your chest is heaving and you’re gasping for air, as you finally come back to earth. He lifts himself up on his elbows, your released smeared over his chin. He just grins as you look at him, a hand softly caressing your thigh.

“Good job princess, you did such a good job. I’m proud of you.” He moves up so he can kiss you, it’s soft and slow. Filled with love and affection. You can taste yourself on his lips, and his hand has moves up to hold your waist while the other is holding him up. He’s breathing heavily, his face right above your own. He sounds so fucking hot. He looks so fucking hot.

“What about you?” Your voice is small, you have been to occupied by your own pleasure, you completely forgot his.

“What about me?” He asks back, still only a few centimetres from you.

“You haven’t been feeling good.” You lock eyes with him, feeling almost guilty about the fact that you forgot about him. He laughs, a genuine, soft laugh.

“You don’t think I’ve felt good.” He flicks his fingers on your forehead, “are you okay in there? I felt fucking amazing, you make me feel so amazing, I don’t need to come to feel good.” He leans closer, his lips softly touching yours as he says.

“But if you wanna know, I was close to coming in my pants from just your taste and your moans. Don’t ever underestimate how good you make me feel.” You lift your head so you can press your lips roughly against his. He takes control instantly, making you moan into the kiss, as his tongue moves against your own.

“It seems like someone wants more, still?” He mumbles it against your lips. You moan against him, hoping that’s enough of an answer for him to take care of the ache inside you.

The timer going off interrupts you both, and you laugh. He reaches over and stops the annoying ringing tone.

“I won. I fucking won. Hehe.” You would do a victory dance if you could, but the damn cuffs.

“I guess you did princess, what do you want as reward?” You look up at him, a smiling curling your lips. He looks a happy, but a bit on edge, you know how much he hates to lose.

“I want you...” Your voice is small, and you can barely get the words out.

“You’re gonna need to be more specific baby.” He smirks, know exactly how much this affects you, and he know exactly what you want. He just wanna hear you say it.

“Fuck you.” You snap at him, and his smirk only grows wider.

“As you wish.” He moves his hips between your legs, pressing the head of his cock against you pussy. He doesn’t waste time and he quickly push into you. There is no resistance this time, and he easily bottoms out. You moan and clench around him, and he groans as you do.

“Fuck your pussy feels good baby, so fucking wet for me.” He mumbles, breathing heavily as he adjusts to the feeling of being inside you.

“Please move.” You beg and he whimpers into your neck as you clench around him, your pussy begging for some kind of friction. He moves, pulling almost all the way out before pounding back into you. You moan and he slowly pulls out again, dragging his cock against your walls.

He sets a rough pace, pumping into you. Hitting your spot again and again, your eyes roll back, and your vision goes blurry. He feels so fucking good, his cock feels so damn good. And he fucking knows how to use it. His hips are slamming on your pelvis, and the constant friction on your clit, from the way his pelvis rubs against you, has you fucking close again.

This man has a power over you, a power that makes you so damn weak. So damn quick. A whimper leaves his lips, and you know he’s close to. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him down, his lips meet yours. The kiss is desperate, and it’s kind of hard to concentrate on it. While his cock is beating your pussy, trying to make you a mess. You know he wasn’t kidding when he said you wouldn’t walk for a week. You’re not going to be able to walk at all.

“Please come in me Sugu, fuck, fuck, fuck, please, please, please, come, fuck, please come in me.” You’re a moaning mess, and Suguru is way too close to deny you your reward again.

“Only if you come with me.” His voice is rough, and his rhythm is getting sloppy, you know he can’t last much longer.

“Okay... FUCK! Okay, deal, deal, just please…” Your nails are scratching his neck, leaving prominent marks. His hand moves down to circle your clit, his hand is brutal. He doesn’t care about anything but your high, he needs you to come, before he even thinks of himself. But he can’t hold it in much longer. He needs your release.

He grinds his hips against your pussy, and the friction on your clit, makes you come immediately. You scream and claw at his back, whimpering and moaning as you squeeze around his cock. He lets himself go, and his cum paints your walls white. He groans and whimpers as his head is buried in the crook of your neck. He is pressing his pelvis against you, enjoying the moment of bliss as your pussy spasms and he continue to fill you up.

He lets his weight fall on you, relaxing into your touch. You softly scratch his back, barely able to keep your eyes open. He snuggles closer to you, his arms wrapping around your torso. His dick is still stretching you out, he may have a tiny bit of a breeding kink, with the way he loves to fill you with everything he’s got.

The feeling of him all around you, is the feeling of home. You feel so safe in his arms, and you could drift off to dreamland.

An alarm goes off, his high pitched and you both groan in unison.

“Don’t wanna get up.” He mumbles against your skin, and you laugh softly.

“If there’s a fire we need to get up.” You try to push him off you, but he’s too damn strong.

“Sugu, fire. Up. Now.” He groans but slowly gets up, he takes a deep breath and his face contracts in a grimace.

“It’s smell like the thing burning is in here.” You let out a yelp, desperately trying to get up.

“Fuck, no, no, no, the damn croissants, I made you croissants. They’re in the oven. I… fuck!” You stand up, but your legs immediately give out. Sugurus’ arms catch you and a soft expression is painting his features.

“You’re so cute baby, let me take care of it.” He makes you sit down in the bed and leaves to take care of the mess you arranged. Fuck you’re dumb sometimes, but to be honest, it’s all Suguru's fault. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have been distracted.

Maybe the end is a little rushed, but I'm really happy about it turned out. So I hope you liked it <3

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greedyhoneyz · 6 months

Text

I Can’t Lose When I’m With You

.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: kylian mbappé x reader

.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: there’s something joyous about the sounds of laughter.

.ೃ࿔*:･cw: none. fluff

.ೃ࿔*:･authors notes: this took me awhile to write. this isn’t my best works but ive been stuck with writers block. used google translate for the french. didn't proofread.

“Ćherie!” Kylian’s deep, resonant voice echoed through the dimly lit hallway of his Parisian home as the front door creaked open, and the scent of popcorn and a vanilla line candle filled his nose.

“Ćherie!” He yelled again, a hand pushed up against the hallway wall as he dug his feet out of his shoes. He kicked them aside and jeered his head to stare at the soft glare of light at the end of the hallway.

Dropping his bag at his feet, Kylian followed the light till he stood at the end of the hallway.

On the couch, bundled between a row of pillows and a throw blanket, (name) lay idly, her gaze glued to the blue light emitting from her phone whilst music boomed from her airpods. The tv played on the side of her face, Gossip Girl, a comfort show she watched countless times before.

Slowly, Kylian crept towards (name). He pressed his lips into a line and watched her eyes flutter close, her eyelashes meshing together and springing open with orbs filled with alert.

She stirred, her feet wriggling beneath the throw blanket, and turned her head to Kylian, beaming.

“Kylian,” She mouthed gently, her eyes glancing over his figure. She pulled her airpods from her ears and pressed herself against the couch, her phone tumbling aside. “You’re back.”

“Kiss.” She tilted her head back and puckered her lips as Kylian towered above her. He hung his head, a shadow casting over both their faces, and clasped her face between his hands. He leaned into her, his nose gently bristling against her cheek, and moulded his mouth around her lips.

Kylian savoured the taste of (name’s) strawberry gloss, uttering a strangled moan as he pulled away, leaving a lingering touch on her ample cheek.

He waddled around the couch, his movements slow and sluggish, and eased himself beside (name). Sinking into the cushioned seat, she placed her legs over his lap.

“How was the game?” (name) spared a peep at the television, a flash of black covered the screen indicating the episode had ended. She fixed her gaze on Kylian and smiled warmly at the touch of his hands gently scoring across her legs.

“Good,” He muttered calmly. His digits smoothed down her legs, coddling her ankles, and brushed upwards towards her thighs. He stared at her body with eyes filled with focus and fatigue, his fingers an emblem of his tenderness and care, and batted a gentle look at (name). “...I missed you.”

(name) felt her heart swell and heat flush across her face. She offered a shy grin and threw back words brimmed with solace.

“I missed you too.”

By 9 pm, nightfall had replaced the brisk, autumn evening. The house had fallen into a quiet lull, the tv had shut and faint snores filled the open air. Propped on either side of their sofa, Kylian and (name) slept blissfully– the throw blanket Kylian had once rustled aside draped across their figures and swaddled them like newborns despite the discomforting positions. The couple slept on, stirring at the occasional ding from a phone or beep from the alarm at the front door.

And when morning came, hunger had struck and Kylian had found himself awake. He blinked, baffled and dazed, and slowly slung his head upwards from his shoulder. He wiped a hand across his face, rubbed his tired eyes and shifted, drawing his eyes to the legs dangled across his lap.

He flashed a glance at (name), still content in slumber, and sluggishly dragged his legs inwards. He blinked, knocking his jaw open with a strained yawn and settled back into the couch cushions.

Kylian waded between feelings of fatigue and hunger and peeked a glance at the kitchen just metres away. Imagining a hot plate of eggs, a bagel smothered with cream cheese and a couple of slices of bacon on the side — his belly rumbled at the thought.

He wiped his mouth and carefully lifted himself from the couch, only to be weighed down by (name).

Kylian let out a breath and stared down at his girlfriend, her head hidden beneath her arm and a pillow. He watched her chest rise and deflate in a continuous motion as minute snores whistled from her nostrils.

He smiled, enamoured by the sight and carefully raised his hand. His palm curved around her leg, whisking across her skin delicately, upwards and downwards. He dragged his hand towards her ankle, smoothed the nub and trickled his digits down to her feet.

He curved his hand to the back of her feet and began to wriggle his fingers across her feet.

Kylian was tender at first, his digits barely fluttered against (name’s) feet, which induced the occasional twitch and curl of her toes. His next move was stronger, a rutted attack, as his fingers wormed across her feet in ragged lines, inducing an agitated mewl.

Kylian’s final move was subtle, yet effective. He moved his fingers diligently against her feet and applied pressure on points he had accustomed himself to, sending electric nodes which signified as jolts

across (name’s) body.

She flinched, a groan escaping her tired lips and began to stir, growing more agitated the more Kylian continued his assault before her mewls began to grow higher in pitch.

(name) sprung her eyes open, letting out the loudest giggle and threw back her head. She kicked her feet in an attempt to ward off Kylian’s attack but fell struck in a fit of laughter.

“What are you doing?” She managed a few words between her laughter as teardrops began pooling down her cheeks.

“It tickles!”

“Tes pieds sont si sensibles,” [Your feet are so sensitive,] Kylian mused softly, racing his digits up across her feet once again, tickling her. “I like it.”

“Kylian, wait-”

“Je n'arrête pas.” [I’m not stopping.] He cooed assertively, sending (name) an amused look.

“Kylian!” (name) whined, she wriggled beneath her boyfriend and laughed gleefully with a grin that reached from ear to ear.

“Don’t stop!”

No longer dazed by slumber, (name) found herself engulfed with joy and never-ending laughter as Kylian tickled her feet and laughed alongside her. She was delighted, he was amused. Her delicate laughter soothed him and his mischievous antics felt her panting for breath in their Parisian home that stood cloudless beneath the frisk, bitter early autumn air.

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe x black!reader #black!reader #football imagine #football x reader #football fanfiction #football fanfic

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luveline · 1 year

Text

radio cure | steve harrington

an unhappy you meets steve harrington and his merry band of dorks. he shows you that some things are worth sticking around for.

5k words, fem!reader she/her used, tw mentioned/implied suicidal ideation please don’t read if that’s going to have a negative impact on you (no graphic imagery. but reader is passively suicidal and dealing with the other factors of that), robin steve + eddie chaotic trio, friends to lovers, multipart, swearing, friendly teasing, sarcasm, artist!steve, 90s au

.•° ✿ °•.

You're twenty two when you decide to kill yourself.

It's a warm day. The sun shines like a flower bud unfurling, a faint hint of golden yellow masked by cloud cover. You're savouring the brief moment of blessed cool as you walk around Lover's Lake, your ipod in one hand, headphones around your neck.

The flowing pants you're wearing help mitigate the heat around your legs, an itching, slick thing. Warmth feels like oil on your skin. You tip your head back and smell the grass, the lake water, the dry mud under your feet. You're thinking it's as nice a day as you're going to get this week, and you're forlorn, because it doesn't make one drop of difference.

You look up at the blue sky, squinting against the light, and you think it to yourself resolutely. This is going to be my last year. When your savings run out you're giving up.

It doesn't feel conclusive. It doesn't feel scary. It's just a decision.

You walk over dry grass until you reach the short pier on the leftmost side of the lake and sit down. You pull your headphones over your ears and bite your lip when the music isn't loud enough. The dock is rough. You're uncomfortable immediately. You want to go home, but you pull out your little craft sketchbook made of yellow paper and a pencil you've sharpened with a pen knife, staring out across the lake for something to strike you. A duck. A goose. Anything at all.

The thing is, you don't want to draw. You aren't some master, though you try, and you aren't a natural talent… You try sometimes. Nothing seems right. Most people have a style, charm, but you could draw a picture perfect copy of the day in front of you and still feel the lack; you have no idea what it is that makes other people's art beautiful, and that's the problem.

It doesn't matter. You put the sketchbook away. You have nobody to impress but yourself, and besides — you're not the first person in the world to feel uninspired. Thousands of people must feel it everyday, and they aren't throwing any pity parties. You peel off your cardigan, ball it up, and lay down with the fabric behind your head. You can hear the soft pant of a dog across the way, the happy chattering of a Frisbee game. Under the dock, little bodies thwack the planks, tiny green frogs that occasionally hop in the grass nearby.

You press your arm against your stomach and you fall asleep not long after that, your ipod playing music a few feet away.

—

Steve Harrington doesn't know why he stops to look at you. You're just a girl enjoying the summer sun, and he doesn't mean to be a creep. But you've left your stuff laying in small hills around you and your body's lax. You're asleep.

He kneels down next to you. Enough room to swing away if you try to stab him for perving. He isn't perving, he reasons. He wants to check if you're okay.

He tilts his ear toward you and holds his breath.

You're snoring.

Good, he thinks, crawling back to the far side of the dock, at least two feet between you. You're sleeping.

He sits down, knees up, hands between his thighs, and looks out across the lake. The sun shines high as the clouds shift to reveal it in full force, a burning yolk. It kisses every bit of green foliage it can find, dappled sunlight everywhere he looks. Steve is out today to draw whatever beauty he can find, and the light across the water riding the rippled waves of ducklings and brave human swimmers seems nice enough. He peers out of the corner of his eye at you, deems you still sleeping, and takes the pocket sized sketchbook out of his denim jeans.

His pencil is a stub folded between the pages. He lays down graphite in big sweeping lines, more focused on the impressions of shape than the specifics. It's hard to see a coloured world in black and white values. Steve isn't great — he's been drawing for two years now, and that feels like both a lifetime and a flicker. Every day he learns something new about making art, and every day he looks back and feels embarrassed at what he made before. The start of his sketchbooks make him cringe. This one is a mixture of pride and tepid reluctance.

Being bad at something is a stepping stone at getting better. Not every drawing he makes is good, but hopefully it's teaching his brain to be better. He doesn't know what he believes about art but he likes to draw, and he has gotten better.

The point isn't in being good, he'd told Robin. I just need something to do. Before I go crazy doing nothing.

He draws the lake. He loves the way it comes into being. Ten minutes can turn grey splotches into trees, and bluegrass, and the heat rising off of the water. He draws a duck when it swims really close, though he has to abandon it when it swims away, leaving a half formed lovecraftian creature to haunt the page. He draws the dock, and his shoes, and your shoes, and your hand curled weakly next to your ipod. He draws your wrist, though he stops quickly.

He looks at your sleeping face.

Steve thinks you don't look like anyone he's ever seen before. He notes your lashes, your brows, and your nose. The sun emphasises the fine hairs across your cheek, and the texture beneath them.

He wants to draw your face, but he thinks drawing your hand and your shoes might have been too much without permission. He lets you sleep for a while, and then when he realises the heat is making him dizzy, he can't leave you there to bake.

He rips a sheet of paper out of his sketchbook and shoves the small book back into his pocket. The dock groans as he stands, and he casts a shadow over your face and upper torso.

"Hey," he says.

You flinch awake.

"Don't panic," he says, which is something a pervert might say, so he amends, "don't freak out, I'm just worried you're gonna cook your brains. I didn't want you to get sick."

You sit up. You look kinda cooked already, blinking and disoriented.

"You okay?"

You don't look up. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you for waking me up."

"Yeah, sure. Here."

He holds out the drawing of your hand. He doesn't think it's good, doesn't want you to see it, but he already did it. Giving it to you will ease his guilty conscience.

It's unlike Steve to bail, but he bails. Your fingers are barely brushing the paper when he's wiping his palms on his thighs and stepping away.

"Bye," he says, uncertain. "Try not to fall asleep again!"

—

It's not so weird. Sure, he'd made your fingers skinnier than they really are, and he made your shoelaces look like spaghetti, but they're good drawings.

You're trying to read a book in the corner of Benny's when he finds you a second time. He hovers, and you're not cool, you aren't, you're working with what you've got. Not many people skills.

“Hi,” he says.

"They were good drawings," you say, in lieu of your own hello, thumbing at the pages of your book all full of jumpy nerves.

"Thank you, I'm… new to it. My best friend, she's– she's actually nicer than she should be about them, I can't lie. I was going to say she thinks I should be banned from picking up a pencil, because I wanted to make you laugh, but. She's nice when it matters."

You can't keep looking down, it wouldn't be polite. You dog ear your paperback and let it lie against the tabletop, greasy to touch but you doubt it'll make a difference. The book is old and had cost you 50 cents at Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's yard sale.

He's tall. Hair falls around his face and curls gently against his cheeks, a sandy brown. He's wearing a hat. He hadn't been wearing one the day he'd given you his drawings, but you can understand why he needs it. The sun is an inescapable force: sun stroke has half the town down for the count. The whole reason that you're in Benny's is because it's air-conditioned and shady.

"Do you want to come and eat with me and my friends?"

You say no automatically. "No, that's okay. I don't wanna," —you don't know what to say, so your voice hikes up awkwardly— "impose."

"You don't have to, but if you want to, you're not imposing." He twists at the waist and nods to a booth across the room, where a boy and girl sit. When they see you seeing them they look away. "Sorry, they're dorks. There's usually more of us, but Jon's in work and Nancy's in Emerson, so…" He seizes up.

You wonder why people are so afraid of being awkward. It terrifies you, to think one day you'll fuck up and be awkward and the other person will remember it and laugh, but looking at him now, you can't see why it matters. It actually makes you feel better, knowing he's worried too.

"I only brought enough for the milkshake," you say.

"I'll get you something."

"That's– no, that's okay."

He hesitates. "You'd be doing me a favour. I love them, really, but I can't stand it when they're together, they bully me."

It would probably be worse to reject his offer and sit here lonely while they laugh and talk. You'll worry they're talking about you.

"Okay," you mumble, picking up your book and your milkshake.

He grins at you and you follow him through the diner. It's not busy today, but there's still feet to fall over and backpack straps to tread on, so you watch the floor.

"My name is Steve, by the way."

You tell him your own name, which brings another quick smile to his face. He slows as he approaches the booth of his friends and beckons for you to slide into the empty side before following you in.

"Guys, this is– Eddie, what the fuck is that? We said no gross shit at the table."

"This, my friend," Eddie says, words rolling around his mouth grandly, "is a monster."

It's a little man made of coffee stirrers, sporks, and chewing gum seams. It's kind of gross, but it's cute. Grossly cute and cutely gross.

"We're about to eat."

"You're stepping on his artistic licence," says the girl, her voice distinctly pretty and a tiny bit hoarse.

"Disgusting," Steve says.

You shift on the leather chair underneath you and anxiety pulses in the bottom of your stomach. They're ignoring you, but not really. Both have lifted their eyes to look at you, and, in sync, they smile. The girl's smile is startling, lip gloss lips and white teeth. Eddie's is softer, less happy and more reassuring.

"I'm Eddie," Eddie says, though you'd figured it out. "That's Robin. Do you think my monster is gross in the gross way or gross in the sick way?"

"He's cute," you admit to thinking. "But the gum…"

"I didn't have any glue."

"Steve told us about his drawings. If he's holding you hostage right now, blink three times, okay?" Robin jokes.

Eddie and Robin lean their shoulders together and start a bit where they count your blinks. There's murmurings about shelters and how they can definitely throat punch Steve hard enough to make him mute. You're stunned at being the object of a joke and don't know how to react, feeling like you've been whacked and now there's cartoon birds flying around your head and they can all see them.

Steve grabs the menus out of the rack and slaps one down in front of everybody. "Alright, team. You know the drill. Last person to choose what they want has to buy drinks." He spares you a glance. "Except you. She's on me because hostages don't pay for themselves."

"I would make such a pretty hostage," Eddie says.

He is pretty, in fairness. Dark curls thick with baby hairs frizzed up in the summer heat frame a pale face. He has big brown eyes.

“And talented,” Robin adds, poking the gum man until he falls flat on his face. The head pops off and Eddie shrieks, not loudly but with a passionate upset about him that makes you laugh.

Steve leans over. “Please choose quickly so I don’t have to pay for Robin's lemonade addiction. No pressure.”

“I’ll just have what you have.”

“With a coke?”

“Sure.”

“Robin?” he asks.

“I want a cheeseburger with a lemonade and then, if you will, another lemonade.”

She dumps her menu in Eddie’s lap, who looks up from his decapitated figure with a look of defeat.

“Wh- hey, she cheated. She hurt my dude.”

“Rules are rules.”

Eddie sulks and accepts everybody’s money. He slinks up to the window like an annoyed cat. After he’s placed the order, he looks back to the table and flips the bird covertly.

“So, how old are you?” Robin asks.

“Twenty two.”

“How’s that?” she asks sympathetically.

“Robin.” Steve chides. “She’s twenty so she thinks she’s a baby.”

“I am a baby. This is my first year not being a teen, which means it’s my first year as an adult. I’m one.”

“We have this argument a lot,” Steve says, though not with any bravado. Simple explanation, his voice soft and warm. “When being an adult actually begins. It’s not the adult part that even matters, it’s the not having rules that fucks people up. Look at Eddie. He’s been out of school for a year and he’s been arrested three times.”

You frown, not because his getting arrested would bother you (depending on the charge), but because you’re surprised, and surprise is quick to appear as anger on your face. His shirt and rockstar rings, his nice smile, his gum man — you’d assumed he was a huge nerd. His arrests are a surprise.

“What for?” you ask, before you can remind yourself that invasive questions are rude.

“Once for indecent exposure– completely accidental. Once for trespassing, and the last time was because he chained himself to a tree outside of Tawny’s bar. They weren’t cutting the tree down,” Steve says. “He, and I quote, wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

“Don’t give away my RAP sheet when I’m not here,” Eddie says, placing a tray of drinks on the table carefully. Three cokes and two lemonades.

“It’s not a RAP sheet if you don’t actually get in trouble. They let him off ‘cause they know his uncle. And also ‘cause it’s Hawkins.” Robin slides her slice of lemon between her teeth, shepherding her two lemonades as far away from everybody as she can, looking extremely hedgy. “I’s a bitch sheet.”

Eddie feigns for her second lemon slice and snickers when Robin defends it, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

“I paid for it!” he says through laughs.

Your hands start to shake. You hide them under the lip of the table but it’s no use. Soon your legs are shaking, your arms, all of you. They’re minute tremors, both invisible and impossible to ignore. You glue a smile to your face and try to calm down. You’re overwhelmed and you don’t know why — this isn’t a new feeling. You are not the first person to feel this feeling.

Then why does it feel like it?

Sometimes, everything gets so scary so quickly, and you sit there wondering why it isn’t scary for everybody else, and you wonder why they can’t see it on your face how scared you are, and they must see it? They must know you’re fucked.

You’re shot with thoughts. These people, you could be friends. All you have to do is make a good impression. But how should you go about that? How do you talk? What do you say?

“I draw too,” you say, hands clamped between your knees.

Steve’s eyebrows do this little dance. It’s adorable, and it makes you want to be his friend most of all.

“You do?”

“I do. I’m not good, I mean. I used to be better. I’m out of practice.”

“I draw,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Jonathan, too. God, you should see his shit. And he’s an even better photographer. But I draw shitty zine comics. And Robin does the typesetting for me.”

“Oh, wow,” you say genuinely.

“Nancy writes,” Robin says. “So we’re, like, a jerk circle of artists. She’s good, too.”

“She’s good,” Eddie imitates fondly. “I bet she is. Robin’s gonna be a great writer as well, once she gets all these private Nancy lessons.”

Steve puts a hand up and Eddie promptly shuts up. He takes a big, sheepish slurp of coke and you feel like you’ve said something wrong though you barely said anything at all, sipping at your own coke.

“What are you reading?” Robin asks.

You slide the book toward her so she can see for herself. “The Sea, The Sea,” you tell her. “It’s about, uh,” —you’ve only managed to read the first thirty pages, and that’s after reading the first ten five times straight— “this guy named Charles, he’s unique. He’s uh, annoying.”

“You know, Nancy used to have a book that looked just like that,” Steve says.

You laugh weakly. “It must be popular. I got it at a yard sale.”

“Can I open it?” Robin asks.

“Of course. It’s already pretty beat up, I don’t think there’s anything you could do—“

Robin opens the book with one hand, thumb and pinky fingertip pressed to either side, and tries to take a sip of her drink without looking, tipping her glass of lemonade straight into the pages of The Sea, The Sea. What doesn’t get soaked up by your book rushes down the length of the table and into her lap.

Steve reaches across the table to grab up the glass, but the damage is already done. Your lips part. Eddie gawps, throwing a hand over his slack-jawed face.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she says, looking at you with wide eyes. “I have the worst case of butterfingers ever, I’m sorry.”

It’s as if she can’t believe she did it. You fluster when you realise they’re all waiting for your reaction.

“It’s okay!” you say, as loud as you’ve ever spoken in public.

“You can be mad,” Steve assures you.

“No, it was an accident. I’m not mad, it cost fifty cents, and it was totally garbage anyway. I’m really not mad.”

Eddie stuffs napkins under the table and Robin shivers uncontrollably, dishing ice cubes from her lap and the seat. Steve, laughing now, says, “God dammit, Robs,” sounding like she might be the most golden person on the planet.

—

Steve works his hat over your hair the best that he can. “There. Now you won’t die from heat stroke.”

You bring both hands to the hat to encourage it down onto your head. “Steve,” you say, sounding unsure on how to continue.

“It’s on loan.”

You nod and look out over the lake, where Eddie stands at the edge of the dock. "It's getting way too fucking cold for this," he complains, in swim shorts and a shirt, gazing in distrust at the lake’s shimmering surface.

Lake is kind. It is technically a lake, but also technically a really, very pathetic lake that feeds from a pathetic tributary. If you stationed Steve on one side and you the other, he would strain to hear you talking. Likely infected with brain eating amoeba or tadpoles or leeches. Slimy things. It’s less disgusting than Lover’s Lake, a condom cesspit, so that’s a plus.

You aren’t looking any more eager about jumping in than you had been, thighs naked and kissed by the hem of an oversized, black t-shirt. It’s wrinkled. Steve kind of loves it.

"Just jump in, you big babies," Robin says.

She'd already jumped in, screamed at the cold, and now languishes in the chest height water in front of the small fishing dock with a smug smile on her face. "Not you," she says to you. Steve rolls his eyes.

You shake your head, hair slipping out of the hat. You sigh as you pull it off and readjust the sizing band.

"I guess I am being a baby,” you say to him quietly. “The sun’s been out all day, how cold can it be?” You’re not feeling confident. It seeps into your voice, to which Steve lends a placating smile.

"Really fucking cold."

"Eddie, shut up. Y/N, it's fine. You'll like it."

“I really don’t think she’ll like it.”

Steve doesn’t either, but he wants you to feel included, and less tense. Distract you from whatever it is that’s giving you such a big case of the frownies, and prove he and his friends aren’t just book-ruining hooligans.

Eddie finally jumps in over Robin’s head, disappearing into the not quite blue water with a cut-off curse. He appears again a few seconds later, black hair slicked to his face, neck and shoulders, wiping the water from his eyes as he splutters and giggles boyishly.

“Shit, Stevie,” he says. “Not that cold after all.”

“You don’t have to jump in, you can just ease off the dock, if that’s better,” Steve says.

“Frogspawn,” you murmur.

Steve does a bunch of flexing, throws in a jumping jack for good measure. “Alright,” he says, holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”

You shake your head gently.

Steve doesn’t wanna embarrass you further, or insist when you really don’t want to, so he nods and smiles and takes a running jump into the lake. Robin and Eddie both swear and dart away as his body collides with the surface of the water, and he sinks like a well-practised stone to near enough the lake bed, feet gracing slippery pond weed and things he’d rather not think about. The air shatters out of his lungs and the water, despite the summer sun, is cold. It feels amazing — he hadn’t realised how warm he was until the temperature abruptly shifted.

He rushes back up to the surface and shakes his hair out like a dog, water running down his face and shoulders in fast thick rivulets. He peels his eyes open and turns to find you still hesitating on the dock. Robin splashes at Steve in retaliation for his hair splatters and Eddie laughs evilly as he joins in.

“Come on!” he begs you. “I told you, they bully me! I need back up!”

You toss his hat on the dock. The jump you take into the lake is timid but enough to miss the frogspawn and not break your legs, a cold splash of water and you’re there. Luckily, your presence has Robin and Eddie both stopping in their cruel tracks, and you don’t have to save Steve after all.

Your happy laughter is stunning.

"It's so cold!" you squeal, water in your eyelashes.

Eddie takes one of your hands and together the four of your tread into deeper water.

"Now that all who can be present are present," he says, falling into his dungeon master drawl, "it's time we commence the The Tournament. Swimmers, take your stations."

Everyone falls into line. You don't know what you're falling into line for, raising your timid voice to ask, "What's the game?"

"The game is me and you dunk the ever-loving out of dumb and dumber," he says.

"Hey, what?" Robin asks. "How come you get her? She's a total wild card, she might win the game all by herself."

"Or she might really suck. We don't know, and so in the interest of fairness, I propose she swims with me." Eddie's wet sleeve sticks to your skin as he nudges you. "But you don't suck, do you?"

"Um…"

"Attagirl. On your marks, get set, go!"

You spend an hour like that. Steve and Co, they're stupid, but they aren't stupid stupid. The Tournament is a series of chasing and dunking (stupid but fun) wherein you get to throw yourself on the shoulders of the person you're chasing and submerge them (stupid again). You can't hold them down, though, they aren't trying to drown one another. Much.

The sun regretfully starts to set. If it's anything like the last few days, that means it's likely near 10PM, and they're all working tomorrow.

"Do you have work tomorrow?" Steve asks in concern, after he's heaved himself up onto one of the huge stones on the opposite side of the lake.

Cattails obscure you from view on your own stone. Across the lake, your possessions lay thankfully unscathed on the dock. Robin sits as close as she can to Steve on his rock, kicking water at Eddie every time he tries to approach.

"You fucking rat," he fumes, mouth full of lake water.

"I'm not really working right now,” you say.

"Do you need a job?" Eddie asks. "They're hiring— Harrington, restrain your creature! They're hiring at the Palace Arcade, aren't they?"

Steve nods voraciously. "Yeah! Hey, we can get you an interview no problem, they probably won't even ask you that many questions. I mean, Keith worked there."

"Don't be mean about Keith," Robin says, though she doesn't really like him. He thinks it's akin to defending your deadbeat older brother.

"I don't know, I think even a couple of questions might be too many," you worry.

"How come?"

You pull the fluff off of a cat tail, and it explodes in your hands. Steve yanks one down to do the same, watching the fibres float across the lake's disturbed surface with a cool breeze. Robin shivers beside him, sensitive to the cold in her wet clothes, the adrenaline of swimming and almost but not really dying wearing off.

"I'm bad at stuff like that."

"I don't think anyone's good at interviews at our age," Eddie says, nose wrinkled as cat tail floats toward him. "We're, like, babies."

"I always feel like I'm really old," you confess. You look down at your naked knees. "Like I wasted all the good years already."

"What, school?"

"And the four years since," you say.

Steve gets it, in a way. His high school years sucked, and he'd maybe thought he'd get out of Hawkins on a track or swim scholarship, basketball — anything. But he's here still, and at first that hadn't been what he wanted. Sure, he'd expected it, but in different ways.

Steve pushes back the cattails to see you clearly. "I didn't even get any real good years until just now," he says, as kindly as he can.

"I failed senior year twice," Eddie speaks up, "I kinda thought I was wasting my life too, but if I didn't, I wouldn't even know Robin, and she's, like, my best friend."

He throws his hands over his face before Steve can kick a huge wave of lake water into his eyes. "Get your own," Steve fumes. He's not really mad.

"Yeah, these are the good years," Robin says, "probably. I never had guys fighting over me in high school." She laughs and tucks her wet hair behind her ears, her freckled cheeks pale in the oranging light of the sunset.

You hold your hands out for Eddie and he finally climbs onto one of the rocks. From this side of the lake, you can watch the sun set behind the silhouettes of Hawkins town a half mile away. It dips slowly down, meandering almost, a pearl sinking through layers of raspberry pink and orange and, as Steve holds his breath, that sudden flash of electric green.

"I'm blind," Eddie mumbles, falling back into the rocks and grass.

"Shit, that was cool." Robin stands up and stretches. "I'm so cold I'm gonna die right here. Steve, do you still have a blanket in your car?"

Steve looks over at you again. You look shell-shocked, not quite awed. He doesn't know what emotion you're feeling, only that you're feeling it, eyes wide and set across the lake at the darkened sky, lights from the buildings like stars shimmering in your pupils.

He stands up and offers his hand to you. When you take it, he pulls you up without hesitation, not a flicker of doubt or an ounce of struggle.

"I'll get you that interview," he says, questioning, soft. If you want it.

Your fingers linger in his palm.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you."

"Come on!" Robin says, taking your other hand and tugging without apology, barefoot over the asphalt path surrounding the lake. "Before the gnats come out."

"We might see fireflies if we stick around," Eddie says.

They bicker. Steve lets go of your hand and you and Robin walk just ahead, your head bobbing between his two arguing friends like you're watching a quickfire tennis match.

You turn to the side and hide a smile. Steve sees it, and he figures it's a start.

"Munson," he hollers, "how about you stay and watch the fireflies and you tell us all about it? Me and the girls aren't gonna freeze out here so you can get back in touch with nature."

It's a bad joke, but it works. "Fuck you, Harrington. The ladies wanna see the lightning bugs, don't you?"

"I can't remember the last time I saw them," you say.

"Then we have to stay," Eddie says smugly.

You all crowd the back of Steve's car, the heaters on but not doing a lot, the blanket stretched over Robin's shoulders. She tucks it behind your back, and you all look out to the night and scout for bugs.

"There," you whisper, pointing.

Green dots of light rise from the dry grass like tiny lanterns, a handful at a time.

"Jonathan's gonna be sad he missed this," Robin murmurs.

You try to count them all. Four voices whispering bets into the night air, though the real number isn't possible to calculate. "Winner gets a new paperback on Robin," Eddie jokes, swiftly quietened by a barrage of elbows to his side.

They let you win.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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