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cevansbrat0007 · 13 days

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There is a trend on some social media where the wife/Gf gives her man a full plate and only her self a little saying that is all that was left. How would Andy and Ari act in that situation?

What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Brief Mention of Calorie Counting, Bickering, Manhandling, Threats of Spanking/Punishment, Discussion of a Sex Tape, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Ari Levinson from my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this. If anybody asked, you would claim temporary insanity. But right now you were about to get up to some mischief.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” You mutter under your breath as you adjust the position of the camera you hid tucked away behind a plant. Pleased with the angle, you make a mental note to revisit the world of Harry Potter sooner rather than later.

It was officially time for a reread.

Tonight you were gonna play a little joke on your bounty hunter boyfriend. One that you’d come across the other day after accidentally straying from the wonderful world of BookTok. You just hoped he would find it as amusing as you did. In fact, you were certain that he would.

Eventually.

Hands on your hips, you do an about-face and traipse back into the kitchen to get started on dinner. On tonight’s menu was a Tuscan pork roast, complete with red wine mushrooms and Haricots Verts – also known as French Green Beans. And for dessert, you’d decided to whip up your man’s favorite: key lime pie

So, even if he got pissed at you later, you were confident you had something that would soothe his ruffled feathers.

Fingers crossed.

Later that Evening…

The heady thrum of excitement hits you the moment you hear the open and shut of your front door. Having anticipated his arrival, you’d even thrown on a new dress and cued up a little music. While it wasn’t your usual style, you knew without a doubt that Ari would appreciate your efforts.

“Bird?”

The sound of your nickname has a smile forming on your lips before you even realize it. Smoothing your hands over your skirt, you make your way towards your mudroom, eager to greet your handsome bounty hunter.

His eyes light up the moment he sees you. He stands there for a moment, drinking in the sight you clad in your new black dress and wedge heels.

“Well, get a look at you.” He breathes, allowing his bag to drop at his feet next to his forgotten boots.

“You like?” Biting your lip, you give into temptation and do a little spin.

Confidence blooms when you hear his appreciative whistle. But that’s nowhere near enough for your man. Because now that you’d gone and given him a show, he wanted more.

“Oh baby, I love.”

Pulling you into his arms, his mouth quickly descends upon your own. His tongue wastes no time finding yours, exploring every inch, every corner of your mouth. He lets you know without words that he’s so unbelievably happy to be home holding you like this.

You cling to him, your hands roving beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt to run along the sculpted plane of his back. When he finally lets you up for air it’s so he can nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, unique scent.

“You’re beautiful.” He rasps, pecking your lips once more, his large hands come up to frame your face. “So beautiful. Can’t wait to take this dress off you later, see what you might be hiding underneath.”

“All in good time, Beast.” Your lashes flutter closed as you lean into his touch. “All in good time.”

“What if I don’t wanna wait?” His husky growl rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest as he fiddles the material of your skirt.

“Well, you’re gonna.” Comes your cheeky response. “So go on and wash up for supper. We’re having something yummy.” You bat as his hands, intending to shoo him up the stairs.

The look that flashes across your man’s face makes it clear that he’d much rather have you for dinner instead. He boxes you in, slowly crowding you with his much larger frame as he backs you against a nearby wall.

However, you refuse to let yourself be swayed.

“I mean it, mister.” You repeat, poking him in the chest. “Now, be a good boy and go wash up.” Ari’s eyes darken at your words. His head dips without warning as he bites your finger, sucking the digit into his mouth, making you gasp.

“Alright, Duchess. Have it your way.” He growls once he finally deigns to release you. “You’d best be ready for me when I get back.” With that, he gives you his back as he strides off in the direction of the stairs.

“I ain’t scared of you.” You tell his retreating form, waiting until you hear his heavy footfalls sounding on the floor above you. Only then do you move, intending to finish setting up for dinner.

‘Alright, sugar.’ You think, taking a second to fluff your curls. ‘Time to earn yourself an Oscar.’

Fifteen Minutes Later…

You’ve just finished hiding away what’s left of your meal when you hear Ari make his way into your tiny dining room.

“Have a seat, Beast!” You call out, hoping that the act you were about to put on was at least mildly convincing. “I–I’ll be right in.”

Blowing out a breath you snag your bounty hunter’s plate, along with a glass of wine, and head into the next room. Although he admittedly wasn’t much of a wine drinker before he met you, he tended to enjoy whatever selection you paired with your meal.

Tonight you’d picked a lovely pinot noir.

This time when you see him, you’re treated to the sight of a freshly showered Ari lazily sprawled in one of your slightly too small chairs. His still damp hair is pushed back off his face as he waits for you, patiently biding his time while he plans his next move.

Or so you assumed, anyway.

“Here you are.” You sing as you approach. “Tonight I bring you an expertly roasted Tuscan pork loin, complete with a garlic and mushroom risotto and french-style green beans.”

“Smells good, baby.” He absentmindedly scratches at his jaw while he surveys the mountain of food on his plate.

“Hopefully it tastes good too.” You lean down to press a quick kiss against his temple. “I’ll, uh, be right back with mine.” The handsome brute smacks your ass when you turn to depart, making you yip.

“Hurry back.” He grunts, letting out a chuckle when he sees you trying to rub the sting out of your butt.

Seconds later you return with your food before quietly taking a seat at the table, all the while refusing to make eye contact. Picking up your napkin, you make a show of draping it across your knee, and then…

You wait.

It doesn’t take long for Ari to notice the differences between your respective plates, and it takes even less time for him to speak on it – much to your internal satisfaction.

“What the–?” Ari pushes his plate aside so that he can get a better look at your virtually empty one. “Where the hell’s the rest of your food, baby?” His deep voice comes out deceptively soft.

“Huh?” You cast him a sheepish glance, feigning embarrassment. “Oh this? It’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bird.” The quiet steel in his voice is impossible to miss.

“I know it wasn’t. But this was all that was left, so…” You trail off, averting your gaze in favor of using your fork to push food around your plate. “It’s fine.”

“There’s that damn word again.” You hear him grumble under his breath, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “I got news for you, Bird. It ain’t fine.” He grouses, reaching for you even as you shift away.

“But it is.” You sing, daintily fanning yourself with a napkin.

“No it isn’t.” He sings right back, clearly not understanding your game. Which was a good thing. It meant that you two could play a little longer.

“Look, if this is about you feeling like you need to start counting calories again…” Ari goes to rest his elbows on the table, his own meal all but forgotten. “Then please believe me when I tell you that you look phenomenal. And not just tonight, baby. I mean every night.”

You feel your cheeks heat as your body responds to his praise. That familiar warmth soon spreads, pooling in your belly while you mentally preen at his words.

“Thank you, Ari.”

“Oh don’t thank me, sweet girl.” His already husky voice dips another octave. “I just want you to eat.” You stifle a small shiver when the roughened pads of his fingertips lightly graze over your hand. “Now, do me a kindness and take your pretty little self back into that kitchen and fix yourself a proper plate.”

And there it was. He thought you were lying about there not being any leftovers. He was right, of course. Just not the way he thought he was.

“I would if I could, sugar.” You stretch out your legs beneath the table as you prepare to really sell the narrative. “Honest. But there really isn’t anything left. I…accidentally only bought one pork loin instead of two. And then I misjudged the recipe for the risotto, but that was most likely on account of the fact that I was in my feelings about the state of Herb & Twine’s green beans selection. It wasn’t very good.”

Ari doesn’t tell you this, but he’s actually impressed by your ability to speak that fast without so much as taking a breath. Instead all you receive is a gruff “uh huh” for your trouble.

“So,” You forge on, now fully committed to the bit. “I salvaged what I could out of the meal I planned and then gave most of it to you.”

“Why?”

Boy, he did not look happy. Which was great news for you

“Because…” You draw out the word, wincing when you belatedly notice the sudden tick in his jaw. “I just…felt like you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”

“Oh.” He hums, pursing his lips as he mulls over your story. “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to fix that.”

Unsure of what he means, you open your mouth to keep talking, only to let out a shriek when Ari suddenly reaches over to grip the back of your chair to drag you, and it, over closer to him.

“Christ, Beast!” Your hand flies to your still-heaving chest as you will your heartbeat to calm down.

But your man’s not done yet.

You scarcely have time to catch your breath before you’re hauled into his lap. Immediately your arms go to weave themselves around his neck to keep you from falling. Not that Ari would’ve ever allowed that to happen.

Seemingly unbothered by your rather dramatic response, Ari seeks to balance you on top of his muscled thighs as he leans over again to retrieve your plate. You watch in confusion as he unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his own dish before setting yours aside once more.

“Hate to break it to you, Duchess.” He seamlessly adjusts your positions so that he can grasp his knife and fork. “But I don’t need all this food. So it looks like we’ll just have to share.”

Momentarily stunned by this turn of events you can only nod as he feeds you a tender bite of pork. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, but when you finally do, it’s to utter two simple words.

“Ari, wait.”

“‘Fraid I’m not really in the mood to wait.” Your impatient bounty hunter warns. But he does pause his efforts, his fork hovering mere centimeters from your mouth. “You’re nuts if you think I’m the kinda man who would even consider stuffing himself while his lady sits by and starves.”

“I know.” You assure him before rearranging your body so that you’re facing him, your thighs now straddling his hips. “And I think that’s awfully sweet.”

“Great. So how about you –”

“But since this is a prank…” The grin you’re sporting threatens to split your face in two. “It looks like you get to keep your food.”

Ari blinks back at you, his mouth briefly opening and closing in a way that very much reminds you of a fish. You feel positively giddy as you press your hands on either side of his bearded face so you can plant a kiss on his full lips while he tries, and fails, to make sense of what you just said.

“Run that by me one more time.” His quiet snarl is enough to have you soaking your panties.

“I saw this thing on TikTok, where these women all decided to prank their boyfriends by serving them this big ol’ plate of food, while pretending to give themselves only a little bit and claiming that was all that was leftover. They filmed their reactions and posted ‘em for everyone else to see.”

“What the hell is a fuckin’ TikTok?”

“It’s this app where you…” You pause as you try to find the right words. “Where people can, um–”

“Post dumb shit?” He quirks a tawny brow as he tries to remain serious, even though you’re also pretty sure that you just saw his lips twitch. “Come up with new and inventive ways to torture the men that love them?”

“I mean, that’s not all it is.” You take a moment to whisper kisses along his chiseled jaw. “But I guess that’s a pretty accurate description.”

“Hmph.” Your grumpy bounty hunter continues to glower at you, even as his large, warm hands move to settle on your hips. “And am I right to assume you’re recording this?”

“Maybe…” You giggle, not bothering to hide just how funny you found this all to be. “Oh – but I was never gonna post it. Promise.”

You hold up your pinky, trying your hardest to look solemn. But the look Ari gives you lets you know that he’s done falling for your act.

“I’m warning you, Duchess.” He grunts, lightly bouncing you on his lap. “I swear to God, if I catch myself on that fuckin’ tock clock…thing…you have my word that I’m gonna redden that ass.”

“I already told you I wasn’t gonna.” You reassure him once more, resting your forehead against his. “By the way, thanks for bein’ such a good sport about the whole thing.”

“No problem.” He flashes you a feral grin, revealing his pearly white teeth. It shoots straight to your core. “But the way I see it, you kinda owe me one. Don’t you?” He leans in close as his hands begin gently kneading your curves.

“Um…I don’t think–” You let out a soft whimper when he drags his nose along the delicate column of your throat.

“Oh, but I do.” He nips at your jaw.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“Trust me, it is.” His sensual growl has you practically shivering with need. “Which is why you’re gonna show me where you hid that camera.” His lust-filled gaze drops to your cleavage as he openly begins undressing you with his eyes.

“Now hold on a minute, Beast –” You stammer once realization dawns.

“Aw, don’t fret.” Ari’s rueful chuckle lets you know that you will never win this battle. “You’ll have your turn to direct our little movie.” Ari suddenly stands without warning so that he can gently deposit you back in your own chair. “Especially now that I know how much you love performing for the camera.

Oh, the man had you there. Sometimes your Beast was a bit too cunning for your liking.

“I don’t think–” You try again, now feeling shy. “What we do in the dark has no business being on film!”

“Hm, guess we’ll just have to keep the lights on. But for now, let’s get you fed.” He drops a kiss on your head before picking up your empty dish and sauntering off towards the kitchen. “We’ll talk lighting and camera angles once you’re finished.”

Good Lord on high. What had you just gotten yourself into?

“Here we are.” Ari continues upon his return a few minutes later. He sets your down in front of you before taking your napkin and redraping it across your lap. “But I’d eat fast if I were you.”

“Um…why?” You ask, eyeing him warily.

“Because.” He winks at you before taking a seat and enthusiastically spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Tonight’s dress rehearsal starts in thirty minutes.”

END

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eddiessluttywaist · 2 months

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the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: romantic night at the trailer, based off of this prompt!

pairing: bf!eddie x gf!reader

word count: 1, 944 words

content/warnings: MDNI, fluff, kissing, lots of touchy feels, a lil smutty?

a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage! also would like to credit @carolmunson for this prompt and @mrsjellymunson for tagging me! I haven’t written for eddie in so long, and this was a great way to get back into it <3 thank you! hope you enjoy my contribution <3

You basked in the scent of Eddie’s bedding, how he was ingrained into each and every fiber. Every motion, every shift of the sheets, you could smell him. He had foolishly left you to your own devices in his bedroom (which was surprising since the last time he did that, you almost dared touch his Sweetheart) so you indulged.

You curled up in the sprawling mess of blankets and sheets then grabbed the small throw pillow you had embroidered for him and buried your face in it. It was a delicate, pretty, little thing that stood out in his room even with its DnD theme, but he loved it. He loved that you made it, that you put so much effort into it just for him, so he slept with it every night. Unfamiliar with the concept of purely decorative pillows, he didn’t realize most people tucked such things off to the side before getting into bed each night. So, it smelled like cigarettes, convenience store aftershave, and his shampoo. The scent filled you with dizzying affection, only pulling it away from your face to then hug it to your chest as he walked back into his room.

“I ran out of, like, nice cups. This okay?” he asked as he blew into one of the mugs and then used the bottom of his shirt to wipe it down. He was planning on cleaning those cartoon-themed cups properly for some absurdly fancy hot chocolate you had brought back from your family vacation. He was even planning on making another case for not wasting it on him, but, of course, his attention strayed easily when you were in his bed.

When his gaze finally fell on you, a lazy smile quirked up one side of his mouth. The handles of the mugs hung off the curl of his fingers which rested against his hips now as he took in the sight of you. He tilted his head to put it at the same angle as yours, his favorite pillow in your arms. You were an unbelievably endearing sight. The love that filled him was fluttery and overwhelming.

“And who said you could hold my favorite pillow?” He teased, sauntering over to the bed.

“I made it,” you scoffed with a smile.

He hums lazily in response, that crooked grin still hanging around as he shoved at the clutter on his bedside table. He picked up a small notebook, brow furrowed as he observed it only to haphazardly toss it towards his dresser to make more room. It was that or your tub of Betty Crocker, and he knew better.

You stared at his forearms, drinking in the movement of the musculature underneath. The warmth of his bedside lamp made it even better to watch the lines and curves of his tattoos beneath its comforting, golden light. How could something so simple be so beautiful? Your focus then trailed to the perfect structure of his hands as the mugs slid down his fingers. The ceramic cups clinked against the surface of the old table.

“I think as the creator, I have some right to hold it too,” you continued to make your case while he crawled into bed with you, giving you that subtle mischievous look he always got when he was toying with you.

His strong arms wrapped around you to secure you closer to him.

“I worked very hard on it, y’know.”

Eddie let out an “Is that right?” kind of sound, the texture of his jeans scratching against the bedding. He pulled you into him with such a desperate need to squish you as close as possible as if he thought you might be leaving soon. Those brown curls tickled your jaw while he nuzzled the side of your neck, audibly breathing you in.

“And it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to embroider all that Dungeons and—”

He finally pulled back to cut you off, smushing his face against yours in a way that made you giggle. Eddie’s kisses were always lazy and sloppy this late at night, but you loved them that way. His lips were warm albeit a bit rough from all the anxious biting that he abused them with. A pleased hum left him and vibrated deep in his throat, his large hands encasing the sides of your face and his fingers tangling in your hair. His rings would probably tug a strand or two when he pulled them away, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

The way your body relaxed reassured him, and he slid his arms down to pull you in again so your stomach could be flat against his own. Then, he let out a small chuckle when he had to separate from you to pluck the throw pillow out from between you. Eddie placed it elsewhere with emphasized tenderness while you stared at those ruddy lips that you missed already.

“Pillow was in the way,” he murmured in a low tone, kissing you back as you pulled him in for a few more pecks.

“And here I was thinking you were starting to love it more than me.”

“Aw, now don’t be like that. You know that’s not true,” Eddie drawled, grinning over that unconvincing little pout you gave him.

He sat back on his legs to move the bedding out of his way, then pulled you forward by your thighs which he readily settled in between. There was nothing he wanted more than to be thoroughly pressed against you. It wasn’t even about sex, at least not always. He just loved the feeling of you being so close to him. The softness of your stomach against his taut abdomen. The plushness of your chest pressed against the flat planes of his own. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way your bodies fit together too, but he’d melt into you if he could.

Eddie was the type to lean into you while you were walking together, ending up so close that his wallet chain would keep bumping against you. He always sought out your hand to hold or your shoulders for him to drape his arm across (which of course always ended up with him folding you into him so your face would press against a Hellfire symbol or band name, and he could settle his chin on the top of your head).

“I don’t think I believe you.”

You crossed your arms, failing to keep up with your façade, especially with that smile and those dimples.

“Well then, my dramatic lil lady,” He spoke with that same theatrical cadence that he used during campaigns, his brow furrowed with determination. You groaned over the incoming mawkishness, rolling your gaze up to the ceiling and smiling to the point that the apples of your cheeks ached.

“I suppose I must convince you.”

His hand settled on the side of your neck, thumb brushing against the center of your throat as he dipped down for another kiss.

“You’re so corny,” you laughed against his lips.

“And you… taste like vanilla,” he sighed, laughing with you after.

“Mm, well, that is the work of Ms. Betty Crocker,” you smiled up at him, gently tapping his nose. “Speaking of…”

Eddie groaned, mentally cursing himself for even bringing it up as you squirmed out from underneath him to grab the container from behind the abandoned mugs. He watched you intently while you sucked a scoop of frosting off your finger. When you met his gaze, he gave you a cheeky grin that he failed to conceal by biting his lip and then wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re a child,” you snorted, reaching out to tap some frosting onto the tip of his nose.

“And you’re devastating,” he countered in a voice so sickeningly saccharine with love that you wiped the frosting right back off. He caught your hand and sucked the sugar from the pad of your thumb before you could fully pull back.

“Who knew the local bad boy could be such a softie,” you teased softly, scooping some more frosting to feed it to him. Eddie playfully bit down just enough to make you laugh.

“I believe you mean ‘the local freak.’”

“Mm, tomato, tomahto,” you shrugged, lapping up some more frosting off your finger. His rich umber eyes seemed to glitter in the dull lighting, his pupils dilating. You looked up at him through your lashes when you felt his stare.

“We’re gonna have a problem if you keep doing that,” Eddie’s voice was rough even as he smiled over you.

“What?” you laughed, full of faux innocence. He just smirked. “No, what?”

“You know what.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you shrug, going to scoop some more frosting out when he snags the tub from you.

“Wh— hey!”

You already missed his warmth when he sank back onto folded legs, dipping his forefinger into the tub.

“You’re gonna get your rings all sticky,”

You blushed when that made him cackle, but you at least got the comfort of his body again as he hunched over you. His smile was tangible against the side of your neck, his hair tickling you again.

“Not the only thing that—”

“Eddie, shu-u-ush,” you laughed, and he flattened himself on top of you again, leaving tacky, sugary kisses on your neck while you pried the vanilla frosting from his hand. He gave up on keeping it from you, happy to have a free hand again to seek out your waist with.

Holding the container with one hand, you arched your other arm over him to scoop just one more—you swore just one more! —fingertip of frosting, but he was pulling back before you could even dip into it.

“Gimme that—”

“So rude taking things from me today,” you tutted, watching with a pout as he fed himself some of your treat.

“Have to have you all to myself,” he mimicked some toxic-alpha-dude-type bravado, but he couldn’t even get through it without chuckling at the end.

Eddie prodded at the dwindling supply of Betty Crocker’s then tossed the container back onto his bedside table. But you reached out to catch his wrist and brought his index finger to your mouth before he could bring it to his own.

He groaned, leaning onto one elbow while he gawked at you. His full lips parted at the sight of you, his thumb brushing against your cheek as you sucked on his finger. Damn.

“You never play fair.”

“And you like that,” you stated proudly once he slid his finger back out of your mouth.

“Course I do,” he grunted, sliding the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. “May have taken a few attempts to graduate, but I’m not that dumb.”

Your following giggle was breathy and fleeting as you sunk into the tension filling the room. You took in the growing heat in his gaze that tracked his thumb while it hooked your bottom lip. He mimicked opening his own mouth as you did so without even being asked, making him smile and drag his tongue over his lip. He slid his pointer finger down your tongue again, letting it trail down until he was holding your chin between his curled finger and thumb. Keeping your chin down and lips parted, he leaned in. The kiss was firmer—more determined—and desperate. He was putting every ounce of his desire into you, and this time you were the one melting. You felt like you were sinking deeper into that old mattress, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him with you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #bf!eddie munson #the boy is mine eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 month

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One of your "It's a Match" chapters gave me an idea. LOVE that series btw!

What if Gaz is a virgin so Simon let's him lose his virginity with his gf? Simon is there to guide Gaz and make sure he does it right so you get as much pleasure out of it as needed. Then you give Gaz the ride of his life while Simon controls when and where he gets to cum. The poor man whimpering beneath you from the edging and denial until he finally gets permission to cum.

Sub!Gaz x Dom!Simon x Switch!Reader

(Feel free to ignore this as well.)

Took some creative liberties with the prompt and made Switch!Reader a mean/brat tamer domme even if Gaz isn’t necessarily a brat (just felt more practical for me to do it). Sue me.

Sharing is caring. || Gaz x F!Reader x Ghost

Rating: E Words: 4.7K (this one got away from me sorry) Pairing: virgin!Gaz x gf!Reader x bf!Simon CW: smut, voyeurism, hotwifing, domination/submission, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), unprotected piv, fairly rough/forceful sex (BUT CONSENSUAL), praise, slight verbal degradation?, body mods (piercings). other tags: pre-established couple, loss of virginity, pre-agreed upon conditions, consent checks, no beta we die like soap. a/n: no thoughts, just vibes. NOT PROOFREAD

Simon first brought it up one sleepy Sunday evening, when you two were lying side by side in bed, his arms snaked around you as you read an e-book, his eyes glued to the TV on an episode of some crime show.

“You know,” He had said, Roman nose rubbing the top of your head affectionately. “I’d like to run something by you.”

“Hm?” You cooed as you rolled your head back on his chest to look up at him.

“So Kyle has this problem,” Simon began to explain as he looked down at you, brown eyes peering through his blonde lashes.

That got your senses tingling and you immediately set aside the tablet to dedicate your attention to the topic at hand, turning your body to properly face him, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder.

“What kind of problem?” You questioned, an eyebrow raising in intrigue.

Simon’s eyebrows twitched lightly, a tell-tale sign he was about to bring up something ‘embarrassing’, some good gossip. “Go on!” You immediately insisted, catching the little microexpressions on his face.

“He’s a virgin.” Simon revealed, causing you to gasp, pulling your head back and shaking it in confusion.

“NO?!” You said in shock. “With that pretty face of his?” You blinked.

“I know.” Simon says and then cocks a brow upward. “So what do you say?”

You didn’t need clarification, you simply smirked and shot him a look.

That’s how you ended up here.

Simon made all the arrangements, established rules with Kyle, and finally brought him over the that following Friday.

“You sure about this, sir?” Kyle asks, ever respectfully, sat on your living room couch, with you by his side, Simon sitting across from you on the arm chair by the chandelier.

“As sure as anyt’in’.” Your boyfriend replies and casts a glance at you. “You sure, da’lin’?”

“100% sure.” You answer, before glancing at Kyle. “Are you sure about it?”

“I… I am. But… It’s… It’s your relationship, I don’t want to cause an issue.” Kyle tells you, looking at you sheepishly, dark lashes fluttering anxiously over those stunning brown eyes of his.

“It’s not our first time doing this, I’m sure Simon’s told you all about it.” You reply in a reassuring tone.

“I know but…” Kyle says as he looks at you, your hand on his knee, finger drawing light circles on the denim of his pants.

“We’ll start off slow, at your pace. If ever there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll stop.” You assure him. “Simon’s here for that, after all… Not just for my sake, but yours too.” You add.

Kyle nods and gulps down a deep breath, casting one last glance at the form of his lieutenant, sat imposingly on the arm chair, legs spread open, lounging without a car in the world. One of his legs is bent near the seat, the other stretched across, foot resting on the edge of the coffee table, and arms resting comfortably on the rests, one of his hands holding a tumbler of Bourbon. His head is cocked to the side with interest.

The young sergeant nods again and slowly leans toward you. One of his hand tentatively wraps around your hip, fingers grazing the expanse of your ass in the shorts you’re wearing, while the other grabs you around the back of the neck, his lips connecting to yours.

Your warm, wet tongue swirling with his, soft breaths and gasps coming from your mouth as you let him take the lead for a moment... it’s all making his confidence grow. Sure, he’ll need guidance eventually, but for now he’s got this.

His hand slides to cup your ass, grabbing it with a greedy grasp, squeezing his fingers into the thickness, the other sinking into your hair, fingers gently clutching your scalp as they tug into the hairs.

He’s kissed plenty of people before, this isn’t new for him, and yet, it still feels completely different, in the way you’re not ‘his’ to kiss. But, somehow, that makes it all the better.

Slowly, your lips separate and you glance up at him a single look to check on his state and he nods imperceptibly, which causes your hands to slide down his chest and begin feeling him up.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you atop of him, hands sliding under the fabric of your top to feel up your back as your own find the hem of his t-shirt and tug it up to expose his chest.

Your fingers trace his pecs, his abs, nails softly drawing down atop him, making him shiver. He’s younger than Simon, his skin infinitely smoother, his body fat percentage definitely lower, not a trace of hair on him. It’s so different from your boyfriend… And you welcome the change.

You help him take off his t-shirt, throwing it haphazardly to the side and then lower your mouth onto his jaw, neck, shoulders, collarbones… You’ve barely started and the poor kid looks like he’s already seeing the universe and all its stars, his cock having sprung to attention so quickly that the bulge in his pants keeps rubbing against your inner thigh.

Slowly, you slip down from atop of him, your hands sliding down his body as you kneel before him on the floor, hands tracing over his thighs in the jeans he’s wearing, fingers squeezing his strong muscles through the fabric.

“You’ve never gotten a bj before, have you?” You ask him, eyebrows cocked and eyes locked onto his face. He shakes his head immediately, muttering something about ‘getting a handy’ back in secondary but that was the extent of it.

“Poor thing.” You coo at him. “Never got to feel a pretty mouth wrapped around that cock, hm?” Yo teased him playfully, watching how his eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching pitifully, as you undid his belt and tugged down his jeans.

“You’re in good hands, Garrick. She’ll take good care of you. Has a very talented throat.” Simon pipes up behind you. You don’t even have to look behind you to spot the smirk on his lips, the way the dulcet of his voice comes just short of a boast and a brag of how lucky he himself is, and how lucky Kyle is that Simon was willing to share you.

You help Kyle out of his sneakers and jeans before beginnin to palm him through the black cotton of his boxer briefs, his cock already peeking up from behind the waistband, leaking precum in anticipation. “Someone’s eager, hm? Are you excited, Kyle?” You quip to him.

“Mhm. Very. Very!” Kyle nods, his eyes glued to every single movement of yours, from the way your hands palm at his bulge, to how your fingers caress his smooth skin, to how they hook onto the waistband and roll down his underwear, peeling it off his body.

He’s big, bigger than Simon, even, though not as thick… He’s circumcised and he’s perfectly shaven. You wonder if he did that for your sake, or his own preference. There’s a thick vein running down the underside of him, one you can’t wait to feel pulse against your tongue.

Taking his cock in your hand, you stroke it slowly before allowing your tongue to run atop of it, base to tip, your tongue gently grazing the leaky tip, spreading the precum over the head before slowly parting your lips and guiding him inside.

The moan that escapes the boy in front of you makes you smirk, he twitches below you, fingers clenching on either side of his thighs, as if resisting squeezing into tight fists as you slowly allow his cock to slide deeper into your mouth. Then, you start bobbing it, up and down, cheeks hollowed out and lips grazing the warm skin leaving a mess of saliva around him.

Kyle’s quick to react this time, his hand grabbing you by your hair, legs trembling on either side of you. Your eyes shoot up to find his, only to find that his head is falling back onto the back of the couch, eyes screwed closed, mouth hanging open like he’s experiencing an out of body experience.

“He’s certainly enjoying himself, isn’t he?” Simon remarks behind you, receiving a finger signal from you, a sign of agreement, a preestablished way of communicating, since your mouth was busy. “That feel good, Kyle?”

“Y-Yeah… Yeah… I-It… God…” Kyle groans in between swallowed breaths. Poor thing, you want to coo at him, already too lost in the pleasure to even speak… Oh, how beautiful he’ll look soon, fucked out under you, drunk on your pussy…

You don’t notice Simon coming up from behind you until you feel his hand grip your head, atop of Kyle’s, calloused fingers digging into your scalp. His other hand shoots out to grab Kyle’s head from the back, pulling it forward so he’s forced to stare at you.

Then, your head is shoved forward, Kyle’s cock sliding down your throat with no warning Simon’s hand holding you in place, while Kyle’s eyes widen and an obscene moan escapes his mouth. Simon controls your head, pulling and pushing you onto Kyle’s hip.

It’s no wonder that Kyle’s whole body starts to tremble, eyes widened and having trouble staying focused, or open, mouth left wide open as Simon makes him fuck the back of your throat, experienced eyes keeping watch of your reactions and signals and of Kyle’s…

He’s controlling the speed at which you go, how deep you take his cock down his throat, how much of a mess you make with your spit, and how long you get to breathe whenever he pulls you off before pushing you back on. A reminder. He’s always in control.

“Come down her pretty throat, go on, Garrick.” Simon demands. Kyle, poor thing, has already been holding on with teeth and nails to keep himself from climaxing too soon, wanting to prove himself as more than just inexperienced… But Simon’s order is so severe, he can’t keep it up… And he lets go, twitching in your mouth and shooting his come down your throat.

Simon lets go of you both, giving you a moment to catch your breaths, brown eyes staring at the result of what you just did, you, out of breath, a mess of drool down your chin, and eyes welled up with tears, and Kyle, out of breath, a mess of drool around the base of his cock, and eyes glazed over.

“Good job, da’lin’...” Simon tells you, pulling you up ever so slightly, kissing you sweetly, his tongue piercing flicking across your tongue, as if he’s looking for a taste of Kyle in your throat.

After a moment, he pulls back and looks at Kyle. “Now, you’re gonna thank her for the favour she made ya, hm?” He warns. “Let’s take this to the bed. C’mon.” He demands, taking you by the hand and leading you to the bedroom, leaving Kyle to have to keep up.

Simon, unlike you, is a practical man. He doesn’t waste time. By the time Kyle has made it to the bedroom after barely 20 seconds, he’s already got you naked and splayed atop the mattress, a pillow placed under your hips.

He’s on his knees in front of you and beckons Kyle closer with two fingers, before he uses those same two fingers to rub over your folds and spread them open, revealing just how wet you’ve gotten from merely giving Kyle head. “You see that?” Simon coos at him while you stare at them both, holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Y-Yes, sir.” Kyle replies with a nod, his own hand reaching to touch you, carefully sliding between your puffy lips, gliding across easily through the slick.

Simon grabs Kyle’s wrist and carefully guides it across to your clit, finding it with the speed of a man that’s been fucking you often since you two started dating. He knows your body, knows you better than anyone, and he’s about to show Kyle exactly how to touch you to get you to fall apart like he does…

You immediately stiffen up when you feel the pads of Kyle’s fingers against your clit, the pressure behind them coming from Simon’s hand as he rolls his fingers in light circles. It’s familiar and it immediately causes you to hum in pleasure and hiss, lying yourself back on the mattress.

“Ideally, you always keep something touch that needy little clit there.” Simon explains, more like he’s giving an anatomy lesson than having a threesome. “Be it a tongue, a finger, what have you.”

Simon’s hand then slides Kyle’s fingers away, making you whimper from the loss of contact. “Be patient, da’lin’, you’ll get more soon.” He quips. “Needy girl… Thought you were going to be all bossy with Kyle, now look at you…” He coos.

Simon turns Kyle’s hand over and, using his own hand, parts your puffy cunny before helping Kyle push two digits into your slick warmth. Kyle’s fingers are no biggy, not thick and calloused like Simon’s, and they’re surprisingly easy to take on. You moan softly at them, before becoming just a bit more vocal when Kyle’s fingers pad over your G-spot when Simon curls them just so.

“Right there, you see that?” Simon beckons, Kyle responding with mild agreement that you don’t even register because, soon, his fingers start moving, fucking in and out you per Simon’s instruction, while your boyfriend’s tongue quickly finds your clit, the cold piercing rubbing and flicking at your most sensitive spot, causing your back to arch on the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Simon…” You whine, legs already shaking, more so per the stimulation, which causes your boyfriend to use both of his free hands to keep your knees spread open as far as he could comfortably get them, tongue still lapping up at you with purposeful strokes.

The shaggy blond hair of your boyfriend vanishes for a moment, as does the experienced tongue touching you, before it gets replaced with Kyle’s slightly messier and uncoordinated attempts, Simon observing Kyle and noting your reactions and how much weaker they are, upset at the lack of proper stimulation.

“C’mon, Garrick…” Simon croons. “Your tongue’s sharp enough to roast Johnny, but you get here and it gets shy?” He taunts, before using his hand on the back of the sergeant’s neck to guide him a bit.

“I’m trying…” Kyle remarks, his face feeling warm against your skin, showing he’s likely blushing despite his darker complexion hiding it, his fingers still moving in the way Simon taught him, his only saving grace.

“Scoot.” Simon remarks and pushes his head aside, ever so slightly, causing him to rest against your thigh. Simon’s head pushes in near Kyle’s, resting against your other thigh, and his tongue catches your clit again, though the angle at he’s at now, slightly at an angle, allows Kyle to spot the way Simon moves his tongue: soft circles, zigzagging side to side, lips also rubbing against you.

Kyle watches closely, eyes widened, pupils blown with lust at the sight of Simon’s face so close and going down on you so eagerly, his eyes glued to your face up top, as if checking every single reaction you have to your boyfriend’s mouth. And react you do. Your moans are louder, jumpy, desperate, your hands grabbing the bed covers and squeezing tight, your cunt seeking Simon’s mouth as you fuck yourself onto it.

Kyle wasn’t the type to watch porn often, having little time and little interest in it, more so because he knew it wasn’t a good habit or realistic to expect it to be realistic… But the sight of Simon’s lips sucking and rubbing into your slick like it was the most delicious meal he’s ever gotten to eat was better than any of the porn he’s actually seen.

Simon’s able to make you come undone in a matter of minutes, the whimpers and needy moans, the shallow breaths, the way your head was left spinning, lolling to the side as Simon eased you down from your peak and then dropped a chaste kiss to your thigh before standing up again.

“You saw that?” He teases Kyle, who nods eagerly, no words coming to his lips after the display he just got. “You’ll get there eventually. With practise.” He assures him before patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Up you go.”

“How are you doing, da’lin’?” Simon asks, checking on you as you nod and show him a thumbs up, causing a chuckle to come from his chest before he takes a seat in another armchair in the corner, a spot he usually uses when having insomnia, right by the windows, to work on his laptop while you sleep near him… Except this time being used for something else.

“Go on, then, continue.” He demands as he sprawls out on the armchair, legs spread and already undoing his belt and fly, seeking relief from the tight feeling in his own jeans.

You nod eagerly and quickly shift to be sat on the bed, pulling Kyle toward you. “You still want this?” You ask him as you look him in the eyes… As if Kyle, needy the way he is now, after the sight of you coming undone on Simon’s tongue, would ever be able to answer anything other than a resounding ‘YES!’.

“Mhm… I do.” Kyle assures you with another nod… So, you kiss again, hands sliding over each other’s bodies just like they had on the couch before, exploring the free skin, allowing Kyle to grope you more easily. He seems fixated on your ass and thighs, fingers kneading the extra meat in them and holding you close.

His cock has long recovered from his first orgasm, now rubbing against your tummy as he kneels in front of you on the mattress. But not for long. Soon, you’ve laid Kyle on his back, and you’re straddling him, one leg on either side, slowly rubbing your folds over the length of his veiny cock.

“You’re gonna take ‘im for a right, da’lin’?” Simon asks, your eyes seeking him out in his armchair. The way you’re positioned, he can see all of you. Your pretty tits, the way your lips spread to rub against Kyle’s shaft, your legs parted open and knees digging into the mattress.

“Mhm…” You reply, your expression having shifted once again from the needy, submissive mess he had made of you, to a more dominant, playful one as you look down at the sergeant below you, looking up at you like he knows he’s in for a wild one.

“Go on then… But try not to break him, yeah?” Simon teases and winks at you, his hand already palming his cock through his own black boxer briefs.

“No promises…” You quip in return and wink back, before, carefully reaching a hand forward to lift Kyle’s cock from its resting spot against his hip.

Slowly, you sink yourself into it, his narrower build a lot easier to accommodate than Simon’s girth… But you soon regret how eagerly you did it, when you feel Kyle’s sheer size slip inside easily, his tip striking your cervix forcefully with that one swft motion.

“Bloody hell…” You grunt and bounce back a bit to relieve the pressure. “You’re big, aren’t you?” You tease Kyle who’s already unresponsive, poor little thing, eyes twice as wide as they had been when you gave him head, barely nodding in response.

Shifting your weight around, you plant your feet on either side of Kyle’s hip. “I’m gonna move, okay?” You warn him, setting your open palms on his thighs, behind your back, earning another nod from Kyle.

Slowly, you start to ride him, each bounce of your hips drawing the most delicious moans out of Kyle, his head lolling back over the foot of the bed, eyelids fluttering and his back arching.

“Gah- Fuck-” Kyle grunts, his breath already ragged before you’ve had time to do anything, just slowly moving, feeling his lengthy size rub against your walls as you force him to bottom out every time.

Kyle’s voice gets higher, whinier, his forehead dribbling with sweat with each thrust you force his cock to deliver into your slick cunny. “Feels… so… sososo so good…” He whimpers, his tone almost pathetic.

“Yeah… does it feel good?” You croon at him, a mischievous smirk on your lips, his cock drawing soft moans off your mouth as well.

“Yeah… yeah… yeah…” Kyle nods needily, his breath staggered and swallowing excess saliva.

“Yeah? Was it all you were expecting, pretty boy?” You tease him some more, earning another handful of needy ‘Yeah’s, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to consider saying anything else. “You don’t want me to go faster then, do you?”

“No… no… faster…” He replies, his head shooting forward, clearly eager to experience what ‘faster’ would feel like.

“Oh? Then you were lying? It doesn’t feel good, you need it faster?” You croon at him as if he was behaving like a brat and not like the good boy he really was.

“No… nO… it’s- it’s-!” Kyle tries to reply, desperate to clear the misunderstanding. Not that you give him time for it, as you speed up the speed of your bouncing, taking him in harder with each strike of your hips coming down onto his.

“GOD- YES!” Kyle shouts, eyes shot open and back curling upward, his head snapping forward to look at you and watch the way your pussy swallows every inch of his veiny cock, before letting out a huff and falling back on the bed again, desperate for more.

His hands grab onto your thighs and hips, fingers digging in hard, as you ride him, sweat beginning to slide down your forehead, down your cheeks and neck. Your eyes flitter over to Simon in the corner.

The smug fucker is watching everything with a nasty little half-grin on his lips, brown eyes darkened with lust as he watches you play with Kyle, making him squirm and whimper below you.

“Play with your clit for me, da’lin’.” His voice rings out amidst the frequent and whiney moans coming from Kyle. One of your hands slips away from Kyle’s thigh behind you, finding your clit and rubbing it slowly as you keep bouncing atop of Kyle, hips stuttering lightly as the pleasure becomes more intense.

“That’s it…” Simon says with a chuckle from his armchair, fisting his cock leisurely, as if the sight in front of him wasn’t worth any more from him. “How’s his cock feel, da’lin’?” Your boyfriend asks you.

He’s playing with your head, much like you’re playing with Kyle’s… making you go back and forth between a submissive and dominant mind frame, deriving pleasure from the mind games he’s forcing you to take on.

“It’s big…” You whimper in reply. “So big…” You murmur, your eyes soft and needy as you look at your boyfriend, watching the wicked look in his face..

“Don’t look at me, look at him…” Simon tells you. “Fuck ‘im right, he deserves it.” Simon adds. “Poor lad, been so long without experiencing a pussy…” He teases. “ow’s it feel, Garrick?” He turns his attention, and yours, to the sergeant below you.

Kyle nods pathetically. “Y-Yeah… It’s- Ah-” He whimpers, eyes glazed over with pleasure, too far gone in it, too overwhelmed with the feeling of a warm, wet pussy sheathing his virgin cock.

He’s too fucked out to think… And you’re bound to join him soon enough, with the way he looks below you, your fingers playing with your clit, and his cock swiftly hitting a spot inside you that no man’s ever reached before…

Your hips stutter atop of Kyle’s, your legs straining and tired, sore from the rhythm and position. You shift positions, leaning forward, hands coming to rest on his hard pecs, your head hanging atop of Kyle’s, facing him better.

You grind back and forth, trying to regain strength to continue, feeling Kyle’s tip rubbing deep inside of you, so deep and hard… You can’t help but whine.

“She’s getting tired, Kyle. Go on, it’s your turn.” Your boyfriend quips, his voice dripping with power and command over the two of you.

Kyle didn’t need to be told twice, his arms wrapped around your lower back and he bucked up like a bull, tossing you both aside, the bed creaking with the movement. Whatever insecurity he had is gone.

He pushes your thighs apart with his hip and starts pistoning into you with barely any regard for rhythm or how deep he’s going, his face buried into your neck as he plows into you, grunting and whining like an animal in rut. Not that you mind.

You’re used to Simon (and sometimes a few other mutual ‘friends’ of yours), men who are experienced, who know what to do, how to do it, who aren’t sloppy or erratic, who’s hips don’t jerk with each plunge into your warm cunny… It’s completely different with a bloke like Kyle. Inexperienced, green, but eager and desperate and…

You’re moaning loud and often, nails clawing at his smooth scarless back, eyes rolling as each snap of his hips claps against you like a whip, his cock burying into you to the hilt and back out before plunging back in.

Once more, Simon’s quick to come to your side, quick to crouch by the side of the bed, eyes admiring the way you both act and move, to keep a keen eye on your reactions and his, ready to pull him off you like a mutt that’ll hurt his mate if the owner doesn’t make him dismount…

But he doesn’t intervene. Not when you’re moaning like a whore, with Kyle sweating and grunting atop you, his eyes screwed shut and looking like he’ll lose every and any ounce of restraint he has in the next 3 seconds, somehow pulling the will to go on from sheer fucking air.

“You gonna flood ‘er little cunt with your come, aren’t you, Kyle?” Simon coos as he rests his forearms on the mattress, a perch to watch better.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah!” Kyle replies with an eager nod, eyes opening for a moment to look at Simon who’s so close to him.

“Yeah? Are you?” Simon continues egging him on. “You gonna fill my girl with your load?” He adds, his voice dropping to a more authoritative tone.

“Y-YEAH!” Kyle raises his voice, a bit more determined, but still deep in his natural state… obedient, ready to die for his superior, for his lieutenant.

“Go on, then,” Simon demands. “I wanna see. I wanna see you fill ‘er up.” He adds. “Tell ‘er you’re gonna do it.”

Kyle’s head turns a bit to look at you, his warm brown eyes blown wide with lust and desperation, his skin slick with sweat, his plump lips parted to let in desperate gulps of air.

“‘m gonna…” Kyle grunts as he shifts his weight lightly, his nose leaning against yours. “Gonna put my come so… deep inside you…” He warns you.

The look in his eyes, the desperation in his tone, the warning tone of his that does not at all fit his personality… Somehow it all comes together to rip the filthiest orgasm out of you, your head rolling back, eyes squeezing shut and a loud whine slipping from your parted lips as you squeeze and contract around Kyle’s cock.

Kyle can’t last not even a second longer the moment you start to come around him. His eyes fall shut, his back arches and he digs his fingers into the bed, toes curling and legs shaking as he fucks his come inside of you, drool slipping down his parted mouth.

“Good job.” Simon’s voice remarks next to you, satisfied and almost… proud, while you’re both too lost in the high of pleasure to even recognize his existence in the room or that you’re… alive, really.

#ikea writes 💚#asks #cod smut #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley has piercings change my mind #reqs #gazghost #ghostgaz #ghaz #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley smut #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz smut #ghost smut

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pheadrus · 2 years

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god I’ve been getting closer to my friend recently and she recommended this album that is so so emotional for her and I have no idea how to talk to her about it? she obviously relates it a lot to a bad experience in her life but I have found out since that she thinks people treat it as misery porn when talking to her about it (and I cried all through that conversation:)))) so I’ve done a great job showing her I’m not treating it that way :))) I fucking hate that I just cry at everything it honestly is at the point that it makes me a bad friend in moments like that) but bc of that I’m wanting to go into it not focussing too much on that and like using the album to spectate her sadness but it’s like ultimately that is what the album means to Her AND i haven’t gone through a similar experience when the album is actually quite specifically about that kind of experience BUT it does move me a lot but it’s like if I talk about that am I diminishing from the much deeper shit she must get from it? but then is that making her sadness misery porn again by being so reverent of it and wary but without it I’m just making the album about my interpretation which she might think is just a really shallow understanding and. UGH. but I really would love to talk to her about it bc it’s GOOD and also I love talking to her

#i talked to her about it once very drunk and I think I did that too much #like obviously I can never know it like you do etc #and idk I think it might have made her uncomfortable #she hasn’t brought it up since although maybe briefly to say to someone else that I listened and liked it?#I’m just being paranoid about that probably I don’t think I offended her so much bc she was chill with me that night #I’m fact it was that night a Lot of drama happened with her gf and #i ended up like huddled up to her with my head on her shoulder and icr how i ended up like that #but I remember being very firm with myself that I wouldn’t do anything of my own prompting I’d only do what she suggested #and seconds later I’ve got my head on her shoulder #so I think she was chill with me that night #god I need to stop worrying so much

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psychedelic-ink · 8 months

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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.

DAY ONE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

pairing: stepbrother!frankie x santi's gf!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni

summary: you were seventeen when Frankie became your stepbrother, but no matter the title, he never felt like a brother to you, going off to college right after your father remarried. But no matter the circumstances, he was still off limits. Years pass and when he returns from the army your relationship with him is even more strained. You end up settling for the second best thing instead, his best friend. Everything seems to be going fine until Frankie stays over and Santi needs to leave for work.

word count: 5k

warnings: infidelity (reader cheats on santi), stepcest, possesive!frankie, y'all this fic isn't morally okay at all but it's not exactly "dark" it's just really messed up so read with caution, breeding kink, dirty talking, fingering, mild degradation kink, male masturbation, piv, oral sex, spitting, pillow humping, size kink, poor santi didn't deserve this, size kink, cuckolding kink???? (santi isn't there but frankie gets really turned on talking about it)

a/n: i don't know who's or what's gonna do it but I need someone to forgive me for this. also hopefully this turned out okay, it's very loosely edited and feel a bit all over the place but hopefully I'm just overthinking it. enjoy babes

Your father remarried when you were seventeen.

You felt cheated at the time. And not because your father had found love again—no, that made you quite happy actually. You just wished he’d done it sooner, you could’ve benefited from having a big brother early on. Your relationship with your birth mother wasn’t easy, especially when you were young, and having someone there to vent to would’ve been like a dream. Your dad listened, but you know he felt someone guilty for it even though it wasn’t his fault.

Frankie was only three years older than you. Sadly, he didn’t stick around for long, going off to college a year later. But his visits were frequent enough that you two developed a somewhat friendly relationship.

Emphasis on the somewhat.

Being young and dumb, you developed a crush on him instead. It was an innocent thing. Just some hearts around his name and following him around like a duckling whenever he was around. Your dad and stepmom found it cute, endearing. Frankie seemed indifferent most of the time. He listened when you needed to vent, brought you soup when you were sick and your parents were working—and that was pretty much it.

Then he went and joined the army.

You remember the chaos that decision brought over the household. You were applying for colleges all on your own, your dad busy trying to console your stepmom, the latter being distraught over the potential of losing her son. You were just. . . sorta around, floating and looking over them, listening without really being there, just. . . there.

A month later you were surprised to find a letter addressed to you. There was one for his mom and one for you, you just stared at it, confused when your dad handed it to you.

You opened it in your room. You swore the damn paper smelled like him, the beat of your heart too loud to your own ears.

You read it. There was only one sentence scribbled down, his handwriting even more crooked than usual.

I’m sorry.

You didn’t write back to him. You had no idea why he was apologizing and you were too afraid to ask at the time. During your first day of college you just assumed it was because he left you to deal with the mess his absence caused.

Then he returned.

The house was bustling when you came for your weekend visit. Your stepmom grinning from ear to ear when you arrived, hugging you tight with tears shining in her eyes. Frankie had brought a friend with him, a friend almost as handsome as him.

Said friend had smiled at you, squeezing your hand tight, “Santiago,” he introduced himself. He stayed over for about a week and so did you, charmed by this sudden stranger that was your brother’s best friend.

Frankie didn’t address the letter. Or what he’s written inside of it. He was the same as he’d ever been and for a second you doubted if you ever did receive a letter. But you knew you did. You still had it.

At the end of the week, Santi officially asked you out, telling you that he’d already spoken to Frankie about it. You almost laughed at the absurdity of the whole ordeal. It wasn’t like Frankie ever was protective towards you, you were pretty sure Frankie couldn’t care less about who you dated. But nonetheless, you said yes, hoping that Santi would bring you the normalcy you so desperately craved.

And he did. You were happy, enjoying every moment you spent with him. Santi didn’t push you aside, he didn’t make you feel like you had to fight for his attention. You didn’t have to play tricks or games, you weren’t second place to no one. Finally, you felt like the lead in your own goddamn life and you would always feel grateful to him for that.

You couldn’t say the same thing with your relationship with Frankie thought. He completely iced you out, only talking to you normally when people were around, especially Santi. No one seemed to notice. You wanted to ask him about it but too much of a coward to do so. And honestly, you didn’t have it in you to care anymore. Neither you nor Frankie were young anymore; if he had a problem, he could just ask.

Three months into your relationship, you moved in with Santi.

The setting sun's warm, orange glow pours through the open windows. A gentle breeze brushes against your skin, as you place a cup of hot black coffee on the table in front of him.

Santi sits on the couch, absorbed in the files from work. His fingers flip through the pages as he studies them intently. The soft rustling of paper mingles with the soft summer air.

You sit next to him, your legs brushing together. Unlike him, you didn’t hate yourself so you were cooling your insides down with an iced coffee. You take a sip, your eyes eating at the way the sun kisses his skin, sharpening his jawline further.

��Thanks,” he mutters, lifting his mug to your lips. His eyes find yours midst of drinking. “What are you looking at, querida?” he asks, lips twitching into a smile.

“Oh nothing,” you hum. “Just looking at my very hot boyfriend.”

“Very hot hmm,” Santi places the mug on the coffee table and gives you all his attention. “Seems like someone’s gonna miss me when I’m away.”

Before you can quip back, he pulls you to his lap, your thighs framing his hips. You instinctively grind down and let out a shuddering breath, Santi drops his head back against the couch. “Fuck, you really are going to miss me, aren’t you? Sweet thing.”

You cradle his jaw with both hands, leaning in, you press your lips together. Santi eagerly licks the seam of your lips, a silent order for you to let him in, you do, moaning at the feel of his tongue dancing alongside yours. He sucks the air from your lungs, tracing every inch of you with his tongue, a shiver runs up your spine, your body rubbing against his despite yourself.

When he parts away you take in the sight of his swollen lips, his lustful gaze. Your heart skips a beat and your insides flush.

“Oh, by the way, Frankie called,” he says out of the blue and out of breath.

Well, that certainly kills the mood.

“He needs a place to crash a couple of days, is that alright?” his eyebrows raise. “I’m actually surprised you don’t know. What kind of sibling relationship do you two have?”

“You know we never actually lived together right?” you shrug. “But of course, he’s my brother and I love him. He can stay as long as he wants to.”

He nods. “Good,” then nods again before giving you a quick peck on the lips. “It’s a bummer I won’t be here when he arrives.”

“You could’ve rescheduled.”

“This isn’t that kind of job sweetheart, you know it.” he nuzzles your cheek, feeling your discomfort. “But anyway, I’ll see him plenty when I get back.”

You draw him into another kiss, and you take your time with it, feeling the fat strokes of his tongue delving into your mouth as you part your lips further. You wish he’d be here when Frankie comes. He still doesn’t talk much unless there are others around and after all these years you don’t know what you did to anger him enough so that he’d hold a grudge.

Santi moans into your mouth and cups your breasts, toying with your hardened nipples with his thumbs. You wonder how okay he’d be with it if he knew about your past crush on Frankie. He’d probably laugh it off, it was a long time ago anyway.

Your mind drifts to Frankie. To his messy curls the ballcap he refused to take off. Deep down you wonder what his reaction would be in learning about your past crush. A gush of heat rolls down your spine, slick gathering at the seams of your underwear. Santi's fingers glide downward, tracing the path between your legs. You shudder, a moan breaking through your lips.

You’re not sure who you’re thinking about right now, two faces merging as one.

You’re sitting on the couch, rigid, when you hear the knock that you hoped never came.

All day you’ve been pacing around thinking about it, thinking about Frankie. He hadn’t called you not even once. All of his travel info was forwarded to you by Santi. It hurt to a degree. Him ignoring your presence so forcefully. You haven’t visited home in ages just because you knew he was staying there, helping your dad with the business. Sometimes you teased your father that Frankie was the son he’d always wanted, and despite your awkward laughter, you knew there was some truth to that statement.

Another forceful knock.

You finally push yourself off the couch and head to the door. Blood pumps vigorously through your veins, your heart beating too fast—too loud. You don’t have time to calm yourself as you yank the door open.

His eyes immediately meet your own. Dark like chocolate chips but bitter like coffee. Sweat clings to his skin, hair curling at the ends, his shirt darkened in color sticking to his sternum, highlighting the contours of his chest and the swell of his stomach. You swallow.

“Hey, Frankie,” you make a move to help with his luggage but he pulls it away before you can touch the handle. Filled with unease, you take a step back and leave enough room for him and his luggage to pass through. “How was the flight?”

“Good.”

Jesus, why does he always make everything so difficult?

You close the door when he fully steps in, he does a brief once-over across the living room. His eyes linger on the picture of you and Santi on the coffee table, then quickly turn back to you, ignoring his own picture entirely. “Which room am I in, hermanita?”

Your eyes widen at the endearment, your pulse picking up again. It had been years since he last called you that. “Uh. . . last room down the hall,” you murmur, mind absent. When he’s about to leave, you grip his arm, stopping him. His muscles tense underneath your touch, his eyes burning holes into the hand that’s holding him. “I cooked,” you say, choked. “You must be hungry, let’s eat first then I’ll show you around.”

Frankie rolls his shoulders and moves his jaw from side to side. You’re about to take back your offer when he sighs, his shoulders dropping. “Fine. Okay.”

You’re heating up the food when Frankie walks through the kitchen door. He’s wearing a clean shirt, cheeks damp from where he splashed water over himself.

“Smells nice,” he mutters, standing next to you and peering from above your shoulder. “Is that mom’s recipe?”

“It is,” a soft smile touches your lips. His eyes follow the curve of it, a slight surprise etching between his brows. “But I don’t make any promises about the taste. It’s my first time making it.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

There’s something in his tone that prompts you to stop your stirring and look at him. You’re surprised to find him already staring. His eyes clouded, lips tight as his gaze searching yours. “I shouldn’t have. . . what?” you ask very slowly, every word chosen very carefully.

“Cooked,” he’s so unbelievably close. So close that you can hear the rasps in his voice, feel the heat of his breath across your cheeks. Your breath catches in your throat, heat pooling in your stomach.

“O–Oh, well it’s nothing,” you force a chuckle. “Didn’t want to feed you something you didn’t like when you’re already probably uncomfortable.”

He laughs, a sound you hadn’t heard in such a long time. Your body vibrates with the sound. “What am I? A dog?” However, the moment is fleeting like the sand dancing under the wind. His brows furrow. “What do you mean uncomfortable?”

Ah, so much for picking your words carefully.

You shrug and turn off the stove. Your eyes move up to the cupboard, you so desperately want to break away from the hold the close proximity has on you but it just feels good to be physically close to him again. He’s taller than Santi, that combined with broad shoulders and chest, Frankie’s presence can be quite demanding when he wants it to be. You guess that right now is one of those moments. He cups your chin, his fingers brushing against your neck. Your throat bobs heavily under his palm, sweat gathering at the small of your back.

“Don’t play dumb,” you answer him sharply. “You barely talk to me when we’re alone. You didn’t even tell me you were staying over or your itinerary, I had to learn it all from Santi,” you break away from his grip, your anger starting to boil over. Frankie’s unphased by your sudden movement. “So what? All of that changes just because I cooked for you? Just because you only now noticed that I actually care about you? Do you have any idea how—”

You clamp your lips shut. It was too much— too much threatening to bubble out. The inside of your mouth feels like sandpaper, your throat convulsing painfully as regret coats your tongue. You dare a glance at Frankie. He doesn’t seem taken aback by your outburst. In fact, he’s giving you a look as if he’s been waiting for this.

“I know that you care,” he murmurs and you look away, the softness in your tone more than enough to convince you that he knows. And he had known, all this time. “I had to ice you out. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

You need to hear him say it. You need him to tell you that he knows—you need him to blatantly tell you that every time you averted your gaze at the last second years before. . . he noticed.

“Choice in what? Just tell me,” you wrap your arms around yourself, feeling like your entire body might shatter into a billion pieces at any second.

He gives you a knowing look, eyes moving up and down your figure. “You know why.”

“So as always it’s my fault.”

“What?” he blinks rapidly and comes closer, hands finding your waist in an odd sense of familiarity. “No no, it’s not your fault. I. . . I was protecting you,” he licks his lips, eyes dropping to your mouth. “I was. . . protecting you from myself.”

You shake your head, fighting every urge to nuzzle his neck like a wounded animal. To smell his scent to soothe you. God, you’re unbelievable. And here you thought all your feelings had disappeared, apparently, they were just laying dormant under the flesh and bone.

His nails bite into your skin despite your clothes.

“Do you know how hard it was seeing you with him?” he spat the last word as if it was poison. A shiver crawls up your spine, needles digging into your skin. “You started to look at him the same way you used to look at me. I had to pull away.”

“You were jealous?” you ask, confusion crossing your face. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because it’s wrong, hermanita.”

The Spanish hit his tongue more violently this time. A reminder of what this relationship was supposed to be. However, the word doesn’t stop him from coming closer and closer, until his lips are only a breath away.

“We’ve never been brother and sister, Frankie,” you say voice surprisingly hoarse. “Everyone knows that.”

He scoffs, “You’re dating my best friend.”

For that, you don’t have an excuse. All you can do is swallow and nod, his chest now flush against his, the only thing separating you to is your own arms that were still squeezing you tight.

Frankie observes you a second longer, eyes flitting across your face; taking in the sight of your parted lips and dilated pupils. “But,” he continues, voice dangerously low. "I'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

You enter the bedroom and as soon as you do guilt rapidly builds in your chest, Frankie is right behind you, closing the door while your gaze remains glued to the picture that’s on your nightstand. A picture of you and Santi; there’s frosting on his nose from your birthday cake, your face split in a huge smile. You also remember being mildly bummed that Frankie hadn’t called.

He follows your gaze, frowning when he notices what it was that you were staring at. With large steps, he walks over to the frame and slams it down.

“Do you want this?” he breathes out, voice nothing but gravel. He doesn’t turn to look at you, his face lowered to the nightstand. “Because if you don’t, you have to tell me.”

He’s asking the wrong question.

You walk up to him, sliding your arms to his front as you press your forehead between his shoulder blades.

Of course, you want this.

The question he should be asking is if it’s worth throwing everything away just for one night. Because this is what that was. You don’t think you can hide it, and you’re not even sure if you want to hide it.

Being with Frankie tonight means that you’re saying goodbye to Santiago, whether you tell him or he figures it out.

You clutch the front of his shirt. It’s damp with sweat. You press a kiss, enjoying the moisture gathering at your lips. “Do you?”

He turns around and grabs your face, pulling you to him immediately. Your mouths crash together, tongue and teeth eager to explore more of the other. He’s already pulling you away before your brain can’t even comprehend the taste of him, “More than anything,” he growls, hands still cradling your face. “Get on your knees.”

Your drop instantly, not even bothering to take off your shirt. Warmth blossoms all over your skin as he drops his pants along with his boxers, cock already hard and ready. He starts stroking himself and tilts your head back. “Open your mouth,” he orders.

Slotting the head of his cock between your lips, fist moving up and down his length. You close your lips around him, dipping your tongue into the slit. He groans with a rock of his hips, the first drops of precome stain your tongue, a loud moan ripping from your throat. You desperately want to bury your hand between your legs, your clit throbbing angrily.

Frankie moves his hand away from his cock and brackets your head with both hands, pushing you forward down his cock. Only halfway down and you begin gagging, struggling for breath. You knew he’d be big, you just weren’t aware of how big.

A cruel laughter rings above you, “That’s it?” he asks. “That’s all you can take?” you look up, eyes teary as he thrust a little bit more. Your throat squeezes helplessly around the width of him, your nostrils flaring. Frankie clicks his tongue, “My poor baby sister,” he tuts. “You’re not used to taking something this big huh?”

You attempt to convey an answer but end up choking around him instead, your lids flutter, wet lashes kissing the skin under your eyes. “I guess I’ll have you train you myself,” your nipples harden at the promise, slick gathering at the seams of your underwear. “But later,” he says and much to your disappointment, pulls out.

You breathe heavily, chest heaving as oxygen floods your lungs.

“Strip,” he says, pulling off his shirt and kicking his pants away. “And get on the bed.”

“So bossy,” you mutter, and as soon as you do, Frankie tugs you roughly against him, his tongue slipping between your lips hastily. He doesn’t allow you to breathe, mouth moving before you get the chance. He licks deeper into your mouth, and sucks your tongue as he parts away. Your insides flush. Your head spinning and legs trembling. Lightheaded, you grip his shoulders.

“I’m not bossy,” he grunts, wet lips touching your forehead. “I’m just eager.”

That makes both of you. Quickly stripping, you climb the bed waiting for him to show you just how eager he was.

Instead, he walks around the bed, examing the pillows, “Which one is his?”

“Santi’s pillow?” you raise an eyebrow. “It’s the one on the left.”

He takes it with a hum, “Spread your legs,” he says and when you do, he places the pillow between them. Your heart races, a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. You don’t lower yourself down on the pillow, too embarrassed to do so. Frankie sits on the footstool at the end of the bed and takes his cock into his fist. He stares at you expectantly.

“Uh—What am I supposed to do?”

His cat-like grin makes you realize he wanted you to ask that, he leans forward, touching himself slowly, “I want you to make a mess of his pillow,” he groans. You clench at the order, your cheeks heating at how slick you’ve gotten just from the thought of it. “I want you to drench it so when he lays his head, he knows you don’t belong to him.”

Frankie’s gaze flash with hunger, it frightens you to a degree, how angry he truly is.

The fact that you actually do it, frightens you more.

You lower yourself onto the pillow, feeling its softness beneath you and a strange thrill whispering through your body as your arousal surges higher. With a moan, you begin to ride the pillow, sinking your hips deeper with every thrust. You feel it grazing your clit, a whimper dropping from your lips. Mouth agape, you lift your gaze to Frankie.

He’s stroking himself with a smile, wet noises coming from his fist fill the room, he swipes a thumb over the head. Your mouth flooding with saliva, you press against the pillow harder, the muscles of your legs clenching. Frankie notices and spreads his legs further, giving you a show of cupping his balls before moving his hand up again.

“You look like you’ve never seen cock before,” he purrs. “You can’t wait can you? For me to fill that hungry pussy up. Don’t worry, big brother is going to take care of you.”

“Fuck—” you can feel your body becoming increasingly slick, your breathing heavy and labored as pleasure ripples across your skin. Your body tenses and trembles as you rock against the pillow relentlessly, the coil tightening as you circle your hips.

Dampness gross underneath you, Frankie’s eyes fixed on where you and Santi’s pillow connect. You’re embarrassingly wet, strings of slick stretching between. Your movements start to slow as your orgasm nears, it’s too much and you have the need to just bend over and let Frankie fuck you hard without any of the games.

The legs of the footstool drag against the hardwood floors, the sound making you jump. Climbing the bed, he sits on his knees, “Let me feel how wet you are,” he groans. He pushes his hand between your legs without waiting for an answer. He slips a finger in, your eyes rolling back at the pressure. “He can’t get you this wet can he?” he asks rhetorically. “Bet he’d loved to see you getting yourself off like this, coming for another man.” he curses, thrusting into his other hand.

You hover above the pillow, your thighs starting to shake for exertion.

“Don’t stop, baby. Come on, soak it—soak it and I’ll fuck you.”

Your nipples tighten and your skin begins to tingle with arousal. Your head tilts backward and your mouth opens slightly as your body arches and grinds against the pillow. Something devastating builds inside, it builds and builds and builds—builds until you can’t take it anymore. Liquid heat sprays out of you, your walls convulsing as you drip down his hand and soak the pillow, just like he said.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he murmurs, pulling out his finger and dragging the wet digit over your cheek. He kisses you deeply. “Good fucking girl,” he growls into your mouth, nipping your chin.

You gasp for breath, your hips slowing but still shaking with pleasure even when you stop. Your mind is in a state of ecstasy. Frankie forces your jaw apart and purses his lips, spitting into your mouth. You jolt when it hits your tongue. “Swallow,” he murmurs.

“Gonna fuck you now, sweet girl,” he coos. “Gonna claim you on the bed you sleep with him every night,” he chuckles into your mouth. “I’m going to fuck you so good that Pope’s gonna keep wondering why it always smells like sex in here.”

God, you wish it didn’t but the words and the depravity he said them in makes your skin prickle, an involuntary moan slipping from your lips.

Frankie turns you over, pulling the pillow under your hips as you remain on all fours. Your arms feel weak, legs still trembling from your orgasm. “F–Frankie,” you slur your words.

“Don’t worry baby,” he murmurs, pressing his mouth over the small of your back. “I got you, and I’m never gonna let go.”

He positions Santi’s pillow under your hips, the fabric dark in color from your slick. Your arms finally gave way and you drop face-first into the sheets, you can smell him now, Santi’s pine scent fills your lungs.

Shit, what the hell is wrong with you?

“Stop thinking about him,” Frankie hisses from behind you, parting your folds by dragging his length. He lets out a deep sigh before you can answer. “It doesn’t matter, you won’t be able to think of anything else soon anyway.”

You shudder at the promise of his words. He leans in, the heft of his body covering yours as his lips touch your ear, “I’m gonna come inside this pretty cunt. Then you’re going to squeeze every bit of it out and taste it—Got it?”

“Y-Yes,” your voice is trembling, your body burning from the inside out.

Suddenly he grips your nape, squeezing until pain ebbs under the skin. You swallow, tears stinging the corner of your eyes; he doesn’t say a word, pushing his cock between your wet thighs. It’s filthy how he makes you feel, how badly you want to surrender to him. You drool all over him, your walls spasming until the head catches against your clit and a whimper leaves your lips.

Frankie comes to a halt and his grip around your nape lightens, caressing the skin.

You let out a little groan as he eases himself inside you. He moves further and further until he’s fully sheathed. A thrill surges through your body. Your eyes roll back at finally faving him inside, a wanton moan falling from your lips.

Frankie flexes his cock and you groan at the stretch, “Who’s bigger?” he huffs, pushing deeper. Your body becomes limp underneath him. “Me or him.”

“You,” you manage to garble a response. “You’re so much bigger than him, Frankie.”

“Yeah?” he pants, chest heaving. “He can’t fuck you like this can he?”

He presses your hips flush against the pillow, the dampness that touch you scorching your skin. You nod helplessly and claw against the sheets. “He can’t—” you choke out. “Frankie please.”

He gives you what you want, grinding against you, cock filling you up with every forceful thrust. His ragged moans echo around the room, and you grasp onto the sheets tighter. Every thought is knocked out of your head every time he buries himself into you. Hips bruising where it hits your skin. You reach the peak quickly, that familiar tingle blossoming between your legs.

“Fuck—” beads of sweat line Frankie’s body, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. “You feel so good, so fucking good.”

He wraps an arm around you and pulls you out, holding one breast tight. His thumb goes in circles, lust lapping at your tired body as he presses deeper. “I want to feel you coming just on my cock,” he moans into your cheek.

Frankie angles himself in a way that he brushes against something devastating inside of you. It’s like a jolt of electricity, the force of it enough to empty the air in your lungs. He drags his cock over the same spot again and again, his thrust quick paced. You cry out his name when static fills your ears and dots dance over yoru vision. Your head falls back, chest heaving as your body quakes.

Your cunt continues to squeeze and throb around him, and soon enough, you feel the hot spill of come filling you to the brim. You swear another orgasm washes over you, the flavor of it thick on your tongue as you meet his thrusts. Frankie huffs a tired laugh and grips your asscheeks, spreading them.

“I can feel you dripping,” he murmurs, you hear the smile in his voice. “Makes me want to stay buried in your forever,” in contrast to his words, Frankie pulls out. “I hope you didn’t forget what I said,” he kisses your neck, long and slow. “Drag that full pussy all over his pillow.”

You spread your legs wider, rolling your hips over the soft material, you hiss when it brushes over your clit. “S-Shit, Frankie—”

“Bet he never fucked you like that before,” he remarks. Satisfied with the mess, he gestures you to move away. You practically collaps, head thudding against the headboard. Frankie’s gaze is fixed on the poor pillow, drenched in your slick and his come.

No matter what Frankie says, you’re not letting Santi sleep on that pillow. You’re fucked up, but you’re not that fucked up.

Staring at the pillow, reality finally settles in. A sharp inhale parts your lips and Frankie’s eyes snap toward the sound, his gaze searching yours. “There’s no going back from this,” he says. “When’s he coming back?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Good,” he crawl over to you, taking place between your still trembling legs. He slides his palm up your tigh and presses his mouth against your neck. “That’ll give us more time.”

You’re too much of a coward to ask time for what.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x fem!reader #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #hauntedhoedown

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pouringmyheartoutforpaper · 1 year

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steve accidentally spills a drink over his cute soft shy little angel gf’s shirt and has flashbacks of tina’s halloween party where he spilled punch on nancy and she subsequently broke his heart— so he panics. but his precious girl only giggles until she notices how panicked her stevie really is and she’s all understanding and reassuring and gives him a bunch of smooches and tells him she loves him so so much 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

this is so not proofread but this prompt is so cute.

youre at a party and its loud and obnoxious. not something you’d usually go to. hes fumbling with both of your drinks and youre reaching out to him to help him but hes already had one beer and hes a little tipsy. he subsequently spills both drinks all over both of you. he doesnt really remember why this is so scary to him because his head is a little foggy. he just remembers the sinking feeling thats associated with it.

and you think its hilarious, your shirt is stained red and hes frantically apologizing and trying to fix it. he doesnt notice your giggles because hes so worried about losing you right now. if he was completely sober right now, it would only be a little scare at first, and then immediately calming back down. but hes acting on impulse at this point and hes so scared youre going to hurt him. your smile drops when you see how frantic he is.

“stevie, stevie, hey. hey, look at me. look at me, baby. whats wrong?”

and he finally does meet your eyes and immediately tears up.

“m’sorry, didnt mean to.” hes frantically wiping his tears away while he stands in front of you. its at this point that you recall what nancy had told him a few years ago. “m’sorry”

You lean forward to give him a sweet kiss on both of his cheeks, which calms him down. You decide it would be best if you got him out now, starting to lead him back to the car. Whispering “m not mad at you stevie. youre okay.”You end up helping him into the back seat, so you can be closer to him for a moment before you drive home.

“Look at me, no big deal, okay? It’s just a shirt honey, you didn’t mean to. Here, watch.” You pick up one of Steves old sweatshirts that he keeps for when you’re cold off the seat behind you. Quickly removing your shirt and becoming slightly more worried when his eyes don’t flicker down once. You pull the sweater on swiftly and look back at him. “See, all better! I like this shirt more anyways.”

He giggles a little bit, which you mirror back at him before noticing his own stained shirt. You reach behind the seats into his old Hawkins High Basketball bag, pulling out the old sweatshirt that was a little short on him now.

“Here, put this on.” You turn away while he takes off the white t shirt he had been wearing and replaces it with the soft fabric.

You’re brought back by his arms around your waist and his face in the crook of your neck. Feeling perfect now.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve x you #steve x reader #st smut #dove and steve

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partycatty · 3 months

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dark star johnny hatefucking his gf/bf over the balcony in his mansion, and acting like he’s gonna drop them off of the balcony if they misbehave in any way

this one has been SIMMERINGGGG in my inbox ive been too excited to write it LOLOL, also i changed this prompt just a smidge

dark star!johnny cage > fall for me

warnings: SMUT AS FUCK, UR LIFE IS BEING THREATENED BUT UR INTO IT LOL, again ds!jc is just literally insane !! also exhibitionism !! and also cnc !! jesus this man needs hella warnings!

notes: IM SORRY U GUYS HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG YOU ALL HAVE BEEN SO PATIENT SO IM REWARDING YOU

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 6*

[ masterlist ]

• dark star!johnny has a short temper, one he enjoys putting out on you. oftentimes, you didn't actually do anything, he's just mad at the idea of you going against him and that's typically enough to rile him up alone.

• this time around, you were a whopping ten minutes behind getting ready for one of his A-List parties. something about your makeup just didn't feel right no matter how many times you applied your eyeshadow or concealer, so adjustment after adjustment left johnny tapping his foot outside of the bedroom door.

• "baby~," he'd sing-song shout from the crack of the door. "this party is a big networking deal for me, and you're already fucking it up~!"

• "i didn't fuck anything up," you reply from the vanity seat, trying to focus on your lip liner. "we'll be on time, you baby."

• "don't you talk back to me!" he slams his palm again the wood, making you jump and, yet again, smear your liner. your lower your head to the vanity, bumping your forehead against the surface with a sigh.

• he eventually unlocks the bedroom door using his master key and ushers you out of the door with the temper of a toddler. his hand grabs your upper arm as you're placed into his luxury car and he drives off with a huff.

• johnny refuses to speak to you the entire time you're at the party, mostly ignoring you to bump shoulders with directors and writers. he wouldn't ever publically admit it, but roles were running dry as his agent turned up with no jobs, so he brought it up to himself to make some damn money.

• will probably call you the "ball and chain" or "the missus" in a super objectifying way as he gestures at you, trying to make the older higher-ups laugh. you had enough of it.

• deciding no longer to be his personal punchline, you wander away from the bustling, hot celebrity room and find a balcony. you were always the one to prefer fresh, open air and city skylines while johnny would rather be the one in the midst of the aforementioned city. you took advantage of this independence and leaned over the glass, savoring in the way the wind cools your damp skin.

• you only get to enjoy a few minutes in the quiet bliss before you hear the door slide open. at first, you expect it to be another partygoer hoping to squeeze in a quick smoke break, but you're horribly disappointed to be ripped from your tranquility by none other that your boyfriend.

• johnny stands at the door, fists clenched and jacket swirling in the wind. his eyes look dark, his brows furrowed.

• "where'd you go?" he asks, crossing his arms.

• you look at him like he's stupid (because he is). "the balcony?" you reply. johnny shakes his head.

• "that's not what i meant."

• "well, i left your side because i was tired of being shit on for an hour straight."

• "nobody's shitting on anyone!" johnny throws his arms in the air at your admittance, like he had no idea how cruel he was being. "they're just jokes! you're being dramatic. i thought you loved attention."

• "johnny-" you pinch your nose. "i have literally never said that."

• "but you show it! through your actions!"

• "oh my god, you're delusional," you turn away from him with a groan, trying to ignore the whiny bastard behind you. that proves a hard task when you hear his boots step up behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and head buried in your neck.

• "you know i want you here," he mumbles into your skin, rocking you gently. you turn your face away from him, not falling for his charm.

• "you don't show it," you mutter in response, trying to take a step away from him but his grasp only strengthens.

• "i could," he hums, pressing his front to your backside. "or i could punish you for making us late."

• you swivel your head, craning your neck to glare at him. "seriously? now?" he breathes into your neck, agreeing breathlessly. "no, johnny. not here. people will see."

• "isn't that the fun part?" he grunts, grinding his hips into your ass. "don't be boring. you've been boring all night."

• his hands hike up your skirt hungrily, exposing your nearly-naked ass to the cold air. you shiver and yelp out, which only makes you jump back against him even harder. he shudders at the contact.

• "come on," he whispers, hands snaking up to squeeze your chest. "don't make me be mean. you know i don't like being mean to you." his fingers find your hardened nipples, massaging them with pinched fingers.

• attempting to crane your neck to ensure the balcony's doors are locked, johnny notices your diverted attention and holds your jaw, angling it out toward the city.

• "you see that?" he breathes, now fully grinding against you. "that's my city, baby. i'm the king of hollywood, isn't that right?"

• "i guess," you reply, gasping at his erection sliding against you.

• SMACK! johnny didn't like that answer. you lurch forward from the hard slap to your ass.

• "say it," he growls, biting your neck. "or i'm gonna make you."

• "you're the king of hollywood," your voice is comically flat, exhausted from always having to gas him up for the dumbest things. johnny picks up on your unenthusiastic tone and spins you around by your hips, sitting you on the balcony ledge. his lips latch onto your throat, sucking and biting hungrily.

• his fingers danced on your panties, sliding them aside. as much as you wanted to be annoyed with him, he is so unimaginably fine. and you're the type of person that likes to be manhandled. both traits he ate up.

• before you could say anything more, johnny's fingers dove into your mouth, collecting a good amount of your saliva before using it on your pussy, shoving two fingers inside making you cry out in surprise.

• "not here, right?" he breathes, savoring the way your breathing gets heavier and your skin warms from his touch. "then we'd better be quick. and quiet." his fingers scissor inside of you, making you moan with a hand shut over your lips.

• johnny was impatient, not finding any joy in fingering you, so he glanced behind him to ensure the coast was clear before whipping his dick out, holding his shirt up by his teeth. he lined himself up, eyes focused on your bodies merging rather than your expressions.

• didn't matter how many times you get it on, you will never be fully ready for how long his dick is. while not the thickest, it just feels seemingly endless as it's embracing your walls.

• he spins you around again, throwing your front over the balcony ledge and holding you by your hips. surely, if he were to let go, you'd fall. and it wasn't a short drop.

• "fuck," he hissed as his tip met your entrance. "i control you, isn't that right?"

• a distant "mhm" slips from your lips as johnny shoves himself inside again with a slapping thrust. his gasp slides into whimper territory as he bottoms out.

• "fuck yeah i do," he growls, now going at an unholy pace. he hated the progression of sex - it was either all or nothing. "could drop you right now."

• you're pulled from your lust when you look down, noticing the rocky way down to a small river. damn these celebrities and their hillside mansions. you swallow thickly, hoping he was joking.

• "please don't," you beg in a whisper, interrupted by gasps with each thrust. "please don't let go."

• johnny could only laugh loudly at your plea, bruising your hips with his grip as he ruthlessly pounded. he was sticking true to his word about being quick, because his breakneck pace was making your cunt flutter.

• "nobody would even notice," he moans, his shirt dropping from his teeth and falling back down his front. "i'm the star."

• "you're the star," you parrot in a sick mix of lust and fear. "you're my everything."

• "i could fucking throw you off for making us late. could drop you — haah — you like it when i play god, don't you? you wanna fall for me, baby?"

• his brows knit and eyes screw shut as he finds his release inside of you. you try hard to not laugh at the fact that his own dirty talking is making him close. his grip loosens as he concentrates, and you fearfully try to hold yourself against the balcony so you don't topple forward.

• "joh— john—" you worriedly look down again, your stomach flipping as it nears an orgasm - and potential death. "johnny, please—"

• "hmm?" johnny tilts his head, a cocky smirk on his lips and exposing his beautiful pearly white teeth.

• your brain feels torn in half. you want to beg him to hold on, but you also want to cum so badly. unable to decide on an outcome, your voice sputters out pathetic begs, not entirely coherent as your mind grows foggy with an overwhelming amount of emotion.

• thankfully, your body decides for you. your knees buckle inward and his hold on you tightens. you cry out, cumming around his dick as your voice echoes through the hills. you swear a flock of birds takes off from how loudly you orgasm.

• "haah — don't fucking fall—" johnny's hands pull you impossibly closer. "not when i'm clo— ngh —"

• you find no peace after finishing, just johnny's hips slamming into your ass as his pants grow uneven. it's not long before he spills inside of you, holding you there as you're filled up.

• johnny's the first one to pull away, pulling out and making you whimper from the emptiness. you turn around to face him, your ass still bare, red, and spilling with semen. his phone's in his hand when he snaps a couple photos of this puppy eyed look.

• "you look so pathetic," he laughs, the flash of his camera making you shield your eyes. "i bet hollywood heard those moans. all thanks to me."

• you pull up your own panties and johnny visibly twitches seeing a droplet of his cum seep through. shockingly, he places a quick, chaste kiss to your lips.

• "and you're welcome for not dropping you," he winks with a toothy grin, thinking it was some kind of joke. a deep, dark part of you knew he probably genuinely considered dropping you. you were just lucky you were only ten minutes late, who knows what he'd do if you were an hour late.

• as you're pondering your life and near-death experience, johnny returns to the party, waiting for you at the door. it would be best if you stuck by him for the rest of the party.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut #marley writes ☆

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for essentially calling my girlfriend gross when she told me about her hygiene routine.

Me (20NB) and my GF(20F) were talking tonight. She kept mentioning how nice her hair smelled after washing it and how soft it felt after conditioning it. I also like the smell of freshly washed hair so while I thought her mentioning it a lot was a bit excessive I got why she would mention it. Then she brought up how you don't need to watch you hair that often. Again, sort of out of the blue but yeah you don't need to wash your hair everyday I normally go five to seven days between washes just due to my hair type. But then she says "you honestly don't even need to wash your body that often as long as you are in the shower and let the water run". That really shocked me because that is in contrast to everything I know. She then talks about how it's actually better for your skin to not use soap. I mentioned how sweat and bacteria don't come off without soap. She then says (and this is what is haunting me) "it comes off with just water like when you soak dishes". This prompts questions like: Does she wash her dishes?, Does she know how oil and water work?, Does she use soap at all and if so how often? I have known this girl for almost a year and this has not come up once somehow. I was given what the kids are calling The Ick. I ended up just telling her that's not how that worked and shut the conversation down. We have been long distance and honestly this is making me never want to spend time with her in person let alone do anything of a physical nature. I feel bad for feeling so grossed out and also acting like I was grossed out while talking to her but this is gross! She just seemed so steadfast in her no soap hygiene lifestyle it is driving me up a wall thinking about it. She is otherwise very well adjusted and smart so it felt very out of the blue.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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shadowdaddies · 4 months

Note

May you please write Manon x sunshine girl reader where she begs Manon to take her with her to one of her meetings in terrasen maybe and Manon eventually says yes and the whole time they are in the meeting Manon has her on her lap and def glares at anyone who looks too long lollol

Literally everyone (Aelin, Rowan, Dorian etc.) is like shocked because they didn’t know Manon has a mate and how this ray of sunshine is with a whole man eater lolol

this is such a cute prompt 💜 love Manon with a sunshine gf

Golden

Manon x Reader fluff

“Love, would you please let me join you in this meeting?” you pleaded, tugging Manon closer by her hands, giving her your best doe eyes as you batted your lashes at her.

With a wry smirk, Manon brought a hand to your hair, running her fingers through as she moved to cup your cheek. “Why would you want to go? I don’t even want to go. It’ll be boring political talk-“ she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Gods, it’s stressing me out just thinking about it.”

Pulling her hand away from her face, you smiled brightly, rocking back and forth on your heels in eagerness. “Exactly! But I can be there to make it less terrible. And I’m happy to go wherever you go,” you murmured, twining your fingers with hers as you leaned close, lips almost brushing.

“That does make for a tempting offer,” she murmured, golden eyes shimmering as she leaned forward, lips brushing against yours tenderly.

You followed Manon down the hall of the castle towards the room where the meeting was being held, rushing forward to take her hand in yours, rubbing your thumb against her skin in comfort. The beautiful witch maintained a stern expression, but you felt her muscles relax under your touch as the two of you entered the room.

Four heads turned towards you, all of them standing around the table. Each of them wore curious expressions, and you watched as the striking blonde’s turquoise eyes flicked down to your joined hands, an amused smile on her full lips. Her eyes slid to Manon, grin broadening into something mischievous.

“Manon,” she purred. “I don’t believe I’ve met your friend.” Manon sighed, rolling her eyes as she gestured towards the people around you.

First indicating towards the blonde, Manon drawled, “this is Aelin, her husband, Rowan,” and turning towards the two men next to them, she continued, “and this is Dorian and Fenrys.”

Dorian reached out a hand towards you, but you ignored it as you charged at him, wrapping your arms around the man in a warm hug. “I’ve heard so much about all of you! It’s so lovely to finally meet you!” you gushed, hugging each of them, oblivious to their shock and amusement.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Manon interrupted, prompting everyone to take their seats. Pulling out her seat, you instinctively took a spot on her lap, curling your legs up as you wrapped your arms around her neck.

Resting your head against her chest, you listened quietly as the Erilean rulers discussed politics and trade. You couldn’t help your proud smile as Manon spoke, the sheer authority she exuded. Absentmindedly, you braided her long white hair, admiring her beauty and the soothing timber of her voice as she spoke.

You’d nearly drifted off to sleep when something bumped against your foot, rousing you from your half-wake state. Looking down, you saw a dog with golden fur and caramel eyes staring up at you.

“Oh, aren’t you beautiful!” you cooed, jumping to the floor as you petted the pup, giggling as she licked your face.

“That’s Fleetfoot,” Aelin spoke, a fond smile on her features as she watched the dog lean its head against your shoulder, nudging you in request for more scratches.

“Fleetfoot, what a sweetheart,” you murmured, letting the dog rest her head in your lap as you continued showing her love.

“She doesn’t usually take to strangers so quickly,” Rowan noted, Aelin nodding in agreement.

“It seems like you have a talent for earning affection from... those less inclined to affection,” Fenrys teased, throwing you a wink as Manon glared at him.

“I’ve had enough of all of you for tonight,” Manon grumbled, standing up from her seat as she reached for your hand. You took hold of hers, leaning into the witch’s side as you bid the others a good night.

“Your friends are so lovely, Manon! We should get a dog,” you noted, practically skipping down the hall back towards your shared bedroom.

“They are not my friends. And we already have Abraxos,” Manon retorted.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you flashed her a playful grin. “Sure, those aren’t your friends,” you said in a sarcastic tone. “I had a wonderful time. Thank you for letting me join you,” you continued, eyes turning soft as you became more serious.

Manon stopped, pulling you to her as her hands threaded in your hair. “Thank you, for being there for me. I love you,” she whispered, leaning down as she began peppering kissed along your jaw, down your neck.

A whimper escaped you, the need to have her alone suddenly the only thing on your mind. Breathlessly, you tugged her away only to pull her along with you down the hall. “Let’s go back to the room and I’ll show you just how much I love you, too.”

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kiophen · 6 months

Note

Re: tags on that ask about callout posts (not the same anon), can I ask about the 4lung situation? I haven't looked into what happened too deeply but from what I have seen nothing is super well documented or explained

If its too much and you don't feel like getting into it don't worry about it, feel free to disregard. I'm mostly just curious since I've heard things and it was mentioned

I was prompted to do my own digging into the whole situation surrounding her a few years ago. She was excluded from an online music event due to someone bringing up concerns with the organizers privately. I found that basically every public accusation about her is not true, and/or redacted by the accusers. The only true accusations are the ones that really don't matter; she retweeted porn on main and was a babyfur. These things were used to bludgeon her with pedo accusations and back up all the fake shit thrown on top to make it more convincing.

"Did you know she attempted to KIDNAP a KID?? Oh, the kid said it wasn't a kidnapping and the accuser said they jumped to conclusions and apologized? Well did you know she TWEETED a SLUR? Oh that was actually photoshopped by kiwifarmers? Well did you know she SEXUALLY HARASSED a MINOR? Oh, that was actually her shitty ex-gf trying to make her look bad in retaliation to a bad breakup? Well did you know x and y and z misinterpreted or fabricated things? Well at least you can agree that being a BABYFUR is something worth ritualistically harassing a trans woman, over right?"

One reason why stuff isn't well documented is because the main person who was pushing the accusations so hard ended up apologizing and retracting and deleting a lot of posts (and also I think they're suspended, which deletes all their tweets, and most of this shit happened in twitter threads). They did get bullied into removing their apology too.

Another reason is that a lot of the situation was people seeing the original callout posts years ago, internalizing the message "This Person Bad Pedo Bad Bad Person Bad" from it, and then later being like "Ummmmm isn't that person a pedophile? Yikes?" to their friend who brought her up who then says "Oh My Fuck I am Sorry I Did not Know that!" and then it just gets spread around like that through uncurious people who don't care enough to check

I have my own collection of archived tweets from when I was trying to find the root of these claims and might make a full writeup about the situation someday, but also I have complicated feelings about whether I would be just be immortalizing this shitty behavior, if it would just lead to more people trying to harm her, or if anyone would even learn anything from it. Also I don't want the person who started the accusations to get dragged back into this since I can tell they were being manipulated and gaslit as fuck by other bullies into making this such a big part of their life for so long.

Specifically about the kidnapping thing: After one of her shows, she and a friend drove a teenager to an Arbys to get picked up by their parent as a nice gesture due to some trouble the teen was having. The situation was catastrophized by either this teen or the accuser into a "kidnapping" (there is conflicting information, they both blame each other) and then the accuser tweeted it out. The teen has since said they didn't really think they were being kidnapped, and the accuser said the kidnapping aspect was made up.

#DO NOT go bother her with this. she has said she does not want random peoples apologies #it feels weird not posting the receipts but i would also feel weird about posting them. if you want them PM me.#ask #miles junk

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miloformula123fan · 4 months

Note

Hey, can I request something (don't really care what, I just want to read something about this 😭) about Y/N being Max (or Charles or both 👀) best friend, but everyone (from the grid, their team and the fans) think they're dating, but Y/N is actually either aroace or not into guys (maybe she even has a girlfriend). Eventually someone of them snaps and she brings her gf to a race or wears a shirt with a giant asexual pun on it. 🙈

I hope this is not too specific (or not specific enough idk 😭) and I would love if you could do something like that.

okay I'll be honest I loved this, but my layout was not going well so this turned into a blurb

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

Okay I apologise, I really wanted to get this out, so I did turn this into a blurb

And I loved how detailed this request was - i really don’t mind how detailed you get as long as I can write something

Y/N grew up with Max and Charles

So even before they made it to f1, the fangirls were shipping it

And it wasn’t that big of a deal

Until it was

Aka all the media questions were about her relationship

And her attempted soft launch on her insta

It got a bit annoying when Christian joked about her letting Max win the championship

And Callum and the mechanics were constantly making jokes and laughing at the 2 of them

And when she spent 10 of a 15 minute press conference answering questions about Max and Charles

Yeah she’d had enough

So she brought her girlfriend to a race.

(probably Maya Hawke, cause let’s be honest every lesbian and bi girl has a crush on her)

So it’s just the 2 ultimate women together

The world goes crazy

Christian just turns round and goes ‘why didn’t you tell me?’

It gets worse when Y/N rocks up to the press conference, not in her red bull shirt but this shirt

Twitter goes wild

Any of coure Y/N wins the race for Maya

(i can’t even drive and I would win the race for Maya)

#f1 blurbs #miloformula123fan #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x you #charles leclerc x you #maya hawke x reader #maya hawke x you #maya hawke

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kookygranger · 3 months

Text

Is This Desire?

Firefighter!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader

Love isn't always enough. Steve disagrees.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, angst, reader gets in a verbal fight with steve, witchcraft, reader is a town outcast, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au

Word count: 2.4k

Author's note: That’s it for this little series! I’ll still be thinking about lover boy Steve and his witchy gf (me) for the rest of the summer while I down sweet iced tea, so please send through any questions, ideas or PJ Harvey lyrical prompts if you’d like me to turn them into blurbs!

Series Masterlist

Chapter Five: To Lift Above

It began with small incidents.

A look from strangers, as you’re buying a loaf of bread and that peanut butter Steve likes at the grocery store in town. One that judges without even knowing you, deciding you’ll always be a subject in the rumour mill.

Whispers as you walk past people in town, hand-in-hand with their golden boy.

How could he be with her? He must be under some love spell. She keeps him trapped up in that house. He’s always with her, following her around like a lost puppy. She must’ve hexed him.

Steve Harrington would be better off without that witch.

After your uncle died and you were employed by the library you spent a lot more time in town, but ultimately you still kept mostly to yourself. You may have felt restricted growing up in that house, but it was a safe space – certainly now after you’d transformed it into a proper home and Steve had brought light to the darkest corners of it.

And when the glares and slights got too much, you could retreat. Find solace in your books and soft cushions, in the perfumed garden full of life and forgiving nature.

But Steve, enamoured as he was, would find you time and time again. You didn’t think much of it at first, more than happy to welcome him into your space where he fit in just perfectly – like he always does. But the whispers eventually wore you down.

Maybe he was spending too much time away from his life. Maybe he should be having drinks after work with the rest of his colleagues, playfully pestering Robin at the bar instead of being curled up on the couch eating takeout because you couldn’t handle going out.

Maybe he should be dating a normal girl that wouldn’t turn him into a town pariah. That wouldn’t drag him down to her level.

After Steve’s close call, you watched over him in that hospital bed. The wheels turning all night, small incidents only fuelling the fire.

Steve Harrington would be better off without you.

You knew he wouldn’t back down easy. He would disagree of course, probably even change your mind with that charming smile, so you had to be smarter. You had to take his ability to fight back, fight for you, out of the equation.

Then the opportunity presented itself in the form of a spell.

It had been a couple of weeks since the incident, Steve recovering under your blankets as you played nurse, using his injury as a way to keep some distance. And as much as it pained Steve, he thought that’s all it was. He thought your refusal to turn cuddling into anything more and the faraway look in your eyes that hardly ever met his anymore was a symptom of the scare you’d endured. That you were still spooked and just being overly cautious of his wellbeing.

It wasn’t until he came across an open spell book one day in your library, after hobbling downstairs to find the novel he’d bookmarked while you were out, and noticed the matching ingredients gathered on the desk around it, that he finally realised where your mind had been going.

You call for him an hour later, when you come home and find the bed empty upstairs. He hears your feet padding around the house until your head peaks through the library door and you spot him sitting on the chair at your desk.

“What is this?”

You step into the room. “What do you mean? I thought we had that discussion about my books. I’m a witch remember.”

He hates the bitterness that word seems to hold on your tongue. Like it’s a slur rather than a gift. Like you could ever be anything other than a miracle.

“Please don’t condescend me.”

You falter, a frown creasing your face. “I wasn’t trying to–I’m sorry.” He watches you shrink in on yourself when your eyes flicker between the book and surrounding evidence. “I just think it would be for the best.”

“What exactly?” His hand brings the book closer to him, eyes scanning the contents before landing back on you. “What are you planning to do with a memory-wiping spell, huh?”

He’s angry, and you know he’s already worked it out. But he needs to hear you admit it.

“I was planning to make you forget me, Steve.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, scared to initiate this conversation you were trying desperately to avoid.

His jaw clenches, and when his voice comes out steady, you know he’s trying his hardest to still be soft with you. “Can you please explain to me why on earth you would do that?”

Your eyes squeeze shut at the first sign of burning, head tilting upwards to avoid a spill over your lash line. You take a deep breath in, confessing on the exhale. “You shouldn’t be with me. You deserve someone else, someone–better for you.”

“I disagree.” You hear the chair creak as he stands up and your head snaps down, body instinctively ready to reach out to him in his injured state before you stop it. “That person doesn’t exist. Next.” He gestures for you to continue, so dismissively that your blood begins to boil. “What are your reasons?”

You huff, “My reasons? How about the fact that you can’t walk down the street with me without getting dirty looks! How about when you miss out on spending time with your friends from work or going out with Robin because you’re stuck here hiding with me?”

“Stuck? How am I stuck? You realise I can make my own decisions, right? That I choose to be here with you because I want to. It is the best part of my day. Coming home to you. Waking up with you beside me. I don’t give a shit, what any of those small-minded people think.” His arms gesticulate so passionately you’d be concerned about his injured rib if you weren’t so preoccupied with getting your own point across.

“It isn’t enough.”

Steve’s shoulders deflate, he could feel his heart shattering. “What do you mean?”

“You’re giving up too much Steve.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I am. Besides, even if I was, I’d give up everything for you. I love you.”

You bite your lip, tears finally spilling over, hot on your flushed cheeks. “You think this is love?”

He frowns, “What else could it be?”

“Lust. Desire.”

He scoffs, “I know you don’t believe that. You’re just scared.”

You shrug, taking a step closer to him. “Maybe I am. Shouldn’t that mean something?”

“Yeah, it means that this is real.” He mirrors you with a step forward.

“Okay, then. What if it is love–”

“If?” He scoffs again, hands finding his hips in defence.

“Is love really enough? It can’t always be.”

“What else is there too it?”

“Many things Steve.” You’re almost whining, begging him to see your point of view.

“I don’t get it. Of course it’s enough. There’s no point in existing without you.” He steps closer again, bridging the gap with a gentle but grounding hand on your arm.

“You did before.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “It was nothing like this. And it wouldn’t ever be the same without you.” His free hand reaches up to wipe the tears off your face. “You’re scared I get it.”

You sniffle as you lean into his touch. “Aren’t you?”

“I was to begin with. I never knew I could love so intensely, and it scared me. The thought of messing this up,” he shakes his head eyes burrowing into yours, a crease in between his brows, “but not having you at all is a way worse fate. I’m standing here because I love you, and nothing can take that away. Not even your spell. You can’t make me forget how I feel.”

You laugh wetly, softening as you turn pliable under his touch. “Are you trying to undermine my magic Steve Harrington?”

He embraces you fully for the first time in weeks, nuzzling into your hair and kissing the side of your head. “I’m just tryna’ say you can’t control how other people feel. And you sure as hell can’t keep me away.”

Your arms reach around his torso and you cry into the warmth that is him.

“Steve.”

He grips you a little tighter, “I love you.”

You bury your face in his neck, voice muffled but full of conviction. “I love you too.”

***

Halloween 1993

The crinkling of plastic is what alerts you to his presence. He stops mid-chew when your head snaps up from the paper bag you were grabbing another packet from, hand literally caught in the candy jar.

“Steve!”

“It was just one.” He defends through a mouthful of chocolate, backing away from the plastic bowl of sugary treats. You walk over with a bag of lollipops and he smirks, leaning on the kitchen counter. “I think you’ve probably got enough to treat the whole town baby.”

You sigh, and pop the plastic bag in your hands, tipping its contents into another bowl. “I just don’t want to run out.” You mumble as you crinkle the empty packet in your hand before throwing it in the trash, but Steve still hears it. “Don’t need to give them any more ammunition to the egg the house.”

Steve frowns and you offer him a strawberry lollipop from the bowl before he has a chance to say anything. He grins, unwrapping the clear plastic over the candy quickly, smile never leaving his face as he sucks on his prize. An exaggerated pop and a corny line leaving him, “Mmm, almost as sweet as you.” Before he kisses your shoulder.

“Steve.”

He chuckles as you look away from him, burning up under his attention, squeezing your hip. “What? Where’s the lie?” Another kiss to your cheek, sugary sweet and you’re giggling like a child with a bag full of candy.

You’d dressed in your witchiest attire for the first Halloween without your uncle in this house. The first Halloween with Steve in it.

You wanted to let the people of this town see that there was nothing scary lurking in between the lavender and chamomile flowers. Just the tacky decorations you’d spent half a day putting up. You’d even dusted off an old, pointed hat you found in the attic belonging to one of your ancestors. Steve couldn’t hide his surprise when you’d come downstairs looking like a character from a children’s book. “Thought I’d get in on the joke.”

As the evening bleeds into night, and you still haven’t been visited by a single one of the children you can hear screaming and laughing beyond your garden gate, your hope of them taking your olive branch deflates.

You take your hat off, quickly wiping a tear away as you move inside and Steve’s heart breaks. Why won’t they give you a fucking chance? They don’t deserve you.

He bounds down the street, imaginary chain mail and armour glinting under the setting sun and finds some familiar faces in the fathers on his crew. He’s clapped on the back and welcomed into their circle, one of the older men asking the cause of the frown etched on his defiant face.

“It’s my girl, she’s a little upset that no one’s stopped by to trick or treat. I know it’s out of the way, but she’s done up the whole front of the house and it looks awesome. Even got full-sized candy bars, which I told her was too much.” He waves in the direction of your house.

“Full-sized candy?” A child dressed in a pirate costume runs up to the group. “Dad, can we go there?”

“Of course. Let’s go to Steve’s.”

When the door thuds shut behind Steve you don’t look up from your position on the couch, instead sinking in further and soaking up any stray tears with the sleeve of your dress.

“Baby, where’d the candy go?”

“It’s in the kitchen. Help yourself.” Your voice is small compared to Steve’s boisterous shout as he locates the goods.

“Thought you said I couldn’t have any.”

You shrug even though he can’t see it, “S’not like we need it.”

The doorbell chimes as he makes his way back through the house, grinning. “I don’t know about that.”

You shake your head, “It’s probably just some kids daring each other to ring the door.”

Steve thinks you look a lot like the little girl in the window as you sit there hugging your knees, his mind flashing back to the bats and screams and your warm presence. He thanks whatever higher power might’ve brought him to your house that night, even if it was just Tommy Hagan’s misguided machismo.

His voice is gentle, “Why don’t you come help me get the door.”

“Steve–“

“Baby, c’mon. Just trust me.”

You huff because you know you’ll never not trust that smile and follow him to the front door. When it creaks open to a chorus of high-pitched trick or treats, it takes you a second to register what’s happening. You blink when a little girl tells you she likes your costume, taking in the group of children on your doorstep with open arms holding out candy-filled bags and the parents giving Steve a wave from the bottom of the porch steps. A smile takes hold of your face, one of the brightest Steve has ever had the privilege of witnessing and you spring into action. You dish out handfuls of candy to each child, who squeals out delighted thanks and compliment every one of them on their costume.

Steve holds the bowl for you, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back the whole time until the children bound back down the front steps and he waves to their parents. An older gentleman smiles your way and thanks you and you return the sentiment as they all head off back down the garden path.

When the door closes on their excited chatter, you pull Steve in by his shirt collar for a deep kiss. His free hand resting on your waist when you lean back and whisper.

“Thank you.”

He’s dusted pink like it’s the first time your lips have ever met, his hand reaches up to your face, thumb swiping across your cheek that was sticky with tears just moments ago.

“I love you.”

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #firefighter!steve harrington #witch!reader #she writes

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angelkissiies · 1 year

Text

still thinking of hockey!abby bringing her innocent little cheerleader gf to a sex shop for the first time

“are you sure we can be here?” you hummed, focusing on the tiles beneath your feet as you allowed her to guide you through the crowded shelves. you didn’t dare to look up, the blush on your face already burning just being around so much vulgarity. “what if—,”

abby chuckled, giving your hand a soft squeeze as she came to a stop. “pretty, nobody is going to see you here. i promise.” she spoke softly, letting her free hand come to your chin. “come on, be brave for me, okay?”

your face was now angled up at her, soaking in the saccharine her eyes cast down onto you. you wanted this just as much as she did, more so even, so you nodded— breaking eye contact to look at where she’d brought you. a small squeak leaving your mouth as you realized the entire wall was filled with strap ons. “o-oh,” you swallowed thickly, looking between the girl and the wall. “which…?”

“that’s up to you, baby. you get to choose.” the blonde prompted, waving towards a section of smaller ones. “you might want to start here though, no need to rush it— don’t wanna break you.”

“b-break me?”

#hockey!abby x reader #hockey!abby x cheerleader!reader #hockey!abby blurb #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson ff #abby anderson #abbyanderson #abby tlou #abby anderson x you #misc

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v3nusxsky · 1 year

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Hello, I hope your having a nice day, do you think you can write a smut ladylesso x FM(gf) reader

Let's say she'd had called in sick, a lie nonetheless and she's hiding under her gf desk. Anyways lesso comes in teaching her class after a few minutes she goes and sit down. Looks down on desk to see a little note saying "let me please you while you work love~" as she's sitting. When she feels a pair of hands grabbing her thigh looks down and sees its her gf using a lust fill look with a "acted normal" face on. So that's what lesso did while feeling her gf unbutton,, unzip, and tug a little to lick, bite, suck, and eat her out while lesso teach trying to keep it cool. After class, reader was r@iled more then they can count with magic strap, causing reader to be shaking, and unable to feel her back or legs anything. Fluffy after care tho

Have a nice dayy

Sick day special 18+

*Authors note~ I've been working out what direction I wanted to take this fic in and I think I'm finally happy with it.*

Trigger warnings~ oral (l receiving) dom l sub r marking kink magical dick (r receiving)praise degradation slight pet kink? Breeding kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღSick days may as well be self care days, you'd not taken any days off since the start of the year. So why can't you take a self care/sick day? You immediately planned what you'd do on your day off, and a sinfully delicious idea. You knew that Lesso would be in lessons pretty much all day so it made your plan a little harder to execute but you were determined to achieve it.

Lesso entered her classroom rather frustrated, you were not well and yet you hadn't come to her for some comfort, or help. Yet when she was met with a neatly folded note, your cursive writing with Leonora written eloquently in the middle of it.

"You're tense mommy, let me help you relax, focus on your class I'll do everything else" signed "your dove x" now Lesso would be lying if she said the note didn't confuse her, but she trusted you implicitly as well as knowing she'd punish you for this stunt in due course.

Sitting in her chair, came straight against her desk, while you sat tucked away underneath the desk. You had to stifle a giggle at her blatant conversation before allowing her to teach. Only when she was settled into her usual routines for her class did you bring your hands to rest on her thighs, squeezing just the right amount to gain her attention. With the best puppy dog eyes you could muster you got her gaze and silently pleaded with her to act normal. Thankfully Leonora knew just how to school her features. Oh you were so being punished after this class.

Immediately she felt you tugging at her trousers and flying with her zip which caused her to raise her hips ever so slightly, not expecting you to take both pants and her lace underwear from her, sliding it down her legs. Now her pretty cunt was on full display for you, you couldn't help lick and nip at her pale thighs, ensuring you left nice markings for her to be reminder of this moment. Deciding you were too easily on her you brought your mouth to take an teasing swipe of her now soaked slit. But as always with Leonora, one taste is never enough, you needed more of her so you dove right in, eating her pussy in all the ways you knew drove her mad. Her hips secretly bucking against your face causing to smirk against her cunt before taking her aching clit between your lips and slipping two fingers into her awaiting hole.

To say Lesso struggled to keep her composure would be laughable really, the poor women was being tormented being edged over and over by your busy mouth and fingers. Thankfully she managed to make it through the whole lesson, once all students had fled her classroom she used her finger to lock the door, placing a hand in your hair she urged you away from her aching centre. She wanted to cum, of course she did but you had to learn bad pets don't get that pleasure of pleasing mommy.

As you stood from under the desk, Leonora's essence dripped from your chin, you wore the most satisfied grin Lesso had ever seen from you. Your pupils blown wide with lust you purred, "mm taste so good mommy." Any upper hand you held, was completely destroyed the moment her hand found your throat, squeezing hard enough to be dizzying as she shoved you against the wall behind her. Your lips met in a battle of dominance, all teeth and tongues until you ultimately lost, submitting to her easily as she nibbled at your bottom lip just hard enough to coax a few droplets of blood to the surface.

"Now pet, you know that stunt of yours needs correcting don't you" she purred down your ear as you struggled to regain your breath from the dizzying kiss. A harsh smack to your thigh had confirmation tumbling from your lips, "yes mommy!"

Before you knew it clothing was gone and your girlfriends hands were at your chest, twisting, tweaking and tugging at your sensitive buds while her lips made home on your neck, marking you up just as nicely as you had to her thighs. "Mommy, god please mommy" you mewled over and over while pressing your thighs to give in order to help relieve just a small amount of the ache that reminded there. "Now now pet, does eating mommy out really turn you on that much?" She chuckled knowing her taunting you would be driving you absolutely wild. " yes mommy god fuck you tasted so good" you'd whine causing your girlfriend to easily scoop you up and move you to her desk where she sat in her chair and encouraged you to sit on her lap.

That's when you felt it. Proudly standing to attention, bulbous head throbbing against your soaked cunt. "Now pretty pet of mine, you are gonna warm my cock up for me, I have to finish that work you prevented me from doing earlier. While your at it think about if you weren't such a needy whore for mommy, you'd be being fucked senseless right now" she teased before helping you sink onto her dick.

True to her word, Lesso made you cockwarm her as she slowly worked through the paperwork. Every time she shifted ever so slightly she'd hit deeper into your desperate slutty cunt causing you to whimper and whine down her ear. Her hand came to rub your back soothingly, you'd never had to do it this long before and she may be evil but she's not cruel. Offering you a small bit of comfort would just make destroying your pretty mind so much more fun later.

For what felt like an eternity, your girlfriend finished her work before moving you off her lap, the cock plopping out of you with an obscene plop. "Oh look pet, you've drenched my dick so why don't you get on those knees and put those pretty lips to good dove" she commanded and you complied willingly as quickly as your shaky body would allow. "Good little cock shut aren't you? Clean it sweetheart" she murmured a hand in your hair as she guided your lips onto her cock.

"Love your tight little mouth pet, god taking it so good, letting mommy fuck your face, truly a whore for me. Oh god" she moaned as you gaged and spluttered around her. The vibrations only aiding the woman's pleasure until she was sure if she didn't pull out she'd cum. And that was not where she wanted her first load to go. Like the true cock slut you are you whined when she pulled out. "Oh I know pet you love when mommy puts her load in your mouth, but mommy wants to breed your whorish cunt.

With that as you were distracted she stood you up and bent you over the desk, the cool wood seeming to aid the burning desire. "Oh fuck me mommy!" You whined when her hands ran up and down your back. "Are you sorry pet? Gonna be my good girl?" She quizzed loving how you instantly started a string of apologies and promises to never try that again. "There's a good girl for me" she murmured as she lined her dick up and sunk into your dripping hole.

"Oh fuck mommy Jesus" you whined walls stretching to accommodate her size. "Oh fuck sweets you feel so fucking good. So tight fuck" she moaned stilling balls deep inside your pussy. "Please please please" you whined when the slight sting transformed into pleasure, all you could think feel and smell was her. Leonora wasn't planning on showing you any mercy, with the way your pussy felt wrapped around her she was so unsure she'd last any longer than a few seconds buried deep to the halt inside you. "Such a good whore. Oh fuck can't wait to fill you up. Beautiful breeding bitch for mommy to use. Take it baby. Take my cock nice and deep inside you, wanna make sure you get pregnant" she mumbled as she began bottoming you out with every single thrust.

All the sounds of your wetness as skin slapped against skin filled the room, accompanied by the pornographic moans of you and your lover. "Leo!" You whined only to be met with a harsh smack to the globe of your ass, "not my name whore" growled at you. "Mommy mommy mommy fuck gonna cum please" you begged loving how her pace sped up. "Gonna fill you up so much dove, take everything mommy gives you, wanna see you all round with my babies. Oh fuck I love your slutty cunt squeezing my cock like that. Go on baby make mommy cum. Want you to cum baby" she moaned over and over as you came with a scream, Lesso following seconds after, your fluttering walls milking her dry as she dumped her load into you. "Such a pretty cum dump for mommy" she moaned into your ear causing you to shiver as you both worked yourself down from your highs slick with sweat. "Oh god mommy fuck me no more please" you panted in between laughs. You couldn't help the wince when she pulled out.

"You did so so good baby, such a good dove for me. Shall we go bathe ?" She murmured knowing you often liked baths after such an intense play time. "Mmm need help" you murmured pointing to your shaking legs, Lesso's legs weren't any better so she sat down, held you in her lap, "rest here dove, I'll be right here, such a good girl" she reassured watching as you gave into sleep. What a sick day that was you knew that you'd have to take more in the future.

Word count~ 1864

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lesso smutt #lady lesso x you #lesso x reader smut #leonora lesso x reader #anon request #anon requested

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