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smutstationchoochoo · 11 months

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Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room.

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?” His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment. It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up. Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

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may I request an angst with evan buckley

"keep your eyes on me." promt with an established relationship please! but hes been through a lot give him his happy ending please, i love him so much 🫶🏻

Lightning Strike.

28. "Keep your eyes on me."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. my soft sweet buck. thank you for this request <3

Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - sad buck. mentions of a sort of panic attack.

Word Count - 500 ish maybe??

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

Buck is the king of putting on a brave face.

Always strong, never faltering. He reassures everyone he's fine time and time again, smiling and cracking jokes. But you see right through him.

You've always been able to read him like a book. You don't even have to try.

After the lightning strike, Buck doubled down on his brave face. He wouldn't let anyone see him upset - not even Eddie. Which is rare. And worrying.

He seems to be coping surprisingly well, desperate to get back to work and resume normal routine. While he's stuck at home, he's been cooking, doing puzzles, watching football. You're greeted with a lovingly cooked meal and a glass of wine every time you walk through the door.

Until today.

Today, you walk into the apartment, and it's dark. No lights on, no TV blaring sound. Nothing.

"Buck?"

Silence.

"Buck? Baby? I'm home," you call.

Now you're worried.

You start striding through the apartment, navigating your way through the darkness. When you hear a sniffle, your head whips around. There's Buck, knees pressed to his chest, jammed in between the nightstand and the wall. He's curled up on the ground, head resting on his arms that are protectively wrapped around his legs.

"Buck? Hey, did something happen?"

"Yeah," he murmurs hoarsely. "I got hit by lightning."

"I remember," you say gently. "Did something happen today?"

"I don't know," he whispers. "I think I've been distracting myself. And today it all came crashing down."

"Talk to me," you urge.

Buck's lip trembles, and so do his hands. Warm, salty tears drip down his face, and his breathing quickens rapidly.

"Hey, hey. Keep your eyes on me, Buck."

He locks his gaze onto yours, and mirrors your breathing carefully. Eventually, he calms down enough to speak.

"I died. I've been so close to death so many times that I'm kinda numb to it. But this time was so real. How am I supposed to go on living my life like nothing happened, when I literally died?"

"You don't have to live like nothing happened, baby," you reassure, moving to sit down in front of him. "No one expects you to do that."

"I just -," he sighs, trying to formulate a coherent thought. "I just don't know how to carry on."

You reach out gently and place a hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears that are spilling over. Your thumb strokes his cheekbone carefully, grounding him back down to Earth.

"I know you're like, totally anti therapy -," you begin, and he laughs. "But talking to a therapist or a trauma counsellor might really help. Or maybe we find a support group. This is LA, there's groups for everything."

"You think there's a lightning strike support group?" he jokes.

"I honestly wouldn't be surprised," you chuckle. "And if there isn't? Well, we'll start one."

"I might be the only person who attends."

"Fine by me," you tease, nudging him lovingly.

You stand up, and offer him a hand. He takes it gratefully, getting up and instantly wrapping his arms around you. He inhales the scent of your vanilla shampoo, and the tension leaves his shoulders rapidly.

"I love you," he murmurs into your hair. "I'm so lucky."

"I'm the lucky one," you reassure. "Well, technically you are, since you got hit by lightning. And survived."

"I've always been one in a million," he chuckles, squeezing you a little tighter.

"Yes, you have. My one in a million, Evan Buckley."

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gumiluver · 7 months

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NO PREP? NAUGHTY GIRL. ~ JJK NSFW SCENARIOS | PART TWO

synopsis: you let him hit it with no prep ;)

(pls prep!! foreplay is super important!!)

cover pic credit: Aloneexe19 on pinterest

lovers <3: afab!reader, okkotsu yuta, inumaki toge, fushiguro megumi, itadori yuji, kamo choso

PART ONE <3 | EAT ME! ~ GOJO

byr/important: the content written in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact, all characters aged 21+

cw: pwp, dark content(-ish), nsfw 18+, manhandling (all lovers <3), overstimulation (yuta), squirting (toge), pet names (gumi <3), dacryphilia (yuta, gumi <3)

Yuta 🖤

Yuta really should’ve lied to you, but he couldn’t deny his intrigue to your question. To be fair, it’s only a fantasy! He would never expect you to take his cock in one thrust, he knows how dangerous that could be and would hate to see you in pain because of his greed.

But fuck, he can’t get the picture of your cute face contorting in pleasure and pain from trying to accommodate his girth. Gripping onto him for dear life as he sends you to oblivion.

And you, being the sweet little girlfriend that you are, tell him how hot you think his fantasy is. Knowing that he, the Yuta Okkotsu, is so pussy whipped by you that his deepest, darkest fantasy is taking you with no prep and watching you become a cock drunk slut for him made you feel on top of the world. You couldn’t help but strip yourself bare in front of him and prop your ass out for him to see.

“Are you sure you wanna do that? I could really hurt you,” he says, pushing your hips all the way down to the bed. You turn your face so that your right cheek is pressed against your plush pillow, glancing over your shoulder to gaze at your lover. His eyes conveying a darkness that makes your body shiver and your pussy clench aimlessly. He can feel his mouth start to water at the pretty sight of your plump ass and thighs on display, “if we do this, I don’t think I can stop…”

You giggle and shake your ass a bit, beckoning for him to have his way with you, to do as he pleases. Your left hand reaches over to grip the lower flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks to reveal your inviting pussy to him.

The growl that rung through your ears must have been the sound of some carnivorous beast behind you—maybe even a curse; there’s no way in hell that Yuta could sound like that. So guttural and deranged.

Your thoughts are swiftly knocked from your mind when you feel his burly hands grip the flesh of your hips as he pushes his throbbing tip against your entrance. He hovers himself above you, trailing his hand to your neck and applying subtle pressure to the sides, making you groan deeply and clench your thighs together. His chest is pressing against your back, placing some of his body weight onto you as a way to immobilize you. His lips caress the shell of your ear—inadvertently clouding your senses and judgement.

He was adamant about seeing your face when he bottomed out—wanting his fantasy to play out perfectly. He wants to see you scrunch your nose up, to see tears well in your eyes as you slowly take his dick inch by inch; and, when he’s fully in you, he wants to hear you beg for him to ease up, to tell him he’s too much for you to take.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans, shaking from the amount of pleasure he’s feeling just from jamming his tip into your tight cunt. He felt like he was suffocating, the vice of a grip your cunt had on his tip was just begging to be stretched out—molded to fit his cock and his alone.

But he knows to take his time with you, to go at your pace and ease you into his massive length. The hand that was holding your neck trailed lower to palm at your breast, massaging it gently as he eases more of his cock into you, “j-just a little more baby—yeaaa that’s it!! my good girl, fuckk…,” he praises, feeling your cunt flutter around his cock. His tip starts pulsating around your walls, making a slow, steady beat radiate throughout your core. Your body felt like it was on fire, but you’ve never felt more alive.

“Did so well baby, look at how good you take me in…ughhhn…feels good doesn’t it love, ahhh look at you—so fucked out fr’ me…” he’s rambling now, lost in the pleasurable haze that you and only you could bring him. He tries to still his hips as best as possible but can’t help the small bucks that shoot past his hips—taking control of the his motor functioning. He has to calm down quickly before he busts inside you too soon; he wants to savor this, savor the way your eyes crossed and tongue lulled out, making you drool while your eyes tear up from overstimulation.

Oh yes, he’s going to plaster this image in his memory forever.

Toge 🖤

A man of few words—he has to be anyway, so when you first suggest hopping onto his dick without his usual foreplay he shakes his head vehemently and crosses his arms in front of you. A defiant way of stating he won’t listen to this nonsense anymore.

But then he started thinking—thinking about how pretty it would look to see you struggle taking his dick. How you’d gasp and wiggle around, trying to take all his length without complaining. Especially if he uses his cursed technique on you, make you sit on it an—

He’s quick to shake those thoughts out of his head, even after you ask him a second and third time; he simply can’t bare to put you in any kind of position that would feed into his lust-driven madness. He doesn’t know how far his cursed speech would go in these types of scenarios—but you just kept asking, and asking, and asking…

“Relax,” he whispers gently in your ear, and it’s like the weight of the world falls off your shoulders. The bulbous tip of his cock finally squeezing past your tight entrance, eliciting a moan from the cursed speech user and a whimper from you. The sudden euphoria spreading throughout your body made you lightheaded—you could feel your pussy betray you from the way she flutters uncontrollably.

He’s pressing gentle kisses to your neck, rubbing his hands up and down your curvaceous sides to help ease you into taking his cock. You let a gentle hum of pleasure escape your lips as you spread a bit wider for him to slowly give an experimental thrust upwards—making you shudder in his arms from the shock of pleasure that jolts up your spine.

Toge has always been big—so big that you’ve both had to come up with specific positions that help ease you onto his massive length. But this experience? This was all new. His cursed speech, the way his cock was forcibly pushing your pussy open to make way for the base, the way your velvet walls squeeze like a vice around his girthy length.

It was all too much. You were starting to lose the pace of your breathing, opting to take short gasps of air as you fight to sink down on your lovers cock. The squirming of your hips inadvertently making you sway sensually—almost like you were putting on a little show for him.

He’s having to mentally restrain himself now, willing his hips to still as you try and get comfortable. He doesn’t wanna rush anything with you, he wants to take his time and watch you fall apart. But it was impossible with how much you’re wiggling around on his cock—he thought you were gonna snap his dick in half.

“Don’t move,” he growls, gripping your hips tightly, knuckles turning white as he tries to still you before he cums too soon. You feel your muscles tense as you freeze in place, giving Toge a couple minutes to compose himself. It’s almost unfair how tantalizingly warm and tight your pretty cunny felt, as if it were ushering him to rush the process and have him slam your hips down on his cock already. A simple command of “sink” would be all he needed to finally feel your pussy enclose around him.

But he would never do that to you; not yet, at least.

Especially with how you’re barely handling the pace now, which has been absolutely agonizing for him. Patience, however, has always been rewarded with an absolutely beautiful sight—a sight about to unfold before his very eyes.

“aah—aahhh!” you moan out, pleasure overtaking your senses and forcing a guttural moan out of the cursed speech users mouth. ‘So fuckin tight…’ he thinks to himself trying to catch his breath and regain his composure. But the way your cunt has a hold on him—he could barely think, let alone breath.

But Toge notices something different this time—the way the tip of his cock is being clenched while your velvety walls flutter and pulse around his shaft. He feels you start to get wetter and wetter and hears your moans louder and louder. ‘Is she gonna…?” he thinks, quickly taking advantage of the opportunity by gripping your hips tightly and shifting a bit lower on the bed. Your attention quickly diverting back to him from the sudden change in his demeanor. You gasp at his rough treatment, starting to feel your own slick coat his cock. He looks up at you, and grunts out:

“Breathe,”

And the gasp of air that you inhale balances out the harsh slam of his balls slapping your ass as he bottoms out completely in you. Your eyes widen, and you can’t stop the scream of pleasure and pain that escapes your lips as you feel him accurately strike your soft spot. Your head is thrown back, back arched sensually, supple tits in plain view for Toge to kiss and suck while you adjust to his intrusion.

Your peripheral vision starts to fade as you subconsciously squeeze his cock out of your cunt, squirting all over his well toned stomach and v-lines. He’s grinning wildly now, guided by a primal lust that makes him flip the both of you around and give you a breathtaking kiss that makes you almost lose consciousness.

Almost.

The only thing that brings you back to reality is Toge, giving you another full thrust of his cock, bottoming into you again, and again, and again…

Megumi 🖤

You can see the twitch in his left eye become visibly pronounced. He swears your probably heard about this silly shit from Nobara or Yuji and can’t help but worry about your ability to make sound judgements.

He tries to explain to you why it wouldn’t feel good, but he can barely manage to look at you. His face a dead giveaway for his perverted thoughts, a blush settling across his pale cheeks as he stumbles over his words. He’s loosing his train of thought, especially when you beg for him—so gentle and eager.

He honestly can’t help it, as much of a gentleman he is for you he can’t help but have those urges to use you as he saw fit. To know that you would be there for him to use at any given point in time—and the same goes for him as well, that you’d be allowed to use his body whenever the need arose. He trusts and loves you with his entire being that he’s willing to risk it all to give you all. A huge gamble for a humble man like him.

“Don’t need prep ‘gumi…jus wan’ you inside me, please,” you whine, absolutely driven by your nasty little thoughts of getting filled completely by his cock. He bites his lip and tries to settle you down by cupping your face in his palms, brushing a thumb against your plump cheek to soothe you. He’s gazing into you, stormy eyes darken with insatiable greed as he feels his cock twitch at your pleading gaze.

“Such a needy little bunny aren’t you?” He groans, eyes lowering to your plush lips as he takes in your angelic features. Your princess eyes looking up to him, filled with hope. How is he suppose to deny you when you look like that? His little bunny—so pure and sweet.

The complete opposite of his dark and animalistic nature. Since the moment he saw you he knew he had to have you, to claim you. While he would never disrespect you or project misogynistic bullshit like other men, you will forever remain his and only his. Every time he’s with you he’s invigorated with an energy completely foreign to him—a burning desire and ache that overtakes his reasoning and fixates on his impulses. He has to have you, he needs you.

A sudden jolt brings him back to you, and the sight before him has him seeing stars.

Under his lust-induced comma, you slyly maneuvere his thumb to glide into your mouth. You slowly run the tip of your tongue on the pad of his thumb, giving a gentle suck. To add insult to injury, you start to whimper around his thumb—as if he were purposefully neglecting you and causing you pain.

“Lay back, bunny,” he grunts out, gently pushing you back against the bed. Once settled, he strips himself of his clothes and assists you with yours. He takes in your glorious form and is certain that if god was a woman, it would be you, “you’re stunning, my goddess—my perfect fucking bunny,”

He caresses your thighs, gently ushering them open to grant him access to your perfect pussy. He groans loudly upon seeing your pretty clit quiver and sighs painfully, knowing he has to forego his usual time spent making out with your clit and cunt, ‘next time I’ll play with you…’ he thinks, swearing to himself that he’ll spend an extra 20 minutes next time he has his way with you.

“‘gumiii~” you whine, shifting your hips and shying away from his stare. You rarely see him get this way, almost as if he was unrestrained. You always wondered if Megumi held a part of him back from public view, holding in his deepest desires in favor of rationality. But right now, you didn’t want to see his rationality.

Oh no—you wanted to see his descent to madness.

He grins a wicked smile, hoisting your thighs around his waist higher as he dives in to shamelessly steal a kiss from you. Successfully omitting a gasp from your lips, he shoves his tongue into your mouth and groans at your submissiveness, “always so ready fr’ me,” he slurs between kisses, subconsciously lining his hips up against yours—like all the times he’s done before.

And while you’re distracted, he shoves the entirety of his length into you quickly—a loud cry escaping your lips that he’s quick to eat up at, “you can take it, bunny, doin’ so well,” he grunts out, trying to compose himself by using your lips again as a distraction. All he wants to do is fuck the soul out of you and paint your plush walls white with his seed. Wants to breed his precious bunny full of his cum.

You feel yourself suffocating from him, all of him. His cock, his lips, his words—it was like he was feeding off of it. Feeding into your entire being and consuming you as his, “such a fucked out bunny fr’ me…don’t worry your pretty little head; I’ll take care of you,”

Yuji 🖤

Poor lil loverboy Yuji didn’t really understand what he would be putting you through, especially when you looked so happy and excited to take his dick right here and now.

All he wants to do is please you, and despite his experience (or lack thereof) you make him feel like putty in your hands. He’s such a slut when it comes to you, he can’t help but associate you with pleasure, love, and nurture—so the second you bat your pretty little lashes up to him and give him a little pout, he’s done for.

It’s not like he had a choice at this point either, especially with how you’re pushing him down on the couch, manhandling him, and caging him in by straddling yourself on his lap.

“I’ll let you do anything you want if you keep touchin’ me like that baby, fuck~” Yuji whines out, gripping your hips desperately to have you keep grinding your clothed cunt against his own clothed length. You giggle at his needy attempts to speed up the pace, making you slow your hips down slightly while adding more pressure to irritate him a bit more. He groans loudly, his head falls back and his eyes are clenched shut. The muscles in his neck and shoulders becoming physically pronounced as he tries to control himself from ravaging you.

“Ugh come oooon baby, I can’t take it anymore,” he pants out, bucking his hips upwards in an attempt to get you to stop your teasing. You pout a bit, wanting to continue your ministrations on the man in front of you—but you knew that if you continued on, you’d sabotage your own desires.

After all, you’ve been desperate to feel him stretch you out. To push his thick cock inside your tight hole and feel that resistance that makes the both of you keen and cry out in pleasure. To bottom out with a complete thrust and feel his cock probe your waiting cervix.

You quickly remove your panties, which Yuji gladly helps with. He’s quick to snatch your panties from you too, sticking it in his dresser drawer—a souvenir to remember tonight’s rendezvous. You straddle him and line your cunt up to his leaking tip, already hard and shiny from his pre cum. Yuji’s quick to take the lead by sneaking a hand between the two of you to position his cock perfectly towards your entrance. Using his other hand, he guides your hips down, reveling at the sight of you slowly succumbing to him.

You bite your lip and furrow your brow at the sting of his girth stretching your tiny princess pussy. A soft cry slips out from you and you can feel your mind break. The thickness of Yuji’s cock was otherworldly, it’s sheer circumference enough to make any woman shutter from fear—so taking him raw without any prep was truly a challenge only few could handle.

And you were determined to make that happened.

“Such a good girl for me, the best,” he says, slipping the remaining few inches into your tight hole. Your head rolls as you part your lips and let out a silent scream, the intense pleasure overtaking your body leaves yourself pliable—manipulatable, even—and it makes Yuji go insane. He has to will himself to not throw you on your back and pound into your sweet lil cunny.

And it doesn’t make it any better that Sukuna’s in the back of his mind, egging him on, coaxing him to dominate you because that’s what you truly wanted, right?

‘Look at the way she’s drooling for ya, take advantage of her fucked out mind already brat,’ he hears in the depths of his mind, making him internally roll his eyes and huff outwardly to calm himself down. The sick thing about it all tho was how badly Sukuna’s words made Yuji’s cock throb inside you.

Your whimpers bring him back to attention, to which he coaxes you with pleasantries that make your knees weak. Your pain-stricken face makes his heart squeeze with guilt, wanting to quell your pain so you can finally reach that blissful peak.

“It’ll feel better soon baby, just relax fr’ me okay?” he says gently, holding your cheeks in his hands and kissing you lovingly. You coo at his gestures and ease up a bit, allowing his cock to finally fit snuggly within your walls, making him release a languid moan. His hips started circling slowly, providing you pleasurable stimulation that caressed your g-spot and rubbed your clit. A beautiful sigh escapes your lips, and the sight before him is heavenly—a renaissance painting come alive.

Your lips parted—flushed. Eyes closed with a cock drunk smile adorning your beautiful face. To say he was smitten would be an understatement. He was unequivocally enamored by you. Your fucked our face. Your beautiful body. Your little whines and whimpers. The way you cling onto him as if he was the only thing that you knew was real.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

Choso 🖤

Choso only wants what’s best for you, obviously. Most of his life has been surrounded with pain and suffering, so ensuring that your life was as far away from those experiences was his duty. He couldn’t quite comprehend why you would want to risk getting hurt in the process of taking his dick fast and raw—no prep at all.

It took some playing around to convince him, having to wear tighter and shorter clothing to rile him up. You knew that his patience was wearing thin, the constant high risk situations he’s forced to face, having to manage his siblings, dealing with clan responsibilities—all while a temptress lies in wait for him to use as he’d like, and yet he refuses to fall for it.

Except tonight. That new purple lingerie set that fit so snug on your body and highlighted the very essence of you in the most seductive ways had him dropping everything in his hands from pure adrenaline. He was a goner the minute he walked in his damn home.

“Squeezin’ me so tight love, can barely fuckin’ breathe aghh—fuckkkk,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pushes his cock in deeper. You’re gripping onto his biceps as he hoists your hips over his shoulders, folding you into a mean mating press. At this angle, he’s able to slip a few inches in, and all you can do is shiver and shake uncontrollably from the sheer force of it all.

You’re whimpering loudly, unabashedly telling him “you’re so big” and how “‘s so much” that it makes his balls tighten and tip pulsate. Your filthy words are starting to get to his head, making him feel lightheaded from his insatiable desire to bully his cock into you so deeply that it has you screaming. His chest emanating a deep growl as his core burns to the point of pain—god he was aching to fuck you already.

He groans out, no longer able to control his voice as he bites his lips and shoves his cock a bit deeper into your plush cunt, “thereeee we go, see how good you are? perfect little thing, such an angel…” he’s mumbling to himself now, feeling his girth push around your plush walls, leaving an imprint of his fat cock that will forever mark you as his.

Bottoming out, he lets a deep sigh of pleasure fall from his lips. You could visibly see the shutter that overtakes him when he hovers his body over yours, but what you couldn’t see was him having to physically and mentally grapple with himself from having to hold off on obliterating your precious pussy right then and there.

And you’re no better now, to be fair. Your eyes are crossed, stuck in a haze of bliss as you let his cock guide you into depths never experienced before. Your toes are curled, a squeal escapes your mouth despite your attempts of masking your moans. Your eyes are scrunched, brows furrowed, and lips parted in such a delicious way that Choso can’t help but dive in and kiss you—wanting to take in all of you while he has his way.

“Is this too much?” he asks, but he’s oblivious to the fact that everything about him is too much. The way he kisses you leaves you breathless, his large arms and biceps grasp you as if you were weightless, his pelvis and hips guide your smaller ones to a sinful dance that only he conducts.

It’s almost like he wants it to be too much for you. Wishing to see you lose all form of autonomy—having to rely on him to provide for you, to care for you.

To provide this pleasure, this feeling, this experience to you.

And you? All you can do is succumb to the beauty of it all. After all, that purple lingerie set of yours got you in this very predicament—might as well make use of it and enjoy the ride.

a/n: hope part two lived up to y’all’s expectations!! lmk what you think 🥰<3

Likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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adelheidvonschicksal · 3 days

Note

Can you do Zayne but we are jealous? 😭

Summary: You didn’t want to be one of those people. The type that gets jealous about someone you aren’t even dating, the type to get jealous because of a hostess of all people. But thinking about how often he must come here for her to feel comfortable calling him by name (even with the word doctor thrown in front) makes your chest tight along with the way that she looks at him like she can win him over.

And if this cake is as delicious as it looks, filled with fresh berry jam between layers of vanilla and a pretty ripe red strawberry resting on a swirled mound of white sweet cream, she might.

Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader

Content warnings: jealousy, fluff, reader is a little bit childish in this one

You didn’t want to be one of those people.

The type that gets jealous about someone you aren’t even dating, the type to get jealous because of a hostess of all people.

It’s sort of cliché, isn’t it?

The woman is just doing her job, isn’t she?

Hostesses are supposed to be polite and show courtesy to the customer. Providing exceptional and sometimes personal service is how you build a clientele, even a hunter like you knows how important optics can be.

Sometimes that might mean touching a shoulder.

Sometimes that might mean offering a suspiciously large piece of strawberry cake on the house to a customer’s table.

The overgenerous portion of cake is simply for the two of you to share. That’s all.

“I’ll give you time to look over the menu. Please let me know if you need anything,” the hostess says, and you think longer about the way her eyes linger on Zayne than you would like.

Zayne seems uncharacteristically fine with the treatment but you’re not. You aren’t happy about how the hostess—owner? — knows him by name. Thinking about how often he must come here for her to feel comfortable calling him by name (even with the word doctor thrown in front) makes your chest tight along with the way that she looks at him like she can win him over.

And if this cake is as delicious as it looks, filled with fresh berry jam between layers of vanilla and a pretty ripe red strawberry resting on a swirled mound of white sweet cream, she might.

“You knew exactly which table you wanted to sit at, huh,” you comment against your better judgment after the hostess graciously drops off your mini teapot before leaving to let you look over the menu.

“I like the spot by the window.”

“You must like it here a lot to have a nesting spot picked out already,” you say with an awkward laugh. You try so hard to make it sound like a joke, biting back the insecurity and irritation in your voice. Not trusting yourself to keep a straight face, you bring the porcelain teacup up to your mouth.

“This place is a convenient distance from the hospital the food is good, and the service is fast and above standard.” His face is completely unchanged as he stirs his tea, and it somehow makes you even more frustrated as he continues, “Not to mention their strawberry cake is the best one I’ve had so far.”

With a single finger, Zayne slides the plate off to you while the small dessert fork rests in his other hand for you to take. Placing your cup down, you quickly take the fork from him, stab it into the cake, and take a bite.

The dessert barely hits your tongue before your body works up a moan. It’s creamy, not too sweet, and absolutely delicious. It’s almost enough to make you forget about your jealousy as each bite leaves you hearing the harps of angels until Zayne explains that the hostess makes all the desserts in the teahouse.

You never had the sensation of wanting to spit out a dessert until now.

“Formed your review yet?”

Sucking the last orgasmic flavor from your tongue, you place the fork back on the plate and quickly push it back in his direction.

“It’s too sweet,” you lie, and such an obvious lie because you’d ask anyone who can bake like this to marry you if given the opportunity. Upset at the thought, you place your glare on the teacup in front of you, “and the tea tastes scorched.”

Finally, Zayne picks up on your negative attitude. More accurately, he finally decides to voice the fact that he’s noticed your mood dropping ever since you sat down.

“Aren’t you the one that begged me to take you here?”

“You can’t blame me for falling victim to the hype.”

“I take it I’m “the hype” in question?”

“Well, you did keep mentioning this place.” You shrug. “It’s not a big deal. We can’t get them right all the time.”

It’s the first time you’ve seen Zayne upset at you in a while, with his eyes narrowing in your direction. “If you’re in a bad mood then we should call it a day. I’ll take you home, you obviously could use the rest.”

Scowling, you clench your hands over your thighs. You really hate it when he talks like you’re one of his rowdy patients, or worse yet, a child who needs to be laid down for an afternoon nap.

“I’m perfectly fine. In fact, I got enough energy to walk home. I’ll catch up to you later,” you reply and snatch your bag up from the seat. You place however much you think you owe for the tea on the table and hope he doesn’t follow as you walk to the entrance, pausing briefly to roll your eyes at the basic “please come again” ringing behind you.

It’s a few days before you hear from Zayne again aside from the text late the evening of your fight asking if you made it home in one piece. At the time, you were too annoyed to reply; and now that the anger subsided, you were too embarrassed to respond to him.

You feel like an asshole for getting so snippy about it in the first place.

Zayne didn’t really do anything wrong; it’s not like he was yours in the first place, but you still let your jealousy get the better of you. Now the only thing you were angry with was yourself for becoming so short-tempered with him instead of being honest about your feelings. You hated feeling like this, but anger was nothing that beating up a few wanderers couldn’t cure.

So, you throw on your work gear and head out into the city on your normal route. It offers a nice distraction to your guilty mind as you patrol the streets of Linkon for fluctuations.

There’s nothing too concerning going on. You barely manage to find a small group of low-powered wanderers on the edge of town, perfect for beating up and clearing your head before you decide to head back home.

On the way back to the apartment complex, you can see Akso Hospital, the towering blue windows on each floor waving at you from afar. Your eyes instinctively rise to the cardiac division, and it makes you think of Zayne.

“Is he in office today? Maybe I should visit him?” You take a step in the direction of the hospital then stop yourself. “What if he doesn’t want to see me right now?”

Deciding there’s no time like the present, you fetch your phone out of your pocket and click on your message thread with Zayne. As you thought, he hasn’t sent anything since that day. It makes fear spark in your heart as you hover your thumbs over the keyboard.

You’re too nervous to think of what to send.

Frowning, you stare at the screen, muddling over how to start, erasing word after word until you see three animated gray-blue bubbles appear at the bottom of your screen.

Zayne is typing.

…Zayne is typing!

It causes your mind to race frantically. “Did he see me typing? Has he been watching me type this whole time?”

Both ideas make your stomach turn as you wait for his agonizingly slow text to appear.

Are you available? My last patient canceled today. Your route is nearby if I remember correctly.

There’s a sweat-inducing pause before the last message.

If you still trust my opinion on sweets, why don’t we stop by the dessert shop together? My treat.

Your eyes widen at the offer. Zayne simply wants to take you out to eat again. You reread over his messages, zoning in on the second to last. If you still trust my opinion on sweets, why don’t we stop by the dessert shop together?

The same sickly feeling as before begins to propagate through your chest. This time it’s because you feel bad that he might somehow think your behavior a couple of days ago was his fault. Frowning, you quickly start to draft a response to meet him at the hospital. When you get to the café, you’ll apologize and treat him instead.

Sliding your phone back in your pocket, you head fast in the direction of Akso Hospital.

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to already see Zayne waiting for you by the entrance. He already traded out his uniform for his casual attire, and you briefly think about how he looks as handsome as ever in that black turtleneck.

“I was right to guess you were in the area,” he says, which is about the most standard greeting you’ve ever gotten to your surprise.

“Good evening, Dr. Zayne.”

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, and you nod, following him out to his car and making your way to the shopping district.

You’re pleasantly, or is it more correct to say awkwardly, surprised that he doesn’t bring up the incident from a few days ago on your walk through the market. However, that doesn’t stop you from thinking about it. Sighing, you suppose you should say something if only to erase the unbearable silence between the two of you.

“What am I supposed to say?”

You force a smile to muster some confidence.

“How was work?”

“Fine.”

“Been keeping yourself busy over the last few days?” you ask, delicately trying to breach the subject and where you stand with him.

“Work is always as such,” he replies, weaving his way through the crowd; his large frame creates a path for you to follow behind him and to also hide your disappointment from him. It looks like you’re back to square one as you decide it’s best to be quiet for now.

Eventually, Zayne stops and motions you to follow him to one of the street vendors. You’re still a few streets short of the café as you find yourself waiting in line with him for the sachima stall.

It’s puzzling that he’s stopping to buy more sweets when you’re already on your way to the dessert shop. Sure, Zayne had a sweet tooth, but it wasn’t that extreme. At least you thought.

“Didn’t you want to stop by that cafe?” you ask him.

Zayne shakes his head.

“No.”

He casually slides his hands in his pockets, stepping up as the line quickly begins to dwindle down. Confused, you tilt your head at him, and you notice dark hazel eyes scanning your puzzled expression.

“From what I hear, the desserts are too sweet and the tea is mediocre.”

You begin to pout at him. So, he did invite you out today because of that, not to talk about what happened but to make fun of you.

Slowly, he leans closer to you to whisper into your ear with the same smug grin he always has when teasing you. “It also happens to make an extremely jealous person I know stare daggers at the staff.”

Embarrassment claws itself into your skin, warming it as he steps forward and begins to purchase from the vendor. He pays no mind to your silence, and you question why you ever feel jealous when all he does is make fun of you. How awful to tease a woman about such a thing!

Your head droops with embarrassment as you wait off to the side for him.

When he finally steps in front of you with confectionaries in hand, you begin, “I’m sorry, Zayne. I was rude to you even though I asked you to take me, and it was childish to storm off like that.”

Instead of agreeing with you or mocking you like you thought he would, he says, “There’s no need to apologize.”

Zayne holds out the paper container of sweets at you, motioning for you to take the box from him. However, when you reach for it, he pulls it away.

"However, I still haven't quite forgiven you for not replying to my message. At least mark it with an emoji if you're too angry to respond."

You frown, remembering that you never told him if you were okay when he asked.

"I promise," you agree remorsefully, and he finally hands the package to you.

“Anyway, the problem is resolved,” he continues. He reaches into the package in your hand, pulls out one of the sweets, and holds the confectionary to your mouth. “So, we shouldn't have a repeat incident.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, waiting for him to finish off his snack, which is easy when he’s big enough to shove the whole thing in his mouth and polish it off in a few bites. “Zayne?” you repeat when he still doesn’t answer, choosing to grab another piece.

This time he holds it to your mouth, and you take the hint to eat it. As always, sugar makes you feel better especially when Zayne hands it to you.

“I took it out of my rotation,” he answers, nearly making you choke on the syrupy treat. “I won’t be going there in the future, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Coughing, you beat on your chest to force down the chunk of sachima you inadvertently choked on at his confession.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m the one who’s at fault,” you plead with him, but it doesn't seem to faze him as he chews. “If you like it there, you should go!”

“Why would I want to go somewhere that makes you uncomfortable?” he asks, and your mind thinks it would be obvious. He should have the freedom to eat where he wants but the warmth spreading in your chest manages to find its way to your face that he’d consider that. “Besides, there are still plenty of other spots to choose from that I like.”

“But…you like the strawberry cake from there,” you mumble in an attempt to convince him that it’s fine. Your jealousy shouldn’t dictate where he is allowed to eat. “It’s the best one.”

“Then, you’ll simply have to make me a better one.”

Eyes softening, Zayne smiles at you, small, discreet, something anyone else could miss, but not you on the rare chances that you’re gifted the tender expression; and suddenly, you’re remembering exactly why you get jealous over him, even at hostesses, even when you know he’s the type to avoid things that hurt your feelings.

Flustered, you shake your head. “I don’t know the first thing about baking. There’s no way, I can—”

“I’m sure you’ll succeed. It shouldn’t be too difficult when it’s coming from you.”

You gape at his insistence because out of everything he’s said to you today, this is the one thing where he sounds like he’s serious. You shouldn’t feel so fluttery at the idea that he wants to eat something you’ve made. It’s cliché and you’re much better at shooting a gun than sifting flour—

—and—

“We need to hurry.”

Pulling on his sleeve, you begin to direct him through the crowd. Zayne raises his eyebrows at you but obediently allows you to lead him. “Where are we going?”

“I need to buy strawberries before the fruit stand closes,” you explain and put more strength into dragging the doctor. "Pick up the pace. Do you want that cake or not?"

You do your best to ignore the chuckle you hear from the man behind you.

#zayne x reader #zayne fluff #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lnd x reader #zayne love and deepspace

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weministertomonsters · 4 months

Text

Incubus

"Please? Please, please! I'm fucking starving," your incubus whines.

"Crybaby. I told you this was going to be a problem," you sigh, gripping the steering wheel of your rented car.

You had stopped at a gas station ten minutes ago and gotten yourself some food. With your belly full, you're prepared for the next three hours of your roadtrip. Not your incubus though, he's acting like he hasn't had anything in days.

Which might be true. It's been a confusing couple of weeks.

"What was I supposed to do? This is a six-hour road trip," he sighs. "And you said you'd let me."

"Dude, I was drunk and horny," you laugh sheepishly.

He petulantly jams his foot against the glove compartment and tugs his shoe off. The unnatural purple veins in his skin are starting to make an appearance as his glamour wavers.

"Ah, get your demon foot down! What if someone sees it?"

"When was the last time we passed another car on this god-forsaken road?" He pouts. "Besides, my glamour is slipping. I don't have enough energy to keep it up."

"Why don't you sleep the rest of the way? We'll be there soon enough," you reason.

"Fine," he grumbles, tipping his seat back so he can recline comfortably.

Despite all his huffing and whining, he ends up falling asleep. He has one hand draped over his face, sheilding his eyes from the sun. His glamour is in the halfway stage, revealing pointed ears and a body that's now a little too large for the car seat. He twitches in his sleep and moans.

"God no," you mumble in mock horror and stifle a giggle.

The sounds he makes in his sleep are worthy of a porn audio and you feel like you shouldn't be listening. Still, that kind of thing doesn't bother you as much as it did weeks go. You've come a long way. The ride is manageable for a while, until his wings suddenly unfurl like a rebellious umbrella and thwack you in the face. You're forced to pull over.

"Wake up, idiot. You almost made me crash the car." You grab his shoulder and jangle it.

He wakes up with an inhuman growl and grabs you. There isn't much space for either of you to move, so all he ends up doing is pulling you into his lap. Tears spring into your eyes when you hit your elbow on the car door.

"You did that on purpose!" You moan, rubbing the tender spot.

"You can't just touch me when I'm sleeping," he says in exasperation, peering at you with blackened eyes.

He's right. This isn't the first time you've tried to wake him up and he ended up freaking out. It's obvious something happened to him in the past to make him act that way, but he wouldn't let you pry.

"Sorry, I forgot," you admit. "You were moaning in your sleep."

"Was I?" His eyes twinkle. "Look at you, getting all flustered. Hey, don't look away."

To change the subject you say,

"Your glamour is gone."

"It appears so." He flares his wings out as wide as he can, wincing. "I miss flying."

"Soon you'll be able to fly again," you promise, your heart going out to him.

Even though summoning him was an accident, you could have done so much more to make the experience a little less weird for him. You treated him like a literal demon thanks to your religious upbringing. Only when you realized that holy water and crosses and exorcisms were no good did you start to treat him with a modicum of respect. And he endured all of it for you. You've gotten better with your hellish companion since then.

Someone takes the initiative to kiss, but you're not sure whether it was him or you. All you know is that the wall you've built has come crashing down, and all the secret desires you hid away come clamoring forward, demanding attention.

You can't get out of your clothes fast enough, growling in annoyance when you hit your elbow again. You should have rented a bigger car.

"Hold on," he says, ripping his face away.

His lips are swollen and bruised from the heavy makeout session and his pupils are ridiculously dilated, but he still looks aware and a little worried.

"An hour ago you were denying me. Why now..."

"Don't ruin the mood," you tell him, wiggling into the backseat. "I just realized all my little rules are pretty stupid, that's all."

He twists around to look at you in the back.

"You won't regret it later?"

"I will if you made me take all my clothes off only to say you don't want to do it anymore," you say, leaning back and opening your legs. "Come here."

His eyes light up. If he had a tail, it would be wagging. The last of his glamour sheds, and you stare at his ebony-colored horns in admiration. Just a few weeks ago the mere sight of them had you stammering the Lord's Prayer and dousing him with anointing oil in an effort to make him go away. Now you grab one of his horns and drag him closer. The small car means you are both in pretty uncomfortable positions, but you'll complain about your back later.

His licks a blazing trail down your stomach, the purr in his voice muffled as he presses his lips to your body, tracing the red lines where your too-tight jeans aggravated your skin.

"I love this."

"My muffin top?" You snicker.

"All of it. All of you. Goddess," he says reverently before he dips between your legs.

His long, slippery tongue is talented. As he stokes your pleasure higher and hotter, he drinks from the blaze of it. Once he has enough energy to use his glamour again, he glamours his claws away and slides two fingers into you, looking up at you with gleaming, burning eyes.

The way his wings arch makes you think of an eagle protecting its dinner. You dare to touch them, stroking the struts of bone and the delicate membrane stretched between them.

"You're so beautiful," you admit. "And I'm not just saying that because you're so good at this."

He looks amused with the compliment. Maybe he's remembering the time you called him a "vulgar hellion of hell" in a fit of religious indignation.

You jump at the sudden zing of pleasure when he nips your inner thigh.

"Focus on me," he demands. "Let your mind go blank for just a little while."

You nod frantically, clutching the sturdy leather of the car seat. Your hips follow the thrusting motion of his fingers, desperate for more. He gives you what you want. You come when he adds a third finger, the stretch, and the pleasure and the stimulation of your clit throwing you recklessly off a cliff. It feels like he takes some of your energy, crafts it into a gem of pure gold, and passes it back to you in a hard kiss. It's like you've died and gone to heaven.

It's only when he taps your stomach that you remember you have to breathe. You suck in great gasps of air, squinting at him. He wears your cum on his face, his lips glistening as they part into a pretty smile.

"What was that?" You finally ask.

"The best orgasm of your life," he grins. "Please tell me I've ruined you for other people."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," you scoff playfully as you tug your clothes back on.

You think he has though.

#exophilia #terato #monster x reader #monster lover #monster x human #monster fucker #monster smut #incubus

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mintmatcha · 5 months

Note

i am so horrifically into virgin tomura in the modern au like if you are able PLEASE elaborate on him more im obsessed

"Yo, newbie!" Your voice cuts through the heavy beat of his music. "Need a ride home?"

Tomura doesn't remove his headphones. He just unties his apron and jams it into the locker, slamming the door after. His skin itches with how you watch him, twirling your little lanyard with your shitty smile.

"No."

"Aw, come on. I'm not letting you walk home- it's freezing out there." You pat your thighs and whistle low, beckoning him closer. "Come here, boy! Come on, get in the car-"

It takes a second for him to realize what you're doing.

"I'm not a fucking dog."

Your smile grows even bigger. "Oh yeah? Then, quit acting like a bitch."

Thump. Tomura's chest pounds and he's not sure why. Just one, weird heartbeat, just enough to knock him off of his guard. The sound blasting in his ear ends, a gap of static just before the next one roars to life. Your eyes crinkle as you watch him and you both know that you're won.

He follows you to your car like the dog he is.

"Hold on, let me-" You scramble over the seats, feet kicking outside the car as you toss bits of trash and clothing into the back seat. Tomura pretends not to notice the thong you've tucked into the glove box-- but he'll be remembering that.

"This is a shitbox."

"At least I own a car, bitch," you say, tossing him your phone. He barely catches it; the cracked screen eats into the pads of his fingers. "Put your address in and lets go."

Against better judgement, he opens the passenger side door and slides it. The heater is roaring, ranking out as much lukewarm air as it's little engine can muster. The warmth loosens his tight joints and for a second he's grateful.

Then, the sticky, sweet scent of fruit hits him, lingering in the back of is nose and in his mouth. It's peachy, maybe even melon, with some sort of something on the back that has him sniffing the air even as he grimaces.

"What the fuck is that smell?"

"My perfume, you bitch," you laugh, jamming the car into drive. "I'm going to the club later and want to smell good.."

"You smell like fucking..." He knows this scent. Tomura furrows his brow, trying to come up with it. "White gummy bears."

"That's exactly what I was going for!" You slap the wheel excitedly. As the car rolls into the highway, lights strobing by, Tomura finds himself watching how it hits the planes of your face. "Smell like a snack and hope someone eats you later."

You're pretty. Nice, too. There's no doubt that someone isn't going to snatch you up and spread you open tonight, probably someone strong and tall and hot-

"Whore." He says it and hopes you don't hear the jealousy.

"Aw, okay, Mr. Grumpy. Maybe take a shower and you'll find your own fuck buddy for the night.

"Some of us are ugly."

"I think you're pretty cute."

He waits for the punchline, the jab, the tease, but it doesn't come. The compliment, as weak as it is, just sits there between you, waiting to be acknowledged. He breathes in through his nose and tastes the sweet air again.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me-- it's just the truth."

Just like the scent, that statement lingers, haunting him even as he leaves your car and goes inside his shit hole apartment. It smells like weed and burnt popcorn, but his mouth is still damn with the candy sweet thought of you.

"Yo, buddy, I'm going to the store for munchies." Spinner is there and already blazed, swaying side to side as he talks. "Want anything?"

Tomura usually says no, but today he surprises himself.

"Pack of gummy bears."

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alphajocklover · 15 days

Note

I'm 23 and have been obsessed with body-building for years. I'm nowhere near big though. I'd love to be blown up into an absolutely massive freak. I wanna struggle to fit through door ways, I want furniture to bend under me. I want most guys I hit on to think I'm too big.

Please can you blow me up and grow me into the biggest bodybuilder possible.

It’s finally time for another one of my personal transformations. It’s been a little bit since I helped turn that guy into a bodybuilder jock with a supernova charged battery, but last time was so much fun I knew I had to do it again when the chance came up. I guess the only real question is what transformation method is right for you. I could always use the supernova battery again, or one of the other transformation methods I mentioned in my first personal transformation, but if I’m being honest part of the fun last time was sharing all the ways I could transform people. So how about we take a look at some of my newer transformation methods.

Your first choice is a CD. It’s a special video made for me by a local football coach who has recently introduced the Jock Studies program to his school. I reached out in the hope of getting an interview with him, and just got this in return. Not even a proper response. It’s… kind of an obvious trap too. I mean, I ask a bunch of people who are famous for turning people into submissive jocks to give me an interview, and they send me an unmarked CD? I mean, you can’t report on this kind of stuff like I do without someone trying to transform you eventually. I was actually kind of honored that they considered me enough trouble to target me… but not enough to actually watch the video. You can have the CD if you want. I’m absolutely certain you’d turn into a massive jock. Although you’d also be incredibly submissive to the coaches who made this, which might not be your jam. Let’s look at the others before you decide at least.

Your next option is a bit complicated. It’s a time machine, recently stolen from a group named the SAD (society against douchebags) by the Douchebag Revolution. I did a favor for them recently so they gave me this. Said they could trust me to use it responsibly. Well, sort of. The way they said it included a lot more ‘bros’ and ‘fuck yeahs’ but that was basically the gist. Anyways, we could use it to change you by changing your past. A little manipulation of your life and you could end up a bodybuilder. The thing is that time travel is… risky. Ever heard of the butterfly effect? That’s why I try to avoid time travel as much as possible. Too much can go wrong. Let’s move onto something else, since this one is so… unpredictable.

How about this one? It’s water from a familiar little town called Maxford, the one that turns anyone who enters it into a straight, conservative jock or bimbo. Turns out drinking water that’s bottled inside the town has similar effects. Turns you into your Maxford self for 24 hours. You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to get this. Entering Maxford was an… interesting experience. Um, anyways, it might not be the best choice for you. It’s temporary, and it will turn you straight the entire time you’re a hunk. That can be fun to try, but I get the feeling you want something more permanent. Let’s look at something else

Finally is a specially made necklace, a gold chain with a miniature dumbbell pendant. It’s made by a jewelry store chain that might sound familiar to you if you’ve read some of my earlier stories: EB Jewelry. Normally these are pretty expensive, and you’d have to buy them directly from EB Jewelry, but there was a mistake with manufacturing and they ended up with a surplus of these things. I bought a ton of them and wouldn’t mind parting with one. Put it on and you’ll transform into a total bodybuilder jock. More than that, I can give you more than one. You can share them with your friends, make an entire group of bodybuilder jocks that barely fit through doors. Yeah, that one is definitely the best choice. Go ahead, try it on.

Fuck you look good. You seem quite a bit dimmer now, which is to be expected, but god you look like walking sex. Make sure to share those necklaces with your friends. Using more than one might have… side effects. Plus, the more huge jocks, the better.

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #personal tf

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years

Text

Big Brown Eyes - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You’re a single mom and when you drop your son off at Dustin’s while you go to work, you meet his new friend Eddie.

Note: So, this really just came about because I wanted cute interactions between both Eddie and Steve with a little boy. I might write more in this verse if people like this?

Warnings: single mom, reader x ex steve, stancy is together, mechanic!eddie, i think that’s it?

Words: 5.6k

[Part 2 | Big Brown Eyes masterlist]

“Hello, you’ve reached the Hendersons. Sorry we missed your call-.”

“Shit,” you mutter. You sigh and rub a hand over your face. You purse your lips in thought and tilt your head from side to side before picking up the phone again. Thankfully, this time there’s a response.

“Hello?”

“Max, hey! Do you know where the goonies are hanging out today? I’m trying to find Dustin,” you say.

“They’re all at his house. None of them would shut up about the campaign at school yesterday. Why? Everything okay?” Max asks.

“Yeah, fine. I just have to head to work and need someone to watch Ev. I know you have the evening shift at the diner tonight or I would’ve asked you.”

“Where’s Steve?” Max asks.

“Out of town for the day with the Wheelers. Holly had a dance recital somewhere near Indianapolis,” you tell her.

“Mike didn’t go,” she says with a snort. “He’s at Dustin’s with the rest of them.”

“What a loving brother,” you deadpan.

“One of the guys can watch Ev. I know for a fact Lucas has no plans tonight so don’t let him try to make any excuses.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say. “Alright, I’ll try the house again. Thanks, Max.”

“No problem.”

With a sigh, you hang up and pick up the receiver again, your finger jamming into the familiar numbers for Dustin’s house.

It rings. And rings. And rings.

“Hey! Hello?” An out of breath Dustin gasps on the other line.

“You all good there?” you ask.

“Oh, hey. Yeah. I’m fine. Was that you who called before? Sorry, it was the final roll of the dice,” he explains, as if that makes it evident why he wouldn’t answer the phone. You can hear the others shouting in the background. You can’t tell if it’s in happiness that they won the campaign, or anger because they failed.

“Uh huh,” you say. “Listen, one of the girls at work called in sick and I said I’d come help out. Could you or one of the boys watch Everett for me, pretty please? It’ll just be for a few hours.”

“Sure, bring him on by. We all know I’m his favorite.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes fondly. There’s no way to deny it, Everett always lights up when he sees his Uncle Dusty Buns.

“Okay, we’ll be there in ten. Thanks, Dustin,” you say.

“Don’t thank me until you get him back in one piece. Bye.”

You chuckle to yourself as you hang up the phone. A squeak sounds behind you and you smirk to yourself at the familiar sound of Everett’s little sneakers hitting the linoleum tile of the kitchen floor. Slowly spinning around on your heel, you catch a pair of big brown eyes staring at you from around the corner. Out of the many things Everett had inherited from Steve, his eyes were what people noticed first. They were nearly identical to his father’s. His hair was also growing similarly, but Everett was still too young to tell if it would be quite as high as Steve’s.

“Is someone spying on me?” you ask.

“Nooooo,” you hear as his tiny head hides back around the corner. His giggling would be enough to give him away even if it weren’t for the scuffling of his feet against the floor.

“I think someone is. I think I was being watched,” you say. You creep around the corner and snatch him up in your arms. The muscles in your arms and back protest at how big and heavy he’s getting.

“By who?” Everett asks innocently. Those damn doe eyes look up at you under thick lashes. It was truly uncanny.

“You, mister!” You dig your fingers into his side, knowing his left is the most ticklish. He squeals and struggles in your grip, trying to break free.

“Mommy, no!” he calls between bouts of laughter.

“Everett, yes!” you answer before peppering kisses all over his face.

He pulls away from your kisses and the two of you look at each other, similar smiles reflecting each other. At least that’s something he got from you. He reaches up to move some hair that’s fallen into your face. It’s more of a smack than a gentle motion, but you know the intention was sweet.

“You’re silly,” he says fondly.

“Oh yeah? Well guess where silly mommy is taking you, Mr. Troublemaker?” you say.

“Toys?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. As if this kid wasn’t spoiled enough by his parents, aunts, uncles, and everyone else who knows him. His obsession with the toy store has stuck with him ever since Karen Wheeler took him there for his third birthday a few months back. You were thankful she watched him as often as she did, and that she spoiled him like her own grandchild, but this obsession was wearing on both your nerves and bank account.

“No,” you say. “Don’t you think you have enough toys? Never mind, don’t answer that, you. Nope, I’m taking you to Uncle Dusty Bun’s.”

Everett’s eyes lit up and he began to bounce in your arms. “Dusty! Dusty!”

More often than not, he called Dustin “Uncle Dusty Bun” in full, but he often reverted to “Dusty” when he was excited or angry. Dustin was never referred to by his actual name by you or Steve when Everett was born, both of you thinking it would be hilarious to give him the nickname instead. Dustin was less than thrilled at first, but the nickname didn’t seem so bad once you asked him to be Everett’s God father as well.

“Yep, come on.” You set Everett down so he can get his little backpack from his room. Whenever Everett went to somebody’s house he packed his favorite toy dinosaur, one of his coloring books, and a handful of crayons with him in his bag.

He runs off, most likely giving the family that lived in the apartment underneath yours a ceiling rattling boom, and you step into the bathroom. Working at the library meant that you didn’t have a uniform you needed to wear. As long as your clothes looked somewhat professional, your hair was neat, and your makeup wasn’t wild, you were good to go. You fix the hair that Everett had swatted and neaten up the rest of it.

Everett jumps into the doorway of the bathroom, blue backpack on and ready to go. “Let’s gooooo!”

“Can’t wait to get away from your mom, huh?” you tease him. You ruffle his dark hair as you pass him, grabbing your purse and keys from the kitchen counter. His loud footsteps echo behind you as you walk to the front door.

“Daddy home?” Everett asks as you’re locking the door behind you.

“Hmm?” you look to Everett who is gazing across the parking lot at the adjoining apartment building where Steve lives. “Oh, no, Daddy isn’t home right now. But he’ll be back by dinner time.”

“Will he make me take a bath?” Everett wrinkles his nose up in distaste as he slips his hand into yours.

“If he doesn’t, I will,” you tell him. You lead him down the stairs to the first floor, Everett jumping with two feet down each step. He hums a song to himself as you walk to the car. Though he hates sitting in it, Everett has become adept at securing his own car seat, which has saved you countless minutes over the past few weeks. “All buckled in?”

He nods to you in your rear-view mirror, and you pull out of the parking lot. It’s not a long ride to Dustin’s but Everett insists on the radio anyway. You weren’t sure when he developed such a love of music, but you’re pretty sure he recognizes more songs on the radio than you do. Love Shack comes on and Everett begins to wiggle in his seat, dancing along to the beat. You were glad the meaning of the song went over his head, and he just enjoys the silly sounds the song makes.

Everett knows the way to Dustin’s and gets more excited the closer you get to his house. He begins to look out the window, straining his neck as if that will help him see his favorite uncle sooner. As you pull up to the Henderson house, you notice a number of cars parked out front. So, the guys were still here.

“Looks like you’re seeing more than just Uncle Dusty Bun,” you tell him as you swing your car into the driveway. You would only be here five minutes; it doesn’t matter if you’re blocking anyone in.

“Who?” Everett asks.

“Let’s go see,” you say, pulling the key out of the ignition.

While your son has no issues getting into his car seat, he hasn’t gotten the hang of unbuckling it yet. He’s grateful when you free him from the confines, hopping out of the car with his little backpack, and running up to the front door. Even on his tiptoes he can’t quite reach the doorbell, so he settles on banging on the door with his little fists instead.

“Easy, Ev,” you say as you come up next to him. You go to press the doorbell but the front door swings open before you get the chance.

“Hey, I thought I heard the little monster out here!” Dustin grins and bends down, letting Everett run into his arms. “How you doing, kiddo?”

“Good!” Everett says as he wraps his arms around Dustin’s neck. “Got my dino.”

“Well, of course you do!” Dustin says. He lets go of the boy, who rushes past him into the living room. The loud hum of boys talking reaches you at the door and you nod your head inside.

“Whole crew here?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Dustin replies. “Oh, wait! Come here, you haven’t met everyone who’s here.”

Dustin closes the door behind you as you step inside. Your brow furrows in confusion as you slip your hands into your back pockets. The house smells like microwaved pizza and like one of the boys is wearing cheap cologne. It’s dark in the house, which makes you roll your eyes, because the boys always insist the room must be dark when playing DND.

“What do you mean? Not just Lucas, Mike, and Will?” you ask.

“We made a new friend,” Dustin says.

“A nerdy friend, I’m guessing,” you mumble under your breath as you follow Dustin into the living room. You can hear Everett babbling to someone, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. Besides you and Steve, his favorite people in the world are in this room.

“My sister!” Will cries as he throws his arm over your shoulders. You chuckle to yourself, forgetting when the joke that you were Will’s older sister even started. He’d always been like a little brother to you, so it came naturally enough. You turn your head to look at him and frown when you have to tilt your head up.

“Why are you still growing? You’re already taller than me,” you say.

“Have been for a few years now,” he says with a wink, and you playfully push him off you.

You expect to find Everett either clinging to Mike’s legs or being held in Lucas’s arms, but the two are arguing with each other on the opposite side of the room with no toddler in sight. Everett is never quiet, however, so you just have to turn yourself in the direction of his voice.

“M’not afraid of spiders!” he’s saying. “Spider-man is my favorite!”

Everett is leaning against a fluffy maroon couch cushion, his backpack at his feet, and his eyes focused on the boy sitting next to him. But he is not a boy. He’s a man, your age or maybe a year older. He’s grinning down at your son, the smile knocking the breath from you. You don’t think you’ve ever once swooned in your life, but that’s the best word you think of to describe the feeling. Dark curls fell just past his shoulders and his dark eyes – why did dark eyes haunt you everywhere? – crinkled in the corners as he listened to Everett.

“Yeah? I like spiders, too,” the man says. He adjusts his hand on his lap and the glinting of one of his rings catches Everett’s attention.

“S’pretty,” Everett says. He takes the man’s hand in his own little ones and inspects the different rings he’s wearing. You’re shocked. Everett is usually shy with new people. He’ll barely say hello to a stranger, let alone hold someone’s hand.

“Thank you,” he tells your son. He’s smiling so adoringly at Everett that it quickens your heartbeat even further.

“Eddie,” Dustin calls from behind you. The man picks his head up and looks at Dustin, before turning his gaze on you. He smiles again and you feel pinned in place.

“You must be this wonderful little boy’s mother,” he says. Everett lets go of his hand and walks over to you, hugging one of your legs. Eddie stands up from the couch and steps right in front of you, offering you his hand. “I’m Eddie.”

“Eddie,” Everett repeats down by your legs, causing Eddie to chuckle.

“Y/N,” you tell Eddie. You slip your hand in his and notice the roughness of callouses and the coolness of the rings as he shakes it.

“Eddie works down at the garage,” Dustin says, coming up alongside you. “He noticed the DND bumper sticker on my car when I brought it in the other day. Needless to say, we became fast friends. This was his first campaign with us.”

“You have far more patience than I do,” you tell Eddie. “When I try to play with them, they just yell at me.”

“Well, he actually knows what he’s doing,” Mike quips with a smirk as he walks by you.

“When’s that English paper due, Michael? You know, the one on Pride and Prejudice, which you haven’t even read? Didn’t you want me to help you with that?”

“I take it back!” Mike calls from the kitchen. “I love you!”

You smile to yourself and look back to Eddie, who’s smiling at you the same way he smiled at Everett. It should feel patronizing, to be smiled at the same way that a baby was, but it’s flattering. It’s an adoring smile which floods heat to your cheeks.

“I was going to ask how you put up with these guys, but I see you can handle them no problem,” Eddie says.

“Well, when you work at the library and they come there to study and beg you for help, you tend to have the upper hand,” you say with a shrug.

Eddie chuckles. He pats Dustin on the arm. “I’m heading out. Next Saturday, right?”

“Yeah! Look forward to you being the DM. Mike’s been doing it forever,” Dustin says.

“Heard that!” Mike calls.

Eddie crouches down to be on eyelevel with Everett. “It was nice to meet you, little dude. Can I get a high five?” Everett grins and slaps his hand against Eddie’s. It hardly could have hurt but Eddie shakes his hand out as if stung. “Wow! You’re a strong boy. You must eat all your vegetables.”

Everett looks up at you and grins, proud.

“That he does,” you say, petting along his hair. You crouch down as Eddie stands back up. “You’re going to be good for Uncle Dusty Bun, right?” Out of your peripheral vision you can see the smirk Eddie gives Dustin at the nickname.

“Mhmm,” Everett nods.

“Okay, good. I love you,” you press a kiss to his cheek and pull him into your arms.

He squeezes you back tightly and mumbles a “love you too” against your neck. You stand up and Everett takes Dustin’s hand, already dragging him back to the couch.

“Walk you out?” Eddie asks. He motions for you to head out first, so you do. You open the front door, and he steps out behind you. “He’s a cute kid.”

“Thanks,” you say. The two of you walk to the driveway together and Eddie leans against the van that your car is parked behind.

“But it makes sense, though,” Eddie says. “With a beautiful mom and all.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out from your chest and you look at the ground shyly. You feel the heat go all the way up to the tips of your ears. You’re about to respond by saying he looks more like his dad than he does you, but that might sound like you’re trying to interject Everett’s dad into the conversation as if the two of you are still together.

“Well, thanks,” you say again. You were never particularly good at flirting or being flirted with. Steve often used this to his advantage by flustering you on purpose and the look on Eddie’s face says he might be the kind of guy to do the same thing. “I guess I’m blocking you in. I should get going.”

“Do you often come by here on Saturdays?” Eddie asks as you start to turn away from him. You turn back and give him a smile.

“I’m not here for their DND days. Like I said, I get yelled at. But sometimes Dustin will watch him on Saturdays when I’ve got to head to work. Like today.”

“Libraries are open on the weekends?” Eddie asks.

“Saturday until three, Sunday closed,” you tell him with a shrug. “So, I only have to be there for a little while today.”

“You know, you don’t look like a librarian,” Eddie tells you with a smirk. He crosses his arms over his chest, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Well, I’m not a librarian. I just work there. But out of curiosity, what do librarians look like?” You know you need to leave for work, but you walk over and lean next to Eddie against the van.

He shrugs, his leather jacket creaking with the movement. “You know. Usually old. Hair pulled up in a tight bun on the top of their head. Glasses hanging from a chain around their neck. Old lady sweaters and a permanent scowl on their face.”

You laugh and rest your head back against the van. “You just described my boss pretty well, so you may have a point.” With a sigh, you push yourself off the van. You didn’t want to head to work before, but now you really wish you didn’t have to go. “Um,” you say. You didn’t intend to say anything, but your mouth opened anyway. A lightbulb goes off in your head and you look at Eddie. “Dustin said you work at the garage, right?”

“Sure do.” Eddie nods in confirmation. “The one on Blossom Trail off Highway Eight. Or is it eighteen? I’m new to Hawkins.”

“Oh yeah? Where from?” you ask.

“Over near Evansville. My uncle lives out here, so I thought I’d see what Hawkins is all about,” he says.

“And are you sorely disappointed so far?” you ask with a laugh, gesturing to the quiet, empty street around you.

“Definitely not.” He grins at you again and the butterflies feel as if they may actually bust out of you this time. Eddie watches you get flustered again and you lick over your lips, remembering your initial question for him.

“So, what days do you work this week? I need to bring my car in for an oil change. The light keeps flashing and one of these days the car’s just gonna stop on me altogether.”

“For an oil change?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at you, then shakes his head. “Sweetheart, don’t bring your car in for that. I can do that for free. Save your money.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say. Handouts were one thing you consistently tried to avoid since you’d found out you were pregnant. You hated feeling like people felt sorry for you when they didn’t need to. Was being a young mom hard? Yeah, but worth it.

“No, come on,” Eddie says. “They’ll charge you fees and taxes and for the labor when I’ve got the oil sitting right in my shed at home. Really, it’s just sitting there. It’ll go bad if it isn’t used.”

You had no idea if that was actually true or not, but Eddie was gambling that you didn’t have the knowledge to call his bluff one way or the other. Eddie’s pleading eyes are what push you over the edge. It seems impossible that here was another man with beautiful brown eyes who knew how to use them against you.

“Okay,” you finally cave. “Sure. I can bring it by your place.”

“Don’t be silly, I can swing by after work one day. You’re a mom, I’m not going to make you come to me and take time away from your kid.”

The thoughtfulness makes you smile. You motion for Eddie to follow you over to your car. He watches as you bend over into the car – his eyes taking their time – to grab your purse. After rifling through it, you pull out a pen.

“I don’t think I have any paper,” you say. Eddie grins and offers you his hand. You chuckle and take his hand in one of yours. There’s the slightest bit of grease stains under his short nails and his fingers are long, his palm large. You scribble your number onto his palm and stick the pen back in your purse. “I usually get home from work about six-thirty on weekdays and Ev goes to bed around eight.”

“I get home around seven, so that’s perfect timing. I’ll call you soon,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Monday if you want,” he says. “Or tomorrow. Hell, I’d call you tonight.”

The bashful grin on your face only makes Eddie want to flirt with and tease you more. It’s addictive in a way he didn’t know possible.

“I’m not sure what my plans are for tomorrow, so Monday works.”

“Monday it is,” Eddie confirms. “Have fun at work.”

“Bye.” You give him a small wave before getting in your car.

Steve had called you at work to say he was picking up Everett from Dustin’s and they’d be home for dinner. So, when you got home you had a precious hour that could have been spent relaxing, but one look around the apartment and you knew it needed to be used for cleaning. Action figures littered the living room carpet, colored pencils scattered about the coffee table, blocks with numbers and letters on them led down the hallway practically waiting for someone to step on them. It had been a while since you had last vacuumed so you figured you might as well get it over with.

It's in the middle of vacuuming Everett’s room that the front door opened and three people entered. Steve puts his finger to his lips to encourage Everett to be quiet as they creep down the hallway towards you. Nancy reaches out and smacks Steve on the back, telling him not to scare you. He shrugs and pretends that he can’t hear her over the vacuum as he follows Everett towards his room.

Normally, it was hard to sneak up on you. Steve had made it his mission to try and scare you way back before you even started dating. He, evidently, passed this trait along to his son as well. Even the vacuum wasn’t enough to keep you from hearing someone coming up behind you. But your mind was wandering as you pushed and pulled the appliance over the blue carpet. Was Eddie just a flirt in general? Or did he like you? Would he actually call on Monday? Was it a big deal if he didn’t? It was just an oil change, after all.

“Rawr!” Little hands grip your thigh, making you jump and let out a squeal. You cut the power to the vacuum and hear Everett giggling madly to himself and he holds your leg even tighter. “Scared you!” There’s laughter coming from the doorway as well and you turn to find Steve leaning against the doorframe, his arms casually across his chest, as if he had nothing to do with this sneak attack.

“What the f-,” you stutter, “fudge, Steve?”

“How did he get away with that when I never could?” Steve asks, referring to the successful scaring.

“Where’s your babysitter?” you snap back at him.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy says, popping in the doorway behind Steve. “I tried to stop him but I think Everett is more mature.”

You smile at Nancy as you scoop Everett up into your arms. “I don’t blame you one bit, Nancy. You’re the only one around here who doesn’t drive me crazy.”

“Hey!” Steve and Everett say at the same time.

“You,” you say, looking at Everett. “It’s dinner time. What would you like?”

“Daddy wants pizza,” he says.

All eyes turn to Steve as he shrugs innocently. “I have no idea how he knows that.”

“You’re paying.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. You set Everett down to follow his father into the kitchen to call for pizza.

Nancy walks into the room and wraps her arm around your shoulders. “You know he’s never going to let it go that he finally scared you?”

“I know.” You sigh and rest your head against hers.

Nancy was always a friend in high school, but never a close one. After Steve and Nancy broke up and Nancy moved on with Jonathan, Steve eventually found you. Becoming friends to more was easy with Steve, but it came with a catch. It was easy to go on fun dates and spend hours talking with Steve. It was easy to drive the younger teens around Hawkins with him, becoming the “mom” to his “dad” in the group – little did you know that those official titles were soon to come. It was easy to trust Steve because you already had as a friend. It was easy to fall into bed with him because you had always found him attractive and kind. What was hard, though, for both of you, was to fall in love. Being together for almost a year, most people assumed you two were madly in love. You definitely loved each other, but both of you knew deep inside it wasn’t the kind of love you should feel for someone you’re in a relationship with.

It was hard, deciding that the two of you should go back to being friends. You were in agreement that it wasn’t fair to one another to stay in a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere. Two weeks after the breakup, in which you two still remained the best of friends, you discovered you were pregnant. Telling Steve was one of the most terrifying moments of your life, though you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t let you do this alone. What you didn’t expect was how helpful Steve’s mom would be. Not only was she supportive of you and Steve deciding to raise the baby as friends, but she used her connections as the most well-known real estate agent in Hawkins to get you and Steve apartments in the same complex.

Nancy had been away at college while you were pregnant, hearing about the news from her brother who was stunned at there being someone who would be referring to him as “Uncle Mike.” When Nancy came home for summer break, she was elated to meet baby Everett. You were still pretty sure Nancy seeing how gentle and sweet Steve was with the newborn is what led them to getting back together – even battling long distance.

Steve was a little worried this might put tension between the two of you girls, but it was the opposite. Nancy became your closest friend, talking to you on the phone almost as much as she talked to Steve. She loved and cared about Everett but never tried to insert herself as a mother figure in his life. Everett loved playing with Nancy, especially when he saw how well she shot a water gun at his dad. Nancy was now home for the summer, having one more year to go at Emerson. Everett had been a little shy around her when she first came home, having not seen her since Spring Break, but he quickly warmed up and showed her every new toy he had gotten since she’d last seen him.

Everett was thrilled that Nancy was staying just in the next building with his dad. It meant they could go outside and play with his water guns anytime he wanted to. It was sweet to see Steve and Nancy with Everett, but it always left a melancholy taste in your mouth. It just reminded you that Nancy was the only person Steve had ever been in love with, and you had never been in love ever.

“You good?” Nancy asks you, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say. She pulls back and gives you a quizzical look. “What?”

“What is that smile on your face?” she asks. You didn’t even realize you had been smiling and immediately wipe it off your face.

“What, I can’t smile?” But you could feel your cheeks turning pink.

“Not like that,” Nancy says. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, though it sounds unconvincing to both of you. Nancy watches as you unplug the vacuum and wind up the cord. You walk past her to put the vacuum back in the hall closet and she follows behind.

“Something happen at work?” she asks with a smirk. Nancy was never nosey, but she could tell something was going on and she knew she could get you to spill.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” You turn to her and shrug, not quite meeting her eyes.

She smiles at you and reaches out to poke you in the ribs. “Oh, come on. You know you want to tell me.”

Glancing down the hallway to make sure the guys were still in the kitchen, you lean in towards Nancy and speak quietly. “Has Mike mentioned a new friend at their DND games?”

Nancy pulls back with a frown, that being far from what she thought would come out of your mouth. “Um, no. But to be fair, Mike doesn’t tell me a whole lot about his life. Why?”

You avoid her eyes as you lean back against the wall, head barely avoiding the framed pictures that hung there. “Well,” you start. “The guys have a new friend who plays DND with them.”

“Like a kid?” Nancy asks.

“Nope.” You shake your head, keeping your eyes on the kitchen doorway down the hall. “Like a guy. About our age.”

“Oh,” Nancy hums in understanding. “And you met him when you dropped by Dustin’s, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you confirm, still not looking at her. Nancy scoffs and grabs your arm, dragging you into your bedroom. She closes the door and rests her back against it.

“Spill,” she says.

You sit down on your bed and can’t help the smile that creeps on your face. “His name is Eddie. He’s going to come by this week and change the oil in my car.”

“Oh, is he now?” Nancy’s eyebrows raise and your face blooms red at the smirk on her face.

“Actual oil in my actual car!” You huff a laugh and rub your hands over your face. “He’s a mechanic. Dustin met him at the garage.”

“Is he cute?” Nancy moves from her spot against the door and sits down next to you on the bed. You bunch the yellow floral blanket in your fingers as you bite back an even bigger grin.

“Very,” you confirm. It feels nice to have a friend to talk about these things with. Yeah, there were girls in high school with you that you talked about boys with, but you were in a very different spot in your life than they were now. And Nancy was here and knew your life well. She’d become the best friend you’d ever had.

“When’s he coming by?”

“I gave him my number and he said he’d call Monday,” you say. You were about to tell her more about the conversation you’d had with Eddie but pounding started raining down on your bedroom door.

“Moooooooommy!”

“What’s up, buttercup?” you call through the door.

“Lemme in!”

“Excuse me?” you ask.

A tiny huff. “Can I come in pleeeease?”

You stand and open the door to find a little boy with a big smile staring up at you.

“Yes, sir?”

“Pizza’s coming!”

“Good. Know what you can do while we wait for it?” you ask.

“What?” he asks.

“Tell your daddy he needs to give you a bath.”

“Huh?” Steve asks, coming up behind Everett. He’s holding an apple with a bite missing and you remember why your son is constantly asking for snacks before dinner. “What do I have to do?” he asks through a mouthful of apple.

“Bath,” Everett says with a sigh.

“What?” Steve says as he looks down at Everett. “Why’d you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

“Boring,” Everett says.

“Nothing’s boring with me, you know that,” Steve tells him. He leans down and throws Everett over his shoulder. The little boy giggles and kicks his legs as Steve carries him to the bathroom.

“Please keep my bathroom dry!” you shout down the hall.

“No promises!” Steve answers.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #bbe

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oneshotnewbie · 7 months

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Could you write a one shot where there is a really bad storm hitting Seattle. Maya and Carina are stuck at the hospital and the fire station, and are trying but unsuccessful at reaching Reader. So they are both worried out of their minds. Then Maya has to go out on a call and find it was R who wrecked their car trying to get home before the storm hit. (Could be severe or non-severe injuries) R goes to the hospital with Maya in the aid car and Carina joins them in the ER.

Authors note: I heard the song "What the water gave me - Florence + The Machine" while writing this story. I would advise you to listen to the song as well while reading through this story to get the feel of a real Station 19 rescue mission like in the series. Of course it's not a must! ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sky over Seattle steadily darkened as pitch-black thunderclouds rolled in like a tidal wave. The wind began to howl as if playing its own somber tune, rushing restlessly through the skyscrapers of the city. Streets were quickly emptied as people rushed home for shelter. The trees bent under the force of the storm as if begging for mercy, but the storm was relentless. It thundered as if Zeus himself wanted to keep the crowds in their place while the rain fell in thick, large drops and threatened to drown Seattle. The sound of the wind, the falling of the rain and the thunder symphoned in a unique melody and conveyed a frightening atmosphere.

The telephones of the active fire brigade beeped in unison, a warning of the approaching storm that came in way too late. The tough captain of the fire department swallowed hard as she could not reach you, who worked just a few minutes away from her. But you did not answer, the connection was already disrupted, appearing to be off. "She wanted to be here fifteen minutes ago, Carina," both her and the brunette's worries grew with every minute through the phone as they imagined the worst possible scenarios without having any sign of life from you.

"Calm down, Bambina. There is probably total chaos on the streets. Fallen trees, flooding. Maybe she is just stuck in a traffic jam or an emergency came in."

The fire station was flooded with red alarm lights, while the walls shook from violent gusts of wind, preventing the young blonde from speaking further. Raindrops pelted against the roller shutter door, which opened more with every second, allowing the lightning strikes to break through their vision. -Fire engines 19 and 23. Ambulance 19 to Cedar Road Lane 6. Car struck by tree, person seriously injured and trapped.-

The firefighters rushed around, donning their suits and gear before grabbing their helmets. Like-minded, they rushed to the waiting vehicles, only Maya stopped briefly. „Please let me know if you hear anything from her. Stai attenta, bambina!" (Be careful, bambina!). She nodded, knowing that Carina could not see the gesture and hung up before hopping into the squad cars and starting the sirens. Pressing the accelerator, they raced through the whirlwind around them, trying to avoid the tree branches as much as possible.

Lightning flashed across the dangerous-looking sky, and thunder rolled at the same time like an angry demon. Maya clung to the steering wheel as she tried to keep her eyes on the wet, blurry road. They made their way through the flooded streets, branches flying through the air and trash cans tipping over and spilling across the sidewalk.

It was as if the world around her was collapsing in a chaotic dance of wind and water. "Listen guys, I know you want to help the person in the car, but first and foremost, think about your health and your life," the storm roared so loudly that it seemed like it wanted to tear the entire city apart and hardly anyone understood what the captain was saying over the radio. "This is one of the worst storms in years, a state of emergency has been declared and normally no one should be on the roads, so it is a mystery to me why anyone would be so dumb to be driving,"

Her team was clearly tense, the radios crackling in their ears, but they nodded to the captain as confirmation that they had understood the message. Maya did not want to lose any man or woman in her group to the storm. "We are approaching the scene of the accident. Be ready for anything, people. We can do this!" she said calmly and encouragingly while the fire engine´s sirens blared through the dark night.

When the team from Station 19 arrived at the scene of the accident, they were confronted with a dark and serious scene. The car is crammed in by a huge tree and is badly deformed, the hood of which is completely smashed and dented while some branches have pierced through the windshield and turned the interior of the vehicle into a field of rubble.

The fire team jumped out of the emergency vehicles and fought through the wind and rain to reach the car. But the captain remains rooted to the spot in front of the stern of the wreck, looking absentmindedly at the license plate, which was hanging askew. "Y/n.. IT IS Y/N!" she shouted unhindered amid the raging and deafening thunder and her team stopped their tasks in shock, Andy and Gibson focusing their gaze from the thick tree over to the woman in the driver's seat, who Warren was already trying to find vital signs on.

Maya lunged forward, her heart pounding with worry. Her helmet was almost blown away by the wind as she stepped closer, the flashlight shaking in her hand as she shone the light through the shattered window. Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she recognized the familiar features amid the devastation. She was confirmed that she did not have a number twist on the license plate, but that it really was you. Seriously injured and trapped in the car. “Y/n!” she cried, her voice filled with a terror she had never known before. Maya knew she had to stay calm now, that she had to be the professional captain, but her heart was screaming with fear and worry.

The other members of the fire department worked quickly and precisely. "Dean, Montgomery. Grab the hydraulic cutters! We need to get her out of here as quickly as possible. Her vital signs are at risk of plummeting!" shouted Warren. They used cutting tools to fight against the metal of the car on the passenger side and the resistance of the tree while Maya knelt next to the wreckage and held your hand, which was probably thrown out of the broken window after the impact and was now lying on the scratched paint of the outer door. "It looks bad in there! Be careful not to hurt her any further, approach carefully!"

Your eyes were dazed with pain and fear, but you were breathing, albeit weakly. Hearing her voice, you seemed to find some peace for a moment, your dull eyes glued to hers. Desperately wanting to say something, you opened your mouth from which blood began to ooze, but your crushed and injured lungs did not even let in air.

"Hold on, darling. Do not say anything, I am here. We will get you out of there, I promise." The blonde whispered, her voice firm to reassure you even as her own thoughts were caught in a chaos of worry and despair. The minutes stretched endlessly as her team struggled to bend the metal and free their captain's fiancée. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the metal gave way. Using their combined strength, Vic and Warren pulled you from the wreckage, carefully, yet as quickly as possible. As soon as they freed you, they carried you to the ambulance. Maya followed them, never taking her eyes off you. Your condition was serious, but you were still clinging to life. "Carina is coming. She is going to be at the hospital, she will be by your side the second you get there. But you have to fight now, okay? Fight for us."

The rain continued to beat down on you, the storm was still raging, but in the midst of this darkness and chaos there was a glimmer of hope- you were saved, and she would do anything now to help you fight through this storm. But it was hard to keep positive thoughts as the storm continued to sing its destructive song. She closed her eyes tightly as she rode in the ambulance and prayed, with your bloodstained hand in hers, that the next morning would bring a certain light to your health.

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cosmicck · 1 year

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Happy 1k!🥳 Can I get Jing Yuan with the prompt 2, 3, and 15 so desk sex, biting, and begging. Uhh I hope I did this right idk💀 anyways have a good day🎉🎉

★jing yuan x male reader(nsfw)

★genre:smut

★warning(s): domtop yuan, subbottom reader, desk sex, marking(biting, both receiving..i think), begging, reader is a virgin, kinda short cuz im tired but i love this man too much

★prompt(s): 2, 3, 15

★a/n: omg thanks bookie🥰 sorry this took me a while i was watching an orca documentary

jing yuan calling you to his office wasn't odd, but it wasn't normal to you either. you had worked for the general for quite some time and usually people got called to his office if he needed to discuss something important.

but him guiding your hips up and down on his cock in his desk chair wasn't one of the 'important' things you were thinking of. the room felt hot and stuffy, and so did your body. your arms tight around his neck trying to stay on him as he kept moving your hips.

with him in you, it made you feel so full as he thrusted in and out your hole, and what made him love this all the more is that he knew you were a virgin, he knew he was your first and that just made it all the more exciting.

you were already so sensitive to every touch before he was in you, he didn't even have to ask. your legs felt numb and weak, your fingers tangling through his long white hair that you had always thought was so petty, it was so beautiful especially when it was all the way down, or when it flowed through the wind.

you admire your general you really do. your moans gradually get louder feeling his tip rub against a bump that made your body almost go fully limp. he seemed to notice this as he stopped, you could've guessed he was exhausted but then why didn't he just ask you to leave?

he just kept you there and you swear you could hear papers shuffling. is he fucking serious? "why..aren't you moving?" he hung continueing to do his work before he spoke. "i'm sure you can angle yourself to where it feels good right?" you could barely feel your legs, so of course you couldn't find the strength to lift yourself up,

as he was guiding your hips the whole time. "please..i can't move, i feel so numb.." he laughed lightly, and tapped your thigh, "oh i'm sure you'll be just fine my dear. all you have to do is bounce your hips up and down, it shouldn't be so hard should it?"

he could be one cocky bastard when he wanted to be. you sigh shakily before lifting your hips slowly and settling them back down small shivers and jolts going through your body as you do this.

you could tell jing was enjoying this as you could feel and hear his breathes going shakey against you neck as you do this, along with small grunts echoing through your ears.

"just like that..go a little faster yeah?" you nod, changing your position so that your now leaning back with your elbows on the desk, looking straight on his eyes, both filled love and lust.

leaning your head back, you start to move your hips up and down once more, it being faster than the last time. the loud sounds of wet skin against skin starts to return as you pick up the pace,

you cover your mouth your moans muffled as you try not to make much noise as anyone who could have walked by the office could hear your whorish moans as you bounced on your own generals cock.

"look at me and uncover your face, i wanna see your face as you- fuck— do this." removing your hand from your mouth and lifting your head looking back at him, your face wasn't the only face looking cock drunk.

he loved how good he felt inside you, his face was flushed as small beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and his hands returning to your hips once more forcing your ass down harder,

hitting the spot that made you feel limp as before, you couldn't even moan right only a small screech being heard from your lips as the moment he jammed into your prostate, cum instantly splurts onto your stomach your body going limp once again.

he thrusts a few more times before his own semen shoots into you, the liquid felt so good and warm in your hole, a little of his spilling out onto the floor,

the both of you left breathless and tired. you could barely think anymore, but you do know this will start to become a daily thing as he calls you into his office more.

no i will not be checking for spelling errors cuz i know it's cringe asf😭 @gaybitchfx @esthxio @vyloy @reallyromealone / @rome-alone @lostsomewhereinthegarden @secretivemessenger @jingyuans-boothang

BITCH IT WAS YO TAG I WAS MISSING YAYA IM GONNA FIGHT U

#male reader #x male reader #male y/n #male reader insert #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x male reader #honkai star rail #hsr jing yuan #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr x male reader #male reader smut #bottom reader #bottom male reader #top jing yuan #dom top jing yuan

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denaliwrites · 6 months

Text

Lockdown Blues

Aziraphale x GN!Reader x Crowley

Summary: Remember that time everyone went crazy and made sourdough?

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Enough baked goods to make exactly 8 human stomachs explode.

"Right," a voice said from behind you.

You shrieked, whirling around and brandishing your hairbrush in defense... only to see Crowley standing there, giving you a look caught between amusement and confusion.

"Hgk."

"Fucking hell, Crowley, you can't just randomly appear in people's bedrooms," you said with a sigh. You put your brush down so that you could rub your temples. "I know you're a demon and all, but I didn't think I'd need to explain this."

"You -- oh, shut up," he growled, waving at you dismissively. "It's an emergency. Pack your cat." He paused, thoughtfully. "... And a bag, I s'pose."

"And where do you think I'll be going? The whole continent's closed."

"I'm taking you to the bookshop, where you will be staying until this damned lockdown blows over."

"I -- Crowley, you can't just come here and drag me away to be held hostage in the bookshop."

Crowley sighed, rolling his eyes. "I -- look -- I told you it was an emergency, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but then you just left it there? If you could elaborate, that'd be great.

He sighed again. "It's -- listen -- the angel -- Aziraphale is getting... weird."

You blinked rapidly a few times. "He's... he's what?"

"No time," Crowley said, coming to herd you up. "C'mon. Grab the cat. Grab some essentials. Let's go."

You reluctantly did as you were told, doing your best to pack some clothes, toiletries, a laptop, a fussy cat, and a few other things, all while an antsy demon followed you around urging you to move faster. You had half a mind to be annoyed, but you could tell Crowley was strangely serious about this, and that stopped you.

For the most part, at least.

Finally, you'd gathered everything you needed into three bags plus Ralph's carrier. Crowley, without any prompting, took the two biggest bags into his hands, then held out his elbow for you to take.

With nothing but a rucksack over one shoulder and Ralph's carrier in the opposite hand, you wound your free hand around Crowley's twiggy little arm, and the two of you vanished with a whoosh.

Only to appear, near instantaneously, within the confines of the bookshop.

You took a moment to remind yourself how to breathe before you crouched down and set the cat carrier on the floor. Ralph growled, no doubt a little wigged out from the disorienting mode of travel, but the moment you opened the carrier, he trotted out like nothing had happened.

"Crybaby," you sighed affectionately before pushing yourself back up to a stand. "Okay, where's the angel?"

You were hit rather suddenly with two realizations -- number one, Crowley was gone, and number two, you could smell... well, the best way to describe it was a fully stocked bakery. The scent was overwhelmingly of the general concept of bread, but you could smell sweeter treats as well -- vanilla, cinnamon, cooked fruits, chocolate, and so on.

Well, that didn't really bode particularly well, did it?

You hesitantly made your way up the stairs in the back and into the flat, wandering until you found the kitchen. Crowley was there, standing against the wall with Ralph held gently in his arms. How either of them had managed to get up here without you noticing, you didn't know.

At the stove, simmering what smelled like what would eventually be blackcurrant jam, stood Aziraphale. He whipped around at the sound of Ralph's hungry meow and jumped when he saw you all standing there, staring at him.

"You weren't kidding," you said, throwing a look over to Crowley. "He really has gone weird."

"I know," Crowley responded. He made a sound at the back of his throat as he nodded his head towards the angel. "That's why we're having this intervention."

"I'm sorry, this what?" Aziraphale yelped. "Please! You're so dramatic, Crowley. Here, dear," he said, turning towards you with a pastry in hand. "Try this?"

You shot another look to Crowley, silently asking permission. He only sighed and rolled his eyes in response, so you shrugged and took a bite. It was...

Well, he'd clearly made it by hand.

He was watching you, and you knew he wanted your opinion, and you knew he wanted it honest, but you'd never had the heart to give him bad news, so you smiled and put a thumb up.

"Oh, good!" he said cheerfully.

When he turned around to return to his jam, you quickly motioned for Crowley to get you some water. He miracled you a glass and handed it over, and you drank it in three long drags.

"Bit heavy on the salt?" he asked quietly, to which you replied with a vigorous nod.

"What was that, dear?" Aziraphale asked.

"Nothing!" you and Crowley both said.

This was ridiculous, you thought. You could tell Aziraphale he was using too much salt. That was easy. Right? Right. You sucked in a deep breath to prepare yourself, and then released it in one big huff.

"Maybe -- erm, maybe, I think, it could use..."

"Yes, dear?" Aziraphale asked, turning to look at you with such loving eyes, so trusting and beautiful.

Fuck.

"Nothing. I was wrong. Sorry. Continue."

He smiled so joyfully as he turned back to his jam.

You chanced a glance at Crowley, who was glaring at you.

"Coward," he hissed.

"I know," you whimpered, burying your face in your hands.

#aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x you #crowley x you #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens fan fiction #michael sheen #david tennant

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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

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Hello sweetheart heart, hope you are having a nice day. We love ghost, sow now i love you.

You, me and Jesus Christ know that when Ghost loves hard, he loves STRONGLY. This man gives you every bit of his soul little by little, in his own way, in his own time, but he does it with every fiber of his being. Now, Ghost gave his soul to his women. He opened himself in every possible way with her, he loves her too much. Until he loses her one day, on a mission, the last thing he saw was her being wounded. They are separated and she doesn't answer his calls, he thinks she is wounded to the brink of death. how would ghost react? does he's go "devil mode"? etc.

I NEED ANGST, I NEED TO CRY. I want this man to break my heart.

ily2 ghost solidarity (Damn dude you got me turning on my angst song, this hit me hard lmaooo)

TW: graphic descriptions of violence, angst

God, he’s a fucking mess. Ghost who is normally so calm and level headed. He is normally the picture of grace under pressure. But when everything started going sideways, you did what you do best and you protected him. Your 6’4” hulking behemoth of a man. The floor crumbed and broke under your feet, forcing you both to plummet down to the ground floor. The only part of the building that so far survived the blast. Ghost saw your attackers aim their guns into the hole you were both in. You acted quick and shot them, but not before they shot at you first. You pushed him away from you as hard as you could and the last thing he saw before you were separated was a spray of blood. And then more debris came crumbling down. And then silence. His blood went ice cold. There’s no fucking way. There’s absolutely no fucking way this is happening. He screamed. He screamed your call sign until his throat was raw. He’s not a religious man at all but sweet god above, this can’t be real. This is just a bad dream. Please god, this is just a bad dream.

You weren’t responding and it sounded like more of the enemy force were coming in. But it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t remember what happened. He wouldn’t remember mowing them down, one by one. He wouldn’t remember jamming his thumbs into their eyes, or plunging his knife in their throats over and over and over again, or even the tears. The hot tears that glued his mask to his face like a second layer of skin. He wouldn’t remember any of it.

Just the kisses he never gave you. The mornings he could’ve spent in your arms. The nights he could’ve spent curled up on the sofa, letting the TV run with whatever you wanted. The pointless arguments you would’ve gotten into about the pros and cons of having a dog. The time he could’ve spent unpacking your belongings in his house and watching you turn it into a home. The stupid texts you would’ve sent him about the most ridiculous things, groceries, jokes, those stupid quizzes you loved so much.

And as he held you in his arms, his hands shaking and applying as much pressure to your side as he could, his love is pouring from his lips and his eyes. He won’t let go. He absolutely will not fucking let you go. Even as evac came and put you on a stretcher, loading you into the chopper, he is holding onto you for dear life.

He’ll never let you go.

I might decide to do a full one shot from this 👀

#ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #angst #cod one shot

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ddejavvu · 7 months

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Han solo's hands that are much bigger than readers. They look so massive when compared to readers smaller frame.

Imagine them on reader's thighs,waist even face as he holds it with one or both hands ! Maybe those hands go somehere else ifykwim 😏

Im in love with him, help.

i was just talking about han holding reader by the back of the neck with indy earlier. some good shit.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

han has disgustingly massive hands. no, really, they're obscenely large. and you know what they say about big hands <333

i think before you're even hooking up, or maybe after you've started fucking but you're not right at the moment, he'll still use them to boss you around. he pushes against your shoulder if you're in his way instead of just slipping past you or saying excuse me. he'll pinch your ass if you walk by him. he'll snatch stuff out of your hands, just take it right away from you purely to piss you off. it happens especially with stuff you're trying to move out of the crap pile that i know his quarters are in the falcon. i know there's weird shit laying all over the place, and god forbid you try to pick some of it up and put it elsewhere so that you have a spot to sit down, 'cause he'll yank it out of your hands and go 'gimme that. keep your hands to yourself.'

i think when you're riding his dick he'll shove them in your mouth. you're bouncing on his cock, desperately trying to fuck yourself hard enough on him to satisfy him, but the thing is you're tired and it would be soooo much easier if he just helped you by putting those massive hands of his on your hips and bouncing you himself. but he doesn't, because he wants to watch you come undone trying to please him :]

he'll watch you abuse your achy, soaking wet, drooling pussy on his cock and he'll put one of his massive hands on your face. he sticks his pointer and middle finger in your mouth, and uses the rest to anchor himself on your cheekbones. he's clutching tight to your face and you're letting him jam his fingers down your throat, feeling their rough pads prod at the back of your throat enough to have you gagging and choking on them. you're a mess, your eyes are red-rimmed and wet with tears, you're desperately trying to swallow his fingers, your tongue is going wild trying to cover every inch of his skin with spit, and your poor puffy pussy is all open and wet and hot all over his cock. he likes it when you're a mess, especially when you make yourself a mess for him.

the sounds of your choking make his dick twitch inside of you. he might even press his fingers down on your tongue to flood your mouth with drool because he's cruel, and he wants to watch your eyes roll back into your head as you try to control the itchy feeling in your throat of needing to gag. he's such a shit-talker, he'll hit you with that gruff, condescending voice of his, 'stupid little thing, ain't'cha? trying to swallow my whole fuckin' hand?'

he's gonna torture you until the obscene mixture of slick and cum and sweat and sex is sliding down not only your legs but his own pelvis, and then he's gonna jam it back inside of you with those huge hands of his. he'll use them to manhandle you onto the mattress, pin your shoulder to the sheets, and drag his long, thick fingers across your skin, scooping the slick up and stuffing it back inside of your leaking hole. you're absolutely soaked in the stuff, both of you, so it'll never work the way he wants it to, but he's going to stuff you with as much as you can take, and then he's gonna stick his fingers back in your face so that you can clean them off for him.

i also just think he'd stick his fingers in your mouth for his own pleasure. you're reading something, or you're focused on a project you're working on, and all of a sudden han's pinching the hollows of your cheeks together so that your mouth opens, and one of his rough fingers is bullying its way into your mouth. He pins your head against his stomach if he's doing it from behind you, and you're just held in this headlock while he sticks a finger down your throat.

'c'mon, suck it off, sweetheart.' he orders you, completely unphased by your disgruntled dismay at being oh-so-rudely interrupted from whatever task you were focusing on before, 'stop squirming, you're so fuckin' dramatic.'

i like the idea of him having his hands all over you all the time. i think he squeezes you by the back of the neck like i mentioned earlier. he's the type of guy to pinch and rub your shoulders all of a sudden in a 'massage' that really feels like your muscles are being ripped apart. he's hands-on and you're gonna have to get used to it.

he hauls you around by the bicep, too. he grabs you like a dude and yanks you wherever he wants. pinches tight enough for it to hurt, maybe just enough for it to bruise if he's feeling like it. he can be gentle with you, of course, but he's rough by nature and i think he'd manhandle you more often than not with those monster fucking hands he's got.

#han solo x reader #han solo imagine #han solo x you #han solo x y/n #han solo smut #han solo fanfiction #han solo fanfic #han solo fic #han solo oneshot #han solo one-shot #han solo one shot #han solo headcanon #han solo headcanons #han solo hc #han solo hcs #han solo fluff #han solo blurb #han solo dialogue #han solo drabble

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and-claudia · 5 months

Text

Against All Odds pt. 8 (Joel Miller x fem! reader)

General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that’s not your jam, I’m sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won’t actually be in it for a bit

Warnings for this part: guns, killing, cannon violence

Word count: 3400+

Taglist Sign-Up (read my rules carefully before filling it out)

gif not mine

As the truck went through the window I instinctively reached my hand out to brace myself for the impact. Pain radiated from my wrist all the way up my arm and my head jerked forward as we hit something heavy enough to stop the momentum of the truck.

“Everyone okay?” Joel yelled.

“Yeah.” Ellied said, she didn’t sound like she was in pain, which was good.

“Sure.” I said through gritted teeth.

I knew I messed up my wrist somehow, I just wasn’t in a position to assess if it was a sprain, fracture, or just plain broken, and I definitely had whiplash in my neck.

“Ellie, you’re not hurt or nothin’?” Joel asked.

“No, I don’t think so, you and Yn okay?”

“I’m fine.” Joel confirmed.

“My wrist. Worry about it later though.”

No sooner did the words leave my mouth than the bullets started being fired at the truck. Instinctively we all ducked down.

“Belts off. Fast!” Joel yelled.

I did as he said, and opened my door that was opposite of the window we crashed through. Before I slid out though, I managed to grab the bag that was at my feet and take it with me. Ellie got out from the back seat and Joel slid out behind me. We all sat bunched up together, using the truck as a shield. After a moment or two, Joel carefully maneuvered to get the rifle out of the truck to have some form of defense against the ones shooting at us.

“Give us your shit, you make it through this! I promise!” I heard one of them yell, but I knew it was a trap. They would take our supplies and kill us.

"Joel... the hole she can fit through it." I said nodding towards a hole in the wall. He nodded.

“Ellie, you see it? When I say go, you crawl to that wall, you climb through and you don’t come out until one of us says, okay?” Joel said to her, I could tell she was scared.

“Ellie, they won’t hit you, okay? They won’t.” I tried to reassure her.

“Just stay down, stay quiet.” Joel added.

“Mhm.” The girl nodded but I could tell she was still scared.

“Ready?” Joel looked at me, and I got my gun ready, despite the shooting pain in my wrist and nodded.

“Go!” Joel yelled and we both stood up, him at the bed and me at the hood, and began firing back at them. Ellie began making her way to the hole.

I wanted to steal a look at her but couldn’t. I just continued shooting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of Joel’s shots hit one of the men and he went down. I took that chance to duck back down behind the truck.

“You motherfucker!” The other man yelled, he pissed.

I made eye contact with Joel. There was debris further back that would offer bed coverage. He slightly communicated to me to go behind it. I nodded and stayed low as I moved to it. We stayed there silently, the only sound coming from the man as he got closer. Just as he rounded the corner, before he even got a chance to reach for his own trigger, Joel had already pulled his. I sighed in relief.

The calm only lasted for a second though because the next thing I knew, the back door to the building was swinging open and another man came in his weapon raised. He hadn’t seen me, only Joel. The two of them were now fighting up close and I couldn’t get a clear shot. Eventually, the man had Joel pinned to the ground. This was my shot I raised my gun and pulled the trigger. Nothing. Fuck. I was out of ammo. Joel was fighting against the rifle laying across his windpipe, legs kicking trying to force the man off of him. I tried to hurry to get the magazine out of my gun to reload it as fast as I could, but my hands were shaking. Then I heard a gun fire, causing me to jump. When I looked up from the gun, I saw Joel laying there breathing heavily, and the man dead beside him. I looked around for who had shot him and saw that Ellie had crawled back through and shot him.

Joel slowly got up and gave Ellie a look. She handed the gun to him and turned around to go back behind the wall. He put the safety on and turned to me.

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head and tried not to let the tears fall, “I- I thought I was counting how- how many rounds I had shot… I must have messed up… I thought there were two- two more.”

“It’s okay, it happens.” He tried to reassure me.

I shook my head, “If you die, I can’t get here there alone… I can’t do any of this alone, Joel… please.” The floodgates broke.

He was in front of me in an instant, wrapping me up in his arms.

“Sh, it’s okay, Yn. It’s okay… we gotta get out of site, okay.” I nodded weakly, “Come on.”

He led me over to the wall, “Ellie, look for another way in!”

“There’s a door but stuff is against it. I can try to move it.” She said.

Soon we were all in the small room together. We rebarricaded the door and took a few minutes to regroup and figure out what supplies we had left. Between our two bags, we each had some food, Joel’s light, a few extra pairs of clothes, and ammunition. My wrist was definitely sprained pretty good, but I would just deal with that later.

“Now what?” Ellie asked.

“We go up. Hopefully, we can spot a clear route out.” Joel said.

Joel led the way out of the building and down the alleyway behind it. We could hear cars driving down roads nearby, calling out for who I can only assume was one of the men we just killed. We made it to another building and slipped inside, unseen. We continued making our way from building to building, trying to get to the taller ones. It was slow moving but eventually, it became even slower. We had company. Men with armor on, carrying rifles, and handheld battering rams were going from door to door, looking for someone.

“They’re not FEDRA, and they’re not Fireflies, so who are they?” Ellie asked.

“People.” Joel replied from where he stood, peeking out between two pieces of paper covering the window.

“Are we going to be okay staying here, Joel?” I asked.

“For a bit, at least. Looks like they’re checkin’ out apartment buildings first… But they’ll eventually start going through these places too. Take a look, Yn, see that tall one, about four blocks down?” Joel asked, stepping away to allow me to look.

“Yeah, that where we’re heading?” I asked.

“Once we don’t hear a truck, we move.” He confirmed.

We all took a seat to wait for the coast to be clear and make our break for the building.

“You okay, Ellie?” I asked.

Shooting someone is traumatic, and I wanted to make sure she was okay.

“Yup. Wasn’t my first time.” She said. Her tone was short and she clearly not wanting to talk about it yet.

I nodded and let her be.

“Are you okay, let me see your wrist.” Joel said, holding his hand out for me to place my hand in.

I did and winced as my wrist touched his hand. He took a couple of seconds to examine it.

“Can you move it?”

I did the best I could which was hardly anything. But a little movement was good, it wasn’t broken and hopefully, the sprain wasn’t completely torn ligament bad.

“We gotta wrap it.” Joel said.

“It’s fine.” I insisted, but Joel gave me that look.

“You would make me do the same. Ellie, she was stuff to wrap injuries in her bag, hand it to me.” He said.

She did as he asked and soon my wrist was all wrapped up, preventing me from really using it.

“This means I can’t shoot…” I said.

“It’ll be okay.” Joel said, trying to get me not to worry.

“Would now be a bad time to ask if I can have the gun back?” Ellie asked.

Joel looked to me for my input. While she was still pretty young, with the proper knowledge it would be beneficial for her to have her own weapon just in case.

“I mean, in the long run, it’s better to show her now rather than later.” I said and Joel nodded, knowing what I was true.

He pulled the gun out and emptied the chamber, making sure nothing was left in it so it wouldn’t accidentally get shot out and either hurt someone or give our hiding spot away. Then he moved over to where Ellie was to show her how to use it properly. I moved to sit next to them to listen and give any input I could as well.

“Show me your grip.” He said, handing her the gun.

“Take your finger off the trigger.” I said.

We were both surprised that she actually had a pretty decent grip on the gun. There was definitely room for improvement but she at least didn’t have a limp grip on it.

“Now who taught you that?” Joel asked.

“FEDRA school.” “Figures.” Joel said shaking his head slightly.

Then he grabbed her other hand and brought it up to hold the gun as well, “Thumb over thumb, left and squeezes the right.” He explained as he guided her hands on where to go.

“You got a good grip on it now?” I asked, “You sure?” I asked again before reaching over and trying to jerk it out of her grip.

She held it just fine to which Joel and I nodded.

“That’s why you hold it with two hands and not one. Makes it harder for someone to rip it out of your hands.” Joel explained.

Joel collected the magazine off the floor and held his hand out for Ellie to give him the gun back. She did and he reloaded it for her before handing it back. She tested the new weight of it in her hands before nodding and going to put it in the back of her jeans.

“Uh-uh. You put it in your pack.” Joel said.

“Why? You and YN carry it like this.” She said.

“We’re adults. Plus, you’d probably shoot your damn ass off.” Joel said, causing me and Ellie to laugh a little.

“That can’t happen!” Ellie said.

“Oh, but it can. I knew a guy, shot his ass off.” I said causing both of them to look at me funny.

“Yup, when I lived in Alabama, after the breakout.” At this point Joel was looking at me funny, knowing I had never lived in Alabama.

“His name was Forest, Forest Gump. He was friends with brother…” I explained.

“Damn, that must suck! How did he take a shit?” Ellie asked, clearly believing the story.

“I mean, keep your gun back there, you’ll find out for yourself.” I said and that seemed to convince her to put it in her pack instead.

At this point, Joel had stood up and was checking outside.

“It’s clear. We need to move.” He said, already moving to the door to pull the barricades off of it.

Ellie and I both stood up and grabbed our stuff. We turned to Joel just before he opened the door. He hesitated and looked over at us.

“We’ll get through this.” He said and we both nodded.

We slipped out of the building and began making our way towards the taller ones. It was slow going. We constantly had to find cover from being spotted by anyone. The sun eventually began to set and we were finally at the taller ones. Which was great because I was getting tired of running from building to building. Joel hoisted Ellie up so she could break into the building through a vent and then let us in. We waited outside for her.

“Where would you be without me?” She said, triumphantly as she opened the door.

“By now, Wyoming.” Joel said.

“Probably still in Boston.” I said, teasingly as I walked in.

“Oh, yeah. Walked right into that one.” Ellie said, shutting the door behind us.

We looked around the area we were in. It looked like a garage for whatever building we were at. “Okay, let’s make our way up. Rest. Come morning, I’ll take a look, find us a way out of the city.” Joel said, leading the way now.

As we passed the doorway to the stairs Ellie and I both saw how many floors there were.

“We’re not really going up all 47 floors, right?” Ellie asked.

My feet hurt even just hearing that number.

“Forty-five, actually. Or as far as I can make it.” Joel said.

“What about as far as I can make it?” I asked.

“I’m older.” Joel shot back, teasing me.

“I’m pregnant-er.” I said as we began climbing the stairs.

“That’s not even a word.”

“But its true… I’m like what, 12… 13 weeks probably… I can’t remember honestly.” I said the last bit to myself.

“That sounds about right.” Joel said, shocking me a little. I had no idea he was keeping track of any of that.

The climb went silent, until about the 20th floor when I could hear all of us breathing a little harder.

“Hey,” Ellie’s voice finally broke the silence, “When that guy was hurt, how did you know it was an ambush?”

Joel stopped and leaned on the railing for support, “I’ve been on both sides,” he began, “It was a long time ago. We did what we needed to survive.”

“You and Yn?”

“No, not Yn. Before Boston.”

“So you and Tess?” She pressed.

“And the others we were with. Including my brother.” He said.

There were a few moments of silence before Ellie asked another question, “Did you kill innocent people?”

I already knew the answer. Joel avoided the question and just told us to come on as he began climbing again.

Finally, Joel decided we were high enough. My feet hurt. I could barely breathe. We got off the stairs and went into the halls to find a room.

“Holy shit.” Ellie said.

“Yeah.” I agreed.

“Thirty-Three floors. That’s good. That’s high enough.” Joel said.

“It better fucking be.” I said, leaning against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

Joel had taken a seat against the wall beside to do the same thing. He didn’t get to sit for long though because Ellie was already pushing for him to get back up.

“Come on, lazy ass.” She said causing me to laugh as she pulled him up to stand.

“Lazy ass,” Joel repeated under his breath with a grunt, “I’m lazy, I am fifty-six years old you piece of shit.” He said back making us both laugh.

We finally found somewhere to stay for the light. Joel busted through the glass on the door to get us in. Once we were in, Ellie and I found some cushions from the couches to use as mats to sleep on. Unlike last time, this time I decided to put mine and Joel's side my side.

“Y’all better not do anything gross. I’m literally 6 feet away.” Ellie said upon seeing the setup.

“Trust me, we won’t.” I said.

Before she could say anything else, Joel began making all sorts of noise with broken glass. I looked over and he was dumping it all on the ground by the door. Ellie called his name a few times to get his attention but it wasn’t working until she pretty much yelled his name.

“What?” he asked, confused as to why she just yelled.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I don’t want someone sneakin’ up on us while we’re sleepin’.” He said.

Ellie nodded, “Ohh, I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch.” She said as Joel walked over to the make shift mats, “Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?”

I had to stop myself from laughing.

“Of course, I’ll hear it. That’s the damn point.” He said, missing the old man joke completely.

“Okay,” Ellie held her hands up in surrender, “Well, good night, then. Oh, and I already told her but I’ll tell you, no nasty stuff better be going on over on your mats.” She said.

Joel looked over to where I was sitting and saw how I had put ours out. I couldn’t read his emotions in the darkness of the room and it made me panic that I may have stepped over the line. Joel ignored her and came over to me.

“If this isn’t okay and you’d rather sleep alone I can move mine away. I just wasn’t sure if-” I began to ramble.

“It’s fine. Promise.” He said, setting down his stuff beside his side, which also just happened to be the side he always slept on with me.

“Want some help with your boots?” He offered.

I was very capable of doing them, but nodded nonetheless. He slipped them off and I was appalled at how swollen they were already.

“Dude! That’s gross!” Ellie said, from where she was now lying on her side, watching us.

“Well, this is the shit that I am assuming happens when you are pregnant and climb over thirty flights of stairs. I will not be retesting this assumption though.” I said.

“Remind me to never have a kid. That looks painfull.” She said, before rolling back over.

“Do they hurt?” Joel asked softly.

I shook my head, “Not really, a little sore but tolerable.” I said, truthfully.

“What about your wrist? How is that doing?”

“It’s fine. We can look at it in the morning better.” I said before yawing.

Joel nodded and settled down on his side as I did the same. We all lay in silence for a bit before Joel’s voice broke through it.

“Hey, Ellie.” “Yea?”

“When we were talkin’ about hurtin’ people earlier, what did you mean it wasn’t your first time?” Joel asked cautiously.

I could hear Ellie shift around before she spoke, “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Jole turned his back to me to look over at her, “You don’t have to… I’m just sayin, it isn’t fair, at your age… having to deal with that.” He said, trying to comfort her in his own way.

“So, it gets easier when you’re older?” She asked, clearly trying to joke to brighten the mood that had settled around them.

“No, not really.” Joel said, shaking his head slightly.

“I asked about you hearing the glass earlier because I noticed you don’t hear too well on your right side. Is that from where you got shot?” Ellie asked, changing the subject.

“Probably more from shootin’,” He said, truthfully, “So if you wanna keep your hearing, stick to that knife.” He said before rolling back over.

There were a few more moments of silence and I thought they were both drifting to sleep like I was but of course, Ellie spoke up one last time.

“Hey Joel, did you know diarrhea is hereditary?” She asked, and I could already tell where this was going.

“What?” Joel asked confused by the random question.

“Yeah… it runs in your jeans.” She said.

I could feel Joel behind me, looking back at her over his shoulder. I was failing to contain my small laughter. Ellie also laughed some. Joel rolled back over, draping one of his arms over me as I continued to snicker a little.

“Jesus.” Joel said and I could hear the small smile in his tone.

“That is so damn stupid.” He said, trying not to laugh.

“You laughed, motherfucker.” Ellie said.

“I didn’t laugh.” “You’re trying not to!” I chimed in.

“Guess I’m losing it, then.” He said.

“Big time, dude.” Ellie said, still laughing.

Finally, Joel broke and all three of us were laughing. Once we all eventually calmed down, we said our goodnights and went to sleep.

I wasn’t sure how long I was asleep but at some point, my eyes snapped open to the sound of glass crunch under someone’s shoe.

taglist: (if you filled out a form and aren’t on this list that means either a) your blog is not coming up in the searches so I am unable to confirm that you are 18+, or b) you did not follow my rules for being tagged in this fic)

@sexyvixen7

@joelmillerslays

@elliaze

@little-lovely-darling

@swimmjacket

@watercolorskyy

@mserynlarsen

@sebby-staan

@beelanie

@fan-g0rl

@paige96

@pedropascalfanclub

@ameliadraws

@mavs101

@azerty29

@rileyferg

@belliedellie

@rhaenyrasgf

@imcreepininyourheartbabe

@nani-kenobi

@lunas-sstuff

@holb32

@reidsgubbler

@cleocat246

@novamidoriya

@katmae1997

@dizzywinterdaydream

@mrswidowjohansson

@abzidabzy

@givemeth

@morgaussy

@summerchicken

@kelh27

@ayamenimthiriel

@letmehavemyfictionalmen

@everything-isfucked

@emilyjustemily

@drewharrisonwriter

@littlwitchgoblin

@angel4astraea

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@taz-97

@angel4astraea

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@hehehehannahthings

@keileighr

@shotgun-shelby

@joeldjarin

@catsareawesomek @harriedandharassed @keileighr

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #hbo the last of us #hbo tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel miller tlou

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frxxxncx · 9 months

Text

teach me, please - w. junhui

»roommate!¡Wen Junhui x fem¡!reader.

»Summary: While trying to masturbate your roommate tries to give you a hand.

»Tags: smut (MDNI), oral (f. receiving), cunnilingus, pet names, fingering, squirting, hair pulling, no plot just porn, guided masturbation, roommates to lovers(idk)

»Words: 2.9k

Note: Any typo or incoherence that you might find was completely intentional, it’s for the sake of learning about my mistakes.

You have always thought of yourself as a reserved person, and you thought of it as something good, but right now, when you are with your legs wide open in front of your roommate, you wish you had been more open to ask your girlfriend how to finger yourself, but you lived five hours far from each other and ask her to go for a coffee just so you can interrogate her about something so private as masturbating, was out of the question.

As embarrassing as it was, in your twenty-three years of life you've never masturbated, you like to think that it's because when you were young your best friend at the time say that when she tried, it didn't feel good, and that she just ended up with her fingers covered in blood, and obviously as a fourteen-year-old, that scared the shit out of you, blood? You didn't want to bleed from there for anything other than your period.

But now you know that probably she just tore her hymen, and that's why she bled at the time. So why didn't you try to get off?, Well, you didn't know how to do it, and to ask anyone how to do it was imposible, it's not like you could come to someone, and say "hey, I don't know how to masturbate, can you teach me?".

But now you want to know how is that you ended up with Jun sitting in the armchair in front of you while you tried to masturbate.

———————————————————————— Your level of stress has been building up throughout the day, leaving your essay that was due by tomorrow for last was the worst decision you have had in years, your muscles were stiff, and your back was killing you, sitting 8 hours straight was a method of torture you were not expecting to go through. Your head was pounding but you were scared to take another pill since you took one less than two hours ago.

When you finally finished the essay and stretched your back it cracked so deliciously that a quiet and satisfied moan left your lips, but you still had an awful headache, you thought about what could help you relive the pain and you remembered something your friend told you "When my head hurts I usually masturbate, swallow the pills it's too scary", the thought of it was scandalous for you, you even hit her in the arm, and she laughed at your chicks that were bright red.

After several minutes of thinking, you gave up and decided that masturbating was the answer to all of your problems.

You didn't even bother to close the door since Jun told you that he would be late. Your shorts and panties were long forgotten on the floor of your room, your fingers trying to make you feel good in some way by getting in and out of your poor cunt, it felt weird, uncomfy and the fact that you had to spit in your hand every now and then to use it as lube exasperated you, it wasn't like what your friend told you that happened when his boyfriend finger fucked her.

Your fingers were just jamming inside of you, and frustrated by it you were about to give up when the sound of your door closing sent shivers down your body.

"Hello, Mister DJ Downstairs" the raspy yet velvety voice scared you, You weren't sure if it was a product of your imagination, but still your hand stopped working as if it was doing anything at all, and your head snapped to your bedroom door.

"J-jun, what are you doing here? You said you were coming home late" Your hand looked for something to cover up but your pillows were on the other side of the bed too far to reach them without flashing your roommate even more.

"Baby, it is fucking late already, it's like three in the morning" Jun say in a chuckle while getting closer to you.

Your legs were close shut and your arms between your thighs, you were just thankful that you didn't take off your -his- black shirt.

"By the way what are you even doing, you lost something down there?" the comment made you giggle but at the same time offended you, you were trying your best and all, just for him to make fun of you?.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm tryna masturbate here, now get the hell out" Your tone was upset, and by all means, you wished he didn't notice the hope in your voice.

"Well, darling, you look like you're trying to get something from inside there, Why are you being so harsh with your poor kitty?" He was being serious about the fact that you completely sucked at whatever you were doing and that -even though it was the truth- hurt your ego, and when you feel attacked you tend to blast out the first thing that goes through your mind.

"Jesus, Wen Junhui, if you are such an expert, why don't you help me then?" Just as the words left your mouth, you didn't even have time to think about what you just said, when he answered.

"My pleasure, but first let me help you there, you need to know how to make yourself feel good" He got his phone from his back pocket and started to type something quickly.

His face went from his phone to you, and the soft smile he gave you, warmed your heart even in the given situation.

"I'll guide you," He said, putting one hand on your knee. The tact felt so hot you thought it would burn your skin.

"Ah?" His hand left a tingling sensation on your flesh making your tummy feel weird. You saw him sit in the armchair that was located just in front of you and felt small, his long legs were wide open and his elbows were over his knees, with phone in hand.

Your arms were still in between your thighs but this time they were looking for some kind of relief.

"Have you ever had sex?" he asked while scrolling through his phone again, interested in whatever he was reading " I'm sure you haven't, tho" he whispered so low that you were very sure he was saying that to himself.

"Jun, what the actu-"You couldn't even finish talking when he interrupted you to ask again "Have you ever had sex or not?" Behind his blank tone, you could sense he was starting to get annoyed and that sent a "funny" feeling to your cunt.

"No" You were not so close to him, but you still could see the flickering flame of lewdness that started in his eyes, and you didn't say a word about it.

"Perfect" he whispered to himself, locking his eyes in the place your hands were so desperate to hide from him.

"So what?" you were impatient and that was revealed through your tone making you feel embarrassed.

"I need you to do as I say, don't do more nor less than what I'm asking you" his voice sounded guttural, a small hint of desire making you whimper softly.

You nodded, waiting for him to start guiding you as soon as possible. "I need words, doll, say it, loud and clear." There was something about how he said that, and the way his eyes darkened while watching you open your legs again, that made you have shivers running down your spine.

"Yes, I'll do whatever you tell me to do, Teach me, please" your legs were wide open for him, you saw him but his lower lip while his eyes were locked in your cunt.

"Okey, baby, first relax, take a deep breath and lay down" his voice was soft, it was like every word slipped into your ears like honey, your nipples starting to harden.

You laid down, with your knees flexed, hands gripping your shirt tightly at the feeling of the cool air of the room brush in your cunt, you heard him move in the armchair, maybe fixing his posture, but that made you wish that he got up and touched you.

"I need you to know your body, touch your tits, fondle them, grope them, stroke your nipples, get yourself worked up before you start down in your pussy" you did as he said, you hands went under your shirt and you started to caress softly your breasts, outlining them, gently touching, massaging your nipples carefully with the palm of your hand, pinching them making your body quaver.

"That's it, sweetie, just like that '' his honeyed voice praised and you shuddered in your place, "You're doing so good, just as I say" a subtle whine escaped your lips making the man in front of you groan.

"Lift your shirt, let me see you completely" the tone was demanding, making your toes curl, your cunt pulsating desperately.

The shirt was over your breasts, the cold air making the sensitive buds perkier, the tips of your fingers drew delicate lines over your torso, on your ribs getting closer and closer to your waist.

The heavy gaze of Jun encourages you to continue "Cup your cunt and look how wet you are now, feel how drench your pussy is" hesitantly you hand touched over your cunt, fingers pressed lightly to your entrance, palm over your hard clit.

The feeling of the sticky wetness made you look over to your friend that was watching you with a crooked smile while gripping tightly the armrest making his knuckles look extremely white, eyes glowing in lust at your sopping core.

"Press your middle finger into your entrance, but don't go inside just yet" your finger pressed lightly, your hips trembling looking for something that could relieve the sting on your clit.

"Now, stroke your clit, do it slow, make circles" as instructed your now slick finger got to the bud of nerves, the circles were small, slow, at a timid pace but it still felt good "Do it faster, baby, harder" the tempo started to speed up, not doing circles any more but rubbing harder.

"One finger, love, get one finger in" your middle finger slid from your folds getting to your entrance, and this time when your finger thrust inside a loud and embarrassing moan left your mouth.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty" Jun was having view of his life, if he could, he would burn this memory to look at it every time he wanted to whack off.

"Get another finger inside" your ring finger slipped easily making your hips stumble, "Go in and out, seek for your pleasure, make yourself feel good" your body jerked toward you hand fingers going in and out at a violent pace, a delectable burn making your gummy walls clench tightly on your fingers.

"J-Jun" your voice came out in a pornographic moan of his name, making him smile knowing what you wanted.

"What is it, doll?" he cooed watching your fingers jamming in and out, the wet noises filling the room

"Do you want something from me?" the condescending tone mask with a sweet and velvety trill, made you whine making your hand move faster, your palm colliding with you clit deliciously.

"J-jun, touch me, pleh- please, need you"you said, stuttering, the last bit of consciousness leaving your body.

The man didn't need to be asked twice, he was hovering over you, hand in each side of your head, looking into your eyes, finding a sparkle of desire mixed with excitement. His left hand stroking one of you many loose hairs behind your ear, meanwhile his unoccupied hand joined your own down your cunt.

His hand was hot, and you could feel the calloused skin over the back of your hand, making you wonder, how would it feel on your clit.

Jun stopped your hand —witch now had gotten into a sloppy pace because your fingers were starting to cramp—, and brought your whacked fingers to his mouth, he sucked the arousal in them, making you moan at the feeling of his hot tongue playing with your digits, leaving them fully "cleaned".

"So sweet" he says, getting your fingers out of his mouth, cunt pulsating and drooling with your slick even more. His voice sounded hoarse and guttural, it was evident in his tone that he wanted more, so much more.

He decided to strip you from the last piece of clothing you had, his shirt now was being used to keep both you hands over your head, he bit his lower lip looking how your body was at his disposal, your wreck expression, drunk in pleasure, desperate to release the coil that has been building up in your tummy since he set a foot in the room.

You watch him thrilled, going down on you, now feeling his hot breath against your puffy and glistened folds, awaiting for what was about to happen.

His tongue nuzzled into your hardened clit, a whiny plea escaping your lips, giving him a green flag to do as he pleased, this time sucking gently the sensitive dot making you scream.

If you knew that getting head from Jun would feel like heaven you would have tried to ask him to teach you before.

Your fingers grabbed his brunette and fluffy locks, pulling his strands of hair every time he would nimble carefully on your clit.

He was drinking from your pussy like a starved man, enjoying every bit of your arousal in his mouth. His pointer and ring fingers slipped easily inside of you, an extremely lewd sound coming out of your mouth and the pleasurable sting of his much thicker fingers inside of you made you self conscious, the coil that has been forming in your tummy about to burst, making you feel somehow "weird", it was an urge to relief that scared you.

“J-Jun, Junnie stop, wa- i need to—go t- bathroom” you said, stuttering, pulling his hair, trying to get him to stop sucking at your clit, deed that was making you feel that way even more.

He lifted his face, chin soaked in your juices, lips red and glossy, the view making you want a kiss, but other than that his expression was one from someone who just heard a joke.

With his unoccupied hand he wiped his mouth, and proceeded to hover over you, his right hand still jamming into you at a brutal pace, making the wet noises fill the room with your loud whimpers.

"You sure you want me to stop?" He asked while his thumb started to press and move over the perk bud.

You were amused, you just said that you were about to pee, you felt like you were about to pee, and that was extremely embarrassing, that was the last thing you wanted to do infront of him, or in this case, the last thing you wanted to do in his hand.

And like he could read your mind he said "You are not going to pee, you are about to cum" he licked his lips and watched your with a burning need "just cum for me, doll, cum all you want in my fingers"

Your stomach tightened and the coil released when his fingers curled just in the right place, that spongy and special spot. You came wetting his whole hand, squirting on your first time masturbating.

He helped you through your high making sure to not overstimulate you, it was still your first time masturbating. You were left trembling in his arms, astonished for what just happened.

"You don't know how many times I have wanked off by the thought of you coming undone in my fingers" he said breathlessly, looking at the masterpiece he just made of you, pussy coated in your own arousal and his spit, his drench fingers left your core slowly stealing a small moan from you.

"Pussy so tight, I could cum only by sticking my cock inside of you" his face was so close to you that his lips were brushing yours, his breath felt so hot it was burning you "I want to fuck you so bad, right now" the neediness in his voice made you clench around noting, you core starting to leak again.

"Why don't you teach me?" you said so low he almost didn't hear you.

"What do you want me to teach you now?" He said with a cocky smile on his pretty face.

"Teach me how to fuck"

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