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promiscuouscutie · 4 months

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Marking His Territory

Ethan Landry x shy fem. Reader, Ethan being possessive and jealous, HE IS A GHOSTFACE IN THIS, SMUT

Warnings for this part: videotaping, P in V sex, fingering, unprotected but no finishing inside, biting, if you don’t like controlling behavior this isn’t for you

A/N: I’m kinda iffy on this ngl. I think I could’ve dragged it out longer but this was all I came up with. I still hope you enjoy :))

You thought you and Ethan were pretty similar. You both were pretty reserved, and that’s what drew you two together. You found yourself more comfortable around him when it was just the two of you doing assignments together, eventually going on late night walks around campus. You remember the fluttery feeling in your stomach when he held your hand for the first time, pulling you close to his side under the dark sky.

To you, it was like fate! You were always a bit of a romantic, liking the idea that there were strings attached to souls, connecting people with their true match. When he cupped your face and kissed you in your dorm for the first time, you couldn’t imagine being without him. You were nervous to ask him out, but that was okay! He ended up asking you to be his girlfriend the next night and giving you a bouquet of roses.

You and Ethan had gone through the honeymoon phase of your relationship, loving every minute of it. You thought it would last forever, but it didn’t. You started to notice Ethan acting different in the relationship: he was starting to control your life. Well, you wouldn’t put it like that. But anyone who noticed would disagree with your constant efforts to brush it off.

If you didn’t answer his messages right away, he’d blow up your phone. He’d walk you to each of your classes, walk with you to lunch, and come to your dorm to make you dinner as you both worked on assignments. You’d see your friends on the weekends; he never objected to that, unless they were guys. The male friends you had at the beginning of the year had faded from your life because of Ethan’s presence. Well, all except one guy: Lucas.

Lucas was someone you used to be very close to, until Ethan claimed he was into you and wanted to get into your pants.

“Baby you can’t seriously be this naive,” he scoffed. You lifted your head off his shoulder, sitting up in his lap. “What?”

“Lucas wants to fuck you. You realize that, right?”

Now you were the one to scoff. “No he doesn’t. We’re just friends.”

“He doesn’t look at you like he just wants to be friends.” You dart your eyes down to stare at his chest, playing with the buttons on his blue shirt.

“Do you think I’d cheat on you or something?” You asked. His gaze softened and he cupped your face.

“No baby no. I know you’d never do something like that to me. You’re a good girl.” You smiled at the praise, feeling reassured. You kissed his cheek and leaned against his body again, going back to watch the movie. Ethan ran his fingers through your hair, glancing at the incoming messages on your phone. Every single one of them was from Lucas, which made Ethan clench his jaw. At this rate, Ethan was gonna add him to his kill list.

After that conversation, you didn’t talk to Lucas as much. When he’d ask why, you’d say you were just busy and it was nothing personal; he’d believe you, but still push to talk to you. Ethan didn’t like that one bit. He just wanted him to give up and move on, find some other girl to leech on. You were his, no one else’s. His hatred for Lucas only grew, but it reached its peak when he found out he invited you to a study session.

“You’re not going.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re busy. Just tell him that.” You sighed, putting your buttoned-gray sweater over your black tank top. He comes up behind you and hugs you, holding you in place. You sighed, leaning your head against his body.

“Stay here, with me. C’mon baby, forget about Lucas,” he whispered.

“I’m just gonna help him with his project, and then I’ll come back here.” You turned around and put your hands on his shoulders. “Will you wait for me here?” He dragged out a sigh, but eventually nodded. You smiled and kissed his cheek before grabbing your bag with your notes.

When it’s time to say goodbye, you kissed him deeply with an embrace. “I’ll see you later!” Before you could put your hand on the doorknob, he grabbed your hips and held you in place. You could feel his body against you from behind. You could smell the perfume of yours that lingered onto him.

“That’s all you’re gonna give me?” He faked a sad voice. One of his hands snuck under your top and rubbed your lower stomach.

“Ethan,” I let out a breathy laugh. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, placing kisses along your skin.

“Just stay with me. Lucas can fend for himself.”

“Ethan that’s not very nice.”

“Just a few more minutes, please.” His grip on your hip grew tighter. You winced as he bit down on your skin, leaving teeth marks on your neck.

“Ethan!” You wiggled out of his grasp and touched the throbbing mark on your neck. You looked at him in shock; he had never bitten you before. “What’s gotten into you?” You gape at him.

He no longer had his doe eyes. His face had hardened, but his eyes were filled with desire.

The phone in your pocket started to buzz. You took it out and saw Lucas’s contact; he was calling you. Ethan took your phone out of your hand and answered the phone for you.

“Hello?”

“Uh hey! Who’s this?”

“It’s Ethan, her boyfriend.”

“Oh…hey man! I just wanted to check in and see if she was coming over soon. She’s got the notes, so..”

“Oh, well she’s not coming.”

“She’s not?”

“No, she can’t make it.” You had been trying to grab the phone out of his hand, but he was much stronger than you. You groaned every time he pushed you away.

“Are you sure?” Ethan looked at you, noticing your pleading expression. You mouthed the word “please,” making him bite back a sigh.

“You know what? She will be there. Just give her some more time to get ready. Is that cool with you?”

“Yeah! That’s totally fine with—”

“Good talk,” Ethan hung up. You stared at him and held your hand out, waiting for him to give you your phone back. But he doesn’t, not yet. He looked at Lucas’s number, memorizing it in his head. He took your hand and led you back into your room, pushing you onto the bed.

“Ethan I thought you said—”

“I know what I said,” he said as he unbuttoned your pants, “but you have to do something for me.” He yanked your pants off and threw them onto the ground. You closed your legs immediately, feeling the cold air hit your thighs.

“I know I haven’t been very reasonable when it comes to him,” he admitted. He pulled you closer to him by your legs, placing him in between them. He pressed his lips against your skin, leaving those kisses that gave you butterflies.

“All I ask…is that you promise me something.”

“Okay..” you trailed off. You didn’t understand where this was going, even as he moved your thighs further apart. He could see a damp spot on your panties, making his cock twitch.

“Already?” He smirked. You averted your eyes, not wanting to respond. But he could see the blush growing on your cheeks.

He moved your panties to the side and exhaled heavily at the sight of you. He traced his finger down your slit, making you quiver. You laid back on the bedspread, looking at the ceiling as he continued to tease your pussy. He traced circles on your clit, prodded at your hole a few times before pushing the finger inside you. You let out little whimpers and whines, sounds that Ethan enjoyed. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted you to be louder.

What you didn’t know was that he began recording you on his phone, a little homemade video.

“Flip over, on your stomach baby.” You do as you’re told, whining at the loss of his touch. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring out free. He rubbed his tip against your pussy, pushing it inside you for a fleeting second before taking it out.

You would cry out his name, wanting to feel him inside. “I know baby, I know. It’ll be over soon, I swear.” He pushed himself inside, letting out a loud moan as he felt you clench around him.

“Oh my god,” he gritted his teeth. He could barely take the feeling of you around him as he started to move his hips. He could barely handle the sight of you grabbing your sheets, muffling your noises. He grabbed his phone that had sitting on the bed, only recording the sounds you were making. But now, he would capture the sight of you two fucking.

He’d save the video for himself, of course. But he had another plan in mind. He would send the video to Lucas as you left to go to his place. That would send the message to him, and you wouldn’t be the wiser. You’d have no clue, and that was how it would stay.

He truly was capturing gold with his phone. He was fucking you so hard that you couldn’t muffle your moans. You didn’t even care that your neighbors could hear you; you felt phenomenal.

You felt Ethan’s weight on your body, leaning closer to your ear. He wrapped your hair into a ponytail and pulled you closer. “Lucas could never fuck you like this, right?”You shook your head and continued to whine.

“Say it,” he panted.

“N-no! Never! He could never make feel this goo—holy fuck!” Ethan almost dropped his phone as you babbled out those words. He couldn’t contain his excitement; he was ready to cover you in cum.

And that’s exactly what he did: he pulled out so fast and let his cum drip all over your ass, letting it drip down your thighs. That was probably the fastest fuck he had ever had with you; he couldn’t help himself. He let out a breathy laugh as he smacked his cock against your hole a couple times before ending the video.

He’d clean you up, help you out your pants back on, kiss you goodbye, and send you on your way. He’d have the video sent to Lucas before you arrive at his home.

He could only imagine the look on his face.

#scream vi #scream 6 smut #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #corruption kink #possessive #obsessive love #voyerurism

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lovelyiida · 4 months

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ミ★ IMAGINE KATSUKI SECRETLY KNOWING HOW TO SPEAK ENGLISH | once a year, ua hosts a program where rivaling schools in the area are allowed to stay for a month and experience being at one of the most prestigious schools in the country. And your school just so happened to be selected!

[ask based series, don’t be shy!]

you and a selected handful of students were allowed to be apart of class 1-A for the time being. It was almost otherworldly once you walked in. Almost as if you were an alien greeting its foreign counterparts.

From your uniform, to the way you styled yourself—you were obviously a different sight never before seen.

Silently walking over to a random desk, you sit down and look ahead. Trying your hardest to grasp the lecture being spoken in a whole other language. You fought through with incoherent hums and shy nods.

Soon the bell rings and everyone (except your group because you literally have no idea what’s going on) jolts from their seats. Groups of students start to surround you.

Looking at each one you try your hardest to respond to them. From think accents and broken sentences—all you could do was politely nod.

“Leave em’ some space, damn it!”

Looking over, you see a random blonde burst in what you believe was anger. The group of students fade away and begin to innocently heckle your classmates instead.

The blonde walks over to you, looking down he begins to study your frame. Eyes leading from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. He dryly chuckles before speaking “nice shoes.”

Okay, that you could understand.

“Thanks! Like your belt,” you smile at the blonde before he gave you a nod of approval. “Don’t let those losers get so close, some of them do bite.” He says with a playful smirk.

Standing from your seat you chuckle at his words. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” the class watched as the both of you walked out of the room together, curious as to why Katsuki of all people was talking to you.

“So…what’s your name?” You asked.

“Bakugo Katsuki, but just call me Katsuki” he says, with a nod you held out your hand.

“My name is Y/n L/n, nice to meet you” you say with a warm smile. Katsuki reaches out and shakes your hand.

“Don’t get too used to me, you’re only gonna know me for a month” he deadpanned before retracting his hand back into his pocket. You couldn’t help but to scoff at his words.

“A lot can happen in a month, you never know—the universe could’ve led me to you.”

“Yeah, okay.”

What Katsuki didn’t tell you is that he’s been secretly studying English for years since the entrance exam. Kinda because he’s an All Might nerd and wanted to speak English just like him—but I digress…

Katsuki was almost excited that the program was happening. Since he didn’t know how to test out his skills beforehand. And he was also, kinda excited when he met you. Seeing that he didn’t butcher his words like how Denki did when he tried to ask you for your name.

So yeah, a lot can happen in a month.

Katsuki was down.

Okay so, I kinda wanna make this into a thing where you guys can come out with your own scenarios and I can write them out for you!! I’ve been day dreaming about this for a long time and I wanna see it come into fruition. So don’t be shy to ask!!!

— lovelyiida ❤︎︎

TAGLIST:

#lovelyiida #mha headcanons #mha #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha insert #mha fanfiction #bakugo x reader #lovelyiida—katsuki #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugo x reader

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zsupika · 3 months

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Love and Deepspace x Reader

> general relationship headcanons

A/N: I've been in the lnd fandom for a few weeks now and I'm so obsessed of this game. Keep in mind these are just some random things that I have in mind when I think of them in a relationship.

>> My requests are open if you have any ideas!

Characters: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel

Xavier

I imagine him as a very caring boyfriend

He'd listen to what you have to say and whenever you have something that troubles you, try and find a solution

His favorite sleeping position has got to be spooning you with him being the big spoon

He just loves to embrace you and know that you're safe in his arms

While laying like that he loves to breath in your scent

And while you're asleep, he plays with your hair and softly glides his fingers along your skin

It calms him down, especially after aonh day of fighting wanderers

He also likes to go on missions together with he

He won't admit it but whenever you get assigned with a different partner than him, he gets so jealous

He just loves to spend time with you

He's more a listener than a talker

Through the entire year he takes notes on the things that you mentioned you wanted to have

When your birthday comes up he buys all those things for you!!

Although he loves to spoil you on valentines day with flowers, chocolate and lots of kisses, he doesn't really see a point in the day specifically

He buys you flowers every once in a while and doesn't understand why there would have to be a whole day dedicated for it

But if you see it as important, he definitely puts up an effort to make you happy and see a smile on your face

He always blushes when you get him something in return!

He prefers to give, more that receive

He also makes sure that you're nicely relaxed after a mission

While you sit on your chair he might come up from behind and give you a soft shoulder massage and some neck kisses to ease your mind and body

I imagine him to smell like lavender and fresh laundry

His favorite drink has to be iced coffee and water

In winter he'll also drink a hit chocolate with you

He loves to add cute toppings and make it delicious

Zayne

As we all know he's a doctor and always very busy

You see him a lot less than you would the other two boys

He appreciates it when you come to the hospital and visit him on his breaks

You'd remind him to relax and take it easy every once in a while

It makes him smile to know that you care for him so much

Him not being able to see you as much makes him sad, so he tries to make the few dates that you go on extra special

He always consideres your wishes and does whatever you desire

You want to stay home with him and watch a movie? Sure, he'd love to. You want to go out to a fancy restaurant? Yeah, he's down.

He has a hard time expressing his emotions with his words, so he's definitely more of a "actions over words" kinda guy

His love language would equal to "acts of service" and "quality time"

His hugs and kisses feel very intimate, because it's his way of expressing his emotions to you

He adores the fact that you understand him so well and that you respect his boundaries

He's a morning person for sure

He likes black coffee

For you he always makes sure that you're healthy

Whenever you get a little sick, he's always worried about you and tries to prevent it with all that he can

It makes you chuckle how much he can get worked up over a little cold

Once you get better he makes sure that you stay healthy and happy

Rafayel

Starting of with a very basic headcanon but I think he'd paint you

But not in the way in which you might think

He wouldn't only paint full on portraits of you but he'd incorporate you into his art in a very different way

He'd draw the landscape of your favorite places

He would use your eye color as the background color of a beautiful still-life

You being around him would inspire him to draw freely without any restrictions

Your laugh would make him move his brush in the same rhythm

Sometimes he'd let you help him with a painting

He also loves to go and search for different ways to create paint with you and look for ingredients

I think even though he's very sassy and bold most of the time, when it comes to intimate moments he'd be rather shy

He blushes a lot!

And definitely has a hard time keeping eye contact with you in those moments

His kisses are more soft and caring than you might think at first

In my eyes he'd be the furthest thing from rough in any intimate situations

He holds you as if you were a fragile piece of glass that could break at any second

He feels like you're the only one who he can let his emotions out on, without feeling judged

Loves sleeping on top of you like a weighted blanket

Slightly snores but not very loud

It's more of a heavier breathing

As we know he's very ticklish

When you two are playfighting you can definitely take advantage of that

He'll be a whining and whimpering mess

Do with that what you want

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star-girl69 · 4 months

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imagine the little family but reader gets hit on by one of the new campers and the rest of the camp is waiting to see ivy and clarisse reaction 🌚

I LOVE THIS OMMGGGGGG

no bc this is specifically so funny and dear to me bc imagine

you’re like sitting with ivy and playing in the sand on the beach having a fun time

and then hi harry from better than revenge in an alternate universe

clarisse has been so busy lately bc it’s the start of summer and there’s all these new campers and things

so you haven’t been around each other as much 💔

dumbass harry walks over to you and is like “it’s so sweet how you treat your younger sibling like your own”

and ivy is preening at the attention of this nice boy who quickly realizes the way to your heart is through ivy

you just think he’s nice and playing with ivy in the sand and making a killer sand castle tbh….

then he says smth a little flirty like a compliment but neither you or ivy think much of it at first

then he’s like “oh hey here you have some sand on your face” and leans so close to you to brush your cheek with his thumb

woah buddy 😟😟😟😟😟

ivy is like ok what the freak (she’s not supposed to swear) (let’s be real she still does)

bc like she’s not dumb….. she knows the only person who touches you like this is clarisse and yeah this guy is nice but she doesn’t like him THAT much

he doesn’t look that strong he can’t be her jungle gym she’s not liking it

you’re sitting there in shock and ivy is getting mad bc HE SHUFFLES CLOSER TO YOU

she climbs into your lap and starts SCREAMING bloody murder and kicking out wildly at harry

“Y/N I WANT TO GO Y/N I WANT TO GO I WANT TO GO I WANT TO GO”

so you pick her up and rush your little butts out of there and harry is trying to follow you bc THIS BITCH WILL NOT GIVE UP DAMN

and you’re looking over your shoulder like GO AWAY

after another second you think he’s gone so you set ivy down

you crouch down and you’re pretty sure she just didn’t like harry flirting w you but you just wanna make sure smth wasn’t actually wrong

“hey are you guys okay?”

“RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” is ivy’s war cry as she jumps on top of harry and starts screaming and kicking and hitting him

AND YOURE SCREAMING TOO BC WTF??????

“IVY YOU GET DOWN RIGHT NOW NO DESSERT FOR THREE DAYS I SWEAR”

eventually everyone kinda heads towards the commotion of this 10 year old screaming and attacking harry and you desperately trying to pull ivy off of him

that is when clarisse walks over

she just stares at the scene for a second in absolute shock

then harry finally pushes ivy off of him and she FLIES into you like he pushed her HARD bc he’s a BITCH

and you weren’t expecting it so you fall back w ivy in your arms

CLARISSE IS ABOUT TO GO INSANE

she runs over but harry is like NO NO NO MY CHANCES ARE RUINED

so he’s desperately trying to help you up and you’re like oh my god i think i’m gonna die

ivy starts attacking him like a feral dog again

“YOU- HURT- MY- Y/N- STUPID HEAD!!!!!!!”

you need a leash for her atp

but by the time clarisse makes it over to you she realizes what’s going on

she crouches down next to you and says ivy’s name really intimidatingly and ivy is like

“OMG HI CLARISSE I LITERALLY SAVED Y/N’S LIFE ARENT YOU PROUD OF ME”

and after she looks over you and sees that your find just a little shocked and very tired (motherhood is hard) she decides to glare at harry

“okay and what does that mean?”

“ok so we were playing in the sand and then harry comes over and he’s nice and he’s helping me build my sandcastle and then he starts TOUCHING Y/N and getting all CLOSE TO HER and i was like woah wait hold on what the freak so then i threw a tantrum so we would leave BUT HE KEPT FOLLOWING!!!!!!! I JUST WANTED HIM TO GO AWAY BC YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO TOUCHES Y/N LIKE THAT SO I ATTACKED HIM AND THEN HE PUSHED ME SO I ATTACKED HIM MORE BUT NOW YOURE HERE!!!!!!”

harry is just horrified bc that’s exactly what happened this child was just throwing a tantrum 5 minutes ago how is she so articulated

she’s just smart like that tho

clarisse is like “oh so you’re flirting with my girlfriend? are you dumb? literally everyone knows.”

harry just accepts defeat and mutters a few choice words under his breath and walks away

clarisse debates about punching him but decides that ivy has already done all of the work for her

ivy hugs clarisse so tight

“you are so amazing my little warrior you did such a great job protecting y/n i am so proud”

then you join the hug “yes you’re my little knight in shining armor but please remember violence is not always the answer”

ivy and clarisse share a look like “this crazy lady just be saying stuff”

“EXCUSE ME???? BC I KNOW YOU TWO DIDNT JUST LOOK AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT-”

you try to actually make ivy skip dessert for a few days but she’s so adorable so you give it to her anyways

clarisse teaches her how to properly throw a punch and kick someone

you are not pleased

ivy is ecstatic her new passion is fighting

harry stays far away from you

also percy is now campaigning to bring awareness to the clarisse and mini clarisse epidemic

he is very concerned.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #clarisse and ivy and y/n: the perfect family

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mikareo · 6 months

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⌗ TWO SLOW DANCERS ₊ ˖ ་. gojo satoru x fem reader (1.2k)

⊹ ⠀⠀why doesn’t he love you?

contains; angst, rejection, reader just wants to be loved, gojo's kinda a dick, mitski did this to me, not proofread author's note; i'm thinking abt the guy who didn't want me rn sorry

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur, your voice nothing above a faint whisper. Fear of judgment is laced within it, something you can’t help but wish you could get rid of. “It’s going to sound ridiculous, and if you think so you can just ignore me.” He’s going to ignore you.

However, Gojo sits up straighter. His eyes are intending to focus on you. “Nothing you say is ridiculous. I’m always here to listen.” You want to believe him so badly. There’s nothing else in the world that you wish for. All you need is a confession, him reciprocating the depth of your feelings, but you know that’s impossible. If he felt the same, he wouldn’t have started seeing that girl; no matter the fact that she’s wonderful for him, amazing, and kind. If she’s so amazing, what are you doing wrong? What is it about her that you can’t compare to? You know you’d be perfect for Gojo. He’s your best friend. He’s the person who knows you better than anyone, so why is it that he doesn’t love you the same way you love him? It doesn’t make sense.

What are you doing wrong?

“...am I difficult to love?” You feel like you already know the answer. It’s a pointless question that’s been eating you up inside for years, ever since you first met and he instantly treated you as a friend when you wanted to be loved by him. “I know it’s silly, but I feel so helpless.”

Without realizing it, your words flow from your lips like a river streaming downhill. Not even the largest dam could hold in your insecurities. “I try so hard, everyday to be kind and patient and perfect; but no one seems to notice. Is there something that everyone else has that I don’t? What am I missing that makes me invisible? Why do I feel so stuck while the world keeps moving and progressing and making changes that I can’t keep up with? Why don’t you love me?”

There it is.

There’s the question that you’ve swallowed down for the past ten years of knowing Gojo Satoru…and somehow…

…it seems that he already knows the answer.

“I do love you.”

In half a second, your heart beats faster. It swells with an overwhelming pink feeling that practically causes it to burst. You almost see stars. In your imagination you’re flying through the night sky, weaving constellations together as you hold Gojo’s hand and ask him what he’s wishing on that shooting star, oh so close to you. So close, yet so far. So far, that it never reaches you; because nothing is ever as it seems. It isn’t a wish racing your way, it’s a meteorite. A meteor thats target is the home in your heart that you’ve made so lovingly for your best friend. The flaming rock finds your weakest point and begins to wither it away into nothing but hopeless shreds of dreams. In a half a second, you’re on the top of the world. In a half a second, your world is destroyed.

“I just don’t love you in the way you want me to.”

You’re a fool. You knew this was coming.

“I can’t imagine my life without you.” Shut up. Why can’t he just shut up? You don’t need these filler words, these empty statements that he’s only saying to make you feel better about your worthless self. “You’re such an important part of my everyday.” Shut up!

It’s so hard to hold in the tears. Your dam already burst— but instead of a river, it seems that you’ve got an ocean of feelings. This ocean is polluted, though. It’s littered in trash and oil, after years of wanting something that was never yours. Other men have thrown their waste in your waters and Gojo’s always been the one to clean it up. He’s always made you laugh…made you smile…made you believe that everything is going to be okay as long as you trust him. Now, you’ve made the mistake of trusting him with your heart; when he’s never cared if it shatters.

“Please don’t say those things to me.” It’s pathetic, the whimper shaking from the tip of your tongue. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Gojo isn’t even replying to you. He’s simply staring with the most pitiful look in his eyes, as if you’re a dying animal that he’s just shot with a rifle. How do you make him stop looking at you like that? You’re better than this! Just suck it up and smile!

Somehow, you find yourself laughing. “Don’t worry about it, Satoru. I’ll be fine, it’s just a silly little crush.” You’re lying.

It’s so obvious you’re lying.

He’s never been a crush. If he was a fleeting crush, then you wouldn’t spend your nights thinking of how you made him smile earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know his favorite place, song, and movie at the top of your head. You wouldn’t imagine his face whenever you picture your wedding day— at the end of the aisle, smiling at you with tears in his eyes. If he was just a little crush, it wouldn’t feel like your entire world is ending.

“I know you’ve liked me, it’s a little obvious.” He shrugs. “I just assumed you’d get over it?”

He knew? He’s known all this time?

There’s a war raging between your heart and your mind. It’s a battlefield with logic on one side and love on the other. The rational part of you knows that he can’t help his feelings. He can’t force himself to reciprocate something that he’s never felt before. That’s unfair to him, and you can’t make him love you…

…but the other half of you can’t accept that.

After all these years of waiting for him. Years and years of watching your closest friends find love, be loved, and experience all of the firsts that you’ve always wanted to experience with him by your side. He doesn’t love you. You’ve known Gojo Satoru since you were ten years old. You’re twenty now and still so delusional that you believe he can feel the same way. Why can’t he, though? Gojo knows you from front to back. If there’s anyone in the world who could write an encyclopedia titled with your name, it’s him; and he still doesn’t love you. You’re the person who’s been there for him through countless breakups and temper tantrums. You’re the one who he trusts most in this world, yet he will never…ever…want you back.

Someone is writing the story of the world. Someone is tying the strings of fate, the line of destiny, or whatever you want to call it; and that someone isn’t on your side. They never have been and they never will be…

…at least not in the case of Gojo Satoru.

“I’ll try my best.” A phony smile graces your face and you’re now realizing that he’s never once called you beautiful. Yet, you still want him. Perhaps it’s human nature to wish for the things that are terrible for you. “You don’t have to worry about me, Satoru. I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, maybe in ten years.

“I’ll be able to forget about this.”

You don’t think you will.

“I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

Your feelings are an inconvenience.

“It’s nothing.”

It was love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

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bluecollarmcandtf · 3 months

Text

My Found Family

I never grew up with the luxury of family. As an orphan, my childhood was lacking to say the least, and it left me jealous of any kid with caring fathers and siblings. That's why I had to find my family. Nobody's perfect, but with a little reconditioning, I've trained them to be exactly what I was looking for.

This guy is now my father...

"Breakfast is ready, boys!" I call, using my lower register like I'm supposed to, "Whoops! I mean bacon-fest!"

Guttural laughter comes from my stomach even though I don't find my joke that funny. Bad jokes like this have sort of become my personality lately. In fact, my whole life has transformed over the last couple days. A week ago, I would've never imagined myself strolling around my house in nothing but underwear and a robe! My standards for style seem to have vanished along with pretty much every other part of my old way of being.

It happened three days ago at a grocery store, when I ran into this guy in the produce section. He caught me examining avocados for ripeness and walked right up, beginning to talk like we'd known each other for years.

It was all a bit bizarre, but I found myself unable to turn away. He was explaining my life to myself. Well, not my life, but the one he wanted me to live, the one I was meant to live, and I hung on his every word. He was maybe six years younger than myself, but I was to be his new daddy. It was a role I was proud to fill.

"Here you are, son," I grin widely, unable to contain the feelings of pride I have as he walks into the room.

"Thanks, old man," he answers and grabs the plate gratefully.

For a moment, I stand there and stare. My heart beats for my boy as he tears apart the food I made for him. My paternal instincts have been working overtime lately. I can't help but love that boy with every fatherly fiber of my being.

It doesn't matter that I never wanted kids before. Previously, I'd wanted to remain a bachelor forever, but I have them now, and it couldn't feel more perfect.

With a content grin, I turn back to the sizzling bacon and think about my day. Things I used to hate were now what I looked forward to; mowing the lawn, washing the car, cleaning the gutters. I have a full day of work ahead of me to keep this house in tip top shape. Of course, I'll do it all with an ice cold beer in my hand. I never had a taste for the stuff, but my boy thinks I should grow a bit more of a gut.

I know what I say goes around here, but I could never say no to my favorite son...

I obviously have dad wrapped around my finger, but he's not the only member of this family. This next dude is my new big bro...

"Fuck yeah," I grunt and sniff up the ripe stench under my arm, "Smells like a real fuckin' man!"

I toss the barbell down, finishing a new personal record on the bench press and I couldn't feel more pumped. My tank top and sweat pants are drenched with sweat, but I love bein' a nasty gym rat: at least, I do now.

A week ago I was waiting tables at this fancy restaurant, when one of the customers got to talking with me. He was sitting alone and looked kinda sad, so I tried to be friendly and I'm sure glad I did! I got a whole new family out of it. He made me quit my job and move into this sweet place. Now I'm his big brother!

Of course, like all big bro's, I'm supposed to work out in the garage all day. I was never one for weights, but I couldn't imagine my life without them anymore. I like to push my limits and get all hot and sweaty. Then I march around the house flexing and farting all over the place. It's not the most refined thing in the world, but my bro explained to me how much I don't care about hygiene and all that crap.

"Wassup, little man," I call as he saunters in.

"Nothing much," he answers, staring at my arms while I show off my biceps.

"Alright, get out of my space. I'm tryin' to work out," I snarl, acting as tough as possible, "Do I need to wrestle you again to prove my point?"

I definitely didn't used to be like this. I used to be the most polite and approachable guy in the world, always chatting random people up, but that guy's gone. My bro got rid of him and his old family. This new family is the only one I'm interested in now, even if I'm not supposed to show it. I'm supposed to be muscular, rude, and gross. It's who I am now.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it," he replies, "You can wrestle me though."

"I will," I frown, flexing even harder, "And this time, I'll win!"

Whenever we wrestle, I always end up with the urge to let him win. It sucks because I could easily beat him, and I should put him in his place, but for some reason, I just know I have to let him win. He just deserves it I guess.

I give him an intense glare and then return to my weights. These arms aren't going to pump themselves...

My big bro always makes my legs quiver, but I love seeing how cocky he can get. Of course, he'll never out wrestle me no matter how big he gets. I programmed him to let me win. Just like I programmed the breadwinner of the bunch...

A short groan rumbles from my lips. For some reason, everything has been disappointing me lately: my sons, my husband, my job has all been leaving me grumpy and frustrated. Even the channels on the TV aggravate the living hell out of me. I have to fight the urge to chuck the remote across the room.

"How was your day, honey," my husband asks, walking into the room and handing me a beer.

"Great," I moan without any emotion.

Everything's been changing so fast lately, and I couldn't be more over it. I was married to my work, busting ass for years to get promotion after promotion, and I had a job I loved that paid extremely well. I couldn't be more happy, even if I was the only unmarried guy in the office. I didn't mind. I loved my bowling league and my solo trips to Vegas too much to settle down.

Then I met him, my son. Well, he wasn't my son at the time, but after talking, I quickly realized who he was and who I was to him. I'm the head of the household, the disciplinarian, the breadwinner. At least, that's who I've become.

"What's for dinner?" I grunt, peeling my eyes away from the TV.

Looking at my husband, odd feelings bubble up. I used to know him as my neighbor, a nice enough guy, but now I'm married to him. It all happened so fast. He's changed too recently, I think. The guy I knew a week ago would've never walked around all day in a robe and underwear.

His hand reaches out and holds my own, "Steak and potatoes if that's alright with you."

I grunt in agreement, turning back to the TV. My husband's presence stirs my cock to life, straining my member against my work slacks.

This is another new development.

Until now, I'd never had a gay bone in my body. In some ways, I still don't, but my son explained how I should feel about my husband. I should love him, I should be turned on by him, and I should get it on with him. He's right, I suppose.

"Hey, I could use a blow job before you get cooking," I gesture to the thick tent in my pants.

My husband pauses for a moment like he's unsure of what to do, but then it comes to him, "Of course, babe, but we need to be quiet. Both of our boys are home right now."

"Don't worry about it. If they walk in without knocking they'll get the belt," I snort as my husband gets on his knees in front of me.

"You shouldn't be so hard on-" before he can finish, I've shoved his face into my crotch.

Somehow, I know I can be rough with him, just like I can be rough with our sons. I'm the man of the house after all. Within seconds I'm grunting in pleasure while staring at the evening news broadcast. For some reason, I always find myself watching it and complaining about current events. It's just who I am now..

I grin, sneaking a peak at my two dad's going at it in the living room like the good little couple they are. My new family couldn't be more perfect, but no family is complete without the dog...

"Ruff!" I bark, gleefully scampering over to the bowl of food that was just placed on the floor.

Without hesitating, I shove my face into the bowl, sending the little pellets flying everywhere. They taste like cardboard, but for some reason, I can't get enough of them! I've done nothing but drool and whine for the last hour while the real humans eat their dinner at the table.

"That's a good boy," a voice coos, and I feel fingers running through the hair on my head.

I can barely acknowledge being petted. I know I'm supposed to act like a hungry animal right now, so that's what I do.

I would've never thought I'd find myself as a house pet, but a couple days ago, this guy just walked up to me and talked me into it. It'd just been a normal day for me, working at the car garage when he became my master. I knew right there and then that I had to drop to my hands and knees and follow him home with my tongue out.

My new life has been great ever since. My masters play ball with me outside, they hose me down when I get muddy, and they snuggle with me on the couch at night. I barely even miss my old work and fiance!

"Alright, boy," one of my master's commands, "That's enough. Get in here!"

It's the mean one. The one who used to own this house, but is now just a working dad. He's always the one who hits me with a newspaper when I drink from the toilet. I don't know why, but I just feel compelled to do it!

Licking the bowl clean, I abandon it and crawl into the living room. There, the entire family is gathered around the television.

I stop by the smelly one and sneak in a few licks. I love licking him because he's always salty with sweat and smells funny. After licking his feet for too long, he kicks me away, "Leave me alone, mutt!"

"Oh don't talk to him that way," the nice one adds.

I climb on the couch and curl up beside him. His belly is always the perfect cushion for my head to rest on, and he always lets me lick his beer bottle when he's done. Within a couple minutes, I'm drifting off as his hands absently play with my hair...

...sitting with my family at night is always my favorite part. Watching TV with my two dads, brother, and dog heals the child in me that had always yearned for this. Sure, it might be easier to just go to therapy, but this is sure as hell a lot more fun!

#gay hypnosis #gay mind control #mind control #hypnotized #hypno story #gay ai art #male transformation

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90ekz · 5 months

Text

JJK MENS’ FAVORITE SEX THINGS x1

- feat… satoru, toji, todo, higuruma.

- cont… nsfw, very poor dirty talk (someone teach me how to write ts PLEASE), black!fem!reader, typical dom/sub dynamics, sassy men, established relationships, ts nastyyyyy.

- an… ik this is a kinda random bunch, but i wanted to include some underrated men in here !! pt 2 will be up soon with the favs, don’t worry ;)

GOJO SATORU & FINGERING

this man right here… menace to society.

something about massaging your swollen clit with his thumb while he abuses your g-spot with his three fingers of choice is his favorite thing in the world !!!

using his hands during sex in general is a go-to, he knows exactly what it does to you too mmhm.

something about the way you seem to fall apart so much quicker when he uses his hands, watching so intently as he uses his other to press down on your stomach cs it overstims you :(( hes mean i fear

“mm, yeah? that’s that spot right there baby?”

and GOD FORBID you start complaining about how it’s too much, his lil dumbass is smirking and massaging even deeper while tears start to flow down your warm cheeks. asshole vibes 🙄

“awww you cryin’? such a big girl, i know you can give me one more..”

AOI TODO & TIT-FUCKING

to clarify, he didn’t even know you could do this LMFAO

he’d been eyeing your plush chest all night, the top of your dark areolas peaking above your lounging tank. you being you, you were very aware of this fact, and you indulged him. hugging him from behind, “dropping something down your shirt” and asking him to check for it, all the cliches. that man was blushing bhaddd.

eventually he got so needy and asked you to fuck him like a loser :((

so imagine his surprise when you wet his cock with saliva and begin to massage it between your tits, all the while asking him to tell you how it feels. you pushed your boobs together to tighten around him, not at all missing how his breath stuttered in his chest. that man was starstruck and had to hold back his nut fr :/

“ouuu shit—make that dick cum mama…”

now everytime you wear those low cut shirts around your apartment, hes pulling himself out half mast and slapping it on your plush skin, silently demanding.

TOJI FUSHIGURO & BACKSHOTS

do not get me starteddddd.

he adores watching you come back and grind against his dick, meeting him in the middle. the jiggle of your ass is enough to make him drool with a maniacal smile set on his face.

he’s constantly spilling a mix of praise and degradation, how you’re “such a good slut,” and such. he’ll even let you suck on his fingers if he’s gracious.

he’ll yank up any hairstyle you have at the moment and pound into you even deeper. one hand in your hair, another pressing your arch down to his satisfaction. sometimes if he’s feeling sadistic, he’ll won’t move at all and just admire your rhythm against his cock.

“that’s it, there’s my girl… work for that nut.”

as much as you love toji, your hairstylist does not admire him as much as you do. her personal beef has gone on for the entire 2 year length of your relationship that he’s been fuckin’ up lace glue, pulling out braids, unraveling locs, and frizzing up twists, and she has to be the one to fix ‘em… poor girl :/

HIRUMI HIGURUMA & FACE-SITTING

#1 munch award goes to:

you were being very wary about this, considering it isn’t exactly the safest thing to put all of your weight on top of someone’s face and neck but… he hates breathing apparently ??

you feel his rare smile against your sopping wet hole, and his nose bumping against your clit as you grind rhythmically. his nails print crescents into your thighs and he keeps you in place, and he thinks he could die happy right here.

your slick is dripping down his chin, and his dick is so, so stiff. it’s uncanny how committed he is to this, almost like it’s a job—a duty—to please you.

it’s only when you pull away to let him breathe (a notion that he already established that he didn’t need to do) is his smile replaced with a slight scowl, and he’s mumbling into your thighs for you to keep going.

“get back up here, ‘m not done.”

like ok you suicidal freak ??

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zanarkandskylines · 1 month

Note

Okay I’m back I’m sorry your writing is like cocaine to me idk you’re awesome-

Bakugou x reader where they’re on a mission and it involves a teams of heroes to dress up like Dynamight to confuse the enemy??? Just like Bakugou’s reaction to seeing his girlfriend decked out in his gear like 😭😭😭

but like picture like reader trying to fit Bakugou into a version of her costume too-

Ohkay I’m going even further now- Bakugou and reader wearing formal wear modeled after each other at a Hero’s gala to debut their relationship to the world???? I can just imagine after the mission they just really like wearing each other’s stuff-

Anyways you’re amazing have an amazing day!!

I’m so so sorry this took me so long to get to! You’re the sweetest!! 🥰 thank you so much for rec and coming back! I’ve enjoyed the ideas you’ve suggested so much and hope you like this one. 💖✨

Substitute Gear

『 ♡』 k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | lovers (bf/gf) ꒱ ⇢ bakugo and reader are joking around in their apartment one night when they decide to try on each others costumes! this leads to a fun inspiration for the upcoming hero gala as their agencies recommend for them to reveal their relationship officially. Why not do it in style?

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ no cw minus cursing | fun & fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~1.1k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

“Ugh, what an ugly shift,” you complain as you’re walking through the front door of your apartment. You’re kicking off your dirty boots in the entryway when Katsuki comes to greet you.

“Long day?” He asks, analyzing how filthy your hero suit is. It doesn’t stop him from giving you a light peck on the lips to welcome you home.

“More like what didn’t happen today. A kid threw up on me, and when I washed that off, some asshole bled all over me when I cuffed him! To top it all off, I tripped and fell into the mud while in pursuit of a robbery. Head first!”

As you’re rattling off the laundry list of shitty things that happened during the day, Katsuki’s silently instructing you to take the suit off. He spins you around, unzipping the neck piece and carefully removing all of your components and accessories.

“I broke my damn helmet in that fall,” you groan, wiping dried dirt from your cheek.

“Better than your head, dumbass,” Katsuki counters. “Ya got extras, no use cryin’ over one of ‘em.”

You shimmy the suit off of your shoulders and pull out of the material one limb at a time.

“You’d think as heroes, there’d be a professional laundry service or something,” you complain, letting your suit crumple on the floor. It comically puffs out a dried cloud of grime.

Katsuki stifles a laugh. “Weird way of sayin’ I do all your laundry. Get your ass in the shower, you reek.” He smacks your barely-covered ass to get you moving, continuing to snicker to himself as you waddle down the hallway.

───

After a long and hot shower, you emerge from the bathroom with a dramatic haze of steam following you.

“Ya done yet, peach? Dinners done,” Katsuki calls from the kitchen, dishes clattering as he’s prepping plates for the two of you. You scamper down the hall to meet him in the kitchen, a delicious aroma filling your senses when you approach the stove. He hands you one of the plates of beef and peppers stacked high on a bed of rice.

“Mmm, you even made me extra peppers!” You chirp, flashing him a cheesy smile. He grins in response and slips past you to sit on the couch.

The news channel is droning in the background during dinner, the news anchors excitedly discussing the upcoming annual Hero Gala - the glitz and glamour side of it, anyways. The Gala itself is an enormous event to celebrate Japan’s hero society and to announce the year’s hero ranking; however, everyone treats it as one extravagant event, red carpet and all.

“I’ve never been to the gala before,” you say before taking another mouthful of rice. “I never qualified to attend until this year. I’m kinda nervous to be…debuting us, if I’m being honest.”

Your agencies had caught wind of your relationship - rather, Katsuki’s assistant accidentally caught you two kissing in his office - and wanted to use you as an opportunity to introduce the “new hottest hero couple.” Agencies care about appearances and tabloid drama just as much as actual hero work. What's hotter than a top hero dating a lower - much lower - ranked hero?

The gala is in two weeks and the two of you haven't settled on what to do about it.

“Th’ agencies wanting to use us as an attention grab is fuckin’ stupid," Katsuki mumbles, brows scrunched in frustration. "Who gives a shit who we're dating? Doesn't affect my ability ta do my job."

He had a point, of course, but that didn't make you any less nervous about it. You were being pressured to have an extremely public date and let "fans" know that Dynamight was off the market. The thought of fans metaphorically bashing your head in wasn't ideal, but whatever gets "ratings," right?

"We might as well just show up in each others' costumes," you joke, rolling your eyes as the news anchor shifts topics to the latest update on another nonsense story.

"That's...not a bad idea!" He shouts, putting his plate on the coffee table and excitedly jogging down the hall to the bedroom. "Where's your backup suit?"

"In the closet, why? There's no way your muscular ass is getting in that tight suit."

"No, dumbass! C'mere!"

You place your plate next to his and get up from the couch, waltzing to the bedroom to see what he's on about. Both your hero suit and his are laying on the bed next to each other.

"What if we swapped colors?" He asked, pointing to the suit designs. "You wear mine and I wear yours. That'll give the media somethin' to yap about."

That's actually...a brilliant idea! The media would absolutely eat up the "bad boy" Dynamight strutting into the gala with his partner's color pallet, especially because your colors were pinks and purples.

You raise an eyebrow to him, smirking as you begin to imagine him in a sharp pink and purple suit. "You do look good in pink, the few times you've worn it."

Katsuki cackles and winks at you. "Course I do, I make anythin' look good."

He immediately calls his agency to request the garments - they agreed wholeheartedly and offered to fund both outfits.

───

The night of the gala has finally arrived! There are plenty of news crews from all channels present, huddled around the main red carpet entrance. The scene is bedazzled with flashing camera lights, the shutter sounds of multiple cameras capturing photos in tandem. Your complimentary custom outfits are pristine and Katsuki's hand is in yours as the limo pulls up to the gateway, giving you a soft squeeze to gather your attention.

"It'll be fine, sweets. Jus' follow my lead, 'kay?"

You nod while taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. "Thanks babe."

The limo attendant outside skips to the door, opening it for the two of you and ushering you to the entrance. You're both standing in line behind other heroes awaiting their turn to enter the building, attention already building in your direction. A few minutes go by before one of the hosts motions for the two of you to proceed to the entrance.

Your heart is racing, threatening to burst right through your ribcage as the hot spotlights are covering the two of you. Cameras are flashing rapidly, waves of unintelligible shouting invading your senses - "Dynamight! Over here, look this way!" "Just one this way, you two!" "To the left, please!"

Katsuki's jaw is tense as his eyes are roaming around to satisfy multiple camera men, the resting glare he normally sports on patrol adoring his features. Your attempting to keep a soft smile, posing and waving gently. Suddenly, you're tugged into Katsuki's side, his hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his personal space. He spins you to face him, cupping your chin and dipping you backwards as his lips grace your own, holding you in place.

The world around explodes with surprise, the peanut gallery clamoring with questions about the two of you - "Are you two an item?" "Oh! A higher ranked hero and a brand new one!" "What a scandalous amount of PDA!"

When you part, he pulls you back to his side and keeps his hand on your waist while the two of you continue into the gala together. The paparazzi outside are tailing the two of you as they're stopped at the door, shouting for answers as he flips them off over his head.

"Told ya it'd be fine. Now let's fuckin' eat and enjoy the damn night."

thanks again for the suggestion @queenpiranhadon ! ✨

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #my hero academia #☆.from the stars #☆.rei writes

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lovelettersforthedamned · 5 months

Note

Okk hear me out differently peter parker reading bed time stories to your twin daughters and when they go to sleep your all over peter telling him how amazing he is and ride himm-

World’s Best Dad

--genre + trope: SMUT, FLUFF, dad!peter, husband!peter.

--pairing: dad!tasm!peter parker x mom!reader

--word count: 1.3k

--warnings: no foreplay (reader and peter are HORNY), unprotected sex (don't even think about it), PinV, creampie, kinda sub!peter, PETER LOVES HIS WIFE, mentions of kids, fluffy as hell.

Your evenings look different now that your daughters, Aaliyah and Ida, aren’t in diapers anymore. Dinner as a family isn’t full of screams and cries, bathtime is suddenly fun with the toys you’ve collected over the years, and bedtime stories are actually read. Walking down the hallway of your apartment, you see your two girls run across with wet feet and a towel wrapped around their small silhouette, followed by your husband picking up their clothes from the day into the hamper. Your eyes meet for a split second as he crosses your path through the doorway, “Do you want me to clean up dinner?”

“No it’s alright,” you wave him off, “I think they want you to read them a story tonight, they were practically pleading for a book on the way home from school today.”

A chuckle leaves his lips as you turn around to start the dishes when you feel a hand gently grasp your upper arm, stopping you in his tracks. Turning back around to face your husband, you've met with his wickedly sharp, yet warm gaze. Looking down at your lips, you know exactly what he wants, and it’s confirmed when he brings a hand to the side of your face and guides you into a deep kiss.

A few quick pecks later, the sound of your girls giggling in their room interrupts you, “I love you, Pete.”

Peter places one last kiss on your forehead as he speaks, mumbling into your skin, “I love you too, bug.” As you finally part ways, Peter can’t help but look back at you as you walk back to the kitchen. Never in a million years would he know that this would be his life, and yet he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

It didn’t take too long for you to finish up in the kitchen, checking the time before you leave, the girls should be in bed by now. You walk towards their room, and the sight in front of you almost brings tears to your eyes. Peter was on the reclining chair with a book in his hands, and your daughters sitting on either side of him, trying their hardest to stay awake.

You don’t fully enter the room until you know the twins have fallen asleep, not wanting to wake them further. Once Peter closes the book, you walk in quietly, your presence putting a smile on his face. Without saying anything, you take Ida while Peter takes Aaliyah into his arms. Leaning down to place Ida into bed and tucking her in, you kiss her forehead as you walk towards the door, Peter slowly following. You turn off the lights and softly close the door, leaving a crack open.

Wordlessly, you both walk towards your room, Peter’s arm lazily falling on top of your shoulders. Peter’s the first one to enter the room, unaware of you closing and locking the door behind you. Like every other night, he sits on the edge of the bed and starts to unwind, but tonight you had a different plan. Swiftly walking over to him, you stand in between his legs and lean down to plant a passionate kiss on his lips.

The kiss progressively turns more and more passionate, his hands finding their way onto your hips, clawing at the clothed skin, desperately trying to feel you. Without pulling away, you bring your knees up to straddle his legs, the new position allowing Peter to feel more of you. Grinding slowly on him, makes him pull away from your kiss to look up at you, his eyes glazed over as he admires you in this state.

“Please Peter,” you whine, “take off your clothes…please.”

Climbing off of him, you both undress with haste. You both know that neither of you needs any preparation for this, there’s an unspoken decision that you both need this right now, Peter might not know why, but who is he to turn you down? Wasting no time, you straddle him once again, the heat radiating off of your core makes Peter ache with need.

Sinking down, you sigh with relief and pleasure, the feeling making you close your eyes and slowly throw your head back. You savor the moment as you open your eyes to look down at your husband, the sight of him making you clench around him. Still looking at him, you place your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance while you pick up the pace. His eyes are hooded, he’s too blissed out to focus on anything but the feeling you’re giving him.

His heart rate picks up as you lean down to kiss him, a soft peck placed delicately on his lips. “Fuck Peter, do you know how fucking hot you look taking care of our family? You are such an amazing and caring man, I’m so lucky,” praise flows out of your mouth, and all Peter can do is stare up at you, unable to respond in a coherent sentence. But you don’t stop there, “And you feel so good, baby. You make me feel so good.”

Peter lives and breathes to make you feel good, he’s always known that ever since you first started dating. He not only knew that he loved to make you feel good, but he also knew how. So every time you tell him that he makes you feel good, he can’t get enough of it. The thought of you cumming to him makes him writhe in pleasure.

“Baby, baby, baby…” Peter mumbles, he’s getting close.

You hold his face in your hands, forcing him to look back up at you, “You gonna cum for me baby? Yeah? Good, because I’m so close Peter.”

He finishes inside you before you can say another word, the increasing pressure causing you to cum as well. Peter is grabbing onto your hips as he rides through his high, bruises are for sure going to be there in the morning.

After slowly coming down, you move to get off of Peter, but your legs stop you before you can take a step. Shakes riddle your muscles, exhaustion weighing on your body. Peter immediately notices your weak figure trying to move, the position now becoming uncomfortable. He wraps his arms under your thighs and stands, picking you up in the process.

You’re limp in his arms as he carries you to the other side of the bed, softly placing you down on the sheets. You quickly sink into them, the fabric cool to the touch. All you can do is sigh, a warm state of bliss washing over your mind. The bed dips as Peter settles himself into bed next to you, a warm hand holding your face as your eyes flutter open, “I meant what I said by the way.”

A stupid grin litters his face, “Yeah, I knew you came. I felt it.”

You giggle and slightly smack his arm, “You’re so stupid…”

He laughs at your response, and the sound of your quiet giggles fills the space. “I love you, bug…so much.”

“I love you,” you hold the back of the hand that’s holding your face, “thank you for being the best husband, and the best dad the girls could ever ask for.”

Peter studies your face, before pulling you in for what seemed like the thousandth kiss of the night, but you’re not complaining. There’s no hint for more in this kiss, he just kissed you to kiss you; to show how much he loves you.

In the morning, you’ll wake up and do everything again, well, maybe not ride your husband until you physically can’t walk, but your day will bring you another sense of bliss. The city’s sounds along with the sun will wake the girls up, Peter will make breakfast, you’ll walk to the park, and Peter will probably read another bedtime story.

--author's note: I'M BACK! hey guys long time no see:) had a blast writing this because i have the most intense baby fever rn, and i love picturing having a family with peter...GUYS KEEP SENDING IN REQUESTS!!!! I LOVE THEM AND I'M WORKING THROUGH THEM RIGHT NOW. please keep showing your writers love by liking, commenting, and reblogging (we love to see that YOU love our stuff). ok, bye ILY!!

#andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker #fluff #marvel #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker smut

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sunafc · 25 days

Text

Can I get a kiss, please? —ft. Suna Rintarou.

cw: wc 1k, college au? idk but they are not in high school, there’s a little bit of cheating kinda, friends to lovers, suna is deeply in love and he has a breakdown because u wear his tshirt.

Suna hates many things. He hates getting up from bed in the morning, hates small talks, hates when practice gets extended, he hates when the shop close to his dorm is out of jelly fruit sticks and the list could go on forever but what he hates the most at the moment is you. He hates how comfortable you got with him during your years of friendship because now you’re standing in front of him, after taking a shower in his bathroom and wearing nothing but his tshirt on top of your underwear, urging him to move and give you some space to sit on the couch. You’re so comfortable with him that you sit right next to him, so close your knees are touching. Your hand on his thigh as you lean in to show him pictures on your phone, fingers grazing the hem of his shorts, so close he can only smell the scent of his shampoo in your hair. You’ve gotten too comfortable. He’s not even sure what you’re talking about, he’s trying to listen to you, he wants to listen to you, but you’re too close. He’s trying to paying attention to whatever is showing on the screen of your phone, but you in his tshirt smelling like his shampoo is just too much. Your touch sends sparks through his body and he can feel something in his stomach, it twists and burns and it makes him want to scream or maybe cry. He hates that you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.

You tap your hand on his thigh, ‘Look, look!’

He gets brought back to reality and a laugh escapes his lips as you show him a video of Atsumu tripping on a rock.

You put away your phone and turn to face Suna, giving him your full attention. He swallows, he’s having trouble breathing.

‘Sunarin,’ you say and he waits for you to say something else but you don’t. You’re just looking at him. He can feel that thing in his stomach move all the way to his spine and he can’t move.

‘Is everything alright?’ You ask, looking a little worried.

He nods, not daring to open his mouth yet.

‘Are you sure you don’t have a fever or something?’ You bring a hand to his forehead, ‘You’re a little weird.’

He scoffs and pushes your hand away, ‘I’m not weird.’

‘Mhm, just a little,’ you smile and turn back to your original position. You switch on the television and brows through netflix looking for a movie to watch.

Without your eyes staring into his soul, Suna feels like he can breathe a little bit easier.

‘Tell me about Yuki,’ you say tapping your fingers on the remote.

‘What about her?’ Suna could not care less about any other person when you were with him. You would occupy every single one of his thoughts. It was actually the same even when you weren’t with him too.

‘You know, how’s it going? Is she nice?’

Suna also hates the way you’re not at all bothered if he dates other people, you’re actually curious about it.

‘She was alright I guess,’ he extends a hand to you, he grazes your arm, he doesn't want to talk about other relationships he only wants to stay with you, ‘We went out like twice then I broke it off.’

Suna was always like that, there were plenty of people who asked him out but no one ever lasted more than three dates. Not when every time he would kiss someone he imagined it was you. After a while you just stopped asking him why he would not put in the effort.

‘I’m thinking of breaking up with Haruto,’ you say suddenly.

Just the sound of that name is enough to make Suna feel nauseous.

‘Thank God,’ another thing that Suna hates is Haruto. Not because he’s jealous, no, but because the guy is actually a shit boyfriend to you, ‘What happened?’

‘You know, the usual,’ you drop the remote and turn to Suna again, ‘We fought again because he’s jealous of you, says I spend more time with you than him,’ you roll your eyes, ‘He thinks I’m cheating.’

Suna can’t help the smirk forming on his lips, knowing you want to break up with your boyfriend because of him does something to him. Maybe he’s a little selfish and maybe he shouldn't be so happy about it, but he thinks it’s alright for this one time.

‘I don’t even know why you stayed with him for so long.’

You lower your gaze, ‘It was nice, he was nice,’ you say, ‘When we didn’t fight.’

‘He’s right though,’ Suna says.

‘What?’ Your eyes lock into his, feeling betrayed.

Suna shrugs, ‘You do spend more time with me.’

You jokingly punch his shoulder, ‘Shut up!’

‘Are you sad?’ Suna asks you turning serious.

‘About Haruto?’

Suna nods and waits for your answer.

You furrow your brow in thought before shaking your head, ‘He was an asshole anyway, but if it means you’ll comfort me,’ you smile, ‘With cuddles and forehead kisses...’ you sigh and put a fake pout on your face, ‘Oh, I’m so sad Sunarin.’

You’re slowly killing him, he’s sure that’s your goal for the night. Slowly stabbing him with every word and every look you’re giving him. You’re looking up at him and you’re just too pretty as you ask for his attention.

He sighs, ‘You know there’s no need to act,’ he pulls you closer and with a newfound confidence he lets you sit between his legs as you face each other, ‘If you want hugs and kisses you just have to ask.’

Maybe he didn’t think that through, because now your legs are around his torso and your skin brushes against his back where his tshirt is slightly lifted. You’re way too close now. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, definitely not your thighs though. He opts to just lazily put his arm around your body.

‘Okay then,’ you run your fingers through his hair, ‘Can I get a kiss, please?’

With that, the thing in his stomach returns and it stretches to his throat making it impossible for him to talk. He’s sure you can feel the way he’s slightly shaking and the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. He thinks of asking you to repeat, but he heard you right and he doesn’t want to risk you changing your mind. He leans in as one of his hands make its way to the base of your neck. He can feel your breath on him. Your fingers still in his hair. Your noses are touching. He feels high, maybe a little dizzy. Just a little closer and your lips would be touching. You’re not running away, you want this too. It feels like you’ve been in this position for hours, the wait is agonizing. He wonders how your lips will taste, maybe like the blackberry chapstick you always wear. He wonders if your lips are as soft as they look.

‘Stop joking around,’ you break the silence.

His other hand grazes your cheek and then his thumb traces your bottom lip, ‘I’m not.’

‘Rin, please,’ you whisper.

Oh, how he loves the desperation in your tone. If only you knew for how long he craved this too. Just when you think he’s finally closing the gap, he gives you a quick peck at the corner of your mouth.

‘I can’t, Y/n,’ he says lowering his head, ‘Not when you’re not mine.’

He hugs you, thightly, burying his head in your neck.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say, ‘I shouldn’t have asked for that.’

You can feel him shaking his head lightly, ‘I wanted to,’ he says.

You wanted it too, more than anything you ever wanted.

Suna can feel the thing in his throat threaten to leave his body through his mouth, ‘I love you,’ he blurts out and shocked by his own words his head jerks up, ‘I—’

‘Sunarin,’ you stop him and every thoughts that was starting to form in his mind, ‘It’s okay,’ you cup his face, ‘I love you, too,’ you lay your forehead on his, ‘I’ll make it up to you.’

He hugs you again, ‘You’ll be mine?’

You hum and nod your head.

Now that you knew of his feelings, that thing in his stomach, in his spine, in his throat, is gone. He still doesn’t dare to touch your thighs, though, and the smell of his shampoo on you still makes him weak at the knees. Next time you’ll see each other you’ll be his and then he will kiss you. He can imagine how it will be, he imagined it so many times before. He smiles as he gets comfortable in your arms.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintarō #sunarin #haikyuu x y/n

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gatorbites-imagines · 8 months

Note

Hello~!

So may I request a poly ghost face (from 1996) where they have an autistic trans!reader. Ik a lot (I'm projecting) the reader stims vocally by mimicking what they say, and they have a special interest (am like bugs, gore, sharks, dinosaurs, something around those lines yk? I feel like gore would fit) the reader rambles and rants Abt their special interest a lot! Just those kinds of things. I feel like you'd be able to capture this perfectly, thank you! Have a wonderful time zone :)

Poly Ghostface x autistic trans male reader

Headcanons

I always headcanon Stu as having something like ADHD, or just more hyperactive autism.

Been a while since I wrote about these two, huh? I’ve kinda missed em, ngl. Hope it’s alright I took some liberties with the hyperfixations :)

I can imagine that maybe you were friends with Stu when you were kids, because you were both “weird” in other people’s opinion. Stu because he was too hyperactive and could never sit still, and you because of your weird interests and how you were quite antisocial at times.

Time would pass, you guys would grow older. Stu would become someone popular, as his erratic and hyper personality becomes something others admire because he’s fun, whilst you stay being the weirdo with too much interest in medical texts, insects, and decomposition.

Neither of you meant to do it, but you would grow apart. Stu would get his new friends, specifically Billy, and you would stay by yourself burying yourself in your special interests. Its not strange to find you flipping through medical books or books about the horrors of war and medical malpractice. The more pictures the better.

When its not medical texts and war pictures with as much gorey detail as possible in the text and pictures, you can be found reading about death and the work of being a mortician, the way a body decays, and all that.

And when its neither of those things, you can be found looks at bugs, lifting rocks or moving trash to see what critters you can find. You have a sketchbook you like to draw in, three ones at that, one for each hyperfixation since you don’t wanna mix the information in them.

Its in the many niche medical books you learn about being transgender, and suddenly how uncomfortable you are in your own body makes sense. You don’t need any friends, or your families support to transition, that’s what you tell yourself at least.

You haven’t really had any real friends since you split form Stu when you were kids, and your creepy interests chase off anyone who might attempt to befriend you.

So, when you show up one day to school and openly tell people you are now a boy, no one really questions it, because why would they? You’re already weird, and compared to all your other quirks, being a boy is probably the most normal thing about you.

Through all these years you haven’t experienced as much bullying as you probably would have anywhere else, all thanks to Billy and Stu.

Stu because he still sees you as his friend in some way, and Billy because he’s fascinated by you. One day after you had come out, he walked behind you and saw you drawing detailed diagrams of top surgery in grotesque detail, and Billy has been hooked since.

At some point you and Billy would end up talking, one way or another. Maybe it was at the video store around Halloween one night, maybe the year Sidney’s mom died, and Billy would ask your opinion on the horror movie selection.

Youd grimace and say they sucked since the gore was so unrealistic, which Billy, the freak, would definitely ask into why you thought so. This would lead to you infodumping to him for a long time, going through multiple movies and explaining how its unrealistic and what would have made it better.

As infodumping goes, you don’t even realize how long you’ve been standing there talking to one of the hottest guy at your school about fictional gore, until Randy has to tell you guys that the store is closing soon.

You end up getting real embarrassed about wasting his time like that, which Billy is quick to tell you that nothing was wasted because he loved talking about it with you and hearing what you had to say. He would love to talk again some time.

You don’t really believe him, until he searches you out the next day in your shared free period when you are sitting outside drawing bugs and beetles, dragging Stu with him of all people. You haven’t actually interacted with Stu in a while, so you cringe and get jitters when he hugs you and gets into your personal space.

Its Billy who has to remind him of personal space, and before you know it, they’ve asked in about your special interests, and then they just sit back as you infodump and show them the pictures and drawings you have in all three of your sketchbooks, making the two Woodsboro killers fall for you harder and harder.

Time would pass and you three would start spending a lot of time together, Billy and Stu always hanging around you to listen to what you have to say, never growing tired no matter how much you infodump.

Stu would be the first to confess his feelings, as he feels fast and he feels strong, so one day when you two are laying on his bed and you’re talking about the difference between two beetles who look almost the exact same, whilst also talking about lungs and how they’re built, Stu just leans over and kisses you.

You would be so confused, until Stu tells you that he really likes you, he would even spill the beans that Billy feels the same way too. As if summoned, Billy would show up and Stu would be all like “right Billy? You like him too, right?” and Billy would facepalm cuz he planned on confessing in a much better way.

But hed agree and say he fell pretty damn hard for you, but neither rushes you in your decision as they know it’s a big step. I can imagine Stu also rambling about how hes always liked you since you were kids, even before you transitioned, and how he actually started liking you even more afterwards because you looked so much more comfortable with yourself and who you were.

At some point you would come to the conclusion that you felt the same way, and boom, now you got two boyfriends who like you for who you are, and would stab a bitch if they tried to disrespect you in any way, shape, or form.

When the ghostface killings happen, you wouldn’t be at the party since they are super overstimulating, but you would go to the hospital to check on Billy and Stu since they are the only “survivors”.

I thought it would be funny if you developed a special interest in the ghostface killers and started a fourth sketchbook filled with your notes and theories, but you would keep it hidden form Billy and Stu because you fear it would trigger their trauma, since you don’t know they are the killers.

The fourth sketchbook would also have rants you can’t put anywhere else, like how certain people have hatecrimed you because of your gender, or because you are “weird”, and how some dark sick part of your brain wants the ghostface killers to kill them.

At some point your boyfriends would find the sketchbook and go through it together, whistling as they see the detailed analysis made for each kill, and how you are so close to figuring it out. But when they read all the stuff you’ve written you never told them, it angers them that people have been hurting you without them knowing.

You wouldn’t have told them since you didn’t want to worry them, and it wasn’t their fight in your opinion. Billy and Stu decide that they have to pull out the masks once more, seems they have a couple of horrible people to get rid of for mistreating you.

Imagine your surprise when one night you walk into your room stimming with both your hands and repeating stuff that Billy and Stu said earlier that day, only to find not one, but two people wearing ghostface gear in your room.

It takes you a little too long to even spot them as you were scribbling in your death sketchbook, having gotten a sudden spark of inspiration on the way home from your apprenticeship as the local funeral home.

You almost get to scream before they pounce, never actually hurting you but clamping a hand over your mouth, their gloves wet with what you can smell is blood. After they make you promise to stay quiet, they unmask and reveal who they are.

You buffer like an old computer for a little too long, before smacking the shit out of both of them, wacking them in the chest for not telling you. Your opinion on death and murder are probably really twisted, and the people they’ve killed have either hurt you or you had no relationship with them.

It does light up every light in your hyperfixations though, and you might demand them to explain what killing someone is like, or what a freshly killed body looks like for your sketchbooks.

Billy would grin and try to kiss you, because how can you be so perfect? But you’d wave him off with a grimace and demand Stu explain once again what it was like stabbing someone so you can get it all down in your book.

I don’t know if youd join them as a third Ghostface, but they might take you along every now and then, letting you roam the place after they’ve done their thing if the chance is there. I could imagine them taking pictures of things for you too.

I’m imagining them both dressed up as ghostface, except no mask, both kissing at your cheeks and neck and being all lovey dovey and almost purring, whilst you are sketching down the different pictures and notes about them.

They love you so much, its insane. You’re gonna have them hanging on you for the rest of your life, sorry man, I don’t make the rules. Even if you move to another city and start studying to be a professor or like, investigator for the FBI, they would go with you. It would even help them in their Ghostface work as you are an expert in them not getting caught.

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demonsword586 · 5 months

Text

Horn grinding headcanons! Gehenna

(I apoligise but I been having THOUGHTS...and I wanted to make something like a list of all devils and how their horns would feel for grinding,starting of with Gehenna devils.)

Sitri

-first things first,the ~ shape would probably feel like a bulge

-it's also quite decent in size and he only has one horn,which is actually an advantage,since you might have a hard time finding a comfy position with a devil who has more than one

-also if you put his head between your thighs,you can pull on his ponytail

-his head probably smells like tea,so bonus points for that

Satan

-Yes

-very big,they're also in a very nice position

-also very smooth,so it may will be easier to glide against them when they're wet from cum/milk/any other liquid

-the only downside is that he would act like a brat and bite your legs or move his head away when you're close

-so kindly slap him and hold him by the tip of his horns or tug on his hair,he will enjoy it

Paimon

-okay it would be a struggle to get the position right.

-won't let you grind on them until he takes those stickers off OR will do his best to make you release a lot of juices(finger you,edge you,bite your thighs) so the stickers have more of your scent and he will keep them for years

-his horns are actually quite thin and the distance between them...like I said,this is a tough cookie to grind on,penetration might be better

-also he may prick or bite you on purpose to draw out your blood

Leraye

-okay for humping,the unicorn shape might be the safest and most straight forward one.

-this one even has a golden retriver attached to it

-absolute obedience! You tell him 'stay',he stays still...but when he's close,he may not be able to hold back much longer and will hump his head against you instead

-will keep the teddy bear on,either to make you more comfy or to get your scent on it

Zagan

-(omg bunny ears!)

-ngl that shape...would be perfect for a vibrator

- his horns have so much girth and lenght that all of your privates would be covered

-also that long,jankable hair...just imagine grinding on those cute horns and all of the sudden jank his head back,he may even let out a few moans!

-actaully since he has so much stamina he may be open to turning into a vibrator for you

-either way he will do all the work,to please his partner

Belial

-hmm...I don't want to be rude but...those are not grindable..kinda small

-if you somehow grind on those,applause to you

-but those are made for penetration...

-thankfully these average horns,have a masterfull tongue below them(really this man can write with his tongue,imagine what godly oral he could do)

-so you can get oral and horn penetration at the same time! (Imagine him sucking your clit/cock while he fucks you with his horn)

Astaroth

-okay at first nothing special,looks like he broke his horns...he turns around and DAMN! This man has a fucking grinding machine!

-The girth! The lenght! The position!

-I'm sorry but...his horns are laid flat against the back of his head,which is perfect for sitting down,not only that but his long ass hair is also there. Imagine how it would feel to sit down on this beast while his hairl tickle your legs

-the horns are pretty decent size and girth

-Oh! The bumps! Those are the cherry on top! I...it would feel amazing,that's all I can say

-the only downside is that he would probablly suffocate

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb satan #whb sitri #whb leraye #whb paimon #whb astaroth #whb belial #whb zagan

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joeys-babe · 1 month

Text

Joey B Imagines: Easter

————————————————————————-

Summary: You and Joe spend Easter in Athens at his parent's house, and you can't help but think about what your life has become.

Warnings: Fluff!

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into the Mystic

————————————————————————-

March 31, 2024

“Hey, Burrow’s!” - Robin

Joe held my hand as we walked through the back gate into his childhood backyard.

Miles and Tyson were walking in front of us in their usual matching fashion. They had on white button-downs and jeans, their high-top Nikes matching the ones Joe was wearing right now. Joe had styled their hair to have the same swoop as his.

“Hey, Mom.” - Joe smiled

Jimmy stood at the grill, grilling what looked to be steaks as he talked to Joe’s brother Jamie.

Immediately, Miles was running to his grandma.

“Look at you! You look snazzy!” - Robin

Miles hugged Robin’s neck after she picked him up, and Joe guided me over to the back deck.

“Mama, sit down.” - Joe

“I’m okay, Joe.” - you

Joe gave me a stern look, and I slowly sat down on the porch swing. He sat down next to me and pulled Tyson onto his lap.

“It's kinda cold…” - you

The way Joe immediately pulled his light jacket off made me smile. He always did his best to take care of me. After putting the jacket over my shoulders, Joe kept his arm around me.

“Thank you.” - you smile

“Of course.” - Joe pressed a kiss to your forehead

I sighed in contentment as I looked around the yard. Robin was holding Miles as he blabbed to Jimmy about what he got in his Easter baskets this morning. Joe ran his fingertips over my bare shoulder, and my eyes dropped down to Tyson. His chubby cheek was pressed onto his dad’s chest as he fisted Joe’s shirt.

Pulled out of my daydream with a squeeze of my shoulder, I looked up and met my favorite pair of blues, who was already looking down at me.

“Whatcha thinking?” - Joe

“I’m just very happy and thankful. For this… for you.” - you

“Good. I'm thankful for you too.” - Joe

——

After dinner, Robin called all of the grandkids inside so the adults could hide eggs for an Easter egg hunt.

Joe sat back down on the swing and gently grabbed my hips so I'd sit next to him.

“Your feet sore, baby? You've been on them all day.” - Joe

“A little.” - you

He bent down and grabbed my legs, pulling them onto his lap as I sat sideways. Joe took my wedged sandals off and rubbed my feet.

“Joseph!” - Robin

“What?!” - Joe

“It's your turn this year.” - Robin

“For what?” - Joe

Jamie and Dan laughed on the other side of the porch.

“Easter bunny.” - Dan laughed

I looked at Joe, who looked confused until it clicked, and his eyes went wide.

“Absolutely not! No way, I'm not putting that suit on!” - Joe

“Awe, please, Joe? For the kids!” - you

“No way.” - Joe

Joe had a disgusted look on his face until his eyes met mine.

“Please, baby.” - you

“Fine.” - Joe sighed

——

When Joe walked outside in the bunny costume, I couldn't help but laugh. I hid my face behind my hand as I stood with the twins in the grass. They each held a basket.

Miles hid behind my legs like he does when he's scared while Tyson pointed at Joe and yelled ‘Bunny’.

Easter bunny Joe walked up to me and picked up Tyson, trying to show Miles that he wasn't that scary.

“See, buddy, he's not scary.” - you

Joe eventually put Tyson down and wrapped his arms around my waist. I laughed as I leaned against his chest.

“This is humiliating.” - Joe whispered

“I’ll give you extra kisses later to make up for this.” - you

“Good.” - Joe

When I pulled away from Joe, I noticed that Miles’s chin was quivering.

“Oh, it's okay, bubs! Don't cry.” - you

Joe pulled the head of the costume off to show Miles that it was just him, and I couldn't help but chuckle at his messed-up hair.

“It’s just daddy.” - you laughed

Miles was still slow to calm down even when Joe bent down to be at his level.

“Look, it's just Daddy.” - Joe

“Daddy?” - Miles

My heart ached when he wiped his little eyes and walked toward Joe.

“Sorry for scaring you.” - Joe

“S’okay.” - Miles

Robin took the boys over to where the eggs were to start the hunt, giving Joe and me some alone time while she distracted Miles.

“Hey, baby, can you help me get out of this, please?” - Joe

After unzipping the suit and helping Joe out of it, he reached a hand up and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Its bad isn't it?” - Joe

“What?” - your smile fell

“My hair.” - Joe

“Oh! It's not too bad.” - you

Joe leaned his head down and I fixed it back to its original form, him kissing my cheek before fully pulling away.

“You look beautiful in this dress by the way. Baby girl is really popping out now.” - Joe

“She is.” - you agreed

“I can't wait till she’s here.” - Joe

He placed a big hand on the center of my bump, and I laid mine over his.

“We still have a long way to go, but it's going to be worth the wait.” - you smiled

“Agreed.” - Joe

I grinned at him, his eyes flicking from my eyes to my lips before he leaned in and kissed me.

“Do you remember our first Easter together as a couple?” - Joe

“Yup. We were kissing in the gazebo and Jamie walked in on us.” - you

“Fun times… I remember my teenage boy mind going crazy over you in that dress.” - Joe laughed

“What?!” - you

“Your Easter dress that year. It hugged you in all the right places.” - Joe

“You’re crazy…” - you

Our conversation ended and we walked back up to the porch, Joe only sat down for a few seconds before getting up to help the twins hunt for eggs.

Joe offered his assistance after we watched Tyson pick up an egg and put it in his tipped-over basket, only for it to fall straight out of his basket. Miles was trailing behind him, picking up every egg Tyson dropped. Both were completely oblivious, and Miles thought he was just really good at finding them, unaware of the fact that they were Tyson’s dropped eggs.

I sat back and let the wind blow over my face, snuggling more into Joe’s jacket just like I had snuggled into his letterman jacket during our first Easter.

Now the owner of that letterman jacket was my husband, who was running around the yard like a madman, trying to find eggs for our kids.

“Joe! Leave some for the other kids!” - you chuckled

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Authors note: Happy Easter y'all!

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕💕

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

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rebelfell · 6 months

Text

The Third Date

Eddie Munson x Anorgasmic!Reader

When you move back to Hawkins after graduating college, you find yourself reconnecting with an old friend in a new way. Your first two dates with Eddie Munson are everything you’d ever dreamed, but the next one has you unraveling.

Part One. Part Two.

cw: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, fem!reader, deceased parent, mentions of poor sexual experiences, some drinking, sexual anxiety, making out, fingering, panic attack, eddie being sweet and reassuring, fluffy ending.

I was kinda in my feelings and needed Eddie to tell me all the right things. Sue me. 18+, MDNI 7k

You used to like this mirror.

It was vintage. Full length with an ornate gold frame, swirling embellishments on the top and sides. Not to mention it was a fucking steal at $10 from an estate sale. You’d liked it enough to make it one of the scant number of things you hauled all the way back to Hawkins when you moved out of your shoebox apartment in the city.

Right now, though? You kind of hated it.

Usually, standing before it made you feel stately and elegant, even if all you had on was ratty denim shorts and a threadbare t-shirt riddled with holes and bleach stains. Yet here you were in one of your favorite outfits, hair meticulously styled, face glowing and dewy after spending an hour on it, and all you felt was ridiculous.

Not the mirror’s fault, technically. But it was the messenger. It told you at every twist of your hips, at every outfit change, at every pluck and tug of your clothes, that you were never going to look right—that you were never going to feel right. And it mocked your every failed attempt to do so.

You inhale, breath shallow and shaky as you try yet again to calm down. It’s just a date, you remind yourself. It’s just a date and he’s just a guy. There’s nothing to be worried about.

Except it wasn’t just a date. It was the auspicious Third Date.

And it certainly wasn’t just a guy…it was Eddie.

This was something you’d been waiting for forever. For longer than forever. For longer than you could count. Eddie Munson was your oldest and dearest friend. Growing up, you were like each other’s second heads—facing the worst of what small minds in a small town in Indiana cooked up. You stood, middle fingers brandished like swords, dreaming of a wider world.

It felt strange to think this would only be your third date when you’d basically been dating since you were thirteen. You went to movies together, wasted weekday afternoons at the record store, lounged on the gravelly bank of Lover’s Lake reading well-worn paperbacks—Two Towers for him, Dorothy Parker for you. He begged you to sit in on Hellfire when he started the club your junior year and only had three members, himself included. He’d sneak you into the dive bar where his band played Tuesday nights, and you would immediately stick out among the five drunks who assembled every week. But as long as all you ordered was ginger ale and swore up and down you weren’t a cop, the bartender let you sit there all night to watch him.

Nights never ended the way “real” dates did. No hands being held as he walked you from his van to your doorstep; no kisses under flickering porch lights scored by a cricket symphony.

He never touched you too much, always quick to withdraw his hands when they lingered on your hip or back or arm. That would change, though, if he smoked or drank a bit and his cuddly side came out. Secretly, you longed for these times. You reveled in having his chin rest on your shoulder or his arms wind around your waist to hold you close. It never felt gross or crossed the line into groping like with other, lesser, guys looking for something to fondle. With Eddie, it felt more like he was showing you how he wished he could be all the time.

At least that’s what you let yourself imagine.

He always apologized the following day, just short of castrating himself over it. It made you want to slap him. Slap him and then kiss him and slap him again. How could he not get it? How could he not see how goddamn in love with him you were? How could he not feel the same way? You waved him off, assuring him he hadn’t done anything wrong. All the while thinking, you fucking idiot, and not even knowing if you were referring to him or yourself.

Then came graduation. Or rather, your graduation and his sullen admission he wasn't eligible, which lead to the longest, most difficult conversation of your lives so far. It wasn’t even a conversation so much as it was you swinging wildly between reactions—scolding him for not telling you sooner; grasping at the straws of extra credit assignments your teachers would never assign; volunteering to stand guard while he broke into the administration office.

Eventually, though, you had to face the reality of losing him and it left a prominent break in your heart. Your acceptance letter to a school in Indianapolis that used to make you feel weightless, like you could finally fly out of here, now felt more like chains dragging you away.

You had half a mind to take him with you. You must have rehearsed the speech you wanted to make something like fifty times. Screw Hawkins, you’d say. Screw their closed minds and their disdain for anything even a little different. He could get his GED—you’d help him, happily. He could find work in the city and take community college classes or go to trade school. The two of you could live together and watch slasher movies every Friday night, falling asleep on his chest when you got tired just as you’d done all throughout high-school.

Of course those thoughts inevitably spiraled into what would happen once he started dating. A bigger city meant a bigger pool of people, all with the potential to realize the kind, sweet, caring boy who was bursting with passion for his fantasy games and music and his other rich interests was actually a massive catch and not a social pariah. In no time, it would be someone else falling asleep on his chest and you watching them be carried to his bed.

You couldn’t bear the thought of that. Maybe even moreso, you couldn't bear the thought of asking him to come with you and him saying “no.”

So, you went alone. You packed up your car with the barest necessities, you kissed your dad goodbye and said you’d see him at Christmas. But it was Eddie who saw you off, taking you into his arms and holding you there with your head tucked under his chin. You buried your face in his chest, tears leaking onto the patches you’d helped him sew on his denim vest. He told you how proud he was and how much he was gonna miss you. He said to write. To send pictures.

All you could do was sniffle.

At college, you tried expanding your horizons. You joined a couple clubs to make new friends and started going to parties. You met people like Carl. And even though he was handsome and seemed nice enough, you turned him down when he asked you to dinner. It wasn’t until much later, when your roommate scolded you for doing so, that you even felt some doubt about it. What was even the point when you knew he wasn’t what you wanted?

Except what you wanted might never be yours.

That first trip home to Hawkins was wildly unnerving. You knew it hadn’t actually been that long since you left. But why did it feel so strange that everything felt exactly the same? Had you really changed so much already that your home no longer felt like home?

Even seeing Eddie again felt like rupturing old wounds you thought had successfully scabbed over. You withdrew from him without even realizing you were doing it. He knew something was wrong, but didn’t dare voice it. His greatest fear loomed: you were done with Hawkins.

Done with him.

It took a while to strike the balance between the old and the new. You’d run away so fast and tried to overwrite everything in your life, returning to Hawkins felt like entering a fantasy world. And Eddie became like an apparition, a specter of everything you missed most.

You started writing to him more, sharing stories about your classes, gossip in the dorms, drunk adventures in the city. And he wrote back, telling you all about the new members of Hellfire who also happened to play instruments and were eager to replace the members of Corroded Coffin who had graduated and moved away. Eventually, the letters became more like a diary.

You could confess things you’d never imagined telling anyone—stuff about your mom and how you’d spent every day wondering if she’d be proud of you; how you worried about your dad and wondered if he would ever get over her; how you feared you might never find love like theirs and even if you did, how it might be taken away from you like it was from them.

And he confessed back to you. Amidst his ideas for new D&D campaigns and song lyrics, he gave you deeper insight on things you knew already—his father’s sordid criminal history and his mother’s inability to cope, which led to her dropping Eddie on his uncle’s doorstep at the ripe old age of eleven. Reading about Hawkins through his eyes made it feel more real and less like a dream you’d woken up from. It kept that connection open, a bridge between your worlds, so you could experience college and all the new things it had to offer, but still felt connected.

Then the end of your sophomore year brought more bad news.

Again, he wasn’t eligible. Again, he wasn’t graduating.

You’d not been able to let go of that fantasy of him joining you at school. Every time you walked across the quad, leaves crunching beneath your boots, sunlight dying as it dipped behind the old brick buildings and cast everything in a hazy golden autumn glow, you imagined a pair of clean, white sneakers next to yours and a ringed hand squeezing your fingers.

He promised you this was his year. Swore it, in fact. ‘86, baby! he’d scrawled big and messy under his signature at the end of one of his letters. And maybe it would. He said he was doing better—army crawling his way towards a D in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, already planning how he would snatch his diploma and flip the bird at the principal as he walked the stage.

He was certain enough it made you start to believe it too.

You never dared to broach the subject of what he wanted to do after graduation. He hadn’t mentioned applying to any colleges or looking for work. The rest of the band was graduating with him. Maybe they’d all move here to get more exposure. Maybe they wanted to record a demo they could pass out to record companies. Or maybe Eddie wanted to go solo.

The lack of information made you antsy. Was he being decidedly cagey about his plans? Was he hiding something? Or was he just afraid of disappointing you again?

It was nearing the end of the school year when you finally broke. You had to see him.

For once, your spring breaks were going to overlap. You blew off your classes on Friday to make the drive and managed to get to Hawkins High just as the final bell was ringing. His van still sat in the parking lot and you pulled in alongside it to wait, practically jumping out of your skin with excitement. Thirty whole minutes crawled by before you finally spotted him.

He emerged from the woods at the back of the practice sport fields, chattering with ease to maybe the last person on earth you would have expected to see.

Chrissy Cunningham was just as pretty as she’d always been. She was a couple years behind you and Eddie in school, but everyone knew of her from the moment she made the varsity cheer squad as a freshman—a staggering feat no one else had ever managed. She still had the same bouncy ponytail, the same enormous eyes and cherubic cheeks you imagined must ache at the end of each day from her constant smiling. And she was somehow smiling even wider than normal at whatever Eddie was saying as he grinned back at her.

It made your stomach churn thinking what they could have been doing to have her smiling like that. You knew he’d started dealing for Reefer Rick to earn extra money, but in what universe would the queen of Hawkins High be struck with the urge to buy a bag of skunky weed?

Unless it wasn’t weed she was after at all.

Panic doused your body. You jammed your key back in the ignition and sped out of the lot, praying he didn’t see you. You drove straight back to school, tears streaming down your face for the entire journey, making you hate yourself more with every salty trail that stained your cheeks. Because what else did you expect? For him to pine for you like you did for him? For him to be like you and not date anyone, ever? To keep everyone who even attempted to get close at a distance? Reserving a space in your heart for someone who might not even want to fill it?

You loved him more now than you ever had. Even without seeing him every day, even without having him constantly at your side. If anything, it had gotten worse. Your feelings piled up within you just as his letters did in your room. They all lived in a box under your shitty dorm bed to be pulled out over and over and over so you could parse every line for hidden meaning. Crying at his words, so heartfelt and honest you didn’t even notice the grammatical and spelling errors.

By the time you got back to campus, you felt raw and spent. Your face was streaked with tears and you were breathless from crying. For days, you walked around campus like a ghost until you bumped into Carl, the only other soul not off on some debaucherous Spring Break trip. And when he asked you for seemingly the hundredth time if he could buy you dinner…you said yes.

It came in the mail a few months later. Your address scribbled messily on an invitation to the Hawkins High Class of 1986 graduation. Eddie had included a photocopy of his final grades and written “proof it’s not a clerical error” with a little smiley face in the corner.

You called him that night to tell him how proud of him you were. And you were proud of him. So unbelievably proud. But when he asked if you were coming, you lied. You said your boyfriend’s parents would be in town and that he wanted you to meet them. You told him how sorry you were, all the while thinking Chrissy could congratulate him enough for the both of you.

And in spite of yourself…you let yourself pretend you heard a little dejection in his voice when you used the word “boyfriend”—fictitious as it was.

The truth was, you’d only been officially dating Carl for a couple weeks. And he was perfectly nice. He’d kissed you and it felt fine. It didn’t quite live up to what you believed it should feel like, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe what you imagined wasn’t realistic. Maybe what you thought it should be wasn’t feasible.

Maybe you just had to let that go.

And dating Carl was simple and uncomplicated. It served a purpose. It made you feel at least like you weren’t languishing in a wasteland of your unrequited feelings. It made you feel like you were trying. Sure, the sex wasn’t great. But you hardly expected it to be good for you.

You’d hooked up with the odd guy here and there over the years. It was a pattern that began with some guy you met downtown whose assignment was to keep you occupied while his friend put the moves on your roommate. You were a little drunk and a lot lonely, so you’d gone along with it. It was quick. A little uncomfortable. It certainly didn’t make you eager to repeat the experience. But at least you could say you’d done it.

Part of you thought maybe it would get better, but it never did.

Even guys you thought were decent at first were quick to gloss over the preamble and lead up, jumping straight to stuffing themselves inside you with no regard to your winces of discomfort. It didn’t take long before you started to assume you had to be the problem. Even by yourself, it took you ages to reach any sort of precipice. And even when you did, even when you felt your heart rate rising and your body heaving in response, the pay-off was…underwhelming.

With Carl, you thought it could be different. Maybe you needed a deeper connection; maybe you needed a few times to get comfortable with someone to properly ascend that peak. But the more you did it with him, the less attainable that seemed. Maybe you were just broken.

You also tried not to dwell on the fact that the only times you ever got close were when you pictured a different face hovering over yours; when you imagined your fingers twisted up in dark, shaggy curls; when you visualized pale skin littered with tattoos and sinewy arms caging you in; when you lit that one candle you only bought because it reminded you of Eddie’s cologne.

The decision to move back home turned out to be less a decision and more a necessity.

A whole year out of school and you’d had truly terrible luck finding a job—at least a decent one that actually wanted to pay you. Carl, ever the charmer, wondered why you even wanted to work when you’d just wind up quitting when you got married. Really, you appreciated it. It was exactly the kind of comment you needed to jolt you out of a relationship that had been on autopilot.

You were a mess. Lost. Aimless. Barely treading water. Wishing you could call the one person you knew would cheer you up, but unsure if it would only result in more heartache. In the blink of an eye, it had been over five years since you left home and it was starting to feel like your only accomplishments were breaking up with your boyfriend and buying a mirror.

Then came the call from your dad.

He’d taken a nasty fall at his hardware store. He was fine, for the most part. But he was now significantly weaker and would have to have surgery as well as physical therapy after. And he certainly couldn’t run his store anymore. It had never run particularly smoothly to begin with and his books left something to be desired—another thing you’d be helping with once you moved back. He never outright asked you to do so, but he also didn’t have to.

The only good news was the bad news: a massive fire that disintegrated Starcourt Mall had led to an influx of renovations to the downtown area. In the wake of the mall’s destruction came a resurgence in small businesses that breathed life back into the desolation the mall caused.

It was in this newly resurrected downtown where Eddie was making his mark. He had opened a hobby shop where he still hosted his weekly D&D games with a lot of the kids who had originally been in his club. His store became like a beacon for all the kids (and even some of the adults) in Hawkins who felt there was no place for them. Eddie gave them somewhere to belong and celebrated all the things that made them targets of ridicule to everyone else.

It was also your first stop on your first day back.

The whole shop was so Eddie. As you walked inside and took in the decor, it seemed entirely possible he had just moved everything from his bedroom at Wayne’s right in here. He’d even rigged the entrance with a speaker that played the guitar riff of “Enter Sandman” when someone came through the door.

You wished you could bottle the moment he came out front, your arrival signaled by the song.

“Holy shit…”

The box of miniatures and figurines he’d just finished pricing in the back fell to the floor with a thump and a rattle of plastic parts. He barely registered it, though. With round, unblinking eyes he stared, too stunned to move a muscle until a smile cracked his face wide open.

In just three long strides he crossed the store and swept you into his arms, lifting you up and whirling you around. “You’re here!” he gushed, arms crushing you around the middle in the most exquisite pain. “You’re really here!”

“I told you I was moving back!”

You laughed heartily in his ear as he placed you back on the ground, telling yourself it must have been the unexpected lift making you breathless and not how the sunlight coming through the windows hit his eyes and made them shine like molten honey. He kept you close, letting his hands rest on your arms and squeezing them like he had to be sure you weren’t a mirage.

“I thought it was one of those ‘too good to be true’ things,” he said sheepishly, a pink blush creeping across his cheeks. “Had to see it to believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” you sighed.

You were already prepared for the loss of his touch, for when he would shamefully retract his hands, but he never did. He held you comfortably, his thumb lightly brushing over your skin. He let you go reluctantly, not regretfully, letting his fingertips trail softly down your arm.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, his voice coated in warmth. “I missed you so much.”

You nodded, your throat pinched as you tried not to cry. “I…I missed you too.”

Eddie’s smile grew even bigger, his eyes seeming to dance with excitement. “Well, we have to celebrate,” he said. “I close up shop at six. Meet me back here and we’ll go to the Hideout?”

You stalled, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you considered. Almost on instinct, you’d nearly agreed right away. Old habits and what not. But did you want to fall immediately back into your old patterns? Hawkins had changed so little since you left, it felt too easy to slip back into the trap. Could you really go right back to hopelessly pining for him as you’d done so long?

“Come on,” Eddie urged, flashing those doe eyes he knew you couldn’t resist. “It’s one drink.”

“Okay, okay!” you laughed. “One drink.”

One drink turned out to be three. Starting with your first legal drink together at his old haunt while a different band of hopeful kids fumbled their way through clumsy Metallica covers.

“Please tell me we were never that young,” Eddie sighed, taking a swig of his beer.

“You’ve never been young,” you teased. “You came out of the womb a crotchety old man.”

A little later, you absconded to the corner booth and tucked yourselves away from the rowdiness of the growing crowd. You were flushed from the alcohol buzzing in your bloodstream and from how close Eddie was sitting. It felt just like old times, except it was nothing like old times.

Because this time, he was flirting with you. And not being subtle.

You thought maybe you were imagining it at first, but it only became more obvious the longer the night wore on. There was a whole new confidence and intention in the way he talked to you. He’d never been shy, never had any trouble drawing people in, but there was a fire lit behind his eyes tonight you’d never seen before. And you were the sole object of that blaze.

“So…still with Carl?” He finally asked, after bolstering himself to do so for the last three hours.

You took a long sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his over the rim of your glass. The liquor made you bold, the burn at the back of your throat adding smokiness to your voice.

“No-pe,” you said, popping your lips on the final syllable. Eddie smiled wolfishly and leaned in.

“Good,” he purred. “Cos that would have made it real awkward when I asked you out.”

He took you to dinner two days later. Rang the doorbell and smiled at you as he stood on your porch wearing a black button down under a darker black velvet vest. His black jeans were a new- looking pair of the same kind he’d always worn, sans the ragged holes over his knees.

Despite the thin material of your sundress and the balmy weather outside, you were sweating with nerves. The breeze played with your skirt as he walked you to his van and the coolness of it on your clammy skin made you shiver. But when Eddie suddenly darted ahead of you to open your door and turned around with his hand held up to help you inside, it made you melt.

The gesture filled your body with warmth, chasing away any hint of a chill.

After dinner, he suggested you walk a block or so to a bar where Eddie liked to play pool. And as you did, his hand reached for yours and he threaded your fingers together. You stared down at it, stunned. How many times had you wished he would do that? How many times did you imagine the heat of his palm against yours mixing with the coolness of his chunky silver rings on his fingers? It had always seemed so impossible and he’d just done it.

Like it was nothing. Like he’d done it a thousand times before. Easy. Natural.

He held your hand all the way into the bar, only letting go of you to accept a tray of balls from the bartender when Eddie requested a table. With a couple of beers in hand, you followed him to his favorite one that was tucked away in a little alcove, practically private.

You set down the beers and watched as he racked the balls, gaze lingering on his long frame and chuckling at the way he shimmied his hips as he leaned over the table to break. “Eyes on me,” he told you, playful smile revealing his teeth.

It was a redundant request, because it was entirely impossible to look anywhere else.

Eddie had filled out quite a bit since high-school. He was never an athlete by any means, but evidently a regime of guitar playing and dice throwing was enough to maintain decent tone. You stared at him unabashed as he walked around the table, lining up his shot. His vest now flapped open and he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal the familiar smattering of bats under his elbow and the puppetmaster etched inside his forearm. It made you wonder how many more tattoos—new ones you’d not yet seen—were hiding under the rest of his clothes. He smirked at you, smug as he leaned over the table, thoroughly enjoying the way your eyes followed him.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” he drawled before sinking a bank shot.

You rolled your eyes, trying to fein being unimpressed. “Trying to distract me, Munson?” you asked, chalking the tip of your cue in a much more sensual manner than necessary, letting your fingers lazily stroke the stick as Eddie watched transfixed. He huffed a laugh at the display.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Evidently, both of you were equally distracted. Most of your games lagged for a mutual inability to sink more than one shot in a row as the other did their best to pull focus. It was far easier for you, having only to lean forward slightly across the table from him to reveal a healthy dose of your cleavage. That, coupled with a coy smile and batting eyelashes, spelled disaster for Eddie. Everytime you did it, he’d scratch his shot and chuckle dryly at his own hubris.

He took a different approach, choosing instead to stand as close to you as he could as you lined up your shots. His musk and cologne filled your nose, a tantalizing woodsy smell that made your head spin as you struggled to keep your eyes on the ball. He rested his hip against the table, handcuff belt buckle glinting as it reflected the light from the lamp hanging overhead.

You could practically hear the childish taunt of not touching you, not touching you.

“Just take your shot, baby,” he cooed, low and husky. The sound made your heart hammer.

A couple hours of teasing and toying later, both of you were ready to explode. Your glasses sat empty on the nearby table, neither of you terribly interested in a refill. And as Eddie sunk the eight ball again, his eyes flashed to the tray for the balls rather than going to re-rack them.

“I guess I should get you home?” he asked.

A little sullen at the idea, you nodded and returned your cues to a rack on the wall while Eddie brought the balls back to the bartender and settled the tab. Only when you were walking back to the table to get your purse and passed a pair of men who reeked of tobacco did something occur to you: Eddie hadn’t taken a smoke break once.

“Did you quit?” you asked, staring at him with wide eyes. He smiled as he drew nearer to you, relishing the way your chest heaved as you reacted to his closeness.

“Took a couple years, but yeah,” he said. “Sometimes I still need a little help, though.”

He tugged his shirttail out from the waistband of his jeans, causing his belt and the chain on his wallet to jingle slightly as he lifted his shirt to flash a strip of his stomach. You’re so distracted by the action and the cut of his v-muscle it takes a few seconds to register the beige nicotine patch stuck on his hip. You stared at him and then back at it, fingers itching to reach out and touch.

He leaned in, his face the closest it had been to yours all night, his voice hushed so only you could hear. “For when I’m really nervous,” he said.

Streetlights and stars blurred as you stepped out of the bar and he whirled you into the alley. The rough brick scraped your back and snagged on your dress as you were flattened against it and you gazed up at Eddie, string lights overhead shining brightly in your eyes.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly. “Are you ready for this to start?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight his eyes trained on your face. Your hands settled lightly on his waist and you gave an impatient tug as you nodded. It was all the invitation he needed.

His mouth met yours like the sun met the horizon. The softest kiss you’d ever had deepened gradually until you were grasping at him, fisting his shirt in your fingers. Your lips felt molded together, pliant to the other’s movements, but still insistent as they chased one another.

Control shifted subtly between you, taking turns drawing the other in and pulling back. More teasing, more toying. Yet you never denied each other long, unable to stay apart.

God, this was it. This was what it was always supposed to feel like.

It could have been hours you stood out there kissing and laughing, but you’d never have known. The only thing that alerted you to the passing of time was when the lights inside the bar shut off and the employees filed out for their final smoke break before heading home.

Giggling like terrible criminals begging to be caught, you and Eddie hugged the shadows and made your way back to his van. You rode home with your panties soaked, subtly shifting in your seat, trying not to think about the arousal pooled between your thighs. And at home, back in your room, you were so tempted to dip your fingers into the slickness as you thought about Eddie’s breath on your lips; how the ends of his curls tickled your sternum when he leaned into you; the way his scent lingered on your skin after being pressed between his body and that wall.

But you didn’t dare risk the disappointment that would follow when your pleasure receded like waves being drawn into a riptide; when you backed down from the edge of that cliff, feeling even emptier after not reaching that peak. Again. No, you couldn’t spoil this night with all that.

You saw him more throughout the week. He started popping into your father’s store almost as soon as it opened, offering you coffee and a kiss. And he spent the first hour of the morning with you at the front counter, propped up on his elbow with his chin resting on the heel of his hand.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you asked, swatting him with a folded up newspaper after you finished doing the jumble together.

He just shrugged with all the casual ease of somebody whose own shop didn’t open until 11. Or noon if he was hungover. “What could be better than hanging out with my favorite girl?”

Favorite girl. The words lived in your brain all day. It made you positively giddy every time you thought about it, even causing you to accidentally enter a customer’s 15% discount as 51% and not even bother correcting it. The loss on a value pack of paint brushes and trays seemed a paltry fee for the smile that spread across old Mrs. Gershwin’s face when she saw her total.

Eddie started calling every night at 9:30, practically on the dot, and it didn’t take long for you to get in the habit of settling into your bed around that time so you could pick up the receiver in your room before the ringing disturbed your dad dozing in his recliner downstairs.

“So when do I get to take you out again?” he asked, clearly not oblivious to how it made you melt on the other end of the line.

You blushed your way through making arrangements for an early movie Saturday followed by dinner. Then, before beginning the long process of saying your goodnights, you paused to ask him the thing you’d been wondering since that night at the Hideout.

“Eddie…are we really doing this?” you asked, torn between giddiness and trepidation.

“I certainly am,” he hummed into the receiver.

He talked the whole way through the movie and still had more to say at dinner afterward.

It didn’t bother you, though. You loved listening to him talk. Your ears had gone so long without his rambling, it was more like music than words. His feet toyed with yours under the table and after you ordered dessert, he excused himself to use the bathroom only to slide into your side of the booth when he came back. You giggled over tiramisu and cheesecake, your sides pressed together from shoulder to ankle. Later, the tastes of your desserts would mix in your mouths as he kissed you deeply in his car dropping you off.

Everything about it felt so alive. So ripe with the promise of what this could turn into, what it had already become. In two dates with Eddie, you felt more connection than you had in two years of dating Carl. Not that it was fair comparing them. Nothing and no one could ever compare to this.

It was a Wednesday when he made a new proposition. You had already crawled into bed and swathed yourself in blankets to wait for his call. And after the few customary minutes of talking about your respective days, he brought up his idea for Friday night.

“Would you want to come over here for dinner?” he asked.

“You…you mean like your place?”

“I was thinking mine, but if your heart is set on a neighbor’s, I’m sure breaking in wouldn’t be too difficult.” He’s smirking so hard you swear you can hear it over the phone.

“I guess yours will do,” you chuckled. “Does this mean I’ll get to see The Hair in person?”

Eddie was living with Steve Harrington, which had taken a commanding lead for being the most confusing thing you’d learned since returning home. Apparently they’d been brought together by a shared friendship with Dustin Henderson, one of the kids from Hellfire Eddie had taken under his batwing during his third and final senior year. Dustin had spent months insisting both boys would get along if they only gave the other a chance until his badgering paid off.

Now, the pair shared a tiny apartment downtown, walking distance from Eddie’s shop and only a short drive to Family Video where Steve was now the manager. And Dustin evidently couldn’t go five minutes without congratulating himself for bringing the two of them together. Eddie liked to joke that they were now co-parenting the little shithead (affectionate).

“Actually, Steve is out of town this weekend,” Eddie said, struggling to contain his excitement and keep his cool. “So, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Breathe, breathe, breathe. “Oh, yeah?” you said, voice spiking just an octave too high.

“Yep. And, um…you could stay over if you wanted? If that sounds good to you?”

Stay over. You knew what that meant. There was something gut wrenchingly endearing about the way he asked—the innocent peal of his voice. But there was no doubt in your mind what he was getting at. This wasn’t going to be like crashing on his couch after a movie night or pouring yourself into his bed after a Corroded Coffin show that lasted to the wee hours.

This would be something new. Something completely different.

“That sounds great,” you said, finally.

And it did sound great. It just also sounded a little terrifying.

Admittedly, you hadn’t been on many dates in your life. But television and film had successfully indoctrinated you with knowledge of that classic Third Date milestone. And it made sense. He wasn’t some stranger. You’d known each other for so long, it stood to reason things would continue to accelerate between you.

And was that such a bad thing?

This was Eddie, after all. He was your best friend. He was your other half. You weren’t sure if you even believed in soul mates, so to speak, but if they did exist you couldn’t imagine anyone besides him in that role. He had stoked life into the coals within you that you were certain had burnt into a lump of ash. You never felt with anyone the way you felt with him.

So if you were gonna do this, you were gonna do it right.

You went shopping, fighting off anxious nausea as you perused the racks of lingerie in the far corner of a little boutique. Averting your eyes from the more salacious options, you settled on a matching set of midnight blue embroidered with silver thread to look like stars. It was made of thin mesh that gave the illusion of coverage, but revealed plenty through the sheer netting.

It also looked a little like something a wizard might wear. And for obvious reasons, you had a feeling Eddie might like that.

Securing your purchase you thought might make you feel more prepared, but it only caused your thoughts to unravel further. This was the first time Eddie would be seeing your underwear and it wasn’t even your own. At least it didn’t yet feel like your own the way your drawer full of less suggestive garments did. What if he thought you looked ridiculous? What if he laughed or got turned off because your thighs were too big or the pudge of your stomach grossed him out? Worse yet, what if you failed to live up to the implications? What if he saw it and assumed you knew what you were doing, only to be woefully disappointed by your skills? Or lack thereof?

It was impossible to reconcile the two wolves fighting for dominance in your mind. On the one hand, it was wildly exciting: the thought of finally getting to be with him and touch him and have him touch you back. At the same time, though, you were overwhelmed at the prospect. What if it changed things between you? You’d always thought you wanted more than friendship with him, but what if in that pursuit you lost the person you treasured more than anything in the world?

And then of course there were the normal fears.

After so much unfulfilling sex, you couldn’t help but be fearful your body would betray you as it always had. It was hard not to pin all your hopes on this and you didn’t want to add any more pressure to this night than you already felt. But even if you backed off that peak and failed to reach the summit, surely the ascent would feel just as nice as long as it was with him.

Right?

This was what you tried to tell yourself as you turned one last time in front of your mirror.

Literally everything about this night was making you uncomfortable and it hadn’t even begun yet. The lingerie that felt fine when you bought it was tight and itchy on your skin, and it felt glaringly obvious you were wearing it under your clothes—like a diaper or a straightjacket.

You’d shaved, even though it made you feel like a creepy bald Barbie, and even though you found the concept kind of disturbing. Whose brilliant idea was it anyway that to be sexy you had to look like a child between your legs? And you always wound up completely bare because you could never get it even and kept having to take more from each side until nothing was left.

Still, you did it. Because that was what everyone did, right? That’s what he would expect?

Shaking your head, trying to fling away all your thoughts, you busy yourself packing your small overnight bag. It was the same one you must have brought over to Eddie’s a hundred times over, but for the first time you found yourself doubting it. Would he think you were high maintenance for wanting your own toothbrush and a change of clothes? For bringing something comfortable to sleep in? Would he think you were a weirdo for not just sleeping naked? God, what if he saw it and figured you’d been sleeping with so many guys, you just kept it packed all the time?

Panic creeps up the back of your neck. It burns hot on your cheeks and makes your heart pound in your temples until you’re so dizzy you have to lean against the door with your head bent.

Breathe, you think. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Frustratingly slowly, the thrumming in your chest subsides. You managed to bring yourself down off the ledge and find your center—Eddie.

Eddie would make everything alright.

He always did.

Part Two

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #tw: anorgasmia

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slvthrs · 8 months

Text

SWEET REVENGE AND GUITAR STRINGS | vinnie hacker

--- MINORS PLEASE FUCK OFF FOR UR OWN GOOD ---

your ex-boyfriend decided to cheat on you- the sane course of action was sleeping with his enemy

ROCKSTAR!VINNIE X FEM!READER

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI, praise n degradation kink, unprotected sex (use birth control idiots), dressing room sex, slight violence and blood, blood kink if u squint

word count: 2.2k <3

Wrath.

Not even anger or rage- it was pure fucking red wrath. Your boyfriend of 2 years was cheating on you. He had the fucking audacity to cheat on you, and try to hide it.

God did you want to kill him.

Your bestfriend Elle had sent you a video of him making out with some rando chick at a party and then taking her into a room to obviously have sex. You weren’t even sad, you just wanted to hurt him.

It was 3 days after you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you and the wrath hadn’t gone away. You’ve been ignoring every text, every message, every call- he was going to be so pissed. You were doing a pretty good job of not running into him but today he had a gig and you would have to end up going.

You and Elle were sitting on your bed in your underwear and bra eating a huge assortment of candy and snacks while re-watching Sex Education.

“Wait have you confronted Theo about cheating on you yet” Elle asked with a lollipop between her lips

You groaned you wanted to but every time you thought about it all you could do was want to punch him “I wanted to trust me but I just wanna hurt him y’know I don’t need his half-assed apology”

“Wait so why don’t you just ditch his gig” Elle inquired

“I would but imagine your girlfriend just ditches you with an explanation because remember he doesn’t know I know he cheated on me” You threw your head back- it was gonna be really hard to get him back

“Hmm does he have like y’know enemies that you can y’know… fuck” Elle suggested

“Elle we’re not in a wattpad fan-fic, Theo doesn’t have enemies per say” You rolled your eyes… but he did have someone who pissed him off to no end

You shot up with a plan in mind, “But he does have someone he kinda hates” You said while you carding through your closet trying to find an outfit

“Oooh who” Elle sat up like a curious dog

“Vinnie” The name was met with a huff from Elle

Vincent Cole Hacker, lead guitarist and singer of his band and adored by girls all over the country.

His killer style mixed with his rough hair and piercings accompanied with the rings he adorned on each hand which trailed across his guitar with so much purpose you couldn’t help but think what else they could do.

The same Vinnie Theo hated, and the same Vinnie who could never take his eyes off you.

“Babe you're super hot but I’ve legit never seen Vinnie without his army of girls following him, are you sure he’s the one?” Elle probes and she's right Vinnie’s a chick magnet, you’d be lucky to find him alone, but Elle was also right about the fact you were hot, the way your hair sat, framing your face and the way you would bite your fingers, and look up at guys, batting your eyelashes and giggling- toying with their feelings- you had boys begging for you.

But Vinnie was the one you wanted.

“I know, I know, but I have a plan trust me”

You didn’t have a plan

All you knew was that Vinnie stared at you for far too long to be considered platonic, and no sane guy would give up a chance to hook up with you.

After about 2 hours, you and Elle were ready. She was wearing a denim skirt with a pink tank top and pink converse adorned with little accessories, while you were wearing a black cropped top with Dominic Fike embroidered on without a bra so you could see your nipples poking through the fabric. Paired with a black mini-skirt and pantyhose which looked like it was attacked by an army of cats and a pair of platforms with some other accessories here and there- you looked enchanting.

The pair of you got there around 30 minutes later and broke off, with Elle waking to the bar to get some drinks and you trying to find your cheating ass boyfriend.

The bass of all the people walking around made you want to turn on your heel and walk away. You had endured it for the sake of your boyfriend but now the air was filled with venom rather than admiration.

“There she is, hi baby” It sounded so goddamn awful coming from your boyfriends mouth but you had to play the part of the oblivious girlfriend for a little longer

“Hi Theo” You say with the only respect you have for him left and kiss his cheek

As he continues his conversation with his bandmates you zone out and look around while drinking some fruity drink his bandmates gave you. As you looked around you caught the addictive eyes of your target, Vinnie, and unsurprisingly he was checking you out, who wouldn't tbh.

As your staring competition played out you were quickly brought back to reality by your boyfriend telling you they were about to go on stage.

“Hey babe can I talk to you for a sec?” You asked and he went along with it, presumably thinking he was about to get some last minute action.

“Yeah baby, what do you want?” He asked, so fucking oblivious to what was about to happen.

“Who the fuck is this chick your making out with in this video” You said while playing out the video on your phone.

His mouth hung agape, this cunt thought he could have the audacity to be shocked.

“B-babe I don’t know what that is, I-I’m pretty sure I was like sure drunk” Seriously, the ‘I was drunk’ excuse?

He can do better than that.

“Are you fucking serious, I’ve been drunk plenty of times and I’ve never fucking cheated on you” Every gross and terrible emotion was bubbling up from inside you as you were about to overflow

“I-it doesn’t even matter I just kissed her your fucking overreacting!” Overreacting, this fucking bitch thinks I’m over reacting

With gritted teeth you said “Oh I’m overreacting? I’m fucking overreacting, well you wanna see overreacting?”

You didn’t even register what your body was doing before,

SNAP!

Fuck, your hand made contact with his face and there was a stream of red trickling down his nose while your knuckles were bruising up.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH” He yelled pushing you up against the wall, while his blood spilled on to your chest

On any other day you wouldn’t have been able to push him off but with the immense amount of rage mixed with adrenaline you were feeling you pushed him to the ground, with your head spinning you ran off into another room trying to catch your breath.

As you finally stood up from your hunched over position and walked over to the mirror in the room- shit my shirt has blood on it, I look like I killed someone

You try to get some tissues to take the blood off but it’s no use the blood is congealed and staining your white shirt so you grab a closed water bottle and try to figure out what dressing room you're in.

You hand slides across a red leather couch with stains and find a stack of polaroids.

As you shuffled through them you see a drummer and bassists clearly drunk and passed out on a sofa, in another one you can see a brunette making a face and flipping off the camera, and in the final one its a group photo 4 boys playing a song in front of a smaller audience- in the photo you spot a particular face- Vinnie.

And as fate has been so kind the tall blonde walks into the room as if on cue, “Oh shit, what are you doing here?”

But before you you can answer his eyes widen and he walks towards you, “Fuck are you okay” He says with knitted eyebrows as his hand hesitantly swiping the blood of your shirt.

“Yeah, it's not my blood” You say with a smile as you try to reassure him, but which only leads him to look at you, even wider eyed.

“It’s Theo’s” You continue as you sit down on the red sofa, “He kinda cheated on me so y’know he deserved it”

You play with your hands in your lap as you look up at Vinnie who's now sitting next to you with an unreadable expression.

“Well he fucking deserved it then” He says breaking the silence as you look up to meet his gaze, “If you we’re my girl, I’d cut my balls of before cheating on you”

You let out an obnoxious laugh while he follows you, “I’m serious though I would never do that, your to fucking hot for that.”

“Yeah yeah” You breathe out as you tip your head back on the sofa as you let Vinnie’s eyes rake over your body, huffing your chest so your tits press against your shirt, watching how he bites his lips.

“So any plans now that you're single” He was obviously trying to hint at you, so you played along.

“I dunno Vinnie, do you have any ideas for me?” You said sliding across the sofa, closer to the blonde boy

He hands trail over the blood on your shirt, staining his fingers and dragging his hand onto your jawline pulling your face up to his, so close but so fucking far, “I have a few ideas”

“Yeah”, You breathe out, “Show me”

Both of your lips interlock at a slow pace at first until he pulls your face away from him to breathe but his gaze drops to your spit covered lips and flushed out look before he smashes them up together for the second time and pulls you onto straddle his lap.

“God every fucking time I saw you with that prick I wanted to kill myself.” He confessed, letting his hands graze up your sides pulling your top off.

All you do in response is giggle whilst you tip your head back so he can lay a trail of saccharine sweet kisses from the base of your neck down to your tits. Your hands scratch his shoulders, bawling his shirt in your first hoping he’ll take it off.

And if Gods looking out for you, he pulls his shirt of ruffling if his hair and goes back to attack your chest with love bites, your hands reach to the back of his head grabbing a tuft of his hair as you throw your head back and moan as his teeth catch your nipples in his mouth.

“Vinnie, fuck oh my god” You moaned out, his hands moved to flip up your skirt and fondling your ass while you grind down on his hardened dick, then he takes shuffles around with his belt pulling it of and tossing it on the ground keeping you too connected with the bloody kisses falling from your lips on to his tan skin.

“Whenever he kissed you, touched you, my skin felt like it was on fucking fire,” He pulls of his pants with one swift motion as they fall to the ground with a light, airy thud, “He doesn’t fucking deserve you, your too hot for him,”

You pull off of him to stare into his eyes, “Vinnie, I adore you, but if you bring up my ex one more damn time while we're about to have sex I’m getting up and leaving” You say will as emotionless of a face you can pull.

He airs out a breathy laugh but rather than replying he flips the two of you over onto the sofa and rips your skirt of, “Yes ma’am,” He starts, “But we both know your not leaving to go anywhere”

He looks for a condom but I stop him, “I’m on birth control and your clean, don’t worry”, you say with the most poise you can muster whilst your under a 6 foot man

With his new found confidence, he lines up your entrance with his dick, carefully sliding in, going gently through your folds whilst you arch into the motion gasping out for him,

As your hands hook around his head to pull both of you into a kiss, he sets a ruthless pace, pounding into you like his life depends on it but not letting you relish a single moment of freedom.

He doesn’t stop for a second, not letting you rest whilst the entire room echos with sounds of skin slapping and it doesn’t stop, turning the melody of your skins coming in contact and the rhythm of your synched breathless moans turns the room into a orchestra of pleasure and carnal desire as both of you chase your release.

And it’s not far, you cum first with a loud moan and arching your back with your mouth in an ‘O’ shape and he’s not far behind cumming in you and dropping down on to you to place more hickeys all over you and claim you even more as his.

They say revenge is an act of passion, and while you're laying there, breath panting, legs sore and your ex-boyfriends biggest rival laying on top of you rubbing circles into your skin… you can’t help but think they're right, because what’s a bigger act of passion than sex? And what’s a bigger form of revenge than betrayal? And the best betrayal is the sight of your ex-boyfriend watching you limp out of a dressing room with your hair and makeup messed up whilst his rival follows behind you in an even worse state.

#bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie #bella's full works

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