#i love you so much for just putting up with that shit

[sooniebby]

First Drabble after a month or so… Anyway, reader is a bisexual man, deal with it. Kinks are: voyeurism, spanking, dubcon, cucking, manhandling, praise, lite feminization. Brief mention of m/f sex but reader is a bottom and is mentioned to have a cock. BDSM relationship. Tw. Girlfriend is a bit abusive so skip this if bad doms bother you 🫶🏼 no set character, but I gave him a name! A little long tbh, not even a Drabble anymore

The things you do to make your girlfriend.

“Ohhh! Gimme more, Mark.”

You roll your eyes, checking your phone as your girlfriend gets her pussy fucked by your “friend” Mark. They were too busy having the time of their life to notice you stopped paying attention to them.

Your girlfriend, Lizzy, just loved this whole cuck fantasy shit. Whatever made her happy. You tried many other times to tell you that you didn’t necessarily like it but she always somehow made you the bad guy.

It was your first relationship dealing with BDSM, she was more than likely right since she had loads of relationships before you.

Right? She wouldn’t use your naivety to her advantage… right?

Hah.

Anyway, she loved making you watch other guys fuck her. Especially if their dick was bigger than yours. Though you didn’t like her saying your four inches was small.

Some guys had two inches, you were perfectly fine.

She began moaning something about how big he was, you didn’t really care at this point. You didn’t even know if you liked this whole BDSM thing. Sure, being the submissive was cool at first but now it just felt… eh?

You certainly hated her way of being a sadist. You hated being a masochist. It wasn’t fun.

But, whatever makes her happy. She’s freaking Lizzy Powers, the hot girl from your university. Every guys falls for her.

There was particularly high pitched yelp that caused you to look up in concern but it seemed Mark had just manhandled her into another position. You huffed and just went back to watching TikTok thirst traps.

The few times you looked at them to pretend you actually cared, Mark seemed set at staring right at you. His thrusts would always get faster each time. Weirdo.

Mark was popular, just like Lizzy. Loved by many girls (and guys). He was supposedly good natured and kinda but you kinda found him creepy, especially right now.

Was there something on your face???

“Ooh, (Name)~!” Lizzy whined, “he’s so much better than you… Just look at how well he fucks my pussy.”

She looked over at you—you quickly forced a frown. She loved seeing you “upset” about the other guy fucking her. Something about getting you to try harder when you fucked her the next day.

It worked the first time, but after that, you stopped caring. You kinda stopped caring to fuck her as well. It wasn’t even that she was fucking all these other guys. Something just kept bothering you.

Maybe the fact she didn’t go on regular dates with you and there didn’t seem to be an end to the dominate actions she had.

A shrill voice filled the room, Lizzy was cumming. You used to always love seeing this part—just seeing your gorgeous girl coming undone.

Eh, you’ve seen it before. These days, you found yourself watching the guy fucking her instead of her. Which was bad, that was cheating, or at least that’s what Lizzy had told you.

So you made sure to not look at Mark as much. Mark pulled out and rolled off his condom, tossing it into the trash bin next to the bed. The loud sound of music was still ringing downstairs from the party.

You would’ve thought this dumb party would’ve been done by now. “Was that it?” You asked, standing up. “I have a test tomorrow so I need to get back to my dorm.”

There was a moment of silence as Lizzy and Mark stared at you. Mark simply nodded and moved to put his jacket and shoes back on. Lizzy however, looked furious. She stood up abruptly, putting on her dress and stormed over to you.

Oh no.

You knew that look. She was about to “discipline”you. Her punishments were so humiliating—you hated it so much. 

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Her anger radiated off her face. Though she only stood to your chest, she managed to make your heart drop. There was no fun in this. But isn’t this what these relationships involve?

This was just how it was.

Her harsh words began spilling out, probably promising a punishment once you reached your dorm. Or possibly even when Mark left. But knowing her, she’d get a kick out of him watching.

Maybe you should’ve gotten a different girlfriend. This one doesn’t exactly make you happy. The thought couldn’t go any further though when Mark cleared his throat, ending Lizzy’s tyranny with ease.

“Your submissive isn’t exactly listening to you. I don’t mean to pry,” though the smirk on his lips tells you otherwise. “He looks legitimately scared. No sense of pleasure in him.”

Lizzy scoffed. “And you can do better? He’s just new to this, but it seems to be taking forever for him to listen to me.” She said, harshly poking at your chest with her finger. You try not to show any emotion from the slight pain.

“I can. But that’s if you want your submissive to get a taste of what’s better.”

A pin could be dropped and it would’ve made more noise. You watch in awe as Lizzy practically turned pink in the face. Wow, you’d never seen her this anger. There was silent rage in her eyes before she pulled a quick smile.

“Sure. He’s all yours.”

But Mark looked over at you. He stood up and took off his jacket, walking over to you with a look of determination. “Do you want it?”

“W..wha..?” You whispered, feeling dwarfed against his tall height. Jesus, does he play volleyball or basketball??

“Do you…” his hand slowly reached up, gently grabbing your chin before forcing you to look up at him. Oh. “…want me to touch you? Show you real pleasure.”

“….yes…”

His lips pulled into a slight smirk. “Good boy.”

So here you are, pants less. Mark was kinda enough to let you keep your sweater on. Lizzy was sitting at the desk chair you once were. You felt bad for whoever’s frat brother’s room you guys were in. Poor guy.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Mark suddenly said, sitting on the bed as he patted his lap.

You huffed and moved over to where he was. “Attitude probably.” You muttered, looking down at the bed sheets. Ooh, sport cars.

A tug at your sweater caused you to yelp as you were forced to look Mark in the eye. “Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” With little force, he pulled you to drape over his thighs. They were quite muscular. Hm, maybe soccer?

You could feel Lizzy’s harsh glare on your body. It was just reminding you that she was so pissed over you having a slight attitude. Gosh, we doms all like this? You were seriously considering if you wanted to stay in this type of relationship.

Mark’s hand gently gripped your butt, softly massaging it. “I don’t think you deserve a punishment, but I’m going off what your dom wants. This can be really easy, (Name). Just count, okay? I’ll only go to ten.”

“Just ten?” Lizzy cut in.

“Ten is enough. He didn’t do anything terrible.” Mark countered. “Was I even speaking to you?”

You didn’t want to know the look Lizzy gave him. His hand gripped your ass before he released it, gently tapping it.

“(Name), what’s your safe word?”

You blinked, “what’s that?”

There was a tense silence. You tried to look up but Mark quickly pushed your head back down.

“Just whenever you want to stop. In case it’s too much.”

“Oh uhm. Stop should work fine, no?”

“Alright. You can always say red as well. Yellow would be if you just want a breather, okay?”

“Oh… would green be for keep going?”

Mark hummed, gently massaging your butt. “Mhm. Aren’t you smart?”

You blushed slightly. Oh, that was nice. When was the last time Lizzy complimented you?

“Starting now.”

You prepared for the worst. Whenever Lizzy spanked you, it was torture. Just hit after hit with no room to breathe. Didn’t help she would use those whips. It took you awhile to convince her to just use her hand.

Sometimes the damn thing would just start hitting your thighs or back. It was like she was purposefully missing your ass.

Smack!

Oh. What were you supposed to do? You could’ve sworn you were supposed to say something. That felt so weird, but you felt your toes practically curl as a gasp left your lips. He must’ve had experience doing this…

He gently rubbed the slight curve of your hip. “C’mon, count for me.”

Oh right. Counting…

“O..One.”

It went on, each time you momentarily went blank in the head. This wasn’t anything like Lizzy’s spankings. Mark was spanking you hard, definitely, but there still was a slight softness to it.

Hmm, you could probably revisit spanking.

“Ten…” You muttered, sighing in slight relief that it was over. You gently got up from Mark’s lap, ready to pull your pants back up but he pulled your back down.

“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing your sore cheeks. You heard the sound of a container being opened before a cooling substance was rubbing onto your skin. It was pure relief. A relaxed hum left your throat.

Lizzy coughed, breaking the moment. You almost forgot she was there. “Are you done with my boyfriend?”

“Hm, no. His moans were cute, I want to hear how he sounds cumming on my cock.” He said bluntly, causing you to blush in pure embarrassment. His cock?! He was going to fuck you?!

Lizzy sputtered as she stood up. “What?! That’ll be cheating!”

“It’s just cucking. A man can cuck a woman.”

“But—”

“—It’s only fair (Name) can cuck you too.”

It was wrong. But his words made you grin. Cucking her back? Oh that sounded fun. Finally, she could feel how you felt.

“Okay.” You suddenly said, removing yourself off Mark’s lap. “You can fuck me.” You weren’t scared about anything going into your butt. Lizzy has fucked you with a strap before, those were the few times you had the most fun during sex with her.

Shame she never wanted to do after the two times.

You grabbed the lube that was left on the nightstand from Lizzy and Mark’s previous fuck and drizzled a decent amount onto your fingers. Sitting down on the bed, you began to stretch your ass open.

It was pretty easy, you did masturbate this morning with a dildo. The entire time, Mark just stared at you with hunger, his eyes watching your hole swallow your fingers with ease. He was probably expecting some type of resistance.

“I’m ready.” You muttered, moving to get into a doggy position but Mark grabbed your hand. A shriek left you as he picked you up with ease and plopped you down into his lap.

This position… was embarrassing to say the least. Your legs were wide open, your cock hard against your tummy. Lizzy was literally right across from you, seeing everything. You squirmed, wondering why Mark was so set in humiliating you.

His lips suddenly pressed against your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. The sound of his zipper and slight shuffling filled your ears as his cock slipped out. Holy shit. He was definitely huge… maybe 7 inches??

“I want…” his hand reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look Lizzy straight in the eye. “Miss Powers here to see you cum on my cock, seeing you become my pretty little slut.”

Your cock twitched. His cock pressed against your ass, gently teasing your hole. Slowly, he lowered you down, letting the stretch become comfortable.

He was definitely huge. You didn’t understand how Lizzy took this thing without crying out in pain? Once he was fully in, you let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand that held your hip.

“Good boy. You’re taking me well.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your neck. “Now move.���

“What?”

“Ride me.” Mark simply said, gently patting your thighs.

Holy fucking shit. You were supposed to ride this guy while your girlfriend watches? Jesus. You moved slightly, gripping his thighs as a way to hold yourself help as you began bouncing up and down.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, your soft moans right behind it. This was better than any strap. You could feel him inside you—his heat. A shudder left you when his cock pressed against your prostate. You quickly tried to keep that position, gasping at the constant pressure.

You practically forgot Lizzy was even there. All you cared about was getting off.

No, all you cared about was making sure Mark was enjoying it.

That was a first.

You glanced down, wanting to see if Mark was enjoying himself. The sight caused your hips to stutter. He was staring right at you, a smirk on his face. His free hand was gripping at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart slightly.

He broke eye contact to look down at your hole, laughing slightly. “It’s so cute. Hey, I’m your first real one huh?”

“Y..Yeah..”

“Good. I’ll be your only too.” He said, delivering a harsh spank on your ass. A scream escaped your lips as you stopped for a moment, trying to process everything that was happening.

First and only? What?!

“Hey, why’d you stop?” His hands suddenly had your waist in its grasp as he pulled you back. You were once again looking at Lizzy, seeing her pure anger. Gosh, you were really betraying your girlfriend.

“Why are you treating him so gently?” Lizzy suddenly commented.

Mark hummed. “It’s his first time. You always gotta treat beginners like glass. Once he’s properly trained… I’ll fuck him like the whore he is.”

“Whore..?” You muttered, but before you could ask why he kept calling you stuff like that, he was suddenly making you bounce up and down on his cock. It was so sudden, so fast and made your previous movement seem like nothing.

If this is him treating you like glass, you wondered just how mean he got…

Your back arched as you cried out, resting your head on his back as the pleasure began to take over. It was so much. But you wanted more. You just knew he could do more.

You wanted it so bad.

You were too lost in the pleasure to even notice that Lizzy left until the sound of a door slamming caught your attention. “Hng…? Why’d she..?”

“Fucking finally.” Mark muttered, pulling you off his cock. You whimpered, feeling your cock leak dejectedly with pre-cum. He plopped you down on the bed and pushed your legs up, putting you in a mating press.

His cock easily slid back inside as he leaned down, grinning. “Now that she’s out of the way, I have you all to myself.” He whispered, his hips moving upwards in harsh staccato type motion. Each slap caused a struggled gasp to leave you in tandem.

“Been hearing all about how you were just her little cuck. Using you because you knew nothing about how these type of relationships work..” he mumbled, a groan leaving his lips when you clenched around his cock.

You couldn’t even care about what he was talking about. You just wanted to cum already. This position was so odd, you didn’t even know your body could fold this far.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, baby. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself as mine.”

“Y..yours..? What..? Ngh, did you..”

“Fuck her to get to you?” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. You blushed, shocked that the kiss was so sweet compared to the sinful thrusting. “Yeah, anything for you.”

Anything for you…? You didn’t get to truly understand just how deranged that sounded when he began to roughly fuck you. He managed to push your legs even further as he draped himself over your body, ravaging you like a cheap slut.

Your screams and his grunts mixed together as you gripped at the sheets beneath you for type of stability. If that stupid loud music from downstairs wasn’t still playing you were sure everyone would be able to tell you were getting your stomach rearranged.

“(Name)…”

You let out a strangled hum.

“Your pussy is tighter than hers.”

Yaaaay… first post back! Feel really proud of this one, though I didn’t mean to make it longer than a usual Drabble, felt like I had to add a lot of stuff before the porn… lmao.

@the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @flurrina @tehyunnie @remdayz @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi

#bottom male reader #x male reader #uke male reader #sub male reader #male reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #mlm nsft #x male smut #male bottom reader

[dante-mightdie]

I just want to be the 141’s resident nuisance (brat) Particularly to Price.

Walk into his office, stare at him for a second and then just turn the lights off and walk out so he has to get up to turn them back, grumbling to himself.

Seeing him in the gym all sweaty from a vigorous workout and asking him if he’s “Taking it easy today, cap?”

Fix him a drink and setting it just out of his reach.

Making snide comments or just lazing about in his office as if it’s my own personal lounging room, touching his bookshelf and looking through his very few photo frames.

did someone say poly!141 with brat dynamics

c/w: implied smut, poly dynamics

you drive them up the wall. don’t get me wrong, they adore you and would do anything for you. but you’re such a little shit and it’s a wonder that price and simon let you get away with this much

price plays the waiting game with you. lets you dig yourself a deeper grave before he begins to bury you alive with the consequences of your own actions

normally sends you on your way with a quick swat to your ass and a stern warning but this time he’d decided it was time to put you in your place. remind you who was really in charge

you practically skip into his office, a smile on your face and a glimmer in your eye which can only suggest mischief. the smile drops quickly from your face when you see johnny, gaz and simon in his office too

“what’s going on?” you pout, “having a team meeting without me, old man?”

price just gives you a closed-mouth smile, an unnerving laugh leaving him. a laugh you know he keeps reserved for his enemies, “no, love. we’re just about to take part in a team-bonding exercise. see, we need to figure out how to handle a mutual nuisance in all of our lives.”

“you talking about johnny?” you giggle, flicking the scot’s ear before he can smack your hands away with an unimpressed grumble

“very cute, lovie. but you know who we’re talking about.” the captain smirks, “‘bout time you had an attitude adjustment, hm? now, bend over the desk.”

#mw2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers

Chapter Four -

Honey, on your knees when you look at me

The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.

warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.

wc: 10k

authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didn’t think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. beta’d by: @superblysubpar

series masterlist | series playlist

songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think I’m Pretty, Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.

Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sun’s wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robin’s living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, they’re met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you. 

¨Shit.¨ 

Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch. 

A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm. 

A metal chain.

The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when you’re met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington. 

“No, no, no, no.”

The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harrington’s kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he must’ve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before you’ve even had any coffee. 

There’s a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didn’t just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didn’t say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? It’s the self-respecting thing, it’s what you told yourself you’d always do. 

Say no.

You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robin’s blinds. There’s an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasn’t the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run. 

You’re not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friend’s favorite snack. 

Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when you’re met with the mugginess of the Midwest. 

Steve’s chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still haven’t taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.

Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddie’s van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steve’s BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isn’t there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.

Steve’s side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way he’s probably singing along, or that curl that won’t stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.

Why is Eddie not here? 

You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward. 

He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.

The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesn’t notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whatever’s on the paper he’s holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music that’s loud enough to hide you a little bit longer. 

Your gaze lands on Eddie’s empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didn’t drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger you’d been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadn’t broken down, you wouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here secretly wanting to do it again. 

Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasn’t by himself anymore.

”The music’s a little loud don’t you think?” 

The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face can’t be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a ‘Jesus Christ’ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.

Point one - you.

Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that it’s you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.

Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesn’t break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.

”Wow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.” 

Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest that’s hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.

“Maybe I should report you to Eddie.”

“Most of the cars in here don’t run,” Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, “You of all people should know that.”

“Sounds like maybe you’re just bad at your job.” 

You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.

“Did you come here just to pick a fight?” Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes “Or do you just want another kiss?”

It’s impossible to sound out the word ‘no’ even though it’s just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead.  

“Is that it baby?” Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.

”No,” you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, “That’s not why I’m here.”

The little bit of self-control you’ve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.

”Are you sure?” He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.

“A-absolutely,” you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck. 

”Hmmm, I know what it must be then,” he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes. 

Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.

“You must be here to tell me when you’ll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?”

It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.

“The opposite actually,” clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, “I’m here to say that whatever happened last night doesn’t change anything.” 

The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you weren’t denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought you’d lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.

“So!”  You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, “You better get that out of your head right now. We’re not going on a date.” 

Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night. 

“We can be friendly for Robin’s sake, but it’s never going to happen again. I’m not your girl, Harrington.”

Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you can’t quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like they’re being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole. 

“If that’s how you really feel, fine.” He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. “I’ll take my chain back now then.”

 “No.”

“No?” He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.

”I don’t even know why you put it on me in the first place,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.

You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really aren’t ready to unpack yet.

”I left it!” Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, “I left it so you didn’t think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.”

The sarcastic ‘HA!’ you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know he’s staring.

”How about this, Steve?” You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, “I’ll think about it.”

Steve doesn’t take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.

”Are you serious?!“ You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.

“It’s simple honey,” he sighs with an irritated edge, “Give me my chain and I’ll open her back up so you can go run back to Robin’s and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?”

”This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let me out asshole!” 

A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.

”I’m ridiculous?” Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that you’re sealed inside as he walks towards you, “Look at yourself.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.

“I know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but you’ve always been a terrible actress.” 

“And you’ve always had way more confidence than you should.” 

Steve’s nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.

”I’m going to get back to work, you’re free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. I’m getting paid to be here all day baby, you aren’t, so just know that I’ve got time.” He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.

“Come take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.”  

Two can play that game.

He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

“I said,” your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you aren’t sealing your fate with the next four words, “Come and get it.”

Steve’s long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.

Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.

The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each other’s cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.

His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this. 

“Steve,” you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.

He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suck–hard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark what’s his intensify, leaving a bruise you’ll have to explain to Robin later.

”Yeah?” He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.

“Shut up,” you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.

“You're always so mean to me, honey,” Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.

”Yeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?” You bite, but it doesn’t sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.

Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.

“I think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,” he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, “The real question is…”

The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you don’t take.

“Are you gonna let me?” His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.

The humid air doesn’t help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.

”I could be so nice to you, baby,” he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. “Don’t you want that?”

Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.

“Gonna make me earn it, huh?” He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, “That’s okay. I’ll show you I’m worthy.”

His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan you’ve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.

“God, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.” He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, “Bet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.”

Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.

“Baby, are you gonna come already? I’ve barely touched you.” 

His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But it’s still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:

”Y- you wish it was that easy.”

Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral. 

“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.

He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.

“Need you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.” He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place. 

Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.

When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, it’s almost enough for you to forget the game you’re both supposed to be playing. There’s a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. 

His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know there’s no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.

Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue that’s seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isn’t just you.

“Fuck.” He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over. 

Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, “I thought you were supposed to show me somethin’?” 

His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.

“So impatient,” he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, “My girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didn’t she?”

“Steve - shut uhhhhohmygod!”

His mouth latches onto your cunt like he’s thirsty for everything you’re offering him, collecting your dripping honey that’s sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.

Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.

”Holy shit I -“ Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like you’re the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, “You’re gonna - fuck - Steve!”

His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you weren’t so far gone, you’d be scared you’re suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and it’s almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years it’s still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.

The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. It’s enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.

“Right there, shit, right there, right there, I’m gonna, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”

Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.

He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he can’t wait to hear all summer long. 

Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body can’t help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself. 

”Now what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?” Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head. 

The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know it’s going to hurt even worse walking away again. 

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.

You don’t give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more. 

Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like it’s the sweetest thing. 

“Want you,” you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.

”Baby,” He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him that’s still covered by the navy blue material you can’t seem to get off fast enough.

He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them. 

Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.

“You came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,” he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, “I just need to know this is what you really want.”

His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you can’t hate him anymore. 

“I really want it.” 

The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this. 

It’s all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.

“I’ll go slow,” he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. “I know you can take it, honey.”

Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain that’s telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights. 

He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesn’t get away. 

”So fuckin’ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.” Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. ”Wanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?”

“Mmhmm,” you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control you’ve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.

“Oh fuck, you’re still so - shit.” Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.

The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling you’ll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black iris’s threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.

”I want to look at you.” He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.

”Steve!” 

Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah?” He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.

“It feels, you feel -“

A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind. 

His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like ‘Steve’ is the only word you’ve ever known. It’s a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. It’s worse than before, and you don’t know how you’re going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.

”Missed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade you’ve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.

The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings you’ve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth. 

It’s easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.

Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.

”Oh my god!”  You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.

“I wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?” He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.

Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes. 

“Come on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.” He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.

Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder. 

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s iiiiit, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge he’d been teetering on since had you against the garage door.

A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.

The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.

Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car. 

“God, Eddie’s going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.

“How’s he gonna find out?” You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.

”Baby.” Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.

It’s harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. They’re warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in. 

He doesn’t notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. There’s less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not. 

Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you can’t fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.

”Let’s go get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.

You tell yourself you’ll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps. 

“I’ve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I can’t believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust it’s the real deal, you know?”

Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face that’s far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.

“I can’t believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.” You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.

”I told you he’s like 19 - “

”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,” you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.

”Wait, where are you going?” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.

”I should go before Robin -“

”What? No, she’ll be fine, it’s like noon. I’m sure she’s not even awake yet.” 

“Steve.”

”Honey.”

The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests. 

“Don’t run again.” He pleads with a whisper that’s barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.

“I’m not running, I’m walking.” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.

”I’m not letting you walk home.”

“It’s down the road-“

“I don’t care! You’re not walking. Let me close up and then I’ll at least drive you.” 

You don’t argue with the hurt expression on his face, you can’t.

It’s somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you don’t want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.

You aren’t expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence that’s filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.

”Thanks,” you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat that’s starting to feel like yours again.

He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him. 

His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isn’t as loud as you thought it’d be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robin’s apartment complex quickly comes into view. 

But he never stops.

“Steve, what are you doing?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past. 

“This is technically my lunch break, and I’m hungry.” He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, “You’re telling me you’re not starving after that honey?”

Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks. 

“Wow, your confidence always just astounds me.” Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.

”I think you like it.” 

You can’t bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.

”But if you really can’t stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, I’ll turn around right now, honey.” You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, “Just say the words.”

‘Say it, say turn around Steve.’

“Take me somewhere with fries.”

When you left Robin’s house this morning, you didn’t think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth you’re sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where you’d end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land. 

God, this was not a part of the plan.

“I got you strawberry,” his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.

“What if I wanted chocolate?” You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.

“That’s what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,” he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, “I’ll share.”

You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner. 

“No thanks, you can keep your cooties.” Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.

”I think it’s a little late for that baby, I’m afraid you’re completely covered in them.” He doesn’t hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls that’d been staring at him since the two of you walked in.

”Steve!” You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.

”What?” He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.

“I can’t stand you.”

It’s impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasn’t stopped showering you with adoration. 

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.” He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.

The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.

”So tell me something,” you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, “How did Steve Harrington, ‘king of Hawkins’, become a mechanic? I always thought you’d be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.” 

You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.

”Umm, I did work for my dad’s firm for like six months actually.” He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. “I think we hate each other even more now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude that's not why I asked -“

”Honey, you’re fine.” He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently. 

”Turns out I’m a terrible office manager. I’d get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and we’d lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.”

”Steve-“

“I knew he was going to fire me anyway, it’s fine” he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.

“So I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, he’d teach me a few things and turns out, I’m actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.”

He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall you’ve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.

”Well, it looks good on you Harrington.” You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you weren’t supposed to feel like this. “I guess.”

He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize he’s never going to get over you. 

Steve’s one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything you’ve missed. It’s all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didn’t actually lose his job in the morning. 

It didn’t matter though, he got his date. 

And when he pulls up to Robin’s he doesn’t hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesn’t ask for his chain back, and you don’t offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.

🌻chapter five

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #mechanic!steve #mechanic!eddie

[lymtw]

Toji watching as you're being buttered up, sweet talked, and undressed with unfamiliar eyes, right in front of him.

His eyes don't waver from your face as you politely smile at the half drunk man on Toji's right side. The man is slurring on and on about how you're incredibly easy on the eyes, and how you stand out even in the minimal lighting of the bar, while you just laugh and try to leave the conversation by disengaging, but once again, you're roped into talking with the man when he asks if you're single.

You would have said no voluntarily, but the question clearly struck a nerve with Toji. His hand went to the small of your back, his palm circling the area slowly. It wasn't that he was insecure, he could tell you loved him from the million times you said it a day, but it was his secure claim on you.

You looked at Toji for the first time in a minute, meeting his blown pupils with attentive eyes. You could see how irked he was by this man continuing to hit on you, and you knew that Toji would get knuckles bloody if you didn't say what you knew in your heart.

You kept your eyes on his, like you were being let into his thoughts. He was dead serious, not a glimpse of light in his eyes. You didn't want him to feel this way, so in an attempt to bring the slightest amount of comfort, you put your hand on his, squeezing with reassurance. After a few seconds of silent communication, he nodded towards the man who awaited your response.

You leaned forward again and told the stranger that you were happily taken by the handsome devil sitting beside you, pointing your thumb in Toji's direction. Toji turned and gave the guy a once over, confidence cascading over him at knowing that if push came to shove, he could rock this guy's shit. His menacing demeanor radiated off of him, making the man obviously uncomfortable. He was now being sized up by someone with much colder eyes. He nervously nodded at Toji, the action not reciprocated by the latter.

The man leaned forward, like he was going to start talking to you again, so Toji turned his attention back to you. He didn't need to keep an eye on him because the man was blocked off by him. Now, if the douchebag were to walk over to your side it would be another story, but Toji would keep him in check until he tried.

You take a sip of your soda water, some of it seeping down the corner of your lip when you hear the man address you again. Toji was quick to wipe the liquid off your face with his thumb, suppressing a grin at the small "sorry", you muttered to him. You were clearly fed up with this man who just wouldn't let up. Toji could see it in the way your eyes rolled every time you had to lean forward and look past him to look at the stranger again. Your audible sigh was the last straw. No one as grimy as this mole rat looking man should have the power to ruin your time out.

Just as Toji turned to face the man again, he grabbed his belongings and stood up, getting lost in the crowd of people around you. Toji was vibrating with adrenaline, his heart pumping in his ears from holding himself back. He had to remind himself that he wasn't out alone anymore like he was used to be. The last thing he wanted was for you to be scared and cry because he decided to make a scene and rip someone's face off.

You on the other hand looked socially exhausted, your head down on the counter.

"Baby," Toji coos, leaning in so that you can hear him. "I just can't take you anywhere, can I?" His hand goes to your head, his fingers running through your hair. "People see you, and they really can't help making assholes of themselves."

"I just wanna go home, Toji," you mumble, holding your hand out to receive the car keys. Instead, he takes your hand, pulling you up and onto your feet.

"Like hell. I'm driving." His hand is on your lower back as you step away from the bar. It goes down into the right butt pocket of your shorts, as he guides you through the crowd in search of the exit.

"You sure you're okay to drive?" You ask, looking up at him.

"I'm sober as a nun, baby." He grins at the little giggle you let out. He knew it was your turn to drive home this time, but he just wanted to lift your mood again after that dickhead drained it.

—

"You were eating up that loser's attention, weren't you?" Toji asks, side eyeing you then looking back at the road.

"It was nice for two seconds," you respond, looking out the window. "It's always nice to be considered attractive by others."

"So, i'm chopped liver, huh?" He smirks, glancing at you again. You don't respond, so he decides to cool it with the jokes. "It feels good until you start getting unwanted attention. Don't let dumbasses like that make you uncomfortable, mama." Toji's hand goes to your thigh, three squeezes to the plush to comfort you, this time. "Was about to murder the man, but he ran away like a coward." He side eyes you when he hears that intoxicatingly sweet laugh again. "Oh, that's funny?" He asks, a smirk on his face.

"You're insane," you laugh.

"Don't act like you don't love it."

—

Once Toji pulls into the driveway of your house, he has his intentions clear in mind. He's gonna show you how much he appreciates you. After all, you deserve it for knowing him so well and putting up with him. It's incredible that you know when he's not okay, but also when he's having a really good day, just by looking into his eyes.

You both exit the car, Toji quickly catching up to you on the other side. His hands rest on your hips as you walk, causing you to turn around and look at him.

"Face forward or you'll crash," he says, as you near the front door of your house. He pulls out his copy of your house key, swiftly unlocking the door.

You're glad Toji has a spare to your house. Who knows how many times the door would have been replaced had you not given him one. You have a habit of taking long naps, and because of it, you quickly learned that if you leave his messages unanswered for too long, he will show up at your door and knock aggressively until you answer. There was always the 'next time i'm kicking it down by the third try' comment when you finally opened the door, so you gave him the spare to avoid that scenario.

You walk ahead to your bedroom as Toji secures your house. He locks the front door, shuts the windows, and pulls down the shades before meeting you in the room.

He leans against the doorframe of your bedroom, and allows his eyes to rake over your body as you lay there like a starfish with your limbs extended.

"You gonna make room for me or what?" He asks, walking into the room.

You cross your legs together and throw your arms over your face. "Is that enough space for you? Or should I roll onto the floor to make more room?"

"Uh-uh. Nah, baby." Toji chuckles, reaching the end of your bed. He crawls towards you, effortlessly pulling your legs apart. "You're not gonna try this attitude with me. I haven't done anything to you, so put the brat away before I do it for you."

Your heart races at the threat, and you wonder if it's real, so you spare a glance at him from beneath your forearm. Contrary to his stern words, his hands are touching your skin so delicately. His fingers trace the harsh indentations the straps of your high heel left above your ankle.

"The cost of looking so fine all the time," he mutters, under his breath. You reacted like a child, only wincing at the pain once Toji paid attention to it. You didn't spare a second thought when you undid the buckles on your heels, opting to throw yourself on the bed immediately after they were off, but suddenly you needed Toji to make it stop hurting.

Toji kisses the damage, his hand wrapped around your ankle, loosely. "My own little shard of heaven," he hums into your skin. Your arms fell beside you on the bed as you admired the image before you—Toji's very high functioning attempt at healing you.

It was a welcome change, compared to the usual effect he had on you. Being Toji's lover turned you into a flammable substance, and he ignited you. He did everything he could to make his touch your greatest weakness, and now flames rise within you every time his hands meet your skin. Your body emanates heat when he trains your flammability with lingering touches.

This time was much different.

He was the chemical that put out forest fires, he was a breath blowing out a candle, he was soothing water.

He moves up your body, his lips trailing your shin before reaching your knee. His gaze meets your twinkling one. If he looks long enough, he can locate stars in your eyes. It's something that motivates him to keep going.

He takes up the space between your legs, his hand hooked into the waistband of your shorts. His fingers fiddle with the metal button and quickly undo it, pulling the zipper down before he leans forward to kiss you. You can feel the button to his jeans on your stomach, the warm metal heating up even more as it rubbed against your skin.

He chuckles, holding himself above you. "Feeling it, too, huh?"

You run your hands up his chest and the sides of his neck, before going up one more time to cup his face. You pull him closer, allowing your lips to lock with his again. Toji could tell you wanted to devour him by the way you held onto him so tight. Your hands balled up the back of his shirt into your fists, your thighs squeezing his hips.

He breaks the kiss, looking straight into your dilated pupils while you catch your breath. It was precious seeing you this way, so needy that your body started reacting on it's own. "You know, i'm always feeling you, princess," he murmurs to you, his face inches away from yours. "Want you all the time... It's almost ridiculous how often I think of fucking you." His lips press to the corner of your lips, tracing your jawline afterwards. "I say almost ridiculous because..." his lips go further, now beneath your ear, "it's my business, and I don't care."

You giggle at his attitude, your eyes shut as you thread your fingers through his hair. His breath reaches your earlobe, bringing goosebumps to your skin. "You don't care?" You repeat.

His eyes are lidded when he leans back to look at you again. "Not one fuck is spared for anything but you, ma." His hands go down to the bare skin your unbuttoned shorts revealed, feeling up the soft warmth of your waist. You squirm slightly at the roughness of his hands combined with his lustful gaze on you.

"I've got my eyes on you anytime you're in a room, got that?" He says, bowing down to kiss below your bellybutton. He looks at you through his lashes, seeing the small nod you respond with. "Do you get it or not?" He murmurs into your skin. "Gotta give me more, pretty girl."

"I know," you respond, propping yourself on your elbows to nervously meet his green eyes.

"Good. You don't take shit from anyone but me. Am I clear?"

You laugh, letting yourself fall back on the bed again. Your sudden fit of laughter brings a smirk onto Toji's face as he continues to kiss your lower body. You compose yourself, before responding to his question. "Only you, Toji."

"Mhm," he hums, his lips grazing the lace trimming of your panties. You lift your hips to let him roll the material of your shorts and underwear down. Your legs come up to kick them off. Toji sighs, "I know you wouldn't do me dirty, ever. You're too sweet. Practically incapable, mama." Your thighs became victims to his lips. Your delicate skin gained bright red blotches in uneven patterns, an act of worship from your lover.

You knew Toji this way—dominant and possessive. This was just the start, but even if he were to only mark up your lower body, you both know they're there. You'll think of him when you change your clothes, and if you don't mind them, a simple look in that direction from Toji will remind you.

"So wet, already." He can see the glistening of your arousal coated folds. "I've only been teasing you... and you're already this wet?" It's a rhetorical question. The sight has Toji practically zoning out, almost missing the flush on your cheeks from all the attention.

"Toji..." you whine, embarrased by the amusement he finds as he keeps observing you.

"Bless you, mama," he mutters, bringing his hands towards your cunt. The tip of his middle finger is the first part of him to make contact with your pussy. He glides it up and down once to see how much of your slick he can collect. You shudder at the contact, a sharp inhale lured from you.

"See that?" He holds his hand up, showing you the shiny coat on his middle finger. You look and in a split second you see him commit a heinous act, popping the finger into his mouth to suck off your juice.

"Jesus, Toji," you put your arms over your face again to hide the furious blush that ambushed it.

"Acting all disturbed when you know i'm about to put my mouth all over your pretty pussy."

You're in no place to argue when you know he's right, so you peek at him until you feel your nerves subside a little more.

"It's so perfect. Almost don't wanna make you cum." He stares at your glossy cunt, his eyes slowly trailing up your body to meet your flustered expression.

Your heart sinks. Toji was good at maneuvering his tongue. He's made you cum more times than you can count using just the muscle, so him telling you that you possibly weren't being given that option this time scared you a little.

"Could stay here forever... between these very pretty thighs." His hand caresses your one of them, his fingers splaying on it before squeezing the plush. "Say you'll let me edge you for hours, darling." He's asking out of courtesy. If he really wants to do it, there's no need to ask for permission.

"Toji," you laugh, dropping the smile when you don't see him laughing. "Please, no." You prop yourself on your elbows again, looking down at him.

"It'll be so good. Don't even worry your pretty little head." His hand presses against your stomach, signaling for you to lie down again. He goes back down, his gaze on your cunt again. He blows on it, watching you squirm at the gentle sensation. Something about the reactions makes him chuckle, lowly. You were so weak for him, you wouldn't last five minutes. With that in mind, his tongue peeks out, testing your reaction to it against your clit. Your hips push back against the mattress when the warmth meets you.

"Stay still," he says, before trying again. The tip of his tongue glides up from your entrance to your clit, eliciting a tremble from your thighs. He smirks to himself at the sound of your quiet breaths. Another stripe is traced between your folds, a more audible moan leaving you. Your thighs falter in their ability to stay open.

"What did I just say, ma? Stay still." He pries your legs open again and hooks his arms around your thighs. Won't tell you again. I'll bring out the rope next time you interrupt me."

"I-I can't do this, Toji," you say, your nervousness clear in your gaze.

"You've barely given me a chance, and you're already a nervous wreck?" He kisses your thigh, the act somewhat settling your nerves. "Just wanna play with you... and ruin you..." Toji can feel his cock throbbing more with every second that he holds back from devouring you. "...and make you cry from how bad you wanna cum. That too much to ask for?"

"N-No, I guess no-"

"Good," he cuts you off, a grin on his face. "Just lay there and look pretty. Take everything with grace like the good girl I know you are."

You sigh, not prepared for the next couple hours you would have to withstand.

—

"Wanna cum?" Toji asks for the nth time that night, a twisted smile on his face while he steadily curls two fingers inside of you. Your legs tremble in your mind fucked daze, your cunt messily covered in slick and Toji's saliva. You know the answer he's gonna give you and yet you still respond with the remaining ability you have to think.

"P-Please..." you hiccup, a fresh stream of tears falling down your cheeks to accumulate with the ones that already dried. "Can I?" you attempt to sit up, your abdomen trembling as you bend slightly before falling back. "Please, Toji?" Your chest caves in with a deep breath as you try to suppress a sob.

"No," he simply says, slowly pulling his fingers out of your pulsing cunt. With all the slick that webbed onto them, he was sure you would cum so quickly if he didn't manage his pace. He sighs, fascinated by the texture of the sticky fluid on his fingers. "Poor thing," he coos, as if his boxers aren't drenched with a significant amount of precum. "You look angelic when you cry for me." His hand strokes your thigh while he peppers kisses onto the other one.

You breathe shakily when you feel his hand getting close to your pussy again. "Ready to go again?" He asks, a sly grin on his face when he meets your glossy eyes.

"Toji..." you swallow, shaking as he narrows his focus on your ruined cunt.

"Hm?" He hums, dizzy on his own obsession with making you beg for something he doesn't want to give you just yet.

"Please, I can't wait anymore. You're killing me."

Toji didn't mean to take it this far, at first. He solely intended to make you feel loved after seeing the switch in your demeanor at the bar. He was gonna kiss up your body and whisper his favorite things about you while he made love to you. Then he was between your legs and you were looking down at him with that warmth in your eyes, visually proving that you loved him to death, so he decided it was best to break you instead. He had to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

"You can handle it. You're my good girl, and you know this gets me off, so you're gonna take it, right?"

Once again, you're left with no chance of refusing. What's another while of not being able to cum?

—

Toji was lapping at your cunt like you were fading away and he would never get to taste you again. He was relentless with your clit, pointing his tongue in order to abuse it with precision.

"A-Ah, fuck...Toji," you whimpered. "Please... please, Toji, please. Can I..."

"Mmm..." Toji hums, sucking on your clit. He's ignoring your pleas for mercy, too enveloped in your sweetness to think about your aching need to cum. He knows you want it, and little do you know that he's getting it to you.

"Wanna cum, baby?" He asks you one more time, his middle finger teasing your entrance.

"Uh-huh."

"Use your words, mama. Try that again." It doesn't help that he's thumbing at your clit, rubbing slowly, causing you to stutter and your thoughts to fall through.

"Y-Yes, please," you respond, shuddering afterwards. "Please, make me cum."

His fingers reentered you, immediately curling and abusing the sensitive spot hidden within you. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it with that devilish pointed tongue. You were completely ruined by the time you came. Toji pulled his fingers out of you, in favor making out of with your pussy, his lips gliding up and down your slit as you vibrated beneath him. You fisted the sheets beneath you, loud, broken moans leaving you as wave after wave of pleasure was inflicted onto your core.

"T-Toji!" You moaned, whimpering as he continued to devour you. Your juices covered the lower half of his face, dripping down his chin, and onto the collar of his shirt. Your thighs clamped around his head and your hand pulled at his dark locks as you rolled your hips against his face until you couldn't stand it anymore. "Oh god... oh fuck!" you pant. "N-No more, no more, Toji." Your thighs are shut tightly around his head, barely working to get him to stop.

He unlatches from your clit with a pop, his hands coming up to pull your thighs apart. You look at him through heavy, lidded eyes. His lips are glossy with your cum on them, his chin was dripping in it as well. After a minute of just listening to your heavy breathing, Toji climbs up your body again, your sensitive cunt twitching at the feeling of his jeans brushing up against it. His hands go to the sides of your head, sparing him stability so he lean down and kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips and his tongue as the flavor is distributed between your mouths.

He breaks the kiss, his face still inches away from yours. "You taste that, right?"

"Mhm," you mumble, lightheaded from your lack of breath.

"I can have that taste in my mouth whenever I want. Aren't you jealous?"

"Mm... no, 'cause you can always share it with me. Put some of it on my tongue. Some mouth to mouth action..." you spare a lazy grin for Toji

He chuckles. "That was a once in a lifetime thing, doll. I'm all for sharing anything with you, but that's all for me."

#toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #dilf toji #jjk toji #jjk x y/n #jjk fic #jjk scenarios #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #toji fluff #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fanfic #fanfic #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro toji

[mediumgayitalian]

“You ready, Lou?”

“Duh.”

“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”

“Yep.”

“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”

“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”

“Then I think we’re a go.”

“Gods, this is going to be great.”

———

Knockknockknock.

Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.

Knockknockknock.

“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.

Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.

Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.

“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”

She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.

“Chiron is leaving,” she says.

Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”

“With Mr. D. To some conference.”

“I heard.”

“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He left me in charge.”

“Probably wise.”

“I need an allegiance, Nico.”

“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”

She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.

“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”

Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.

(…And Will. Maybe.)

“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”

“…Lurk?”

“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”

“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”

“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”

“See ya!”

He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.

The next twenty four hours are going to rock.

———

“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”

“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”

“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”

“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”

———

Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.

“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”

“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.

“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”

With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.

“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”

Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.

“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.

Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.

———

“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”

“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”

“I hate both of you.”

———

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.

Then again.

It is camp.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.

“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

Caught.

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid.”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding dawns on her quickly.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

———

“Is he still looking?”

“No.”

“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”

———

Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.

He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)

For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.

“Neeks? Where’re you going?”

Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?

“Nico? You good, babes?”

He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.

“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”

“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.

For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.

And that is not all.

For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.

“What are you doing?”

“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”

“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”

Will and Reika exchange a look.

“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”

Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.

“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”

“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”

“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”

Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”

Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?

“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”

“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”

“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”

“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”

“Bleh bleh bleh.”

Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.

“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.

Coffee cake, save him.

———

“It’s not looking good, Katara —”

“I actually like that one.”

“— he’s totally onto us.”

“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”

———

To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.

As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.

Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.

Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.

It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.

Excellent.

“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”

“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”

Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.

“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”

Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”

That gives her pause.

That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.

“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.

Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”

“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”

She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”

“Hey!”

“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”

Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.

“Does that settle things?” he demands.

Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.

The camp erupts.

Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.

“Just — everybody quiet!”

It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.

“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”

Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.

“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”

“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”

The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?

“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”

“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”

Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”

Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”

“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”

“Yeah, but camp-wide…”

“Could still be possible.”

“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”

It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.

Like they’re believing this shit.

Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.

“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”

That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”

“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.

But his aura.

The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.

Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.

He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.

If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.

———

next

#can anyone guess what these dumb ass mother fuckers did. #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #solangelo #established solangelo #will solace & cecil markowitz & lou ellen blackstone #annabeth chase #nico di angelo & annabeth chase #my writing #fic #longpost

[somerandomdudelmao]

Have to say I'm loving Marble Sky. It's clear you put a lot of thought into the story and I'm excited to see where it's going.

Figured I'd weigh into the Oscar commentary going on and I think honestly the shirt he was wearing in the flashback when Ward was talking about how he ended up in space might say a lot about his character as a whole.

If you don't look at the shirt closely it says "the earth is fla-" and naturally people will fill in the missing 't'. A shirt that seems to support flat earthers is particularly tone deaf given he'd just walked into a building dedicated to science and specifically space. It's the sort of thing people would instantly react to and think lesser of Oscar for. Much like the fact that he comes from a rich family. Or the fact that he seems to embrace the world with puppy like enthusiasm. It creates an image of someone who is ignorant, who doesn't pay attention, and is careless to the point of being arrogant about it.

However looking closely that's not what the shirt says. it's just the text for the rest of it is small, harder to read and purposefully arranged so its divorced from the rest of the larger letters.

And I find that fascinating.

So reading the shirt properly it says "the earth is FLA-bergasting". This message I think has a lot of layers especially combined with Oscar's established fascination with aliens, biology and stuff that we have seen with him previously. It's a message that celebrates the world and all life in it. It's a message that acknowledges that understanding that world is impossible but compelling none the less. It's a message that says the earth is confusing and hard to understand and Oscar is not pretending to know everything about it. Some of this might be just my interpretation of the message so take that with a grain of salt. Still the difference between the first and second is interesting because in the first its a person asserting they know something as complete truth while the second basically admits they don't know anything at all.

Now apply this to Oscar. We're presented with a chaotic lovable doofus who is brimming with childlike wonder at the start of the story. We're presented with a "rich kid" who got into space because his parents paid for it. We're presented with a guy who seems okay with the slaughter of others in order to protect himself. A lot of people are looking at Oscar and seeing "the earth is Fla(t)"

However we've barely scratched the surface of this story or this character not to mention the situation as a whole. So I'm staring at the smaller hidden letters (metaphorically) and wondering exactly what is actually going on with this guy. Because I'm pretty sure "the earth is Fla-bergasting" and so is Oscar.

Thank you for indulging this long ask. I felt like ranting because I love Oscar and this story.

There are three things in this world I can look at forever. How fire burns, how water flows, and how someone carefully analyzes a character in whom I have invested a lot of time and effort.

Holy shit this is incredibly interesting and oh my fucking god you wrote the entire essay?? your brain?? is powerful??rjfkgi

#marble sky ask

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello could I please request civilian!reader staring at the batboys for a long time and goes “why are you so perfect and handsome, I’m so lucky to have you and I will protect you with my tiny body and hands” 🌸

Idk whether or not this is what you wanted anon but I hope you like it at least in some way 😂

Jason can’t help but let out a full belly laugh upon hearing your declaration after having stared at him for a full hour, as he walked over to you to cup your face in his hands and rest his head against yours.

‘How sweet you of chipmunk, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind whenever I’m in trouble.’ He murmurs as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

He found it extremely endearing and sweet that you would ever go out of your way to protect someone like him but he preferred if you were to stay at home where it was relatively safe. Jason cared way too much about you to loose you, even if the comment was made in a lighthearted way.

Gotham was far too cruel for someone like you and you both knew it, the city was bound to swallow you whole before you even made it down the street.

The other thing that stuck in Jason’s mind how you thought he was perfect and handsome, to which he would always respond with;

‘I’m far from being either of those things chipmunk, but I’ll take the compliment.’

Jason didn’t view himself as an ugly dude but nor did he think of himself as handsome either, he grew up in Crime Alley and was taken in by a billionaire, he never had times to focus on the way he looked or acted in the eyes of others. Until you of course.

To Jason, Dick was someone many would consider a handsome and perfect man while those same many often regarded him as the complete opposite under the same breath. So whenever you held his face in your hands and called him handsome or perfect with a look of utter love and adoration in your eyes, Jason can’t help but find himself slowly starting to believe that he was in fact a handsome man.

If anything Jason views himself as the one who is lucky to have someone as good and as perfect as you and he reminds you of it day and night, whether he was Jason Todd, your perfect man or Red Hood, feared vigilante of Gotham.

Dick: found it really cute that you thought you could protect him, someone who had the insane flexibility and agility of a cat, but he wasn’t one to crush your dreams and aspirations.

‘My hero has finally come to save me?’ He’d gasp dramatically as he practically falls into your arms, causing you to buckle under his weight and collapse on the bed and giggle at his theatrics.

However he wouldn’t dare let you put yourself in danger in any way shape or form for the likes of him, he refused it as this life had nothing but take and take and take from him anything and everything he held dear.

He still remembered how he felt partially responsible for Jason’s death that he tries to make up for it by being in his corner when it seemed as though everyone thought ill of him.

So Dick really doesn’t want you going and pulling the heroic card on him as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, he’d act like he could when in reality he was doing far worse then anyone could imagine. So it be better if you let him do the saving.

Now Dick was aware of his own attractiveness and appeal but when you were the one calling him perfect and handsome, he’s smiling widely and internally kicking his feet and saying silly shit like;

‘You still have a crush on me? How embarrassing for you.’ To which you respond with ‘Dick we’ve been dating for 8 months-‘

When anyone else calls Dick handsome they are pointing out an already pre established fact, but when you’re the one saying he’s handsome it has more meaning as it felt as though he was being shown something that he never knew was there before. He lived for every time you called him handsome and it wasn’t because of an ego thing, he just like you calling him handsome and would never want to live in reality where he never heard you say it ever again.

Damian;

‘I can protect us both without issue so there’s no need for that.’

He sometimes takes your word a little too literally, regardless whether you were joking or not.

He was the crime fighter out of you both, so just let him do all the fighting, he doesn’t want your eyes to be burdened with the violence and criminal activity that he was accustomed to.

Also when you called him perfect and handsome, Poor Damian didn’t know what to think as it wasn’t something he viewed himself as nor expected anyone outside of his family to either.

He could handle insults and such but soft words laced with love and care towards him was an entirely new feeling for him in general that it both scared and excited him simultaneously. Besides Damian wasn’t interested in tibial things such as being conventionally attractive or whatever troubles the average person, he never thought it of any importance when other things took presidency in his life.

However when you compliment him, Damian couldn’t help but feel as though he was a little boy again, he would feel himself stiffen for a moment before the appropriate response came to him as easy as breathing, because caring for you was as easy as breathing to Damian and he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound wherever you are; for without you he’d be deeply lost.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff #nightwing x y/n #nightwing imagines #nightwing x you #nightwing fluff #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader

[buttdumplin]

The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

CW: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

~

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

~

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

~

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 x latine reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #i cannot emphasize the poly of this enough #this is truly some of the most self indulgent shit i've ever written and i've never been happier lmao #honestly this is just precious moments with each of them #i'm definitely going to be writing more 141 x latine reader #prepare to be fucking sick of me #frfr tho this is the first long thing i've written in years and ngl it feels good to be doing it again #also yeah i tend to sprinkle in commas like they're condiments

[luveline]

I've read your vampire eddie fic and its soo lovely I adore them being weird toghether <3 and I thought how will reader and eddie pass the summer? I totally see her saying shit like Vlad please put on some sunscreen lol and eddie be so grumpy

“It’s not that you don’t like it,” you’re saying. 

“No, that’s exactly what it is.” 

You sit down on the picnic blanket by his hip with a plate of summer fruit sweating in your hands. You’ve dotted a few ice cubes through the mountains of it, water melting, turning pink from the melon and yellow with the pineapple juice as the sun bears down.

“The sun is good for you,” you say, taking a slice of apple with green, bright rind in between two fingers. You have very pretty hands, Eddie’s thought that ever since you met, and they’re prettier still because of how you use them, you’re oh so gentle. “Just like this.” 

He won’t let you feed him, taking the apple as you press it to his lips, juice and water wetting his fingers. “The sun does nothing for me. I’m dead.” 

“Are you?” you ask, a genuine curiosity to your tone as you put the plate in front of him. Eddie, on his front, anticipates your next move before you’ve decided, not just because of his super senses but also because you’re a predictable creature, who loves him very much. Unlikely and true. “I thought you were only half dead,” you say, resting a hand by his ribs and leveraging yourself across his back in a hug. “Well, I thought you were undead.” 

Eddie is regrettably undead. “I forgot you were the expert on my condition,” he says, putting the apple slice in his mouth whole.

“Your condition,” you say, your face slotting into the back of his neck, forcing him to close his eyes and settle into the blanket, grass beneath it crisp from the heat. 

“My vampirism.” 

“Ah, I thought you meant your behavioural issues.” 

“Of course you did.” 

You don’t say anything back. Quiet, your hands slide up in front of his armpits, your head lolling heavily to one side. You mouth a word against his neck, a second and third, but Eddie can’t decipher what it is you’re saying even with his incredible hearing, can only feel the soft curve of your lips as they shutter closed, hot like a fresh bruise beneath his ear. 

Eddie nudges you to slide off of him, turning, cautious of the plate, to offer you his arm, and to see your face more clearly. You’ve forgone any of your fun makeups today, weary of the heat, all your wrinkles and lines in stunning detail under his gaze.

You lay on your side and Eddie lifts the arm that isn’t supporting him with his finger bent into a tight ‘n’ to stroke the skin under your chin. “You’re pretty,” he says, his knuckle rubbing back and forth. 

“You’re beautiful,” you say back. The hair at the nape of your neck is damp with sweat, and as you both lay there in the humidity, a bead of it races suddenly to sink into the fabric of your top. 

“You’re really pretty,” he says, ignoring your deflection —though for you, he doubts it’s a deflection at all, only a thought you’d had and spoken without qualm— in favour of lavishing you with some more love and praise. He opens his palm and touches his fingertips to your cheek, conscious of the heat, stringing the words together slow as the heavy pour of a maple tapper, “I don’t like the sun, it’s hot, and I’m melting, but I don’t think I mind it when you’re here too.” 

Your heart does a jump, to his smugness, an audible caper of your pulse. “Everything’s better when we’re together,” you say. 

He nods severely and lifts your chin just a touch, tilting his head to the side to kiss you. The pressure of his fangs is forgotten, a blood sate too far away to ignore the more nefarious longing that thrums at the centre of his chest, but overpowered anyways by practice, and desire; he’s gotten a thousand times better at kissing you, because you like to be kissed, and he likes to give you anything he can. 

He can’t pretend he doesn’t like this, either. You cover his hand with yours and wade in like a quick tide, pulling back and pushing in, like nips without the pain. Your hand slips into his hair. “I love you,” you say, “but you’re sweating like crazy.” 

“You’re sweating worse,” he says. 

“We’ll have to take a vacation.” 

“Where do you want to go?” 

“Literally everywhere cold.” 

Eddie can’t leave Hawkins. He needs blood, and there’s only one sheriff who’s willing to source it for him. But it’s a nice idea, a fantasy he won’t ruin for you. “Where’d you want to go first?” 

“I wanna go to that place with the Northern Lights. We’d never complain about sweating again.” 

You squint at him. 

“What?” he asks. 

“Where do you want to go?” you ask. 

“Anywhere with you.” 

“Well, you’d have to.” 

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he asks. 

“I’m your only portable blood bag, Eddie.” 

He lays back on his back, covering his eyes with an arm as the other comes to rest on his soft stomach, whirl of a scar thick beneath his shirt. “Never gonna happen.” 

You shuffle closer to him. “One day,” you say, laying down next to him with your face nearly flat to the blanket, the heat of your body a palpable thickness he wouldn’t change for the world, dehydration inevitable. “You’ll give me a nice sharp kiss and that’ll be that.” 

“Never.” 

“Imagine it.” Your voice turns to a whisper. 

“Never, babe,” he says, he promises, the weight of his arm over his eyes like an iron. 

“I’ll just have to bite you instead.” 

You open your mouth and press your teeth to the hill of his shoulder, dull and wet, your breath like a kiss before you let your lips drift shut and give him a proper one. “Love you,” you say. 

“Love you, freakazoid.” He wrestles you into a cuddle he’ll regret sooner rather than later, wishing his vampirism were better at keeping him cool. He’s cold to the touch most of the time. Right now he’s baking. “But I’m not biting you,” he says into your forehead. 

You laugh breezily. “Not today you’re not. That’s why I made fruit salad.” 

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

[hurthermore]

hii!! ur writing has a choke hold on me!!🤯anyways, im so deprived of some comfort rn- could you maybe do something related to aftercare? For ex: Alastor comfort after a bit of degradation was taken too personally from reader :> (maybe some comfort while bandaging them up too idk)

Literally obsessed w ur shit ur like my fav hh writer, and ty for reading :3

Of course!<3 and TYSM!! That’s so sweet<3 warnings for sexual content, fluff? (Idk what fluff is apparently from my death one shot)

Your Alastor had always liked indulging in a bit of rough and degrading play; but this time he had went to far.

He had crossed one of your boundaries he hadn’t been aware of, calling you a degrading name you weren’t okay with; and as soon as that word left his mouth, you had become stiff.

Alastor had noticed immediately.

Stilling inside you, halting all movements, Alastor could only look in your eyes as he searched for consent within, searched for anything in your expression that still said you wanted him to continue; but he could not find it.

“Is everything quite alright, darling?” His tone harshly contrasted the nasty and rough demeanour he had with you only moments ago; now giving you a loving and soft voice as he checked in on you.

Looking to the side, you avoided his gaze as the word he used on you still pang through your chest. “Don’t call me that ever again.” You had spoken more harshly than intended, with a sharp snap in your tone, verbally indicating your distressed mood.

Immediately, Alastor had pulled himself out of you, only to wrap his arms around your torso, pressing his face in the snuff of your neck as he registered you were referring the to not so pleasant name he had called you as he fucked himself inside of you. “I’m sorry, darling.” He had meant it; truly. The dousing of guilt that consumed him as you emotionally pulled away from him had him panicking ever so slightly. “It won’t happen again.”

Sighing, you knew he had meant his apology, and despite how much the word he used had hurt you, you knew he had no ill intentions when using it; he merely indulged in a bit of degradation that you also found sexually arousing.

Placing a hand against the back of his hair, you tilted your face back to his. “It’s okay love; just please don’t say that again.” You had whispered ever so softly in his hair, only to feel him shiver from your breath cascading down his neck.

“Would you like to stop?” He had mumbled against your skin, asking for your consent to continue the sexual encounter.

“Yes…”

You weren’t in the mood anymore; and as soon as your deny for consent left your lips, Alastor clicked his fingers against one another. On command, the room you both inhabited slowly changed, warping from the confines of your shared room to a familiar one filled with items of pampering; a room Alastor only brought you to after he had made love to you or fucked you.

He had always been a gentleman to you, despite his preference to be less than gentleman-like whenever he pummelled himself into your walls, he always put your pleasure and your needs before his own.

It was something you were grateful for; and one of the many reasons you loved him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, Alastor began hoisting you up, guiding your legs to link around his naked waist as he carried you to the large, hot bath imbedded in the floor; a bath which mimicked one of a hot tub in size.

Stepping inside, his hooves clicked against the metal alloyed bathing area as the two of you began to submerge within the hot water; it’s temperature relaxing all of your muscles as it began to douse your body.

Alastor had slowly settled you down in the bath, only to take a seat beside you as he held you close, his hands stroking parts of your body as he continued to comfort you.

You believed you would fall asleep if this were to proceed.

“I am truly sorry, my love.” He had spoken with such honesty and vulnerability as he held you, apologising to you yet again, despite doing so earlier.

“It’s okay, Al.” You only responded with a soft sigh as you leaned yourself against him.

“You know I don’t mean those things during our rougher sessions, don’t you, my darling?” He had asked ever so softly and gently, attempting to approach the subject in a calm manner, one that would be proefficient in cheering you up; his beloved.

You had only mumbled a yes, nodding your head as Alastors lips began pressing themselves against your neck. “I know, love. It’s just- that word.”

“It won’t be used again,” He quickly interrupted you. “My perfect little darling, I swear it.” He said between the pecks of romantic kisses he placed against your neck.

The smile that enriched your face wasn’t missed by your lover as you allowed him to pamper you, to echo sweet words of love and loyalties into you skin, to kiss sweet gestures of love along your body.

You were blessed to have such an evil man be your darling sweetheart.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut

[klonoadreams]

FERAL ROOK FERAL ROOK FERAL ROOK

Also to those saying Vil robbed them with what became of Rook

Y'all should be thanking him for getting rid of that hair, because that shit was 100 percent damaged. You can see all the tangles and split ends, there was no saving that hair, it had to get alllll chopped off. (My dude what did you do to it, its so dead lookingggg)

It looks so much healthier now, and the same goes for his skin that he was getting sunburnt and freckles. MY GUY AT LEAST PUT ON SOME SUNSCREEN, YOUR SKIN WILL FLAKE ROOOK PLEASEEE

I fucking love this dorky ass feral dandy djdkjcnf

WAIT HIS HAIR COLOR IS BRIGHTER TOO??

Rook you nasty freak, DID YOU EVEN SHOWER??

imagining Vil giving this man a bath the very moment he steps into Pomefiore like "I'VE BEEN WANTING TO DO THIS FOR AGES"

Rook really is that feral cat you pick off the street and just clean up, and now he just lives there

#klonoa speaks #twst #rook hunt #twisted wonderland #savanaclaw #i am so feral over this #but also god damn rook what did you do to your hairrrrrr #its a messsss

[lazyjellyfish300]

Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader

TW: Minors DNI, what plot??? smut(handjob, praise, cum eating, Miguel is kind of a sub in this one), mention of oral sex f receiving at end) words: a little over 700

A/N: someone take my phone 😫 just wanna make him feel loved while I- [REDACTED] anyway....I can't think of a title for this either 💀 NSFW under the cut

-----

Jerking off Miguel while you shower him in praise. You'll be sitting in his lap so you're above him like the goddess you are, running your fingers through his hair with one hand while you cup his pretty face with the other, letting him knead and massage your thumb with his warm tongue while he's moaning and groaning when he feels your aching pussy grind against his cock. 

"So pretty, baby...." You coo above him, letting your tits bounce in his face. 

"Mmm...." His eyes widen when he feels one of your hands grip his hard cock through his boxers. 

"Ah-Ah....baby..." He pleads, releasing your thumb and letting his head fall back, those beautiful rubies staring up at you. 

"Aww, my baby likes this?" You purr sweetly, giving him a little squeeze and a rub with your hand. 

"Mmmhhhnnn....cariño, porfa..." He babbles, eyebrows knitting together. 

"Shh, Shh...." you tease, slipping your thumb back into his mouth as you caress his cock with the other, adding a little roll of your hips. 

Miguel's eyelids flutter and he lets out a huge groan. 

"Mmmmm.... that's it. My boy...my pretty baby..." You tilt your head, eyelids half-lidded. "So handsome...." 

Miguel's lips twitch into a smile as he sucks your thumb again, cheeks turning a blooming red. 

"Mmm...you're so good baby. How'd I get so lucky with you, hmm? My beautiful, beautiful boy...." 

"Oh cariño please...." He pants, doing his best not to cum. "Please..." 

"Please what, baby?" You breathe out, pouting your lips. "Hmm...what do you want from me, sweetheart?" 

"I wanna cum...please let me cum..." 

You smile and lean in, giving him a deep kiss, grinning slyly when you feel him moan at your tongue in his mouth. "Go on, baby...cum for me..." 

"Ohhh cariño...ahh....shit..." He grabs you and presses little kisses onto the swells of your breasts then he lays his cheek against them, resting and holding you while he enjoys you rubbing his cock which you've now fully freed from his boxers. 

Your foreheads meet, he's whimpering, quietly panting, holding onto every sweet word about him that tumbles from your lips, getting drunk off the sound of your voice. 

"You're so sooo sexy when you're underneath me like this.." You emphasize each word by making each stroke of his cock drag a little slower with your soft palm. 

"Mmmm!" He groans. "You...are... unbelievable...." 

"I'm making my baby feel good?" You ask sweetly.

"So good..." He pants a little harder. "Keep talking like that....please, baby. N-need more..." 

"Aw...." You gently tug his hair back, making him look up at you while you continue rapidly stroking his cock with your other. "My handsome boy needs to be praised?" 

He nods desperately, damn near in tears from all the pleasure you're delivering from just your hand, the sight of his gorgeous girl above him spoiling his cock so beautifully. "Please, mi amor....?" 

"Oh baby..." You coo. "You're so good..." 

You start panting a little as you move your hand faster, his precum starting to seep from the tip. 

"You're absolutely perfect...." You kiss his neck, moaning directly into his ear.

"Such a beautiful face, mmmm....a beautiful mind. Mmmmm....my sweet baby works so hard *kiss* and he's, so, so smart..." 

You're driving him wild as you tilt your head, tracing his face softly with your finger as he sighs. 

"....mmmm those gorgeous red eyes....those full, perfect lips..." 

You kiss him. "Taste so sweet..." 

"Fuck I'm gonna....oh cariño..." He groans into your mouth. "I love you..." 

"Mmmm...I love you baby....you don't know how much I do....mmm..." You close your eyes as you lock in, trying to put off the ache in your hand so you can make your sweet boyfriend cum.

He shakes violently and your eyelids flutter as you watch his thick cum spurt all over your hand and fist, using it as lube to give him a couple more strokes as a little extra.

He breathes heavily, his mouth falling open and cock twitching again when he sees you slowlyyy bring your hand to your face, licking up his cum and dragging down your bottom lip, rolling your hips with a pretty smile on your face. 

"God I love you..." He groans.

-------

He spent like two hours eating you out and pulling orgasms out of you after that -

@hislastbimbogff 🖤🫶🏽

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut

[zanarkandskylines]

listening to fortnight got me thinking about bakugo and reader having a very brief fling, something that happened in the past during their 20s, but stuck with both of them for years.

i touched you for only a fortnight i touched you, but i touched you

fast forward to living in the same city, the two of you now in your 30s and end up becoming neighbors by happenstance. you're both married to other people since you only talked in shared friend group settings after said fling.

all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february

you watch his wife water her flowers in the garden out back while making coffee in the kitchen every goddamn morning. you have no clue why it irks you so much, that the sight of her stupid smile makes you wanna punch her lights out.

occasionally, you run into bakugo at your mailboxes after a long day at work. small talk is the only thing you two can muster - a comment about the weather or harmless compliments about each other's appearance.

"sure rained like hell yesterday."

"nice sweater, your wife buy it for you?"

"god, it's too fucking hot today."

"that dress looks nice on ya."

one night, both of your spouses are away when a storm comes raging through the city. your power goes out, leaving you in the dark because your stupid husband forgot to replace the generator. from your windows, you see bakugo's household has power and decide to hightail it over for some company.

he answers the door with a confused look on his face. "the fuck you doin' in the rain? get in here!"

bakugo makes you a coffee to share with him in the kitchen, bullshitting through the night like you used to do as twenty somethings. it felt natural, your heart soaring as you watched him laugh and retell jokes from the past. when the conversation died down, you blurted out something you didn't plan to vocalize to anyone.

"i think my husband's cheating. sometimes i just wanna kill the bastard."

caught off guard by your admittance, bakugo quirks an eyebrow at you in response. "little extreme, but i'm sure that could be arranged."

"would be cheaper than a damn divorce. that asshole would take everything from me."

he snickers, taking another sip of his coffee. "think my wife's doin' the same. comes home late and shit, never can tell me why."

"how'd we get stuck with this shit luck?" you retort, forcing a laugh from your tightened chest.

"could be worse. we're neighbors, that's fuckin' lucky for me."

i love you...it's ruining my life.

"oh? i'm starting to think that's not a coincidence anymore."

bakugo sets his mug on the countertop, turning to face you while crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest.

"might'a convinced my wife to move here. thought maybe we could be friends again."

"so you bought a fucking house next to me instead of just calling to go to dinner?" you ask mockingly, a smirk on your face as you awaited his bullshit answer.

he shakes his head with a grin of his own. "sure did."

i love you...it's ruining my life.

"how come you never ask or invite me over then? we're literal neighbors, kats."

"pretty sure my wife's scared of ya. plus, i want time with you, not us."

that makes your heart skip a beat.

"hell of a way to say you miss me." you pause before setting your own cup down on the counter. "i'm glad you're here."

"me too."

right as he's approaching you, the front door swings open.

"babe, i'm home!" his wife calls, handful of shopping bags. she sees you standing in the kitchen aside bakugo - you give her a soft wave.

"oh, hi. i didn't expect company tonight."

"her dumbass husband forgot to replace their generator. just helpin' her out."

she gives him a glare, tilting her chin up at him, almost condescendingly, as she assesses his answer.

"how unfortunate. stay as long as you need, i'm gonna go put this away."

and with that, she leaves for their bedroom to unload her shopping haul. once she's out of earshot, you turn to bakugo and chuckle under your breath.

"oh yeah, she hates me."

bakugo rolls his eyes. "let her be miserable, it's her strong suit. come on, let's go take'a look at that generator."

the generator works just fine, you unplugged it before coming over.

you were curious if there was a spark leftover between you two, only to find the fire was not only stoked, but never fully extinguished.

blasty tags; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq ✨

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo x y/n #bakugo drabble #bakugo imagine #bakugou headcanons #bakugou drabble #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugou #☆.rei writes

[ffsg0jo]

tw: grief, death, illness, and angst - i wrote this in like half an hour and i was really in my feels, so pls excuse me if it's bad

uncle sukuna, who's been in and out of jail, is always seemingly in trouble with the law and couldn't give two shits about it. ever since leaving home and his twin brother behind, he's only lived for himself and himself only. he'd be damned if he lets anyone change that.

he receives a voicemail from his brother one day, telling him he's had a little baby boy called yuuji. jin wants to put everything in the past behind them and would love for his brother to meet his precious son. sukuna only scoffs and deletes the voicemail almost immediately.

it's only when jin texts him a video of yuuji (who he's surprised to see almost looks exactly like him, minus all the tattoos) 8 months later babbling what could be interpreted as "papa", does he falter. the kid's adorable, but sukuna isn't ready to face his brother just yet.

many more months go by, and jin seems to have taken the hint. except he gets sent another video, this time on his birthday. he clicks on the video, unable to resist and its yuuji, wobbling on two legs, clapping his hands, and singing his own version of happy birthday (??). he's gotten so much bigger and looks so much like his father.

the only word sukuna recognises from yuujis incoherent nonsense is 'kuna', and his heart softens. he messages back a "cute." and leaves it at that. jin sees the message and doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

jin messages him again a week later, only this time sukuna's heart drops. kaori's dead, and her funeral's next week. he's only met her twice, but she was good for his brother, and she was always good to him too.

he sees his brother for the first time in years at the funeral. jin's hair is a mess, his face unshaven and sunken in; grief seemed to have aged him 10 more years. sukuna's many things, a bad brother included, but something in him breaks when he sees yuuji screaming in his father's arms, not understanding where his mum's gone.

he doesn't know why, but he walks up to jin and offers to take yuuji instead. the toddler immediately calms down in his hold, now more confused as to why there's a man that looks exactly like his dad but with sharpie all over him. jin breaks down, stammering out a thank you, and excuses himself, leaving sukuna alone with his nephew. he'll hunt down his brother later, but for now, he'll keep the brat occupied so his dad can grieve.

sukuna hears from his dad that jin's fallen ill months later. he's speaks to his brother more often now and has even met up with both him and yuuji a couple of times. but jin's never mentioned being sick. he's been looking worse, for sure, but he just put it down to being a single father to an energetic toddler.

he moves in with them the next week. jin keeps getting worse and even little yuuji's noticed.

sukuna tries his best. he really does. he's not been there for jin previously, but he makes sure he's there now when it matters. it's all new to him, caring for people. he tries to cook the most nutritious meals for jin, making sure they're yuuji friendly too. he makes sure the house is always clean, even though yuuji's making a mess every 10 minutes. he changes diapers (both yuuji's and jin's), bathes them both, and tucks them both into bed. he even reads yuuji a bedtime story just to maintain normacly even though he hasnt read since he was a child.

he checks up on jin, constantly seeing if he's feeling okay and gives him his medicine. he holds onto jin with the utmost care (almost carrying him) when they go to visit kaori's grave or when yuuji insists on both of them coming to the park with him. when jin can't sleep at night due to being in excruciating pain, he's there. by his side and holding him. he's never been this affectionate, but he's also never had a dying brother before.

it's still not enough, though. the last couple of days were the hardest, and even yuuji knew enough to be on his best behaviour.

sukuna silently sobs into his pillow at night, when the whole world's asleep. he's filled with regret and hatred for himself, but he knows it's too late now. he tells his brother he loves him and that he promises to take care of yuuji no matter what. jin only smiles, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and tries to kiss his cheek as a thank you, and i love you too.

jin died with one arm holding yuuji, the other holding sukuna's, and his wife's name on his tongue.

sukuna was left all alone, once again. except this time, he had no brother to give yuuji back to. as he promised jin, the stars as his witness, he'd do anything for yuuji and to keep him safe.

his life was no longer his own. he had his nephew to think about.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

#🌻.sunspell #why did i cry writing this 😭😭 #jjk #jjk writing #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #yuuji itadori #itadori yuuji #jin itadori #itadori jin #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #🌻.uncle sukuna au #uncle sukuna

[tastesousweet]

Can we get a toxic!babydaddy Matt fic like I’m craving something about my man like it’s been days and I haven’t eaten

⭒ blurb : toxic!bd matt who . . .

toxic!babydaddy matt x poc!reader

warnings: toxic relationship, dad!matt (i understand if u don’t fw it), idk what else :P

mickey speaks: this is kinda different for me so ty for the req!! ik this is just a little headcannon set but i hope you luv this anon 💐

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . brings some girl he’s been “hanging out with” to your daughter’s third birthday party just to piss you off

he’d then get mad when you ignore him and his “friend” the entire party…

he’d come up to you as you watch your daughter play on the decorated playground from afar, “the fuck you bein’ petty for, y/n? i thought we were cool with seeing other people?”

“well i just think it’s rude, you didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone else. i don’t care who she is or what you two do it’s annoying from a planning perspective.”

“that’s my bad… you look good though,” he’d glance around for a second before coming behind you and hooking his arm on your neck.

he’d whisper in your ear while you both stare out at your lively daughter, “can’t believe she’s so big now… lookin’ just like her pretty mama.”

you’d roll your eyes and shoulder matt off of you, “matt, go fuck on the bitch you brought here. and stop saying shit like that to me.”

“jesus- watch your language there’s kids everywhere, y/n.”

you blankly stare at him and his cocky smirk that just aggravates you to pieces, “go awayyy, matt.” you whine out and pinch your eyes with a sigh.

and he laughs because everything’s a fucking joke to him.

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . your friends hate but you will always have a soft spot for, he is your daughter’s father after all

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . sends hundreds of roses to your doorstep for mother’s day

when you text him a picture of the ridiculous bouquets with a “????” he immediately facetimes you, “for the best mama in the whole world. you like ‘em?”

you shake your head and hide a smirk beneath your hand to scold him, “you do too much, matt.”

“uh huh i knew you’d say that…” he’d then ask to see his favorite girl, “now where’s my baby at?”

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can’t mind his business to save his life. he’s always asking you questions about your personal life; and you always shut him down

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can sometimes be a little too desirable when he drops your daughter off at your place (dressed nicely, smelling good, eyes bright yet droopingly eye-fucking you, etc), leading you to invite him in for a glass of wine or two

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . you sometimes find in your bed again when you feel particularly lonely and nostalgic

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . loves the few times he gets to to wake up to his daughter pulling on his hand and you by his side, fast asleep

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . tends to start arguments from the smallest things to get you to talk to him longer than you need to

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . will always put effort into being a great father (which you respect) despite never putting that same effort into your relationship

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . makes sure you’ll never forget he loved you first and is connected to you far deeper than any other man ever could be

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x black!reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x you #dad!matt

[miserycanary]

PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader 

synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost (pt.2)

tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst 

The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you. 

With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul. 

Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.

Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.

Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten. 

As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. “That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue. 

“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you. 

Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you. 

Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way). 

But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring. 

Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine. 

And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints. 

Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you? 

He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?

You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open! 

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#canary’s melodies #canary’s symphonies #simon riley x y/n #simon riley cod #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost angst #ghost mw2 #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost cod #ghost #cod fanfic #task force 141 #tf 141 #cod angst #cod #call of duty #modern warefare 2 x reader