#like i came out as lesbian and he said he thought about getting a sex change operation so i'd date him

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

tom

for the next few weeks, annie's life was very steady and predictable. she saw tom often. they went on dates, and they went back to his apartment and had lots and lots of sex. this was done with very little regard for the fact that alicia was still there -- no longer in the wheelchair, but still so unsteady on her feet that, for instance, tom had to help her in and out of the bath. annie was sure he didn't mind.

annie was loud in bed with tom, and tom was a talker. he loved telling annie what a good girl she was as he jerked off against her tongue.

tom could really fuck. annie could tell he was always paying attention to what she liked and leaning harder into it. every time they fucked she came harder or came more often, except sometimes, when tom sensed her desire to be used, and fucked her with no regard for her pleasure, leaving her to masturbate when he was done. she loved that.

alicia saw annie naked all the time -- annie had kept up with shaving her pussy, just because. but she also saw tom -- tom was not disciplined at all about closing his bedroom door, and so alicia frequently passed by as annie was blowing him or he was railing her hard from behind on the bed.

annie never saw alicia in less than her underwear, but tom told her when she wasn't around, alicia was "almost always" either bottomless or topless.

annie thought about them when, late at night she'd go home to robbie, and if casey hadn't been over to drain his balls, annie would do it on her behalf. what would tom and alicia think of this, she thought to herself as she guided robbie's cock into her pussy. it was becoming a rare thing, though, she and robbie. they both had someone they were getting serious about.

one evening, at tom's, annie and alicia got stoned while tom was out picking up dinner, and alicia asked annie if she'd help her with something delicate. "sure," annie said. "what do you need?"

"my hands are too shaky to shave my pussy properly," alicia said.

"say no more," annie said, taking her to the bathroom.

annie helped alicia shave everything, and she was dressed by the time tom got back.

"what did you two get up to?" he asked as they sat down to dinner.

"annie helped me shave my pussy," alicia said cheerily.

"really?" tom laughed.

alicia stood up and pulled down her jeans and shorts.

"nice handiwork," tom told annie.

"don't put them back on," annie told her. alicia let her shorts and panties drop.

"are we doing bottomless dinner?" tom asked.

annie stood up and pulled down her jeans and panties. "yeah." she said.

"okay," tom said. he stood up and pulled down his pants and boxers.

they laughed, sitting at the table, all bottomless.

"do you and your brother do this at home?" alicia teased.

"not specifically," annie said. "but we see each other naked constantly."

"was it always like that?" alicia asked.

"no," annie said. "i really feel like as a big sister i failed at that when we were teens. like, he should have been spying on my friends and me having lesbian encounters in the shower, right? what good is a sister for otherwise?"

"that was our aunt ellen," alicia said.

"she was the best," tom said.

they told her about ellen, her mom's younger sister, a wild, gay hippie who was in her early 20s when alicia and tom were teens. she'd given alicia weed, and had emailed tom a link to her friend's blog -- the friend was a photographer who took nude photos of ellen and her friends. tom told annie he would visit his aunt's apartment after school, and she would do things like take off her skirt and walk him through her anatomy. "she was never wearing underwear," tom said.

annie asked if she had a nice hippie bush, and tom said "no, no, she was always waxed."

"that's a very specific era of hippie," annie observed. she clocked that everyone was speaking of ellen in the past tense. she'd killed herself before her 30th birthday, alicia explained.

they walked around bottomless after dinner, enjoying the silliness and the sexiness of it. annie and tom made out on the couch and tom got hard in full view of alicia. when annie went to sit on tom's cock, he moved her to the bedroom, though.

that night, after two hard fucks, tom told annie something alicia didn't know about their aunt ellen. a few months before she died, tom said, ellen had invited him to an orgy at her apartment. tom had been 21 at the time, and had gone. "obviously," he laughed.

tom being a man of notable cock size, he'd quickly attracted attention at the orgy, which, he'd told annie -- he'd walked into in full swing already, everyone fully naked. he said there had been about 15 people there -- 6 men, 9 women. ellen had come right up to him at the door and undressed him, and then, as one of ellen's friend's sucked his cock, he'd watched his aunt fuck a man on an ottoman across from him. he said that as luck would have it, most of the men came within a few minutes of his arrival, and so for a brief time he was the only hard cock in the room, and the women had lined up to try his big shaft. he said it was obviously a record he'd never broken -- penetrating nine women in something like 10 minutes.

"wait," annie said, grinning. "all nine?"

tom smiled. "yes, all nine women in the apartment."

he said ellen hadn't even gone last -- she'd ridden him right in the middle of the group. the evening had gone on with lots more fucking and sucking, but tom had primarily spent it with two other women. but, he explained, everyone filtered out at the end of the night, and he'd stuck around. he'd taken a shower with ellen -- both of them were covered in cum. and ellen had asked him if he had ever fucked a girl in the ass, and he said no, and she'd said, "want to try?"

"she was your first?" annie said.

"yeah," he said. "and i lasted like 40 minutes because i'd already cum three times."

"that's so hot," annie said.

"i knew you'd think so," he said.

[formerweirdgirl]

old screenshot but holy fuck the audacity? "convinced her she's still a valid lesbian and its transphobic not to date me"

#radfems do interact #radfems do touch #radfems please interact #radblr #radfems please touch #peak trans #i barely know how to use tags i'm just kinda throwing shit at the wall and hoping it sticks #eerily similar to what happened with my abuser #like i came out as lesbian and he said he thought about getting a sex change operation so i'd date him #he never went through with it but i do think it would've been funny if he got his d/ck surgically chopped off and i still wouldn't date him

[maddy-ferguson]

i spent 365 out of the last 523 days thinking about a guy i liked when i was 12 because he was the last tether i had to hetero/bisexuality

#tmi alert: #basically in early 2021 i was like: am i a lesbian? i know i don't think guys are attractive and i wouldn't date one i'm gonna try to #determine whether or not i would sleep with one #and he was the one i imagined myself doing it with because he's like objectively good-looking and there's a bit of an emotional connection😭 #and i couldn't even do it in my mind even though with a girl no problem obviously #and so i was like well i'm gonna keep not thinking about that too hard #and then i downloaded tinder and i had only girls usually because as we established i didn't want to date💪 #ignore the emoji lmao i didn't want to date/sleep with a guy but sometimes i would put guys back on to laugh at them mostly bc it was funny #sorry and i'd see guys i knew from school you know and in july i saw him and i swiped right bc it was fun it was funny i wanted to talk #to him again (we knew each other it wasn't a crush on a stranger) and turns out he had swiped right too so we matched yeah that's how #tinder works anyway i said something lighthearted about how it had been a while and about how we used to sit next to each other in this one #class AND HE NEVER ANSWERED? #so of course i became obsessed with the situation and after a while i planned on sending him another msg a year later to be like haha it's #been a year that's so funny...WHICH I DIDN'T DO when the time came because it's more embarrassing than it is funny #but because i planned on talking to him again after a year i thought about it and about him every single day even though it wasn't even #that important i barely thought about him before the whole trying to picture myself having sex with him thing (...) like i REALLY did not #care about him it was just that thinking i was gonna catch up with him and then just not getting to got to me you know.... #and it's crazy because either way i knew nothing was gonna happen but i was like if i had to sleep with a guy lt would be him! so the whole #situation (even though it wasn't a whole situation) kind of did a number on me. then when i didn't send the message it was like i was #instantly cured it's so funny the whole thing (again. not a whole thing) set me back a whole year #and like i say: brf slt

[celeryb1tch]

innocent!reader x experienced!pervert!abby is rotting my brain tonight!!!

18+!! this is lesbian smut!

you sit at a table in the mess hall, abby’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and her friends all enjoying their dinner. casual conversation is thrown around the table, until manny’s new fling is brought up.

“-and i mean, SOAKED the sheets. i couldn’t believe my eyes,” he recounts proudly.

everyone is laughing along or rolling their eyes, but abby notices your hesitance. she leans down toward you with a concerned look. “something wrong?”

you shake your head lightly, looking up at her. “jus’ don’t get it,” you reply.

abby feels her stomach twist. she had known there wasn’t great sex ed on the WLF base, but she and her friends had grown up around doctors like her dad and she realizes she hadn’t know the full extent of just how ignorant you were. and admittedly, it made her excited.

“she squirted when she came,” she tries to explain gently. but you still look utterly confused, even as she goes on.

“…come? and she didn’t pee?” you seem so utterly lost. abby wonders if it makes her a bad person to expose you to these ideas, but you’re both already adults. still, that knot is twisting inside her deriving a sick pleasure from all of this. you had always looked up to abby, and she wondered how wrong it would be to corrupt that relationship with talk of sex- or even a demonstration?

that night, you’re laying in bed thinking about what abby said earlier. with all the training and violence you’d grown up around, you hardly had time to pay attention to the ache between your legs, or how it would usually occur when abby was around. but as you recount that conversation in your mind, it appears once more. you think of her arm wrapping around you, pressing you into her hard front. how she was still warm and sweaty from the gym, and how her flyaways stuck to the sides of her forehead because of that. something inside of you is saying you should be embarrassed, and you don’t know exactly why- but a louder, much louder, part is telling you to confide in your best friend. she would never judge you, right?

you shuffle down a few hallways in your fluffy socks until you reach one of the bigger accommodations: abby’s room. and with a bit of hesitance in your knock, you step back as the door opens immediately.

abby is clearly groggy, and must have also been getting ready for bed. she’s wearing nothing but boxer shorts and the usual black sports bra she has on during patrols and workouts. her hair is tied in her signature braid, with more wispy pieces that have come out throughout the day. “hey, you. everything okay?”

you nod and push past abby inside as was usual. she joins you on her bed, your bare thighs touching as you both sit. her eyes are on you and you can feel it again- that heat. you pull away slightly, squeezing your legs together as it’s the only thing you know eases the feeling.

abby pretends not to notice, just like she does any other time you blatantly stare at her muscles or blush when she touches your waist. she doesn’t want to scare you off, especially when she thinks she can tell what you’re going to ask about.

“you remember earlier at dinner?” you say, biting your lip slightly as unease turns in your tummy. and abby just nods, still looking right at you. “how manny said he made a girl, uh…”

“squirt?” abby offers. she says it so nonchalantly, like it’s nothing. like she’s never in a million years thought about fucking you until you do. like she wasn’t hoping this would happen every second after dinner.

“yeah, well, i realized there’s probably a lot of sex stuff i don’t know, and since you… y’know…”

poor baby, she thinks. how will she ever work up the courage. and abby thinks of all the times she’s teased you about all the women she’s fucked. called you jealous that you had to split quality time with her one night stands. seen you pout about her missing games night because someone asked her on a date in front of you. surely you were going to ask for her expertise- for her to help you out, to show you?

“since your dad was a doctor.”

oh. that was it? you wanted a little anatomy lesson. then what was all the embarrassment for? were you that ashamed of asking for a little bit of guidance?

abby gives you a soft smile and an assurance that she can help. and your body floods with relief. this is normal. you can tell her what you’re feeling and she won’t act weird. she can help you.

you stand up and strip off your pyjama bottoms and big shirt you had likely stolen from abby so long ago you don’t remember whose it was in the first place. and she just watches, small smile still on her face as she looks you over.

“okay, so right here? boobs, obviously.” she points to your chest, and you roll your eyes.

“i know that, stupid. show me the more advanced stuff.”

“you’ll have to take your underwear off then.” so you do.

abby instinctively reaches for it, stroking her fingers between your puffy, wet lips. her eyes are shining with admiration and her cheeks are hot.

you pull away slightly at the bolt of pleasure that spikes through you at her touch. “is it… supposed to look like this? i think there’s something wrong.”

she shakes her head fervently, eyes never leaving your pussy. “you’re just wet, that’s all. did something turn you on?” and at your confusion at the term- “get you excited? when girls see something attractive, they get wet.”

oh no. you can feel dread flooding your senses as you try to scramble for an explanation. that it just happens sometimes. that’s normal, right?

after a pause, and a look at your face, abby knows exactly what happened. “oh. you got wet from me, huh?”

you want to run away and disappear. you swallow a sob, but strangely, you feel that pulsing sensation again. all of this attention from abby isn’t working in your favour.

but she isn’t grimacing in disgust, or even asking you to leave. in fact, abby has a shit-eating grin on her face as she watches you cower in front of her.

“you’re not… mad?” you ask sheepishly.

abby reaches out to you, pulling you onto her lap. “no, baby, of course not. it’s cute.”

relief washes over you, but before you can really relax you feel abby’s hand once again on your folds.

“so wet for me, baby. how long has this been happening?”

a finger skims against a particularly sensitive spot, and you choke on your words, succumbing to the blissful feeling. “s-so long, abs. like forever.”

“poor girl. so pent up, so needy. and too embarrassed to tell me.”

“yeah…” you whine. you’re clinging to abby like a lifeline, overwhelmed by the building tension. it’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before. so intense, so all-consuming.

abby’s fingers are expertly caressing your pussy, steadily adding more pressure so as not to overstimulate you. “this is the clit,” she murmurs, and you feel that electric spark again as she glides over one specific spot at the top.

“it’s too much,” you cry out, wriggling under her grasp.

“that means you’re cumming soon,” she explains with a chuckle. “feels so good, trust me. just ride it out.”

and you trust abby with every ounce of your being, so you try to relax your muscles as much as possible while you feel that climbing feeling come to a boil. and she was so right. you’re huffing tiny sobs into her chest as you come down, her strokes easing as you’re finally able to catch your breath again.

abby cradles you into her, clean hand running through your hair. you can feel the puddle between your thighs dripping down her own and onto the sheets, and you’re so exhausted.

“that was so hot, baby. did such a good job for me.”

“abs, that was… wow.”

she’s smiling down at you, admiring your sweat- wicked face. “bet you wish you’d asked me sooner, huh?”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #molly’s abby recs! #molly’s!

[xxsabitoxx]

Karaoke | 15k Special

Satoru x Suguru x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, MxMxF threesome, snowballing, blow jobs, pussy eating, dick riding, creampies, accidental voyeurism

A/N: Two out of five threesome specials down! Three more to go! Up next is Shino/Mitsu! ✨Lesbianism✨

Word Count: 3.1k

You slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning into Suguru as you tried to stifle your laughter. Satoru’s singing was god awful, but that wouldn't stop the man from pouring his heart into it while the two of you fell apart on the couch. Every voice crack was vibrating the sound proof walls and sending you into a new fit of giggles. “Ya know…” Suguru spoke softly, just loud enough to be heard over Satoru’s singing. “We could totally fuck with him…” you looked up at him, sitting up immediately as a smirk grew on your face. “Yeah? Walls are soundproof right?” You were already getting up, creeping behind the white haired man as he started singing off key again. 

Suguru watched in amusement, waiting to see what you’d do first before getting up to provide back up. As Satoru’s arms raised in a dramatic way, your arms snaked around his midsection, earning a surprised yelp straight into the microphone. You began to laugh again, hands sneaking under the hem of his baggy white shirt. “What are you doing?” He wheezed, head tilting back to look at the devious grin on your face. “Nothin, keep singing Sa-to-ru~” you practically purred, hands coming up to graze his nipples and earn a sharp inhale, just barely picked up by the mic. Behind you, Suguru clicked his tongue, getting up to make his way over to the two of you as the music continued to play. 

“Now this won’t do…” he plucked the mic from Satoru’s grasp, holding it to his lips as you continued to roam his torso. “Keep singing, Satoru.” Brown eyes met blue in a heated stare, a shaky nod coming from Satoru as he tried to refocus his attention on the music. It was no use though, your hands were playing a very dangerous game, pulling every thought from his mind as he tried to read the lyrics. “Aw, looks like you got lucky.” Suguru chided, grinning as the song came to an end. The three of you were left in silence. “Looks like we’ll be able to hear you loud and clear now, Satoru.” Your  hand slithered upwards, rolling one of his nipples between your thumb and forefinger. A shaky gasp echoed through the speakers.

“Good boy, Satoru.” Suguru’s words came out in a low, rumbling tone, making both you and Satoru shiver at the praise. “Do you want to suck him off, Suguru? Or do you want me to do it?” You cooed, pressing your cheek into Satoru’s back as you continued to pinch and tug his nipples. “How about you suck him off, pretty girl. I wanna see him struggle.” The promise in his tone had you smiling, pulling away from Satoru all together and grabbing his arm to guide him to the leather couch. “Just relax, Satoru. We locked the door and everything, nobody will hear your cute little noises.” you grinned as he sat down, cock already twitching to life as Suguru sat beside him. Suguru slung one arm over his shoulders, holding the mic just below his mouth. 

Both men watched you get on your knees, hands shaking with anticipation as you undid the button and zipper of Satoru’s jeans. “So excited already, all y/n did was pinch your nipples. What a sensitive little slut you are, Satoru.” Suguru drawled, watching you fish Satoru’s cock out of the confines of his briefs. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as Satoru’s cock was exposed, fully hard now and leaking with precum. “You can’t even pretend you don’t like this.” You laughed, straightened on your knees to hover over his cock. You stuck your tongue out, letting saliva drip off it and watching as it landed on the bulbous head of Satoru’s tip. A low groan vibrated his throat, eyes squeezing shut as the noise echoed and amplified on the surround sound speakers. 

Satoru said nothing, practically dizzy with the waves of arousal coursing through him. You wrapped your fingers around him, squeezing him tightly until he nearly doubled forward, moaning loudly into the mic. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together, body feeling warm as you began pumping him. Your eyes flickered to Suguru, noticing the straining bulge in his sweats as he watched your fist glide over Satoru’s length. “Tell me, Satoru, how bad do you want this?” You asked him with a smirk, watching as Suguru made sure to hold the mic right to his lips before speaking. “F-Fuck…” Satoru shivered as his voice was amplified “...so bad. Fuck I want it so bad, suck my cock please…” For some reason, he was starting to really like this. 

Suguru cursed under his breath, smirking a bit at Satoru’s shameless attitude. You couldn’t think of anything to say in return, finding his answer more than fulfilling. You settled down on your knees again, hand holding him upright as you locked eyes with him. Carefully, you liked up the side of his shaft, tracing the veins with your tongue and stopping just before the tip. You repeated that same motion three more times before switching to kisses. Over and over you placed sloppy kisses on his shaft, his tip, his thighs, even reaching up to move his shirt and kiss his abdomen. You didn’t stop until he was panting into the mic, precum dripping over your knuckles as you continued to hold his cock straight.

Finally, with two pairs of eyes glued to you, you wrapped your lips around his angry red tip. You lavished him with your tongue, moaning as the salty and slightly bitter precum coated your tastebuds. “Oh fuck…” Satoru whined, fist tightening as they gripped the side of Suguru’s sweats. Still, the sounds echoed in the loudspeakers. You lapped at his slit, collecting the arousal that oozed there before relaxing your jaw to take more of him. Satoru’s breathing audibly stuttered as you sunk all the way down on his length, not stopping until your nose brushed the coarse white hair at his base. Just as quickly as you took him in, you were pulling back, trying to find a good rhythm to bob your head at. 

Moans began tumbling from his lips, cheeks flushed red as his head fell back. Dutifully, Suguru’s hand followed Satoru’s mouth, keeping the mic within distance to pick up every noise. You felt suffocated by your own clothing, tugging your cardigan off and throwing it to the floor without missing a beat. Only wearing a tank top alleviated some of the heat, but you were too focused on getting Satoru off to bother with any other clothing. “Oh fuck I’m close…” he grounded out, the mic picking up the steady vibrations in his throat as he moaned your name. Your hand reached up, cupping his balls through his briefs and massaging them roughly. A breathy gasp of your name left Satoru’s lips as his head fell back, crying out loudly as he spilled into your mouth. 

You pulled off of him with a slick pop a moment later, sticking your tongue out for both men to see. Satoru’s pearly white release pooled on your tongue, both men seemed completely enthralled by the sight until you placed your hands on Satoru’s thighs, pushing upwards and pressing an open mouth kiss right to his lips. Always willing to indulge, Satoru’s lips parted as his hands found your waist, letting you spill some of his own release on his tongue. Suguru watched, hand coming down to squeeze his cock through his sweats to ease the pressure. As you both pulled away from one another, Satoru grinned. “It’s only right that I get payback, huh?” You weren’t given a chance to think before you were being lifted and pressed into the leather couch. 

Satoru had quickly situated himself on the floor before you, just as you had moments prior. Suguru took the initiative and scooted closer to you, arm wrapping around your shoulders with a smirk. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Sugu.” you chided, forcing a pout as you lifted your hips for Satoru to slide your pants and underwear down. “I am on your side, but I’m on Satoru’s side too.” He smirked, dangling the mic in front of you. “You’ll sound even better than Satoru did over the loudspeakers, pretty girl.” You looked away, face feeling warm as Satoru’s hands spread your thighs apart. “Look how turned on you got just from sucking me off, so cute…” you tried to stifle the whine that left your lips as he dragged two fingers between your lips, coating them in your shiny arousal. “Oh…” you squirmed as his fingers bumped your clit.

Your own voice echoed back at you, making your eyes squeeze shut as you tried to hide your face in Suguru’s shoulder. “Ah Ah, you’re not hiding from us.” Suguru’s voice echoed on the mic as well, making your body feel hot all over as you questioned if the room was truly sound proof. You swallowed your pride, turning to watch Satoru as he continued to play with your pussy. “Do you want me to finger fuck you? Or do you want my mouth? You need to tell me, sweetheart.” Satoru practically purred, as if he wasn’t the one at your mercy moments prior. “Y-your tongue, Sato… I want your tongue.” You whined into the mic, earning a low groan from Suguru as Satoru’s tongue slid out to wet his plump lips. “As you wish, sweetheart.” His head dipped lower, tufts of white hair tickling your inner thighs as he placed kisses along your folds.

Your fingers tightened on Suguru’s thigh, unknowingly doing what Satoru had done to him. That little motion made Suguru smirk, grabbing your wrist with his free hand and placing it over the outline of his cock straining below his sweats. You whined, legs spreading a little further as Satoru’s tongue slipped between, lapping at your clit and sending sparks of electricity up the base of your spine. You stared at him, lips parted as the mic picked up every ragged breath you took, watching his nose slide against the front of your public bone, inhaling deeply. “Jesus fuck, Satoru.”  you gasped into the mic, unable to contain your shyness as he shamelessly inhaled you. 

“He likes putting on a show for you.” Suguru murmured, slightly strained as you squeezed the outline of his cock roughly. Satoru only smiled, tongue sliding down lower to prod at your entrance. This time it was his nose bumping your clit, piercing blue eyes boring into yours as he watched you steadily lose your composure. You could feel it, drool and arousal steady slipping down to pool on the cheap red leather of the couch, puddling against your ass. “Fuck…” you whined again, the loudspeakers throwing it right back at you. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” Suguru murmured, trying to ignore the wet mark starting to grow on his gray sweats. “Y-yeah… shit S-Satoru… gonna cum…” You moaned, face on fire as your hips jerked upwards. You could feel it building steadily, if he continued as he was now, you’d be coming all over him in seconds. 

“Don’t stop, Satoru. She was so kind as to let you cum.” Suguru teased, but there was a level of command to it, one Satoru wouldn’t dare disobey as you moaned his name. Your grip tightened significantly, earning a low moan from Suguru as your other hand found its home in Satoru’s hair. Both men were making noises along with you, loud enough to be picked up on the mic and echo in the tiny karaoke room. Your walls clenched around nothing, pushing you over the edge as you cried out into the mic, coming on Satoru’s tongue with a wave of sweet arousal. He moaned against you, lapping greedily at every drop of honey you offered him. It took you a moment to realize your ears had begun ringing, a tired laugh tugging from your chest as it subsided. “Well…” you smiled down at Satoru, watching him pull away from your cunt with one last kiss before smirking up at you with shiny lips. “Two down, one to go.” 

You both turned to look at Suguru, the devious grins on your face making him stiffen as you pulled the mic out of his hands. “Didn’t think you were getting out of this without the same sort of embarrassment, did you, Suguru?” Satoru gloated softly, voice condescending as you handed him the mic. Suguru said nothing, cheeks turning a shade of pink as you moved to straddle him with shaky legs. “It’s your turn to make pretty noises for us, Su-gu-ru~” You drawled out his name just as you had with Satoru, smiling as his eyes looked everywhere but you for a moment. Always one to act big and tough, like he was always in control. But Suguru crumbled like a drying sand castle the moment you and Satoru teamed up on him. 

He couldn’t help it, you were both his biggest weakness.

You raised your hips, tugging down his sweats and underwear quickly and letting his cock spring free. “Damn.” you commented softly as Satoru took a seat beside Suguru on the couch, mimicking what he had done by slinging an arm over his broad shoulders. “Fuck, that probably hurts, huh?” Satoru grinned, holding the mic by Suguru’s lips as the two of you observed his cock. It stood proudly, tip flushed an angry read as precum covered the entirety of it. You had noticed the small stain on his pants before tugging them down, making you feel all the more smug as you wrapped your hand around him. Suguru’s huff of relief sounded over the speakers, making his eyes shut momentarily before reopening them to watch you pump him a few times. “Take him all at once, sweetheart, you’re wet enough.” Satoru encouraged you with a wicked grin. 

“Alright, if you insist.” You smiled back, hearing Suguru’s breathing stop for a moment as you angled him at your entrance. “Don’t hold back.” Was all you said to him before dropping your hips down on him. Both of you gasped, Suguru was amplified over the speakers, nearly drowning you out. Your walls spasmed around him, velvety heat suctioning to every inch of him as he stretched you open. “Oh fuck.” he gasped out, head falling back as his hands found your hips to keep you still. “Your pussy never gets old.” He groaned, no longer embarrassed by the fact that everything was being blasted on loudspeakers. “Suguru!” You squealed a bit, earning a laugh from Satoru as his eyes flickered between the two of you. “It’s the truth, pretty girl.” He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he slowly lifted his head back up to look at you. 

“Ride me, please. Fuck I need you to move so bad, pretty girl.”  his pupils were blown wide, flickering between your face and where your cunt was swallowing his cock whole. “Say it again.” you murmured, needing to hear his breathy voice through the loudspeakers again. “Ride me, please. Pretty girl, I need you to ride me.” You gasped, lifting your hips half way before dropping them down again, shivering at the feeling of his girth spreading you open over and over. Suguru’s head fell back against the couch, jaw slack as he watched himself disappear and reappear inside of you over and over. It took a minute but soon enough there was a slick squelch every time your hips dropped back down, arousal collecting at the base of his cock and disappearing into the thick dark hair along his pubic bone. 

Satoru watched with flush cheeks, getting an idea as the squelching only got louder. He moved the mic from Suguru’s lips, instead reaching down to hover it where you and Suguru’s bodies became one. Now, you could really hear everything, your head falling forward in embarrassment as you continued to drive your hips down on Suguru. It seemed to have the opposite effect on the two men, Suguru’s hands grabbing your waist hard to pull and push you down on him at an even quicker pace. “Fuck… so good, you’re so good.” You couldn’t contain your noises as Suguru praised you endlessly, Satoru’s eyes watching you intently as you started to fall apart. “Fuck…” You choked out again, hand slipping down your front to toy with your clit until Satoru’s hand swatted yours away. “Let me…” he breathed out, two fingers slipping down to rub circles. 

Your walls clenched around Suguru’s length, gripping him like a vice as your hips stuttered. “Gonna cum… gonna cum…” Suguru grounded out, head falling forward to focus on Satoru’s fingers between your legs. “Cum with me, please? Wanna feel you cum with me.” Suguru panted, eyes flickering to Satoru. “Make her cum, please.” Satoru huffed out a laugh, fingers rubbing a little quicker as your whines turned to quiet pants. “Come on…” Suguru groaned, cock twitching violently as dull nails dug into your waist. “O-oh.. fuck fuck fuck…” You choked, walls sputtering around Suguru’s length as you came hard. Suguru followed after you within a second, hot release spurting into you. Your hips dropped down all the way, earning a sharp inhale from Suguru as his tip pressed into your cervix. 

“Well, that was fun.” Satoru chimed, watching the two of you come down from your highs as he went to put the karaoke mic back on the stand. You collapsed into Suguru’s chest, feeling him soften inside of you as he panted. “Oh… oh no.” Satoru froze, eyes locked on the corner of the room. “Oh no?” you questioned, Suguru’s arms wrapping around your midsection to keep you in place. “Yeah, oh no… we gotta leave.” he sounded a little panicked but there was laughter in his tone as well. “And why is that?” Suguru groaned, head lifting to see what Satoru could possibly be looking at. “There is uh… well… there’s a security camera in the corner… It's been recording this whole time.” Now, you were both stiffening, sitting up right to turn and look.

“You’re fucking kidding.” you yelped, cheeks flooding with warmth as you turned to look at Suguru. “Well, they probably got a good show…” he swallowed, cheeks turning red as he let you get off of him slowly. “We can never come back here.” Satoru laughed, grabbing some napkins off the table to help clean the mess slowly leaking down your thighs. “I don’t think they’ll even let us back here if we wanted to.” You watched Suguru pull his pants on, sticky arousal still covering him. “We should ask them for a copy of the recording.” Satoru chimed, watching both of you groan as you quickly made yourselves look presentable. “Satoru, shut up.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk scenarios #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #geto smut #geto suguru smut #suguru smut #gojo x geto x reader #gojo x geto x reader smut #satoru x suguru #jjk geto #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #jjk suguru

[mizusnose]

ahem so I just read your college fuckboy mizu headcanons (which I loved) and was wondering if I could request a lil something about fuckboy mizu genuinely liking the reader so she makes changes to convince the reader she's serious. Reader would probs be SUPER skeptical bc casual relationships isn't their thing but it'd be so cute. Obvs you can just ignore this if you don't want to do it my mind has just been mizu brainrot lately

so i’ve been letting this one marinate for a bit BUT: reader who gets together with Taigen to spite Mizu who won’t get serious for reader. Cue the jealousy, club shenanigans, and poet mizu (!!)

boyfriend by dove cameron for max brainrot

———

Taigen was a fine boyfriend. All things considered. He was better than most of the guys you’d been with before, and he had a motorcycle that he’d let you take pics with and post them on your feed.

But, he wasn’t Mizu.

This point had been made several times. Mostly on Taigen’s end. His constant whining of I see the way you look at her, god I bet you thought I was a woman huh, better yet—you wished I was her huh!

He wasn’t wrong, necessarily. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten bored and decided to go to Taigen’s fencing practice. It wasn’t like you’d intended on falling head over heels for the hot butch lesbian who had a mean smirk and a sweaty jaw when she whooped Taigen’s ass.

You still remembered the way she had her neck bared, her hair falling over her shoulders, the beat of her heart nestled in between her collarbones, the dark green of her veins under her skin.

So, yeah, maybe you did have a thing for Mizu, who may or may not be your boyfriend’s biggest rival.

Heavy quotations on the rival part since Mizu didn’t give a shit that Taigen hated her—in fact, she didn’t care that the majority of the lesbians, bisexual, and bi-curious girls on campus hated her guts.

But that was what made her interesting.

You’d thought about it often: her, telling you to leave as soon as you’d come on her tongue or strap or fingers, (whatever was fine, you weren’t picky.) and you’d feel that tug in your tummy and your jaw would relax and fall open and—

“hah, did you come?”

And then you’d be back where you started: dating Taigen and fucking him and not being able to enjoy it or come or anything.

The thing was this: You’d only ever been in long-term relationships. Never dabbled in casual one night stands that Mizu was rumored to stick by. Even if you did want her, her time was limited. And you didn’t exactly love sharing.

So, when Taigen complained about having to go out this weekend to “bond or some teammate trust building shit, pfft, as if we aren’t trying to kill each other every practice. Not to mention Mizu will be there,” You convinced him to go, and for you to tag along. As moral support of course.

Now as much as Taigen loved telling you how much he hated Mizu, he liked coming to the thought of her much more. You’d done it quite often, bring Mizu up in sex, the way she’d fence and made him look like a fucking loser. How good she’d look kissing you, having you, taking you away from him. You’d both come then, not just him.

So you supposed it wasn’t that weird to be crushing over Mizu. Especially when the weekend came and the alcohol was sweet and fizzy and the wine dark and bitter, and the club lights shimmering on Mizu’s skin, her hair, her hands as she came up behind you.

“Hey.” She said. Simple, easy, confident. Her hands brushed your exposed back, the bend of your hip, the jut of your ribs.

“Hi.” You said. Sultry, warm, quiet so she’d have to twist closer to hear you when you gasped as she held your waist, tighter this time. A little mean, “I have a boyfriend.”

And she’d chuckle, and pull away and quirk her dark eyebrow up, “Really? Him?” A barely there glance at Taigen who was with the other fencing team members taking body shots off one another, “I could be a better boyfriend than him, you know.”

She spun you around, the steady heat of her palm always on you, “You know me.” It wasn’t a question. You saw the way Mizu’s eyes dragged across your body on her way over, her tongue on her lips as she stared. She knew you were Taigen’s girlfriend.

“Been watching.” She brought you closer, shifted her hands and then you were close. Closer than you’d ever been to her before.

She smelled heady and like pinewood. The plane of her chest was defined, sturdy, and you wondered if she had small breasts, if they were sensitive.

“Can’t believe I almost went home when you’re here—all alone.” She smirked, the same damned smirk you’d replay in your mind as you masturbated and thought of her, “Think I might just steal you from him, hm?”

Her hands slipped up your back, to the bottom of your nape, a demanding grip: there one second, gone the next. She watched your face, your lips, your neck.

“Does this usually work on other girls?”

You pushed away then, your legs wobbly and your underwear damp. You wanted, but you knew exactly what Mizu thought of you: an easy thing, something of Taigen’s. Good for a night, forgotten the next.

So you straightened your clothes, and met Mizu’s confused gaze, “I have a boyfriend.”

Mizu’s mouth twitched. Barely. But you’d caught it as you turned, and headed to the bartop. Even if Mizu was who you’d wanted, being a one-night stand wasn’t what you wanted.

So, you walked back over to Taigen, beers in hand, and watched Mizu as you kissed him wide and dirty. Her glare a steely weight in your belly, and on your beating cunt.

You’d make Mizu yours, one way or another.

——-

Let’s make this a 2 parter. Poet mizu will have to wait. Thanks for the ask :)

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #headcanons #mizu x fem!reader #fanfiction #ask

[hawkins-losers]

She wears short skirts, I wear tee shirts | Robin Buckley x Reader

Summary: Robin has a crush on a cheerleader 

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Reader

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: I wrote this in Robin’s pov without realizing...oops. Also, this has been in my drafts since the day I binged season 4 part 1. Sorry it took so long to post/finish

-

Robin Buckley, the girl who liked to be out of the box, had fallen for a high school cliché with lip gloss, a bouncy ponytail and a mini skirt. A fucking cheerleader.

When she told Steve about her little crush on you, he thought it was a joke and laughed…which earned him a smack on the shoulder. Robin was serious. She really did have a crush on you, and it was the worst thing that could happen to her. Actually, getting outed would take the cherry, but her crush on you was next in line.

You weren't a bad person - you were very sweet actually -, but to Robin's eyes, there was no possibility that you could reciprocate her feelings and that’s why it was so terrible. You were at the top of the pyramid, and she was playing trumpet in the school’s band.

While driving to school on Friday morning, Steve was ranting about girls, like always, and Robin was trying to apply mascara without stabbing herself in the eye. A blind person can play the trumpet, but it’s better with two functioning eyes.

‘’Robin! Are you listening?’’ Steve asked, taking his eyes off the road.

‘’Yes. Yes, I am. I-’’

It was false. She was only half listening, concentrated on coating her bottom lashes with mascara.

‘’What did I say?’’

‘’You said something about sex with…Linda.’’

‘’No!’’ Once again, Steve took his eyes off the road. ‘’I’m talking about Heidi.’’

Heidi or Linda, Robin could never remember who was who other than one of them was a blonde and the other a brunette. Which was which? That she did not know the answer.

‘’Cut me some slack, please. Your love life is a labyrinth complexity and it’s seven in the morning and I have to do this stupid pep rally and I woke up looking like a total corpse.’’

‘’You’re worried about a basketball pep rally?’’ Steve raised an eyebrow. ‘’You expect me to believe that?’’

‘’Yeah.’’

Steve scoffed. He wasn’t always the brightest crayon of the box and sometimes made questionable decisions, but he wasn’t that stupid. The basketball pep rally was not why Robin was so stressed and panicked over. It was something else - someone else.

‘’No. We both know what this is about, okay? I’m not buying that bullshit. This is about Y/N.’’

A little smirk curled at the corner of Steve’s lips, seeing the defense mode kick on Robin’s face at the mention of you. Bullseye.

‘’Absolutely not.’’

‘’Yes it is, and I think that you should stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her. You just gotta be yourself.’’

Robin reached into her bag for her lip balm and applied some with her finger. ‘’Are you really quoting my own advices?’’

‘’They worked. Maybe you should listen to yourself more. Look at me, I listened to you and now, boom, I’m back in business.’’

‘’It’s not the same thing,’’ Robin argued.

In a way, it was the same, but in another, it was very different.

She continued. ‘’You ask a girl and she says no, no big deal. Nothing happens. Maybe your ego is a little bruised but I ask out the wrong girl, bam, I'm a town pariah.’’

Although Steve was not in Robin’s shoes sexuality wise, he understood her point of view. Being gay - lesbian, in Robin’s case - was not persued well by the majority of people. It was seen as disgusting and wrong.

‘’Yeah, I buy that, except Y/N is definitely not the wrong girl.’’

‘’She’s a cheerleader. She couldn’t be straighter.’’

‘’She comes to Family Video every Saturday - even when it rains - and only goes to you to check her out. Oh, and remember two weeks ago when I switched shifts with you so I could go on a date with Heidi? Y/N came to rent a movie and asked if you were around while I checked her out. You should’ve seen the disappointment on her face when I told her you weren’t working. She likes you.’’

‘’You’re full of shit.’’

*

In the school’s gymnasium, the band's music echoed while the cheerleading team did their choreography, twirling, spinning, jumping and dancing with their pom-poms. 

Standing in line with the band in the stands, Robin tried balancing her attention between playing her trumpet and watching from afar the bright smile on your face and the Tigers green eye shadow on your eyes. 

The band stopped as the choreography came to an end, and everyone clapped and cheered. 

Then, the cheerleaders vacated the spot and sat by the stands as the headmaster called in the Tigers. Another round of cheers and clapping echoed as the paper was ripped and in came the team, with Jason at the front.

*

During fourth period, Robin’s eyes wandered to you while Mr. Scotts talked about protons and electrons. She should probably be paying attention to the lesson, all this information will likely be asked in the next test, but you were sitting two rows before her and your glossy lips and smooth-soft looking skin were much more interesting. Sorry, Mr. Scotts.

A quiet sigh left Robin's lips. She wished she wasn’t such a hopeless disaster and had the courage to go up to you and talk to you. So far, your exchanges have been limited to ‘did you find everything you wanted?’ and ‘that will be 3.50$’.

It was pathetic.

The bell rang, forcing Robin to break her staring.

Mr. Scotts cut the lesson and everyone gathered their things and left.

After shoving everything in her backpack, Robin was about to leave the classroom when she spotted a white knit cardigan with Tigers green edges on the back-rest of a chair. Your chair. She took the cardigan, a little smile curling at the corner of her lips as she read your embroidered name on the right side, and went after you in the hallway. This was the perfect excuse to talk to you.

She could’ve called your name and you would’ve turned around. It would’ve been easy and not weird, but Robin wasn’t thinking and ended up following you to the bathroom.

‘’Y/N!’’ she called, walking in the girls’ bathroom.

You turned around, pulling your eyebrows together. ‘’Robin? Where you...following me?’’

‘’Yes! No!‘’ she quickly corrected, realizing how it must've sounded. ‘’I mean, yes, but not in a creepy way. Eh...you left your cardigan in class and I saw it on your chair so I took it and followed you to give it back.’’

Your eyes trailed down to the cardigan in Robin’s hand.

You thanked her with a kind smile. ‘’That’s very nice of you. Most people would’ve just left it there.’’

‘’Well, I'm not most people, and I didn't want you to get cold.‘’

Robin wanted to sap herself for saying something so dumb.

You took the cardigan from her, your fingers brushing for a few seconds during the exchange, sending butterflies to Robin's stomach. ‘’Thanks.’’

*

The next day at Family Video, Steve had to listen to Robin’s rant about her short exchange with you while they stocked the shelves with the returned tapes. Well, Steve was stocking the shelves. Robin had been following him around with the same two movies in her hand for the past ten minutes, completely absorbed in her story.

‘’-forgot her cardigan and our fingers touched and-’’

The bell above the door ding-ed and Robin paused her story. She turned her head at the new customer and her throat went dry, seeing you walking in in a mini skirt and a blouse with a funky print.

‘’Hi! Welcome to Family Videos,’’ Steve greeted, his voice echoing through the store and pulling Robin from her trance. ‘’You looking for a movie in particular?’’

He wasn’t always this nice with every customer - unless he was flirting -, but he was trying to help his friend get the girl she was crushing on.

‘’Eh, no. Not really,’’ you replied, brushing him off and walking away to the comedy aisle.

Steve turned his head back to Robin. ''Go talk to her,'' he mouthed over the shelf, his back turned to you.

She shook her head, panic rushing to her eyes. ‘’I can’t.’’

One thing about Robin was that she had no filter and talked a lot when under stress or was nervous. Most people found it pretty annoying and she didn’t want to annoy you by turning into an unstoppable tornado of word vomit.

‘’Just go ask her if she needs any help finding a movie.’’

‘’Why? She already said she didn’t know what she was looking for.’’

‘’Because I asked her. She didn’t want my help,’’ Steve explained.

His theory was ridiculous and Robin wanted to prove to him that he was wrong so she walked up to you. ‘’Do you need any help finding a movie?’’

Your eyes flickered to Robin’s and, much to her surprise, you accepted her help. ‘’Do you have a copy of Ferris Bueller's day off?’’ you asked. ‘’I believe it was released this week, but I can’t seem to find it.’’

Without needing to check in the computer, Robin knew that there was one copy left in the store. And she knew exactly where it was.

‘’We do. It’s at the register though. I was saving it for myself, but I’ll let you have it just because it’s you.’’

She wanted you to see her gesture as her being nice to you - and perhaps a little flirty -, because it really was that. You didn’t need to know that it was actually store policy to give the customers the movies you saved if they asked for them.

‘’Oh, thank you, but you don’t have to do that. I can pick another movie-’’

‘’It’s fine.’’ Robin tried not to look too disappointed. ‘’I’ll watch it another day.’’

You and Robin went to the front of the store to retrieve the movie and check you out. ‘’I feel bad for taking your movie. Do you…would you want to watch it with me?’’

‘’With you? As in, at your house?’’ Robin asked, wanting to make sure she got your offer right.

You nodded, a glint in your eyes. ‘’Yeah. I don't have anyone else to watch it with. My friends are more of the Footloose and Pretty in Pink type.’’

Just as Robin was about to scan the movie into the computer, there was a loud bang outside, which spooked you both. Thunder. Then, it began pouring heavily.

‘‘What the hell? It was sunny five minutes ago,’‘ you said.

‘‘It’s Hawkins. Unexpected downpours happen all the time,’’ Robin explained, the town in itself being good enough of an explanation.

They’re usually followed by not so pleasing supernatural surprises, but she didn’t need to add that.

Robin scanned the VHS and you paid your weekly 3.50$. Then, she added, ‘‘You can stay here, you know. Until the rain calms down. You’re gonna get soaked within five seconds if you go out in that rain.’‘

Once again, Robin was just being nice by offering you shelter, but she also didn’t want you to go yet.

‘’What if the rain doesn't stop? Sometimes, it goes on for hours.’’ Your eyes flickered to Robin’s blue ones and held her gaze.

Another clap of thunder echoed, making the lights flicker.

‘‘Looks like we might lose power,’‘ Steve said, louder than necessary. ‘‘I’m gonna go in the backroom and fetch some flashlights, in case the power go out.’‘

‘‘Don’t forget to check if there’s batteries in them!’‘ Robin called out after him.

She knew it was an excuse to give you some alone time with her crush and she was grateful for the help.

Shortly after Steve disappeared, the power went out, plunging the store in the dark. Across the street, you could see that there was power so this must be Steve's doing. Robin was praying you wouldn't notice.

‘’I hate when the power goes out,’’ you said, beginning to feel anxious in the dark.

‘’You can hold my hand if you want, I won’t tell,’’ Robin boldly blurted, the absence of light giving her a boost of confidence. She reached across the counter and you took her hand, tangling your fingers together as butterflies bubbled in Robin’s stomach because she was holding your hand.

A loud clap of thunder hit and you squeezed Robin’s hand. ‘’Sorry. I got a little spooked,’’ you explained with a nervous giggle.

‘’It’s okay.’’

Robin shifted on his feet, trying to fill the silence. What do you do when you’re in the dark with your crush? You ramble facts about thunderstorms.

‘‘Did you know that for every five seconds between the lightning flash and the clap of thunder, the thunderstorm that produced the lightning is one mile away? If the time is decreasing, the storm is moving toward you. If it is increasing, the storm is moving farther away.’’

You shook your head. ‘‘I did not know that.’‘

‘‘My father taught me this when I was little. I used to be scared of thunder so he made it a game for me. We’d sit on the porch and count the seconds together.’‘

‘’That’s sweet. My father taught me how to drive. I dented the car when backing in our driveway and ruined my mother’s flowers. He never let me sit in the driver seat again. I think it's best for everyone's safety.’’

Robin laughed at your anecdote. ‘’Don’t worry. I can’t drive either. I haven’t tried, but it took me six months longer to learn to walk as a baby and I still can't run right, so I’d rather not find out how I drive.’’

Suddenly, the power returned, lighting the store with its bright neon lights. You let go of Robin's hand, making the latter pout at the loss.

‘‘See you later, Robin.’‘ You picked the VHS from the counter and, just before pushing the door open, you paused. ‘‘We still have a movie to watch, remember?’‘

-

​Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3  @cursedandromedablack  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1   @wh0reforbucknasty   @eddiemunson-slut   @slvdsjjk  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @grace-loux  @iamharrystyleslover  @matildavol6  @Original_babababoo  @eddiemunsonbby  @notbeforelong  @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog  @tatespillows  @alwayslexii  @lilygreennn   @milkiane  @imahomeslice  @bunnygrl16 @cwritesforfun @marauders3rawh0re  @your-mom21 @parkersmyth @voguesir @milkiane @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @lilygreennn @alexxavicry @charlie-chick  @wandamaximoffs-deadchild  @horrorstreet  @rmeddar123  @Pastel-abyss-x @lil-tracys  @lanalanabanana 

Robin Buckley taglist: @uhidklol-26 @prettyplant0   @ran-rap   @eddiemvunsongf    @batorchids222  @scarlet-kazuha  @saphmoth  @uhidklol-26  @you-makeme-crazier-blog  @spongebob-in-the-upsidedown  @swiftbyul  @xenon54xe  @tribute-101  @starstruckspring  @whyamihere2673  @moonlight-imagines  @p40l44 @moonlight-imagines   @ofherscarlettwitchways  @pastelbabygirl19 @eddiemunsonbby  @bitterbyfletcher @i-could-be-lonely-with-you @chrisxevans-seb @robinbuckleyluvr @lol-lol—idk @satinselenite  @missmaxmayfield  @soph69420world  

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x oc #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things s4

[melanieph321]

Dominik Szoboszlai x Black Reader - First Sight Part 4/8

The Ex

This story is about the night reader met her boyfriend Dominik and the series of crazy events that led up to the beginning of their love story.

Enjoy!

"Say something, please?"

You were still locked in the bathroom, faces inches apart, with Dominik pressing your back against the wall."

"Dominik?"

He didn't say anything for a few moments, just stared at you in stunned silence. You felt a lump form in your throat, waiting for his reaction. You once dread having to explain your sexuality to people, but your parents taught you at an early age about the importance of being open and honest about what you feel and for who, and since you liked Dominik, alot, he desrved to know.

"So erm...." He cleared his throat, making an effort to speak up. However the words that came out of his mouth made you want to slap him. "So you're one of them, huh?"

"A lesbian?" You frowned.

"Yeah?"

You sighed, "Yes. I guess I am, one of them. "

"Right."

"Actually I'm bi."

"Of course you are." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Look, Y/N, maybe it was just me, but I really thought that you and I...you know, had something?"

"I thought so too." You mumbled, your eyes darting at the floor. But I've never..."

"Been with a man before?"

You nodded.

"....yeah I got that part." Dominik stopped pressing you against the wall, the moment between you having passed. He still lingered in the bathroom, but the newfound distance between you might as well be kilometers apart.

"Does this mean that you're still a virgin?"

It was another dumb question for him to ask, but you were just glad that he choose to be informed rather than letting his own prejudice make up his mind for him.

"Technically, maybe? However the things I've done with women....I think it would be very misleading to classify me as a virgin."

"Oh."

Dominik's cheeks grew red.

"Yeah." You smiled.

The two of you eventually left the bathroom, returning to a party you were no longer in the mood to join, that is, until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Cassie?"

"I knew I recognized that sexy ass walk of yours."

You were stunned and a little bit embarrassed. Cassie was your latest hook up, latest meaning you were on and off during your freshman year at university. At some point the two of you even lived together. However you decided to break things off with her due to your dropping grades, eventually moving in with Tara who was also studying to become a nurse. You and Cassie however, never failed to keep in touch, she was simply the coolest person that you knew, with her many piercings and unapologetic 'can do' attitude. Not to mention her banging body.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" She said, peering over your shoulder towards Dominik.

"Oh, yes. Um...Cassie this is Dominik, Dominik this is Cassie my...."

"Booty call" She grinned and stretched out a hand for Dominik to shake. He did so reluctantly. "She hates it when I tell people that."

You really did, especially after seeing the crumbling expression on Dominik's face.

"Where have you been Chiquita? I've been begging you to go out with me forever, but you're always so busy studying. I guess only a special person can drag you along to a party like this?"

Heat rose to your face. Dominik looked uncomfortable too, especially since the two of you almost had sex in the bathroom minutes ago.

"We're actually out for a beer run." You explained.

"Really? Who's dorm are you getting wasted in and why was I not invited?"

"Um, it's actually Tara's friend..."

"Tara?" Cassie smiled, a mocking smile. "Let me guess, her 'friend' is a guy? Asian perhaps?"

"Jupp." You chuckled. Cassie had gotten to known Tara well through you, however the two had a slight beef after Cassie called Tara out for having a fetish for Asien men. Tara obviously denied this, either way, their relationship was strained.

"Anyway, if you guys are sticking around for a bit, how about some shots?"

"Actually we we're...."

"Szobo!"

Like a psychic, Dominik's friend appeared with a tray of shots. "Take two." He encouraged.

"I'm good Ibou, thanks man."

"Come on Szobo, I thought you came to party, no?"

Dominik looked to you, his expression hard to read. Perhaps he wanted to leave, just like you?

"I'm down for a shot." Cassie grabbed two glasses from the tray, handing one over to you before you could protest. And just like that the night became a blur again.

Dominik withdrew to the living room, talking vividly with his friend as they sat on the couch. Or it was more Dominik's friend who did the talking, since Dominik's eyes were set on the coffe table before him, occasionally lifting his gaze to look at you from across the room. You stood with Cassie, catching up on what's been going on in your lives, however it was hard to be interested in anything she said when your heart was beating so profoundly for somone else.

"Dominik?"

"Yes?"

You approched him. It was well passed midnight, and it was safe to say that your beer run had not been a success. However, "....I don't want this night between us to end."

"Me neither." He admitted.

You smiled. "Cassie doesn't live far from here, please come with us."

Dominik looked to Cassie who was still enjoying herself on the dance floor, vibing to the music.

"She's really not that bad, I swear."

He looked to you, eyebrows furrowed. "I never said she was?"

"No, but I see the way you look at her, as if...."

"As if she's gotten to know you better than I have? It's called jealousy Y/N, look it up."

"W...what?"

He was grinning, but you were unsure weather he was serious or not.

"Y...You're jealous, of Cassie?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Apparently she can offer you more than I can do."

"Which is?"

"Well for starters, I bet she gives better head than me, since two women can't...."

"You're such a dickhead." You sighed. Dominik laughed as you hit him in the arm. "A real fucking dickhead."

"Bet you love it though."

"Trust me, I don't."

That was a lie, your heart was beating faster than normal, and the spark that you thought had faded when you told Dominik about your sexuality, returned.

"Are you guys ready to go?" Cassie asked, finally done for the night.

You looked to Dominik and he nodded. As you said goodbye to his friend, leaving his house, Dominik draped an arm over shoulder, pulling you close to whisper in your ear. "Just know that I'm willing to step up my game for you."

"What game?" You chuckled, his words tickling your ear.

The question answered itself as Dominik look at you, tounge swiping slowly across his bottom lip, indicating that tonight would be one you'd have a hard time forgetting.

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #dominik x reader #dominik szoboszlai imagine #dominik szoboszlai x black reader #dominik szoboszlai x reader #dominik szoboszlai #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold

[gatheringbones]

[“The way I told my mom was less than ideal. I was home on a school break and talking to Jessie for about an hour on the telephone. My mom kept knocking on my bedroom door, telling me to get off the phone. I was totally frustrated and came storming into the living room. She said something snide like, “I don’t know who this Jessie is and why you have to be on the phone with her for so long.” “She’s my girlfriend! And I’m bisexual!” I shouted angrily. I don’t actually remember what she said after that.

Telling my gay father was a lot less dramatic. He just said some thing like, “That’s great—whatever makes you happy.” Interestingly, he wasn’t jumping for joy over me joining the team or anything.

Jessie and I didn’t last very long; we really were better off as friends. I don’t think people, including me, realized how serious I was—this wasn’t an experiment or whimsy—until I met Jen.

Jen was the Big Dyke On Campus. She was a senior, super intelligent, opinionated, really out. Everyone knew who she was because she was a big-time activist, very outspoken about things like sex, SM, and porn. She also went to class dressed in men’s shirts and ties. This was no friendly, sporty lesbian that everyone found charming. She was a butch dyke, brazen in her gender and style, and I was drawn to her. She was frantically finishing her honors thesis when we first met, and so our early encounters were at the library. I remember kissing her for the first time on the library steps and feeling such intense desire that I thought I would explode and shatter into tiny bits of flesh at her feet. She was a brilliant flirt, so self-assured, so deliberate and generous with her words, so powerful at casting a spell on me. Consumed by her, I wanted to surrender, to give her everything. She was the smartest, fiercest lesbian I knew. And then she was my girlfriend.

Jen used to read On Our Backs and Susie Bright’s Lesbian Sex World to me at bedtime every night. (She was even in charge of bringing Susie Bright to speak on campus that spring.) We were so connected, so engaged in the relationship. Every single day, there was something new to learn, share, discover. I did so many things for the first time with Jen. Jen was the first girl I ever lived with. I experienced the tremors of my first earthquake in bed with Jen and her yellow lab. I had my first taste of what now is my favorite all-time food at the hands of Jen: sushi. Jen was the first woman to fuck me with a dildo. Jen was the first woman to tie me up. The first woman to spank me. To fuck my ass. She topped me for the first time, I bottomed to her for the first time, and we switched. We watched fag porn together. She was the first girl I ever fucked with a strap-on. She was the first girl I ever stripped for. Jen was the first girl I ever bought a tie for. Jen brought me to buy my first pair of Doc Martens. She was so articulate about her desires and her politics, so sex positive, that I felt like I could tell her anything. She was my lover, my mentor, my dyke teacher, and so much of who I am today came from her.

Before her, I felt closeted not only about my desire for women, but my desire to explore the myriad possibilities of sex. Coming out finally gave me the freedom to do so. I was never tortured or miserable with all the boys I’d been with; in fact, physically, they were pretty satisfying. I couldn’t always connect with them on an intellectual or emotional level, so I always felt like something was missing. While I was sexually precocious with men, I never tried new things, experimented, voiced fantasies—being a dyke totally coincided with my overall sexual liberation, and the two awakenings became intrinsically linked.”]

tristan taormino, from this girl is different, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

#tristan taormino #bi literature #currently reading #terra preta

[odiesdayoff]

The Winner Is...

pair: Robert Fischer x fem!reader

summary: Robert Fischer's stuck judging this year's Miss America Pageant. That doesn't mean he can't use his position to his advantage.

warnings: extremely dubious consent!! (heed the warnings!); mean/condescending Robert Fischer; anal; blowjobs; deepthroating; unprotected sex; a bit of misogyny; power imbalance

made reader from Georgia because I've been watching a lot of Kim of Queens. I've never written a lot of this before so I hope you can enjoy <3 this is also on Ao3 so yea... feedback always appreciated!

but also your consumption is your fault so if you don't like the content well then you should not have skipped/ignored the warnings

ALSO happy valentine's day from me :)

“In your opinion, what is a way that young women can lead successful lives in traditionally male-dominated professions?” Miss America from 2003 spoke clearly into the microphone. She wore her winning sash across her chest and a sparkling dress. 

On her left, a former professional basketball player crossed her arms and sat back. She won the finals for her team two years in a row and now she was stuck judging brainless, but beautiful women being asked sexist questions in the veil of feminism and the uplifting of women. It didn’t matter, though. She was getting paid.

On the right of Miss America 2003, Robert Fischer leaned on the judge’s table with his hands folded. Ever since he fumbled the business deal with Eclipse Solutions, Maurice thought that the best form of punishment was to take his spot as a judge in this competition. Initially, Robert thought that it wasn’t much of a punishment, but after a long week of nonstop noise and hearing these women yap about how they were going to change the world, he understood why his father made him. 

The hard-on he was sporting towards the beginning of the competition was long gone. He couldn’t bear to look at any of them anymore. Even during the swimsuit portion, for God’s sake.

Your smile never fell. The swimsuit you chose emphasized your breasts and slimmed your waist. Saying that you chose it was an exaggeration, your coach said that if you could catch the eyes of Fischer and Johnson, who your coach was convinced was a lesbian, you would have it in the bag. You still weren’t too sure about it. Knowing that your body was getting exposed to millions of people over the television was enough to raise your anxiety.

Attempting to not look like a total fool, you took a deep breath and nodded in response to her question. “Well, as someone who is in the career path of accounting, I have faced a lot of adversarial coworkers and peers. I believe that the best way that young women can gain success is to keep their self-confidence and never stop allowing themselves to learn and grow both professionally and personally. The best way to prove your doubters wrong is to excel in the path that you choose.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were saying, but you had hoped that it came across as something really intelligent to the judges. This was a question you had practiced for so long with your coach, but your mind drew a blank. 

Robert held back a laugh or at least a scoff. There’s no way he would hire you. With a face like that and the way you spoke, there’s no way that you knew how to do anything within the range of taxes or money. Probably a case of affirmative action, he was sure. Either that or you sucked the right man’s dick to get to where you were now. 

Miss America 2003 grinned. “Thank you, Miss Georgia. What a lovely way of thinking. I wish you the best of luck! Mr. Fischer, do you have a question?”

Robert’s bright blue eyes pierced into yours, despite the fair amount of distance from each other. He leaned into his mic. “Do you believe that you get respected more or less because of your appearance?”

The question felt like a double-edged sword. The last thing the general public wanted to hear was that you thought you were beautiful. It weirded people out to acknowledge your beauty, according to your coach.

“While I do think that appearance does affect the way that strangers treat others, it’s in your personality and how you treat others that matters. For me, it doesn’t matter what someone looks like for me to respect them. People that base how they treat others based on looks aren’t worth your time.” You had only hoped that the foundation you had on was holding back the sweat threatening to fall down your forehead. Robert Fischer had been asking the most condescending and borderline rude questions to everyone. It was bound to happen to you, too.

“Mm. Thank you.” He didn’t look amused.

Music began to play and the audience cheered. You smiled again at the judges' table before leaving the stage in the T walk. Once you were off stage and out of sight of both the judges and the audience, you let out a sigh and released the way that you were sucking in your stomach. You had been doing pageants like this ever since you were a little girl and now, your dream of being in this competition was real. Why did it feel so humiliating?

There was only one final day. It was the evening gown portion and the announcement of Miss America for the year. After that, you could finally relax. That is, unless you won and would immediately have to start your training for Miss Universe. Maybe you didn’t want to relax, after all. 

By the time the sun fell, most of the contestants were either spending their last night together in their hotel rooms and doing spa nights while the rest decided to go out to the clubs. You were advised not to befriend any of them by your coach to avoid feeling guilty when you eventually won and they lost. Now, you were alone at a nearby bar nursing a beer and listening to the band playing. It was a cover band of The Killers. Mr. Brightside was the current song getting butchered by the young singer.

It was freeing to be out of dresses and swimsuits and finally not showing off your body. You wore loose jeans and a top with a jacket over it. If they didn’t know you, nobody would even know that you were who you were.

You felt someone sit next to you. In a bar of several open seats, of course, they chose the one basically on top of you. They waved the bartender down and ordered a whiskey. The voice was familiar, one that was ringing in your head all day. You faced him to confirm your suspicions. Robert fucking Fischer.

The drink in your hand was what you tried to focus on. “Not very talkative off stage, huh?” It would be rude to ignore him, you knew that. 

You shrugged. “My social battery is drained.” While it was partially the truth, he was the last person you wanted to be speaking to. 

“You know,” he swirled the whiskey in his glass, “it’s between you and Miss California.” He took a generous sip of his drink as he let the information sink in. 

Excitement and guilt mixed in your stomach. “You shouldn’t say that. We shouldn’t even be speaking, Mr. Fischer.” You finished your drink and stood from the barstool. His hand wrapped around your wrist and stopped you from taking a step away.

“You wanna win, don’t you?” You sat back down, mostly involuntarily, and met his eyes with your own again. They were almost hypnotizing. “I can make that happen.”

“What do you mean?” Questions ran through your head. Was he asking for a bribe? Maybe he had some sort of bet running on you winning.

He smirked at the sight of your intrigue. “This whole competition’s about who’s the best woman, right? They’re still forgetting about the most important thing that makes a woman.” He leaned in closer to you, his hot breath against your skin. “How well they can fuck.”

You waited a moment to make sure that he was being serious, hoping that he wasn’t. The lustful look in his eyes didn’t tell you that he was joking at all. “You’re disgusting.”

“Even if I am, I’m the deciding factor on whether you go down in history as a winner or as nobody at all.” He finished his drink and stood up, fixing his tie. “Johnson likes you. Miss 2003 wants California. It’s all up to me.”

If he was lying, rejecting him wouldn’t mean much in the long run. If he wasn’t, you probably would’ve spent the rest of your life regretting taking him to bed. “Someone will see us going to the hotel together.”

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you one of his room keys. “Room 704. Wait ten minutes and then come up.” Without saying another word, he dropped some cash on the bar for his drink and left.

The room key felt heavy in your hand. Was winning worth anything if it wasn’t honest? He better have a decent-sized dick if you were really going to do this. 

You felt a hand tap your shoulder. “Y/n L/n? Oh my god, I’m such a big fan! I’ve been watching the whole pageant with my daughter, she loves you!” A woman shook your hand, feeling a bit too formal. The guilt grew in your stomach. How could you be a role model for little girls like this? “Can I have a picture?”

Despite your appearance, you nodded. The room key burned a hole in your pocket as you fixed your hair and took a picture with the woman. Hopefully, the dim light of the bar made you look better than you felt. 

It had already been fifteen minutes since Robert had left. You finally paid for your drink and headed for the hotel. With each step, your anxiety grew. The elevator rose to the seventh floor and you stopped in front of 704. Instead of knocking, you pulled the room key out and inserted it into the door. The light flashed green and you pushed it open. 

Robert was sitting at the edge of the bed without his clothes, stroking himself and staring at the door until you finally walked in. “You’re late.” You kept your eyes around his, trying to prevent yourself from looking any lower.

“I got caught up with something.” You took your jacket off and laid it on the office chair. Given his state of undress, you weren’t entirely sure whether or not you should strip now or wait for his instruction. He seemed like the type who was obsessed with control, especially in the bedroom. The last thing you needed was for him to get angry with you over something so trivial and ruin your chances.

He rolled his eyes. “Sounds like you don’t really want this, don’t you? To win?”

Frantically, you shook your head. “I want it.”

He pointed to the floor right in front of him and spread his knees further apart. You didn’t respond, knowing it was most likely for nothing, and knelt in front of him. For the way that he acted, you would assume it was because he was overcompensating. God, you were wrong.

His free hand grabbed hold of your hair and pushed your head closer to his aching cock. He leaned back. “You’re not gonna win just by looking at it.” You held back from commenting on his attitude and kissed the blushing red tip, the same color as his lips. 

You flattened your tongue against the underside of his head, allowing his precum and your saliva to mix. After hearing the slightest moan of pleasure from him, which was an exhale at best, you took a few inches of him into your mouth. His hand in your hair guided you back and forth along his length.

“That’s all you’re gonna take? I think you could do much better than that.” He taunted, not pushing you down and wanting you to do it voluntarily. “Or, I could just call down Miss California. She’d love to deepthroat me.”

You tried to relax your throat and took him deeper. He was big, much bigger than what you were used to, but you could take him. You inched deeper until your nose pressed against his lower stomach and your breathing was constricted. “Atta girl.” He smelled like the generic body soap the hotel offered with a mix of his cologne. If you could focus on breathing through your nose and sucking him off the best you could, this would be over quickly.

Hearing his heavy breathing and attempts to hide his whimpers sent shockwaves down your spine. You felt the warmth growing in between your legs the more you pleasured him. “I’m about to cum. You’ll swallow, right?”

While you couldn’t answer, you made a sound of agreement that vibrated down your throat. You’d need to do some vocal treatment and tea tonight so you still could speak tomorrow. “Fuck.” He gripped your hair tighter as he came, ropes of cum shooting down your throat.

He finally pulled out once he had fully finished. You wiped a trail of cum and spit from your lips and looked up to him. “Not bad. Though, I’ve had much better. I guess I overestimated you. Take off the rest of your clothes.”

“What does that mean?” You cocked a brow. It felt even more humiliating considering your position in front of him and the way that you could still taste the remnants of his semen coating your throat. 

“Oh, come on. You get a high-paying job straight out of college at a Big 4? You’re either a genius, which I doubt considering half of the answers you’ve given so far, or you’ve slept your way into the job. Now, strip for me.” He spoke matter-of-factly. It was like he’d already convinced himself of his theories, even though they were far from the truth. Couldn’t imagine that a woman like you could make her way up the corporate ladder without the help of rich and successful parents. 

There was no use in arguing, you told yourself and took your clothes off until you were standing naked in front of him. “How exactly is the winner chosen? Aren’t there scoresheets? You’re making it sound like it’s entirely based on personal preference.”

He laughed, this time, a genuine one. “Scoresheets are arbitrary. We make those up to align with who we like the best.” He gestured to the bed behind him with his head as he stood. You followed his order and sat on the edge where he had previously been. His tongue flicked around his lips as he got a good look at you, sitting there so obediently for him. “Didn’t even touch you yet and you’re already dripping.” 

You gave him your best version of doe eyes that you could, following the instruction of your coach. She always said that facial expressions were the most important aspect of impressing someone. If you could read the person and make yourself into their ideal partner, they’d be putty in your hands. Robert seems to like to be in charge and superior, but there was an underlying hint of something you couldn’t put your finger on. Maybe it was the desire to be nurtured? 

“Can’t imagine you’ll feel that good. Not as tight as you used to be, hm?” He took hold of your knees and separated them enough for his hips to fit. He was slowly getting harder again and you felt his tip nudge your clit before gathering your arousal on himself. “How do you think we can remedy that?”

He jerked himself off using your slick, then moved the tip to settle against your ass. You immediately stiffened against him and put your hands against his chest. “No. I don’t do that.”

He groaned and took a step away from you. “Little Miss Georgia Peach is too good to take it up the ass? I’m trying to help you win, but I guess you don’t care.” He picked up your discarded clothes and tossed them to you. 

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the hotel phone and began to dial a number. He checked his watch. The person he was dialing answered. “Yeah, hi. Annie? I need you to do something for me. If you could-” You almost leaped towards the phone and pressed the button, ending the call. Annie was Miss California, he didn’t even need to continue the call for you to understand what he was doing.

“I’ll let you!” You were nearly out of breath, your voice hoarse.

He had to hide his smile from his plan working. “No, sweetheart. You have to ask me for it. Specifically.”

“I want you to fuck my ass, Robert.” You gulped. If this wasn’t your dream, you wouldn’t be begging him like this.

“Turn around.” Once you turned, his hands were on your waist and his tip rested against your ass. He slipped two fingers into your pussy, gathering arousal, and then re-lubed his cock. You’d done this before, but it wasn’t something you necessarily enjoyed. The pain outweighed the pleasure. You just needed to breathe through it.

Your hands gripped the sheets below once his head was inside your tight hole. He slowly pushed further inside until he bottomed out. The white, hot pain was rippling through your body. You focused on inhaling and exhaling and continuing to hold tightly to the bedsheets.

He offered you some mercy, moving only after about ten seconds of being inside. After that, he fucked you as he pleased, entirely ignoring how you might’ve been feeling. You were gonna be sore tomorrow. “Fuck, this is how Miss America should feel.”

He pushed your face into the bed so that he could get a better angle and began to fuck into you roughly, rutting into you like he’d die if he didn’t cum within the next few minutes. 

Confusion surrounded you when he pulled out and you felt a sudden emptiness. Not that you were complaining. He flipped you to your back and you could barely process what he was doing before his hot cum was spurting onto your breasts and stomach.

He pushed his hair back and caught his breath, taking a step away from you. “Get dressed and leave. I’ve got some calls to make.”

You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach at his confirmation of your win. Maybe it was the orgasm that had never reached climax. Either way, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow. 

~~

Pins pricked against your soft skin as they held parts of your evening gown together. Lights glare on you and your competitors on the stage. It took a lot of your might to not show the extreme soreness that you felt between your legs. You knew that if you were to touch your breasts or tighten the dress a bit more, you’d only be pushing further against the bruises Robert had given you.

The man in question sat in his chair with the other two judges, arms crossed as usual. He barely gave you a passing glance, instead, he focused on discussing things with the judges or looking at the other contestants. Maybe it was just a ploy to not make it seem like he already knew who was going to win. Certainly, that was it. 

The announcer walked on the stage from the judge’s panel with an envelope in his hand. That envelope had your name on it, you knew. He was an irrelevant game show host that you remembered watching when you were home sick from school as a child. Whatever paid the bills.

You kept your award-winning smile on while the announcer took his microphone and began to speak about how the competition was the opposite of what most people thought when it came to beauty pageants. Mostly pandering and filibustering so that the program would be able to run another round of advertisements when they played it on cable. 

“Well, I have in my hand the name of Miss America of this year. Without further ado, why don’t I open it and save these women some anxiety?” He laughed at his own joke while the audience cheered. 

Miss California stood next to you on your left and Miss Connecticut on your right. As per tradition, you held hands with them while the announcer opened the envelope of the winner. You almost felt bad for them, knowing that they were going to lose.

The envelope was open. The announcer leaned into the microphone. “And the new Miss America is…Miss California!”

It was as if you were seeing things in black and white. Confetti fell from the ceiling and Miss California dropped your hand to receive her flowers and sash. You knew that crying would make you look bad, like a sore loser, but that’s the only thing that you felt like doing. You forced a smile and clapped for her.

Robert clapped for the winner, though his cold stare was on you. What you’d never forget was the smile plastered on his face. 

He had won.

#inception #robert fischer x reader #cillian murphy x reader #robert fischer #odiesdayoff #cillian murphy

[ichorai]

blueberries ; one.

pairing ; joey tribbiani x gn!reader chapter synopsis ; the one with runaway brides, pregnant wives, and homewreckers. wc ; 8.5k warnings / includes ; talks of sex/suggestive content, mild cursing, mentions of cheating, reader is a physicist and also bisexual, literally everyone in the group is fruity other than ross lol

series masterlist. main masterlist.

The pretty waitress strode towards you with a sweet smile, your warm cup of tea balanced on one hand, and Joey’s slice of double fudge cake in the other. She dropped it by the table and you noticed a small piece of folded paper by the edge of your cup. 

Once she was gone, you picked up the paper and unfurled it, a smile growing across your lips.

“Whatcha got there?” Chandler asked, peering over your shoulder. 

“I think it’s the waitress’ number,” you replied, folding it back and pocketing it safely within your jeans. “She’s real pretty.”

Joey, already halfway through with his cake, teasingly spoke around a full mouth, “Too bad you never leave the house other than to hang with us. I can take that number off of you if you never end up using it.”

You shot him a half-hearted scowl, but remained quiet.

Just then, Monica and Phoebe strolled into the cafe, taking a seat on the large sofa beside you and Chandler. 

“There’s nothing to say, really,” the dark-haired woman told Phoebe in a defensive tone. “He’s just some guy I work with.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Joey asked, having fully inhaled his cake in a matter of minutes. 

“Monica’s going out with someone,” you replied, wrinkling your nose in amusement and curling your legs up beneath you. You drank a sip of your tea as an excuse to hide away from her withering glare. “Isn’t that right, Monica?”

A roguish grin stretched across Joey’s features. “Come on. What’s the catch? You’re going out with a guy—there’s gotta be somethin’ wrong with him.”

“Does he eat chalk?” Phoebe queried, placing a comforting hand on Monica’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to go through what I went through with Carl, you know?”

The five of you grimaced at the memory of Carl.

“It’s not even a date!” said Monica, brushing her dark hair away from her face. “It’s just two people going out to dinner—and not having sex.”

Chandler scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sounds like all the dates I’ve had.”

It was then that Ross came into the cafe, drenched from foot to toe. You glanced behind you to the window, surprised to see that it had started to rain without you realizing. It looked like your long-time friend was crying, but you couldn’t really tell if it was rainwater or tears that were on his face.

“Hi,” he mumbled, morose. 

You arched a brow. “You okay, Ross?”

He shook his head, squeezing between you and Chandler on the sofa. The two of you grimaced when his sodden clothes dripped all over you, and Chandler rolled his eyes before getting up and sinking into another chair. 

“Feels like someone reached down my throat, ripped out my small intestine, pulled it out of my mouth, and tied it around my neck.”

“Cookie?” Chandler offered. Ross ignored him.

Monica sighed. “Carol moved her stuff out today,” she offered as an explanation, knowing Ross would take well over an hour of moping to finally get to the point. “Let me go grab you some coffee.”

As his sister left, Ross crossed his arms, swatting Phoebe away when she tried to cleanse his aura, as she often did. “I’ll be fine—really, I will. I hope she’ll be very happy.”

“No, you don’t, Ross,” you quipped.

“No, I don’t! To hell with her, she left me!”

Joey snorted. “And you never knew she was a lesbian?”

“I knew—” you said pointedly. “Ross just never listened to me.”

“I didn’t think you were being serious!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know, sometimes you joke about things being gay and stuff so I just thought it was a joke I wasn’t in on. Because, you know, I’m not—”

Lightly punching him in the shoulder, you gave him a stern look. “I know you’re not gay, Ross. Why would I joke about your wife being gay?”

“I mean, you did say she was really hot once,” Phoebe chimed, much to your dismay. At your soured expression, the blonde spoke up again, “What? I think she’s hot, too!”

Ross buried his face into his hands, groaning loudly. “Why does everyone keep fixating on the fact that she’s a lesbian? She didn’t know—how would I have known?”

“Didn’t she tell you that she just kinda found dicks gross at one point?” Chandler asked, lounging in an awkward position on the chair. Ross grumbled quietly under his breath, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation of his wife being gay. “Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian. Being bisexual is exhausting—do I want a man to sweep me off my feet or do I want a woman to sweep me off my feet? I’ll never know.”

Monica came back with the cup of coffee, handing it to Ross before turning to you excitedly. “Hey, Y/N. The waitress was asking about you.”

“Oh, yeah? What did she say?”

“She wanted to know if you were single or not.”

With bated breath, you snuck a glance to the counter, watching the pretty waitress take another customer’s order.

“And?”

“I told her you were single,” Monica replied. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us…?”

“I’m single,” you reassured them. Ross made a strange noise that sounded like Chewbaca choking on a stick at the reminder of being single. “Ross, listen. It’s not your fault that your wife is queer—despite me telling you multiple times that she was—so let’s look at the bright side here. She’s not leaving you because of you. It’s the literal definition of it’s not you, it’s me.”

With a frown, Ross pried his fingers away from his still-damp face. “Yeah, I guess…”

Joey clapped his hands together, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “Alright, Ross, look. You’re feelin’ a lot of pain right now. You’re hurting. Can I tell you what the answer is?”

Ross nodded, apprehensive.

“Strip joints!”

The rest of you groaned. 

Joey shrugged, genuinely confused as to why it wouldn’t be a good idea. “Come on, you’re single now! Gotta release those hormones somehow.”

“See, I don’t want to be single!” Ross exclaimed in exasperation. “I just wanna be married again.”

As if on cue, a woman ran into the cafe, wearing a rather large white wedding dress. She was soaked and breathless, and her dripping brown hair was a mess, and the white fabric was streaked with dirt and mud and city street gunk.

All of you blinked in surprise. 

Chandler gestured to the door in a pleading manner. “And I just want a million dollars!”

“A million dollars really isn’t all that much—ask for a hundred million,” you told him. 

“A billion dollars!” he shouted.

“That’s too much. Nobody should have a billion dollars.”

“A trillion dollars!” he yelled again, ignoring you completely.

You rolled your eyes, before turning your gaze back to the lost woman in a wedding dress.

Concerned, Monica stood up, expression twisted into one of part-disbelief and part-recognition. 

“Rachel?” she asked as she approached the woman. 

“Oh, my God, Monica, thank goodness!” She threw her arms around a stricken Monica, the white fabrics of her wedding dress just about slapping her in the face. She spoke quickly, voice crackling with emotion. “I went to your apartment and some guy with a big hammer said you might be here, and you are! Gosh, I’m just so happy to see you!”

The rest of the group watched the two of them with evident confusion, and Monica led Rachel to the couch. “Oh, everybody, this is Rachel, another Lincoln High survivor. Rachel, this is everybody—that’s Chandler, Phoebe, Joey, Y/N… you remember my brother Ross, don’t you?”

“Sure!” Rachel smiled brightly, strangely cheerful for someone in a ruined, soaking wedding dress.

To make space for her and her rather spacious dress, you got up from the large couch and moved to Joey, bumping his hip playfully to get him to scooch aside on his chair so you could sit beside him. The two of you fought over space for a bit before he relented, grabbing your legs and swinging them over his thighs. You sent him a smug grin as you leaned back comfortably and Joey only stuck his tongue out at you childishly.

“So, uh, are you going to tell us now or are we waiting for four wet bridesmaids, too?” Monica queried. 

“Wouldn’t be so bad, huh?” Joey whispered into your ear, and you jabbed an elbow into his side to shut him up.

“Oh, God,” Rachel started, gesturing emphatically with her hands. It didn’t slip your notice when Ross sat up straight, watching the new woman with wide eyes. “It started about half an hour before the wedding. I was in this room where we were keeping all these presents and I was looking at this gravy boat! This really gorgeous Limoges gravy boat, you see. Which led me to realize that… I was more turned on looking at this gravy boat than by Barry! And I got really freaked out, because how could I get married to someone I think is less attractive than a gravy boat? And I just kinda stare at him and I realize that he looks just like Mr. Potato Head. You know, I always thought he looked familiar but…” she trailed off, looking ready to burst into tears. “Anyway, I just had to get out of there—and I didn’t know anywhere else to go. I know you and I have drifted apart but you’re the only person I know who lived in the city.”

Pursing her lips, Monica eyed Rachel quizzically. “... Who wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

Rachel grimaced. “I was kinda hoping that wouldn’t be an issue.”

You stepped into Monica’s apartment, waving hello to the group of friends gathered on her couch.

“Hey guys,” you greeted, plopping down next to Rachel, still in her wedding dress. “Sorry I had to duck out at the cafe—work called. What’d I miss?”

“Rachel’s staying at Monica’s place now,” replied Phoebe. “I sang her a song to cheer her up!”

From behind the sofa, Joey curled an arm around you, and his other went over Rachel’s shoulders. “Hey, Rach, if you ever need a place to stay—Chandler and I live right across the hall. And Chandler’s away a lot.”

“Can you stop hitting on her?” you hissed, swatting his hand away. “God, Joey, it’s her wedding day!”

“Hey, don’t be jealous. I offered you the same when I first met you!” 

“Jo, honey, I had my own apartment then, and I still have my own apartment now.”

The man shrugged, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the side of your head. “The offer still stands, sweetheart.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows, gesturing between the two of you. “So are you two… like…?”

“Oh, no!” you exclaimed, slapping a hand over Joey’s mouth to make sure he didn’t say something stupid. “He’s just flirty with everyone.”

Joey’s tongue darted out to lick across your palm and you quickly retracted your hand with an exclamation of disgust, wiping it over his jacket before shoving him. “You’re so gross.”

He trotted away to Chandler in the kitchen before you could hit him again, grinning like a fool.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Chandler peered through the peeping hole, and gasped in an overexaggerated manner.

“It’s Paul the wine guy!”

Phoebe tilted her head. “Monica, is your ‘guy from work’ date Paul the wine guy?”

With a smile, Ross placed a hand on his sister’s arm. “Oh my God, he finally asked you out on a date?”

“Y-Yeah, I was supposed to go out with him for lunch but…” Monica looked at Rachel on the sofa. “Rach, wait, I can cancel!”

“Oh, please, no, you should go, Monica! I’ll be fine!” the brunette assured her. 

“Do you want me to stay, Ross? Will you be okay?” 

Ross looked torn, but you sent him a nasty glare that clearly meant—stop being a whiny bitch baby and let your sister go. He straightened himself, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yes, of course. You should go.”

Monica skipped to the door with a bright smile, slowly opening it to reveal Paul on the other side with—what do you know, a wine bottle. You pressed a fist to your lips to hide your laugh with a cough.

The man was quite the looker, and you had to roll your eyes to the ceiling when Phoebe started giggling with Monica like schoolgirls. As Monica said her goodbyes and strode out the door with Paul, Rachel and Ross had moved to the kitchen, where he began asking Rachel what her plans were for the night.

“Well, if you’re feeling lonely, you can always come to my place—Chandler and Joey are helping me put together some new furniture.”

Chandler held up a sloshing glass of orange juice he fished from the fridge. “It’s gonna be a blast! I just can’t wait to hit nails with a hammer like a real man!” he said, practically dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh,” said Rachel as she got up. “I’m flattered, really, but I think I just want to unwind here for tonight. It’s been a long day.” She excused herself, heading to the bathroom. 

Though Ross looked a little dejected, Joey and Chandler shrugged it off easily. “Hey, Phoebe, you wanna help out?”

The blonde pursed her lips in thought. “Mm, I wish I could, but I don’t want to.” 

You snorted in amusement, slinging an arm around her.

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Ross. “Could really use the company right now.”

“Oh, sorry, Ross, I can’t,” you winced. “I’ve got to run some calculations for work before tomorrow. I’ve got a presentation first thing on Monday. But call me if you need help, okay?” 

Apologetically, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Bye, guys. Tell Rachel it was nice meeting her for me, will you? I should get going now.”

“What, and I don’t get a goodbye kiss?” Joey asked, stretching his arms out with an exaggerated pout. 

With a huff, you reluctantly gave him a hug, before swiftly pecking his cheek. “See you guys later, alright? You want a kiss too, Chandler?” 

“Would be nice,” he replied, scuffing the floor with the heel of his shoe. “I’m touch starved.”

“We know,” the four of you replied in tandem, before bursting into laughter.

You leaned over to kiss Chandler’s cheek too, and then Phoebe’s for good measure, before waving one last time and sliding out the door.

It wasn’t even two hours later when you got a call, with Ross yelling something about how he couldn’t feel his legs and how his life was crumbling apart because Chandler hammered a screw into his bookshelf instead of a nail. Joey was in the background moaning about how hungry he was, and Chandler was screaming at Ross to calm down, which obviously made Ross even more upset.

So there you were, standing outside of Ross’ door with two boxes of pizza and sleepy eyes. You passed out on top of your work an hour through, the ringing from Ross’ call being what shocked you awake. 

As soon as the door swung open, Ross immediately enveloped you in a hug, speaking so quickly that it all went in one ear and out the other. Something about his lesbian wife, you supposed. You patted his back lethargically. 

Joey came forward to take the pizzas off of you, somehow already managing to stuff half a slice into his face with one bite. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/N. I could kiss you right now.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Please don’t.”

Littered around Ross’ relatively empty apartment was a bunch of loose piles of wood and metal poles and silver nails and screws haphazardly strewn all over the floor. 

“You guys are a mess.”

For the rest of the time, the three men ate as they watched you tiredly read over the manuals, before slowly but accurately assembling together the furniture. They all clapped once you finally put together the bookshelf—amazed at the fact that it didn’t topple to the ground as soon as you put one book on top, as it did when they tried. 

“You’re good with your hands,” Joey commented slyly. “Wonder what else they’re good at.”

“I’ve been told I’m good at punching people,” you replied dryly, sitting on a single stool and leaning against Joey for support, seeing as Ross didn’t have a couch anymore. You closed your eyes sleepily, and he placed an arm around you. Quietly, you mumbled out, “If I fall asleep, just tell Ross it’s not because I hate him, okay? I have a feeling just about anything would set him off tonight.”

“What if there’s only one person for everybody, you know?” Ross blubbered to Chandler from across the room, proving your point exactly. “What if you just get one chance—and that’s it?”

Pulling a sour expression, Joey cocked his head as he said, “What the hell are you talking about, Ross? One person? That’s so… limiting. It’s like saying there’s only one ice cream flavor you like. Let me tell you something, Ross, there’s tons of ice cream flavors out there. There’s rocky road, and cookie dough, and Bing cherry vanilla! You can get ‘em with jimmies, or nuts, or whipped cream, if you know what I’m saying.” He winked down at you and you pinched his side. “Personally, I think I’m a mint chocolate chip. Chandler—you’re a raspberry sorbet. Y/N, I think you’d be somethin’ like blueberry cheesecake. And Ross… you’re a… vanilla. With nuts, if we’re going wild with it.”

Mildly offended that Joey called him vanilla, Ross opened his mouth to retort something, but Chandler beat him to it.

“You think I’m raspberry sorbet?”

Joey waved the both of them away. “Anyways, the point is, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to you! You got married when you were like, what? Eight? Welcome back to the world—grab a spoon!”

“Though, your options are a bit more limited seeing as you’re the only straight one in this room,” you chimed, lifting your head from Joey’s side with a sleepy grin. Ross shot you a dirty look. 

“Honestly, I don’t know if I’m horny or hungry.”

“Ugh, you’re gross,” you complained, letting your eyes slip back shut. 

Groaning in disgust, Chandler backed away. “Stay out of my freezer.”

 Ross sighed heavily, sliding down the wall and slumping against it as if he were a ragdoll. There was a beer can in his hand, one that he claimed was Carol’s favorite drink, and he took a long swig. 

“Grab a spoon, pfft,” Ross mocked. “Do you know how long it’s been since I grabbed a spoon? You know, even if I could get it together to ask a woman out, who’d I ask?”

Exhaling softly, you moved away from Joey (much to his dismay, he was just getting warm with you cozying up to his side), and sat down beside Ross.

“Hey, dude,” you said, nudging his arm. “It’s okay if you haven’t grabbed a spoon in a while. Grabbing spoons as quickly as you can won’t instantly make things better. Things like this take time—you don’t have to rush into anything. Whatever happens, happens man. You’ll be okay. I mean, it’s not like either of you did anything wrong. It’s just life, you know?”

Tears pricked the corners of Ross’ eyes. He ducked his head so you wouldn’t see, but you knew they were there nonetheless.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he mumbled, sniffling. Pursing your lips, you roped him into an embrace.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” Chandler said, biting down on a slice of pizza. He turned to Joey again with a furrowed brow. “Now back to the things that are actually important. Why on earth do you think I’m raspberry sorbet?”

The next morning, you found yourself having breakfast at Monica’s place, sitting between Chandler and Joey, who had just dumped the coffee Rachel made for them into your cup of tea while her back was turned. 

You kicked both of them underneath the table, but smiled sweetly when Rachel came back, surprised at how quickly the two boys had downed their coffee.

“Would you like some?” Rachel asked. “It’s my first time making it!”

“No!” you blurted out, embarrassingly quick. “Sorry, I’m just—trying to cut back on caffeine.”

“Suit yourself,” she replied, before leaning back against the sink. “I do have a question for you guys though—do you, uhm… all have jobs?”

Monica cocked her head, biting into her buttered toast. “Yeah, we all have jobs. See, that’s how we buy things.”

“Ugh, capitalism,” you muttered under your breath, taking a sip of your mug before realizing that it was full of the bitter coffee that Rachel made, and tried to discreetly spit it back out. Joey noticed however, and patted your back sympathetically.

“You and your fancy words, Y/N,” he said, as if you were just making the word up.

Rachel pulled the dark bathrobe tighter around her figure. “What do all of you do?”

“Well, you know I’m a chef,” said Monica. “Y/N is a physicist, Joey is an actor, and Chandler… uhm… Chandler plays with numbers and data and all that.”

“Wow! Would I have seen you in anything?” she asked Joey.

“Eh, mostly regional work—”

“He was in that Wee One’s production of Pinocchio,” you put in, earning yourself a pinch to the thigh. You grinned at him cheekily.

Chandler barked out a laugh, mimicking the line of, “Look Geppeto, I’m a real live boy!”

“I’m not taking this abuse,” said Joey, standing up to head to the door.

The two of you apologized quietly, before Chandler abruptly stood up and pranced out the door singing, “Once I was a wooden boy, a little wooden boy!”

Joey followed him back to their apartment, yelling out obscenities along the way.

You rolled your eyes. “Love to talk more, ladies, but I’ve gotta head to work.”

“What exactly do you do, though?” Rachel asked. It wasn’t often that you saw someone genuinely curious about your work, other than Ross. 

“I specialize in quantum physics—I do quite a bit of research for my field, and propose theories, and sometimes I lecture students working on their doctorate degrees. In fact, that was how I met Ross—we were both teaching at the same university for a couple months and became friends, and through him, I met the rest of the group.”

Rachel blinked at you with amazement. “That sounds amazing! Do you know how I could get one of those?”

“Er… what?”

“You know. A job. Like the rest of you have.”

Sending Monica a confused glance, you said, “Rachel, have you never had a job before?”

“Well,” she taps her finger against her lips, “I’ve babysat for cash before. Does that count?”

“Oh, honey,” simpered Monica from beside Rachel. “Good luck finding one. I’m sure there’s plenty of restaurants or cafes looking to hire a waitress.”

The memory of the waitress from yesterday flashed into your mind—with her pretty eyes and sweet smile… 

You shook your head, before checking the time. You blanched upon seeing that you were nearly late for your presentation. “Gosh, I gotta run. See you guys later!”

That night, the entire friend group sat around Rachel as she hovered over all the credit cards she had that were paid by her father.

“Come on, give her a break. It’s hard to live on your own for the first time,” Phoebe said.

Rachel frowned at the nice words, as if she was going to cry. “Oh, thank you, Pheebs.”

“Yeah, I remember I was fourteen and my mom had just killed herself and my stepdad was in prison! I didn’t know anybody, so I ended up living with this albino guy who was cleaning windshields outside Port Authority. And then, heh, what do you know, he killed himself, too. Then I found aromatherapy! So believe me, I know exactly how you feel.” The blonde smiled sweetly, and you couldn’t help but give her a one-armed hug from the side.

“Here,” Monica said, handing Rachel a pair of large orange scissors. “Just cut ‘em. You’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

The group began chanting ‘cut, cut, cut!’ as if it were some sort of cult ritual. Finally, Rachel straightened herself and cut through each of the cards, lips puckered in a pout.

“Welcome to the real world,” said Chandler.

“It sucks,” you chimed.

“You’re gonna love it!” exclaimed Monica.

The waitress was staring at you again. You could feel her eyes practically boring holes into the back of your neck. Apprehensively, you turned ever so slightly to meet her gaze, but she quickly pretended to be busy with wiping down the counters.

Joey snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing your attention back to him.

“Are you even listening?” he asked. 

“No,” you replied easily, which made him snort out a laugh.

Monica gestured wildly as she explained again to the confused men. “It’s just, for us, kissing is as important as any part of it.”

“Yeah, right,” Joey scoffed. Once he realized that the three women were dead serious, he furrowed his brows. “Wait, you’re not pulling my leg?”

Nodding emphatically, Rachel said, “Everything you need to know is in that first kiss!”

With a shrug, Chandler put forth, “Yeah, I think for us, kissing is more like an opening act. It’s like the stand-up comedian you have to sit through before Pink Floyd comes out.”

Ross murmured his agreement rather sheepishly. “Right, and it’s not like we don’t like the comedian, it’s just that… that’s not why we bought the ticket.” 

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Phoebe. “Do you prefer the comedian or… Pink Floyd?”

With a hum, you traced the rim of your teacup with your pointer finger before sighing. “I don’t really have a concrete answer for that, honestly. Both the comedian and the actual show are great, but—sometimes I don’t even want the comedian at all, and sometimes I don’t want the show at all. It depends on the person and the situation.” A bit quieter, you tacked on, “Sometimes the longer the comedian drags on, the better the show’ll be after. And sometimes the comedian and the show perform at the same time—you guys gotta think outside the box, here.”

The rest of the group blinked at you owlishly. 

With a smile, Rachel whooped. “Y/N, you little devil! I didn’t know you were into foreplay! But you know what, you’re right. Maybe the comedian should never leave the stage!”

Heat flushed your cheeks at Rachel’s loud words. You wondered if the waitress could hear your conversation. “Woah, I never said that—”

“I’m confused,” Joey interjected. “Are we still talking about sex?”

You watched in amusement as Chandler and Joey began digging into Monica’s lasagne in search of Rachel’s lost wedding ring. A bit of sauce smeared over Joey’s cheek and you reached over to wipe it away with your thumb, muttering out how ridiculous they looked nearly elbow-deep in cheese and pasta.

There was a knock at the door, and when Monica swung it open, you were greeted with a forlorn Ross. Honestly, when wasn’t he forlorn these days?

“Hi,” he said, looking like he wanted a hole to open up in the ground and swallow him whole.

“Why the long face?” you asked, moving away from the pair rifling through the lasagna to the Geller siblings by the door. 

Ross’ voice cracked a little as he replied, “Carol’s pregnant.”

“I found it!” Phoebe exclaimed from behind you, which was funny because she didn’t have any lasagna on her hands while the other two boys held handfuls of the pasta. She held the ring up, covered in marinara sauce and small chunks of beef, holding it out to Rachel.

Monica’s face dropped in shock. “Wh-Wha—? Wh… What?” 

“Yeah. Do that for another two hours, and you might be where I am right now,” Ross said, walking into the apartment. 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you led him to the couch for him to take a seat. “How do you fit into this whole thing?”

“Carol says she and Susan want me to be involved, but if I’m not comfortable with it—then I don’t have to be. Basically, it’s totally up to me.”

Phoebe called out from the sink as she washed her hands, “She’s so great! I miss her.”

They half-heartedly glared at her, but you stifled a laugh. 

“What does she mean by involved?” asked Monica.

“Presumably, the biggest part of your job is done!” Chandler added, which earned him a light punch to the shoulder.

Scratching his head, Ross loosened his tie, feeling like he was being suffocated. “They want me to go down to this sonogram thing with them tomorrow. I have no idea if I’m going or not. No matter what I do, though… I’m still going to be a father.”

Clattering from the kitchen made the group turn their heads to see Joey practically attacking the lasagna with a spoon that was far too big, shoveling the pasta into his mouth. At the incredulous stares, Joey flinched defensively. “What? This is still ruined, right?”

Ross stood beside the television as he showed everybody the sonogram of the baby, a smile etched permanently across his face. “Isn’t that just amazing?”

You were just about to chime in about how big they already look, but Joey beat you to it by asking, “What the hell am I supposed to be looking at? Is that its foot or its head?”

“If you tilt your head to the left and relax your eyes, it kinda looks like an old potato,” Phoebe said as she squinted in concentration at the screen.

Ross eyed her warily. “Then don’t do that.”

From beside you, Monica started tearing up, and you could hear her little sniffles. Man, do the Gellers cry a lot. You wrapped an arm around her waist and she leaned her head onto your shoulder as the two of you watched the sonogram. 

“How’d your date go, Pheebs?” you asked the blonde as she walked into Central Perk. 

She made a noise of discontent, tugging her light blue coat off. “Not so good. He walked me to the subway and said, ‘we should do this again’.”

The rest of the group grimaced, saved for Rachel, who appeared confused.

“What? He said they should do it again—isn’t that good?”

“Uh, no,” Monica interjected, raising a finger. “Loosely translated, ‘we should do this again’ means ‘you will never see me naked’!”

Rachel reared back. “Since when?” 

“Since always!” said Joey. “It’s, like, dating language. How ‘it’s not you’ always means ‘it is you’.”

Chandler nodded. “Or ‘you’re such a nice guy’ means ‘I’m going to be dating leather-wearing alcoholics and complaining about them to you’! Not speaking from personal experience or anything.”

“Or how ‘I think we should see other people’ means ‘hah! I already am!’” Phoebe added.

“And everybody just knows this? Y/N, you’re the smart one. Is this true?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Well, I’d say it’s less about the phrase itself and more about how people use it nowadays. Nobody says ‘you’re such a nice guy’ without some sort of intention of friendzoning them, right?” 

Rachel still appeared miffed, so Joey piped up, “Yeah, it cushions the blow.”

“Like when you’re a kid and your parents put your old dog to sleep and they tell you it went off to live on some farm,” Chandler explained.

From opposite you, Ross’ eyes lit up. “That’s funny, because our parents actually did send our dog off to live on a farm!”

The rest of the group stared at him. 

“Uh, Ross—?” Monica started.

“Hello? The Milner’s farm in Connecticut? You don’t remember that? The Milners, they had this unbelievable farm and they had horses and rabbits that he could chase and…” The words died on his tongue as it slowly began to dawn upon him. “Oh, my God, Chi-Chi!”

The couch sank beneath your weight as you sat down, Joey’s script in hand.

“How could you do this to me, Tom? I thought we were best friends,” you read off the paper, trying your best not to laugh at Joey’s concentrated expression.

Joey was walking around with his hands perched on his hips, uttering the next line, “I was never only your friend. I loved you.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment, before you allowed a smile to break through.

“That was great, Jo!”

“Yeah?” He cuffed you on the shoulder with a genuine grin. “Let’s keep going.”

It was then that Chandler walked out from his room, waving hello to you. “What’re you two doing?”

“Practicing,” Joey replied. “Got a big audition coming up.”

Clearing your throat, you read the next line, standing up so you’d be able to face Joey. “What do you expect me to say, Tom?”

Joey shook his head, shoulders slumping. You couldn’t help but be impressed at how quickly he could fall into character. “Tell me you love me back.”

“I…” You stared at him, watching the way his gaze would dart from your eyes to your lips, and back up again. Man, he was a great actor. “I can’t tell you that.”

He sighed, resigned. “Then I’m going out for a smoke.”

Brandishing a cigarette from his pocket, he used a lighter to set off the end, before inhaling sharply. Not a second later, he was coughing with a grimace plastered across his face. “Damn it! How am I ever going to get the part if I don’t know how to smoke properly? This tastes awful.”

“Relax your hand,” Chandler chimed, sitting down on the couch. “Let your wrist go. No, wait, not so much. Alright, good. Now try taking a puff.”

Inhaling softly this time, Joey looked to the side, white plumes falling from the edges of his lips. He coughed once more. “Nope, no. I hate this!”

“Okay, no, give it to me.”

“I’m not giving you a cigarette!” Joey protested, pulling his arm away.

“No, it’s fine. You wanna get this part or not?”

You sat back down, grinning. “If it’s any motivation, I think smoking is hot. I don’t find smokers hot because, you know—lung cancer and everything—but the act of smoking? That’s hot.”

Joey narrowed his eyes at you, before reluctantly handing Chandler the cigarette.

“Alright, don’t think of it as a cigarette. Think of it as the thing that has been missing from your hand. When you’re holding it, you feel right. You feel complete.” Slowly, he brought it up to his mouth to take a puff, and as soon as his lips touched the end, he let out a loud groan as he exhaled. “Oh, my God.”

You had to wrestle him to take the cigarette away before he could breathe in any more. 

Later that night, you were back at Central Perk, sitting by Monica, who had her hand extended out in front of her. “They say that it’s from the tip of a guy’s thumb to the tip of his index finger.”

The three men, Ross, Chandler, and Joey, began extending their own hands, looking at the distance with disdain. 

You chortled a laugh when Ross asked if he could use either thumb.

Rachel strode up to the couches with a tray full of drinks. “Alright, don’t tell me! Decaf cappuccino for Joey, black coffee for Ross, latte for Chandler, peppermint mocha for Y/N, and an iced tea for Monica!”

She handed out each drink with a proud grin, and none of you had the heart to tell her that she had gotten every drink mixed up—save for yours. You began nursing your mocha with a small grin to her.

“I’m getting pretty good at this!” she exclaimed. God, she was so cute, you thought fondly as she walked away to take another customer’s order.

When her back was turned, the drinks were finally switched around, and you watched in amusement as they hurriedly exchanged mugs. It was then that Phoebe walked in, making incoherent noises and hands fluttering about as she muttered.

“You okay, Phoebe?” asked Joey. 

She waved him away. “Yeah, no, it’s not even worth—okay, I guess I’ll tell you guys about it. It’s my bank!”

Monica leaned forward. “What did they do to you?”

“I open up my mail and look at my monthly statement, and there’s five hundred extra dollars in my account!”

“Congrats!” you exclaimed just as Chandler sarcastically gasped out, “Satan’s minions at work again!”

“Now I have to go down there and deal with them,” Phoebe moped.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” crowed Joey. “Keep it!”

Vehemently, Phoebe shook her head. “No, it’s not mine! I didn’t earn it! If I kept it, it’d be like stealing!”

Rachel came back around with a cup of coffee, leaning over to tell Phoebe, “Yeah, but if you spent it, it’d be like shopping!” 

“Okay, but I’d never be able to enjoy it, you know? It’d be like this giant karmic debt!” she cried out, clearly frustrated with the entire ordeal. 

You would’ve replied with something to comfort her, but the thought was torn from you when you noticed Chandler awkwardly bent over the couch, as if trying to hide something.

“Dude, what are you doing?” you asked, peering over to look. “Damn it, Chandler!” you yelled, grabbing him by the belt and hauling him upright. 

With a roll of his eyes, he sat up, white smoke falling from his mouth as he blew out, defeated.

“Gross!” Monica yelled.

“You’ve been so good for three years, I can’t believe you!” said Phoebe. 

“And this,” Chandler held up the cigarette, “is my reward!”

Shaking his head, Ross held a hand out. “Hold on a second, remember what happened the last time you quit?”

“Okay, so this time I won’t quit! If anything, you should be angry at Joey and Y/N, they were smoking it all up in our apartment this morning!”

The two of you gasped. “No, we weren’t! I hate smoking!” Joey yelled. “Y/N was the one that said smoking was hot!”

You smacked his arm. “The act of it is, actual smokers aren’t hot! Don’t you remember what I said about lung cancer? Chandler, don’t pin the blame on us, you chose to smoke!”

Exasperated, Chandler groaned. “Fine. I’m putting it out.” He threw the cigarette into Phoebe’s coffee, much to her dismay. 

“Alright,” Monica said, inching away from the group. “I gotta change—I’ve got a date soon.” You briefly remembered her mentioning that things hadn’t gone so well with Paul, so she was exploring the dating pool once again.

“Is this Alan again?” Rachel asked excitedly. “How’s it going?”

A smile spread across Monica’s features. “It’s going good! He’s nice.” 

“So when do we get to meet the guy?” asked Joey.

“Hm…” Monica tapped a finger against her lips. “Never. See you guys!”

“Come on!” the group exclaimed after her. 

“No!” she said. “Not after what happened with Steve!”

Snorting, Chandler shook his head. “What are you talking about? We loved Shteve. Shteve wash shexy!”

The rest of the group hid their laughter behind cups of coffee. 

“Look, I don’t even know how I feel about him yet. Just give me a chance to figure it out.”

“Then we can meet him?” asked Rachel, hopeful.

Monica grinned. “Nope! Bye, guys!” With that, she skipped out of the cafe. 

You drank the rest of your mocha, placing the mug onto the table and leaving a large tip for Rachel beneath the cup—you were honestly quite flattered that out of all the orders, she had gotten yours right. 

“I better get going, too.”

“What?” asked Joey. “Where are you going?”

“Uh…” You scratched the back of your neck. “Work.”

Ross arched a brow. “I thought you said you had the day off today. What’s going on?”

“Oh, my God!” Phoebe exclaimed. “You’re seeing someone!”

The group burst out into a dozen questions at once and you held your hands up. “Woah, woah! I’m not seeing someone, I just—” 

“Is it that waitress that gave you her number?” Joey interrupted, a bit less enthusiastic than everybody else. 

Heat crawled up your neck and festered into your face. “Yeah, but it’s not a date,” you sighed. “It’s just a casual meet up.”

“So… sex,” Chandler deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, sex. Don’t be such a child about it.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Rachel gasped, resting a hand on your arm. “And why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, a little whiny. 

“Around, uh, a week, I think? And I didn’t tell you because it just feels… I don’t know, embarrassing?”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to be embarrassed around us!”

Joey blanched. “A week? How many times have you guys done it?”

“Oh, God, Joey, I’m not going to tell you about my sex life. I’m running late already—I’ll see you guys later!”

With that, you practically dashed out of the cafe, heart beating irregularly quickly and cheeks set aflame.

“Do you all promise?” 

Ross rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mon, we promise we’ll be good.”

You nodded with a sweet smile in hopes of quelling her growing anxiety of letting her closest friends meet a guy she was dating. 

Not a second later, Phoebe stormed into Monica’s apartment, sitting down right beside you and showing you a letter from her bank. 

“Dear Ms. Buffay, thank you for calling attention to our error. We have credited your account five hundred dollars. We’re sorry for the inconvenience, and hope you’ll accept this football phone as our free gift.” She pulled out a large brown phone in the shape of, what do you know, a football, looking so cross you could’ve sworn steam was coming out of her ears. “Can you believe this? Now I have a thousand dollars and a football phone!”

Blinking in astonishment, Rachel snatched the letter from you, exclaiming, “What bank is this?”

The door rang, cutting any further questions about Phoebe’s strange bank off. 

“He’s here!” Rachel exclaimed, throwing the letter away somewhere behind her, clapping her hands excitedly.

Before Monica opened the door, she clasped her hands together and addressed the entire group. “Please be good. Please? Remember how much you like me and try not to make fun of him too much.”

“So?” Monica started, anxiously brushing dark strands of hair away from her face. “Let the Alan-bashing begin. Who’s gonna take the first shot?”

The group awkwardly glanced at each other, strangely silent. 

If you had to admit, you rather liked Alan. He was funny, charming, and had real pretty eyes.

“I’ll go,” said Ross. “Let’s start with the way he kept… ugh, no, I’m sorry, I can’t. Can’t do it! We loved him.”

The rest of them chimed in their agreement enthusiastically.

“Wait a minute, we’re talking about someone that I’m going out with?” Monica asked, incredulous.

“Know what was great? The way his smile was kind of crooked,” Joey sighed, dreamily looking off into space. 

With a scoff, you slapped his thigh. “Watch it, Joey. Wouldn’t want you catching feelings for Monica’s boyfriend here.”

“Jealous, much? Want me all to yourself?” he asked flirtatiously, leaning down closer to you. You wrinkled your nose and shoved him away.

The rest of the group began chattering about Alan again, and how he did the best impression of David Hasselhoff.

You turned back to Joey. “Both of us know you can’t stick to one person, Jo.” Your words were meant to be teasing and light-hearted, but you couldn’t help but notice the way Joey’s face fell just a bit at your words.

“I can stick to you,” he said, uncharacteristically softly, fingers threading between yours. “You’re a pretty sticky person, you know?”

“Har, har, har. That’s funny, Joey,” you crooned sarcastically. “Also really gross. Don’t call me sticky ever again.”

Joey smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You decided not to say anything about it, and turned your attention back to the group and listened to them fawn over Alan.

Back at Central Perk, you had just come out of the bathroom in time to hear the gang berating Chandler for smoking again, and you sat down between Ross and Joey on the large couch. 

“This is so unfair,” Chandler barked, blowing out white plumes of smoke. “So I have a flaw—big fucking deal! Like Joey’s constant knuckle-cracking isn’t annoying? Or Ross, with his over-pronouncing every goddamn word! And Monica, with that snort when she laughs! Or when Y/N refuses to get Chinese takeout because they use styrofoam containers and they hate the sound of styrofoam! I haven’t had Chinese takeout in months! I accept all of those flaws, why can’t you accept me for this?”

The entire group pursed their lips and dejectedly hung their heads in silence.

“You can just order Chinese takeout on your own,” you grumbled under your breath. “You don’t always have to have me there.”

“Yeah, well, then I’d feel bad!” replied Chandler, crossing his arms like a child. “I’d be chewing on my pork dumplings and thinking—man, I betrayed one of my closest friends for this.”

“Does the knuckle cracking bother everybody, or just him?” asked Joey, hands glued firmly to his sides, as if he had to consciously remind himself not to crack them. 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you faked a look of reassurance, before deadpanning, “We could live without it, Jo.”

“Is it just a little annoying? Or is it like when Phoebe chews her hair?”

As if on cue, Phoebe spat out locks of blonde that she was working between her teeth. You coughed to hide your growing smile. 

“Don’t listen to him, Pheebs, alright? I think it’s endearing,” said Ross.

Joey frowned, then spoke again, over-enunciating each word. “Oh, you do, do you?”

Monica snort-laughed, which made Chandler gesture erratically towards her. 

“There’s nothing wrong with speaking correctly!” Ross defended.

“Indeed, there isn’t!” Rachel proudly gesticulated, also poking fun at Ross with overstretched syllables. At Ross’ withering glare, she squeaked, “I should really get back to work!” 

“Otherwise, someone might get what they actually ordered,” Phoebe muttered quietly, but not quiet enough for Rachel not to hear.

The brunette’s jaw dropped. “Oh, so the hair comes out and the gloves come on!”

The entire group burst into a raucous argument, and you found yourself somehow defending and protesting against both Phoebe and Joey at the same time. From the corner of your eye, you could see Chandler get up and walk away with a skip in his step, and a lit cigarette in hand.

It was a little past two in the morning. You had barely thrown anything on except for a worn black hoodie and a pair of jeans that had holes in the pockets. But you just needed to leave—it felt like you couldn’t breathe in your own apartment.

A part of you considered going to Monica’s. 

But for some reason unbeknownst to you, you found yourself in front of Joey’s bedroom, having gotten through their front door with an emergency spare key they had given you. This wasn’t really an emergency, but you’ve used it for lesser reasons.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you knocked on the door.

A couple seconds later, a groggy Joey swung it open, dark hair messily strewn over his head. He was rubbing his fists into his eyes, muffling a yawn as he said, “Oh, hi, Y/N. You missed a lot this afternoon—Chandler quit smoking, Phoebe found a thumb in a can of soda and got seven thousand bucks for it, Monica broke up with Alan and I’m obviously devastated about it but—”

He immediately stopped in his brief recap of the day when he finally looked at you properly, noticing the way your eyes were puffy and red, as if you’d been crying. There were dried tear tracks on your cheeks, barely visible beneath the dim moonlight streaming through the window across the room. 

“Hey, hey,” his hands were on your shoulders instantly, roping you closer to him in a warm embrace. You buried your head into his chest, lips trembling as you staved away the burning urge to sob right into him. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Gently, he led you into his room, sitting you down on his bed. 

“I don’t even know… it’s not that big of a deal, I just… felt so overwhelmed,” you croaked, pulling your knees up to your chest. 

“What happened?” he asked, sitting down beside you and slinging a protective arm over your back. 

“You remember that waitress that I had a thing with?”

Joey hummed.

“Well, she’s married. And she’s got a kid. I didn’t know, obviously. I just… I don’t know. She told me while we were messing around, like—how fucked up is that? I mean, it’s bad enough that you’re using me to cheat on someone that you’ve got a kid with, but it’s even worse to bring that up while we were… doing it, you know? I told her to leave and she begged me to hear her out. She wouldn’t go, and got angry at me for some fucking reason, so I told her I’d leave the apartment and if she wasn’t gone by the time I got back I’d call the cops on her. I know it wasn’t really my fault but—I still feel terrible about it. I don’t want to be the reason a family falls apart, Joey.” 

You were shaking against him, and a stray tear meandered down your cheek. 

There wasn’t really much Joey could say. He was never very good at comforting people.

He pressed a kiss to your cold forehead, brushing away haphazard strands of hair. 

“You wanna stay over?” he offered, patting his bed. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Wordlessly, you pulled back his comforter and laid down, exhausted beyond relief. 

Joey patted your back one more time for good measure, before getting up to head to the living room.

“No,” you mumbled, hand loosely wrapping around his wrist. “Please stay here with me.”

Hesitant, he asked, “You sure?”

Joey never got a response—you had already fallen asleep. With a shrug, he slid into the bed beside you, winding his arms over you and cradling you from behind. His nose pressed into your shoulder and he inhaled sharply, noting with pleasant surprise that you smelled like blueberries. 

“Good night, Y/N.”

You shifted in his hold so that your arm laid over his that was thrown over your waist. 

Joey fell into an easy, dreamless sleep in no less than a minute.

#joey tribbiani x reader #friends fanfiction #joey tribbiani fanfiction #joey tribbiani fluff #joey tribbiani angst #joey tribbiani smut #rachel green x reader #rachel green angst #rachel green fluff #rachel green smut #joey tribbiani imagines #joey tribbiani drabbles #rachel green imagines #rachel green drabbles #friends x reader #friends joey x reader #friends rachel x reader

[faghubby]

Christmas Miracle

"Paulie come here" Morgan called from the bedroom. I stopped what I was doing and rush to her.

"I have decided to give you the best Christmas present ever" Morgan told me. "But first I want you to make yourself all girlie" she teased stepping close to me. She kissed my neck. I wasted no time first jumping in the shower to touch up any loose hairs I might have.

Morgan had helped me explore my submissive nature over the past two years. It had started as a game, but grew. I now exclusively wore not only panties but often a bra and stockings as well under my clothes. Morgan had tought me how to do my makeup and hair. Having me dress fully as a woman most weekends. Morgan and I had not had traditional sex in almost a year. Instead often lesbian sex. Using toys on each other and me orally pleasing her. On rare occasions she would stroke my dick. Morgan also cuckold me. But we didn't talk about it. As she put it, "it is none of your business what I do with men"

As I got out if the shower I found a red Christmas dress waiting for me. Along with sexy red lingerie. I got dressed. And did my makeup. I looked very sexy in my Christmas outfit I thought. Morgan was dressed in jeans and a long sleeve tee shirt when I found her. I towered over her in my 3 inch heels.

"You look perfect" Morgan smiled.

"Now, I decided for Christmas I am giving you freedom" she smiled. "No more hiding, I am going to help you introduce Paulina to the world." She told me. I was a bit worried.

"So we have an appointment to have our Christmas pictures taken. She grabbed her keys and led me to the car. I had been out dressed before but she drove to a local shop and made me go in. The photographer knew all about what she wanted posing us with me in the submissive role. Sitting with Morgan above me. Or playful where Morgan lifted me up. Morgan was happy with the pics. Not even letting me look. She chose one for a mass online card to everyone we knew.

"Paulina, come hit send" she told me. I hesitated.

"You know you want everyone to know, I think the family already suspects" Morgan told me. As I stood there the photographer reached under my dress. Startled I hit send.

"Do you want him" Morgan whispered in my ear. She didn't wait for an answer she pushed me to my knees. I had never sucked a real cock. Only Morgan's toys. I reached up and unzipped his pants. And pulled out his cock. Morgan stepped away as I took his cock in my mouth.

Meanwhile I heard my phone start digging like crazy. Morgan laughed

"OH everyone loves the pic baby. Even your mom" she told me.

"You seem to be enjoying Brad's cock baby" she said as I gagged on it. Just then he grabbed my head and pumped his load down my throat. I couldn't swallow fast enough gagging and coughing spitting his cum all over myself.

"Paulina you need to learn to swallow" Morgan said. She pushed me back to his cock. "Clean him up at least" I licked his softening cock and balls clean. I felt ashamed of what I had done as I stood up.

"Don't worry baby, I will find you lots of cocks to suck" Morgan told me. I was rock hard in my panties it showed thru the tight dress.

"Someone really liked sucking cock" Morgan giggled as Brad zipped up his pants and unlocked the door. I had not even realized he had locked it. Morgan led me out with cum still on my dress and my dick rock hard bulging my dress. Morgan read me my messages as I drove home.

"Your boss said you look pretty" she laughed. "Maybe you could work out a way to get a raise"

"John, says he can't wait to fuck me again" Morgan commented about my cousin

"Your mom said she loves the dress, wants to know if you will be wearing it to Christmas dinner" Morgan kept answering the messages but didn't tell me what she replied.

"Wow, Joe (my best friend) has a big cock" she said showing me a dick pic he sent me. When we got home we saw our neighbor staring at us with disgust.

"Go get the mail" Morgan told me. I walked to the end of the driveway. When I came inside. Morgan was stripped down to just her plain white panties.

"You where so naughty. Sucking Brad's cock" she told me. She picked up a leather strap.

'What is that for?" I said my voice shaking.

"Call Joe, ask him to come over and fuck you" she told me. She wrapped the leather strap gently around my neck.

"call Joe, if you don't want to let him fuck you, ask him to come fuck me" she told me. I picked up my phone.

"Hey sissy" Joe said as he answered.

"Joe, um you have a nice cock" I stuttered. Why did I say that?

"well thank you" he laughed.

"Would you like to come over?" I asked softly

"Be there soon" he said and hung up.

"You didn't ask him" Morgan said taking the leather strap.

"Bend over the couch with you panties pulled down" she ordered me. We had never even spoken about this. But I did as she said.

SMACK the strap stung my ass. I jumped.

"Don't move" Morgan said as a second blow hit.

"Want another or are you ready to admit what you are to the world" she asked. I didn't want another that was for sure. She squirted lube in my ass.

"when Joe gets here tell him what you did with Brad and ask him to help you do better" she told me. She shoved a large plug in my ass. She had me kneel by the front door and wait. Joe knocked a few minutes later I just said come in.

"Don't you look hot" Joe said.

"I tried to suck a cock today, but couldn't swallow. Will you help me?" I said. He dropped his pants he wore no underwear. I took him in my mouth.

"OH yes, suck my cock, you can suck it everyday if you want to" he told me.

"Hello, Morgan" Joe said I went to turn my head but Joe help my head on his cock.

"Your wife is so hot" Joe told me. As I continued to suck his cock. Morgan came up behind me and pushed on the plug in my ass. I moaned around Joe's cock.

"Like this Morgan said taking Joe's cock and sucking on it then put it back in my mouth. And his balls sweety. Lick and suck his balls. I did as she instructed. She then whispered in my ear.

"Joe will you please Fuck Morgan for me, she needs a man to fuck her" I pleaded. Morgan kissed my cheek and stood. joe carried her to our room and locked the door. I sat and listened to then fuck. Morgan moaned and cried out several times. As I heard Joe grunting.

The door opened suddenly and Joe appeared. His cock hanging soft. He waited a moment. Without a word I licked him clean tasting both his and Morgan's juices.

"You are a bitch now" Joe told me. As he went to gather his clothes from the front hall. I found Morgan in bed.naked her pussy red and swollen with Joe's seed leaking from it.

"Do you want to clean me? She asked. I just buried my head between her thighs without a word.

"You can never go back, everyone knows" Morgan reminded me. As she had me clean out all my male clothes from my closet.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i have a request!

maybe one where steve knows he's bisexual before eddie but ofc, eddie thinks he's straight and doesn't think he has a chance, so he just takes whatever he can get with steve's friendship even though he has the biggest crush on steve and vice versa. but when eddie does find out about both, eddie would be internally screaming bc he could have been in a relationship with him and kissing steve ages ago.

i just love gay disaster eddie and confident bisexual steve haha

THANK YOU FOR THIS!!! This one could genuinely be a multi-chapter fic, so if someone has the time, I would love LOVE LOVE to read that. For now, here's a taste of something that kind of checks all the boxes mentioned but at superspeed. If I could write a 20k fic on it, it probably would have A LOT more pining first. I'm a sucker for pining. I hope you love this little thing! - Mickala ❤️

------------------------------------------------------------

Steve was giving off vibes, okay?

Like, major ones.

And Eddie was convinced he was imagining it or just trying to convince himself that something existed where it didn’t to make his chances higher.

When Robin came out, a small part of him believed that Steve had to be at least a little queer. Men didn’t just accept being turned down by someone they liked when they turned out to be a big old lesbian.

But when he casually asked Robin if Steve had ever been so inclined towards the same sex, she laughed hysterically and said Steve was as straight as they came, that she’d never met anyone as straight as him, and that she’d probably end up with a man before he did.

So he let it go.

But then he said stuff sometimes about actors or singers that just left Eddie’s brain a big pile of question marks.

Maybe Eddie just didn’t know how straight dudes talked about other dudes?

So he let that go too.

And then Steve was genuinely checking out a guy at the public pool. There was no other explanation for the way his eyes focused in on his ass and worked their way up his body, a nod of silent approval hidden to all but Eddie.

But he did the same exact thing to Robin when she came out of the changing room, and while he knew he had feelings for her a while ago, they were long gone.

“What was that all about?” Eddie gave in and asked when everyone else started walking to the steps to get in.

“What?”

“Checking Robin out.”

“What the hell? I wasn’t checking her out! I was making sure her bathing suit fit right. One of the things they taught in lifeguard classes was that a too big or too small bathing suit can kill you.”

“So you were just making sure it fit?”

“Yeah. I don’t want her to drown.”

Eddie sighed.

But he let it go.

He stopped hoping for the chance to be more than friends. He was fine with just being friends. More than fine. Great.

He got to enjoy having Steve as a friend.

He didn’t half ass anything.

If he said he was gonna hang out, he was ready to commit the entire day to making sure you had his attention.

If he had everyone over at his house for movie night, he had everyone’s favorite snacks ready to go.

If he was gonna join Eddie at the quarry and smoke and look at the stars, he was gonna do it while making Eddie fall in love with him.

It wasn’t fair.

But he tried to let it go.

It was one of those nights that he found out he didn’t have to let it go.

“You ever just wonder how you could have ever thought you were a different person?”

What? Okay, Steve was high. Past the silly kind and right into the too existential to make sense kind.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re sayin’, man.”

Steve giggled.

God, Eddie was fucking done for.

“It’s just that I thought I was straight for 17 years of my life. And then spent another two years trying to convince myself that I couldn’t be anything but straight. And then life smacked me with Robin and now you and it didn’t really leave me much room to argue.”

“What are you saying?”

“I mean, I’ve had a crush on you since. Well, definitely since you held a bottle to my throat, but probably before that. Like, way before that. Maybe your first senior year.”

Steve was high. He didn’t mean what he was saying, and even if somehow he did, it wasn’t fair to hold him to it. Being high was sometimes like being drunk: the words may be true, but the feelings may not stick around.

So Eddie took a deep breath, bit back the tears he could feel clinging to his eyes and the burn in his throat, and forced himself to change the subject.

It wasn’t fair, but when Steve let him change the subject easily, he let it go.

————-

It took three weeks for him to break.

He was with Steve at his house, waiting for the kids to show up for movie night. Steve was busy preparing homemade pizza because he thrived on being able to cook for everyone.

Eddie loved him so much.

He was staring. He knew he was.

But how could he not when Steve was in that stupid “Number One Dad” apron that Max got him last Christmas as a joke, but he’d sniffled and said thank you like it was the best gift he got in the world?

Steve was humming something, sliding the last pizza into the oven (pineapple and ham for El, Will, and Mike), when it all seemed to hit him.

Steve had come out to him, had admitted out loud that he wasn’t straight and that he’d had a crush on him for a long time.

Sure, he was high when he did, but he’d been high with Eddie lots of times and never given away any top secret personal information like that.

He’d wanted Eddie to make a move.

He was so stupid.

He stood abruptly, nearly banging his knee against the bar in the kitchen.

Steve looked over at him, brows furrowed in concern, lips pouting out unintentionally.

Eddie stalked over to him, not bothering to explain his theatrics. At this point, Steve should be used to them.

He stopped right in front of him, looking down at the suddenly nervous way Steve was holding himself.

He wasn’t letting it go this time.

He sure as shit wasn’t running. He didn’t do that anymore.

“You remember the quarry?”

“Like, in general…or…?”

“A few weeks ago you said something at the quarry.”

“Oh.” Steve looked down at the floor between them. “Yeah. It’s okay that you don’t feel the same. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”

There was no fucking way Eddie was letting him think he didn’t want him back.

He gripped his cheeks in his hands, palms tilting his face up so he could look into his eyes.

Steve was biting his lip so hard, it looked like it could start bleeding any moment.

Eddie brought his thumb over, pulling his lip from his teeth.

“How can I kiss you if you’re too busy eating your lip?”

Steve’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“Stevie. Did you mean it then?”

“Yeah, ‘course I did. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“Then I need to ask a favor.”

“Anything.”

Eddie wouldn’t let that go to his head. Not yet.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve’s responding smile lit up the room, more than the overhead lights, more than the actual sunlight streaming through the window.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Eddie leaned in as Steve did, their lips meeting in a light peck that quickly deepened, moans escaping their mouths at the same moment.

He let his hands slide down to Steve’s neck, his thumbs rubbing small circles as his tongue begged for entrance into his mouth.

Steve was sinking further against him, his heartbeat steady against Eddie’s chest.

“It’s about damn time. Honestly, I was starting to think I’d have to make Steve come out to you again.”

Robin’s voice shocked them apart, but when they realized who it was, they managed to fall back into each other.

Eddie’s arm slipped around Steve’s waist as Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“The kids will be inside in about 20 seconds so if you would prefer they don’t know what’s going on, you should wipe those lovesick looks off your faces and find a bubble of personal space.”

Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head before pulling away.

“Talk when the kids leave?”

“Yeah. But first,” Steve pulled Eddie in for one more quick kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, he was smirking. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“I don’t plan on letting you out of bed for the next 24 hours after the kids leave. We’ll at least get a good start on the catching up.”

Eddie threw a wink at Steve, ignoring Robin’s gagging noises, and sat back at the bar.

The kids came running in, circling Steve to hug him or ask him what dinner was and Eddie smiled to himself.

Robin nudged him after a few seconds.

“You’re both so hopeless.”

“Not anymore.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #coming out is sort of accidental but not really #like steve is high when he says it but would have told eddie anyway #mutual pining though this is all from eddie's POV #which is weird for me so hopefully it's okay #anon requests #requests #ficlet

[h-33-s-3-ung]

Cold as ice

MDNI

Summary: you attend Sunghoon’s ice skating practice in which he performs with another woman. You can’t help but feel jealous of how close they get and you let him know of your jealousy. Sunghoon, on the other hand, want’s to prove only you matter to his eyes.

Word count: ≈1150

Warnings: jealousy, crying, make up sex, praising, use of the word bitch, cum swallowing, cumming on reader’s face, nicknames, use of toys (vibrator).

-3:54 pm-

You arrive at sunghoons ice skating practice a little earlier than usual, hoping your dear boyfriend wasn’t already on the rink skating as if his life depended on it.

Sadly, he was, so you couldn’t greet him before he spent hours practicing for his contest. You knew he was nervous for this contest as it would define if he could participate in a worldwide competition, and you wanted him to follow his dream career. So, You just sat there as you admired his hypnotizing silhouette that moved so gracefully.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice another skater, a female, hoping on the rink.

"I’m sure she’s not his partner… he didn’t tell me about her, I’m sure he would have told me if he did have one." You thought to yourself.

She then came in contact with your sweet and elegant boyfriend, nudging him playfully. Your slight smile faded instantly.

"Oh don’t tell me she’s a flirty bitch trying to get her dirty hands on my boyfriend." You growled under your breath.

They went on with their practice, being playful and smily the entire time. Their moves were sexy and sensual which just fuelled your rage and anger. You weren’t jealous, no, you were furious. "

Why would SHE be his partner and why didn’t HE tell me about her?" You thought.

It seemed like you tried reasoning with yourself for too long and before you knew, practice was over. Sunghoon and his partner got out of the rink and separated a few meters away from the entrance into separate changing rooms. You only told Sunghoon you would be there for 6pm, you didn’t tell him you would watch him skate for a little while, so he was confused when you seemed upset as he got in the car.

"Hey honey, are you okay? You seem angry." He asked innocently.

"I’m fine." You replied coldly.

"Did I do something wrong? Did I accidentally eat one of your snack at home? Did I take too much place in the bed last night? What’s wrong? Tell me." He continuously asked.

"You never told me you had a skating partner Park Sunghoon." You said.

"Honey, are you serious? You’re mad because of this?" He asked half mocking you.

You only glanced at him, eyes dark yet pretty humid from your tears that wanted to escape.

“Y/n, look, I forgot to tell you but she’s just that, a partner, I don’t like her. Plus she’s lesbian and has a girlfriend. No need to stress over her, okay?" He replied softly, wiping a tear that escaped your eye unexpectedly.

“Sure." You said, still upset.

You started driving. It was a short ride, about 5-10 minutes. But, since you two didn’t talk the entire time, it seemed endless. A few tears continued to spill out of your brown eyes and you wanted to stop, but you couldn’t.

6:15 pm

You inserted your key inside the lock, turned it clockwise and opened the door. Your key’s dropping to the floor instantly as you entered your cozy apartment.

“Babe, I just want you to stop being mad. Please." Sunghoon said with a slight sad expression on his face.

"Mhm" You muttered.

"Look, i might have something to cheer you up." He said seductively as he lifted your chin up.

You looked at him, your anger forgotten for a few seconds as it was replaced by confusion.

"Close your eyes." He said.

You covered your eyes with the palms of your hands and he guided you by the waist. You recognized you had entered your room, thanks to the carpet in the entrance.

"Okay, you’re going to sit down and don’t uncover your eyes until i tell you to. Okay?"

"Okay." You replied softly.

You heard him shuffling around in the wardrobe for a few seconds before you heard what sounded like a box.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now" He said with a smile.

You saw a small white box with a light pink ribbon bow on top of it. You knew what it was. Another toy.

"You got me another one?" You asked with a big smile on your face.

"Yes honey, it’s the one you showed me at the sex shop last week. I thought I would give it to you, I just didn’t know when… Ta-Da!" He exclaimed.

You couldn’t be mad at him anymore. He remembered the exact vibratory you wanted and he got it to you to make you happy. Isn’t he cute?

"I was wondering, because I made a mistake, and I want to be excused, can we test that vibrator?" He asked seductively.

Instead of replying, you got up and attached your lips to his.

Your anger was far behind you. All you could think about was the pleasure you were about to experience.

"Take off your shirt."

You did as he asked.

"Now your pants"

You obeyed.

You were standing there half naked with only your matching red lingerie set he got you a few months ago.

"Damn. You look amazing baby. It’s almost like you knew I would want to fuck you today." He said as he bit his bottom lip.

"Just my intuition, Ice prince." You said softly against his ear.

He moaned in response. He pushed you on the mattress and soon, your lingerie set and all of your boyfriend’s clothes had magically disappeared.

"Can I go in? Princess?" He asked.

"Do it." You ordered him.

That being said he inserted himself. His long dick caressing your g spot already making you moan sensually. The toy he has just gotten for you was tightly wrapped in your right hand which he had pinned over your head to get a better view of your face.

"Wanna try the toy now?" He asked between moans.

"Yes~ please hoon." You moaned.

He yanked the toy out of your hand, turned it on and placed it right on your clitoris. It was such an intense sensation that your moans became 2x louder than before. Making your boyfriend cover your mouth with his large elegant hand as he was afraid he would get a noise complaint.

"You like that don’t you huh?"

You didn’t even have time to answer that you had came all over Sunghoon’s cock. Your walls tightened around him and he had to pull out.

"I want to cum on your face." He said jerking off rapidly.

You got up on your elbows and stuck your tongue out. A perfect view and target for sunghoon to cum on.

"I’m cumming~ Aah…Fuck." He growled as he came all over the bottom half of your face.

When he was done, you looked at him straight in the eyes, closed your mouth, swallowed and opened it back up to show him you swallowed his load.

"Good girl." He said as he patted your head and gave you a forehead kiss.

"I’m sorry I got jealous over that girl earlier. I hope you can forgive me." You said in a cute tone.

"Of course I forgive you. We fucked! It’s the best way of making up in my opinion." He said smiling widely.

"I love you my ice prince."

"I love you too my princess."

He pulled you in a warm and tight hug and you both fell asleep in that same position.

I Hope you like that story!☺️ I have a few ideas for the other members and I will go in the order of the most to least popular in my last poll.

A hint for the next story: it will involve jay😉.

See you soon!❤️

#enhypen x reader smut #Enhypen smut #Enhypen sunghoon #Enhypen sunghoon smut #smut #h 33 s 3 ung

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve Harrington x Past Tommy headcanon, Steddie being the future (this isn't me trying to make an excuse for Tommy, but I'm just trying to fill in the blanks the Duffle bags left us with):

Don't get me wrong, I love it where Eddie is Steve’s queer awakening and all, but it's definitely used a lot. Not a complaint, just stating a fact. Come on, there definitely wasn't anything straight about his relationship with Tommy, and Carol was definitely Tommy's beard. At least, I think that Carol is Tommy's beard and a lesbian. Am I like the only one who thought they weren't that bad? I mean, yeah, they were assholes but to be fair, every teenager is one. I was a good kid who didn't make my dad worry so much, but even I could be such an asshole sometimes. The theater thing was over the line, but I can imagine they did that because they probably witnessed Steve crying. They're probably one of the only ones who saw Steve cry, and I think we probably would have gone to war if we saw Steve cry. And I think Tommy probably did it out of guilt.

I think Steve was with Tommy once, and maybe he thinks Tommy was a special case. Maybe he had hoped that Tommy would stop being an asshole and that's why it didn't work. Maybe that's why Tommy basically called him a coward. Maybe he walked away from Tommy more than once. I mean, he did get onto Tommy when he said something shitty. Why do people think that he didn't try to ever stop Tommy? He never joined in on when they talked shit. He got onto Tommy for saying shit about Jonathan. I think the theater was the only time he didn't ever try, and the only time he talked shit about Jonathan was because he was angry and hurt. Shit, maybe he wasn't just thinking about his parents when he saw Nancy with Jonathan? Maybe he was thinking about that time he walked in on Tommy having sex with Carol because they were trying to see if they were interested in the opposite sex. They weren't, but Steve didn't know that because he walked away. He also stayed because Tommy was his oldest friend. He walked away for the last time, and Tommy, heartbroken, befriended Billy, hoping to make Steve jealous.

Steve didn't tell Robin, not only because it hurt too much, because it wasn't just his secret to tell. He didn't think he could ever fall for another guy again. He knows he's attracted to them, but he didn't think he could love another one until Eddie came along. And when Eddie was lying prone in the hospital, Steve brought Robin to the bathroom and told her everything. She was another person who saw him cry.

I don't know. People don't give Steve enough credit for walking from Tommy and Carol. I mean, just because they were assholes, their friendship doesn't mean anything. . .it doesn't mean anything that Steve walked away from a shitty situation? Most adults can't do what Steve did. Just the facts.

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things s1 #steve harrington #steve harrington s1 #tommy hagan stranger things #tommy h #past steve x tommy #stommy #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual awareness #platonic stobin #steddie #pre steddie #eddie munson #eddie munson lives #steve x eddie #stranger things headcanon

[pillarsalt]

Any advice for women questioning if they might be bi?

This is an interesting question that I'm not quite sure how to answer. I thought I might tell you what my own experience in figuring out my sexuality was like, but I might have a bit of a weird story since understanding my attraction to men was actually more difficult than my attraction to women. This is stupid long and a bit navel gazey (walking down memory lane since I'm currently staying at my mom's place in my hometown). If you want to skip to the TLDR section at the bottom, I put the advice that came to me while writing this there. I hope it helps a bit, but if not, maybe others might want to add their own advice for anon in the replies?

I grew up in a smaller Alberta city that leaned conservative, but I was lucky enough to have open-minded and accepting parents who were pro gay rights. I went to catholic school (for french immersion lol), and before I even had the awareness that same sex attracted people existed, my elementary school friend group ostracized me, they said they thought I was a lesbian because I liked dinosaurs and roughhousing too much.

I was very confused until I was about 12 and learned that women could indeed be attracted to and have relationships with other women; that's when the understanding hit that there was a reason I felt differently about certain girls than I did about my other girl friends. Why I loved to sit next to them and stare at each individual feature of their faces when they talked, why I treasured the chihuahua webkinz Cristina from the bus gave me for christmas so much (I bought her a pack of lip smacker lip balm, this is so nostalgic lol), why I often gave Julia from my soccer team a playful shove if only to touch her for just a second. Now I knew what I was feeling. The problem was, aren't girls supposed to like boys? My peers would talk about how hot this one was and how they wanted that one's number; I just didn't get it. Boys were all just kind of weird and gross and scary to me.

In the next couple years I read more about lesbian gay and bisexual history and culture, learned that it wasn't wrong for me to love women but that many people wouldn't accept that. In high school (catholic high school!), if people asked, I answered truthfully, and it didn't make me popular. This is basically the reason I absolutely hate the word Queer; I had that word spat at the back of my head in the hallways by the grease ape hockey players who joked about "drinking beers and hitting queers". I had my share of crushes but didn't dare act on them. It frankly sucked, but I still made some friends.

(Funny tangent here: I had made a couple of new friends who were kind of in the 'cool bad girls' clique but didn't know my reputation. At lunch one day they stole my phone and as a prank they texted my mom "I have something to tell you... I like women" and she answered "you already told me that??" LMAOOO my mom felt so bad but like I told her, how was she supposed to know? anyway those girls didn't hang out with me much after that.)

Later on, I tried harder to fit in at school. I wore a lot of makeup and had a boyfriend for a couple months, which only confused me further. He asked me out and he was considered desirable and he was nice and didn't make fun of me, so I said yes. I used to set an alarm on my phone when I was at his place and pretended my mom was calling me and I had to leave. That scene at the start of But I'm a Cheerleader where Megan is just sitting there letting her boyfriend make out with her while she waits for it to be over, it really resonated with me when I watched it the first time lol. When he started hinting he wanted to have sex and put my hand on his boner through his pants, I couldn't take it anymore and ended it. I began to think I just wasn't into men at all. I kind of ignored them after that.

After a tumultuous almost-relationship with another girl who got then scared into claiming she was straight again by the homophobia at school and her religious mother (and then we weren't allowed to be each other's grad partners even as platonic friends), I had my first girlfriend after I graduated high school (we're still friends although she's fully into the theythem sphere now). She moved to another province and I discovered I'm not the type of person who can handle long distance relationships, so that was the end of that.

Finally in college, where people usually have their same-sex experimentation phase, I instead discovered that I am indeed attracted to men, I guess it just took me a while to find the ones who did it for me. A coworker turned close friend turned FWB turned long-term boyfriend confirmed that for sure. It was a whirlwind of self discovery but I was glad to have finally figured out what I was questioning for so long. So at the age of 19, I became as sure as I am now that I am not gay, not straight, but bisexual. I don't know if the kinsey scale thing is bullshit or not but I'd say I sit at about a 4. Things sort of fell into place for me eventually, which I think was lucky for me and I'm grateful for it.

TLDR SECTION:

I knew I was attracted to women from my early teens on, didn't figure out if I liked men until college years.

So if you're still with me, that's why I don't exactly know what advice to give you. Honestly, I wrote all of that mostly hoping you might find something relatable in there to build off of. Basically, are you romantically attracted to women, do you want to hold her hands, kiss her deeply, spend all your time with her, be filled with joy when you hear the beautiful sound of her voice, hold her closely until you fall asleep together? and Are you sexually attracted to women, is there a longing in you when you think about touching her body, her breasts, her stomach, her lips, her thighs, her vulva, the sensation of her touching you too? If it's yes to all of the above... yeah you're probably attracted to women.

But if it's yes to only one subset or another, here's the thing: I've seen a ton of straight people online and in my personal life claim they're bi because they're able to tell which individuals of their own sex are conventionally attractive or not. I posted a while ago about my straight male coworker who said "I think the guitarist in my favourite band is hot so I guess I might be queer?" and my other coworkers who immediately jumped in like YES YOU'RE QUEER YOU'RE SO QUEER leaving me like... okay but would you kiss him? Have sex with him? Fall in love with him? Again that's not necessarily your case, just that the lines have been seriously blurred when it comes to sexuality, between this sort of "everyone can be queer" thing and also the ubiquity and oversaturation of porn. Porn warps the shit out of all your mental processes but especially arousal and romantic and sexual bonding. This is how we get those women who talk about how they would fuck women but never have a romantic relationship with her. Porn culture warps their minds into viewing other women as objects from which to derive sexual pleasure, even if their natural orientation is heterosexual.

I guess my number one advice is that if you want to try romance and intimacy with a woman, MAKE SURE you are upfront with the fact that you're questioning your sexuality. There's no shame in questioning, of course. But another user and I were just talking about the large number of curious straight women who go on dating apps and waste the time and crush the spirits of gay and bi women who are just looking for love, not looking to be a litmus test or an experiment. I'm sure there are women out there who would be happy to explore your attraction with you, but also be on the lookout for people looking to take advantage of you and ABSOLUTELY run the other way if it's a het couple looking for a third, holy fuck don't even give those crusties the time of day.

Another piece of advice for you is that no two women are the same. Being attracted to women doesn't mean you'll be attracted to EVERY woman. This is why I'm wary of the types who say "I'm attracted to all women and only some specific men" like that sounds fake as fuck. Bi and gay woman have types and preferences just like straight women do.

All you can really do is keep thinking on it, keep exploring your feelings. It could help to talk it out with other lesbian or bisexual women in your life if you're lucky enough to have them. I wish you the very best but don't stress too much over it either. There's no rush, take your time, be well.

#ask #bisexuality