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satoruwiki · 3 months

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𓆩♡𓆪 SO NEEDY! ࿐࿔

MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DNI!!

content: needy!reader; afab!reader; fem!reader; nsfw; smut; porn with little to no plot; drabble? i tried, ended up being a oneshot; scenario w jjk men; dry humping; p in v sex; riding

w.c: 1k

n/a: i was really horny when i wrote this so i had to take a cold shower afterwards lmfao. silly scenario, lwk a headcanon too. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

...

"How was work?" Your boyfriend asks you as you get back home from work. You sigh heavily, 'it was absolute hell and draining. I wish I could quit,' you think. "It was okay," you say, lazily dragging your feet towards the couch.

Right now, you want nothing but to be wrapped in your boyfriend's arms and think about nothing. No slacking coworkers, insufferable managers, just you and him. You join your partner on the couch, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck instead of sitting beside him, and he lets you.

He can tell how drained you are. Your eyes are drowsy, your breathing heavy and slow, you look like you are about to fall asleep by the way you are snuggling your head into the crook of his neck, your soft breaths hitting his skin. "Tough day, huh?" he murmurs, a hand gently caressing your hair and playing with a few strands out of place while the other rubs your lower back.

You hum a soft 'mhm' and nod, inhaling the scent of his shampoo on his hair and the faint smell of his cologne, one you gifted him on his birthday.

Perhaps he didn't notice. Or maybe he did but chose to say nothing. But you did feel your clothed cunt pressed over where his cock was, a sudden arousal and need rushing through your veins as you cuddled him. You bit your lip, how long had it been since you had intimacy?

It was strange, considering how active your sex life used to be. However, due to a slight change in your work hours, his schedule and yours were not always matching. It was hard to have a moment with him that was not cut short. You'd often had to recur to your fingers to find some sort of release to satisfy your needs. Which were not always enough.

Your pussy started to throb, and you grew anxious. You were not one to start things out, it was usually him. Was it perhaps the stress from work that spiked your sexual frustration up to its breaking point?

You subtly started seeking friction for some relief, making it seem you were looking to get more comfortable on his lap. Of course, it ended up seeming strange the way your hips rolled and could not keep yourself still.

“What’re you doing?” He asks bemused. "I thought you were tired," he teases, his hand travelling from the small of your back to slip under your leggings, groping the bare skin of your ass.

"I'm sorry, I just-" you gasped, his hand squeezing the plush of your ass. He couldn't see the flustered look you had on because of being caught—not that you were 'very' subtle about it—trying to dry-hump him. But he could see the reddened tips of your ears from the corner of his eye and hear your small whimpers along with your breaths heavying the more you pressed yourself against him.

"You need to relieve some stress, is that it?" He murmured, a sly smirk tugging the corner of his lips. He liked seeing this new side of you, so needy and aching for him that you couldn't keep your hands to yourself, not even after a long and tiring day of work.

You nodded again with a small whimper leaving your lips, grinding your pulsing cunt with need against his hardened bulge. "P-please, I need you," you sputtered, one of your hands trailing down to the elastic of his sweatpants, trying to tug it down.

Your boyfriend quietly groaned, dropping soft kisses on your neck, nipping at the skin as his hands helped you to get rid of the clothes that stood between your pussy and him until the slick of your bare dripping cunt damped his sweatpants.

"You look so pretty when you're so in need of my cock filling you up, love," he whispered, his voice deep and filled with lust. He tugged his sweatpants down enough for his cock to spring out, hitting his abdomen and leaking in precum. He gave himself a few languid pumps, his tearing tip teasing your folds and grazing ever so slightly on your swollen clit. "How bad do you need me to stuff you full of my dick, baby?" He asked, his hand coming forward to gently stimulate your neglected bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb.

"Bad, really bad," You answered quickly, your voice wavering and desperate. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your eyes pleading him to have mercy and give you what you yearned so much for. "Please," you breathed, angling your hips to align your entrance to his cock.

"Please what? Use your words, princess," he said, teasing you by gliding his tip between your pussylips.

You let out a shaky breath, his taunting sending shivers throughout your body and your heart racing. "Please, fuck me," you whined, leaning forward to press soft kisses along his jawline down to his neck, trying to coax him into stretching your needy cunny with his shaft.

Your boyfriend let out a guttural groan, leaning his head back as you sucked on the skin, giving you more space where to mark him as yours, marks he'd wear with pride the next day. "Fuck, baby, you don't know what you're doing to me," he grunted.

"So, is that a yes?" You asked impatiently, biting your lip in anticipation. He didn't have to answer, his cock did the job by easing its way inside your warm walls until he was fully sheathed inside you, gaining a moan of relief from you. You held on to his shoulders to steady yourself and wasted no time, bucking your hips at a deep pace, already chasing your so-needed release.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you whimpered, your eyes brimmed with tears of pleasure as you bounced on his cock, lewd and loud squelches of your wet pussy filling out the room. "Anytime, sweetheart," he hissed, his lips pressed on your ear, grunting as he met your thrusts pistoning his cock in and out of your cunt.

TOJI, SUGURU, CHOSO, HIROMI, NANAMI

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joelsgreys · 4 days

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flutter

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner.

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair.

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?”

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten.

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home.

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains.

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #fic: snapshots

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shoyoist · 5 months

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── 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : hinata shoyo.

content: fem!reader. public sεx in the back booth of a cafe. dirty thoughts, teasing, fingering, a little overstimulation, shoyo is a liiittle mean but he's just so eager to have you!! mentioned pussy eating at the end.

— . ｡˚ ♡ you just can't wait to have shoyo's fingers in you. and neither can he.

one of the first things you notice about hinata when you meet up with him after his years away in brazil, is that his hands are big.

he'd already been growing taller and filling out when he left — but that was nearly three years ago, and seeing him for the first time after so long felt like a dream — because despite looking the same, he also looked just that different. it wasn't just his hands, really — he was big.

his neck was thicker, the expanse between his shoulder and neck offering much more space for your arms than it used to, as you wrapped them around his neck in a hug. his arms, his chest, his stomach, as they press against yours in the embrace, they feel bigger, more muscular than you remembered.

but what you notice the most, what would be a subtle change compared to everything else — is that his hands are so big. maybe because you hadn't seen his hands properly in any of the pictures he'd sent you, but it was the most surprising change about him.

his fingers that just used to be long and lithe, are now thicker — knuckles tough and edges calloused, the backs of them rosy and tanned and the palms hard and smooth, pink at the rounder points.

and as he holds your hands in his, gives you a smile that pours love and longing and happiness and tender adoration into you as he tells you, “hi, baby. i missed you.” — all you can think about is that you want your pussy stuffed with those fingers of his.

and eventually — because he is after all, your beloved shoyo that would do anything for you — you tell him.

hand in hand, walking the distance from your place to the café you used to frequent together, you tell him that his hands are so nice.

his fingers are so thick (“look! see how big they are compared to mine?”) and then while you're talking to each other over cups of coffee, you finally tell him — albeit slyly and mostly as a tease, you admit that you want his fingers in your cunt.

what you don't expect is for him to immediately oblige.

you're sitting together at the very last booth of the small, cozy little cafe, away from all the windows and concealed from clear view — and you'd thought it'd be cute to fluster him with a dirty little comment, and get him hooked for when you both get home.

but when you tell him, “they'd feel so nice curling deep into my pussy, don't you think?” hinata stares at you for only a few seconds — before he has you pressed against the back of the booth, one legged hooked over his knees and the other dangling over the edge of the seat as he forces your legs open.

“mhm,” he giggles at your wide eyed, stunned expression, wrapping a muscled arm around you and adjusting your position so effortlessly, as his other hand slides past the waistband of your skirt to palm at your clothed cunt. “let's see how it feels, then. oh — pretty pussy's wet already, huh? missed me much?”

you're too dazed by the contact and the delicious feel of his touch on your clit to form words and tell him yes, yes yes you missed him so fucking much, more than he knows — but you think you missed him more than even you know.

his eyes are brighter than you remember as well, you see as you blink up to meet his gaze—

his body language, his confidence, it's so different compared to how he was before.

you'd only gotten together in your third year of highschool, and really you'd only fucked once before he left for brazil — but you'd loved him long enough to know.

this isn't the same hinata that you kissed good-bye at that train station years ago.

correction: he is the same — but he's also more.

you stare, stars in your eyes — and he gives you a handsome, rogueish grin as he slips two digits under your panties and into the slick mess of your hole, like he knows every single thing he's doing to you right now.

to your body, to your mind, to your soul.

it's overwhelming enough, to have the love of your life return home to you after more than two years of being so, so far away from you.

overwhelming enough to see that he has changed so very much, to see that suddenly the sunny, sweet boy you'd fallen in love with has become a fire, a hot searing flame that's ready to sweep you off your feet and singe you, burn you with his kisses and his touch.

but right now, you can't even think clearly about it all — because fuck, fuck, fuck, he's sliding his fingers into you, and it feels even better than you thought it would.

“sh—shoyo,” you whimper, cheek pressed to his chest as he shields your body with his, just in case. “wait, wait — didn't mean right now, i—”

“hush,” he hums into your ear, thumb gliding up to find your clit, and when he presses into the sensitive bud, you can only obey and hush — pressing your lips shut tight to prevent the gasp of pleasure that builds in your throat from getting away.

the café had been pretty quiet and peaceful when you'd both walked inside, and even as you ordered from the counter and brought your trays to the back booth — but suddenly, you're so afraid that people might come and see. afraid that a waiter might come over and see.

“sho—” you try, but he shushes you again, and you feel so hot, it's all so sudden you can't think.

“couldn't wait, sunshine, 'm sorry.” he mumbles into your hair, pulling you even closer, and you feel a little cramped as he tugs your legs even further apart, fingers sliding knuckle-deep into you. “was thinking things the whole time, you're so gorgeous now, can't wait when you're so hot.”

“i—” you whimper again, grabbing his shirt and curling it in your fist. “me too, shoyo, me too.” there's an impatience in the both of you that was hardly satiable when kept apart from eachother, but now, with the two of you like this, there's no way to keep it at bay.

the stretch of his fingers in your cunt is impossible. so much compared to your own fingers, so hot and hungry compared to the toys you use (ones he'd bought and sent home to you during his time in brazil).

he fucks his digits into you like he's been dying to do this to you, like he's desperate to hear those pretty sounds you make in his ear again, like he's been thirsting to make you cum like this forever.

you're going to hit your orgasm so quick, you can already feel it.

you're going to cum slumped in the back booth of this little café, that you'd visited so long ago on your first date with hinata. this little café where you'd first kissed him. this little café where you'd had a valentine's day brunch with him, just two months before he left.

“shoyo,” you can't help the moan that slips out, pussy only clenching around harder his digits when you see the way his eyes cloud with lust upon hearing your voice. “shoyo, shoyo — gonna cum.”

you hope nobody hears you — and you hope that if they did, they'll stay the fuck away and mind their own business, and let hinata take care of you.

you need it. he's so warm, so hot, and he's fucking you so good with just his fingers — thumb rolling your clit just fucking right while he curls his fingers into your velvet walls, giggling under his breath when your pussy squelches messily each time.

“that's right, baby,” he coos, kissing your hair. “cum for me. nice and hard, mkay? else we might hafta try again.”

his voice cracks so well at just the right moment as he says it — and you don't know if it's the zap of need that courses through you at the sound of his voice breaking, or if it's just the bliss he's giving you with his fingers that makes you cum instantly, but you do.

your pussy wraps around his fingers so tight — your own hand flying up to clamp over your mouth and muffle your cry, as your body finally unfreezes and you crash into your high.

knees knocking together and squeezing hinata's arm between your legs, you fall lax against the leather seating of the booth — cushioned by his body because he still has his other arm secured around you — and you cum. “fuck, shoyo.”

“that's good,” hinata encourages, his whisper hot in the shell of your ear. “fuck, so messy. so messy, baby, how do we clean you up?”

you can't help it — and he's making it worse, curling his fingers in, knuckles digging into your walls as he tries to go even deeper, never relieving the pressure he's out on your clit, god— “shoyo, fuck, fuck.” you’re afraid you might shatter into a million pieces right there on the damn seat. you haven’t had someone else touch you in a long time, and getting an orgasm ripped from you like this is almost too much. “sho—shoyo, please.”

“please, what?” he giggles, still unrelenting, like he’s missed having you like this, like he really can’t be a good boy and wait until you get back home before he eats you up and makes you his girl all over again, for the first time in years.

“not here,” you say breathlessly, gulping down the cry of pleasure that springs up your throat when he lets go of your clit for a moment, only to flick his thumb at the ravenous bud again. “not here, please. i can’t—”

“can’t what?” he asks, almost impatient. he bites at your ear, and you feel so fucking hot, so dizzy with pleasure, but you can’t. not in the back booth of a god damn café, where you could just be caught with MSbY’s newest outside hitter fitting his fingers into your starving little cunt.

you grab his wrist and tug, giving him the most serious look you can with all the stars in your eyes. “can’t be like this, shoyo. not here. please? wanna go home. want you in me. at home.”

his lips pull downwards into a disappointed pout, but he only presses his body closer to you, hot and heavy, his weight so new on you. “you promise t’ let me fuck you like this in your bed then?”

the fact that he can make you blush harder with a few words even as he’s got your pussy full of his fingers is astounding, really. but you feel your face heat up as you nod, telling him you promise. you need it more than him. you need him so, so fucking bad.

with a delighted laugh, shoyo pulls away, almost too quickly and you’re forced to stifle the needy whine you want to let out because you know he’ll be on you again in no time if you act like that. he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking on your slick, eyes dulling with lust as he gets a taste of you. “let’s go, then. we can have this date later.”

“wh—what about our food?” you can’t even ask before he’s getting up and pulling you to your feet. he gives you a quick kiss, and your eyes widen when you taste yourself on him. god, it’s almost embarrassing.

“i’ll pay for it now, we’ll tell them we’re coming back in a bit.” he grins at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you up against him. “i can think of something else i’d like to eat right now.”

by the glint in his eyes and the lingering taste in your mouth, you know exactly what he means the instant he says it. and you can’t help but blush again. god, he’s such a fucking charmer. “mm, alright. let’s go then.”

“that’s my girl.”

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA.#hinata smut #haikyuu smut #hinata shoyo smut #hinata x reader #haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hq smut #haikyuu!! smut #hinata headcanons #hinata drabbles #hinata shouyou smut #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #hq x you #haikyuu x you #hinata x you

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haruchuiyo · 1 year

Text

Not so discreet

satoru’s thighs looks so inviting and you want to sit on them really badly.

content: mat(u)re themes, self indulgent, thigh riding, light n(i)pple stimulation, f!reader, established marriage, names such as ‘sweet girl’, ‘sweet wife’ and ‘good girl’.

I’ve let this scenario marinate in my head for a looong time lmfao and it’s finally written, hope you enjoy this as much as I do hehe

—

It’s tough. Tough to only be able to look at the man in front of you, who’s sitting with his thighs spread while leaned into the couch, talking his friend and colleague Nanami.

It’s also killing you softly to only be able to look at his thighs. They look inviting and it doesn’t help the fact that he adjusts himself on the seat, completely oblivious to your very tough situation. You wanna sit on them, it’s excruciating not to be able to do that because you’re not on the confines of your home and his colleague is there.

You’re simply at his job cause he forgot his lunch box with only sweets in it, of course you would do the courtesy to bring it for him. It’s also gives you more opportunity to see your husband when he’s working. Just as you gave him his lunch box, Nanami entered the room and now you’re sitting somewhere else to not disturb their work talk.

You were still staring at his thighs when you hear him bid Nanami bye. You look up and his eyes meets yours. Then you see his pretty lips shape into his aggravatingly beautiful smile. That’s when you knew, he knows. He wasn’t oblivious after all.

“Are you really gonna sit there after staring at my thighs?” He muses amusedly and your eyes widens in surprise. Feeling embarrassed for simply looking, you let out an exhale.

“I thought I was discreet.” You mumble softly as you see him pat his thighs. Your heart pounds faster against your ribs and you feel a rush of excitement. Finally.

“Not that discreet, my sweet girl.” He says as he gently grasps onto your hand, helping you as you sit on his thighs, your knees digging into the back of the couch. As soon as you sit down, you let out a pure sigh of content while Satoru holds your hips.

His thighs below you feels so good, they’re so soft to the touch yet so firm. You adjust a little on him, a soft moan slips out from your mouth when you move against his thigh, which caused a friction up at your clit. You hear Gojo let out a soft groan at the sound you made.

“Sweet girl, this is what you wanted heh?” He teases softly, muttering by your ear. You shake your head his words as you unzip his sorcerer jacket while moving against his thighs once again and the friction is just too good, despite the layers of material between. Your head falls back as you moan again, fisting the material of his black sleeve on his chest.

“Of course not.” That’s a lie. You did want to sit on his thigh and ride them. Who wouldn’t, especially by how inviting and soft they look. The amount of times you’ve seen him trace his hands up and down down his thighs, as he talks to Nanami. The way he kept adjusting himself. And you already know what’s underneath all of this oversized clothing he’s wearing. Of course you wanted to ride him, you think as you feel up his abdomen, up to his pecs before moving towards his biceps below the sleeves of his jacket.

“Don’t lie to me, my sweet wife.” He says as he has a soft smirk on his lips. You caved in and let out a breath while sliding his jacket down his arms, revealing him in his black shirt.

“Yes, this is what I wanted.” You mumble as you stop grinding until you feel his hands tighten their hold on your hips.

“Take your pants off.” He says and you didn’t waste a second in obeying him. You hear him lightly chuckle in amusement and you swat his thigh for teasing you. After taking your pants off, leaving you only in your panties and a shirt, you go back to sit on his thigh and the rush through your body is better and you can feel his thigh even more. He places his hands on your hips again and he softly rocks you back and forth. You gasp as the pressure against your clit sent a rush throughout your body, while a proud smile lights up on your husbands lips.

“Good girl. Keep moving like that, yeah?” He says as you nod your head, biting your lower lip as you keep moving your hips over his thigh. You whimper softly when you feel his hands on your bare skin below your shirt. They trail up behind your back, you feel him unclasp your bra. Letting out a soft whine when you feel his hands nudge your tits and you gasp when he holds each breast in his hands. You feel him rubbing your nipple through the material and it’s maddening. You whimper out his name as you keep rocking your hips on his thighs at a slow speed.

He continues to fondle with your tits until you feel him pull your shirt up, revealing your chest, he pulls down your bra, making your breasts fall out and he doesn’t hesitate for a second to take your nipple in his mouth and suck on it.

His actions is sending a rush of stimulations throughout your entire body and you still riding his thigh, it’s all too much. You call out his name in a whimper.

“Yes, my sweet girl?” He mumbles against your tit. When he gives a certain lick to your nipple, you let out a soft sob. “It’s too much, ‘toru.” You softly cry out.

“You got this, hmm.” He coos at you before moving to your other tit to give it equal attention. You accelerate your hip movements and mewl when he bounced his thigh. The action startling but feeling so good you arch your back as you feel Satoru still licking on your tit. He does one lick then flickers the nipple with the tip of his tongue, before he sucks on it. The tingly feeling is all over in your body as you hump against his thigh and when he bounces his thigh once again, it sends you over the edge with trembling thighs and you come on him with a sweet little noise that Satoru loves to hear.

“Such good girl.” He gives your tit one last suck before he pulls away. He trails his hands up your back to grasp them through your hair. You’re still fisting his black shirt as he pulls you in for a breathless kiss. Your kiss is messy but so soft and lovely. He lightly pulls away and nibbles softly on your lower lip as you breathe through the aftermath of your orgasm. His lips move further down your jaw to to your pulse point, sucking softly there making you let out a pleased hum.

You trail your hands down his chest to his lap, feeling the bulge through his pants.

“Satoru, what about you?” You ask as you softly squeeze his bulge. Satoru lightly groans at the squeeze and his hold on your hair tightens. He gently pulls your head back to face him and places a kiss on your lips.

“Next time, sweet girl, okay.” He grins at you and you pout your lips at him. He flashes you a smile as he kisses you again, softly on your lips.

—

I need him to whisper “my sweet girl” deeply and huskily by my ear, it’s a need atp.

if you’ve come this far, a like and a reblog would be massively appreciated hehe <3

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celestialwhoree · 3 months

Text

Simon coming home to sleepy partner💤☁️

nsfw below the cut 🪽 mdni 🤍

Simon, more often than not, comes home late after getting back from deployments. seeing as after landing on home soil, they still have to mission debrief, collect and pack up their belongings and say their goodbyes, Simon is itching to get back home - back to you.

When he does, and you're all curled up in your shared bed, head resting on his pillow, one of his shirts clutched tight to your chest, sound asleep in his sweater, which had ridden up the arch of your spine to reveal thin cotton panties that have him straining at his boxers. It's when your eyes open at the sound of him dumping his bags, half lidded and lazy until you register his presence and spring up in the bed, running to meet him with tears of relief already pooling on your lower lashes. By no means does Simon Riley consider himself a needy man - in fact, quite the opposite, he's practised restraint his entire life. That said, after months away with nothing but his hand and some very private polaroids to sort himself out, he's desperate, already pushing you back until the backs of your knees are hitting the bedframe, collapsing underneath him with the thick comforter giving a whooshing exhale of air under the sudden addition of your bodyweight.

The latest deployment had been especially tough, stationed in some shithole with no cell service or access to a secure line. Soap had been fine, copping off with local women when he grew bored of his hand, Gaz had Simon fully convinced that he had some kind of erectile dysfunction with how long he could go with no contact, whilst Price and Simon had to settle with a few grainy photos of their partners and the thought that they'd soon be home.

Now, when he noses at your neck and smells sweet perfume and your laundry detergent, it feels very much like a wet dream coming true. He doesn't even bother to fully take your panties off before he's thumbing at your clit through the flimsy material, stripping himself of his gear with one hand. He quickly grows frustrated with the way his dick is straining at the fly of his pants, grunting as he pulls his hand away to strip his clothes off, whilst you take the opportunity to lose your panties, throwing them vaguely in the direction of the hamper , parting your legs and bending them at the knee, waiting for him with your bottom lip chewed anxiously between your teeth. He doesn't even bother kicking his clothes away, kneeling on where they're piled up at the side of the bed as he grabs your hips with hands that have forgotten to be gentle after being rough for so long, pulls you to the edge of the bed, hooking his forearms under your thighs and splaying his hands over your stomach as he noses at your clit. There's a feral, barely concealed glint in his eye as he whispers kisses against your cunt, murmuring how bad he missed you, about how you look more beautiful than when he left. "Missed y' so fuckin' much baby. Missed your angel face." He growls into your skin, the tears mixing in your eyes split between need and pure relief.

He doesn't even bother with his fingers as he licks a hot stripe between your folds, your hips twitching under his hands as he savours you like a last meal. "Si.." You whine out sweetly, voice whiny and utterly pathetic. "Tha's right. Tha's it, gonna let me hear ya?" His Mancunian accent, eroded around the edges from years of travel, and the rumble of his voice have you on edge, hands gripping into the sheets as you let your eyes fall back into your head swimming with utter bliss. "Mmhm!"

Not even a minute later, Simon looks utterly perplexed as you try and shimmy yourself away from his tongue, despite the way your thighs are clamped like a vice around his ears. "Wha's wrong baby?" He growls, messy brows furrowed in concern as he looks up at you in the near darkness of your bedroom. "Jus' need you, Si." You whine, body short circuiting as you consciously attempt to free his face from between your legs whilst the animal side of your brain compels you to keep him there and continue the ecstasy his tongue spearing into you provides. Your needy words cause his expression to perk up as he gently guides your knees outwards so he can actually remove his face from where it's stuffed between your thighs and cunt.

From your position on the bed, and his kneeling beside it, you'd been unable to see the way his cock was already hard and leaking, bouncing against his stomach, but as he pushes you back to the centre of the mattress, you got a full view of his pretty dick as he lines the pearly tip against your entrance, smearing precum against it as though to make the stretch easier (which is a total placebo). His fingers loop through yours as he notches his tip inside, refusing to blink as you take him to the hilt with a quiet whine, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. "Fuck, 've missed seein' you take me so well." the sound of his grunts and the lewd squelch which accompanies his thrusts is the only thing besides your airy moans and his soft growls filling your blissful bedroom.

The sight of you alone has him almost embarrassingly close to finishing inside of you, but when your pussy flutters around him and you give a choked off keen before cumming around his cock, he gives up on any restraint, snapping his hips so that his tip hits your cervix, ropes of hot cum spilling into your tight heat as he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, repeating how perfect you are, how much he loves you and missed you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Meant for this to be some cutie, fluffy little brainrot not 1k of smut Sorry! (not sorry!😚) also this isn't edited because rereading my own writing makes me cringe so apologies 4 any mistakes 🩷

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arlertwhore · 16 days

Text

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: paige shows you how that strap game is and you fall in-love.

warning (s): smut, kinda virginity loss, strap, oral, fingering, nipple sucking, penetration, kinda fluffy and kinda cute, hair pulling.

word count: 3.7k

author note: based off req again, unedited again, wrote very late at night, ty for the support once again!! MINORS DNI

Whenever Paige & you texted, on the rare occasion, it was typically

inquires on scheduling, clothes that were left behind, or silly videos you found funny enough to share with Paige, your only companion with a foolish sense of humor alike you. Your Uni Friends were far too serious to handle your actual humor, and in the groupchat, all

that would be shared amongst you guys were academically humor-ous videos. You enjoyed being able to send Paige anything, even if it had the most crass, offensive, abrasive humor behind it. That's how you saw it when you sent her what you sent her, but Paige couldn't lie, she didn't expect you to be this forward. Readying herself to reply sweetly to your Tiktok or Reel or whatever since it was a rare thing, in the midst of practice, thankfully on a break and away from her team, she had opened your texts to a picture of your Amazon cart, showing you had purchased a big strap-on dildo.

It was either she left you on opened, speechless, or expressed her truest thoughts.

Paige replied: ?

Paige replied: 70$🤨 Is this why you've been working extra-lately?

You chuckled, on your break at work, replying: caught me 😊

You bit your lip: excited p?

Later that night, she called you to follow up on the details. "You got that for me?" She was treating this entire ordeal like a kid before a talent show, nervous and wanting to perform their best. "Paige, I'm hoping you aren't seriously calling me at 3AM on a Monday to ask me why I wanna use a strap with you." you groaned, having just got done with your nightly routine and being nearly asleep when she phoned you. "You're a grinch when you're tired," Paige teased, "I'm just making sure you're not asking me to use this because I can't satisfy you or sum." If only she knew how many sleepless, stressed-from-school-and-work, horny nights you had, trying to conjure her face in your mind, replicate her finger-work to no avail. That was actually how you got the idea for the strap. While browsing on her TikTok, trying to find something hot to help you stick the image in your mind, you had seen a video of her dancing with KK, and she had done a thrust dance motion that was so incredibly smooth it made you feel butterflies. You wanted to experience it for yourself now.

"Paige!" you exclaimed, "You're so annoying, Paige, oh my gosh! Of course it's not like that, I just like fucking you and I wanna try new things. Don't you? We could take turns with it and it could be so fun and-"

"FUCK no!" Paige chortled, a chuckle escaping her lips, "I'll let you and this attitude go back to sleep, but tomorrow you're getting it fucked out of you," she declared. "Yeah, whatever, Peanut Butter," you retorted. "Mhm, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll be jelly." she quipped in a genuine attempt to flirt, and you burst out laughing. She was so cute and unintentionally funny sometimes.

You couldn't have been more grateful for Amazon-Prime Shipping and the power of sleep and your busy schedule, because before you knew it, it was the next day and you had been post-gym, post-shower, and in your towel preparing for Paige's arrival when the door had been knocked. Happy, you rushed from your bedroom out to the front door of your apartment, and you yanked it open. "Isn't this perfect, P!" you rambled as she entered, undoing her laces and kicking her shoes off. "Finished all my schoolwork at work, just got back from the gym, and just finished showering, and now you're here." Paige chuckled lightly. "Don't get too excited. Let me shower first. That game today was tough, yo, St. Jackson didn't let up."

"Yeah, whatever, Paige, just hurry up," you said at her snail-like speed, placing her backpack on the rack and stretching. You hurriedly began to undress her, eager, and her much taller frame gently and playfully pushed you away. "Get outta here," she said, smacking your butt as you teetered away, giggling, obliging.

After she had finished showering, she entered your bedroom, both of you in your towels as you presented her with her gift. "Ta-da!" you chorused, "Need a YouTube tutorial or step-by-step." you quipped, playfully.

Paige's face turned serious. "Y/N," she began, as if she had just come to an epiphany, "isn't this gonna be your first time with something this size?" You nodded, eyebrows furrowed, wondering why she would look so concerned. "So?"

"So, this might hurt... like how it would with a... you know," you guys refrained from saying the g-word. And though you hadn't seen it that way, technically, Paige was about to take your virginity on a random Monday night.

"Oh," you replied, "I mean, I'm not the kind to back down from a challenge." you tried to humorously brush it off, but Paige was still extremely serious. "No, really, are you sure? I don't mind having a chill night or something," she insisted, knowing that in reality, if you guys had a chill night just hanging out, she might fall for you even harder. Heck, to be the first person inside you—the very first—was gonna cost her even more feelings of limerence for you. You pressed your lips into a flat line. Your next words, though meant in a literal way, made Paige's heart flutter. "If not you, then who else?"

Girls, even g-words, loved Paige, and she was very popular. She had a wide variety of people ready to have something with her, and you knew that the only reason she was with you was because everybody else was too invested and demanding. This year, at uni, you had finally found an identity. You had a demanding family, who were tough when it came to your academics and all other aspects, meaning it took you a good amount of time before you felt confident about who you were, who you liked, your style—all those key parts of your identity. You getting drunk and being open about it at a party was you at your rawest, and Paige had accepted this. She had seen you in a way you weren't sure you wanted anybody else to, and weren't sure if anybody else would want to like they did for her. So really, if not her, than who?

Paige had a billion things running through her mind that she wanted to say. "I wish we were dating before doing this," could've been one, "I wish I knew so I could make this more romantic for you," could've been another. But instead, the blonde laid her hand upon your cheek, kissing you before murmuring, "Thank you for trusting me with this," nose-to-nose. You grinned. "Yeah... I-, uh, thank you for never saying no," you replied, dropping your towel.

That was usually how it went —quick. Now, after a dirty kiss, you'd get naked and let Paige take the lead, and it'd be quick, raw, and passionate, but it was just different. The kiss was. And though you tried to match the pacing, that was different too. You watched as Paige fitted it on, her back turned to you. When you got bored, you reached into your nightstand drawer and removed the lube for safety. When Paige turned back around, the strap was on perfectly, making you suspicious about this being her first time. Oddly enough, if Paige were to say she did this with another girl, you might actually cry, so you don't ask her and just open your legs instead. "How do I look?" Paige asked, pulling at her chin repeatedly before flexing her arms. "Hot," you replied truthfully, "So hot."

Her hair was still wet, sorta wavy, and her skin was glass after she'd finished moisturizing. She smelled so good too. Everytime you two were about to do this, she somehow managed to look hotter each time. "You're keeping the rest of your thoughts to yourself," she read your mind, "Praise me some more." she teased, dropping to her knees. "What do you want me to say?" you asked, sitting up on your elbows and looking down at her, the girl positioned between your legs. "All the things I could just see you thinking about me," she breathed, her long finger coming up to circle your clit gently,

"All the things I can literally feel you thinking about me." she cleverly remarked about your immediate response to the sight of her: wetness. "I was thinking..." you begun, retracing your memory, mind always hazy when her fingers were on you. "Mhm," she murmured, suctioning your clit into her mouth gently, her eyes fixed on yours to let you know she was still listening. "Fuck," you breathed out, "Fuck, Paige, don't do this to me," you whimpered desperately. "You stop, I stop," she replied, pulling back slightly. "It's not so hard, is it?" she quirked a brow, pushing a finger inside your hole, eliciting a sharp gasp from your parted lips. "Tell me what was on your mind a second ago," she demanded as she pumped her middle finger in and out of you at a slow pace, too slow for your liking.

"You're so hot, Paige," you moaned, toes curling as she rewarded your disclosure with a long lick. "You always look so good all the time," you sighed, lip quivering as her finger made contact with your g-spot, stroking it in a distinct motion that made your lip quiver. "You have the prettiest eyes. The prettiest hair. You're just so perfect, gosh," Her oral ministrations ceased momentarily as she added another finger into you, her voice teasing, "Tastes and sounds like y/n's got a crush on me." You hated her smart mouth.

And simultaneously, you loved it and it felt too fucking good. "I love how smartly you talk too—so naturally," you confessed, feeling a surge of arousal seep out of you as her fingers maintained their unhurried pace within you. "You do, baby?" she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Yeah," you moaned needily, "and I love it when you call me that." You melted into her touch, reveling in the mix of sensations coursing through your body. It was moments like these that blurred the lines between strictly pleasure and raw desire. You found pleasure in Paige's moments of dominance, relishing the sensation of being degraded. However, when she slipped up and used endearing terms, it shifted the dynamic, offering a glimpse of something beyond mere physical intimacy. In those moments, you could almost forget the boundaries of your arrangement as fuck buddies. It also dawned on you that your submission was a source of satisfaction for her, which in turn heightened your own pleasure. It was a delicate balance of power dynamics that fueled your exchange.

Paige continued her slow and sloppy assault, alternating between gentle licks and rough suckles, driving you to the edge of madness with each passing second. Paige's pace was torturously slow, but every moment felt like an eternity of bliss. She took her time, savoring every taste and sensation, making sure to explore every inch of your tight insides and throbbing clit. You moaned her name, your fingers tangling in her hair as you urged her on, wanting more of her touch, more of her tongue. Just more.

She draws back, a glistening trail of your essence adorning her chin. A connection between her and your cunt, strings of slick guide the way back into your wet pussy. With a gentle sigh, she spits lightly, a delicate touch that heightens the sensation, before tenderly reengaging, her tongue dancing with a graceful finesse amidst the delightful mess and head shaking passionately as she slurps you up. Lost in the moment, a wave of tranquility washes over you, enveloping you in the tender embrace of her touch. As her fingers explore deeper, a third joins the dance, their gentle caresses coaxing forth a symphony of pleasure.

Each movement is a whisper, a soft murmur of affection that sends shivers down your spine. With every stroke of her tongue, every tender exploration of her fingers, you feel yourself drawn closer to the brink of ecstasy. And as you teeter on the edge, your voice rises in a gentle climax, a whispered invocation of her name that echoes through the room, showcasing the intensity of your desire as she expertly continues to tongue-fuck you through your orgasm, each stroke pushing you further into the realms of euphoria. "Paige! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," you cry out, and she doesn't release you, holding your thighs firmly as she acknowledges your ecstasy with a soft, "Mhm." into your pussy.

When she's satisfied — when your body stops convulsing and you lay flat back onto the bed, heaving — she climbs up your body, her lips trailing wet kisses down your neck and chest. Each kiss sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that refuses to be extinguished. As her lips reach your nipples, she sucks on the right breast, eliciting a tiny moan from you. You hold her head close, the sensation distracting you from the cold lube she squirts onto your cunt. But as the gel is applied, a lingering pain stirs within you granted by her fingers, a sharp reminder of the intrusion to come.

Despite the discomfort, you focus on her, craving the connection between you. With a raw intensity, you pull her into a kiss, the carnal desire between you palpable. "I can't wait for you to fuck me," you murmur against her lips, your voice thick with anticipation. "I know you'll do so good." You fall into another kiss, and this time, Paige takes your legs, raising them up to your sides. With practiced ease, she spreads the lube around your cunt, mixing it with your natural slick and saliva. The sight of the strap-on makes you pause, realizing its size for the first time.

Paige notices your hesitation and speaks to distract you. "You nervous?" she asks, her voice laced with concern. You glance down at the intimidating shaft, contemplating the impending pain. "How bad is that gonna hurt on a scale of 1-10?" you inquire, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Paige doesn't sugarcoat her response. "8," she admits, her hand pumping the shaft. "9," she adds, hunching over your body. "But to you, that's a 10." She knows you well, understanding your body and its limits like no one else.

But you trust her implicitly, knowing she'll guide you through this experience with care and expertise. "Give me this hand," she commands, placing your left hand onto the cock. "While I push, you'll feel it, so you know when to brace for impact, kay?" You nod, a silent agreement passing between you. She raises her right hand like she's making an oath. "I'll use this hand to play with your clit," she promises, her touch grounding you in the moment.

And if you want me to stop at any time... what's the word?" she asks, her gaze locked with yours. "Toasted cornuts," you reply without hesitation. "Toasted cornuts," she repeats, a solemn vow passing between you. With her left arm caging you in, you focus on her muscles, admiring her strength and determination. "You have such a nice body," you remark, unable to resist complimenting her.

Paige lets out a tiny whistle, her confidence bolstered by your words. "Look who's fuckin' talkin'," she quips, her thumb circling your clit with a newfound rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. "Tell me when you're ready," she instructs, her voice soft and reassuring. You hesitate, uncertainty clouding your mind. But you trust Paige implicitly, knowing she'll support you through every step of this journey. "I..." you are, definitely, but you hesitate. Paige is like a mind reader. "What do you need. You can't be afraid to tell me what you need." You stare up at her, wondering if it'd break the barrier of casualty. But you really did trust her. And again, if not her, then who? "There's too much space between us, Paige," you confess, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "I need you closer." Her response is immediate, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. Pressing her chest against yours, she buries her head in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys in her wake.

She was super nervous herself — she had deliberately kept that distance, fearing the intimacy that would inevitably follow. By closing the gap between you, she was exposing herself to a vulnerability she hadn't anticipated. As she pressed her body against yours, her heart raced with uncertainty. Every touch, every kiss, threatened to break down the walls she had carefully built around herself. But she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards you, the magnetic attraction that drew her closer with each passing moment.

With her lips against yours, she tried to push aside her fears, focusing instead on the raw passion that ignited between you. In this moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming desire to be close to you, to feel your body pressed against hers in a shared embrace of passion and longing.

"I'm ready," you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure?" Paige asks, her concern evident in her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure," you reply with conviction, ready to face whatever comes next. As she begins to push forward, the intrusion feels foreign at first, but the discomfort quickly gives way to a deep, throbbing pleasure. You moan, the sensation overwhelming yet undeniably arousing.

"Hey, play with your clit," Paige instructs, her voice a soothing melody in the midst of your passion. "Feels better that way." You obey, your hand finding its way to your clit, your movements synchronized with Paige's thrusts. They start slow, almost teasingly, as if she's savoring every moment of your connection. Each movement is deliberate, calculated to elicit the maximum amount of pleasure from both of you. As she pushes forward, you feel the pressure building inside you, a delicious ache that only serves to heighten your desire.

You whimper, suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to be on your stomach. "Paige, turn me over," you plead, your voice a desperate plea for more, and with her immense strength, she effortlessly complies. The sensation floods your senses, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. As she positions you just as you had envisioned, memories of that electrifying encounter in the bathroom flood your mind. It's as if fate has brought you full circle, and now, here you are, experiencing the culmination of that desire.

With one hand firmly planted on your hip, Paige holds you steady as you press yourself against her, the intimacy of the moment washing over you like a wave. Your face contorts in pleasure as a guttural moan escapes your lips, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming and exhilarating all at once. "Oh, fuck, Paige," you gasp, your words a breathless declaration of pleasure. "Fuck, you feel so good." She can hardly find the words to respond, caught up in the raw passion of the moment. Her gaze meets yours, filled with awe and admiration as she marvels at your willingness to surrender to her.

"You're taking it so well, Y/N," she murmurs, her voice laced with admiration and desire. The sound of your name on her lips sends a thrill of pleasure coursing through you.

"Just for you," you whimper, your voice trembling with desire, "Just for you, P." Paige's thrusts exceed your expectations, her hips moving with a fluidity and precision that leaves you breathless. It's as if she's been trained for this moment, every movement calculated to maximize your pleasure. She wasn't lying when she said she would fuck the attitude out of you.

Using your hair to lift you up and off the bed, Paige forces your back into a proper arch, holding you in that position as she pistons her hips against yours. The sound of skin clapping against skin fills the atmosphere, punctuating each thrust with a primal rhythm that echoes the urgency of your desire.

"I'm gonna make you cum," she growls, her voice husky with need, and you can only moan in response, "Yeah, please," a plea for more, for release.

As she pounds into you relentlessly, you fumble with your clit, seeking that elusive release that hangs just beyond your grasp. And then, as her movements become more frantic and urgent, you feel it—the familiar sense of impending bliss, building and cresting within you.

With a cry of ecstasy, you finally succumb to the overwhelming pleasure, your body convulsing in ecstasy as torrents of pleasure cascade through you. It's as if the entire universe narrows down to this singular moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, enveloping you in a cocoon of rapture and leaving you breathless and utterly spent in its wake. Tears stream down your face, a testament to the intensity of the ecstasy you've just experienced as you come down from the peak, your heart still racing and your senses tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

As the weight of the moment settles over both of you, there's a palpable shift in the air. Paige withdraws from you, her movements mirroring your own sense of vulnerability and realization. For a moment, the silence between you is heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

Then, with a tenderness that belies her usual confidence, Paige turns you over, her gaze soft yet intense as she meets your eyes. In that moment, you can see the depth of her feelings reflected back at you, a mixture of awe, tenderness, and a hint of uncertainty.

Without a word, Paige enfolds you in her arms, pulling you close against her chest. It's a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying more than words ever could. In her embrace, you find solace, reassurance, and a sense of belonging that fills the empty spaces within you.

As you rest against her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath your ear, you realize that this is just the beginning of your journey together. You guys have started something beyond what this was supposed to be.

love is in the air? leave comments guys tell me what you think about this.. chapter? part? Where do you think the relationship is going and where do you want it to go? Inbox is open!

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mactavishsgfandwife · 3 months

Text

Precious - A Simon Riley HC

just silly fluff - two little hcs - i haven’t reread this

photo credits entirely to @ave661

oh heartless simon riley? oh, "shut up, bitch" simon riley?

what about tired, cuddly simon riley? what about overly touchy simon riley? what about simon riley who would definitely be one of those guys who acts tough, but the second he gets home to you nothing could pull him away from his favourite girl?

on the bus home from work, his mask would be pulled down, the white skull-face mask stretching over his strong nose, and his blue eyes encircled by dark paint. headphones in, head down, unintentionally scaring the shit out of anyone who walks past.

you’d be a little intimidated to sit by him, with his shady mask and all-black, practical clothing that covers those broad shoulders and his tall stature. he’s a weapon of a man.

but when he was standing outside of your front door, and looking down to see your loving face staring right back up at him, not even that mask could hide his smile. his headphones were no longer in his ear and instead dangled a little out of his pockets. he needed to hear you, to give you all of his attention.

as soon as the door clicks shut behind him, he drops his bag, arms instantly reaching out to hold you, as if the action was built into him. as if you were second nature to him.

"hey, darling…" he grins, as you gently pull his mask up, amused to watch you try to sort out his messy hair. that short, light hair that’s been scruffed up under his mask all day.

"missed ya."

naturally, the same little grin stays on his face as he leans down to your level, aligning your lips to his with a gentleness that no one could else could ever have suspected and kisses you. strong arms hold you, pulling you in, so that his muscular back is practically shielding you. and yet, every movement is so gentle, treating you like the most precious thing in the world.

"d’ya miss me too, love?" he whispers, his breath close to your cheeks as he’s barely able to part his lips from you.

i feel like, in the mornings, simon would not be helping you get up and start your day. in fact, he’d actively work against you, begging you to stay with him for just a ‘few more minutes’ (in other words, at least 2 more hours). or he’d bribe you, with promises of kisses, and your favourite food (which he definitely isn’t that great at cooking), and back rubs, and just about anything he can think of. i mean, this man cannot bear to let you leave him in the mornings.

sometimes, he’ll pull his body weight on top of you, acting like a very heavy weighted blanket. he’d lay his head on your chest, sneakily nuzzling his face into it, with his broad chest pinning you down at the stomach and his hands slowly stroking up and down your sides and your arms.

"simon…" you’d groan, "please, i have work…"

"zzz…" he’d make very exaggerated snoring noises, pretending to be asleep, with one eye fluttering open and closed to peek up at you. he’s not a very believable actor.

"alright, big guy, get off…"

"can’t, m’sleeping on you," he’d whisper, a little smirk forming on his face. oh, he thinks he’s so funny.

thanks for the support lovelies :)

#i’m down bad #i need him badly #simon ghost Riley #simon riley #ghost #simon Riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #fluff #headcanon #soft!ghost #cod #cod mw2 #cod headcanons #cod x reader

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babyleostuff · 10 months

Text

HURTS SO BAD | CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

summary | seungcheol calls you clingy in front of the rest of the boys

genre | angst & fluff

word count | 2k

pairing | choi seungcheol x gn!reader

authors note | if you have any svt requests feel free to write me 🫶🏼

It was the third time today your call went straight to voicemail. If not for Jeonghan’s messages that Seungcheol was at the practice, you would have thought that something happened to him.

This whole situation was very odd, Seungcheol usually picked up your phone calls, and even if he didn’t, he would always send a text saying he would call you back as soon as he could.

“Maybe it’s just a tough practice session,” you thought.

They had been practicing hard for the last couple of weeks, some of them locked up in their studios and the rest working on the choreography, spending most of their days and nights at the HYBE building.

Not dwelling on it much, you packed your bag and left for the boys’ favorite ramen place. You could bet they didn’t have a lot of proper meals during that time, so as the caring partner and friend, you took it upon yourself to take care of those hard-working boys.

As you got into your car and started the engine, you noticed the dark clouds looming overhead. The next second the patter of raindrops began lightly on your windshield, gradually increasing in intensity.

“Great,” you thought. “Of course, it had to start raining now.” Even so, you gave up on going back home for an umbrella - you just wanted to get the boys the food they needed and finally talk to Seungcheol.

As you pulled out onto the road, the rain only intensified, and your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as you concentrated on the crazy traffic you got into.

After a while, you safely parked the car before the restaurant and quickly ran inside, shielding yourself with your jacket as best as you could. Or Seungcheol’s to be more precise.

He never minded when you were stealing his clothes, always making sure to tell you how adorable you look in them.

You knew the boys’ favorites like the back of your hand, so after you quickly ordered the food the only thing left was to wait, and hope that nothing serious is going on with your boyfriend.

You didn’t know why exactly you were overthinking this so much. Surely, he had his quiet days where he needed some time for himself, so why would it be different this time?

The thing was, he always would give you a heads up when he wanted to be alone, but nothing like this happened this time.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to carry this alone?” the waiter pulled you out of your deep thoughts.

“Yes, I’m kind of used to this,” you chuckled.

Getting back to your car, the rain still pouring, you quickly but safely made your way to the HYBE building.

Being a partner of one of the most influential people in this company was certainly an advantage, and that's why getting to the dance practice room was not an issue for you.

Chan, Minghao, and Soonyoung caught your attention first, as they were probably going over some steps in the middle of the room.

Then you spotted Joshua, Jonghan, and Jun talking in the corner, as well as Mingyu, Vernon, and Seungwan arguing about something, per usual. The rest of the boys were resting by the mirrors, and that’s where you also finally found your boyfriend.

“Food has arrived,” you laughed as you saw the expression on Mingyu’s face, who was the first to notice you. Someone turned the music down, and not a second later most of the boys were around you picking out their orders.

“You’re the best,” said Jeonghan and hugged you softly. With only one last box in your hand, you turned to Seungcheol, who looked like he hadn’t noticed your presence yet.

“What is up with him? Has he been like this the whole day?” you turned to Jeonghan.

“Yeah, but I’m sure he’s just stressed,” he sighed, looking at his best friend with a bit of pity in his eyes.

You patted Jeonghan’s back and walked up to your boyfriend, crouching before him.

His posture appeared slouched, and his eyes, once vibrant and full of life, now carried a subtle hint of exhaustion, with heavy lids that seemed to be begging for rest.

The deep lines and shadows under Seungcheol’s eyes betrayed his lack of sleep, confirming your suspicions that he didn’t take proper care of himself.

“Hey, baby. I got you food,” you smiled at him, taking in the lack of his usual energy and enthusiasm.

He didn’t even look at you as he stood up and passed by you. Now this was very weird. “Cheol, what is going on?” you asked, your voice laced with concerne.

He let out a deep sigh, which could’t mean anything good, and turned around to look at you.

“What do you want me to say, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow at you. “You come here, God knows why, and disturb our practice, which is like the last thing we want right now,” his tone was only getting angrier as he spoke.

“Thanks for the food, I guess, but we are capable of taking care of ourselves. We’re adults, it’s not like you have to look out for us all the time, you know. Trust me, we are stressed enough, and we don’t really want anyone else to be up our asses right now,” he was at the verge of raising his voice right now, which has never happened in your relationship before.

With each hurtful word coming out of his mouth, you could feel yourself getting smaller and smaller and your eyes welling up with tears, shimmering with unspoken pain.

The thoughts in your head were racing, searching for meaning or a way to process the hurtful words you just heard from the person you loved the most. You folded your arms tightly across your chest as if trying to shield your poor heart from further harm.

“What would be the best right now is if you simply left and stopped being so damn clingy. Oh, and I was actually looking for that jacket, so if you don’t mind, could you please leave it?”

The moment these words left your boyfriend’s mouth, something in you shifted. You looked at him in pure horror, not once in a million years thinking you’ll hear these words from Seungcheol.

The boys could see how your expression changed, a mix of emotions flickering across your face - hurt, betrayal, and anger. Your muscles tense, and fists clenched, you breathed hard, ready to defend yourself.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? No, but seriously,” you laughed in disbelief.

“I come here, scared as shit because you haven’t been answering any of my calls or texts, and if it wasn’t for Jeonghan, I wouldn’t even know if you were fucking alive Seungcheol,” you noticed he flinched hearing you using his full name.

“I come here with food because I know for a fact that no one in this room has eaten anything proper in a week, and you dare to call me fucking clingy? For what? Taking care of you? If I’m such a burden, why do you even want to be with me, huh?” At this point you weren’t holding back, not caring what you were saying.

“I get it that you’re tired and stressed, but I’ll never let you call me clingy for being worried about you,” your voice reflected the strength of your anger, becoming louder than usual.

You could feel your heart breaking as the last words left your mouth:

“Fuck you, Seungcheol.”

Not even sparing him a glance, you threw the jacket at him, turned around and walked out, leaving twelve stunned boys standing in shock from what had just happened.

As you got back into your car, the weight of sadness settled upon you like a heavy blanket. Your gaze was fixated on the road ahead, yet your mind could stop replaying the scene from just a few minutes ago.

The atmosphere within the vehicle felt still, almost suffocating, as the silence enveloped you from the absence of conversation or cheerful music that usually filled the space.

You spend the rest of your day on your couch, and to your surprise, you didn’t even shed a tear. You were too numb to feel anything.

Your thoughts seemed to move in slow motion, as if trapped in a mental haze and the world around appeared muted, as if viewed through a foggy lens.

Just as you were to fall asleep, covered with a single blanket on your sofa, you heard the door to your apartment open. After some shuffling in the hallway, Seungcheol appeared from around the corner.

His tear-stained cheeks glistened under the soft glow of light and you could clearly see his eyes were reddened and puffy. His facial expression carried the weight of his emotions - a mix of sadness and exhaustion.

“I’m sorry,” he simply said, before collapsing to the ground, sobbing quietly. Tears cascaded down his face, tracing delicate paths along his cheeks that you adored so much.

Almost as if forgetting what took place earlier today, you rushed off the sofa and in an instant wrapped your arms around your crying boyfriend. With each breath, his body quivered, his shoulders shaking slightly and his chest rising and falling in sync with his sobs.

“I don’t know what happened, I... I didn’t mean any of this, please believe me,” he cried onto your shoulder. “You have to believe me,” he whispered.

Not saying anything, you only held him closer to your chest, stroking his back softly in a loving manner, as he continued to cry.

“Cheollie, listen to me,” you grabbed his chin lightly and made him look at you. Looking at his tear stained cheeks, you felt so many emotions bubbling inside you.

“I know that you didn’t mean them, but that still doesn’t make it fine.”

“I know, it’s just that-.”

“Cheol, let me finish, yeah?” You smiled weakly at him. “I understand that you have a lot on your plate right now, and if I only knew how you were feeling I would never do anything to make it worse. I love you so much, you know that and that’s why you should have talked to me and told me you needed space-.”

“No, no, no. I don’t want space. I need you honey, I need you around, you’re the reason why I keep going on during times like these,” this time around he was the one that didn’t let you finish.

“I love waking up with the knowledge that I have the best and the most caring partner by my side. I love that you don’t only take care of me, but also the boys. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, and everyday I feel so grateful that I can call you... That you’re my...” he struggled to finish his sentence.

“Your the most perfect person and I fucked up so bad today,” he whispered those last words, slouching his shoulders almost as if embarrassed.

“You did, baby,” you sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “But nothing a cuddle session can’t fix, right?” you smiled widely, at the surprised look at your boyfriend’s face.

“You want to cuddle with me?” he said in his belief, a slight pout on his face.

“Yes, you dumbass. But later we’ll still have to talk about this. You really hurt me and it won’t just go away,” he nodded his head quickly, taking your hands in his.

“I’ll do anything to make it up for you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby,” you laughed and stroked his cheek.

“After Mingyu fought me today, I think everything is possible.”

“Wait, what? Mingyu did what?” Now it was your turn to be shocked. It had to be the first time that the giant puppy had fought back.

“Yeah, I think we should write that down somewhere. But I had it coming.” he said pulling you down on the couch.

“Oh yeah, you definitely did.”

As you nestle close to each other, the weight of the world seems to melt away. Your bodies mold together, fitting perfectly in a tender embrace. Limbs entwine and hearts align, creating a secure and comforting space, for the first time in days.

Wrapped in each other's arms, the outside world fades into insignificance. The only reality that matters is the warmth and tenderness exchanged between your bodies

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faetreides · 3 days

Note

Art seems like such a sub, like he’d be so down pathetic when he sits between your legs, back to your chest while you give him an hj. He whimpers while you whisper dirty things in his ear and shakes more with each pump OOH I NEED HOLY WATER 😭

he gives switch vibes with a sub lean for suuuuuuure 😮‍💨

cw: 18+ mdni, handjob, sub!art, set more in the college era, reader’s a switch too btw but art makes them feral, very loving tho, taking care of him after a tough practice, afab reader

“That’s it, just lie back on me. You must be feeling so sore.” You coo, caressing his biceps and getting into position on his bed.

You recline against the wall and open your legs. Art can’t hide the way his eyes light up as he eases onto the bed and swiftly turns around, resting his back against your chest with a soft sigh. You pick up on the groan he attempts to stifle in his palm, knowing how his muscles be absolutely aching right now.

It’s a big deal for you to show that you support him by showing up to his games and practices, so that’s what you doing earlier. You’ve always admired his determination when it comes to tennis, so you don’t mention that losing a college game isn’t the end of the world. Still, you won’t deprive yourself of the eye candy that comes in the form of your boyfriend sweating and grunting as he practices his drills.

Once it was over, he bounded over to you with a tired grin and jokingly pushed your face away when you tried to kiss him. “Angel, i’m all gross now.” He’d laugh, and you’d shut him up by licking some of the sweat of his cheek.

“Did I do good today?” He asks and looks up at you with his big eyes.

You’ll never not be grateful that he seeks out your approval like a dog with a bone, because you’ve never been so proud of someone in your entire life.

“You always do the best, babe.”

Art blushes and tilts his head back onto your shoulder. And for a cliché moment time stand still, the sunset outside casts an orange glow over the room and the two of you. Your boyfriend looks beautiful like this, eyes shut in exhaustion and nestled in your arms.

But you have other plans for the evening than just admiring your boyfriend, there will be plenty of that later during pillow talk.

Art cracks his eyes to see your hands trail down his arms to end up at his crotch. He’s so relaxed that he doesn’t squirm as much as he usually does, but he turns his head to nuzzle your shoulder.

You soothingly murmur to him, “My boy worked so hard today, i think he deserves a reward, don’t you?”

“I want whatever you have to give me.” He genuinely smiles into your skin, shifting his hips to push up against you palming his bulge.

And it’s true, he’d throw his head back like a whore and moan unabashedly no matter if you were edging him with a vibrator of if you were gently grinding your fat ass against his dripping cock.

You teasingly squeeze his clothed bulge and then dip your fingers under the waistband of his white boxer briefs. Thank god for the fact that Art likes to strip down as he soon as he gets back to his room after practice.

“Lift your hips for me, baby boy.” You tell him with a nip to his earlobe.

He sighs again as he gives you the suitable free space to push his underwear down enough to free his cock. It’s so long and pretty, such a good size too. Flushed blush pink at the tip and veiny, your mouth waters but giving your boyfriend head is a reward for a different day.

Art whines when you get your hands on his bare cock, “You know ‘m sensitive, feels so good already.”

“But your tears are so pretty when you’re overstimulated.” You peck his temple and lean your head on top of his, curling your hand around the base of his dick and steadily beginning to pump him. “You should be happy to cum as much as you want, sweets.”

He whimpers and spreads his legs over yours. You hook your feet around his and keep them there.

Pearls of precum bead to the tip of his cock, making the slide easier. You grip him tighter and move your wrist in quick circles as you speed up your thrusting.

“Oh- F-fuck!” He keens, latching onto your hips and arching his back against you.

“Shh, if you can’t handle this how are you supposed to handle my pussy? It’s so much tighter than my hand, baby, you’ve felt how warm and wet it is.”

He cums embarraingly quick when he gets like this, all doped up on how you make him melt. It’s adorable and a huge ego boost, but he can only cum inside you so much before he’s out like a light.

Art gasps at the mention of his treat, and awkwardly twists his torso around to face you, “I can handle it, can i have it now? Please please please please.”

“I don’t know…” You hum, pretending to consider his begging.

You clasp your fingers around his leaking dick and thumb the tip, spreading the precum. You fuck his length with your fist and you’re going so fast, you’re making a ‘thwop! thwop! thwop!’ sound.

“I think I want you to cum just like this, love.”

Art keens as you furiously jack him off. You rile him up by whispering in his ear.

“Got me so hot watching you today. Seeing the sweat on your body when you pulled up your shirt to wipe your face, i wanted to ride you into the ground.”

Art gapes, trying to kick his legs out on reflex but your ankles over his keep him right where you want him. He screws his eyes shut tightly and moans in between his babbling.

“Unh- unh- ‘s so good, gonna cum, can i cum? Please say i can cum, ‘m gonna burst- FUCK!”

You don’t know who’s crying more, Art or his cock. He’s leaking so much that you had to concentrate or you’ll lose your grip.

You don’t let up until he’s heaving a strangled cry and shooting his hips up, spilling on and over your hand like a fountain. He gets so sloppy with it, fucking himself with your fist through the aftershocks.

“That’s it, such a big load for me. I bet you were aching holding all that in, baby.”

And he’s so gorgeous, mouth open wide and tugging on his hair in random intervals. You grab his face with your free head and rub your thumb over his cheek. You let him come down at his own pace, and when he focuses his pretty eyes back on you, you bring your sticky hand to his mouth.

Art cleans his own mess, maintaining eye contact with you. The fierce tomato red blush he’s sporting deepens. You wink at him and slurp up an equal amount of his cum, like a couple sharing a milkshake in an old fashion diner.

#im more of a sub bottom but sometimes im possessed by the urge to peg a man #challengers #challengers x reader #challengers 2024 #challengers smut #mike faist challengers #challengers movie #mike faist #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #mike faist x you #mike faist x reader #mike faist smut #art donaldson challengers #🎧.asks #🕊️.alivedove

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burstinn · 6 months

Note

REQUEST!

as a male!Reader, I feel very represented in your works,

could you write a male!Reader that’s really tall? Like, humongous? In hight, and body? (In the military as well)

I always see male!Readers that are so small and tiny and baby.

like, no. You get me? Just saying. Thanks!

Male! Reader with the height and body of a goddamn Monster.

(Headcanons)

Note: some mentions on top reader but I like to keep it ambiguous. So you can read it as a switch! Reader. This is a quick drabble of some Hcs

People shown: Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price, Keegan, Graves, Nikto, König, Horangi, Logan Walker,Roach, Makarov, Krueger

-Reader is 6'5.

-Basically built like the Russian terminator guy

GHOST

- Got shocked when he first saw you, wanted to seem more intimidating than you.

-So he puffed out his chest and glared at you.. Bro wants to challenge you nahh 😭😭🙏🙏

-You would fold him tho ngl (in the ring and in bed fr fr)

-when he got comfortable with you kinda jealous his title of the big, tall intimidating man got taken away.

-When you sparred with Ghost it was a tough fight but you managed to get Ghost in a chokehold wrapping one of your tough bulging sexy ass arms around Ghost's neck.

-Never knew he wanted to be man handled so bad it was Hot he had to excuse himself and run off because he got hard.

-Starts imaging if your cock is just as big.. Spoiler alert.. It is..

SOAP

-Looks at you then Ghost mind blown that there was someone more humongous than Ghost

-Teased Ghost for awhile

-Drools over your pecs..

-He totally dreams of being crushed by you..

Or being crushed between Ghost and you.. Or both..

-Asks if he could feel your guns (Your arms..)

(IT COULD ALSO BE YOUR HUGE THROBBING CO-)

-Keeps glancing at your cock. Even though it's clothed.. I mean look at you.. Your manhood is basically too tight for your pants he can literally see your outline.

-Soap asked if he could measure your Length.. So he could see how far it could go inside of him YK?! YOU UNDERSTAND.

GAZ

-More interested than having dirty thoughts.

-Keeps asking how you got that big

-Wants to be just as strong as you

-Cutie patootie (T_T)

-Basically hangs around you to see how you work

-Even follows you so he could watch you train and spar

-Asks about your diet and if how your body looks is genetic

-inspired by you. Like a child (😭😭WHALUAAHHAH GAZZ)

PRICE

-Beneficial for him I mean he gets to have another soldier that's just as intimidating as Ghost.. Maybe even more.

-Is like a proud father

-Talks to everyone about you and how bla bla bla

-Trains with you

-He'd show you tricks and tips on how he trains and you show him tips and tricks on how you train

-Probably has a picture of you at his desk.. Beside the other pictures of his other not biological family. Aka. The whole 141..basically has a pic of everyone they all family up in 'ere

KEEGAN

-Heh.. Yknow.. Pictures..

-In the showers in lockers makes sure he's there near so he can see you in all your glory

-Probably had wet dreams about you

-Also makes sure he's there when your training. It's not like he's obvious everyone there is fuckin watching you

-What's that? You wearing a compression shirt? 🤨🤨 nuh uh in the sex chamber you go 👉

-Touching, touching, touching EVERYTHING

NIKTO

-Quiet

-What the fuck

-Silent panicking

-Jealous very jealous

-Compares himself to you, would train harder just so he can look like you (bb nooo 😭😭)

-Would watch also how you train your body so he could copy it

-You caught him once training in the middle of the night.. And he's using your technique on how you use the punching bags.. He's just getting some stuff wrong..

-When he notices you he got.. Slightly embarrassed and angry.. Panicked inside when you came closer asking him if he was using your technique in training

-You trained him properly on how you do it.

-so like now.. You train him in the middle of the night..

GRAVES

-same as price shows you off but more in an annoying way

-Hes boasting

-Would face you off against his strongest shadows no diff you still win.. Yuuuhhh

-Subtle touching like hand on shoulder, arm, head whatever.

KÖNIG

-Relieved that he has someone that looks like him.. Albeit slightly shorter.. Still!

-Got nervous meeting you first.. Forced himself to act tough to impress you I mean he is a colonel

-Makes sure to be in missions with you. Wants to see you in your most serious and intimidating

-Got intimidated himself once he saw how you act on field

-Tries to be on your good side the whole time

-One day he was watching you and just started thinking about YOU KNOWWW!!

-Blasphemous! He got red and cried to Horangi about it

HORANGI

-You know about this guy

-He's silly

-He'd read fanfics thinking it's him and you

-he'd make fanfics too, about you and him maybe adds König

-Shows it to König all proud and shit as if König isn't looking at him with absolute horror in his face when he reads what Horangi wants to do with you or you with him.

-He's delusional

-Slapped your ass and blamed it on someone else that's near him. It was König.

-Is it as veiny as your arms? A man can only dream.

-gives you a soda can and tells you to crush it in your arms.. Better yet in between your legs.

-Would then tell you like "good now do my head"

-PlEASE let him be between your thighs

LOGAN WALKER

-Rolled his eyes when he saw you

-Avoids you like the plague

-Why doesn't he like you? No idea. He a big pussy bitch is what. He sad you get more dick n pussy than him.

-Complained about you to Hesh

-He may not like you. He can't lie tho. You are good at your job so like he can't do anything about that

MAKAROV

-Sex Chamber. Now.

ROACH

-Quiet around you..

-Looks up at you like a damn bug. It's cute. He likes it when he looks up at you

-He'd jump on you and crawls around like a cockroach

-haha funi jok

-Would use your shoulder as a seat.

-If you do pushups he'd be on top of your back

ALEX KELLER

-Oh..

-Audible gulp sound (haha he's drinking your seme-)

KRUEGER

-Curses in German

-Dreaming about HAHAHAHAAHAH

-If he's fingering his gun to clean it he just.. Thinks..

-If he sees YOU finger your gun to clean it.. That's it he's done.

-He's dragging you somewhere

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steddiealltheway · 8 months

Text

The Danger in Romanticizing (Ao3 Link)

"Steve, I'm serious, you might absolutely hate Eddie."

Steve sighs and relaxes against their couch. This is the third time today that Robin has given him this warning. "I'm not going to terrorize him to the point that Chrissy breaks up with you."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him as if he would seriously do it. "You don't know Eddie though. He's... he's someone you would've hated in high school. He's loud, nerdy, dramatic, and he was in a band."

"Robin, he sounds just like you."

Robin's jaw drops. "Take it back."

Steve laughs, "Come on, he sounds great. I don't know why you and Chrissy think we'll hate each other."

"He was bullied in high school by jocks just like you, but he threw it right back at them," Robin says while pacing. "And Eddie to Chrissy is the equivalent of you to me - her platonic soulmate. If you two don't like each other, then I don't know what we'll do."

Steve stands up and grabs Robin by the shoulders, stopping her pacing. "It's going to be fine. If anything, we'll just make polite small talk any time we see each other. As far as I'm concerned, you like him and he's kind to you, so he's good on my list."

Robin nods but she doesn't look convinced.

"I just can't believe that you two waited a month to introduce us."

Robin sighs and walks away from him, brushing off imaginary dust on their couch and chair. "It'll be easier to explain when you meet him."

"When are they supposed to get here again?"

Robin glances at the clock and goes pale. The doorbell rings and Steve feels a sudden rush of nerves. He doesn't know why he's so nervous to meet this man. He really likes Chrissy, and he can't imagine her being best friends with someone he wouldn't like.

Robin takes a deep breath and looks Steve over for a second sighing as if disappointed in something.

"What?"

"Nothing," Robin says quickly and rushes to the front door. She pauses and looks over her shoulder. "Just please be nice."

Steve gives her a thumbs-up and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, waiting for this mystery man to appear.

The door opens and Steve spots Chrissy first, sporting a very nervous smile, and then the door opens all the way to reveal Eddie.

And holy shit. With all the warnings, it never crossed Steve's mind that the man could be so damn hot. He's wearing a black t-shirt with some band on it that Steve doesn't know but the short sleeves show off a few tattoos that make him curious about how many he may be hiding under the rest of his clothes. He tries not to let his eyes wander for too long, so he doesn't dare stare for any longer, glancing back up at Eddie's face in hopes that he hasn’t been caught.

He feels his heart speed up a little bit as he finds Eddie looking him up and down quickly before shooting him a small smile. And god, he has dimples.

Steve smiles back at him and walks to the front door. He bends down to pull Chrissy into a hug first before pulling away to hold a hand out to Eddie. He takes it, and Steve's eyes catch on his rings quickly. He wonders if the whole tough exterior was built to protect him while simultaneously drawing attention. "Hey, I'm Steve."

"Eddie," he says back. And his damn voice goes straight through him.

"Oh shoot, I forgot to grab something from the store before we got here," Chrissy says. "Robin, will you come with me to get it?"

"I can-" Eddie starts to say, but Robin's already grabbing Chrissy's hand and pulling her out the front door.

It closes loudly and Steve winces at the noise.

Eddie turns to him and awkwardly smiles. "So..."

"So," Steve says, noticing the hesitation coming from Eddie. He wonders... "Can I just come out and ask if you've been getting the same warning that we might hate each other?"

"Yes!" Eddie says and lets out a deep breath. "And did they seriously just leave us alone thinking that?"

"They're lucky if we don't kill each other."

"If? Don't you mean 'when?'" Eddie asks with a teasing smile.

Steve laughs loudly and asks, "Do you want a beer or something?"

"God, I would love a beer."

Steve smiles and walks off to the fridge, grabbing two and gesturing Eddie over to the living room. They both sit on the couch a comfortable distance away from each other, and Steve ignores the itch to move closer. "So, I heard that you were in a band."

"And I heard you were a former jock."

Steve snorts and waggles his fingers at him. "Your worst nightmare."

Eddie dramatically leans away from him with a hand over his heart. "Good heavens, you're absolutely repulsive."

Steve finds himself laughing again. He has no idea why Robin thought he would ever hate this guy.

"So," Eddie says with a small smile, "What are you doing now, former jock? Chrissy hasn’t mentioned you being in any of her classes or hanging around the college, so I’m assuming you don’t go there."

Steve runs a hand through his hair and leans back against the couch. "No, college isn’t for me. I'm working in sales at my dad's company. Specifically, as a car salesman." Eddie immediately cringes and Steve sighs, "Trust me. I know. But I'm absolutely horrible at my job. I can never bullshit someone. If they tell me what they're looking for, I'm giving them exactly that and not some overpriced bullshit."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. "But you're still selling cars, so it sounds like you're doing your job."

"Not the way my dad wants me to," Steve complains.

"So, why don't you do something else?" Eddie asks point blank.

Steve's a little taken aback by the bluntness, but he appreciates it. He shrugs. "I got horrible grades in high school to the point that I couldn't get into even the easiest colleges. Working with my dad just seemed like the only option."

"For a while I was thinking about working at the plant with my uncle because high school was terrible for me. I managed to fail my senior year twice before graduating."

"So, what are you doing now?" Steve asks, curious about what other options there are.

Eddie leans back against the couch and takes a long swig of his beer. Steve tries not to focus on the tendons in his neck as he swallows. "I had this moment after I graduated where I suddenly realized that my creative outlets suddenly vanished. My band had to take a break because everyone but Gareth graduated and Jeff and Grant were going to college, and I could no longer run Hellfire Club which got rid of my Dungeons and Dragons outlet. And for some reason, I was struck with this great idea to write a novel."

He shifts, crossing his legs under himself and looking off in the distance with a sad smile. "I just sat down and wrote and wrote. It's like the words were pouring out of me, and I couldn't stop them. God, I barely slept." He pauses as if he's reliving the moment. "Then, I had this extremely rough draft of this book, and I started calling publishers and I went to the first one who would take me. But they read it and told me it would be better as a children's story."

Steve can't help but interject, "That's just one person's opinion though."

Eddie nods and drinks more of his beer. "Yes, but they offered to actually look at it and publish it once I simplified it."

"Did you do it?"

Eddie nods. "Yeah, and I mean, it brought in a decent amount of money that I've been cruising on, but I don't know. There were so many things I wanted to expand on. I was aiming for a whole book series."

Steve turns to him and sits crisscrossed. "So, what's the children's book about?"

Eddie sighs, "You're going to find it so dumb."

"Try me."

Eddie puts his beer down on the coffee table and leans in to Steve. "So, it takes inspiration from Dungeons and Dragons. And it's about this boy who has never felt like he's fit in. For some reason, he's always been disliked by people or shunned for being different. Then, he comes across this monster, one that he's heard terrifying stories about from all these different adventurers. But instead of attacking it, he tries a different approach and finds that he can befriend the monster, and he ends up naming him Dart and they travel together. And for once he doesn't feel alone."

Steve's jaw drops as Eddie continues to describe the story, feeling frozen in place.

"Then, they come across more creatures, and they find they're all evil because they're always under attack. And yes, some are just pure evil, but it doesn't define the whole species. Then, the story gets really cheesy..." Eddie trails off with a groan. "God, this is embarrassing."

Steve finally finds his voice and continues for him, "Then, he's practically hunted by the town who assumes he's evil because he's with all these monsters which they think he must have some sort of dark control over. But then when an even bigger monster comes and threatens to destroy the whole town, they turn to him for help. The boy becomes a hero, but he goes back with the rest of the monsters who always accepted him for who he was."

Eddie's eyes become considerably wider by the end of Steve's narration. "How do you...?"

Steve grabs his hand and pulls him to his room, opens the door, and goes through the small stack of books on the bottom shelf of his nightstand. He pulls out Eddie's book and holds it up. "You're Eddie Munson?"

Eddie nods, totally bewildered.

"Holy shit," Steve says with a big smile, "Dustin loves this book!"

"Dustin?"

"One of the kids I used to babysit, he's in high school now, but he went on about this book for weeks. He loves Dungeons and Dragons, and as soon as I saw it, I bought it for him. He thought it was some kind of joke because it's a children's book, but he read it and developed so many theories about it. He made all his friends buy it because he thinks it could change the whole universe of Dungeons and Dragons. Shit, you’re like a legend to him."

Eddie's mouth just opens and closes. "I- I don't know what to say."

"Could you possibly meet him sometime? No pressure at all, but he'd love you."

"Yeah! Definitely," Eddie says and excitedly bounces a bit. "God, I've never met a fan before."

"I have to warn you that he may be a bit much, and I don't think he would ever leave you alone after this. But it would make his entire year, maybe even his whole life."

Eddie just smiles widely and nods. "Yeah! Yeah, I mean, I can also be a lot, so I'm ready. Just let me know when."

Steve smiles and shakes his head. "This is so cool. And thank you, really, this means the world to me."

"Same here," Eddie says.

The two let the excitement bubble down a bit, but the smiles don't leave their faces. Eddie glances around though and asks, "No offense, but why is your room so..."

"Empty?" Steve fills in for him. Eddie nods. "Well, my parents didn't really let me decorate my room, and I've just never really known what I wanted to do with my own place. So, I've kind of put it on the back burner. Plus, I spend most of my time in Robin's room or in the living room."

Eddie looks around and shakes his head. "My room is covered in shit. It's like I never have enough wall space or floor space for everything I want."

"I can see why Robin and Chrissy thought we wouldn't like each other," Steve says, sitting on his bed covered in a plain blue comforter and patting the empty space next to him.

Eddie follows the cue and sits down. "That all feels like surface-level bullshit."

"I think they're so blinded by their love for each other that they couldn't think beyond it. I know Robin's scared shitless of messing things up."

"God, so is Chrissy. I swore that even if you were the biggest asshole I was going to pretend to like you. Luckily, you're making it easy."

Steve feels the tips of his ears turning red. "Same here."

Eddie smiles at him, and Steve feels so enamored by him that he can't help but ask, "So, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you seeing anyone?" Steve asks, hoping he doesn’t come off as too forward.

Eddie shrugs and looks down at his hands. "Sort of," he says and looks back at Steve. "I'm bisexual, so it's a little harder for me sometimes."

Bisexual. The label that Steve has personally struggled with for years.

"Shit, don't tell me your biphobic."

Steve snaps out of his mini panic and asks, "What?"

"You practically grimaced when I said bisexual. Or are you someone who is only okay with girls being in relationships but not guys?"

"No! No," Steve insists. He takes a deep breath. He's not sure what it is about Eddie that makes him feel so at ease, but he confesses, "It's just that... I think that I'm also bisexual. I don't know though. I know I've had feelings for guys and felt attraction, but I can't picture myself dating a guy. But I feel so horrible admitting that. Maybe I'm just a coward."

Eddie's expression shifts from guarded to sympathetic quickly. "Who can blame you though? The world sometimes just... sucks. But here's something that kind of blew my mind when learning about bisexuality - you can still have preferences. Like, for me, I have a preference towards men, but I can't deny that some girls I've had feelings for. Even Chrissy once upon a time, but I quickly realized how much better things were platonically. You can always have a preference for women; it doesn't have to be half and half."

It's like something finally clicks in Steve's head. He breathes a sigh of relief. "Where have you been all my life?" he asks somewhat dramatically.

Eddie laughs, "Being kept away by Robin and Chrissy."

Steve smiles and traces their conversation back a bit. He lands on a question and asks, "So, how are you sort of dating someone?"

Eddie groans and runs his hands over his face. "There's this guy I've been somewhat hooking up with at this bar. And he's just perfect, you know?"

"Oh no," Steve says, feeling the familiar phrase wash over him.

"What?"

Steve really looks at Eddie, accessing him fully before declaring, "You're a romanticizer."

Eddie scoffs. "How did you arrive at that conclusion?"

"'He's just perfect,'" Steve mimics him. "It's the dead giveaway. Plus, I am too. It gets me in trouble a lot. But I hate seeing it in other people. Like there's this asshole I work with that my dad loves but I absolutely despise. His name is Collin, and he's constantly bragging about all these women he has practically begging at his feet for his attention and shit. Then, at these work parties, Collin's wife will always just go on about how perfect her husband is. God, it kills me because she's so blind to it all. I would tell her, but my dad would kill me if I did anything that potentially would affect Collin working for him."

Steve sighs and clutches Eddie's book closer to his chest, not noticing until now how he's been unconsciously using it as a source of comfort. "Anyways, I just hate seeing people love blindly."

"I've done the same thing," Eddie admits, "But this time it feels different."

"Ten bucks he sucks."

This startles a laugh out of Eddie, but he sticks his hand out. "You're on." They shake on it quickly. "So, what about you? Are you currently romanticizing anyone?"

Steve smiles sadly. "Not at the moment, but feel free to call me out on it when I do."

"Looking forward to it," Eddie says with a smile. "Now tell me, do you have to wear those awful polos to do sales?"

"I do, but I'll have you know that I actually like those awful polos."

Eddie stands up and gasps, "I'm appalled. Please don't tell me you have more than five in your closet."

"I have way more than five. I actually almost wore one today, but I went with my comfort sweater instead."

Eddie walks slowly toward his closet door. "Is this where the source of disaster is?"

Steve raises his eyebrows and nods.

"May I?" Eddie asks with his hand on the knob.

"Prepare yourself."

Eddie takes a dramatic deep breath to gather himself before swinging the door open dramatically and yelling, "It's worse than I thought!"

"You haven't even looked through it!"

"I saw more than two collared shirts," Eddie says in horror. "Steve, I've decided that Robin and Chrissy are absolutely correct, and there's no way I could ever like you."

Steve laughs, but is interrupted by Chrissy and Robin suddenly barging into the room yelling, "What happened?"

Eddie and Steve look at them and laugh.

"We didn't hear you come in," Eddie says.

"We wanted to check the atmosphere as it was, but we heard you say the thing about not liking Steve and we thought..." Chrissy trails off.

Steve finds Robin staring at him while looking worried. "Steve, are you okay?"

Steve frowns. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You're holding your comfort book."

Steve flushes red and puts his head in his hands.

"His what?" Chrissy and Eddie ask.

"His comfort book. He reads it or makes me read it whenever he's sick, has a bad day, or misses Dustin."

"Robin," Steve groans, embarrassed by his secret being revealed.

The mattress shifts beside him and Steve glances toward the source, finding Eddie amusedly smiling down at him. "So, you're also a fan."

"Wait, what am I missing?" Robin asks.

"Eddie wrote that book," Chrissy answers and crosses her arms, "But he also tells no one about it."

Robin's jaw drops, but Steve ignores it to smile at Eddie. "Aw, so tell me, why me?"

A small blush appears on Eddie's cheeks. "And why me about your..." he trails off, looking nervously toward Chrissy.

Steve glances at Robin who looks at him, gesturing to explain. "I told him I was bisexual."

Robin's jaw drops again. She and Chrissy exchange a look of bewilderment.

Steve throws an arm around Eddie's shoulders and says, "Looks like you two were very wrong."

"And we're very upset that you kept us away from this beautiful friendship for so long."

"Very upset," Steve agrees.

"Oh god, I think we've created a monster," Robin says.

Chrissy just giggles.

“I don’t know, I kind of like the monsters Eddie creates,” Steve comments.

Eddie laughs and Steve looks at him fondly. He doesn’t think that Robin has ever been so wrong about something because there’s no way Steve could ever dislike Eddie.

Part Two :)

Welcome to my new series! :))) I have so many shenanigans planned. And I’m doing a tag list! Just ask me and you’ll be tagged <3

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #the danger in romanticizing fic

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