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captainfern · 7 months

Note

hi cap ily sm

pls price x reader x graves smut 😛

With The Lights Out

Captain John Price x fem!reader x Commander Phillip Graves

["With the Lights Out" boxset by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - price and graves don't have anything in common. except, of course, their attraction to you lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.3k • warnings - fem!reader, all porn literally zero plot, this is nasty guys fr, threesome, reader goes to paris, possessive!price, possessive!graves, oral [f!&m!receiving], fingering, unprotected piv, cumplay idk, double penetration [2 in 1 *wink wink*], creampies, a competitive breeding kink from both men lmao, price has a sir kink, graves has a corruption kink, both men are whipped, praise, degradation, strong language, their last names are used because i find it hot ok? don't judge me 😭

i'm going to hell

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Price and Graves had virtually nothing in common. They butted heads on the scale of authority, and both had very different ideas on how to run successful missions.

But there was one thing they agreed on.

You.

And for some reason, by the grace of the universe, they ended up agreeing on that one thing very well.

One moment, you were in your bedroom, both your captain and commander entering to talk you through certain topics they said had been playing on their minds as of late. It turns out that those certain topics involved you being shared by both of them.

Completely naked, you lay on your bed with a thin sheen of sweat across your skin. Your upper body was propped up against Price's lap, who had one hand groping your breasts, twisting your nipples between his calloused fingers. His other hand cupped your jaw, his forefinger and middle finger in your mouth. Saliva dribbled from the corners, down your chin in glistening streams, as Price's fingers pressed down against your tongue. You murmured moans around his digits while your legs twitched, hiked over Graves' shoulders.

Graves was between your legs, two hands gripping the fat of your thighs, kneading the flesh as his tongue worked in and out of your sopping cunt. He grunted with each thrust of his tongue, his nose bumping against your puffy clit, the vibrations of his grunting making your legs tremble more.

Price shushed you gently. He was still in his boxers, but you could feel the outline of his hardened cock against your upper back. You arched your back at the feeling, and he squeezed at your tits harder, making you mewl around his fingers.

The reason Price had his fingers in your mouth was so that Graves couldn't hear how good he was making you feel. Jealously stirred inside his chest when you moaned loudly when the commander sucked your clit, his tongue between your folds making you babble his name so beautifully. Price used his position to his advantage and gagged you with his fingers, continuing to grope at your pretty tits.

That didn't deter Graves though– who continued lapping at your wet cunt, maintaining as much eye contact as he could. He held your gaze as he fucked his tongue in and out, dragging your orgasm closer and closer. You whined around Price's fingers, hips bucking, nudging Graves' face further into you. Graves moaned, the vibrations sending you over the edge.

You came, eyes rolling back in your head, thighs clamping around Graves' head. He licked you through it, tongue not leaving you until you were whimpering, thighs trembling in his hold. Price praised you gently, rubbing the mounds of your breasts gently as Graves pulled his face away from you.

The American, face glistening with your arousal, locked eyes with Price and licked his lips, a triumphant smirk on his face. Price grunted, removing his fingers from your mouth, before leaning over and kissing you.

You whimpered into the kiss as Price shoved his tongue past the seam of your lips, coaxing more and more little noises from your throat. He held your face to his, angling it so Graves could get a good look. Price opened his eyes, looking to the side and directly at Graves as he smoothed his tongue against yours, drawing more light moans from you.

"That's how you want to do it, huh?" Graves grunted at Price, gently removing your legs from his shoulders.

He rubbed his hands up and down your legs, massaging the muscles of your calves and thighs, then moving up to squeeze the flesh of your arse. You hummed contentedly into Price's mouth at the feeling of Graves' hands on you, pushing and pulling at your warm skin.

"S'that feel good, baby?" Graves asked, his hands beneath the curve of your arse, gripping the backs of your thighs. He leaned forward to press kisses to your tummy, sucking at the soft skin just below your navel.

Graves watched you try to pull out of the kiss to reply, but Price grumbled low in his throat, holding your jaw tightly and sliding your mouth back to his. You moaned into the kiss, but it was muffled, and Graves couldn't help but grow annoyed.

He sat back on his heels as Price kissed you, kneaded your breasts– that, for the record, were covered in Graves' spit from about ten minutes earlier. The American slowly spread your legs once more, moaning under his breath at the sight of your glistening cunt, all pretty and puffy after he'd made you come in his mouth. He licked his lips, still tasting you.

Graves pulled his boxers down, managing to kick them away while still kneeling on the bed. He gripped his hard cock, the tip red and beading with pre-cum. He hissed lowly, pumping himself, more pre-cum dribbling from his slit and down his length. He was so fucking hard it almost hurt.

Gently, he crawled back between your legs as you and Price made out. He had to admit, it was a pretty sight, but it'd be a whole lot prettier if he could just hear you.

So, of course, he had a plan.

Graves gripped his cock and guided the head to your cunt. He dragged the tip up through your slick folds, tapping it against your clit and smearing his pre over it.

His plan worked– you ripped yourself away from Price's eager mouth and moaned loudly, followed by whimpered mewls of Graves as the commander continued to rub his cock up and down your folds. Price tried to chase your mouth again, but you turned your head so you could watch Graves rut himself against your core.

"You're so wet, aren't you, baby? Yeah? You feel that?" Graves asked with a coy smile, circling the head of his cock against your swollen clit. Wet sounds elicited from your core, and it made you whimper out for him again. He hummed, pleased, dragging his cock down to press the head to your hole, circling that as well. You moaned, and Price had had enough of that.

"And who said you get to fuck her first, eh?" He challenged, threading his arms beneath your armpits and hoisting you further up the bed. You gasped out as he pulled you against him until you were sitting in his lap.

Graves grit his teeth, the warmth of your cunt literally dragged away from him. His cock, still fisted in his hand, glistened wet with your arousal. The sight made you wriggle in Price's lap, grinding his own erection against your arse. He hissed, dipping his head to attach his lips to your shoulder.

"I think the pretty girl can decide that for herself, can't she?" Graves quipped, and began moving up the bed again. He closed in on you where you sat all pretty and desperate in Price's lap. "Can't you, baby?" He whispered, then kissed you gently, lips moving slowly against yours. You could taste yourself when the tip of his tongue swiped along your lips.

You nodded carefully as Graves' kissed your mouth and Price kissed along the curve of your bare shoulder. Graves pulled back, eyes taking in every inch of your face.

"I want both." You whined out as Price sucked at the hot skin beneath your ear. He chuckled, and so did Graves, who leaned back towards you to brush his lips against yours, featherlight.

"Can't have both yet, pretty girl," he said. "Just gotta have one cock to stretch you out first, okay? An' you want me to do that? Want me to stretch out this pretty pussy, hm?"

Price removed his mouth from your neck. "She didn't say that, Graves, you fucking prick. Let her speak."

You all but ignored Price, moaning out at Graves' words. You leaned forward to kiss him, just as you felt two fingers weasel beneath your legs and prod at your dripping hole.

Price pushed two fingers inside you from where he had you sat in his lap. He grunted, the tight heat of your cunt sucking his fingers in as he sunk all the way to the knuckle. He placed kisses along your neck as he dragged his fingers in and out as Graves kissed you. Price could see him gripping tightly at the base of his cock.

"Mmmygodddd–" You whined into Graves' mouth as Price fucked you with his fingers, adding a third. His other hand moved over your leg this time, his middle finger collecting your arousal from your inner thighs and circling your clit.

He pinched it gently, and you sobbed into Graves' mouth, your lips going lax. Graves pulled back to see Price's fingers thrusting in and out of you. His jaw clenched.

"Who do you want first, sweetheart?" Price asked you, eyes flicking up to Graves, who was now fisting his cock, watching Price finger you.

"Mmm..." You hummed out, about to make an answer. Price curled his fingers inside you, pressing into your g-spot with just the right amount of pressure to have you crying out, head falling back against his shoulder. "Fuck, fuck– you, Price, please–"

Price smiled at Graves. Graves rolled his eyes.

Price kissed you one last time on the neck. "Want you to come 'round my fingers first."

You did– your orgasm rippling through you like static, making your whole body tremble against him. You came around his fingers, milking the digits tight and making Price groan out.

"Good girl, there you go..." He muttered, removing his fingers with a slick squelch, shining wet.

Cocky, he looked over at Graves and then held his three fingers towards him, crooking them in a come here motion. Graves bared his teeth in disapproval.

"Don't fucking push it." Graves hissed, but Price persisted, keeping his fingers held out towards the American's face. Graves sneered, but knowing just how good your pussy tasted on his tongue made his cock jump in his hand. He groaned, Price's glistening fingers directly in line with his mouth, tempting. Then, he gave in, opening his mouth for Price to shove his fingers in.

On any other day, it would have been absolutely demoralising for the commander. But, not only was the taste of you on Price's fingers enough for his stomach to twist with his looming orgasm, you released the prettiest sound he'd ever heard. You moaned, so breathy and desperate, as you watched Graves suck your arousal from Price's fingers.

Your core throbbed, the veil of overstimulation lifting. Your clit pulsed in time with your rapid heartbeat, and you found yourself grinding into Price's lap. Price nodded, pleased, at Graves, a subtle smile on his lips. Then, he yanked his fingers free and pet Graves on the cheek, saliva smearing across the scar on the Americans cheek. Graves sneered and slapped Price's hand away, but his pupils were blown wide, his cock leaking pearl after pearl of precum.

"Fuck you." Graves grit out, but Price ignored it. Instead, he shifted the scene– instructing Graves to the head of the bed and positioning you on your hands and knees. You sunk slightly into the mattress, but Price held you up, his hands on your hips as he positioned himself behind you.

He rid himself of his boxers as Graves settled you between his legs. The commander placed one hand on the back of your neck, the other guiding his cock to your lips. He smeared pre across your closed lips, and you stuck out your tongue to press it into his slit. Graves grumbled some praise before you were wrapping your lips around the reddened tip.

"Oh, fuck, there you go, good girl, baby," Graves praised, squeezing the back of your neck gently. "That's it, wrap that pretty mouth 'round my cock."

Meanwhile, Price was lining his cock up with your cunt, wet with your two orgasms, arousal dripping down your inner thighs. The sight made his brain short-circuit, and he found himself beginning to push into you with no warning. Your slick walls sucked him in so perfectly, making him groan lowly the entire time he pushed inside you.

You moaned around Graves' cock, eyes fluttering closed, your arse backing up in an attempt to make Price hurry up. But the captain continued his slow push in– dropping half of his body across yours, pressing warm kisses to your spine. Finally, with a leisurely snap of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, cock settled up against your cervix.

Again, you moaned around Graves' cock, whose hand on the back of your neck tightened further. That made you moan, too.

Price panted against your spine. "God, y'taking my cock so well, sweetheart."

You whimpered. Graves pressed you further down onto his cock until your nose pressed up against the light-coloured hair at the base. His tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Graves pulled you back, and then repeated the action a few more times, each time groaning your name for just the two of you to hear.

"Yeah, that's it, baby, suck your commander's cock," Graves whispered to you, other hand stroking the side of your face– so tender, so loving. Maybe that was the corruption kink talking. "You like gagging on your commander's cock, don't you? Naughty fucking thing."

For emphasis, his hips bucked again. You gagged, tears springing to your eyes. One fell, rolling down your cheek, but Graves caught it and wiped it away with his thumb. He continued to hold the back of your neck, guiding you up and down as you sucked his cock.

Price wasn't fucking you as slow anymore. Once he had passed the initial threshold of stretching you around him, he had simply pulled back out and then thrusted all the way back in. His hips slapped against you arse, forcing you forward and making you take more of the commander's cock down your throat. You gagged. Graves groaned.

You could hardly breathe, the pleasure coursing through you rendering you breathless.

Price fucked into you, deep and rough, abusing your cervix and making your eyes roll as light degradation fell from his lips. "Needy fucking whore, taking two cocks, eh? Needs her mouth and her tight cunt fucking stuffed to be happy. Dirty girl... fucking needy."

Graves guided you to suck his cock, gentle but firm, rubbing the tears from your cheeks with soft coos of praise. "You're doin' so well, baby, an' you look so fucking gorgeous, you know that? Lookin' so pretty takin' both our cocks, an' you're doin' so good, too. Fuck–"

God, the drawl of his accent was driving you insane. Price's gruff voice was doing much the same, and it had your cunt fluttering around his cock as your orgasm brewed heavy and rich in the base of your tummy.

Price groaned, pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts. "Can feel you fucking squeezing me. You wanna come?"

You hummed your reply with Graves' cock down your throat. Graves hissed out, the hand on your neck tightening again.

Price grumbled, happy and blissed-out. "Yeah, 'course you do. So fucking needy for it. Go on then. Come 'round my cock."

You tried to moan his name, but it was forced back down your throat by the head of Graves' cock. Instead, you just whined, mumbled and hoarse, as you came around Price. Your cunt squeezed him tight as you came, your thighs shaking– you would have probably collapsed onto the bed if he wasn't holding you up against him. Your arousal dripped down your thighs, fucked out of you by the girth of Price's cock, and you could feel the tiny streams reach the sides of your bent knees.

"So messy..." Price tutted, leaning back and admiring your backside as he fucked into your cunt.

Price's words made Graves grit his teeth, balls tightening and cock twitching deep in your mouth. He held you down against his pelvis, drool threatening to leak out past the corner of your lips again, as he whimpered above you.

"Gonna come, gonna come," he whispered, his whiny tone making your clit pulse. "Oh fucking hell, m'coming, baby–"

He pulled back just enough to release properly inside your mouth, rather than right down the back of your throat. His cum filled your mouth and you rounded your cheeks to take more as you felt him twitching against your tongue. He kept his semi-hard length inside your mouth and pressed a thumb to the corner of your lips.

"Don't swallow yet." He said, pushing a dribble of his spend back into your mouth.

Price wasn't far behind, either– with a guttural moan of your name, it took everything in him to pull out in time. He came across your arsecheeks and lower back, painting your skin white. Mouth full, you whimpered at the warm splatter across your backside.

"Fucking hell..." Price collapsed beside you on the bed, one arm resting across your lower back. He ran his fingers through his cum, smearing it against the fat of your arse and thighs.

But Graves wasn't close to being done. Quickly but gently, he pulled his cock out of your mouth and you kept your mouth closed as he manhandled you into a sitting position. He twisted you around so your back was pressed to his front, and he could tuck his chin against your shoulder, his cock already hardening against you.

"Don't tell me you're tired already, Price." Graves quipped as he slowly ground you down onto his lap, much like Price had done before. Except this time, you could feel his cock against your bare arse, and it made you shudder, cunt dripping against him.

Price grunted, then sat up. "Not a fucking chance." He positioned himself in front of you, and you felt hot with the way both men looked down at you, sandwiching you between them.

Just as you were wondering why you still had a mouth full of Graves' cum, you got your answer. Graves' cupped your jaw, thumb on one cheek, four fingers on the other cheek. He angled your face up to look Price in the eyes, and then he slowly, slowly applied pressure to your cheeks. You whined out quietly as your lips were pushed just slightly open and strings of his cum began leaking out.

Price's mouth dropped open as he watched, dribbles of white mixed in with your saliva pooling down your chin and dripping down your tits. He groaned, his cock twitching again. He gripped it and began pumping himself.

"Lick it off." Graves said simply, his dark tone making your eyelids droop and your stomach flutter. What made it even better was that he wasn't talking to you.

Price eyed Graves with dark, calculating eyes. You imagined Graves was giving him a similar challenging look.

Graves pressed his fingers harder into your cheeks, pushing more of his cum out of your mouth. As he did so, he was smoothly rubbing his cock through your sensitive folds.

Price didn't say anything, and didn't move.

Graves lifted you slightly and lined his cock up with your hole. Without breaking eye contact with the captain, he began placing wet, messy kisses along your neck.

"Lick it off while I stuff her with my cock." He whispered, then nipped at your earlobe, making you whine again.

Price conceded without more than a growl, leaning forward to run his tongue along the tops of your breasts. You moaned at the feeling. Graves removed his hand from your face, instead holding– not choking– your neck as he bucked his hips and shoved his cock inside you in one solid thrust.

You choked on a moan when the head of his cock hit the same place as Price's, knocking up against the plug of your womb. Price dragged his tongue away from your breasts and over your chin, his facial hair tickling your face. He licked up the mess on your lower face, before kissing you roughly. It was all teeth, tongue and spit. You could taste Graves and yourself still on Price's tongue.

"You think you can take two now, sweetheart?" Price asked you calmly once he pulled out of the kiss. He was spreading your legs further, getting a clear view of the way Graves rutted up into your hole. "You think this tight hole can take two cocks?"

You nodded deliriously, desperately. Price chuckled at your eagerness, then lined himself up alongside Graves. The American stopped, balls deep inside you as the head of Price's cock pressed to your entrance.

"Fuck, please, please, I need you, sir." You begged, and Price moaned loudly, ducking to kiss you again. He ran his hand along your inner thighs, collecting your arousal in his palm, before fisting his cock and spreading it. Cock slick, he slowly began easing into you.

"That's a good girl, call me sir when I'm filling this tight cunt." Price whispered, one hand on your thigh, the other on his cock as he fed more into your tight hole. Pushed up against Graves', his cock reached your womb.

You moaned loudly, probably the loudest of the night. You felt so full. They were both so deep inside you.

Both Graves and Price responded with their own grunts and groans of pleasure as everyone paused for a moment, adjusting to the fit.

"Fucking Christ you're tight." Price muttered. Graves didn't say anything. He just nosed at your pulse beneath your ear, breathing hard against your skin.

You were growing hot. And impatient.

You squirmed in their holds. "Please move."

They moved. It took a tense, testosterone-laced moment to get the rhythm right, but both men got it. Each time Price moved out, Graves was thrusting in and each time Graves moved out, Price was rutting into you. They worked like a well-oiled machine, never leaving your hole empty.

You were in heaven– dizzy off the pleasure, mind fuzzy and vision blurry. Your body was on fire, but in the best way possible, nerve-endings tingling as you were fucked by both men. You could feel them in your stomach.

Graves had one hand around your neck still, the other now on one of your breasts, rolling a peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He continued to kiss and lick at your sweat-slick skin, up and down your neck, whimpering against you with each thrust.

"You feel good, baby?" He asked.

You whined out a “yesssss–!”

"Mhm, yeah, feels good getting fucked by your commander and captain, don't it? Feels good getting this pretty pussy fucked by your bosses..." He finished his sentence with a moan into the curve of your neck, skimming his teeth against you.

Price, with both hands on your hips, moved one hand to press against the mound of your tummy, pressing deep enough to make you moan.

"Fucking you so deep, sweetheart," Price whispered, panting. "You feel that? You feel us both in this pretty tummy?"

Your answer was a high-pitched moan. You were already so close–

"Aw, you wanna come, pretty girl?" Graves asked the question, a whisper in your ear.

You nodded, one of each of your arms scrambling to hold onto them and keep yourself grounded.

“That’s it, ‘atta girl.” Graves said, with Price adding a deep, “Come ‘round our cocks, sweetheart.”

You came around their cocks with moans of both of their names, followed by babbling whimpers as the pleasure rolled over you in deep waves. You felt your own release gush out around them, drenching the bed covers, your body trembling unbearably hot.

Both Price and Graves groaned.

"Fuck, fuck, m'close..." Graves whimpered into your neck, rutting into you desperately.

Price was much the same, each of his thrusts becoming sloppier, his hands gripping your hips for balance, as to not topple over his orgasm too soon– not before Graves, anyway.

But Graves had other ideas.

"Fuck, m'gonna come first, fill you up first. How's that sound, baby?" He asked you, words slurred around his impending orgasm. "You want me to stuff this pretty pussy full'a my babies? Hm? Wanna make me proud? Wanna make me a daddy, baby?"

You mewled, biting your lip. "Graves, oh my god–"

Fuck that, Price thought.

"No, no, you want me, don't you, sweetheart? You want your captain to come deep in your tight cunt. Want your captain's babies in this pretty tummy."

You were so dizzy. "P-Price, fuck–"

Graves growled into your neck, and then came with a guttural groan of your name. He stuffed his cock deep inside you and came right up against your cervix, flooding your womb with his seed. He groaned and grunted against your neck, whispering your name over and over as he came.

Price, too high on pleasure to feel annoyed, thrust deeply once, twice more, then came inside you too. He shoved his cock in beside Graves, stretching you out and spilling into you. His head fell forward, onto the opposite shoulder to Graves, and he grunted your name through gritted teeth as he filled your womb.

You stuttered, whimpering at the sensation, feeling so warm and full. Your eyes closed, and you slumped against them, their cum trapped inside you. Neither of them made any attempt to move, just breathing hard against you.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Price asked as Graves pressed kisses to your neck, jaw and cheek.

"Yeah..." You breathed, heart calming. "Really good..."

"Good girl," Graves whispered, massaging your now sore breasts with tentative fingers. "Let me run you a bath. How's that sound?"

"Good..." You hummed. "After... after one more round."

Graves just groaned and Price chuckled against your shoulder. "Christ, sweetheart, you'll be the death of us, won't you?"

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happy october 1st whores

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #captain john price #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain price #fem reader #captain john price x you #captain john price smut #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves #graves cod #phillip graves smut #cod smut

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eiightysixbaby · 4 months

Text

eddie x cheerleader!fem!reader cw: unprotected piv, creampie, spanking, they’re fucking in an empty classroom lol, eddie calls u a slut one (1) time

“that’s it, baby, take it,” eddie grunts, watching as your drooling cunt sucks his cock in without resistance.

it’s a good thing mrs. click had forgotten to lock her classroom door for the weekend, and it’s a good thing you’d let him convince you to sneak off in the middle of the basketball game to let him fuck you. he has your cheer skirt flipped up, your ass on display for him as he drives into you from behind. you gasp, your chest pressed against the table he has you bent over.

if the other girls on the squad saw you right now, holy hell. you’d be exiled from the team, exiled from the school. yet somehow, the thought of getting caught only made you wetter. fooling around with eddie in secret was the thrill of a lifetime, but you often fantasized about saying ‘fuck it!’ and kissing him at lunchtime or something to see the nuclear bomb reactions.

he had your hair gripped tightly in one fist, tugging hard to remind you of who exactly is in control here. you were soaked for him, you could feel your own arousal dripping down your thighs. every delicious inch of him was filling you, pulling out and ramming back in over and over and over in a glorious rhythm.

“eddie, fuck—” you moan as he delivers a swift smack to the soft flesh of your ass. “feel so fucking good.”

“I know I do, baby,” he purrs, smug as always. “but thanks for the ego boost.”

you’re nearly delirious, eyes rolling back in your skull as he fucks you even harder. a consistent string of moans leaves your mouth, and you squeal when he smacks your ass again.

“my god, baby,” eddie taunts. “being so fucking loud, it’s like you want us to get caught.”

you whine at his words, egging him on to keep talking.

“is that what you want, sweetheart? god, you’re such a fucking slut,” he sneers, yanking on your hair when your head starts to droop. “bet you’d just love it if your little friends walked in and saw you getting fucked by the freak.” he grits the last part through his teeth, and you feel yourself clench around his thick length.

“eddie,” you pant, “I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whine, incredibly pitiful for him. you’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t making you feel like you were about to transcend to a different universe.

“soak me, princess,” he grunts, hips smacking hard against your ass.

a few more thrusts and you’re gone, legs trembling as you cum hard around him with a cry of his name. he’s spilling inside of you soon after, gripping your hips so hard it nearly hurts. he watches in delight when he pulls out and his cum starts to leak out of you, dripping slowly down your inner thighs.

with two fingers he swipes it back up, fucking it back in to your abused pussy. you wince, standing on shaky legs as you fix your cheer uniform.

he leaves you with no more than a squeeze to the ass and a quick, hot kiss. but when you return to the gymnasium, mascara smeared and hair mussed out of its previous perfect ponytail, you don’t miss the way he winks at you from the back row of the bleachers.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb

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thewoolyworm · 2 years

Text

Feeling a growing resentment for Instagram and Twitter art communities in this chili's tonight

#sometimes find myself really missing deviantart lol #i'm a bad artist. should've engaged more w other creators. but like. it always felt disingenuous and transactional :(#like hey i acknowledged you can you acknowledge me and maybe boost MY art wink wink wink wink #but like... that's networking babe. i can't believe i chose a field that literally relies on being a disingenuous kiss up to get work #i know that's an awful way to look at it but christ. i'm in a hell of my own making #i have very complex feelings about being an artist that only get MORE complicated the older and more jaded i get #it's both wonderful and very horrible at the same time #like. is it the algorithms i'm mad at or just my own lack of work ethic ya know? lots to consider #i hate promoting anything i do bc a) i have nothing to promote and b) i HATE MYSELF and don't feel like i deserve the acknowledgement lmao #what's even there to acknowledge really? i hobble out of the cave ive been hiding in to staple a hastily doodled piece of fanart to a tree #and then disappear for like six months #and i'm not even consistent with my interests enough for people to see my shit and be like 'oh hey! it's (x fandom) guy!'#and then i have the audacity to be UPSET that i'm not getting the results i want 🙄 when it's literally my own fault #tired. i'm so tired. i don't want to do stupid tiktok trends despite knowing it'll probably get me what i want. it feels so wrong to me #i don't want to feel like content machine :(.... but number go up release happy chemicals ya know?#oooough #wooly rambles

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arminsumi · 6 months

Note

“you’re short”

“okay? so put some inches in me”

all i can imagine is a sassy/bratty reader and a cocky gojo 😭

we’re going to ignore that i’ve only seen one ep of jjk and i’m already requesting smut over it ☠️

OOH, YOU FLIRTIN'?

💗 GOJO さとる

[ Note ] : 🥵😳 what a vision! and lol one ep into jjk n alr thirsty for gojo love that 👍 also u n me are so small compared to him 🫠 also idk if he's more cocky or dorky in this oops lol. and i am writing this on my phone at a sleepover lord help me i have been awkwardly shifting around and avoiding showing my screen to any eyes 😭😭

[ Warnings ] : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : suggestive/18+ content/smut, mentions virgin reader, getting caught

[ Playme ] : XXX

"You're so short."

"Okay, so put some inches in me."

"Yeah, I bet you'd like that, huh?"

"I would, actually."

"Ooh, you flirtin' with me, shorty?"

"Yeah, well you started it, big boy."

Big boy...? 😳

Gojo Satoru, your very cheeky and very bold classmate, who has not held back on flirting teasing you about your height since he met you, is rendered speechless for the first time.

But only for a moment. Soak up your victory quick. He stutters. His brain chokes up. His heart throbs like he's just developed an instant crush. His uniform pants feel uncomfortable.

And then he reanimates himself once he hears Suguru snickering next to him.

"That's pretty bold of you, huh?" he smirks toothily, sinking his shaky hands in his pockets. "Now you're gettin' me all worked up—"

"—oh yeah?" you lid your eyes and flirt. He's taken aback again. "Worked up how?"

"Get a room, you two. Honestly..." Suguru grumbles.

"Yes, I think we will." Satoru winks at you. It's a failed wink. Deep down, he's not confident in his flirting. No. Deep down, he's an awkward dork.

His brain short circuits when you continue flirt back. He actually runs out of things to say.

She's a mature flirt. I'm an immature flirt. How the hell do I keep up? Fuck.

When you and him get alone together, clearing up the chairs after a class, you tease;

"Come on, big boy, what's the matter? Lost your edge?"

"No... I'm just thinking." his voice cracks at the end, he clears his throat. It feels tight. His pants feel tight too.

"About what?"

"About what you look like naked."

You let out a laugh, and laugh and laugh, like he's the most ridiculous flirt you've ever met.

"What?" he raises a brow.

"You're so ridiculous."

Oh yeah. That irks him. That flippant comment. You're not even looking at him as you say it, you're scooting a chair into a desk.

He walks over to you and peers down, making the height difference between you and his 6'3 frame sorely apparent. What a big boy.

"Wanna repeat that for me?"

Ooh his voice is heavy and low, low enough to cause goosebumps on your skin. And the proximity? It makes you feel more than just small, it makes you feel a tingling between your thighs.

He comes closer. Grazes his lips across yours. Mixes breaths with you.

"Uh—" you get flustered.

"—haha, just kidding." he pulls away suddenly. Maybe because he got too nervous (true) or maybe because he felt victorious in knocking you off your high horse (also true).

"I thought you were gonna—" you begin disappointedly.

Satoru cuts you off.

"—do something? Aw, are you horny?" he winks.

"Yeah. For you." you roll your eyes.

Fuck.

My pants feel too fucking tight. Can she see the outline of my dick? Is she looking there?

"Is that so?" he raises a brow, staring right into your eyes. No one holds eye contact quite like Mister Six Eyes.

He chuckles, Addam's apple shifting up and down deliciously. "Aren't you a virgin?" he sneers.

"Yes. I am. Are you gonna do something about it, or just stand there like an idiot?"

He nearly chokes.

Wow. What? She actually just said that?

"Of course I'll do somethin' about it, sweetheart. But..." he leans into your air again, closer than before, 'n breathes tauntingly against your quivering lips.

"... does a goody-two-shoes like you really wanna lose her virginity in a classroom?"

"Stop stalling, big boy. I'm not a "goody-two-shoes"; I'm fucking horny." you seethe lustfully.

Fuck.

He's not sure how to respond. His brain is malfunctioning.

"Alright... then use your words like a big girl and ask me nicely to fuck you." he mutters, lips grazing yours. You can feel how badly he wants to kiss you.

Please say it.

The sexual tension has his heart racing, pretty cock pressing flush against the fabric of his dress pants.

"Satoru..." you begin, pulling on his collar.

He gulps and listens intently. The small touch your fingers make with his neck drives him wild.

"... fuck me."

Something just snaps inside him right there.

He crashes his lips onto yours with a feverish intensity, the rest his history—

—er, until the teacher walks in on you two right as things get toasty, catching Satoru with his hand up your shirt and your hand down his pants. And then you giggle off to detention with Satoru.

He promises to put some inches to your height. Uh... you know... by lifting you off your feet while he stuffs you up with his cock 😌

No copying/plagiarizing/reposting. Do not promote me on other platforms.

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satoruhour · 8 months

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AFTERCARE

a/n: an aftercare collection from da old blog, enjoy! plus also i had an anon asking abt nanami aftercare !!! u read my mind lol / tagging @na-t0, @jabamin who do i tag !!!!!

wc: 2k

warnings: overall fluff, contains nsfw at the start, pet names for all, praise, protected sex, implied breeding, tickle fight (gojo), unprotected sex, creampie/breeding (geto & nanami), implied fwb, cuddling, unprotected sex, creampie/breeding (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

“oh, good girl, that’s it,” gojo mumbles out breathlessly, forehead against yours as you both come together. his lips continue to mutter out praises because he knew how much they affected you, and he hopes that you’d forget all of his saccharine words just so he could make you shiver and whimper all over again. your back arches into his hold one last time, digging your nails into his back.

“you did so well for me — shit — i didn’t think you still had any energy left,” gojo laughs breathlessly at how tired you two were after a mission, yet you know none of you could hold back on each other when passion took over. there’s a slight smile lingering on his face at your sweat-filled forehead and heaving chest and he loves, loves that he’s the only one to make you feel this way. the way moonlight weaves through the window makes you look stunning, and gojo’s smile can’t help but widen.

“what?”

he shrugs, removing his flaccid cock from you and eventually, the condom from himself. he ties a knot quickly, dumping it into the trash beside the bed, but before he can make a move to the bathroom to get you a wet towel, he feels your weight on his arm. it makes his heart flutter and sends shivers down his spine at the thought of doing away with contraception altogether — how would you look with his baby? who’s features would they get? what—

“satoru.” gojo snaps out of his stupor, observing silently while you moved across the bed to him (hell, you sometimes forget he has a king sized), kneeling so you’d almost be at his height. “why were you smiling at me earlier?”

he eyes you with a levelled stare, grin turning into a smirk, “nah, no, it was nothing, baby.”

“hmm… really?” your arms hang limply over his shoulders, “i feel like i should know, you know.”

gojo simply winks, cutting off the teasing atmosphere with a deep kiss before he takes advantage of the situation, hands flying to your sides and you yelp, loudly. your laughter breaks through the quietness at 1am, making your stomach hurt and body squirmy.

“just planning a tickle attack s’all, princess.”

“y-you— fiend!” you try your best to escape the torture, but gojo is relentless in seeing you suffer, his laughter mixing with yours as his initial agenda is yet again interrupted. “satoru!” you both collapse into the soft sheets, giggles slowly subsiding to broad smiles as you admire the other, and him, you.

“god, you’re beautiful.” gojo’s stare bores into you and you avoid eye contact just like every other time he’s told you that, but your lover made it a point to make it clear to you.

“i love you, my pretty girl.”

✶ GETO

geto doesn’t stop giving you kisses even when he releases in you, helping you through the overstimulation by holding you tight until the euphoric feeling subsides and everything halts. there’s a moment of quietness, save for some concerned questions from your boyfriend like he hadn’t just blown your back out.

“sweetheart? you okay?” his eyebrows knit together, always worried that he might’ve hurt you in any way. but you’re always too tired to answer after, simply settling for a delicate hand to his face and a faint nod.

“kiss me,” it comes out as a whisper and dies out, dazed and still on cloud nine and geto indulges you like the lovestruck lover he is. even if he doesn’t need your palm to guide him, he lets your hand bring him right to your lips where they lay waiting. his kiss is soft, unlike before, moulding against your lips perfectly and like always, it makes you sigh and smile. “how’re your lips always so soft?”

geto smiles, hair falling from his loose hair tie. it shields his face and you think he looks like a greek god. “they just are, darling.”

your boyfriend’s always prepared when it comes to cleaning you up, so he usually has towels draped across the bedside table’s railing. wetting it with some water, he warns you gently with the free hand that strokes your thigh.

“but i also sorta use the lip balm gojo uses.” he cheekily admits, hand still diligently wiping at your core. he makes sure to cover it one, twice, thrice, before turning around to stand up. “i can buy it and we’ll share it instead.”

from here, his eyes skim over how the sheets cover you, and how your pose is provocative yet guarded — like an unnamed muse in a romanticism painting. there’s a teasing tone in your smile, a slow and languid drag to your movements. your dramatic gasp cuts off his thoughts, and your acting falls apart when you see geto’s jaw dropping in faux shock, “so you’ve been indirectly kissing your best friend this whole time? how dare you, suguru?”

geto slaps you lightly with the towel, laughing, “you’re crazy.”

“and that’s why you love me.”

he simply rolls his eyes, crawling back onto the bed to come face to face with you, the you who’s still feeling a bit playful, the you who grins at him and thinks that you like your suguru unkempt and messy and drunk in love with you.

the kiss tastes a bit like cigarettes, a little less prominent than earlier, but it tastes like him, nevertheless. “yeah, yeah. although, you’re the only one i’d wanna kiss — no one else, but you.”

✶ NANAMI

nanami groans into your neck with a final thrust, skin feeling the way your body shivered and trembled at how his cock twitches in you. he pumps you full, drinking in the moans of his name and he stays sheathed in you, face buried in your neck like none other. you realise it’s his favourite position — to stay close to you, to feel your pulse, to hear the almost inaudible sounds.

“you’re perfect, fuck,” nanami says, breathless, body propped up with his elbows by your ears; and of course you’ve heard your lover swear — at gojo, at some stubborn curse, at the terrible dishwasher in your home in kuantan and at you, sometimes, but never said like this. nanami looks at you like you’ve the breeze of the beach and the sunset that dips below the horizon.

you had the privilege of seeing that everyday, yet nanami choses to look at you each time, even if you’re always fixated on the scene. today you get the chance to see the love he has stored for you within his irises, and before you can retaliate, you feel his lips on you. nanami moans into the kiss, the need to feel you again taking over him as he deepens it, kissing down your jaw and neck and chest until you remember the abandoned pancake batter you were mixing.

“kento, honey,” he hums into your chest, acting like a child dreading school. “we can’t leave the batter out in the open.”

nanami grunts, “just leave it. i’ll cook eggs and have some kaya on toast or something later.”

“but that’s exactly why we decided to cook pancakes!” you laugh softly, hands running through his blonde hair. it’s starting to whiten a bit, too, but you don’t mind. if anything, he makes getting old look good, “to have a change from our normal breakfast.”

nanami sighs, blinking tiredly at you as he lifts his head to look at you, and every time he fails to resist your expression. you’re not even doing anything, sitting there looking pretty and your husband simply can’t fathom the action of saying ‘no’. he doesn’t want to move from his place — because your profile against the endless stretch of the ocean is a vision he never thought would come true.

nanami gives in, like he always does.

“fine, you win.”

you cheer with a big grin that escalates into giggles as nanami sweeps you off the sheets, placing a kiss against your temple. he smiles at you, at the possibility of living here until he dies; and if that possibility is compromised, he’d fight to make it okay again. he would bring them to hell himself if he could.

nanami kento never liked killing curses, but for you, he would spill blood again just to keep you safe.

✶ TOJI

toji never gave up the chance to fuck you stupid, always propped up in some dingy motel while the money from his sorcerer missions are left on the bedside table. he has yet to splurge it, the need to gamble getting less and less the more and more he sees you. he grunts into your hair behind as your hands make a mess of the vanity table — both too needy today to use the bed — one hand under your leg and the other on your waist as he spills into you.

“that’s a good girl,” your pupils are blown wide at the unexpected orgasm as his cum spurts into you, hitting you like a truck that you’re begging for toji to slow down until he pulls out and his cum drips to the floor. but you notice he doesn’t scoop it up and tease you like always, he doesn’t tell his little insults while slipping on his pants, nor does he avoid aftercare like the lazy and non-chivalrous man he was — no, you notice the silent movements of toji. he was never this quiet, surprising you even more when he sits on the bed.

“what the hell are you starin’ at?” his eyes are locked on the floor, the distance from your to the bed a few mere steps yet it felt like crossing the globe.

you swallow. after all, he was still a large, bulking man, and while his gruff voice did wonders, it always made you a little terrified out of sex. “oh— uhm, nothing.” with another sigh from him, your curiosity gets the better of you, inching towards him with cautious steps. “toji-san?”

his hands are hesitant to reach out towards you, but they make haste to grip onto your waist and although they’re nothing like the rough ones earlier, you still get a flutter in your heart at how big his hands seem to be. they wrap around your waist before his head falls onto your stomach. too scared to ask, you just settle for playing with his hair, content with the warmness of the embrace.

“you’re making me confused.”

frowning, you raise his head from his safe place, “how so?”

you’re careful, because you know about toji’s past through rumours, you know about his hesitancy to show vulnerability. you’re holding his heart, and you’re hoping the words you mutter out don’t shatter and make him bleed again. toji grunts, yanking you down to sit beside him before staring into space as the night winds down. you can both hear the rooms quietening down and the world going to sleep.

“i don’t like this.”

and your heart breaks, because of how toji hates love and how every experience has never ended positively. we fuck and i leave, got it? if you tell me you like me or something, i’m breaking this off. so you lean forward to hold his cheek, offering a small smile. ironic that he’s told you that and yet he feels like he’s the one who broke his own rule.

“it’s okay if you don’t, i’ll be here no matter how you’re feeling; i won’t even say a word.”

toji curls his lip in disgust, but you know he doesn’t mean it when he grabs your hand, “that line was cheesy. i fuckin’ hate it.”

“it was good, i liked it.”

he only shakes his head with a sigh and lies down along with a gesture that says are you coming or what? before your smile is uncontainable and you’re moving to his side. even if you’ve only known what his body feels against you, you’re already hoping it’d happen again and toji reluctantly feels the same, wrapping an arm around your waist with lips to your hair. your heart soars when he doesn’t move away from your hand interlacing with his.

“not a word.”

you giggle at his tone, and the harshness of it. and if you read in between the lines, you’d see that there’s a bit of endearment in him, you just hoped you had the rest of your life to make him love love again.

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urhoneycombwitch · 3 months

Text

shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him.

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look.

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #weed mention #tw weed

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poeticallyspiteful · 9 months

Note

Hi there.

Maybe a newt x f reader where reader its a healer ( doctor) . reader was a friend of theseus and they were working on a case from the Ministry of magic. Thank you so much ❤️

kiss it better

newt scamander x reader

fluff (making out)

cw: unedited, blood, a lil bit of ~suggestiveness~/(okay a lot a bit of suggestiveness i write like a romance novelist sometimes lol sorry not sorry), making out, newt is ripped and hot as hell

summary: newt gets injured and theseus knows the perfect person to kiss it better.

notes: thank you so much for the request love!!! i wasn’t sure exactly what you were looking for with this one so i just used my imagination so i do hope you like it. feel free to request something more if you don’t though :))

16+ please!!

“theseus, this is ridiculous, let go of me.”

it was a small cut, just a little one. a small mishap with alone of his creatures, that was all. such a tiny little ailment.

“it is bleeding profusely and goes all the way across your stomach, newt!” theseus exclaimed, pulling his brothers coat sleeve like a child dragging their parents through a candy store. “she’s very nice, you know that.”

oh, newt knew you were nice— that was the problem. you were so nice, so pretty, so incredibly everything that newt could hardly bare it. years and years of friendship with you and he could hardly even contain his joy at the sound of your laugh, at the mere sight of you. it made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to exist when all he could focus on was you.

“you’re working a case, theseus,” newt sighed, allowing his brother to pull him up the stairs to your apartment. “she’s probably reviewing files or something, it would be rude to interrupt her work.”

but the scamander brothers were already outside your door, and theseus was already knocking. before newt could brace himself for the wave of love sickness that would inevitably hit him the second he saw you, the door swung open and there you were; nice, pretty, perfect.

“hi newt, theseus,” you greeted, chest heaving (you may have ran across the apartment the second you’d heard their voices coming down the hall) “what can i— oh merlin’s beard.”

newt looked down, unsurprised to see the blood had seeped through his white shirt. he gave you a lopsided smile and you rolled your eyes, a pitiful attempt to avoid eye contact with the boyish man before you.

“come inside.”

theseus all but shoved newt inside, already straightening out his suit and brushing the left over floo powder off of his shirt. he looked up to you and his brother, unphased by the confused look on your faces.

“well, i best be off.”

you gawked at him. “your— your not going to stay?” you asked. he shook his head. “theseus! your brother is injured and you’re leaving?”

“we have a case!”

“it’s really okay,” newt said, bashfully, suddenly reminding you of the reason they were there.

scoffing, you turned back to newt, waving your friend off. “workaholic,” you murdered as you began searching for your emergency bandage kit.

and with that, theseus shut the door— but not before sending his brother a mischievous wink. newt felt a shiver down his spine.

sneaky bastard.

you finally found the small red box, pulling it open and rifling through it for a disinfectant and some gaws, as well as a mini suture kit.

glancing up at newt through your eyelashes, you hummed expectantly. “shirt off,” you ordered, some foreign sort of confidence surging through you.

newt swore all the brain cells left his mind. “pardon?” he chocked, suddenly not too concerned with his injuries.

“i can’t exactly fix you through the shirt. now c’mon, we don’t have all day,” you explained.

quickly, newt obeyed, shedding his baggy coat and undoing the bloodied buttons. very quickly, he felt exposed, but the bashful look on your face made him feel more smug than anything.

you had never seen newt shirtless before now, but my lord, did you wish the sight to be engraved in your mind till the day you died. you could see the viens that traveled up his tanned arms, and as shocked to see his biceps had been rather toned under that jacket all this time. his freckles spanned all down his chest and arms as well, dancing around the thin scars across him.

for a man so cute and clever, he was sure an enthralling sight to see.

clearing your throat, you finally looked down at the wound intently, relieved to see it didn’t look like too hard of a fix. with some shallow sutures and cleaning, he’d be better in no time.

“not too bad,” you murmured without thinking, entire body going cold at the implication. shit. the clever smile on newts face grew. “i— i meant the cut isn’t too bad, doesn’t look, y’know, infected.”

“good,” newt agreed, leaning back on his arms. his abdomen tensed at the movement and he hissed at the pain. “ouch.”

before you could look at him too closely, or think too much apparently, you knealt down infront of him. however, as he opened his legs to allow you space between them, you realized the predicament you’d put yourself in.

holy fucking shit.

you looked up hesitantly, feeling your heart race at the way newt looked down at you; nervous and kind, like he was just as surprised by your position as you were.

“this might sting a little,” you announced, trying to redirect his (and yours) attention back to the real reason you were on your knees.

carefully, you wiped the cotton pad across the cut, cleaning up the blood around the wound. newt hissed again, hands gripping the blanket laid across your couch. you had to will yourself to keep your eyes on the wound.

“almost done,” you reassured, finally looking up to see newts eyes screwed shut in pain. quickly, you dabbed at the far end of the wound, bringing your hands down quickly. “all done.”

newt sighed in relief, swallowing roughly. he glanced down to his stomach, feeling his head buzz as you looked back up at him. “whatcha thinking, doc?” he teased.

you could’ve died at the irony. you could not tell him what you were thinking right now.

“well, it’ll only need a few stitches at the edges there on the left, but it should be fine otherwise. just some bandages and you’ll be good,” you answered.

“no magic?” he asked.

“sadly, my regulations to do these sorts of healing charms only spans as far as britain,” you replied. “i’m working on getting the papers here in the states, but for now, just my handy work.”

newt smiled, another grin which made you weak in the knees. “your handy work is quite good.”

you ignored the heat in your face from the praise as you began you sutures. you felt newt shiver under your hands as they fluttered across his stomach, tracing the stitches and looking for any imperfections. finally satisfied with the stitching, you taped some bandages across them, and stood up once you were done. three easy steps, and nothing went wrong—

as you took a step back, you stumbled over the edge of your rug, fumbling backwards as you tried to regain your balance. before you realized what had happened, you felt newts hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you forward.

and forward was onto his lap.

you had spoken too soon.

you caught yourself with a tight grip on his bare shoulders, the skin soft and hot under your hands. your face was barely an inch from his, and your eyes met his in a brief moment of panic.

“s-sorry, i just didn’t want you to hit your head on the coffee table,” newt whispered, eyes darting form your eyes to your lips and back again nervously. he seemed very regretful of his action at first, but he didn’t budge to move you off of him, hands gripping the flesh around your hips.

“t-thank you,” you stammered, gathering all your strength not to squirm in his arms, your heart beating faster than your blood could pump.

newts eyes found yours again, thumbs making small circles in your hip bone. “have i ever told you that you’re very pretty?” the low rasp of his voice could’ve made you faint on any ordinary day, but given that you were practically straddling him, nothing could’ve made you more lightheaded. “especially up so close.”

“newt,” you whispered.

“what, love?”

“please kiss me.”

newt closed the gap without a second thought, kissing you gently. his lips were soft, but needy, pulling away and coming back for more over and over and over again. his hands traveled from your hips all the way up to your head, resting on your jaw. you moved your hands up his neck, playing with the curls on the nape.

you whined as he pulled away entirely, pulling him impossibly closer to yourself. “why’d you stop?”

“isn’t there a rule about strenuous activities post surgery?” he teased, laughing as he pressed another kiss to your lips briefly; he had waited too long to do this and he didn’t wanna stop now. “making out seems pretty strenuous to me.”

“i’ll kiss it better.”

#newt scamander x reader #newt scamander #fanfic #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #newt scamander fluff #fluff #newt scamander imagine

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sunaluv · 11 months

Note

hey!!! big big fan! your writing is amazing!

what if you did a you should come get your man but instead make it ‘you should come get your reader’

i just want to see characters get jealous basically lol. hope you’re doing well !!

🗣️getting rid of my drafts, drop some more prompts in my inbox.

Pairings: kaiser, reo

———————

KAISER

as the game ended and the fans started to filter out of the stadium, you hung back waiting for your boyfriend. now that the seating area was almost empty, kaiser could finally talk to you.

he called out to you as he jogged over. “did you enjoy the game, my love?” you took his outstretched hand and climbed onto the field.

“of course I did,” you swung your interlocked hands. “you were amazing as per usual.”

the two of you chatted aimlessly, walking around the field as kaiser started to come down from his post-game high.

"alright, I'm gonna go freshen up and get my stuff," he kissed the back of your hand. "wait for me?"

you nodded, eyeing the man as he vanished down the hall.

"i can feel you staring!" he called without looking back, making you chuckle.

deciding to be useful, you gathered kaisers left belongings off the bench and started to make your way towards the stadium exit.

"you kaiser's girl?" a voice from behind you.

startled, you turned around to see a guy dressed in the ubers uniform. you don't recognise him and you've met all your boyfriend's teammates, so you deduced that this guy is probably a rookie in training.

"that's me," you smiled politely, "can i help you with anything?"

"you sure can help me with something," he smirked, rubbing his chin. "for starters, you can tell me how that egomaniac managed to bag a gorgeous girl like yourself,"

how he managed to both complement you and diss you (indirectly) you found quite fascinating, but you weren't having any of it.

"he was a real sweetheart." emphasis on the sweetheart. "I'm sure if you use a more friendly approach you can get whoever it is your looking for."

the guy clearly didn't seem to get the hint. "so you're into nice guys, huh. why are ya' with michael then. guy's an ass."

"'guy' also thinks you should show a little more respect to your superiors, rookie."

smirking, you turned around to find your knight in shining armour eyeing the rookie with a smirk.

"my fault boss," his attitude was nonchalant. "keep a tight leash on this one though, or else i might get tempted again."

he smirked, trying to barge shoulders with kaiser as he passed, grunting under his breath when he didn't move an inch.

"you should go fight him, defend my honour." you nudged his side once he was out of earshot.

he chortled loudly, "you're such an instigator, I'm not fighting him."

"you'll do it if you love me?" you questioned blinking up at him with innocent eyes. the things you would do you see michael throw hands with someone.

his big hand pushed your face away from him. "ill do you one better and make his training with the ubers unbearable, how does that sound, hmmmm?"

a pout formed on your lips as you sighed. "...ill take it i guess."

REO

the clock has just passed midnight, but the party your boyfriend had invited you to was at its peak. enjoying the buzz of the alcohol that was once in your empty glass, you headed over to the bar.

"hey," you flagged the bartender down, "could i get a refill on this please?

the neon blue lights of the bar made the sparkle in his eye more evident when he caught sight of you.

"whatever the pretty lady wants," he brushed his fingers against yours when taking your glass. "what can i do for you?"

the brief contact and the intense eye contact quickly fought off the oncoming buzz. "the pretty lady is taken, but she is willing to forget about this if she could get a pornstar?" you offered.

"oh you can get a pornstar alright," he winked. "give me a sec, sweetheart."

alarm bells rang in your head as his back was towards you, meaning your glass was out of sight.

there was no way in hell you were gonna drink whatever he put in front of you.

he returned a short while after, sliding your drink across the bar.

"you know, if you wanted, i could give you another pornstar you'll really enjoy." he pulled back your glass when you reached out for it.

"no thanks. boyfriend." your smile came tight and fake.

"come onnnn, princess," he smiled wider. "aren't you having so much fun at this party? spend the night with me and i can make sure you can get into all the exclusive parties you want."

"she'll pass." came mikage's voice from your side. he wrapped an arm around you, in an attempt to smooth your tense muscles as he dragged the glass back over with two fingers.

the bartender's face hardened, "the lady can speak for herself, thanks bro."

"m' not your bro." reo's brows furrowed. "you're making my girl uncomfortable, did you put anything in her drink?"

the guy shook his head wordlessly, prompting reo to sip the glass.

"wait, what if-"

"don't worry, sweetheart," his hand dropped to stroke your thigh comfortingly. "it's clean, but I'm sorry this happened to you. i should've noticed sooner."

you relaxed with his touch, "it's not your fault, reo. sometimes people can't handle rejection."

"i'm right here ya know?"

two pairs of eyes stared the guy down, one neutral, one daring.

rolling his eyes, mikage turned to face the guy. "between you and me, you might need to find another bribe to pull ladies with because i can tell you now this will be the last gig you'll ever do."

the guy gulped under reo's intense gaze.

"alright man, in understand the ladys' taken, you don't need to go threatening my job."

"you threatened your won job once you tried it with her,"

you placed a hand on his arm as a reminder to be rational.

"i'm sorry baby," he pecked your forehead. "you ready to go home?"

you nodded.

#bllk x reader #bllk scenarios #bllk imagines #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock #blue lock imagines

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earlgreyflowers · 4 months

Note

REQUEST: If you'd like to do it, I'm hoping for some Lando smut. You can fill in the details, but I want something where Lando is a college player that Y/N hates. But one day y/n somehow sees Lando in just tight, bright boxer briefs that show off his bulge and bum. And basically she gets turned on, and he recognizes it, and he starts to take advantage, dirty talking her, maybe showing off his muscles a little bit. And eventually he gets her in the palm of his hand. And then he has her get on her knees and give him a blowjob. I'm wanting Lando to be be super cocky and in control during the BJ, dirty talking and condescending and making her answer questions about how much she likes his muscles and how big he is. Sorry, this is so horny lol :)

A/N - Changed it slightly from a college AU bc I personally just struggle to write them and added some sweet Lando at the end <3, hope you enjoy anyway my love x

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

He pissed you off, it was the one thing you could always rely on. Every day Lando managed to get on your last nerve, finding his way under your skin. Biting his lip, winking at you, that stupid fucking tongue thing. He knew he was attractive, of course he did, he had no shortage of people telling him so. The problem was how much he abused that, given that you had to spend so much time with him as a member of McLaren you had plenty of firsthand experience.

You’d constantly overhear stories he told his friends on the grid, bragging about his latest conquest in the bedroom. You always rolled your eyes before appearing in the group to whisk Lando away to his next task. This weekend Lando hadn’t said a word about any hookups, instead venting about how frustrated he felt, lacking the sexual release he was craving. You found yourself smirking, glad he was feeling some level of the frustration you felt daily around him.

You found yourself searching the garage for Lando, unable to locate him. He was needed to review the data from FP1 before heading out for FP2 in an hour, but he was nowhere to be seen. Oscar had suggested that maybe he was in his driver's room so you headed off that way. Knocking on the door you ask, "Lando? You in here?" You hear some shuffling inside before Lando responds, "Yeah, come on in." You're glad to hear a slightly happier tone to his voice through the door.

Lowering the handle you push the door open, entering the room before immediately slamming your eyes shut. "Fucking hell Lando, where are your clothes?" You exclaim. Lando laughs, "Relax, I was just getting overstimulated in my fireproofs and the suit. I have underwear on." He tells you. Truth be told you had seen his naked back and panicked, failing to look down and see that technically his lower half was covered. You open your eyes, shamelessly letting the roam the rest of his body.

Lando's body is incredible, his toned calves leading up to muscular thighs. The bulge in his underwear is hard to miss, thick under the fabric of his Calvins. Your eyes rake over his torso, the faint trail of hair leading into his underwear making your thighs squeeze together. You’re drawn in by every mole covering his chest, and the veins straining in his forearms as his arms cross over his chest.

It’s when your eyes reach his crossed arms that you pause, eyes flicking up to his face. You find him already staring back at you, pleased smirk pulling at his lips. His eyebrow quirks as a blush coats your cheeks, “See something you like?” Lando questions, the smile on his face revealing the cute cap between his teeth. You feel your face burning in embarrassment as you stutter out an answer, “No don’t be stupid.”

Lando laughs teasingly, stepping towards you. You move backwards with each stride he takes until you feel your back pressing against the door. Lando’s arms move to cage you in, one tantalisingly close to your hip. You hear the click of the lock, swallowing in nervousness as Lando’s head dips towards your neck. He presses his lips to your skin, smirking when your pulse jumps. Your head tilts back, chest heaving as his tongue licks a stripe up your neck to the base of your ear.

“Care to help me with my dry spell baby?” He whispers against the shell of your ear, his voice making you squeeze your thighs together. You nod and Lando pulls back, “Get on your knees. Want to stuff your pretty little mouth.” You drop to your knees without a moment’s hesitation, internally scolding yourself for giving into him so easily.

“Open your mouth.” Lando commands, smirking as you do exactly what he says. “Gonna have to open wider for me baby.” He continues, large hand grasping your jaw to encourage you. “Tongue out already too, such a whore aren’t you?” He mocks. Your eyes lid at his words, forgetting everything in the world except for him.

He leans down slightly, spitting into your mouth before running his thumb over your tongue. He spreads his spit before you enclose your mouth around his thumb, swallowing gently. He slides his thumb out of your mouth before replacing them with two fingers, relishing in the way your tongue swirls around him. You gag as he pushes deeper, eyes watering.

“How are you gonna please me if you can barely take my fingers honey?” Lando mocks, head tilting to the side. You can barely concentrate, his fingers making you dizzy as you fixate on the way his bicep flexes with each push of his fingers into your mouth. He notices the way you stare, smirking at your ogling.

“You like the muscles do you? I’ve been training harder lately, want you to imagine how my bicep would feel wrapped around your throat while I fuck you from behind.” He mutters, cock twitching at the moan you release around his fingers. He removes them from your mouth, leaving a filthy trail of spit down your chin. He steps out of his underwear, his hard cock slapping up against his stomach.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, bigger and thicker than you expected. Lando smirks, “You can take me don’t worry, sluts like you are so eager to please that you’ll be crying around my cock in seconds.” He notices the way your legs clench at his arrogance, smiling at how needy you are for him. His hand wraps around the base of his cock, tapping the swollen head against the tip of your tongue.

Your eyes flick up to look at his own, smiling at the way they darken. “Oh you’re so filthy aren’t you baby? Just want to make me feel good don’t you?” Lando groans. Your lips close around the head of his cock, tongue flicking against the slit that’s leaking precum. The salty taste coats your tongue, a soft hum bubbling from your throat in response.

Lando’s hips buck at the feeling of the vibrations, “Does my cock taste good Y/N? Is that what’s got you moaning without me even touching you?” His teasing tone causes your pussy to clench around nothing, feeling the way your underwear grows ever wetter. Lando groans at the affirmative moan you release around his cock, stuffing himself deeper into your mouth. You gag as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat, spit beginning to leak out of the sides of your mouth as he thrusts.

"Knew you'd be easy like this, knew that you were just jealous of all those other girls." He comments, large hands lacing in your hair as he continues his assault of your open mouth. "Crying for me already?" He asks, thumb swiping a tear away as it trickles down your cheek. His cock twitches at the sight of you, cheeks flushed, eyes brimming with tears, chin covered in drool. "You gonna take my cum deep in your throat like a whore? Gonna let me use like this from now on, whenever I need it?" Lando's tone becomes increasingly shaky as his thrusts become quicker and shallower.

The taste of his precum coats your tongue further, signaling his incoming orgasm. You slide your hands up the back of his thighs, feeling goosebumps rise on his skin. Your soft hands reach his ass, pushing him into the depths of your mouth. You gag gently and the contraction around his cock is enough to send Lando over the edge with a loud groan. "So fucking good, swallow for me baby." He mutters, ropes of cum spilling down your throat.

You swallow all he gives you eagerly, humming at the taste. Lando pulls out of your mouth before crouching down to your level. He presses his lips gently to your forehead, "That was so good, thank you." You smile up at him, face no doubt ruined by him. He laughs slightly before reaching for a small hand towel. He wipes your face, focusing in on your chin and neck that were coated in spit.

"Use whatever you need to clean up, I'm gonna head to the garage to review the data, which I'm guessing is what you came in here for." Lando explains. "Christ, what do you need me for if you already know where you're supposed to be?" You laugh, standing to examine your face in the mirror.

"Who else is gonna drop to their knees and look pretty like you?" Lando teases with a wink, shutting the door with a click and leaving you alone - blush creeping over your cheeks as you smile.

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arachine · 1 year

Text

૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა ... i'd follow you anywhere .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡ pairing :: neteyam sully x avatar! reader

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ synopsis :: in which reader uses her new avatar body to finally show neteyam just how much she loves him… + based off of this thirst!

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: 18+ (explicit sexual content, explicit language), minimal angst (?), lots of fluff and banter lol

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters aged up to 20, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, dacryphilia (v tame), corruption

ᥫ᭡ word count :: 2.5k

ᥫ᭡ note :: guys this is what happens when i ask for thirsts!!! i get carried away and never know when to stop ;(( anyway, here, have this while i work on my annual dick analysis for jake & quaritch.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Shh, you’ll see, kitty boy,” you giggled, tightening your grip on his wrist.

Neteyam shakes his head, tongue in cheek. He could never say no to you—not that he wanted to…he always wanted to play with you. He’d follow you into the depths of hell, or whatever the na’vi equivalent of hell was. Yeah, he’d follow you there, he thinks—definitely.

The boy relinquishes all of his motor skills to you, allowing you to drag his body further into the forest. He mirrors all of your agile movements, jumping when you jump, running when you run—and then you come to a halt, turning around quickly to face him. You’re so close—too close, the sudden proximity disrupting his equilibrium.

“Don’t go falling for me now,” you grab his forearm before he can fall, pulling him back up with a wink. He scoffs at this, mumbling something sly under his breath. You were always so quick-witted, with quick reflexes to match, too. To anyone else, this would be annoying, but to him, they were your most admirable traits. It’s what made him fall for you.

“Ha, ha, can you tell me what we are doing all the way out here now?” he raises his hands, gesturing to the clearing that you were now standing in. You smile wildly, pursing your lips together in avoidance. The boy reaches behind you to pull your tail, tickling your sides until you surrender.

“Okay, okay, just s-stop it already,” you belt out, “I wanna show you somethin’…gotta be nice to get it, though.” He retracts his hands, letting them fall slowly to his sides. Just what were you planning?

Grabbing his hand this time, you usher him to follow you with a tilt of your head. You lead him to a tree surrounded by shrubbery, a spot that, up until now, only you were privy to its whereabouts. The perfect place for privacy.

Letting go of his hand, you push him down to sit on the forest floor, with his back resting against the bark of the tree and you nestled between his legs. His pulse quickens. What was so important that you needed to drag him so deep into the forest? In such a secluded place, nonetheless.

“I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a while,” you start, voice so low, just barely above a whisper. His eyes squint in confusion, but he remains silent—listening, as to not scare you from continuing.

“You know, growing up in a shack with grown men…you hear a lot of things,” a silence, “things only men talk about.” Your eyes flitter to his, unmoving.

“like, the things they missed doing on Earth, the girls they miss fucking—and what they’d do to have a woman’s lips wrapped their cocks…” The last bit comes out more hushed, gently kissing the shell of his ears. His tail reacts to you before he can, swishing in jagged movements, exposing his excitement.

“Has anyone ever kissed you down there?” your eyes flit to his groin.

He shakes his head eagerly, “No, I have n-never heard of this…nobody has ever…”

“Can I?” you tilt your head, flashing him your best doe-eyes. It was fun teasing him, a feeling that you’d never grow tired of. From first glance, to first introduction, you’d been bound at the hip since you could talk. Everything he did, you did, and vice versa. If you were feeling sick one day and couldn’t play, then shit, he was too. If you wanted to jump off a cliff one day, he’s jumping with you!

His loyalty to you was unyielding, grounding. And as the years passed, and the two of you transitioned from bright-eyed little kids to gangly, awkward teens on the cusp of adulthood, you started to realize something. That you wanted to be all of his firsts.

Determinedly, you set out to do just that. On his thirteenth birthday, you kissed his cheek. A scintilla of your love, stained onto the expanse of his face that served as a mental reminder that this boy was yours—promised to you, and only you.

Then, three more years passed. The boy with the rounded cheeks and toothy smile, had begun to change. It started out slow, though, then the differences became more gradual.

The first to change was his face. What was once round and doughy, had now become slim and sharp. And then it was his physique. No longer was he the awkward child with gangly limbs, and a head too big for his body (as you liked to put it). No, he was much more…different. And each and every one of these changes, a testament to his inevitable journey into adulthood.

On his sixteenth birthday, you kissed him. Once. But in that one kiss, you poured every ounce of love that you’d collected over the years. Every thought, every wish, every yearn, went right into that kiss—another piece of your heart that you carved just for him. For him to have and hold, to keep safe.

And when it was over, you pulled away with a smile, and a dagger of a tongue dipped in poison, ready to deliver heartbreak.

You’re a man now, you uttered. I wanted to give my best friend his first kiss. And that was it, that was all it was ever going to be—because you were human, then. Still a weak, measly, little human who spent all her time living in a false reality, chasing something (someone) that could never really truly be promised to you. Not until you made the change.

So, you waited. And…waited, and waited, and waited until one day you could meet his eye without having to look up, or for him to drop down. You waited until the day when you’d be recognized as his equal.

Today was that day, on his twentieth birthday. And so you ask again.

“Can I kiss you down here?”

He nods. Once, twice, then stutters out an eager yes. Gently you smooth your palm up and over his knee, the skin of his thighs, and then stop beneath the fabric of his loin cloth. Your fingers trace the area teasingly, and you giggle when his hip juts up from the sensation. So sensitive.

Slowly, you remove the cloth from his body, and take him into your hand. He’s semi-hard and leaking pre—and warm. So, so warm. You bring it up to your cheek, rubbing it against the area before turning your head to leave a zephyr-light kiss on his shaft. You kiss it once, then twice, then kiss it again for every year you spent not kissing him.

“What are you doing?” he laughs, “Come on, it tick—hahhh.” A whine vacates from his throat upon you licking a long stripe from the base of his shaft, to the tip of his head. Naturally, his hands find solace atop of your head.

“So dramatic, I didn’t even do anything yet.” This time, you take him into your mouth, forcing him to watch you as more and more of his length disappears into the cavern of your mouth.

Technically, you’d never done this before (save for the few times you practiced on fruit) so it was your first time, just as much as it was his. But he didn’t have to know that. You wanted to appear like you knew what you were doing, or at the very least, like you’d done this before. You try to remember all the things you’ve heard over the years.

1) Girls who used teeth were bad, but girls who flattened their tongues and relaxed their throats were good.

2) Girls who didn’t use spit sucked, but girls who got really messy were good fucks.

3) Girls who didn’t play with balls were lazy, but girls who did knew how to have fun.

So, you use an amalgamation of all of the tips that you garnered. You flatten your tongue, ease your throat so that you can take him farther, until the head of his cock hits your uvula.

“Shhit, mmf,” he breathes, attempting to stifle a moan by digging a hand into the forest soil. Immediately, you grab his hand and place it back onto your head, pulling off of him with a wet pop.

“Keep ‘em here,” your hand fists his length, “want you to use me. Wanna make you feel good, ‘kay?” His dick twitches in your hold, because fuck, the sight before him is almost too much for him to handle.

You, before him on your knees, with your dainty hand wrapped around him, and your face wet with drool. And you want him to what? Use you? To make him feel…good? God, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think this was Eywa playing tricks on his mind. Giving him a taste of euphoria before yanking him back to reality.

He has half a mind to pinch himself, and half mind to poke you, because there’s just no way this is real. Bullshit. But then you’re sinking back down onto him, and swirling your tongue around his head, and using your hands to massage his balls, and—

“Fuck,” his hands reflexively push you down onto his length. His body shivers when the tip of your nose makes contact with his pelvis. You’re so warm, and wet, so inviting, he can’t seem to let go. He keeps you there until you physically can’t fathom it, and pull off of him in search of air.

“That felt…nice,” he says bashfully, “can you do that again?” You nod eagerly, accumulating a generous amount of spit in your mouth to use as a salve, lathering it up and down the length of him before he guides you back to his awaiting cock.

He watches intently as your lips stretch to accommodate him again. Now his hands, which are tangled in your tresses, are moving more confidently. They push and pull you, maneuvering your head gently and at a steady pace, then gradually, they increase their speed.

Neteyam does this a few times and then allows you to take the reins. When you’re ready, you take a deep inhale through your nose, and push yourself down until you feel the weight of him hit the back of your throat. The first time was a bit easier, mostly because your jaw wasn’t as fatigued as it was now, but you persevere anyway.

Inhale, exhale. A mantra that you have to repeat to yourself to distract you from the urge to gag. You try your best to keep your jaw relaxed and your throat open by digging your nails into the fat of his thighs.

When you look up at him, there’s an elated expression molded onto his face. His head is thrown back against the tree, hair strewn about with tendrils sticking to his forehead, and his eyes are shut closed.

He looks…so beautiful. That’s when you feel a tear ribbon down your face and onto his thigh. You’re unsure if it’s because of the air steadily leaving your brain, or if it’s because of how pretty he looks right now—all sweaty, slick with your drool.

You settle on the former. It had to be the air. Eventually, your lungs give out and you have to take a breather. The sudden loss of warmth forces his eyes open, and then they fall on your face. Your eyes. Doe-eyed and clouded. Cheeks stained with tears.

“Pretty.” Is all he says, bringing up a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You work him the rest of the way with the iota of energy you have left, concentrating on the head of his cock while your hand fists him to climax.

His abs begin to tremble and flex when you switch between hollowing your cheeks and massaging his balls. A visual indication that he was close to coming.

“Waitwaitwait, it feels like,” he’s panicked, trying to push you away. You dodge his attempts to remove you and continue your assault, only this time, you gently apply pressure to his perineum. Unceremoniously, he pushes your head down to the hilt and you moan around him from the force.

The vibrations from your throat makes his head feel all fuzzy. He’s so close, on the precipice of euphoria. And your hands—that are still situated on his thighs—rub the expanse of them reassuringly, coaxing him to finish right on your tongue.

With a final lazy piston, he comes into your mouth, and the warm, salty seed that you’d been anticipating leaks down the column on your throat. Moans tumble from his lips, along with hushed expletives, and he’s shaking. The cords of muscle beneath your palm tense and flex before regressing to their natural, relaxed state.

You remove your mouth promptly and rise to your haunches, making sure that his eyes are locked onto yours as you stick out your tongue to show him his seed.

“No, do not swallow that, I didn’t mea—“ Disobeying his wishes, you do it anyway. Swallowing it all all down and making it a point that you did so by sticking your tongue out again. His tail flicks in response, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Why did you do that? It’s dirty,” he caresses your cheek, wiping away the leftover spent from your mouth.

“‘Cause I wanted to…” You counter. “And it’s not dirty, you tasted good.”

Neteyam rolls his eyes at this, like him tasting good is too hard for him to believe.

“Don’t believe me? Here, try it.” And then you give him the gift that you had gifted to him all those years ago. A kiss. It’s equal parts sweet and needy, different from the first time it happened, but that’s because it was supposed to be. You wanted him to know exactly what you meant. No more waiting. No more pining.

When you draw back, breathless and dizzy, he’s still stuck in a stupor. Lips jutted out and waiting for you to kiss him again. Again, again, again. He opens his eyes, and sees you staring back at him.

“See, I told yo—“ He takes a fist full of your hair and connects his lips to yours. This is him returning the gift. Letting you know that he got the message, loud and clear, and that it was reciprocated. Every ounce of love that flows through his heart is poured into your own; he hopes you can feel it.

“I told you not to fall for me,” you whisper, looking up at him with an avian flutter of your lashes. Neteyam’s hands find solace on the sides of your cheeks, and then he speaks.

“I think I fell for you a long time ago.” Warmth washes over you, his sweet words and strong hands overriding all of your cognitive functions. Specifically, the one in charge of keeping you calm and collected.

“Good, ‘cause I think you’re gonna fall for me a lot harder when you see what I have planned for you later.”

“What’s later?”

“Shh, what fun would it be if I told the birthday boy the surprise?” You grin cheekily, unaware of the way your tail swishes from side to side as you say it. Neteyam knows you’re up to no good, but he doesn’t care. He’d follow you anywhere, after all.

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