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hor3nee · 4 months

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• Life •

Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.

CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Sukuna x Reader

AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic

Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.

And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.

To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.

The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.

Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.

Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.

Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.

"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.

"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.

"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.

"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.

Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.

Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.

But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.

"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.

"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.

"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.

That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.

His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.

"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #dad!sukuna #jjk #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #no use of y/n #true form sukuna #dad sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna jjk

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sweet-as-an-angel · 4 months

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so! you mentioned in the 'p0rn preferences' post that Gaz is not the one who jerks off the most in the 141, and I humbly ask you, who would that be?

I don't mean this as a request, just a little discussion, cause I feel like Soap would just be going at it at any chance possible, like a bunny. he probably doesn't care much if someone hears it, but that's just me thinking too much into it.

Who Jerks off the Most in the 141 + König

Warnings: 18+, Heavy Mentions of Masturbation, Male Masturbation, Implied Reader in Individual Headcanons, Accidental and Implied Voyeurism, Edging, Brief Mention of Injury, Men Who Moan <3, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.

A/N: As per Anon's question (which I just had to turn into a post of its own) I present to you the list of the 141 members (and König) who jerk off from the most to least <3

Soap

I have to agree with you here, Anon - Johnny is most definitely the king of self love when it comes to the 141.

He doesn't much care where he is or who he's with; when he has to satisfy his needs, he'll do so.

Though, he'll spare whoever's with him the sight of watching him throwing his head back, trying to stifle his moans behind gritted teeth whilst the wet sound of his hand slipping up and down the length of his shaft fill the room.

Unless they want to.

For one reason or another, he's nigh-insatiable when it comes to his libido, and the fact that his stamina affords him the luxury of beating himself off until his cum is practically translucent doesn't help.

The slightest thing can set him off.

Someone brushing past him ? Hard.

Someone stroking his ego a little too enthusiastically ? Bricked up.

He sees something that's shaped to be a little too curvy or phallic ? Stiff as a pole.

He remembers something mildly suggestive you did three years ago in that restaurant ? He's going to the Horny Realm.

Yes, his teammates have complained about his incessant moaning-come-grunting-come-whimpering through all hours of the night, his voice contorting through a spectrum of desperation and Johnny always ending up spent and overstimulated by the time the sun comes up.

And then he's ready to do it all again the second night touches the horizon line, giving his teammates a knowing smile when he walks into the room sporting nothing else save for a pair of boxers and a monster that looks to be trying to tear itself free from them.

Gaz

Dude's young. Of course he's throttling that rooster on a nigh-daily basis.

The only reason he's not at it as much as Soap is because he likes to believe he still has a few threads of his self-restraint intact.

He doesn't.

Especially when it comes to you (regardless of whether you're dating yet or not).

But he doesn't need to know that.

Honestly, the only thing that separates him from Johnny's unmatched libido is the fact that it takes a little more than the slightest provocation to get Gaz going.

Albeit, that line is a thin one.

If he so much as accidentally sees something explicit for upwards of three seconds, he's hard.

The only advantage of his need for satisfaction is the speed with which he can achieve it.

He and Johnny actually timed each other once to see who could get off the fastest.

Gaz won. Though, only by a slim margin.

Needless to say, that made for a rather interesting conversation with the Captain when he walked in on two of his best soldiers sat panting on the edge of their cots, an almost-translucent spray spattered across their stomachs, eyes half-lidded and hazy.

Ghost

The third-in-line for the Throttle Throne is none other than our beloved Ghost.

Unlike Johnny and Gaz, Ghost is more likely to leave himself alone at the first sign of trouble, toughing it out until he can will his mind to less lustful pastimes.

He won't make his jacking off known to anyone, either, often doing it in the shower where the water beats down so harshly that no sound can be heard for the water's fall.

That, and he's a master at keeping his voice low, no matter the circumstances.

More often than not, Simon makes quick work of jerking off purely because it’s a means to an end. However, if it’s you he’s thinking of, he’s much more likely to take his time — to immerse himself in the fantasy of your body around his, taking him so well in one capacity or another. Fucking yourself dumb on his cock.

During these times, he’s thorough — much more likely to edge himself, to throw his head back and growl between gritted teeth, to savour the sensation coiling in his stomach, his balls growing tight.

Otherwise, he’ll stroke one out as quickly as he can, getting back to business as usual.

And to look at him, on the surface, you'd never know that he just spent the last three minutes rubbing one out in the bathroom (yes, he is also a contender for first place in the 'Who Can Jack Off The Quickest Competition', but he'll never allow Johnny or Gaz the luxury of witnessing his unprecedented skill; that's for your eyes only).

Until he corners you, breathing down your neck, scolding you for tempting him - a man whose restraint lies only in his ability to hold off from reducing you to an exponential reflection of his prior state, breathless and covered in fluids.

König

Have you seen the size of that thing ? Man should be in the olympics for being able to throw that weight around.

Similarly to Ghost, König only gets himself off when it's absolutely necessary.

Only if he doesn't have you lying around to help him, of course.

Though, he lets himself have a bit of fun with it. Especially if it's been a tough day.

He's vocal, too. Though he tries not to be.

He just can't help it. Days' - maybe even weeks' - worth of unspent adrenaline and semen is hardly any way for a soldier like König to go about his life. So, he expels it in the privacy of quite literally any isolated space he can find.

König is not an adventurous spirit by any means when it comes to self pleasure, but when needs must, he's willing to shoulder the weight of the prospect that someone on his team could walk in at any second and catch him spraying his stomach or the wall white with, let's face it, thick ropes of cum.

Hong-Jin's actually caught him doing that before now.

That's actually how the two became friends: Horangi heard König grunting in the store cupboard and, knowing how stubborn his Colonel was with letting others know when he was injured, sought him out. Wanted to offer his help.

Catching Colonel König in the act of throwing his head back whilst growling the name '(Y/N)' into the darkest corner of the room was, suffice it to say, not what Horangi had been expecting.

Price

You just know he's cool with it. And by 'cool', I mean incredibly intentional, controlled, and not ravenous in the ways our other favourite military princesses are.

Sure, Price has gotten hard on the job a few times.

Who hasn't ?

But thanks to his level head, unwavering devotion to his work, and absolute refusal to acknowledge that he did, in fact, get a little bit of a chub during a shoot-out, he's managed to gain control over every facet of his body.

Until he comes home to you, of course.

Until he's able to loom over you like an omen and run his hands down your sides, stopping at your hips and pressing kisses that become more open-mouthed the further down the side of your neck he dips.

Pressing his hips into yours. Something demands your attention.

There have been very few occasions where a cold shower wasn't a quick enough fix for him.

When the days of having you milk him are too far out of sight, he's had to suffice with his own hands before now. Had to imagine - remember - what yours felt like in his place, your lips curled up as he gripped the chair arms, breathless as he moaned into the warm tones of your shared apartment.

But don't worry ! He'll be sure to catch you up on everything you've missed while he's been away once he returns.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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eiightysixbaby · 1 month

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older! eddie finally having enough of reader calling him old man and he decides to show her how much of an old man he really is😏😏😏

“old man yeah?” he says grinning ear to ear when you whine pathetically underneath him, “wanna say that again?” he coos

18+ only pleaaaase!

The ball rolls down the lane, heavy and awkward, knocking into the pins and only sending a couple falling.

“That was possibly the worst throw of the night, Munson!” Robin says, smiling proudly when Eddie glares at her.

He groans, swiveling his arm to stretch out his shoulder.

“Not fair, this shit used to be easy. ‘S fuckin’ killing my shoulder tonight,” he comments, picking up his bottle of beer and clinking it with the top of Steve’s in a sort of pity toast to his bad turn.

“Oh, come on, old man!” you tease, standing to take your turn. You pick up your bowling ball from the bunch, giving Eddie a devious glance. “Let me show you how it’s done, sans any shoulder pain or back pain or pain in any other body part,” you smirk, earning a laugh from Steve.

“Ouch,” he says. “She’s got you there, Ed. Shoulder pain, really? When we’re not even halfway through this game.”

“Oh fuck off, Harrington. Wasn’t it two nights ago I saw you buying Epsom salts complaining about sore muscles? From a day at the pool with your kids?”

“Listen, the amount of times I had to pick them up and toss them into the water—”

You giggle, letting the two of them bicker as you take your turn. You let the ball go in a more elegant manner than Eddie, standing at the end of the lane as you wait to see the outcome. Sure enough, all ten pins fall with a scattered crash, and you bounce up and down eagerly.

“Woo!” Robin and Steve cheer, Eddie rolling his eyes as you high-five them.

“Alright, sweetheart, so you think you’re the superior bowler?” he asks, pulling you against him.

“I know I am, old man,” you draw out the last two words, pressing a polished finger to his chest. “Unless you really think you can show me up. But I wouldn’t want you hurting that shoulder while you try,” you pout, seeing the way the look in his eyes changes at your teasing. “Can’t have you doing too much… physical activity.”

“Alright, so that’s how you want to be, hm?” he asks, his voice low. “Just wait ‘til we get home, darling.”

The comment makes you shiver, his figure slipping away from you as soon as the words are out of his mouth. You watch him leave to get another drink, your mouth slightly agape as film reels run through your head, showcasing the activities that probably await you when you return home. Chewing on your lip, you return to your seat next to Robin, knowing full well you’re going to get under Eddie’s skin as much as you possibly can before the night is over.

Stumbling through the door just before midnight, a couple shitty bowling-alley-bar mixed drinks in your system, Eddie’s got his finger hooked in the waistband of your too-tight jeans, pulling you into him.

“That was real fucking cute, the way you kept mocking me all night,” he rasps, his warm breath fanning your ear, his lips barely grazing the shell of it. “If I had to hear you call me an old man one more time, I swear I was going to put you in the car and fuck you right there in the parking lot,” he says, kissing at your jaw.

You whine a little, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access.

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks, knowing the answer.

“Ed—” you pant, trying to paw at the buckle on his jeans.

“It is, god of course it’s what you wanted. I know your angles, baby,” he purrs, his voice dripping with lust.

He presses a hot kiss to your mouth, his tongue licking against your teeth. Your hands climb up his back, clawing at the fabric of his shirt as if your plan is to rip it off of him. He picks you up, carrying you down the hallway without breaking the kiss. He’s tossing you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off, exposing his modest muscles from years of hard work at the shop. You never tire of looking at the tattoos that decorate his pale skin, the ink fading with time.

He’s undoing his belt while you’re stripping bare on his bed, feeling your face heat when you catch him staring at your tits.

“Damn, I’m going to fuck the absolute shit out of you tonight,” he breathes, smiling boyishly, betraying his age despite the soft wrinkles in his face.

“Are you?” you ask, one final taunt, pushing him over the edge.

“Oh, sweetheart. G’na have you crying for me,” he says, moving to hover on top of you on the bed. “You’re not gonna be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe.

It’s quick and without warning when he slips two fingers inside of you, making you mewl as your hands tangle in his hair. He curls them expertly, he knows your body like the back of his hand by now, knows exactly what to do to have you screaming for him.

His eager mouth licks and sucks on your breasts, tugging your nipples gently with his teeth as your back arches. Your body accepts a third finger from him easily, sucking him right in as wet, filthy noises fill the bedroom.

“Eddie,” you whine, already on the edge of your orgasm. Your breathing is heavy, eyes pinched shut beneath him as he works you to your breaking point.

You cum around his fingers with a cry, body shaking violently as he works you through it. You feel like you’re on fire, his touch igniting every inch of you. All you want is more.

“Old man, huh?” Eddie muses as you come down from your first high of the evening. “Looks like this old man still knows how to please. So do you wanna call me that again, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, knowing you’re already in for quite the night.

“Good,” he says, dipping down to kiss your lips, your jaw, your neck. “Cause we’re just getting started.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #leah’s got mail 💌

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starkwlkr · 2 months

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bitch, i’m a mother! | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) the reader is around the same age as daniel. i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance

part 1 part 3

Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK

“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.

“Hey, Lando!”

“Lando! How’s it going?”

“Norris, hey!”

Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.

“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”

“There’s a big chance I might be here.”

Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”

As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.

“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.

“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.

“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.

“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.

The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”

“Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.

“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.

“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.

“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.

“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”

It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.

“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.

Charlie Hunnam, actor.

Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?

“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.

“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.

“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.

After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”

Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.

“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”

“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Oh.

“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.

“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.

“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.

Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”

“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”

Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.

“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.

Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.

“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.

“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”

“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.

“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.

“I love all my grid sons equally.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #f1 one shot #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #platonic #f1 x female reader

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lovebugism · 4 months

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if you're still interested in smutty requests.. what about the line "want me to serenade you while you strip?" and it's eddie jokingly saying this to reader and she runs with it and he tries to keep playing but COME ON there's more important things those fingers should be doing 👀

congrats! u win the award for most eddie coded request of all time :D — eddie makes you laugh when you get nervous undressing in front of him (18+, allusion to smut, 0.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

“Stop looking at me like that!” you whine with your arms crossed over your nearly bare chest. “You’re making it weird!”

Eddie laughs loud. “Where am I supposed to look?” he asks, leaning back on the mattress and propping his weight on his elbows. He’s got a better view of you from this angle. More of your half-naked body in his sight.

“I can feel you looking at me— It’s making me feel weird.”

“Well, how am I supposed to look anywhere else when you’re in front of me like this, huh?”

His eyes are lidded and swimming with melted chocolate. You’re not sure how you’ve captured his attention like this, in the tamest underwear you own and your most ancient bra. He’s looking at you like you’re already undressed — like you’re still pretty even though you aren’t.

“You’re an idiot,” you giggle, glittering with adoration.

“And you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he quips without thinking twice, wild head titled to his shoulder and a crooked smirk on his kissed mouth. “So I guess we’re even.”

His eyes rake over you again, heavy like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen you.

He pulls his plush lip between his teeth and, almost absentmindedly so, brings his palm to the crotch of his jeans. He grips his covered cock with a pale hand, shifting it slightly within the confines of the denim. It grows slowly and achingly stiff the longer he looks at you.

Eddie looks like a Renaissance painting like this. Ethereal and hedonistic. You almost forget to breathe.

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” you say with a forced laugh.

“You’re half-naked in my bedroom, doll— that’s all you need to do,” he chuckles, golden and more sincere than yours. His ringed fingers clutch tighter at his covered bulge. He breathes hard through his nose. “You could be fully clothed, and you’d still turn me on.”

“Stop messing with me,” you argue in a tiny voice, features twisted in a subtle pout.

“I’m not messing with you.”

“Do you want me to get naked? Or should I just stand here for the next two minutes?”

“Two minutes? C’mon. Give me a little credit. At least, two-and-a-half,” Eddie jokes. And then, when you laugh, he assures you. “You don’t have to get undressed if it makes you uncomfortable. Unless it would make you feel better if I serenaded you—”

“No.”

“—Too late.”

You reach your arms for the clasp of your bra. Eddie’s voice fills the trailer — “do, do, do, do-do-do-do-do-do” — the high-pitched intro to “I Was Made for Loving You.” It makes you laugh loud. A big, girlish laugh that makes your head drop back.

Your bra comes off, and you forget to be nervous.

“Why are you laughin’ at me, huh?” Eddie jokes, eyes going squishy around the edges when he looks at you.

“‘Cause that’s, like, the least sexiest part of that song.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, are you gonna keep singing, superstar? Or am I gonna have to keep my underwear on?”

He goes dumb for a flash of a second, forgets the lyrics and how to form the words of them in his mouth. He jumbles them together for a second in mindless mumbles until the real thing spills from his lips. “—‘Cause girl, you were made for me… And girl, I was made for you…”

You tug your panties down your thighs while he sings for you. You make a big show of it too, tossing the pair of them into your lover’s lap and giggling when it gets him all flustered.

“Fuck— c’mere,” he urges, as dumb as he is breathless, now that you’re fully naked in front of him. His hand drops to his lap again, palming at his stiffening length to ease the ache there. His free hand reaches out for you. “Can you— Just come sit in my lap, baby, please.”

You don’t know why he’s groveling. You were breaking the second you saw him melting for you. Not thinking straight enough to tease him about it, you settle yourself over his lap — kneeling on the mattress, both of your thighs straddling one of his.

You linger there, just above him. Eddie’s ringed hands reach gently for your warm jaw to pull you closer to him. You don’t give in so easily — “Keep singing for me, rockstar. You got a show to warm up for, remember?”

Eddie blinks up at you, eyes wide and lidded and honeyed. He looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky. Like you’re some ethereal being carved out of stone. Like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen because you are.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath. “This is so fucking metal.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

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charliemwrites · 3 months

Text

…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?

Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.

Maybe you watched too many movies.

Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.

Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.

In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.

Things like,

Still young, I want to explore…

How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?

Last bit of freedom before being tied down…

If you love me and our relationship…

You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.

An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.

You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.

You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.

Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.

It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.

Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.

The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.

“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”

You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.

The perfect place to be out but alone.

You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.

“Love that one.”

You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.

“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”

You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”

He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”

He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…

“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.

He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”

Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.

You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.

You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.

You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.

He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.

Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.

“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”

You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.

“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.

Kyle frowns. “What about you?”

You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.

“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”

Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.

“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”

You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.

“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”

His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #poly 141 #open relationship trope #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader

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weird-and-unwell · 3 months

Text

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

#actually autistic #autistic #long post #autism

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initialchains · 4 months

Text

would you? | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke slowly starts to lose himself but that won’t stop you from reminding him of what truly matters.

wc: 2.6k

warnings: some manipulating and gaslighting if you squint and probably spoilers for the first book but they’re not explicitly mentioned.

a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS !! here’s luke as a gift <33 i’ve never written for luke before but he’s my favorite pjo character bc hes such an interesting and complex character aghh. sorry if this isnt as fluffy as you would all want, i promise i’m working on some real luke fluff.

The rays of the rising sun made the lake look far more beautiful than it always does. Sure, you were used to the warm tones that always engulfed Camp Half-Blood and it’s not like the weather ever really changed, at least not unless the gods willed it to, but the colors of the sun reflecting on the lake, the low hum of the wood nymphs singing, and the distant sounds of laughter coming from campers playing volleyball were strangely comforting.

Well, as comforting as it can be when you’re trying to find some quiet in the neverending fight that was the demigod life. It gets tiring, it always does. The fighting, the studying, the adoration of gods who didn’t even bother to give their children a sign of them caring. It was all so exhausting.

But there was peace in this small moment. You were sat in front of the lake, your legs crossed as you closed your eyes, trying to enjoy the tranquility of it all. The calm moment didn’t dare to stop your hand from finding a home in the clay beads of your camp necklace and twirling them around, a seemingly normal act to anyone who saw you, that actually was a sign of you being aware of your surroundings, a small sign of the fear you carried around, a fear that had you always prepared to draw your sword in any given moment. Not ever fully in peace. Not unless Luke was there.

“So you decided to start your morning without me? Ouch,” You turned your head at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, “A knock on my cabin’s door would’ve been enough, you know?”.

“Yeah? And risk waking the million campers that sleep in there? No, thank you. I would like to stay alive for a few more years, please.” You replied with a small smile, looking up to meet Luke’s eyes, his scar being more prominent in the morning, a red color adorning the edges of it.

He snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes before taking a seat next to you. He was silent for a moment until he muttered softly, “This is a nice view.”

“Oh, definitely. The lake always looks beautiful when the sun hits it the right way. I need to give the Apollo cabin their congratulations and some flowers for having a talented father.” You answered, your hand moving away from your necklace to hold Luke’s.

“Of course, you make my pick-up line about the gods. Can you give me a win over here? I’m trying my best.” He said with a smirk before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. It was a strange sort of thing he always did, even before you two started dating, he’d always find an excuse to hold your hand and give it a quick kiss.

“I wasn’t going to let you get away with using a corny pick-up line on me, Castellan. At least be original with it.” A giggle escaped your lips, “Also, everything is about the gods, I thought you’d be used to it by this point.”

His face fell for a fleeting second, but he was quick to mask it with a small smile. “Right, everything always is about the gods.” Luke’s eyes moved away from your face, nervously glancing at the lake after his statement.

You frowned when you heard the tone he used, he sounded almost.. bitter? You couldn’t even explain it. Luke had been acting weird ever since the camp came back from their annual visit to Mount Olympus on the winter solstice. At first, you thought it had something to do with Hermes being a total dick and ignoring him the entire night, not even bothering to give his son a pat on the back or a nod. But you’ve known Luke long enough to know he was past caring about what his father did, he was indifferent to what Hermes did–to what any of the gods did.

The two of you were silent, sitting side by side in front of the lake in deep thought. He was thinking about gods know what, and you were busy trying to understand what was going on inside his mind. You decided to break the silence first, “You okay?”.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

He was quick to answer. It was almost as if he had rehearsed it and had it scripted beforehand. It was almost as if someone else had told him what to answer. As if he was under someone else's guidance. Under someone else's control.

“Are you sure? Because it feels like you’re.. I don't know, keeping something from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you. I’m not keeping a single thing.”

“Right. Sorry for asking.”

Luke closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand through his hair and took some deep breaths, his chest moving up and down in a nonexistent rhythm, it was urgent and angry. He took a few more breaths, trying to calm himself before finally meeting your eyes again.

“I’ve told you countless times to never apologize to me if you haven’t done anything wrong,” He reminded you of the conversation you’ve had millions of times, “Don’t ever apologize to me if you haven’t physically hurt me or something, alright? You’re fine. We’re fine.”

He continued, “I’d trust you with my life given the chance. I’m not keeping anything from you, angel. You have to trust me.”

“I do.”

You didn’t see your boyfriend at all the following days. He always brushed you off by being busy with training or helping Annabeth plan for this week’s capture the flag. You weren’t the only one to notice his slight change of temper and personality, some campers from the Hermes cabin noticed it too.

He kept pushing harder on his siblings, always insisting on them doing better. He was more violent than usual during capture the flag, not thinking about it twice before proving why he is the most talented swordsman in the last 300 years.

There was also this one time he volunteered to spar with a new camper.. it didn’t go well. He kept doing new maneuvers and techniques most campers didn’t even recognize, refusing to go easy on the poor thirteen year old girl. When you asked him about it, confused at the way he went too hard on the newbie, he answered with a dry “Where’s the glory in that? She needs to be prepared for what’s about to come.” It sounded as if he knew some kind of danger was approaching. As if it was a matter of life and death for the camper to learn how to fight against him.

You decided it was enough when you saw him skipping his daily chat with Annabeth, deciding he would rather sit by himself on the steps of the Big House for a little while.

The walk from your cabin to the Big House was filled with self-doubt and twirling the beads of your necklace, you were nervous to face your boyfriend, which was stupid because he was the last person you’d ever expect to feel nervous with. When you arrived to the steps of the Big House and saw him sitting there, your mind went completely blank.

You sat next to him and asked the first thing that came to your mind, “Would you rather fight 3000 ant-sized chimeras or a chimera-sized ant?”.

An amused laugh bubbled up from Luke’s chest before he turned his head to face you, a smile taking over his handsome face. “I’ll take the 3000 chimeras, no doubt.”

You smiled back at him, ready to ask him the question you spent the last thirty minutes planning, but before you could open your mouth he said, “Would you rather not be able to consume ambrosia and nectar for the rest of your life or.. see Mr. D without a shirt?”

You threw your head back with laughter, your face going red thanks to the lack of air in your lungs due to the laughs coming out of you, “I’d rather bleed to death without ambrosia than see Mr. D with a shirt.”

“Ditto.”

You decided to indulge in this back-and-forth game, after all, you hadn’t been able to have a real conversation with your boyfriend in days... you’ll take what you can get, “Would you rather not be able to leave camp ever again or turn against the gods?”

“It would be boring to spend the rest of my life capturing a flag and growing strawberries… so I guess my answer is pretty obvious.” He answered while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You’d choose to turn against the gods?”

“Yup.”

“Huh, I guess capture the flag would be pretty hard when you’re pushing 90.”

Luke was silent, running his eyes through your face before asking, “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He took a deep breath before replying, “Turn against the gods.”

You were silent for a few seconds, biting your lip and staring into Luke’s eyes, wondering if there was a right answer to this metaphorical question. You decided to give him an answer he’d like but also an answer you meant, “I’d go wherever you go. It doesn’t matter if it is a farm in the middle of nowhere or to the pits of Tartarus. If you’re there... count me in.”

Luke cleared his throat and a serious look took over his face, “Sure, but if the time to make a choice came… would you go against them?”.

His persistence to try and get you to answer his question was making you nervous. The more he asked you about it, the more it looked like he was genuinely considering it.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you nervously played with one of the beads on your camp necklace. He took notice of it. Of course he did, he knew more about you than anyone, probably even more than you know yourself.

Luke stayed silent at that, a somber look taking over his features, you could tell there was a turmoil happening inside his head. It was almost as if he wanted to let you in on a secret, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I... um. Well, I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon—at least not in our lifetime. But like I said, I’d go wherever you go, to Tartarus and back.”

That brought a smile to Luke’s face, he looked into your eyes, probably looking for signs of you lying but finding none, and took your hand away from your necklace, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “To Tartarus and back, baby.”

He brought your hands down before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. There was a sense of necessity to feel your lips against his, he kissed you like the feeling of your lips was his only shot at salvation. He raised his hand to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss, craving the heat he only got whenever he kissed you.

You stopped him before he could take the kiss any further, “Luke, we’re in the middle of camp. There are children around us, if you want to make out at least take me to our spot behind the stables. Holy shit.”

Luke took a second to steady his breathing, “Sorry, angel. I’ll make sure to keep your suggestion in mind for later, though.”

“Shut the hell up, Castellan.”

The two of you spent the rest of your day being busy working on your own stuff. Luke was still sparring with some campers who were brave enough to go against him, and you were hanging out with the Dionysus cabin while they helped grow more strawberries.

You found Chris sitting in the amphitheater and asked him if he had seen your boyfriend, he replied with an annoyed, “He’s probably in bed or something, I don’t know.” You decided to not ask Chris if he was okay and walked straight to the Hermes cabin.

A knock on the wooden door was enough to wake your boyfriend up, you were aware of it when you heard a muffled, “Come in”. You found Luke sitting on his bed, his sword in hand while he sharpened it.

So he wasn’t asleep at all, you thought.

“Careful with the sharp part of the blade.” He looked up from his sword when he heard your melodic voice, your words snapping him out of the trance he was in.

“Oh, hi.” Luke put the sword down next to his bunk and moved to lie down, leaving a space next to him for you to join him. He hummed when you laid down next to him, giving a kiss to his shoulder blade and wrapping your arms around his torso.

He turned to face you, pressing his lips to your forehead with a soft sigh. His eyes closed at the sensation while his hands traveled to your back, looking for ways to hold you closer. His features relaxing when he finally touched your skin.

You couldn’t keep this weird tension going on between you two, so you decided to bite first, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Once again, he replied in an almost scripted and mechanical way, “Talk about what?”

“The winter solstice visit, you’ve been acting.. different ever since we came back to camp.”

Luke stiffened next to you, it made your heart drop. You’ve been dating him for a year now, and he had never been this cold—this uncomfortable around you.

“I just... I think things are about to change.” He replied in a low murmur, his eyes closing again when you brought your hand up to caress his face, softly tracing his scar with your thumb in a delicate and loving way. Luke let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he felt your fingers on his skin.

A smirk made its way to your face, “Change? yeah, in your dreams, Castellan. Campers will keep arriving and only 5 percent of them will get claimed, and the others will get thrown into your cabin.. like things always are and always will be. That’s not changing anytime soon.”

Luke’s hand traced up and down your back in a soothing manner, “Yeah, maybe they won’t. Forget I even said that.”

“Just because they won’t change, it doesn’t mean we have to accept it, you know?”Luke's eyes snapped up from your hands to meet your gaze, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re all on the same team here. Sure, the gods will never claim most of the campers and we will all probably die before we’re old enough to have children of our own... but is that really all that matters? We have each other. We don’t need them as long as we have the people we love with us.”

Luke tilted his head to the right to press a kiss to the palm of your hand that was caressing his cheek, “I don’t need the gods as long as I have you.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page, Castellan.”

The two of you went out for a small walk by the lake and sat together in the dining pavilion at night. Your small conversation probably made Luke feel better because he was quick to go back to being himself, he kept greeting every camper he saw and holding your hand, not forgetting to kiss the back of it whenever he had the chance.

Maybe it was you reassuring him about the love you had for him or maybe it was him being aware of you being willing to drop the gods at any time just to be with him, but he was completely normal during the following days, weeks, and months.

You were sure of it when you saw him walking around with the new arrival five months later, Luke seemed so excited to be showing him around. You greeted the new camper with a small smile when he introduced himself with a “Hi, I’m Percy Jackson.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #magnolia’s fics!

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newtkive · 3 months

Text

confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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beskarandblasters · 3 months

Text

And they were “roommates”

Abby Anderson x F!Reader x Ellie Williams

Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist

*Important post regarding TLOU + Neil Druckmann’s Zionism!Please educate yourselves, folks!*

Author’s note: Thank you to @proxima-writes for the idea! And thank you to @amanitacowboy for beta reading and giving me the push to write this 🤍

Summary: The rent is too damn high in Seattle, forcing you to look for roommates. When you spot an ad on Craigslist for two women looking for someone to fill their third bedroom, you decide to take them up on the offer.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU, the year is not specified, Ellie is 21, reader is 23, Abby is 25, bi!reader, Abby “no homo” Anderson, threesome, fingering, oral sex, strap sucking, strap fucking (reader and Ellie receiving) sub!Ellie, sub!reader (but also switch leaning), dom!Abby, squirting, cum eating, orgasm delay/denial, pet names (good girl, baby), no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

Living in Seattle has taught you two things: the rent is too damn expensive and having a roommate is crucial. So as your lease on your current apartment is about to end, you scour the internet for a new place and a roommate. And that’s when you find the perfect ad on Craigslist.

“Wanted: One roommate to move into the third bedroom of our apartment. Women only. Rent will be split between the three of us. For more information, contact Ellie Williams at 206-333-5522”

The words that caught your eye were women only. It seems promising enough. Doesn’t hurt to give this Ellie person a call.

You pick up your phone and dial the number for Ellie, half expecting the ad to be fake and to hear a man’s voice on the other side of the line.

But you were wrong.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice answers. You estimate she’s somewhere in her mid-twenties.

“Hi, I just saw your ad on Craigslist? For a roommate?”

“Oh, right. Well, first tell me a little bit about yourself and then we can set up a time for you to come see the place.”

You tell her your name and say, “Well, uh, I’m an intern at the Seattle Times. I’m twenty-three. And my lease is ending at my current apartment.”

“Okay. I’m Ellie and my roommate is Abby. I’m twenty-one and Abby’s twenty-five. I work at the planetarium at the Pacific Science Center and she’s a personal trainer… Can I ask why you’re not renewing your lease at your current place?”

“Too expensive.”

“What are you paying now?”

“About fifteen hundred a month.”

“Oh, you’ll get a much better deal here. Twenty-one hundred a month split three ways.”

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah, we lucked out with this place. But we need another roommate as soon as possible. When do you want to come look at the apartment?”

“Are you free this afternoon?”

“This afternoon?”

“Unless that’s too short notice-”

“That’s fine. What time?”

“Around five or so? It’ll be after Abby’s out of work.”

You pull the phone away from your ear and glance at the time— two in the afternoon. You’ve still got a few hours.

“Sure. What’s the address?”

“505 Walnut Street. We’ll meet you outside.”

That’s only a couple of streets over from you. It should be an easy move if this works out.

“Sounds good. See you then.”

“See you then,” she repeats before hanging up.

To kill time until the meeting, you look up the building on Google. It’s a cute, older brick building with a lot of charm, in a nice neighborhood, too. But as five o’clock rolls around, you leave your apartment and start to walk to theirs. You hope it goes well and that both of them seem to like you. You’ve never had a roommate before, not even in college. And going from no roommates to two is a big jump.

You turn the corner onto Walnut Street, walking on the even side of the street. Two women are standing in front of the brick building you saw online, presumably Ellie and Abby. The taller one, who has to be Abby judging by how buff she is, notices you coming their way and points you out to the shorter one, making that one Ellie.

“Nice to meet you,” the shorter one says, holding out her hand, “I’m Ellie.”

As you shake her hand you notice the tattoo on her forearm; a moth with a fern. She’s cute with shoulder-length auburn hair and green eyes. She seems nice enough. Ellie gestures to the other one and says, “This is Abby.”

Abby shakes your hand and you’re amazed at the sheer size of her. Her handshake is solid, the palm of her hand covered with callouses, presumably from weights at the gym.

“Nice to meet you both,” you say, followed by your name.

Ellie leads you inside and Abby follows behind, holding the door open for you.

“It’s up a few flights of stairs,” Ellie says, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Fine by me.”

It’s a fourth-floor walk-up, coincidentally the top floor, too. Ellie lets you inside and from what you can see already fifteen hundred dollars it’s a steal. She leads you through the apartment, starting in the kitchen and to the living room. Down the hallway are the bedrooms and the bathroom. She shows you the bathroom first then what would be your bedroom. You take a look around. It’s big enough to hold most if not all of your furniture from your current room. But then you also think about the furniture you’ll have to get rid of since they have things like a kitchen table and a living room couch already. The thought has you stressed and now you’re fixating on just how you’re going to move out and get rid of your shit.

“Do you like it?” Abby asks the first time she’s addressed you. You look her in the eye, and notice more about her; her blue eyes, the freckles spread across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks, and how shiny her skin is, most likely from sweat. You think about her working out and the thought has you staring off into space.

“Is that a yes?” she chuckles, snapping you from your thoughts.

“I do! Sorry, I was thinking about where my stuff would go… And how much of a pain in the ass it’ll be to get it all here,” you joke.

“Where do you live now?” she says.

“Cypress Street. Six hundred block.”

“That’s not far from here. I can help you.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Yeah if it’ll help you move in faster… We need someone soon,” she explains.

“I think you got yourself a deal. But I just want to ask, why women only?”

“Can you blame us,” Ellie snorts.

“Well, no,” you chuckle.

“I just have to ask before you say yes… I’m gay. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“No,” you chuckle, “I’m bi myself.”

“Oh, okay,” Ellie says, letting out a sigh of relief.

“What about-” you start.

“Straight,” Abby says, finishing your thought for you before turning and leaving the room.

“So when can you move in?” Ellie asks.

“Two weeks?”

“Works for us. And she’s serious about helping you by the way.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” she nods.

“Thanks. I’ll give you a call soon then?”

“Sounds good,” she affirms.

“Alright, then. We’ll be in touch,” you say as she leads you to the door. You were going to say goodbye to Abby but you hear the shower running. And now your mind is thinking about her in the steamy shower… skin peppered in droplets of water…

That makes you realize you’re attracted to both of your soon-to-be roommates. And that could be a problem. At least you know there’s no chance with Abby. But Ellie on the other hand…

Guess you’ll have to wait and see how this goes.

Two weeks go by and you’re standing in your almost empty apartment, watching Abby lift everything with ease. Ellie helps, too, but Abby noticeably carries the heavier stuff. Anything you had that Abby and Ellie already did is getting put into a storage unit. And after a long day of clearing out your old apartment, making storage unit runs, and moving into your new bedroom, you’re finally starting to get settled in.

Just as you flop down on your bed, you hear a knock on the door.

“We’re gonna watch a movie… Wanna join?” Ellie asks, poking her head in. She’s not making eye contact with you and her face is blushed… She’s nervous.

“Sure,” you say, getting off your bed and meeting her in the hallway.

You follow her to the living room where she sits on the opposite side of the couch from Abby, leaving you to sit… in between them.

“So what are we watching?” you ask, gingerly sitting down.

“Oh uh-”

“Breakfast Club,” Abby says.

“Interstellar,” Ellie suggests.

“No way! You’ll fall asleep,” Abby says.

“No I won’t,” Ellie says defensively.

“You always do. Any movie that’s over three hours long, you pass right out.”

“But Breakfast Club is so fucking boring-”

“You’re being rude. Ask her what she wants,” Abby says, cutting Ellie off.

“You’re right. What do you want to watch?” Ellie says.

“Uhh… Interstellar’s fine with me. I don’t think I’ve watched it all the way yet.”

“It’s because you keep falling asleep, isn’t it?” Abby says, stifling a laugh.

“Shut up,” Ellie sighs, rolling her eyes.

“You guys fight like an old married couple,” you tease, “But you did not just call Breakfast Club boring,” you shoot at Ellie.

“Told you,” Abby says, leaning back against the couch and turning on the TV.

After the second act of Interstellar, you realize that Abby is right… because you and Ellie are falling asleep.

You vaguely hear the TV turn off followed by Abby muttering to herself.

“I told them both,” she sighs, getting up and heading to bed.

Ellie’s already passed out and you’re too lazy to get up, resigning to falling asleep on the couch.

You wake up with your cheek pressed against something warm… something soft, something humanlike. You open your eyes and all you can see in the dark is the vague outline of Ellie. Somehow in your sleep, you met each other in the middle, falling asleep on her chest, head tucked into the crook of her neck.

You really should get up but she’s so warm and comfortable…

You couldn’t move if you tried.

Ellie wakes up with a startle, not realizing what happened in her sleep. But she’s not mad at it. Instead, she brushes her thumb on the back of your head, wrapping her other arm around you. As soon as she does that, you jolt awake, poking your head up and meeting her eyes in the darkness. She moves her hands away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

But when you say, “No… Keep doing that,” everything changes.

You crash your lips into hers, a little sloppy at first as you both find each other. She tastes like her minty toothpaste, her breath cool and tickly as she moves against you. You shift so you’re hovering directly over her, reaching for her inner thigh before stopping to ask, “Is this okay?”

“More than okay,” she breathes out, spreading her legs apart for you.

You place your knee by her pussy, giving her enough contact to grind herself against it. You reach down and kiss her again, feeling the way she writhes underneath you, hips wantonly moving back and forth. She moans into the kiss, desperate for more contact and you oblige, pushing your knee taught against her as your lips move down her neck. Moans escape her mouth and you quietly remind her in her ear, “Gotta stay quiet. Don’t want to wake her.”

You chuckle before replacing your lips against her neck, inching down to her collarbone. You’re determined to give her a hickey in a place Abby won’t be able to see so you pull her shirt collarbone, sucking and nipping at her soft skin. She does her best to choke back her moans as she gets herself off on your knee. Eventually, the movement of her hips goes erratic and she bites her lip, trying desperately to stay quiet.

“Good girl,” you tell her, reaching your hand down between her thighs. Your hand slides up her sleep shorts where you find… no panties.

“No panties, Ellie? Naughty girl.”

She whimpers in response, moving her hips again, letting her know she wants your fingers.

“Use your words,” you tease.

“Fingers… please,” she softly moans.

You bring your fingers to your mouth, moistening your pointer and middle fingers for her. One finger teases her entrance, slowly circling it before pushing inside her. She bites back a moan, moving her hips and already begging for more. But you don’t give it to her yet, curling your finger painstakingly slowly.

“Please, I need more,” she whispers.

“Since you asked nicely,” you tease, pushing a second finger in.

You tell even in the darkness her mouth falls open, jaw going slack. You kiss along her jawline, slowly making your way to the spot where her neck meets her ear while you curl your fingers against her g-spot. But with the addition of your thumb rubbing circles around her clit, she cums hard. Her pussy clenches around your fingers and she lets out quiet moans of pleasure.

“Good girl,” you whisper against her ear, letting her ride out her high before pulling back and resting on your heels. You bring your fingers to your mouth, tasting her spend. Somehow that makes everything real for you… making you realize you just fingered your roommate of only a few hours.

Way to go, you think to yourself.

“Sorry about that,” you whisper, quickly getting off the couch and making a dash for your room. You close the door and flop down onto your bed, wondering what the fuck you just got yourself into. So much for not being attracted to your roommates. At least the other one is straight.

You wake up to the glimmering sunlight peeking in through the curtains. The memories of last night immediately flood your mind. You can’t avoid this at all. Aside from the obvious fact that you and Ellie are roommates, you both have the day off today. You remember her telling you during the process of moving yesterday because she offered to help you decorate your new room.

You’ll have to face her eventually.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you sleepily drag your feet through the hallway and into the kitchen. She’s already there, sitting at the kitchen table, so the time to rip off the band-aid is now.

But first, you head to the coffee machine, and grab a mug from the cabinet before asking her, “Do you want any?”

“No thanks. I don’t like coffee,” she responds.

“Gotcha,” you say awkwardly, wishing the tension would dissipate.

After a beat of silence, you say, “I’m sorry for you know… last night.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Well, I mean probably not the best thing to do with your brand new roommate,” you continue, grabbing the creamer from the refrigerator.

“Who said that’s a bad thing? It’s like having a live-in friends-with-benefits situation.”

She’s surprisingly cool with this.

“Really?” you ask, shutting the door and turning to face her with your mug in hand.

“Really,” she affirms, “As long as we set some ground rules.”

“Like what?” you ask, sitting across from her.

“Keep it platonic and Abby can’t find out.”

The platonic thing definitely won’t last but sure. Why can’t Abby find out?

“Why can’t she-”

“She’ll give me shit. I just don’t feel like dealing with it,” she says.

It’s probably not the best to keep secrets from one roommate but you also just started sleeping with the other.

“Fine by me,” you say, sipping on your coffee.

That was the start of your purely sexual relationship with Ellie. You’ve spent the past few weeks sneaking around behind Abby’s back, fucking on your days off when Abby’s already gone to bed or early in the morning after she’s already left for the gym. Your bedroom is in between theirs so when you fuck you opt to use Ellie’s room since it’s a little bit farther away from Abby’s. There’s been a few close calls where Abby came home earlier from work than expected, or where her date got canceled. Ellie thinks Abby’s suspicious of you two but you convince her otherwise, telling her that Abby probably just assumes you’re close because you have similar work schedules and see more of each other. At least that’s what you hope she thinks.

You’re about to do your nightly routine of sneaking into Ellie’s room after Abby’s gone to bed. Tiptoeing down the hallway, you open Ellie’s door slowly, quietly entering her room and guiding the door shut so it doesn’t slam against the frame.

“I have a surprise,” Ellie says.

“Oh yeah?” you ask with a smirk, “And what would that be?”

She lifts her pillow to reveal a strap-on, black harness with a pink dildo. But you’re left wondering which of you two is actually going to use it…

The truth is, you and Ellie are both subs. Sometimes you lean towards being a switch but you’re both subs at heart.

“Who’s gonna wear it?” you ask, your eyes not leaving the strap-on.

“I was thinking you could… use the strap?”

“Uhh-”

“Listen I know you’re a sub but-”

“Yeah, I’m a sub.”

“I think you’d be a good dom!” she says, picking up the strap and walking towards you.

You sigh loudly, pressing your palms to your eyes and saying, “I’m glad you think that but I’m just not a dom.”

Suddenly a knock on Ellie’s door interrupts you before either of you can say anything else.

“Can I come in?” Abby asks.

Ellie hastily shoves the strap-on under her pillow and says, “Come in!”

Abby opens the door and leans against the doorframe, a small smile gracing her lips. She’s wearing her classic sleep attire; a light gray tank top and patterned boxers. This pair is blue with rain clouds on them.

“Can you two keep it down?”

“Of course. Sorry, Abs,” you say.

But she doesn’t move. She stays there in the door frame with her smile growing wider.

“Anything else?” Ellie asks.

“Yes, actually,” she says, standing up straight, “I’m just wondering how two subs made it this long.

“What?” you and Ellie say in unison.

“You heard me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“I guess I should clarify. I heard you two about three weeks ago.”

“You knew this whole time?” Ellie asks, her face going pale.

“Pretty much,” she shrugs.

“And what do you have to say about this?” Ellie continues.

“I just think you two need to know what it’s like to be dommed.”

“Oh yeah? By who?” you counter.

“Oh shut up and get on the bed. Both of you,” she commands, rolling her eyes.

You and Ellie exchange glances, staying still for a moment. Which prompts Abby to say, “Do you need to be told again?”

You scramble to the bed, sitting side by side with Ellie. Abby walks to the edge of the bed, crouching down in front of the two of you.

“Now Ellie, where’s this strap?”

Ellie reaches for her pillow, lifting it and handing the strap to Abby.

“Just for your smart mouth, you get to watch me fuck her first,” Abby says to you.

Your mouth falls open, watching as it all unfolds before you. Ellie stands from the bed and strips, lying back down and spreading her legs. Abby inches closer, arms locking around Ellie’s thighs as she eats her out. The sight is so fucking hot and you have the urge to touch yourself. But as you open your thighs and inch your hand down by your groin, Abby stops you, poking her head up.

“I didn’t say you could do that,” she says, her chin glistening with Ellie’s wetness under the moonlight peeking in from the window.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, removing your hand and snapping your legs shut.

Abby returns to eating Ellie out, her eyes glancing up at her while Ellie’s back arches up off the bed. It looks like she’s about to cum soon. But before she can Abby pulls away, rising from the floor and grabbing the strap beside her. She sheds her clothes and puts on the strap, grabbing Ellie by her hair and hoisting her upright.

“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” she commands, holding Ellie’s face in front of the tip of the strap. Ellie opens her mouth and takes as much as she can in her mouth. It’s hot watching her do this considering she’s never sucked a dick before or even a strap for that matter, but she’s got the spirit.

But once Abby decides she’s done enough, she pushes Ellie back down on the bed, kneeling in between her legs. Abby lifts Ellie by her hips, angling her to the tip of the trap. Abby pushes into Ellie, eliciting a moan from deep within her.

“Doing such a good job, taking my cock like such a good girl,” Abby says, looking down at her.

Ellie can only respond with a string of choked-up moans. Her grip on Ellie’s hips is firm, holding her steady as Abby plows into her. You feel the wetness pool between your legs, your jaw going slack as you watch Abby fuck Ellie, not sure which one you want to be more.

With one last slam of Abby’s hips, Ellie cums around the strap, writhing under Abby’s grasp. Abby holds her still as she rides out her high. You notice her eyes are glassy with tears, threatening to spill over. A tear escapes her right eye, rolling down her cheek. Abby reaches forward, swiping it away with her thumb and praising Ellie.

“Such a good girl,” she says, “I bet you’re spent.”

Ellie nods, sighing as Abby removes the strap inside her.

“You can have a break while I take care of this one,” Abby continues, turning towards you. She takes a step closer to you, towering over you as looks down at you with a smirk on her face.

“I think I need to make an example out of you. You know, show Ellie over here what happens when you’re bad.”

You sit upright, looking up at her wide-eyed as if she’ll show you any mercy.

“Strip,” she commands, placing a hand on her hip.

You stand from the bed, the tip of the strap making contact with your thigh as you pull your t-shirt over your head. The strap is slick, sliding against your skin. You know what it tastes like– Ellie’s spend, and you want it. That is if Abby will let you, of course.

You kick off your sleep shorts, standing in front of Abby completely bare. A shiver runs down your spine in anticipation of what she’s going to do next. She leans forward and pushes you down on the bed, spreading your thighs apart. Situating herself in between your legs, she hovers over your face and grabs your chin.

“You don’t get to cum until I say so. Got it?”

“Y-Yes,” you breathe out, voice dripping with arousal.

She takes two fingers, brushing them across your lips before commanding, “Open.”

You open your mouth, letting her place them inside.

“Now suck.”

Closing your lips and beginning to suck her fingers, you maintain eye contact with her, being sure to never break it. You swirl your tongue around her fingers, getting them nice and wet for what she’s about to do, which you assume is fingering you. But you’re being punished, who knows what she has up her sleeve?

“That’s a good girl,” she says, drawing her fingers away from your mouth. “So far,” she quickly adds.

Resting on her heels, she leans back, the bright pink strap sticking straight out and still glistening. She runs her fingers along your pussy, spreading around the wetness that’s already there. She slides one finger in at first but her hands are so big that it already feels amazing. She curls it against your walls, her eyes studying you for physical reactions to her touch.

“Remember what I said?” she asks.

“Don’t cum without permission,” you say.

“Good,” she praises, pushing her finger up against your g-spot.

You look over at Ellie who’s watching you both with an astounded expression on her face. Probably because she never thought she would see her supposedly straight roommate dom her other roommate.

“Hey, eyes on me,” Abby commands.

You tear your gaze away from Ellie, looking back at Abby who replaces her hand on your chin again. She inserts another finger inside you, keeping the movement she’s using slow. Already your orgasm is starting to build up but you do your best to keep it at bay.

“You’re being so good for me,” she coos.

You let out a breathy moan in response, walls tensing up in anticipation of a big release. From your toes to your ears your body feels tingly. She can sense you getting close but she doesn’t say anything yet, wanting to see if you’ll ask for permission.

“Can I please cum, Abby?” you whimper.

“I don’t know. Have you earned it?”

“Please, Abby. I can’t hold on anymore,” you whine.

“Do it. Cum on my fingers, baby,” she purrs, keeping her grip on your chin tight. You need something to hold onto– the sheets, the pillows, something. But something possesses you to grab Abby’s braid, without permission but you have a feeling she’ll like it. You reach a hand up and grab her braid in the middle tugging on it as your orgasm threatens to break loose.

The hair-pulling does something for her because she utters a low “Oh fuck.”

That’s when you finally let go, allowing yourself to succumb to the orgasm. But it’s more than just a regular orgasm. You squirted, feeling your release soak her hand, your thighs, and the sheets beneath you. Abby tears her gaze away from you to look between your legs, watching as your spend leaks out of you. She looks back at you and says, “You squirted.”

“I know… Was I not supposed to?”

She doesn’t respond, instead, she crashes her lips into yours. Before pulling away and hovering a couple of inches over your face.

“I need you to do that again and again,” she says, kissing you one more time before pulling back and resting on her heels.

“O-Okay,” you say, your body still shuttering.

“What the fuck?! I’ve never gotten you to do that before,” Ellie says.

“See, that’s why you needed me to show you,” Abby sighs, getting off the bed. “Now both of you get up.”

You and Ellie both stand up, standing awkwardly side by side as Abby lies down on the bed.

“Shit, your sheets are soaked, El,”

“I don’t even care. That shit was hot,” Ellie says.

“So what are we doing now?” you ask.

“Now it’s time for the reward. You get my cock since you squirted.”

“Oh, okay,” you say nervously, moving on the bed to straddle her. You sink down onto the strap, letting it expand your walls before you start moving. Abby reaches her hands towards your breasts, caressing the outline of them before taking your nipples in between her fingertips, not pinching them harshly but playing with them, all slow and soft.

“Ride my cock, baby,” she commands, “But remember you have to ask to cum.”

You nod, starting to rock your hips back and forth. You place your hands on her chest for support. But your cheeks heat up when you realize you put your hands right over her breasts. She doesn’t care though, letting you do what you need to fuck yourself on her cock. She slides her hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. Your walls tense up like they did before, getting ready to cum again.

“Abby… Can I cum again?”

“Mhm. Show me how you cum on my cock,” she says, holding your waist tighter.

You cum again, ringing in your second one for the night. The movement of your hips grows sloppy as you ride out your high, this one deeper than the last. But eventually, you slow to a stop, staying with the strap inside you and waiting for further instructions.

“Alright, get in here, too,” Abby says to Ellie.

“Where do I-”

“Where do you think?” Abby says sarcastically.

Ellie moves onto the bed, straddling Abby’s face. She lowers herself so her pussy is directly over Abby’s mouth, gasping at the feeling. You begin grinding against the strap again, but this time you lean forward towards Ellie. She meets you in the middle, lips colliding with yours. The both of you moan into each other’s mouths, orgasms already impending due to how sensitive you both are. You cum around the strap, moaning into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss with Ellie, marking your third orgasm of the night. She cums, too, judging by the sounds she’s making. You feel your release drip out of your pussy and run down your thighs. Judging by how wet it is, you squirted again much to Abby’s delight.

Ellie tears herself away from you to flop down onto the bed, completely exhausted. You lean forward and rest on Abby’s chest, her hand rubbing small circles on your back. And the three of you stay there just like that for a moment, your skin slick with sweat and radiating heat. It’s… nice and you could truly fall asleep like this, naked and pressed up against your roommates. It can’t last forever, though, because eventually, Abby has to get up and go to bed.

“I have to get up early in the morning so I’ll leave you two… to whatever you were doing before,” she says as you move off of her. She gets up from the bed and takes off the strap, reaching for her clothes. But before she goes you have to poke fun at her again.

“So much for being straight, huh?” you ask as she gets dressed.

She shoots you a death glare but you continue the joke.

“Aw come on. Just admit you wanna fuck me and Ellie.”

“Watch your mouth,” she says sharply, turning and shutting the door behind her, leaving you and Ellie to erupt into a fit of laughter.

Tag list: @littlegrungegirlaf @fhatbhabie @sweetercalypso @chrry1ovr @certifiedelliekisser @bunnyboop03 @hausofblossom @ibatman @pretty-forest-nymph @ellieslizzies @reinersbigolboobies @saltandpepperchicken @localshitpoststore @liaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @merciiss @genderfluidlesbain999 @ellieswifee

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson smut #abby anderson #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x f!reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #ellie williams x female reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou 2

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luvyeni · 5 months

Text

❛BIRTHDAY BOY!❜ ( p. sunghoon )

💬nias note: for the birthday boy , i was gonna post it yesterday but i forgot.

p. park sunghoon x exoticdancer!reader w. 1.6k+

— 𖦹 warnings. unprotected sex, oral ( m. receiving ), dirty talk, nothing special

— 𖦹 ( giving the birthday boy a few birthday wishes ) !

“Trust Me"

Those two words coming from jakes mouth never sat right with him — especially when it had something to so with him personally. “I’ll handle your birthday, just get ready to have fun.”

He should’ve known what his friend was planning — knowing the boy for years, he should’ve known he was gonna pick the strip club. “Ta-da!” Jake stood outside the doors to the club. “A strip club?” Sunghoon said displeased. “Don’t say it like that, how many strip clubs do you go to.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like strip clubs, he just never thought about going as often as his friends do. “Sunghoon just give it a try.” Heeseung said, patting his shoulder. “please, jake looked like he worked hard.”

Sunghoon gave in, the stood in the vip line — finally being let into their section, ordering a few bottles of his favorite alcohol. “Have fun , and let loose.” Jake said. “don’t be so uptight.”

Sunghoon decided to take their advice — it was his birthday he should have fun. He slowly started to let loose, refilling his cup multiple times as different girls came around, all different sizes, draped in beautiful lingerie’s. His friends had long gone forgotten they were celebrating them, entertaining multiple girls in the section.

“Are you not having fun?” A voice tore him from his thoughts. He turned ready to turn down whoever it was when his voice was caught in his throat. “Most people come here to have fun.”

You were perfection, literally his dream girl. your soft voice and cute almost innocent smile — and your body, adorned in a baby sheer pink babydoll lingerie set, the boob cups covered in fluff. “Oh no I am.” He said taking a sip of his drink. “are you really?”

“Oh yn.” Jake words slurred as he held the waist of a girl who was sitting in his lap. “Hi jake.” You waved, jake was a regular. “Minhee isn’t here today, so no private dance for you.” You said. “That’s fine, today isn’t about me today anyway.” He pointed to the raven haired boy in front of you. “my boy sunghoon, it’s his birthday today.”

Your eyes shifted back to the boy in front of you. “Is it?” He nodded. “Well happy birthday sunghoon.” You said gently touching his shoulder. “Thank you.” Jake sat his drink down, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Hey yn, why don’t you give the boy a private birthday show?” He dipped into his pocket pulling out his card. “Here, my treat.”

Sunghoon turned to his friend, ready to decline — but you already took his card. “Okay, im gonna go set up.” You walked away, his card in his hand. “Jake im gonna kill you.”

“Bro it’s a dance, and from yn of all people, you’re lucky as hell right now.” He said, he didn’t even have time to ask him before he was already explaining what he meant. “yn is famous around here, she doesn’t just do private shows for random people, she approaches you, not the other way around.” He said. “She approached me my first time here, and I declined and they called me stupid every time I came back for the next 3 months.”

“That’s why you’re stuck with Minhee.” You made your return, handing jake his card back. “And I get your cuter friend.” You turned to sunghoon, sticking your hand out. “come.” You said with a sweet smile. “Go sunghoon, go have fun it’s your birthday.” Heeseung encouraged. “I don’t bite.” You said, he stood up taking your hand. “Unless you want me to.”

You guided him through the club, your hands stayed interlocked, his eyes were glued to your backside, the dress barely did anything to hide your pink thong. “I can feel you staring.” You walked down the hallway of the different private rooms. “Am I not allowed?”

“You are.” You said, squeezing his hand. “I hear you’re pretty famous around here.” He said. “I guess you could say that.” You responded with quickness. “Why is that?” You opened the door, he followed you inside. “I don’t know, maybe because im cute.” You titled your head smiling. “really? That’s it?”

“You don’t think so?” He nodded his head. “No I think you’re the cutest thing in this place.” He said. “Yeah?” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Yup.” He said, placing his hands on your waist, the music was already playing, multi colored lights flashing.

You pushed him down on the couch, climbing into his lap. “Relax.” You said holding his shoulders. “It’s your birthday, let me take care of you.” You said, voice was so innocent — in contrast to the fact that you were basically grinding against him.

You swayed your hips to the music , normally you’d utilize the pole more — but he was different so you stayed close to him and sunghoon wasn’t complaining, in fact he was starting to see why you were pretty famous around here, you basically had two, personalities, that cute innocent act you put on was a fake — you were a tease.

You’d touch him just enough to make him want more, before you’d pull away leaving him to bite his lip, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Fuck.” He sighed as you ran your hands down his stomach, stopping at his v-line, teasingly lifting his shirt. “oh fuck you’re killing me cutie.”

You smile, running your freshly manicured nails down his thighs. “what’s your birthday wish?” You said, climbing back into his lap. “What’s something you really want?” You pulled at his chain. “If I tell you, I’ll get thrown out of here princess.” You smirked, you had him right where you wanted him. “You don’t see any bouncers in here do you?”

“Tell me birthday boy.” You whispered in his ear, he hissed when you nipped at his lobe. “Fuck, right now my biggest wish is for you to get on your knees and put my cock in your pretty mouth.” He said, his voice deep, dripped in lust. “Yeah.” You stood up, slowly sinking to your knees , his eyes followed you. “Like this?” You looked up at him through your lashes. “Yeah.” He sighed.

You reached for his jeans, undoing the button — unzipping the jeans, he lifted his hips up, and you slowly pulled them down to his ankles. He was already hard, his bulge pressing against his underwear. “You’re so hard already.” You kissed his clothed cock. “Fuck princess, that’s because you’ve ben teasing me for 20 minutes.”

You took that as a hurry up, you freed his cock, grabbing the base of his cock stroking it. “Fu-fuck.” He cursed. “You’re little hands can barely fit around my fat cock baby.” He groaned— you kissed his tip, giving you a few kitty licks. “Fuck put it in your mouth now.” You listened, opening your mouth taking him in. “Shiiiit, that’s it.” He groaned. “take more of my cock."

You relaxed your throat, fully taking him in. “Oh shit.” He moaned as you bobbed your head up and down, gagging around his length. “To-took me down that pretty little throat so easily.” He grabbed your hair that was gathered in a ponytail, guiding your head on his cock. “Fuck im gonna cum.” He hissed, a minute later you felt his cum fill your mouth.

He pulled you of his cock, cum leaking from your mouth, he brought his thumb to your lips, pushing the cum back into your mouth. “good girl, swallow for me.” You swallowed , sticking out your tongue.

“Do you have another wish?” He smirked. “oh you’re feeling generous tonight? You always this generous baby?” You shook your head no. “You’re the birthday boy.” He chuckled darkly. “Okay then get up.” He grabbed your forearm, standing you up, following behind you.

“Turn around.” He manhandled your body, pushing you down on the couch. “Fuck look at that ass.” You felt a sharp slap against your backside, squeezing your cheeks. “Sunghoon.” You moaned, holding the back of the couch as he pulled your thong to the side, pressing his cock against your ass. “Gonna fuck you.”

He grabbed the base of his cock, his tip kissed your cunt. “gonna split you open.” He pushed his cock fully in, moaning out. “Oh fuck you’re tight as hell.” He fully bottom out, pulling out, slamming back into you. “Oh fuck!” you screamed as he plowed into your sopping heat. “Fu-fuck you’re so big.”

“yeah.” He grunted, slapping your ass again. “you’re taking me like a champ baby -fuck- best fucking birthday gift.” He grunted , fucking into you harder, the walls were soundproof and you were glad cause you could definitely get in trouble, even though at the moment, you really didn’t care — more focused on your orgasm that was approaching fast. “Fuck sunghoon im gonna cum!”

He watched your ass bounce back against his pelvis, slapping it a few times. “Shit im cumming!” You screamed, your juices coating his cock. He kept thrusting — once; twice, before he pulled out jerking his cock off cumming on your ass. “Shit.”

“Did I make birthday better?” You asked. “Much better.” He asked. “Good, I don’t do this to everyone.” You said, wiping your lipstick off his neck. “You’re cute so you’re special enough.” He grabbed you by your waist pulling you close. “Special enough to let me take you out on a date?”

“You want to go on a date?” You said, you got asked on date daily, but normally by old men so you never accepted. “Yeah, it can be my last birthday wish.” He smiled cheekily, you smiled.

“okay birthday boy i'll go on a date with you.”

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x female reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x female reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon fic #sunghoon hard hours

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kissitbttr · 5 months

Note

Miggy getting babied by his pregnant wife?

hiii! i hope you don’t mind, i changed it a bit because I don’t want it to look too much alike on the other one! this one’s short, enjoy! xx

being a mother to a 6 month old pregnancy bump isn’t easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and that’s what miguel had been learning through it all. seeing your mood swings shift in a span of thirty seconds, constant cravings for ice creams, kebabs etc, snapping (directly at him and mostly at him), frequent backaches and fatigue. he’s very much impressed how an existence of a human being living inside of you could actually change you as a person.

still, doesn’t mean he loves you less.

“ugh, i’d give my left tit for a big plate of mofongos and a fat ass joint right now”

the two of you are cuddled up in the couch, watching some lame old american tv show that miguel seems to find enjoyable. you’re dressed in one of his t-shirt and grey sweatpants. ones that you had claimed as yours despite miguel’s protest.

your husband chuckles, pulling you closer by the shoulder. “lucky you, mami. i bought an extra before i came home just for you. i could heat it up for you later if you want.”

a dreamy sigh escape your lips, reaching out to kiss his cheek. “thanks papi. you’re the best. what about the joint?”

he snorts, head shaking as his eyes cast down to yours. “i don’t think weed is good for the baby.”

“says who?” you fake a gasp, pulling back slightly. “it’s literally herbal! unless it’s contaminated with tobacco. don’t we have a stash up in the closet?”

“you finished them all, ma. basically rolling those joints with your pretty fingers before this happened” he points at the bump. “usted es avaro, mi corazon. barely left some for me”

a smile pulls up into your mouth, head resting against his bare chest. hand interlocking with his. “remember when we were celebrating our one year anniversary and got high?”

“ay dios mio” he groans playfully, rolling his head back. “don’t remind me, baby”

“it was so fun” you ignore the embarrassment creeping into his cheeks, grinning even wider when he tries to hide it. “we went to taco bell after.”

“yeah and i threw it up because it tasted like shit”

you hum, nodding along. “and decided to get shawarmas and fries instead because we weren’t satisfied”

“one with the small food truck in 133th street” he confirms, his cheek against the crown of your hair. smiling at the memory. “i remember you told me not to get ones from across that italian place that you like because we need to support small business. had to stop you from crying too much because you kept saying how unfair it was for rich bastards to keep open up restaurants when they have shitty palate”

his comment makes you laugh hard. his grip around your hand tighten. some sort of pride blooms in his chest when he sees you laugh freely like that.

“oh god i remember!” as you slowly recover from the laugh. “we sat on the pavement after that right? you kept telling me how you want me to be the mother of your child.”

“damn, why do you keep recalling all the embarrassing things i did, huh?” he asks jokingly with a deep chuckle. now his attention isn’t even on the tv anymore.

“because it’s cute! you were so cute!” he shakes his head once more, biting down a shy smile as you shift your body weight to wrap your arms around his neck. “my miggy is so cute with the ‘i want you to be my wife, i want to get you pregnant, mi amor. say yes please, please, pleaseeeee’”

you continue to mock his actions back then, watching him cower down at the attempt of you trying to mimic his voice. strangely enough, you almost got it right.

he has his hands covered his face.“stop that, princesa! come onnnn”

you respond with a head shake as a ‘no’. “ay, papi don’t be shy” you giggle, trying to pry his hands off. “come on. let me see my hubby. let me see him”

miguel doesn’t budge for a while before peeking in-between his fingers like a little kid, then slowly peeling his hands away, jutting his lower lip forward.

you gasp, hand over your heart. “god damn! you can’t be walking around looking like that! can’t have all the girls falling for the sexiest man alive”

he rolls his eyes, smiling at your compliment. “stop being biased, baby!”

“i am not! how dare you calling the mother of your kid a liar, hm?” you tug him down, letting his head rest in between your neck and shoulder blade. “my baby daddy is sooo handsome. i won the fucking lottery.”

“definitely the other way around, love.” he disagrees, hand coming up to rest on your bump. “you stole my heart the moment you walked into my office that day. never thought in my life that a gorgeous architect made me get down on my knees and pray to the lord up there to let me have you.”

now that makes your heart skips a beat. how could you compete with that? he never fails to make you swoon even after years of being with him. it’s like the butterflies never stopped.

“hmm now you’re being biased, miggy”

“nope. i was so sure that i was in love with you.” he then turns to look up to you, tone becoming serious. “my god, you were the finest thing i have ever laid my eyes upon, mami. was literally bending over backwards to impress you. and now? seeing you swollen with my baby just made you ten times more gorgeous than before. you’re the love of my life, mi amor. and i will prove it to you for the rest of my life if i had to”

truly, you had never believe in luck or hope. it’s something that never sits well with you. odds never had been in your favor and you believed that for the longest time. you were fine being all alone. you have a job that pays you well, great condo, a body that you learned to adore, a loving mother. four things that you have always been so grateful for. you wouldn’t change a single thing.

but when miguel happened? everything in your life had changed for much better. from having to do everything on your own to ‘i got this one baby’. sure, you weren’t exactly comfortable with it at first, because you had never been the one who had asked for help.

yet you learned to love it all because of him,

with a grateful smile, you trace your fingertips across his soft lips. beautiful red eyes not leaving yours, as if he’s afraid that if he looks away for a second he would lose you completely,

“you’re the love of my life too, miguel”

don’t forget to reblog and comment babes!! xx

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara blurbs

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