#you're too sweet anon thank you T////T

[pinkaditty]

Can i pls request some facesitting headcanons for Satan, Mammon, Sitri and leviathan with a fem s!o? Thank you ❤️

hihi this was my first non-anon ask and yes ofc u can!! <3333

summary: facesitting and pussy eating. how will the men of WHB handle it?

a/n: woohoo i've been excited to do this ask tbh!! like seriously i've really been looking forward to it!!!! the only one i don't know much abt is Mammon buuuuut i do know his personality and idiosyncrasy so im hoping that's enough to characterize him properly!

cw: fem!reader (sorry, the one time i don't do gn... I PROMISE GN NEXT TIME!!), reader has a vagina, facesitting, pussy eating, suffocating (leviathan), cardiophilia (Sitri), pygophilia (Mammon), spanking (Satan), male whimpering, masturbation, and lots of tongue usage. NOT PROOFREAD!

MINORS DNI AS USUAL!!!!! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY! THANK YOU!

Satan:

well. he does like spanking!

he won't say no to you sitting on his face ofc that's whatever, as long as he gets to spank your ass while he does it.

he especially doesn't care which way you're facing, because either way, there's an ass close enough for spanking. good enough for him.

will definitely just roughly massage and spank your asscheeks while he makes quick work of you with his tongue.

don't really know why but i think he's totally masterful at it.

knows exactly where your sweet spots are in seconds and abuses tf out of them.

pays especially close attention to the clit, and he's the most gentle with his tongue there. he doesn't mind spanking you, but he doesn't want to hurt you, especially not your sensitive areas. he won't mind if his nails leave a few marks, though.

he won't really stop until he's satisfied. you can't pull yourself off of him because you're not beating him in the strength department.

sorta thrusts his hips up into the air as he eats you out. gets painfully hard really quickly.

His nails, sharp as claws, dig into the skin of your ass, leaving deep bruises and small cuts. You groan painfully, curling your hands into fists and twitching at the sensation. You reach out and pull on his hair. He only grunts, continuing to draw soft circles around your clit with his tongue, smacking your ass once with his right hand before cupping your cheeks and pulling you closer to him. The sensation of his tongue swirling around your clit is almost enough to distract you from his nails still clawing into your backside. His tongue is gentle and slow, tracing soft circles around the sensitive nub. His pace is consistent; not so slow you'd lose your mind, but not so fast that you'd be overstimulated. He takes his time, even pausing gentle stimulation of your clit to lap at your hole, already dripping juices from how delicious it all felt.

This back and forth continues, at the same constant pace. Every time you reach orgasm, he smacks your ass again and continues on his pace, gently licking soft circles around your hardened clit.

At this pace, you'll hardly be able to take whatever devil energy he can give you.

Mammon:

well. he's similar to satan in that he likes ass (similar to me too lol).

will probably be doing almost exactly like what Satan's doing, just with less spanking and more groping and general ass appreciation.

will definitely prefer you facing away from him so that he can really be immersed in ass.

he's really slow with it, though. like where satan will put you through multiple in minutes, mammon will give you one every agonizingly long stretch of time filled with not enough pleasure to get you off, but enough to keep you squirming and impatient.

he will find your sensitive spots, but rather than abuse them, he switches between them. he'll take his time getting you off. he's very slow with it, so much so that it almost feels like he's edging you (he sort of is but he's greedy he likes to savor it and take his time. he knows you're already his anyway. why not take his time?)

will lick stripes rather than circles. he will lick your clit directly instead of teasing swipes from a circular motion.

will also dive his tongue between your folds very often, lapping at your juices like a dog does water.

is constantly squeezing, groping, and rubbing his hands all over your ass, simply enamored by it regardless of size.

definitely without a doubt gets hard but probably won't acknowledge it. he's greedy for you, not his pleasure (though he absolutely will be later).

His tongue switches back to your clit, licking slow stripes, pushing the flesh up and down with his tongue. Idly, you wonder how he can keep at this for so long, but such a thought does not last- not when the repeated, slow motions scatter your thoughts with how ridiculously good it feels. You tense up, eagerly stifling your twitching and staying in place, feeling the pleasure build up at last. He keeps going, licking soft stripes up and down your clit, moving his tongue so masterfully rhythmically that barely a sound comes from his technique. You clench and unclench your hands, your eyes spin in your skull, your heartbeat quickens, and your breathing deepens. Surely this was it, surely--!

You feel the telltale motion of his tongue giving one last rough, prolonged stripe to your clit, before he switches back to your waiting hole, diving his tongue inside hungrily and dragging it along your insides, collecting all the juices his greed so desires. You curse, having been so close, and he teasingly squeezes your ass in return. You can feel him smirking into your folds.

Sitri:

oh boy. ohohooooo boy.

he could care less which way you're facing. what matters is, regardless of the position you take up, your thighs are pressed directly against his ears. he can hear your heartbeat from afar but it's never enough.

will wrap his arms around your thighs to ensure that you stay put and to really press your thighs into his ears. he just cannot get enough of your heartbeat. thump, thump, thump...

is less careful with his fangs than the other demons. absolutely will not hurt nor bite you but when he's tonguing your folds the smooth edges of his teeth may slide against you. not painful.

is not very calculated with his technique but doesn't really need to be with your heartbeat as a dead giveaway. he just laps and laps tirelessly like a parched dog but somehow it hits the good spots.

honestly it's the way he does it that turns you on more than how it feels. how desperate each stroke feels is what really does it.

strokes with his tongue are wide, all-encompassing, and sloppy. he's drooling so much that it only makes you wetter.

buries his face as close as he can so he'll often pull back for air before burying himself again.

eats you out like he's never eaten anything before.

gets hard very quickly and will gently remove his hand from your thigh to jack himself off. does it quietly so you won't notice because he thinks it's embarrassing. eventually his muffled moans into your folds give him away and you just start riding his face. not that he minds.

He just keeps lapping. Like a dog at a water bowl after a long, dry walk. He just doesn't seem to stop. It feels good - almost too good. You writhe and twist, curling your toes from how delicious it feels, but you can't move much; his strong arms still holding you down in place and keeping your thighs hard pressed to either side of his face. He just has to listen to your heartbeat in his ears. He just can't get enough of it, of you. He keeps lapping, his tongue sliding between your folds, gentle but quick, sliding across your hole and just barely tickling your clit before he retracts and licks again. The buildup feels slow, but you've finished before you know it, the gentle tickles of your clit driving you to orgasm. Your whole body shakes and your eyes roll back, and he lets you ride it out, keeping up his gentle strokes against your clit. You shiver as sparks pop behind your eyes, slowly coming down from your high. He squeezes your thighs once more, and breaks away, taking a few deep breaths. The cool air hits your folds and you flinch, twitching just slightly at the sensation. As quickly as he pulled away, he dives back in, dragging his tongue across the length of your labia, gently slipping between to tease what's there. You groan, feeling sensitive, the continued motion making you feel overstimulated. You curl your toes, shifting yourself just slightly, trying your best to bear the overwhelming feeling. It just feels too good, the gentle drag of his tongue, the soft tease of your hole and clit, and the finality of it all before he immediately starts again. You can't take it.

You feel the pressure of his hand of your thigh gently lift. You can't be bothered to pay much attention to that until you hear the soft clink of a belt being undone, and you know what he's doing. You can barely smile in satisfaction due to overstimulation, but you manage, and reach down for his blue silky hair, pulling tightly on it. He moans, and stops lapping, simply holding his mouth open, preparing for you to ride him. He's practically shaking, trembling in silence except for the repeated sound of his hand sliding up and down his length.

Leviathan:

the less he can breathe, the better.

literally. no if's and's or but's. the less he can breathe the better. surprisingly he's not much into choking you... rather he wants you to choke him.

and he doesn't care how you do it.

so suffocating under you while you take what you need from him, yeah! he is more than on board for that.

prefers you facing forward so you can use his nose to rub your clit on while your folds are spread over his lips, revealing your hole, perfect for him to stick his tongue into while you move back and forth over him.

this way, he can't breathe! and yeah, he gets off to that really fast.

will attempt to hold your hips as you ride him, but may be unable to focus much so he might claw his hands into the sheets.

while he's totally into this, you will have to lift off of him occasionally. but not for very long.

you can watch as his eyes roll back from the relief of finally being able to breathe, his face red as a cherry, his tongue lolled out and covered in your juices.

and then you sit right back down and he can't breathe anymore. but he's not complaining. at all.

he's thrusting his hips upwards, as though he's desperate to feel some friction. he's so into being suffocated, he can't even focus on his own arousal.

won't really touch himself. after your first orgasm or so he's already cum untouched.

for every one orgasm of yours, he's probably had one to three.

You're riding his face like you would a horse, using the chain between his horns as reins, pulling his face deeper into you. He obliges, following your pull ever so obediently, burying himself deeper into your folds. You're moving your hips along his face as fast as you can, his nose providing the perfect stimulation for your clit. You can barely see his eyes peeking over your thighs, but they're there, rolled back in ecstasy. His face is bright red, and he can't breathe. He's clinging to the sheets, gripping them tightly for some semblance of grounding, but he's too far gone.

You're much the same, dizzy and blissful from how good it feels. His nose is gently pressed into you, your clitoris rubbing back and forth over it. His nose supplies just the right amount of pressure, enough to send you over the edge. His open mouth and lolling tongue are perfect for catching your juices and teasing your hole, pressed right against it, and you feel every tremble and every moan. Sometimes he moves his tongue just slightly, circling your hole as you move. It makes you grip the chain harder, putting pressure on his horns, to which he moans rather loudly.

When you finally feel the orgasm coming, the building blissful pressure turning into a peak, your folds twitching with anticipation; you suddenly push the chain away from you, pressing his head into the sheets. Your hips follow him, pressing his face deeper into you and his head deeper into the pillows. His already jerking hips suddenly thrust into to the air, and you hear and feel a strangled moan as he reaches his peak, his whole body quivering as he soils his pants. You press deeper into him as you orgasm yourself, you clit quivering against his nose, your juices spilling into his mouth. For a moment, you stay like that, holding his chains so tightly they leave indents in your skin. Soon you release, letting go of his chains and lifting off of him a little, giving him a chance to breathe. He's twitching, all red in the face, and panting heavily, his mouth wide open, tongue lolling out. You only give him a minute before you sit right back on his face again. He moans, satisfied, and ready for another round.

a/n: okay so perhaps i got a little carried away with my blatant displays of favoritism. perhaps. but it's not my fault!!!!!!!!! i like them submissive. :(

okok but anyway i hope you all enjoyed woohoo!! one more ask after this, but ill do pervert pt 3 before I answer that ask. anyways, please please please let me know if you all enjoyed it!! leave a comment, do a quick reblog, and submit an ask if you want something written just for you! im happy to write for you! thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate you!

#minors dni #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad? #what in hell is bad smut #what in “hell” is bad? #what in hell is bad #whb sitri #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb #whb mc #leviathan x reader #leviathan smut #what in hell is bad satan #what in hell is bad sitri #what in hell is bad x reader #whb satan x reader #whb leviathan x reader #whb sitri x mc #whb sitri x reader #whb mammon x reader #sitri x reader #sitri #sitri whb #satan x mc #mammon x reader

[ncroissant]

can you do more sub Francis mosses??

WANT THAT MAN TO BE FILLED TO THE BRIM AND WHIMPERING SKBDJDBDJC

sub! francis mosses x gn! reader

summary: making lots of milk with francis

wc: 1.8k

content warning: nsfw, lactation, francis in lingerie, feminization, milking, nipple play, overstimulation, dirty talk, porn with no plot, anal, cock can be seen as a strap, mention of cunt

author's note: thank u for the ask, anon :)) I LOVEEEE SUB FRANCIS guys. idk why this was so filthy. like i started writing this with no ideas and a dream (to finish this fanfic). anyways hope u enjoy this, ily guys !! not proof read, minors pleaseee dni !!

if you ever wondered how milk was made, here's how.

there sat your boyfriend in his cow-printed lingerie, all collared up, looking up at you with a bashful expression. his cock was painfully hard, barely contained in his panties.

"feel s'full, dovie..." francis moaned, squeezing his thighs together. he squirmed in his seat, barely containing himself. "milk me?"

he looked up at you with a seemingly innocent expression, but made such a lewd request with his hands cupping at his big chest. you tugged him by this leash, bringing him to his knees on the floor.

"you were so shy when you started making milk," you tugged at his nipple through the bra, slightly soaking the fabric with his milk. "now look at you. always looking so forward to making it f'me," you chuckled at the desperate look at his face.

"m-mhm, wanna make lots of milk for you, hngh...!" he nodded desperately, biting his lower lip to suppress his moans. his hands gripped at his knees, his bottom shaking in anticipation.

you took both nubs between your fingers, rubbing them. "just for me? did you forget this milk's for your neighbors, hm?" you tugged upwards again, making his eyes cross and his teeth grit in pleasure.

"hnghk!"

almost immediately, milk started to leak from his chest, spilling down the sides of his body. you slid the bucket by his waist, letting the droplets roll in.

"this is more than usual, francie," you peered into the bucket seeing a substantial amount of milk in the bucket already. "think i needa drink the leftover, yeah?"

you leaned over, lip pressed against the bra, looking up at his flushed face. his lower lip was quivering and you could hear the thumping of his heartbeat through his chest. "m'kay, hmmngh..."

you latched your lips around the fabric, sucking out the milk that drenched his bralette. your other hand slipped under to toy with his perky nipple.

you slid the fabric off his bouncy chest, admiring the pinkness of his nubs, soaked in his own milk. "oooghh...! t-there's so much, 's so, mmnGHH! so wet, so wet, nnnggh!"

"that's all you honey, taste so sweet f'me," milk was dripping of your chin as you sucked on his sopping wet nipple while pinching the other one.

you could visibly see francis' cock twitching in his cute, little panties at your words, humping the air as you suckled and toyed with his nubs. "aaaagh, 's really c-coming out, hGHK!"

whatever you just did made milk squirt out of his nipples, the substance spraying all over him and into your mouth. you looked up at him while you gulped the substance, fondling his free nipple soothingly.

"didn't know you could do that, honey," you pulled off his nipple with a pop, smirking up at him. he was slumped against the bed, cum sticking to his panties. "lots of milk down here too," you chuckled, rubbing your thumb over his slit through the fabric.

"h-hnnngh! s-sticky...feels, ngh, sticky, dovie..." francis pouted, grinding his bulge against your fingers for friction.

you tugged at his leash to ease his antsy behavior, a moan escaping his lips from the pressure around his neck. "none of that. such a slutty little boy, so eager to be milked, hm?" you cooed, feigning innocence.

he had little tears in his eyes, frowning at the way you scolded him. "'m sorry, dovie. jus' wanna cum lots for you, hm?" he leaned closer, his bottom lip puffed out and soaked.

"you're so pretty, honey. look so pretty in your panties," you continued to rub his slit, as francis collapsed into your hold. "y'gonna keep these on f'me, hm?" you began to stroke at his length, tilting your head down to see him shivering.

"unghh...uh-huh...'m gonna, gnnghh, gonna be good for you," he mindlessly babbled, nodding his head. the way you complimented him made his head swirl and his chest feel fuzzy.

"mhm, always such a pretty boy f'me. always such a good listener," you cooed, tugging his cock through the leg of his panties, stroking faster than before.

francis nodded, eyes rolled back with spit dripping down his lips. "mnngh, mhm...feels so good, dovie," his hand was pressed against your chest in attempts to stabilize himself.

"y'gonna give me lots of milk, right? my pretty princess gonna give me lots of milk, hm?" you squeezed the base of his cock, rubbing with more force.

he squeezed his eyes shut, still nodding at your words. his eyebrows furrowed, concentrating on cumming for you. "h-hnnGH, o-oh, might cum soon...! f-feel it c-coming, 'm cummin! oooghhHHH! cumming!" he moaned, shaking his head.

cum splattered on your shirt and his tummy as you slowed your hand. francis breathed heavily against you, little tears slipping down the sides of his face. "s-so, ghhh...good...."

"feeling alright, honey?" your hands slithered down to his waist, rubbing at his sensitive hips. he bucked them, twitching in your grasp.

"m-more, dovie, ngh...there's still lots of, m-milk left, please," he pleaded, weakly looking at you with tears in his eyes. he wanted you to milk him dry, until he couldn't walk anymore.

you smiled, pinching on his sides playfully. "on your hands 'n knees, honey."

he immediately knew what you meant, quickly getting into place. from the angle you were looking at him from, you could see his erect cock pressed against his flushed tummy and his outline of his balls in his all too tight panties.

"you're so cute, francie," you fondled his balls, making him squirm at your touch.

he groaned, lips pursed into an 'o' at the action. "o-oghhhh...t-there's no milk in there, ngh," he protested, his hips shaking at the way you groped him.

"there's a ton of milk in here. look," you squeezed his balls, cum squirting out of his dick into the bucket you skillfully placed underneath of him.

"HNNNGHK!"

he hated how embarrassingly loud the high-pitched squeal he let out was. he felt like the entire apartment complex could hear the way his moans. but it's not like he minded, he wanted every one to know how good you were making him feel.

"look at you squirting like a pretty princess today, huh francie? such a cute little hole here," you toyed with his slit, making him jolt.

he came three times in such a short amount of time, but he still had more in him. "look at how this one's throbbing for something in here," you removed your hand from his cock to circle your thumb around his pulsing hole.

it was a pretty shade of pink, fucked into so many times that it was basically vertical like a cunt. you rolled your thumb over the wetness of his hole, slipping it in teasingly.

"h-hnk! w-want your cock in here, dovie..." he shook his hips slightly, pressing his backside into your finger to dig deeper than it currently was.

you smirked at his pleading expression, pulling your thumb in. he whined at the emptiness, but squealed out a moan when your pointer and middle fingers plunged back into his hole.

"o-oonngh! s-so deep...!" he threw his head back, eyes rolled to the back of his head.

your fingers jammed so deeply that they just barely nudged his prostate, making him squeal from the sensation. he felt tingles all over his body, blood rushing to the tips of his toes.

"this loose cunt doesn't need preppin', huh? 's soakin' in here," you teased, rubbing the tip of your fingers against that special spot. you were knuckles deep in his hole, he was more than ready.

"i-i can, unngh! take it, dovie! p-prepped myself before, hnnnggGHH!"

you pulled out roughly, spanking his ass roughly with your free hand. you quickly pulled your cock out, stroking it with your slick-covered hand. "of course you would expect more than just milking, greedy boy."

"'m sorry, dovie, i-i jus', ooOGH!"

francis threw his head back, he could see stars when your cock pressed deeply into his cunt. he tightened around you, sucking you in deeper.

you paid no mind to his whimpered, thrusting into him wildly. his jaw went slack, tongue spilling out of his mouth coating his saliva. spit dripped down his chin as his head shook every time you thrusted back into him.

"such a needy little princess. so greedy for my cock, huh?" you tugged harshly at the leash, making him tense up from the pressure around his throat.

he was panting like a dog, but being milked like a cow. he came for the fourth time, squirting all over the ground, completely missing his designated bucket.

"oooNNGH! s-so, fuck, deep!" he mewled out, hearted thumping out of his chest from all the pleasure he was feeling. his tip was throbbing red, tired from cumming so much. but the cum bubbling in his tummy made him think otherwise.

as you tugged at his collar, your free hand reached down to fondle with his nipple. there was still milk spilling out of his tits, dripping down to his tummy, mixing with his cum.

"hnnNGHK! yesyesyes, c-cum in me dovie, please! hnnghh!" he babbled, as you rutted into his cum-filled hole. you cummed long before but he didn't notice until he was filled to the brim with your seed.

you continued to fuck cum deep into his tummy, so deeply that you could see the outline of your cock. "f-fuck, you're so needy today, honey," you grunt, squeezing his tit.

"trained these tits so well. milkin' so much f'me now," you flicked his buds, milk spilling out. this was the second time he squirted from his nipples in one night.

you were slowly losing stamina, despite cumming less than francis. francis was fully fucked with your cum, but still had so much left in him. his breasts were filled with milk and cock still begging for more release.

his mind was so hazy, face flushed from the endless orgasms. you pulled out of his hole, watching the cum seep out. it filled his inner walls generously, so much that it was dripping down his inner thighs.

"n-no! why'd you, hnghh, pull out, dovie?" he whined, shuffling back to stuff himself full of your cock.

when he sat on your cock, even more cum spilled out, dripping on the floor. you roughly sat him down on your lap, his back pressed against your chest.

francis started to grind his hips against your cock, but you shook your head. "no moving honey," you growled, fingers gripping at his hips to still his movements to force him to cock warm you. he really thought he could get away with breaking the rules.

"no...moving, hngh?"

your nails slightly scratched against his chest, little to no milk squirting out now. he almost out of milk. unfortunately for him, as revenge, when you regain your stamina, you wouldn't give him a break.

francis was in for a long night of milking.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #sub francis mosses #milkman #that's not my neighbour #that's not my neighbor #thats not my neighbor #x reader #smut #ncrescent asks

[mobbu-min]

☆ erm, let's not do that ☆

requested by anon! Hi there! So i would like to request The overblot gang with a S/O who likes to pick on their fingers whenever they are stressed and considering what Yuu have to go through, they would have a bloody hand if it werent for the fact they use gloves when they are really stressed out. (They dont wear gloves often because it will look weird when it doesnt fit the outfit but will wear it if necessary). So what are the overblot gang (seperate) reactions when he learns why his S/O pick on their fingers and wear gloves? P.s. you are an amazing writer and i love your work, keep up the good work! Hope you have a lovely day/night!

a/n so it's been awhile... how have you guys been? i've been okay, been dealing with post graduation fatigue and depression. been wondering what the hell am i doing with my world and wondering if things are really worth it. i miss bts, i miss jin and hobi and most of all yoongi. i miss the person i used to be. i miss the person that was my rock for a good few years. i wish this whole life thing wasn;t so hard, but! twst makes my brain go brrrr, so that's good i guess lolol. i'm working on stuff dw! and i'll try to post more, so thank you all so much to those who have been waiting! i love you all!!! <333

characters mentioned: overblot boys!

!tw! blood, would this be considered self harm? (an actual question btw)

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ He’s so concerned. Honestly, when he saw the state of your hands, he gasped like some Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.

⋆ He’s not the type to beat around the bush, but he’s gentle about it. He’s quick to voice his concern for your health and if there’s any way for him to help you. 

⋆ Knowing that he is part of the cause of your pain, sorta sends him spiraling somewhat. It really makes Riddle want to become a better person after seeing the after effects of his tyranny.

⋆ Whenever Riddle sees you picking at your hands, he kinda swats at your hands like an angry cat. A disappointed pout on his soft features. He really tries okay. 

⋆ Riddle will patch your hand up. He’s so gentle about it too. Holding your hands as if they were blessed by the Queen of Hearts (honestly there’s probably a rule about it)

⋆ He’s taken to holding your hand when you're together. He stutters out a quick ‘I-it’s to help you!’ before dragging you away to study. When you're alone, Riddle has the habit of kissing your hands, mumbling sweet words. 

⋆ Overall, Riddle is concerned but willing to do anything to help you.

“If you ever find the urge to harm yourself, no matter how small, I ask you to seek me out. I will always spare you a moment. Afterall, I care about you, please don’t forget that.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ He noticed the state of your hands the moment he met you, but didn’t mention it until you grew closer. Like Riddle, he doesn’t beat around the bush. But unlike Riddle, Leona is so incredibly blunt.

⋆ After you tell him it’s a habit you’ve picked up after certain events, Leona drops the subject. The both of you are too awkward to keep it going. Afterall, you both knew what events could have led you here. Guilt was quick to snag Leona’s heart.

⋆ He’s not upfront about his emotions. Leona’s quite bad with vocalizing his worries, but he’s always been a firm believer in actions over words anyways.

⋆ Expensive gloves, creams and ointments from his land, heck even fidget toys he’s seen Cheka play with, shows up at your door. Anything he believes that could help you, he’s getting.

⋆ If you’re together and your hands get particularly bad, he’s dragging you to the infirmary to patch you up (he ends up snagging/buying bandages to keep on him just in case after) He doesn’t really talk much, but the sentiment is there.

⋆ Like Riddle, Leona will hold your hands to stop you from picking at your skin. His grip is tight, but not in a way that seems like he’s scolding you or mad, but tight in a way that's comforting. As if saying ‘I’m here.’

‘Oi, stop that… Yeah, I’m aware, but I’m here now. Let’s find other ways to deal with your stress, yeah? (whispering) I think I’ve got a few ideas, if you’re up to it, herbivore~’

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ He beats around the bush. Azul is weirddddd about it.

⋆ On one hand, he’s worried about you. On the other hand, his capitalist side wants to find some way to profit off it. Somehow he manages to quell both sides. (he ends up making hand cream/ointment using like floyd’s mucus thing, rip floyd)

⋆ Azul, despite his incessant need to bottle up his emotions for others, finds it hard to ignore the state of your hands, and likewise state of your health, any longer. He doesn’t know how to approach the topic. Does he ask right away? Should he ease you into it? He, for the first time since his overblot, is lost for words.

⋆ He does eventually get the guts to ask and oh boy, he never knew guilt felt this bad.

⋆ Azul kinda sucks at helping you, he won’t hold your hand (only in private) and he’s kinda frivolous with money (so no expensive gifts) but he’s good with his words. And when he sees you starting to pick at your hands, he immediately starts running his mouth. And he can talk for hours. And he’s entertaining too. Leaving you so enraptured by his words that you forget about the need to pick at your skin.

⋆ He’s always good at always keeping you busy. And no this isn’t some way to get free labor out of you. Typically you help him with paper work, just you and him in his little office.

⋆ Azul may always be boasting about how kind he is outloud, but you both know his true kindness is always quiet.

‘Ah, that’s enough paperwork for today. How about we go to the lounge for a few drinks? There’s plenty more I wish to share with you about the stock market.’

Jamil Viper <3

⋆ He doesn’t notice until you’re hissing in pain from something spicy touching your tender skin (listen i know this does make sense, but trust me, it hurts) He’s confused and worried at first and confused and worried after.

⋆ Jamil scolds you for working without some sort of protection while he tenderly washes your hands.

⋆ I feel like Jamil also has some bad coping habits, so he’s quick to put two and two together. He doesn’t ask, but there is a noticeable shift in his behavior. Jamil is a lot more gentle, not in a demeaning way, but in an awkward ‘I want to help you, but idk how, just please appreciate my efforts’ sorta way.

⋆ Since he still has his duties as Vice Housewarden and Kalim’s aid, he’s pretty tight on time, but he tries his best to spare you a few minutes. And if he can’t, you’ll always find a lunch box sitting on your desk.

⋆ Jamil is always willing to bandage your hands if they get particularly bad. He’ll use healing ointment that smells like home and is as gentle as his voice.

⋆ And while he can’t give you extraordinary gifts or talk for hours on end, Jamil is always ready to lend you a hand to heal your own destruction like how you healed him.

‘Stop squirming so much, I’ll mess up your banadages. -sigh- You really have to start wearing some sort of gloves… Mh? What was that?… You like it when I bandage your hand? E-eh- ahem, well if you like it so much, I might as well start charging you. …Ahaha, I never said thuarmarks, did I?”

Vil Schoenheit <3

⋆ He takes one look at your hand and instantly brings out a 12 step hand routine.

⋆ Listen, he doesn't care if you do it out of stress, he’s going to fix your hands while helping you find better ways to handle it.

⋆ He rubs like this gel liquid thing that tastes bad to prevent you from biting away the skin near your nail (it’s an actual thing don’t worry) He’s pulling all the stops to prevent you from injuring your hands even more than they already are.

⋆ Vil often walks the fine line of being really gentle or really strict about it. And it doesn’t stem from his perfection issues, he is just kinda bad at expressing his emotions in a way that is both productive and compassionate. He does care, you’ll just have to look for hidden meanings in his long lectures.

⋆ No doubt, Vil is getting both of you matching gloves with your signature colors as accents.

⋆ The whole 12 step hand routine actually does become routine for the both of you. Typically taking place at Pomefiore, you’ll both talk about your day. Vil sees this as a way to check off all three boxes.

⋆ He gets to do his nightly hand routine.

⋆ You're improving day by day from talking about your emotions with him.

⋆ And he gets to spend one on one time with you!

⋆ It's a win-win situation! And your hands have never been softer!

‘And Epel just had to prove his point, which ended up with him casting a Zip Tight Spell on him. Despite not even being able to move his mouth, I could tell there was so much anger running though his little body. Goodness, how ridicu-hm? Did my little spudling fall asleep? How rude~ -sigh- Sweet dreams, darling~’

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ It’s Ortho that brings up your problem. Worry evident in his voice as he showed pictures of your hands to his big brother.

⋆ Despite being gaming buddies, Idia really never paid attention to your outer appearance. Too preoccupied in his desire to beat you at every game you both play.

⋆ And poor Idia, guilt grabs him by his long ass hair and flings his lanky body across the room multiple times (not really, but in Idia’s head that what's happening)

⋆ Unlike all of the others mentioned, Idia’s way of help is rather unconventional. He’s not good at talking nor is he good at physical touch, but you know what he is good at? Yeah, making things.

⋆ After a long night, Idia shows up at Ramshackle holding a small box. What is in the box? Well your own personal health robocat! This cat is kinda like Ortho just to a lesser degree (think of the robocat seven made mc!)

⋆ Listen, he knows he’s severely lacking in multiple departments of this whole dating, heck even friend, thing, but he is trying! And RoboCat is the ultimate form of his love! It’s quite romantic really.

⋆ Is Grim happy about the new intruder? No! But your health is more important than his feelings!

⋆ Idia swears he died of pure happiness at your expression. His two favorite things together!? Eek! It’s too much!

‘A-and next time you find yourself in trouble, just c-call for Robocat and she’ll come flying!… A laser beam like Ortho? Good idea! I’ll make sure to add it in her name update!’

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ His heart aches to see the pain you put yourself through. If it was up to him, he’d simply whisk you away to a place where no stress could muddle your beautiful mind. If he could, he would kill stress itself.

⋆ But alas, he can’t kill something that doesn’t have a physical form, how sad~ (lilia had to convince him not to go after Crowley)

⋆ Malleus is doing everything he can to help you. Just name it and he’s doing it.

⋆ Multiple gloves made of the finest materials? Got it!

⋆ Healing ointment from the farthest land made from an extinct organism? Done!

⋆ The heads of your enemies? Why didn’t you say so sooner!

⋆ He’s so silly ahahaha.

⋆ But seriously, Malleus sorta never feels stressed (he does, just thinks stress is a human emotion that only humans can feel) but he’s always willing to listen to you. Afterall, you’re always willing to lend your ears to him, it’s the bare minimum.

⋆ Advice? It’s so-so, sometimes he comes off vague but that really just because of his faeness. But he tries and is actively trying to be better, trying to be more intune with your emotions and his. (lilia has been great help, and surprisingly enough, watching silver and sebek on a more friendly level has also helped him be more in tune with emotions)

⋆ You shouldn't have to suffer in silence and he’ll make sure you never will for as long as the universe will let him.

‘You’ve been such a good companion, my dearest child of man, so please let me return the favor. Allow me to see the deepest parts of your soul, of your mind and heart. If you fear that I will cast judgment, do not. I could never judge the soul that has welcomed me with an open heart.’

#riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #mari writes!!! #tw self harm

[lowkeyrobin]

hi pookie can I get an mcyt with reader that bakes?? Like they'll just come in on stream and give mcyts a fucking platter of baked goods lol

-🎀 anon

oooo yes omg!! thank you 🎀 anon! <3 got the whole gang in here for this one LOL

MCYT ; "in my baker era"

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, foolish gamers, slimecicle, karl jacobs, & cellbit

warnings ; language, mentions of drugs

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

"Hi y/n- oh, thank you, darling!'

literally has the widest smile on his face

shows off the goods to the stream

"do these have any drugs in them? me n charlie are trying to sell drugs, y/n. we need more stock"

you hear charlie screaming through tommys headphones, "we need the grain, y/n! we need THE GRAIN"

bro is munching away on those cookies holy shit

he feeds chat as well dw

TUBBO

"Oh, hi y/n/n. wh- ohmygosh, thank you!"

smiles and gives you a little hug before showing off the goodies to stream & his friends

"look what y/n made me! I can't wait to try these" He smiles looking back at you

"new recipe, tell me if you like them"

"will do!"

he gives you a thumbs up as he shoves his mouth full of the cupcakes

safe to say he's a fan of the birthday cake flavored cupcakes

RANBOO

"Hey babe! Oh, thank you!"

does a whole 360 of the plate for chat 💀💀💀💀

"Oh my God, these are so fucking good"

"guys, y/ns in their baking era. can you write an album about that? please become Taylor swift for us"

"BAHHAHAHAH"

literally takes a picture as per usual and posts it to Twitter LMAO

he gets some fans to send you recipes you should try for a serious baking stream LMAO

BADLINU

"Hey love- oh, hi!"

all smiles and shit, he swears you have a sixth sense to know when people are hungry

"guys, y/n made me some bisexuality cake!" He giggles, showing off the tri-colored cake on the plate

he was making a video with harry, tubbo & tommy so everyone had their facecams on

it was like a three tier cake you made and cut out a slice for him

the inside was just the bi flag and the outside was plain white with some fun icing piper testing

he tries it and it's SO MOIST AND SOFT IT IS PERFECT.

there's just 5 raw minutes of him telling you how amazing this fucking cake is LMAO

QUACKITY

"Hey, I'm streaming ba- ohmyfuckinggodthankyou!!"

does a 360 of the plate for the camera

"Holy shit these look so fucking good, thank you so much, y/n"

he's literally just streaming on the qsmp with roeir and fit and he like games and eats the damn cookies at the same time LMFAO

"Dude I feel like I'm high, these are so good, what's in this shit?"

"cocaine"

"WHAT!? DID YOU JUST DRUG ME? GUYS, MY PARTNER DRUGGED ME, HELP"

you're just playing into the bit dw

best red velvet cookies he's ever eaten

CELLBIT

"Hey darling, what's up?"

you hand him the little strawberry shortcake and he just looks at you like 😍😍

turns to his stream and shoves the plate up to the camera all happy like "Oh my God look what they made for me!"

he eats the entirety of it on stream and asks you a bunch of questions

like how you made it, where you found the recipe, etc

he shares it with you too 💔🫶

NIHACHU

"Hi honey! Ooo, what's this called?"

"Chocolate mousse. it's a little thick because it's my first time making it but let me know if it's good"

she holds that little glass like it's her child

she tries it with a tiny spoon you gave her and she's like "oh my God this is amazing, y/n/n"

shows it off to the friends she's streaming with too

"send them more recipes guys, I wanna be spoiled with sweets!"

"thank you nikis viewers!! love you all"

FOOLISH GAMERS

when I tell you this man's face LIGHTS UP.

"you made me fudge? oh my God! I love you"

literally spends the next 15 minutes talking to you and gobbling the fudge down

"since when do you make fudge??"

"since I wanted to try" you shrug

"you should totally make some more... when you're not busy and if you want to!"

"Thank you y/n! everyone say thank you!"

KARL JACOBS

"Hi babe! Oh my God, thank you!!"

literally jumping around

you made him a chocolate cake, and the icing was multicolored and you made sure to make it like karl themed basically

it was so cute omg

"guys!! look what they made me, I love my partner so fucking much!"

gives you multiple kisses before he gulps it down lmaooo

SLIMECICLE

"Oh, hi y/n! thank you so much"

does a 360 for stream

"when did you find time to make this? I thought you were at work????"

"special treat" you shrug

you watch him run across the qsmp and go to ems bakery to sit inside and eat it 😭

he keeps you on stream for a while cause chat loves you n stuff 🫶🫶

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt preferences #mcyt x reader #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #quackity x reader #ranboo x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #nihachu x reader #cellbit x reader #foolish gamers x reader #karl jacobs x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle x reader #niki nihachu x reader #freddie badlinu x reader

[lookingformoondrop]

Yan!Andrew with his Reader who found out she's pregnant? Spoiler: She didn't want to have children.

Yan!Andrew Graves x Preg!Reader

TW: Unexpected pregnancy, hints at abortion, reader in captivity, manipulation, yandere Andrew, unwanted pregnancy

♡ Notes: I wrote this entire thing while on a train so you'll probably find a wild typo or error font somewhere here. I said in my last post that my next work would be a fluffy one, I lied. Sorry. Remember kids, practice safe sex, and dont act like Andy. Thank you so much for supporting me, anon! I appreciate all the requests and asks from you guys. <33

Andrew hummed as he removed his shoes and took off his coat.

Work was a drag, his boss was a dick, and his family was unbearable. But despite it all, he had you at the end of the day.

When he came home, he'd always hear your padded footsteps coming down the hall to greet him.

You'd wear one of his shirts or wear a cute outfit he'd pick out for you, all to make him happy.

He just loves you so much.

I mean, that's why he took you in the first place.

You had no idea who he was, only that he was a customer that came at odd times of the day in the cafe where you worked.

He could only guess how poor the pay must've been. How miserable you were... Yes, that's it.

As he watched you, he could spot the circles under your eyes, and he knew instantly that fate had brought you here, or maybe it was a cult summoning? Either way, you belonged with him. And he would bend heaven and earth to keep it that way.

Andrew blinked away his train of thought and looked up. He hadn't heard your footsteps.

That was unusual.

Andrew quickly slipped his bag to the ground and walked further into the house.

The kitchen was empty, minus the dishes and pots from last night's dinner that still remained untouched in the sink.

The living room was empty, minus the tissues scattered all over the floor, and the blankets that pooled the floor.

With his heart racing, he sprinted to the last room he hadn't checked. The bedroom.

He pushed the door open with haste; his eyes wildly searched the room.

The bed was unmade, and the sheets were shoved off the mattress, trailing onto the wooden floor.

As Andrew stepped further into the bedroom and he could hear the sound of the shower, and small sniffles coming from inside.

Andrew let out a sigh of relief, you hadn't left. You were still home with him. But now he had another problem to deal with.

He knocked on the bathroom door and heard a quick shuffle from the other side. The water turned off and Andrew flinched at the sound of objects crashing.

Then out you came, your eyes were red and your hair was messy, as if your fingers ran through them constantly.

You mustered a smile for Andrew, muttering out a weak 'welcome home' before Andrew grabbed your arms for inspection.

"What happened? What were you doing? Why were you crying?" He craned his neck out to try and look inside the bathroom, but you quickly closed the door.

"I was about to take a shower when you came home so uh, I dropped some bath products when I realized I hadn't greeted you." It was a horrible lie, really. You knew lying was one of Andrew's biggest pet peeves, even if he lied consistently himself.

"My little lamb, you're not making a lot of sense right now..." Andrew tried giving you a sweet smile, but the vein twitching in his forehead told you how he really felt.

His grip on your arms became tighter, and he leaned in closer, "I would like to know what you're keeping from me, please."

"I... I was crying," you cringed at how weak your voice sounded.

"Clearly, what else? Don't stall for time you don't have Y/N. Tell me who hurt you, I don't fucking care for the reason."

You peeled Andrew's hands off of you which was surprising giving his intense tone. You slowly walked to the bed and sat down, tracing the thread that was imbedded in your mattress. Your eyes lingered on the white sheets for a second too long.

Andrew followed suit, instead opting to go on his knees in front of you as to hold your hands.

He traced his name on your wrists with his finger and hummed a low tune, unremarkable at best, but it calmed your nerves.

"You are my bleeding heart, Y/N. Everything you feel, I long to taste, everything you love, I devour, and every secret you keep from me I savagely rip apart to find. What could you possibly keep from me, that I wouldn't find out in under a day?"

You kept still, refusing to meet Andrew's gaze.

"You have to promise you won't.. um, get mad." You chewed on your lip as you thought about your next words. The lump in your throat grew harder to swallow the more you thought about it.

How were you supposed to deliever such... news, when that news made you want to rip your hair out from stress.

"yeah, I promise. My little lamb, tell me, what is wrong?"

"I'm scared, Andrew." You looked up.

"Scared?" Answered Andrew, who let go of your wrists to instead settle around your waist.

He continued, "What could you possibly have to fear while with me? Are you afraid of someone?"

You shook your head, "no, well maybe, not yet I-" You took deep breaths, your chest felt like it was going to crack from the pressure.

"Not yet? What does that even mean?" Andrew furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose, trying to make sense of it all.

"Andrew, do you know what day of the month it is?"

Andy groaned; his patience was begging to grow thin. "Y/N, I'm done playing this game with you. Are you trying to provoke me to extreme measures or something?"

"No! Just... answer the question. What day of the month is it?"

Andrew shrugged, "It's the first of the month. It's my mom's birthday. It's trash day. It's Monday. I don't fucking know what this has to do with our conversation, Y/N!?"

"No Andrew, just listen to me! Look, I usually get my period on the first of every month. But last month I didn't get my period."

"So?" Andrew looked at you with annoyance in his features.

"So.... I should have gotten my period last month, but I didn't. I'm not an irregular person and I've been here awhile so..."

Andrew's features stayed scrunched with confusion and annoyance as the words mulled over in his head.

Then it hit him.

Andrew fell back on his butt in shock, staring at you, your belly, and then back to you. The realization so big that his brain stopped the train to language station.

"You're pregnant?" He muttered.

You nodded, the tears that danced on your waterline finally falling. Your chest shook, and you gasped deep breaths, the pressure you had on your chest this morning, becoming ten-fold the weight as Andrew processed this information.

Your head hung low as the sobs shook your ribcage.

Without realizing it, Andrew got back up and sat beside you on the bed.

Wrapping his arms around your head and body, so that your body pushed against his chest.

A gigantic smile placed itself on his face, every bad thing that happened up until that point dispearred in a cloud. The only thing he could think about was the baby you were growing.

His baby.

Finally, Andrew let you go and grabbed your face, lifting it up so that he could place gentle kisses on your forehead. "My Y/N, thank you. This... fuck, I thought you were going to say something horrible, but this? Shit, this is the best news I could have ever heard, well maybe besides news of my sister's death or imprisonment but shit this is even better!"

His kisses became harder and more passionate. But he hadn't noticed the soul that had left your body. Instead, you looked at him terrified.

"But... Andrew, I'm not ready for this. I- I don't even think I'm old enough to be raising children, let alone birth one. This thing could rip me apart." Your breathing became quicker, the pressure on your chest becoming an unbearable pain.

You were so sure that Andrew would hate the idea of children, that he would have the initiative to take this thing out of you, but he was so happy, so much so he couldn't be bothered to notice your despair.

"Doesn't matter. You need to stop worrying about things that haven't even happened yet. You're pregnant, and that's all that matters. You're pregnant with my baby, and you will live through every moment." His smile never faltered as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, humming a sweeter tune this time and rubbing your tummy.

"I'm not ready," you cried, shaking your head profusely.

Andrew looked up with a smile, trailing his forefinger down the bridge of your nose.

"Doesn't matter."

You held onto Andrew's hands as he leaned forward and embraced you. Sighing deeply into your chest.

"I love our little family. Don't you?"

Thank you for the ask!<3

#the coffin of andy and leyley #x reader #andrew graves #andy graves #y/n #andrew graves x reader #andy graves x reader #headcanons #tw pregnancy #tw yandere #yandere x reader #toxic relationship #not proofread #dark content

[thebellearchives]

I saw your fluff post for Gojo, and sheesh it was so good! If you're still taking requests for your event, can I request fluff #12 for Gojo? 💖

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘

~ satoru gojo ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : it isn’t like satoru’s known for being the most serious of sorcerers out there, so why would’ve you taken seriously all of those flirty jokes of his?

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, first love coded so this one’s about younger gojo!

‧₊˚ a / n : you’re so sweet anon thank you so much ! hope you like this one, i feel like it’s a little bit all over the place, but hopefully no one will pick up on it 💃🏻

Toge ver. || Sukuna ver. || Gojo ver.

“What’s so good about this movie anyway?” Satoru had rolled his eyes behind his glasses with a mocking smile, but still didn’t bicker much more when you sat him down in your couch to watch it.

Surprisingly, you found yourself asking that exact same question in your head. You were eager to watch it because it was an adaptation of a book you had read a long time ago, but now watching it in your TV screen you weren’t sure if was just a terrible adaptation or the book had been this bad too. Maybe you had just been a bit too impresionable when you read it. Maybe if you re read it you’d find out it was trashier than you thought.

Whatever it was your eyes had started to give up after a while, eyelids trying their best to close in search of some nice rest. And you probably would’ve fallen asleep already if it weren’t for this weird sensation of someone watching you. You were alone in your living room with Satoru, so there was no way anyone else had their eyes set on you, but every time you glanced at him he was absorbed in the movie.

You closed your eyes for a second, just a small bit of time to rest, but there it was again. Someone was watching you. So you turned to Satoru for like the fourth time, his blue eyes staring intently at the screen… a little too intently, honestly. You squinted, studying his facial expression. His lips were slightly pursed in an attempt to hold back a smile, and he was so stiff he wasn’t even blinking. Satoru was always up to something, and the fact that he kept you on your toes all the time was probably one of your favourite things about him. So you sighed and opened your mouth to ask what the hell was he up to, but he quickly turned to you with a cheeky smile.

“How long are you planning to stare at me?”

The question took you by surprise. Of course it did, he always did.

“Are you serious?” you quirked an eyebrow.

“Yeah? This is like the fourth time you glance at me. Am I really that handsome?”

You giggled at that, you had always thought he was handsome, but… he was just your friend. Right?

“Am I really that beautiful?” you went along with his joke “I can’t fall asleep when I feel your eyes on me like that.”

“Is that so?” he smiled wider, moving closer to you and forcing you to pick up your legs against you chest to give him space “staring at you like what?”

Defiant, you moved closer to him too.

“That’s what I’d like to know. You keep staring at me instead of watching the film, so what’s up?”

“Me?” he tilted his head, pretending to be confused, biting his lip “I just asked you why you were glancing at me all the time, it was totally not the other way around.”

“You just did it before I had the chance to ask!”

“Nah, you were staring at me first” he winked, a cocky grin on his lips.

“Why are you so desperate for my attention?” rolling your eyes, you let your legs hang from the side of the sofa and straightened your back, leaning towards him just slightly.

“Because I keep trying to flirt with you and you keep dismissing me!” he whined, but his statement only made you laugh.

“What are you talking about?!”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, letting his shoulder hit the sofa.

“You know what I’m talking about…” his irises stared at you above his glasses, almost looking like he was giving you puppy dog eyes “I wouldn’t be here watching this trashy movie otherwise.”

You just stared at him, eyebrows almost meeting in confusion. Yeah, he had always played around like that. But it was just playing! He was always playing! … or was he?

“… 'Toru, are you being serious right now?”

“Honestly, how many times do I have to tell you I am being serious!”

“Listen to you! All whiny and childish, how am I supposed to take you seriou-”

In the blink of a eye, Satoru’s lips were on yours. It took you a second to warm up to his gesture, but your body relaxed. You closed your eyes, lifting up your chin and kissing him back. Your heartbeat quickened and your chest felt like it was on fire. Was your friend Gojo Satoru really kissing you then or had you fallen asleep? Maybe you were dreaming about it. Maybe you were dreaming about the way his lips insistently kissed yours, or about the way your hands held his face to keep him from pulling back. About the way his hands reached out to hold you by your hips, that tiny moment where he gasped for air and kept on kissing you passionately, until his body was hovering over yours and you weren’t sure if you were gasping for air because of the kiss or to calm down the fire he had started inside of you. He inhaled sharply too, your lashes fluttering in confused blinking. There was this longing in the air around you, a need for more of his kisses so unfamiliar to you and yet so alluring.

“Do you think I’m serious now?”

It was just finally making sense, all the pieces of the puzzle finally being completed in you head. All that playing around, smiles and jokes…

“Maybe. I’m not sure. You should kiss me again to see if that works.”

Satoru snorted, but he’d lie if he said he didn’t eagerly comply to that request.

#; fluffy belle #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo

[lovebugism]

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. 

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems. 

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore. 

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you. 

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough.  You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against. 

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles). 

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into. 

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary. 

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you. 

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”  

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her. 

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips. 

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means. 

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you. 

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds. 

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about. 

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place. 

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right. 

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week. 

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now. 

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie. 

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you. 

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call. 

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.” 

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting. 

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer. 

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way. 

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye. 

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm. 

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing. 

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college. 

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs. 

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

 Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be. 

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching. 

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully. 

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease. 

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago. 

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need. 

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret. 

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure. 

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?” 

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading —  and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly. 

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious. 

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for. 

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry. 

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you. 

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him. 

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him. 

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so. 

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes. 

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you. 

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it. 

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats. 

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling. 

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day. 

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down. 

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone. 

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him. 

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold. 

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler. 

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock. 

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.” 

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time.  “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are. 

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were. 

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?” 

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so. 

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.” 

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost. 

But it’s happened before. 

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight. 

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise. 

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak. 

You want him. 

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #virgin!eddie munson x reader #virgin!eddie munson

[ghostheartfelt]

Hiiii! First of all I hope you're doing well <333 and second omg!! I loved your ghost smut 😭😭 I'm here to request smt if you don't mind, I've requested this before but nobody wanted to write it but feel free to not wrote it too if you don't like the plot but here we go:

Ghost breaks up with reader NOT because he hates her but because his next mission is really hard and dangerous and there was a really slim chance that he'd survive it. So he tries to push reader away to not hurt her feelings but things escalated and they break up but when he comes back from the mission they have make-up sex? 🤭 Thank you for reading all of this and if you can't write it then I understand, thank you for your time and effort 💗

*:･｡☆ a/n: hi anon~ thank you so much for being my first req!!!! And thank u so much for  the support. I’m so sorry i took forever to get to this! but you bet ur sweet ass i’ll write this for you?! I hope you enjoy this regardless of how long it took me to get to it. mwah! -ur bbg cure 

〔☆〕 desc: ghost is deployed on a mission in bangladesh that price explains as risky and complicated--ghost immediately thinks of you as the possibilities of survival are described as slim. him, gaz, and soap set out back to manchester, and no amount of talk is able to change his mind. he ends things off between the two of you, which arises a depressive state in you before he arrives and makes it up to you completely. (possibly takes place before ten minutes past?…. 👀)

*:･｡☆ tags: p in v, unprotected intercourse, whiny ghost if you squint, hand job if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, reader orgasms twice, cock warming, he sleeps with the tip inside<3, this hurt my breeding kink heart, pet names, possessive ghost, breast worship if you squint, break up and make up sex, porn with feelings. SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!! not too bad, sadly.

—✩ N[EX]T REGRETS ✩—

word count — 4.3k

☆ (peep the song that inspires this writing...) ☆

Your hands are setting two plates on the dinner table; one for you, one for your boyfriend.

He was coming home from deployment—it’d been months since you’d last seen him, you’d lost track.

Silverware wrapped in cloth napkins are set beside the plates before you flick the cog of a lighter and ignite the candles in the middle of the table.

You turn yourself around to grab the cookie sheet of ribeye off of the counter after pushing on mittens, holding it in your palm as you place two steaks down onto one of the plates, then one onto another. 

Then you take the tray back to the counter and set it back on top of the table cloth so it didn’t damage the marble.

Regardless of the fancy dinner setup, you were still in a black satin night dress and fuzzy socks. You knew Simon would just dress down himself the moment he got home.

You scooped steamed vegetables onto both plates, then potatoes and gravy with a sprinkle of chives. 

When you place down the spineless wine glasses, you hear a heavy door slam causing a smile to crease your face.

Simon was home, he was going to come inside and he was going to hold you again for the first time in months. Run his hands through your hair for the first time in months. Kiss you for the first time in months.

You seat yourself gently on the dinner table, ankle crossed over the other with your elbows bent and palms pressed neatly on the wood as you wait for him to come inside.

You hear the door open, then shut, heavy padded footsteps approaching the threshold of the dining room.

Ghost is the one who comes through the archway—fully geared with the skull mask and helmet, the only thing he lacks is a rifle.

“Simon…?” You push yourself off your palms, confusion whisked on your face.

It was one of your rules, the mask stays off inside your home.

His eyes land on the neatly set table before they reach yours. 

You approach him slowly and he tenses, your eyebrows stitching together in concern.

His stomach twists inside of him.

Gorgeous minx.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Beautiful perfection.

He couldn’t say anything he wanted to—and god he had so much to say.

Your eyes flicker to the windows alongside the front door seeing two other bodies.

Armed bodies.

He wasn’t staying.

“Can you all stay for dinner atleast? I made enough for everyone…” you smile softly while fumbling with the straps of his vest. 

Stop touching me, you’re making this harder on me. Ghost swallows the knot in his throat. 

There’s a pause before Ghost backs up.

“There’s someone else.” 

It’s a lie, it’s a lie. It’s such a lie. Ghost 

Something inside your chest tightens and you swear that it’s your heart. 

“What?…” You scoff lightly, your eyebrows pinching together in disbelief.

Don’t make me say it again. Ghost inhales sharply.

“Simon…” you tilt your head slightly, extending your hand to touch him.

“Please, let me try to be better for you, give me a chance…” your lips quiver. 

You don’t need to try and be better for me. Ghost thinks.

He knew you’d been reading articles on how to be in a relationship with someone in the special forces—he’d found out and closed the lid, sat you in his lap and kissed you so softly, telling you that you were perfect for him and you didn’t need an article to tell you how to love him.

But you know it’s real when Ghost jerks his shoulder away.

You know it’s real when you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as tears start welling in your eyes. 

You know it’s real when Ghost’s eyes evade yours. 

You know it’s real when Simon turns around and he doesn’t spare you a goodbye.  

You especially know it’s real when the door slams shut and rattles the walls around you.

It’s surreal, but you expected this. 

He must’ve found someone on base, you thought.

You feel your knees give in beneath you, and you’re met with the floor.

A hysterical sobbed scream leaves your throat as your trembling hand lifts to drag down at your lips.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

Ghost stands for a moment on the doormat outside of your home. 

Gaz’s hand finds a place on his back, the other holding his vest as he guides the larger male towards the truck they’d arrived in.

“Didn’t have to do that, Ghost.” He says, followed by a sigh.

“Did.” Ghost replies back as he seats himself in the back. “Wasn’t lettin’ her get my dog tags—she’s been through enough bein’ with me.”

Soap turns his head over his shoulder after sitting in the front passenger seat. 

“Ay, L.T, we all know y’ll make it back t’ya pretty lass.” He says. “Y’r one of we bes’ fighters, ain’t that righ’, Kyle?” Soap’s elbow bumped into Gaz’s ribs.

Gaz utters a strained noise before nodding, hands wrapping around the wheel.

“‘M not takin’ that risk, now shu’up ‘n drive. Cap’s gon’ ‘b pissy enough.” 

His head turns to look out the window as he feels the wheels of the truck roll down the driveway.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

It’s been seven months. Two-hundred-thirteen days. 

All you do is work, eat, and sleep. 

Eating, not as much as you should.

You couldn’t cook, couldn’t get yourself up from your bed the second you got home from work to start the stove.

You either sleep all day or not at all, there wasn’t a balance.

God, your living room was disgusting. Snot tissues were littered across the entire coffee table, empty champagne glasses, crusted food plates and crushed soda cans.

You’d resorted to hiring a maid just to clean your living room—which was the only room you stayed in for five months straight while your depression started getting progressively worse.

You lay on your side with a weighted blanket draped over you, holding you down comfortably. 

Simon stayed in your head, even after half of a year. He invaded your head. It drove you insane.

At the same time, you were scared of the day that he wouldn’t be your first and last thought each and every day anymore.

You bunch the blanket closer to your chin, your wet eyes have drenched the little area to hell. 

Things just have never been the same since Simon left the house–-you still happened to feel his presence next to you, hovering over you. 

“There’s someone else.”  His words settled an uneasy weight on your shoulders that you still were unable to shake off. 

A splutter of sobs escapes you once again, tears blurring your vision as they fall and your nose starts to clog. 

You try to breathe in, but you feel as though there’s not enough air around you. You breaking into a coughing fit is enough for you to push the weighted blanket off of your body and heave yourself up. 

Spit and drool creates several small strings between your lips–you’re practically foaming at the mouth from how hard you’re crying.

Tears flutter off your eyelashes and further blur your vision, so you try and rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms desperately. 

You stand up wobbly and start towards the bathroom, you didn’t have the energy to walk the extra couple of steps into your bedroom to use your own bathroom, so the guest bathroom would have to do for now. 

You turn the shower knob and pull it out towards you after undressing, then step into the warmth and sink onto the shower floor, hugging your knees to your bare chest and letting the water run over your face. 

Sobs cause your body to twitch and jerk, the heat in your eyes making your eyes burn as your breathing grows unsteady over the stream of water above you. 

You just wanted him home. 

But, he wasn’t yours to want home anymore. 

He wasn’t yours to crave anymore or to love. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

A door slams so hard air causes the fabric of his shirt to flail in the wind. 

Ghost had spent months struggling with the actions of his decision, where he had hoped that the choice would break you free of your shackles of worries when it came to the blonde when he was away. 

He spent every night and every rising morning worrying someone would take his place. It would’ve been his fault, he knew that, and it made him want to scream at the top of his lungs until they felt raw in his chest. 

He presses the lock button on his keys, hearing the locks inside the jeep click, then he jumbles with his keychain looking for the house key.

Ghost’s hands are shaking as he pinches the specific key and jabs it into the door lock, turning it.

When he hears the all-familiar click, he immediately pulls off his balaclava and pushes himself through the front door. 

There’s silence–pure silence throughout the house except for the sound of running water. 

She’s showering. 

A short amount of relief washes over him as he bends to untie the laces of his boots, placing them aside. 

When he stands, his eyes scan over to the living room and he feels his heart sink in him at the sight of the absolute mess made of the living room.

An overflowing laundry basket and take-out boxes that made the room stink of old fried rice. 

He throws his bag behind him against the wall before he walks himself towards the pile of laundry and begins pulling out shirts and pairs of pants to fold against his knee. 

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

You took a two hour shower, most of it being of you shredding any form of emotion from your body that you could.

Now you were sitting on the fur-covered toilet seat, running your lotion-coated hands along your freshly shaven legs. 

You told yourself you would try going to a club to replenish your sex deprivation. 

Steam finally clears from the mirror allowing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands pull the towel off your head, wet hairs sticking to your shoulders.

The bathroom smelt of your coconut milk shampoo and body wash–it smelt divine. 

You thumb up your white laced bra and panties, plug in the blow dryer and scrunch your mop in your hands as you wave the blow dryer over your hair.

It seems like hours, being only nearly ten minutes until your hair is somewhat dry, but your arms are tired, so you unplug the dryer and wrap the cord around it.

You leave the bathroom and walk back into the living room, pausing in motion at the sight of it being clean–your laundry being neatly folded on the coffee table. 

“Kris? Is that you?” You call, not too loudly. 

She had a key to your home, but she had stated she wouldn’t be available this week due to some personal reasons she wasn’t required to go over with you.

You walk over towards the couch and drag your hand along the cotton material.

There was no reply to your call, which concerned you. You hadn't contacted any of your family members to come visit.

You slowly turn yourself around and the breath is practically stolen from your lungs. 

Simon’s standing across the room from you, clad in a black t-shirt and jeans, a belt secured in the front.

You watch his eyes drag up and down your exposed body, watching as he inhales sharply while his eyes narrow.

“Love,” He mumbles. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your neck up. “Why–why are you here?” “Will y’let me explain?” He sighs. 

“Does she know?” You reply quickly with a shaky voice. 

“Does wh–” 

“Does she know you are here, Simon.” 

There's silence, then he licks his dry lips.

“There is no she.” He says flatly.

“No,” you scoff, running a hand down your face, eyes darting to the side as you listen to him walk closer toward you. “No…no. No–I remember specifically…” your angry, now.

Simon catches your lips in a firm kiss, but you push him away, and the look in his eyes makes your chest ache.

“Please,” Simon’s eyebrows pinch together. 

“Stop, just stop.” You seethe, pressing your finger into the midsection of his chest making him back up some. “You said there was someone else, you said–”

“I was lyin’, there wasn’t.” He pauses, frowning.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head. “Fucking bullshit, Simon Riley!”

“Let m’talk.” Simon says gruffly, his tone stern. 

You swallow thickly and lower your head in defeat after nodding, finger lifting so you can chew on your cuticle bed. 

“I…I let a debriefing get t’me. Said there wasn’t much’a chance of survival–can’t say much, y’know that…but I didn’t want y’to have to go through that.” He explains. 

His hand reaches down to lift your chin, thumbing at any stray tears making their way down your cheeks. “Forgive me, lovie.” Simon leans down to close the gap between you both again, this time you submit and his hand cradles the back of your head. 

The kiss is slow and passionate–gentle with its hints of dominance. 

“Missed you…” He mumbles over your lips, hands finding your ass to knead the supple skin.

You gasp slightly, but cave in to his touch instantly. “And I missed you…” 

“Please…never do that again.” 

His forehead rests on yours a moment, fingers toying in your hair by rolling pieces between his fingers.

“‘M sorry.” He murmurs. 

He wasn’t the type to apologize, you knew that. His apologies were sincere and meaningful.

Your hands grip his shirt.

“Over half a year, Simon…” Your voice is so low, you couldn’t even call it a whisper. “This whole time…”

“I know…I know…” He mutters into your hair, taking in your scent. 

“Will y’let me make it up to ya, love?” Hot breath rakes over the side column of your neck.

You simply nod, and that’s all enough for him to pick you up by your thighs and for you to wrap your legs around his waist and rut against him.

He guides you both into your bedroom, seating you on the edge of the bed.

“So fuckin’ sexy when y’r half-naked ‘n angry…” Simon chuckles dryly as he drags a finger up your clothed cunt. 

“Simon…please…” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ve got’ya, gorgeous.” He says cooly while laying you flat on the bed. 

Simon slips his fingers past your panties, his cock twitching in his pants at the feeling of your wetness spreading along his fingers.

“Ffff..uck, babe, you're so wet for me ‘lready…” he whispers.

You gasp as his finger slips up and down between your folds, making you twitch as he passes your throbbing clit.

“So fuckin’ divine…” he purrs above you, eyes full of love and lust. His other hand finds a place on your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he works at your warmth.

You whine, watching as his teeth bite at the lace lining of your panties, pulling them down as his eyes don’t stray from yours.

“Oh…fuck…” you bite your lip gently, the action making you fanny flutter to the point of aching.

“Jesus…” he breathes against your thigh, pressing his lips along the skin and sucking it until he’s satisfied with the markings.

Simon scoops up both of your legs by the crooks of your knees, spreading them apart as he shifts down to rest his knees on the ottoman spread across the end of the bed.

A shuddered moan releases from you as his tongue prods at the hole in your cunt, then drags up to swirl around your sensitive bud. 

Your hand grabs a tight hold in his hair, making him groan against your core and increase the pressure and sensation in your stomach.

A whimper leaves your throat as he sucks and laps at your pussy, making you buck into his jaw.

“Jus’ like that, baby,” he growls onto you, pressing a wet kiss onto your clit. “Y’gon cum all over m’face like a good girl?” 

You mewl and cry out as Simon slips a finger inside, your back arching and thighs jerking.

“Simon!” You gasp loudly as your fingers dig into his back over his shirt.

His tongue drags flatly up your cunt, collecting all your juices—he’s practically drinking you. 

Another finger pushes inside gently, curling inside that same spot he’s able to find so effortlessly each time that makes you go wild.

“Gon’ c…cum…” you stutter meekly.

“C’mon then,” he urges. “Cum f’r me.”

Simon quickened his pace and the pressure, pumping his fingers in and out, in and out.

Like he was starved, his face presses closer into you, tongue toying at your clit making you twitch against him.

There’s an unbearable heat between your legs as you feel a knot tie in your abdomen when Simon levered his fingers deeper into you. 

“Good…” he groans, pressing his tongue inside with his fingers as your walls clamp around him desperately, a strained moan leaving you as your orgasm snaps.

You cum, hard, and grip his shoulders with both hands as his fingers fuck your orgasm back into you before he finally pulls his fingers out to coat your thighs in your climax.

Simon sucks out his work, then spits it back out onto your heat, slapping your pussy and releasing a deep groan.

He licks his fingers clean, his tongue sliding between each finger. 

You lift yourself up by gripping his belt, slightly wobbling before his hand finds a spot to rest on your back.

“Fuckin’ hell…cum drunk ‘lready, sweets?” Simon bends down to take your mouth onto his, taking the chance to slip his tongue between your lips when you moan into his.

Gently, you palm his hard cock over his pants, eyes squeezing shut then opening to find your place on his belt and fumble with the buckle.

“Mm—y’find what you were lookin’ f’r?” He pants heavily before his lips trail down your jawline to lick and suck at your neck. 

“Oh..fuck…” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin. 

“Want you so bad, Si…” you moan, lifting your head to grant him better access. “Want to feel you inside of me.” 

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room while he kicks off his pants that you helped pull down Simon’s hips, lips then coming back down to tease at your collarbones and neck.

“Ooh..ho…you will, don’t y’worry, sweet girl.” His cock sprung free out of the restraints of his boxers, making him groan hoarsely.

Simon’s fingers tap on the outerside of your thigh. “Turn over,” he demands.

You babble out nonsense that is incoherent as you flip on your stomach and one of his hands gather both of your wrists. 

He’s on the bed now, between your legs with one hand holding you up by your stomach. 

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, lips trailing up your spine.

“Y’want it?” He growls. “Huh?”

He inhales sharply, nudging the tip into your greedy hole. “God…you do…” 

“J’s suckin’ me in like th’needy little pet y’are.”

You moan out a chant of pleases, cheek pressing into the comforter of the bed as he arches and positions you to his liking.

“Y’want this thick cock in y’r empty pussy.” 

“Yes…” you mumble, backing into him 

softly until you take in his entire tip which causes the larger man to apply more pressure into your stomach. “Fuck me, please…please…”

“Oh…Mmm…Such a good girl beggin’ f’r my cock.” Simon praises, letting you bounce on his tip for a few moments.

“Tha’s right baby…jus’ like that…I own this pretty little cunt, don’t I?” He snarls. “Nobody else’s to fuck.” 

“Only yours, just yours,” you nod helplessly, earning a positive noise from the man behind you.

He takes in a sharp breath before slowly he inches himself into you farther, stretching you. 

Filling you.

You moan loudly, your walls closing around his length making him push out the same noise.

When he bottoms out in you, his tip kissing your cervix, he retracts and ruts back into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he hisses and breathes harsher at every thrust.

“Oh…” he sighs in ecstasy, releasing your wrists so he can grab the fat on your waist.

“Yes…” he moans, every contact with your hips causing the breath in his mouth to jump and fall.

“Tight little pussy just swallowing me,” Simon hisses through clenched teeth as he painfully yet deliciously stretches you open to his size. “So—fuckin’ sexy.” 

“Want y’to cum in me, please…” You gasp, clawing at the comforter as he bucks himself deep into you, filling you up and emptying you, repeating that motion over and over.

“Want me to fill y’with my seed?” He chuckles, a moan interrupting him. “Tha’s what my slutty pet wants?”

“Fucking yes! My god, yes…” you pant, muttering and whining unintelligibly as he slams back into you and makes your ass slap against his thighs. 

“Too bad,” he croons.

“Simon…pl..ease..” you moan.

“No…no, I can’t…cum in ya, love. We—we ain’t thinkin’ straight…” Simon’s cock twitches inside of you as he continues ramming his hips into yours, a guttural groan tearing out of him. 

“I can feel y’tightenin’ around me, j’s beggin’ to cum around my fat cock…” 

“There y’go…Bounce that gorgeous ass on me, j’s how I like it, babe.” Simon strains, hand roughly smacking the skin on your hind. 

You squirm against him, making the blonde growl and grab your hips with a bruising grip. “Y’feel me stretchin’ y’r tiny pussy?” 

“Mhm? Y’do?” He grunts, heaving above you as he thrusts himself into you. “Fuckin’ take it, filthy fuckin’ minx.”

“Look at you, such a pretty pet, bent to my content…Pussy out on display.” 

“Gonna cum, gorgeous, all over your perfect belly.” He mumbles and flips you onto your back.

You moan shamelessly and loudly, whining as he pulls out of you and starts stroking himself while playing with your pussy.

“Fu…u…ck…” his head leans back as you massage his balls and replace his hand. “J’s likeee…that, perfect girl…”

He rubs his middle and pointer finger over your clit at an inhuman pace, making your body jolt and try to push away if it weren’t for his hand holding you roughly in place.

You roll your wrist up and down, pumping his cock in your hand until he takes control again and smacks his tip against your lower abdomen, spilling out his cum onto your stomach with a choke of your name.

Simon’s body twitches, pants and swears rolling off his tongue in a pleading voice as he covers you in his warmth.

“C...C’mon lovie, cum all over my fingers again, let me sss…see y’come undone f’r me again…N…Need to see it…” He stumbles over his words as he comes off his high, an undertone of a whimper in his voice.

It makes you pool, your ego skyrocketing at the fact that you can do that to someone. To him.

Simon’s fingers hit every perfect nerve inside your pulsating cunt, curling and plummeting into the same spot of overwhelming pressure that brought you over the edge. 

A tightness coils in your stomach again, and he absolutely fucking loves the strained noises that spill out from you at every rut of his fingers inside of you.

He loves the way he can get you wrung out at every pet name and gentle touch, the way you clamp your thighs together at the smallest motions.

Simon knew your body better than you did, and he fucking loved it. He knew every spot that drove you absolutely mad and every crevice that had the ability to make you beg just how he wanted. 

Your eyes shoot open from their half-lidded proportion as Simon finds a certain spot that sends electricity throughout your entire body, making you cry out and dig your nails into his scar-ridden flesh.

“Righ’ there, huh, princess? Righ’ there?” He hisses which drawls out to a throaty growl, hammering that same spot with more pressure. “Couldn’t stand bein’ away fr’m this pussy f’r so long…” 

You chant ‘yes’ over and over again until your gasping and panting his name, your breath catching in your throat as you let out a loud cry through your climax, thighs trembling as they slowly close around his forearms in reflex.

He lifts your thighs up again and sits you on his lap as he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Did s’good for me, lovie. Mmm…S’proud of you, baby.” Simon whispers, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss as he presses his cock inside of your warmth, pushing your climax back into you in a tranquil motion. 

“‘M gonna be right back, okay?” You coo against his lips as you swing your legs over the bed, he gives you a small ‘mhm’.

You quickly give yourself time to use the bathroom, then wash your hands before you walk yourself back into the room, crawling back into his lap before he turns the both of you to the side.

Simon unclips your brassiere and drops it onto the floor, cups both of your breasts in his palms and moans as you slide yourself back down onto his cock.

“Mmh…So warm…” he whispers huskily while kissing the nape of your neck down to your collarbones.

He spoons you, lulling you into a state of drowsiness as he gently massages your tits. Simon’s breath is a gentle pattern over your neck, gentle snores leaving the barriers of his lips after his hands go still.

You don’t take long to catch sleep right behind him, turning your head a moment to peck his wet lips before you’re able to finally shut your eyes.  

#ghostheartfelt #ghostheartfelt writing #simon ghost x reader #mw2 smut #ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost imagine #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley imagine #ghostheartfelt ;; 👻 #ghostheartfelt writing ;; 👻

[fallingintoyourlilaceyes]

Positively unstoppable (Halsin Silverbough x reader)

synopsis: It is the height of bear mating season and with the heat around all of you, you and your group are forces to stop traveling for a while. Well, it seems your lover is not quite comfortable telling you it is mating season as he is scared you are weirded out. Yet he also can´t hold himself back when faced with you.

warnings: p in v sex, mating press, Halsin in heat should be his own warning, some bear like behaviour ig, basically porn without plot, kinda fluff at the end, afab reader

word count: 1.5k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @foxyanon

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon that requested Halsin in heat as soon as they saw my post about researching bear mating season for this <3

Dividers by me

The heat of the height of summer was burning down harsh upon your traveling bodies, bringing your party to a screeching halt when the only thing possible, was to put up camp and find a way to cool down your overheating forms. As soon as your tent is set up, you decide to head to the river nearby, wanting to cool down in the little lake it ended in.

Only after you rid yourself of the clothing and stepped into the water, you notice the towering form of Halsin sitting close by already, his eyes focused on the flow and movement of the river. From the movement of his shoulders, it was clear that he was breathing deeply, most likely meditating. For a moment you contemplate going over to him, but when you look back to where he sat Halsin was already gone. Or so you thought until the water began to ripple into small waves upon the druid stepping into it. He looks tense. More than usual and for sure more than the past couple of weeks, which honestly you didn´t think was possible.

“Are you feeling well? You have been behaving differently for quite some time now.” You voice your concern quietly as to not disturb the peace of the nature surrounding the two of you.

“I can assure you, that I am feeling quite alright.” His words hold relatively little meaning in the face of the way he borderline flinches away from your touch as you begin to run the water over his warm skin. Or the voice that comes out is gruff, yet you can feel his breath hitch just the slightest bit. Immediately you pulled your hands away from him, trying to see through him. A futile attempt so you take his hands in yours and look him deep in the eyes.

"Love, I would be fine even if you told me, you do not wish to talk about it, but just tell me truthfully. Are you alright?" Looking into his eyes, Halsin's pupils have swallowed almost all the green that surrounds them.

In what you perceive as just a sweet attempt to calm your worries, the tall man leans down to rest his forehead against yours, while holding your chin in one gentle hand.

"I am fine." He put emphasis on every word he speaks.

But you are so close and your scent so much stronger than the rest of the year, singing to him in the most irresistible tones. It all made the druid unable to keep himself from nuzzling your face and neck, thus eliciting a so far successfully held back moan and a shiver of arousal runs down your spine. A ripple of pleasure runs through your entire body when he begins to nibble on the tender skin.

"Halsin..." His name trembles from your tongue.

"You're mine." He only growls in return.

It's a rarely seen show of possession from your lover and all the more powerful whispered in the low baritone of his affected voice.

Halsin picks you up as if you weigh nothing and lays you in the grass at the riverbank and doesn't waste a second to crawl on top of you. With one swift motion he hooks his large, muscular arms into the hollow of your knees to lay them over his shoulders.

"Damn it, I cannot wait any longer. Your folds simply feel too immaculate." The druid breathes out the trembling words as he rubs his hard cock between your folds to tease the sensitive bundle of nerves atop it with his tip.

With one strong push and a sigh that fans his hot breath over your ear and cheek, Halsin bottoms out inside your tight cunt. In turn, your walls flutter around his thick member and your back arches until your chest squishes your legs even more between the two of you. 

"Oh, you feel so good inside of me. Always stretch me out so much it's like my cunt will take the shape of your cock one day." You babble mindlessly as you get used to the stretch that feels like it threatens to split you in two.

Halsin doesn't give you much time to get used to his massive size as he sets for an ambitious pace, pushing into your core painfully over and over again until your pained whimpers and moans turn into sounds of pleasure and begging for more.

"Please do not ever stop." You cry out as Halsin's massive paw of a hand begins to pinch and twist your nipples, losing control of himself a bit more and taking the pace and intensity of his thrusts up a notch. One of your hand buried its nails in his shoulder to attempt to ground yourself, while the other grips and lightly pulls on his hair. Immediately your companion leans down to seal your lips with his, kissing you with teeth and tongue. The moment your lips meet, he is positively unstoppable.

You get pushed into the grass with his whole weight, his balls slap against your ass cheeks as you get rocked back and forth by inhumanely, animalistic thrusts. The wet sounds of the tip of Halsin´s cock bullying your most sensitive spot, drenching it in your juices as a result and making the sounds of your hips slapping against each other wetter as time went on. It felt so good that the brain fog soon took over, rendering you unable to kiss him back any longer.

“Nothing feels so divine as your tight walls fluttering around my cock.” Your brain barely registers the words the druid huffs against your lips before kissing you again. Unwavering despite the fact your lips hang open ever so slightly to make way for shaky breaths and high pitched, eager whines.

“Fuck, I can feel you are close, my love. Your cunt could not possibly squeeze me any tighter.” Halsin lets out another insatiable growl, before he coaxes the first peak out of your body. Revelling in the sight of you being shaken by the waves of pleasure he provides.

“Halsin…” You moan the druids name like a mantra, like a quiet prayer to your own personal god that simply continued to bless you with the pleasure that still caused your body to tremble in the aftershocks of climax.

Two more peaks he pulls from your body until you are nothing but a puddle of panting breaths overstimulated cries and a lose grip that tries to hold onto his shoulders, to hold your legs where he put them. Only then Halsin bottoms out inside of you once more. Buried as deep as he can, with his thick tip kissing the opening to your womb, he shoots a great amount of his seed into you. Together the two of you stay intermingled for what feels like an eternity. With your arms wrapped around the other to hold them close as you breathe in the air that the other lets out until you both feel dizzy. The druid wipes the sheen of sweat from your forehead with the greatest care and strokes a lost strand of hair behind your ear, while all you can do is to fight the brain fog and keep his eye contact. Those sage coloured eyes you loved so much, gently get you back to reality, where there is nothing left but to giggle until you burst into full on satisfied laughter.

“Hah, I had a feeling you would go insane on me one day. Yet I never would have imagined it would happen after I laid with you.” Halsin jests as he sits back on his haunches and taps your thighs to motion for you to assist him in sitting you up as well.

You follow his wordless command and sit up, wincing when there is a dull sensation shooting through your core.

“Do you feel aright, my love?” He asks with his eyebrows suddenly knitted together in concern.

“Yes, love. Positively spend, but fine nonetheless and you need not worry about my state of mind any time soon.” You lean forward to place a peck on the tip of your companion’s nose. “I was merely overwhelmed with the content feeling that floods me whenever I am near you and did not know how else to handle it. In fairness one should think I would have learned it by now, but I am far from it. It still is so hard to believe I am lucky enough to be able to call you mine.”

Gratefully you accept the small pouch of water that Halsin hands you and take a few sips, before handing it back.

“I understand what you mean. Sometimes it all feels like it is too good to be true. Like being on the verge of waking up from the most beautiful dream.” The soft voice of your lover makes you feel all fuzzy inside with how effortlessly he understands.

“Exactly, like being on the verge of waking up from the most immaculate dream.”

#halsin #halsin bg3 #druid halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin x reader #halsin bg3 x reader #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfic

[7ndipity]

Mine

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Joon gets easily jealous, but do you mind, really?

Warnings: Swearing, Joonie’s kinda possessive, very suggestive

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took a few extra days, this month’s been a lot, but we’re finally starting to feel better! This one started off angsty in my drafts but somehow turned out way more suggestive than I planned (At what point should I start a blog for spicy fics? lmk)

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on in Namjoon’s head that evening, mouth pressed into a hard, thin line as he only half followed the conversation he was currently in the middle of, but you could feel the weight of his eyes constantly tracking you from across the room as you talked with one of the other artists that were at the event Joon had invited you to as his plus one.

You fought the slight urge to roll your own eyes as you caught his hard stare through the crowd, trying your best to ignore him for the moment and keep your focus on your own conversation.

This was starting to become a recurring situation between the two of you; if he saw you getting too close (in his opinion anyway) to another guy, or sometimes anyone at all, his stubborn jealousy would rear its ugly head, turning your normally sweet and understanding boyfriend sour and possessive.

He, of course, vehemently denied that that was what it was, that the other person was just giving him bad vibes and he was just looking out for you, although you couldn’t help wondering if/when he would notice that the those ‘vibes’ he kept picking up on was just their interest in you.

Almost as if on cue, you felt a familiar pair of hands land on your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing patterns against your sides through the fabric of your outfit, though it was unclear whether it was meant to calm you or him.

“Having a good time?” He asked, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. You didn’t miss the way his tone went up at the end in annoyance, despite his rather feeble attempt to mask it.

“I am, what about you?” You replied, tilting your head to look back at him.

“I think I’ve had my fill of socializing for one evening. Shall we go?”

“Do we have to?” You asked.

“I would like to.” He said, leaning closer. “I’ve also had my fill of other people stealing your attention from me.” He whispered in your ear, making you shiver.

The car ride home was unusually quiet. You noticed that he was still tense based on the way he was gripping the steering wheel, but you chose to leave it be, leaving him the responsibility to present the topic to you if there was something truly bothering him.

You barely made it through the door though before he was on you, catching you in a bruising kiss as he pressed you back against the wall.

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” He mumbled against your lips. “Couldn’t stand the way they kept looking at you.”

“They weren’t.” You gasped between kisses.

“You don’t see what I do.” He said, trailing kisses over your jaw and down your neck to your pulse point.

“Who cares?” You replied, hands struggling to find purchase on his shoulders.

“I do.” He practically growled.

“You shouldn’t.”

Your response made his head whip back up to look at you. “Why the fuck not?”

“Because they don’t matter.” You said, cupping his face in your hands, feeling the heat of his skin against your palms. “I only want you, no one else. You believe that, right?”

He sighed, instinctively leaning into your touch. “Of course I do, I just don’t like people thinking that they can take what’s mine.”

“Yours?” You raised your brows at him. ”What, like you own me?”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not! You belong to only yourself. But-” He stopped, unsure of how to continue.

“But?” You urged, catching him off guard as you wound your hands into his hair and gave a quick tug.

His eyes darkened. “But you're mine.” He pressed another hot kiss to your mouth, stealing your breath as he spoke. “You’re mine and I’m yours. Only yours.”

You relented for the moment, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of him as his hands ghosted over your body, making you press even closer to him.

"Mine."

#namjoon oneshot #namjoon scenario #namjoon scenarios #namjoon drabble #namjoon blurbs #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #bts scenarios #bts one shot #bts reaction #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts blurb #bts smut #bts requests #7ndipity

[chamomiletealeaf]

Heeeey!! I love your posts very much and it is my first request, sooo… sorry if I do something wrong! ❤️

Can you please write about tft141 men and partner with vaginismus? I read about it only ones and I so love the idea. thank you in advance! ❤️

Hi anon! So sorry it took so long to get to this ask. I have a lot in my inbox to clear.

I think the 141 boys would be super sweet about it tbh. They'd definitely find other ways to pleasure you if penetrative sex hurts too much.

warnings: afab! fem reader, vaginismus, oral sex f! receiving, thigh fucking

Johnny I think would be the most creative tbh when it comes to his partner having vaginismus. He doesn't want to hurt you, so he'd be more than happy to find other ways to have fun with you. He'd definitely love to thigh fuck you, rubbing his cock against your bare pussy, hitting your clit perfectly. Thigh fucking would be his favorite way to get the both of you off. It's a win win. He gets to fuck your thighs and cum all over them, and you get to cum from his thick cock rubbing against your clit. He'd love thigh fucking you in doggy, or from behind against a wall. It's just so fucking hot to him. He loves your thighs and would love seeing you in cute thigh highs or garters all bent over for him so he can pound into the soft, tight squeeze of your thighs.

"Fuck bonnie keep 'em just like that. Look at how wet your thighs are fuck. Little cunny makin' a mess of 'em hm? Can slide right in. Cute fuckin' thighs squeezin' me so good."

Gaz wouldn't mind fucking your thighs either. He loves it too. He would like when you fuck him with your thighs just as much though, rocking your hips back and forth on him until he shoots his cum all over you. And don't even get him started on tit fucking my god. That makes him lose his mind. But his favorite would be pussy jobs from you. Rubbing his cock back and forth against your slit with your legs spread apart for him makes the two of you cum so hard from how hot it is.

"Yeah sweetheart that's it. Feel good sliding against that little clit hm?"

Price's specialty is eating you out. He locks his hands in place over your hips to keep your hips from bucking up as he tongue fucks your clit. He looks up at you with his soft eyes and his beard tickles the soft skin of your inner thighs so nicely that you can't help but squirm. Every chance he gets his mouth is on your pussy clothed or not. You'll be fresh out of the shower, just put on a t shirt and some panties and as you bend over to pick up your towel he's on his knees burying his face in your pussy from behind, gripping your thighs so you don't move. Your front falls onto the bed and he takes the opportunity to spread your legs more.

"C'mon darling open these pretty legs for me. Lemme lick this cute little pussy." He says with his face pressed into you, words muffled in your covered mound and thighs and you open your legs a little more for him. He licks you through your thin cotton panties not even bothering to move them out the way and he makes you cum so hard from his tongue licking and sucking over that perfect spot through your panties you need to change them again.

Simon loves to rub your clit with his fingers. He loves seeing how tiny your clit is compared to them. He thinks it's just so cute. On long road trips he's slipping a hand into your panties and rubbing your clit until you squirt in your pants for him. Or as you're watching TV together, and he sits you on his lap or between his thighs so he can play with your clit and tease your nipples. He loves eating you out too. You could be sitting at the dining room table on your laptop or something and he'd slide under the table to throw your legs over his shoulders. Then he's eating you out, pushing your shorts and panties to the side so he can see your little twitching clit he loves so much. He'd pinch it with his knuckles, moving it side to side which brings you over the edge cumming all over his hand.

"Fuck lovie you're fucking throbbing for me. Such a cute little pussy. That's right cum for me baby."

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap cod #soap cod x reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #captain price #captain john price

[halsteadlover]

Exam Buddy

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if I could please request a Jay Halstead x Detective Student Reader (she’s in her last year of her uni/established relationship) stressed out with her exams and Jay just comforts her kinda like a fluff to smut path? Thank you inadvance! :) loved your writing so I decided to request for the first time!

• Warnings: mention of nudity, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (always practice safe sex you guys), cursing, ugly ass writing (yeah that’s a warning too).

• Word count: 5182.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+. That’s honestly so bad I don’t know what to think 😭 I hope you’ll like this piece regardless, please let me know what do you think, like, comment and reblog if you want. Thank you so much for your constant support, I will never shut up about it but I’m so grateful for all of you.

“Baby I'm home!”.

Jay announced as he walked through the door of the apartment you two shared, frowning when he got no response. There was an almost deathly silence in the house and he even doubted you were home for a moment.

“Baby? Where are you?” Jay spoke again placing the bags containing dinner on the kitchen table and then heading to your bedroom. He opened the door and a smile was born on his lips when he saw you sitting on the bed, your back to him. He went out in the afternoon and found you in the same position as he left you in the evening.

Without seeing your face, he already knew you had a pen between your lips as you chewed it in frustration. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun and you were wearing a t-shirt, obviously Jay's.

Numerous papers and notes were scattered on the bed, a sign you were still rehearsing and studying for your next detective exam. Jay walked over to the bed, realizing you hadn't even realized he was there yet.

“Hey,” he said placing his hands on your eyes, roaring as you literally jumped in fright.

“Are you out of your mind?! You scared the shit out of me!” you exclaimed raising your voice, your hand resting on your chest as you waited for your heartbeat to return to normal. “Go away, don't touch me,” you pushed him away when he, while he was still laughing out loud, tried to hug you. “You're a piece of shit you know that? You can't pop on me like that fuck's sake!”.

“Sorry love, I didn't mean to scare you,” Jay tried to justify himself, smiling at you. You rolled your eyes and returned your gaze to the note sheet you were trying to memorize. He removed some papers to make space and sat in front of you, so he could have a good look at you. “Why aren’t you looking at me?” he chucked.

“I'm mad at you now.”

“Why’s that my sweet princess?”.

“Because you almost gave me a heart attack!” you exclaimed looking at him not amused at all.

Jay tried to hold back his laughter and pulled you by your hands, wrapping you in a hug. “In my defense, I called you several times and you didn't answer me,” he kissed your forehead as he stroked your back “Can I make it up to you with dinner? I brought some Mexican, your favorite.”

Your eyes lit up when you heard those last words and in that same instant your stomach rumbled. “Mh, maybe.”

Jay chuckled and squeezed you tighter. “Now woman, are you going to give me a kiss or not? I missed you so much today.”

You smiled and lifted your head, placing a hand on his cheek and drawing him to you in a kiss. He almost moaned into the kiss, having no idea how much he'd missed your lips until they were pressed against his.

His hand stroked the side of your face, and a sigh escaped your lips as he let his tongue slip in your mouth, deepening the kiss and completely taking your breath away.

“Come on love let's go eat, I can't waste time, I still have to study,” you murmured once you pulled away.

“Since when is kissing your boyfriend a waste of time?” he asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow.

You jostled him playfully. “Don't say that, you know exactly what I mean. I have the exam in three weeks and I'm literally not even halfway through the program, Jay I can't...”

“Hey, hey, hey, stop,” he soothed you placing his hands on your cheeks, “My love, everything will be fine, I know how you feel and I know you're under a lot of stress. How about we go eat now? Let's talk a bit and if you want I'll help you study later mmh?”.

You and Jay sat on the couch eating dinner and talked about how your days had gone. However, your mind was not at ease and you couldn’t stop thinking about the amount of pages you’d have to study and how little time you had. Anxiety was gripping your stomach and by then you couldn't concentrate anymore on nothing else but this damned exam.

Jay was trying to be as close to you as he could. His heart ached to see you so stressed out and worried, and God, he would’ve taken all the anxiety you felt not letting you worry one second of your life. He knew how you felt, he too had been there, but seeing you like this wasn't equally easy and not being able to do anything to make you feel more serene made him feel helpless like few other times in his life.

It felt like your life revolved around this damn exam. You couldn't think of anything else anymore. When you woke up in the morning the first thought was to go to study and when you went to sleep the last thought was how much you should’ve study the day after. You knew it wasn't healthy and you knew you were on the verge of loosing your mind.

It was just after midnight when Jay woke up.

He didn't realize he fell asleep and when he touched the side of the bed, he wasn't surprised to find out you weren't there. He sighed before sitting on the bed and standing up, walking towards the living room where – as he suspected – he found you.

You were sitting on the sofa, countless papers scattered around you as you stared at the notes resting on your legs. You went there to let Jay rest after he fell asleep while you studied. At that point, though, you couldn't even understand what you were reading anymore but you didn't want to give up, you couldn't.

Jay approached you from behind and was careful this time to make sure to let you know he was there. “Baby,” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders and starting to massage them. God, you were tighter than a violin string.

That pleasant touch made you close your eyes for a few seconds, throwing your head back and touching Jay's bare abdomen.

“What are you doing awake? Go to sleep honey, it's been a long day for you,” you muttered, eyes still closed as Jay's hands worked their magic on you. He looked down at you and a small smile was born on his lips when he saw the expression of contentment and relaxation on your face.

“I can't go back to sleep knowing you're here,” he replied and leaned over to give you a kiss on the lips “Why don't you come to bed with me? You need to sleep baby, you can't go on like this.”

“I know, but I can't,” you sighed and then opened your eyes, reality hitting you full in the face again.

“Of course you can baby. Do you really think it's good for you to stay up late? I know for a fact you can't even concentrate right now,” he spoke. He let go of your shoulders and walked around the couch to kneel right in front of you, “Your brain needs to rest now, it needs to assimilate and process the information absorbed so far, it can't do that if you keep bombarding yourself with new notions.”

“I know honey but I don't have time... I still have so many things to do,” you murmured, your voice breaking with tiredness and on the verge of crying. Jay lifted his hand and gently stroked your cheek, smiling when you leaned against his touch.

“I know how you feel but this is not good for you my love. If you don't understand what you're studying, if you don't focus on what you do instead of how to do it in the most appropriate way so you can remember it, believe me, the moment you’ll take the exam you won't remember anything because you would’ve bombarded your brain with so much information and haven’t even given yourself time to make it your own,” he stroked your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear that escaped the bun “Don't think about how many things you have to do, it's the most destructive thing you can do baby. You can’t do anything without the constant thought that you have to do this and that, or am I wrong?”.

You slightly shook your head. He was right about every single word he said.

“Better two things done right than ten things done wrong, always remember that.”

“What if I'm asked eight of the ten things I haven't done?”.

“Y/N you underestimate yourself and your abilities,” he spoke softly as you stared at him and listening carefully to what he was saying, “You are one of the most talented people I know, I know you’re strong and nothing will stop you. If anyone is able to pass this exam, it's you.”

“What if I don't make it?” you whispered, your eyes watering.

“Who gives a fuck,” he replied “If you don't make it – which I really doubt – you'll get another chance, and if you don't make it either then you'll get the next chance. I'll still be proud of you like I've never been of anyone else, because I see how much you're committed, how much you're giving your all. But don’t forget this, you mustn't lose yourself, you mustn't sacrifice your health, your well-being for a stupid exam, it isn’t worth it and it will never be, okay? Nothing is more important than you, you understand me?”.

You nodded, trying to pry every ounce of your being to not to cry. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him like you've never done before. “God Jay, I don't deserve you… I'm so lucky to have you.”

He wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you close to him and hugging you with all the love and affection he was capable of. His hands drew imaginary circles on your back as he stroked you gently and tenderly in an attempt to soothe you and make all the anxieties and fears that tormented you go away.

You left kisses on his shoulder and then on his cheek, hugging and squeezing him again as if your life depended on it.

“It's okay baby, it's okay, I’ll always be by your side no matter what,” he whispered and your heart made a small jump in your chest, starting to beat wildly. God, you loved that man, so damn much and so intensely you couldn't even describe it.

“I'm so sorry,” you muttered so softly you didn't even know if he heard you. But when he pulled away slightly from the hug and looked at you with confusion, you realized he had heard you instead. “Why, love?”

“I feel like I've been neglecting you these last few weeks because of this damn exam and I feel so guilty… You… You’re so nice and understanding to me baby and I don't deserve you…” You didn't finish the sentence because Jay covered your mouth with his hand.

“Quit this bullshit, okay?” You nodded your head and he removed his hand from your mouth, then placed it on your side. “Don't ever say those things again, do you hear me? I don't know what assholes you used to deal with in the past but it's not a burden to me. God baby, I would kill to make you feel better and get all this weight off your shoulders.”

You smiled. “I love you so much, you know that right?”.

He giggled and he gave you a kiss. “I know and I love you too very much my baby. So how about you come to bed with me and get some rest now?”.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers stroking his hair. You took few moments to admire him, observing every single detail of his face, something you felt you hadn't done for a long, long time.

Jay's hands stroked your lower back as he smiled tenderly at you. His eyes sparkled as they looked at you with so much love you felt overwhelmed.

“Y/N don't look at me like that,” he whispered.

“Like what?” you whispered back, while your gaze alternated between his eyes and his lips and occasionally even on his bare chest.

“With these doe eyes, you know what you do to me.”

“I'm not doing anything,” you licked your lips and that was the point where he lost his mind. He sighed deeply, trying to stop the blood flow to his dick.

“Oh baby you know damn well what you're doing,” he retorted, that panty-ripping grin on his lips. Without saying anything else, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep and passionate kiss that left you both breathless within moments.

A confused look came over your face as Jay let go of you, standing up. He went around the sofa and positioned himself behind you, then placing his hands on your shoulders again and starting to massage them carefully.

“Mmmh,” you let out a moan as your muscles melted under his expert and careful touch. That little moan went straight to Jay's dick, he tried to keep his composure and not act like a horny twelve year old but fuck, you were so hard to resist.

“Oh baby, this feels so good,” you moaned as his fingers continued to work their magic on your muscles.

“Y/N. Stop it,” he warned you, not thinking he could keep his cool any longer and not literally fuck you right there and then.

“Doing what?” you asked innocently, smiling even though he couldn't see you.

“Moaning like that. You’re driving me crazy.” Before you could answer he leaned close to you, leaving a small kiss on the bare skin of your neck. That simple gesture was enough to send shivers down your spine and make you forget everything.

“How about we study for a little bit honey?” he whispered and another moan escaped your lips as Jay began to leave small and languid kisses down your jaw, your neck where he lingered and began his intense torture. His lips sucked your skin, his teeth nibbled at it, his tongue licked it making you completely lose your mind. “Come on baby.”

“I… I can’t…” you stuttered, not able to function properly.

“Why not? Wasn't that what you wanted?”.

“God Jay… You drive me crazy…”

“And you know how crazy it drives me to see you in just my shirt? It's been so long since I touched you.” Jay's hands slid from your shoulders onto your chest, then onto your abdomen, with an unbearable slowness you couldn't even keep yourself still.

“Can I?” he asked in a whisper and the speed with which you answered was embarrassing. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

He chuckled and as his lips started nibbling your ear, his hands slipped under your/his shirt, reaching up to cup your breasts. He started massaging it, pinching your hard nipples with his fingers. “Goddamn baby, I love your breast so damn much... So fucking perfect.”

“Jay please…”

He took off your shirt, thus leaving you with only your panties in front of his lustful gaze. He walked in front of you again and didn't even try to disguise the audacity with which his eyes devoured your body. From your shoulders, to your breasts, going down your sides, your pussy - still for a little while - covered, up to your sinuous legs.

On the other hand, you didn't spare yourself either. Jay was there in front of you and he looked like a fucking Greek god. His muscular arms, his chest and abdomen sculpted as if by a sculptor with a hammer and picket, his V-line that disappeared into the gray suit which did nothing but highlight his throbbing erection. Everything about him drove you crazy and the more you looked at him the more you couldn't wait to have him. God you were so lucky.

Being with him was better than winning the lottery.

“Come here,” you said, when you finally brought your eyes back to him. However, though, you couldn't help alternating them between his face and his erect dick that you so ardently wanted inside you.

“Impatient baby?” he smirked, approaching you. He leaned towards you, placing one hand on the arm of the sofa and another on the backrest, effectively trapping you in his arms. You were intoxicated, mesmerized by his scent, his body, by him.

You placed your hands on his chest, feeling how his skin was on fire. He cocked his head to the side, looking at you with such intensity you almost felt like dying. But the way he licked his lips, like he was the predator ready to devour his prey, God, that completely took the breath away from your lungs.

You leaned in to kiss him but when he pulled back a bewildered expression appeared on your face.

“You don’t even want to kiss me?“ you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh believe me baby, kissing you doesn't even come close to the things I want to do to you. I want fuck every single thing you studied out of your brain,” he replied, making you wetter than you already were. By then you were a complete mess and your pussy was throbbing with the desire to feel his fingers, his tongue, his dick inside you. “But I thought about what I said earlier.”

“Jay please touch me, I can't take it anymore,” you blurted out, not caring in the slightest how pathetic you sounded.

He chuckled, further building the frustration and anger inside you. He kissed you but as you tried to deepen the kiss he pulled back, making you huff with impatience. “I'm hating you so much right now. Stop teasing me like that.”

“Oh my little princess is so impatient, don't worry love I'm not going to leave you like this, fuck, god knows how much I can't wait to have my dick inside you, but I've been thinking about something.”

You rolled your eyes, frustrated and eager. “What?”.

“I think you should continue studying.”

“Wait, what? Are you serious? I'm half naked in front of you and all you have to say is 'you should continue studying'?”.

“Exactly,” he smiled at you, taking the notebook you were studying from and placing it next to you “I'll help you repeat and maybe give you an incentive.”

“Incentive?”.

Jay reached down and placed his hands on your breasts, massaging them vigorously before wrapping his lips around your right tit, sucking, licking and biting your nipple.

You moaned, arching your back to meet his movements. Your hand rested on the back of his neck, as you stroked his hair. A groan escaped your lips when he pulled away from your breasts but your body vibrated with anticipation when his hands descended along your hips, then taking off your panties and throwing them in an indefinite point of the room.

At that moment you were naked, completely at his mercy and you couldn't wait to be used as he pleased.

Your breath died in your throat when Jay, without ever breaking eye contact, spread your legs wide enough to have a perfect view of your wet pussy after settling between them.

“Now you're going to be a good girl and study like you wanted to do and I'll be here to listen to you okay?” he spoke while his hands caressed your thighs as a sign of provocation “In the meantime I will entertain myself by licking this gorgeous pussy of yours.”

“Jay c'mon please. You know very well that… Oh fuck…” you finished the sentence with a loud moan when Jay stuck out his tongue and gave a long, slow lick of your folds.

Just licking you after what he felt like forever was enough to make him moan. The expression of pure ecstasy on your face, God, that vision alone was almost enough to make him come in his pants before you even touched him.

“Shit baby I missed this pussy so damn much,” he murmured in ecstasy, as if he'd just stepped through the gates of heaven, his eyes locked on you as you squirmed under his touch. His thumb drew imaginary circles on your clit, making you moan uncontrollably as pleasure coursed through your veins. “C’mon. Study now.”

“Jay… I… Oh yeah fuck just keep going…” you moaned, your hands resting all over the couch in an attempt to give you some support. Jay, however, suddenly stopped and an unsatisfied groan escaped your lips. “What did I just tell you?”.

“Baby please it's not fair… I can't…” you whimpered like a little girl whose sweets had just been stolen. He nodded at the notebook next to you and, letting out a long series of profanities that made him chuckle, you took it, opening it to any page.

“Now read, I want to hear you talk.”

You did as he said, wanting nothing more than to have an orgasm, and you started reading even if your mind didn't have the slightest idea of what you were saying, too focused on his tongue which then started licking your pussy again.

Jay pressed his nose against your pussy, inhaling your smell, that smell he missed so much, burying his mouth in your folds, making you a mess of sighs, moans and groans, making a mess on his mouth, dripping with your wetness.

Jay never took his eyes off you for a second, licking, sucking on your clit and all your fluids. His tongue alternated slow movements with faster ones, making you lose you mind.

“Keep going. If you stop, I'll stop too,” he spoke but you seemed to be on another planet. He grabbed your thighs, wrapping them around his neck as you spontaneously squeezed him between them. God, he couldn't have been in a better place, he could’ve choked to death like this and still be the happiest man on earth.

You tried to read, you really tried, but it was impossible. Your vision was clouded with pleasure, you couldn't utter a single word without a long series of moans escaping your lips. At that point you were sure that everyone heard you, but you didn't care, you were only focused on Jay, his tongue and the finger he was fucking you with.

“Oh yeah baby you make me feel so fucking good..." you sighed, now out of breath.

“Keep going darling, you're being such a good girl,” he murmured as he ate you as if he was a hungry man who hadn't eaten anything for days. He replaced the finger inside of you with his tongue, fucking you with it. As his tongue went in and out of you, his thumb continued to massage your clit, making you completely lose all ability to think.

You threw your head back, arching your back as you began to feel the orgasm building inside you, your notes now completely forgotten. Your body seemed to go into spasms and you didn't know how much longer you would be able to resist.

“Jay…” you moaned his name and it was so fucking sexy that Jay wanted to record it and put it as his cell phone ringtone. He knew you were close, after a long time together he had gotten to know your body and knew when you were about to come. Your legs were shaking, your breathing was heavy as if you were running, your movements against his face were impetuous, messy. He didn't stop. He started to fucking you with two of his fingers, and as he sucked your clit you finally exploded into an orgasm so intense you thought you were dying.

You didn't know if you could die from an orgasm, have a heart attack because of pleasure, but that's exactly what you felt in that moment and, fuck, it was so beautiful. You felt your vision blur, your body fluctuated as if you were in space and for an instant you lost the space-time conception.

You remained for a few moments with your eyes closed, trying to recover and come to your senses.

Jay was taken aback when after a minute you pulled him to you, kissing him like your life depended on it. His lips and beard were still wet with your fluids and you could feel your taste in his mouth while you deep kissed him.

Your hands pulled down his pants along with his boxers and he kicked them off, standing naked in front of you in all his glory. God you wanted nothing more than to feel it inside you.

“Baby… Oh, holy shit,” he hissed as you wrapped your hand around his dick and started stroking it. “Fuck yes,” his hips began to move in sync with the movement of your hands and his arms struggled to hold him up as the pleasure flowed freely through his veins.

“I need to be inside of you baby, I can't take it anymore,” he groaned, as he tried to leverage all of his strength to try not to come after even a minute.

He settled between your legs, grabbing one and placing it on his shoulder and with almost excruciating slowness he penetrated you, slipping inside you and finally filling that void you felt.

A guttural moan escaped his mouth and he didn't know how he managed not to come instantly. Jay remained in that position, still, trying to enjoy every single moment, feeling your pussy clench, soaking wet, around his needy dick. You started to get impatient, feeling the need to feel him moving inside you growing more and more. “Baby please, fuck me… I need it so bad,” you started moving underneath him, slightly moving your hips to seek some relief, to hit that magical spot inside you and Jay almost had a heart attack, already on the verge of losing control.

“Jesus Christ… Fuck Y/N…” he cursed “It feels so good to be buried inside you… You make me lose my goddamn mind…”

Finally, he began to move his hips, with slow, decisive, calculated movements and the moans you began to make were so hot they could compete with a porn film actress. His dick masterfully fucked you, tortured you and with every single damn thrust he left you wanting, craving for more.

“Jay please… Faster…” you cried out, your hands on his chest. One arm was around your leg while the other rested next to your head on the back of the sofa. Your eyes were fixed on each other, the green of his irises mingling with yours. You never took your eyes off the other even as his dick came out and disappeared inside you with more vigor, more strength and decision this time.

It was a higher level of intimacy, you seemed to be a whole and not only from a physical point of view because it was not only your bodies that made love but also your souls.

“Oh yes baby… Just like that fuck…” you moaned loudly, completely lost in the pleasure Jay was giving you. Your fingers pressed more firmly against his skin, causing him scratches that you didn't even realize at first.

“Baby I won’t last any longer if you keep clenching around me like that,” he breathed out, his eyes alternating between yours and your parted lips. “Please kiss me.”

You lifted yourself slightly and without having him to tell you twice, you fulfilled his wish. It was a messy, wet kiss, both totally lost in each other as he continued to fuck you. You couldn't kiss each other without stopping and moaning into each other's lips, as the sound of your skins filled the room.

“My god… Ah yeah… I love you so fucking much Jay…” you whispered as your faces were still so close, your mouths touching as you swallowed each other's breath and moans.

Jay didn't expect to feel what he felt with that simple statement. It wasn't the words, it certainly wasn't the first time you said you loved him, but it was the way you said it, so vulnerable, in the throes of uncontrollable pleasure while his dick continued to mercilessly fuck you, so sensual but at the same time whispered so softly it made his heart melt.

“Y/N…” he moaned your name like a little prayer “What the hell are you doing to me baby, I love you so much too… Ah… So fucking perfect, shit.”

Jay felt he was close and by the way you clenched around his dick he knew you were too. His movements began to be faster, more disorderly.

“Yes baby you want to come for me mmh? Do you want to fill my pussy with your cum?” you sensually beat your lashes driving him further crazy, while your fingers touched and stimulated your clit.

“Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I'm coming... Holy shit!” he gasped and with one last thrust he let himself go into an overwhelming orgasm, releasing every single drop of his cum inside you. You came almost immediately too, rocked with the waves of pleasure that continued to course through your body and make you toes curl.

Jay collapsed onto the couch next to you but before you knew it he was pulling you onto him, wrapping his arms around your body and hugging you tightly against him.

If the sex was mind blowing, the cuddles after sex were almost better. God only knew how much you both loved being embraced like this, one on top of the other, your naked and hot bodies in contact.

“Shit if this is how you study for an exam I won't even get up to go to the bathroom,” you murmured, your eyes closed from tiredness. Jay chuckled, his chest vibrating under your head.

“I'll be happy to help you baby, I won't back down you know,” he replied too with his eyes closed as his fingers caressed the bare skin of your back, up and down, from your shoulders to your lower back. “Babe?” he continued when he got no answer. He lifted his head slightly to be able to look at you and a smile crept onto his lips as he noticed you immediately fell asleep.

“My sweet baby,” he whispered, leaving a kiss on your forehead and stroking your now messy and disheveled hair, at the same time letting out a sigh of happiness and contentment. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me you know that? God, I will never stop saying how lucky I was to meet you and have you in my life,” he continued softly giving you another kiss on the forehead, cradling you in his arms, “I'm so proud of you, you can't imagine how much. Now rest okay? I will always be here by your side. Sweet dreams my love.”

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[miinatozakiii]

heyy loved the teacher fic!!! idk if u were open to writing a smut chapter but I’d love to read how sana’s a sweet kindergarten teacher by day, freak in the sheets by night ;) the kiss scene was so well written, so hot but so sweet!! Also loved the part about Sana admiring the tattoos

In any case, I’m excited to read more Sana fics from you, whatever the plot!

sweet nothings

wife!sana x fem!reader

summary: comfy, heated mornings are the best way to start the weekend.

wc: 1.9k

warnings: fluff ; smut ; cursing ; mentions of food

a/n: hi hi anons, thank you for your kind words! i was writing this little drabble for sana and it had smut and fluff, I figured it would fit both your requests. (also, to the second anon, I'm not too good with headcanons and whatnot so I hope this is alright with you.)

also, first time posting something more intimate, lmk how you guys like it.

-

sana is usually the first to wake up, it isn’t any different this morning.

she’s cuddled up against you, her arm draped across you and her hand on your waist. sana has one of your legs trapped between hers, as if you were one giant teddy bear, and your other free leg is sprawled out on the queen-sized bed. your hand rests on her forearm as you sleep, and sana has her head on your other arm near your shoulder while your hand rests on her own shoulder.

sana takes in the faint scent of vanilla and jasmine as she lazily breathes against your chest, it’s a refreshing smell and it really suits you, she thinks.

she lazily pulls herself closer to your body, trying to steal the warmth that you radiate, because it's unusually cold for some strange reason, but she's too lazy to turn off the fan that is spinning above on the lowest setting, or pull the blanket that sits messily on the two of you to cover her fully.

a small mumble escapes your lovers' lips, more like a faint hum as she nuzzles her nose into the crook of your neck, which seems to make you shift in your slumber a bit. your hand that's on sana's shoulder pushes the woman closer to you, and your other hand moves to her cheek, rubbing softly instinctively.

sana smiles at the feeling, and she's slowly waking up while you seem to be falling into a deeper sleep.

you two lay there for a bit longer – it's a saturday morning after all.

sana decides that it's time to get up fifteen minutes later, or at least when she's a little more awake.

she moves away a bit and a groan escapes your lips, sana giggles softly. she makes her way over to your cheek, trailing kisses down to where your pulse point is, and down to your collarbone with the tattoo that's exposed from your oversized t-shirt sana had gifted you for your birthday a couple months ago.

you roll over and your eyes stay shut,

"sana..." you mutter, "five... minutes...?"

"baby, it's almost eleven."

"it's saturday..." you sigh, blindly reaching for her as she lifts herself off of you.

sana looks at you, and she swears she falls a little more in love.

your cheek is mushed into the pillow after you had rolled over, and she thinks you're so damn cute she's going to lose it if she can't make out with you soon.

sana decides to give you a peck on the forehead, your cheek, and your lips – only to pull the blanket away from you after.

"sana!" you gasp. your eyes are open now, and you're rubbing at them while groaning dramatically, sana laughs at you with your disheveled hair, eyes squinted, and the sight of you in only the t-shirt and panties because you were too lazy to fully change back last night.

you pout and she just laughs at you again, "come on baby we gotta get up."

"how are you not tired? you came like, five times, at least," you say with annoyance, though you're pretty proud at how nice and pleasing it was to have her lose herself to you the night prior.

sana hits you with a pillow, "and I still have more energy to get up lazy bum! come on, I'm hungry!" she whines. you scoff lightheartedly and throw the pillow at her face, using that as a distraction and quickly pinning her down on the bed,

it's a swift movement, a short moment, but sana already feels the familiar aching feeling between her legs.

"mmm, me too," you mumble, looking down at her trapped between your hands, and your right leg is in between her legs just barely making contact with her sweet spot. you bite your lower lip slightly, and sana already pulls you closer.

you both smile into the kiss, even laughing in between.

it isn't long before you trail your kisses down to her jawline, to the crook of her neck, making sure to nibble at the spot that always has her gasping. she's already panting and you lick and nip at her neck a bit more, just before pulling away quickly to slip her shirt off.

the shirt she had been wearing belonged to you, it was easy to slip off and you already had access to all of her after it was off. the marks that you had given to her were still present all over her, damn... you marked her good.

"i thought you would've at least put your panties back on," you laugh,

"oh shut up," she responds.

you laugh again before getting back to work.

your first thought is to immediately make your way to her tits, and so you do. your lips land on her left nipple, and a sharp moan is heard from sana as soon as you do so. your right-hand plays with her other tit, groping it, squeezing it – just the touch of your hands and fingers on her chest is enough for her to lose herself in the moment.

she's gasping, she's groaning, and it's the best fucking way to start a saturday morning.

you toy with the right tit again, and then it feels right for you to go at it with your tongue. sana is whimpering at the feeling, gripping at your already messy hair, making it even worse, but it's worth it because the feeling is just so damn amazing.

your lips and hands work at her chest for a while, but now you're craving something sweeter. and so, your tongue makes its way down sana's tummy slowly, swirling around her sensitive areas that make her twitch in surprise, sucking and nipping at them to make her call out your name out of breath.

sana's body is like a monument, like a piece of art, something that takes time to really savor fully. it's something you admire, love, cherish, and devote your all to.

you make your way down the beauty that you're so glad to call your lovely wife of two years, and the familiar sight of her center is right in front of you. you plant slow, sensual kisses on the inside of her thighs, her back arches a bit and you smile.

"baby, please." she whines, "need your mouth."

"mhm."

your tongue comes into contact with her clit, and her hand shoots back to your hair, pushing you deeper her head sinks into the pillows, eyes closing. she's losing herself to you and you're losing yourself as you go down on her, just as it has always been.

you've been sucking on her clit for a bit now, and your fingers have been assisting by plunging into her as you lash your tongue against her pussy.

"god, fuck- oh my god... baby i'm-" sana can barely make out a proper sentence, she's trying to encourage you and it's really fucking difficult while you're going at her like that.

if the neighbors didn't hear the two of you fucking for hours last night, they're definitely going to notice the way sana sounds when she completely comes undone.

her hips are grinding into your mouth, bucking towards you, and by the way her breathing gets heavier and the way she repetitively mutters your name, she's about to cum soon.

your fingertips tighten around her thighs, and you lash your tongue against her walls, and give her that last feeling on her clit that makes her moan so loudly you might actually get a complaint from your neighbors; i mean, it wouldn't be the first time.

sana's whole body jerks a bit, and she's trembling the same way she had last night when she had reached her high. she lets her body relax into the bed, breathing heavily again and closing her eyes as you taste the rest of what she had offered from her climax.

you pull away and wipe your lip with your thumb, looking at your wife with admiration and care as her heavy breaths return to her normal breathing pace. she's lying on the bed and motioning for you to make your way back to her. she kisses you messily, and she hums as she tastes herself off your lips. sana hums in satisfaction.

"oh now you're tired?" you tease, looking at the beautiful, disheveled sana before you. she nods with a stupidly cute smile, and you can't help but plant another kiss on her lips.

sana wraps her arms around your neck, lazily deepening the kiss as your tongues explore the familiar setting they're in. you pull away for a brief moment to mumble against her lips, "let's wash up?"

"one more kiss," she whispers,

"anything for you, lovely."

-

sana does some persuading (she kisses you on the lips once) and manages to convince you to carry her to the living room.

you set her down so she can lean against the counter, and the high(s) from last night and twenty minutes ago seem to take a toll on her as her legs tremble slightly. you snicker and she hits your shoulder playfully.

"you need crutches?" you joke, looking at her with hearts in your eyes.

"yeah, and i'll poke you with them if you keep it up."

"sorry, sorry love." you chuckle, and you make your way over to put a hand on her cheek, the other hand just above her waist. "anything my lovely wife would like for breakfast?"

"mmm i think it's a little too late for breakfast." sana giggles, staring at your lips, "but~ maybe waffles?"

"anything for you." you smile.

it doesn't take you long to whip up some waffle batter, your signature mochi flour waffles – one of sana's favorites. you make four waffles, two for each of you. sana makes some tea and cuts up some bananas, apples, and takes out some of the honey from the fridge.

you put two of the waffles on one of the two plates that sana holds, and the other two on the other.

"thank you chef." sana says before pecking you on the cheek.

"mmm I think the chef deserves another."

"maybe at the table." she says, and you pout before she rolls her eyes and gets on her tip toes to peck your forehead.

you two sit at the table in your shared apartment after sana finishes putting the fruit in a seperate bowl and adding honey to the waffles – extra honey on your waffles, just how you like it.

you hum as you sit down with sana, reaching for the utensils and handing her some of her own before she kisses your cheek again.

"I love you." she murmurs.

"i love you more." you respond.

"never." sana argues.

"you wish."

sana rolls her eyes again before you poke at the waffles on her plate, cutting a piece for and feeding it to her. she melts as she chews on the piece, you laugh at her and you feel so content, there's a warmth in your heart as you watch her.

you two eat together, a few words exchanged while you devour the breakfast made, and moments like these remind you why you keep breathing and living – it's all for her.

sana's face is so bare, and theres something about her cozy state that makes you fall in love with her all over again.

– there's a sudden knock at the door that breaks you out of your little daydreaming, sana turns to you with her left cheek a bit puffed out due to the food she's been chewing. you shrug and tell her to wait there, making your way over to the door.

there's a familiar face, the annoying old guy that lives next to you – he looks pissed.

"sana," you start, "it's the neighbors."

"not again."

#twice x reader #anon asks #anon #sana x reader #kpop x reader #twice sana #twice imagines #sana imagines #sana smut #twice smut #twice fluff

[jazeswhbhaven]

Hello, I was wondering if I could request a headcanon for the kings + lucifer and morax!

I was wondering how they'd react if MC suddenly got into an injury, which isn't a very serious one, it was just minor where they need to massage that part and let it rest, but MC was kind of stubborn and scared and was even like “Nahh.. I think I can heal on my own”, till they were eventually forced to give in after they started saying the possible effect or consequences if they don't let it get managed. (Idk if that made sense 😭)

Hi anon, this makes sense don't worry! (Thank you for waiting) Our bois that you mentioned would be so sweet (or not) depending on how stubborn MC is being and well it sounds like MC is being a bit stubborn here lol Morax: He's such a kind and quiet healer, so when MC is literally being difficult and reassuring him that they're fine? He's clocking that immediately with a firm tone. "No you're not okay, sit back down..." For once, MC is surprised and the pain in their injury further proves this devil right. Once they do sit, he heals them pretty much instantly, and he goes the extra mile to check their vitals and other things before letting them go. "I didn't mean to be so rude, but had this gone unchecked, I wouldn't forgive myself..."

Satan: He pretty much grabs MC by the waist takes them away to his room and forces them to rest. He isn't leaving or letting them leave until they're healed. He's not very good at wrapping injuries but he tries anyway and doesn't care if MC is chewing him out about how he isn't listening. He knows better. R e s t. Mammon: His master is injured?? How could he have let this happen? He's checking them over constantly, asks for Buer to come look you over too, and gets the best bandages and ointments he can find in order to make sure they're okay. He stays by their side the rest of the night rubbing them and asking if there's anything they need he can get it. And oh, even if it's not a leg injury, they aren't allowed to walk lol.

Beelzebub: He's concerned, but he chides MC for being so 'breakable' but that's what he likes about them. He even goes as far as to tease that they seem to be well put together when he's [redacted] their [redacted]. In the end, though, it's really Bael who ends up taking care of MC as Beel watches carefully. Also, for once, he doesn't leave MC's side until they're asleep.

Leviathan: "So stupid, why'd you go and get yourself hurt? Useless..." He'd grumble, all while bandaging up MC himself because he's had to do this for himself for his own injuries sometimes before he had help from his nobles. He looks bothered and he is bothered because MC got hurt in the first place and he thinks it's going to get in his way or slow him down. But even if he is annoyed, MC can tell that he's genuinely worried by the way he has them stay in his bed for the rest of the day and dares them to move or 'else'.

Lucifer: All of his healers are wondering what's needed for MC, and Lucifer simply states he's got it. This is nothing that he can't handle. And he's right, the injury is minor and he's quietly bandaging up MC or massaging them, etc. The silence is soothing and it seems he's humming quietly while working his magic. Such a mysterious fallen angel and yet...caring all the same.

#whb #jwhbasks❓ #whb beelzebub #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb kings👑 #whb lucifer #whb morax #heee i still want all 3 healers to tend to me at one time

[snowsinterlude]

This has been on my mind since like yesterday but mdnsksnsb

Imagine that incel!Coryo hhas been incredibly...off for a while now. You're used and can handle him being pouty, whiny or hissy, even calling you a slut in that whiny voice of his. Just wrangle him down to your tit and let him suck until he calm down but lately he's been particularly vicious and it's getting on your nerves. There's much less of that whine or waver in his voice, instead there's more of a slow and condesxending cadence to it, Coryo calling you a whore or a slut or fucktoy feels more...raw and intentional, like he wants to be vicious and wants it to ache (think like end of the movie Coryo)

You don't like it, I mean where's your annoying but otherwise sweet and subby boyfriend you came to love?? Where is that whiny boy who'd pout when you didn't pull down the neckline of your shirt fast enough so he can suckle on you?

So imagine decoding that enough is enough and you put that boy in a mean amazon position with him kicking his legs out and screaming from overstimulation as you go to town on him for all the nasty things he said :(*

omg that's so HOT. THANK YOU ANON (the amazon pose is my favorite honestly need to write more of coryo in it) i hope you like it babe!! sorry if there's something wrong here ok??? xoxoo

c.w: incel sub coryo, dom reader, misoginy, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, degrading, overstimulation, slapping, explicit sexual content, slight choking, mommy kink, amazon pose (where the woman fucks the man while on top- his legs spread to her)

your boyfriend has been terribly odd these days. rude, even. your sweet, stupid misogynistic boyfriend was being worse than before and you didn't know why but he was terrible, more misogynistic than the usual, not even letting you ride him because that would means you're on top.

you didn't mind it, sometimes it's okay to be a pillow princess, and it isn't a problem since he fucks good too, the problem was the things he spoke during it.

like now.

"c-coryo!" you moaned, squirming as he fucked your cunt, pounding into you with a unnecessary strenght, his dick marking a tummy bulge inside you, his hand slapping your face or your butt from time to time. "t-too deep! calm down!" you pleaded.

you didn't want to cum just now, but god, he already made you cum before with his fingers, and that was something you noticed too, he didn’t go down on you for a month now, and that was normally his favorite part on sex aside from the overstimulation you put him on.

"shut up," he growled, pinching your nipple and making you jolt from the way his cock was deep inside you, grinding on your clit, it was torturing. "i know you like it like that, slut."

it has been days since he's calling you like that, fleshlight, slut, whore, cockwarming bitch, fucktoy, god, what is wrong with him?

you frowned at the way he slapped your butt, a stinging pain that would probably make a red mark that wouldn't leave for a while.

you were almost cumming, but he did it first, and after pinching your clit once more, he pulled out of you, not letting you cum, not allowing you to.

"coryo," you called, being met by his back while he adjusted his clothes. "i didn't cum."

"and do i care?" he scoffed, leaving the room.

maybe it was the power going to his brain, but your sweet boyfriend seemed to be getting a little bratty- you didn't like it.

❄️.

it has been days since that episode. your boyfriend seemed to be ignoring you unless he wanted to get his dick wet, he didn’t even talked to you and even your friends thought it was strange- god, even his friends thought it was odd.

enough is enough and everything has a limit, your limit with him was over.

fine, you accepted his change of attitude since he was so close to become president- it was a big change, it was probably stressful and you allowed him to be like that. now, it was just terribly boring and irritating to have him like that.

cursing you, calling you names, slapping you during sex, it was not like him. and going through his phone, you found out why.

his history search is full of that shit- "manhandling a bitch", "never let a woman be on top!", "how to take control during sex", and things like that, all of them found in a incel blog.

now, with him under you, his legs up and his arms tied together for him not to dare touch you, you felt like everything was coming to the right place again.

"let me out! fuck, y/n- stop being such a whore!" he said, and you answered him with a slap across his face, being gifted with his frowning face, the one you knew so well. he was ready to cry, and you adored seeing it.

"i should be the one to tell you that." you said, your hand meeting his neck and squeezing it kindly, a kindness he didn’t deserve but that you were willing to give him. "you've been there calling me a whore, walking past me like you're better than me- have you forgotten who's in charge, coryo?"

"let me out!" he demanded, ignoring your words.

"coriolanus." you called again, and he stopped kicking his legs, his teary eyes looking into yours as he had a pout on his lips. finally, he was quiet. "stop being such a whore and let mommy teach you again, okay?"

you palmed his cock on your left hand, and he jolted a bit under your touch, screaming in surprise when you slapped his balls.

"g-god, stop that! let me go!" he begged, involuntarialy grinding back to your hand.

"stop being a slut. i know you want that." you said, unbuckling his pants and smiling at his bulge, his dick throbbing painfully- he felt humiliated. "see? i told you."

he blushed in a irritating way, bucking his hips upwards. you didn't allow him to be on control.

when you finally let him inside you, he felt like in heaven. however, he cried out of humiliation, not liking the idea of being so easily fucked by you. so overpowered.

"p-please, stop that-" he begged. of course he wasn't telling the truth, god, he loved being inside you, and on that pose? it was the best thing he could ask for.

"no," you said "mommy gotta teach somethings to her boy, you understand don't you? he has been so mean lately, mommy's just being kind enough to teach him who's in control." you said, pounding on him. "you understand don't you?"

he nodded, obediently. too occupied with his own moans to use his own words. of course you wouldn't have it.

"use your words, coriolanus."

"y-yes. yes, mommy." he said, embarassed, ashamed, completely humiliated. worse than that was the fact that he came inside of you in a few pounds.

"oh" you voiced, chuckling at how nervous he was once he noticed how he came inside you. "sensitive, aren't we?"

"s-sorry, sorry, mommy. i-"

"-shh, it's fine, baby. you're just too sensitive. it's not your fault." you said, kissing his temple. "but it doesn't mean we're done by now, are we?"

he agreed with you. bucking his sensitive cock back inside you, you smiled at him, seeing his tears wetting his face, his eyes getting so very bright with the tears pooling on his face.

you kept on going, holding his legs as you fucked him- as you teached him how he should behave himself with you. you did such a great job, he was a mess! teary eyes, curled up feet, face contorting in pleasure, his dick going deep inside you as you dominated him. god, he was such a pretty mess. seeing how his face was coated up in tears, it didn't took much for your walls to squeeze itself on his dick, making him mewl and cum inside of you. you smiled, kissing his lips softly and cumming with him.

"be a good boy, okay? you don't want mommy to do that again, do you?" you took him out of you, letting him rest, his dick still throbbing.

"'i want to." he said, crying. "i'm sorry. can we do that again?"

"some other time, maybe." you answered, kissing his cheek and putting him on your lap.

sucking on your tit to calm down like he always did when he was too pouty or too unbearable, he finally learned his lesson- he should stop seeing this incel posts. he wouldn’t, though. not if you would keep fucking him so good.

#young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #young president snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosas smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #x reader #incel coriolanus #incel corio

[l0v3tast3]

midnight smut w toji after he comes home from work?🙈

i thank you, anon, from the bottom of my heart for requesting this. this was a very fun one to write (─‿‿─) i hope you like it!!! <3

✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, somnophilia (consensual), dom!toji, size difference, size kink, abuse of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), soft!toji but turns into mean!toji, overstimulation, degradation, choking, dacryphilia, spit kink, excessive dirty talk

✎ word count: 2.6k words (not proofread)

masterlist | requests

✧ ˖ ° toji knows his pretty little girlfriend doesn't like when he works late, but if he was being honest, he loves it. not the part where he has to work, but the part after that, when he comes home to you curled up on his side of the bed, face buried in his pillow while some netflix show plays quietly on your laptop.

✧ ˖ ° he pads silently past your sleeping form and into the shower. it's brief, as quick as he can be; he wants to feel the heat of your skin, not of the water that turns brackish red as it floods off of him. he barely bothers to dry himself off, just enough that you won't complain about the bed getting soaked (from water, at least), and disregards getting dressed completely. the clothes would have been off again soon anyways.

✧ ˖ ° with the laptop shut and placed on your nightstand, toji doesn't waste a second in getting his hands on you. he's gentle at first, like always, wanting you to know he would take care of you, even when he was ruining you. his hand traces the curves and accents of your face lightly, from your eyebrows to your cheekbones to your lips. the vanilla chapstick you always put on before bed smears with his thumb; he'd be kissing it off soon anyways.

✧ ˖ ° the blanket is edged off of you and toji slowly spreads your legs wide enough to wedge his broad figure in between. his calloused hands run up your smooth skin until they're at your hips, raising up toji's t-shirt that engulfs you so the lecherous grin can spread at the sight of your bare cunt.

✧ ˖ ° "such a sweet girl f'me," he mutters under his breath, rubbing soft circles into the tops of your thighs where his thumbs reached, his fingers engulfing toji's favorite part of you to stare at. it's a sight that he's certain he'll never grow bored of, seeing you bare and waiting for him, seeing how tiny and vulnerable you were under him. he ignores his cock that's been aching since before he even got home in favor of appreciating the moment.

✧ ˖ ° it's kept brief as toji brings his hands back down under your knees to lift your limp legs over his shoulders as he lays on his stomach. he's nearly drooling as his mouth hovers over your cunt. one hand spreads over your lower belly while the other locks over your plush thigh before he's licking a stripe over your slit. a low groan rolls out of his throat; you were already soaked. were you touching yourself before you fell asleep? that must be why your underwear is lying on the floor next to you.

✧ ˖ ° he's lapping at your cunt, replacing all your wetness with his spit. toji never cares about how messy he gets. he prefers it that way; it makes the noises of his cock drilling in and out of you louder. every drop that leaks from you is swallowed greedily, tongue prodding at your tiny hole, forcing itself in past your tight entrance until he retracts with a huff of a laugh. "always so fuckin' tight when ya fall asleep," he whispers, mostly to himself, his smile only dropping when he starts his onslaught of your clit.

✧ ˖ ° the hand on your thigh dips down so he can stuff his middle and ring fingers into you. toji's tongue moves in languid circles around the bundle of nerves while he drags the digits in and out, working you open so he doesn't hurt you too much.

✧ ˖ ° you're stirring by now, breaths coming out sharper and more ragged, hands searching for the disturbance of your rest. they find purchase in his damp hair and on his back as your eyes blink open hazily. "mmn, toji?" you rasp, swallowing hard and almost choking when he buries his fingers to his knuckles. his tongue swipes roughly over your clit just to feel your hips jerk under him before he turns his head to plant a wet kiss on your thigh.

✧ ˖ ° "'morning, pretty girl. how'd you sleep?" toji asks with a teasing lilt. you don't get the chance to answer; his mouth is latched back onto your cunt as soon as he's done speaking.

✧ ˖ ° you can barely process the heat already half-built in the pit of your stomach, already spreading to make your legs twitch and tremble, to make your nails dig into his skin and tug at his hair. the daze of sleep still fogs your brain, making you unable to form the words to tell toji you were already about to cum.

✧ ˖ ° he knows, of course. he'd felt your cunt around his fingers, his tongue, his cock too many times to not have the squeeze of your walls memorized. toji knows how to toy with your body as easily as he did his weapons. he knows that when he adds a third finger to the ones pumping more steadily now and sucks on your clit just a little harder you'll cum, so that's just what he does.

✧ ˖ ° the fire that had been built quicker than you could realize takes over your whole body; you can't think, can't breathe, paralyzed by the blinding pleasure toji so eagerly gives you. he's drinking every drop of cum you gush out, moaning into your pussy, mumbling mostly to himself how sweet you were, how hungry he'd been all day, how happy he was to finally be home. a gasped moan forces it's way out of you as soon as your lungs are able to move again. your grip tightens on him when he continues as you come down, but your whine seems to get through to him and he draws away, sucking his dripping-wet fingers clean as soon as he takes them out of you.

✧ ˖ ° toji's raining kisses on your thighs, the hand that was just keeping your arching back down rubbing across your stomach and between your breasts. it moves up to cup your face as his mouth trails after it, making you giggle softly when his lips tickle your jaw. he can see how heavy your eyelids are as the fog thickens in your head again, how you can barely keep your arms lifted to run your hands over his neck and through his hair.

✧ ˖ ° "hmm, did such a good job f'me, sweetheart. ya look tired now, princess, d'ya wanna go back to sleep?" he murmurs as he hovers over you, taking in your dreamy expression with hooded eyes. you nod absently with a hum as you nuzzle the side of your face into his hand; your limbs were just so heavy, so drained of any energy you may have had. if someone asked, toji would say that of course he feels bad about how he's about to twist the adorable look on you, but the sadistic smile that you're too semi-conscious to notice says otherwise. "go back to sleep, pretty girl, it's alright," he coos.

✧ ˖ ° your hands are nearly slipping away from him while he spits into his hand, rubbing it over his rock-hard dick along with your slick still covering him to his wrist and the pre-cum leaking out steadily. just the feeling of your tight entrance as he lines up his tip is a relief to him, melting whatever is left of the tension in his muscles. toji takes one last look at you dozing off, the hand still cupping your face moving down to wrap around your neck, fingers nearly touching without applying any pressure. then he shoves his cock halfway into you.

✧ ˖ ° the air is forced out of both toji's and your lungs, yours in a sharp gasp, his in a moan of pure bliss. the spasms of your walls as your dumbed-down brain tries to catch up make him go mad, sweating at the effort it took to not completely ram into you. he's panting over you, nose-to-nose as he grins and laughs breathily at the state you're in.

✧ ˖ ° you're held down from completely arching off of the bed by the hand still on your neck, mouth falling open in a silent cry as your eyes fly open. toji hadn't been kidding; you're always so tight when you fall asleep, cramped walls making his self-control break down by the millisecond and making you already feel stuffed full. the sting that always follows after he drives into you has tears pricking the corner of your eyes, and toji coos down at you again, his mocking tone much more blatant.

✧ ˖ ° "hah, pretty little baby still too tired to say anything? too dumb from half my dick? don't worry, princess, we'll make the rest of it fit. always find a way, don't we?" you're holding onto the arm connected to your throat and your legs wrap around his hips as tight as they can as a desperate way to ground yourself as your brain goes haywire. toji keeps pushing his hips forward, bullying his length further and further into you, talking you through it all. "almost there doll, doin' so good f' me- shit, so fuckin' tight. you love when i wake you up like this, don't ya? yeah ya do, you love being my little fucktoy. you love when i use you whenever i want, right? right, princess?"

✧ ˖ ° it's all so much, he overpowers every one of your senses, taking over your body by flooding it with sweet pain and hot pleasure. you can barely hear what he's saying over his dick emptying your head, much less able to respond to him. but you try, you try to make your head nod up and down, try to push out anything other than whimpers and muddled moans, but toji shoves the last couple of inches into you just as you're about to.

✧ ˖ ° a mix of a taunting laugh and drawn-out moan come from him as your chest presses up against his, teary eyes widening as you cry out, nails digging into whatever skin of his you can reach to leave welting lines that make toji so happy to see in the mirror. you're so completely full; every time toji bottoms out in you feels like the first time, but when he has you like this, your body still so sensitive from your rest and cumming just a couple of minutes ago, it's so much more.

✧ ˖ ° "ple-ease- ple- toji, ah! wai- nngh!" your vocal chords finally catch up as he starts grinding his hips down against yours in the way he knows drives you crazy. the mess of pleas you whine between gasps are just fuel for the sick smile to spread further across his face; this is exactly what he needed after a long, hard day at work.

✧ ˖ ° "awh, poor little girl, is it too much? mm, it is? that's too bad, sweetie. you're gonna take it anyways. i know you can, you are my good little whore, aren't you? yeah ya are." the tears that had been threatening to spill finally do as he starts slowly dragging his thick cock out until just his tip remains and pushing back in and he laughs again, still hovering face-to-face with you. toji's tongue laps up the salty water, drinking it gleefully. "don't cry, princess, you're takin' it so well, see? my big dick's fittin' allll the way in- fuck- pussy's grippin' me so hard, don't wanna let go of me, do ya? don't worry, gonna keep ya on my cock 'til morning."

✧ ˖ ° he's slowly picking up the speed of his thrusts, gradually enough that you don't even realize until your eyes are rolling up into your skull, body jolting as he keeps you in place with the hand still locked around your neck. you're clinging onto him for dear life as he's smacking his hips against yours, heavy balls slapping against your ass wetly. obscene sounds of your sexes meeting fill the room just as the smell of it has; it's so loud, you and toji are both so loud that you're sure the entire street can hear you. neither of you care (toji hopes they can all hear how good he's fucking you).

✧ ˖ ° when you're able to open your eyes again toji is still there above you, watching your every expression with a look that speaks for how much his ego is being fed. he's right there, practically nose-to-nose with you, and all you want to do is press your lips to his, swallow his gravelly groans and briefly stop the words flooding from his mouth that filled your head like cotton. except he won't let you move; tilting your head up only serves to make you cut off your own air against his palm as he leans his head back just out of reach.

✧ ˖ ° his hooded eyes and cocky grin shows you how much he loves how easily he can have control over you. toji loves feeling your dainty neck strain against his hand, loves watching how desperate you are to kiss him, loves how you jerk and writhe under him and hearing how you whine. instead of giving into you, his hand slides up to grip your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks just enough to open your mouth. your tongue hangs out as he lets his do the same, dripping trails of spit down for you to swallow between pants.

✧ ˖ ° "fuuuck, such a good slut, all f' me. you love being my slut, right princess? i know ya do, don't even hav'ta say it." toji gives a particularly harsh thrust, chuckling when you whimper as he stops to sit up. knees pushing under your back to lift your lower body, he takes your legs and presses them against your chest to fold you in half. as soon as he's got you how he wants you, his hips are snapping back against yours again and you wail.

✧ ˖ ° the fact of how sore you'll be come morning is disregarded quickly as you melt into a boneless puddle under him. you can't do anything except weakly claw at the sheets while he holds you down by your legs, toji's fat cock digging deep to hit every spot there was inside you. "already gonna cum again, huh? gettin' even fuckin' tighter around me, god! wanna cum, doll? c'mon, tell me. you can do it, sweetie, you were just bein' a good girl f' me- hah- where'd that go?"

✧ ˖ ° you're looking up at him, fighting to keep your eyes open and to try to form words, any words that could tell him what you wanted. it was just difficult with how unrelentingly he was filling you over and over and over again. you felt like toji was quicksand that you were sinking into, enveloping you completely and suffocating you in the best way possible.

✧ ˖ ° "haa- please-! pl- ah! i wan-" was all it took from you for him to bury himself completely in you and start grinding down again. a thumb comes down to rub hard against your clit and your body goes numb, stock-still save for your eyes rolling back. the words he's still saying are muddled, as if you're underwater.

✧ ˖ ° "...-gotta wake up, princess. there she is! fucked ya too good, hah! rude of ya to pass out on me like that, little girl. i still haven't cum yet."

#jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x female reader #reader insert #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #cw somno #— lilly writes! ♡