#been replaying this game and i love it so fucking much. i had to make these

[coridallasmultipass]

Goddddd, Dorothy is waifu for laifu, I s2g. Can't wait to see what conditional saviour bullshit she pulls from this stunt.

#not starting the next chapter yet ive been playing too long already today #but damn i was so excited as soon as i saw the light beam like THATS MY WAIFU HELL YEAH #god i fucking love her so much this just overshadowed the current game event for me lmao #nikke #dorothy nikke #nikke goddess of victory #goddess of victory: nikke #goddess of victory nikke #nikke spoilers #i guess idk chapter 22 or 23 (idr) has been out for a while im just slow on playing the main story #i love my ice queen so much holy shit #i keep forgetting what her main outfit looks like bc i have the pink tea time skin equipped. theyre both so pretty ughhh #i want to use the main skin but im a ho for the pink skin cutscene and victory screen like ughhh the despair is so good #i need to replay over zone but ill cry and im not ready to cry about that again yet its too soon lol #i already played it like 4 times when the event was on #Cori.exe #Image.exe #brb tho making her my new phone bg lmao sorry v cyberpunk my waifu needs the spotlight rn #wish i had a higher quality screenshot i gotta go look for one

[hogwartsfirebolt]

the game’s the game

“What was going through your mind when you spotted the Snitch?”

Two camera shutters go off like lighting, but Draco doesn’t blink. It’s almost the end of the season, and he’s done a press conference every week. He’s used to them.

“Fucking finally,” he answers, and the journalists all laugh. They think he’s joking, and he can already imagine the articles they’ll publish tomorrow pronouncing him cheeky and funny, but he means it wholeheartedly. Six hours in the sky, drenched all the way through his pants in rainwater, and facing the very best player in the league? He had half a mind to jump off his broom if only to have the game end somehow.

“This is the second time you face PU and well, Harry Potter, this season,” says another reporter, a young, pretty woman with her hair pinned up and a reverent tone when she speaks Potter’s name. Like everyone. “Are you expecting to encounter him at this year’s Cup? And if so, how does that make you feel?”

Draco breathes out hard through his nose. Across the room from him, sitting at his own table against the wall opposite, Potter’s doing his own press conference. He’s wearing a hat backwards, the light blue of his team hoodie contrasting with his golden-warm skin tone. He has a hand to his chin, rubbing his short beard in thought at some question he’s being asked. Probably about just how sweet it had been to snatch that Snitch right from under Draco’s nose. He’s earnest and so gorgeous Draco can’t stand the sight of him.

“The game is the game,” Harry’s voice carries, clear and chesty, deeply masculine as he says his favorite little quote that means absolutely nothing and that fans have been yelling and tattooing on their bodies the whole season. “We don’t take any victory for granted. Coach has been running us to the ground, she won’t stop until we have that trophy in Puddlemere, and we’re doing our best to make her proud.”

“Oh, I’m certain we’ll face them at the Cup,” is what Draco answers at last. “Honestly? I think no other team comes even close. We’ll face them, and then we’ll bring the Cup home to Appleby. As Potter himself likes to say, the game is the game.”

All the cameras around him go off, the sound of Quick-Quills scrabbling and the reporters’ scandalized gasps at his use of Potter’s quote. He grins, puts his olive green Arrows cap on and stands to leave. He needs a fucking shower.

Later on, he’s sprawled on his hotel room couch, drying his hair with a towel and watching a replay of the game on the enormous television, making mental notes about his own flying, his mistakes, the times he dove too soon or hovered too low. When the screen follows the blue jersey with POTTER 7 emblazoned across the back, he looks closely, trying to spot mistakes but knowing he won’t find any. Potter’s probably the best flier of the century, and Draco loves Quidditch too much to lie to himself about that.

He’s admiring one of Potter’s physics-defying feints when there’s a knock on his door. Immediately, his heart takes up a gallop, and he has to press a hand to the center of his chest with a frown.

“Calm the fuck down, Malfoy,” he mutters. It’s a disproportionate reaction and he’s irritated with himself for it. It’s not as though it’s the first time. Or the tenth.

He pauses the game with a flick of his wand and makes his way to the door, through the archway that separates the TV room from the kitchenette. A quick look at the archway across the suite to make sure the bedroom is as he left it, and he’s at the door, taking a deep breath.

Potter’s grin is huge when Draco opens. He’s foregone all his team outwear, and is now in a familiar, worn leather jacket and a black sweater. His hair is wet, as though he rushed after his shower so he could get here quicker. Draco opens his mouth to say something, but before he figures out what, Harry pushes inside, turns around and presses him against the door, big hands gentle on Draco’s waist. Draco’s heart hasn’t gotten the “this isn’t the first or tenth time this happens,” memo, and is still running a marathon inside his chest, so he says nothing.

There’s a plastic bag in Potter’s hands. Dinner, probably, he usually brings dinner when they meet after a game. His wide smile reveals white teeth, a crooked canine that Draco knows is a baby tooth that never loosened. Round, stylish glasses cover the most intoxicating green eyes Draco has ever seen, and they’re shining with tonight’s victory. And Draco might be — definitely is — the world’s sorest loser, but he’s also the world’s biggest slut for Quidditch excellence, and he has it right here, holding him against his hotel room door.

“The game is the game?” Harry asks, amused, already leaning in, the hand on Draco’s waist moving to wrap the whole way around him and pull him close.

“Just some stupid phrase I’ve heard from a dickhead,” Draco answers, but the words hold the shape of a smile and are uttered right into a kiss there at the end.

It’s always a race at the start. They're both high from the game, still in that mindset, and it’s a competition to see who can undress quicker, who can make the other harder, who can earn the first moan and coax the first orgasm of the night. But after that first one, after Draco’s jaw aches dully and Potter is softening between his legs, everything slows down a little. Potter helps him up and they share the tacos Potter brought, watching the last minutes of the game they played earlier with Draco’s legs up on Potter’s lap, where he’s massaging his knees, his quads, making sure he’s not achy from kneeling for him.

“I really fucked that one up,” Potter comments. His tiny self on the screen just pulled out of an impossible dive at what looks like a 90 degree angle. He sounds earnest, which is the only reason Draco isn’t kicking him right in his beautiful face.

“I hate you so much. Only you would call that a fuck up.”

Potter hums, his massaging hands moving from Draco’s calf to his heel, his thumb pressing into his sole. On the screen, tiny Draco swerves a Bludger aimed to his head, and his teammate Owen is flying to him to make sure he’s alright.

“That guy is so into you,” Potter points out.

“I know. We fucked all through rookie year.”

Potter turns to look at him so fast it must hurt his neck. Draco raises an eyebrow, confused at the strong reaction.

“What?”

“I — I don’t know,” Potter says, suddenly sheepish. His hands haven’t stopped moving over Draco’s foot. Potter’s skin is dark, but Draco can still make out the blush spreading across his cheekbones. “Isn’t it weird? He’s a teammate.”

There’s something he’s not saying. It’s evident in the way he bites his bottom lip, in the way he obviously wants to look away but is too ridiculously brave to actually do it. Draco’s heart thumps inside his chest, so hard he’s sure it must be audible to Harry too.

They’ve never named this thing between them. The first time they did it, after the quarter finals one year before, with Potter’s ill advised kiss that ended with them fucking in the showers of the stadium after Potter had wiped the damn dust with Draco on the pitch, they agreed to keep it quiet, and that was the last they discussed of it. It’s going on fourteen months since then, and they’ve done it at least once a month, when the league brings them to nearby towns, and sometimes when it doesn’t and they take a quick midnight Portkey to each other to blow off some steam.

Draco had never in his life been as well-fucked as he’s been this past year, and he definitely doesn’t want to lose it. Potter’s always been honest and open with him, vocal in bed about how much he wants him, filthy in his occasional text messages when they’re apart, but he’s never given any indication that he wants anything other than exactly what they have.

“It’s not weird,” Draco says slowly, unsure of what to think of this exchange. “We stopped a while ago. I was clear that I didn’t want — that I’d rather we stayed friends and teammates, without any complications.”

“Right,” Potter says. He sounds relieved, and Draco feels like he’s three steps behind the conversation they’re having. He’s about to ask, but Potter’s fingers on his calf smooth over an old knot and he groans instead, letting his head fall back onto the couch cushion.

“That feels great,” he says, and Potter repeats the motion.

“Yeah. I think you pulled it when you made that X turn.”

The turn he made to try to beat him to the Snitch, he doesn’t say. How he had enough awareness to know Draco attempted it while diving for the Snitch himself is beyond comprehension, but Draco has long accepted that Potter is simply insane about the game. He notices everything, considers everything, takes every risk. If he weren’t a player himself, Draco knows he would be following Puddlemere and Harry wherever they played for the entire season, wearing a pale blue jersey with the number 7 on it.

“Probably,” Draco says, closing his eyes and groaning again when Harry keeps pressing the same point. After a moment, he feels something softer brushing his calf, and opens his eyes to find Harry bent over his leg, kissing a path up towards his knee. He can’t help the embarrassing little sound he makes, and Harry’s laugh is a puff against his skin as he keeps moving up, breath warm on the wet trail of his kisses up Draco’s thigh. In the background, the presenters are going crazy over a feint Harry pulled, the sound of the audience carrying all through the stadium and out of the TV speakers.

Harry has made his way high up and is kissing Draco’s birthmark, a brown, apple-sized beauty mark an inch below his groin when he lifts his head to ask, “Why didn’t you want to?”

Draco can’t believe he’s using his mouth to speak at that moment. He licks his lips, trying to make sense of the question.

“What? What are you even — ?” He tries to sit up a little, but Harry moves over him instead so they’re eye-level without Draco having to move at all.

“With Caddell. Why didn’t you want to keep seeing him?”

“Owen? Why the fuck are we talking about —,” Draco lets his head drop down onto the cushions again, a sigh punched out of him. Harry takes pity and leans forward to kiss him, lips soft over Draco’s, knowing exactly how to coax his kisses out of him the way he likes best.

“I just want to know,” Harry whispers against his lips. He’s breathless just from touching Draco, from rubbing his legs, from kissing him. Fuck, this is insane.

“I like him, but it wasn’t very exciting.” Draco says. He closes his eyes as Harry begins to kiss down his neck, and tries to really think about it, because he’s not even sure himself. “I wasn’t willing to risk our teamwork when what we had wasn’t even that … electric. I don’t know. This sounds insane.”

Harry shakes his head, his beard rubbing against Draco’s collarbone. “It doesn’t. I get it.” He bites on the delicate skin connecting neck and shoulder, licks a path down his chest. “I get electric.”

“Fuck yes you do,” Draco says, nonsensical, but he feels he can’t be blamed when Harry is brushing his lips over his nipples, broad hands moving around Draco’s body to secure a grip over his ass.

“Is this?” Harry asks, mouth nearing the V of Draco’s hips, the edge of the trail of hair leading to his crotch. “Electric?”

Draco swears, fingers running through Harry’s hair and finding a grip, hard. “If you don’t put your mouth on me right now I swear I — yes.”

He spreads his thighs to accommodate Harry between them, one hand gripping Harry’s hair and the other curled around the cushion over his head. It is electric, the way Harry knows exactly which buttons to push, sliding a finger inside him while keeping him on his tongue. He’s a prodigy in this too, the star player who knows every move in the playbook that is Draco’s body.

It feels like no time at all, no effort at all before Harry is pulling back, dragging Draco closer by the waist and working himself inside. The feel of it, the sound of them together, the look into Harry’s open gaze, his sweat dripping onto Draco’s chest and his hands underneath Draco’s back, holding him, pulling him onto him, have Draco nearing release almost too fast for his liking, but the night is young and it’s been so long that he lets himself go, a cord snapping in his core, eyes open as he watches Harry watch him come apart.

“Come on,” he says once he’s come down, lifting his hips, shifting his weight onto his shoulders. “Show me what you got, Potter.”

Harry groans and leans forward, kisses Draco’s jaw and his neck, and drives his hips faster. Draco wraps his arms around Harry’s back, moves with him as much as he can in the tight embrace, and remains close as Harry meets his own peak and tumbles down the edge.

They lie together for a couple minutes afterwards, panting into each other’s skins, basking in the afterglow.

“Some pro-athletes. We have the stamina of two eighteen year old virgins,” Draco mutters into Harry’s hair after a while, and feels Harry’s chest rumble with his laughter. The room is cast in the warm glow of the foot-lamp that stands beside the sofa they just fucked in, exactly like two eighteen year old virgins having the chance to touch for the first time in their lives.

Harry always goes boneless and slow after a good lay, so Draco eases him off his body with tenderness, a gentle hand to Harry’s chest, followed by a kiss.

“Let's go to bed, yeah?” He whispers.

Harry groans. “I don’t want to move.”

“That’s too bad, because I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed. Some idiot drove me to the ground on the pitch today.”

He stands up and shakes out his legs, testing the soreness of his muscles. There’ll be an ache tomorrow, but nothing he can’t handle.

Despite his complaint, Harry is already standing up too, coming up behind Draco, a hand finding its way to the flat of his belly, his forehead on Draco’s shoulder as though he can’t bear not to touch him for even a second.

“Bed it is,” he declares against the skin of Draco’s shoulder, sounding halfway asleep already. Draco huffs a laugh and pulls him towards the bedroom, pausing at the kitchenette to grab two glasses of water that he watches Harry drink in three gulps, a couple drops sliding down the sides of his mouth, into his beard and down his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“What?” He asks when he catches Draco watching him, and Draco shakes his head and pulls him to bed. He’s so handsome it’s genuinely upsetting sometimes. Draco thinks he’d throw a tantrum about it daily if it weren’t for the fact that he gets to touch him.

They try their best, but they don’t manage a second round before their eyes fall shut, tucked into each other like two hands cupped under a stream of water, tumbling into a satisfied, exhausted sleep.

Harry wakes him with a kiss before daybreak, the last of the night chilling the room and puckering Draco’s skin.

“Do you have to go already?” Draco asks, one eye still closed and a hand curled possessively around Harry’s bicep, not entirely on purpose.

Harry shakes his head, kisses him again with a gentleness that is meant to go nowhere but extend this kiss, warm and sweet.

“I thought we could talk.”

Draco is nodding before fully grasping the meaning, but even once he does he’s not tempted to back away. Must be the night, still cocooning them, must be Harry’s arms around him that are making him brave, but he’s not nervous anymore, not now that he’s remembered what they’re like, together.

“It is electric,” he says, suspecting that’s what Harry wants to talk about. “It’s always electric with you.”

The smile blooms slowly, lighting up Harry’s face from within, his beautiful eyes, unhidden this early in the morning, his glasses still on the bedside table. Harry sits up a little, clears his throat. It seems like he’s been gearing up for this, he’s squaring his shoulders the way he does before trying a dangerous feint, before performing a play that will have Draco biting dust. This insane, wonder of an athlete. Draco forces himself to shake the last of the sleep away, to focus on him, on what he wants to say.

“I know that … so many of us want you,” Harry starts. “On your team, on mine, the whole league, actually. But I —”

He looks like he’s stating an absolute truth, like he has irrefutable proof, and Draco is taken aback. He knows some of the guys find him attractive, but that’s not the same as being wanted. He shakes his head. “What? Where did you get that?”

“I’ve talked about it with the guys, but that’s not the point,” he adds hurriedly when he sees his eyes widen. Draco hasn’t said a word to anyone, not out of shame, but out of sureness that they were sneaking around, that they were making it a point to hide. Apparently, he was wrong. Harry continues, “What I want to say is … I know we’ve not agreed on anything, that you’re free to want others, be with whoever you want to be with. I thought that you knew where I stood, that if you weren’t saying anything it was because you didn’t want the same thing I did, but it’s been brought to my attention that if I’ve not made an honest offer, I can’t assume you’re saying no.”

Draco’s heart is hammering inside his chest, inside his throat. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but if he’s right, it seems Harry is saying …

“I don’t want this to be a once a month thing. I want to bring you home, I want you to meet my family, and I want the guys to know that I’m saying no to all the people they set me up with because I’m taken and completely uninterested in anyone else. Are you … is that something you want, too? I know you might have better offers, but I – ”

The covers crinkle under Draco’s knees as he sits up, throws a leg over Harry’s body so he can fully sit on his lap and brings him forward by the neck.

“You beautiful idiot. What could be a better offer? Why would I care about any other offers when I have the best one right here?”

They’re kissing, and Harry’s gasping, and Draco’s frenzied heart pounds against his sternum. He nods into the kiss, feels dizzy with how much he wants what’s being offered. Fuck. There’s nothing he wants more.

Harry pulls back a little, whispers: “Does this mean we’re — ?”

“Yes, fuck. It’s — The game’s the game.”

“What — That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Shut up. It’s your quote.”

Then they’re laughing into a new kiss, and it’s not the first, or even the tenth time they’re together like this, but Draco’s heart still goes crazy for this man, for his unlimited talent, his openness, his electric company. Quarter finals are coming up, then semis, then they might meet again on the pitch and Draco might lose and throw a strop and want to tear the hair out of his head over the beautiful Quidditch Harry plays, and then they’ll get to go home and celebrate a victory. No matter who takes the trophy. That’ll be the game.

Read On Ao3

#quidditch rivals but ohh they’re secret lovers bet NOBODY saw that coming #kinda unsure about the tone shift at the end but ITS LATE I’m sorry ok #I just wanted earnest Harry which is MY FAVORITW THING #drarry #drarry fic #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #my writing #mywriting

[l3viat8an]

Rooo!!! I have Levi brain rot rn, and I need to share Grand Admiral! Levi thoughts with u :/

As an important figure in the military, Levi has to go out sometimes to check up on the outskirts bases of the Devildom. Make sure that everything is working as they should.

This usually lasts for weeks, and today you had found out how long 2 weeks can feel when your loser gamer boyfriend is out on assignment.

Finding solace in his uncharacteristically empty room, you cuddle up in the bathtub bed, desperate to feel anything that reminded you of your beloved player 1. Using his favorite jacket, watching replays of his old streams, sleeping in his bed, that's slowly losing his scent and feel.

But one day, while curled up in his gaming chair, rewatching his old clips for the thousandth time. Levi comes home. Still in his uniform as he marched into his room, not expecting to find his PC on.

Once you realized he was there, you quickly jumped into his arms, peppering kisses all over him. When you pull away, you expect to see the usual sight; Leviathan a blushing mess, stammering about something you can't quite make out. But now, he wasn't blushing at all. He barely changed his stoic demeanor.

"L-levi...?"

You asked confused, removing yourself from his embrace to look at his attitude. Giving a hurt look as you basically pouted. Throwing a small tantrum that he didn't miss you at all

Unbeknownst to you, Levi was freaking out. After weeks out on field he just wanted to sleep and go back to his shut-in lifestyle. What he didn't know was that what he needed was to see his player 2 dressed in his jacket. Being an adorable tsundere as she pouted.

"On the bed, and strip. Leave the jacket on"

Levi commanded, looking serious as you stood there. Shocked at his words.

"E-excuse me?"

"Did I stutter? Strip, on the bed."

"W-wait–"

Shocked and confused, You stood their unsure of what to do. And why the hell that turned you on so much

It wasn't the first time Levi was in control, but he was usually so sweet and gentle. Not this... demanding. You're not sure if it's the uniform, the attitude, or the fact it was Levi being so assertive. But you followed without hesitation.

And you're so greatful that you did, because the two weeks waiting for him were quickly rewarded. Levi being as merciless with you as he took what he wanted. Leaving you a blushing mess, passed out in his bed, as for the first time in two weeks, you slept with him again on his bed.

The next day, he profusely apologized at how rough he was, while all you could think about was when could you bring that side of him out once more

(AHHH IM SORRY FOR GOING ON FOR SO LONG BUT I NEEDED TO SHARE IT SO BADLYYY 🙏 IDK IF THIS IS SMUT OR FLUFF BUT I JS LOVE HIM AHHHH)

Nsfw!

Looks like fluffy-smut to me- holy shi 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 ‘n idk what happened but my add-on is definitely smut helpjdksj

Levi didn’t actually expected you to obey his command so quickly. He watched as you stripped down, leaving the jacket on like he had ordered. Fuck you look so good It took his breath away and he has to shake his head a bit, collecting himself as you climbed into his bathtub bed.

He quickly joined you, climbing on top of you in the bathtub before pulling you closer and kissing you, moaning softy as he deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue to tangle with yours.

His hands didn’t stop either, roaming over your body, exploring every inch of it, as if trying to burn it into his memory again.

Honestly there was something about this side of Levi that you couldn't resist. It was as if you were being taken by a completely different person, one who was confident and assertive…the grand admiral....it’s really hot-

You moaned when his fingers finally found their way between your legs, pressing against your already dripping cunt. He thrust two fingers inside you, causing you to moan loudly.

"You- you look so beautiful like this." Levi breathed into your ear, his voice low and husky. "I've been waiting for weeks to feel you again…..and I can’t wait anymore.”

He lines his cock up with your ready pussy, waiting for you to nod before sliding in and letting out a little whine he just can’t stop from slipping out, “S-so, good, messed you so m-much..”

He wanted nothing more than to keep you close, to let you feel how much you meant to him, as he fucked you faster, harder-

It was as if he had been holding back for weeks, waiting for this moment to release all the passion that had built up inside him.

“G-gonna cum soon….need, need you to cum with me.” as he leans down to kiss you, one of his hands slides back down to you clit and his thumb rubs against it roughly. Making Levi moan against your lips as you tighten around him, soon as he feels you orgasm take over your body Levi cums. rutting his hips into yours, riding through your orgasms together.

Panting Levi hides his face in your neck for a moment and he can hear you let out a little giggle, before whispering "I've missed you too, Levi." and Levi laughs, pressing a few soft kisses along your neck~

The next morning you’ll wake up to your, sweet boyfriend acting like his usual self. Looking over your body and apologizing endlessly, he promises he’ll be more gentle next time!! Wait no- he didn’t mean it like that!!- he did-

#:3 anyways- #very normal about him #also late as always so excuse any typos 🚶🏼‍♀️ #obey me! #obey me smut #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me leviathan x reader #smut #x reader #levi x reader #leviathan x reader #levi <333 #leviathan smut #leviathan x you #mail! #roro writes

[prettiestlovergirl]

hiii!! i love how u write theo and i was wondering if u could do another oral fixation!reader x cold!theo nott (it doesn’t have to be smut ofc, pls do whatever makes u comfortable, even if that means you don’t write this at all!!)

have a great night!

🎀 anon (if that’s not already taken ofc!)

oh, my love, i am sososo happy you asked me for this! idk why i have so much fun with cold! theo but i DO and the fact that you also love him makes me giddy hehe.

this is basically like a continuation of the last one! just a different nickname. (🎀 anon is all yours, babe!) i'm too lazy to add it to everything, bambola means doll! hope this lived up to your expectations. enjoy, my lovely! 𓆩♡𓆪

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; oral fixation! reader; princess! reader; jealousy; light hairpulling; fingering; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it); sarcastic banter; ends with some fluff; italian! theodore nott

currently, slytherin house was throwing a massive party in the common room. you guys had won in your game against ravenclaw, so of course you were all celebrating with loud music and an abundance of alcohol.

theo was looking for you. the two of you hadn't gotten a moment alone since the library incident he couldn't stop replaying on a loop in his mind.

wanting you was a bad idea. you were from two different worlds, you were polar opposites, but fuck did he need to have you again more than air.

even in a room full of people, his eyes always found you first. unfortunately (for the other guy) you were in the middle of a dance with some guy from the year above you two.

your face was flushed from dancing, your eyes sparkling with joy and laughter as the guy spun you around. your hair was in a ponytail, and he had the sudden urge to wrap it around his fist and tug you to him.

all it would take is one little tug and you would be all his for the taking, the douchebag with his hands on you didn't stand a fucking chance against him.

theo remained cool and composed, but his eyes? his eyes gave everything away. they showed the jealousy sparking deep within him, one misplaced hand away from starting a fire.

you must have been able to feel the heat of his stare on your skin, because you turned your head around and were instantly met with theo's dark gaze.

your breath hitched and the previous smile on your face was wiped as theo approached, instantly wrapping his arms around you. he made a point to place his hand just above douchebags.

"bambola, you didn't tell me you made a new friend." theo mused, his cool and collected smile masking the jealousy, rage, and sudden desire to snap and beat the shit out of this guy for even looking at you, let alone touching you.

"hey, man, who the fuck are you?" douchebag scoffed, his arms still on you as bodies continued to sway and party around you. "someone who's going to kick your pathetic ass if you don't get out of here in the next five seconds."

douchebag looked like he wanted to argue, but the murderous glint in theo's eyes and the fact that he started lifting his fingers in a countdown finally scared him away.

"what the hell was that?!" you huffed, stepping away from his grasp and placing your hands on your hips. "i really like ethan!" you hissed, noticing the muscle tick in his jaw as you said his name.

"you can do better, bambola. he scared too easy, he's not worth your time." theo said coolly, slight smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes. "oh, because you're better? please-"

"you really think you would have enjoyed yourself with him, bella? you think he would have made your eyes roll the way i did? think his fingers would compare to mine? i can still hear your pretty little whimpers, darling."

a shiver ripped through your body at his words, lips parting in surprise at hearing the normally so calm and proper theodore nott speak such filthy words with ease.

"you've got five minutes to meet me by the stairs, bambola... or i've throw you over my shoulder and drag you up myself." he purred in your ear, his voice low and dark and raspy with desire.

of course, you followed theo out almost immediately. you would have been a fool not to follow him, especially with the way you couldn't help but replay the scene of you two in library every time you closed your eyes.

anticipation fluttered beneath your skin as you and theo walked up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. there was an aching pressure between your thighs as you walked, his hand on the small of your back burning so hot he was practically branding you.

you couldn't take your eyes off him the moment you stepped into the room. you hadn't uttered a word the whole way up, but you didn't have to: you both knew exactly what was going to happen tonight.

theo leaned back against the canopy of his bed, arms crossed as his eyes burned into you. "come here." he finally commanded; voice soft as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms.

you did as told, walking step by step until your bodies nearly collided. "fuck, bambola. you don't know what you do to me." he murmured before finally crashing his lips down onto yours in a rough, deliberate kiss.

his hand fisted your hair, holding you tightly as his teeth tugged at your bottom lip. he shifted a bit, sinking down onto his mattress and helping you straddle him with ease.

he pulled away after a moment, watching the way your chest heaved as you attempted to catch your breath before he left a trail of hot, fiery kisses down the side of your neck.

you could feel his cock digging into your skin through his boxers, drawing a soft whine out of you as you started to gently grind down against him.

he groaned against your neck, his hand sliding up your inner thigh until it reached your soaked panties. he pressed his palm firmly against your pussy, making you moan out in surprise and need.

"fuck, you're so wet." he groaned, dipping his hand into your panties and pushing two fingers inside your puffy walls. your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned, forehead leaning against his as you relished in the agonizingly delicious stretch.

"theo..." you gasped, mouth falling open as he buried his fingers to the hilt and immediately pressed his thumb against your swollen clit. "fuck, your roommates are gonna come up and see us." you whimpered, sweating beading on your forehead.

"no, they won't, bella." theo hummed, his voice maddeningly calm compared to your breathy whimpers. he brought his free hand up to your lips, pushing his thumb into your open mouth, effectively keeping you from asking more questions.

you rolled your hips down against him, desperate for more as he continued to slowly drag his thumb over your clit while his fingers rubbed against your walls. "need you to fuck me, please." you begged, coating his thumb in your saliva.

"ask me again." he demanded, voice still calm and collected as your tongue swirled around his thumb. "fuck me, theo. i need you to fuck me." you pleaded, opening your eyes to look right at him as he pulled his fingers out of you.

he flipped your positions, pushing you back against the mattress. his fingers made quick work of your clothes, stripping you completely bare for him. he ran his tongue over his lower lip, mouth going dry as he admired just how fucking gorgeous you were.

his gaze was almost predatory as he admired you before leaning down, kissing his way to your chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. he licked and tugged and teased while you squirmed and whimpered underneath him.

one hand gripped your hip tightly, it was definitely going to leave a fresh bruise on your skin but you didn't care. his other hand went down to quickly rid himself of his pants and boxers before lining himself up with you.

"look at me, bambola." he said roughly, waiting until your eyes were back on his. you nearly gasped when you saw him, the theodore nott in front of you was someone you could hardly recognize.

his usually perfect hair was tussled, his sweat making it stick to his forehead, and his eyes were pools of black and desire. "please." you begged, your voice hoarse with desire.

he kept direct eye contact with you as he finally pushed inside of you, inch by torturous fucking inch. it was sweaty and intimate and you'd never wanted this moment to end.

as he bottomed out, your mouth finally opened in a tortured moan. he lifted two fingers back into your mouth as he started to move slowly. you happily swirled your tongue around his fingers, thankful for the feeling as he started to pull back out.

he pulled out all the way until it was just the tip of his cock still inside before thrusting back inside of you. he thrusted deeper, faster, harder, and you wrapped your legs up around his waist to pull him closer.

after that, you could no longer form any thought that wasn't about how good his cock felt pounding into your desperate, soaked pussy. your tongue swirled around his fingers as you moaned and bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts.

tears streamed down your cheeks as he fucked into you, lips pressing kisses and bites all over your chest while your nails dug into his back. "look at you, bambola. already weeping from how good my cock is fucking your sweet little pussy."

your eyes rolled into the back of your head, the filthy words coming from him practically tipping you over the edge. "fuck, fuck, theo, 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you cried, toes curling as your orgasm crashed into you like a wave.

his controlled, deliberate thrusts quickly grew erratic. he let out a hiss as your nails scraped his skin, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he fucked into you. he pulled out a few moments later, coating your stomach in his cum.

you laid there while he got a rag to quickly clean you up, letting you stay collapsed and boneless against his sheets. theo being theo, he had to at least put your things in a pile before eventually laying beside you.

your eyes were closed, but you could feel his eyes staring at you intently. you finally opened one eye, staring at him as you yawned. "what?" you asked, biting your kiss-swollen lip.

"nothing, nothing it's just... i think this might be the longest i've ever heard you go without talking." he teased, a smirk on his face as his shoulders shook with laughter.

you wanted to be mad, you really did, but it was so impossibly hard to be mad when you heard him laugh. he was always so composed, so stoic. any time you could crack through his persona was a success in your eyes.

"mean!" you laughed, reaching up to smack his chest. he grabbed your arm before you could hit him and he tugged you in close. he pressed a soft, gentle kiss on the chunk of skin he'd bitten earlier before covering you with a sheet.

"you're mine, bambola, and now that i have you? i'm not letting you go any time soon."

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

#☆lola writes ! #☆ lola's requests ! #☆ my lovely 🎀 anon #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #mwah <3

[loveysloveclub]

invisible - trevor zegras

previous part

in which, trevor deals with the consequences of telling lola how he felt too late.

trevor zegras had never felt more invisible in his life than he did right now. summer was coming to an end soon, and lola hughes had barely paid him an ounce of attention all summer. she had been too busy with her new found friend, mark estapa.

even though the boy had come to the lake house with luke, he had spent the entire summer taking up lola’s time.

whether they were sneaking off to sit on the dock alone together or making a mess in the kitchen baking cookies that they would later hide from everyone.

and none of her brothers seemed to care about this new blossoming romance between lola and one of their friends.

trevor had no idea why it bothered him so much. and he had never realised that not having lola always around would be something that would keep him up at night.

and he hadn’t been the only person to realise. which is why hayley was currently scolding him as she packed all her stuff up one week before she was meant to leave.

“i can’t believe you.” she huffed as she zipped up her suitcase. “i don’t even know why you’re mad at me.” trevor rebutted, throwing his hands out. the girl in front of him scoffed and crossed her arms.

“really? you don’t know why i’m mad? you brought me on this trip just to string me along the whole summer.”

“what do you mean?” trevor exclaimed.

“please, trevor. i’m not dumb. i see the way you look at her. the same girl you told me was just a friend, a sister even. the same girl who you told me just liked to follow you around. you told me i had nothing to worry about.”

“who? lola?” trevor’s face dropped and his eyebrows creased in confusion. “who else?” hayley scoffed, picking her suitcase up so it would stand upright.

“i don’t know what you think you saw-“

“no, trevor! it’s obvious you’re in love with her and i stand no chance against her. everytime you mention the lake house, she’s all you talk about. god, i’m so stupid.” hayley scoffed, crossing her arms as she looked at him expectantly.

trevor stood their speechless. he was usually good at lying, but even he couldn’t muster up the lie to tell the girl in front of him that he wasn’t in love with the girl that had made him feel invisible all summer.

“see, you can’t even try and deny it! not to mention the fact that she clearly loves you back-“

“what?”

“god, even you can’t be that stupid trevor. that girl looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars.” hayley wrapped up her argument, turning around and beginning to drag her suitcase towards the door of the room they had been sharing all summer. “my ubers here, call me when you get your shit together.”

trevor couldn’t even muster up a goodbye as he stood deep in his thoughts. he replayed every single interaction between him and the hughes girl. cursing himself for missing the signs, each stuttered word and every blushed cheek.

the clearing of a throat snapped him out of his trance as he looked towards the door to see two of his best friends, alex and cole, standing there.

“how much of that did you hear?” he asked nervously. “enough to know that you are so fucked, my guy.” alex responded, a shit eating grin on his face before both boys turned and left him to his own thoughts once more.

nearing the end of each summer, the hughes brothers always threw an end of summer party. usually, lola was either banished to her bedroom or forced to go home early. but things were different this year, and she was allowed to participate.

quinn had given the order to everyone to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t get approached by any creepy men or get too drunk. cause everyone knew, the only person dealing with a drunk lola would be quinn.

but lola didn’t care as she spent the majority of the night clinging onto mark’s arm as they participated in drinking games or danced together or sat in a corner and laughed amongst themselves.

trevor doesn’t think he’s moved all night. he had turned down any invitation to play beer pong with his friends or dance with a hot girl as he watched lola from across the room.

“when my brother said keep an eye on lola, i don’t think he meant all night.” jack laughed as he approached the boy, stumbling over his feet due to his drunkenness. he wasn’t allowed to drink during the season, so he always made it his mission to be the drunkest in the room when he was allowed to drink.

trevor briefly took his eyes off lola to pour himself another shot and quickly down it. jacks drunken smile faded at the sight of his friend, who seemed to be getting drunk quicker than anybody in the room. “you good bro? i know you and hayley broke up-“

“it’s not that.” trevor was quick to interfere with the boys conspiring. jack opened his mouth to question the boy, but couldn’t get a word in before trevor was talking again. “why don’t you care that mark and lola are dating?”

“because she got quinn to have a go at me for meddling in her relationships. and she’s happy, not much to care about. plus, i think they’re just friends who like to flirt.” jack shrugged, pouring himself another drink.

the subtle comment on how she was happy with mark was like a punch to the gut. one that could apparently only be healed by two more shots of random hard liquor that was lying on the bench untouched. jack eyed trevor carefully before shrugging and patting his friend on the back, “i’d invite you to play beer pong but you’re just gonna say no and continue stalking my sister all night. don’t ruin tonight for her, z. cause at the rate she’s going, i don’t think quinn’s ever letting her drink again.”

trevor didn’t even watch jack go as his eyes locked on lola once more. her and mark were awfully close as she stood on her tippy toes to whisper something in his ear. mark laughed at whatever she had said before shaking his head.

trevor, tired of taking shots, turned his back against the happy couple to mix something up for himself. however, his drink was quickly forgotten when he turned back around and saw lola and mark making out.

he was lucky that his drink was in a plastic cup because he was sure it would have shattered if it were glass by the way he slammed it on the table. he knew jack had one simple request of him to not ruin his sisters night, but his drunken state made it impossible to resist the urge.

so, the hockey player sauntered across the room. upon reaching the two, he grabbed lola and dragged her outside.

outside was empty, but he couldn’t risk anyone hearing what he was about to say so he took her all the way down onto the lawn. lola tried everything to get the boy to stop, digging her heels into the ground or trying to yank her arm away, but it was no use.

“trevor!” she finally yelled, the loudness of her voice startling the boy as he dropped her arm and moved to stand in her way so she couldn’t turn and leave.

“dude, what the fuck are you doing?” she exclaimed. “dude? really?” he shot back.

lola was left speechless as she looked up at the angry boy. she had no idea why he was angry, but she didn’t allow herself to care as she scoffed and tried to move passed him. “i’m going back to mark.”

“i can’t let you do that.” he moved back in front of her, blocking her way inside.

“why not?” lola yelled at the boy, shoving him slightly to get him to move, but it was no use. “cause you can’t be with him.”

“you don’t get to decide that. you’re not my keeper and you’re sure as hell not my brother.” she was at a loss for words by the sheer audacity the boy held. he didn’t get to decide what she could and couldn’t do. “am i not allowed to be happy?”

“no, you’re not allowed to be happy. not with him.” trevor knew he wasn’t making any sense, he just hoped she would catch up to what he was trying to say. but by the way her cheeks flared with anger, he knew she wasn’t. “what’s wrong with mark?”

“he’s not me.”

silence consumed the two as lola looked up at the boy, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “no.” she shook her head.

“don’t be with him.”

“no, no, trevor you’re being mean.” lola shook her head, looking everywhere but trevor as tears clouded her vision. he moved forward to cup her face, but the girl pushed him off her. “you don’t get to do this. not now. not after i’ve spent my entire life loving you.”

“lola.” trevor began, but she shook her head to cut him off. “lola, please. please, look at me.” his hands found their way to cup her cheeks again, and he was prepared for her to shove him off her once more when her own hands travelled up to hold his wrists. but she didn’t, she kept her hands there as she looked up at him.

“i’m sorry i didn’t realise it before. but i know it now. i love you lola, i always have.”

lola couldn’t believe it. he was actually saying the words, putting out the feelings she has felt towards him since she was 15.

“you don’t mean that. you’re drunk, and you’ll wake up tomorrow and realise you’ve made the mistake of telling me you love me. and i don’t know why you’re tormenting me like this trevor, but i can’t keep doing this.”

trevor shook his head. he didn’t know what else he could say to make her believe that he was telling the truth. “please.” he whispered.

“i don’t believe you.” she said once more, finally pushing his hands away.

she turned to leave, and trevor realised his window was closing. grabbing her once more by the wrist, he spun her into his chest before smashing his lips onto hers.

lola stilled for a moment before melting into the kiss. she grabbed the back of his head, subconsciously fiddling with the end of his hair.

she didn’t even dwell on the fact that he might wake up tomorrow morning and pretend this never happened, that he might think of it all as a mistake. she had waited years for this moment, and she’d be damned if she was the one to stop it.

trevor finally broke away. lola waited a moment before opening her eyes, only to find trevor already looking at her. his thumbs wiped the tears from under her eyes, the touch soothing and sobering. “i promise i mean it. and i will spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

“you’re not gonna get sick of me? and dump me like hayley?”

“hayley dumped me.” trevor revealed, rolling his eyes playfully at the shocked expression that coated lola’s face. “she knew that she wasn’t the one i was in love with. and as for your question, i could never get sick of you.”

lola smiled shyly at the boy, nodding her head. “we should go back inside.”

“five more minutes.” trevor smiled childishly before lowering his lips back onto hers. smiling into the kiss, lola allowed herself to get lost in the world that was trevor zegras.

“what the fuck is going on here?” the sudden voice of quinn caused the two to snap apart, moving to stand away from each other. lola looked up at her eldest brother, who wasn’t even looking at her but rather glaring at trevor.

quinn moved in the boys direction, which caused lola to move in between the two. “move, lolly.”

“no.” she shot back. quinn tried to hide the surprise that coated his features. sure, she said no to luke and jack all the time, but never him. “quinn, please.”

the girl looked up at her older brother, who studied her face before nodding and turning back to the zegras boy.

“you hurt her, you insult her, you even forget to make her breakfast one morning, i will kill you.” trevor nodded his head nervously.

lola smiled up at her older brother, who rolled his eyes at her excitement, before wrapping his arms around his neck in a hug. quinn returned the hug, but his glare never left the zegras boy who stood there awkwardly.

“now, let’s go. you’ve got some explaining to do.” quinn told lolly, guiding her back inside.

lola looked over her shoulder, waving shyly at the boy who stood back as she was all but dragged back into the lake house.

#trevor zegras x hughes sister #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras #tz11 #anaheim ducks #mark estapa #luke hughes #hughes sister #quinn hughes #jack hughes

[thatsdemko]

the culer- j.bellingham

masterlist | pairing: Jude Bellingham x gavi!fem!reader. summary: with the pressure of the match at hand, Jude makes an error that’ll cost him. warnings: fluff + angst + the following events in this fic are completely fictional and are not based on real life events. a/n: I dislike Real Madrid but I love Jude because he played for Borussia Dortmund.. he’ll always have a place in my heart I fear

It’s not like the words “Pablo gavis sister” were plastered against your forehead, so how was he supposed to know? it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to him, but it certainly wasn’t best when he rounded the corner and hear your soft laugh ring his ears. it was even ten times worse when his breakfast threatened to come up seeing your brothers arm around your shoulders.

you’re squished in between culers, your brothers jersey clung tight against your chest that serves as a major distraction to him. yet, he can’t actually see you. glimpses of you from the tunnel replay in his mind, the ball against his feet should be in the back of the net right now, but he’s stalling.

if he scores, your brother and his team lose. why does it matter to him anyway? this should be an exciting moment here in Barcelona with the crowd booing his name and boosting his adrenaline, so why does he care so much about you?

you’d never had more than just sex. an occasional cuddle and maybe a late night movie cozied up in his bed, but that was it. so you’re unsure why he’s playing with the ball when he’s got a 90% chance of scoring.

“just shoot the damn ball, Jude.” you mutter to yourself. the quicker he gets this over, the sooner the dread and anxiety bubbling in your stomach will fizzle out, and the sooner this is over the better chances your brother or his teammate have in evening the score.

yet there he still stands, unable to decide to shoot or to pass and the crowd wasn’t having it. Jude was usually so quick with his mind, football came easy yet this shot was the hardest one. he knows if he shoots this into the back of the net all chances with you end tonight on this pitch. he knows if he passes, all chances of his team advancing into the next round, end here.

why did it have to be him to decide the fate?

as if on cue, pablo takes the stab. he pulls Jude from his mind games, and decides to end the misery for himself and the crowd. Jude didn’t have much of a reaction time, in fact, he didn’t even put up a fight as the ball was swept from his feet.

“what the fuck man?!” his teammates shout frustrated in his inability to play the damn game.

your nails dig into your palms, watching your brother and his teammate play keep away from the Real Madrid defenders before taking the shot on net and ending the tie once in for all.

Real Madrid lost and wouldn’t advance to the next round.

a smile couldn’t form to your lips. watching Jude’s head hang low, you feel guilty. knowing he’d been riding the highs of the past couple of wins, he should be proud of the fight the team put up today. but those three minutes of torture would haunt him for the rest of his career for every time he saw you.

you.

his head picks up, eyes scanning the mass of fans the sea of red and blue all mesh together. faces booing and others cheering become a blur, but he’s sure you’re out there celebrating. you always expressed how important family was to you, and he was sure your family couldn’t of been happier.

—

you shouldn’t be here. not this late. the match ended hours ago and Jude most likely wasn’t even home yet, but it didn’t stop you from pounding your knuckles against the wood door in hopes he was there. you’re the last person he probably ever wants to chat with, but you needed to check on him. you needed to make sure he wasn’t beating himself up.

you hear the lock click, the door slowly creeps open revealing his dark brown eyes scanning your body. you’d changed into sweatpants in a sweatshirt, a more casual fit than what you were used to wearing to see Jude.

“what are you doing here this late?” his posh accent floods your eardrums, your heart can’t help but thump faster as you move closer to the small crack of the door to find any signs of concern across his face.

“I came to see you.”

“I don’t want to see you.” his bitter words make your heart come to a screeching halt. it’s just the game, you tell yourself, he doesn’t mean these words he’s clearly just upset.

“you played well, ba—Jude. please don’t beat yourself up.”

the door opens up more, like he couldn’t resist. seeing your concern for him mixed his feelings about you. at first, he was done with you. said it was for the best to move on, but seeing you here? with your doe-like brown eyes staring into his, he couldn’t resist.

“I’m the laughingstock of the team now. all because I couldn’t shoot the damn ball.”

“why didn’t you?” the words come rolling off your tongue before you can even process. you’d been asking yourself the question ever since the game ended. why didn’t he just shoot the damn ball? what was stopping him? you couldn’t press the questions in your mind any further when you knew what was stopping him: you. its silly and cliche but it’s the truest that’s been gnawing at him. you were the reason he couldn’t bare to see his own rivals lose.

“I don’t want to discuss this.” his shoulders slumped. he hardly notices you’d pushed the door further and allowed yourself in. he knew your care taking tendencies couldn’t bare to see him this down.

“come on,” you guide him into his bedroom, the curtains are drawn and a Spanish soap-opera plays quietly in the corner of his room. you crawl into his bed and allow him to rest against your body. your nails rake across his skin, careful not to put too much pressure on the black forming bruises.

“you really shouldn’t be here.” he mumbles feeling his shoulders and body sink further into the depths of touch. he hates himself for this, he knows he shouldn’t be falling at the hands of his rivals sister, but yet he can’t stop himself.

“I know,” you say peppering kisses to his throbbing temple, like you knew there was too much pressure there, “I’ll deal with that tomorrow, right now I’m here to deal with you.”

“you’re the better gavi, did you know that?” Jude lifts his gaze to meet yours, your lips briefly touch enough to ghost his.

“I did know that actually.”

he may have lost the game, but one things for sure, he didn’t lose you.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #Jude Bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #football oneshot #football fics #football fanfic #football fic #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football fluff #real madrid #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham drabble #football drabble #gavi #pablo gavi #football one shot #football x oc #jude bellingham angst

[rggie]

< event m.list┆when they spoil you

characters: idia, leona, vil

details: gn!reader / sfw, established relationship

idia shroud has madol to spare.

seriously. he has loads lying in his bank account, untouched. all he uses it for is games, merchandise, figurines and a plethora of charities he repeatedly saw ads for and couldn’t click off. he’s subscribed to so many things over the years, half of the time he doesn’t even know what his phone is billing him for. not that it really matters. to say there was ample room for him to spend more would be an understatement, but he had nothing (correction, nobody) at all to spend it on.

at least, until he met you. 

he’s (regrettably) played enough dating sims and watched enough shoujo romances to know about the different love languages. personally, he adores words of affirmation, lapping up your praise like some sort of starved kitten. (his ego is skyrocketing and it’s all your fault) but gift giving? now that’s his guilty pleasure. it’s quick, easy and an often wordless exchange, which was good for him! the less verbal mush he has to say, the better.

it starts off simple, just idia logging on to do your dailies whenever you’re busy. then, he’s buying you the monthly battle pass. and then, it’s the overpriced skin for a character you didn’t even care much for in the first place. before you know it, you’re that couple, notorious on video games… you know, the annoying ones with matching avatars and bios, with all the unnecessary assets that were locked behind a paywall. oh, the irony of it all. he used to hate those types!

you logged him into you favourite shopping apps, so if there’s something on your wishlist that exceeds your budget on a shopping spree, he’ll take care of it before you get the chance. every time you joke about him being your sugar daddy, (which is not true. he doesn’t even buy you things that often!) he says he’ll block you on everything. he never goes through with it, though.

idia is too shy to admit it, but there’s a small part of him that wishes to gift give more, solely because of your reaction — he can’t help it, the surprised pikachu-like expression and the way you throw your arms around him when he surprises you with something you’ve been eyeing gives him a serotonin boost! he’ll be giddy, practically hyper for the rest of the day, as though he’s on a sugar-rush… his brain just goes into overdrive and all he can think about is how he wants to hit replay and have you do it again over and over and over. he’s so touch starved.

you’re his first everything, so who can blame him for treating you? he still thinks you’re leagues ahead of him. so he’s not doing it to be cocky or make you feel guilty, he does it because the three words he tries so hard to say refuse to fall from his lips. his throat dries and his hands get clammy and his brain fails to form coherent thoughts whenever he attempts to tell you in person — but if you look closer, you’d find that it’s already been conveyed through his gifts: a non-verbal ‘i care about you’, ‘i want you to be happy’ and of course, ‘i love you.’

leona kingscholar is no stranger to expensive gifts.

being a prince, he’s had suitors from far and wide travel to present him with lavish things — and yet, he can only say a select few had no ulterior motive. thus, receiving gifts is something he brushes off quite easily.

when you shower him with the very thing he avoids, he doesn’t know what to make of it. do you want something from him? is that why you’re dating him? the worst part is he doesn’t voice his concerns at all, feigning indifference until ruggie pokes his nose into his business. “leona, what have you ever gotten for them?”

nothing. he’s gotten you nothing. he takes, takes, takes, and you’ve asked for nothing in return. not once has asked you if you wanted anything, too caught up in his own negativity — fuck. he’s not too good at this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing. leona realises that you’re not giving gifts because you want something out of him, you’re doing it because you love him, and simply want to see him happy.

very abruptly, he’s asking you about things you’ve had your eye on. wristwatches that are just wayyy too expensive for a regular student, or newly-released branded shoes that you know you can’t afford till they go on sale. you never really know if leona’s listening to your absent-minded rambles, so you pay no mind to his sudden curiosity. he’s always said he likes the sound of your voice, so you keep on talking.

“anything you’ve got your eye on?” he’s lounging on your thighs, eyes closed as you lace your fingers through his hair. “other than you?”

he glares at you. you laugh before responding properly, and he listens attentively (he always has) because he’s irritatingly enamoured (he always will be)

leona can tell when you get excited, ears twitching with the intonations of your voice, “there were these headphones i liked, and oh! also these sliders (…)” your candid response is almost amusing. you’re oblivious, completely unbeknownst to the wishlist in leona’s head that seems to grow longer, and longer, and longer…

your birthday this year will be a big one.

vil schoenheit ‘unintentionally’ spoils you.

like leona, vil has been recipient of gifts since the start of his career. whether it’s brand deals or romantic advancements, it’s all the same to him. that doesn’t mean the notion isn’t sweet!! and if it’s you gifting him something, it’s all the more sweeter.

that said, he makes sure to remind you that he doesn’t require gifts. your relationship is bolstered by the genuine trust you have in each other, so he doesn’t need flowery grand gestures — not that he won’t accept them, because he will! — but he’d rather not have you splurge on him when you still have a future to focus on. being goal driven himself, he’d rather you not get carried away.

“just focus on yourself. be selfish.” he tells you, but he struggles to do that himself.

okay, he doesn’t necessarily give you gifts. he just so happens to have things lying around that he doesn’t need anymore. shoes from partnerships he didn’t like, jewellery that’ll suit you better, or clothes that are so not his style are all sent straight to you. he has a surplus of things he doesn’t use, so why not give it away to someone who’d make better use of it? it’s not intentional or anything.

“stay still.” he’s got you sitting in his vanity chair as he kneels on the ground, knuckles grazing your skin as he fastens the clasp of a silver bracelet on your wrist. “vil, when did you buy this?”

“i didn’t. it was free. magicam promo.” that’s what he claims, but you know better. of course you do, when you were the one sitting across from him one week ago as he mulled over purchasing the exact same thing.

so maybe he’s a liar. he does spoil you. he does it all the time. but his school performance hasn’t been hindered, and neither has yours, so… just let him carry on.

<-

#event・recently deleted 🗑 #they’re not sugar daddies #just rich kids (derogatory) #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #vil schoenheit x reader #twst hcs #twst fic #vil x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #🐾・/ rggie twst

[elliewill]

A FOOL'S GAME

summary - an angsty drabble of fem reader leaving an emotionally troubled ellie warnings - angsty arguing, strong language, mentions of infidelity, sad feelings word count - 1.4k credits: divider credit, gif credit a/n: written with "a pearl" by mitski in mind. def listen on replay while reading!

"If you told me that this would be the way we'd end up..." you started. But your breath caught itself on the painful lump in your throat. You began to laugh in disbelief, mostly to shake off the urge to cry. "I would have never believed you."

She couldn't help but avert her gaze. So much so, that you secretly wondered if she felt she'd turn to stone if she met your eyes. Maybe in some way, she would. She was embarrassed. Cheeks pink, ears red, jaw clenched with tension. She leaned against her desk, arms crossed, frozen almost. Eyes glued to the floor.

"And here we are. You don't want to touch me... You can't even fucking look at me."

Despite your words, Ellie remained unmoved. You began to wonder if her silence meant that she actually felt guilty, or whether it was just indignation. You knew she had a bad habit of never admitting when she was wrong.

"I never meant to hurt you," Ellie broke the silence, embarrassment in her voice, with her eyes now stuck on her busted sneakers. "I wasn't thinking and I wish I-"

"You don't get to say that," you cut her off, nearly scolding her. Her green eyes finally flew up to meet yours, and your heart sank to your stomach. "You don't get to tell me you didn't mean to hurt me and go do what you did." "They were stupid, shitty mistakes, and I know that, and I'm sorry." Ellie rambled with pleading eyes, almost scrambling to find all the right words to make this go away. She pushed herself off the desk she was leaning on and walked toward you, a gentle hand out to hold your arm. "I don't want... I can't lose you."

A wave of dread washed over you. All you've wanted is for her to love you the way you've loved her. To want you the way you've wanted her. She used to tell you how terrified she was of losing you. But with Ellie looking at you the way she was, you couldn't help but wonder if she was only saying this now just to save her ass. You reluctantly swallowed the thought and let her have her word.

"There's a lot I don't talk about anymore and I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry things have been getting worse, and it's not that I don't want you, I just..."

"And you just what?" you scoffed, belittling Ellie's explanation. The disdain in your voice made Ellie furrow her eyebrows, hurt flashing on her features for a fleeting moment. You were almost sorry for saying anything. "All those nights staying up and laughing. You were able to sleep through the night and eat a full meal again. We used to talk about everything and nothing... what the fuck happened to us?"

Silence.

Ellie looked away and out the window at the gentle flurries of snow. She sighed deeply, chewing the inside of cheek with her eyebrows furrowed. She felt it. You were getting tired of her. All the shit she's put you through, and you had finally reached your breaking point. She knew you deserved better, but Ellie was a selfish girl in love. She would never able to tell you to leave - and mean it.

"I don't even feel real anymore."

You had always been almost convinced that if you loved her enough, the pink would return to her cheeks. That maybe, the butterflies she'd feel when her name fell from your lips would quiet the maggots eating her up inside. But even in between stolen kisses and nights spent together, she’d never spare the breath to tell you about the trouble you always knew was brewing beneath the surface. She assumed if she remained in blissful ignorance of her own feelings, it would eventually go away. No tears to be had and regretted.

But she made her own mistakes anyway. You almost didn't feel bad for her anymore.

"So you go out and do this? Instead of talking to me?" you shot back, wishing her the same sadness that sat in your chest and pooled in your eyes. You moved away from the gently placed hand on your arm, spurning any of her affection toward you. "Did it feel real when you fucked her? Was it that good? Just had to keep going back for more? Maybe I'll go fuck someone else, too. How 'bout an ex to make it even?"

Seeing your eyes become glossy and talk about sleeping with an ex stirred self-disgust in Ellie's gut. She felt backed into a corner, forced to see her own reflection. God, she felt pathetic for having put you through it all. But like clockwork, the accountability only went so far before she scornfully projected. Her eyes darkened, and she took a step back to sneer at you.

"You know what? Maybe you should. Cause this shit right here?" she fired back, gesturing to the both of you. "Maybe this was the biggest mistake I've ever fucking made."

The last words that left her mouth struck you breathless. That nasty lump rising higher in your throat stoked the nausea you felt at her words. You could tell that your silence made Ellie itch. The inner corners of your eyebrows were raised and a dejected smile spread across your lips.

"THIS? This was your biggest mistake?" you laughed through your tears incredulously. "I never know what's going on in your head, El. You'd tell me you love me and you don't want to lose me. Kiss me one day and refuse to touch me the next. Find you fucking someone else, and that this hadn't been the first time...and here I am, making more fuckin' excuses for you."

"Then stop making them!" Ellie threw her hands up and then let them down, slapping her thighs in exasperation."Jesus Christ, I said I was sorry! What the fuck else do you want me to say? I fucked up, I know!"

"You don't get it," you whispered bitterly while you shook your head gently, the tears running hot across your cheeks. "I fucking loved you, Ellie. I would've done anything for you... Who was there when Tommy couldn't even bring himself to look at you? When Dina promised you'd never see JJ again? The nights you couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat?"

"I didn't need your fucking help!" Ellie raised her voice over yours, the guilt eating away at her more quickly. "I never asked you to be there, I would've always been fine on my own. I never fucking needed you."

"...Got it." You nodded sarcastically, wiping the tears from your eyes and cheeks, snatching your backpack off of Ellie's couch. "All the hurt I put myself through to make sure you were okay? I guess that's my fault, huh?"

Ellie's heart quickened watching you grab your belongings to leave. But she stood there frozen and powerless, wanting to make it better but also wanting it all to be over. How did she manage to fuck this up so badly? She knew in the next minute or so, she'd have to watch you walk out of that door and never come back.

"You're so terrified of losing me, right?" You said whilst rummaging through a pocket of your backpack and pulling out a small black journal. It was a journal she'd given you full of just little sketches and doodles - some of you, some of you both together, some of silly things.

"Y/N. Don't. Please, let me just-"

You chucked the book at Ellie, who couldn't meet your eyes again but drew closer to you in an attempt to keep you from leaving. The book struck the side of her chest but like a brick wall, she remained there, shamefully gnawing the inside of her mouth, a strand of her auburn hair falling into her face. If you had stared at her long enough, you'd notice the tears she'd been trying to blink away.

"Fuck you, Ellie. You did this shit to yourself."

Her front door slammed behind you as you stormed out and stepped off her porch. The feeling of the frozen wind stinging your cheeks and rustling your hair was almost pleasant. Well, what now?

You said what you had to say. But the pit in your stomach only grew heavier, and you felt sick. Somehow you knew.

You knew that no matter how many times you leave, how many times she hurt you, you would always love her, like a fucking fool.

Maybe it was never truly better to have loved and lost. Maybe you would've been better off if you had never loved at all.

#yall be kind now 😭 #first time writing as ellie :0 #apologies in advance for all the angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #writings #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams

[rallamajoop]

Resident Evil 7 and Mia's secrets

(Oh, did you think I was done talking about Mia? Not even close! >D)

Coming into this fandom late, I was surprised that popular fanon has it that Mia never does come clean to Ethan, post-RE7. Sure, RE8 depends on Mia not having told Ethan he died in Dulvey, but that has nothing to do with her own past with the Connections (and far more to do with Ethan's own denial, but that's a whole other thing).

Myself, I’d taken it as given that the scene where Ethan learns the truth must have just happened off-screen. Because, disappointing as that omission is, the whole damn game is leading up to it.

And having replayed RE7 lately, I realised there'd be no better way to explain my take than to catalog every time the game spells out to us that Ethan knows Mia’s keeping secrets and wants answers, and that Mia herself wants to come clean.

Heck, it’s just about the very first thing we learn about them.

“Ethan... You were right. I did lie to you. I shouldn’t have, but…”

Ethan's not actually stupid, and Mia's secrecy has obviously strained their marriage for some time. And as soon as Ethan finds her, he’s asking questions.

Here, he’s mostly asking who did this to you; it's way too early for real answers. But then Eveline takes control, shit goes down, and next we see her, it’s in her recorded message from the “Mia” video tape.

“There’s so much you need to know.”

When Ethan finds Mia again under the old house, he’s angry and has every right to be, and he doesn’t pull any punches.

“I always wanted to tell you…”

But Mia’s memory’s still a mess, and Lucas interrupts. Ethan’s next chance to ask questions comes in the boat, and he wastes no time.

“You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”

Mia’s a little more defensive here, but she’s not lying about the holes in her memory. The game’s gearing up for the big reveal anyway, and the writers aren’t about to let her spoil it early.

If you choose Zoe instead of Mia, Ethan spends the boat ride asking all the same questions, only louder.

“I knew Mia was hiding something.”

But in the end, what do we get?

Whoever you choose, Ethan only gets a few brief moments with Mia after she frees him from Eveline’s mould, and no explanations are offered. But if you do pick Mia, then we end with Ethan flying away with her in the helicopter, saying only, “Mia's back and she wants to start over,” and I’m left going, wait, what? Haven’t we skipped something here?

In defence of the fanon consensus that Ethan never finds out the truth, that does seem to be the ‘canonical’ intent ‒ at least inasmuch as there's this one throwaway bit about Mia not wanting Ethan to know buried in a bonus text file only available with this one overpriced DLC for RE8. That’s it, that’s as much explicit recognition as this thing ever gets, one way or the other. And fucking hell, but that's a let down.

Even if we assume that Mia’s desire to come clean goes away once her memory comes back, why would Ethan just stop asking? He’s been asking questions the whole damn game – was clearly asking questions long before the game began! Knowing that Eveline was controlling people doesn’t explain what Mia had to do with it all. Now he’s suddenly all, ‘killed the bad guy, saved the girl, everything’s fine’? Was all that ‘a door closed’ bullshit supposed to be him accepting he’d never get answers? Why?

There are workable ways to spin Ethan never finding out. You could suggest he just accepts that Mia’s memory is gone (hell, for all we actually see of the ending, Mia genuinely might have lost her memory again after Eveline sucked her back into the mould). After all the trauma Ethan’s been through, you could also suggest he’s gone directly into denial, refusing to face anything that might threaten his ‘happy ending’ with Mia. You could even suggest that that bit with Eveline saying 'I can make him love you' is her actively wiping Ethan's suspicions away. There's some lovely, subtle horror in any of these possibilities ‒ I would genuinely love to see all of them explored in fic! But none of them actually come through in the ending we get, and that omission is the single biggest issue that makes that conclusion to RE7 unsatisfying to me.

The whole damn game has been building up to the big confrontation where Ethan finds out the truth and (eventually, if not immediately) finds a way to forgive Mia, so we can still have our happy ending. As much OTT hate as Mia gets, the game is consistent in portraying her as someone who is painfully aware of how bad she’s fucked up, regrets it, and is committed to doing everything she can to protect the man she loves from the fallout of her mistakes.

I cannot overstate how willing Mia is to die to save Ethan, from the very moment she realises she's infected. She does die to save him if you choose Zoe over her. It's so much of why I ship them do hard.

But most frustrating of all, denying Mia the chance to come clean denies her any chance to explain herself. How did she get involved with the Connections? Did she know from the outset who she was working for? Did she genuinely buy into the idea they were finding ways to win wars without losing soldiers on battlefield, that the human casualties of all their work was worth it? If not, why did she keep working there? Was she slowly frog-boiled down to the deep end, did they have dirt on her, did she fear they might kill her if she tried to leave? What excuses did she make to herself as the months or years went on?

It's possible Mia’s the kind of hypocrite who doesn’t care about the human casualties of her employer, just as long as she and hers are okay, but nothing we see from her sells me on that interpretation. And even if she ever was, it's even harder to believe she's still that person after all she's been through.

It aggravates me that the games never gave us answers, not just because I want explanations that cast Mia in a sympathetic light, but because not giving us answers leaves this huge hole in her character. I'd even take explanations that cast her in an unsympathetic light, as long as it all ties together.

It irritates me even more because, even if Capcom wasn’t up for giving Ethan and Mia the big emotional confrontation they deserved, the solution was so simple: let Ethan find Mia’s diary on his way out of the ship. The whole goddamn franchise is filled with diaries and documents where characters lay out their backstories and motivations in ludicrous detail – why does Mia never get one? Just give us a handful of entries dated over the years, laying out her own feelings and anxieties about the job she’s doing. It would’ve been so easy!

It irritates me nearly as much that, even in the few corners of this fandom sympathetic to Mia, no-one seems to be very interested in answering these questions in fic or shared headcanons (and if there are examples out there I don't know about, please do link me to them!) How much did Mia know about what she was getting into when she started working for the Connections? Was it the job she kept telling herself was just until she could find something better, only for that ‘something better’ to never come along? Did she have stains on her record that made it hard to find another job? How much of her lying was a misguided attempt to protect Ethan, and how much was simply about protecting herself? There's so much to explore here!

This is also where I mention that I've already put my money where my mouth on this one, and written up my own take on Mia's backstory, and how Ethan might have found out the truth. You don't have to agree with my version, of course ‒ I mean it when I say I'd love to see other people's ideas too. Heck, I'd even be up for versions where Ethan ultimately can't forgive her, just as long as people come at it from the angle of looking at Mia as a character, not just a one-dimensional-villain.

But of course, I'd still prefer to think about versions where these two do find a way to make it work. It takes a lot to make me ship het this hard, but these two stealth-badasses have pulled it off with style.

#Mia Winters #Ethan Winters #mithan #Resident Evil 7 #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #Mia Winters week #RE lore #meta

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER THREE — EDDIE MUNSON COMMITS TREASON (BREAKS UP a CAT FIGHT)

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: you deal with the fallout of your fight at steve harrington's party... in the passenger seat of eddie munson's van. so much for pretending you didn't exist to one another, huh? content warnings: as always, MINORS FUCK OFF, because we have *deep breath* implied fantasy smut, lots of swearing, confused yearning, themes of threat, heavy snark, another mention of the drink tab which i feel like is/was gross word count: 7.2k

Dear Dio, Tommy Iommi, Gary Gygax, Pee-wee Herman, Ronnie Ecker — forgive me for what I’m about to do. 

I know I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life. Like the time I lit all my hair on fire and spent middle school with a buzz cut. Or the time I almost trapped myself in a spread eagle with my own handcuffs. Or the time I got my arm stuck in a wall for an entire afternoon when I was trying to rescue a feral cat. 

I’ve done a lot of stupid shit. But the stupidest among it all has got to be saving this girl from the bare knuckle wrath of Carol Whatsername. You know the one. 

Tonight, for whatever reason, this insane ex-rich chick has decided to teeter on the edge of a pool of boiling hot lava and for whatever reason, I feel like it’s my responsibility to yank her back.

Which sucks, because she’s a total bitch to me. 

Even if she just told everybody Tommy Hagan had crabs and has been cheating on his girlfriend in such a deranged way that it almost made me pop a semi. 

Anyway. Tell my guitar I love her. 

The world around Eddie slows to the tick of a football game replay as you let the last incendiary word you speak to Carol bounce around the goddamn Roman amphitheater Harrington’s back yard has become. 

This is insane. What he’s watching is insane. Like, he knew you and your dumb little court of Hawkinsites bickered back and forth, but you’re the last person he’d ever expect to air their dirty laundry like this. 

It’s incredible to watch the fascist leadership that he and the rest of the social nobodies have suffered under for so long rupture in real time. 

What’s even more incredible is how little hesitation there is on his part, shoving through the crowd when he sees Carol leaping for you. Eddie’s nearly jostled backwards by some slobbering roid heads— they’ve already called CAT FIGHT! and a crowd is clamoring. But Eddie’s got years of thankless equipment lugging behind him, giving him deceptively strong arms.

And thank god, because you are not an easy girl to hold onto. 

Carol lands a decent punch to your face, slamming with a dull knuckle-on-cheekbone crunch that makes all the onlookers, including him, go ooof! You stagger back in a state of shock (though, c’mon, you heard what you said just now, right?) and Eddie takes his shot just as you dive forward to retaliate.

He grabs you under the arms so you can’t like, elbow him in the fucking nose, a pale imitation of an illegal wresting move that Al Munson had forced him to learn at the tender age of seven. His dad had fancied himself a wrestling manager at the time— you can imagine how that worked out. 

But Jesus, can you ever squirm! Your body writhes against him—stop—hips bucking—don’t go there—as you try to get free. He doesn’t even think you realize who’s dragging you away from the screaming harpy, otherwise you’d probably turn your fury on him. 

He takes full advantage of the rage blackout and manhandles you through the party, earning a baffled look from Steve Harrington, who’s finally graced his own party with his presence. A pinch-faced Nancy Wheeler lingers behind him, but then again, Wheeler’s always all pinch-faced.

“What the fuck?!” Harrington breathes, exasperated. 

Eddie struggles against you struggling, just about dragging you over the front doorstep. Trust this guy to be upstairs in a domestic dispute, missing all the action while getting no action. 

Even in the chaos, Eddie will never pass up an opportunity to fuck with Harrington.

“You gotta start hidin’ your bath salts, man! Chicks are going crazy in there–Evil Dead type shit!” 

—

“You’re dead, Lacy! Monday morning, you are fucking dead!” Carol screams down the hallway. 

“It’s a date, bitch!” you screech, Munson’s nelson hold on you stronger than your thrashing. With a lot of work, he manages to haul you as far as Harrington’s front yard before you wriggle out of his grasp. You shove him, hard, all white hot and punch drunk and regular drunk on top of that. 

He yelps, high and frightened. You weren’t expecting a noise like that to come out of a surly-looking dude like him. 

So you do it again. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you spit, and Munson flinches.

“Cutting you off!” he exclaims, this half-yell, half-laugh. It stings, the way he’s looking at you– like your anger isn’t anger, like it’s just amusing to him. 

“Well, who gave you the right? Who died and made you my parole officer, Munson?!” 

“Oh, I’m not– but I also didn’t feel like being woken up at home when the cops come looking for you after you go all Raging Bull on Carol. You haven’t been around the park long enough to hear ‘em, but those sirens really perforate the eardrums!”

Your jaw sets itself stiffly and you bind your arms over your chest. Unfuckingbelievable. “I would’ve, you know,” you breathe, seething, “Beat her up.” 

Munson’s dark eyes glide over you, like he’s checking you for concealed weapons or signs of a zombie bite— you avoid his gaze entirely, staring square into the middle distance. 

You promised that he didn’t exist to you, yet here he is. Driving you off the road. Breaking up your fights. Existing.

“Yeah, I know you woulda. You’re scary,” he says. You shrug, and he reaches to massage his shoulder. “And strong. Shit.” 

Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t feel bad. You don’t feel bad because he’s grinning at you now and despite yourself, despite everything that’s transpired and the everything about him, you’re trying your hardest not to grin back. Adrenaline and vodka are still burning a hole in your chest. 

“Stay out of my way, then.”  

“Noted, but,” a couple of steps from Munson’s end closes some space between you. He’s peering at your face, right where Carol clocked you. A hand reaches out, angling your chin closer to the Harrington’s glaring porch light with his fingertips. You stiffen and squint, performatively wary, but you don’t stop him. You just let his eyes pan over you, looking anywhere but into them. “You might need a little first aid first. And a ride home.” 

“I was actually planning on carjacking Hagan,” you say coolly, the smile you were trying to beat away edging its way across your face. Munson releases your chin and the spot where his fingers were buzzes. It’s just the cold. It’s just your slutty librarian outfit, you tell yourself. You have to swallow in order to speak again. “Seems like fitting payback.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, what did I just say about cops?”

—

Eddie tolerates your eyes rolling back in your head when he props the passenger door open for you, helping you into the cluttered van with an outstretched had. 

See, I’m not the kind of asshole who doesn’t open doors for girls wearing stilts for shoes.

Those things were not made for clambering into a vehicle like this, sure, but they’re– nice. For what he knows about shoes, which is nothing. They make your legs look more… leggy, and for whatever reason this is making his brain soft. 

In your other hand is a cold can of High Life, which is the closest thing to an ice pack he could nab. That bruise blooming under your eye is going to be nasty, and he’s a little curious how you’re gonna look with it. You, with nary a hair out of place on a bad day, with a big ol’ purple shiner in a place that’s hard to hide.  

Gunning out of Harrington’s hood, a silence settles between Eddie and you. The radio hums in the background– a mainstream station for once. He thoughtfully figured that an aural assault by Sabbath would kinda rub salt in your wound. 

He’s thoughtful, but he’s not not nosy. So, of course he’s gonna ask– 

“That whole… verbal smackdown back there,” Munson starts after clearing his throat. “With Tommy H and everybody.”

On your end, the adrenaline has worn off and the numbing effects of the booze have amped up. You feel loose and warm, apart from the beer can cooling your bruise. There are twice as many streetlights streaming past you as usual. This is going to blow later– if you don’t blow chunks first. 

“All that about your dad pimping me out?” God, I mean, Hagan couldn’t compose a written sentence to save his life but maybe he had a future in speculative fiction. Did he just come up with that on the fly? “Take a wild guess, Munson.” 

Eddie recoils in his seat– gross. Gross. “Not the– the shit with Tina and Carol and–”

“Oh, the crabs? Yeaaaah, that’s true,” you slur, “But I rejected Tommy waaay before I knew that. Call it my brilliant instinct. And then he has the nerve to call me frigid, which– trust me, I’m anything… anything but.”

Munson seems a little surprised at this. You can see it in the way his eyebrows dart under his curly bangs. 

But you’ve had your share of disappointing experiences with the blandly acceptable boys in your circle– it’s par for the course, it’s part of advancing in the field. You can’t throw your cat into the street completely, but god forbid you be choosy about the boys you want to copulate with. The ones you’ve hooked up with, all unremarkable and perfunctory, always seemed so smug afterwards. Like they’d conquered something. 

But from Eddie’s purview, you always held yourself like you were above everyone else; not just the underclassmen and the social rejects, but even your own friends. He’d watch you sometimes, because it’s hard not to watch you. He’d wait for the few flickering moments you let your guard down, when you thought no one was paying attention as you sat at the lunch table or walked the hallways. So achingly unamused by the guffawing, the backslapping, the forced camaraderie of your forced high school persona and your forced high school friends. Then, one of them would say something like, Right, Lacy? and your brow would unarch and you’d be right back in the groove with the rest of them, giggling dumbly and glossing your lips. 

He always wondered how you did it, tolerated it. And why.

“Now, far be it from me to agree with a shithead like Hagan–and I don’t, before you get scary–but I kinda get where he’s picking that up,” Eddie winces, throwing a glance to you, glassy-eyed with your head against the window. You’re looking at him with narrowed eyes, eyeliner smudged. Even that look could cut down a man with twice his ego. “You’re a little bit frosty. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day– which, y’know, could be–”

You absolutely do not let him finish the thought.   

“It’s caaaalled being aloof, Munson,” you drawl, shuffling your shoulders against the passenger door and pulling a stray thread from your skirt with a sharp snap. “Playing hard to get, duh? Leave them wanting more? You wouldn’t get it because you’re so goddamn big and obvious all the time…”

“Obvious!” he brays, letting his jaw hang open with theatrical flair, “Obvious! Lacy, you wound me, I–”

“Obvious,” you bark back, “Obvious like a neon sign, obvious like a circus tent, obvious like– like– look at me, look at me, I’m a weirdo!” Your Munson impression, complete with devil horns, is a little dorkified but it shuts him right up. That loose little tongue of yours has trasmuted your mood from wrath to barbed silliness. “So obvious you wouldn’t know that kind of subtlety. Not if it hit you in the face.” 

A familiar tune whistles from the radio, distracting you. “… or cause you’re a virgin.”

“Okay—!“ Eddie starts, immediately assuming the position of point guard. His hackles are raised, but to be honest, he’s so willing to let you ramble on. It’s the first time he’s heard you talk this much, ever, save your little tête-à-tête by the lockers the other day. 

Eddie doesn’t want to stem the flow just yet. He’s not thinking about it too hard.

“Oh shit, do you hear that?” Like a Virgin pumps from the tinny speakers and you reach to turn it up, your head drunkenly bobbling on your neck. Eddie winces; it’s so weird, watching you like this. It’s like dream logic. It’s like opposite day. “Munson’s a virgin! I’m gonna touch him for the very first tiii-iime! Munson’s a vii-iir-gin—“

“First off, no I am not and no,” he audibly swallows, positive you didn’t realize what you just sang, “no, you are not, ‘cause— well.” He clears his throat. A flare of heat burns around his collar. “I’m not the type to bone and tell.”

“Bone and tell.” You guffaw, a sound so unbecoming yet so endearing coming from you, and slump back in your seat. That tight little skirt you’re wearing rides up about an inch and a half. “Sounds like something a virgin would say.”

Eddie huffs; no way around this. You’re fucking with him, and it’s the indefatiguable male ego that’s not going to let him let you win. 

He fucks, okay? Or has fucked, prior to this. 

Not that there’s anything wrong with not fucking. 

But he’s done it.  

Eddie’s eyes dart between you and the road, and you’ve got him like a stuck pig with that expectant glare. His eyes linger on your exposed upper legs for a half a second. 

Christ, you’re annoying. It occurs to him that wants to bite the soft flesh of your thigh and hear you squeal about it, but you are annoying as hell. 

“Fine. Fine. You wanna know?”

Your head lolls against the rough upholstery of the seat and you bat your lashes at him. “I really wanna know.” 

And Munson will tell you, you know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to. 

“Nicole Summers.”

“Bullshit. Nicole Nicole? My Nicole?”

“Nicole Nicole. Nicole, formerly yours. The only-girl-meaner-than-you Nicole. It was tenth grade,” he snorts bitterly. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life.”

“Nicole told us she got her v-card stamped by a board waxer in Maui.”

“I’ve got a lot of side gigs. You don’t know about me.”

You snort too, despite yourself. That’s a lot of despite-ing tonight, Lacy. You sit up in the seat a little, interest catching. Flame to a candle wick. 

“How was it?” you press. 

Munson furrows his brow, like duh. “Most unforgettable thirty seconds of my life, I just told you.” A beat. “Until— …Cass Finnigan.”

Now, an encounter like that is less surprising, but still you holler, “Bullshit!”

“I’d say the same shit if it hadn’t, y’know, happened to me,” he stage whispers, “In this van.”  

Your eyes widen, a flicker of a grimace sailing across your face. You wonder how he pulled that off, but all that comes to mind is the start of a bad porno– Cass meets him at that dingy little bench out back of the school to pick up and he’s, I don’t know, test driving some of his new supply and offers her a toke. She’s all, why the free samples, Munson? and he’s all, I only let the prettiest girls test the product. And because Cass is notoriously insecure–who among us, girl–she’s all, who, me? and he’s all, come back to my van, and she’s all, but I’m going steady with Mikey B, and he’s all, I won’t tell if you won’t and then he fucks her in the ass. 

Because Cass is saving the first hole for marriage and you know that. You’re the kind of person people tell things to. 

What you don’t expect is a weird pull of… envy. Why, in this imaginary scenario, had he never invited you back to his van? Well. You know why. But you’re drunk, so logic begone. “When did all this go down?”

“Uh, right before school got back,” Munson answers, kind of apprehensively. He could be lying, you figure.

“Well, Cass has been having a weird year,” you mumble, meaning to think that rather than say it. You know, because you’re the kind of person people tell things to.

“What’s that supposed to imply exactly?” Eddie says, an edge in his voice. He can’t help the way something in his chest flares; like he forgot to wait for the other shoe to drop with you, and now it’s dropping. 

“It stands to reason that she’d wanna, like, do something stupid,” you explain, and you know how it sounds. It’s mean. But honestly, you’re so drunk, and so past the point of attempting to spare people’s feelings.

“Like hook up with the local freak,” Eddie finishes for you, tone flat. You couldn’t not put him in his place, could you? Not that he thought Cass liked him or anything, he could feel her (literally feel her) going through the motions like a social experiment but– God, a little delusion doesn’t hurt now and again. 

“Exactly!” and even in your inebriated state, you can feel the tension in the air, hanging between you like a balloon full of noxious gas. Rather than cut it, you want to poke at it, unfeeling as to whether that’ll make it worse or better between you and the boy in the driver’s seat. You hike yourself up further, leaning toward him, pulling the can of High Life from your face. 

Munson’s profile is this beguiling mix of hurt and irritation, lit by the scuzzy orange hue of the passing streetlights. 

“What, did you want me to act impressed? Did you want me to lie to you?” 

“What? No– look, I know what girls like that– think of me, but,” Eddie’s voice shrinks in his throat, making him sound completely pre-pubescent. He notices you lean forward in his peripheral vision, like you have to strain to hear it, “that doesn’t make it any less shitty.” 

Oof. He did not need to unleash that little piss-shake of earnestness right now. He mentally steels himself for a ribbing from you, a cackling, piercing laugh like you let out before Carol punched you. 

“Of course it doesn’t!” you froth, “Just like it doesn’t make it any less shitty when guys act like they’re settling a bet with their buddies when they hook up with me.” You cross your arms to your chest with a quickness, slamming back into the seat. “Bet you couldn’t make it with Lacy, she’s got a combination lock on her pussy. Fuck you, dude.”

That coaxes a bark of a laugh from Munson, which makes you giggle a little in turn. It’s a weird feeling. It’s not quite relief; more like satisfaction. One point to Lacy, you made him laugh. 

“Combination lock, huh?”

“Allegedly.”

“Bet none of those losers even know how to crack a lock.” 

Your head tilts in his direction, forward this time. “And you do?”

Munson’s eyes flash at you, a dangerous orange glint sparkling in the darkness of his irises. “My criminal skillset is pretty diverse.”

He pins you down with this look from the driver’s seat and for a heartbeat or two, and you let him. Just long enough that a stab of sobriety sneaks in– and you can’t deny it, but you wish it didn’t. 

You’re drunk. 

If you can stay drunk, all bets are off. 

If you can stay drunk, whatever you do doesn’t matter, because you were drunk. 

You could reach over and press your fingers into the soft denim between his legs, make something hard there. You could squeeze the thickness of him over his zipper and kiss the shock of alabaster skin on his neck, where his pulse goes all jackrabbity under your touch. You could make him forget he ever heard the name Cass Finnigan. 

And it would mean nothing. 

And you wouldn’t have to justify it, because you were drunk. That’s what you’ve always been taught.

But you uncross your arms and you pull at the hem of your skirt and look to the road, just as the van swerves into the trailer park. Munson doesn’t take such a hard turn at the corner this time, probably wary of your risk of ralphing all over the van if he does. He pulls into that negative space between your trailer and his and instructs you to wait in your seat. 

“Trust me, the descent out of this baby is much trickier than it looks,” he assures you, jogging to the passenger door, a jingle of keys and pocket chains and belts on leather, “and you’re way too gone to make it in one piece, princess.”

So he holds his hand out again (“M’shitfacedlady,”) and gingerly you take it, and it becomes very apparent very quickly that your legs have turned to rubber on the drive home. 

“Oh, shit!” 

Your attempt at gracefully exiting the van is ruined by an unsteady ankle, sending your weight right into Eddie Munson’s chest. Luckily, he was braced for it– just about. “Told you you couldn’t make it without me,” he breathes as you clutch a handful of his Metallica shirt, vision quadrupling. He’s warm, and you suddenly realize that you’re freezing.

Trembling.

“Stop flirting with me,” you hiss to one out of the four Munsons in front of you. “I need to go to bed.”

Eddie forces himself to bite back another double entendre, which is a shame, because they’re doing an awesome job of covering up how goddamn nervous he suddenly is. He moves his arm to your waist, helping you haul ass to your front door. He’s got to keep one arm outstretched behind you in case you lose your balance again– which you almost do, a couple of times, wavering around like a dashboard Jesus. 

He watches you like he’s trying to commit this to memory, the rare case of you being so beyond your usual composure. He’s even got to intervene after the first five minutes, making unlocking your front door a two idiot job.

Eddie’s about to wave you off and disappear to scream and something else into his pillow when he sees you take a dangerous lunge into the darkness of the trailer. “Woah, girl–” 

But you recover, in a kind of brainless way, taking a measured Bambi-like step forward. One after the other. 

Fuck. He can’t leave you like this. 

You’re gonna trip and brain yourself on a Fabergé egg or whatever the fuck it is you and your mom have in there. 

“Uh– Lacy?” 

The trailer is eerily quiet. You feel like you’re trespassing in your own place. Boxes of out-of-place, too-expensive ephemera are still strewn everywhere, but you navigate the maze of them like it’s nothing. Sense memory. You don’t even entirely register that Munson is following you inside, that he’s frantically whispering after you, until you reach your bedroom door. 

A coldness shoots up your spine as you turn on him. You didn’t invite him in here, did you? 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask for the second time tonight. This time, it comes out a little fearful. 

Eddie picks this up, right where you’ve erroneously dropped it. His chest gets a little tight. You didn’t think he was trying to–? 

“Making sure you lie down in the recovery position, that’s all,” he throws his hands up in total surrender, Scout’s honor, all that shit. “I’m not tryin’ to pick any locks tonight. I swear.” 

“I don’t need your help, Munson,” but just as you twist the doorknob, you keel over through the door, hitting the floor like a lead balloon. 

“Yeah, you keep telling me that,” he blearily smirks down at you, “And yet.”

But Munson’s not such an asshole about it that he just leaves you there. He hauls you up, again, and you stagger towards your bed, flopping face down on top of the comforter. He says some variation of okay, well, that’s how you choke to death on your own vomit, Jimi Hendrix and bullies you into the recovery position. 

“Don’t freak out, I’m just–” and Munson sits gingerly on the edge of your bed, taking one of your high heeled feet in his hands. 

What the fuck, you mumble, either aloud or in your head. But he’s fiddling with the tiny buckle at your ankle, gently undoing it. Another chill runs through your body but you don’t move, not an iota. You just… let him do it. His hands on your aching feet aren’t a totally unwelcome touch. He’s being featherlight about it, almost afraid to touch you even though he had no problem sheepdogging you into bed. 

“You could do anything to me right now,” you hear yourself saying. “No one would even know. No one would even care, I bet.” 

It’s meant to sound like you’re goading him, or even flirting with him, but it comes out sounding pitiful. You cringe, your hands creeping up to cover your face. 

“I’d care.” Munson’s voice is a tiny mumble– you know he’s just defending himself, but it kind of sounds like something else. He slips your right shoe off and sets it on the floor next to your left one. He hesitates for a moment before getting off your bed. 

“Alright, well– we can forget this ever happened. Resume being assholes to each other on Monday. Don’t, like, die in the meantime.”

“You say resume like we ever stopped being assholes to each other.”

“Have a fun hangover, Lacy.” 

–

You do not have a fun hangover. You wake up late Saturday afternoon after Friday’s bacchanal and don’t emerge from your room save from the occasional bathroom trip to puke up what little dignity you’ve got left. Sunday morning is when your mom hammers on the door and drags you to the kitchenette after confirming that you’re still, y’know, alive. 

“This is your game face, hm?” she says, pulling at your chin to examine your violet bruise that seems to have developed its own heartbeat. She doesn’t hold your face the way Munson did, gentle and searching, just tugs into the sparse light streaming into the dingy kitchenette.

You attempt to steel your jaw, but your bottom lip is starting to waver. 

“What happened?” your mother asks, and beneath all the jagged broken glass, there’s a tiny sliver of tenderness. 

Call it your pride, but you don’t reach for it. 

“I went out,” you say tightly, “and I made a fool of us.”

She hacks up a scoff through her smoker’s cough and disappears into her bedroom, leaving you alone to pick at a cold waffle. The few moments of consciousness you’ve had since Friday night have been spent trying to piece the party together– you remember clearing the better part of a bottle of cheap, cheap, shitty vodka with Robin Buckley’s help (weird), you remember getting into it with Hagan and Carol and getting wailed on. You remember getting a ride home with Munson, but the finer details of that are fuzzy. 

You think, and this is a thought that turns your already 180’d stomach, you let him into your bedroom, but you can’t be one hundred percent sure. All you know for an absolute is that your shoes came off that night, and you would never bother to take your shoes off after a night like that. 

So somebody must have. 

Meanwhile, Eddie’s been having a hell of a meanwhile. 

Fact of the matter is that you managed to detonate a nuclear bomb at Harrington’s party just under an hour after your arrival, which has got to be some kind of world record. It was also a world record for how little product he’d managed to sell during one of those parties, because he was preventing the manslaughter of a teenage girl– could’ve been you, could’ve been Carol. He nearly wishes he let that fight play out, as he stares into his empty wallet. 

Eddie’s gotta busy himself somehow, gotta do something– weirdly, he’s not in the mood to make a whole lot of noise. It’s not such a terrible day for working on his van, so he slams his toolbox on the ground and gives a couple dozen casual glances toward your bedroom window.

Your blinds still aren’t fixed. That’s got to have been shitty when you woke up with a splitting vodka headache and a shiner the size of Canada. 

Eddie keeps finding excuses to pace back and forth in perfect view of your window. Not in a peeping Tom sort of way, but in a way where he’d kind of like to see any sign of life from you. Even if you just rose from your bed like Nosferatu and gave him the finger. Then, he could relax. 

“Ed,” a gruff voice comes from the makeshift trailer porch, “fuck’re you doin’.” 

Those dulcet tones would belong to his beloved Uncle Wayne, who, ever since his hours got cut at the plant, has become unbearably observant of Eddie’s every movement. Wayne’s not a neglectful kind of father figure, not like his blinders-wearing real dad is, so he actually gets concerned when Eddie’s acting out of sorts. 

“Engine,” Eddie mumbles, pivoting fast like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, “Engine’s making hinky noises.”

“Sounded alright last night,” Wayne levels him instantly, “when you came home.” 

“Didn’t mean to wake ya,” he twists an oily rag in his hands, avoiding Wayne’s stony stare. 

“I was up.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe. God, whenever Wayne susses him out, it’s like drip torture. He’s slow as molasses with the confrontation on purpose, making Eddie sweat and out himself on every little fuck up he’s ever made. “You go in there?”

Chin jerks towards your trailer. Eddie’s shoulders shrug towards his ears, head tilting back. “Wayne, it’s not– she was real drunk, like blotto, I just–”

“You steer clear of that one.” It’s the definite nature with which Wayne says it that makes Eddie’s stomach drop. No prelude to it, no I know, kid, you were just tryin’ to do right by her. Nothing. 

“Wayne–”

“She ain’t what you think she is. Not if she’s anything like her bloodline.” 

He says this like the realization hasn’t hit Eddie like Carol hit you on Friday fight night. 

He says this like people haven’t been saying the same thing about Eddie for years.

–

Monday morning comes and you’re still somewhat suffering. A headache nags at your temple, but you pin that down to anxiety rather than an extended play of your hangover. 

It occurs to you that you should dress as down as possible today– realistically, of course, as you’d never be caught dead in sweatpants. You need comfort, you need something that feels like a well-worn blanket so you opt for a deep burgundy sweater dress that actually belonged to your mom in the 60s. 

You’d found it in the back of her closet when searching for a belt you knew she’d stolen from you and pulled it out. Mom! you chirped, How cute! How come you never wear this?

Oh, God, she’d cringed, batting the garment out of her way as she passed you in a cloud of Shalimar, Just throw that ratty thing out for me, would you?

But you didn’t. You kept it tucked away in the back of your closet and took it out when you needed it. When you needed to bury your face in it. Substitute it for a comfort she refused to give you. Which you realize is terrifically sad, but so’s life. 

The warm red is a distant cousin in the color family to the bruise under your eye. That bruise, it’s a glaring reminder of what a fucking loser you’ve become. The old you, the real you would never have stooped to that level– never had let them drag her down like that. But now you’re the kind of girl that screams and starts fights at parties, you guess. 

Your rage feels ugly in the cold light of day. 

You’re locking the door of the trailer behind you just as Munson emerges from his humble abode and it’s nothing short of awkward. Like you’d both seen each other naked or something.

You both stand there, in your relative doorways. His mouth gapes like he’s about to say hi, say something, and a memory comes back to you. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day. No one likes that. No one wants that. 

Regret stabs at you.

“Can you see it from there?” It’s the only thing you can think of to say, because you’re sure as fuck not saying hi. 

“What?”

“The bruise. Can– can you see it from over there?” 

Munson sort of half-snorts. “Not from here–”

“Ugh, thank god.”

“--but this is like, over fifteen feet away.” 

You roll your eyes, which hurts a lot, thanks guy, and walk toward his van. 

“Now?” you say, waving a hand under your eye, right where you’ve applied and blended and applied and blended a criminal amount of concealer. Munson leaves about a foot of space between you, on purpose, and you crane your neck back, on purpose. Reinstating the forcefield between you. 

“Oh yeah, you can barely even see that you got your ass kicked.”

“It’s not even eight in the morning, Munson. Do you really want to start your day with a knee to the balls?”

“You’re right. That’s usually an after-dinner activity,” he grins and jerks his head toward the van. “Need a ride?”

Need a ride? Like it’s the most ordinary, everyday thing in the world, Eddie Munson offering you a ride to school in his deathtrap of a van. Your stomach pulls at the sense memory of being in there on Friday night, and what you’ll look like getting out of it in the parking lot of Hawkins High. 

“No,” you say, shaking your head, definite and resolute. “I’m walking.” 

He scoffs. “C’mon. It’s too late to start walking now. You’ll be late for first period.” 

You scoff back, imitating him. “So what?”

“You’re never late for first period.” 

“I can be late– how the hell do you know I’m never late for first period?” 

“Because, dummy, I’m always late for first period,” he tells you, yanking open the passenger door, “And I sit behind you in History, and you’re always there when I come in, leaning back with your nose in some dumb book and your stupid hair all over my desk.” 

It’s true– you are always reading in history, because Kaminsky can’t teach for shit and you’ve already read ahead on the coursework anyway. You liked to rub that in his face by pulling out some unprescribed literature during class. Plus, no one you really care about is in your class, so you don’t have to worry about getting made fun of for having your nose in some dumb book. Illiterate jocks would never try that shit with you– nobody there would. 

Until now. 

And it’s true that Eddie Munson sits behind you, and barrels in like an idiotic excuse for a hurricane with some idiotic excuse for being late that you always scoff at, because does he ever get tired of his own bullshit. But after that brief cameo appearance in your day, you really do forget about him. 

Until now. 

“So?” he says, all expectant. 

And you consider it for a second, you really do– but you don’t think you can handle the blowback of leaving a party with Eddie Munson on Friday then turning up with him on Monday. Going to the same class. Where he sits behind you. It’s just… overexposure. 

The same realization must hit him, because all of a sudden he’s slamming the door shut with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever. Your tardy slip, babe.” You can’t help but think he sounds a little wounded. 

But fuck it. Fuck it! Since when do you stand around feeling sorry for Eddie Munson? 

Before you know it, the van roars out and leaves you in the dust. 

You don’t make it to school until after second period, because that so-called bus route a fifteen minute walk from the trailer park must not even exist, so you forge a note from your mom in the parking lot. 

As your fountain pen hovers over the paper, brainstorming an excuse, you consider pulling out the big guns– say you had to attend visitation day at the penitentiary. Use this disaster to your advantage for once; but you pull back. Scribble something about a doctor’s appointment and dot your mother’s ‘i’s with eerie precision.  

You make quick work of dropping the note off in reception– the uptick of being the kid of the town’s gossip beacon is some people still feel sorry for you. Some people weirdly include Janice, Principal Higgins’ secretary, who snatches the note from you before you can even reach the actual receptionist’s desk. 

“I’ll file that for you, dear,” she says, all coo-cooey with an unwelcome hand on your shoulder, “How are you and your poor mother doing these days? And your,” her croaky voice drops to a whisper, “dad? How is… he being treated?”

You blink at her, gripping the fountain pen in your hand. “Do you know what a shiv is, Janice?”

Just then, the bell trills and you take your leave, stepping out into the linoleum. 

Someone calls your name from down the hall. You crane your neck to see Ronnie Ecker jogging toward you, paper in hand. 

Now look, you’ve never had a problem with Ronnie Ecker. You can’t say you’re particularly fond of her but she’s smart; she keeps to herself and she was a decent lab partner during your junior year of dissecting frogs together. Squeamish, but that’s why you were there, to handle the scalpel. As much of a social outcast as she is, she’s not nearly as odious as the rest of them. That’s pretty goddamn remarkable amongst the Hawkins student body. 

She is also, you’ve come to notice, a resident of Forest Hills trailer park. 

“Hey!” she says, “Um, I noticed you missed first period and Kaminsky was handing our papers back so I figured you’d want yours…” 

“Why is everyone so obsessed with me missing first period?”

“Huh?”

“No– nothing,” you huff, taking the paper from her. A solid B on A+ material– told you Kaminsky couldn’t teach for shit. He’d be hearing from you about this. “Thanks for this, Ronnie.”

You start down the hall but notice Ronnie’s keeping in step with you. “I also just wanted to say– I heard about what happened Friday. And I think it’s sick, you standing up to Hagan like that. Asshole needed to be put in his place.” 

Well, there’s only one person she could have heard the nitty gritty of that news from. You know she’s trying to flatter you, but all you feel is a flame of embarrassment, plus a touch of anger– even though the news has easily circulated the school hallways by now. 

Along with the rumors of you taking Hargrove, Buckley and Munson, and not in a fight. 

“Well. Y’know. I was pretty wasted,” you attempt to brush it off and you see Ronnie deflate a little. 

Like you’re not the blazing hero someone made you out to be. 

“Okay, but is it true you had a threesome with Billy Hargrove and Robin Buckley and Robin was wearing the Tigers mascot suit?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

–

Classes pass in a monotonous blur, like most Mondays, but worse. That would be thanks to the extra shot of dread that’s served with your cafeteria meal of a wilted salad and soda. Last week at lunchtime, you at least had a tenuous standing with your former circle– you could still sit between Tina and Nancy Wheeler and suffer Tina’s thinly veiled jabs at you with a semi-placid look on your face. Nancy would look at you with eyes full of pity, and you’d want to punch her face in, but you’d be fine. 

But now, as you stand in the cafeteria swirling with people and catch the death glares from your old table (save for Nancy and Steve Harrington, who just straight up refuse to make eye contact with you), you’re just about ready to snap. 

Your flight instinct tells you to toss the tray out of your clammy hands and run, and keep running, until you disappear into the woods behind the school, never to be found. Your body becomes mulch before anyone remembers to look for you. Maybe you make really good fertilizer and a couple of pretty weeds sprout up from where you die. 

Your bruise, under its flaking layers of concealer, throbs twice– as if to say, don’t you fucking dare.

You make a confident beeline for the table, chin tilted and eyes set in a stare that could be categorized as withering, if only it was trained on anybody in particular. You grab a chair that some dumb underclassman is about to sit in and drag it with you, legs screeeeeching across the waxed floor. 

Who gives a shit who you were on Friday night. 

“I can sit here, right?” you say, and place your tray on the table next to Ronnie Ecker. 

She just stares at you for a hot second. That’s too long to stay standing in uncertainty, so you settle your stolen chair at the table and sit next to her. 

Ronnie isn’t the only one staring, however– the rest of these dorks, all in their matching t-shirts with Satan’s fiery head emblazoned across them, are watching you with their mouths agape. 

“Is this a prank or something?” one of them, a curly-haired freshman, says. 

This question is directed toward their fearless leader, decked out in denim and leather at the head of the table. That is to say, the direct opposite end of the table that you’re sitting at. 

“That’s no way to greet a lady, Gareth,” Munson says, feigning coolness but you can tell he’s a little flustered. The dead giveaway is in the way he misses his mac and cheese with his fork, the way his solid gaze double-blinks. You’ve thrown him off game– and because he’s impossible not to overhear sometimes, you know that game is all he’s got going on at this table. 

There’s that feeling again– point to Lacy. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?”

This is Munson’s version of what the hell do you think you’re doing, but you choose to ignore him. It’ll drive him insane, and you know that, glaring red warning sign that he is. Instead, you flash a smile at the freshman that almost makes him pass out, Cupid’s arrow struck straight through the heart. 

You cross your legs and angle your body toward Ronnie– and by extension, in the direction of your old table. You can see Carol burying her face in Tommy’s shoulder, the both of them on the verge of losing bowel control with laughter. Laughter at you. 

Who gives a shit who you were before Friday night.

“So, Ronnie,” you say, taking a sip of your Tab, “You get up to anything fun this weekend?”

author's notes: let me get ahead of everything and say yes, i am absolutely fucking with the timeline. suspend your disbelief, my beautiful babies, and enjoy steve, carol, tommy and ronnie ecker still being in high school because I SURE WILL. but on an absolutely serious note, thank you so much for all the support and each and every note you’ve put on the chapters so far. i seriously, seriously appreciate it. now, the notes: - you think eddie munson doesn’t fuck with pee-wee herman heavy? you think he didn’t watch this movie in reefer rick’s, high out of his gourd, and think oh yeah i love this freak? get REAL! RIP paul reubens, this one’s for you. specially every time i mention a handjob - eddie munson also has charlie kelly disease - speaking of iterations of always sunny characters, much like frank reynolds, there’s not a get rich quick scheme al munson hasn’t tried. we’ll get into that a little more… later - admittedly, the whole ‘face eating on bath salts’ thing didn’t gain traction until the 00s, but if hawkins is going to be ahead of its time in anything, it’s fucked up shit happening to people! - did you notice how i blended eddie and lacy’s povs in the van? i’m going to continue doing that in moments where they’re on a similar ~wavelength~ - jimi hendrix did unfortunately die of asphixiation, but instead of thinking about that, watch this sick video of him playing guitar that eddie definitely has committed to memory - RONNIE ECKER KLAXON. i know that in flight of icarus she’s described as tall, but that hasn’t stopped me fancasting her as ayo edebiri in an eddie munson wig - at this point, you might be thinking damn, everyone sure seems to hate each other in this story. like, why is nancy wheeler catching strays? i’m here to remind you it’s the 1980s and teenagers kind of suck. play the track - thanks again for all the love! you can keep this crazy train going by liking, commenting, reblogging and generally showing me the same kindness you’ve shown me so far. love u my little hellcats

#published by powder #in progress #hellfire & ice #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #e. munson by powder

[hoejosatoru]

Best Birthday Gift

Parining: Fem! reader x college au! Hinata, Ft. Bokuto

Summary: Hinata has a huge crush on you. He wants you bad. There are just 2 problems: you were dating his best friend, Bokuto, and he was virgin. However, when Bokuto has a little surprise for Hinata’s birthday.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Virginity loss (hinata), Hinata has a few pervy thoughts I guess?, pussy job, cum eating, use of good boy, voyeurism kinda, subby Hinata, not proof read. MDNI 

Hinata’s pulse quickened as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to quell the flutters in his stomach. No, he was not on the court for a game. He was at his birthday party, sweating over the little sundress you showed up in. He replayed you hugging him when you showed up, your boobs squishing against...

Stop it, he thought trying to shake the thought out of his head. He couldn’t think about you like that. Not because he thought you were out of his league, which he totally did, but because you were his best friend’s girl friend. Hinata was currently watching you hold on to Boktuo’s arm, looking at him with a suggestive spark in your eyes. He hoped that seeing you with him would shut the thoughts up, but all that was playing in his mind was how badly he wanted you to at him like that. 

He ran a hand through his tangerine hair, cursing himself. He felt guilty for thinking about his friend’s girlfriend like that. And that was one of his more innocent thoughts. He knew it was was wrong, knew that you were totally off limits. No matter how big his crush on you was, he would never, ever do something to get between you and Bokuto. He care about you both too much. Still, that wasn’t enough to get him to stop thinking about how your lips would feel pressed on his nec- okay he really has to stop watching you two.

“Christ, Shoyo, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Hinata startled, not realizing Sakusa had appeared beside him. He was eerily quiet like that. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Hinata grumbled, a little too quickly, tearing his eyes away from you. Sakusa followed where Hinata’s gaze had been, landing on you and Bokuto. He was the most observant and intelligent of Hinata’s college friends, easily putting two and two together.

“Are you jealous?” Sakusa teased, jabbing Hinata’s shoulder.

“I am not jealous,” Hinata responded in a way that Sakusa knew meant he was, in fact, very jealous.

“Oh, Hinata,” Sakusa snickered, taking a sip of his drink. “I always knew you were an idiot, but this is something else.”

“Shut up.” Hinata snatched the drink out of Sakusa’s hand, gulped down a few burning sips, then shoved it back to him. He knew it was freak the germaphobe out. “You’re taste in alcohol sucks.” With that, Hinata stormed off, pouting. 

Some birthday this is, he grumbled to himself. Hinata slid back into he house he shared with his teammates, Sakusa, Bokuto, and Atsumu, shutting the party outside. He flopped down on the couch, downing a drink in the quiet hoping it would ease his frustration. He wasn't sure exactly how long he was sitting there when you appeared in front of him.

“What’re you doing inside, Sho?” Sho. He loved the little nickname you gave him, how sweetly you said it. 

Hinata shrugged, trying to remain calm as you say next to him. “Sakusa was just being a dick.”

“Ugh, he’s always in a shit mood,” you replied. Your thigh was pressed against him, which absolutely did not go unnoticed by Hinata. He felt his face heat up as he shifted nervously, hoping you didn’t notice. “What can I do to make you feel better?” Your words slurred ever so slightly. You were not drink, but definitely buzzed. You were looking at Hinata with big, sweet doe eyes, which made his pants feel tight. The way you were leaning into him made the top of your dress hang lower, giving him an extra peek at your boobs. Fuck, he thought.

“N-nothing, I’m okay.” He wasn’t sure if he sounded as nervous as he felt, or if it just seemed like he was drunk. He was definitely feeling quite tipsy after downing that last drink and prayed you thought it was the latter.

“Oh come on, Sho,” you pressed, placing a hand on his thigh. It was a simple, innocent gesture. You probably hadn’t thought twice about it. But Hinata could feel himself getting hard. “There’s gotta be something I could do.”

Of course, Hinata had a long list of things you could do. Or he could do to you, if he knew how. However, even if you weren’t dating Bokuto, he didn’t think he could ever get himself to say it. See, Hinata’s other issue was that he was a virgin. He knew it shouldn’t matter and that it was totally normal, but all his friends weren’t. Atsumu in particular loved reminding him of that fact. He discussed his numerous hook ups in such detail that Hinata thought he could probably use it as a how-to guide. 

Hinata knew if he really wanted to, he could probably find a girl to hook up with and just get it over with. However, he knew he was not into random hook ups. He wanted to do it with someone he knew and trusted. He’d tried to develop relationships with other girls, but he would just compare them to you and it just never worked out. Thus, he remained a virgin.

“I-I think I just need to lay down.” Hinata tried to stand up, but between his nerves and his buzz, he flopped back down on the couch, making you giggle.

“C’mere,” you pulled his head onto your lap. His heart was pounding and he knew he shouldn’t indulge in this, but your thighs were so soft he couldn’t tear himself away. He tried to not think about how close he was to a... um, certain body part of your and just closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair. Yeah, he definitely couldn't complain about this. “I think you drank too much.”

A laugh escaped Hinata’s lips, mostly out of relief. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” You were smiling sweetly down at him. Your lips looked so soft and he found himself wondering how they’d feel on his.

“Trying to make moves on my girl?” a familiar voice asked. Hinata shot up so quick, his head was spinning.

“No Bokuto I was ju-” The larger man cut him off with a laugh.

“I was just teasing you, Hinata.” There was a look shared between him and you that Hinata couldn’t quite decipher. “You seem pretty drunk, bud.” 

Hinata’s head was still spinning. Maybe he was a lot drunker than he thought. “I may have over done it.”

Bokuto laughed again. “Shame, we’ll have to give you your gift tomorrow.”

***

Tomorrow came and Hinata found himself in the passenger seat of Bokuto’s car. “So why do we have to go to y/n’s place for the gift?” He’s been to your apartment a few times and didn’t mind going. He liked that it how it smelled like you. However, he was a little nervous to see you again after yesterday’s close call.

Bokuto put the car in park outside your building, a strange smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 

Hinata followed Bokuto up to your apartment. You weren’t in the living room to greet them, which Hinata found strange. When he walked into your bedroom, he saw you, laying on your bed in a black lacy babydoll lingerie top and silky shorts. Hinata gasped his hands flying up to his eyes.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Hinata was mortified that he walked in on you dressed like that, clearly not expecting him. He was thoroughly confused when you both busted out laughing. 

“Hinata you don’t have to cover your eyes,” Bokuto said. Hinata didn’t budge, even though he really wanted to get another look at you.

“Is this some sorta test?”

“Really, it’s okay Hinata.” It was your voice that convinced him. He slowly lowered his hands, drinking in the sight of you. He had seen you in a more revealing bikini once at the beach, yet this was so much more arousing to him. He was thoroughly confused as to why you nor Bokuto were not upset, as well as nervous that they would see how much he was enjoying it.

“This is your gift,” Bokuto explained, gesturing to you.

Hinata’s eyes flickered between him and you. “I-I don't undersand.”

“I know you like y/n.”

Hinata’s eyes widened, his heart stuttered. “Did Sakusa tell you? I didn’t mean to-”

Bokuto laughed again, cutting him off. “He didn’t have to tell me. You weren’t exactly good at hiding it.” Hinata’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “But I get it. Look at her, she’s fucking hot.” Hinata took the excuse to look at you again. Yeah, you very fucking hot. “And I know you’ve been wanting to lose your virginity.”

“And there is nothing wrong with being a virgin,” you interjected, trying to soothe his embarrassment. “I was virgin, too, until I met Bokuto.” It did make Hinata feel better, since you didn’t meet Bokuto until college. Still, he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy he felt thinking of the two of you being intimate like that.

“Right, of course,” Bokuto nodded, “But if you wanted to lose your virginity, I figured we could get it out of your system like this.”

The shocked look on Hinata’s face made you giggle. “Come here.” You patted the spot next to you on the bed. Hinata’s body could not resist following your instructions. Somehow you looked even better up close. You cupped his flushed cheeks, thinking it was sweet how nervous he got around you. “Do you want to have sex with me Shoyo?”

Hinata nearly laughed at how absurd that question was. “I- yes I do, I just... I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” As much as he wanted you, he would feel icky and wrong if you were just doing it out of obligation for feeling bad for him.

“No, I want to Sho.” Your finger trailed down his torso, pausing at his waistband. Youur eyes flicked back up to his. “I think you’re really cute.” Hinata could have died in that moment and he would go out a happy man. 

“And you’re okay with this?” he turned to Bokuto again for confirmation.

Bokuto nodded. “We talked about it a lot and we trust you. I don’t have to stay for it if you don’t want, but I can if that would make you feel better.”

Hinata thought it over. Maybe it was weird, but he would feel better with Bokuto being there. Just in case he changed his mind, he could stop them. Hinata would feel better knowing there would be no lines crossed. “You can stay.” Bokuto nodded and took a seat in the chair across the room. 

“You won’t even know I’m here.” 

He felt your fingers on his jaw, turning his face back to you. “Can I kiss you?” Hinata nodded, not trusting his voice. His eye shut as you leaned in and next thing he knew he was kissing you. Your lips were even softer than he imagined. You kissed him soft and gently at first, letting him relax into you. You crawled into his lap, feeling his body stiffen. “Relax, Sho,” you breathed into his ear. 

Bokuto’s soft chuckle didn’t even register to Hinata. He was too preoccupied with he feeling of your body on top of his, the taste of your lips. You slid your hand over his, guiding them up to your boob. “Fuck,” he gasped, getting your boobs a squeeze through the lacy fabric. 

“You can touch me wherever you like,” you murmured into his neck. Hinata gave your boobs a few more squeezes, before letting his hands explore the rest of you. He was too nervous to touch you there yet, but he was loving the feel of your curves. You could already feel him hardening against your thigh.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, tossing it to the side. “So strong,” you noted, kissing down his chest, abs, waistband. Hinata’s stomach hitched as you looked up at him. You didn’t touch him below the waist, not yet at least. Instead, you kissed back up his body. You paused before reaching his lips, sitting back and pulling your top off.

Hinata’s dick twitched in his pants seeing you topless. “Wow,” was all he could manage. You giggled lightly. He really was the sweetest. Hinata didn’t need your to guide his hands this time; he happily played with your tits as you kissed him again. You gave an experiment rock of your hips, pulling a gasp from his lips. Smirking, you continued to grind against him, loving how he whined with every drag of your hips. “I-I’m gonna cum in my - fuck - p-pants if you keep doing that,” he stammered. 

This time both you and Bokuto laughed, sweet and lightheartedly. “Let’s get them off you then, yeah?” Hinata bit his lip nervously but nodded. You slid his shorts and boxers down in one go. His dick was flushed and leaking at the tip, looking achingly hard. He was larger than you thought, and not just for his size. “Mmm, so big Sho.” You stroked him up and down. 

Hinata was on cloud nine even as his pulse drummed in is ears. As you touched him, he couldn’t believe this wasn’t some sort of a dream. He was about to pinch himself when you asked if he wanted to take your bottoms off and then he decided if he was asleep he did not want to wake up right now.

Hinata’s hands were shaking slightly as he slid the shorts down your legs, revealing you fully to him. He let out a groan seeing you naked for the first time; it was better than he ever imagined and, yes, he had imagined it. You could feel his cock throb in your hand as he took in the sight of you. You took his hand and brought it between your thighs. “Feel how wet you made me.”

Hinata couldn’t believe how good it felt. He ran his fingers through your lips, getting comfortable with touching you. His head was spinning at the thought of being inside you.

“You seem a little nervous, Sho,” you pushed hair off his forehead. You knew he was trying to put on a brave face, but he looked a little like a deer in headlights, albeit a happy deer. “Why don’t we start a little slower?”

Hinata nodded, willing to follow whatever you wanted to do, but slow did sound pretty good. You let his cock lay flat against his lower torso, carefully lowering yourself down on him. The second your warm, wet pussy made contact with him a low groan escaped his lips. You rolled your hips slowly, letting him enjoy the new sensation. He already felt himself struggling to stay composed with you just sliding your pussy over his cock he couldn’t imagine how he would survive being inside you.

You placed your hands on Hinata’s strong chest to help you increase your pace. Hinata’s fingers dug into your hips, little curses escaping his lips. Each time your clit nudged against the head of his cock, waves of pleasure went through you. It felt so you good you forget yourself a bit, moving your hips even faster as you chased your high.

Hinata’s breath was ragged. “Shit I’m gonna- fuck!” His head fell back as he orgasmed, his cum spilling over his tummy. Once he came down from his high, his face and chest flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry I-I didn’t mean to cum so fa-”

You licked a stripe up his stomach, effectively shutting him up. You swallowed the release you collected on your tongue. “No need to apologize. You’re being such a good boy for me,” you purred. Hinata had a full body reaction to you calling him a good boy. You could feel him getting hard again as you lapped up his release. “Look at you already hard again for me. So hot, Sho.” Any embarrassment Hinata felt had dissipated, but still he wanted to prove himself.

“Can... can I be on top for it?” he asked.

You smiled. “You wanna fuck me?” Hinata blushed and nodded. Of course Hinata would not just lay there, it wasn’t in his nature even when he was nervous. He was always going to try pushing his limits. You traded places with him, feeling the weight of him on top of you. He wasn’t as heavy as Bokuto, obviously, but he was still nice and solid. 

“Hi,” Hinata said looking down at you, a nervous smile on his lips.

You giggled, “Hi Sho.”

“Do I need a condom or something?” You nodded to your bedside table, where he picked up the little metallic packet. He ripped it open, though struggled to get it on himself.

“Lemme.” You took him in your hand, slowly rolling the rubber down his length.

Hinata smiled shyly. “Thanks.” He lined himself up to you, feeling the heat of your pussy against the tip of his cock. He knew nothing was going to change really once he pushed into you, but still he nervous. He took one last deep breath before pushing inside you. “Oh fuck.”

Even after feeling your pussy on his fingers and on top of him, he couldn’t believe how wet and warm you were. How tight you were. He’s never felt anything like it in his life. The way your pussy squeezed him made his breath hitch. He rocked his hips slowly, wanting to adjust without accidentally humming too fast again. He was very afraid of that happening; he could already feel his balls getting heavy, aching for release.

“You feel so good, Sho,” you moaned. And you meant it, you weren’t just trying to make him feel good. He was a nice size, giving you a little stretch. His ass and thighs were strong from years of playing volleyball, making each thrust have weight to it. He loved the way you sounded moaning his name; he was motived to hear more sweet sounds from you.

“She likes when you play with her clit,” Bokuto offered. Hinata almost forgot his friend was there he was so tossed in you. He nodded and followed Bokuto’s instruction. He pressed his fingers to your clit, rubbing circles over it.

“Fuck, Shoyo, just like that,” you gasped. It took everything in him to not bust. He moved faster knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. Bokuto was loving watching you get worked up. It was hotter to see you get fucked by his friend than he thought it was going to be. He shifted in his seat as his pants started feeling tighter.

Suddenly you gasped and moaned his name. Your pussy squeezed him impossibly tighter as you came around him. Hinata couldn’t hold himself together anymore. He moaned you name as he came for the second time. He slowed his hips, milking every last bit of his orgasm. It was easily the best he ever had. He knew having sex would be different from jerking off, but he couldn't believe just how much better it felt to cum with someone.

“You’ve officially ruining jerking off for me,” Hinata said breathlessly. Both you and Boktuo laughed.

“You were so good, Sho,” you told him, “You made a girl cum your first time. Not many guys can do that.” Hinata was beaming; he could hear you talk about how good he was all day.

“So, pretty good birthday present, huh?” Bokuto teased.

Hinata nodded, “The best.”

“Y/n had so much fun with you, might just let you fuck her again.” With that, Hinata was sure that Bokuto was the best friend in the entire world.

#hinata x reader #hinata shoyo smut #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x y/n #bokuto x reader #hinata headcanons #hinata shoyo imagine #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyu headcanons

[multi-fandom-imagine]

May I please request headcanons for Dante reacting to his female S/O sacrificing herself during a fight against a powerful demon so he and everyone else can escape? Happy ending please 😭

A/n: I miss writing for DMC, I need to replay that game again. I do apologize if this sucks.

Did not realize what you were about to do until it was too late, he did not even have a chance to react since Nero was already pulling him away.

He tried to put up a fight, god did he try but he was already to injured, to tired, to weak. He should have been stronger. He should have been able to protect you....but he didn't.

"Get your fucking hand's off of me." Dante did his best to struggle agains't Nero. "I have to go back to her. I'm not going to let her sacrifice herself."

Gritting his teeth, Nero did his best to pull him away, away from you. Away from where you were fighting that demon. He was not about to let your sacrifice he in vein, you did this so they could escape. "Cut the shit...she did this to save us....we need to go."

Hates himself, he should have been stronger, why was he so weak. Feel's worthless, so much doubt fills his mind. Did he really do the right thing? Why did he leave you alone, he should have died with you.

He felt numb, treating his own wounds, he hated that he was safe while you were gone.

It make's him sick how he'll never see your smile again, hear your laugh again. He just wants to hold you in his arms.

"That was a...damn good distraction." A weak laugh escaped your lips. You had a limp in each step you took. You were covered in cuts, scraps, hell the man wasn't even sure how bad your wounds were but you were alive....you were alive!

Your name spilled from his lips as he rushed to you, he ignored Lady and Triss, Nico and Nero. He had yo hold you, he needed to feel you in his arms.

"Fuck, you look good doll." Dante tried to remain strong, tried to remain his flirty self but he couldn't. Seeing you here, feeling you against his chest. He couldn't help but break down.

"I love you." Dante whispered into your neck, tears damping your skin.

Letting your fingers slowly run down his back, you relaxed into his embrace. "I love you too."

#hc #hcs #dante sparda #dmc dante #dante x reader #dante x you #dante x y/n #dante sparda x you #dante sparda x reader #dmc #dmc x reader #dmc x you #dmc x y/n #blurbs #blurb

[icameheretoreadstuff]

Tobi is not here anymore

Pairing: Tobi/Obito x F!Reader Warnings: 18+! MDNI!, NSFW, Smut with feelings, Teasing, Cockwarming, Oral, Sub/Dom, Wet and Messy, Bondage, multiple orgasm, youre very bendy, friends to Lovers, unprotected sex. Summary: How much do you have to tease Tobi before Obito comes out to play, or fuck you dumb on his cock? A/N: masterpost & links are pinned on my tumblr.

Tobi was sitting on the couch when you walked into the room, you closed the door and locked it as you had a smug look on your face. "Y/n-senpai! what are you up to?" he sang "want to try to scare Deidara again?" you chuckled as you shaked your head. "You know, I'm more in the mood to something else, I mean you should now" you smirked as you walked over to him. He smirked behind the mask as he thought to himself finally he sent you begging for his dick, he loved teasing you and it had become this twisted fun game of his.

He knew you wanted him bad, you weren't exactly good at hiding it as you thought you were. "Why don't you open up your coat" you said as you opened yours and revealed black pants and a tight black sweater hugging your breast. He bit his lip behind the mask as he saw your curves, your breasts and everything he had been dreaming of.

"y/n-senpai, youre being naughty~" you smiled at his answer as you dropped your coat to the floor "I know you saw me just a couple of minutes ago" you said, and he crossed his arms and his head leaned to the side "what did y/n-senpai see?" he asked you suprised and giggled behind his hand "pleasuring myself" you said and he dropped his hand as you leaned over to him and grabbed his coat with one hand "I didn't get to finish and it's your fault for teasing me so fucking bad, so I can't help but wanting to return the favor" you grabbed the zipper to open his coat when he instantly grabbed your hand and stopped you.

You couldn't see the smirk behind his mask or the hard dick he was hiding, throbbing and begging for your mouth. "Are you gonna be a good boy and behave?" you purred. He couldn't help himself, the image of you touching yourself was burned into his brain, going on replay. He was actually about to jerk off thinking about you before you came in here. You could hear him swallow as his chest began to heave "maybe~" he teased.

He had been teasing you for days now, you were sexually frustrated to say the least and then you caught him peeking when you tried to relief yourself. Your legs were spread and you were moaning his name as he was sitting outside the window behind a tree peeking, he caught you off guard so you had to stop. He disappeared and you got pissed to say the least. And here you are now, infront of him and it felt like he's still trying to mess with your head.

You smirked "Now it's my turn to tease you" you said as you tried to open up his coat "let go of my hand" you said calmly "now" you spat, warning him. "ok~" he said chipper. You smirked as he let go of your hand and you opened his coat. Your mouth fell open as you saw what he was hiding underneath, litterally leaving nothing to your imagination.

His pants was hugging his large fat dick. He smiled behind the mask as he was loving every moment of seeing your reactions. You let out a silent moan as you licked your dry lips.

He silently cursed as he wanted to taste your lips so bad, he wanted to taste your toungue and his dick was throbbing for attention.

"Damn tobi" you smirked as you leaned back and took off your pants, reavling your bare clit. He melted at the sight of your clit and instantly he lifted his hips as he flipped out his cock, making sure to hide his scars. "Good boy" you smiled as you sat down to your knees.

He stared at you mouth as you slowly looked up at him, leaned forward and stuck out your tounge and tasted his sweet precum while keeping eyecontact. He loved that you were circling your toungue around his tip while keeping eyecontact. You felt his precum was like a candy you couldn't get enough off, It tastes so sweet.

You eagerly licked up every drop like it was worth millions and He leaned his head back into the couch. You inhaled his length like you were starving, humming as you made his dick wet from your drool.

He hummed at your mouth hugging his dick, bobbing your head. He melted as he enjoyed the sight of you finally sucking his dick. You pushed your mouth deeper until you felt his balls under your chin "This is teasing?" he struggled badly to say, sending sparks throughout your body. You took his throbbing cock out of your mouth. He looked down at you closely, curious about what you had planned next.

"no" you said and straddled him. You grabbed both his hands and tied them up behind his head fast. "I'm just getting started" you placed his dick into your folds. The instant touch sent him flying, he stared at your lips as he tried not to even breathe funny. He let out a sigh as your clit felt too good.

You moved his dick twoards your entrance as he tried to push up his hips. You held his cock tight "I'm in charge" you said as he tried his hardest not to make a sound "I decide when you can fuck me" you smirked "So be a good boy and listen to me" he chuckled in a low deep voice which sent a surge deep inside you.

You noticed something in him change for a moment, but he went back instantly back to Tobi, "I like your sweet pussy" he said cheerfully as Tobi. You wanted him badly but also you wanted him to open up to you. You smirked as you thought you just have to tease him enough to talk in his real voice, you just wanted to fuck him raw and real, and if he was hiding something youre just gonna have to tease it out of him.

You placed his cock back to your entrance and slowly sat down on his cock, trying to adjust to his length. He couldn’t help but to let out silent deep groans through his mask which made you even more motivated on teasing him.

You moaned as you slowly felt his dick fill you up "Fuck youre big" you huffed as you leaned flushed into his chest as you kissed his neck. His dick was leaving no room to spare at all, hugging your tight walls perfectly. "you wanna know what I was thinking about?" you began as you grabbed his hands and pushed them towards the wall.

He loved seeing you take control like this, letting you think you have the upper hand was so amusing to him.

"Before you rudely interrupted me, instead of joining me" you said and tightened your core as he felt his dick being squeezed inside you, causing him to try his best to not let out any more deep groans but he couldn't help himself as he let out a deep moan.

He knew you had already noticed something was up, your tight walls were making it pretty hard for him to keep up. And the fact you weren't moving were just driving him more horny for you.

"I thought about your hands all over my body" you let your free hand wander, touching his muscles "I thought about riding you like this" you moaned as you moved your hips slowly thrusting him once. He couldn't help himself as he let out a deep groan.

You pinned his hands hard to the wall, he chuckled in a deep voice and let out a groan, which sent shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes hard shut as you wanted to touch your clit so bad, but you knew if you did you would climax way too soon. "I thought about your dick deep inside me like this" you whispered into his ear.

His precum and your wet clit was already soaking up his pants. You thrusted slowly up and then down as you grinded onto his pelvis and you could hear the wet noises, which was driving him insane. You stopped thrusting, He leaned his head back and let out a deep moan.

His entire chakra changed yet again, like an off switch you were teasing, on and off. His dark voice ecchoed inside your head. You wanted more, the thought of hearing his dark voice would burn into your memory forever, you knew you would be touching yourself while hearing his deep moans on replay inside your head. But it wasn't enough, You wanted more. No, you craved more.

You tightned your core and thrusted slowly up and then you thrusted hard down once more before you stopped. At this point he didn't care anymore, he switched off Tobi. You couldn't see his face, but it didnt matter. He wasn't Tobi anymore, He was definitely gone.

"Do you know how much I wanna fuck you right now?" he said with his normal voice, You moaned at his words and slowly began to thrust down before you managed to stop and tired your best to not thrust onto him again as you tried to breathe calmly.

He wanted to rip up the knot and just grab your ass and fuck you until you got speechless: litterally dumb on his fat cock. His dick was throbbing and begging for more speed, you were going too fucking slow and were definitely teasing him real bad.

"Your voice is so fucking sexy" you leaned twoards his clothed neck and kissed him onto his neck, you leaned up "I wonder how good your lips taste" you hummed into his ear.

He cursed under his breath as he smirked, he wanted to fuck you right the fuck now and he wanted to taste your sweet lips, he wanted you to moan into his mouth so he could taste your moans.

"You know at some point" he said with his delicious deep voice "I'm going to rip up this knot and fuck you stupid, right?" you couldn't help yourself as his voice was such a turn on as you automatically began to thrusted onto his dick "yeah?" you moaned "I'm not repeating myself and I'm not your fucktoy" you huffed as you began to thrust faster, feeling more turned on more and more the more he talked. he began to huff as he smirked behind his mask "If anything, youre fucking mine." you started to loose it as you thrusted down hard, shaking your ass down onto his cock.

He could see your breast jumping up and down with each thrust "you want me to fuck you real good and fast?" he cooes "show you how to properly fuck someone?" he hissed, you were struggling and could feel your control over him slip away "tobi" you moaned as you felt you were close "Fuck me" you moaned.

He looked behind him and saw it was dark outside "enough" he said seriously and ripped open the knot "it's your turn being tied up" he smirked and grabbed both of your hands and tied them behind your back before you could say or do anything "you're my fucktoy"

He grabbed a glass that was standing in the window and threw it across the room turning off the lights. "Fuck Tobi" you winced. It felt like he had you wrapped around his finger. He took off his coat, and his tight sweatshirt and then he took off his mask. You couldn't see his face but you were too fucked out to care anyway.

He finally crashed his lips into yours, he was hungry and starving as he could taste your sweet tounge. You melted into his kisses as you couldn't help but to want more- He moaned as he grabbed your waist and pulled you flushed into him, then he gripped your waist and thrusted you down onto his cock. You moaned into his lips as his hips were clapping hard up into you.

Your moans and your rough make out session sent you over the edge, you felt a surge throughout your body as your breath became short but deep, rapidly. "Cum on my dick, let me taste your moans" he hummed "yes, just like that" he cooes as you climaxed "good girl" he cooes as he smirked and spanked your ass hard.

You ripped open your hands and wrapped your hands around his neck as you let your fingers grip tightly onto his hair, leaning his head into the couch. "mfh" he moaned as you continued to make out with him. You stood still as he wrapped his hands around your waist hard, while making out with him as he continued to slam up into you while moaning into your lips as he climaxed deep inside you.

He panted as he smirked at you, you could see the moonlight hitting his smirk. He noticed this and looked into your eyes unsure of how you would react.

You couldn't care less as you leaned down and kissed him. He hummed as your sweet kisses and it began to grow into another makeout session, he moaned as his hips began to thrust slowly into you once more.

His cum was dripping out of you as he thrusted up into you. You leaned back and threw off your top, he groaned as he leaned forward and kissed your nipple, sucked it and moved over to the other one.

He licked and sucked as he grabbed the other one with one hand as he thrusted into you. You cupped his face and kissed him as you both went eagerly back to making out. The wet noises coming from where you both are connected sent you over the edge as you moaned "Fuck me harder" you huffed "please."

He lifted you up, holding your thighs and laid you down onto the bed nearby. He threw off the rest of his clothes as he crawled over you. He slipped His hard cock into you and rolled his hips as he kissed your neck, "please, fuck-" before you could finish your sentence his hips snapped and he thrusted slammed hard into you.

He let out moans and groans as he fucked you so hard you felt unable to form sentence, "fuck babe~" he moaned which sent you over to the edge as you climaxed once more, your sweet release was like an addiction to him, he couldn't get enough.

He slowed down "you're done allready?" you teased, He chuckled and put your legs up on his shoulders as he slipped his hard cock inside you and he leaned forward pinning you down and kissed you "I'm not nearly done" he hummed in his deep voice, his cock pushed deep inside you as his pelvis was now grinding onto your pelvis.

He let out a groan as he grabbed your thighs and pushed them deeper down until your knees hit the matress. He began to thrust hard into you with no warning, clapping his hips hard into you, You grabbed his muscled arms as you felt you were close "I~" you managed to say before you climaxed.

He groaned as he slowed down and pushed his dick deeper. You gasped silently as he thrusted his dick hard into you. The clapping sounds turned faster, his balls were now spanking you. He moaned as the wet sounds, his hips clapping into you and rough needy kisses sent him over the edge as he climaxed for the second time into you.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you while huffing "Do you have anything I can clean myself up with?" you asked him as you were holding onto your pussy for not spilling any more than you already have.

He raised out of the bed, walked around and grabbed you in bridal style as he walked twoards a door. It was dark, so you couldn't quite see him but then he opened a door, the bathroom was still lit.

He let you down and you didn't turn to look at him. You instantly turned the light off as the moonlight was hitting the floor. you could sense he was standing right behind you. You walked over to the shower and turned it on "join me?" you said in a calm tone.

You could feel your heart beat as he walked across the moonlight twoards you. Your eyes were locked as he stood there in the moonlight for a moment, you let out your hand and waved him over "come here already" you said and he walked over to you, you cupped his face and stood under the warm water hitting your body as you kissed him deeply.

"why" he asked in his deep voice "I don't care, I like you" you said honestly and looked up at him. He looked down into your eyes seriously as he leaned down and wrapped you into his arms and kissed you while sighing happily.

#obito smut #obito uchiha smut #obito uchiha #obito x reader #obito x you #naruto fanfic #naruto smut #english is not my first language #english is not my native language #naruto #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #narutoverse #obito headcanons #naruto obito #obito fanfiction #obito x y/n #obito thirst #naruto imagines #naruto oneshot #obito imagines #uchiha obito #uchiha smut #uchiha x reader #uchiha clan

[sunsetkerr]

sam gets really hurt during a game of the matildas against england and millie and caitlin find u in the crowd and pull u onto the pitch because sam cant get up and u comfort her

im thinking ACL like maren in that chelsea bristol game like that serious

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nLTTFwIljY

I've got you | sam kerr

you hear her scream before you realise what's happened. suddenly you were up on your feet with the rest of the stadium, watching on as sam screamed on the floor in pain. you had never heard her sound like that before, you had never heard anyone sound like they were in so much pain.

your heart was beating so fast in your chest, you weren't sure that it was going to hold up for much longer. you clutched your t-shirt in your fists as you kept your gaze on sam. guro, millie and fran were surrounding her, Lauren making her way over too. you could hear a pin-drop at stamford bridge, everyone watching on as their star striker laid on the pitch in pain.

you weren't sure if she had stopped screaming, or if it was just replaying in your mind as you helplessly watched your love on the ground. the medical team were now on the pitch, moving the girls away from sam.

she still had her head on the ground, her fist punching the turf as she worked through the white hot pain coursing through her leg. she hadn't felt pain this bad since she did her knee in 2014, she knew it was going to be a shit outcome.

you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes as you watched her, knowing there was nothing you could do to help her.

they eventually got sam onto the stretcher, and took her off of the pitch. the crowd clapped her exit, you just watched as she made her way down the tunnel, tears staining her skin as she held her arm over her head.

you heard someone call out to you. when you looked down, you saw millie and emma gesturing you over to the railing. "c'mere" millie said as she reached out for you. you turned around and leant over, allowing millie to pull you down onto the pitch; having done it so many times with sam you were practically an expert.

you thanked her and emma before rushing down the tunnel, going to find your girl.

a trainer recognises you and points you in the direction of the medical room. you wait outside, not wanting to interrupt their work. eventually, someone comes out of the room with a phone in their hand.

"y/n" it's James, a physio who works with sam regularly, and you've never been more thankful to see a friendly face.

"what's happened?" you're scared to hear the answer, but when he utters the letters ACL you feel like crying again. "I need to see her," you whisper.

"yeah," he nods, "I'm gonna get an ambulance down for her, get her in asap".

"thanks," you nod before heading into the medical room. "hey superstar," you smile. sam's heart can suddenly beat again after hearing your voice, but as soon as she meets your eyes, she breaks down into tears again.

"oh sammy" you come stand in front of the bed and hold her close to your chest, letting a few tears roll down your face. "I've gotcha" you smile, trying to hold yourself together for her.

"I've fucked it," she whispered. "I really fucked it" she sobbed.

"it's gonna be okay," you squeeze her just that little bit tighter, before planting a kiss on her head. you lean your cheek against her as you whisper to her again, "I've got you".

and no matter how shit it was, she knew that you did.

#blurb night one • . * . #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagine #sam kerr one shot #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso x reader #blurb . * • .

[justmeinadaze]

I Miss the Misery Part 2 (Steve X You)

Part One Here

Warnings: Toxic Daddy Stevie (but he wants to be better)/ Slightly Toxic Fem sub reader, SMUT, dirty talk, rough play, daddy kink (cause im me), choking, spanking, degrading, Slight Fluff, she loves him and he loves her but they both struggle with their feelings, ANGST, Jealous Steve AND Reader, Steve gets drunk after a bad experience with his father (he talks about it; elaborated), They both try to verbally hurt each so they say mean things to each other ( they call each other names, bring up past behavior, etc.) , cliff hanger ending!

Word Count: 7058

It had been a couple of weeks since your incident with your ex Steve Harrington. When you came home that night your boyfriend was still up waiting for you. You talked things through like any normal couple would and that night you both went to bed happy. Well, he did. You laid there for hours replaying the nights events in your head. 

You could still feel Steve’s hands on your hips where he clung to you as he thrust his big, thick cock into you roughly till your eyes rolled back. You could still hear his grunts and pants warming your ear as his sweaty body fell on top of yours. 

But more than anything, you kept going back to the conversation after. 

“Yeah, well, if we’re toxic then I’d rather go down with you than anyone else.”

“I just kept wishing they were you.”

“I feel like we can make this work.”

You had always believed the two of you could make your relationship work but the problem always was that he could never commit to it. He had you for two years in high school and he, quite literally, let you slip away. It wasn’t fair to you for him to think he could just show up one day and you’d drop everything to be with him especially when you knew it would end badly. 

A strong hand reached out from the darkness of an open door and yanked you into the room before slamming it shut. 

“What’s this I’m hearing about you going on a date with Ben Lomax?”, Steve asked sternly as he glared down at you. 

“Well, hello to you to, Harrington. I hope you had a good weekend.”

“Don’t play with me, Y/N.”

“What do you care? We’re not dating right? I can go out with whoever I want to.”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you watch his jealously rise. You liked amping him up like this so he’d take what’s his. 

“You’re mine, little girl.”

“Then claim me, Daddy. Make me yours.”

It felt so good having him take control the way he did even though you knew it wasn’t healthy. No… you couldn’t allow him to win this time. This time you needed to do what was right for you and Jacob. Rolling over onto your side, you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his back, clinging to normality tightly as you finally drifted off to sleep. 

***

“Hey, baby.”, your boyfriend grinned as you sat beside him at his desk and he handed you some items in a grocery bag. “Thank you for coming by. You know how my mom is. I’d give her back these things myself but this project…”

“I know, honey. You’ve been working really hard.”, you reply encouragingly as you softly smile. 

The smell of his cologne hit you before the sound of his voice. Glancing down the hallway, you watched as Steve argued with someone over the phone as he sauntered confidently towards you both. Your body and attitude prepared for the battle that was sure to come but to your surprise he walked right past you as if you weren’t there. After angrily hanging up his phone, his face changed to a much softer demeanor as he grinned, opening his arms wide as a blond young lady eagerly jumped into them. 

“That’s Mr. Harrington’s new girlfriend I hear.”, Jacob whispers. “She’s a lot younger than him but I guess that’s expected when you have all the money in the world.”

You hadn’t heard a word he said, the fury bubbling in your stomach up to your chest. 

“I can play this game better.”

Fucking asshole. He wants to pretend I’m not here and try to make me jealous, go ahead! I’m not the same girl I was in high school. This won’t work. 

“Baby? Are you ok?”

“Hm? Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine, just tired.”

“I understand. Hey, tonight we’re meeting at the bar downtown. It’s just going to be the team here. Would you want to go?”

Shifting you gaze their way again, you watched as Steve beamed down at the girl before tenderly kissing her lips. 

“Yeah, I think that sounds fun.”

########

“So Y/N, how is the new book coming along?”, Jacob’s coworker asked as you took a sip from the alcohol in your glass. 

“Good, thank you. I’m having some writers block but it’s not a big deal. Not as big a deal as what you guys have been working on.”

“Yeah, thankfully we’re almost near the end.”, another girl at the table sighs. “Mr. Harrington has really helped us out. He’s been buying us lunch for the office every day.”

“And letting us leave early on Fridays so we can have a bit of a break. He stays in the office to make up the time.”

You couldn’t help but smile at their praise. Steve had always been a complete asshole but even during your relationship with him you saw the compassion and kindness that hid under the snark.

“Y/N? Honey, are you alright?”, he cooed as he sat on the bench beside you. His long fingers tenderly reached out to dry the tears that were still falling down your cheeks. 

“I’m fine, Steve. You don’t have to…”, you tried to dismiss him as you waved your hand. 

“I know I don’t have to. You know me. You know I don’t do anything I don’t want to.” Steve firmly grabbed your wrists and turned your body to face him a bit more. “Now, what’s going on, babe?”

“My, uh, my grandfather died.”

At your revelation, you began to cry harder and he collected you in his arms, pressing your head to his chest. 

“Shit, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I know you two were really close. Everything’s ok, pretty girl. I’m right here.”

“Speak of the devil…Mr. Harrington! Hey! Why don’t you come sit with us?!”, one of Jacob’s friends shouted bringing you back to reality. 

Steve Harrington was the devil indeed with how delicious he looked dressed in his jeans and black button up shirt. His signature smile blinded the table as he grabbed his dates arm and headed towards you. 

“Hey guys. You don’t have to invite me. I’m sure you’re tired of dealing me for 40+ hours a week already.”

“Oh, come on. Join us. It’s no problem at all.”

The sound of your glass slamming into the table startled everyone including Steve as he finally gave you his attention. 

“Yeah, Steven. Not a problem at all. Take a seat.”

His head ticked to the side in amusement before taking a seat and pulling his date onto his lap making you cringe in annoyance. 

“Y/N apparently went to school with Mr. Harrington here.”, Jacob explained to his coworkers who were still fairly wide eyed at the way you addressed him. 

“That’s pretty cool. You two were friends?”

“Nope. Hardly even knew each other. Right, Harrington?”, you sassed. 

Turning away from you, he focused on the original question. 

“I wouldn’t say friends. We definitely knew of each other. Everyone in Hawkins did with it being a small town and all.”

Throughout the rest of the night, you constantly fumed in his direction every time he opened his mouth. His hands constantly roamed his date’s skin driving you insane every time she would lean back and nuzzle her face into his neck. In retaliation you tried to do the same with Jacob but you knew that was a lost cause because he wasn’t very keen on the PDA. 

You drank more and more until the world around you got hazy.

“How long have you two been together?”, someone asked as they gestured towards him and his date. 

“Um, about two weeks I believe.”

“Hm. About how long she’s been in the world.”, you hiccupped as you knocked back a shot on the table. “I mean…look at you, Barbie. You’re basically a fetus.”

“Y/N.”, Jacob whispered. “That was rude.”

“No, no Jacob. It’s ok. I see she hasn’t changed much. Y/N here had kind of a reputation for being bratty at school.”

“And Steve Harrington had a reputation for being a man slut.”

“Alright, I think we’re going to go home. Come on, babe.”, you boyfriend said sternly, gripping your arm. 

“How about you guys come to my house? It’s a lot closer and you can get her to bed so she can sober up.”, Steve replied casually. 

“Oh, Mr. Harrington, we couldn’t impose.”

“I insist. Come on, honey.”, he grins as he slaps the girl’s ass playfully. “It was nice spending time with you guys. Jacob, just follow me.”

***

It took you awhile to catch your bearings when your groggy eyes opened and you realized you weren’t at home. 

“Jacob?”

Glancing beside you, you noticed his peacefully sleeping frame beside you so you left him be as you got up to find a bathroom. Wherever you were it was a very nice place with the updated furnishings and new home smell. 

It took you a moment to find a bathroom but after you did, you shut the door and ran the cool water over you face. 

What happened last night? I remember Steve showing up at the bar…a dizzying car ride…lips on mine…angry eyes. Maybe Jacob was upset for how I behaved. I need to make it up to him. He doesn’t deserve me acting like a drunk fool in front of his friends. 

Sighing, you opened the door to head back to bed but was met with a strong hand around your throat pushing you backwards into the bathroom and closing the door. 

“Are we sober now, little girl? Good because I really want this to sink in.”, Steve growled as his face hovered above yours. “If you ever disrespect me like that again I’ll throw you over my knee and spank you till you can’t handle it. I don’t care where we are or if your fucking boyfriend is in the room. Do I make myself clear?”

“What…what…I don’t remember…”

“You don’t…don’t…remember?”, he mocked. “Well, let me refresh your memory. I told your idiot boyfriend to bring you back to my house so you could rest because you were insulting my girlfriend and embarrassing yourself in front of his coworkers. When we got here, I showed him my spare rooms and left you guys alone. While I was getting ready for bed myself, the door was open and you were on your fucking knees IN MY HOUSE sucking another man’s dick AND CALLING HIM DADDY!”, Steve scolded roughly in your ear through clenched teeth.

Finally gathering your faculties, you pushed at his chest causing him to release you but only long enough to invade your space again as his face hovered just above your own. 

“I’M your Daddy.”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh? Did you also forget that you showed up at my office two weeks ago begging for my cock and calling me Daddy? Or was that some other pathetic little girl?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised with how many women you’ve fucked in your lifetime.”

“Said the whore. Let’s not forget how many guys you were with in Hawkins.”

“I wasn’t with anyone! I went on dates but the only person I ever fucked was you!”

“Yeah right. Do you expect me to believe that? Hell, you cheated on your boyfriend with me!”

“Like it matters if you believe me or not. Technically I was single in school. You couldn’t bother to be seen with me because I was fucking poor. Jesus. You say I’m pathetic but the truth is you are; a pathetic little daddy’s boy. Couldn’t even start or find a company of your own. You had to play sloppy seconds to his business!”

Steve’s palm covered your mouth roughly as he pushed you forcefully against the wall. His breathing became erratic as he heavily panted trying to control his temper. His eyes stared daggers into yours for what felt like forever till something in the air snapped and he replaced his hand with his lips. 

It was a rough kiss fueled by anger and you felt your pussy flutter at the notion. Riled up Steve was always one of your favorite versions of him because he claimed what was his in the best way possible. This is what you wanted. You wanted him to realize that he hated the idea of you not being his and fought to have you by his side. The problem was he did claim you but never truly made you his. 

Your arms pushed at his chest but his grip tightened as he held your wrists to your sides. Moving them to one hand, he utilized his now free palm to smack you before grabbing your cheeks with his fingers. 

“Do you want to stop? Say the word and we’ll stop.”, he growled. “Answer me.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, I don’t want you to stop.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Aggressively, he turned you around and pushed your body against the sink as he moved aside your panties while freeing his cock from his boxers. After spitting into his hand and stroking it along his shaft, you both groaned as he guided himself into you promptly setting a rough pace. 

“Baby?”

Your eyes widen at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door and you see Steve smirk from his reflection in the mirror. 

“Y-Yeah?”

“Are you ok? I woke up and you weren’t there.”

The man inside you slowed his rhythm, dragging his length pleasantly along your tight walls before slamming himself back into your pussy making your eyes roll as your nails dug into the arm he had around your stomach.

“I-I’m okay, Jacob. Ahhh… I’ll be right there, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, you will, baby girl. You’ll—mmm—crawl back in beside him full of my cum like the fucking whore you are.”, Steve whispers, his lips attaching to your neck as your head falls against his shoulder. 

“Okay. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Picking up his pace again, his cock overwhelmed your senses as you tried to control yourself from screaming his name. 

“YES! I’m fine. I’ll be right there!”

“Alright, honey. I love you.”

Steve’s eyes met yours in the mirror, softening slightly when he saw pain flash through them. 

“I love you to.”

He knew you weren’t saying it to your boyfriend but to him, however, Jacob thinking your love was meant for him infuriated Steve as he spanked your ass hard before wrapping both arms around you to hold you still as he slammed his lower half into your own. 

“Who’s your Daddy, little girl?”

“You are, Steve, please.”

“Say it again so I know you fucking understand.”

“You are, Daddy. Please. Let me cum. I’ll—fuck—I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

“No you won’t but that’s ok. I don’t mind putting you in your place.”

As his fingers find their way to your clit, you bite your bottom lip to stifle the loud moan that wants to break free. Placing your arms and hands over his own, you cling to him as your body trembles and you cum hard around him. His rhythm falters and you hear him grunt in your ear before you feel his release spill inside of you. 

Steve pants as his softening cock pulls out of your aching hole and tucks himself back into his boxers as he takes a seat on the edge of the tub. Maybe it was the headspace you were still in or just seeing him look so upset hit that soft spot in your heart but you couldn’t help it when you lowered yourself to your knees and crawled to his side, placing your head on his thigh as you hugged his legs. 

“I’m sorry I called him Daddy.”

His large palm reached out to pet your head making you sigh as you closed your eyes. 

“No, you’re not. Yeah you were drunk but your subconscious definitely wanted to hurt me and that would be the way to do it. It’s not like I didn’t do the same thing by bringing a young, beautiful girl around. I knew she’d piss you off.”

“Why do we have to be this way to each other, Steve?”

“I think the real question, sweetheart, is why do we like it?”

“Why do I like it so much with you?”, you whisper. As your tears begin to fall, he leans down to collect you in his arms and places you on his lap. “I tried, whatever the fuck this is, with other men and every time I got hurt. They were you times 10. Then I met Jacob and—”

“He’s the exact opposite.” 

“And not in a good way.”, you sigh as you caress his face with your palm. “Steve, I didn’t have sex with anyone else when we were in school. The first time I was every with someone who wasn’t you was after I left. I hated it… he was too rough and almost every conversation we had was a fight.” Turning his face towards you, you tenderly kiss his forehead. “I swear, I never called any of them Daddy. They would beg me to but it always felt wrong. Only you ever knew how to take care of me like that. I just wish you could have taken care of me in every other way.”

After softly kissing his lips, you crawled off his lap and headed back to bed to curl up in your boyfriend’s arms that you wished were Steve’s.

##################

Another week went by in uneventful domestic bliss as you continued to be the best girlfriend you could. Today Jacob and his coworkers were celebrating finishing the project they had been working on with a camping trip up north. He had invited you to come along but after what happened you thought it best to stay put. You also weren’t really a fan of sleeping outdoors without AC but you kept that little tidbit to yourself. 

You utilized the alone time to work on your novel and get things done around the house but after a couple of hours, you found yourself extremely bored. Throwing on your jacket and grabbing your keys, you headed to a bar down the way ordering the strongest drink you could think of. 

Once again, the smell caught your attention first before the snarky laugh that followed. 

“Of course. Of course. Of fucking course, YOU of all people would be here.”, Steve giggled drunkenly as he knocked back his beverage and signaled the bartender for a refill. 

He looked completely disheveled, his hair a mess due to his fingers running frustratingly through it. The suit jacket he had worn was hanging on the back of the chair while his white button up shirt was untucked and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. 

“Steve? What happened?”

“Like you care.”

You should have walked away; left him there to wallow by himself but this nagging in your stomach wouldn’t allow you to as your worry for him took control. 

“I do care. Come on, Steve, talk to me.”

Spinning in his seat, he leaned his side obnoxiously over the bar as his glassy eyes met yours. 

“What happened. Hm…Y/N wants to know what the fuck happened. Well, we finished our project at work today. Managed to sign a huge fucking client worth millions! But does that impress my father? Oh, no. Fucker has to fly up here just to berate me and scold me on what we need to do next. This isn’t my first day on the job. I’ve watched that asshole work my entire life and he can’t even let go for one God damn second to see I did something good!”

“You’re right. I remember he was always hard on you. I saw him scream at you once after a game even though the team won and you made the most points. He said you didn’t try hard enough.” He nods at the memory, chugging the content of the glass and again asking for more. You discreetly signaled to the bartender that this was the last one as you focus your attention back on the broken man in front of you. “I hope you know he’s wrong. I know how hard you worked on this.”

“Yup. I know, Y/N. I’m not a fucking idiot. Why are you even here? I’m toxic remember?”

“You are but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to you. Let me take you home.”

“Fuck you. I can fucking take myself home.”, he growls, finishing the last of his beverage. 

“Ok. Can you at least text me and let me know you got home safely?”

After rubbing his shoulder comfortingly, you put on your jacket and pay for your drink but as you turn to leave, a warm palm abruptly grabs your wrist. 

“Y/N, um… C-Can you come home with me? I promise I won’t make a move or anything. I just… don’t want to be alone.”

***

“Oh shit!”, he laughs as he falls through the door after turning the key. 

“Where’s your girlfriend tonight?”, you ask as you guide him towards his bedroom, holding his waist as he stumbles from side to side. 

“Girlfriend? Oh, you mean Barbie?”

“That’s not really her name is it?”

Steve snorts as he chuckles, throwing himself onto the mattress and throwing his arm over his eyes. 

“No…it’s, um, Tiffany. No, Erica…Fuck, I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since you and your idiot spent the night.”

After you flashed him a sassy smirk he didn’t see, you began getting him ready for bed starting with his shoes. You thought he had finally passed out but when you grabbed his arm to take off his watch and class ring from college, his eyes opened, and he tilted his head to watch you. 

“Where can I put these?”, you murmur with a soft smile.

Silently, he gestures towards the bedside table and you reach for the drawer to delicately place them inside. Something catches your eye, however, as you pull out a well, worn picture of the two of you in high school. Steve rarely ever took photos with you back then. Nothing the two of you ever did was ever genuinely photo worthy since you two were sneaking around most of the time. When this image was taken, you were supposed to take pictures for a class project and brought the camera with you to his house after your photoshoot with your group.

“Why do you have a camera? I thought you wanted to be a writer.”, he asks after noticing it in your bag and taking it out.

“Oh, so you ARE listening to me when I talk?”

“A ha ha. You’re so funny, Y/N.”

“It’s for a class project we’re working on.”, you giggle.

“Is the project sexy basketball captains?”, Steve joked as he held the device high in the air away from your reach. “Handsome Men at Hawkins High? Oh! Or Gods in Bed?”

“No. It’s a project about Hawkins jerks who steal stuff and are TERRIBLE in bed.”

You playfully tackle him onto the mattress and lightly wrestle with him till he has both arms around you with your face against his chest. Gently tugging your hair, his lips land on your forehead before traveling down to your own for a tender kiss. 

Holding his arm high above you both, he presses his cheek to your own as you both smile and the flash blinds your eyes. 

“Where did you get this?”, you whisper as he bends towards you and squints his eyes at the image. 

“Ummmm… stole it from your room…snuck in.”, Steve sighs as he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. “You were…gone…vanish from…Hawkins.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn off his bed side lamp but as you begin to stand, his slurred voice fills your ears. 

“Please don’t go…”

Grabbing a throw blanket, you toss it over you both as you curl up into his side and rest your palm on his chest, letting the comforting rhythm of his breathing lull you to sleep.

############

The feeling of lips on your shoulder causes your eyes to flutter open.

You had rolled over in the night and were currently facing Steve’s bland, gray bedroom wall as soft hands roamed your skin. Pretending to still be asleep, you melted into his touch as you pushed your back into his chest. Fingers gently caressed your stomach and up your shirt as his mouth continued to travel towards your neck. 

Quickly moving some of your hair away from your face, Steve kissed your cheek as his palm massaged your breasts briefly before gliding back down to your stomach. You could feel his eyes watching you as you subtly moaned, the bulge in his slacks pressing against your clothed ass. 

You allowed your lower half to grind against him as his groan grumbled low in your ear. Moving one of his arms above your head, you reached up to intertwine your fingers with his as his other hand slipped through the waistband of your pants and under your panties. 

“Daddy.”, you panted as he guided his middle and ring fingers inside of your core. 

Steve didn’t respond verbally, his teeth gently grazing your earlobe as he rolled his hips against you matching the pace of his digits.

“Fuck, yes. Please… Talk to me, baby.”, you beg. 

Again, he doesn’t answer, releasing your hand to wrap his arm around your chest and hold you to him as he moved his fingers so fast between your legs that the sound of your slick filled the room. 

Your body trembles against his as the dam breaks and your nails dig into his skin as you cum. 

Rolling over on to your back, your eyes try to find his but he hastily diverts them as he focuses on pulling down your pants. Gripping his chin, you force him to look at you. 

“Talk to me, baby.”, you repeat. 

“Why are you here?”

His question genuinely threw you off as you scanned his face searching for a reason. 

“You asked me to. You said you didn’t want to be alone.”

“Yeah but WHY are you here, Y/N? You left me, you have a boyfriend, you think I’m a bad person yet you’re here.”

“I thought you wanted to be with me. That’s why you said what you said a few weeks ago. Why do you care? I’m just the girl you fuck to feel better right? RIGHT?!”

“THAT’S RIGHT!”, Steve shouts but even he realizes he sounds insincere. “You should go home.”

“What if I don’t want to go home.”

“I wasn’t asking. Get your shit and get out of my house.”

“No.”

Angrily, he rolled out of bed and grabbed your ankle, tugging you to the edge of the bed. Before he could take hold of your arm to lift you, you smacked his cheek blind siding him as you ran out of the bedroom and towards a guest room with the intent of shutting him out. 

Steve was much faster than you, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you off your feet as he carried you down the hall towards the stairs. 

“Why do you do this, Steve?! Why do you push me away?!”

“Because, little girl, like you said, I’m toxic. I’m just like my father and I’m sorry to say, honey, you aren’t at the level of my mother. You’re the side piece trash my dad throws out when he’s done.”

As soon as he reaches the bottom step, you take hold of the banister and manage to wiggle out of his hold, running towards the kitchen to allow for the barrier of the island between you two. 

“Said the man who has a picture of me in his nightstand. It seemed pretty worn too, Harrington. How long have you had it? How many times have you taken it out to look at over the years?”

“I look at it when I need a reminder of how low I sunk when it came to women back then. Thankfully I do much better now.”

“Oh yeah? Like Barbie? Wait, I mean Tiffany…Erica?”, you snicker sarcastically. “Couldn’t even bother to remember her name. Do you remember any of their names? Hell, was I the longest ‘relationship’ you had?!”

He lunges to the side but you duck out of the way just in time as you move around the island. 

“Oh shit, Steven. I was wasn’t I? Even in school you had all these women at your side but they were never yours. Why is that? Because if you had been in a real relationship, I never would have continued whatever the fuck we had. Didn’t have the balls to?”

You watch his face with immense satisfaction as his eyes get darker, filling with even more fury. 

“And that’s what pisses you off the most, huh? You say I’m the side piece but the fact of the matter is you are… and that scares you. I could throw you away just like your dad did to his whores… just like he does with you… Yet instead of standing up for yourself and claiming me; proving to me you can be a good man; you act like a child. You couldn’t even tell your daddy to fuck off which is why you went to the bar to get wasted.”

Shaking your head, you size him up and down with your eyes in disgust. 

“You’re not my Daddy, little boy.”

The calmness that washed over his face frighted you a bit, signaling to you that you needed to tread carefully. You had only ever seen him this way once before back in high school…the first time.

“Steve?”

“Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck do you want?!”, the boy growls from his place on the bleachers in the now empty gymnasium.

“I don’t mean to bother you. I don’t know if you remember me but we have a couple of classes together—”

“Wonderful. Go away.”

His gruff tone shakes you a bit but you were determined to say what you wanted to say. 

“Ok. I, um, I just wanted to tell you that I heard what your parents…your dad… said and I just wanted you to know that…he’s wrong. I think you did amazing out there tonight. Honestly, I think you do awesome every game but…”

The jock’s angry yes shoot up to look at you as he scans you over. 

“Yeah. Thanks…”

“Y/N. No problem. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you be now.”

Reaching out abruptly, his hand grips your wrist and yanks you in one motion on to his lap so you were straddling his waist facing him. You should have gasped and hit him, called him a pervert or asshole, and immediately got away from him but the way he was looking up at you with those heart broken eyes… 

“You’re a very nice pretty girl, aren’t you?” You blushed at his calm, seductive tone as your hands balanced yourself on his shoulders. “Can I return the favor?”

He fucked you right there on the bleachers not caring if any one saw either of you or if you were embarrassed by someone walking in and catching you two. Steve used you till he was spent and he wasn’t gentle by any means. You loved it and he knew it as he smirked up or down at you every time you came. 

He didn’t chase you this time as you left the kitchen and ran down the hall. You didn’t know why until the man rounded a sudden corner and wrapped his palm around your throat. Pushing you backwards, he guided you towards the sofa before taking a seat and hurling your front half over his lap.

You squirmed as he held you down, yelping when his hand came down hard on your behind. 

“It’s been too long since you’ve been punished properly, little girl. Between the disrespect, attitude, and being a little whore, I think it’s time I put you in your place.” You wiggled against his hold but he was firm as one of his arms pressed into your shoulder blades. “Stop moving!”, Steve shouted as his hand came down harder than before. 

“Ow…Steve…”

You yelped as his palm came down again a couple more times. 

“It seems, Y/N, that you keep forgetting who I am but don’t worry. We’ll make sure it sticks this time. If this is the only way to get through to you, so be it.”

“Steve…please…OW!”, you whine when he spanks you again. 

“Don’t act like this isn’t turning you on. I bet if we pull off these panties, you’d be dripping like the little disobedient slut you are.”

After hitting you again, he yanks down your underwear making you groan as he slides his finger through your slick. 

“See? Didn’t I just make you cum? Look how wet you are. I told you before, honey. Pissing each other off is the shit that really gets us going.”

Minutes passed but it felt like hours as he continued to spank you turning you into a sobbing mess. Your ass was extremely sore and marked up enough that you would need to come up with an excuse if Jacob saw them. 

“Steve, please…”, you begged. “How many more?”

“However…many…more…it…takes!”, he shouted near your ear as he hit your behind between each word. “Who am I, Y/N?”

Circling his thumb along your clit, he didn’t allow you a moment to breathe as he built you up and your brain blanked. 

“Answer me, little girl!”

“DADDY! You’re Daddy, Steve.”

“Damn right. I’m not some side piece you throw away. I’m fucking Daddy.”, he growled. “People like you and my parents think I’m nothing but I’m NOT. Women scream my name almost every night. I’m the CEO of a huge firm. I make a ton of fucking money. Why isn’t that enough, huh?!”

As his palm connected with your red, bruised skin, you came drenching his lap with your arousal. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths as he tried to calm down, Steve’s gaze shifting to you when he heard your small sniffles. 

As carefully as he could, he lifted you up and turned you around till you were sitting properly on his lap with your face in the nook near his shoulder. While you continued to cry, his hands massaged your arms while he tenderly played with your hair. 

“What color are you at right now, honey?”

One of your arms rose to circle around his neck as you softly kissed his skin.

“Green, Daddy.”, you whisper. 

Steve curtly nodded as his eyes remained forward while he continued to pet your head, allowing you time to come back down. 

“Are you ok?”, he asked in a tone you had never heard from him before. He sounded almost…afraid. Lifting your head, your palm reaches for his cheek and turns his face so his eyes can meet yours. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cross a line. I didn’t mean to…hurt you.”

Placing your forehead on his, he sighs as your fingertips run along the slight stubble over his chin and up to his lips. 

“I don’t mind you hurting me.”

“You’re not supposed to lie to me, baby girl, remember?”, he smirks as a breathy laugh escapes his chest. “You like when I’m rough with you in bed. You like pushing me to rile me up just like I do with you to see if you will because I know you’re a fucking brat.”

Steve’s grin grows as you blush, knowing he’s telling the truth. 

“The problem is you and I don’t know where the line is. It always seeped out into our day to day and into my insecurities. That’s what you don’t like. You don’t like me using you and breaking your heart. Just like I don’t like watching you cry. Not like this anyway.”

Lifting you into his arms, he carried you back to his bedroom and into the bathroom where you marveled at his massive clawfoot tub. After getting the bath ready, he holds your hand as he guides you but you pause before you sit. 

“Will you sit with me, Daddy?”

“Yeah, honey, I can do that.”

After waiting patiently for him to disrobe, you allow him to climb in behind you and take a seat as you lean against his chest. His large palms run along your shoulders and down your arms making you sigh as you tilt back to kiss his cheek. 

“You were always enough for me, Steve Harrington.” His eyes meet your own as you continue. “The problem was I was never enough for you.”

“Y/N, I’m moving to New York.” Your eyes widen as move away from him and scan his face for lies. “I was only supposed to be here for this project and then run the company as a whole from over there. I…I never expected to see you again. I…”, he pauses as he tries to collect his thoughts. “I want you to come with me.”

“Steve…I can’t…”

“Yes you can. I feel like we can work on this if we can be together. I know we can learn the line and just keep this in the bedroom without going too far and being toxic.”

“We had so many more problems than you being jealous and screaming things at me.”

“Y/N, I don’t want anyone else. I’m not the same guy I was. I won’t cheat. I won’t hurt you. I’ll claim you… I DO claim you. You’re mine, baby.”

“You just told me an hour ago that I’m just the girl you fuck and I should get the fuck out of your house.”

“I’m not perfect. Truth be told, like you said, I AM afraid of losing you again so I lashed out. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I don’t believe you.”, you whisper. 

“Then why are you here?”

“You said—”

“No. You’re your own woman with your own free will. You still could have gone home. You still love me and I love you, sweetheart…so fucking much.”

His arms wrapped around you, hugging you to him as you began to disassociate. You did still love him; you always had even after you left but you left for a reason. You stayed away for a reason. If you and he were having this discussion 5 years ago you would know immediately that he was just doing whatever he could to appease you without really hearing you and hurt you again a few weeks later. What killed you was if this was 5 years ago and he said he was moving you would have said yes without thinking. 

Now you were overthinking and fear was taking over. 

What if things just went back to the way they were? He seems sincere but a lot of his behavior has been the same. But he said he wanted to work on that and with me. Steve said he was finally ready to claim me and that he loved me…

But what about Jacob? He’s been such a caring and patient good man. I can’t hurt him like this especially if there’s a chance Steve could hurt me again. 

You should have voiced your concerns to him and talked about it like adults. You should have sat on his couch and heard out his plans for success when it came to your relationship together. You should have listened and expressed everything you needed to but you didn’t.

“You knew what this was…”

Steve’s entire demeanor stiffened as you whispered the words he screamed at you the night before you left. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t quite catch that. Do you have the balls to say it louder?”

Rising to your feet, you grabbed a nearby towel, wincing when it grazed your behind as you wrapped it around your body.

“I said you knew what this was. It’s not my fault you caught feelings.”

He laughed to himself as he climbed out of the tub allowing the water to drench his bathroom as he headed for the bedroom. 

“Keeping going, honey. But really twist the knife and make it hurt. That’s what it will take for what you’re doing to work.” Grabbing your clothes off the floor, he tossed them in your direction as your eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to hurt me, right? To push me away because you’re scared of actually taking that leap and giving me a chance?”

Your glassy eyes shifted away from him as you threw your shirt over your head and pulled on your underwear. 

“Because that’s what I did.” You froze as he continued, slowly moving your way as he spoke. “Why do you think I fucked Lori that night? Y/N, you told me you loved me and it scared the hell out of me. I was a popular, rich, Harrington… I was supposed to become my father. I was supposed to cheat, run a business, and make a ton of money by any means necessary.”

Stopping at your side, his fingers gripped your chin forcing you to turn and look at him. 

“All I wanted to do was run away with you… but I panicked and hurt you instead causing you to run away without me. Y/N, I knew I fucked up when I climbed through your window and you were gone. I lost the one person that actually gave a damn about me and who I genuinely cared about. I’d like another chance and I promise you won’t regret it.”

“I already do.”, you murmured as you buttoned your jeans and began walking down his stairs towards his front door.

“Oh, Y/N?”, he called nonchalantly.

“What, Steven!?”, you shout as you glare up at his still naked frame leaning over the second-floor banister. 

“You forgot your phone.”, he says calmly flashing you the screen that was currently illuminating a picture of you and your boyfriend as his call came through. Panic flowed through your entire body as his thumb moved the green dot. 

“Y/N’s phone, this is Steve Harrington.”

####################

@daysinthephoenix @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @livosssblog

#steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington angst #joe keery smut #joe keery fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #toxic!steve harrington #mean steve #fan fiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n smut #spotify #Spotify

[channieismyboy]

just like that <3

{gammer!felix x reader}

a/n: this was pure self-indulgence (also for my beste who's in love with felix) - masterlist <3

warnings: oral (m receiving), pet names, slight exhibitionism, slight dom/sub themes

summary: felix has been spending a little too much time gaming, and not enough time with you (so basically you helping felix under the desk)

-

you felt as though your life was on an endless cycle. everyday you would do the same four activities; wake up, go to school, come home, and finally sleep. of course there would be the occasional assignment due on a late night, and exams that you would have to spend your whole weekend studying for. however, everyday would relatively be the same as the last. that is until, your boyfriend felix had a weekend off.

thankfully, you had no additional assignments, or exams you had to study for on that weekend. it was almost meant to be you think. however, the weekend that you had planned in your head differed from the one you're experiencing right now.

so here you are now, laying on your stomach on your leather couch in the living room. while your beloved felix has been gaming for the past three hours.

normally you wouldn't be as upset, as on a day-to-day schedule, you would be spending most, if not all your time with felix. nonetheless, with school and other schedules occuring, you haven't spent much time with felix. thus meaning, you haven't spent time with him intimately.

this has been bothering you for the past week and a half. you don't always mean to get so needy, it's just that you can't help the thoughts that come to you late at night. the replays of past your orgasms, and your cherished memories with felix just add on to your neediness.

as a consequence, all that build up of longing to be with felix just causes something within you to snap. so you get off the couch, and head into the room where felix was. just before you're about to enter, you hear his voice. his oh so attractive deep laugh, fulminating through the door.

your mind just wanders. wanderers to what his moans sound like, the high pitch ones that he makes just when he is just about to reach climax, or the deep groans he would let out while you're on your knees, tongue swirling around the tip of his-

you cannot handle this anymore, you think. turning the handle and opening the door quietly, you see him sitting on a chair, with a monitor in front of him, playing whatever game he’s playing. he looks so beautiful, his hair a bit messy from staying at home, and his black shirt with rolled up sleeves, exposing his toned arms.

it was quiet in the room, the only sounds to be heard were the clicks of his keyboard. your eyes focus on his hands, eyeing his fingers.

you make your way to him, tapping him on the shoulder to let him know your here, you guess he never heard you come in with his headset on. he looks up at you and smiles instantly, how adorable you think. how incredibly cute.

"hey baby, how are you?" he asks, his smile is too precious. "i'm good, just wanted to spend some time with you," you answer back.

"okay then, i'll finish this game. or you can sit on my lap while i play?" he asks, eyes still on the screen. his tone is still the same, however you wished he could just pay a little more attention to you.

you seat yourself on his lap while he's playing. you observe the room, its dark, the only light is coming from felix's computer. "can't they hear you?" you ask, pointing to his headset. "oh no, i put it on mute," he answers.

you lay there for a little while, enjoying the warmth felix was providing you. enjoying the feel of felix's hair as you play with it. the occasional 'fuck' and 'shit' felix would say under his breath, however. that you were enjoying the most. but after a while, it's starting to become tedious, just doing nothing.

so you decide that you would sneakily tease felix. acting as if your a bit uncomfortable, you'll move around on his lap. you do so, rolling your hips a few inches back and forth. to no one's surprise, felix is unresponsive. perhaps you didn't do enough? maybe you should roll your hips a tad more? just as you were about to continue, you notice felix pressing on the mute button.

"don't think that i don't know what you're doing, dear," felix says, his eyes are still on the screen in front of him. "i'm not doing anything, just trying to get comfortable," you retort back, faux innocence laced within your voice.

"well, you're making my pants uncomfortable with your antics. if you're needy, just say it and i can take care of you after my game." he says, finally looking at you in the face. you think that you can't wait, it's just been too long since you've been with felix. so you get off his lap, and bend down under the desk so you're facing his knees.

"baby, wait. please don't- not right now i'm in the middle of a game-" felix get caught off by your hand reaching up and palming his semi-hard cock through his pants, him letting out a small moan.

his lips parted as if he was going to say something, however you hear a voice coming from his headset. he tries to talk to the person, however he stumbles a bit on his words as your hand begins to move faster and faster.

in no time he's hard. felix looks down at you, telling you to stop while he's still talking to someone. you don't comply, instead you pull down his pants, and take out his cock.

"no baby, don't do that. they're gonna hear us- fuck," he says, moaning into his words. you lick a long stripe of his shaft, until you reach his tip. giving it little licks, and looking up at his with doe eyes. as if you're not doing lewd things to him.

"we can't do this now, they'll hear me. fuck, don't... use your tounge like that ah-" he says, whispering to you, and leaning his head back, giving in to the pleasure you're giving him.

you start to suck on his tip, while you left hand jerks the rest of him. and the right plays with his balls. then you try to take a bit more of him in your mouth, however your gag reflux kicks in before you could do much. "no no, if you're going to do this then, take it all in your fucking mouth," he says, while his hand pushes your head down further.

you try your best not to gag, your hands grabbing onto his legs for support as he fucks your mouth rigorisly. felix lets out little grunts and swears under his breath. his pace quickens, and his hips stutter a bit, you know that he's close. so you take on from here. you pull off his dick with a small 'pop' sound that follows, and lean down to suck on his balls, while your hand jerks him harder and faster. squeezing the tip a little as you continue.

"i'm gonna cum. open your mouth for me, you're going to take all my cum, okay love?" he asks. you open your mouth, and stick your tongue out a little and he strokes himself until he's cuming on your tounge, some of it going on your face.

he sits in his chair panting for a bit until he speaks again. "fuck, i don't care about the game anymore, i think i'll have teach you a lesson." he says to you with half lidded eyes. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second.

-

a/n: heyy guys, this ff was kind of for me lmao. i just wanted to write this real quick cause i couldn't get this senario out of my head after seeing all the taste teasers on tiktok smh- anyways i hope you enjoyed it!!! i love you all, and make sure to eat and drink water properly <3

#skz scenarios #skz fanfic #stray kids #stray kids smut #felix smut #felix #lee felix #felix skz #felix fluff #felix x you #felix x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #lee know #skz #changbin #felix soft hours #felix hard thoughts #felix hard hours #for me #felix skz smut