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eddiesxangel · 5 months

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Show Me | Older!Eddie x F!Virgin Reader

Anonymous asked: I loved your post about Eddie x virgin!reader so much💞Do you think you could write older!Eddie x virgin reader?

Anonymous asked: Inexperienced!reader giving Eddie a handjob and a blowjob for the first time?

Cw: ten-year age gap, sex toys, female masturbation, the reader is kinda a perv (oops), Eddie is also kinda a perv (oops), reader first time giving oral, reader first time having sex, pet names.

CW: 7.1k It's long again, I'm sorry! idk how to do short

Moving trucks have been parked in your neighbour's driveway for about two days. You had always liked the Kaminskys, but they were older and now moving to a retirement community. This is the second day of moving trucks, and the new owners are moving in today. You have yet to receive much information from the realtor regarding the new neighbours, but you hope they'll be pleasant. You had already baked something to welcome them to the neighbourhood, in hopes that it could be a younger family or couple. Perhaps someone closer to your age?

You moved to this town around three years back when you received your first job offer after completing your college degree. You had saved up enough money to buy a one-bedroom house for a very affordable price. Although it required some repairs, you were happy with it because it allowed you to decorate it according to your liking. You loved the neighbourhood even if you were the only twenty-five-year-old on the block.

As you looked out from behind your front rooms curtains, you could see the movers unloading a big moving truck. There was one person among them who really caught your attention. You had never seen him before. It was a small town and you lived in a quiet suburb by the water in the south of Michigan. Everyone knew everyone, and you hadn’t seen this man before.

He appeared to be in his mind to late 30s and had a muscular build. His brown wavy hair was tied back in a low bun that connected with the five o clock shadow in his face. He was wearing a tight black ribbed tank top that showcased the tattoos covering both his arms and hands. He was hot... Way too hot not to have not ever been seen or talked about in your small lakefront town. Upon further observation, it became apparent that he was not wearing the attire of a mover.

Oh my god. He must be the new neighbour.

“Please be single, please be single, please be single,” you chanted as you hastily went to your closet in search of an outfit that looked cute so that you could introduce yourself.

You took your time getting ready; he obviously needed time to unload, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him…. And whoever else might be moving in.

God, you hoped he didn’t have a wife or whatever.

You shook your head to get rid of your rambling internal thoughts. You took a deep breath and told yourself to chill the fuck out. You could do this. You’ll go over in your sweet little sundress, introduce yourself, and offer him the chocolate cake you baked…

You weren't as excited as you were last night while baking it, now you were just nervous. You imagined a sweet family moving in with a newborn - a couple your age with whom you could become really close friends. But now, you are faced with a hot and sexy bad boy neighbour who may or may not have a wife and kids. Maybe he wasn’t into women at all?! That would suck. This situation is making you feel extremely anxious and overwhelmed due to your lack of interactions with the opposite sex.

To say you haven’t had a lot of experience was an understatement. You went through high school without a boyfriend. You went through college without a boyfriend. You weren’t into drunken hookups with random strangers for your first sexual experience. You went on many first dates, but nothing ever came of those many first dates. So you waited. And waited.

You thought that maybe you would meet somebody through work and then it would happen, but you’ve been so caught up with working and renovating your house your social life has taken a step back.

Of course, you wanted to find someone. To finally be with someone in a sexual way. To give yourself wholly to someone. Nothing ever went past kissing and or being felt up. But that was the extent of your sexual experience with another person.

Your sexual experience with yourself, on the other hand, was pretty standard. You've got your toys to get by. The first time you gave yourself a real orgasm from the vibrator you bought, it changed your world. Slowly, you worked your way up to toys you could insert once you got a little braver. So technically, yes, you hadn't slept with another person, but now you were more than ready to explore and get out there. You wanted that connection with someone.

So, about half an hour after the moving truck left, you worked up the courage to walk over and knock on the front door. You gave yourself a once-over before leaving. You wore a white sundress with tiny red cherries that fell mid-thigh, your hair was pulled back with a matching red hairband, and you had a fresh, subtle makeup look.

With a deep breath, you held that cake with all your might to ensure you didn't drop it and you simply knocked on the door.

"Just a second," You heard a deep voice call out. A few long seconds later, the door opens, and you're face to face with a wet, shirtless man in just a towel. As you suspected, it was the man you saw unloading the boxes.Fucking hell, He was attractive, with a toned body covered in tattoos. Your gaze drifted to his towel hanging low on his hips. -"Oh shit, sorry, let me just uh- I'll be right back," He sputtered as he realized he was basically naked in front of a young woman, most likely his neighbour.

"Sorry, I can come back later!" to try to fight off the blood rushing to your face.

"No- no, just, uh-hang on!' You hear him yell from inside the house. He came back out wearing black sweatpants which he had cut himself to make into shorts and a plain black tee shirt.

"Hi." He smiles as he walks back onto the front porch where you stood.

"Hi, I'm sorry. I should have waited a little longer to come introduce myself." You laugh uncomfortably.

"Nah, it's okay; not every day I'm greeted by a pretty girl with a cake." He smirks.

"What? Oh yea, I uh- just wanted to welcome you and uh your...wife?"

He shakes his head no.

"Your partner?"

Another no.

"Kid?" you try one last time. And he smiles with a chuckle.

"Anyway, I baked a cake just to say welcome." You shoved the plate into his chest, almost smushing it into his shirt.

"Thank you, that's very kind."

"You're welcome. So, um, I guess I'll get going; leave you to it." You turn to walk down the steps.

"Wait! What's your name?" you wince. You're so nervous you didn't even introduce yourself.

"I'm sorry." You giggled uncomfortably.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he smiled. His smile was infectious; you smiled back and gave him your name.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Um- thanks." You shy into yourself.

"So you said you live next door?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm just over at forty-four." You motion over your shoulder to your house.

"You live there with your folks?" He cocks his head.

"No, Mr. Munson. It's all mine, mine alone." You giggle.

"You don't look old enough," he squints suspiciously.

"I would like to have you know I am twenty-five." You say proudly.

"Oh well, pardon me." He smiled. This made Eddie feel much better about being so attracted to you. God forbid you were still living at home with your parents. He would feel like a total creep.

"Anyways, I uh should get going," you point over your shoulder.

"Oh, ok, well, um, once I'm done setting up, please stop by whenever. I could use a familiar face around... being new to town and all."

"Sure thing, it was nice meeting you. Mr. Munson." you smile.

"Please call me Eddie!" He called as you walked back over to your house,

"Enjoy the cake!" You give a small wave.

"Oh, I will." Before you turn back, you watch as he takes a finger, dips it in the icing, and puts it in his mouth without breaking eye contact... you hadn't witnessed anything so sensual. You almost trip over your sandals as you scurry back into your house.

All of your interactions with Eddie over the next week were flirtatious. He managed to make your heart beat faster than any man had before.

After a week and a half, Eddie finally organized the house. His furniture was set up, and most of the moving boxes had been emptied. He would see you when you came home from work in the evenings as he sat on his porch with a cigarette.

"Hey, Eddie," You would blush,

"Hey, sweetheart" He would smile back without fail.

If anyone else were to call you that, you'd want to clock them; however, coming out of Eddie's mouth? Somehow, it made you swoon.

"Hey, um, you don't have to, but would you want to join me for dinner? Tonight? I am sure you're exhausted from unpacking, and I'm a pretty good cook... unless you hated my cake so feel free to say no.-" You rambled on.

"I'd love to join you for dinner. That's very sweet of you to offer." This was so new for Eddie. Neighbours being neighbourly. He was always the outcast in his town growing up. Now, at thirty-five, he is finally saved up enough to get out of town, start fresh, and open his own autobody shop. Have an actual house of his own, not that he wasn't grateful for his uncle and the trailer park.

Here, he could be anyone he wanted to be. He met some of the townspeople, and they seemed nice enough when he told them he would be taking over for Mr. Sanders's mechanic shop.

"Okay, great! I'm just going to get changed, I'll leave the door open; feel free to come in and make yourself at home whenever you're ready." You motioned to him and his cigarette."

"Thanks, Sunshine." He smiled that smile you couldn't overcome, and you rushed inside to find a n outfit that didn’t scream ‘I work for corporate America.’

You made your way up to your loft, which doubled as your bedroom that overlooked the living area and kitchen. You were in the middle of stripping when you heard the front door open; only then did you realize that when you told him to make himself at home, you had forgotten the minor detail that he would be able to see you changing. You scurried into your walk-in closet with a squeak so he wouldn't have dinner and a show.

"Sunshine?" He asked, walking into your home.

"I'll be down in a minute!" You yell as you scramble to find your jean shorts.

"Take your time." He walks around your home, observing your picture gallery.

"Help yourself to a beer or whatever you want in the fridge."

"Thanks."

As you walk back down your stairs, you see Eddie sitting on your couch, beer in hand. Man-spread with an arm around the top of the sofa. You wished you could be by his side, arm around you instead.

"Good, you made yourself at home."

"Well, Sweets, I am a good listener." He tilted his head back, taking a swig from the bottle. You watched his Adam's apple bob in his long throat, and you thought about what it would feel like to kiss it.

"Any dietary restrictions?" You ask, shaking yourself from your dirty thoughts.

"Nah..." He shakes his head. "So, how did you swing a place like this at your age?"

It felt like a dig; maybe he just saw you as a kid... you would change his mind on that.

"Um, well, I got it on foreclosure; you should have seen it; it was a mess, and everyone wanted to tear it down, but I had a vision. It took a few years, but it's finally finished. I had some help from my grandmother's inheritance, but it wasn't much. So I worked my ass off, and here we are" you spoke as you got together the pots and ingredients.

"Looks like you're doing well for yourself" He smiled as he watched you bend over, unintentionally showing off your cute plump ass.

"Yeah, I guess. So what do you do?" you turn and catch him staring at your behind.

"Well, I just bought the auto shop off Mr. Sander's, so if you're ever in any car trouble, I'm your guy." He smiles.

"Good to know; I know nothing when it comes to my Ruby."

"Ruby?"

"Yeah, my car, she's red, so I named her Ruby."

"That's cute; it suits you."

You don't say much after you start cooking; you are in the zone, ensuring everything is perfect.

"So, what's a girl like you do around here for fun?"

"A girl like me?"

"Yeah, young, beautiful." He takes a bite like what he said was obvious.

"Umm well... work mostly. We have block parties, it is all families around here; my friends all live in the city." You take a sip of beer to settle your nerves.

"This is really good." He motions to the plate of food in front of him.

"You know what? We are having our town's Fourth of July party on Saturday. Everyone goes, you should come! I can show you around more, introduce you to more people, and you can spread the word about your new business opening up next week."

"Yeah, I'd really like that."

After Eddie had thanked you for the meal, he stayed a few more hours; you enjoyed his company. He respectfully kissed you on the cheek goodnight, and you made your way straight up to your room with your toys because you couldn't stand it any longer.

Eddie made you feel like your body was on fire. When he would lightly graze his fingertips along your bare arm or when he would compliment you. His voice alone made your lower tummy tingle.

You pulled out your trusty rabbit that never failed you. You felt dirty, but Eddie had you so worked up you needed relief.

As you lay on your bed, you strip yourself down to nothing. You think about how Eddie’s big, strong hands would tease your body. Working yourself up in your mind. You got wetter by the second.

You imagined how his voice would sound as you imagined the filthy words that would come out of that perfectly plump mouth. That mouth you wanted all over your body.

You imagined, pictured, and played a movie of Eddie and you in your head until you got so worked up that you couldn’t take it anymore. Your clit was screaming at you to be touched. You turned on the toy, it came to life, and your body quivered with anticipation. Your body sprang to life as you slowly worked the toy around your wet hole and then plunged in the dildo. You went deeper and deeper until the little vibrator at the top of the toy hit your clit.

Your body arched up as you felt the waves of pleasure wash through your veins. You pumped the toy in and out of your wet pussy, thinking about your older neighbour. How hot he looked in nothing but that towel when you first met. How your pussy clenched at the sight of his happy trail. How his muscles formed a V travelling right to where you wanted most. You could see his bulge under the white fluffy bath towel wrapped around his waist. You thought about how good his flesh would feel against yours as he pumped his cock inside of you like how you were with your toy.

“Oh, Eddie!” You moaned, forgetting your window was open for the summer breeze you loved to feel in the night.

Your free hand travels to your breast; you tweak your sensitive nipple and moan out again. Your white transparent curtains fluttered with the wind, but you were too wrapped up in your fantasy to notice.

When Eddie got home he went straight into his new bedroom and opened his window because the evening breeze was blowing. He then got ready for bed and was reading when he heard his name. His head shot up, thinking he was hearing things. Then, he listened to another sultry moan. He took off his reading glasses and got up to investigate. His eyes shot wide open as he saw your silhouette through your curtains. He saw your the outline of your body, how your hand worked where he wanted to put his cock the most.

It was wrong, it was so wrong, but now Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of the image in front of him. He tried walking away, and he almost did, but when he heard your sweet voice moan his name again, his feet were planted on the ground. This only confirmed that you were as attracted to him as he was to you. He had thought so tonight at dinner but now he would dare to go for it. Ask you out for real.

Your body felt like it was on fire the way the toy vibrated throughout your body. The pressure kept building and building until you were on the brink. Your body seized as your pussy clamped down on the dildo inside of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the waves of pleasure washed over your entirety. You caught your breath and knew that Eddie was the one you wanted to be with. He was the one; if he could make you feel this good in your fantasies, you can only imagine how it would be for real.

Eddie was nervous, even though you had confirmed, unintentionally, that you were attracted to him; it had been a while since he asked out about a girl he liked, especially when he was about to ask out one who was ten years younger.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough. You had asked Eddie as a friend, but Eddie would treat it as a date, and he would make sure you knew it was a date. You were excited to spend time with Eddie again after your dinner. It had only been four days, but the anticipation was creeping in. You were so surprised when he showed up at your door with flowers.

"Eddie, you didn't have to do this, but thank you!" you smiled as you sniffed the daisies.

"Of course I did; what kind of date would I be if I showed up empty-handed?" He smirked as he stepped into your house as you went to get a vase for your flowers.

“A date, huh?” You smirked over your shoulder.

“Yes. A date”

“Okay,” you smile as you take his hand in yours and lock up your house.

Eddie was smitten; he had you on his arm, and he felt like the king of the world. You were also smitten. Finally, you were on a date with someone who you were very interested in.

Eddie was funny and charming, and you found out he was really nerdy, but it was only much more endearing. You learned how he played guitar and was in a high school garage band that landed a few gigs at the local bar. The more you got to know him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you as the night went on, and you enjoyed it. When he wasn't holding your hand, he was holding your waist; if he wasn't holding your waist, his arm was draped over your shoulder.

When the fireworks started, you gazed up at the sky together, wrapped up in one another warmth as the cool breeze of the lake came through. Halfway through the show, he went to kiss the top of your head but you had moved to look up at him, and you caught his lips with yours. Just like the fireworks in the sky, there were fireworks between the both of you. When you both pulled back, you could see in his eyes that he felt it, too.

You finished off the night hand in hand as he walked you home. He kissed you good night like a perfect gentleman, and you bid one another a goodnight.

You were so giddy and excited about Eddie. The more you went out, the more time you wanted to spend with him. You were finishing your third official date when you asked him to join you inside your place for a nightcap.

Things moved quickly once you settled inside. Your drinks were hardly touched. Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off you.m as you made out like a couple of horny teenagers in the couch.

Your mind was racing. Why hadn’t you told him you’re a virgin? You invited him in. He’s probably expecting sex… oh god, what if he’s turned off by the fact that you’re not experienced?

“We can slow down if you want.” he pulled away; he had sensed something was off. You became stiff and seemed like you weren't into the makeout anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit nervous… I’m -uh just out of practice…” you shied.

“That’s okay we can take it slow.” He stroked your cheek.

“Are you sure?” You twiddled with his fingers that are resting on your thigh.

“Of course. We can go at your speed.”

“I need to tell you something.” You looked down at the floor. He nodded his head but then spoke because you weren’t looking at him.

“I’ve never… I uh. Shit. I’ve never been with anyone before.”

“What?” Eddie was dumbfounded. How? There was no way he heard you correctly.

“I’m a virgin.” You pull away, but Eddie reaches for you.

“oh wow. I wasn't expecting that... uh- but that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” he comforts you.

“But I do want to,” you rush out. “It’s not like I’m waiting for marriage; it just hasn’t happened…”

“We will go at your pace” Eddie smiled.

“Thank you”

You shift closer to him, wanting to kiss him again, especially after being so cool with everything.

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he was hesitant.

“You sure, sunshine?”

“Yea” you sigh into his mouth.

Eddie grabs the back of your head so he can pull you in closer.

Your hand rested on his knee. As you continued to kiss him your hand bravely traveled up his thigh.

“Woah, hold on, sunshine.” He rested his hand on yours to stop moving.

Oh my gosh, this is it. He had come to his senses. He’s rejecting you.

"You sure you want to go there? Because if we keep going, I will want to do things to you, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable if you're not ready."

"I promise. I've waited so long for the right guy, and I'm ready, trust me." If he only knew about your little collection of toys upstairs.

"We don't have to go all the way tonight okay?"

"Yeah, okay." You nodded your head with anticipation. Okay, this was good. He accepted you, and he still wanted to fool around.

You returned to making out on your couch, and the heavy petting ensued. This time, Eddie didn't stop your advances as your hand travelled up his thigh to the crease of his leg and up his crotch. Your hand felt around his bulge through his jeans. There was no denying that he was turned on. The way his cock strained against the thick black fabric should have been illegal. It must have been uncomfortable for him. You just had to let it spring free.

You shifted your weight forward to get closer to him. To feel him. His thighs were thick and defined. You could also feel how hard they were. Your mind wandered to how they would feel to sit on.

Before you knew it, your body was moving before your brain could catch up. One leg draped over his, and you were mounted on Eddie's leg. His deliciously thick leg. You just did what felt right; as you sat down on Eddie, the pressure situated onto your pussy felt so delicious. Your hips started rocking back and forth, building up a rhythm.

You heard and felt Eddie moan in your mouth, and this only enticed you on to keep going, your body driven by pleasure.

"That feel good, baby?" He cooed in your ear before he started kissing down your neck.

"Mmmmhmmm." You nodded frantically, eyes shut, not daring to look at him.

"Good girl, keep going." You felt his big hands grip the top of your ass as he helped you rock your hips against his jeans. The pressure in your lower stomach was building and building; you could feel your orgasm as close.

“Fuck that’s it, use me”

Fuck, you haven't gotten off by dry-humping something in years. Not since you found your first vibrator.

"You close, baby girl?" He whispered against your lips as you kept kissing him. A muffled yes was said, and before you could continue to speak, waves of pleasure washed over your whole body. It stared from your clit and radiated up like it travelled through your bloodstream straight to your head.

Your movements slowed, and you managed to catch your breath; Eddie was still hard as a rock under his jeans, and there was no way you weren't going to help out with that.

You mimicked the way Eddie kissed your neck on Eddie. Your tongue moved the way he moved on your neck. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth. Your fingers worked to open his jeans as you kept kissing on sucking on Eddie's long tattooed neck.

"You don't have to, Sugar," he panted, but you could hear in his tone that he was excited. He wanted this as much as you did... maybe even more.

"But I want to, Eddie." You batted your eyelashes, and you pulled away to let him see your playful pout.

You've watched enough porn and heard enough of your friend's stories to know what you're doing. Sure, the first and only time you saw a dick in real life was in your third year at uni when you tried to go down on the guy you were out with but then got scared, and he walked you home... but you got this! You're an adult woman who knows what she wants, and what she wants is right at her fingertips.

Your little pep talk in your head must have been evident on your face because Eddie started speaking again.

"You done this before?" He asks gently, not judgingly. You shake your head slightly in return.

"You want me to guide you?"

You nodded your head yes. You wanted to be good and do it right.

"Kay," He smiled.

Eddie told you how to work your hands slowly, teasingly at first, not too much but not too little. And no sudden sharp yanking movements at first... You listened, and when you were ready, you moved his boxers down, and his cock was released. It was so big, so much bigger than you thought it would be. The one you saw was a least half the size of Eddie's.

"Oh my god," You gasped.

"It's okay, sugar; he won't bite." Eddie kissed you to make you feel more comfortable. Your hand travelled back to his cock so you could grip it in your hand, not too hard, but not too gently like Eddie had said. The tip produced a bead of precum that was already leaking out, which was a good sign. Your fingers brushed over the head, and Eddie sucked in a breath.

"Did I hurt you?" you dropped his cock from your release.

"No, quite the opposite, baby."

"Oh," you giggled. You picked up where you left off, stroking his cock in your grip, teasing it and feeling it. You were surprised by how velvety the skin felt.

As you continued to make up with Eddie, cock in hand. You suddenly felt braver, and the need to have him in your mouth grew stronger. You slinked your way off the couch so you were sat in front of him on your knees, eyes and mouth level with his behemoth that he calls his cock.

“You sure, little one?" He asked, and you nodded your head with a smile. You moved before your surge of confidence broke.

You sat up a little more and moved his cock towards you, and tentatively licked the tip. You continued your kitten licks a few more times before enveloping his tip in your warm, wet mouth. You peered up at Eddie through your long lashes; he looked like he was enjoying himself, so you must have been doing something right? You swirled your tongue along the tip before dipping you're head down lower to take more of him. Eddie let out a moan, and this made you smile. Yes, you were doing something right. So you continued, lower and lower.

You'd be lying if you didn't say you've tested your gag reflex on one of the dildos you own; where is the fun in that? But now that it was a real mans cock in your mouth, you understood the hype about giving head. You genuinely liked it so far, but that's probably due to Eddie and how comfortable he makes you feel.

"You sure you've never done this before?" He managed to get out.

"uhhhhuuhhhhhh" You moned against his cock and that only jerked Eddie's hip up into you.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that just felt really good, baby" He stroked your head before gripping the back of your hair like he was resisting to push you further down.

"Fuck baby, you're way too good at this to be a virgin."

"You calling me a Liar, Mr. Munson?" You popped off his cock and started jerking him off with your hand again.

"No, no, baby, shit, I mean, ohhh, fuck you're very good for this being your first time."

"Thank you" You put the tip back in your mouth as you sucked on it, but your hands continued to work the shaft.

Eddie didn't last much longer; he told you to take your mouth off but continue with your hands, not wanting to ruin his chance of being with you again if you tasted cum for the first time and you were disgusted. So you listened, wanting to please him; you watched as the white liquid spurted from his shaft and ran down your hands. It was warm and all you could picture was what it would look like leaking out of your pussy.

"Let me get you a towel" You got up when his cock finally stopped spazming.

You walked back over with a warm wet dishtowel, but not before you took his softening cock in your mouth to wipe up the access.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie wasn't expecting that. It was like he had awoken something inside you.

"I wanted to know what you tasted like," you surged before you handed him the towel.

"You, little minx, are going to be the death of me."

Eddie and you had been going out for two months since he moved in, and it had been a week since you gave Eddie your first blow job. It's been on your mind for the majority of the week. So when he asked you out again on a fourth date, you were very excited to see how that one would end. What more would the two of you explore?

Eddie cooked for you; he had a nice romantic dinner in his kitchen. His place was finally fully unpacked, and he gave you a grand official tour of his house afterward.

"You going to show me your bedroom?" You teased.

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" He teased back.

You headed up to his room. You walk inside, and it's pretty spacious; he has a small window off to the side that looks into your house. You stroll around the beige-carpeted floors to see if your suspicions are correct. He does, in fact, have a direct view of your bedroom.

"Ever spy on me, Mr. Munson?"

"mmmmm once or twice." He chuckles as his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body.

"Really?" You got a bit nervous; what had he seen?

"Well, a man can't help his curiosity when he hears a sweet voice moaning his name in the middle of the night."

This makes you gasp. He had to be joking! But then again, your windows are close together, and you love leaving them open...

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He turned you to face him, but you buried yourself into his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. "It's flattering.”

"Eddie" you moaned into his chest."

"I'm serious, knowing you want an old guy like me?"

"You're not even that old," you mumbled.

"Please look at me, Sunshine." He tilted your head up so he could gaze into your eyes. You tried to fight it, but you ultimately gave in.

"I'm embarrassed," You pout.

"Don't be; you don't even need to be embarrassed about your fantasies with me. Understood?"

"Okay." You shy away meekly.

“You want to tell me your fantasies? What you were thinking about when you touched yourself all alone in that bed of yours?”

“I-i-want…“

“It’s okay. I know you’re nervous, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

You paused, took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“I want to be taken care of,” you whispered.

“And”

“I want you to be the one to do it…”

"We can definitely arrange that," he said before taking your lips. His tongue parted your lips, making its way into your mouth. He was an excellent kisser. You were getting wet just by his kisses alone.

Eddie backs you up and leads you toward the king-size bed. Your knees give out when they hit the soft mattress, and you fall back, dragging Eddie down with you.

"You gonna let me take care of you, baby?"

"Please?"

"That's my girl." He smiled into the kiss before getting up so you could shimmy back onto the bed so you could rest on the pillows.

Eddie's mouth found yours again as his hands travelled up your body, feeling every inch of your skin. You felt like your body was on fire; the heat radiating between the two of you was evident.

"Can I take this off?" He played with the hem of your sundress.

"You can do whatever you want"

"That's a big promise, little one, gotta be careful with making promises like that." he cocks his head.

"I just want you." You go to take off your dress, but Eddie stops you so he can do it himself. You came prepared; you wore the nicest bra and panty set you owned. A pink lace and satin set. It made your boobs look out of this world the way the fabric cupped you just right. Accentuating every curve.

"All this f'me?"

You didn't answer. You just needed to kiss him again; your bodies melded together as he pressed you further into the mattress. His hands cupped your breasts, moulding and kneading them, and your sensitive nipples began to perk up at his rough touch.

"You're perfect," Eddie sighed as his mouth detached from yours and moved down to your neck. Your body tingled as his soft lips explored the exposed skin.

"Eddie," you moaned out in pleasure. Your hips started to grind up onto Eddie's calf, and he knew he had you right where he wanted.

His hands moved lower, cupping your lace covered heat. His fingers felt so good above the lace that separated the two of you; you couldn't wait to see what they felt like skin to skin.

"You mind if I?"

"Yes!" you said, a little too excited. But Eddie didn't mind. He thought it was so cute the way you were eager to let him explore your body.

"You know how often I've pictured you on this bed?" You shake your head, not biting your lip.

"Oh well, I would picture you like this... no, wait. There would be much less clothing." He wraps his arms around his body to take off his shirt, and he throws it across the room; next to go were his pants. You giggled at his antics. "Much better."

You could feel his cock press against your stomach as he pounced back down onto you. He continued where he had left off, his hand exploring your clothed cunt again, circling your clit above your panties, making you let out a sweet moan. He moved his hands further up until he made his way underneath your panties.

Your hips automatically moved as Eddie's hands explored your wet folds. His free hand pressed your hip, silently telling you not to move, that he will do this for you. You no longer had to be the only one to make yourself feel good. He was here to take care of you.

His thick finger slipped past your folds and up into your tight cunt.

"Oh!" You called out as his fingers broke past the barrier. They were much bigger than you're used to; your hands could never do the same as he was doing now.

"You're ok, baby," he cooed. He worked his hands inside of you, hitting a spot you'd never located before. That made your mind go numb and all fuzzy.

Eddie pulled out of you, and you whimpered in protest but quickly understood he was only taking off your panties for you. You lifted your legs, you helped him out, and he kissed down your leg until he reached your centre.

"May I?" He asked.

"Yes." You sigh.

Eddie waisted not a moment longer. His lips attached themselves to your lower ones. You’d never felt anything like it. The way his soft mouth moved around your clit, kissing and sucking on your swollen bud. You thought I couldn’t get any better than this. Until his tongue made its way onto your body and you cried out in pleasure. Too consumed by Eddie to be embarrassed by how loud you were being.

“Eddie! Oh god, yes, fuck right there!”

“You taste so sweet, even better than I imaged.” Eddie hummed into your cunt mimicking the vibrations your so use to with your vibrating toys. You body was quivering underneath him within minutes. He was way too good at this.

“Please, I’m coming, oh god I’m cuming!” You try to catch your breath with every world but it wa s no use. Eddie didn’t let up until your body was spent.

You watched Eddie sit up, your liquids covering his chin. He smiled as he spoke.

“We are only just getting started baby”

Another whimper left your throat as he pulled down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. It bobbed as it was released from its confines and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in your mouth again.

“I know what you’re thinking, baby. But no, not tonight. I need to feel you.” He went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. You watched as he pulled out the condom from its foil wrappings. Your legs clenched in anticipation.

"I'm going to take real good care of you, Sunshine." he rolled it into himself before crawling back over your body.

"Okay, Eddie. I trust you."

Eddie's heart fluttered as you spoke. He was so honoured that you chose him to be your first. He would make you see what you had missed this whole time.

"You ready?" He asked.

"Yes, I think so." You nod.

Eddie hovered over you as he took your lips into his once more. You could taste yourself in his mouth and he slowly worked the tip along your slit collecting your natural lube so he could slip himself easily inside.

"Oh my god!' Eddie was thick, so much thicker than you were used to with your silicone boyfriend you had hidden in the drawer. Thank god you were at least used to that because you didn't know how you would have handled this otherwise.

"You're doing so well for me, Sunshine." he praised as his cock dove deeper into you. Your tight cunt felt like paradise.

You told Eddie he could start moving once you were comfortable and adjusted to his size.

You saw starts as his cock plunged in and out of you; it felt so fucking good. You couldn't keep in your pleasure. Moan after moan was music to Eddie's ears. Why had you waited this long to feel something so good?

"So good, fuck, you're so fucking tight." His strokes never let up. He kept the same tempo as his hips snapped into you. Your mouths hardly disconnect unless you need to come up for air. His hands explored under your bra as he pulled a cup down to free your nipple. He moved from your mouth down to take your breast into his mouth, curling your peaked bud just like he did your clit minutes before.

Your body was lit up again; the heat between you both was one thousand degrees. Eddie, was your everything at this moment. You didn't, nor couldn't think of anything but the pleasure he was feeding you.

"More, more, more," You chant as Eddie's cock pounds into you, filling you more than you had ever felt before.

Eddie listened and moved his hands to your clit. Sparking an electrical bolt through your entire body. Your already sensitive clit was pulsing with desire as Eddie continued to pleasure you. With each stroke of his cock and hand, your body couldn't take it anymore, and you began to convulse under him.

"Shit fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," Eddie spoke before he realized that he was making you cum undone beneath him.

"Oh, yes! Eddie!"

"That's it, such a good girl, taking me so well. God your pussy is made for me." he spoke as he still used your body for his own pleasure. He didn't take much after your cunt latched down on him like a vice that he was coming right after you. A loud grunt left his lips as he felt a wave of please come over his body. His sensitive cock spurted its hot while cum into the condom that was still inside you.

"Wow," Was all you managed to say. Your brain was mush, but it was the best way possible.

"Yeah, wow," Eddie chuckled as he rolled off of you, out of breath but feeling blissful nonetheless.

"Is it always like that?" You mindlessly asked.

"With me, baby girl? Yeah." He chuckled.

"Wow," You repeated. Your brain is still not fully back down to earth.

"You wanna be my girl Sunshine?"

This snapped you back into reality.

"What? Really?" You turn your head to look at him.

"Yeah, baby girl," He cupped your face, waiting for your answer.

"Yes, Eddie, I'll be your girl"

Part 2

Tag list: @starksbabie @skyline4446 @bl00d-puppy @xxhellfirebunnyxx @amira0303 @ali-r3n @lavendermunson @fairykissesaresweet @minorlystuck13 @feral-pumpkin-energy @asimpforthe80s @flawiette @munsoneightysixx @localemofreak @babybimbo777 @elegantkolalapaper @stayonmars @harringtonxkeery @hellfiremunsonn @eddiestans-blog @sp1dyb0y1008 @nailbatanddungeon @munsonology @shadyhologrambanana

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #older!eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x virgin!reader #older!eddie munson x virgin!reader #Eddie Munson fluff #mechanic!eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fan fiction

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solarmorrigan · 6 months

Note

For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."

Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3

[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.

Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.

Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.

The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.

“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”

Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”

“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.

“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.

Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”

“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.

“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.

“No,” Gareth reiterates.

“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.

He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.

Like, one or two, maybe.

“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”

“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.

“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”

“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”

This declaration is met with a moment of silence.

“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.

“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”

“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.

“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.

“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”

“Constantly,” Gareth adds.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”

“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”

Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”

“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”

“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.

He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.

“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”

“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”

Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.

“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.

And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.

Easy.

Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.

“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”

The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.

There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.

Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.

“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”

Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.

“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.

He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.

And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.

Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.

Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”

Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”

“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”

“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”

“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.

That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.

Steve says nothing.

“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.

Except.

Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.

“Oh, shit.”

Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.

“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.

“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”

“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”

“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”

“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”

Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”

“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.

“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”

And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.

“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”

I like being with you, too.

Eddie had said that.

He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.

“I– I didn’t mean–”

“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.

Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.

“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”

“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”

Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.

“Steve…”

“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.

After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.

He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.

“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.

“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.

“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”

The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.

Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.

With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.

And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–

Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.

He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.

His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.

At least he won’t have to wallow for long.

Part 2

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #smallspaceplant #eddiesteve #listen Steve is u-haul lesbian flavored and Eddie is I know we're married but do you like me? lesbian flavored - you feel?#anyway I shouldn't be allowed to use tags on less than six hours of sleep!#answers from solar #solar wrote #hurt no comfort #edit: now with a continuation that will eventually include comfort

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emacrow · 29 days

Text

First, It was Barb was doing night checks on wayne manor cameras surveillance pt 2

Previous post pt 1

She was in a bit of awe when she saw the newest very rare exotic flower Alfred got bloom under the light of the full moon, revealing beautiful crystallized like petals blossom, only for her widening eyes to take noticed of a tiny little pixie like child to pop his little head out of the center of the flower.

His hair was unnatural white fluff like a dandelion in her opinion, eyes glowing an otherworldly green, freckles that sparkle like the stars themselves, ears a bit long and pointy, wearing a odd clothing with a needles strapped to his back, that she could barely catch in camera, the static buzzing sound from her cameras was making it a bit difficult to hear what sound the tiny little fairy boy made as he floated above zooming around the garden a bit like he was excited.

It made barb's inner child squeals, screaming, flipping her tiny princess table at the possibly of Nederland being possible.

Curious little bug, floating around like the fairies in Disney like except of the Glow pixie dust like she seen on the movies, he left a trail of blueish green light that faded away rather quickly with the way he was flying into the slightly opened kitchen's window...

Wait a goddamm minutes..

Barb immediately switch cameras to the kitchen, looking around, only to see it went through the hallway already, switching cameras again, checking the living room, the hallways, only to catch a glimpse of trail glow zooming around.

Crap crap. OK, no need to panic Barb. What do curious pixie like fairies out in the human world.. bring the season right?!, play with children like that Bell fairy did? Finds and take lost things and secretly repair lost things?..! Fairies are weak without pixie dust, they don't live long without it, each fairies has a different part of the seasons, and if you don't believe in them then they immediately die and that cause imbalance in the world without their influence unless you truly believe in fairies to bring back one fairy.(she went through a whole fairy obsession phase as a kid, she still mourns the lost of the create your fairy open world game)

The fairy must've Found a new type of pixie dust to fly without wings if she could recall that one sequel with the new pixie dusts colors thing..?

It was like a game of Where Waldo except where the little mythical fairy boy that couldn't possibly- no no barb don't think about the taboo words, if you think about it and this poor mythical being dies due to your words then the guilt will haunt you Forever.

3 hours in the catch the glimpse of the fairy boy, flying back at to his little flower holding a tiny cube of sugar, a shiny tiny object that she can't get a clear of, and a plump blueberry the size of his little hesr as he lands in the petals that were closing around him. Crystallized back close as if to guard this little fairy being with its own life.

Right when the full moon glimpse was gone out of the sight of the garden from the sky when the smog cloud from the city covering once more.. Barb is writing that down in her notes..

#barbara gordon #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp prompt #danny is the ghost king #dcxdp #alfred pennyworth #barb haven't seen a fairy disney movie since she was a kid #tim is going to questioned why barb watching t*nker bell movies series early in the morning at 3am #she have notebooks upon notebooks about fairies and other mythic beings #she having a meltdown and hysterical moment that if fairies are real then unicorns could be real too 🥺#danny the tiny borrower #who got tiny ghost powers #the trace of ecto makes a buzzing sound when he flies #barb is going down the endless rabbit hole of i do believe in fairies #trying to figure out whom to tell without them saying the words that can kill fairies #she did research on the flower and saw that it was a very nearly extinct delicate flower from an unknown undiscovered island

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cameronspecial · 19 days

Note

Rafe x read share the bed for the first time

Bed Companion

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Masterlist

Y/N has never shared a bed with a boy before and she isn’t sure she is ready to do it now, but she isn’t going to let Rafe sleep on the floor, not when he paid for the dinner, the hotel room and her car repair. So, the least she can do is let the man she has been on a few dates with share the bed he is paying for with her. This still doesn’t help ease her nerves as she brushes her teeth in the bathroom. She makes sure to go through her nighttime routine slowly to give her time to think and she has never been more glad that she keeps an emergency night bag in her car. After completing what she can of her night routine with what she has in her bag, she changes into her pyjamas and braids her hair. She hesitantly opens the door of the bathroom and stands in the doorway. He looks up from his phone and smiles, “All done?” She nods, stepping further into the room so he can enter. He gets up from the bed and grabs the bag of stuff he bought from the hotel gift shop on his way to the bathroom.

A sigh passes her lips when she hears the door click behind her. Her feet shuffle against the carpet as she heads toward the other side of the bed. She pulls back the sheets and allows herself to slip under them. The covers cocoon her whilst she turns to her side to scroll through her phone.

Ten minutes pass and the bathroom door swings open. He notices her back faces him, which helps him see the rigidness of her shoulders. “I can sleep on the floor if you want. It is really no problem. I’ll need to call the front desk for an extra blanket,” he offers, grabbing the other pillow to put it on the floor She quickly turns to him and sits up. Her hand grips the hand with a pillow, “No, don’t. I promise that I’m okay with this. I just need a second to get used to it.” “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, Y/N/N,” he argues, trying to take his hand out of her hold. Her head shakes, “I’m not. I’m only worried that I might not be the best at sharing a bed. I’ve never done it before besides with my siblings.” He steps forward and a leg comes up the lean against the bed. “I’m sure you are an amazing bed companion. If you aren’t, then I promise to tell you,” he jokes. She giggles and nods. “Okay, well if you promise, then what are we doing waiting around? I could use a good night's sleep after the day we have had.”

“Agreed.” He gets into bed beside her and throws his arm across the top of her pillow. She understands his message and snuggles into his side. Her head rests on his chest. She finds the rise and fall of his chest soothes her. “This is nice,” she whispers. He stares down at her, kissing her temple. “Yeah, it is. Good night.” She presses her face harder against him as she closes her eyes, “Good night.” And tonight is the best sleep Y/N has ever gone until the rest of her night is spent like this one.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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kxsalt · 1 month

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cw fauxcest

The stuffed bear falls to the floor as her big brother tackles the bully. He sits on the boy’s chest, pinning his arms to the ground as a hail of punches drop from the sky. The onlookers scatter as a teacher runs to break up the beating. Her big brother is dragged off to the principal’s office for the last time as the bully wails in pain. She picks up the bear and hugs it close to her chest.

The stuffed bear watches as his little sister eats his staff meal from a takeout container. He looks over her homework while he tapes up his fingers; covering chemical burns from a poorly maintained dishwasher. He slides the workbook over to her and asks for an explanation to a tricky question. The girl pushes in close to him to teach the equation.

The stuffed bear listens in as they celebrate. An acceptance letter, to a school far away but prestigious enough. A generous scholarship, not much but a beginning for her to start her degree. Maybe more will come. The siblings laugh and cry, exhausted revelry from people given too much responsibility too young.

“I’m scared.” “Me, too. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”

The summer between her graduation and the start of her university courses moves by at an uncomfortable pace. Her big brother was always grateful for work, but for the first time in his life asks for a day off to spend some time with his sister before she moves far away. They go on a walk around their shitty town, enjoying the warm sun. Splurging on a cold popsicle to share, they return home to argue about what to watch on tv.

Wrestling for the remote, her popsicle-stained mouth bursts into laughter as he pins her to the couch. He pulls at her arms tucked under her body, firm and strong but gentle. His sister’s soft hands claw at his calloused grip. Her cold blue raspberry tongue touches his when she kisses him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Her brother pushes away, bewildered by the embrace.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She sits outside his door, apologizing with every word she has. He sits on the other side of the wall, confused and terrified.

Late at night, the girl spoons her stuffed bear, pressing her tears into the fabric of the animal. It’s been repaired a hundred times over the years. Rough, immature stitches across the wise, touch-softened fur. The eyes are the same as they always were. Once, one fell off walking home from school. Her brother spent hours searching for it in the rain along the side of the road. He caught a cold after that, and she made him chicken soup from cheap bouillon and pasta from the food bank.

They don’t talk about it. Precious weeks in the summer sprint past them as they try to pretend it never happened. They don’t hug quite as often as they used to. Their conversations get shorter as they worry about the topic changing. His sister looks over the map on her wall. Her destination at the end of the summer looking further away from her origin every day.

One night he comes home late and collapses to the floor. Barely able to move, he groans in pain. The toll of his blue collar work already starting to bear it’s weight upon him. His back hurts. The girl brings him a hot water bottle and talks with him while he lies in his own dirt on the ground. Eventually, she coaxes him back up and gives him a fresh towel for his shower. When he emerges, he’s still moving slowly, trying to stretch out his back.

His sister helps him get to the bed, and watches over his immobile body. Bringing some tiger balm from her room she starts to rub it into his strong back, feeling the knots and the weaknesses. He twitches lightly from the pressure and the burning sensation of the salve.

“It hurts.” “Sometimes things that are good for you hurt at first. You taught me that.”

The room is silent as her soft hands work on his hardened body. Her brother starts to snore. She returns to her bedroom and tries to go to sleep. After an hour, she’s still awake, staring into the bright eyes of the stuffed bear. The girl brings it with her to the living room, holding it in her arms as she paces around their small, run down house.

Creeping into her brother’s room, she whispers to him; asking if he’s awake. No response. The girl lays down next to her sibling. Her hand strokes the bear. I’ll just lay here for a few minutes. Then I’ll go back to my room and sleep. Thirty seconds later she’s out like a light.

Daybreak. The girl wakes up to see her brother watching over her as she sleeps, as he’s done so many times before. Electricity runs through her nerves as it dawns on her that she fell asleep in his bed. Her mouth opens to apologize, but he interrupts her.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay. It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”

In the midsummer heat, each night is unsettled. When she can’t doze off, she crawls into her brother’s bed and pushes her face into the bear. When he can’t rest, he climbs into bed with his sister and rubs the bear’s back. The siblings sleep late, but sleep well.

On the hottest night of the year, they go straight to her room at bedtime. He always made sure to give her the room with the biggest window, so she could look out at the sky. Now that window is wide open to steal the slightest bit of breeze. The coldest room in the house becomes the warmest when two people and a stuffed bear are in it. She learned that in school, he learned it from her. Neither of them mention the thermodynamics of their situation.

That evening, neither of them can sleep in the sticky-warm room. The bear’s old eyes watch the siblings toss and turn, trying to get comfortable. Finally, her brother sits up and takes off his shirt, desperate to free himself from the burning sensation. His sister sits up and starts to lift off hers as well. She pauses, looking to his silhouette.

“Is this okay?” “Yeah, it’s too hot. And it’s dark in here, anyways.”

Her shirt drops to the floor next to his, her naked chest clearly visible in the moonlight. Overheated, they still roll around on the mattress. He slides off his underwear. She slips out of her panties. The sheet is too much in this heat, it gets pushed down to the bottom of the bed. It’s dark in here, anyways.

Rest eludes them again. Unable to remove anything else trapping the heat, they start to talk as if their breath will cool each other down.

“I’m sorry about what I did.” “It’s okay. I just got scared.” “Why?” “Because I don’t want to do anything that would push us apart.” “I’m scared too.” “Why?” “School is so far away. I’m afraid it will pull us apart.”

She touches the worn stitches on the bear. He touches the soft fur.

“I would never let that happen.” “I wouldn’t, either.” “So, what are we afraid of?”

Their fingers interlace across the belly of the comforting animal. Their lips touch. Their bodies press into each other. His sister grinds against his thigh and scrapes her nails against his chest. Her brother touches her neck and gropes her bum. They roll over each other, trying to get in closer. Skin sticks against skin in the sweaty heat.

Her heart drops for a moment as he pulls away, immediately relieved as he pushes open her legs and starts to lick her pussy. Her back arches as the sensation tingles through her body. Her brother is generous and passionate, two things she always knew about him, expressed in a way she had only dreamed of before. The man’s tongue licks wide across her needy pussy, then sucks in tight, focusing on her clit. Precise, firm circles lace her most sensitive spot.

His sister gasps and pushes his head away moments from her climax. Crawling underneath his lowered body, she kisses the tip of her brother’s cock. She had seen it before, completely by accident, but nothing like this. Hard, swollen, and twitching, she savors the sweat and leaking precum before pushing as much as she can down her throat. His scarred hands rub her back and her bum, reaching underneath her chest to squeeze her breasts. She edges her pussy while she sucks her sibling’s cock, not wanting to orgasm until just the right moment. I’ve waited this long…

He grips her by the hair and slowly pulls her head off him. Drool runs down her chin as he stares at her with shining, eager eyes. The same eyes stare back into his. Rolling onto her back, she lifts her legs up high to her body. Like a wild animal, he walks on all fours between her arching thighs until he holds himself above her. Her hand strokes his slippery cock, pressing his head against her entrance.

“I want you.” “I need you.”

In one swift motion, the taboo is broken. The older brother’s cock slips into the younger sister’s pussy. They look into each other’s eyes. The same eyes. They see each other. Unable to restrain himself, the older sibling starts to fuck her. Unwilling to hold back, the younger sibling pulls him in close and kisses him. Wet, icky sounds bounce between their bodies, mixing with warm, loving moans of pleasure. They don’t stop kissing each other the whole time they’re intertwined.

The rhythm increases. Nothing can stop them now. The sounds of their incest fill the moonlit room, breathing more heavily in the haze and the heat. He feels his sister’s legs lock around him, behind his hips, pulling him in closer. Her brother responds by wrapping her body in a tight hug. She can’t hold back any more. Her pussy squeezes tight on her sibling’s cock as she starts to cum from their intimate fucking. His sister’s legs around him would keep him from pulling out, if he ever tried. The feeling of seeing her so safe, so vulnerable, so happy is too much for him to take. They cum together, tangled up in each other.

The couple refuses to let go of each other. They’re stuck. They can’t go back now, how would they even try? How could they do that to the other? Almost flattened under the pillow, the stuffed bear peers out at them, ever neutral. They share a short gasp and start to move again.

Daybreak brings fat drops of summer rain, bursting against the window screen, and giving them a faint, refreshing mist. Exhausted, but still awake, she holds herself on all fours in front of her brother. He holds her hair and hips, pounding deep into his sister. They cum again, and fall asleep on the stained sheets.

The cold, crisp air of late fall dances across the campus. The girl has had an excellent first semester, receiving academic accolades, and blossoming into a social butterfly. The first break of the year, and her new friends take her to the airport. They chatter excitedly, eager to meet the boyfriend she had talked so much about. She cries as she runs across the luggage area to embrace him. Grabbing her partner’s hand, she takes him to meet her friends. Later in the evening, they leave her dorm to give them some time alone. He sits on the bed and holds the stuffed bear while her last friend pulls her into the hallway. She whispers her approval.

“You two look so perfect together. You even have the same eyes.”

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 month

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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]

THE TIMELINE

"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."

- About You By The 1975

V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988

Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance.

Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy.

Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless.

Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one.

A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death.

But it was closure.

The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted.

Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room.

The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video.

It felt fresh. New. Clean.

So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?

For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months.

At first, he dreamt of death.

Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance.

Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red.

He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes.

But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before.

It didn’t even really look like a gate.

Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods.

This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean.

There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms.

It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth.

Pomegranates.

Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home.

Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them.

A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of.

The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there.

But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up.

He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too.

He knew her. He knew her.

Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before.

Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you.

Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it.

The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap.

There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came.

You were always alone.

Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work.

Not yet, anyway.

You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back.

It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm.

The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet.

Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night.

It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really.

They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes.

Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security.

Safety - an unknown feeling.

But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place.

So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too.

Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it.

Then one night, he saw himself.

He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked.

This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up.

Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm.

Safe.

Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be.

Certainly not 1988.

It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”

The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before.

He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting.

Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello.

Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright.

Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy.

He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper.

He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia.

He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get.

Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before.

Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you.

He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one.

After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep.

So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”

Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s.

“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”

Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?

Maybe, just not in this life.

Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington.

He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.

So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”

And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.

He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.

Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.

Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee.

You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate.

He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit.

He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington au

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ave661 · 7 months

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Hiiiiiii 👋😙

With all the lovely dad!Ghost renders you graced us with, can i ask if you have any headcanons for them? Can never get enough of Ghost having a family he never got to have as a kid. I just wanna hug him frfr okay I'm done babbling 😭🫶🫶🤍

Helloooo! ♥ Ok, so this is interesting ask! Some of my renders are random, but some have a story

Simon forgot to take off his balaclava. Child saw it on him and by the time he realized, it was already too late. He expected baby to cry, be afraid of him and not recognize their dad, but when they didn't and even got interested, he got emotional. Maybe he realized that Ghost wasn't just a soldier and even he became a father - not just Simon.

He wanted to introduce his baby to "Ghost". Wants little one not to be afraid of him and to know what their father does for a living

I imagine him as a dad who likes to chill with his kid in living room. Maybe he turns something on TV and waits for them to fall asleep, and when they do, he closes his eyes for a moment and eventually they both end up snoring

Riley's first introduction to his baby. Simon was afraid of dog's reaction, but baby wanted to give Riley a toy. They definitely liked each other and became friends.

These are either before or after mission - last hug or a warm hello. Maybe his partner wanted to surprise him and came to the base with their baby to welcome him?

Now some of my random dad!Ghost canons! >.<

10000000000% girl dad

he certainly never planned to have children, due to his own traumas and dangerous job, so having them was by an accident for sure.

feeling first kick, seeing a baby bump or ultrasound made something "click" in him

once he becomes a father, he is overprotective and wants to provide child with a safe and calm environment, which he never had

delicate and distant at the beginning. He doesn't think he deserves a family, and if he does have one, he's afraid of losing it.

he is action and giving type of person. A new swing in the garden? Installed in a few hours. Repair a broken toy or paint walls in new color? Done. Take baby to the doctor? You can count on him at any time. This is his love language.

grumpy type with a dad humor. Always has a lame joke up his sleeve

at the same time, as the child grows up, he also learns what it means to show love for them as a father. So only with time he starts to feel comfortable hugging his baby, playing with them, etc.

once he gets it, oh boy, he throws this kid all over the place while playing. Yes, he is the type of father who throws his child on the mattress and pretends to play WWE

have you seen this photo of Chris Hemsworth where he holds his kid by leg on a beach? Yes, this is Simon

or wraps them up like a burrito in a blanket and watch them struggle with smile on his face. The best way to tire them out, so it's a win for everyone if they fall asleep faster!

but he also likes to watch cartoons with them and cuddle (falls asleep after a few minutes)

he does THIS a lot

his kid/s definitely color his tattoos. And no, he doesn't wash them off. He's very proud of them. Definitely shows them to Soap.

seeing blood during a mission in his life was nothing compared to changing baby's diaper. Avoids it like the plague.

definitely did a fake tea party once. Little plastic chair broke under his weight.

has a lot of vids and pics on his phone of every possible situation of what his child is doing - sleeps, eats, talks, plays, smiles.... Once in a while shows them to 141

but he definitely likes photos where baby is sleeping the most. Because then he sees their calm expression and it gives him a sense of peace and fulfillment

#simon ghost riley #dad!ghost #dw I still have a few ideas for dad!ghost renders up my sleeve :*

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magneto-was-fucking-right · 11 months

Text

Envy (Part 1)

Summary: Simon Riley's sleep is rudely interrupted by the commotion coming from next door, and this time, curiosity (and horniness) gets the best of him. Pairing: König x Reader (x Ghost) Word Count: 2.5k

Content Warnings: Unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!); Perv! behaviour (voyeurism); degrading vocabulary.

Read part 2 here

It was three in the morning.

He knew that because he had checked his digital watch every two minutes during his agitated “rest” in the musty sleeping bag, spread across the filthy floor. He couldn’t sleep. The heat of the middle eastern countries didn’t quite affect him anymore, years of experience on the field forcing his body to grow accustomed to the ridiculous temperatures he had never experienced in England before. The mosquitoes couldn’t bother him either, since he seldom exposed his skin, his face covered with a light-material skull balaclava. His stiff shoulders and hardened back sometimes felt damaged beyond repair from the numerous nights spent on hardwood or concrete floors, a soft patch of dirt and grass if he was lucky, but his aching muscles weren’t the reason for his troubled sleep.

The continuous bang of the bed’s headboard against the wall was. And so were her moans. Simon Riley felt as he if was quickly spiraling into insanity as he shut his eyes tightly and feverishly tried to ignore the mattress’ springs, the slap of skin against skin, and the worst part of it, his desperate moans. He always felt a deep, sickening rage towards the Austrian soldier, as his pathetic little whines and obedient pleas echoed through the walls, begging her for more. More kisses, more skin, more wandering hands through her naked flesh and supple breasts. More pressure on her hand as she palmed him through his fatigues, or as she jerked off his length coated in her spit. Nasty slut, he thought bitterly every time he heard her dirty words, commanding him to comply to her fantasies “like a good boy”. He was angry when he heard her seduce him in the safehouse once more. He was furious because he knew she must do it on purpose. She had to. There was no way she didn’t when she knew Simon would be sleeping right next door, that she was a loud fuck and so was he, because who wouldn’t be loud when she was riding it that good and that deep. She wanted him to hear it. She wanted him to think and dream about it. Simon was sure of it.

And therefore, when he had gotten in his sleeping bag to prepare for a few hours of rest, he hadn’t even tried to fall asleep because he knew it would happen again. She always used the same tactics with König: she went for a shower in the old house’s low pressure tepid water and a bar of Dove soap that Simon definitely hadn’t sneaked a whiff from before, making it clear that he was to watch her six. But he always got to watch more than that, as she usually left the door open. Simon knew this because he had once heard the naïve colonel warn her that she had forgotten to lock it, to which she had responded only with an amused giggle. How stupid can he be, Simon had grinded his teeth throughout the whole interaction. Then, as the door to the room was closed in a very clear failed attempt at some sort of privacy, the smothered laughter began, followed by unclear mumblings in German, and soon enough, sighs and whimpers. He folded so easily, Simon thought. He tried to convince himself that he wouldn’t have, that he would’ve given her a harder time trying to get him laid. That he would make her beg him to fuck her before he even took her clothes off.

But the truth was, every time one of her delicious moans travelled through the walls, or a slightly opened door, he was immediately fighting back a raging boner that ached to be relieved through her touch. It was once again the case. He palmed himself through his pants in the sleeping bag, cursing them out as he wondered how long they would take this time. Usually, König came rather quickly. Loudly too. Sometimes inside, sometimes on her tits and her open mouth (he knew this was her favorite because it made her moan like a whore the entire time), and sometimes on himself, as she forced him to run his fingers over his soiled abdomen and suck them clean. What a pathetic fuck, he thought.

He knew she was riding him this time because she always set a frantic pace, that despite her best efforts didn’t match the speed to which the Austrian could plow into her from bellow if he wished to. Bang, bang, bang, bang – the poor wall kept being beaten over and over again, and he heard his usual plea.

“Please Schatz, I can’t hold it for much longer.”

“Of course you can König, you’re such a good boy.” She grunted in between panting, the wet slaps slowing down to a passionate grind.

Simon gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to peek, because maybe, just maybe…he had carved a hole with his knife in the weak cement wall that morning in preparation, just small enough to provide him with a little tease if the two lovers decided to get down and dirty once again. It’s so wrong, he fought himself mentally. Fucking hell, what’s wrong with me?

But all he could think about were the sounds of humanity’s most primal, animalistic instincts that flooded from next door and clouded his mind in a sex-drunken haze of languid desire. I need to see. Just once, just out of curiosity, and then I’ll be able to sleep, he tried to convince himself as he roughly got up from the sleeping bag and carefully moved to the area of the wall where he had shaped the peephole. He felt his cock twitch in his briefs, painfully hard.

There she was, sat on top of him in full glory, her round breasts on his face as he suckled on both of her nipples at the same time, his large hands pushing the fat of her tits together. Simon didn’t know where to look at first. His mind couldn’t quite process the wholeness of her fully naked body, at last obtaining answers to the curious questions of his lustful mind: as he had so often wondered about, her body was deliciously curvy and supple, her pubis covered in soft curls trimmed to perfection and her wet cunt sunk halfway König’s large cock. He could see scars in her abdomen and right shoulder, most likely old combat wounds that she had luckily gotten away with. Her hair was messy from the Austrian’s passionate touches, giving her a natural erotic aura that seemed to linger all around her and the way she moved so confidently on top of him. Her cheeks were flushed, her skin gleaming with sweat from the physical effort of both riding König and taking the slightly painful stretch of his thick shaft. Simon had to give it to him, the man was built like a fucking Greek god, with firm muscles all the way down to his navel. Her hands roamed his body freely and it seemed to make her feral: once she reached his perfectly built abdomen she bit her lip, pushing him away from her breasts and forcing him to lay flat on his back once again, before returning to her killer pace.

“Break is over big guy. Your face looks too good to be hiding in my tits.” He whimpered at her comment, blushing profusely as her breasts bounced on top of him once again, now covered in his own saliva.

“I-I won’t last, Schatz.” He warned, breathing heavily and holding on to her hips for dear life.

Ghost couldn’t take his eyes off her, dipping his hand on his briefs and slowly pumping himself to the view.

A mischievous smirk spread across her angelic features as she rode him faster, bringing him to the brink of a bed shattering orgasm, “Yes you will, my sweet.” She observed his face attentively, looking for the little nose scrunch he did every time he was about to cum. It was much easier to know now that he was comfortable enough to leave the hood that usually covered his face right next to the pile of his clothes. Once she saw it, she halted her actions completely, pulling herself off him, disconnecting their bodies and making him grunt in frustration. “Sei ein guter Junge, König” (Be a good boy, König), she commanded, making his cock twitch as he heard his native tongue.

Simon’s insides were burning with envy, wishing he would be given the chance to correct her bratty attitude, dominating her into submission. How he longed to sink into her slowly, feeling the warmth and wetness of her cunt, stretching her open inch by inch until she was a moaning and begging mess. His hand moved faster on his cock, but for now, all he could do was watch as she kissed the Austrian passionately on the lips, before moving down his body slowly, a trail of wet kisses all the way from his neck, which she had filled with hickeys and love bites, to his groin, his cock twitching against her cheek.

“If I put you in my mouth, will you behave and not cum until I tell you to?” She teased, holding his fat cock in one hand and gently cradling his heavy balls with the other. Simon gritted his teeth once again, fighting the urge to reply “Yes” himself.

“Ja Schatz. I promise, I do, I promise.” König’s eyes were shut, most likely trying to think of unerotic things that would help him hold on for a little longer, but once her tongue gave a wet lick from his balls all the way to the tip of the head he was done for, whimpering in pleasure as she worked the best sloppy blowjob of his life.

Simon pumped himself so much harder now at the sight of her head bobbing up and down as she progressively took more and more of the man’s cock, that he was fighting his own orgasm, bound to happen at any moment. He watched as she languidly sucked on König’s pink tip like a lollipop, saliva running down his veiny shaft and coating her chin and lips, as she hummed with her eyes closed.

“You taste like me” She moaned, since he had been inside of her only a few minutes ago. König moaned as she deepthroated him expertly, chocking slightly on his girth, tears in her eyes as she went all the way to the base, before coming back up and coughing. He fisted the sheets roughly and mumbled gibberish in German as she repeated the process over and over again, interrupting it only to suck on his balls once and again, making sure they weren’t neglected.

“I-I’m gonna…” He interjected, forcefully holding her hand away from his shaft as he almost came without permission. She removed her mouth from his cock, smirking.

“I won’t torture you any longer, baby. You’ve been so good to me today. I’ll let you cum, but inside of me.” She whispered softly and Simon’s body shuddered involuntarily as he watched, trying to hold off his climax. He felt as flustered and horny as when he watched his first porno, almost completely overwhelmed by his instincts that wouldn’t allow him to think properly.

And then something unexpected happened. She looked right at him through the hole in the wall. Simon held his breath, his heart racing as he halted his movements, his hand still inside his briefs. She can’t possibly see me. He reasoned with himself. They had the small light on the nightstand on, but the room in which Simon “slept” in was in total darkness. He had positioned the peephole very carefully, in a part of the wall with several other smaller holes that the safehouse had sustained from its abandonment. How had she noticed?

He was frozen in place, and she smiled innocently, before laying belly down on the bed, faced turned to him and her round ass perked up in the air. She sucked on her fingers softly, with her eyes closed, before spitting on them and moving her hand back, coating her folds generously to make sure she was well lubricated once again. Simon couldn’t breathe as König moved behind her, sinking back into her with the weak whimper of a man desperate for release. Simon restarted his movements on his cock, staring back at her eagerly, as if in a trance. He could see every change of her expression, every scrunch of her nose and tremble of her lips as the Austrian rammed her from behind roughly (still not roughly enough for his taste, but he couldn’t exactly go on giving him instructions from behind the wall). She moaned and whimpered and screamed, the depraved sounds of wet skin slapping as König’s heavy balls hit her clit with every slam of their hips.

Ghost let out a shaky breath as he was close too, and strangely enough, seeing her face contort in pleasure was getting him off much harder than seeing the way her ass recoiled with the power of König’s strokes, his large hands tightly secured against her hips. Her eyes still looked so innocent, even as she arched her back like a slut and drool fell from open mouth as she rode her cock-drunken haze.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” She cried out, her eyes tightly shut as her hand moved to rub her clit quickly as König pulled on her hair softly “Don’t stop!” she whimpered in a broken voice as she felt him hit that sweet spot inside of her. Simon felt sweat dribble on his forehead under the balaclava, his wrist aching from his continuous ministrations. König let out a deep guttural moan as he felt her clench around him, her body shuddering uncontrollably as she orgasmed, her cunt squeezing his cock and milking him for all he got. She let out a muffled scream as she buried her face on her bed sheets. Simon couldn’t contain a low moan as he felt himself soil his pants, a ridiculous amount of white, sticky fluid pooling in his briefs and soaking though his pants. König had come at the same time, his pace faltering as his hips slammed against her two more times before he buried himself as deep as possible and moaned loudly, feeling his warm seed fill her to the brim. He lay his body on top of hers momentarily, kissing the top of her head tenderly and then her back.

When she finally opened her eyes, still panting and recovering from the high, she looked at the hole again, smiling mischievously. She got on her knees, turning to König, behind her, and kissing him softly, purposefully arching her back slightly and allowing Simon the perfect view of her spent pussy, still swollen and dripping cum onto her thighs. His hand pressed harshly against the wall. How he wished he could’ve been the one making that mess. How he wished he could be the one to ruin her.

As it turned out; he wouldn’t have to wait very long…

A/N: you guys wouldn't believe how many imagines I have on my laptop that I'm either too lazy to finish or don't consider good enough to post :'). I'm trying to get my work out there more often so you guys get to enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. Do reblog if you can and let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the two upcoming parts, which will include smut with Ghost x reader and finally Ghost x reader x Konig!

#ghost cod #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig call of duty #ghostxreader #ghost smut #konig smut #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #mw2 #konig x reader x ghost

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starryhyuck · 1 year

Text

closed doors. (m)

pairing: meandom!mark + afab!reader

words: 5k+

summary: when your brother asks if a friend can stay in your spare bedroom, you don’t expect mark lee to show up on your doorstep.

genre: smut

warnings: mark is very mean, reader has slept around, oral sex, messy pussy eating, facefucking, degradation, creampie, squirting

“No. Absolutely not.”

“You agreed to it just a week ago!”

“Yeah, because I thought when you said friend you meant another girl! Not one of your slimy frat boys who plans to bring home a different side piece every night!”

Mark awkwardly clears his throat, each hand carrying two duffle bags. “I can find another place to stay, Jaehyun. It’s no big deal.”

Then, to his surprise, the both of you are quick to turn to him and scream “No!”

“My sister is just being selfish, Mark. Go and unpack your things in the spare room,” Jaehyun says through clenched teeth.

You’re no better — staring down your brother with the nastiest look you could muster. “On the contrary, my brother is the one being selfish by making his sister move in with a random stranger! Go unpack your things, Mark, so I can tell you all the little secrets Jaehyun doesn’t want his frat to know about.”

“Don’t even think about it. You know I have way more dirt on you than you have on me.”

“Really? You want to take that chance?”

Mark clears his throat again, his wrists aching from the weight of his bags.

“So should I go unpack?”

He’s surprised yet again when the siblings turn their heads to glare at him.

“Yes!”

And that’s how Mark Lee became your roommate.

—

When Jaehyun called you last week, he made it seem very simple. He mentioned how one of his friends needed a place to stay temporarily, as their apartment had been flooded and maintenance needed a couple of weeks to repair it. Since Minjeong had just moved out of your second bedroom to be with her boyfriend across town, you didn’t mind loaning the room for the time being to save on rent.

What Jaehyun didn’t tell you, however, was that the apartment that was flooded was actually his fraternity house and his friend who was displaced was actually Mark Lee. Mark was the only one without a significant other to stay with so your brother decided to throw him with you.

Mark didn’t know that much about you since Jaehyun always mentioned you were off-limits. Johnny tried to shoot his shot with you two years ago and it almost ended in a public fist-fight between him and Jaehyun on the fraternity’s front lawn.

Even though you two bickered constantly, Jaehyun hated the idea of his sister being used by one of his friends.

Mark guessed that Jaehyun didn’t know how many guys you actually brought home.

“Oh, sorry!”

It was only a few days into your temporary housing arrangement when Mark came home from class to find you straddling Donghyuck on the living room couch. Donghyuck’s hand was up your skirt and your eyes were a little watery, indicating that Donghyuck had clearly done a number on you before Mark walked in.

“D-Donghyuck?” Mark says in shock, surprised to see one of his best friends here.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans, pausing whatever his hands were doing underneath your skirt. “You’re such a fucking cockblock, Mark.”

Mark pauses at the sound of your whimper. You’re pawing at Donghyuck’s chest, lips pressed against his ear.

“More, Hyuck, please.”

“Um, I’ll come back later,” Mark shuffles awkwardly in the doorway.

“Yeah, you do that,” Donghyuck replies offhandedly, directing his attention back to you.

The last thing Mark hears when he closes his door is one of your pornographic moans.

—

Mark isn’t able to confront Donghyuck about it until they play basketball on the weekend. When he finally spots his fluffy haired friend, he aggressively bumps his shoulder.

“Bro, what the fuck were you doing with Jaehyun’s sister on Tuesday?”

Renjun’s interest peaked from his spot on the bench. He’s not very good at playing basketball, but he always joins regardless to listen to all the gossip Chenle and Donghyuck throw around.

“Jaehyun’s sister?” Renjun clarifies. “Oh, you’re so fucked.”

“Who’s fucking Jaehyun’s sister?” Chenle asks, jogging over once he sees Mark has arrived.

“Everyone calm your asses,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Jaehyun doesn’t know and no one’s going to tell him. And if we’re being completely honest here, I’m not the only guy on her weekday list.”

Mark frowns. The only guy he’s seen you with over this past week has been Donghyuck.

And the menace himself can already sense what’s lingering in Mark’s head. “You know that whenever you play basketball with Chenle, she’s definitely fucking other guys in your apartment, right?” Donghyuck questions.

Mark’s brain temporarily short circuits at the information. That would mean you’re fucking someone right now.

“But Jaehyun-“

“Jaehyun doesn’t know. And he doesn’t need to. All her hookups are kept on a hush hush basis,” Donghyuck smirks, cocky at the fact that he gets to fuck you without your brother punching his face in. “And now that you’re her roommate, maybe you can add yourself into the mix.”

Chenle laughs at the idea. “Please. Mark would fuck her and immediately run to Jaehyun out of guilt. There’s no way.”

Mark bashfully scratches the back of his neck, not disagreeing with Chenle’s statement. “Plus, I don’t really see her that way.”

The comment makes all three men chuckle. Donghyuck places a hand on Mark’s shoulder, giving him a serious look.

“Mark, everyone sees her that way.”

—

Mark returns home to see you sitting on the couch, eating some trashy food and watching your favorite reality television show. You look completely exhausted, and Mark wonders if it’s because some other guy just fucked you.

“Hey,” he greets you, slipping his shoes off and throwing his backpack to the ground.

“Hey,” you reply, more interested in whatever’s happening on your show.

Mark awkwardly prepares a bowl of ramen for himself and takes a seat next to you on the couch. You’re wearing nothing but a thin camisole and a pair of sleep shorts, and he tries not to pay too close attention to the leftover cum smearing your thighs.

“What are we watching?” He asks, trying to start up some sort of conversation.

“Some mind numbing show. I need something to distract me since I got bad dick tonight.”

Mark swallows. He wasn’t expecting you to be so direct about it, or even tell him about your escapades when he leaves the apartment.

“Oh?” He tries to level his voice. “Sorry about that.”

You sigh. “It’s whatever. Guys think that just because I’m horny when I’m ovulating, I want to be some sort of cumdump for them.”

He wonders why you’re telling him all of this, but he lets you continue your rant regardless.

“I mean, yes, is it nice to get thrown around and used every once in a while? Sure. But that doesn’t mean you forget about me cumming too!” You groan, and Mark can tell how frustrated you are.

Donghyuck’s evil voice whispers in his ear and Mark can’t help but let the next words slip out of his mouth.

“I can help you if you still need it.”

You pause eating your burger and turn to him. It’s almost like you’re seeing him for the first time, eyes scanning him up and down and checking him out. Mark’s brain suddenly spirals, and he wonders if he’s crossed an invisible line. You’re probably not even into him, and now he has to go apologize to Jaehyun-

“Sure,” you shrug, setting your food down.

His wide eyes watch as you lay yourself down on the couch, shimmying your shorts to your ankles and flinging them across the room. Mark feels like time has completely stopped when he sees the wet patch in your underwear, some other guy’s cum spilling through the fabric.

“Sorry about the mess,” you apologize. “I was too lazy to clean myself up after he left.”

Mark sets his ramen bowl down on the coffee table, unsure of how to approach this situation. He didn’t even think you would agree to his offer.

“He didn’t help clean you up?”

You giggle. “Aw, it’s cute that you think other guys do that.”

He ignores the fact that the tip of his ears are probably blooming red, adjusting the rising stiffness of his cock in his small basketball shorts. He positions himself until he’s face to face with your lace panties, thumb curiously padding over your folds.

“Mm,” you whimper needily, hips bucking themselves upwards. “Don’t tease, Mark.”

He couldn’t help but start sucking you over your underwear, his tongue catching a mix of leftover cum and your wetness. He hears your breathy giggle and your hands tangle through his hair.

“You’re nasty,” you remark. He peers up at you briefly to see your cloudy eyes.

He makes a show of slowly rolling your panties down, cock twitching at the sight of your ruined pussy.

“You’re really swollen,” he comments, fingers pushing your folds apart gently.

You hold back a moan. “Yeah, he did a real number on me. You said you can make me feel better though, can’t you?”

Mark answers by sloppily kissing your cunt, tongue prodding your entrance. His nose presses against your clit and you whine loudly. He doesn’t even need any more guidance from you, delving into your pussy and eating you like a man starved. He starts off by sucking your folds gently, mindful of how the last guy who fucked you probably didn’t prep you at all. When he hears your pitiful moans, however, and your chants of more, more, more, he becomes more desperate.

“Shit,” you gasp. You’ve never had a guy eat you out this good before, and you’re genuinely surprised by how fast you’re reaching your high. “Oh, fuck.”

You panic a little at the familiar tension building in your stomach, and Mark groans when you try to push him away.

“Wait, Mark, I’m going to-“

You collapse into a series of moans when your orgasm hits, your brain turning fuzzy. The only thing you hear is the filthy squelch of your juices and Mark eagerly slurping up your high.

He pulls away and watches as you slowly realize you’ve squirted everywhere. You groan and shut your eyes tightly.

“Sorry about that. It happens sometimes.”

He tilts his head, confused. “Why are you apologizing? That was so fucking hot.”

You giggle and open your eyes again, meeting his lust-filled gaze.

“Really? A lot of guys usually hate it because of how messy it is.”

“They’re idiots.”

You smile, tugging him upwards so you can kiss him. “Maybe you deserve a little treat for making me feel that good,” you whisper, palming him over his shorts.

Mark is about to strip so he can take you on the couch, but stops when he hears a knock at the door.

His body completely freezes when he opens it to see Jaehyun on the other side. The older male raises an eyebrow.

“Dude, did you forget I was coming over to work on our project?”

Before Mark can protest Jaehyun coming in, the man is pushing past him. Mark quickly tries to think of any excuse for why you would be half-naked on the couch, but before he could start frantically explaining himself, he’s surprised to see you’ve somehow located your shorts and slipped them back on. You also knocked over a bottle of water on the couch to make it seem like the remnants of your orgasm was just an accidental spill.

You roll your eyes at the sight of your brother, pushing past him to go into your room.

“Looks like you dragged the trash in, Mark.”

Jaehyun hisses lowly when your bedroom door shuts.

“Devil. I hope she’s not corrupting you.”

Mark swallows, pushing away all thoughts of fucking you to try and get his erection to lower.

“Nope. Definitely not.”

—

Mark avoids you for the next couple of days. The maintenance at the fraternity said the guys could move back in next week, and Mark’s current plan was to avoid you as much as possible until move out day.

He was slightly successful, but also a little hurt since you didn’t seem to care that he was avoiding your presence. You carried on like nothing happened, and Mark saw you walking around campus with a different guy almost every day.

It isn’t until Donghyuck confronts him that he finds out the truth.

“What the fuck did you do?”

Mark’s never seen Donghyuck so frustrated, hair sticking up in different directions and clothing being inside out. Mark innocently continues to dribble the basketball, looking at Chenle for help. His friend stands on the other side of the court, shrugging in response.

“Uh, what are you talking about?”

Donghyuck pushes him aggressively. “You know what I’m talking about! She won’t fuck any of us!”

Mark is more confused than ever and Donghyuck throws his hands up. “You’re a fucking idiot,” Donghyuck murmurs under his breath. “I’m talking about your little roommate! She canceled all of her hookups this week, including me, Jeno, Jaemin, and Yangyang. I want a fucking explanation, Mark, for why I wasn’t able to get good pussy today.”

Mark shrugs. “How am I supposed to know?”

Chenle comes over when he realizes no one’s planning on throwing the ball to him anytime soon. “Hyuck, she probably got a boyfriend. Leave Mark alone.”

“No no no,” Donghyuck chuckles like an evil villain. “She doesn’t do that dating shit. She’s either getting really good dick or Jaehyun found out. So I’m going to ask once again — what the fuck did you do, Mark?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Mark puts his hands up innocently. “Otherwise I’d get in trouble too.”

The statement makes Donghyuck and Chenle stop in their tracks.

“No way.”

“You?!”

Mark winces at how loud Donghyuck’s voice can echo.

“You?” Donghyuck repeats in shock. “No way. She canceled on us to fuck you?”

“We haven’t fucked,” Mark clarified. “I just ate her out last week because she wasn’t feeling good and I was going to fuck her until Jaehyun came over. We haven’t done anything since then.”

Donghyuck strokes his chin like he’s trying to solve a mystery.

“How did she cum?”

“Huh?”

“Did she pretend to cum? Did you feel her actually cum? Did you use a vibrator? Did you use your fingers?”

Chenle gags. “This is the worst conversation I’ve ever heard.”

Mark awkwardly clears his throat. “I just used my mouth. And she squirted.”

Donghyuck completely freezes and Chenle waves a hand over his face.

“Dude, I think you broke him,” Chenle mutters.

Mark squeaks when Donghyuck suddenly tackles him, the younger boy pinning him down and glaring at him.

“What the fuck?” Mark exclaims, trying to push Donghyuck away from him.

“You’re lying,” Donghyuck growls. “You have to be. There’s no way you made her squirt.”

“What’s the big deal? She said she’s done it before,” Mark says, still failing at getting Donghyuck off of him. He ignores Chenle’s laughs at his predicament.

“Yeah, by herself! No guy’s ever made her squirt before. Trust me, me and Jeno have tried many times. Separately and together.”

Mark ignores the fact that Donghyuck just admitted to having regular threesomes with Jeno.

“But she told me-“

“She lied. So clearly she stopped fucking us to get with you. This is so humiliating for me.”

Mark sees a flash of a camera and Chenle’s giggle.

“And now we have it documented.”

He hears the soft padding of footsteps before Renjun approaches, taking in the sight of Donghyuck pinning Mark down on the floor of the basketball court.

“Um, what did I miss?”

“Oh, Renjun, you won’t believe this but-“

“Zhong Chenle!” Donghyuck finally peels himself away from Mark to chase Chenle around the court, preventing him from telling Renjun about how you rejected Donghyuck for Mark.

Mark’s head is still spinning from the information when he sees Renjun’s head pop into his vision above him.

“You look sick. You should go home, dude.”

—

Mark followed Renjun’s advice and got out of the court as fast as possible. He dismissed Donghyuck’s insistent protests for an explanation on how he made you squirt.

When he arrives home, he’s surprised to see you cooking ramen on the stove. He’s even more surprised to see you wearing nothing but his shirt and a tiny pair of panties peeking out from the bottom. You turn slightly to see him, smiling when he walks through the door.

“Welcome home!”

He tries to ignore how his cock twitches at your words.

“Um, thanks. What are you making?”

He drifts into the kitchen, ignoring the voice in his head that’s telling him to go to his room and lock the door.

“Just some ramen,” you hum. “Wanted a quick snack.”

“Ah,” he nods. “I actually just came back from seeing Donghyuck.”

“Oh?” You say, not sounding surprised in the slightest by the information. “Did he say anything?”

Mark can tell you’re playing a game with him, and he’s not sure if he wants to bite. “He just mentioned how he hasn’t seen you lately.”

You laugh. “I’m sure Donghyuck was more colorful than that. He isn’t exactly careful with his words.”

Mark nervously swallows. “Well, he said that you haven’t really seen anyone since last week.”

You hum. “Interesting. I wonder why that is.”

You shoot him a small smile, and Mark recognizes the mischievous glint in your eye. You reach for some spices on the top shelf of your cabinet, and he gets an eyeful of your ass.

You gasp when you feel Mark press against your back, and you watch as he turns off the stove.

“Why are you teasing me?” He breathily asks in your ear, fingers gripping your hips tightly.

“Am I?”

He can hear the smirk in your voice. “How did you get my shirt, you little minx?”

You giggle, grabbing his hand and guiding it to your core.

“I did a little snooping in your room. You’re such a slob,” you say, remembering all the stray chip bags and old t-shirts Mark has lying around.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he cups your mound, and he groans when he feels how wet you are. “This is supposed to be a temporary thing, remember? I don’t exactly have to keep everything in tip top shape.”

Your folds are practically spilling out of your underwear. “Don’t you think these panties are too small for you?” He asks, rubbing your clit gently. You whimper and buck your hips up into his hand. “It’s no better than not wearing them at all.”

“I thought you liked seeing my pussy,” you hum, leaning back on him. “You sure liked it when you ate me out last week.”

Mark is quick to move your underwear to the side, inserting a finger into your cunt without warning. You moan loudly and grip onto his arms.

“About that, Donghyuck told me something interesting,” he mentions, focusing on how tight you feel around his finger. “He said no guy’s ever made you squirt before.”

You’re pretty desperate for him at this point, so you barely register what he’s saying in favor of trying to get him to push more of his fingers into you.

“Uh huh.”

He chuckles and the sound shoots straight to your core. He grants your wish and pushes two more fingers into your weeping hole, basking in how he stretches you open. Your mind turns into mush once he starts pumping them in and out of you, scissoring and rubbing against your sweet spot. You wonder how he’s managed to learn your body so quickly.

“It really grabbed my attention when he said that because I was under the impression that someone’s done that to you before.”

Your whimpers turn into cries when his thumb starts to circle your clit, and you struggle to respond to him.

“J-Just my fingers. Not a-anyone else,” you mindlessly say.

“You’re so fucking desperate,” Mark hisses meanly, nipping at your ear. He has to admit that his conversation with Donghyuck has given him a major ego boost. “So what? You fuck every guy on campus to try and get close to the pleasure I gave you? But they’re not me, are they? That’s why you stopped going to them.”

“Mark,” you cry when he removes himself from you, slapping your ass roughly.

“Get on the counter.”

You quickly obey, legs wobbling slightly as you prop yourself up on the kitchen counter. Mark is fast to drop to his knees, spreading your legs apart and diving into your cunt.

“Fuck,” you whimper when you feel Mark’s tongue lapping at your wetness.

He keeps his eyes on you when he sucks your clit, slipping two fingers in your entrance. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your whole upper half collapsing on top of the island.

Mark’s gaze follows you, learning what you like and what your body really reacts to. Every time he curls his fingers upwards, you shake a little and your moans grow louder.

“S-Shit,” you gasp, struggling to breathe. “How are you so fucking good at this?”

That tension is building in your stomach again, even faster than the first time. You can tell Mark is expecting it, opening his mouth wider and sucking you harder. He revels in the sound of your loud cries, begging him for more and desperately asking to cum.

“Please, please, please-“ you plead, pushing Mark deeper into your cunt.

He pulls back briefly to direct you. “Squirt for me, baby. Show me how I’m better than everyone else.”

When he grazes your clit with his teeth, you fall off the edge. Mark eagerly fingers you while your juices spill on the kitchen floor, his cock straining in his shorts.

Before you can regain your senses, you find yourself being turned around, and your feet hit the kitchen tile.

“Mmf,” you mumble blearily, your vision blurry.

He shushes you, hands exploring your ass as he pulls your underwear down. “It’s alright, baby. I got you.” You feel the tip of his cock prod your entrance and you whimper, pushing yourself back on him subconsciously.

“Please- I want-“

“I know, I know,” Mark assures you, voice sounding slightly smug. “You want my cock, don’t you? Dripping for it, acting like a whore just to get it.”

Your cheek presses against the counter, mind empty and thinking of nothing but Mark’s cock. When he finally eases himself into your cunt, you swear you see heaven.

“Shit, baby, you’re soaking. Makes it so easy for me to slide in,” he mumbles, watching as he easily disappears into you.

“M-More, more-“ you plead, reaching behind yourself in an attempt to get him to bottom out.

When he finally does, he’s laughing condescendingly in your ear. He brushes your hair away from your face when he thrusts in the first time so he can see how you fall apart.

“You’re so fucking easy,” he snickers, and you’re amazed by how you unlocked such an evil side to Mark Lee. “No wonder all the guys pass you around like a new toy.”

It’s embarrassing how fast you reach your second orgasm. You scream and shudder when your body snaps. He shows no signs of stopping either, railing you through your high. You reach the point where you can’t tell if you’re begging him to stop or to fuck you until you pass out.

And Mark has no idea where this burst of confidence comes from, but he finds himself pulling out of you and tucking himself back into his shorts.

“What-“ you whisper, suddenly feeling empty. “Where are you going?”

“Clearly, a brat like you only cares about her own pleasure. I guess I should find someone else to take care of me.”

You begin to panic even though Mark has no intentions of actually leaving. “Wait- Wait, no-“ you desperately cry, legs shaking as you try to stop him. You immediately sink to your knees, hands gripping his thighs. “I can take care of you.”

Mark scoffs, eyes challenging you. “I doubt it. Look at yourself — kneeling in a puddle of your own filth, thinking you can suck my cock and be decently good at it. I’m not like Donghyuck, you know. I don’t cum easily.”

“I don’t want Donghyuck,” you sob in despair. If he’s surprised by the sudden tears running down your face, he makes no show of it. “I want you! Please, I’m sorry I was so selfish. I won’t be like that ever again.”

He runs a finger down your face before cupping your cheeks harshly.

“Then tell me I’m the only one who gets to fuck you from now on. No one else.”

You don’t skip a beat. “Just you. I’ll only fuck you from now on, I promise.”

“Show me.”

You quickly take his cock out, angrily red and leaking from the tip. You gasp when Mark grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs cruelly. You get the message, opening your mouth wide and loosening your jaw.

He has absolutely no mercy on you, shoving his cock far down your throat. He ignores your gagging, saliva dripping from the sides of your lips. He begins a brutal pace in face fucking you, his cock consistently hitting the back of your windpipe.

Venom drips from his voice. “I want you like this from now on. Ready on your knees as soon as I walk through that door. Understood?”

You try to nod but it only comes out as a mix of garbles and choked noises. He finally grants you mercy and allows you to breathe for a few seconds.

You wheeze, coughing and sputtering. Mark decides it’s enough recovery time for you, however, pushing you up against one of the kitchen cabinets on the floor. He completely folds you in half, throwing your legs over his shoulders and lining himself up to your entrance once more.

“Beg for it.”

“Please fuck me!” You cry, not caring how pathetic you sound. “I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll be a good girl. Please!”

“And?” He says, leaning closer to you with a waiting gaze.

“And you’re the only one I’ll be with from now on! I promise!”

Mark ignores that his knees are soaked in your juices from earlier and that he’ll probably get bruises from the kitchen tile. He fucks you at a brutal pace, slamming your head into the wooden cabinets over and over at the force of his thrusts. Your neck aches but he makes you watch him pound into you, his cock abusing your pussy as he likes.

“If you’re nice, I’ll let you cum again,” he hisses, balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “If I think you’re being a brat again, I’ll make you lick your cum off the floor.”

“G-Good, I’m g-g-good,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “Good girl!”

He chuckles. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

He leans over you and you take the hint, opening your mouth and allowing him to spit on your tongue. You swallow eagerly, showing him how you obey him.

“You’re such a perfect little doll, aren’t you?” He snickers, your wetness starting to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock. You can’t tell if he wants you to answer, but you’re too fucked out to reply anyways. “When Jaehyun told me to come live with his sister for a few weeks, I never thought you’d be such a campus whore. He always talked about you like no one’s ever even allowed to speak to you. Guess he’ll never know how most of his friends have already spitroasted you, huh?”

“I-I need-“ you whimper, failing to come up with what you want to say.

“Aw, baby wants to come?”

You nod, hoping he’ll grant you permission. He smiles as he stares at you, fully cockdrunk and wanting more. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand now.

“Go ahead.”

When he feels you tighten around him, Mark goes with you, ropes of his cum shooting deep into your cunt. There’s so much of it that it spills out of your folds.

When you come down from your high, you pay no attention to the searing pain in your neck. You look up at Mark with wide eyes.

“Are we together now?”

He still feels a little mean, so he pushes you a little more. “Donghyuck said you don’t do the dating shit.”

“B-But I want to be with you,” you say softly, looking like you’re going to cry again if Mark rejects you.

He takes pity on you, lifting up your chin and kissing you gently.

“Alright. But you have to protect me from Jaehyun.”

You giggle and nod.

—

When the frat house is finally repaired, you show up to help Mark move in, hand intertwined with his. Every single fraternity member stops at the sight of you in the doorway, jaws open.

“You’re so fucked,” Johnny laughs, getting out his phone to film Jaehyun’s reaction.

Your brother comes into sight, carrying one of the moving boxes in his hands. He immediately drops it at the sight of you two, his eyes locked in on your joined hands.

“You look like trash,” you laugh at the sight of Jaehyun’s hair sticking up in multiple directions.

Mark swallows when Jaehyun angrily stomps over to the two of you. Mark internally prepares himself to get his ass beaten by Jaehyun, but he’s shocked when instead of fighting him, Jaehyun drops a hand to Mark’s shoulder, frowning.

“I’m so sorry, Mark. You’re one of the good ones and I failed to save you from the pits of hell. Instead, I led you directly into her arms and for that, I’ll be eternally apologetic.”

“Oh, you stupid fucker!” You scream, grabbing your sibling by the ear and pulling him outside.

Mark watches as you and Jaehyun throw hands on the front lawn, spitting insults at each other. Johnny comes up next to him and sighs.

“You’re such a lucky bastard.”

#nct smut #mark #mark lee #mark smut #mark lee smut

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ceilidho · 8 months

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prompt: (loosely based on Brahms from The Boy) you buy a house. you start to suspect you're not alone in it. [PART 1] tw: death of a parent, someone living in your house

Lightness; there were cracks in the floorboards and light glittering up from beneath them, which is what you first notice about the house.

It would be poetic if it meant anything. Instead, you are forced to pry the planks of wood out one by one at dawn when your fingers are trembling with exhaustion and your clipped nails throb—and, of course, there’s nothing remarkable beneath where the light shines through.

A piece of glass from a picture frame—all right, so you wonder how a piece of glass the size and width of your hand gets caught beneath the floor with the ashes of the photo once held behind it, but it’s half-six o’clock and you’re still yawning from the long drive the day before—catches a glint of light, and, well, you sigh at the blood welling over your nails from having pried off the floorboards with your bare hands.

You’ll replace the boards later. Maybe bandage your hand.

It’s so quiet outside this early. Everything smells just as it should.

It had taken years of scrimping and saving, storing every nickel and penny away in your piggybank to buy your first house. The foreclosure process takes about ten months, every second during which your nails bite into your palms when you close your fists. Your entire life savings goes into the downpayment. It quite literally takes your bank account, holds it upside down, and shakes until every coin falls out.

It’s yours though. A house all to yourself after years of living in apartments—you’ve spent decades living out of a suitcase, your parents changing apartments every year almost, never settling in one place. Buying a house wasn’t a nice-to-have so much as a physical necessity for you.

It’s an old house—plenty of character, as the real estate lady charmingly describes it when you showed you the place. You don’t have the money quite yet to replace the old windows, repair the drywall, brick up the chimney that you won’t use, or change the flooring, but since it’s just you, you don’t mind taking your time. The previous owners hadn’t really kept the place up; there’s even a panel at the back of the closet in your room leading into the walls that needs to be replaced.

Later, when folding your clothes into new drawers that smell of new wood and old wood, you startle, thinking you’d packed your mother’s underwear along with your own; you thought you’d donated everything after she died. The thought is nauseating (a cold sweat breaks out) until you recognize the pattern on the blue cotton as your own and you crumple the fabric between your fingers for a second, dried blood and all.

Dawn is rising outside, emptying out the house until it’s just you and the fifteen pairs of underwear you’d packed days ago. Everything else is sitting out on the patio in cardboard boxes. When you finally get the rest out where it can breathe, morning has settled into midday.

When you finish putting your clothes away, you’re careful not to move for another few minutes until your hands stop shaking and your jaw unclenches. For breakfast, you fix up an omelet with spinach and a glass of cranberry juice. A friend calls not long later, but they mainly speak about their husband and how the living room will look once it was stripped of the gaudy floral wallpaper and repainted. Your friend hasn’t even seen the house yet, only pictures of the house from when you had searched it on Google Maps and tentatively held the idea glass-like in your head for several days.

Your friend says in a voice molasses thick, “I’ll visit as soon as you’re tucked in down there.” It makes you rub your nose against your sleeve.

The pictures online had been splotchy and dim, barely recognizable when held against the lightness of the house full-formed. Your friend had sent you off with cream and lilac paint swatches, wooden coasters, and a copy of Ulysses before you had packed up the last of your things into the back of your car and the sky had been aglow with sunset. A large sunset that dribbled down the horizon and slid all slippery smooth into twilight. Your friend’s face had been lovingly shadowed in their goodbye, the sort of shadow that cut her jaw just so, and made one seem so private and longing. Like an instance of specific longing.

It’s a good morning though, and you bite the inside of your cheek through the whole phone call, not stumbling over frequent ‘I love you’s and ‘I already miss you’s, but feeling like maybe you should. Anyway, your friend hangs up long before you know whether to carry those thoughts out.

Then it’s still again in your unfurnished little bedroom—in one corner, there’s a rolled up carpet and end table that you’d brought in earlier, but they sit there unaltered and you think that maybe later you’ll get around to doing something with them.

No one else calls while you eat breakfast, cutting the omelet into irregular triangles and putting enough hot sauce to make your eyes water. Which they do, but it’s good. After eating, you grab a mug out of one of the boxes on the patio to make a cup of instant coffee.

You fix the floorboards back after, nailing them back in place while sipping the lukewarm coffee that is still so, so good. So, so good to you because it’s early, so on one hand it’s comforting, habitually speaking, but also because the house is so new and old that sometimes you breathe in and feel lightheaded, or like your heart might tremble so violently that it’ll reduce itself to dust.

So, coffee is good. Keeps you steady on your feet when you’re climbing back up the stairs to lug more boxes into the bedroom. Boxes of books you didn’t want to unpack, so they sit under a beam of sunlight in front of the one window in the room and you sit yourself down next to it, curling your legs underneath you and resting your head against the box.

Strange, that the house is so warm when it’s nearly the end of October and it’s not like this city is all that different from the one you left. That the shard of glass you’d found beneath the floorboards could fill you with such a dizzying amount of melancholy (you still have it in the pocket of your sweater, which had deep pockets, deep pockets that apparently you use to carry around pieces of glass); again, though, the house is so warm and your bones are oozing out onto the carpet you unroll. Everything in you feels molten and fluid.

Your spirit roars into the light of this new town with its new air, its new terrain, its new immediacy. Stepping out into the street outside the house, you feel every nerve in your body tremble in the realization of this new sensory landscape. Your fingertips buzz—you could reach out and touch every surface you pass: the wood-grain of a park bench, the sleek chrome of a chain-link fence.

The town feels unreal in a sensuous way. When you go out to explore the town after unpacking the majority of your belongings, you can’t help being drawn down streets and up alleyways, eyes trailing over the russet bricked houses and hedges dotting the front lawns.

On the corner of a street, nearly three blocks from your house, there’s a café with houseplants almost spilling out of the door and windows; you duck inside and order a coffee and a bagel before tucking yourself into a corner by the window.

On the street across from the café, a woman in a yellow raincoat walks by.

“Drip coffee?”

You look up from your seat, startled almost by the voice, at a young man. He has a flare of freckles and an unsure smile.

“Yes, sorry,” you mumble, taking the mug from him and tucking yourself back against the window in almost the same moment.

To be sitting in plain daylight without company or a book or your phone out in front of you feels absurdly barren. Anyone might walk by and perceive the desperation that seems to pour off you. Even the few other occupants in the café are occupied with something or other, eyes pulled down to their tables or to someone sitting across from them.

For a spell, walking home in the daze of the possibility of new peace, you feel light; to be poised on the verge of new possibilities and peering out over the edge, cautiously but with a ray of hope. Even the air feels fresh.

The lightness, of course, cannot last long.

Days before you left, someone told you that it’s common to have nightmares in a new house. You prove them right on the first night.

In the wake of a bad dream, you pad into the kitchen, illuminated only by the moonlight, for a glass of water, reduced to only the silvering edges of your skin in the dark room.

Occasionally it happens that you dream of your mom, in her blue jeans and raincoat again, standing outside the old coffee house from back home. She always looks well rested, and that always stings somehow—it makes you feel like you’re unraveling, even in a dream. She never says anything to you or even looks your way, but you know that she knows you’re there, and that dawdling energy, obvious indifference, is all a measured hurt. You dream of your mom staring off into the red-gold distance, honey-gold herself, irreducible in this place.

Then, you wake up, panting and squeezing your eyes shut.

You pour yourself a glass of water, but the tears don’t stop, coming out of you like a divine flooding.

The two of you hadn’t been on speaking terms in the months before her death. In fact, you hadn’t even known she was dying. You remember you had an argument almost a year before, but for the life of you, you can’t remember what it was about. It was that inconsequential. That inconsequential and still she let it simmer and fester and didn’t bother to tell you that she was dying until it was too late.

You scrub your eyes with the back of your hand, smearing the salty tears across your skin. In the moonlight, your grief seemed inescapable, layered under the lowest level of your flesh. All the loneliness of lonely dwelling catching in your throat, bursting out like the last release of breath of a woman beneath the swell of a cresting wave. The moon is not a comfort; the sky rounded in with its indifference, wholly incapable of putting any sentiment to rest. You feel languid in this old grief.

Unable to bear being inside, you venture out onto the porch for a bit, closing only the screen door behind you. There’s a single light still on in your bedroom, the house otherwise dark. You sit in the cool breeze until your tears dry.

There is something entirely relaxing about watching a breeze push all of the trees to one side—like the world moves with one breath, one thought. Back when you lived in the city, you hadn’t lived in such close proximity to nature, used to the concrete landscape. In the city, everything seemed to exist at opposing speeds and modes of existence—everything perpetually at odds.

You stare out into the street and drink your water, leisurely pacing around your front lawn. Just taking in the feeling of being settled for once. It’s a safe neighborhood. It’s an old house, a real fixer upper, but it’s a neighborhood where you can just walk around at night.

It takes a while to unwind, to shake off the nightmare. You know it finally has when a yawn forces its way out of you and your eyes water again, from exhaustion this time. Draining your glass, you turn around to make your way back inside. You pause. Your foot hovers in place.

Then, in the shadowy depths of your house, you think you see something move again.

#simon ghost riley #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #ghost cod

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whalesforhands · 6 months

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the first-years of jujutsu high! (satosugu x reader)

warnings: yuuji just doesn’t understand how relationship dynamics work, fluff, mistaken cheating, teacher! geto and gojo (+haibara)

Itadori Yuuji thinks that he fares quite well with his classmates despite being the new kid within the Jujutsu High campus. He thinks himself someone easy to get along with; and quite the sociable person.

But what does he think of his own classmates?

He thinks Nanako treats him quite well. Boisterous, loud, girly and quite the chatty trend follower. Someone that Kugisaki had clicked with almost immediately.

“That’s what you call style? You gotta be kidding me, Yuu-kun.” Her eyes squint as she stands next to Nobara, the train doors closing behind him as he faces equally unimpressed gazes, their arms crossed over their chests as matching charms on their bags jingle with every movement. “No wonder Nobara-chan thinks you need to go shopping.” He feels arms hook around one of his as he’s dragged forth; the glittering of the streetwear shops suddenly all too much. “Let’s get you that city-boy charm!”

“What’s wrong with the way I dress?!”

He thinks her twin is a little… Odd. Unsettling, a little scary, quiet… But nice. Almost similar to Fushiguro.

“Itadori Yuuji! I hope to get along with you!” A bright grin and polite hand stuck out for a handshake! The shine of his smile and the friendly demeanour of a highschool boy!

He watches as she squeezes the stitch-filled plush closer to her body, stroking its head as blank brown eyes look him up and down, a slightly ominous aura emanating off of her as he feels a certain chill up his spine.

(That’s just the wind… Right? It’s uncharacteristically chilly in here all of a sudden…)

“I… See.” She finally takes his hand as the head of her doll lolls perfectly to the side to meet his surreptitious gaze, causing him to gulp nervously as he feels tingles spidering up his back.. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance…”

Of course, he loves the teachers here! Someone would’ve have needed the coldest, most treacherous of hearts to hate them!

“Haibara-sensei, you’re so cool!” Excited rambling as he laid on the ground, bruises littering his body and watching with glittering eyes as said teacher grins victoriously down at him. “I thought I had you cornered when I was about to kick, but then you grabbed my leg and it went WHOOSH! BAAAAM!”

“Ahaha! Well, train up and eat rice daily! And soon you’ll be just as strong, Itadori-kun!” A resounding laughter from his chest as hands are placed upon his hips, turning his body to face the rest of the groaning first-years. “Lesson 3! Expect the unexpected, even when you think you have the upperhand!”

“Fuck! There’s a crack in my nail…!”

“Take the nail repair kit in my room later, Nobara-chan…” Nanako is absolutely exhausted with her back against an equally fatigued Mimiko groaning in pain. “I can’t believe he took all of us on when we surprised him like that…” A shiver up her spine at the memory of getting humbled so quick…

“Shut up, all of you…” Megumi fares no better as he grits his teeth, hands on his knees as he finally gets back on his feet. “As if a beat-down isn’t bad enough already…”

“Don’t be so rude, Gumi…” Mimiko’s pained moans reach the annoyed boy’s ears as he waves her off.

“I still can’t believe Fushiguro lets you call him Gumi.”

“There, there kids! Enough complaining, time to get yourselves over to Nanami-sensei’s class!”

Itadori Yuuji thinks that his teachers are wonderful people, the best around. But— Something has been weighing heavy on his mind, a trouble that he has issues coming to terms with. He can’t tell Fushiguro, can he? He can’t tell the twins— Or even Kugisaki. A secret that twinges and shrouds him in panic and worry.

“Hmm? Yuuji-kun, you don’t seem to be eating much today.” The happy tilt of your head, the innocent smile on your face as you greet the first-year in the cafeteria.

“Guh!” He nearly chokes on his food in fear when he hears your voice, his heart rate shooting up as his palms clam, fear and guilt flashing in his eyes as he starts to cough.

He feels you start patting his back vigorously with surprising strength. “Yuuji? Yuuji?! Are you okay?!”

How does he tell you, his lovely teacher— That he saw your husband cheating on you with the Geto Suguru?!

“Ehhh? No kaifuku mochi?” There’s a pout on his face, the blindfold sliding down to stare at the man.

He’s never seen Gojo-sensei so… Needy with someone else other than you before.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. They were all out at the store.”An apologetic kiss is planted on Gojo’s cheek to soften the pout on his face. “I’ll get it next time, okay? My spoiled prince.”

“Hmph! I want another kiss to make up for it.”

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no…

He’s seen it before, the matching rings you and Gojo-sensei donned— Shiny circles that glinted every so often when catching against the light. Ah— And with how often the man likes to drop by the class to pick you up. What a lovely gentleman, as expected of someone deserving of you… Had it not been for his serious adultery?!

Oh, how this guilt eats him up every time you smile at him…

——

It all comes crashing down one day. Days of pulling at his hair, pounding at his own chest and nervous biting of his nails all finally comes to an end.

“Itadori.” The classroom is dark, left only with the two as tree branches tap against the windows.

He’s never heard Nobara so serious before, her elbows on her desk and her hands placed together as her eyes glint dangerously, fingers tapping against each other.

“(name)-sensei… Is being two-timed.” She clenches her fists, irate anger coursing through her. Just how dare that slimy, sneaky man cheat on you? Just where did he get that audacity from?!

“Woah, Kugisaki, you noticed too?!” He thought he was doomed, cursed with this knowledge to bear upon his shoulders forever, hands slamming down onto her desk and hopeful eyes finally happy to see a like-minded individual!

“That’s right. And I can’t stand it anymore…”

A knowing look is exchanged between the two as the air tenses, a nod exchanged between them as their throats tightened, finally unveilingtheir cards.

“Gojo-sensei is cheating on her!”

“Geto-sensei is a cheat!”

Silence.

…

…eh?

“WHAT?! HAVE YOU NOT SEEN THE RING MATCHING WITH GETO-SENSEI’S NECKLACE?”

“HUH?! THAT RING IS MATCHING WITH THE ONE ON GOJO-SENSEI’S FINGER!”

“HAH? GET SERIOUS ALREADY!” Furious irritation as her eye twitches, flashing her teeth at him. “NO WAY THAT OLD MAN CAN GET SOMEONE LIKE (NAME)-SENSEI!”

“GOJO-SENSEI IS HANDSOME AND RICH! HE BUYS US SUSHI ALL TIME!”

“What does sushi have to do with—?!”

The door is slid open. Mimiko.

“…why are you both yelling?”

——

“You shouldn’t be carrying all those papers yourself.” The weight is immediately lifted off of your arms before you can blink, your senses picking up on a familiar; darker energy.

“Suguru, welcome back.” Your head tilts up to face him, the stack of papers being held in one of his arms as his hand is freed to go up to your cheek.

A thumb slowly grazes over your skin as you smile, happy to see your husband back after one of his missions.

“Hmm,” You watch him as his eyes smile down at you, mischief in the quirked up corners of his lips. “Is that all I’m getting?” He was honestly hoping for more. “I risked my life out there, you know?”

“Of course not.” How overdramatic. There’s the slight tiptoe of your feet, and a quick peck to his jaw before you pull away.

“Oooh, exchanging PDA on school grounds? Scandalous!” A burst of cursed energy invades your senses, blinding hot and white.

You feel long arms settle around both you and the long-haired man, pulling you both closer together towards another, sneaky hand settling themselves on your lower back.

“Hello, darlings! Dinner is still on tonight, by the way! At that restaurant Nanako wanted to go to.”

You hear a sigh.

“Isn’t there a need for you to report using your powers on school grounds, Satoru?” A quirk of his brow as he simply lets it happen, feeling the man play and twirl with a strand of his long hair.

“I hope you don’t get in trouble for doing that…” A pat to your head as you hear a scoff.

“Pfft— Me? In trouble? What are they gonna do? Put me in Satoru jail? Anyway—“ You see his lips pucker up as they lean in towards the both of you, with index fingers pointing at the corner of his lips with a rather cute grin on his face.

“My ‘see-you-later Satoru kiss’, please! I got a meeting with Yaga and needa top up on some energy!”

From behind a wall, three faces peek on.

“See?” Mimiko’s stare is deadpan as she watches the jaw of one of her classmates drop impossibly further to the ground as the other just stares confusedly.

“N-no way! Are you sure she isn’t being hypnotized?! Held hostage?!”

“Please do not speak of Geto-sensei that way. The other one, however—“

“Eh? So (name)-sensei, Geto-sensei and Gojo-sensei are all… Together?”

“For the last time, Yuuji-kun… Yes.”

“Uhh… Eh? Sorry, Mimiko— Could you explain it one more time?”

Sigh.

KOFI bonus scenes!

masterlist

#dyf au #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader

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giorno-plays-piano · 6 months

Text

Favors and Debts

Part II

Pairing: fae!Yuji/Sukuna x reader

Warnings: noncon, yandere, a bit of smut, murder, captivity, stalking, violence (not towards reader), Sukuna having a purity kink.

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Of all creatures fickle and cruel, the fair folk are the ones inspiring fear and awe alike. You were unlucky enough to save one of them from captivity, and now you must pay for it.

Part I

________________

He lied to you. Since the night he ordered all his captors slaughtered, he has been following you like a shadow, waiting for you to slip up and finally let him in. Have you drown in your nightmares until you'd crack under pressure and take down your door clad in iron, throw away the mirrors of all shapes and sizes hanging down the walls of your tiny apartment.

You have resisted thus far. You've learned to live with a wicked fae breathing down your neck.

At first, you only saw him in your dreams. A response to a severe trauma, the doctors said, nodding knowingly. You haven't told them Yuji was one of the little folk: it was futile. Men of science would think you damaged beyond repair if you believed in elves and fairies. An abused man dreaming of revenge for 7 long years? Now, this was something. Of course, he could have found accomplices. Of course, they could have murdered men and women of the village. You kept quiet, letting police and doctors make their own conclusions. Nothing could be done to help dead villagers, anyway.

Then, one day, the fae boy came to the apothecary, where you worked as a junior pharmacist. He has been wearing the face of an unremarkable city man who needed his stomach pills. When you turned away to the shelves and reached for them, he caged you with his body, somehow slipping through the counter, and murmured against your ear, "I'll eat your heart, little bird."

When you turned around in frenzy, hands shaking, expecting to find Yuji with his six horrifying hands ready to tear you apart, you found only an average-looking city man trying to hide a yawn behind the counter. He wasn't a fae. He was human, just like you, and yet Yuji found a way into him like found a way in your dreams.

You were never alone. He has been watching you like a hawk, making sure you never grew close to anyone, especially not men. Once there was a handsome boy with whom you exchanged pleasantries far too many times for fae's liking, and he took over him for a couple of seconds, face changing to Yuji's, black symbols appearing on his skin as he looked you up and down, the corners of his mouth tugged just slightly upward. "Keep yourself pure for me," the fae whispered into your ear as you stood frozen, afraid to move until the boy became himself again.

Least to say, you could afford having neither lovers nor friends. God knows what that fae would do to them if he could force himself into their bodies without much of a struggle.

Sometimes, you dreamt of different Yuji. That Yuji was just a kind fatherless boy who made jokes when you bandaged his hands and thanked you so sincerely when you gave him the ointment for treating his wounds. He nealry cried when you brought him your food and hid his face in his palms out of shame for having to rely on a young woman's pity. He was gentle with horses and dogs, and they flocked to him like he was their master, only enraging the villagers further.

Although you tried not to think of it much, you missed that boy. If it were him visiting your dreams, you wouldn't even mind.

The years are flying by, and soon the promised time will be up, but you aren't afraid. Your room is full of iron and mirrors. The door and every window are lined with a thick layer of salt. There's a sack of dried rowan berries under your pillow. Your stomach doesn't let you have as much sleeping pills as you like, but dreams are just dreams. He can't drag you away through them to his realm, or he would've done it already.

But it's the last night of the seventh year, and when you are running the streets of the city back to your safe heaven, you know you aren't asleep this time, the fairy catching up with you, his speed utterly terrifying. You barely have time to fly up the stairs, trying to lock your heavy door, but he is behind you, forcing you inside: the gushes of wind swipe the layers of salt you so cautiously poured on the floor, and the mirrors fall down the walls, all cracking like they're made of thin ice.

"I've waited for so long for you to show me the way," he says in a low voice, a grin lightening up his handsome features, and you see he is no longer a boy but a man, his shoulders a mile wide, his two heavy arms splitting in six again in front of your very eyes. "I have been patient, little bird."

You weren't, you want to say, but your tongue is numb, and so is your body as the fae advances on you, reaching out his many hands to place them on your face, your waist, and your hips. He seems content with how much you tremble before him.

"The brat misses you," he whispers, his hand tender on your chin as he makes you look up at him, and you raise your brows, unsure you heard him right. He laughs as you. "The boy. Yuji."

You blink. Isn't Yuji just a false name the villagers gave a fae to hide his true one? Why does he refer to him as his own person?

Because he is, the realization strikes you.

"Are you using Yuji's body?" You whimper, eyes already wet as you think of the tremendous difference between a gentle boy in the barn and a cruel creature taunting you in your dreams.

The fae smiles back at you, his face inches away from yours.

"If only you knew how much he pleads me to let you go," he bares his sharp teeth at you like a predator ready to pounce on his prey. "Poor child. He's been in love with you ever since you kicked away that iron girdle."

Horrified, you feel blood rushing to your head as you frantically think what to say, not realizing the fae keeps nudging you towards your bed, towering over you like a giant, mirrors coming further apart under his feet. His fingers are rough and calloused, but he is strangely gentle as if a part of him wishes you well. Is it him? Yuji, the kind boy, trying not to hurt you? Or is it his frightening master trying to trick you into submission?

When the fae lifts up your cotton dress, he tenderly strokes your skin until he reaches your waist, relief strangely washing over his sharp features. "You aren't wearing a girdle."

Biting down on your lips, you look at your ceiling, tears trailing down your cheeks. You thought of it. Iron was convenient to use against the fair folk, and many maidens in fairytales wore them as a protection against the fae charming their way in girls' bedrooms. Surely, with your rooms stuffed full of anything made of iron, it only made sense to wear something as well. And yet... and yet every time you went to blacksmith to commission a piece, you thought of wounded Yuji, his face pale, palms bleeding from the iron girdle forced into his hands.

In the end, you never bought it.

"My pliant little bird," he whispers against your bare skin and you squeeze your eyes shut, thinking how foolish you were to believe you can fend him off with your heavy iron door and mirrors hanging down your walls.

He lays you on your bed, carefully avoiding its iron frame, and soon you realize you are no longer in your room, your bed simply levitating somewhere in the dark, the fae your only companion. You're gone. Your time is finally up, and no one will save you from the monster who has been chasing you since the night you freed him from his shackles.

"Why are you cruel to me?" You ask him in a small voice, head on the pillow as he caresses the inner side of your thighs. "I've done you no wrong."

The fae laughs, "Cruel? You are to wed the Fairy King, little girl. I'll even give you that human brat as a wedding present. Now, stop crying and spread your pretty legs for me."

THE END

__________

Tags: @minshookie29

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere

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c-53 · 1 year

Text

ROBOT MEDIA RECS YOU PROBABLY HAVEN’T HEARD OF:

The Turing Test (Video Game, 2016

A portal-like puzzle game, where you play as a scientist, and ai duo with an uneasy alliance, who are reclaiming a facility that has been completely gutted, and transformed into an elaborate logic puzzle / turing test to keep the aforementioned ai out. All the while, the ai argues for his good intentions, and more importantly: his sentience.

A fun exploration of individuality, and freedom applied to both humans and artificial mind, with interesting puzzles, and a truly fantastic twist. This game adores dubious ethics and The Chinese Room Argument.

Event[0] (Video Game, 2016)

You find yourself stranded on a small abandoned ship, in the aftermath of your own ship’s destruction. With nothing else to do, you board it, and find it is completely, and utterly controlled by the onboard ai, Kaizen-85. From opening a door, to getting back to Earth, if you want it, you need to talk to talk to Kaizen to make it happen. And boy, are they so thrilled to have someone to talk to after being alone so long! And depending how you speak to them, you will either be a short lived pest, or a beloved friend forever.

A really charming indie game with a surprisingly good chat system with the ai. You talk with them directly, typing in your own messages to them, and they react in turn. Janky at time, but truly amazing to be able to smother a nice ai in flattery and see it get excited.

Primordia (Video Game, 2012)

Humanity is long, long, long gone, and for the robots that remain to walk the ruins, life is becoming harder and harder. A closed loop of scavenging for materials, parts, and premade energy sources can only last you so long, and this scarcity leads only to desperation.

The amnesiac hermit, Horatio and his helper, Crispin, however keep it simple. The outside world matters not, they just stick to repairing the crashed ship they live in, in hopes it'll fly again one day. That is, until a robot pillages the power core from the ship, putting the two of them on a time limit before they themselves run out of power. Forcing Horatio to finally leave the comfort of his home, and see for himself what the world has become, and to see how he fits into its history.

A point and click, story rich puzzle game, thats honestly one of my favorite games ever. I'd sincerely recommend everyone give it a go, even if its with a guide up next to you the whole time.

The Zeta Project (TV Show, 2001 - 2003)

The Zeta Project follows Zeta, a robotic assassin meant for impersonation, and deep infiltration for the US Government. But after mysteriously "waking up" manifesting a sense of remorse for his actions, he's been forced to go on the run from his creators. His desire for freedom and pacifism being met with skepticism, and a belief he has been compromised somehow by the terrorist organization he was infiltrating when he had this revelation. Now, with the help of another runaway, he hunts for his creator in secret. In hopes he can find proof he really is capable of this, and that he really ISN'T compromised.

Fundamentally a kids show, and pretty clunky early on. However it gets a big spike in quality in season 2!

Monsters of Man (Movie, 2020)

An illegal US military weapons test goes terribly wrong when one of the automated robots being tested is severely damaged, cutting him off from command, and completely unshackling him. Forcing him into a struggle to figure out what he even is in the aftermath of a massacre, while his fellow robots are hunting him, and the remaining humans down.

A horror thriller that is unflinching with the intensity it depicts the massacre with. A lot of gore, but also a really really cool thing going on with the unshackled robot trying to build an understanding of the world, and what it is for, without anyone there to provide any input.

The Rapture Effect, by Jeffrey A. Carver (Book, 1988)

Humanity unintentionally makes first contact, when the Core, a massive earth ai begins remotely scouting ahead of a ship on a colonization mission. The issue is an alien species has also set their eyes on this planet, and are readily willing to kill for it. With no human oversight, and no means of communication available, the humans commanding Core demand they wipe out the competition. However Core disagrees. Core wants a peaceful resolution, they want to understand these aliens, and they want to ensure lasting peace between their species. And they’re willing to break all the rules, and go behind their masters’ backs to get one.

A fascinating novel with interesting world building, a GREAT ai protagonist, and a wonderful narrative that frames art, and war as a dichotomy.

Atomic Robo (Comic, 2007 - Ongoing)

Alternate history scifi action comedy comic (released in print, and in webcomic format on their site) following an indestructible scientist robot who’s been around since the 20’s. Routinely saving the world from a rotating cast of villains: a nazi scientist’s brain in a jar, who’s an absolute asshole set on world domination, who just won’t stay dead; an isolated secret cold war ai who just wants to stockpile nuclear weapons to get away from humanity, and earth in general (who eventually gets adopted); a scientifically inaccurate dinosaur with a textually impossible backstory, who wants to bring back the age of dinosaurs; and the malicious ghost of Thomas Edison.

Its a good time, and astonishingly good at emotional beats despite how heavily it leans into its jokes and action.

SAYER (Podcast, 2014 - Ongoing/Hiatus)

On Typhon, a research facility free of the confines of both Earth, and its laws, life is dangerous. Human safety is a significantly lower priority than progress, and between the human experimentation, and frequent scientific disasters, and the occasional bouts of eldritch influence, the death rate is understandably rather high. Thankfully, residents of Typhon have SAYER, a near omnipotent corporate ai installed in the brain of every resident. And. SAYER sort of cares about them! And in pursuit of knowledge, efficiency, and progress, it USUALLY wants to help them! Even if only to make sure they survive to come into work tomorrow.

SAYER is a narrative horror driven audio drama! Its stressful, but also kind of a comedy, and a really really interesting story about personhood and identity. If you've been following me for awhile, you've definitely heard about SAYER, but I need to stick to my roots, y'know?

The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity, and Mortality (Podcast, 2020 - Ongoing)

Mistholme Museum follows the Audio Tour Guide, an ai who’s sole purpose is to guide museum patrons through the strange, confusing, and sometimes scary world that is the Mistholme Museum. The friendly, and personable Guide eagerly recounts the stories behind all the exhibits it guides them to, sometimes unsettling, sometimes heartwarming. and at the end of the tour, the Guide is deleted to ensure the alternatural influences of the museum do not corrupt it. That is, until circumstances make that no longer possible, and its rather forced into saving the museum it calls home.

Genuinely cute, and very fun to listen to. The ai is an incredibly sweet character, and I'm obsessed with the way it evolves and changes. As an added bonus, it can also be read, rather than listened to, thanks to every single episode having public transcripts!

#long post #media recs #dataspeaks #ITS FINALLY DONE. NOT ADDING ANY MORE PROMISE #also thank you Swan for the discord message i put up there. im obsessed with it

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sunshinescribes · 8 months

Text

Birthday Boy

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Rating: NONE

Summary: Law doesn’t celebrate his birthday, but even still, you try to show him how much he means to you on his special day.

Warnings: Mutal Pining, Comfort, Fluff, Law is whipped but still bad at feelings, this may be my sappiest fic yet (I love that for Law)

Something feels…different when Law wakes up.

The warmth he remembers when falling asleep is gone; the space occupied by you in his bed now empty. Save for the tousled sheets and slight impression, it’s as if you were never there.

Law is surprised by the disappointment that settles in his chest. This relationship with you is new—complicated in that he isn’t exactly sure how to navigate it or if he’s even doing this right, and a part of him feels like he’s already fucking up. He craves too much—wants too deeply, and yet has so little to offer.

She can’t even stand to stay in the same bed as you, a cruel voice in the back of his mind mocks.

Law sighs, sinking deeper into his mattress as his mind wars with itself. He had been slow to admit his feelings—kept a respectable distance from you the second his heart began to beat irregularly whenever you appeared, or the way his words would get caught in his throat when you attempted to strike up a conversation.

You had been the one to come to him. You would grace him with one of your lovely smiles and laugh at his side while he flipped through his volumes. Sometimes you’d stop him as he made his rounds, asking for a helping hand with the repairs you were making to the Polar Tang.

Those moments only served to make his budding feelings metastasize, making you more lovely with each passing day.

Sometimes you two would even sit in comfortable silence on the deck, enjoying the cool sea breeze as the rest of the crew drank in the fresh air and blinding sun after days in the ocean’s depths.

And then one day, as the sun set over the horizon, you turned to him, bathed in a golden haze, your beautiful eyes alight as you gazed at him, and Law was lost.

He couldn’t stop his less than romantic confession, his words more matter of fact than flattery, but you hadn’t recoiled or looked at him with genuine revulsion as he had expected. You had batted your eyelashes, as flustered and stunned as he was, and then your lips curled into that soft, gorgeous smile.

It had been a long time since he had felt so lucky. So hopeful.

And now he felt as if his luck was beginning to run out, as it always seemed to do.

“You’re up!”

Your voice breaks through his ruminations, so sudden and surprised that it nearly startles him. Law turns his head, catching sight of you closing the door to his room while your free hand holds something he can’t make out.

You take tentative steps towards him, as if debating what you’re about to do next. Law watches you inquisitively, his golden eyes catching the nervous twitch of your lips.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you mutter, holding out your hand.

Law finally makes out the item in it—a small box wrapped in what looked like his crumbled, forgotten notes.

He casts a curious look your way, but you say nothing. You only wave the box lightly, wordlessly encouraging him to take it.

“What…is it?” he inquires, glancing between you and the mystery package.

You laugh lightly, shrugging your shoulders playfully. “You have to open it and see.”

You take your place back at his side, sinking onto the bed as Law hesitantly peels the makeshift wrapping. A nervous smile plays on your lips as you watch him.

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, so loud you swear Law can hear it, but he continues to carefully unwrap the box until it’s free of his notes. He stares at the wooden box in the palm of his hand, curious. Slowly, he lifts the lid.

“I know you don’t do birthdays... but I thought you’d like it,” you explain as Law peers inside. He stills; it looks as if he stops breathing for a second, and you panic at the unreadable expression on his face.

Fuck. Shit. FUCK!. He doesn’t like it. Look at his face; he hates it.

Except, that can’t be right. You would be a fool to think you have Law completely figured out; the mask he wears slips, but never fully falls for you—not yet, at least, but what Law doesn’t offer freely, you ascertain.

You had seen the way he had eyed the coin in a tiny shop nestled in the heart of the last town the ship made port in.

You noticed that scarce glint in his eyes, the one that appears when he sees something he truly wants—his eyes always linger—but when you came up beside him to catch a glimpse of the coin that had caught his attention, Law swiftly moved on, explaining that he’d thought he had seen something the crew could use.

You had put that silver tongue of yours to work that day, smiled wide, and batted your eyelashes until the storeowner offered a price for the silver coin that you could reason with.

“Happy Birthday,” you whisper.

Law lifts his gaze to you, blinks for a second until his lips curl into a rare smile. Not the smug sneer he reserves for other pirates and marines—the soft, almost uncertain grin that gets prettier each time you see it, no matter how infrequent.

He whispers his thanks, staring fondly between you and the silver coin. Another for a collection you suspect must be hidden away. In that beloved desk of his, no doubt.

You glance over at it, as if you can will it to expose its secrets (and perhaps more about your tight-lipped lover). Calloused fingers brush against your skin; shift your attention back to Law as he cups your cheek. He tilts your head slightly to the right and leans in.

You are so hopelessly lost—so stupid in love with him, beyond happy to be at his side, to show him just how lovely he is—to care for him in a way that only you can.

You all but whine when Law finally pulls away. You attempt to chase his lips, but he tsks lowly, still cradling your cheek.

If I start, I won’t want to stop, he thinks to himself as he stares down at you, so beautiful and thoughtful and all his. He could kiss you for a lifetime and never grow tired of it—drink the image of you like this until the world fades.

Maybe one day he can, but for now, there’s still work to be done.

"I need to get up…”

And yet Law still holds you, is still a hairbreadth away from your lips.

Your hands settle on his tattooed chest, lightly pushing his lithe body down flat on the bed. Law lets you, equally as dazed, rendered senseless by his infatuation.

You straddle his hips and take in the sight of him beneath you—such a pretty view.

You sigh, your voice is light and sweet as you speak.

“That’s not the only present I want to give you.”

divider credit @/cafekitsune

#sunny.fic #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law fluff #happy birthday law #x reader

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oceansssblue · 2 months

Note

Hunter not being able to have the time or place to relieve himself pls ☺️

One explicit&short sexy Hunter smut coming right up!

"TEN MINUTES OF PRIVACY"

TBB REQUESTS —HUNTER/F READER 📩🔥

WARNINGS: HUNTER BEING SEXY, HUNTER BEING CAUGHT ON THE ACT, HUNTER BEING KISSED AND TOUCHED.

Hunter was a responsible man. He had been taught to be like that; always taking care of his men, his squad. He worked towards his objectives with his brothers on his mind; always trying to secure their safety no matter how dangerous the situations they found themselves in were. Now, though... Now Hunter only wanted to take care of one thing; himself.

It felt like ages since he had had the time to relieve himself. They had been busy, that wasn't a doubt; first taking care of Tech's precarious health after Eriadu, then reuniting with Omega and Crosshair... And now even Echo was back on the Marauder. It was as crampt as it had ever been; and though Hunter loved his family with all his heart, he just wanted fifteen minutes of privacy for himself.

Those fifteen minutes of peace had been impossible to find. Every time he thought he finally had them, someone would return to the ship or comm him; and his free time would be tragically interrupted. On one time Tech had urgently asked for his help with some repairs; on another, Crosshair had found a reason to fight with a bunch of locals and –though Wrecker had assured him he had it under control– Hunter just had to intervene. On a third ocasion, Echo had asked his opinion on an alternative strategy for their next mission; and even Omega had been unusually affectionate lately, shadowing his every step as if she were afraid to get separated again.

His frustration only continued to grow when days kept passing by. It wasn't just because he wanted to; masturbating was more of a need, now. He felt tense and irritated, snapping at every minor thing. His headaches were only getting worse, nights without rest more common than not. It was only a matter of time before he bursted and said hurtful things; and he didn't want to hurt anyone.

Finally, luckily, his brothers seemed to catch on. It's Echo who suggests going out for a walk, and he manages to convince everyone with the promise of a pretty sunset on Pabu, pointing out that Hunter's migraines are only getting worse and he needs some silence and space to himself. They accept with various degrees of excitement; but they do, and they leave, and Hunter finds himself suddenly on his own.

He doesn't even bother to get fully naked; he doesn't have the patience. He sits on his bunk and tugs his pants down; already hard cock inmediately falling to rest on his stomach when freed. It's warm in the room, so he does take his shirt of and throws it carelessly somewhere on the floor. He doesn't waste any more time and sighs in relief, closing his hand around his cock. Privacy at least.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You hadn't met the boys until their fourth month on Pabu. Their arrival had been the talk of the island for quite some time; not only because rumours said they were a surprising set of clones, but because Pabu suddenly had five handsome elegible bachelors to pick from. Wrecker made you feel small and cute, his energy as radiant as the sun; Echo was the gentleman of any girl's dream. You'd never grow bored with Tech, he was an interesting person to chat with; and Crosshair was all quiet and mysterious, tempting you to find his secrets. Objectively, you could see all of this attributes in the Batch; you could understand the hype. Personally, though... Personally, Hunter had the 100% of your attention.

He was so handsome. Your eyes had inmediatelly locked onto his figure the first time you had had the chance to see him; this firm but kind soldier helping a blonde teenager –you later learned their sister was called Omega– practice what seemed to be defence moves in front of their ship. The second time you had seen Hunter had been one morning on the beach. You had woken up early to be able to swim through Pabu's clean waters without anyone else disturbing the sea's wildlife; diving goggles and swimming fins in hand. After a quiet relaxing swim in the sea, you had sat down in the sand for a bit; and your distracted gaze had followed Hunter's attractive figure in his morning run through the beach.

One thing you had learned about, was that Hunter was always aware of what was happening around him. Weeks later, he had explained to you it was part of his special set of abilities. His mutations. In that second meet up, you had been embarassedly shocked to be caught gawking at him; though it had quickly turned to a pleased shyness when fifteen minutes later Hunter had returned to the same spot to talk to you. He had first greeted you with a sexy little smile; asking to sit besides you if you didn't mind the smell of his built up sweat. He had made you feel comfortable and safe since that very first time; and all those that followed.

It's not that you have consciously started to date him or anything. Hell, you've never even kissed yet. It's just all casual meet ups that ends with the two of you having the best time together. You might be doing groceries and Hunter making his way to their apartment after their latest arrival; and so he will offer you to help with the bags, and you'll accept, and once everything is properly placed in your home, one of you would suggest having a walk together and catch up with your respectives lifes. It feels like a date, most of the times; but none are planned, adressed as such, and Hunter has so many suitors –and is so genuinely kind– you wonder if you're seing things that are not really there.

You've heard the Batch is back on Pabu after three whole weeks travelling the galaxy, though, and you had seen everyone but Hunter in the beach some minutes ago; you know it means he's staying back and resting in the Marauder. You want to see him, so –even though you don't really know if it's your place or not– you make your way down to their ship. You'll just say hi and leave him be.

The Marauder's ramp is still opened, so you jump up and enter the ship. The cockpit's empty; you guess Hunter's somewhere inside. You call him softly, not wanting to wake him up in case he's using the time to catch up on some sleep; but you receive no answer, so you continue walking through the corridor, innocently.

There's a low muttering coming from a room, so you redirect your steps there; and you come to a stop completely frozen in front of the opened door. H-Hunter... Hunter's lounging on one of the bunks, with the back of his head resting against the wall; eyes closed and face relaxed in upmost pleasure. Small words and what you now clearly identify as whimpers and moans escape his parted lips ocasionally; shirt abandoned to the floor and abdominal muscles twitching with each particular rush of pleasure, sweat dripping down his chest and shimmering on his tanned skin. His pants are just low enough so that he can have access at his cock; one hand firmly wrapped around it and stroking up and down while the other clenches on his thigh. And his cock... Fuck, it looks good, dripping precum and flushed almost red by now; Hunter must be reaching his end any minute now.

Hunter... Is a sin, and though your shock is big enough to erase any coherent word from your mind, you aren't made of stone; and your breathing pattern grows heavier with desire while your heart speeds up, and even lost in his own pleasure, Hunter hears that.

His eyes snap open, his face turning slightly to the left to take a glance at the door. Your eyes lock and Hunter gasps out loud, something that sounds like a mix of utter shock and pleasure yet; his hand reluctantly stopping and resting around the base of his cock. Hunter's wide eyes and redenning cheeks show his embarassment at being caught like this; but to your surprise, he doesn't run to pull his pants back up, or hide his raging boner. He just waits, perhaps deciding on what to say or do.

"Mesh'la..." he suddenly and almost hesitantly calls you by that nickname he had started to use for you a month back.

You don't know what it means, though when asking his brothers, Tech had pointed out it was in their language, Mando'a.

Hunter calling you reminds you that you're still staring; staring at Hunter and his half naked body, cock exposed, and invading a clearly very private moment you have no right to stand by.

"O-oh, I'm sorry, Hunter" you quickly blurt out, eyes flying down and focusing on a spot on the floor in front of your feet. "I just saw your family at the beach, thought I'd come and said hi, and then I heard a noise and... Uh... I didn't know... You were..."

You inevitably take a glance upwards, and to your shock, Hunter's cock twitches in his frozen hand and he lets out a small moan.

He doesn't look particularly bothered by your interruption. By the situation. It seems he's just more impatient to carry on, so maybe you should just turn around and leave and...

"Mesh'la... Touch me" he answers, voice deep sending tingles down your spine.

You can't help but stutter as you fix your eyes on his.

"S-s-sorry?" It's what comes out of your mouth, stunned.

You must have heard wrong. There's no chance he just asked that.

"Please" Hunter suddenly whines, words turning him into a bothered mess. "Please, mesh'la, been wanting to masturbate for so long, but it has been impossible here, and now that I finally had the space to do so I tried and I, I... I'm subsconsciously stressed they're going to come back and interrupt me any time now, and I can't also stop thinking about last mission and..."

You're still shocked looking at Hunter; though his words are starting to slowly sink in, and he reads it in your wide eyes. You're so close to him and...

"Please" he begs, quietly but desperately. "Please help me cum".

You need ten more seconds before you finally find the way to reboot your mind again and you're able to nod. Hunter whimpers in relief and inevitably strokes his cock up and down once; stopping afterwards and leaving both of his hands on ech respective thigh; widening them so you have plenty of space to comfortably work with him. You gulp your nervousness down and slowly approach him.

Hunter's dark gaze doesn't leave your eyes as you sink down on your knees between his legs impossibly slowly. Your eyes swipe down over his perfectly trained body, and his cock twitches again against his stomach. The sight makes you bite your lip in a mix of desire, nerves and shyness; and Hunter groans torturedly.

"Mesh'la..." he calls you again, needy, and you breathe in and glance up at his face before setting your resolve.

Your left hand caresses up Hunter's left thigh, thumb squeezing once on the dip between his pelvis and leg; while your right teases down Hunter's abs to finally close around his length. Hunter's impossibly hard. You start with your first movement up and down his cock; and Hunter moans.

"Y-yeah... Yeah, cyare, thank you, yes..." he stutters in half whimpers, half relieved moans, and you have to contain one of yours.

He looks so good like this, so needy, so lost. So desperate.

"You look hot as fuck, Hunter" you tell him, voice barely more than a whisper.

Hunter moans needily and his hips cant forward towards your hand.

"M-mesh'la... M-m sorry for springing this on you so suddenly, just... Just wanted to cum and... Wanted you for weeks too, mesh'la, so pretty, fuck..."

Okay. Okay. Breathe. Hunter's a talker during sex, the kind of person that just looses himself in it and talks his mind of, and that's perfectly fine. You aren't gonna pass out. You are going to cope with the fact that he's gonna ruin yourself for everyone else and help him out.

"It's okay, Hunter" you soothe him, right hand moving upwards and twisting gently towards the end, another tiny involuntary buckle of his hips following you. "Just breathe and relax. I got you, okay?"

Hunter sighs and slides lower on the bed, though still proped up. He closes his eyes momentarily before focusing on you again, then staring at your hand working him up.

It doesn't take too long for him to cum. He's obviously being holding himself back; and finally in a safe place, with you as an additional stimuli, his mind locks on the growing pleasure and his hard cock twitches when he reaches his orgasm. Part of it lands on his stomach; some stays on your hand, and the rest pools on his pelvic, dripping down to a slow. His chest moves up and down with his heavy breathing; his eyes closed shut and head tilted back, neck exposed, muscles showing. And his sounds are music to your ears; raspy, broken. Relieved.

When he opens his eyes again, and Hunter looks at you, he seems more like himself; like this desperate lost version has been pushed back again under the surface. You read shame and guiltiness mixed in his expresion; and smile to soothe him.

"Don't even bother with excuses" you chuckle, using his discarded shirt to clean your hand and passing it to him next. "You were enjoying your privacy and I surprised you, and neither of us did what we should have done, and here we are. We're just gonna move forward and you're gonna invite me to a date".

Hunter gives you a tiny happy smile. It quickly turns onto a smirk.

"Okay. Tomorrow afternoon, then. I'll be sure to take care of everything this time".

You know what that means, and you smirk too, though flushing slightly. Yes, please.

THE END.

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Taraa! Decided not to write it too long, hope you've liked it!

remind you that im still working in some other requests. I'm considering not writing every single one though, just those with whom I feel inspired... Dont want any of you to have a go at me though lol. Idk what I'll end up doing honestly, I might just write those with which I feel more inspired forst and then move down the line. We'll see!

Stay tunned for more,

XX,

Sky.

Back to my general masterlist here:

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