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libraryofgage · 8 months

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Pirate/Mermaid Steddie One

There is way more mermaid culture world-building than I intended, but that's the fun part lmao

This part discusses injuries, has a mention of mutilation in passing, and involves stitching up a large wound. Nothing is graphic, but there are some descriptions of pain

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future parts!

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't

----

There were a few things Eddie expected from this raid. Gold, of course. Supplies like food, obviously. Some new weapons, surely.

A fucking mermaid? Nowhere near that list of expected things.

And yet, here he stands in the doorway of the raided ship captain's cabin, caught in a staring contest with a merman that's definitely seen better days.

He's stuck in a tiny wooden tub, his tail forced against his chest as the rest of it flops over the edge and trails the floor. His blue-and-green with inexplicable hints of orange scales are dull, too dull, and Eddie is trying really hard to control the sheer rage he feels at the jagged cut that drags down the middle of the tail and through the fin at the bottom. The edges of the wound have crusted over, but it still looks painful, and Eddie knows it was meant to keep the merman from using his tail to escape.

Eddie takes a step into the cabin, ready to just scoop the merman up and take him back to his ship. But he stops when the merman tenses, his entire body somehow becoming more rigid. His hands on the edge of the tub tighten, his sharp nails digging into the slowly rotting wood. He's staring at Eddie like he's some new threat, which seriously is not gonna help with the whole "take the gorgeous merman with incredible hair and alluring brown eyes back to his ship and nurse him back to health" thing.

Eddie freezes and holds his hands up. "Sorry," he says, keeping his voice low and soothing. The merman doesn't relax much, but his nails are no longer digging into the wood. Eddie figures that's a tiny win.

"I'm Captain Eddie of the Corroded Coffin. We didn't expect to find you here, sweetheart."

The nickname just slips out, an unthinking attempt to butter the merman up and an admission of his own thoughts. The merman's eyes narrow, slowly looking Eddie over as though sizing him up.

Eddie lets him, perfectly content with standing still if it means the merman will give him even one iota more of his trust. "That doesn't look very comfortable," he says, nodding to the tub. "Would you like some help?"

The merman relaxes a little more, and Eddie has no clue what he did to cause that. Before he can think too much about it, the merman points to a dresser on the other side of the room, looking at Eddie expectantly.

"You want something from there?"

The merman nods, which tells Eddie he at least understands human language. That doesn't give him any idea if the merman can speak it, though.

He walks over to the dresser and looks at the merman, pointing to each drawer in turn until the merman nods. The fourth drawer is, apparently, the correct one. When Eddie opens it, he finds a small treasure trove. It must be a collection of trophies from the ship captain's previous raids.

A quick glance reveals a gold crown with rubies, several diamond rings, a few silver bracelets with various gemstones along the bands, and a pearl and seashell necklace thrown on top. Eddie knows the merman probably wants that necklace most, but he can't help thinking of a rumor that mermaids like shiny things.

The drawer is full of shiny things.

He hesitates for less than a second before pulling out the entire drawer itself and turning around. "I'm not sure what you want from here," he lies, smiling apologetically at the merman. "Can I come close enough to show you?"

The merman stares at him before slowly nodding once, suspicion practically radiating off of him. Eddie flashes a more genuine smile and slowly approaches, giving the merman enough time to reject his presence. When he's a few steps away, Eddie crouches and tilts the drawer so the merman can see what's inside.

Immediately, the merman reaches out and snatches the pearl and seashell necklace. The gills on the side of his neck flutter slightly as he puts it on, and Eddie wonders if that's a sign of relief. "Was that everything you wanted?" he asks.

The merman glances at him, one hand still lingering on the necklace. He glances down at the drawer again, seeming to argue with himself before reaching out and removing the crown and every bracelet. He carefully slips the bracelets on and clutches the crown in his hands.

"Anything else?" Eddie asks, his tone indulgent. It must be reassuring, though, because the merman looks at him with curiosity more than anything else. It's like he's trying to figure out what he can get away with.

A few seconds pass before the merman glances down at the drawer. His gaze lingers at the edges, and Eddie starts to wonder what could possibly be there when the merman points at one of his rings.

Eddie blinks, following the merman's finger to a chunky ring. It's shaped like a bat with emeralds for eyes and diamonds for teeth. It's one of Eddie's favorites; he found it on his first raid, took it right off the captain's hand himself. Nobody has ever dared ask to touch it, let alone have it.

Without a second thought, Eddie puts the drawer down, slips the ring off his finger, and offers it to the merman. It sits in the palm of his hand, meaning they'd have to touch if the merman really wants it that badly.

Slowly, the merman reaches for the ring, his nails tickling against Eddie's palm as he takes it. From the light brush against Eddie's fingers, the merman's skin is cool, exactly like jumping into the ocean on a hot day.

----

Steve is a firm believer in the power of small comforts, especially as it relates to the growth of his guppies. Dustin has long outgrown his baby tail belt, but he still wraps it around his wrist every morning. El and Will no longer need the seaweed and coral dolls Steve made for them when they were barely able to swim a straight line, but they still tuck them in every night.

So, when the human (Eddie, Steve reminds himself) offers up a drawer filled with shiny jewelry, Steve doesn't hold himself back. The bracelets make him feel grounded, the crown gives him something to clutch without the risk of breaking it, and the ring...

Well, the ring was more to see if Eddie's actions would match his tone. And because Steve thought it was fascinatingly grotesque. What kind of creature would have wings without feathers? Sure, the gulls he sometimes sees near the surface are confusing, but the ring depicts something even further beyond his imagination. What's up with the sharp teeth? Why must the eyes be green? Does it know it's a freak of nature?

Anyway, the jewelry helps. Steve uses it to distract himself from the sheer agony screaming from his tail when Eddie lifts him out of the cramped tub. He thinks about which bracelet he'll give to which guppy (Robin will get the crown) when the edges of his tailfin graze against Eddie's legs as he confidently walks across a plank connecting the two ships. He closely studies the featherless wings on the ring to avoid thinking about what's to come when Eddie sets him down on a large, surprisingly comfortable bed in another private cabin and starts gathering a needle and thread.

There's not much left to distract him when Eddie kneels next to the bed and looks up at him, his eyes reminding Steve of his guppies when they've done something bad and need him to clean up the mess.

"This is gonna hurt," Eddie tells him, his voice soft and gentle and full of regret as he grabs a bottle from the table next to the bed.

The liquid inside is clear, and Steve would think it was water if his nose hadn't been hit with such an astringent scent when Eddie opened it. Before he can fully process the smell, Eddie tips the bottle and pours the liquid onto Steve's tail.

An involuntary screech rips out of his throat, a burning sensation clawing along the cut and making his scales buzz. Without thinking, Steve grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks it away, his lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals sharp teeth. Despite the physical pain, Steve thinks the worst part is that he let himself get distracted by small comforts and warm brown eyes and Eddie's soft voice.

He should know better.

"Shit," Eddie mutters, quickly dropping the now-empty bottle to the floor. It cracks but doesn't break, and he looks up at Steve. "I should've explained that better. Holy fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I had to clean it. If I sewed it up without doing so, it might get infected."

Steve narrows his eyes, his grip tightening briefly as he studies Eddie's face. He seems genuinely apologetic, and Steve understands his intentions once he's processed Eddie's words. Steve had to do something similar when Mike and Lucas bothered a shark too much. Their wounds weren't nearly as bad as Steve's, but they'd still cried and shouted when Steve and Robin had to pull teeth and bits of coral out of their wounds before wrapping them in seaweed.

"I'm done with that part, though," Eddie says, his voice practically desperate for Steve to understand. "You can squeeze my shoulder or something while I sew it up."

A few seconds pass before Steve nods once, slowly letting go of Eddie's wrist. As Eddie starts threading the needle, Steve places his hand on his shoulder, bracing himself for the upcoming pain by squeezing the crown in his other hand.

Eddie takes a deep breath as he glances up at Steve. He licks his lips, looking back at the top of the cut. "Okay, I'm starting now," he says, waiting long enough to see Steve nod before starting the first stitch.

The alcohol hurt. The stitching is a fucking bitch. But, honestly, none of it is as bad as when that first disgusting human dragged a dagger through Steve's tail. He still hisses, gripping Eddie's shoulder tighter and unable to stop his nails from digging into his skin. Despite how it must hurt, Eddie doesn't flinch, and Steve feels a little better.

"You know," Eddie says, mostly focused on keeping his hand steady and his stitches even, "I wish I knew your name. I can't keep calling you sweetheart."

He could. Steve wouldn't mind it. But he also knows it isn't entirely fair that Eddie doesn't know he can speak. They'll need to be able to talk, Steve thinks, if they're going to be around each other for a while longer.

And Eddie has been kind enough that Steve wouldn't mind being around him for however long it takes his tail to heal.

"Steve," he says.

To his credit, Eddie doesn't drop the needle. He does tense for a moment, his hand pausing as he looks up. "What?" he asks.

"My name. It's Steve."

"You can talk."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Eddie hums, looking back at the cut as he starts stitching again. "You didn't say anything before," Eddie says.

"The last human who saw me mutilated my tail," Steve replies.

"Fair. Is, uh, is your name really Steve?"

"That's the closest translation to your language."

"What's your name in your language?"

Steve hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat. He feels his gills flutter, trying to create the bubble pattern that accompanies his name as he lets out a rhythmic series of squeaks and clicks with a short hiss at the end.

A few seconds pass after he's done. And then Eddie nods once and says, "Steve it is. How'd you get caught, Stevie?"

Ignoring the slight urge to point out that Eddie said his name wrong, Steve frowns slightly. "One of my guppies got caught in that ship's net. I got them out but was caught myself."

"One of your...guppies?"

"Yes. You would call them...children, I think?"

Eddie has nearly reached the middle of Steve's tail by now, and his hand falters once more. "Children? Aren't you...a little young?"

Steve bristles, glaring at Eddie. He's heard that same question plenty of times from members of other pods before, and he's tired of it. "What does it matter if they are happy and healthy?" he asks.

"Sorry," Eddie whispers, glancing up at Steve. There's something he can't quite read in Eddie's eyes. "Do you raise them alone?"

"What? No, of course not. My partner, Robin, raises them with me. We have seven guppies, with an eighth on the way."

"An eighth?!" Eddie asks, sounding strained as he pauses his stitching once more to look up at Steve. "Shit, man, shouldn't you give Robin a break?"

Steve blinks, tilting his head slightly. "Why would she need a break?" he asks.

"She's already popped out seven!"

Suddenly, Steve realizes what the disconnect is. He blinks once more and dissolves into laughter. "Oh!" he says, the exclamation broken by a giggle as he tries to calm himself down. "No, no, she is my partner, not my mate. Besides, she doesn't even like mermen."

Eddie seems to relax at Steve's explanation, his shoulders dropping and his voice significantly lighter as he starts stitching again and says, "Oh, I see. Then whose kids are they?"

"Technically, they belong to the pod," Steve explains, gritting his teeth as Eddie reaches the tailfin. He feels warm all over, his nerves jumping and his scales feeling half-ready to just fall off. "Each pod has at least two caretakers. Mates have a guppy and let caretakers raise them while they focus on their own roles within the pod."

"Do you like being a caretaker?"

"Yeah," Steve says, managing a shaky smile despite the tugging on his tailfin and Eddie's fingers pressing against his scales. "They're my guppies. I'd drain the oceans for them."

"And, uh, what about your mate? Do they mind you being so...devoted to the guppies?"

It's not at all subtle, but Steve finds it oddly endearing nonetheless. He slowly exhales, forcing himself to loosen his grip on Eddie's shoulder. "I don't have one."

Just like before, Eddie seems to relax some at the answer. He also finishes stitching, tying off the thread with a secure knot before carefully cutting away the excess. "Well, uh, we'll get you healed up and back to your guppies as soon as possible," he says, looking up at Steve.

"It needs to be wrapped in kelp. And, uh, I'll need a tub. You know, with seawater."

Eddie nods along, flashing a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, Stevie, I'll get you anything you want," he promises.

"Anything?" Steve asks, leaning forward some as he tilts his head.

"I already gave you my favorite ring, sweetheart."

Steve glances down at said ring, wondering what about it could possibly make it Eddie's favorite. He can't immediately figure it out, but that doesn't change the sweet warmth and anticipation for the time he'll spend with Eddie that he suddenly feels.

#steddie #steddie fic #high seas steddie #that's gonna be the fic tag for this series btw #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fluff #my writing

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agendabymooner · 5 months

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SOMETHING HAZY !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: carlos wanted his wife to let it all out. that’s all.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), not proofread, use of explicit language, established relationship (married), soft dom!carlos, unprotected sex (pls use protection), creampie, sex as emotional outlet, dacryphilia, reader being in subspace, ion know what i wrote it’s just smut, consider this my fever dream (i have a fever)

recommended song: american by lana del rey (i kinda based it off the vibes of the song)

note: y’all should check out something devoured bc there’s not much jenson button love out there 🤭 this was also an idea i brought up to a moot (@daaiissyyyyy) because we had too much fun recommending songs back and forth enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

the spaniard didn’t usually come home earlier than his wife. his flights back to madrid were usually longer and she worked nearby. so it wasn’t everyday he got to go home and relax in front of the television while he patiently waited for her to get back from her office shift.

what he didn’t expect, however, was the expression on her face when her eyes lit up for a brief moment at the sight of carlos.

it was as if she felt numbness in her system, telling him about her work and how much her boss frustrated her after working for hours on a project she’s dedicated herself to.

it was one of those things that carlos had heard through the nightly facetime call with her. she spoke enthusiastically about her project while she cooked dinner for herself, to which she’d ask about his media duties and how it went for him after.

it wasn’t anything that carlos didn’t welcome; he loved her so much that her enthusiasm and cheeriness were nothing but a part of his everyday life.

so to see her like this— less than optimistic and happy without the verge of crying (which she usually did over the little things), it didn’t sit right with him.

“cariño,” he murmured, stopping her from moving around the kitchen as he pulled her closer to him. pinning her against the counter, she took a deep breath as he asked, “i’m here now. what do you want?”

“i- i-“ she stammered, “i’m okay, carlos.”

“no, you’re not, bebe,” carlos mumbled, kissing her neck before his head moved up and his mouth nibbled at her ear. “i’ve been married to you for years. i know when you’re not okay.”

his breath fanned her skin as he said, “tell me what you want, mi vida. ‘m here for you.”

“i-“ she took a deep breath and murmured, “i just want to let it all out and cry, carlos and i can’t do it.”

out of desperation, she turned around and faced him with a wobbling smile. “i want you to fuck me ‘til i’m crying and- make it all go away, carlos. please.”

with a sweet smile, he tipped her head back and softly kissed her.

“anything to help you out, cariño. let’s get you out of these clothes, hm?”

it was like she was being split into half.

his cock, its girth and length, was no contest to her cunt. carlos could still remember the first time her eyes landed on it as if she was wondering how it would fit into her.

carlos loved the way her eyes would roll back when he managed to fit in snugly, fucking her while being pleased by the way her legs trembled and shook as he continued pounding into her.

but right now, it was all about her. all she wanted was to have an outlet for her emotions. that’s what she was getting.

he watched the way tears fell down her temple as he smiled gently. his smile differed from his actions, thrusting until he completely bottomed out of her and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, eliciting a whiny moan from her as she incoherently spoke.

she felt like she was being split into half, yet she wanted him to break her fully.

“‘los, wan’ more,” she whimpered, her eyes shut tight as she whined.

“i know you do, mi vida,” carlos murmured, pounding hard as her toes curled and her heels dug into his hips. “so eager for me.”

“fuck, carlos, please~” she opened her eyes for a moment. carlos saw nothing but haze in her eyes, her thoughts were already driven away from the insanity of her reality at work.

good, carlos thought. all he wanted was to distract her from the stress.

“you look so pretty, mi corazon,” he mumbled, his fingers pulling away from her tits to wipe her tears away. “so, so pretty.”

“te mereces algo mejor, mi esposa,” you deserve better, my wife. carlos continued. “so much more than those people, bebe.”

she was already too fucked out to even consider what he was saying, sobbing as she begged him for more. “carlos, please fuck me harder. i wanna cu- hah~ fuck— please—“

“shh,” he tutted quietly, his fingers now trailing down to rub her clit as she let out a sharp cry. now thrusting harder and faster, carlos moaned at the way her walls clenched around his cock as he mumbled, “so fucking good for me, mi amor. cum for me, bebe.”

her legs twitched and heels dug into his hips as she whined, “gonna cum, ‘los! i’m cumming— ah- hah~”

she felt nothing but euphoria, her vision turning white as she let out a quiet scream. “oh, oh~” she whimpered, feeling him paint her walls white with his pleasure as they both let out choked moans.

carlos’ breath fanned her neck as he gathered his breathing. then, he gently pulled himself out of her. she let out a whine, telling him to continue stuffing her and that she felt empty without his cock inside her.

he stood for a brief moment, watching as her body limped and a mix of her and his pleasure oozing out of her cunt.

with her mind still hazy she murmured, “carlos, want you.”

“i know, mi vida,” he said softly. “i’m just gonna clean you up then we’ll go to sleep.”

“but—“ she sobbed, tears falling down again.

“no more thinking,” he told her gently, yet his words demanded her to listen. he leaned over to press a kiss on her forehead as he mumbled, “not tonight. we’re gonna go to sleep and you’re gonna listen like a good girl, hm?”

she relented, wanting to please him as she nodded. a pout still played on her lips, not happy with his words but regardless she said, “mmm…okay.”

carlos smiled lightly. it was nice to know that she got her emotions out already— she clearly needed that more than anything.

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rinseis · 4 months

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PLAYING FAVOURITES — GOJO SATORU

❥ gojo satoru is one of the most popular names in japan. when he becomes a judge-slash-leader on a dance show, he takes an abnormal amount of interest in you, making everyone else effectively jealous of you. problem is, if either of you want anything to happen, you have to keep it hidden from public eye. you think it’s best to wait, at least until the show’s over, but unluckily for you—gojo has always been impatient with what he wants.

word count. 5.9k ♱ content warnings: female reader, modern au, celebrity!gojo, dancer!reader, scandals, gojo is kinda a lot unprofessional, nsfw - mdni, porn with plot, mentions of BL, alcohol, gojo eats you out, penetration, fingering, orgasm denial, no condom was used (you kids stay safe, use condoms), pet names (baby, pretty, princess), geto sees you naked, slight action on a motorbike, mentions of masturbation/vibrators. mdni banner by @/cafekitsune :)

Fame, wealth, prestige.

Over three million followers. Everyone either wants him or wants to be him. Always decked out in his sponsors’ clothes—this season it’s Chanel. One of the favourite faces for Vogue. Praised as an all-rounded genius; there’s rarely anything he can’t do, being a model, actor and dancer with hobbies ranging from skateboarding to professional motorcycle racing. There’s nothing that Gojo Satoru seemingly lacks.

Except maybe in the professionalism department. And that’s only because he met you.

Being the judge in a dance competition that’s being broadcasted internationally comes with a set of unspoken responsibilities, namely: you do not sleep with any of the contestants. It’s not his first time on this show, so he already has a reputation built as the strict but kind and professional judge (and also the hottest one to grace everyone’s tv screens). But since week two of knowing you, he’s already crossing boundaries—putting his work ethic to the test.

When the team he has to train celebrates their earlier victory against another, he treats everyone to drinks at one of the most bespoke places in Tokyo, holding it in a private room away from paparazzi eyes. Gojo makes sure you sit right next to him too, because like hell is he letting his favourite be at risk of some other guy’s touchiness.

Not him though. It’s fine if it’s him.

As everyone gets talkative and debating among themselves about who’s the better dancer, Gojo takes the chance to lean closer to you, his hair brushing your face. You stiffen up a little, in that adorable way he likes whenever he’s near (because you’re a fan of him before this, he knows—he can tell), before you ultimately loosen up as he puts a soothing arm around your shoulder.

“Not feeling so well today?” He asks, because you’re particularly quiet tonight, more so than usual, and he’s curious. He’s always curious about you.

You chuckle, taking a swig of your beer. “Just tired out from earlier,” you tell him, and he guesses it’s because of today’s recording. Gojo knows, of course, because he pays special attention to you.

He watches every move you make, every smooth curve, relishes in your movements, especially when you dance to an especially sexy song. Gojo isn’t so subtle either, always cheering after you end your set, always making comments that the editor would probably have to cut out most of the time, praising you with words like i could watch you… dance all day and every time you dance i fall in love all over again. (With dance… of course.)

So much so that every other contestant there is envious of the attention to detail you get when it’s Gojo’s eyes on you. They can only dream of it.

“How’s your legs? Heard they cramped up earlier,” he asks, daring to put a hand on your thigh, gently rubbing up and down, the hem of your skirt reacting to his movements.

You nearly choke on your drink, but you don’t reject him anyway—letting him rest his hand on your inner thigh. By the looks of it, you’re enjoying it too, aren’t you? That smile you’re suppressing isn’t very convincing if you aren’t.

But Gojo likes to be a little piece of shit, he likes to play games first—and he wants to play with you, because he thinks you’re oh so pretty and oh so talented, and you’re kind of fiesty too, during training, making him question all the boring models he’s ever dated just for their bodies.

Are you going to be the same? That’s what he wants to find out.

When the celebration ends, he makes sure he sends everyone on a cab back to the recording building, the residential apartments sponsored by the show being right next door to it. Except for you though. He holds you back from entering the last cab for the group, knocking on it to let the driver know to drive off.

Then, with a devilish grin on his face, he grabs a spare helmet and offers it to you.

“Wanna ride?”

Ten seconds later, you’re riding pillion, holding onto Gojo because you’ve never ridden on a back of a motorcycle that’s going this fast before. You should’ve known, really, because what other speed would an adrenaline-loving professional motorbike racer drive on? Judging by the look of his bike, it’s probably not actually allowed to be usable on the actual roads too—it should only be driven for races.

Not that Gojo cares, because he knows he’s the best and he wouldn’t let you get hurt. You thank god he chose not to drink tonight. You wonder if he drinks at all, now that you think of it. But Gojo accelerates and all your thoughts go out the, well, wind? You hold onto him tighter, and you swear you can almost see a smirk if not for the helmet in your face. He’s not even wearing a helmet, for fucks’ sake. Just how much of a daredevil is he?

To his credit though, he manages to get you to the destination safely, without a hair out of place for him because somehow, no matter what he does, he always looks drop-dead gorgeous. Talk about being born with good looks, good body, good everything. No wonder all the luxury brands are scrambling to be his sponsors. He could probably make trash bags look expensive.

When you get off, you realise that you’re not at the usual building, with grey walls and a shoddy exterior. This time, you’re face to face with a sleek black high-rise hotel, the kind that you think probably only the elites in society can afford. Just when you’re about to question Gojo on his intentions, he cuts you off.

“Do you mind? This place belongs to my friend, just gotta check in on him for a bit,” he tells you, looking at you expectantly, as though he’s daring you to say no. But you gesture for him to go ahead, and that shit-eating smile is back on his face.

Once you’re inside, you’re met with a floral aroma that’s not too pungent, the entire lobby enveloped in a bright warm light, filled with attendants who bow at the sight of Gojo Satoru strolling in, decked head to toe in Chanel (of course), who in turn ignores everyone else and pulls you by the wrist with him.

You sit by the bar as you wait for Gojo to finish conversing with his friend, who’s sat in the far corner of the hotel restaurant, table filled with paper and files that you’re not envious of. The life of the rich seems too complicated for you. You’re happy just being yourself and enjoying trying to make a living out of dancing.

From the corner of your eye, you can faintly make out his fox-like eyes, jet black hair—he’s a stark contrast to Gojo, who seems to be more rainbows and sunshine. You don’t know what his name is, but he gives you a smirk when he catches you staring, and you abruptly turn away, embarrassed from getting caught.

“You here with Gojo Satoru?”

The bartender appears in front of you, looming tall as he looks down at you. He has jet black hair too, but he’s more buff than Gojo and his friend—the type who looks like he can manhandle you if he wants to. That scar on his lip makes him look dangerous. A white rag is slung over his shoulder as he uses it to wipe the glass down.

You nod, trying not to appear too friendly. You never know what these men might be thinking. “Yep, but I’m just a nobody so don’t worry about me,” you tell him once you realise he’s pouring you a shot.

The man scoffs, his voice getting even lower. “Nobody that’s around someone like Gojo Satoru is really a nobody,” he tells you, sliding the shot glass over the counter.

You’ve already drank a lot earlier, but you can hold your own, so you accept it anyway, with the plan of asking to put it on Gojo’s tab if they ask you to pay. You think a single shot here can cost at least three hours of your wage.

“So you know Gojo well, then?”

Admittedly, a part of you is curious to learn more about Gojo. The one every tabloid uses to boost their viewers, and the one who seemingly dates a new girl every other month, and the one everyone somehow either wants to be, or wants to get with. You included, if you’re not being in denial.

“Only as much as I observe,” he tells you bluntly. The only reason he’s talking to you is probably because he’s bored out of his mind since you’re the only one there apart from the other two guys.

So you decide why not? You don’t think you’re about to ask Gojo about himself, so maybe the bartender is the next best thing. “Do you happen to know why he doesn’t drink, uh—”

“Toji.”

“Simple, he’s a lightweight, that’s all,” Toji tells you, rolling his eyes. “Took him two shots to get tipsy and by the time he took the third shot he was all whiny and ended up throwing up in that pot over there,” he nudges his head toward the plant nestled at the corner of the bar, his irritation earning a snort out of you. Judging by his tone, he probably had to be the one to clean it up.

“Hey, are you shitting on me to my student?”

Gojo’s behind you before you know it, an arm slung around you as his friend takes to the other side of you, showing you an interested gaze.

Toji barely pays Gojo any mind, putting away the glasses. “Ah, Satoru, looks like you got a new favourite huh?”

The way he says new favourite implies there’s an old one, and going by the news you’ve seen of him circulating online, there’s not really anyone that qualifies, with every relationship being such a short fling. Is that what Toji means or is he hinting at something else?

It’s like Gojo can sense the gears turning in your head, so he gives you a quick flick on the forehead before turning his attention back to the bartender. A childish grin appears on his face, one that you’ve never seen him show on tv before, or throughout recording. “How about you give us each two shots?”

“No.” Toji’s refusal is quick and crisp clear.

Beside you, Gojo’s friend snickers, amused as he swirls his own liquor of choice in his glass. “Satoru, stop trying to bully my bartender into quitting.”

“Then try to hire a more competent one,” Satoru sneers, Toji’s deadpan expression and Satoru’s childish one on par with each other.

Ignoring them, Gojo’s friend reaches his hand out to you, a friendly smile on his face. “I take it you’re Y/N?” He asks, and you nod politely, shaking his hand. “Geto Suguru,” he introduces himself, and your ears perk up, somehow finding that name familiar.

“Heard of him?” Toji asks you, entirely ignoring Gojo now, who’s pouting as he reluctantly takes a seat beside you. When you struggle to place it, Toji helps you out. “He’s an actor too, played as Satoru’s lover in one of the dramas.”

Your eyes widen as Geto suddenly looks exactly like the character he was acting as, his face growing more familiar by the second. He groans, rolling his eyes, and Satoru’s on your other side faux gagging with his tongue sticking out.

“Don’t remind me,” Geto sighs just thinking about it, “we had that entire fanfiction saga after that ended, too.”

When you turn to Gojo, he only side eyes you and tells you, “don’t even ask.” So you make a mental reminder to google it yourself later.

As much as you like socialising with celebrities that are way above your status, you feel the sleep catching up to you, the exhaustion from earlier creeping its way back in.

“I think I’m just gonna head back first,” you tell Gojo, finishing up your drink and getting up, but Gojo’s big hands find you first, holding you in place. It’s kind of hard not to let your heart flutter when you’re in such close proximity with someone who’s too utterly gorgeous for his own good.

Gojo opens his mouth just briefly before holding himself back and then just offering a smile. “You tired?”

You want to say you’re not, because if you’re being honest, you don’t get opportunities like this often, this being the first time you’ve actually had proper alone time with Gojo outside of your training, and even that you were surrounded by cameras watching your every move.

“Kinda,” you settle for, and it’s like Gojo senses what you’re thinking of that he offers you a cheeky smile.

With his fingers around your wrist, he pulls you with him as he exits the bar, an amused Geto left behind, whispering something you can’t hear to Toji, who shakes his head as though he saw this coming.

“Where are we going?”

When Gojo turns around and winks at you, you can only hope he doesn’t actually feel your pulse racing from where your hands are linked. It’s honestly irritating just how charming he can be.

He’s quick on his feet, the light reflecting off of his studded jacket as he drags you with him across the lobby to the lift, swiping a card and then pressing for the rooftop, the glass elevator smoothly bringing the both of you up. You turn around to face the view of the city, and your eyes light up.

It’s not like you’ve never seen the Tokyo skyline before, but to see it like this; undisturbed and in the company of someone you admire—it feels kind of unmatched.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Gojo’s voice flows through your ears like honey, his eyes piercing even as you look at them through the reflection on the elevator window. You only nod, mesmerised by both the view and the person. “I convinced Suguru to buy this place and make something out of it, used to be just an abandoned building at one point.”

And now it’s one of the most prestigious hotels in all of Tokyo, with a view that’s hard to beat, and a rooftop that’s entirely too beautiful that you wonder how long they spent just on the design alone.

The scenery distracts you from the fact that Gojo’s fingers are intertwined with your own as he brings you onto the rooftop, walking you to a corner where a thick wooden table sits, a single wooden ashtray in the middle.

Gojo lets go of your hand to sit on the table, feet propped up and body leaned back on his palms as he smirks to himself, satisfied that you find the view just as nice as he does.

You’re completely absorbed by the scenery before you, leaning against the edge, wide starry eyes looking at every thing in sight. Gojo wonders if you know how pretty you are, if you know what you do to him. Every single time he sees you, he has to hold himself back from acting out of line thanks to all the cameras surrounding you. That, and the warning given by the producers to keep things professional.

But Gojo thinks fuck being professional, because neither of you are being watched right now, and he knows he’s not the only one out of the two of you that’s aware of the chemistry between you. Your lingering eyes, the way you always look out for him, the way you willingly let him cross the line sometimes.

Slowly, he comes up behind you, mirroring your pose, arms leaning against the edge too, enveloping you in between his body. It’s shameful really, that if you didn’t have restraint, Gojo won’t have it either, but it’s all up to you. His right hand comes up to brush against your cheek, and he can tell by the muscles on your shoulders that you’re stiffening up—he’s been paying attention to your body way too much. He can argue it’s his job, but never when it comes to you.

Even now, when he’s so unashamedly staring at how your top hugs your body so well, how your skirt is at a length tempting enough to hike over your ass. Just imagining what you look like underneath all that is enough to make him hard, his hips instinctively closing the gap between you.

Your head’s been muddled for a while now, and you gasp at the feeling of Gojo against you. You’ve thought of this situation before, of the physical attraction between you and Gojo coming to a head, but you’d always thought to leave these kinds of things until after the show’s over. Seems like Gojo has the opposite thoughts, those same views seeping into your own head, making you reconsider, and it looks like he’ll come out on top.

You can’t help but let out a whine as you feel his big hands on your inner thighs, beckoning you to spread them for him. It’s pitiful how easily you obey, and Gojo is just as desperate, your stomach being pushed further against the edge of the railing.

In spite of it all, Gojo’s trying his best to limit himself to this, his hands squeezing your thighs in frustration. “Fuuuck,” he groans as his fingers sneak up against your underwear, feeling how wet you are already. “If you don’t stop me I don’t know if I can control myself.”

It’s really unfair of him to say that, you think, when he’s the one who’s been coming on to you. Still, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this, if you said you didn’t want this too.

“You’re supposed to be the teacher, shouldn’t I be the one following your lead?” You ask back, breathless from how Gojo’s already rubbing circles against your clothed clit, his dick only getting harder as he continues to press himself against your ass.

If you were being completely honest, you’d been waiting for this for a while. An entire month feeling the tension between the two of you without acting on it. An entire month of dancing together, training under him, sometimes with his big hands on your waist and you having to pretend that this doesn’t affect you at all. Your patience is wafer thin by now, and Gojo’s is probably even thinner.

You hear Gojo suck a deep breath before he forcefully turns you around, his half-lidded eyes filled with lust. Your gaze falls to his pants, the outline of his dick way too obvious against the expensive fabric. You swallow the lump in your throat; he’s so big you wonder if you can actually take him.

With a smirk, Gojo sneaks his fingers back up under your skirt, pressing against your clit, “just wanted to see what you look like when you feel good.”

This scene is so surreal that you wonder if you’re dreaming. Renowned celebrity Gojo Satoru who’s famous enough to be a household name with a fairly decent reputation is actually here with you, right now, aching for you so badly that he can’t control himself?

“What are you thinking about, pretty?”

His nicknames are going to be the death of you. He’s been controlling himself until now, so you’re not surprised if he’s pulling out all the stops tonight.

Your own eyes mirror his expression, the desire no longer tolerable to control. Usually you’re fond of playing games but this time you’re way too impatient to wait any longer.

“I think… I want you,” you tell him honestly, and for a brief moment you think you see the pupils in his serene blue eyes dilate before his gestures turn feral, his hunger blatantly obvious in the way his hands grip your waist, firm and strong as he kisses you, hips grinding desperately against you, chasing the friction he so badly needs.

“Fuck this is gonna be so bad if we get caught,” he mumbles in between kisses, both of you entangled with each other, your fingers grasping at his hair, his own hands squeezing your ass as he groans at how perfect this feels.

In the moment, you think you couldn’t care less. “Guess we just have to make sure we don’t get caught,” you tell him, and you feel him smirking against you.

“Knew I liked you for a reason,” he chuckles, lifting you up to sit on the edge. He can tell from the way your body reacts that you’re nervous. “Promise I won’t let you fall. Trust me?”

Do you even have any other choice?

You nod, and his childish grin gives you a whiplash. “Ha, good girl,” he praises you before kissing you silly, his one hand holding you in place while the other slowly slips your underwear off, discarding it to the ground. Gojo looks up at you one last time as though making sure you’re sure about this, and the moment you nod, he’s on his knees, trailing kisses on your thighs.

The only thing you can do is watch as he gets dangerously close to your cunt, beautiful eyes watching your expression as he gets closer. He always likes to look at you. He wants to observe just how insane he can make you feel. He wants to know just how badly you want him too.

His strong hands push you forward slightly, his head completely between your thighs now as he gives your clit a small lick, enjoying the sound of you squealing when he does so. He doesn’t hide his mirth, chuckling as he dares himself to taste more of you, licking a fat stripe up your pussy, groaning from how good you taste. Better than he imagined. Better than when he jerked off to you that one time after rehearsal. Better than anyone.

Your fingers yank at his soft white locks as he loses himself in you, groaning in satisfaction as his tongue flicks in and out of your warm pussy, your thighs locking around his neck, your hips grinding against his lips and begging for more.

“You’re driving me fucking insane, you know that?” Gojo asks, his eyes failing to watch your expression now that he’s busy staring at how wet your pretty little pussy is.

From above, you relish in the way Gojo can’t seem to get enough of you, his lips filled with your slick, cheeks and ears red from whatever he may be feeling. It’s a side you’re sure that’s hidden from public, and call you silly but you think that kind of makes this special somehow.

He doesn’t spare a second in standing up and lifting you off the edge, letting you down gently on the table, flicking the ashtray away. Gojo’s hands slowly hike your skirt up over your stomach, unbuttoning your shirt, the moonlight illuminating you in all the right places. His lips move to your stomach, pressing light kisses on your body, trailing upwards to the valley between your breasts, his free hand unclasping your bra in one swift motion.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes against your skin, his lips grazing against the goosebumps that form. Your head tilts up, your back arching as you feel his fingers entering you, one first before the second one slowly joins, Gojo’s ever observant eyes watching as you moan from the pleasure, fingers picking up the pace because he decides he likes the way you sound. “Feels that good, huh?” He asks when he feels you clenching around him.

Your eyes fly open as you meet his own, the yearning from your gaze in full display, your whimpers are all you can let out because Gojo doesn’t let you breathe from his kisses now. He thinks you’re fucking addictive, thinks he was doomed from the moment he first saw how you moved, dancing with just the right force, eyes ogling at your body every single second, always looking for you in the crowd of contestants.

“Gojo—”

He immediately shuts you up with a forceful kiss, his fingers stilling inside you. Gojo’s eyes look into yours, a gentle dominance in his sneer. “Satoru,” he corrects you.

First name basis isn’t something you thought you’d ever get to do with him, but it’s not like you don’t like the thought of it.

“Satoru,” you breathe out, earning a peck on your lips as you say his name.

“What is it?” He asks, almost mockingly, because he knows exactly what you want. Gojo’s fingers move achingly slow inside of you, pushing against that spot you like—he’s already familiar with you just from this brief dalliance alone. “Hmm, can’t understand if you don’t use your big girl words.”

The way he sounds so condescending is downright humiliating, and yet your pussy clenches around his fingers that it takes everything in him not to concede so easily.

Thank god you do though.

“Satoru please fuck me,” you plead, tears in your eyes and looking just so absolutely delectable that he gets the flicker of a thought that he doesn’t want anyone else to get to see you in a state like this. Only him.

He plays right into your hands too, letting his pants and boxers pool to the floor, one of his hands pumping his cock, precum leaking from the tip, his mouth falling open as he slowly enters you, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you take him in.

“So fuck—fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, slowly pushing into you, your perfect tits earning a squeeze as you try to adjust to his size. Gojo looks at where you’re connected, praising you with a flurry of good girl and your pussy’s fucking made for me.

You knew he was big, but it’s so much more than you anticipated, even harder with his thumb pressing down on your clit, teasing you and waiting to see your limit. He’s smirking down at you, though your eyes are squeezed shut to see it.

“What? Wanna cum already? That fast, baby?” He mocks, starting to rub your clit. To think, he’s not even all the way in. God, you’re so fucking perfect. Gojo doesn’t think he’s ever felt so much satisfaction from teasing someone before that he wants to tease you even more. Pinching on your nipple with his other hand, he makes you squeal. “Baby baby, be a good girl, okay?” He whispers, pressing a kiss on your cheek, “better not cum until I tell you to.”

“I can’t-can’t hold it in—” You’re already struggling to think, let alone speak, and that’s exactly what Gojo likes. The way you’re so vulnerable for him, completely different from your demeanour when you’re dancing.

Tilting his head, he grins as he thinks of an idea. “If you can’t hold it in, ‘m afraid I’ll have to punish you,” he says, fingers tracing the outline of your jaw, loving how you’re completely at his mercy.

“Wha- how?” You’re quivering, your body so so close to your high, your willpower threatening to break any second now.

Gojo chuckles, low and deep, as his mouth moves to your ear. “If you can’t be a good girl for me tonight, I won’t touch you ever again,” he whispers, smug as he watches you pout, knowing he’s got you figured out. You want this as much as he does. He doesn’t think he can follow through with that at all, but you don’t have to know that.

All he knows is that you’re buying it as you nod, holding it in. He kisses your forehead as he resumes pushing inside you, watching as you struggle not to cum just from him entering.

“Oh god, you feel so f’kin good, baby,” he praises you again, watching as he’s fully inside of you now, tears falling from your eyes.

He starts moving slowly, getting your pussy to adjust to his girth, laughing at how you’re trying so hard not to let yourself go. You might possibly be one of the most amusing girls he’s ever met.

“Hmm, you’re so sensitive… want me that bad, pretty? Want me to fuck you again after tonight, is that it?” His tone has a lilt to it, and even though he’s mocking you for it, truth is, he’s throbbing inside of you, his own seed threatening to spill out at any moment.

Still, he supposes you’re being so obedient, nodding profusely like that, so worried that you won’t get his attention anymore that he guesses he can throw you (and himself) a bone.

“Mmm, maybe I should go easy on you, huh?” He acts as though he’s not completely a gone case, as though he’s not driven insane like you are. “Want that, baby?” Gojo’s fingers pinch on your clit, and god damn it your mewl is too cute to resist. You nod, not even knowing what for but knowing you need it.

“Want me to let you cum?”

You nod again, and Gojo’s chuckling.

“Still want me to fuck you after tonight?”

You nod again, much more, and Gojo’s ego has never been boosted higher. You’re holding it in so bad, clenching around him so tight that it nearly hurts.

“Fine, cum for me.”

Not even a second later, you’re screaming his name and cumming around his cock as he thrusts into you, riding you out, watching as you squirt all around him, using all his energy to keep himself from spilling inside you because that won’t do.

Gojo pulls out, spilling his load all over you—your chest, your stomach, your clit, watching him taint your body and watching as you let him, the sight of you an absolute hot mess as you pant under him.

It’s adorable, really, how you’re seemingly spent just from that. It’s even more adorable how you think he’s already done with you.

But before Gojo can say anything else, you hear a familiar voice cut in.

“Least you guys could do is lock the door, you know?”

Shooting your head to the side, you see Geto there, a mirthful smirk on his face as he waves hello. You’re mortified, already trying to cover yourself up, Satoru’s cum staining your clothes. Satoru himself, on the other hand, appears unfazed as he pulls his pants up, sighing.

“And maybe you shouldn’t be watching other people fuck, Suguru,” he says, completely unbothered still, and you’re wondering why until Geto speaks again.

“Aww, thought we could share this one too,” he sighs, and his disappointment sounds fake, like he knew all along Satoru wouldn’t go for it. But all you can think of is that he added too—so they’ve shared girls before? You can only imagine just how well they know each other.

In one swift motion, Geto is beside you, seemingly admiring all the places where he knows Satoru’s touched, his hand on your back while he kisses your cheek, before he’s pushed back by Satoru himself.

“Don’t touch her,” Satoru snaps, removing his shirt before you realise he’s offering it to you to wear, now that yours is dirty. He covers your body with his own while you change out of it, with Geto continuing his facade.

“Oh? This is a first, Satoru. You, not willing to share with me?”

Despite their words, the atmosphere isn’t tense at all, and you guess that’s just how close they are.

Satoru scoffs. “Told you, this one’s all mine,” he proclaims, a little hint of smugness in his voice. This time, without waiting for Geto to respond, Satoru grabs you by the arm and waves a hurried bye! to his friend before escaping his sight.

As you take the elevator back down, you’re still trying to process what happened, between fucking who’s supposed to be your teacher and judge in a competition to having Geto witness you nearly naked after getting fucked by his best friend.

Is this really your life right now? You’re really not just making this all up in your head?

In front of you, Gojo’s busy typing away on his phone until the elevator dings, snapping you both out of your reverie. He can tell you’re dazed, but to be really honest, he takes that as a good thing so he gleefully takes your hand and pulls you along with him, briefly giving you a once-over, loving how you look in his shirt. Maybe he should give you more shirts from his closet to wear for your performances. He’d definitely get a kick out of it.

When you reach his motorcycle again, you stop short before asking him again, “where are we going, Satoru?”

You’re still calling him Satoru. He grins. He likes that—likes the show of intimacy, even if it can only be in private.

Gojo revs his motorbike, gesturing for you to just get behind him, which you do—like the good girl he knows you are. He waits until he’s driving away before answering you.

“I was thinking my place,” he says, riding faster, his dick growing hard just thinking about fucking you again.

And it’s like the wind against your face knocks some sense into you again, realising that you and him aren’t just two people separated by your statuses in the world; that the Satoru you know is no longer just the Gojo Satoru you’ve read about in countless tabloids and videos. You came on the show, Satoru took an extreme interest in you, and you’re both now probably violating the rules by, well, fucking, and neither of you want to stop now either.

Just like he’s got you wrapped around his finger, he’s at your every command. Because he wants you. And you know that. And it’s fine if it’s just physical, because you doubt it will go anywhere either.

So maybe it’s okay to let loose.

Your fingers drop to the hem of his pants, palming his cock through the fabric, and Gojo grunts from how good it feels, the motorbike swerving a little when Gojo can’t keep control, distracted by your ministrations.

“Hah, you’re a little fucker, aren’t you?” He chuckles, going fast enough that no one can see what you’re doing, not that there’re a lot of people at this time of night anyway.

“Yeah, what can you do about it?” You tease, feeling a little more comfortable now, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Satoru clicks his tongue, smirking as he looks at your reflection through the mirror. “Careful, pretty, or I’ll make you wear a vibrator the next time we have group rehearsals.”

You fall for it, furrowing your brows. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Satoru laughs out loud, going even faster now, your arms instinctively hugging him round the waist, not daring to tease him anymore—and you should’ve taken that he’s a professional racer before you started teasing him, really.

Daring to turn around to look at you, he smirks. “We’ll see,” he chuckles, “I’m supposed to be your mentor. Can’t let you off the hook that easy, princess.”

Of course, later that night, you’re caught in between Satoru and his inexplicably expensive silk sheets, situated in his all-too-big penthouse suite, moaning his name over and over, his teeth marking your breasts, cock dragging along your gummy walls and fucking you until you can’t think of anything else but him.

As Satoru watches you cum for the fourth time that night, he smirks, watching you writhe underneath him. Yeah, he definitely won’t let you off the hook. Who knows what’ll become of both of you once the show ends? But for now, as long as it’s still going on, he’s going to have his fun with you.

In secret.

#i need him so so so bad </3 #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo smut #༊ &.writing

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cut-content-contest · 9 months

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octoling backup dancers

Concept art for the final boss! In the game Callie is alone on stage but in this one art she has these cool octoling backup dancers. There was also a concept art comic with the backup dancers but they didn't make it into the game :(

coconut.vtf

There was a meme going around of "the coconut that if you delete it destroys TF2" but actually it's just a replacement for coffee beans in a taunt that was never released.

Okay ok ok SO. the TF2 coconut jpeg has such an interesting history. coconut.vtf, or coconut jpg file, is an unused image of a coconut found under a texture file in the game. you have to actually convert the file type to view it, but sure enough it's literally just a jpg of a coconut. here's where things get interesting. someone found the file after it was added in a 2014 update and posted it on reddit. From that post, someone made a joke comment saying "I have no fucking idea who put this here, but when I deleted it the game wouldn’t start. Words cannot describe my fucking confusion", which was then missatributed to be an actual comment from a developer at valve. This snowballed into many people actually believing to this day that this coconut file crashes tf2 if deleted. The coconut does not actually hold the game together, and of the 4 files you need to run tf2 it is not one of them. you can delete it at anytime with no issue. in reality it was an effect for an unused taunt that never got implemented into the game. but it's history of misinformation is so interesting to me. btw one of the file you ACTUALLY need to run tf2 is the 2fort cow, which isn't cut content I just think that's fun.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLx_3bON0Mw

#poll #cut content contest #octoling backup dancers #Splatoon 2 #coconut.vtf #Team Fortress 2

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perfectsensetv · 4 months

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AU swapping Springy and Mephone (AI Swap)

AI Swap is an Inanimate Insanity Invitational AU in which Mephone and Springy are swapped. Springy is the one hosting the show, while Mephone is the villain.

More under cut

Springy The first and most major change to Springy is the fact that he now has a bowtie!! In all seriousness, Springy in this AU has mostly the same personality traits as in III, but they are now not evil nor acting with bad intention. Rather, its usually temporary anger or annoyance that cause Springy to act badly. Other than that, they are still very silly and goofy :) Although, Springy is known for getting a bit anxious on occasion. Springy's favourite food is cereal in place of Mephone liking cookies.

Mephone4 Imagine a friendly AI who seems to be constantly putting on a customer-service-like voice. Who struggles to express any emotion other than happiness or content. Imagine Dr Coomer hlvrai- Mephone4 is known as the mascot of Meeple and the brand of cookies they own. He was redesigned to be more appealing, now having striped limbs and a light blue phone case! Instead of calling the contestants his "Toys", he calls them his "Targets" or "Target Audience". Mephone may be more than a bit unstable, but I'm sure it's fine! Meeple is an accommodating workplace, after all.

#ii mephone4 #mephone4 ii #inanimate insanity mephone4 #ii springy #springy ii #inanimate insanity springy #inanimate insanity #ii au #osc #aiswap au

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robobarbie · 1 month

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Hello hellooooooo! We recently had a banner contest in the discord server, and I wanted to show y'all the awesome entries that didn't win. They're all really cool in their own ways, so I wanted to give them each a lil moment.

(by @/jestie)

Love the focus on xyx!! He reminds me almost of what I'd think teenage him would look like. Very chill, sporty, and out with friends on a beautiful spring day. The linework in this feels really soft as well -- especially on those hat details. AND THERE'S CAT!! CAT!!!

All other submissions under the cut!

(by @/hunddenseje)

I like the details in the flowers a lot for this one. The way people draw roses and how they choose those inner patterns is always neat. And the little plants and mushrooms on his shoulders are fun!! They go well with that striped shirt pattern!!!

(by @/stintsy)

The way this artist circled the boys with that pink rosy pattern will stick in my brain for a while. It's v pretty, and it's like they opened a bush and found us in there for some reason. "Hello! Happy Spring!" Thanks boys please close it back up!!! It's my cry hour in the bush!!!!

(by @/emmascient)

This person's artstyle is so unique and full of life. The little spots of light coming through the trees just adds to whole thing, too. And I really like seeing fanart of owl with textured hair!!! Also check out xyx's fucking biceps holy fucking sh-

(by @/.mewo.)

Just a bunch of bros on their lunch break bayBEEEEEEEEEE!!! I like the detail of toast's coat tied around their waist and the fucking anti-societyboy shirt quest is wearing LMFAO. Also cat is ADORABLE in this. God. More cat art. Always need more cat art!!

(by @/c1nnadoll)

Every time nightowl is drawn in a croptop, two months is added to my life. I just know it's true. God bless that cute ass flower crown and the perfect little peace sign. Man looks so stable and happy. I hope he had a nice day after this picture!!!

(by @/fluffydeer21)

Toast and Quest look so content and cute with their flowers. And there's another neat rose with a lil interior pattern! Held, of course, by this artist's fave LI. Xyx looks pretty good with gold jewelry, I cannot lie. I have no idea why I made them green in game. LMFAO

(by @/noneivly)

I like how this feels like a painting. Like those brush strokes and even the palette choice just look like something you'd see hung on a wall? It's really cool. Also the little detail of the chibi picnic boys in the background makes me giggle. Small!!!!! So fucking small!!!

(by @/kiki_221)

The energy in this is excellent. You can almost hear them laughing together at Toast's expense (deserved I'm sure). I'd like to imagine they're all relaxing at a park after a big lunch. I hope they got to discuss all the good things that happened to them this week.

(by @/01noxxie10)

Another excellent chillin in the grass pic! Purple actually looks really good on Quest. I don't think I've ever drawn him in that color before? So this image made me think about that a LOT. Also look at fuckin chill ass xyx. Calm beautiful motherfucker. Fuck you!!! Fuck you!!!

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There's two more images, but those are the discord banner winner and the one I chose for my twitter! If you want to see those excellent drawings, check out my twitter here or join the discord server here!

Thank you everyone for all the submissions! I treasure them deeply!!

#fanart #xyx #quest #nightowl #nakedtoaster

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cleoluvrr · 6 months

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fuck up the friendship (rafe cameron x reader)

SYNOPSIS: we're already six feet deep, let's cut the tension

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content

materlist

you entered the party space, the floor packed with people dancing to the music playing through the speakers. you grabbed another glass of water as you and rafe passed a refreshment table. the two of you stood at the back of the room, people watching and enjoying the music in a comfortable silence.

"so...you wanna go dance?" you said as you walked backwards onto the ballroom floor. rafe smiled softly, legs outstretching to follow after you.

rafe dragged you out to midsummers despite your pushback. he told you that it would be fun, but you already knew that he only wanted you to come so he wouldn’t have to be pulled around with his father.

you hadn’t been to the event in ages, parents leaving you behind at home every year since you turned thirteen and outright refused to attend anymore. you hated everything about the dick-measuring contest of a party; the disgusting display of wealth, the suffocating smell of old lady perfume, and the feeling of middle-aged men wrapping their wrinkly hands around your body when your mother would force you to hug them.

you never understood why your family came every year, but deep down, you knew. you guys weren’t rich, at least not when compared to the rest of the island club members. your parents ran a business that the tourists loved, and it generated enough money to send you to private school and pay to be a part of the country club. you’ve lived comfortably your entire life, but your parents had to work hard for that. since they weren’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth, they felt that they had to prove to everyone that they were just as good.

they come every year to make connections not only for themselves, but for you. they want to give you the chances they never had, so they drag themselves to events like this to make that possible.

so when you told them you were coming for the first time in almost five years, they were elated.

though, not as elated as rafe.

rafe had been your best friend since sophomore year of high school, when he was a junior. you weren��t sure why he wanted to be friends with you; he was older, more popular, richer. you felt as if you were in two different worlds. that didn’t matter to him though–once he set his sights on you, it was already decided that he would take you under his wing.

you always heard that rafe was an asshole to anyone with less money than him, and maybe that was true, but you’d never experienced it. in fact, he’d never been mean to anyone at all when you were around. as far as you knew, he was an angel. one with an increasingly concerning cocaine habit, but sweet nonetheless.

everyone always told you to stay away from him, or wondered how someone like you could ever be friends with him, but you never understood what they meant by it. to you, he was just rafe; your best friend.

"dance with me." rafe says, arms reaching out towards your direction.

"i am dancing with you?"

"no," he says, pulling you closer, "dance with me." he wraps your arms around his neck, swaying the pair of you side-to-side to the rhythm of the music.

"are you feeling better now?" you asked. he was dreading the party for weeks, and he could barely muster up a smile a few hours ago. he hums a yes, a content look on his face as he looks at you.

"you look so beautiful tonight, y/n." you looked down as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "i'm serious. you're stunning."

"i know you're serious. why do you think i'm blushing?" he laughs at that. you could see the smile on his face when you meet his eyes again.

"i make you blush? that's cute."

"shut up." you stepped on his foot, though all he does in response is keep laughing. the two of you remained like this for a number of songs, just enjoying each other's presence.

after being at the gala deep into the night, you decide to call it. rafe says his goodbyes to his friends and a bunch of donors that are acquainted with his father, quite begrudgingly, before he walks you out to the car with him. rafe, with his constant need to show off how much money his family has, chose to have a small limousine pick up the two of you from his house. the driver was standing by the car with the back door open, closing it after you were settled inside.

"that was actually so much fun." you spoke tiredly.

"i told you it would be." he hums from the seat beside you while looking at his phone. you cut your eyes at him.

"you literally begged for me to come because you were dreading spending time with your father. which you ended up doing anyway."

"okay fine," he snorts, "but look at this." he leans in, showing you his phone. he posted a video of you loudly singing to a kehlani song on his instagram story, telling the artist to watch out in the caption.

"i told you to delete that shit, rafe!" you shoved at him in annoyance.

"but it's so cute! i've never seen you smiling like that before."

"yeah, because i'm always around you." he shoves you back, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. he rests his head on you shoulder, grabbing at your hand and playing with the silver rings adorning your fingers.

he pauses abruptly, sniffing strangely. he turns his head, deeply inhaling by the spot where your neck meets your shoulders. the feeling of his breath on your bare skin makes you shudder involuntarily, but you don't react otherwise.

"you smell really nice." he says against your neck, lips brushing your skin.

"i know." you kept your reply short, knowing that if you tried to form a full sentence, your voice will certainly fail you.

"delicious, really." you bit your lip, trying to keep the inappropriate thoughts that have suddenly begun to attack you at bay.

"rafe." you sighed out.

"hm?" the blonde hums. he reaches up towards your necklace, toying with the pendant that decorates your chest.

it was a gift from rafe; a birthstone necklace for your eighteenth birthday.

rafe normally ignored your personal space, but this felt different. it couldn’t be the alcohol–even at his drunkest he never acted like…this. you didn’t have a lot of experience with guys, but you weren’t clueless. you knew that this wasn’t how guys acted with girls they were just friends with.

he took off his suit jacket when he got in the car, the muscles in his arms on full display in the well-fitted button up he wore. his legs looked mouthwatering, muscular thighs straining against the fabric of the slacks keeping them contained. the manner in which he sat with his legs wide open, manspreading, was so tempting.

you wanted to slap yourself for even letting those thoughts come to mind. what was wrong with you? rafe is your best friend.

you blinked a few times, eyes tearing away from the thickness of his legs and back up towards his lightly flushed face. you swallowed thickly, sure that rafe could see the way your throat bobbed from his position at your neck.

"have you been drinking?" the feeling of your heart thumping against your ribcage at a rapid pace only made you feel more on edge.

"no, i'm very sober." he says, his free hand moving to the small of your back.

"okay…so why are you acting like this right now?" your throat bobbed dryly once again.

“have you ever been touched, y/n?”

the question caught you totally off-guard, the nature of it immediately causing you to head up. you almost had to physically stop your jaw from falling to the floor.

"what?" is all you could respond with, more than sure that you misheard him.

"i’ve been thinking…” he trails off for a moment. “you’re almost nineteen, and i’ve never even seen you flirt with a guy.”

“okay, so?” you lick your lips, barely able to get your words off your tongue.

“so…you aren’t worried about going into college being inexperienced?” you shrugged, unsure of what he wanted you to say.

“i’ve never really thought about it.” the words left you softly, voice slightly shaky from nervousness.

“college guys are different, y’know. they don’t like girls that haven’t ever done anything.” he says. “that don’t know anything.”

“rafe…” you whined. you felt humiliated as he pointed out your lack of experience with boys at your age.

you and rafe were complete opposites in that aspect. you never really thought about sex, unless you were in the lone darkness of your room back home. the only guy you ever really thought about was him. he was involved in almost every part of your life, and it was hard to talk to other guys when he took up so much of your attention.

rafe, however…well–rafe got around. there was nothing he hadn’t done, and you didn’t have to ask to find that out. he loved to talk to you about his sexual endeavors, and you always tried your best to drown out all the vulgar details that he never attempted to spare you.

“i’m just asking as a concerned friend, y/n.” his blue eyes flicker up to meet yours, the ocean color much darker than you remembered. “has anyone ever touched you?”

“no!” you were short with your reply again, face hot and feeling flustered. “but that doesn’t–it doesn’t matter.”

“it doesn’t matter?” he sounds skeptical, brows rising to the middle of his forehead. “you don’t want me to teach you?”

“teach me, what?” your brows went up just as far as his. you were met with silence, rafe’s penetrating eyes a replacement for a verbal answer. “i don’t think friends are supposed to do those…things with each other.” you gulped again, the temperature inside your body rising the longer the conversation continues.

“why not? it’s smart to do those ‘things’ with someone that you trust.” the blonde chuckles at the avoidance of explicit language. "why is your heart beating so fast?" he asks, moving the hand that was previously playing with your necklace to where the muscles lies to feel it bang against your chest.

that only makes it beat faster.

"because you're making me nervous." your voice gets caught in your throat.

"i make you nervous?" he asks teasingly. you don't answer. "hm? can you answer me?"

"yes," you whisper, feeling him smile against your warm skin, "you're making me nervous."

"really?"

"rafe." he ignores the callout.

"how does this make you feel?" he presses his lips to your skin, soft kisses ghosting against your exposed neck.

"rafe." he continues his antics, the furnace in the pit of your stomach burning stronger with every placement of his plump lips.

"does this make you nervous too?"

"stop." your voice comes out pathetic and weak. you weren’t sure if you actually wanted him to stop.

"do you really want me to?" your mind is fuzzy, too focused on how he's making you feel. "hm? i will if you do. i just wanna help you…wanna teach you some things. don’t you trust me?" he stops the barrage of kisses to whisper in your ear, patiently awaiting an answer.

you felt like you were going crazy.

you’ve always daydreamed of something like this happening, but that was it. dreams. you’re a hormonal, young adult and rafe is undeniably attractive–of course you would think silly things like that. there's a little voice in the back of your head telling you to snap out of it, to not go this far with a boy that’s been your closest friend for years.

it makes you want to think about how many other people he's done this with, how he's just doing this with you because he just wants to get his dick wet for the night, and you’re the closest girl to him. how you’ve barely even had a first kiss, and how it makes no sense for you to do god knows what in a car with said boy.

the other part of you doesn't care and wants to give in to what he's trying to convince you. it doesn't care that it probably isn’t–definitely isn’t a good idea. that this is so out of left field and completely inappropriate–and that's the part that wins.

"yes." you’re as quiet as a mouse, sure that the sound of the car covered up your voice.

"yes, what?" he asks sweetly, rubbing his lips against the cartilage of your ear.

"yes, rafe, i trust you." you nearly whined, desperate for him to keep going. he smiled, planting a kiss to the ear his lips were resting against.

"good."

rafe goes back to the junction of your shoulder, more firmly this time. sliding the hand on your chest up your neck and to your jaw, he turns it away to gain more access. he leaves rough, wet kisses all over, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

he trails the kisses down further, marks left in his wake as he leaves burgundy hickeys over the tops of your breasts, the skin left exposed by the dress you wore. he moves the fabric of the skirt out of the way, a knee placed between your legs to keep them open as he hovers for a better angle. he pauses his assault, coming up for air. he looks at your frame beneath him, panting, eyes glassy and lipgloss completely bitten off.

"you look so cute right now" you mewled pathetically in response, arching your back to push your chest closer to him in an attempt to make him start again. "calm down, pretty girl. i'm right here." he says.

"rafe, please." you threw your head back against the seat, exhaling deeply. "don't mess with me right now."

"you want me to stop?"

"you're about to make me mad." you groaned, annoyed with his antics.

"i'm sorry, baby." he smirks like something is funny. "you're just so fun to play with." he steadies himself with a hand on your hip, the other one wrapped around your neck, thumbs grazing the center column in an up and down motion.

"you aren’t a very good teacher." you gritted out, utterly frustrated.

"i’m not?" you shook your head. he sits back down in his seat, grabbing you to pull you over his lap. "first lesson. make me hard." he says.

"wh-what?" you stuttered in complete shock, stumbling over one simple word like an idiot.

"do i need to repeat myself?" he begins pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, up the center of your throat, and nipping at your jaw. you moan quietly at the feeling of his lips, pushing against his shoulders instinctively. "make me hard. no guy can fuck you with a soft dick."

you lick your lips, lack of experience leaving you clueless as to where to even start.

reaching around his head to grip the hair at the nape of his neck, you pulled his plush lips against yours in a bold move. you licked into his mouth hesitantly, the taste of mint toothpaste and bourbon hitting your senses immediately. rafe groaned against your lips, fisting the material of the dress in his hands; the bold choice seemed to have an effect on him. you did not go unaffected, the sound released from his throat sending a surge of heat through your entire body.

rafe was patient– letting you bite at his lips experimentally and tease his tongue with yours every now and then. you had no idea what you were doing, and you were more than sure that he could tell.

he pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss with a sudden burst of confidence and passion. it could not be compared to the soft way you were kissing him just moments ago. his roughness against your mouth and the tightening grip he had on your hips did not match his usual sweet demeanor, the fierceness in his motions throwing you for a loop.

“jesus christ. do i even know this guy?” is the thought that hits your mind.

"sit on me." he whines, pulling away briefly. he squeezes the flesh beneath his hands, urging you to sit down all the way.

settling in his lap, you let yourself rest your weight completely on him instead of hovering. rafe grinds his hips up into you when you do this, letting you feel the barely contained bulge in his pants. you sucked in a breath of air, attempting to pull away, but he grabs the back of your neck to keep you from moving. the blonde was starting to take control of the situation again, clearly far more experienced.

you found a moment to pull away eventually, rafe chasing after with a string of saliva connecting your lips. he licks it away, the action sending your mind into a foggy mess of arousal.

"shit. hold on." you said, panting heavily above him. the boy kneads your flesh through the satin material of the gown, running his thumb over your swollen lips covered in our shared saliva.

"what is it, princess?"

"rafe," you ran a hand through the back of his hair, "why.."

"why, what?" he moves his hand back down to your neck, rubbing the bruises on the skin he made a few minutes earlier. "can you use your words, pretty girl?"

"why did you do that?"

"do what? this?" he grinds his hips up into you again and you whimper, falling forward against him to hide your face in his neck. he chuckles, pressing a wet kiss beneath your ear. "i wanted to show you how good you’re doing, that's why."

"i hate you." you muttered against his skin.

"oh, i'm sure you do."

you couldn't think clearly anymore, unable to form a full thought that wasn’t about what's going on in this car right now. you don't know how far you want to take this, but you didn't want to stop either. you'd never slept with anyone, your first real kiss was just given away to the boy beneath you moments ago.

"how much do you want to show me?" you said boldly, surprising the both of you.

"i hope you know what you're getting yourself into." he smiles lazily with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"i don't," you admit, leaning back to your original position, "but that's why i'm asking you to show me." you locked gazes with his, watching as his pupils blow out and his irises darken.

he leans forward and you meet him halfway. he laps messily at your lips and grazes the roof of your mouth with his tongue, the wet sounds of sloppy kissing and heaving breathing filling the silence of the limo. when rafe grips your neck again, he uses the grasp to keep your lips together until he decides you can come up for air.

he steals your breath away and you let him, the insistence of his tongue causing your shared saliva to run down your chin, no doubt ruining the makeup you worked on for hours earlier in the day. moaning against his wet lips, the obscenity of the kiss sent a blinding heat through your lower body.

suddenly, rafe’s hand grazed a nipple through the fabric of your dress. the action made you shiver involuntarily. he brushes over it a few times before covering your breast with his entire hand, squeezing it roughly. your body jerked against his, unable to control the reaction it had to his touch. he broke the kiss, the sound of you whimpering capturing his attention.

"you're so sensitive. do you like the way i touch you? how i take control over you?" he asks with a rough voice.

you were at a complete loss of words. not being used to being spoken to this way, you could only respond with a nod. rafe doesn't bring up an issue with your answer. you felt as your thin underwear began to grow damp, the fabric sticking to your skin as he palmed at your chest.

with glassy eyes, you watched as he groped your clothed breasts, brushing over your pebbled nipples and kissing the fresh hickeys as he worked on making new ones. rafe gazed up at your dazed expression, completely entranced with the unfiltered reactions. he’d never seen you so desperate.

"you're so adorable." he whispers against your neck.

"shut up," you respond. your breath stutters when he pinches a hard nipple through your dress, leaving it tender and nearly making you faint. he dropped his head back down to your chest, wrapping his mouth around your clothed breast. the action left you feeling dizzy, the sting of the pinch went directly to your core, leaving you clenching around nothing as you leaked pathetically into your underwear.

"rafe, stop! you're gonna leave a stain." you whined, pushing him off weakly. he pulls away begrudgingly, clearly displeased with the complaint.

"i don't give a fuck about this dress." he nearly growls.

he switched to the other breast, taking it into his mouth and tugging at the satin with his teeth. he licks roughly at the hidden nipple while a hand sneaks up to yank down one side of your dress, spreading the saliva that seeped through the fabric onto your damp skin. you hissed, the coolness of the air-conditioning causing the bud to harden even further from the wetness. you were desperate to feel his mouth lave across the bare skin. you looked up at the roof of the car, head heavy and feeling drunk with pleasure. he backs away suddenly, his hands frozen in place as he looks at you closely.

"rafe..." he groaned at the sound of his nickname leaving your mouth in such a pathetic plea for him to keep going. you ground your hips down against his in search for something to ease the throbbing between your thighs. you were beginning to lose it–your friend was single-handedly driving you insane in under fifteen minutes.

"what do you want me to do? use your words, beautiful," he looks up at you, his eyes wild and filled with lust. he ran his hands over your thighs, moving the skirt of the dress to expose your bare legs through the slit. you pulled his face towards your chest, lip captured between the sharpness of your teeth. “your second lesson is to tell me what feels good.”

"can you kiss me here, please?" your voice is quiet, embarrassed that you were begging for him to touch you.

your head fell back, all thoughts of embarrassment are gone when he pulls down the top of your dress slowly, releasing your breasts from their constraints. you weren't wearing a bra, the structure of the dress leaving no need for one; you were completely exposed to him.

rafe groans, his lips encasing one of the buds and releasing it with a wet 'pop.' he flattens his tongue against you, moving it in an upwards motion and repeating the action twice more. hovering over your chest, he opens his mouth wide to let his saliva drip down onto you before licking it back up with long drags of his tongue.

your clit pulsed intensely, eyes falling shut at the overwhelming feeling. rafe kept going, sucking and biting at your nipples like his life depended on it. his neat hair was ruined, the repeated gripping and tousling of the locks by you leaving it a complete mess. he groans against you when the manicured nails attached to your fingers scratch at his scalp.

"rafe," he dick twitched under you when you moaned his name, "please touch me. i need it." he hummed in acknowledgement, finally pulling away from your thoroughly dampened chest. strings of saliva connect his lips to your skin.

"are you wet for me, pretty girl?" the way he looks up at you through his lashes with swollen, red lips and a chin covered in his own spit is a pornographic scene.

you recognized the craving in his eyes immediately; they were a reflection of your own. with your usual shyness and critical thinking skills gone long ago, you grabbed rafe’s hand and placed it between your legs, allowing him to feel what he's done.

"fuck..." he cursed, frozen in place.

you squeal when he grabs you roughly, sitting you on one of his knees instead of over his lap. he watches your face as he pushes his flexed thigh up against your core, moving your hips against the tense muscle.

placing your hands on his shoulders, your steadied yourself as the hot pleasure flooded your body. he narrowed his eyes at you, gripping your waist tightly as he slid you back and forth across his thigh.you clung to his forearm at his roughness, the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh both painful and arousing.

"does that feel good, baby?" you nodded, words unable to roll off your tongue properly.

rafe picks you up again, placing you back in the seat of the car. he turns to you and fits his body against your side, hiking the pink dress up and opening the slit to reveal your ruined underwear. he bites his lip as he drags a finger up and down the soaked fabric, in awe at the way it glides so easily. he pulls away, holding his fingers up to your face.

"can you get these wet for me, sweet girl?" you comply, allowing him to place them into your open mouth.

he uses his free hand to wrap around your body, groping at your bare chest from behind. the hand owning the digits that were previously encased by your mouth move back down between your legs. he uses the pads of his fingers to rub harsh, tight circles into your swollen clit, the sounds of your wetness filling the back of the car.

you grabbed his wrist in one hand, feeling your release building quickly.

you tremble against his body and he whispers sweet words into your ear, soothing you with wet kisses on your neck. you grind yourself into his merciless fingers, desperately after chasing your high as the heat spreads throughout your entire body.

"m'gonna cum," you say, on the verge of babbling mindlessly.

"you’re gonna cum already?” he chuckled at your whining, his head shaking. “how cute.”

his movements speed up unexpectedly, rubbing over your clothed pussy with fervor. your eyes squeeze shut, the pleasure building so quickly that you couldn’t keep them open any longer. the hand gripping his wrist moves up to his head, holding onto his messy hair for leverage. all of the restraint you had before had completely disappeared, hips jerking sharply into your friend's hand as you reach your peak.

"rafe-" you start loudly. the owner of the name clamps his free hand over your mouth and hushes you.

"we aren't alone, remember?" you nod, biting your lip to keep quiet, but he keeps his hand in place anyways just in case.

you whimper, thighs clamping around rafe’s hand tightly. he continues to palm and rub at your sensitive center, aiding you all the way through your climax instead of stopping despite how much your body twitches against him.

"mmm, you're taking it so well baby. making such a mess for me." you whine at his words, the sentence going straight to your gushing cunt.

the nails of your free hand dig into his arm, and the other continues pulling at his hair harshly in desperation. he groans deeply as he drags out your for his own pleasure, watching as you squirm against his hold, moaning his name pathetically through his palm.

"you're such a good girl for me," he praises into your ear, "so, so good. you learn so quickly.”

you pant against him, chest heaving and a few lonely tears falling from your eyes. you ache for something to fill your empty cunt, the feeling of his hands rubbing at your clothed core no longer enough to satiate the desire. you follow the motions of his hands with your hips now, still in a daze, unable to stop despite the overstimulation.

rafe slips his hand past the waistband of your panties, slipping his fingers through your folds and collecting the wetness that he created. you let out another pathetic whine; the feeling of his bare skin against yours causing your eyes to roll back into your head unconsciously.

"i know, pretty girl." he coos into your ear. he puts his glistening fingers to his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. he wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing it as he pulls you into a messy kiss. he pulls away, looking at your fucked out expression in awe.

he suddenly glances up towards the window in front of us and lets out a string of curses. you lift your head from his shoulder, reacting in the same way when you look out of the window.

the two of you rush to fix yourselves, the sight of your neighborhood filling the dark car windows. rafe grabs napkins from somewhere in the car, using them to wipe your chin, chest, and thighs clean, apologizing when he touches sensitive areas. he cleans his own hands and face off, throwing on his suit jacket while you adjust your dress back into its original state.

the limo pulls in front of your house, the sight of your parents’ cars and the lights on in their room shaking you slightly. you suck in a deep breath, taking in everything that just happened. you gnaw on your bottom lip, gloss long gone, and swallow deeply.

“what the fuck did i just do.”

you look over at matteo to gauge his reaction, only to find him staring already. you blush and start laughing, which prompts him to as well. your eyes rake over his body, and immediately spot the large bulge in his dress pants. the laughter fades into silence, feeling terrible for leaving him like that. what exactly do you do in a situation like this?

he catches you staring and smiles, head shaking as he laughs softly.

"i'm sorry about..." you trail off awkwardly, not knowing what to say, "that." you decide. he chuckles, moving to a seat closer.

"it's okay, don't worry about it." he says..

"well, um, i guess i should go. it's pretty late." you tell him, reaching for the door handle.

he intercepts, pulling you back towards him gently. he grabs your jaw with a firm grip and kisses you softly, sending butterflies to wreak havoc in your stomach. he massages your lips with his, the sweet movements drastically different from how he kissed you moments earlier. he pulls away, smiling with low eyes.

"i don’t think i can let the college boys have you..." he says softly, his eyes containing a look you’d never seen before.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #cleoluvrr fics #rafe cameron smut #obx3 #obx fic #rafe imagine

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shadesslut · 8 months

Note

non-gf!ethan x reader angst?

yuppp that's the shit I like

i don't wanna be friends

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader)

Content Includes: (Smut, Ethan being mean)

Summary: Ethan had always been mean to her, thinking it would gain her attention. Well, he got it, but not in the way he wanted it.

Masterlist

✮

Y/N didn’t know what to think about Ethan, the shy, nerdy boy in her friend group. She knew he hated her, and she had no idea why. It’s not like she didn’t try to befriend him, in fact, she was the only one who engaged in conversation with him when they met. The whole night, she tried to make Ethan feel included, but Ethan, the whole night, ignored her. Ever since that night, Y/N wasn’t very fond of him, but she was forced to hang out with him since Chad loved him so much.

Chad had invited Y/N to a dinner party along with the rest of their friends, including Ethan. Y/N was sat in between Mindy and Tara, across from Ethan and Chad.

“So, Y/N,” Tara began to speak, chewing with a mouthful of pizza. “You got anyone catching your eye?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

Chad gave her a grossed-out look. “Don’t ever ask it like that ever again.”

Tara stuck her tongue out at Chad, before biting into her slice and looking at Y/N, waiting for an answer. Y/N glanced at Ethan, who looked away from her gaze. “There’s this one guy in my philosophy class,”

Mindy and Tara squealed at her response, immediately asking different questions. Chad gave Ethan a look, who kept his eyes on his plate.

“I don’t really wanna date right now though, just kinda wanna mess around so I figure out my type.” Y/N stated, cutting off Mindy and Tara. The two girls looked at her sadly, before dropping the topic. The group moved on to talking about something else, while all Ethan thought about was her words. 'Mess around'? What the fuck does that mean?, Ethan thought to himself.

The girls had brought up the topic of the next party the group should go to, and something inside of Ethan snapped. He slightly kicked Y/N’s leg, gaining her attention. She gave him a disgusted look and returned her attention back to Tara. His eyebrows furrowed at her ignorance. Fucking bitch, he thought. He kicked her once more, harder this time.

“Fucking stop, Landry.” Y/N warned, kicking him back. The rest of the group looked between the two of them in an awkward silence. Chad forced a cough, while Mindy slightly chuckled.

“Not so bold now, huh?” she teased, before Ethan cut her off.

“I’m just tired of hearing how much of a whore you are.”

Now everyone was real silent. Y/N looked at him with a hurt expression, while the others looked anywhere but them. “Dude,” Chad said to Ethan, just as Y/N pushed away from the table, the wooden chair scraping the floor, and stormed into the bathroom. Tara watched her as she slammed the door, then turned to Ethan, who visibly regretted his words. As the boys cleaned up the kitchen, the two girls went into the bathroom with Y/N to comfort her. Ethan could hear muffled voices talking as he listened whilst washing the dishes.

“That was an asshole move.” Chad broke the silence, drying said dishes. Ethan sighed as he dried his hands, agreeing with Chad. He needed to apologize to her, she needed him to apologize. Ethan softly rapped on the door of the bathroom, nervously putting his hands into his pockets.

He heard a, “Fuck off!”, which was shortly followed by a, “It’s okay,”. The door opened, and he saw Tara’s figure blocking him from the doorway. He could see a sliver of Y/N’s body, which sat on the floor, next to Mindy, who had her arm around Y/N’s back. Tara put her hand on her hip as she looked at the brunet, and he nervously gulped.

“C-Can we talk alone, Y/N?” he asked her, but still remained in the staring contest Tara was giving him.

He heard Mindy whisper something to Y/N, before she stood up and walked up behind Tara. “It’s fine,” she whispered to her, which caused Tara to move out of the doorframe.

“We can go to my room,” Ethan suggested. She slowly nodded as the other two girls gave him a dirty look. He scratched his neck awkwardly, before leading Y/N down the hallway into his room. She stood uncomfortably by his bed as he locked the door, looking at all the posters on his walls. He had old movie posters, which the corners had faded, and he had taped-up pictures that consisted of his family and friends. She softly smiled at a picture of Ethan and Quinn when they were younger; Ethan was pulling Quinn’s hair while she punched his leg. She giggled quietly at the photo, and Ethan followed her line of sight.

“She called me a penis face after that.” He laughed. She smiled at the picture, but her smile quickly faded as she remembered why they were in his room.

“I just wanna say that I was such an asshole back there. I shouldn’t have said that to you.” He apologized, sitting down on the edge of his bed. She gave him a cautious look before laying down on his bed, her legs by him. “I get it if you don’t like me, I haven’t been that nice to you.” He admitted.

“Yeah, why is that? What did I ever do to you?”

He inhaled sharply, not wanting to tell her the reason. The real reason he acted this way towards her was because he wanted her. He knew he would never be able to be with her in that way, so what better way to get attention from her than being an asshole? He twiddled his fingers together as he looked down in silence. She raised her head up and looked at him for a response.

“I don’t know,” he muttered out a lie. She only sighed in disappointment, not knowing if this was even worth it.

“Ethan,” she said his name as she sat up, catching Ethan’s attention. “I’ve wanted to be your friend, but not if you’re going to keep treating me like this.”

His face fell at her words, but he wasn’t surprised. How could she not respond that way? After everything he did to her. He felt her get off the bed, and he looked at her as she walked towards his door.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, grabbing her hand. She stopped and looked at him, then glanced at his touch.

“I’m sorry, I wanna be your friend too. Can we try again?”

She paused momentarily, and she looked at him sadly. She weighed both of her options as she thought about them. She really did want to be his friend.

“No.”

Ethan had a shocked expression on his face as she left his room. His jaw hung open at her answer, he didn’t expect her to say that. The rest of the night, he spent crying off and on as he curled against his pillow. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he heard the door open slowly. Chad peaked his head in, and he quietly walked in, laying next to Ethan. Chad lifted the blanket up and covered Ethan and himself fully, before giving Ethan a slight rub on the back and falling asleep.

—

The next week was hard on Ethan. He had tried texting and calling Y/N, which he never did, but she gave him no response. He would see her sometimes at group hangouts, but would brush him off every time.

He was starting to go crazy.

“Can you please ask her to talk to me?” Ethan begged in the middle of his and Chad’s small kitchen. Chad stood in front of the stove, checking inside the oven on their food.

“Dude, I’ve tried.” Chad responded, pulling out the tray of chicken wings.

Ethan groaned as he put his hands on his forehead. “But,” Chad started again, wincing as he tried to touch one of the wings. “She’s coming over tonight to drop something off for me, so you could bombard her.”

“W-When?” Ethan stuttered nervously. Chad glanced at his phone and made an upside down smile.

“She’s on her way.”

“Fuck, Chad,” Ethan mumbled, rushing to his room. He stepped into his bathroom and looked at his reflection. Man did he look, bad. His hair was a mess, the bags under his eyes darkened, and he reeked of a musty smell. He cursed again, and he sprayed an insane amount of deodorant under his shirt. He ran his fingers through his hair swiftly, calming some of his curls, and he raised his hand to his mouth, cringing at his breath.

As he brushed his teeth, he heard a knock on the front door. He started moving quicker, and he spit one more time in the sink, before he slammed the door open.

He hit something as the door swung open, and he looked behind the door to see Y/N caressing her forehead.

“Ow,” she groaned.

Ethan’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

She slightly laughed and looked up at him. “I’m fine.” She responded. “Can we talk?”

“Yes, yes of course,”

Again, they were in his room. This time she sat at his desk, while he sat on his bed.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started speaking softly. His eyes perked up at her full of hope.

“Yeah?”

“I was mean the last time we talked.” She admitted, and Ethan’s face twisted with confusion. If anything, he was the one who was mean.

He looked at her, trying to receive the same gaze he was giving her. “So, do you wanna be friends?”

She shook her head, and Ethan felt even more confused.

“I don’t get you, why did you wanna talk to me then?” He asked hopelessly. He stood up and walked over to her, putting his hands in his pockets.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, and he wanted to kiss her right then and there. “I don’t wanna be friends, I wanna be more.”

Oh.

“Why were you always so mean to me before, though?” She asked, eyes tearing up.

His eyebrows curved upwards as worry washed over his face. He softly sighed. “Because I like you, I always have. I thought you wouldn’t like me back, so,”

Y/N’s lips parted as she licked them. She reached upwards for his shirt, and she gently tugged him down. He was on his knees, in between her legs, and he rested his palms on her hands that sat on her knees. “Can I kiss you?” She whispered, tucking a curl behind his ear.

He nodded profusely, and he felt her soft lips graze his. He slowly moved his lips against hers. Her hands ran through his hair and back to his neck.

She slowly pulled away, breath hitting his face.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Ethan asked, breathily. His cheeks flushed a pink shade, and his eyes flickered from her lips to her eyes. She only smiled at him and kissed him again.

Their kiss grew hotter and heavier, and before she knew it, Ethan picked her up and set her down on top of his desk. He sucked on her neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he rolled his hips against her core. His mouth opened against her skin as he grinded harder against her. “Fuck,” he moaned. He felt his dick get harder, and his face turned warm.

She grabbed the hem of his shirt and raised it above his head. He panted, and the hair above his pelvis rose up in the cold air. She paused for a moment, and traced her fingertips along the lines of his abs. Ethan blushed, now feeling a tad exposed and embarrassed. She started to untie his sweatpants, but his hands reached down to stop her.

“Wait,” he stopped her. She immediately retracted her hands and looked at him with a worried look. “I’m, I’m a virgin.”

She only giggled at him, which made his heart beat faster. “I don’t care, Eth, but we can stop.”

“No, I want to, I just didn’t know if you were okay with that,” Ethan smiled after she nodded, and he let her continue to drag his sweats down. His bulge was apparent through his boxers, and Y/N moaned at the sight. He started to undress her, by taking off her tank top, leaving her skirt on. He stared at her still covered breasts, and he looked up at her for permission. She answered by grabbing his hand and placing it over her boob. He made an exploratory squeeze, and his dick twitched. He kissed her again, and his arms snaked around her back, sending chills up her spine. As he unclipped her bra, he whined at the sight of her bare nipples.

“I want you to fuck me, Ethan. However hard,” She said breathily. Ethan hooked his fingers through her panties and swiftly tugged, causing them to rip off. She gasped, and he pulled his dick out, lightly pressing against her entrance. She looked down, and she clenched upon seeing him. He was a little above average length, nice and thick with veins running to his soft pink tip. He had a nice cock, she really thought it was a shame it’s never been in someone’s mouth before. Ethan’s whole body was on fire at the touch of her wetness. Her warmth felt euphoric, it turned him on even more. He slowly pushed himself in, keeping direct eye contact with her as he opened his mouth to moan. She whined at the stretch and burn, but it felt oh so good.

He was now fully inside her, motionless as he let her adjust to his size. She started to rut her hips against him, and his hands sternly held her hips, stopping her.

“You’re not allowed to move.” Ethan said. He grabbed her chin and kissed her mouth as he stuck his tongue in. She groaned and mumbled a muffled, “Sorry,”

He began to move his hips back and forth slowly at first, then started to move at a faster pace. Her walls hugged his cock tightly, creating friction against him with a hard pressure. She desperately tried not to move her hips as he continued to thrust inside of her; it just felt so good. He started grunting as his pace quickened and turned rougher. His hand was wrapped around her breast, cupping it, and his other hand was placed on the crease where her thigh and hip met.

“Fuck, I just wanna ruin your body.” He moaned in her ear. She only whined in response, which caused Ethan to slap her ass. She yelped and rubbed her fingers over the now red patch, soothing the pain away. He quickly muttered something along the lines of, “Okay” “Move” “Now”, and she immediately rolled her hips against him.

“Atta girl..Yeah you can fuck me, you know how to do it, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“Fuck, you wanna cum, baby?”

She nodded, again.

His hips slapped against hers, creating a lewd noise that filled the room. He reached his thumb down, and he applied pressure right on her clit. She shut her eyes in pleasure, and she began to claw at his back. “Please, Eth, I-I can’t,”

“Can’t what, sweet thing?” He teased, continuing to pound into her.

“C-Can’t, hold on,”

He shut her up by kissing her roughly, his thumb swirling in small circles around her clit. She moaned louder as she let go and reached her high. He felt his hips stutter as she clenched around him even harder. He thrusted into her one more time before cumming, before falling right on top of her chest. She held her hands on his cheek and neck as he positioned himself to lay on her breasts. He slowly and lazily thrusted in her a few more times. You know, just to keep the juices inside.

“Shit,” she whispered. “That was fun.”

Ethan smiled playfully, looked up at her, and asked, “Wanna do it again?”

#scream #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #jack champion #ethan kirsch #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x you

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