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goldustwomun · 4 days

Text

bags (s.h.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?

warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!

wc: 2.2k+

note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)

Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags

You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.

Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.

You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.

It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.

And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.

“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.

Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.

“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.

So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.

He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.

He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.

The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.

And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.

“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.

“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"

His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”

“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.

“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.

“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”

And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”

He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”

You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.

“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—

“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.

“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.

“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.

His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”

“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.

“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.

“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.

“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.

“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal. “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.

He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”

He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.

as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #bags

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nouearth · 4 months

Text

my favorite scent is you.

bruce wayne x male reader.

summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).

wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.

notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.

“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”

It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.

Just a little more, and you’ll break free.

It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.

“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”

“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”

“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”

Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”

“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here.

“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”

“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky. “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”

“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.

“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.

“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”

“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”

“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss.

“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.”

“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.

You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up.

He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.

“Let me take care of you now.”

You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.

Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.

I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…

Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?

You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.

Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.

“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”

The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.

Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…

The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing.

As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.

Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.

Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.

After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.

“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.

White musk.

The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.

Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.

“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.

“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.

I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was… shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.

He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.

Again, as he throbbed.

And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore.

Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.

The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).

His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.

“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.

He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.

Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”

Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.

What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.

Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.

I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.

He was close.

Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.

Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth.

“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.

Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.

Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another.

“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.

I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.

He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.

Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.

Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.

Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.

“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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wordsnstuff · 2 months

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Hey, so i'm working on my first WIP, and i wanted to ask about drafting. When can one consider their first draft done? Does it have to have the goal word count (ie; 100K), or would being about halfway there be considered a good enough first draft, that i can move on to the second and start editing?

Concluding each stage of the writing process

It's difficult to know when a phase of a writing project has concluded and you're ready to focus on a new objective as it's developing. I tend to approach my writing projects with a clear and uniform trajectory, regardless of how diverse my projects can be. This approach allows me to remain focused, thorough, and reassured that I am covering all my bases in an organized fashion. However, it also maintains space for me to be explorative and intuitive when necessary. In regards to word count, I don't think it's entirely relevant unless you're determined to adhere to strict genre conventions. Give your story the space it needs and not an extra inch.

(Optional) Zero Draft

In this phase, you're telling yourself the story. You're doing it quickly, messily, intuitively, and forgivingly. Explore every idea that glows in the dark for you, don't throw anything away or discount any possibility. Exhaust your imagination in this phase so that when you reach the first draft, you know you're making informed decisions.

First Draft

You're crafting the structure and core elements of the story. This is often the phase of discovery. You're becoming acquainted with your characters and how they interact, you're beginning to feel at home in the world and settings you've built, and you're seeing all sides of the conflict as it evolves. The goal here is settle on a beginning, middle, and end point, and by the end of this process you want to know your characters' motivations and relationships inside and out.

Second Draft

Go back quickly through the first draft and address any points where you got stuck, where you compromised for the sake of carrying on to the end, and fill in any apparent blanks. The first time you really iron something out, there will always be a few pesky creases. This is the time to find and flatten them.

Third Draft

This is where you question everything. Identify and scrutinize your decisions, dive into the "curtains are blue" discussions with yourself, and begin to tidy up things like grammar, clumsy dialogue, over-poured descriptions, and dubious vocabulary. Comb through each paragraph and be brutal, prioritizing clarity and intentionality of how you've told the story.

The Read Through

This is the point where I recommend doing three things:

Letting it rest away from you for 1-3 months so that you can return to it with a bit of unfamiliarity and new perspective.

Hand it off to a couple of trusted readers and give them ample time to read, digest, and craft some feedback

Reread the project once all the way through making no changes (although annotations are acceptable)

Fourth Draft

Finishing touches. Vigorously and meticulously scrub and scrape between the lines and imagine giving it to your worst enemy. If you can imagine any mean (but valid) things they could conceive of to say about it, this is the time to grapple with or fix those details.

Additional Resources

Guide to Drafting

Word Count/Productivity Tracker Spreadsheet

Balancing Detail & Development

Writing The First Chapter

Writing The Middle of Your Story

Powering Through The Zero-Draft Phase

Writing The Last Chapter

Chapter Length

Happy drafting,

x Kate

#writing #writeblr #writing advice #authorblr #writing resources #drafting

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 months

Note

routine vibe check: what’s the best starter pokemon and why are you right (pictures and long paragraphs of evidence welcomed and appreciated)

Gonna get a good grade in vibe check, normal to want and inevitable to achieve because I have objectively correct Pokemon opinions and will block naysayers

OKAY LET'S GO

I decided to do, like, a top 5 list or something, because I'm bad at picking a single favourite of stuff. And then even that overwhelmed me, so I found one of those tier ranking list sites and produced this:

It was done in less than a minute, so if I wanted to get really picky, I don't know if I would be fully wedded to it (not sure if maybe Sceptile should be one higher) BUT it did help to highlight the important ones.

So!

5. Bulbasaur

It's. Just. So. Nice.

Like you can find cooler, more beautiful, cuter, fancier... there's a whole bunch of ways for a Pokemon to be great. But you will never ever find a nicer Pokemon than Bulbasaur. It's so lovely. Look at it. Look at its face.

I can't put it higher, because the rest of the line is fairly bland in terms of development. It's good and logical and fun, don't get me wrong, but Ivysaur and Venusaur just look like bigger versions with More Flower and Less Cute rather than creatures in their own right. To be honest, if it weren't a starter requiring a three-stage evolution, you could do away with Ivysaur. Something I don't like about a lot of lazy three-step lines is that the middle step just looks like a transitional mid phase rather than a Proper Creacher, like they were artificially inflating the Pokemon number count. Meanwhile it took us until Paldea to get a Girafarig evo that would actually make the giraffe tall. Madness.

However my first ever Pokemon was a Bulbasaur I called Daffodil, and I have traded him forward onto every single successive generation since. He is, quite literally, my First Ever Pokemon. I love him desperately. I still have him. Not many people still have their First Ever Pokemon. But I do and I love him. So, Bulbasaur gets the fifth spot.

4. Snivy

Again, a victim of the Banal Transitional Middle Evo, but both Snivy and Serperior are incredible, and as Meatloaf took such pains to tell us, two out of three ain't bad.

But Snivy! It's so snooty! I was super lucky with mine, too, because I beat the 12.8% odds and got a female, and I loved her. Normally the initial baby starters are designed to be cute but Snivy has SO MUCH PERSONALITY, she's great. And the design of Serperior is utterly gorgeous. She keeps the expression, but rather than the Animal Crossing-style snooty-cute vibe of Snivy you get this thousand yard withering stare of an empress whose servant (you) has just turned up dripping mud in her throne room and asked her for money. Her green and gold colour scheme is exquisite. Her filigree design, including her high collar, give off the air of wealth and sophistication befitting her immaculate pedigree. And all this! In a simple snake. Incredible design work, 10 out of 10, no notes.

Begone, you miserable peasant. Have him boiled.

3. Torchic

Now I'll be real with you, lads, but Pokemon design hit its stride with Hoenn and then got better.

It's partly a fashion thing, of course - you look at some of the Kanto designs and they are remarkably 90s, because that's when the franchise launched. Others are clearly a product of what the 1990's were capable of producing in pixels on an already over-stretched cartridge medium. Like we like to clown on Red and Green/Blue now, but my god, those game designers performed a miracle with Pokemon. Every single square inch of space was used to make that game, and complex designs weren't going to cut it.

(With that said, there is still no excuse for Dragonite.)

And then Johto came about and its Pokedex sucks ass. It's mostly new evolutions for existing Kanto stars, useless babies to inflate the dex number, or poorly thought out single-evos like the inexplicably short Girafarig and the unacceptably dreary Dunsparce (our greatest thanks to Paldea for fixing both of those).

BUT THEN CAME HOENN (trumpets intensify)

And we get habitats! Biomes! A different regional climate, gifting us a brand new area of Pokecology! And therefore a brand new flush of creativity in Pokemon design across the board; less dated, and more inclined to be unique rather than a rehash of Kantonian stuff.

Which brings me nicely to this lad:

Now, I mean. Just look at him. Fucking hell. Cute starter stage, check. LOOK AT HIM FACE

AND THEN he became, at the time, a brand-new unique typing: Fire/Fighting. I realise that is now the norm for like, half of the Fire starters, but that's because of Torchic, actually. He was super popular. In fact if you ever play Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and you do what my husband and I like to call a Mynci Dave run (use one Pokemon almost exclusively, meaning it gets all the experience points and therefore over-levels to a terrifying degree, allowing you to sweep the game; so named after the noble Primeape we first did this with, Mynci Dave), Torchic is the PERFECT Pokemon to choose, because almost everything is weak to either Fire or Fighting in that region.

Anyway, Combusken is, again, kind of mid (although props for the inverted colour scheme and the fact that it actually does look like a teenager.) But Blaziken, on the other hand... Blaziken is a six foot ninja chicken with wings for hair whose Pokedex entry describes it as able to leap tall peaks in a single bound, a feat it achieves after strengthening its legs by hoofing Geodudes down mountains like they're fucking footballs

Also an impressive bulge.

My first was called Gilgamesh, and he was fucking great. For a long time, this mad lad was my actual favourite Pokemon, not just starter. Brilliant. Love him. Five stars out of three. King.

2. Fuecoco

It would probably surprise you to know I've not actually used one. I chose Sprigatito, and I do really like Meowscarada, actually. But pretty anthro cat boys have been done in Pokemon quite a bit at this point; cats, dogs and rabbits are over-represented in terms of Poke-taxa. Possibly this is another reason for a toad, a snake and a chicken being 5, 4 and 3 so far (ooh, basilisk ingredients, I've just realised.) They're new and unusual! I like an Eeveelution as much as the next person, but they're a whole family of cat-dog-rabbits, like.

However.

Nintendo has tried its hand at Pokecrocodilians three times (Feraligatr, Krookodile, Skeledirge), and they have gotten so much better at design each time that the three of them are basically a scale proxy for ongoing design improvement. Look, I've made a diagram:

EXCEPT

(Strap in)

This one is that rare thing: a three step line that deserves to be a three step line. Let's talk Fuecoco first:

SO CUTE. It's charming, it's charismatic, it's adorable.

It also has hints of its evolutionary end goal, but not like an undeveloped middle evo. It likes singing. The white face hints at the eventual calavera, and it looks a bit like a lil chilli pepper - a ghost pepper, probably in reference to the eventual Fire/Ghost typing. But the colours and shape right now also look a bit reminiscent of a babygro, because this thing is a cute starter. Lookit them teefs. That tuft. Its lovely smile. Beautiful.

And then, at the point you expect it to turn into just the awkward teenage version of the adult, instead we get Crocator:

Oh boy. Oh there's so much to say. Okay okay:

The region it's from is based on Spain, but this thing is incorporating Hispanic elements from across the board. It's a mariachi in a sombrero, except the sombrero also looks kind of like a ring of Mexican marigolds and kind of like a Catalonian Easter cake called Mona de Pascua that has an egg (or egg-shaped confectionary) in the middle. Body shape and markings look kind of like a piñata. The white face is now on its way to a calavera, with the cheek and nostril markings more defined. And it sings, with its open mouth (also how crocodiles release heat, appropriate for a Fire type) and signified by the mariachi theme.

THAT IS A LOT.

And then it becomes Skeledirge. A Fire/Ghost crocodile.

Now the obvious design here is the calavera and the Día de Muertos theming, which is part of it. But there are also many examples of crocodile figures in Spanish folkloric ghost stories: the Catalonian Cocollona, the Lizard of Magdalena from Jaén, or the Drac de Na Coca, or even the Cuca - that one is Portuguese, but turns up in both Brasil and the Iberian Peninsula including in parts of Spain. It's got a Gaudi vibe (like Barcelona). It's got an alebrije vibe (like Mexico).

And the bird! Nile crocs have a cleaning symbiosis with Egyptian plovers; it also sits at the tip of the snout where male gharials have a sort of bulbous bit to help them make sounds (the singing thing).

But this is what the bird does when Skeledirge uses Torch Song:

youtube

It becomes a microphone, then grows in size and attacks the opponent in Phoenix form. Phoenix: Fire/Ghost. Resurrected from the ashes.

Quite simply, your fave could never.

5. Rowlet

My god. (My god)

gasp

Look at this lovely creacher. He is so round and so soft and so lovely. He looks like that baby Yoda meme. He looks like that cat that someone's landlord said they would make an exception for because he looks very polite. Look!!! At his lil bow tie!!! He is a smartly dressed young man and he is kind and he is... well, a bit vacant behind the eyes. A himbo, if you will. But he is all the better for that. What a lovely owl.

He looks a little like a barn owl, perhaps, and those were imported to Hawai'i, where Rowlet is from. But I think he looks a little like a Pueo owl, and given that he will eventually be a Ghost type, that seems right - pueos are one of the physical forms assumed by ʻaumākua in Hawai'ian culture, as I understand it.

And then, hang onto your tits, lads, because this is another banger - THE MIDDLE EVOLUTION IS ITS OWN DESIGN!!! (confetti cannons)

I said earlier that boring middle evos are like just awkward teenagers of the adults. Here, I present to you, a very deliberate Awkward Teenager, in Dartrix:

IT'S A DANDY

I love him I love him I love him

He plays with his fringe and if you touch it without permission he has a tantrum. God, he's so charismatic. Also, that fringe further suggests the pueo - they have pronounced outer rims around their facial disks like that. Look at his bow tie and tail coat. So smart and handsome

This one is so good that it could be the final evo. This is actually my issue with the Delphox line - Braixen is amazing, and then it becomes the bland boredom of Delphox. Braixen should have been the final stop. Here, Dartrix is much the same - good enough to be a high-quality end goal.

Where they differ is that Decidueye is better again.

IT SHOOTS ARROWS MADE OF ITS OWN QUILLS

Also, fun fact - This line is the only starter to change secondary typing. Dartrix is part Flying; but on evolving a second time into Decidueye, it switches to Grass/Ghost. In this evolution, it's definitely mostly a pueo, so the ʻaumākua reference is IN, but actually barn owls also have their associations with the dead in various cultures.

The crown of feathers around its head are also reminiscent of an ayaigasa - a hat worn by Japanese samurai archers. And yet! AND YET!

It still has its lil bow tie look. Bigger now, more of a cravat; but there it is.

A perfect Pokemon, and a perfect evolutionary line. No notes.

Anyway, thank you for this chance to waste three and a half hours writing this essay

#asks #pokemon #long post #gif

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canthelpit0 · 14 days

Text

Enemies (with benefits) PT2

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Word count : 6.2k +

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: swearing, smut, a lot of plot, use of Y/N, FOMO, partying, drinking, smoking (cigarettes, weed), pet names (sweetheart, pretty boy, pretty girl, ma, cherry), name calling (slut), making out, getting caught, p in v, jealous!Reader, jealous!Chris, dom!Chris, unprotected (wrap it before u tap it), spanking, riding, doggy, degradation(?), creampie, slut shaming

(A/N: I wrote this in like a day. so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes. this was fun to write and ended up way longer than intended. Enjoy 🤭)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

Now sitting at my vanity I’m touching up the rest of my makeup. I’ve been invited to some party, even though I said I would distance myself from that kind of stuff. But I was invited and my FOMO was bad enough to make me go.

“You done? The Uber is here.” Evelyn asks. Evelyn is my best friend, and she has been since middle school, she was there for my awkward phases and stuck with me. Now we’re in senior year soon to graduate.

“Yeah I’m coming.”

I say standing up a bit too aggressively than intended. I just really would like to stay home for once and just sleep, but I really can’t.

I don’t even want to go to that goddamn party, but the more time passed the more I thought about how much I’d miss out on.

‘What if something happened and I wasn’t there to see it’

I grab my purse and walk out the door, Evelyn following behind me.

I was wearing a tight, black, mini-dress, that wasn’t as short as the average mini-dress. It is about mid-thigh, but it has a ‘sexy slit’ up my left thigh. And my hair simply down

Evelyn was wearing a simple navy blue mini-dress, that, in her words “has the right amount of glitter on it”. Both of us decked up in jewelry.

Evelyn has her hair bleached, almost platinum blonde. She wears a lot of heavy makeup, but she looks gorgeous with it. Her eyes are dark adding a good contrast.

The first time Evelyn dyed her hair was in like 8th grade. To go from her dirty blonde a little lighter. Until eventually doing it so many times, going lighter and lighter until she ended up here, platinum blonde. But it suits her.

We walk out of my house, the Uber already there like she’d said.

And while I’m still thinking about why I even agreed to this, and ‘oh, it won’t be that bad’ , and ‘I do this all the time anyway’ , we arrive.

“Girl” Evelyn nudges me nodding to the window, and when I turn my head we’re here. I open the car door, and as soon as I do I can already hear the faint hum of the music coming from inside. I slide out of the backseat, Evelyn following behind me, after paying and tipping the driver.

We step up to the porch, and people in the front yard were already throwing up and smoking and whatnot. After all, we came fashionably late.

As soon as we Walk in the intense smell of alcohol and weed washes over me.

I started to question if this was actually a good idea. But when I look over at Evelyn the blonde is already looking over the crowd of people. She looks excited, and I can’t help the sigh that I let out.

Nobody seems to hear it anyway, the music is too loud.

“Go have fun,” Evelyn says over the music elbowing my side.

I roll my eyes looking over at her, a small smile crossing my lips as I chuckle. “You too. I’ll see you later.” I answer loudly smiling back at her before she nods eagerly.

Evelyn isn’t a bad friend at all. She’s great. Just at parties, I would much rather not stand next to her while she is flirting with some dude.

I tell her everything. Always. Except for the fact that me and Chris hook up. It’s kind of a more secret thing, especially since Evelyn knows how much we hate each other. It’s hard to explain. The feeling, the things that he makes me feel. So I don’t even try.

I watch her fade into the crowd starting to make my own way into the party.

It was a simple house party some random popular rich kid was throwing. Nothing special.

I make my way to the kitchen, brushing past drunk and sweaty teenagers.

Parties are way more enjoyable when you’re drunk.

So I pore myself some shots to get myself started.

I down another shot, feeling like the two I already took weren’t enough. I put down the shot glass more aggressively than needed, my face contorting in disgust at the liquid burning down my throat.

I look over at the bottle of tequila on the counter next to me. I sigh steadying myself on the counter my arms holding me up. I look down for a moment already feeling the alcohol kick in. The music started to sound louder, ringing in my ears.

I sigh standing up straight again. I can feel the effects starting. My eyes scan the room, looking for any familiar faces, or anyone cute..

With how much I party I handle my shots pretty well.

I furrow my eyebrows walking around the kitchen island to the living room where most people are, crowded in the middle, dancing and whatnot.

I see Evelyn there, and she’s just dancing so I join her.

After a while I excuse myself. I need some fresh air. I’d been offered one too many beers and I was feeling way more drunk than I wanted to be.

I really don’t wanna go home completely drunk.

I push my way through the crowd of teenagers, making my way to the back door. Getting out, the fresh air hits me like a truck. It feels like I can breathe again.

I step down the porch, sitting down at the steps of the back porch leaning against the railing slightly.

The fresh air feels sobering, but the sips from my red solo cup keep me drunk. I think it’s some sort of beer, but honestly, with the amount of different alcohol I’ve had tonight, I can’t even tell the difference.

Suddenly I feel a presence next to me. I look over to see a brunette boy.

Ethan Marlo.

He’s the school's resident stoner. The leader of the other skater boys. He’s been caught smoking on school grounds so many times.

And while I was certainly not innocent either, at least I didn’t go and get caught.

His hair is long and messy brown… -reminds me of Chris’.. no it’s too curly for that...

His eyes are brown but somehow sharp like he was staring into my soul, and judging everything he saw.

I’d talked to him a few times before, nothing worth noting though. But from what interaction I’ve had with him he was nicer than he looks.

He may just have a resting bitch face.

“Hey?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.

I watch him pull the cigarette from his lips blowing the toxic smoke away.

“Hi.”

I watch as he puts the cigarette back between his lips. I raise an eyebrow watching him. Waiting for him to speak. To tell me why he is sitting next to me.

But he doesn’t.

“Do you talk?” I ask slightly annoyed at having my alone time interrupted cause some random kid sat down.

“Yeah.” He mumbles against his cigarette taking another puff.

He pulls the cigarette from his lips and blows away the smoke before looking at me again.

“I’m Ethan.” He smiles slightly.

“I know.”

Almost everybody knows Ethan. The kid’s a troublemaker. Teachers hate him. He’s a problem child and people know him for that. And he’s not exactly ugly or anything either.

“Now sweetheart, this would be the moment when you introduce yourself.” He sounds sarcastic almost like he was fucking with me.

“Y/n” I say simply staring back at him as he gives me a goofy grin.

I’m not popular in school, but people still know me. They know who I am because mainly Chris and I would always argue. And people know Chris.

Girls are all over him. Asides from the obvious fact that he’s a triplet and most people think that’s interesting. Most people also think he’s hot.

But most people at our school are stupid anyway.

“You want one?” He asks nodding down to the cigarette in his hands.

It wasn’t like I’d never smoked before, but I’m not a smoker.

I shrug letting out a small “Why not”

I look back at Ethan, and I feel him cup my face with his hand. My lips parted in shock. he chuckles, He places his cigarette between my lips.

When he takes his hand off of my face I raise an eyebrow at him, taking the cigarette between my pointer and middle finger as I inhale it.

Taking the cigarette from my lips I go to speak again. I breathe out the smoke.

“Dude” I sigh, my tone sounds flatter than intended. but whatever.

I pause for a moment taking another drag. He was always known to carry some weed.

“You got any weed?” I ask handing him the cigarette.

He chuckles pulling out an already rolled blunt and tossing it over to me. “You’re pretty you know that?”

He says looking back at me. I raise my eyebrow picking up the rolled blunt and putting it in my purse. “Oh yeah?”

It sounds more cocky than it did in my head but oh well.

I probably look really cocky right now. With the way, I’m leaning back against the higher step behind me.

But whatever. Honestly, I’m too drunk to care.

I put the cigarette back between my lips breathing in the toxic smoke.

Okay, maybe crossfaded.

Pulling the cigarette from my lips, I hold it between two fingers as I take a sip of my drink in my solo cup.

“Yeah”

He looks at me like he genuinely thinks I’m pretty. And honestly, I like the attention, but I don’t know if I actually like it. It feels weird. But I don’t know if that’s just me being drunk and oblivious or something.

I hand him over the cigarette and he takes it from my fingers, taking a drag of it.

“You’re interesting.”

The words leave my lips before I know. He was. I don’t think he was middle class at all. And he was a stoner and a skater, of course, he is interesting.

“Is that a compliment?” He chuckles watching me as he smokes his cigarette.

I chuckle. I feel like I’m sobering up too much.

“Imma go inside pretty boy.”

And with that I’d gotten up, half stumbling to the door. As soon as I'm inside I brush through crowds of people.

Oh wow, that dude looks like Chris

I stop in my tracks as I narrow my eyes at the couple making out in the corner of the living room.

Hold on that is Chris.

Who the fuck is he kissing.

Poor girl

They shift slightly and even from across the room I can tell that he’s deepening the kiss.

I wait to see if they shift enough for me to see her face.

Chris turns her around, pinning her to the wall by her neck. Her entire face is in view.

Charlotte Baker.

I’ve known Charlotte since kindergarten. Chris had too. But I’ve known Chris longer than she has.

I thought he wasn’t into blondes?

I wouldn’t care who he kisses, we’re not exclusive or anything. But him kissing the very embodiment of what he is not into? The person I hate the most?

Well okay, I don’t really hate Charlotte. I severely dislike her. She’s a bitch. No literally. She’s always so rude. But I don’t know if that’s just me. She seems to have a particular hatred towards me.

They continue making out and honestly, I don’t want to see him stick his tongue down her throat- like he had done to me so many times.

I blink aggressively. I realize that people have been brushing past me and that I’d been staring so I move out of the way.

Leaning against the wall of the living room, right opposite where Chris has her pinned. I’m watching them. I know I am. But I can’t pull my eyes away from them.

It feels like I only have tunnel vision on them. And honestly I don’t know who I feel bad for more.

Chris, for kissing Charlotte, knowing she’s a bitch.

Or Charlotte, knowing she’s making out with a guy whose motto is literally ‘hit and quit’.

I can feel my throat burning as I sip on my red solo cup, which is probably filled with beer.

I sigh, I really need to sober up

I push myself off the wall shaking my head slightly. I go to the kitchen, pushing through the teens in my way. Honestly, I don’t know what time it is, but do I care tho.

I pour the liquid in the red solo cup down the drain, watching it. I lean against the counter over the sink closing my eyes for a second to stay focused.

But all I can really think of is Chris and Charlotte making out just a room away. And the thought disgusts me to the point I wanna throw up, but that could also be the alcohol.

God, I wish I could string together a coherent thought.

I glance over my shoulder. The kitchen is open to the living room and entry but from where I’m standing I can’t see them.

I go to the fridge pulling out a water bottle. The bottle is cold against my skin, and suddenly I’m aware of how I feel like I’m burning up.

With shaky hands, I open the bottle of water taking a sip. Letting the cold water flow down my throat and ease the burn of the alcohol I’d been drinking.

I blind furiously stare at the wall trying to sober up drinking half the bottle.

I sigh my eyes drifting back to the living room. I feel more sober than I did five minutes ago.

I can’t see them, so I walk to the other side of the kitchen trying to get a view of where they were without having to go back to the living room.

They’re not there.

My thoughts immediately go to dirtier places. Shaking my head I furrow my eyebrows, my body tensing up before I realize.

Fuck, ew, I don’t wanna think of that. The fuck.

I take another sip of the water trying really hard to sober up more.

But before I know it, I’m already stumbling up the steps.

So maybe I’m not as sober as I thought, what about it.

I think I’d decided to go upstairs to relax instead of outside because Ethan was still outside. And honestly, I’d left him, so if I came outside again he’d surely ask why I came back right?

I open a random door, leaning against the doorway. Staring into the room my eyes squinted.

Until my eyes fall on Chris… with Charlotte.

Them, making out, Charlotte on top of him while she is fumbling to undo his belt.

Chris’ eyes snap open staring at me. While kissing her. My jaw clenches as I stand frozen not moving to leave like I should’ve.

He breaks the kiss slightly, pushing Charlotte away but not letting go.

“Y/n. Leave”

His gruff voice says and my mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out.

When Charlotte hears my name, and sees he’s looking past her she looks over her shoulder her eyes locking her with mine.

A disgusted look crossed my face. Not that it was intentional, but Jesus was this sight ircking.

Did I look like that when I’m on top of Chris? Ew.

I shake my head slightly turning on my heel, slamming the door behind me.

Okay, maybe dealing with Ethan would’ve been easier than ever having to witness that.

I walk downstairs. That sight sobered me up more than all the water I just drank.

I card through the people again now annoyed with how many people are here. Christ i just want to be alone somewhere.

Going back outside I sit back down next to Ethan. He had moved to the side where I had been sitting. And now he was smoking some weed.

“Back already?”

His tone sounds amused, and now that I’m more sober I can clearly see him checking me out.

“You mind?” I raise an eyebrow turning more towards him. my eyes scanning his face.

He had those dark brown eyes. They were droopy and he had heavy bags under them. His hair did remind me of Chris’, it was almost the same shade. His hair was curlier than Chris’ tho and probably also a little longer. His jawline is sharp and-

Why the hell am I comparing this random cute skater boy to Chris?

“No” he chuckles and looks at me.

He looks kind, honestly.

I lean over taking the blunt from between his lips and putting them between my own.

“What, did you already smoke the blunt I just gave you?”

“So what if I did?”

I didn’t. It was still in my purse, but he didn’t need to know that. Maybe he’ll give me more.

I pull the blunt from my lips blowing the smoke right in his face. But he doesn’t even flinch at it.

He’s a stoner, of course, he wouldn’t.

He chuckles watching me, taking the blunt from my lips before I can take a drag. Grinning, he puts it between his own lips.

“ ‘ts fine. I have more” he mumbles around the blunt before inhaling properly.

“I see that” I chuckle watching him as he takes a drag.

He looks pretty like that. He looks painfully similar to Chris tho. He could almost be their lost brother. If he put in blue contacts that is.

That’s a stupid thought-

“So, you know the party is inside right? What’re you doing here?” I ask my curiosity taking over.

He chuckles blowing the smoke into my face like I had previously done to him. He puts the blunt between my lips.

“Don’t question me, pretty girl.” He chuckles. I raise an eyebrow but inhale from the blunt. Watching him pull the blunt to his own lips as I exhale.

“Yeah,” I chuckle watching him. I feel more sober than before, but the weed is making me feel things again. “Mhm, so don’t question me either.”

He raises an eyebrow, pulling the blunt from his lips. But before he can ask anything I'm climbing into his lap.

He’d been sitting there all sprawled out. And the weed was starting to hit me. I don’t know why I’d get on the lap of this random, hot, interesting guy. But, why not?

And if Chris can fuck someone else, I might as well have fun too.

He doesn’t tense up, probably as high as me, if not even more. He looks up at me on his lap looking so kissable.

Those lips that look like Chris’ are driving me crazy

“Making moves on me now sweetheart?” He chuckles putting the blunt between his lips again as he takes another drag. His eyes are already red, and mine are probably starting to get red too.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with me”

I answer without thinking. Being high, and slightly tipsy from earlier was making me bolder. And the way he looks at me gives me an ego boost.

I pull the blunt from his lips after he takes a drag of it. I chuckle, putting the blunt between my own lips and taking a drag.

“Oh but have I?”

After inhaling I pull the blunt from my lips. Putting it out on the porch steps next to us.

I lean over him my hand cupping his jaw as I kiss him blowing the weed smoke into his mouth.

Except we never pull apart. his hand goes to the back of my neck and my waist, as we start to make out heavily.

My arm wraps around his neck the other one holding him by his jaw as the kiss turns even more hearted.

His hand starts to tail down my waist, to my thigh. My left thigh. His hand grazes my bare skin, getting dangerously close to my ass, and my lacy thong than I would like.

We probably look like we’re trying to devour each other. Well, that’s at least how I feel. Until-

“What the fuck?”

Chris.

I pull away from Ethan abruptly. He looks at my face, then to where I am looking.

Chris is standing there in all his glory. His arms crossed, as he stands in front of the back door. All the way at the top of the steps, on the porch, looking down at us.

I clench my jaw. I wanna ignore him and go back to what I was doing but he was giving me that look. That look that promised trouble. He was telling me to come to him, without telling me.

I lean against Ethan pecking his jawline.

“I gotta go pretty boy”

I mumble under my breath before getting up from where I’d been on his lap and walking the few steps up the porch.

My tiny handbag is on my arm as I walk towards Chris. I pull down the back of my dress as I feel Chris' harsh grip on my upper arm.

“Upstairs you’re gonna regret that.” He says under his breath leaning in slightly so I can hear him.

I purse my lips opening the backdoor and walking in. Chris’ hand stays on my arm pulling me upstairs.

We enter some random room.

The same room that he fucked her in.

He presses a kiss to my head, leaning over me to undo the lace at the back of my dress. The back of the dress wasn’t open, but it had a lace to make it tight.

“You were gonna let him fuck you huh?” He mumbles kissing my jaw.

He locks the door and pulls his shirt over his head.

“Did you fuck her?” The words leave my lips before I think about it. I’m still high from all the weed I’d smoked.

“No.” He says pointedly. My eyes started to trail down his chest. A sight I’ve seen so many times before. “You cockblocked me”

He leans in kissing me as I just kiss back letting him take the lead.

“Did I?” I mock back. My tone is mildly condescending. My eyes glued on his. Those blue eyes piercing through my soul, he looks like he wants to eat me alive

“Yeah. How about you make it up to me, hm?” He says. His tone was ever so condescending and cocky.

I hadn’t even known he’d be at this party. And that makes me think, he was never the type to drink, so he was probably wanting to get laid.

But why wouldn’t he just call me?

I also hadn’t seen Nick or Matt anywhere, so I would assume that he’s here alone.

He hadn’t told me he’d be here. And honestly, I wouldn’t expect him to. After all, I still hate him, and he obviously hates me.

Before I can reply to his question his lips crash on mine again. My arms wrap around his neck, his hands firmly on my waist.

He pulls away from the kiss. He leans down to the hem of my dress to pull it over my head. I slip out of the dress as he just throws it somewhere carelessly. It landed next to his discarded shirt.

“Want you to ride me Ma”

“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. Looking him over. He starts to undo his jeans sliding out of them.

He looks over my lacy panties and matching bra. They’re plain black and simple. But Chris likes them.

Chris likes my body, but he hates me.

Before I know it we’re on the bed, Chris under me. I hover over his dick, as I slowly slide down in it.

I watch as Chris sighs throwing his head back further into the pillow under his head watching me.

“You like that?” I scoff. My words come out more rough and disgusted than I intended. He just.. god his existence pisses me off.

“Yeah ma,” his tone is sharp from the heavy breaths he’d been taking.

I lean down to him to kiss him. His hand stays on my waist while my hand is on his chest the other one next to his head to steady myself.

He suddenly grabs my face, holding me by my chin. I look down at him waiting for him to talk.

“Where you gonna fuck him like this too?”

He asks his tone sharp still. But now because he is disgusted and angry, not because he’s breathing hard.

“No. Fuck me like you mean it”

He snaps staring back up at me. He lets go of my face pushing me back. I scoff leaning away to sit up again. His hand goes back to my waist waiting for me to move.

I start to move on it again. Slowly grinding into him. My hand which had been next to his head, trails from his collarbone down his chest to his abdomen. Until I pull my hand off of him.

I start to bounce on it more. Now, not just rocking my hips, but fully riding him.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my dick like the fucking slut you are.”

I hear his breaths get sharper again. His hand trails lower to my hips as he starts to pull me down, intensifying my movements.

I can feel him hit my cervix with every thrust. This angle is heavenly.

The harder I start to ride him, the harsher his grip on my hips gets.

I feel a knot building In my stomach. My movements get sloppier as a result. My eyes shut for a moment as my mouth falls open.

Suddenly I feel a harsh slap on my ass. My eyes snap open as I glare down at Chris.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He says lowly, his voice gruff and laced with lust

I feel him start to move me more than I move myself. “Fuck- Chris” I breathe out as I fall forward. My hands landed on each side of his head to steady myself. My moans echoed through the room.

He starts to fuck up into me. thrusting into my core, while moving me on him to watch his pace. His eyes are locked to where we connect, to where he is fucking me.

“I’m so close-“ I breathe out staring down at him. His pretty blue eyes meet mine again.

“Go on. cum for me, slut”

He starts to pick up pace even more, if that was even possible. The eye contact makes this just that much more intense.

He glances down at my lips and then licks his own. My mouth falls open in a silent Moran watching him, not daring to close my eyes.

At this point, I had fully drowned out the sound of the music from the party downstairs. It was already only a mild hum as we got upstairs. But now this intense feeling of being filled like this was making me forget anything and everything, other than the boy currently under me.

“Come” he demands. I feel another harsh slap on my ass, making y body jolt.

The knot in my stomach snaps. My entire body tenses and I struggle to keep myself up

But Chris holds me in place as he fucks me through it, the continuous brush to my cervix only intensifying the pleasure further.

He slows down, not moving anymore as I come down from my high. This type of high felt better than any drug ever could.

I sit up wincing at the fact that he was still buried deep inside of me.

“Should’ve known I was gonna end up fucking you anyway” he chuckles watching my expression.

He pulls me up slightly, his length slipping out of me. before abruptly switching our positions. He is now on top of me staring down at him.

He taps my arm grinning. “Turn around for me Cherry.”

Cherry, a nickname he had given me when we were just six or so. I’d been eating a bunch of cherries that summer. Chris had loved the fruit, but he hated me. So to mock my love for them he started calling me Cherry.

And it stuck. His brothers also called me that. And then later my other friends. And then basically everyone I knew, and was close to.

It was a cute nickname. But the nickname was born out of hatred and annoyance. Even tho Chris had loved cherries as much as I had, he’d pointedly stopped eating them after that year of my obsession with them.

I’ll see him sometimes have one, but he would never admit that he still liked cherries.

I hum still catching my breath as I turn around.

I prop myself up on my hands and knees, looking over my shoulder. His hand rubbed over my ass. Him deliberately running his length up my slit to coat it in my juices again.

He looks up his eyes meeting mine. And before I knew it he was ramming into me. My eyes widen as I turn to look back in front of me. He immediately picks up a steady and fast pace.

Fucking into me from behind. My core was throbbing around his length, either from too much stimulation, or too little..

He starts to rock his hips into me harder. My moans echo through the room loudly.

My arms start to shake as I struggle to keep myself up.

He grabs my hair roughly, putting it into a makeshift ponytail. He starts to pull on it, using it both as leverage, but also to hold me up.

“Such a tight cunt, all for me” he chuckles using his free hand to spank my ass again.

I clench at the dirty words. And the way his low voice is laced with so much obvious arousal and lust. And the way he is thrusting into me from behind.

If I had to guess I’d probably say, anything from behind is his favorite. Doggy, face down ass up, whatever.

I don’t know if that I’d because he doesn’t want to see me, or if he is just an ass guy, or both, but it doesn’t matter, since it feels good.

He slams into me harshly again, before stopping his movements. I groan in annoyance. I feel the knot in my stomach fades.

Was he fucking edging me now too?

“C’mon” he says harshly slapping My ass again. “Work that ass”

Before I know it I’m already moving. Thrusting my ass back into him. Twerking back on his dick. He tugs at my hair again. I feel his stare at my ass. He was probably looking over the way his big dick disappeared into me.

“Yeah, good girl,” he says in that low sexy tone. His hand moves out of my hair, tailing down to my waist. His other hand trailed from my hip to my waist too.

Suddenly he holds me still and starts to thrust into me again. His thrusts were seemingly harsher than they were before.

I squeal out a moan, my head turning to look over my shoulder.

His pretty eyes focused on my ass. His grip was harsh on my waist. He lets out harsh breaths.

I feel him move slightly, readjusting, his hand going to the small of my back to arch my back slightly. His thrust picks up again and I instinctively Lean lower. My hands quickly guided out making my face fall onto the pillow.

But instead of trying to get up again, I simply lay my upper body down, my arms wrapping around the pillow.

I moan and whine his name over and over again. He has the best mix of sweet and dirty talk. Always degrading but also praising me at the same time.

My back arches back into him “Chris- I’m close” I whine loudly getting cut off by another string of moans leaving my lips.

“Hold it.” He grits out. His hips snap into me harder. His dick grazed every spot making me feel like I’m in heaven. “I’m close too”

The sound of skin clapping and the dirty wet sounds coming from my cunt is loud. He slaps into me repeatedly, my eyes starting to water from the effort it takes not to come at the spot.

“You’re not gonna come before me” he demands his thrusts getting more sloppy and messy. I can feel his dick twitching inside of me as I know he is close too. normally he'd just let me whenever, but it was really dependent on his mood

“Understood, be a good slut and listen ‘aight?” He scoffs his grip on my waist bruising.

I throw myself back in him, meeting his thrust.

“Yes, god- please” I whine. And suddenly I feel Chris’ hips stutter. With one last thrust, I feel his load spill into me.

I continue to move myself back against him tho, feeling my own orgasm wash over me.

He pulls out slowly, but not really gently. He watches for a moment as our combined juices leak out of me.

I sigh heavily trying to catch my breath as I lay down on this stranger's bed fully.

I turn to my side for a moment. Chris rubs over my side and back. He leans down leaving a short peck on my ribs. Caressing my skin.

My eyes meet his again, and he looks… cold.

He doesn’t look like he’d just fucked me. He just looked at me blankly. The caressing didn’t feel like it was out of care and a will to comfort, but rather a force of habit.

He gets up from the bed, and I just watch him as he gets some tissues cleaning himself off quickly before getting dressed again.

I sigh turning full onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. This would be when he leaves.

Fuck, what if Evelyn noticed me going upstairs with Chris?

She knows we hate each other. It’s hard to explain. But I can’t just explain everything to her, it’s a secret. Id have to come up with some excuse and-

“Get up” his harsh voice breaks me out of my trance, my head snapping towards him.

“What?” I ask back flatly, my mind not registering why he is still standing there with his arms crossed.

I feel a chill run up my spine from how cold and uncaring he looks with that glare. The one he always gives me when we’re arguing.

“Get the fuck up? Did you lose that many brain cells?” He scoffs looking back at me.

I glance down at my nude body and then back at Chris. I try to get up as carefully as possible. Trying to get as little as possible of our juices onto this stranger's bed.

I mildly struggle to stand, leaning back at the bed frame to keep myself up straight.

He looks almost proud of the state he put me in. But the disgust in his eyes is stronger.

“Why the fuck are you still here?”

My tone is low but still harsh. I close my eyes for a second, sighing in annoyance.

He looks around the room, before fining and picking up my previously discarded panties.

He licks his teeth for a second before huffing.

He opens them for me. I raise an eyebrow, but ultimately just step through the thong, my hands on his shoulders for support. I let him Pull it up.

Cringing at the feeling of the lingering creampie and the fabric on me.

He wasn’t gonna a bother cleaning me?

“Go on.” He huffs looking back into my eyes as I look into his.

“Walk downstairs, go back to that party, back to that dude. Let him fuck you.” He shrugs his words harsh. He back up slightly looking down at my thighs where he can still see the juices run down my thighs.

“I’m sure you’d like having more than one guy cum in you, right?” He mocks leaning into me again. His glare burns into my face, making me feel like I’m naked, which I am.

“Since you’re such a slut, you probably wouldn’t mind fucking more than one guy right?”

He scoffs leaning away abruptly.

I look at him. My shock subsides as a glare settles on my face. I get that he likes degrading me or whatever, But does he actually think I’m that much of a slut.

“Go on, cherry.” He scoffs tilting his head as he looks over his shoulder his gaze locked on mine.

Why does he always have to ruin good moments?

“Fuck you, Chris.” I say back harshly my tone purely rude.

“Oh, you already have.”

I pause dumbfounded.

I didn’t mean it literally. But I mean I had done that, literally.

The harsh smack of the door catches my attention. I lock back over at the door.

He had left.

God, in hindsight that was a stupid insult. I could’ve said something more creative.

I purse my lips staring a f the door. Before my eyes trail over the now-empty room. The room was pretty neat, except for my clothing scattered around.

Right when I think I tolerate him,

Right after he makes me feel so good,

He’ll do the simplest thing,

And ruin it.

God I hate him.

Masterlist

A/N: looks like this is going to be a series lol

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin

#Spotify #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #fanfic series

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elliesmainhoe · 1 year

Text

PLAYER TWO

Streamer!Ellie X fem!Reader

Summary: Ellie's introduces you to her stream

(Set early in their relationship and when Ellie's channel was still small 💙)

Contents: fluff, swearing/cursing, body shaming a cat lmao, sitting on Ellie's lap, kisses, references to social anxiety.

Part 2 - Part3

My Masterlist

It had been 6 hours since Ellie had disappeared into the abyss you called your guest bedroom and now Ellie's newly turned office. Her rooms grey walls were plastered in posters of a various games and bands she liked. LED lights ran around the ceiling, usually on the blue setting, sending the hue beaming out through the crack underneath the white paneled door.

Your small ginger cat was scratching irritably at her offices door. "Garfield stop it," you hissed at him, giggling at the ridiculous name Ellie chosen out for your chunky British shorthair.

"Garfield, I'm serious" you hushed at the creature, picking up the skittish chonk from Ellie's door. Garfield let out a loud, dramatic 'Yowww' throwing his head back. you sighed "You really want Ellie cuddles right now huh"

"meow"

"yeah, me too..." You looked at the beautifully majestic ginger chunk of a cat and sighed in pity for yourself. "Fine go in then..." You whispered at him, grabbing the brass handle and slowly nudging the wooden door ajar, letting Garfield scutter in enthusiastically, before shutting the door again.

Ellie was caught off guard as a fuzzy orange thing flung itself onto her lap, making her hands stop button smashing her keyboard angrily.

"Oh hey Garf"

User: Omg he's so cute 😭🥲

User1: Give me the baby. Now.

User2: Bro how did he get in here, didn't Ellie shut her door?

User3: Garf? As in garfield?

Ellie's hands grasped the cat turning him in a Simba like fashion towards the camera.

"This is Garfield, if you couldn't tell he has a super power to walk through walls" she joked, obviously realising that her chat was curious about how he got into the enclosed office.

User 4: He's fat

"Do not talk to my child that way." She snapped sarcastically, covering his ears with her palms "he's plump." She corrected before letting out a breathy laugh.

The cat began purring incredibly loudly, now laying across her keyboard vibrating the desk with every exhale of breath.

She picked up her phone discreetly, texting you a quick.

Ells: Gonna have to gaslight my chat into thinking our cat can phase through walls now.

Ells: Oh the things I do for you

You: He was being so annoying thoughhh

Ells: Garf is never annoying, he is perfect in everyway. You're just in denial.

You :🙄

User5: nah but how did it get in

User6: Ghostcat?!?!?

"Yes this is my ghost cat, it seems like he's going to chill with us for a bit.... Aren't you baby~?" she cooes at the purring creature scratching underneath his chin.

Just outside the closed office door, you were pacing back and forth. Shit... Why the fuck did you let the cat in her room, that was the stupidest shit you've ever done. Now everyone was going to know Ellie lived with someone. Then maybe they'll investigate, because some of her fans might be nutjobs. What if they dig something embarrassing up of you?!?

"shit, shit ,shit, shit, idiot, idiot, fucking idiot." Damn you and you're soft heart when it comes to cats.

"Y/N. Just forget it happened, go to bed sleep it off, yeah let's just... Sleep it off..." You mutter to yourself, sulking off to bed in defeat.

•••••

"Hey... Hey baby... Wake upppppp~~" she whines squishing your cheeks with her hand, stirring from your slumber. "Hmm hi Ells..."

At the confirmation you were awake she started peppering your face with kisses. "I made you coffee, I tried to make pancakes but I uh burnt them, so ughh toast?!" She smiles suspiciously giddy.

"oh thank you baby," you murmur back, slowly sitting up, back against the bed's backboard and begining to sip your coffee.

"I don't know how you can stomach that liquid, it tastes like shit."

"It is gross, but I can't physically function without it" you looked over at her, she was showing you puppy eyes. Suspicious.

"What did you do ells...?" You sighed

"Last night I may or may not have accidentally let it slip that uhh, I had a uh girlfriend." She stammered, smiling sheepishly at you " And I was wondering and you can obviously say no!! Like no pressure at all, but I was wondering if you feel ready yet to be introduced by my stream" she rushed out words practically incoherent, and if you didn't know her so we'll you wouldn't have been able to understand.

"you can even bring Garfield with you for emotional support!" She chirped happily.

"I don't know baby... I don't know if they'll like me, all my friends know me for being awkward on camera."

"Listen to me right now. You are the most amazing, beautiful, funny, charismatic and smartest girlfriend, person and mother to our fur baby to ever exist. If they don't absolutely love you then they're blind and have no taste. But they will absolutely love you! Because I love you!" She says enthusiastically, a stupid smile spread on her face as she wraps her arms around you, placing sloppy kisses onto your cheek.

"Pfft" you say, her enthusiasm and happiness seeping from her into yours "okay, I can do that...I think" "You will!!! You'll do amazing!" She squeals "I'm so excited!"

"Gosh, your like a puppy Ells" you chuckle, petting and playing with her hair. She let out a quiet 'hmph' as she nuzzled into your neck happily.

•••••

It was 6:55pm, Ellie had started her stream, the words 'STARTING SOON' sprawled across the monitor, blocking out the view of the viewers, It was unnerving, siting Infront of a camera, and one push of a button hundreds of people would see you. Ellie was sat next to you, swiveling on the dark blue gaming chair absentmindedly.

"y'know baby, you don't have to be so rigid, or quiet, they can't see or hear you yet."

"I can't do it Ells..." You mumbled out. "Hey babe, you absolutely can." she reassured you grabbing your hand, and squeezing it slightly. "How about this. You sit on the couch, out of view with Garfield, and once I've done the intro you can come say hi. Hows that sound?" She asked softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Nodding in conformation you shuffled out of view for the camera sitting next to your curled up cat, petting him as he purred loudly, pushing up against your palm. You tapped your phone screen, it lit up revealing the photo of you and Ellie in a photo booth on your first date to an arcade.

Infront of your smiling faces, the time was shown.

06:59:55

06:59:56

06:59:57

06:59:58

06:59:59

07:00:00

"Hey guysssss!"

It took ten minutes for Ellie to finish the introduction, answering questions, thanking donators and talking to moderators.

"Right so, before we start I have a suprise for you guys" she spoke happily, eyes flicking towards you expectantly. You picked up Garfield, your heart immediately slowed and cradled him like a baby in your arms as you entered the frame.

Ellie had moved the extra chair from the frame, trying to keep the suprise as unexpected as she could for her chat. You stood somewhat awkwardly for a second or two saying a quick "hi" to the camera, you looked at Ellie eyes slightly wide with nerves.

She pats her thigh, gesturing you to sit down. "This chat, is my girlfriend"

User7: I ❤️ lesbians

User8: Ugh I'm jealous.

User9: Is Ur gf single?

User10: forget Ellie I want her gf 🤤

Your eyes everted the chat, trying to focus solely on your cat and to not read the comments, when a robotic voice, you recognized as a donators announcement, caught you off guard.

User11 donated $25 'Bro she's so pretty.'

"Oh um thanks *user11*" you hummed. "Told you they would like you" Ellie said, smirking in content.

"shut up."

"never."

---------

Here you go!!! I finally finished it. It's not great but it's done!

Part Two

Streamer!Ellie Headcanons

NOT PROOFREAD

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factual-fantasy · 1 month

Note

RRRRRAH IT CANT BE I MISSED AN ASK TO RANT ABOUT HOW MICH I LOVE TUNA NOOOOO

this has been a week huh? I got sick an all 🫡 BUT

LOUIS HAVING A CRUSH ON ELLIE WOULD BE THE SWEETEST RHING EVERRRRRR

LIKE HE WOULD BE ALL:

AND SHELL IGNORE HIM BECAUSE HES SO- WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

WOULD HE BE LIKE TOM?? FROM TOM AND JERRY?? WITH THAT ONE FEMALE CAT?? ALL IDIOT AND JALEUS IN AN IDIOT WAY????? IM SO CURIOUSSSSSS

what romantic kind is Luois? The akward one? The winner spirit? The handsome prince? The actually decent? The in denial? The not in any way obvious? The quiet? I feel like he wouldn't say a word, but he'll be obvious (Ellie would see him acting nicely to her and be like: "finally some respect")

If Ellie found out what would she do? Probably nothing if I think of it, maybe she'll be like: "it's a phase, you'll grow our of ir if I'm lucky". She's so done with everyone but fish (he loves the crew but fish are fish)

tell me about them, I know probably Luois is a decent cookie being with his feelings and doesn't do much because "getting attached like this to a coworker isn't that much of a great idea", but tell me PLEAAAASEEEEEE

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHAAAAAA

TUNAAAAAA I MISS MY BOY HOW'S HE BEEN DOINGGGGG DID HE ATE? DID HE DRINK? DID HE SLEEP? DID HE WOKE UP FROM A NIGHTMARE OR FROM THE TUNATASTIC DREAM EVER?

I don't know if you have told me before, but how is his relationship with Urchin? She seems like someone he can mess up with and then she'll mess him up way worse (in a sibling way if you get me)

XD hey you can ramble on about how much you love Tuna whenever! There's no set time XDD and I'm sorry to hear that you've been sick. :( I hope you feel better soon! :}

As for Louis and Ellie, I haven't really thought it through a whole lot.. would Ellie feel the same way? What kind of romantic is Louis? I'm not sure of much of that.. but this ask did give me a drawing idea. XD

Perhaps Louis is very confident and charismatic in most areas of his life. But when he's met with romantic interest in a woman? And being unsure if said woman feels the same?? Suddenly he's shaking in his boots and keeping his feelings locked up all over again. It's probably a similar situation to Blue and Seafoam. He's unsure if Ellie feels the same and doesn't want to risk damaging or altering their current friendship.

And don't be mistaken about Ellie. She isn't heartless or cold, her body language is just hard to read! She really is a sweetheart and loves her crew to bits. That's why Louis is interested in the first place- he knows that underneath that grumpy exterior she's a real catch. It just so happens that her grumpy exterior makes it hard to tell if she feels the same! <XD

As for Tuna, he's been doing well I'm sure! Eating, drinking, sleeping and all that XD Now his relationship with Urchin.. hmm.. well, Urchin is really chill and easy going. I imagine she has a fair bit of patience to deal with any of Tunas shenanigans. Perhaps they'd be good friends! Especially when Tuna eventually lightens up around the crew :}

Thank you once again for the ask and interest in my ocs!! :DD It makes me heart very happi :}} 💞💞

#my response #also using this ask to try out drawing on paper and posting that #already have a few notes to self-#draw bigger next time #use a better pen #leave more room around the drawing so it can be cropped easier-#noted! <XD #cookie run #cookie run ocs #my ocs #cookie run kingdom

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dreamerdeity · 6 months

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑-𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀

*ೃ𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Megumi Fushiguro x Fem. Reader

*ೃ𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.8k

*ೃ𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: You're at constant odds with your long-time academic rival Megumi Fushiguro. You swear up and down you hate his guts, and a lost bet on your part only further adds salt to the wound when you find out he's outranked you yet again. But when he finds you at a barren classroom after school, he offers you a different way to pay off what you owe.

*ೃ𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Hair-pulling, oral sex (m. receiving), face-fucking, mean-ish Megumi, cursing, choking, slight degrading kink. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, others, please proceed at your own risk!

*ೃ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Hi babes I'm finally back from the dead fr this time (i'm lying) and ready to finish up the kinktober series. I've been having a Megumi phase recently (i think a more accurate statement would be "jjk men phase") and just had to include him because the academic rival Megumi concept has been eating at my brain for months. Anywayssss, as always, please do not report my work! If you are uncomfortable, do not read.

⇄ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Stupid. Utterly stupid and almost comical is what this is, and a terrible way to end your last year of school at that. Especially after all the relentless hard work and sleepless nights you've put in, but you're thinking maybe, just maybe if you hadn't overplayed your hand so rashly, you wouldn't be stuck in this infuriating predicament right now, staring up at the big blue letters on the wall in silent mortification as throngs of students stride purposefully away from you, knowing not to agitate a ticking bomb during tragic times like these.

He beat you by a whisker, that damned Megumi Fushiguro, that's what you tell yourself. No, actually scratch that. He was bound to beat you and now you're reaping what you sowed, because just what were you thinking last week? Strutting over to the conceited dickhead and betting on the so called "guaranteed prospect" (your own words) of outranking him once finals season closed at last. Not so guaranteed now, it seems, as this stupid list hangs haphazardly taped onto the wall, glaring back at you like it had eyes of its own, almost like it's taunting you.

Number 4.

Your eyes dart indignantly over the chart, hoping your name would magically climb up to first and free you of an inevitable and very awkward (more likely than not, also heated) encounter with Megumi later. Megumi, who so conveniently happened to place not one, not two, but a whopping three places above you, and now it was only a matter of time before he joined the huddle of students by the wall with a chin so high and a face so smug it would make for the perfect punching bag. He'll probably clear his throat, side eye you with a stupid smirk, then proceed to finish what the list started, taunting and jibing at you some more.

Frankly, you don't even have the money you promised in the event that you lost the bet to him, because you were so certain you'd make it. I mean, you've done it before—countless times before—so why was this happening? Why did he have to—

Speak of the devil.

Much to your dismay, a familiar scent of orchid and freshly-brewed coffee faintly weaves its way into the air and saturates your surroundings out of the blue, one that preceded Megumi wherever he went, and at this point it has become almost distressing to catch a whiff of it. A scent that immediately ignited your fight-or-flight-response. You're not so sure how long you've been disassociating here, but Megumi has taken stand beside you, humming thoughtfully, not a word leaving his mouth as his eyes leisurely scan over the senior class ranking list, too leisurely almost, like he was fully expecting this. Talk about conceited.

You know he wants to break you, to silently chip at your confidence until you can't bear but say something unprovoked, because he loves, loves antagonizing you, seeing you get all worked up with a pout and a grip to his collar, though you've become progressively harder to irritate lately and he hasn't really been able to come to terms with it for some reason. Either because your ignoring him bruises his pride, or because—Actually no, that's the only reason, he thinks.

The oppressive silence on his part is almost suffocating, and you make a point of letting out a loud exasperated sigh, arms crossed, your eyes focused ahead and foot tapping against the rubber flooring, intent on standing your ground and not yielding to his patronizing stare. Megumi looks down at you from the corner of his eye, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek in an attempt to suppress the growing smirk that tugs at his lips, which fails terrifically and only further agitates you. There's a mutual and silent understanding between the two of you that the rankings on the wall spoke for themselves—as much as you hate to admit it.

"Would you fucking stop that?"

"Oh so you can see me." Asshole. He bites back as his lips finally break into the grin he's been holding in this whole time, full attention on you now that you've given him something to work with. "I didn't say anything though."

"You were eventually going to."

"I wasn't."

"Move."

This is the last thing you need at a time like this. Fuck grades, Fuck this. Fuck him. You're turning on your heel and brushing past him harshly, and had you been looking at Megumi, you'd have noticed that haughty exterior of his breaking ever so slightly, face falling, but he expertly regains his bearings in a beat, as the teasing nudges of his friends and his snickering fade behind your retreating figure. You maneuver through the crowded hallway and pray he'd have enough sense in him to leave you alone right now. Just this once. Just long enough for you to digest the bitter disappointment bubbling within you. Star student. You hated that term, and yet here you were sulking over someone else snatching the childish title away. Constantly holding yourself to such high standards that bordered on unrealistic rendered you academically insatiable, and there was only one other person who matched your fervor. Him, and fuck was it annoying, unsettling even.

"Hey, I still haven't had my fun yet. Where're you going?" Megumi trots through the students, the slight curl of his lips not faltering as he catches up to you with a little skip to his step. Of course he'd be giddy. Who wouldn't be after placing first out of the entire senior class—Placing above you?

"Fuck you, Megumi." You really, really don't need this right now, and you're spitting the words out venomously, picking up your pace and hoping to somehow out-speed him before he gets to speak his stupid mind.

He ignores your petulant front and carries on regardless, of course he does. When has he ever heeded your warnings, really? A sardonic grin is plastered across his face as he cocks his head to the side, snorting childishly at your sullen face. "Quit moping. I was gonna outrank you whether you liked it or not." The sing-songy lilt to his voice has you reaching for his collar, but he roughly swats your hand away, pretend-dusting off his shoulder as he continues in mock sympathy with slow, solemn nods to himself. "But man, I saw that calc grade of yours. A 75, was it? Must be tough."

Asshole, part two.

If passive-aggressive were a living, walking person, you're sure it would be him, lock, stock, and barrel. He's so unbothered about the whole situation too, and it's that toxic indifference that makes you feel as though you owe him some kind of response, that makes you grit your teeth in irritation, fist so ready to meet his jaw if it wasn't for your honorable reputation. You find yourself trying to come up with some bogus justification as to why you failed so miserably (in your eyes, that is), anything to save whatever face you've got left, because god knew he wasn't the only one with a massive ego around here.

"Have you got nothing better to do, huh? Always attached to my hip like you're obsessed with me or something. Get a fucking life." No justification leaves your mouth, just...whatever the hell that was, and you watch him narrowly as you lean against the doorframe of your next class, and his eye twitches. Right, he loves antagonizing you, but he just remembered how much he hates the part where you do it back.

"That's rich coming from you." Megumi gives you his signature customer service smile, the one you've come to see on him when you know he's practically seething underneath the surface. Fun.

"Ahh spike hair is mad."

"Mad about what? You're the one with a B in calc. A terrible rank too."

"You're justifying. You're mad."

"I'm not?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does it hurt your fragile ego when I point out a truth you can't deny?"

Man, he could really use a coffee right now; Caffeine-induced palpitations seem much more pleasant than these ones your big mouth with its noxious words are giving him, but he just stares down at you, silent, expression unreadable, features etched into something you can't quite understand, and you almost begin to feel small under his scrutiny, how he venomously chews you up and spits you out with his eyes alone.

A few long beats of unwavering eye contact and, "You're annoying as hell." He grunts out finally and slumps his shoulders a little, features falling back into their usual neutrality as he turns to walk away. A hypocrite, you think. I mean, he's been psychologically terrorizing you for the past four years—well, maybe that's a little too dramatic of a way to put it—but every time you bit right back at him, he'd get all sulky like some melodramatic kid who was denied ice cream. Well surprise, two can fucking play his game.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You think the day couldn't have gone any slower as you pack your belongings. You want to head back home immediately and have the longest nap of the year, but there's a distant voice in the back of your head that nags at you to do some calculus practice somewhere until the horde of departing students charging through the hallway dissipates. The crowded premises are not really why you find yourself hunching over the desk solving math problems at some empty classroom you've never been inside before though, and you know that.

Much to your chagrin, you let Megumi's passing comments get to you—for the hundredth time probably, but who's counting? There's not much you can do to fix that abomination of a grade on your calc final, but what you can do is put in work to make sure it never happens again, to make sure you beat him next time, and so you labor away. Unrelenting focus blocks out the noise of thudding backpacks and empty chatter for what doesn't feel like long at all. It takes one raise of your head toward the window for you to see that you've royally lost track of time, the amalgam of pinks and oranges swirling above the clouds and painting the classroom in soft, warm sheens of amber.

You lean your arms over the desk, burying your face in between them with a satisfied exhale, you've made progress. You can tell. Great, that's great—

Never mind, this isn't great; A muffled racket somewhere in the hallway seeps lightly through the cracked door and scatters your train of thought. Megumi and his clique have probably just left debate club, you think. The clacking of boots against rubber draws closer, and you recognize the footsteps. Is it weird that you can recognize the rhythm of his footsteps.

Definitely weird, yeah. Or maybe it's survival instincts.

"Look who it is." Megumi lightly kicks the door open, very unceremoniously, hands stuffed in his pockets as he saunters inside, absently rolling a taffy around his mouth.

Here we go again."What?"

He shrugs, "Last time I checked this was public property. Do I need permission to be within your vicinity or somethin'?" He slowly strides toward the back of the class where you're seated, eyes narrowing a little in amusement as he halts in front of your desk and leans down to your eye-level. "Besides, don't you owe me a couple hundred?"

Right, the bet...

"So you're here for the money."

"Mhm."

"Well I don't have it. I'll get it tomorrow, so you're free to leave. Also, it's kind of embarrassing of you coming in here to beg for a couple hundred yen."

"Huh..." He exhales softly, still chewing on that taffy that seems to never melt away and standing back upright. He's watching you from head to toe, silently—again. He fucking does that a lot. And you're pretty vexed at his lack of reaction toward your jab, scoffing in annoyance and rising from your seat, mirroring his eyes with a scrutinizing glare of your own.

"Yeah, you're right." He finally says, and it takes you a moment to process the impossible declaration. Did he just agree with you? Where's the silver lining? There's got to be one somewhere, right?

"What do you mean?"

"Y'know... I was thinking," Megumi trails off under his breath as he rounds the table slowly, hands still stuffed in the warmth of his tailored pockets. His gaze is searing, predatory almost, like he could pounce on you at any given moment and do to you whatever he pleased—whatever that may be—with no witnesses to lend their testament, no saviors and no teachers to reprimand him for his tactics. He doesn't elaborate on what he said yet, stepping forward once, twice, thrice, as you step back in response. Until you're practically cornered against the wall. "We could forget about the money. I've got a different prize for me in mind."

Ah, there it is. The silver lining.

His ambiguous words stir something hot within you. Dread, yes, but also something else you'd rather not think about, because this is fucking weird. It's weird how your thoughts immediately drifted there. It's weird how whatever snide remark you wished to spew at him was swallowed back in apprehension. And it's weird how your heart stuttered so bad against your chest at his proximity.

"Cat got your tongue?" Megumi tilts his head to the side. He's so close, so close you can smell the caramel on his breath, see the lone freckle dusting the bridge of his nose.

You're shaking yourself out of the momentary stupor and raising your chin in defiance. "That still doesn't explain what you mean."

"I mean..." His voice dips lower, as if afraid of breaking the tension that's weaved itself around the two of you. He doesn't finish, only plucking his hands out of his pockets and bringing one to languidly trace along your jaw, slowly, softly, out of character. You're frozen in your spot, looking up at him with quizzical features and an unbearable heat where his fingers brush against your skin.

Megumi wasn't so sure when the distant but awfully persistent voice in his head took over his reason, but what he was very sure about was what he's about to do next. His hands come to cup your cheeks, tilting his head to the side and leaning dangerously close. His breath is fanning over your jaw, and he nudges it with his nose, then trailing back up until his lips are hovering over yours again, and he waits. Unmoving, lingering, and well, fuck it. Fuck this. You don't resist, you don't push him away, you let him, pressing your lips to his as roughly as he does his to yours, briefly savoring the sweet taste of taffy that seeps against your mouth.

"Mmph..." Megumi groans all muffled and almost desperate if it wasn't for the rough grip he had to the nape of your neck, forcibly slipping his tongue into your mouth with no warning, no care as to whether you want him to or not, because you were his prize after all. Not the other way around. His hands fall to roam over your body, toying with your clothed breasts and squeezing harder over them when he hears your initial yelp of surprise dissipate down to a whimper.

How perfect your lips felt against his, how pretty you looked all flushed and disoriented. Right, pretty. Why had he never taken the time to absorb your features before? Carve them into his mind like a sculptor enamored by the dents and ridges of his stone? He was stuck in a loop of competitive attitude and haughty remarks, ego so high up it clouded all else that swirled in his mind. He doesn’t voice any of these thoughts, or more so refuses to do so. He was extremely reticent about this sort of thing. About everything, really, because admitting to them out loud will make you the winner in this situation. He doesn’t want that. He never does. He’s got to stay on top, in more ways than one, come to think of it right now, so he pulls away, panting lightly, lips still hovering over yours as he hisses against them. "Get down."

...?

The brazen request hangs in the air for a moment, nothing but the faded buzzing of the air conditioner reverberating throughout the classroom.

"W-what?" You stare at him blankly, registering, an oppressive silence engulfing the two of you. You don't think you heard that right, or, put a little more accurately, you didn't want to think you heard that right. You know exactly just what he means, yet you can't help the way your eyes widen and your brow furrows at the implication of his very straightforward order, because frankly you thought he just wanted to make out, but damn it he wants more.

"'Said get down." He repeats. Simply. Like his request was the most obvious thing in the world with the way he shrugs at you so nonchalantly, eyeing you down like you were stupid to think he wasn't going to push further. So entitled, and it almost offends you. Almost.

You scoff bitterly, shaking your head at him incredulously as your eyes bore into his, neither of you faltering in the slightest as you engage in some sort of staring contest, some wordless battle of attrition to make the other yield compliantly. You stare up at him. He stares down at you for what feels like hours, quirks an eyebrow when you don't budge, and just as he's about to open his mouth and say something that'll irritate you even more, you plop down to your knees with a disgruntled sigh.

To say Megumi was surprised would be an understatement. I mean, he tried, like really tried to act unbothered by your pliant gesture, to compose himself a little better, but fuck did the sight of you on your knees for him make him hard. He can't help the pink that creeps up his cheeks when you look up at him, sniggering at the disoriented look on his face. So fucking embarrassing, he thinks, and turns away with a click of his tongue, the back of his hand lathered over the lower half of his face.

" 'Fuck are you looking at?" He snaps at you a little too defensively, hoping the faux irritation laced into his voice was convincing enough.

"Isn't this what you wanted? What else am I supposed to look at?" You cock your head with an innocent grin (malicious would be a better term, he knew you better than anybody around here after all), only adding salt to the wound.

"You're annoying as hell."

"Yeah, you've said that only like a million times but you're fucking worse." You bite back as you always do, but this time you earn a hard tug to the back of your hair from Megumi. Grip unfaltering, he yanks it upward and leans down toward your face. It startles you, the sudden change in dynamic. "Fuckin' hate when you talk back to me. Gonna shut you up."

You know better than to argue with that, folding your hands in your lap, watching him hook his thumb under the hem of his pants and glide it left to right and back again, other hand still interlaced in your hair. It's uncharacteristic of you, to let him order you around like this, you never let him order you around like this. You've always been the one to abuse your power and tug him by his collar every time he annoyed you, because despite his horrible personality, you knew he'd never raise a hand to a woman. But this? Fuck, you're almost scared to say or do the wrong thing with the way he's glaring freshly sharpened daggers at you, and he notices, he basks in the power trip, he smiles so mean, takes his sweet time unbuckling his belt above you with clanks that echo through the deafening silence of a barren school after sunset.

His belt comes undone, revealing the bulge that strains against his boxers, and at the realization of what you're inevitably about to do, your eyes flit nervously toward the door. A passing thought really, but a thought nonetheless; What if somebody were to walk in right now, to see the ever so cordial, diligent you on her knees for a man she swore up and down she hated? What if—

"You scared?" A taunting lilt to his voice, it's as though he read your mind. Megumi peeks down at you and loosens his grip on the back of your head, pushing it toward him and bringing your face closer to where he wants you most, completely relaxed with not a hint of anxiety in his demeanor.

"Like hell I am." Fuck does he think he is? No, you're not scared, not when he sucks in a breath as your hand comes up to palm at his clothed erection. You're watching him intently, unrelenting gaze scorching through him and scanning his face for even the slightest change in expression. He maintains the eye contact and waits, looks down at where your hand toys with his cock over his boxers, waits for a few long beats to see what you'll do next. You know what he wants, and yet you're not giving it to him. He's not a patient man, shouldn't you know that already? Because just as you're about to say something about making him work for it, he's scoffing loudly, swatting your hand away and retaking the reins.

"This is why I can't let you have shit your way." Megumi pulls his cock out in one swift motion, giving it a few experimental pumps right against your face, barely an inch away and so close you can feel his leaking tip haphazardly poke against your cheek a few times.

"When do you ever?" You mumble bitterly as you meet his eyes. He doesn't return your gaze, not sure if he even heard you, all hazy, pretty eyelashes fluttering down and breath going uneven already as he thumbs his tip and lathers it in precum.

"Okay, open up." He demands a little too breathlessly, and the shake of his voice betrays him as he taps the head of his cock against your lips in coaxing. You're inclined to play stubborn for at least a little while, only for him to shoot you a warning glare that has you reeling back a little, accepting your fate and opening up for him, sticking your tongue out. He pushes past your lips in one smooth motion, giving you no time to adjust to his length, to the tip that hits the back of your throat immediately, and your throat instinctively tightens around him, a muffled gasp escaping you as you claw at his thighs, choking so fucking prettily around his cock already. The sight has Megumi's heart stuttering, and he feels himself twitch in your mouth from the sound you just made alone.

"Haven't even started moving and you're already going stupid. Stay still, will you?" He reaches down to grab either side of your head and pulls out just enough for you to breathe momentarily, before slamming back into your mouth.

"F-fuck..." He grunts softly at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfing him in full, and he begins to move. In and out, nice and steady. His pace starts out languid almost, and you're not sure if it was out of sensibility toward you or out of his own desire to prolong this as much as possible, too afraid to cum already.

"Gonna go faster—" At least he's considerate enough to tell you, the barer minimum really, but you're too dazed to be offended, nodding your head in encouragement as your hand slides under his shirt, brushing against his stomach and feeling it faintly tense at your touch. You keep your throat relaxed, loose and ready to take him in deeper. The grip on your hair tightens and he picks up his pace to the hilt, thrusting rough and hard into your mouth, desperate, almost pistoning into you, so aggressive with it that tears begin to coat your lash line, drool and precum dribbling down your chin in strings every time he pulls out just to slam right back in.

"Not so—fuck—Not so chatty now, are you?" He grunts out through labored pants, almost sneering down at you with a twitch of his lips, emphasizing his question with a particularly forceful thrust that almost has your head hitting the wall behind you, because if he didn't do that, he knows you'll try to run your mouth all over again, so he shuts you up before you even could, braces himself with a hand on the wall to quell the stutter of his hips and glances down at your teary eyes, your tousled hair, your flushed up cheeks. You're all fucked up. All fucked up just for him, and all docile just for him. When was the last time he's seen you this compliant? Never, honestly—Not toward him, at least. Letting him use you like this to his heart's content? Well boy is he going to exploit the hell out of this newfound power he holds over you.

"Sh-shit...Look at you. What would Gojo-Sensei think if he saw you getting your mouth fucked like a slut? Huh? By me outta everyone." You want to argue, spit some venom in his direction and tell him to drop it. He's rubbing it in your face, this whole thing, and you're fucking mad, helpless. You're digging your nails into his thigh in silent retaliation, and he groans at the burning crescents you etch into his flesh, shakily cursing under his breath. The sounds spilling past his lips are strained and obscene, mingling with the squelch of his wet cock and slapping of his balls against your chin.

The blend of pain and pleasure has Megumi's mind blanking in an instant, all kinds of sensations melding into one and rushing over him like a storm. He's teetering on the edge of release, you can feel it by the way his hips begin to buck erratically into your mouth, thrusts getting sloppier, frenzied, grip on your hair taut and burning. "F-fuck—want it so bad... gonna c-cum. You're gonna take it all—"

You watch his face scrunch up in pleasure as he babbles on, cheeks a pretty, deep pink, raven bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead and grip so tense in your hair that veins bulge along his forearms in spots you've never seen them do before. To think you're the one reducing him into this shaky mess of a man.

"C-cumming—hahh" He warns in passing, and before you know it, you're coughing around him, gagging on his cock as his lashes flutter down to meet your eyes, lips parted, a string of broken whines and choked up groans escaping him, thighs trembling as his knees threaten to buckle above you. "Yes—fuckfuck...f-fuck." He's depleting all that is left of his self-control to stay upright, thrusting rough and shooting a thick, hot rope of cum down your throat, but it's so fucking much that despite doing your best to take it all, some spills past the corners of your lips.

He slows down, pulling his cock out of your mouth, eyes fixated on the string of fluids that connects your lips to his tip like a thin bridge, and you take the deepest breath of your life yet.

"Not too shabby." He quips after catching his breath for a moment.

Now he was just asking for it. "Seriously? That's what you're gonna say after busting up a torrent in like 15 minutes?"

He shakes his head and motions toward the corner of your mouth with a languid smirk, ignoring your loaded comment to save himself the embarrassment. "You got something on your mouth over there. Why don't you lick it away?"

"Don't push it."

"Please."

"No."

"Idiot." Megumi pouts a little, sighing as he turns to tuck himself back into his pants and look presentable, gesturing for you to do the same. You're kind of dazed still, but you take heed and clean yourself up before grabbing your things and making for the door, halting just short of it when you feel Megumi grab your wrist.

"It's getting a little dark. I'll walk you home?" There's a finality in the way he looks at you, your wrist still snug in his grasp.

"I thought I was an idiot."

"Don't worry. You're the smartest idiot I know."

@venusinx

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #𝕂𝔼𝕀ℝ𝔸'𝕊 𝕂𝕀ℕ𝕂𝕋𝕆𝔹𝔼ℝ

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kvtie444 · 3 months

Text

⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET .9 - FINALE

summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo FINAL CHAPTER!!

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Tell me you don't love me," she breaks the silence. I almost choke up. "Y/n, we're not together anymore," I mumble. Her eyes shift, but she keeps her stand, looking up at me. "Tell me you don't love me anymore," she repeats. Fuck.

I don't know how to play my card right now. I could lie, tell her I don't. But that would break her. I want her to do better, be a better person without me. Or I could tell her the truth. I still love her more than myself.

・₊✧ Reader pov ˚｡⋆

I observe him, struggling to hold back the tears that threaten to spill. His jaw tightens, and he watches me with an unreadable expression. A fear lingers within me that he might walk away as he has done with our past issues. Tired of constructing emotional walls only for him to break them down and repeat the cycle, I feel the weight of it all, suffocating.

"Please, y/n. I'm begging you. Just get back in the car," he pleads, inching closer. I gaze up at him, my mind racing, realising he's deflecting my question again. My eyes bore into his blue ones, urging him to confront the issue. He sighs, glancing off to the side and then down at the floor.

Shifting on his feet, a sinking feeling overtakes me as he starts walking back towards the car. My lungs feel strained as I struggle to breathe, tears now streaming down my face. "You're a coward, Matt!" I sob behind him. Undeterred, he continues walking. "All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you use me. You make me fall in love with you, and now you're leaving me, again!" I yell, frustration and pain pouring out. He halts, turns around, and takes a few steps closer.

"I didn't make you do anything, 'I made you fall in love with me?' Y/n, I didn't make you do shit!" he yells back, stepping closer and causing me to step back slightly.

"Why can't you just fucking say it? Either you love me or you don't!" I cry out, pushing against his chest. His body tenses, arms reaching out in an attempt to grab me, but I resist, pushing into his chest again. "Y/n," he softly says, my tears still flowing. He grabs my wrists, and I finally yield. He pulls me close, holding me as I sob against his chest. His now damp shirt presses against my cheek as he comforts me, his hand soothingly rubbing my head and running through my hair.

"Shh, shh," he hushes me as I attempt to control my breathing, my hands clenched against his shirt. A moment of silence goes by until I catch my breath. "You're being mean," I mumble against him. "I know. I'm sorry," he breathes out above me. I feel his chin shift from the top of my head as he leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I hate how he thinks a kiss can make it all better. I hate how he still affects me. I hate how mean he can be and I hate how much I love him.

"I'm just scared of this, y/n," he murmurs against my head. There's a brief silence as I listen to his heartbeat, which quickens slightly. "You drive me crazy. I'm so- shit. I'm so into you. Not a minute goes by where you're not on my mind, y/n. I really fucking love you. You know that. But it scares the shit out of me," he confesses. I stiffen against him. He does love me.

The only sounds that filled the night were Matt's steady heartbeat and the occasional passing cars. I shut my eyes against his chest, finding comfort in the rhythmic echoes. "What are you afraid of?" I whispered against his chest. His hand, gently stroking my hair, paused, and he let out a breath. Pulling away, he held my face with both hands, his eyes scanning over every feature.

"I don't wanna hurt you. It feels so good, but it's just so wrong. I mean, you're still at school, and I am- was your teacher. I'm scared that one day you're gonna graduate and realize this was just a phase or something," he confessed, his vulnerability hanging in the night air.

My heart broke for him, and I placed my hands on his wrists, rubbing my thumb in soothing circles against his skin. "I love you, Matt. Only you. I always will," I softly replied. A gentle smile played on his lips as he closed his eyes. "We can make this work. We will," I affirmed with a smile. Opening his eyes again, he used his thumbs to wipe away my tears and pressed his forehead against mine. "I wanna make this work," he whispered back. I nodded slightly, my voice almost a whisper, "We can do that." We lingered in that tender moment before he pressed a long kiss to my forehead and took my hand, leading me back to the car.

I opened the passenger door and noticed the spilled drink from earlier on the seat, nibbling on my lip in embarrassment from my earlier intoxicated behavior. Matt glanced over, leaning into the back seat, and his shirt lifted momentarily, granting me a quick view of his waistband and happy trail. He returned with one of his hoodies, placing it on the seat for me to sit on. I took my seat, smiling to myself, and buckled my seatbelt.

"I'm sorry for yelling earlier," he spoke up. I looked over at him, finding his eyes already on me. Taking his hand, I held it. "It's fine, I was being stupid," I smiled. He let out a laugh, shaking his head before turning on the engine. He briefly removed his hand from mine to shift the gearstick, returning it just above my knee comfortably as we started driving.

During the journey, the earlier conversation lingered in my thoughts. I couldn't help but overthink - his fear, maybe it wasn't solely about the person and timing, but something rooted in his past. He mentioned being engaged before, and she cheated on him. Then, he had casual flings with other girls as a rebound. Could I be just another rebound in his life?

"What happened to your ex?" My mind spoke before my body, and I instantly shut my mouth. His demeanor shifted instantly, and the air felt thick and uncomfortable. "Sorry," I mumbled. He sighed, "She cheated on me," he replied. "Yeah, I knew that, but like, what happened after?" I asked. He sighed. "You don't have to ans—" "It's fine," he cut me off, his grip on my leg growing slightly tighter. "After we ended things, I saw some other people, screwed around a bit but would ghost them right after. Didn't wanna commit again," he said. "Oh." That's great to hear.

We were in silence for a minute before he made a turn I didn't recognize. We were driving down a dark road, the only light coming from the headlights, and I looked around curiously. He made another turn and parked the car. We were at a viewpoint I'd never seen before, but it was beautiful. You could see the whole city from here. The soft hum of music played in the background as his body turned to face me, mirroring his actions. He took my hand, pressing his lips against it, his breath from his nose fanning over my knuckles as he stared into my eyes.

"You're different though, y/n," he broke the silence. "I'd never do anything to spite you," he mumbled against my skin. I smiled softly at him. He pressed three more kisses to my knuckles and leaned over the center console, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. He smiled against my lips. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too," I replied, my hands playing with his brown locks by the nape of his neck. I looked back at the view for a second before gazing back into Matt's blue eyes, the same eyes I wanted to spend the rest of my life staring into.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n: sappy moment🤯 guys thank you all so much for reading my work. it means the world to me seeing people enjoy something I've created and this story especially has been amazing - seeing people talk about it on here and TikTok might not seem like a big deal but to me it genuinely put the biggest smile on my face lmao. teachers let is my baby, and I'm already working on another matt series that you guys will hopefully all love as much as this. thank you all so much for reading and I love you all !!!

tag list !!

@iloveneilperry @bernardenjoyer @daddyslilchickenfingers @mbbsgf @sturnvilmed @s1urnioloslvr @mattsbratt @mangoposts @christinarowie332 @recklesssturniolo @bluesturniolo333 @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @pepsiskiess @poopydroopt @byechristopher @solarsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @lustfulslxt @stardustmf444 @thankyounextt @glossyfx @bellasturniolo @justurniolos @cl0esblogg @strumbolisworld @strniolosworld @chrisloyalgf @aliyahsbody @spideylovin @justangelheree @sturnioloenthusiast @nickmillersn1gf @soursturniolo@bernardenjoyer@stuniolobbg @luv4kozume@luvmxtt@urmommysbathroom@lexisecretaccx

#spotify #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #smut #imagine

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forever--darling · 2 months

Note

Hi sweet girl , I want to tell you that your me & the devil fic is one of my favorites and one of the best I'm reading. For me Anakin x reader is perfection 💗.

I don't know if I'm being too ambitious but in blurb ideas I have one for Hayden and one for Anakin. I would like it to be fluffy.

From Hayden it could be something like : How is an outing with him ? ( I love how homey he is ) . Cooking together , watching movies in his living room while cuddling . Him giving that charming smile he has .

And for Anakin I love the idea of how he comforts his girl . Hugs , nicknames , cuddling together .

summary: a night staying in, resulting in getting high, has you unable to focus on the idea of sex when you're too busy laughing & realizing the extent of your feelings

pairings: hayden christenson x young!reader

word count: 1.0k

warnings/notes: age!gap (reader in mid-twenties), mention of weed/getting high, fluff, honeymoon phase af, mentions of sex, mentions of anakin skywalker

p.s. to whoever requested this, I will be doing your second request as well sometime soon.

masterlist

Blue pupils stared back at you, up through the dim lighting of the bedside lamp. Slightly blown out, from the weed in his system or you, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t know as this wasn’t something the two of you ever did often, yet the sudden fire beneath your skin and the precious need to press your body close to his was something you craved. Perhaps, it was the way his lips felt along your collarbones, the sides of your neck, or how his warm hands, calluses in all, felt along the bareskin of your sides. Maybe it was just him in general, how much and how quickly you had found yourself wanting him.

Or maybe it's just the drugs.

The way they seemed to warp your senses, filling the air with some sort of stamina that left the particles buzzing and your breath astray. The music sounded quieter than it really was, but perhaps it was masked by the soft giggle that poured out freely.

“What? What is it?” Hayden sighed, almost disappointed, his head lifting up from where his lips had been attached to your collarbone, kissing softly.

A quirk appeared in his brow, a teasing look in his eyes as he took in the way you appeared so perfectly pinned underneath him. His body on top of yours, legs parting yours, his weight light as they pushed you deeper into the mattress.

Your laughter quit but only for a moment as you tried to explain just what was so funny to you in the first place, something that wouldn’t have been nearly as funny if you hadn’t smoked as much as you had. For not having done it in a while other than the edibles you had at least once a week, you had forgotten how much to inhale.

“Nothing,” you said, trying to appear as serious as can be, a smile forming in a fine line as you met his stare.

Your laugh burst out again, though, and your eyes crinkled shut, unable to stop the way the hormones attacked the neurons in your brain.

“Right,” Hayden replied, narrowing his eyes playfully, the redness in them no doubt matching your own. “Clearly, it’s nothing if it has you laughing as much as you are.”

You shook your head, hands automatically wrapping around his strong shoulders, fingers carding through the back of his hair almost like they had a mind of their own. The softness of the short curls had your heart bursting if that was even a feeling.

“Seriously, tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“And why not?” he demanded, thumbs rubbing soft circles across your hips.

“Because…”

You were laughing again, and his head was falling, meeting your chest with ease, a sigh filtering out of his lips.

“Baby,” he mumbled, lips pressed along your collarbone again, but this time no longer gracing them with the kisses you had come to love so much. Almost too much.

“Fine, okay,” you gave in, laughter diminishing again to nothing but a soft chuckle, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to get the words out, “I was just thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“When you’ve hooked up with girls in the past, have they, ever, you know. Asked you to like dress up in costume?”

A deadpan look appeared on his face as his head lifted, eyes finding yours again, “What do you mean?”

“Like, have they ever been mid-foreplay and straight out asked you if you can dress up as Anakin or Darth Vader?”

“Where is this coming from?” he chuckled, too, lips lifting into that smile that somehow had convinced you to leave all the guys your age in the past.

“Or have they asked you to pull out your lightsaber?”

“Y/N,” he shook his head, mouth forming in an ‘o’, almost in surprise as you continued to laugh. “I’m trying to initiate sex here, and you’re laughing about if other girls have asked me to make their Star Wars sex fantasies a reality?”

“Well, yeah,” you replied, the tone almost accusatory tone as if it was something you would be asking, especially five hits later from the joint that was now stubbed out in the bathroom.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that,” he laughed then, too, “Why, is that something you want? Do you want to know about my lightsaber?”

“I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t,” you retorted, laughter falling away to complete seriousness.

Staring down at him, you felt the silence lull, almost swallowing you whole as the realization appeared again, almost like a car hitting you out of nowhere. The realization that you had fallen for an older man, a man you hadn’t expected to ever want you back, to notice you the way he had. Worse, to love him as you did so quickly, so immensely was too much, too much to understand, to accept.

Yet there you were, pinned beneath him, heart so full, so well-kept, hoping that it would stay close within his palms for the rest of time.

That charming smile appeared then on his face, his eyes crinkling slightly, a certain sort of contentment appearing as if he had had a revelation of his own. Words were not enough in that moment, so evidently as he leaned up, connecting his lips with yours, softly, deeply as if he was trying to pour his very own breath into your being.

You loved this man; that was inevitable.

After a few seconds, he pulled back, only enough for his lips to depart from yours. That smirk of his still firmly sat along his face. “So, what are you saying? Do you want me to go grab my wardrobe from set? I’m sure you would really have something to laugh at then, wouldn’t you?”

You loved this man, and you wanted him like this forever.

“Yeah, I would.”

#inbox #anon inbox #💌 asks #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #blurb

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gococogo · 2 months

Text

Share Your Toys | SilverV

Synopsis: V buys something new and odd and Johnny doesn't want to participate. All until he needs to show V just how to use.

Word Count: 2.1K

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand/Male!V

Warnings: nsfw/anal/dildo/sex toy/masturbation/degrading/slut shaming

Notes: I know I've only done one cyberpunk fic in the past. But I have this one and one more planned to post haha. I'm here for the male!v x johnny enjoyers

Does he feel a little ashamed buying one? No… Maybe. Just a lil. They had peaked his interest when he had spotted one, but he had much more pressing matters on hand.

So, here he is, with a six-inch dildo in hand.

It’s odd looking. It’s thicker at the tip than it is at the base. Being an ombre from a pink on the bottom to a pastel blue to the tip, it’s almost alien looking. With ridges on the underside that poke out a fair bit, V already knows this is going to be an odd sensation. Something funky to use to get his mind off of current things.

“There’s no way in fuck we’re sticking that thing up your ass,” Johnny snaps from the couch.

V sighs a gruntle noise. He tries to ignore Johnny but the rockstar taps his foot on the ground. He looks up to Johnny finally with a raised brow. He sits on the edge of his bed in only an old t shirt -one that use to be an outdoor shirt but slowly turned into a pj shirt with all the holes and grease stains in it. He sets the dildo on the bed next to him with another sigh.

“We?” V asks.

“Yes, we,” Johnny bites back. “I can feel everything you feel to an extent. And tonight, or any other, I don’t think I’m in the mood to have that thing shoved up my ass,” he says as he points to the dildo with a silver finger.

“You’ve never taken a dick before?” V mocks as he scoots up on his bed.

He makes himself comfortable and brings a bottle of lube with him in hand. Johnny leans back on the couch with his legs crosses over one another. He pushes his aviators up back to cover his eyes. The red glass reflects V on the bed, laid back with his shirt pooled over his crotch and thighs.

“I said I don’t want that,” Johnny grits out.

V rolls his eyes. “Just, leave me alone and I’ll forget you’re ever here. Go to whatever corner of my brain you normally go to when you don’t like something. It’s still my body, so I can do what I want and put whatever the hell I want in it.”

Johnny stares at V for a moment longer and for a split second, the merc feels very exposed. The rocker has seen everything before. Has done stuff to him before. But right now, the look he’s receiving is something different. Then, without a word, Johnny disappears in a glitch of blue and red static.

Good. Now he can continue in peace and use sex for a moment to forget about how shit life is.

Getting the first inch in is a struggle. Even with a lot of prep and a lot of lube, the tip is a tad thick. The stretch is a little overwhelming as V opens his legs out a bit further. He works himself little by little, letting the ridges of the fake cock rub up inside of him.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

V stops all so that he can glare at the disturbance standing over him at the side of his bed. He’s gotten so use to Johnny popping up randomly that when he does, it doesn’t phase him at all now.

The rocker’s arms are crossed over his chest and he still wears those red aviators. He can see himself in them again. Legs apart, dick half hard between with a large cock spreading him open. And all Johnny does is frown.

V moves the dick, pushing it a little further into himself and watches Johnny’s face. And when the rocker’s face scrunches up into a scowl, soon followed by a shaky, quiet exhale that is a clear indication he’s trying to hide his reaction, V can only smirk.

As cockily as he can say with a cock up his ass, the merc grins, “How should I be doing it then?”

Johnny’s scowl only deepens. Yet, he disappears from where he’s standing and reappears in a wave of glitches and static in front of V. Bent over and looking over him without his aviators. Dark, brown eyes stare him that hold something dangerous.

Without a word, Johnny takes control of V’s spare arm and grabs a pillow behind him. He shoves it under V’s back that has the merc rolling his eyes. The pillow trick? Really?

“I can’t believe you’ve got me doing this,” Johnny grumbles under his breath.

“You’re the one that hopped in yourself, I could have done this on my own,” V interjects.

Johnny covers V’s hand that holds onto the base of the fake cock. “And have a shit time because you’re taking too long? I’d rather not sit back and have to experience that.”

“But you’d rather experience a misshaped dildo up my ass?”

Johnny only frowns at that, his brows furrowing together. Hard enough that it brings creases to his forehead and brings out his crow’s feet.

With a hard push, one that V wouldn’t have deemed himself ready, the cock is pushed halfway in. V throws his head back against the bed. The ridges of the dildo rub up against the part inside of him that makes everything tingle. The painful stretch of the cock has him trying to catch his breath. But it’s a pain that is welcome. Has him buzzing.

The thickness of the first half has him already feeling full. The ridges on the underside of the dildo rub up against all the good parts inside of him that adds to the dizziness in his head. He breathes heavily, soft whines hitching his throat as Johnny moves the cock inside of him before he can get use to the feeling. Slowly pulling out before pushing in where it was before. And God it feels so good. It has him gripping the sheets with his other hand, the other being held down by Johnny.

The rockstar lifts one of V’s legs up and props it over his shoulder so that he can settle in closer. V looks to Johnny through slitted eyes and the look on the rocker’s face only turns him on more.

Johnny’s mouth is parted, and he breathes in sync with V. Each time he pushes the cock inside of V, each time a little deeper, each time hitting his prostate, Johnny shivers and pants. The blue of the cock all but disappears into V’s ass, leaving only the pink half to take down. God he’s quickly enjoying this as much as V is. Who knew the rockstar could have a little fun.

Being trapped on a biochip must do that to someone though. But by whatever God there is, is it hot to see Johnny become a little desperate. He’s so focused on the fake cock that his own hips move in sync faintly.

Johnny growls, -something that V never expected to hear- and pushes the rest of the cock inside of V. It slips in easily, the base being narrower than the first half. And everything feels like it short circuits inside of V, as if his cyberware doesn’t know what’s happening. His back arches as he groans deep within his throat. The cock is so wide and girthy it stretches him greatly. It makes him feel full and has him twitching. Each movement has the ridges grinding up inside of him and each time that happens, a small hiccup of moans are forced from his mouth. He can’t help himself. This feeling is wild and he’s glad that he bought this.

Johnny on the other hand. He’s bent over V trying to catch his own breath. He doesn’t need to breath but it bloody feels like he can’t intake air. Every time V moves and shifts, a wave of pleasure pulses through Johnny that has him shivering and twitching. He can feel himself grow hard in his leather pants. He’s not meant to be into this but by god does it feel great.

He catches his breath before pulling cock out of V to the tip, the sweet sound of moans and groans coming with it. With a forceful push, he shoves the entire six inches back into the merc, the blue disappearing along with the pink. And there it is again, the wave of pleasure and tingles from V that has Johnny shivering and groaning deep in his chest.

He begins slowly pumping the fake cock inside of V, revelling in the raw feelings and sensations that come from the merc’s end. He can feel V’s pain and those friendly pats to his shoulders from strangers. All of those are faint, like passing by a soft blowing vent. But this, this has Johnny’s head spinning and his code glitching.

V other hand comes back down to stroke his hardening dick. He grinds his teeth together at how overstimulating such a simple touch is. God he’s not going to last much longer if Johnny keeps this up. Especially with the pace quickening with every pass of his prostate.

Johnny begins panting loudly as he quickens the pace. Each time it fills V up in the right places and stretches him a little painfully. But that sting is something that feels so good. He matches his stroke on his dick with Johnny, letting him take the full reigns even though he knew he was fucked when the rocker popped back up again to make his comments.

V gets lost in everything, letting his mind go to this moment right now. Forgetting about everything that’s fucked him over in life. Johnny pushes the cock fully in and lets it sit there for a moment. All so he can swat V’s hand off his dick and replace it with his own. The feeling of Johnny’s metal hand on his dick is cold and brings a harsh gasp out of his mouth.

V meets dark brown eyes that stare at him. There’s something different there that the merc can’t quite place. Maybe because he’s having trouble reciting the alphabet or he’s completely forgotten what day it is. His mind is a jumble. But he knows that that dark look within those eyes is something akin to…

“You’re such a slut, you know that?” Johnny quips in between his own panting.

And there it is. Johnny’s comments. Why should V be surprised?

“Yeah and-“ The comeback V was going to make is lost as Johnny moves the dildo inside of him.

He grinds it into him shallowly, letting it rub up against everything inside and makes his entire gut and head to buzz. And in time with the movement, he strokes V’s dick, his thumb flicking and rubbing over the tip each time strokes up.

V grabs onto the blanket again, still letting Johnny guide his other hand on the fake cock. Everything is going crazy. He can’t help but grunt and whine like a two eddie whore.

“Yeah,” Johnny groans out. “You sound like one too.”

V can feel himself coming closer and closer. If Johnny keeps this same pace, he can get there quickly.

“My little slut, how does that sound?” The words are spoken deeply, gravelly.

And it all goes straight to V’s dick. He cums as if a freight train just hit him. His Kiroshi’s become spotty for a second, the black spots disappearing slowly after a while as his eyes recalibrate. He can’t catch his breath for a moment and when he opens his eyes, Johnny is gone.

For a split second, V feels a bit of panic, but as soon as it comes, Johnny appears back again in a storm of glitches and static. He’s hunched over V with a wide expression upon his normally grouchy features. He pants and shakes. He gulps, trying to collect himself. But whatever V felt, Johnny did as well ten fold it seems.

V slips the alien like dildo out of him with a pop and a groan, and throws it aside on his bed. He’s too worn out to worry about anything other than the rockstar leaning over him.

He reaches up and pats Johnny’s face. The simple touch has brown eyes latching onto V.

“Was it worth it?” V asks.

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

Johnny sits up straight, still kneeling in between V’s legs. He runs a hand down his face and lets his gaze run down the merc’s body. His eyes linger on V’s still leaking cock and the cum splattered over his stomach and tattoos. He’d be wrong if didn’t admit this was all a little hot. It’s all in how V pants and shakes from the orgasm still, his chest and stomach rising rapidly with each breath.

Johnny swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing on his throat. “A little then, yeah,” He grumbles.

Please do not copy or repost my work. <3

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lotusmi · 1 year

Note

what's the difference between affirm+persist and states? i still haven't grasped it and i'm slightly confused because if you were affirming and persisting, you'd be thinking a specific set of thoughts so wouldn't you be in that state of wtv thoughts you were thinking?

You are always in several states, the state of being rich or poor, wanted or unwanted, happy or upset. States are mindsets, a state is a SELF identification. A state is what you identify being or having within. Your state is what you say after "I AM..."

"A state is simply an attitude of mind, a body of belief, a phase of experience." a state is whatever you claim to be or have. You don't have to stress if you are not in a good state, you can always change your state.

Affirm and persist is one of the most unhealthy things I ever saw in my life. Mindlessly affirming does not work for everyone. Affirming does not work if you don't identify you are or have that which you are affirming for.

"affirming is a TECHNIQUE. some people argue that since affirmations are just thoughts, you can never stop affirming and should be monitoring your thoughts all day long." + "affirmations can help you maintain your desired state. i say maintain, because getting into the state is instant, and requires no technique." - @remcycl333m

Thoughts don't manifest, STATES do.

If someone affirm 10k a day for 1 month that they are blue, but they don't identify as being blue, they won't be blue.

Folks were doing the 10k challenge some months ago, you should affirm 10k times and that would make 'your desire manifest'. Lot's of people failed, first they failed because of affirming without identification or faith (yes you can doubt), which is affirming not from the state of having. And also, because this challenge had the mentality of 'changing the outside world', when the person should focus on having and being the desire.

Some loa coaches would say that 'affirming and persisting works always', but you can tell they believe that, they believe that it will work, they say 'it is done', they have faith they have, so THEY ARE IN THE STATE. Then it comes a begginer, that don't identify having the desire, they try, and they fail. And then they believe the Law does not work. They think they did not affirmed enought, then they start affirming more and more as if this would bring their desire. But affirmations hold no power, SELF hold power. The Operant Power, the Cause, IS SELF. God (imagination) decision/acceptance is the final take.

If you are affirming to REMEMBER you have/are your desire, you are in the state. And here, remember, you don't have to force it. It's just accepting, knowing your imagination is your real reality and you can imagine anything you want, knowing the outer-world reflects the inner-world. You hold your faith and dare to assume you are have that which you want to be already. Knowing yourself is the key, and that you are God. You stop following 'do this' 'do that' you decide you are, and without effort, you have what you want.

Also, affirmations are not thoughts. Affirmations are statements that you conciously repeat in order to remember you have what you want (not to 'make it happen'), only a technique, a method. Affirmations hold no power, SELF do, I AM hold power. Thoughts are natural thinking patterns that come from your state. Create your own rules, remove rules from your mind. All you gotta do is know you have it. Knowing you are God you will free yourself. No more affirming all day, no more trying, forcing. You just accept with love.

#law of assumption #lotus's advices #manifesting #states #neville goddard #loa advice #loa blog

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anyaeras · 11 months

Text

A twisted love story Pt.2 || W.Maximoff

─────────────────────────────────────

Pairing || Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summery || after y/n's powers show wanda steps in to protect y/n even more, drastically wanda took y/n far away, slowly making them into her dumb little love

Warnings || long ,, fluff ,, angst ,,they/them pronouns ,, child testing ,, memory loss ,, panic attack ,, possessive Wanda ,, leading to dark!wanda ,, kidnapping ,, nursing ,, manipulation ,, slight innocent reader ,, mommy! Wanda coming up

Masterlist Part one

──────────────────────

Y/n was training well, even though they were brought on the team due to their advanced intelligence, Wanda had mentioned the experiments to Natasha, who felt it was best to test y/n's abilities see if anything new came about yet as of right now, it's only been the fast brain and battle strategies

"No, right leg crosses over and swings back quickly, you need to confuse the opponent" Natasha explained, Wanda was in a meeting so y/n was training with Nat, sometimes cap join, but y/n was pretty sure he was in a meeting with Wanda, y/n quickly attempted the kick getting it correct, but the black widow is beyond ready, blocking the kick harshly, but what the widow wasn't ready for was y/n's to phase through the block hitting Natasha, not hard enough to injure her yet it was still shocking...

"Natasha I'm so sorry I- I didn't know I could do that..." y/n was astonished at themself, they not only hit the black widow, but phased through her arm.

"Y/n it's alright, are you okay?" Natasha asked getting up regaining herself before moving closer you to the new avenger.

"Come on we are done for the day" Natasha lead y/n was a little confused while also worried, were the others going to be mad? Would you be sent away? Would wanda not wanna be friends anymore, that thought was the most worrying. Y/n was so lost In thought they didn't realize they had entered a medical lab.

"Bruce this is y/n, the newbie, well they have a past which is unknown to Shield, yet during training they were able to phase through my block, it was crazy" Natasha didn't know how else to explain what happened yet Bruce seemed to understand. Bruce stepped to the side for a moment typing away on a laptop.

"Okay so, just to be safe Im going to need to run some test and..."

the words kept flowing from his mouth but never processed in y/n's head, after 'run some test' y/n lost touch with reality... the brown dirty lab which was in her childhood 'home' flashed in their mind, the blue straps holding them down, the wires and needles haven't moved from where they were left, everything stayed the same old same old in their mind...

"NO TEST" y/n blared out in a panic, the flashbacks continue to reply for them in their mind, Natasha began trying to calm y/n down it didn't seem to be working, the panic only grew, nat tried to softly tap y/n yet it only triggered their ability's they began to phase in and out, moving inch by inch in the process-

"Bruce get Wanda down here right now!" The widow ordered, and he followed Friday's voice rang in the meeting room, calling Wanda to y/n, the witch shot out of her chair, sprinting to the medic wing, wanda had never ran that fast worried about what may be going on.

The witch froze when she bursted through the medical glass doors, y/n was still in a facing state, Bruce moved behind a wall to stay safe, as Natasha did to once Wanda came in.

"Y/n Дорогой (dorogoy) it's me it's Wanda" wanda wasn't scared of y/n she kept moving closer to y/n, getting in their sit of vision

"Wanda?"

"Yes it's me" wanda was the one who was able to calm y/n down enough to get more reasonable responses

"No test, I don't want to do test" wanda was confused, she hadn't been in the room prior, so she wasn't aware of the situation

"Bruce, give me a rundown" wanda said, but he knew what she meant the real explanation would cause y/n to panic while Wanda also didn't have the option to leave and step out of the room to hear the 'rundown' so Bruce would think the rundown as Wanda was listen to it through his mind.

The witch came up with a plan, as clearly test wouldn't be able to go on at this moment, and she was aware fury would find out about this situation quickly, if he wasn't already completely aware.

"Y/n how about we go back to the room, let's take a rest and chat" wanda proposed leading y/n slowly out of the med wing.

Wanda opened the door to her room, bring you inside, by this point you both pretty much shared this room, most of the time y/n would pass out in Wanda's arm at night, and Wanda would never tell them to leave.

Wanda sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to her for y/n to join. The witches eyes watched y/n's movements, her eyes stayed soft the whole time, as y/n sat down besides her she was quick to turn her body sitting cross legged on the bed, hold one of y/n's hands her her own.

"Y/n I won't let them hurt you, but I want to know about you, if you'll tell me sweetie?" Wanda prompt you to spill everything, her eyes soft and caring, yet her words cut you like a knife opening your mind and your past all to her.

"I wish I knew more, I can't understand the records that I stole very well, it's not the language it's just they are all in code, I only remember snippets of my past, I've been running since the day I got out, I'm scared Wanda" y/n cried out and Wanda just help you, she kept you close, letting you tell her your past, the idea that maybe you belonged to more then just some crazy scientist was starting to set in, cause Wanda to wonder what you really went through...

The idea was like a lightbulb when it hit Wanda, while y/n still sat partly on her lap, she realized that she could probably open up your memory, what was worrying is how it would affect you...

"Y/n honey, do you think I could take a look, maybe I could help you remember?" Wanda asked her long fingers running through your hair.

Y/n nodded allowing wanda to use her powers playing back y/n's life inside now Wanda's mind, noticing by small details that she was part of a hydra experiment, not just hydra though, y/n was a special project, they were talking about the project when Wanda was still at hydra, her own memory helped her fill in the missing truths from y/n's.

"Project MVT" wanda whispered to herself, she was aware that hydra wanted to make a multiverse traveler, someone who could phase through different realities, yet she wasn't oh where they had ever executed the plan.

"Y/n you were apart of a hydra experiment, they wanted you to be able to travel the multi-verse" wanda tried to explain their own story to them but y/n was just getting confused and worked up.

"How about we set this aside, you should rest a little" the witch switched the subject, pushing y/n to lay down on the bed, Wanda tucked them in, helping them daze off into a slumber.

Wanda had left y/n to nap, as she raced to the rest of the team, they were sitting in a meeting room with fury...fuck

"I figured it out." Wanda said as she walked in, causing everyone to stop and look towards her.

"Y/n is project MVT, hydra wanted to make a multi-verse traveler, she clearly was taken from their family young, and somehow ended up in northern Michigan, kept secluded from the world, with a group of scientist, they went through multiple experiments and abuse clearly now they are terrified of what may happened to them, and they are unaware about their own abilities, and their past." Wanda gave everyone a run down, honestly, it put everybody at ease, now knowing what happened to y/n and why this newbie was now in a panic.

"They also said they have some files they stole before escaping, which we can get into later"

Fury who was standing up at the opposite end from Wanda decided it was his turn to speak

"So what I'm understanding is that they could be an asset on the field, their abilities would be great in battle, if they can face through objects, they can face there any blow, bullet, or knife coming their way?" Fury stated cause Wanda to almost explode.

"No. Y/n will not be in battle, they need to be safe, we don't know who's after them!?" Wanda shouted

"That doesn't affect us. They are now a part of this team and I already have a mission I need them for, leaving asap." Fury countered the scarlet witch's statement, before walking out of the room, not letting Wanda say anything before then.

This was not going to happen, no mission, no danger, nothing for y/n. Wanda stormed out of the meeting room, going straight to her room, getting out multiple bags, using her powers to pack everything up very quickly, both y/n's and her own items were being stored.

The witch kept quiet, not making a sound in fear of waking the sleeping beauty in her bed, once the bags were packed she used her magic to take everything down to her car, the only one who noticed what was going on was Natasha, yet the widow didn't say a thing, Natasha only knew a little bit of what was going on. She wasn't aware of the entire situation so minding her business was what she did.

Wanda had now used her powers to force y/n into a deeper sleep, keeping them in a dead sleep as she carried them to her car, buckling y/n into a seat, as she moved to the driver side, and like that...they were not coming back.

Wanda and y/n were both off the grid, y/n stayed asleep the whole extremely long car ride, they didn't wake up till the next morning, when they were sleeping alone in an unrecognizable bed, panic set it quickly, they jumped up looking for a door, yet as they were standing Wanda came running in.

"Y/n baby it's okay, i'm right here" she hushed the panic, walking closer to wrap her arms around y/n's smaller body.

"Wanda, where are we?" Y/n asked innocently to the witch.

"We are home now, it's safe here моя детка (Moya detka) wanda said which was very cryptic, last time y/n was awake they were at the compound, now they are somewhere y/n doesn't even know, and the only one here was Wanda.

"Baby you are going to stay here with me and I'll keep you safe, no more bad guys playing games with you, or the others putting you in danger, here you will be safe with mommy" wanda whispered her words, y/n realized they had been practically kidnapped but with Wanda they felt safe, she never lied to them, so if Wanda felt this was the right move for them maybe it was? Y/n thought about it ignoring the name Wanda reference herself as, honestly it didn't register in their mind yet

Wanda pulled y/n back to the bed, setting them on her lap.

"You're gonna stay here with me, and I'll protect you, do you Understand" the Scarlet witch asked you, a nod was the reply given.

Wanda turned on the tv, putting on a Disney movie, now it was definitely out of the ordinary, Wanda was acting strange the more you thought about it, you were pulled away from the others while asleep, Wanda wants to keep you away from the world in this house she moved you both too, and now she's treating you like a child with the way she was talking down to you, too much was happening to soon, they thought a bit more, but the more y/n thought about everything the more worked up they grew.

Y/n got up from Wanda's lap, causing the witch to give them a confused look.

"Wanda? Where are we! Why am I here! Tell me whats going on this isn't fair!" Y/n blew up quickly, y/n phased a bit, which Wanda noticed, while also picking up that when y/n phased it took a lot of energy out of them. They were tired and emotional now with everything happening so quick in their life they needed an emotional output.

"Y/n. Enough, you are with me, you are safe isn't that enough baby? You gave me my sweet one" wanda kept her voice stern, as she told y/n off, Wanda was well aware y/n was in an emotional spot that's why Wanda was here, to guide y/n and keep them safe...

Y/n snapped after having a little tantrum, tears filled their eyes, as the witch opened her arms to y/n, allowing y/n to slip into her arms.

"Y/n I know you are upset, but you can't yell at me, I'm just trying to keep you safe" she explained softly, pulling y/n back into her lap for a moment Wanda debated on how she wanted to approach what she was going to do next.

"Y/n sweetie, you can rest your eyes again soon, but I need to know, do you like me?" Wanda asked y/n was laying against her still, the small phasing outburst took a lot of energy from them, and the sleep Wanda put them in wasn't very restful

"Of course I like you Wanda? You're like my only friend" y/n replied still not fully aware of what she meant, y/n was so out of it, they couldn't even find her behavior odd anymore.

"No y/n do you love me? Because I love you" wanda explained a little worried about what the reply may be, yes Wanda had pretty much kidnapped y/n and was slowly trying to push y/n to be her perfect little love, but the witch wasn't heartless, she cared what y/n thought.

"Yes, I love you Wanda" y/n whispered their head rested on the witch, they started to drift off yet it seemed they couldn't find sleep.

Wanda watched as y/n tossed and turned trying to get comfortable enough to sleep, nothing was working, she had came up with an idea, worried it may not go over well, but after y/n's confession wanda thought they could keep pushing y/n a little more

"Y/n baby sit up for a moment" wanda softly pushed y/n up gaining a whine from them which made the scarlet witch smile a bit, as she pulled off her top and bra, pulling y/n to lay into her, now y/n was tired and confused, while also feeling childish from Wanda babying

"Baby open your mouth" wanda guided y/n mouth over her breast allowing y/n to attempt to nurse, what surprised Wanda was when y/n went for it, now Wanda sure had to encourage y/n but they started to suck, eventually falling asleep while nursing....

Wanda knew then that it'll work out, y/n was gonna be the perfect one for her....her plan from day one finally was in action

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