#these goddamn kids are just constantly in my mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crushmeeren · 5 months

Text

Everyone in this NSFW One Shot is aged up/18+, if you have any issues with that—remember this is a work of FICTION!! so just block me & move on lmao

Warnings; cursing, teasing, dirty talk, praising, soft! dom Tamaki, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy sex, pussy eating, fingering, vaginal sex

Note; for the lovely anon requester, I super loved writing this, I love Tamaki—the soft dom version of him hits the spot 💕🤤 also I tried really hard to make this a good soft dom, I hope I did it justice.

•••

Tamaki is, more often than not, tightly wound into a ball of nerves. Not to say he hasn’t gotten any better at being able to handle the reigns of his anxiety, because he certainly has.

It’s just, there’s always a small undercurrent of unease lingering in his belly. Skyrocketing his heart rate, making his fingers shake with adrenaline each time he gets interviewed after a villain beat down.

He’s ashamed to admit that even when he’s with friends the unsettling feeling remains, albeit only in a small amount. It lurks in the back of his mind—never truly gone completely.

That is, unless he’s with you, and now, with your baby girl too. Funnily enough, his hands were as steady as they’d ever been when he first held his sweet baby.

His heart didn’t race, he wasn’t choking to death on butterflies—okay well, those things actually were happening, but not in an oh my god the sky is falling type of way. It was in an oh my god I love my family so much I’m gonna throw up kind of way. Tamaki was drowning in his feelings for the two of you. So much so that he thought he may burst into tears (he did).

Tamaki’s sweet little Chiyoko is only two years old now, but fucking hell—he’s started to want to have another baby so goddamn badly. It clouds his mind constantly, marring his thoughts.

He wants another little one to raise, to teach them how to be better than he ever has been. Another person he can completely be himself with, who he’ll love unconditionally. Always striving to give his kids a better world than the one he grew up in.

Although, what really snapped the pathetically thin thread that was left of his patience was when he came across what must’ve been the 10th pregnant woman while out on patrol today.

All Tamaki could keep picturing was you. With your belly so cute, so swollen & round. An image pops up behind his eyelids. Your lovely face, your lower lip pushed out so sweetly in a pout, tits spilling over the top of your bra. Tamaki swallows, throat dry as cotton as he works to keep a steady pace while he walks the streets.

He knows his cheeks are burning bright red, he can feel the heated flush crawling up the back of his neck—up to his ears. Tamaki pulls his hood further over his face as his mind sharply turns down a much filthier path. Vividly picturing you riding his cock while you’re 6 months pregnant. How unbelievably tight your pussy always is, how he’s able to place his hands possessively on your belly as he lets you fuck yourself on his cock. Watching your tits bounce beautifully.

Oh god, oh shit—he craves the satisfaction of fucking another baby into you so much his balls ache. His heart stops momentarily as he feels his cock rapidly thicken against his thigh, hot & heavy. Tamaki is urgently speed walking back to his hero agency because he’s pretty sure the stretchy spandex of his hero outfit is not going to hide his humiliating boner.

•••

Later on that evening, after your daughter has fallen asleep, you find yourself with your hands bound to the metal slats of your headboard. Soft, smooth silk caressing your skin. Binding your wrists together above your head with just the right amount of pressure to keep you from breaking free.

Your skin is starting to feel stretched too tightly over your bones, entire body flushing hotly as Tamaki traces the pads of fingers feather light over your bare breasts. Both of you are naked & he’s been playing with you for what feels like a lifetime. He teases you relentlessly as his thumbs lightly circle your nipples until they pebble up. You can feel your pussy throb.

“Tama,” you whine his nickname lowly, arching your spine as he grips your left tit playfully—desperately pushing further into his touch, you’re craving so much more from your husband. His other hand trails your lower belly idly.

“Hm? What is it my goddess? This not enough for you?” Tamaki teases you with a soft voice, punctuating his words with a rough squeeze. Making sure to pinch your nipple in between his fingers. Your feet are planted on the mattress, thighs spreading even further to fit his lithe frame as you cry out.

“Hah! Oh fuck—no, not enough Tamaki,” you complain with a breathy moan, straining against the silk that ties you down. Goosebumps litter your arms as he rests his warm palms over the bumps of your ribs, fingers splaying out under the swell of your tits.

“No? My, that’s a bit bratty of you,” He murmurs playfully, warm breath tickling over your skin as he presses a kiss to your sternum.

“Baby,” you choke out, tilting your head down to stare at him, eyes pleading. “Please I want your mouth so bad.” Fingers dig into your ribs, forcing a squeaking noise out of you. Tamaki only hums in response as he presses a line of kisses down your soft belly, lowering himself onto his own as he makes his way to your pussy.

“Here?” Tamaki asks innocently before he bites a kiss into the sensitive skin of your hip bone. Your hips twitch, trying to get his over head to your pussy—which is starting to ache, no doubt puffy and slick from being so turned on.

“No,” you whimper, fingers curling into fists, nails digging into the flesh of your palms where you’re bound. Tamaki places his palms on the underside of your thighs, easily pushing them open further for him.

“Oh, so you must mean here hm?” He snickers, dipping his head to kiss the inner part of your thigh, close to the crease, near where you want him the most. He nips at the skin there sharply, making you gasp.

“You know that’s not it Tamaki,” you huff, wiggling in place, frustratedly tugging at the silk yet again. Your shoulders ache a little bit and you have the insanely strong urge to tangle your fingers in his soft, purple hair.

Taking action, you maneuver your legs until you can rest your thighs over his shoulders, heels ready to dig into his upper back. He instinctively wraps an arm around your thigh. The other hand snaking up to brush his fingers through the small patch of curly hair you left above your clit. It makes his cock twitch because it’s like a neon sign pointing him straight to your pretty pussy.

“I’m not quite sure what you want then my goddess,” Tamaki sighs, pretending to be disappointed. “Ya know, only good girls get what they ask for, you should use your words better lovely,” He remarks thoughtfully, pinching your clit between his thumb and fore finger, trying to bite back his smile. One of his canines pokes out over his bottom lip.

“Tama!” You suck air in through clenched teeth, pressing your pussy towards his mouth—but the arm around your thigh is like steel. It makes your pussy drool. “Fucking—Tamaki, please baby, I want you to eat my pussy,” you bite, teeth grinding together in frustration.

“Oh! I see, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place? Such a good girl though, using your words,” Tamaki teases. His warm lips brush over your clit when he speaks & you could strangle the man right there.

You whimper, his praise forcing a thick warmth to your lower belly. It swirls around intoxicatingly, dripping down into your pussy. His wet tongue is so close to your clit you want to rip apart the silk tie. Tamaki takes his chance to wrap both arms around your thighs.

“Tamaki if you don’t—fuck!” Your complaint is cut short. Jaw falling open, fists clenching, when your husband’s warm tongue parts your slick pussy. Moving up to swirl around your clit slowly. Warm shivers race up your spine as he kitten licks over your sensitive flesh.

“Holy shit Tamaki,” you keen, voice watery & thick with pleasure. “Please don’t stop,” you beg, thighs threatening to suffocate him as you cross your ankles over his back. He rewards you with soft lips wrapping around your clit, sucking happily & flicking his tongue at the same time. He teased you so much before that you’re already starting to feel an ominous knot tighten up behind your navel.

“Tama I wanna, oh god—nngh! Fingers, want your fingers in my pussy, please!” You plead, silk cutting into your wrists as you pull painfully. You vaguely remembered to use your words & it pays off. He hums approvingly, making your eyes squeeze shut from the ticklish vibration. Tamaki smoothly lets go of one of your thighs.

With no resistance, he slips his two middle fingers into your overly slick pussy. Stretching you just enough to help you get closer to bliss. He thrusts them at a steady pace—never letting up the suction on your clit. Tongue teasing under the hood in the way he knows you love.

“Fuck! Just like that, Tama please, m’gonna cum,” you whine, tilting your head to look at him again, meeting his gaze. His eyes are half lidded, pale cheeks colored in pink. He’s so pretty it hurts. Your hands start to throb from tensing so hard—circulation cutting off.

The knot of your orgasm tightens frighteningly fast. Tamaki pumps his fingers three more times and just the sight of him is too overwhelming. The base of your skull digs into your pillow as the water balloon pops. Pleasure gushing through your limbs like warm waves.

Your mouth opens in a silent O shape as your entire body goes taught. Your back arches off the bed, stomach muscles clenching. Your pussy acting as a vice while you cum around Tamaki’s fingers. He moves fluidly with your hips as you roll them into his mouth.

Your husband pulls his mouth off your overly sensitive clit with a pop. Fingers still fucking the life out of you.

“Look at you, such a good girl, cumming on my fingers so sweetly,” Tamaki coos. His pink tongue pokes out to lick the slick off his shiny lips. He moans at the taste. The sight pushes a whimper out of your throat.

After a few seconds, your body begins to melt back into into the mattress below. Thighs releasing their death grip on his head. You breathe heavily, watching Tamaki push himself up with one hand, sitting on his haunches. His fingers are still in your pussy & you swallow thickly at the realization.

“You’re too good at that,” you breathe, chancing a peak at your husband’s full, hard cock. It’s a pretty dick. Thick & pale, sticking straight out, pink at the tip. It twitches a few times at your praise. His precum making the tip shiny & saliva gathers in your mouth. You want to lick him clean & swallow him whole. Instead you snap your gaze to his face.

Tamaki is already smiling down at you like he’s read your mind. He takes his fingers from your pussy slowly. Thumb rolling over your clit, making you wince.

“I know you wanna suck my cock but m’gonna knock you now, okay sweet girl? Want me to untie your hands?” He whispers sweetly, running the knuckles of his clean hand over your cheek. You nod, humming softly—only slightly embarrassed by his nasty words.

“Please,” you laugh, tugging on the silk for emphasis. He chuckles gently in return, leaning over to untie your wrists. As he does, the warm, spongy tip of his cock accidentally glides through the mess he made of your pussy. Massaging your puffy clit, making you both moan simultaneously. The weight of his cock making you burn like you have a fever.

Tamaki’s eyes are intense as they stare into yours. He lets you free, hands hovering nearing your face. You pause, flexing your fingers, blood flowing through your veins. You can feel the tension smoldering deliciously between you both, close to blazing.

Hands plant themselves on either side of your head. Tamaki’s warm lips are suddenly smashing against yours desperately. He tilts his head to the side as his lips meet yours over & over. Your fingers finally tangle through his soft hair, tugging on it roughly. He lets his sharp canines catch on your bottom lip in return. Hungrily swallowing the moans he’s pulling from you. A wet tongue only plays with yours briefly.

Tamaki breaks the kiss, sitting back on his heels. Your hands fall limply to your sides when he moves away. He places his palms on your inner thighs, pushing them wide open. You let out a sound of protest, lower lip jutting out. He bites the tip of his tongue, looking amused. The man loves to see you pout.

“Don’t pout my queen, I know what your pretty cunt really wants,” he teases, lightly slapping your clit. You jolt in surprise, fingers fisting the soft material of the sheets.

“Yeah—okay, please fuck me,” you agree, noticing sweat beading in the hollow of your throat.

“I’m gonna stuff you full princess,” Tamaki says, voice airy & light. One hand keeping you spread, the other gripping the base of his shaft & he pushes his slick cock head inside. His jaw clenches at the tight warmth of your pussy.

“I know Tama, c’mon, wanna make you a daddy again,” you tease, wolfish grin pulling at your lips. Tamaki pauses, blinking at you in surprise—cheeks a soft pink. He looks too cute. Said man raises an eyebrow, slipping the rest of his cock in without any warning. Punching a strangled sound from your lungs as you grip your pillow for leverage.

“My queen’s got a filthy mouth,” Tamaki croons, hooking your knees over his elbows—effectively folding you like a pretzel as leans forward. Hands braced by your shoulders this time. “It’s hot,” he giggles. The glare you level him with holds no heat behind it.

He wiggles his eyebrows playfully and pulls his hips backwards teasingly. He only pulls out halfway before thrusting forward smoothly. You grip his shoulders, head falling backwards into the mattress. His cock is so so good.

“Fuck—Tamaki, f-feels amazing,” you moan throatily. The glide of his cock along the inside of your walls is heavenly. Splitting you open just the way you love. He lets the way your body writhes underneath him guide his pace. Wanting to make you howl. You desperately move your hips the best you can to keep up with him.

“Yeah? Your pussy fits me like a glove princess, makes me feel so good.” Tamaki pants slightly, warm breath ghosting over your face. He’s drinking in your breathy moans like a parched man.

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, hanging onto his muscled forearms now. “Harder, please Tama,” you beg, feeling breathless. Your face scrunches up in pleasure as your eyes flutter shut. All you can focus on is the slick feeling of his cock gliding in & out of you, carving out a space.

“That’s such a good girl, asking for what she wants—just like I told her,” Tamaki praises, voice low & sweet like honey. He gives you what you want, making it his goal to curve hips slightly so he can hit your sweet spot dead on.

Your nails dig into his flesh & your back raises off the bed the best it can in this folded position. Your veins are buzzing with pleasure as he fucks you. Eyes rolling so hard back into your skull you’re afraid they’ll get stuck.

“Tamaki!” You almost sob. “I can—ah, oh my god, fucking feels like you’re hitting my cervix.” Your legs flex over his elbows, his strength keeping you pinned however he chooses.

“It’s called a mating press for a reason baby,” Tamaki huffs a laugh, his eyebrows pinching in pleasure as the sound of his pelvis smacking your ass pushes him closer to the edge.

This continues for a while. You’re unsure how long. Tamaki keeps making you cum so intensely you see stars. Hearing going fuzzy. Your hips are starting to ache & then you’re begging him to cum inside you—making his already stiff cock twitch repeatedly. He wants to fill you up so so badly, he just also loves making you cum.

“You’re so sweet when you cum on my cock like that princess,” he whispers. The pretty moans leaving his mouth are music to your ears.

Tamaki knows he’s toed the edge as much as he can & now he’s about to explode. Your pussy squeezes rhythmically around him from your latest orgasm & it’s not helping. His groin aches.

“Tamaki, cum inside me baby,” you murmur, hands reaching up to frame his face. Unable to help the little ah sounds spilling out of you.

“I can’t wait to see your belly stretched with my baby again, such a good mama,” he coos softly, tone brimming with love. Sweat has started to drip from his chin onto your neck & you’re just as sweaty as he is. “Fuck, m’gonna cum, you’re made to take my cock, made to give me babies, my goddess,” Tamaki whines, thrusting shallow & desperate.

You can’t deny the way it makes your pussy flutter around him with the way filth leaves his mouth so easily. Those tiny squeezes must be enough to push him over the edge because he shoves his cock inside you completely. Curly, coarse hair at the base of his cock teasing your clit. Tamaki fills you to the brim, choking on the moans in his throat. Stuffs you with small thrusts, sucking in air through his teeth when he starts to get over sensitive.

You feel so full, wanting so badly for him to get you pregnant. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him to your chest as Tamaki drops your legs. You let out a groan of relief, feet tingling as you crack your toes. The two of you catch your breath for a moment, hearts thundering.

Eventually, your husband rises, sitting back on his calves. Forcing you to drop your hands to the bed once again. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip as he pulls out of you slowly, admiring the sticky, white cum coating his cock. He groans as he tracks the way his cum trails out of you. Before he can think better of it he drags a thumb over your pussy. Gathering a bit of his cum & wrapping his lips around his thumb to suck it off.

“Tamaki!” You gasp, cheeks burning from the nasty sight. You’re ashamed to admit that it makes your pussy throb.

“I wanted a taste,” he teases, pulling his thumb from his mouth with a wet pop. A surprised laugh tears out of you & then suddenly Tamaki is laughing too. You both giggle as he lies down on his side, facing you. Placing a palm over your lower belly. You slowly intertwine your fingers with his, resting your hands back on your stomach.

“You’re lucky we didn’t wake up Chiyoko,” you mumble, halfhearted in your attempt to scold him. He just laughs.

“I would’ve put her back to bed my queen,” Tamaki teases. You hum, content with his answer, body floating.

“I can’t wait to be pregnant again,” you say in a hushed voice, eyes drifting shut as you relax.

“You’ll be just as beautiful as you always are,” Tamaki whispers in a voice so sweet it’s tooth rotting. The two of you both enjoy the post orgasm haze for a little bit longer before you do anything else.

#tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki x reader #tamaki smut #tamaki amajiki smut #amajiki tamaki x reader #amajiki x reader #mha oneshot #mha smut #mha x reader #my hero smut #my hero x reader #suneater #suneater x reader #bnha amajiki

1K notes · View notes

corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Text

Jack & Coke - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs

Summary: When your best friend Eddie betrays you, you head to The Hideout for a drink—and maybe something more.

Note: This is what comes from late night conversations and texts that say “I had another angsty eddie thought.”

Warnings: angst, family issues, smut, p in v, age gap but both parties are well over 18, oral, m receiving

Words: 4.8k

“And then you put your middle finger riiiiight here,” Eddie explains patiently, tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as he adjusts your grip on the guitar neck. “Perfect. Now, give a little strum.”

The A-chord doesn’t sound as good as when he plays it, but it’s an improvement since you’d started this impromptu lesson half an hour ago.The fact that butterflies flapped their wings in your stomach every time he touched you didn’t help your concentration, either.

“I still like it better when you play,” you tell him shyly, lifting the guitar and handing it back to him. “You’re, like, a natural-born rockstar.”

Eddie grins, leaning back against your bed. “Yeah, well, you can’t teach this kind of bad-assery,” he teases, booping you on the nose playfully and inadvertently sending a shockwave of shivers down your spine.

You’re about to muster up the courage to nudge him back when you hear the front door open.

“I’m home!” Andrea shouts obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes. You miss the initial flash of fear that washes over your best friend’s face, mistaking his grimace for a mutual dislike of your older sister.

You know that everyone has issues with their siblings; even ones that are close-knit still have their share of rivalries. But your relationship with Andrea goes beyond the usual bickering. Since you were very young, Andrea has bullied and tormented you incessantly. As kids, Andrea would break her old toys and tell your parents that you did it, that way they would buy her newer and better toys. From the moment that Andrea hit puberty, she was the “hot one.” Never mind not being the “pretty sister,” you had to deal with being invisible because all eyes were glued to Andrea. Then you practically were invisible when you started high school and Andrea pretended she didn’t even know you. It didn’t matter that you’d never ratted her out for all the times she snuck out of the house after your parents went to sleep. But any little thing you did wrong, Andrea went straight to your parents and snitched. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if you squealed on your sister anyway since she was quite obviously your parents’ favorite.

When boys did talk to you, it was because they wanted to get to your sister. Some of them thought treating the little sister as a charity case would get them into Andrea’s pants. The only time it was ever different was when Eddie Munson started talking to you your freshman year. He plopped down next to you at your lunch table and started talking to you about the copy of The Hobbit you had been reading. At first you thought this was another ploy to get to Andrea through you, but the longer he talked about things far nerdier than the book in your hands, you figured this guy might actually just want to talk to you. It was an odd and gratifying feeling. The first time you’d mentioned that you were Andrea’s sister, Eddie actually seemed surprised. “You two share blood?” he said. “She’s a goddamn tornado that destroys everything in its path. And you…you’re like a rainbow.” It’s the greatest compliment you’ve ever gotten.

As your friendship with Eddie grew, you began to tell him more about how Andrea treated you. How she’d hurl the meanest, most vile words your way with no provocation. You didn’t need to provoke Andrea, she was constantly on the offensive. “Why does she treat me like shit all the time?” you’d ask, and Eddie would reply, “She doesn’t need a reason. There’s just venom in her blood.”

Andrea was the walking embodiment of those luminescent fish that were so beautiful and shiny on the outside, only to lure the smaller, weaker fish in so that it could crush them. Her jet black hair was always shiny and never a strand was out of place. No blemish ever dared to appear on her skin, leaving her with the smoothest, most glowing complexion. Her curves seemed to be perfectly sculpted, defying anyone to not look at her and either want to be her or want to be with her. Obviously, it was impossible for you to keep up with her current flavor of the week.

“Are you going to play for me?” you ask as Eddie just sits with the guitar in his lap. You scoot until your thigh is pressed up against his. It would be so easy to tilt your head and rest it on his shoulder. The comforting scent of cigarettes, Old Spice deodorant, and a hint of weed floods your senses as you try to be as close to him as you can—without being creepy about it, you remind yourself.

“I, um,” Eddie mumbles, his eyes watching your bedroom door intently. “I thought you said your sister wasn’t going to be home?”

“I didn’t think she was,” you say with a shrug. “But you know Andrea, she does whatever the hell she wants. Maybe she met her quota for making children cry today and decided to come home early.”

Eddie nods and looks back down to the guitar in his lap. He swallows so loud that you’re able to hear it, which has you raising your eyebrows.

“Look, I know she’s demonic,” you say. “But she probably doesn’t even know we’re in here. Besides, if she was going to torture someone, it would be me, not you.”

“I don’t want her to hurt you. I’d rather she hurt me, actually,” Eddie says, still looking down at the guitar in his lap. More words rest on the tip of his tongue, but the bedroom door flying open stops him.

“I said, I’m—oh, hi, Eddie,” she trills, giving a tiny wave. “Come back for round two?”

Round two? You glance over at Eddie, waiting for an explanation, but he just turns beet red and sheepishly drops his gaze.

Andrea takes in the puzzled look on your face and laughs harshly. “Aw, did your best friend not tell you?” There’s nothing but malice in her tone, and you feel like a rock landed in your lower abdomen. “Well, let me fill you in.”

“N-No, I should…” Eddie starts, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I swung by yesterday…I forgot you’d picked up that extra shift…”

Andrea rolls her eyes impatiently. “Write a goddamn novel, why don’t you?” she snaps. “I’ll summarize: you weren’t home, I was, and Eddie and I hooked up.”

“H-Hooked up?” The butterflies now have lead wings, and you feel the bile rising in your throat.

“We slept together,” Eddie clarifies softly at the same time that Andrea quips, “we fucked.”

You try to blink back the tears that mist over your eyes. Your sister knows how you feel about Eddie; you weren’t naïve enough to tell her, she snooped through your diary and has been teasing you about it ever since. And while Eddie has no idea about the massive crush you’ve been harboring, he certainly is aware of how awful your sister is. His betrayal stings one thousand times worse.

“Your bed is really great for sex,” Andrea sneers as you stumble to your feet. “Not that you’d know.”

This has to be a nightmare. You’re going to wake up at any moment, and the idea of Eddie and Andrea sleeping together will be a figment of your overactive imagination. It has to be, there’s no other explanation. But when you glance down at Eddie and see the shame that fills his face, you know. It’s real. Your best friend betrayed you in possibly the worst way he could have done so. All to get his dick wet.

“What the fuck?” It’s all that you can get out of your mouth. You suddenly feel like you’ve run ten miles. You’re lightheaded, your pulse is racing, and sweat is beginning to break out along your hairline. Eddie sets the guitar down and stands up. He reaches for you and you flinch away and pull back from him. The look of hurt that flashes in his eyes would normally make you want to wrap him up in your arms. But now? Now that you know that he fucked your sister in your bed, you don’t want him to ever touch you again.

“Sweetheart, I’m—”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” you snap. Looking past him, you can see your sister’s face is full of glee as a self-satisfied smirk settles on her lips. “What was in it for you, huh? Just to hurt me?”

Andrea scoffs and brings a hand up to her chest, reminding you of a southern belle clutching her pearls. “Are you insinuating that I don’t have feelings for dear Edward?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Yeah, Eddie, you want to say, that’s the girl you slept with.

“I would never insinuate that you have any feelings at all. Pretty sure you were born with a lump of coal in your chest instead of a heart. Come here, I’ll stab you with my letter opener and we’ll see the black blood come fucking rushing out,” you seethe.

“Always so dramatic,” Andrea says with a sigh. “That must be why Eddie doesn’t reciprocate the silly little crush you have on him.”

Eddie’s eyes snap to you, and at any other time, you would’ve said him finding out is the worst possible thing to happen to you. But that’s been usurped now, so you really don’t care how he’s going to react.

“Must be,” you retort, “or maybe he’s only into psycho bitches.” Clenching your fists, you turn to face Eddie. “I hope her pussy was worth it.” You storm over to your bedroom door, pushing past the both of them. Before you leave, you spin around to face the traitors. “I never want to see either of you again.” You don’t wait for either to respond; you just grab your bag and rush out to your car.

You’re not sure why you drive to the Hideout; maybe it’s because you still want the comfort of Eddie, but you tell yourself it’s because the drinks are cheap and payday isn’t until next week.

“I’ll take a Jack & Coke, please,” you tell Lou. The bartender nods, and you add, “you can put it on Eddie’s tab.” He is the reason you’re drinking, after all.

The thought of their bodies melded into one, him holding her the way you’d only dreamed he’d hold you—it’s too much to bear. And now, like an idiot, you’d left them alone to do it again.

Lou slides your drink over with a small smile, the most affection you’ve ever seen from the usually stoic man. You down the drink, and then another, frowning when you get the urge to break the seal.

“Be right back,” you mutter to no one in particular, hoisting yourself off of the barstool and traipsing towards the restroom. You get a decent glimpse of yourself in the mirror: eyes still slightly puffy from when you’d been crying in the car, mascara smudged and smeared. A flick of the makeup wand has you looking a bit perkier already, and you practice your smile a few times before walking back out.

Lou has another drink ready for you, cocking his head towards the other side of the bar. “Paid for by that gentleman over there,” he informs you, raising his eyebrows.

You look to where he’s motioning and see a gorgeous older man giving you a little wave. His black t-shirt clings to his muscular frame, and you can’t help but notice the way his biceps ripple with each small movement. He looks to be in his mid- to late-forties, but his hair doesn’t show any signs of thinning. Short brown curls cover his scalp, cropped closely at the base of his neck. His upper body is covered in tattoos, and you immediately wonder where else he has ink.

You saunter over to him, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously, just as you’d watched Andrea do countless times before. “I guess I should be thanking you for this drink,” you say, giggling and taking a sip.

“Pleasure’s mine,” he offers, grabbing his green Heineken bottle and taking a swig. “Looked kinda sad, and pretty girls should always have a smile on their face.”

“It worked.” You rest your hand on his bicep, surprising yourself with your own brazenness. Or maybe it’s just tipsiness?

“You gotta name, pretty girl?” the mystery man asks, and you tell him. “Pretty name, too. Damn,” he muses. “I’m Jack. Just, uh, moved back to Hawkins a coupla days ago.”

“Moved back? So you don’t need the welcome tour?” you pout, earning a chuckle from him.

“Pretty girl, I’ll take you up on anything you offer.”

You consider his proposition. “Let me finish this drink and we’ll see.”

His hand rests on your thigh as he tells you that he’s got a job lined up at the local power plant—immediately reminding you of Wayne, but you push the feeling down. You allow yourself to get lost in his sky blue eyes, somehow both haunting and comforting.

You kill out your third drink, contemplating ordering one more. Either Jack was paying, or Eddie was, so all you had to worry about was how drunk you wanted to get.

“What had you all upset earlier, hm?” Jack asks, running his thumb along the denim above your knee. “Don’t tell me it’s some stupid boy.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you then.” You giggle again—you can’t seem to stop giggling around him. “He’s not worth the time.”

Jack shakes his head. “He’s not. You don’t need to play his games. What you need,” he says seriously, “is a real man.”

“And where can I find one?”

His lips crash against yours hungrily, gently parting them with his tongue. He tastes like the hoppiness of beer and stale cigarettes, but you don’t mind.

“That tour you mentioned earlier,” he murmurs in your ear, “can the first stop be my place?”

You give him a pout, leaning forward into his space, just enough for him to get a peek down your shirt. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

Jack looks around the bar, doing a doubletake when he sees the bathrooms in the back corner. He slides from his seat and takes one of your hands in his. There’s a smirk on his face as he walks backwards towards the bathrooms, tugging you along.

“Just as impatient as I am,” he says. “We shouldn’t wait any longer then.”

Without taking notice of if it’s the men or women’s room, you follow Jack in as he nudges a bathroom door open with his elbow. He’s quick to lock it behind you and his hands are instantly on you, grabbing at your waist as his mouth finds yours again. The kisses are urgent and sloppy, no teasing, just devouring one another. Your hands move down to his beltbuckle, making quick work of it and working on the button of his jeans. Strong, large hands grope over your chest as you shove his pants down, but just as you break from the kiss to get down on your knees, there’s a loud banging on the bathroom door. You’re startled and grab onto Jack’s arm, and he’s quick to wrap it around you reassuringly.

“Not in my bar!” Lou shouts through the door.

Well, you think, can’t show my face at The Hideout again. Your face is burning in embarrassment as Jack huffs an awkward chuckle and resituates his belt.

“I guess my place is the first stop on the tour then. That is, if you still want to?” Jack’s eyes meet yours, obviously wanting to convey that if you’re no longer interested, that’s fine. But a little embarrassment was nothing compared to how you felt earlier in the day.

“I want to,” you say. For emphasis, you grab the back of his neck and give him a kiss that proves how much you want him. When you pull away, there’s a dazed smile on his face that may be the most endearing thing you’ve seen all day. He takes your hand in his and slowly opens the bathroom door. Luckily, Lou isn’t standing on the other side of it, but you’re sure he’s not far off, watching to make sure the two of you leave.

You force yourself not to look over at the bar as you and Jack head towards the door. It’s not like you think the bartender will tell anyone, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at the moment. Jack’s car isn’t the nicest, but that’s not something you ever cared about anyway. If it gets you from point A to point B, that’s all that matters. The gentleman that he is, he holds the passenger’s side door open for you and you slip inside. He practically runs around to the driver’s side and it makes you let out a soft giggle. When’s the last time someone seemed this eager to spend time with you? And seem to be genuinely enjoying it?

The ride to his place is only about five minutes, and Jack makes sure you stay in the car until he can come around and open the door for you again. The apartment complex isn’t the nicest either, but what was in Hawkins? His place is on the first floor and you watch his hands as he fumbles with his keys. They’re large, calloused, from what you can only assume is years of work. Staring at them just makes you want to have them all over your body even more.

As soon as he swings the door open, he’s all over you again. Frantic kisses keep his lips connected to yours as the two of you clumsily make your way to his couch. The material is worn, but not dirty, and you find yourself once again fumbling with his belt as he sits on the cushions.

“Picking up where we left off?” Jack teases, throwing his head back in ecstasy as you get back on your knees and take him into your mouth. The saltiness of sweat and pre-cum hits your tongue, his cock edging towards your throat when he brings his hands to the back of your head and helping you find the perfect rhythm.

“J-Jesus Christ,” he hisses, bucking his hips slightly and watching the tears involuntarily pooling along your lash line. “First time back in that dive bar in years, and I managed to find the girl who gives the best head in Hawkins.”

As if to prove his point further, you cup his heavy balls as you lick up and down his shaft. You keep at it for a few minutes, swirling your tongue around his overly sensitive tip before he pulls away.

“You’re good–too good; but ‘m not gonna lie to you,” he admits when you stare up at him with a puzzled expression, “I don’t bounce back as fast as those college guys you’re probably used to, and I gotta be inside your pussy tonight.”

You nod, tugging your shirt above your head as he helps you shimmy out of your jeans. “Like what you see?”

Jack doesn’t answer right away; just unhooks your bra and watches it fall to the floor. His gaze immediately snaps back to your bare breasts, beckoning you over to straddle his waist. His hard length presses against your lace panties, and the two of you moan in tandem.

“I don’t think you need these,” he mumbles, running his thumb over the lace before tearing them off completely. His middle finger easily finds your clit as he makes slow, deliberate circles.

You can’t help the way you grind against his touch, begging him to stretch you so good. The finger drags through your folds before he slips it inside you.

“So wet already, hmm? Pretty girl must need another finger.” You cry out in pleasure as his forefinger breaches your hole, pumping faster until you feel the familiar tension building in your core.

“N-Need your cock inside me,” you manage, barely able to formulate a thought, let alone a coherent sentence.

He reaches into the pockets of the pants he discarded and fishes out his wallet to grab the foil-wrapped condom tucked away. Your eyes watch hungrily as he slips it over his cock, fucking his fist a few times to make sure he’s ready for you. His other hand grabs your waist and helps guide you until you’re hovering over his cock. Slowly, you begin to slide down, both of you letting out a groan as he first enters you. The stretch feels so good and from the way Jack’s squeezing his eyes closed and biting at his lower lip, you’d say it feels good for him as well.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Gives the best head and has the tightest pussy.”

Your only response is a whimper as you lower yourself even further, letting more of his cock fill you up. Once you no longer need your arms to steady yourself, you brace your hands on Jack’s chest. When your hands meet the fabric of his shirt though, you frown. Unable to form words as he finally bottoms out inside you, you tug at the dark material of his shirt, hoping he gets the hint. Reluctantly taking his hands off of you, he maneuvers out of his shirt and tosses it on the floor with his jeans. Most of his chest is covered in ink and you find your eyes trailing the different designs as you rock your hips back and forth. You slide your hands down to rest on his abdomen, since there’s no tattoos there, and you can get a better view of the artwork above. A snake is curled near his right collarbone and a little beneath that there are some sort of wings, but you’re not sure if it’s meant to be an angel, a bird, or something else. On the left side of his chest there is a bird, and it looks like a crow. There’s also a small “E” down near his heart that you can only assume is for an old girlfriend.

Jack starts rocking his hips up to meet yours and it has your mind completely forgetting about the tattoos as you close your eyes in pleasure. His hands feel rough where they rest on the skin of your waist, but it feels so good when he slides them around to the front and grabs your breasts. You give a particularly hard thrust of your hips when his thumb grazes over your right nipple. There’s a breathy chuckle below you as he sees how sensitive you are to his touch.

“Feel good, huh?” Jack asks. Breaths becoming more shallow, you nod your head. That’s not good enough for him, though. He gently pinches your nipple, just enough to get your attention, not enough to hurt. “Use your words for me, pretty girl.”

“It’s good,” you say. “So fucking good.”

“Tell me how it feels.”

“So deep,” you say through a moan. “You’re so big. I feel you everywhere.” It’s true. He’s definitely the largest you’ve ever been with, and in your position, it feels like he’s splitting you open. His arm wraps around your middle as he adjusts himself so he’s sitting up more, your faces closer together this way. As your eyes slip closed again, his lips settle on yours, licking into your mouth hungrily. His teeth graze your bottom lip and it causes you to moan into his mouth.

“You’re close,” he says. It’s not a question, but a bonafide statement; he already knows your body all too well. “Cream my cock, pretty girl. Just let go f’me.”

The coil snaps as he thrusts into you harder and faster than before. He spills into the condom with a groan of your name but doesn’t pull out right away. You keep him inside you as the two of you catch your breath, coming down from your highs.

“I should go,” you murmur, realizing that there is no way in hell that Andrea won’t rat you out for coming in late and smelling of sex. “Could you give me a lift back to the Hideout so I can get my car?”

Jack nods, discarding the used rubber in a nearby waste bin as you get dressed. You start to look for your underwear before remembering how he destroyed it, and it has you getting wet all over again.

He kisses you one last time in the bar parking lot. “Sorry I couldn’t stick around for round two,” you tease, “but maybe I’ll catch you here another time?”

“I sure fuckin’ hope so.”

You’re in your bedroom a few days later, frantically searching through your cassette collection for your favorite AC/DC tape. It’s not in the “As” section, where it would normally be, and you realize with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’d left it at Eddie’s a few weeks ago.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter. He was the only one allowed to borrow it–you’d gotten it signed by Angus Young when you saw the band in concert, and it meant everything to you. You needed it back.

The drive to Eddie’s trailer seems to fly by, now that you’re dreading facing him. You knock on the door once to no answer, but his van is parked in front, so you knock again, louder this time.

“I need my AC/DC tape,” you snarl as soon as he opens the door.

He rubs his face, combing his fingers through his hair. “Can I drop it off later? And then maybe we can talk?” he asks meekly.

“No.” You shake your head and put out your hand. “Go get the tape and give it to me now.”

Eddie glances around the trailer nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Look,” he starts, “now’s really not a good time…”

You scoff. “Why? Are you fucking another one of my family members? A cousin or something?”

A brief look of hurt flashes across Eddie’s face. He shakes his head and looks down at his feet before meeting your eyes again. “No. No, I wouldn’t…” he trails off with a sigh, sensing it’s useless—and he’s right. “My dad’s here.”

That’s one of the last things you expected to come out of his mouth. Your eyebrows raise in shock as you stare at him. Eddie hadn’t seen his father in years. Didn’t want to, according to him, no matter how many times his dad reached out. The relationship was tumultuous to say the least, but you felt you never had the right to offer any advice since you couldn’t relate to his situation. And Eddie never asked, so you weren’t going to say anything.

“Your dad?” you ask, just wanting to clarify.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He keeps speaking, but movement in the trailer behind him catches your eye. You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing what you think you are. An airy giggle bursts out of you, drawing both the attention of Eddie and the man in the living room—Eddie’s father, apparently.

“What?” Eddie asks, brow furrowing in confusion. He looks behind him to see his dad, then back to you, unsure of what is making you laugh. “What’s so funny?”

Eddie’s dad stares at you, eyes widening as he comes forward to stand next to his son at the door. The shit-eating grin on your face must be confusing both of them, but it’s wholly impossible for you not to find this whole situation highly amusing.

“Eddie?” his dad asks. “How do you know the pretty girl from the bar?”

Your ex-best friend’s gaze shoots to his father, head moving so fast that the curls whip around his head. Seeing them next to one another, you can see the resemblance. About the same height and build, same nose, and both covered in ink. Their curls are roughly the same color even if one has brown eyes and one has blue.

“W-What?” Eddie asks, looking from his dad back to you.

“Hi, Jack,” you say, giving the older man a wink.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Eddie asks, the color draining from his face. You wait a beat while the realization sets in. “She’s…he’s…” He turns back to you. “You fucked my dad?”

You laugh, shrugging as you reply, “Guess so.” You waltz past your bewildered friend–ex-friend– grabbing Jack’s hand as you lead him back to Eddie's bedroom.

“Wanna help me look for my tape?” you ask, hooking a finger through his belt loop and you bring your lips to whisper in his ear, “and maybe we can see about that round two?”

Jack grins, grabbing a handful of your ass as he follows you. “Looks like we found the next stop on our tour.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic

1K notes · View notes

missdaytonawrites · 1 year

Text

so it goes... • a. anderson

summary - dominance & dumbification HC's abby treats her partner like a dumb baby!

WC - 711

cw/tw - 18+ MDNI, total dumbification/brain breaking, dominant!abby, submissive!reader. a lil' smutty nearing the end. afab!reader, talk of strap-ons, talk of food and eating. abby is very low-key pervy in this i love.

A/N - as abbys favorite dummy, i felt like i had a duty to fufill with this one. oopsie daisies! dont have much to say except: dont ask about the phantom fic, or why i have seemed to find a home on the abby train. just *shoves this at you* take this! read this!

you did a number on me, but honestly, baby.. whos counting?

• she knew just how smart, hard-working and headstrong you were ever since you shook her hand the day you two met. it made her wanna help, wanna take it all away, she wanted to be your peace.

• abby knows that in order to get you to fully surrender, she's gonna have to work. so she did, it took a bit of conditioning but in no time you were more than willing to just accept her control.

• little things like: getting up before you so she's so she can wake you up. pulling your panties up for you, brushing and washing your hair for you, patting your back when you accomplish something, calling you “kid” (raaaaaahshshshdhshdirnfhfm)

• she has a bulletin board hung in her at-home office.. littered with coloring sheets, love notes, original works and more from you. she cherishes it all. and loves the reminders of how little you do bc she does it all for you

• she DEF puts your shoes on/ties your laces for you.

• constantly running your baths for you, making them nice, lighting candles etc. most likely isn’t going to get in with you, she wants to sit out and monitor so you don't get hurt. when you need to get the shampoo out of your hair? she gets closer to the edge of the tub, nestles her hand on the nape of your neck, and holds you while she lays you back into the water. so you dont drown ofc. bc ur TOTALLY gonna drown in the bath lmao

• cooks for you, and maybe even feeds you when she's feeling like it.

• puts you down for naps in the afternoon, you have a little sleeping nook in her office so she can still keep an eye on you.

• teaches you to kneel at her feet when she comes home from work!!!! she tells you to lay your head in her lap and let her read!!!!

• abby is 100% buying you branded clothing.. panties with her initials, shirts that say “abby’s girl.” she went as far as to buy you a collar with “property of: abigail anderson.” inscribed on the inside. if she chokes you hard enough while fucking you, the words make an indent on your skin.

• ✨ abby's strap is clear ✨ idc idc! argue wit ya mom!!!!

• abby was never really a religious girl.. but she swears up to god above that she can feel you squeezing her strap.

• refers to it as “her” cock, “her” dick ashqtfgegyshhhhhhhhh

• abby loves loves LOVES orgasm controoool!!! she picks up on the little tell-tale signs that you’re going to cum fairly quickly, and it isnt long after until shes asking if she can teach you how to cum on command.

• gets you so so fucking close, and makes you hold it. starting at a one minute delay, then three minutes, then five. before stopping what shes doing entirely, denying you of climax.

• once she finally decided you’ve had enough. she makes you count down from ten before you can come, she does this over and over. breaking your brain and pushing you into deeper submission

• ??? the first time you fall into subspace ??? oh my stars, abby ‘bout loses her goddamn mind! she can literally watch all thoughts leave your head, loves watching you go all stupid. she takes account of the shift in your face, the sudden increase of spasms in your legs, the broken moans. she just keeps fucking you back on her cock, telling you how pretty you are when you dont think <3!

• “my sweet little braindead baby, huh?”

• “y’probably don't even know what that means, hm?”

• “ah- yes baby, thats my stupid girl.”

• “mmmm.. say ‘bye, bye’ to your brain with me, little girl”

• and then literally stops fucking you so she can make you wave n’ say "bye, bye brain” with her.

• aftercare GOD !!!

• her favorite is to just let you relish in the floaty feeling of the after-glow.

• “took my cock so well, dummy. m’so proud.”

• she gets you a glass of water and an ibuprofen, because lets be real: you’re already sore.

• turns on a movie and tucks you both in, giving you kisses, scratching your back.

• falls asleep absolutely pussy-drunk and with her nose buried in your hair.

mmkay, byeeeee!

#abby anderson #the last of us fanfiction #abby headcanons #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #ellie williams smut #sapphic #tlou fic #lesbian #tlou2 #tlou hbo #ellie williams x female reader #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you

1K notes · View notes

dreamermonica · 1 year

Text

BLUE LOCK BOYS + ROMANCE TROPES

—includes isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser (sorry if this asshole's part is freakishly longer than the other boys' parts. favoritism exists in this blog, unfortunately.)

—fem pronouns are used, swearing cause it's me, major crack, fluff, messy attempt at humor, teenage pining and such, god help me t.t

ISAGI YOICHI is definitely childhood friend material. sworn friends ever since diapers, promises of being together till the very end, marriage proposals at the tender age of 6—all that type of cheesy stuff that would get you squealing and have your little feet kicking in the air out of giddiness. but as time goes on with him being set on football and you doing your own thing, the promise gradually gets left behind in your heads, slowly getting buried underneath all the pressure of being an adolescent. the once childish promise only resurfaces during an unexpected reunion—with both of you having achieved your dream careers. will your puppy love rise once more from the depths of your memories and perhaps turn into something...more serious? hah. what are you talking about? this old friend of yours should take you out for a proper dinner first, atleast.

BACHIRA MEGURU with the ugly duckling trope. no friends, seen as an outcast, too eccentric for his other classmates to comprehend—and there's you—the popular and extroverted individual loved and befriended by many others. you as the campus crush, who found an interest in the lonely bowl cut boy. though your curiosity is piqued at first, you were quite reluctant in actually befriending him. with rumors of him being a weirdo—most people often shy'd away from the idea of letting him inside their radars. but you aren't going to let that stop you from—wait, he's actually super sweet? and kind too? surprisingly a huge sweetheart? what kind of plot twist is this?! though the monster he speaks of kind of scares you, you're still terribly attracted like a fly to a light by his strong will to become the best striker in the foreign dimension of soccer. in the end he's just doing what he loves, a good-hearted boy who simply got misunderstood for his obsession with football—oh? why is your heart suddenly picking up its pace?

ITOSHI RIN with...*drum rolls*...quiet kid at the back of your class. 😐 not that surprising is it. anyways, this emo kid is obsessed with soccer, yet still able to keep up with his studies just fine. though he's mostly neutral with everybody, you sometimes fear the he might be plotting all your deaths with that unconventional stare of his that looks like he's constantly displeased. but you eventually come to a conclusion that that isn't the case. you both take the same bus home everyday, and you can confidently confirm that he really just looks like that. the stare only softens when he brings out his phone and starts playing granny or something. not to be a creepy stalker or anything—your field of view just always inconveniently contains him and the contents on his phone! he appears to have a knack for the genre of horror. games, movies, even tutorials. (this lil' cheat—) but of course, for this headcannon to work my way imma have to embarrass you in front of him for chemistry and relationship development purposes :p. so once upon a time, where you're tired as hell after some shit going down in school, you fail to remember your usual spot and slump down onto an open seat beside itoshi rin—who was on his phone paying you zero mind whatsoever, playing a horror game that you recognized to be some popular roblox game. you don't know if it's the tiredness that took over you, or the sole fact that seeing rin play so goddamn horrible on the game got on your nerves up to the point you couldn't hold in your thoughts anymore and outright told him what you'd come to regret in just a few moments—“what the hell, dude. you're terrible. you're supposed to get the key and then—” about to reach for the phone out of sheer frustration, you suddenly pause, realizing what you've just done. oh no. your eyes flicker to his expression and holy crap. rin itoshi is giving you the biggest, bombastic, judgemental, dehumanizing side eye you've ever seen in your life. actually, scratch that—he's full on staring at you like you've just directed 57 slurs at him. you feel like you've shrunk into a mere insect with how intense his stare is, mentally slowly melting into a puddle of shame as you stand up and profusely bow while spewing out pitiful apologies. after a few moments, you hear him heave a deep sigh, you slowly crane your neck up to look at him expectantly—only to find him and his absurdly gorgeous face challengingly raising a brow at you, “then what do you suppose i should do, miss i'm-so-good-at-the-game? please continue.” rin roblox kid confirmed.

ITOSHI SAE as the regular who has caught your eye trope. i really wanted to use childhood friends on this guy with the amount of angst it'd produce but isagi already got the trope so...'eye candy regular at the local coffee shop you work part-time at' trope it is. a bit specific but yeah you get what i mean :). it's hard not to notice this man whenever he comes in with that unfortunately charming blank face of his—so charming that in fact some girls from other nearby schools actually gather to seat themselves and wait for his appearance, shoot their shot with the guy and get immediately shut down with just one cold sweep of his indifferent stare. being pretty sure does have its downsides. you can still feel the shivers from when he full-on glared at a girl who was getting a bit too persistent. you've never really interacted with him aside from taking his regular order, but there's still the underlying fear that he'd cuss you out and embarrass you in front of teenage girls should you get his order wrong so now you have a note plastered onto the wall that always has his regular order tip up to the notch—with a highlighted nickname, “duckbutt james” since you never caught his name. but oh fuck, he sees it one uneventful day and raises a brow at you, nonchalantly and coolly saying that his name is “itoshi sae”. god. is this the part where you roll over and die in shame? why did you even think it was a good idea to put the note in point-blank range?! it's the same as basically shoving it in his face! you think you might pass out—but then suddenly—he smiles. he smiles. what. but it immediately disappears as fast as it came so now you're questioning if you're hallucinating or not. he takes his usual order and heads out once more, but as your head clears itself from the multiple stages of grief you experienced in one singular moment—you think of his name in wonder, finding it terribly familiar. itoshi sae. itoshi sae. itoshi...SAE?! WAIT—

MICHAEL KAISER is definitely enemies to lovers material, change my mind. a football hotshot who has to begrudgingly graduate first before officially signing a contract with the famous german world-wide football team—bastard münchen. at this point in life, he's basically already successful, so he literally just ignores and passes up all opportunities to actually study anything that isn't related to football. he's not a troublemaker perse, but you're convinced the entire faculty staff hates him due to the amount of unnecessary work his laziness spews out, but they would still have to pass him regardless of his lax attitude towards his studies due to the sole fact that the entirety of germany has their eyes on this genius of a prodigy. it was relatively obvious that failing him and delaying his awaited pro-debut would do no good for the name of the school, so he's now spared from the chains of corrupted education. despite being in the same class as him, kaiser was someone you've barely talked to—you both only interacted a grand total of two times. one was regarding a class project, and the other was that time you walked in on him getting confessed to for the what, thousandth time? needless to say, you're both barely acquainted, so being friends was out of the question. besides, it's not like you want to befriend him anyway (y/n moment)—you were both complete opposites. you were a study freak, and he was an infamous prodigy who had a passion for kicking a ball—he's the emperor who lived in a completely different world from your mundane life as a mere commoner in his story.

*rubs hands together* now it's time to get even more delusional, folks. it's just supposed to be a normal day but oh nooo, you're now both forced to fully acknowledge each other's presence after a teacher falsely accuses both of you and sends you to detention—highly biased should you add. it's one of those low teachers that act passive aggressively with his early success. it's bound to get people jealous, but shouldn't you be proud as a teacher? whatever. all that you know is that you're now both stuck in detention and you're blaming him now. you know very well you're both completely innocent so for what exactly are you blaming him? absolutely nothing. you're just bored and michael kaiser was your only source of entertainment in this bland and empty classroom. jabs are thrown around from across the room as you are unable to initiate conversation without you throwing an insult everytime he attempts to flirt with you. you asked him to be quiet? babe, he's going to do the exact opposite. you asked him to shut the fuck up? he'll say the typical 'make me'. your sanity is all but squeezed out of your entire being by the time your detention is over, finally being dismissed for the day until he stops you from actually leaving the room by holding your shoulder in place and asks for your number with a playful wink. you want to slap him, maybe kick his shins, roundhouse him in the face and run away but with the knowledge that you'll both still be meeting in your class the next day is a bitter reminder that you should atleast try to remain civil with this young and growing superstar if you want to survive the school year. albeit begrudgingly—you punch down your numbers into his phone (you put a random number in at first but he quickly confirms it to be false when your phone doesn't receive the message he sent just in-case. tsk.) and immediately leave the premises after he cracks a joke about seeing him tomorrow night for dinner.

unbeknownst to you, he was the one who put the anonymous tip in the school's online forum that falsely landed both of you in detention—all just to get some alone time with you and grab your number without attracting too much unnecessary attention because oh my lord he's genuinely interested in someone who isn't a part of his football kingdom?? wowowowowow

sae reawakened my duckbutt (sasuke) phase ong (also reader doesn't know what the world-class midfielder sae looks like, only his name so that's why she was shocked)

#my bllk phase is THRIVING #and it's all because of this fruity german twink named michael jackson #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #bllk x you #har❗fiction

2K notes · View notes

red-hot-kick · 6 months

Text

Theory: Ryuji was popular, before.

I'm not entirely sure if anyone has really talked about this but I maintain my interpretation that, in the canon of Persona 5, Ryuji used to be very (or at least moderately) popular prior to the events of the story.

This is something I've gotten into before when talking to friends who like the game and the character, but I haven't really considered writing it down until now. The main argument I have is based on three things:

Things Ryuji alluded to in canon (but no one believed him on)

The deliberate choice of making him a track athlete

Typecasting for voice actors

1: "There were girls all over me!"

I don't really have the time to go on a deep dive through all the instances in which he hints at his reputation before the Kamoshida incident, but I think the most clear-cut representation of this was during the scene where he and Ann spend the day with Futaba during her post-palace social rehabilitation:

So here's the thing...I don't think he's lying about this. Nobody in the room would be that impressed to find out whether Ryuji was popular since they are already friends (or in Mona's case, he really just doesn't care), so it wouldn't make sense for him to lie.

Regarding everyone's reactions though, here's my impression: Ann was simply not aware of what was going on with the track team, being predominantly focused on dealing with rumors, her friendship with Shiho, and her modeling career (and eventually Kamoshida's advances once he started doing that shit) and she mentions a few times that she and Ryuji weren't actually close before joining the PT; they were just in the same class in middle school. Futaba hasn't interacted with anyone her age in years and isn't the most reliable source when it comes to what people generally find attractive; just because she doesn't have any interest in Ryuji doesn't mean that nobody her age would. And Morgana is a cat that brags constantly about how cool he is, so he shouldn't be throwing rocks.

There are many other times in the game when you get little glimpses of his social savvy, and from my understanding of Royal (I'm an OG vanilla P5 player and haven't done 3rd-semester yet, so don't kill me) when the track team returns to "how it was", he is getting along extremely well with everyone. Not only was he the team's ace: this kid was also expected to become the captain by his senior year (as briefly mentioned when he bumps into his former senpai at the gym, iirc). That's huge! If his team held him in such high regard, then the general student body of Shujin surely had a similar opinion. This brings me to my next point:

2: Girls like boys that run fast(???)

This is honestly something that baffles me. It's also really difficult for me to substantiate; any source material on this is obviously in Japanese and if I could find any of it, I sure as hell can't read it. The only English-language source I know of I cannot find anymore; I think it was an old Tofugu article? However. If you've watched any romance anime set in a high school during the last 20 years, you might have seen this trope at some point: the school sports festival is happening, and the relay race is kind of a huge deal (it's the final event! a make-or-break moment for the class!). The boy thinks to himself "If I win this race, I'll be able to win her heart/ask her out/etc." Low-stakes drama ensues. Maybe a confession happens.

This is (from what I've been told) based on a long-standing trend of girls and women self-reporting in surveys about how, oftentimes, their crushes in junior or senior high school were simply "the boy who ran the fastest in the races". I have no idea what this means in a broader cultural context. It makes no goddamn sense to me at all. Do not cite me on this. But I think it's worth keeping in mind, even if it's almost entirely speculative (and possibly outdated) information. And even if it's just based on rumors, don't you think it's pretty in-character for Ryuji to go for a track scholarship—despite being adept at other sports like baseball and football/soccer, as mentioned in P5 and P5D—because he was aware of the potential of being more popular with girls? Of course, his priority would be getting the scholarship and paying his way through school to lighten his mother's burden, but hey, getting a girlfriend on the way up wouldn't be half bad!

I think this could also inform us as to why Kamoshida (as a predator who wanted attention from high school girls) felt so threatened by the track team in particular, and why he felt a need to specifically knock Ryuji down a peg and sought out a weakness to do so (as opposed to targeting any of the probably just-as-popular boys on the many other athletic teams and clubs in the school). Just some food for thought on this one! Also, if anyone can find a source or has any insight on the relay race thing, please share. I am so confused about it.

3: Typecasting

So this is something that you really only notice if you are very into keeping up with seiyuu in Japan. I am not one of those people. But I do have some favorite voice actors! One of these being Mamoru Miyano.

So I freakin' love this dude. He's voiced a lot of my favorite characters, sings incredibly well, and has an unreal sense of comedy. He's stated in interviews that his acting inspiration is Jim Carrey, and let me tell you: it shows. He is also quite consistently typecast into certain roles, predominantly as princely pretty-boy types, Coolguys, or complete fucking nutcases. Sometimes all three at the same time (shoutout to my boy Ling FMA!)

ATLUS definitely cast him for P5 because of his comedic chops. But I think they also cast him because having him voice someone like Ryuji is a great way to subvert expectations for the player. I think it's supposed to give you whiplash—"what do you mean the voice of LIGHT FUCKING YAGAMI is coming out of this guy's mouth?" "why does the delinquent character sound like king of the host club Tamaki Suou?" "isn't that Rin Matsuoka's voice?" etc. etc. etc.

(here's a quick list, just to really get the idea across. maybe you recognize a few.)

This is obviously a non-comprehensive list, but something that a lot of the characters he's voiced over the years have in common is that they were considered cool, handsome, or popular. Not just for fans, but within the canon of their stories! So...what does that mean? What does that say about how we should see Ryuji?

I think players are supposed to expect that he will fall into one of those categories too, and then be surprised to find that it's not the case—that he's been isolated and made bitter and resigned by what happened to him the year before.

Speaking of his tone, I think it's very telling that Ryuji actually forgets to keep up the delinquent act a lot in the original JP audio, which unfortunately doesn't really carry over in the ENG translation. The delivery of his JP lines sounds a bit more subdued in comparison too—yeah he's got a lot of energy and is very hotheaded, but when he gets to talking about serious shit, he sounds a lot more regretful and melancholy as opposed to the EN delivery which depicts him as more resentful and outwardly angry. I think before Shit Went Down, he probably had the Coolguy vibe. Still a bit of a rowdy idiot and a showoff, but I think he probably came across to most people as a very friendly, sincere, and popular guy.

So yeah, the girls probably were all over him, at least for a short while.

#persona 5 #ryuji sakamoto #character analysis #LONGASS POST SORRY #I JUST REALLY LIKE HIM AND WANTED TO THINK MY THOUGHTS FOR A WHILE #pita.txt

280 notes · View notes

snuggleboots · 11 months

Text

Akatsuki parents? Akatsuki parents.

because I like shoehorning my experiences into my ninja bullshit. Hope y'all enjoy my rambling. : )

Feat. Hidan, Kakuzu, Kisame, Itachi.

Hidan ends up a girl-dad, and a proud one at that, given your daughter is a complete fucking gremlin, just like him. An aggressive toddler that looks like a tiny little sweetheart, with chubby cheeks, gorgeous violet eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you'd ever seen, and hair that looks like a carbon copy of your own. Her little smiles are a mixed bag, and you never know whether to expect cute baby affection or chaos that no toddler her size should realistically be capable of bringing into existence.

Nobody expects it when she toddles on up, all tiny, squishy hands and 'awwww, hug?'s, only to turn on a dime and start biting, smacking, or pinching- all while wearing a huge grin that she must have inherited from her dad, or giggling like a squeaky hinge. Babysitters do not last, Hidan finds absolutely nothing more hilarious than seeing another one leave haggard and never pick up jobs from either of you again.

She's a natural climber, knows no fear, and loves nothing more than climbing up onto the back of the couch and waiting. 'Oh no, 'M stuck!' is a goddamn trap. It took a couple pint-sized ambushes, wherein she lunges, catches some serious air, and rams into you or Hidan at full force to learn that lesson. Your natural state becomes STRESSED. Hidan, on the other hand? Constantly entertained. That little girl can do literally no wrong, because, shit, she's just emulating her dad, obviously.

If it's possible for a toddler to be sarcastic, she is, and it's only ever when she's using her manners. One tiny little eyebrow cocked, a crooked smile and cooed, 'Oh, nooo. So-orry!' Hidan has literally cried from laughing so hard, until she turned it on him. One big, angry bitemark on his forearm later, and those tittering giggles and 'Uh-oh, you o'tay? Uh-oh!' felt just a little more irritating than when they were directed towards you. He's even less impressed when you're laughing right alongside your little devil-child.

Older kids tried, once, to pick on the little girl who laughed too loud and played too hard. Unfortunately for them, she's always had a set of lungs and knew damn well how to use them. One blood-chilling shriek- not because she's hurt, but because she knew he'd hear, and haha, there's dad. Big, fat crocodile tears, a quivering pout and squeaky, 'Oh, no!' and it was game on.

Hidan doesn't give a fuck how old a snot-nosed shithead might be, his bullying is indiscriminate and he's had far longer to refine his insults than they have. She's rarely bullied, because word spreads and it's hard for a kid to bounce back from such heated and targeted shit-talk, even harder to bounce back when they watch some whooping, laughing maniac beat the shit out of their dad for trying to step in. You were only slightly surprised, and a little concerned when your little gremlin laughed and squealed over the playground dad on dad beatdown.

Deidara drops by from time to time, and he seems to have as much fun wrangling your tiny little hellion as Hidan does. He doesn't mind the fact that she can be aggressively playful, and takes absolute delight in the way her eyes go wide and shine with awe when he shows off his art. She's fascinated by his hair, and you find some remarkable moments of quiet and peace when she's perched on the couch with him on the floor, her chubby fingers toying with and carding through the golden mane that's somehow smoother and shinier than silk. If he minds the fact that she essentially pets him like a cat, he certainly doesn't mention it. 'Awww! So sof', so sof'.' Between Deidara and Hidan's high energy capacity for mischief, his visits always end up with your daughter properly knackered, and mercifully tame for the rest of the day.

Kakuzu didn't want kids the same way a dad doesn't want the dog his kids inevitably end up bringing home. You two ended up with a daughter, and at some point, somehow, someway, he became begrudgingly attached and takes over everything surrounding that little baby. Maybe it was the fact that when he looks into her eyes, he sees a soft, sweet mirror of his own, moss-green eyes that haven't yet seen the horrors of the world and the awful things that wait within it. Either way, the most miniscule part of him that can still feel love does, and every ounce of it belongs to her. You have your share, but you know that his daughter put the moon and the stars in his sky again.

Your full-time job becomes raising her, the little lady that sees the world with his eyes and speaks remarkably well for a tiny toddler her age. There's not a snowball's chance in hell that he'd trust some random to watch over his girl. You're just lucky that she's an honest delight to raise, although that might be your own bias talking. Kakuzu does a lot of reading with her, and it's almost comical to see a man like him drawling and grumbling through a ten-paged book about a little pig's wild adventures in kindness.

When Kakuzu's balancing books in the evening and she can't sleep, she always seems to find her way to the kitchen table where the old bounty hunter is pouring over expenses and budgets. Tiny fingers count on an abacus while he counts stacks of green, and when he loses count because she's quietly chatting away to the walls and the table and his ears when they listen, he can't even find it in himself to be upset. Not when those pretty eyes turn their gaze to him and she bids her sweet 'uh oh, sorry papa'. For all his power, he can be weak in those moments that make his heart just a little happier.

Innocent, and unacquainted with the temper that almost defines him as a man, she isn't afraid of him, she isn't afraid of him, she isn't afraid of him. Never had she, nor will she ever bear witness to the ugly, vicious face of his short-fuse and hellfire wrath.

That sweet little girl is spoiled, and that's only because she never seems to ask for anything herself. So polite, for one so small. When little green eyes sparkle because they fell upon a pretty dress, a toy, a book that has her oohing and ahhing, a little cup that has a straw 'oh, wow!' and a cute little pig printed on the plastic 'ohh! a piggy! haha, oink oink!' - who is he to turn his head and leave it at that?

She could ask for the moon, and it would be all he could do to bid a slow, pensive nod and murmured assurance, 'It only sits in the sky for you.'

Hidan is a frequent and uninvited visitor, and while normally you'd find that to be cause for concern it's quickly proven pointless to worry given the fact that if Kakuzu isn't grouching him under control, your daughter has a hilarious talent for putting him in his place. Seeing the zealot sat on your couch, being prodded and chided by a girl less than half his size is certainly a sight to behold; hearing her tut and chastise him in a way she must have learned from her dad for putting his feet on the coffee table, shoes on the couch, or his drink on the side table without a coaster is absolutely hysterical. 'Stains are 'spensive! Feet down!'

Kakuzu's sweet little mini-me: breathes

Kakuzu:

Kisame takes on the dad role like he was born for it, after a small period of adjustment. You two end up having a boy and a girl, and he's practically putty in their little hands. Your boy is huge, had been since he was a baby - which is natural, Hoshigaki kids are just... big, generally. Your girl caught both of you off guard, only because she's so tiny. The sibling dynamic is chaos, but a warm one that always seems to leave Kisame cackling or grinning over something ridiculous those two end up getting into.

Your boy is like a walking clone of his dad, and even as a little boy he's already standing as tall as your ribs. Slate-blue hair as soft as cornsilk, teeth that make you grateful he was never a biter, and little gills bracketing his throat. Soft-spoken, a little shy outside of his parents, and constantly looking to wrestle and play. If you're doing something, he's a guaranteed little helper - he likes to help with cooking when you let him. If his baby sister is getting into trouble, he's either helping her do it to make sure she's safe, or he's the one carrying a kicking, griping toddler to one of you two to handle. Yeah, he's a bit of a narc- but it's always for a good cause. He's a fretful big brother.

Your girl is probably the most precious little baby you'd ever met, and Kisame is quite literally helpless against her doe-eyes and deceptively sweet, cheery little voice. Where her brother is quiet, she is loud; where he's happier to follow the rules and keep out of trouble, she's a born rule-breaker that finds boundaries just to test them. When you stumble upon her in the midst of some suspiciously quiet, pint-sized anarchy, she always manages to look surprised that you ever caught her in the first place. She looks like you, if you were knee-height and sporting tiny little daggers for teeth and gills on your cheekbones. Kisame blames you entirely for her gremlin personality.

Kisame does not discipline unless he needs to, because he feels awful when big, sweet baby eyes look at him with complete betrayal that he dared to tell them no, or stop them from pulling off some kind of crazy baby scheme that would make your hair grey from stress. Quivering pouts or teary eyes and he's gotta tap out.

Babysitters adore your kids when they behave, but Kisame vets any you hire thoroughly because he's more than a little protective of his babes. It's like they're each a half of his heart living outside his body and he honestly struggles to manage the overwhelming love and affection they pump into his veins every day. He could, and gladly would break fingers over something as minute as hurt feelings.

You hold the sole rights to discipline outside the house, too. If either of your ankle-biters act out their mischief in public, and someone tries to step up and throw in their two cents, Kisame's massive silhouette and mean, sawtooth grin are very effective deterrents.

Itachi is a semi-frequent visitor, and both of your children love him fiercely. You're half-convinced that he has some kind of Uchiha magnetism, given the fact that he'd won over not one, but three Hoshigaki by the sheer power of his quiet, soothing presence. Kisame takes great amusement in watching your little lady climb all over the poor man, and your son sidle up beside him with his favourite book to chat his ear off about the adventures that lay within it. Itachi, to his credit, never ever seems to mind the undivided attention of the lively gilled babes.

Kisame, and his pint-sized sidekick: getting into Hoshigaki-brand bullshit

You, with your sweet little chore buddy: > : ( no- one hundred times, no!

Kisame, and his tiny co-maker of mayhem: betrayed, bamboozled, and somehow? positively shocked that you found out

Itachi slips seamlessly into a domestic role, despite how long he'd been absent from one. Childrearing almost seems like his god-given purpose in life once he actually sets himself to it, and the second you two brought home your cooing, burbling baby it was on. He's happy, grateful to stay home and take care of your son, tend to the home and make your transition back to work as smooth of a process as possible.

It's an all-too common scene to come home and find the Uchiha at task in the kitchen, tending to a meal simmering on the stove while your squishy, pudgy-cheeked and sleepy eyed boy perched on his hip with a tenderness that makes your heart hurt. Even as a clumsy little toddler, he's never found very far from his dad. If Itachi is cleaning, there's his little mini-me, trying to help and earning gentle encouragement and a soft, fond smile for his efforts.

Honestly, your little guy is the most well-mannered, well-adjusted, well-spoken toddler you've ever met. He genuinely likes to help, to the point that it sometimes becomes a problem because he's very determined when there's any little problem set out in front of him. At the park, playing with other little babes, he's more concerned with making sure everyone's playing fair and playing safe than he is about actually having any fun himself. He's a bit of a worrywart for someone his age, and half the time it feels like he's the self-appointed tiny guardian of his friend group. Someone trips and skins a knee? 'Are you okay? We can sit down for a little. It's okay.' A born father, is your Itachi.

Who, for a man so reserved and soft-spoken, is hellbent on making sure his son has the most peaceful, memorable childhood he can possibly offer. Not a day is wasted in your household, even a lazy day is an opportunity to make memories and spend some honest, quality time with the people he loves most. You three can cook meals together, with your boy set to work at taste-testing and mixing ingredients under the quiet, watchful eye of his dad. He never wants for encouragement, love, affection, or little things that catch his eye; it would be wrong to call him spoiled, because he isn't, but there is little he wants that he doesn't receive.

Your secondary job is bullying Itachi into taking a day to relax and unwind, because although your son is essentially the perfect child, it's still a lot of work to raise him. Even when you're the primary parent on those days off, he's never far away, and always finding sneaky ways to slip back into dad-mode rather than actually relax. Half the time it takes you putting your son on the job of wrangling his dad just to make the man sit down, crack open a book and let himself just be. That typically entails your little boy gently chiding his father in a way you're certain he learned from the Uchiha himself- and god, it makes your heart melt. 'No, no. Gotta have your tea, it's gonna get cold', 'Sit, sit, sit. Sometimes we need to sit, papa. Gotta rest!'

Kisame loves to visit, he makes that fact no secret. For a man so massive, so intimidating, he handles your boy like glass- as if he's afraid a little rough play might break him. And your son, always as sweet as he is smart, adores the company. His questions know no limits, and he's a clever little babe about getting answers without actually asking questions. 'Can we go swimming? You must swim fast- can you swim under water? I can hold my breath longer than you can.' You once got to watch the boy perched at the end of a dock for half an hour, holding a staring contest with the swordsman who'd been stubbornly sat at the bottom of the lake's shallows for at least half an hour. That thoroughly entertained grin on the swordsman's face when he flared his gills told you he knew what exactly your boy was so curious about when he'd challenged him in the first place.

#kakuzu #hidan #kisame #itachi #naruto scenarios #naruto imagines #kakuzu x reader #kisame x reader #hidan x reader #naruto x reader #itachi x reader #i'm sorry but kakuzu as a dad specifically is my favourite #kisame as a dad and/or an uncle is ALSO my favourite i can't help it #kisame hoshigaki #itachi uchiha #kisame hates hiring babysitters and has no shame in offering to call itachi - you try to persuade him not to because itachi's a busy guy #kisame doesn't even have the courtesy to look sheepish when he tells you he'd already called him over to watch the kids for the night #'he's practically their uncle- sweetheart he LIKES watching 'em. it's fine! it's really fine!'#househusband itachi who brings his son along when it's time to go babysit the hoshigaki babes #'is it really work if it's essentially a playdate?' 'yes - and i'd like to pay for the trouble' 'you consider your children trouble?'#'...shut up and TAKE my MONEY PLEASE'

338 notes · View notes

tired-biscuit · 1 year

Note

I just saw your drabble about kiba’s family smelling the fuck on you……what about baby fever Kiba that can smell you ovulating and you don’t know what’s gotten into him

the way you got me kicking my feet into the air with this ask, omg!! <3

18+ mdni, fem!reader / cw: breeding

i think he'd have the urge to breed you and knock you up pretty early in the relationship, like right from the very start. better yet, even if you're nothing but friends and he secretly fancies you, he's still thinking about it, considering it even, because he can smell whenever you're in your "child bearing prime" whether he wants to or not, and it's literally driving him fucking insane.

but being the respectful man that he is, bless him and his mother, he knows that it's not usually the way these things go; that social norms say that partners should probably get to know each other a little bit better and grow closer before starting families.

so he takes it down a notch when you become his girlfriend. of course he does.

i mean, he doesn't want to scare you away by forcing you to get so serious with him so soon, so what else can he do than tuck away that animalistic side of him - the one that's a pretty common trait to have in his clan - and say that he's completely fine with going super slow, that he's a-okay with using protection? hell, he even goes as far as to pretend that the sweet change in your scent which your ovulation causes doesn't faze him every month, even if it makes his goddamn skin feel like it's on fire.

and sure, he enjoys getting to know you better, settling down with you slowly and taking it easy, but the urge to fuck his kids into you just won't go away. it grows peskier and peskier with each passing week, month, year. it's in his blood after all, he can't possibly do anything about it; it's just the way he's programmed.

so i think - despite the precautions - he'd sort of loosen up and start hinting at it pretty early, after like a year or so. it'd start off innocent enough, like he'd just be talking about your future and stuff like that. but then your cycle comes to the ovulation part again, and all of a sudden he doesn't mind showing how it affects him as well. how clingy it makes him. how touchy he gets during it. how needy.

he follows you around the house during those days and constantly keeps you close. fucks you way more often. develops a daddy kink (or finally allows you to see it, who knows) and makes sex last longer; his dick buried so deep inside of you that you feel like you're going to fucking burst because of the mating press he insists holding you in despite that you aren't even mating technically (sadly) because of the condom that you make him wear.

he does admit at some point that the scent attracts him after you start questioning his sudden change in behaviour. he even tells you that he's grown so comfortable around you by now that he can't bother to hide it anymore. and well, it makes sense for him and his abilities, so you're not all that surprised when he's brushing against you in the kitchen when you're all hormonal once again next month; feeling his hands as he slowly drags them up and down your sides, while the bulge in his sweatpants presses against your ass in a way that makes heat pool between your legs.

however, something is different this time around. he doesn't stop tugging at your leggings when you remind him that he should go grab a rubber if he plans to fuck you on the kitchen counter. no, instead of running to the bedroom like he normally does, he just pushes his hips further into your own, and tells you that perhaps he wants to fuck you right here and now. that he's positive that you'd like it; that he knows you oh, just so well.

"c'mon," he says. "what's a lil' risk, mm?"

and you giggle at that, a faint blush searing your face because you think he's just joking, that he's just messing around with you like he has a habit of doing, but he still isn't moving. he just rests his chin against your shoulder, his sensitive nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, as he sighs and tells you again how good you smell right at that moment. how sweet the scent is. how appealing it is.

and then one thing leads to another because you're hormonal and needy too, even more than he is if that is even possible. your panties are literally constantly soaked and your poor pussy needs to be taken care of, he knows it, so it's not even shocking that he manages to bend you over the counter and fuck the shit out of you completely raw as your toes curl in your little fuzzy socks and your eyes squeeze shut because of the realisation; because of the risk.

so you tell him, through broken moans and quick gasps, that he's not allowed to cum inside and that this is the only time you're risking it like this. and he agrees. he pulls out the last second - hesitantly, yes, but he does - and cums on your lower back instead, trying to ignore the way he felt your tight hole fluttering with intention to milk him dry.

and that's that.

well, for the most part.

because ever since then, you're getting raw-dogged every other night and are literally begging him to fill you up during your dazed state, because, well, it feels so good. because it's so fucking good and rewarding to see him be so into it; to be so into you. he's been passionate before, but this is on an entirely different level.

he's literally whispering the dirtiest shit into your ear as he breeds you, all focused and with eyes so fierce that they could burn holes through you. is telling you how good your pussy feels when it's soaking wet like this, that he can smell how urgently it needs him, and that he's just so fucking happy that he gets to experience it entirely at long last.

he's even calling you his pretty mate, how proud he is of you, how you're such a good girl for being willing to take his load, how he wants you to make him a daddy and to let him fill you up over and over again, until you're leaking his cum and are pregnant with his babies because he wants you, and he wants to have a family with you, and he just wants and wants and wants.

he's been wanting for all this time. a year and a couple of months of waiting may not seem like a long time for some, but for a man like him, it could have been considered as absolute torture.

so you suppose it's understandable why he turns sort of delirious when he at long last gets to fuck your pretty little cunt completely raw and spill everything he's got right into it. right to the very last drop, he'll even bend your legs flush against your chest just so that he can make sure his seed sticks.

it's just pure instinct. it's who he is.

and it makes him simply overjoyed that you finally understand.

#kiba x reader #kiba smut #naruto smut #biscuit drabbles #everybody say thank u anon <3

667 notes · View notes

darlingmbappe · 1 year

Text

Oh, Baby | Kylian Mbappé x Fem reader

Summary: When the condom breaks, it’s a race to get you a Plan B. In the meantime, Kylian gets to thinking about your future together.

Warnings: Mentions of sex and nudity, broken condom, potential pregnancy scare, taking contraception, cussing, google translated French, English is not my first language. Let me know if I missed anything.

Note: I posted this on my old account before I restarted with this one. I didn’t have any other ones there so I just decided to repost this one here! :)

Kylian lazily kissed your neck, his weight now engulfing you, the synchronization of your panting turning into giggles.

“Tu es incroyable.” You’re incredible, he mumbled, his member softening inside you. You smiled sheepishly just thinking about how roughly he took you just now. He praised and used you so perfectly, and now he pressed loving smooches across your face, smiling against your lips when he felt yours curl up. “Je t'aime.” I love you.

It seemed hilarious now thinking about how hard you tried to talk yourself out of dating this man when you first met him two years ago. Thinking about your life without him seemed so wrong and depressing, it was almost impossible to do.

“I love you, too.” You whispered against his lips.

He grunted lowly as he lifted his body off you a bit to pull out of you, but his face turned from love stricken to panic in half a second. “Merde…”

“What? What happened?”

He rolled off of you and looked down, you followed his gaze as well. Now, your face matched his.

Oh, fuck.

The condom had ripped. It only held onto him by the bottom seam, the rest is a goddamn mess.

“How…” you gulped, “how did that even happen?” Both of you were aware that you weren’t on birth control. You tried it at the beginning of the relationship but it lowered your sex drive so much amongst other tricky side effects, it seemed unnecessary having so many other options for safe sex.

“I don’t know, chérie.” He huffed, taking it off and running to the bathroom. “Fuck…”

You quickly follow, putting on a T-shirt that was on the floor. Kylian had his hands on top of his head and began pacing, clearly stressed about what had just happened.

“Hey,” you put a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart through his skin, “it’s okay, bébé. I’ll just go get a plan B. It’ll be fine, alright?”

He looks at you and nods, letting out an exasperated huff. “Yeah. Of course. It’ll be fine.” He takes the bait, rubbing your arms, kissing your forehead, but not sounding too convinced.

Neither of you were ready for a kid. His career was in full speed. He had commitments constantly and barley found enough time to spend with you. Juggling all of this seems unhealthy for a young couple, but in this relationship, that worked. You moved to Paris to kickstart your own career, and now, you were finally on the come up. Both of you had a good rhythm going and understood how important your respective jobs were. Add a baby to this mix? The whole system is fucked.

You hopped in the shower as Kylian called his personal assistant to get you the pill and bring it to his home. As soon as he hung up, he opened the shower door, hopping in without even asking. His arms snaked around your waist, holding you close as his head rested against your neck, the hot water battering your back. The stress radiated off of him like steam. It was like you could hear his mind whirling.

“You just raw-dogged me, Mbappé.” You giggled, trying to lighten the mood. He looked up, sneering at your with a grin he couldn’t hold back, shaking his head at your vulgarness. You took his face in your hands, kissing his pouty lips. “Look, the pill is, like, 99% effective, or something. We don’t need a mini Kylian running around. Lord knows that thing would be a kicker, too.”

He smiled sweetly. “That’s what I’m worried about. Knowing my genes, my sperm is the fastest sperm on earth. What if you’re already pregnant?” You laughed at his cocky comment, letting go of his grip and grabbing your loofah, but not before jutting out your stomach and rubbing it like you were with child.

“I think your right.” You joked. He stared at you in admiration, loving that you were making light of the situation. One of you had to think rationally. “I feel a little Ninja Turtle forming already.”

After the shower, you both got dressed comfortably, lying back in bed and turning a movie on. Kylian cuddled at your side — his head on your chest, his hand on your stomach tracing patterns under your shirt periodically.

Eventually before you dozed off, you heard a knock on the door. You shot up, not having a chance to feel bad about shoving Kylian off of you and made your way to the door. His assistant smiled and handed you a brown paper bag. With a quick and genuine ‘thank you’, you make your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Kylan lingered behind you, leaning against the countertop. “Is that it?” He took the bag from your hand, opening it up and pulling out the individually packaged pill.

“Yep.” You reached over him to grab a glass, then turned to read the back of the package along with him. “Look,” you point to the small print, “Efficace à 97% si pris dans les 72 heures suivant la fin.” You read out loud. 97% effective if taken within 72 hours of conception. “See? We’re gonna be okay.”

Kylian was quiet as he looked at the words written on the flimsey cardboard. You pour yourself some water, filling his glass too, and take the package from his hands, opening it and putting the pill in the palm of your hand. Just as you were about to put the pill in your mouth–

“Wait!” Kylian grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“What?”

“What if… you don’t take it?” He cheekily asks, bringing himself closer to you.

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Then I might get pregnant? That’s kinda the whole point of–”

“No, no. I know. But, what if you don’t take it?” He asks again, now placing both his hands on your hips, hugging you loosely.

“Are you trying to suggest that we have a baby right now, Ky?” You ask gently, but your tone full of surprise. He shrugs, a smile making his way full force across his face. “I don’t get it. You were just freaking out about the broken condom.”

He shrugs again, rubbing your hipbones with his thumbs “I’ve been thinking about it…”

“…for, like, thirty minutes…”

“More like forty five.” You roll your eyes at his correction, but let him continue. “(Y/N). I love you, so, so, so much. I want a life with you. A full life — one that has a little-mini-version of the both of us running around. We could be a family. I mean, we have so much room in this house, we’re financially stable, we’re so in love with each other. It’s perfect. Maybe it’s a sign. We could start the rest of our lives today.” He sensed your apprehensiveness. “If you want to get married first, and all… we can do that. I know it’s probably not how you planned it but, it’s definitely not how I did either. Why don’t we just see if anything happens?”

Your heart melted with his words and the way he was looking at you. “Kylian… I don’t know. It takes a lot more than just a little bit of thinking for a decision this big. I mean… it’s a baby. An entire baby.” You reason, setting down ur glass of water and hugging him back, making sure your words came out gently. “These things cry and barf and scream and shit their pants daily…” He chuckled. “And then they grow up and start sticking their fingers in electrical sockets… and then they grow up even more and get all, you know, angsty, and… not to mention that we’d have to put our careers on hold for a while. And we don’t even live together yet. You really think we’re ready to have a baby together?”

“Then move in with me.” He blurts, ignoring the rest of your reasons. Your eyes widen, opening your mouth and shutting it quickly. “I’m serious, chérie. Come live with me here. You basically do already.”

His eyes were twinkling with love, and you look right back at him with the same expression. “Kylian,” you chuckle excitedly, tightening your grip on his stomach a bit. “You’re not just asking me because you think I’m pregnant right now, right?

“Non, non, of course not, bébé. I’ve been wanting to ask for a while.” He begins swaying both your bodies back and forth slightly, clasping his hands behind your back.

They way you’re looking up at him makes him swoon. “You also kind of just proposed to me.” He laughs at himself, hiding his face in your shoulder. He tends to get carried away, only sometimes. When he decided on spontaneity, he goes all or nothing. “But…” You move so his blushing face looks back at yours, “Okay.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Okay?”

“Yes, okay.” You smile big, just like him. “Yeah… to the moving in thing.” You specify, reaching up and kissing him. “How about we just start there. We have so much time to figure out the rest.”

He nods, giddy like the day you agreed to be his girlfriend. “We have the rest of our lives.” He kisses you once more before you let go of him, grabbing your water.

His face, while smiling, seemed a little disappointed. You know Kylian would never make this decision for you but you were happy to have this conversation. You’d talked about a future together before, sure. But, this one felt very real, not like some distant thing that eventually you’d get serious about.

“I love you so much, Mbappé. You know that, don’t you?” You stared at his features, your heart skipping at the man in front of you.

He hums sweetly in response, watching you down the pill.

“What happens if we’re the 3%?” He asked, taking your empty glass and setting in the sink for you.

“What do you mean?”

“It said 97%…” He leans in once more, getting close to your face and putting his warm hands on your stomach. “I feel like my sperm has a chance.” You roll your eyes as his hands travel down and back to grab two handfuls of your ass, squeezing suggestively. “We’d make the cutest babies.”

“Mhm,” you nod in agreement, wrapping your arms around his neck. You two would make really adorable babies. “Why don’t we go get more practice making one… or test out the rest of the condoms for any holes… Cant be too safe, now, can we?”

He squeezes your ass again, shuffling you back out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

973 notes · View notes

somnambulic-thing · 1 year

Text

Agents of Chaos

for @bettyfrommars : be careful what you wish for <3

1k - Wayne & Eddie/afab!reader (could be platonic too, you decide) | just silly cute shit including raccoons.

not proofread, so probably messy but made with love

----

Wayne Munson liked to think of himself as a tolerant man.

Even before he adopted his nephew one of his ways to live by had been Live and let live but living with Eddie had been an adjustment. The boy constantly reminded him to keep an open mind to everything and anything as long as it wasn’t hurting others, no matter how wild and bizarre it seemed on first glance but today Wayne had his difficulties going out of his comfort zone.

“Eddie!” he called, the handle of the trailer door still clutched in hand, his posture frozen upon entry.

Eddie’s door was closed and there was music blasting behind it, so rationally, Wayne knew that calling out for the kid was useless to begin with but he rather got the urge to yell out of the way before he actually faced his nephew. “Goddamnitjesuschrist, EDDIE!”

There on Wayne’s living room floor were two raccoons eating cereal straight out of the box. There was a - gladly - short trail of destruction behind them from where - so Wayne deducted - they had entered through the open window.

But Wayne wasn’t simply finding himself in a situation where his kid left open the kitchen window and accidentally invited some critters in for some Fruit Loops - no no no, not his boy, not his Eddie - because the damn raccoons were wearing goddamned small custom-tailored-denim vests. With small patches.

For a second, Wayne - who always has had an open mind for the supernatural too - stopped before he went to shoo the raccoons out of his house because they did look an awful lot like Eddie and his fellow agent of chaos.

It took him some time to escort the unusual guests out of the trailer and their little puzzled faces when he finally closed the door on them stung him in the chest a little; they were still wearing those silly vests and it wasn’t beneath him to admit that it was a little sweet.

Wayne sidestepped the chaos, closed the window on his way to Eddie’s room and knocked hard enough to make his knuckles sting to be heard over the screeching of guitars. “EDDIE?” he knocked again and the music dipped down to a murmur.

‘You heard that?”

‘Heard what?’

“Heard ya uncle knocking at the door!”

‘Oh, shit… COME IN!’

Wayne braced himself, took a deep breath and— still wasn’t prepared for the scene he stepped into.

“Hey, old man,” Eddie grinned, sitting on his floor, a sleeping raccoon in his lap, cutting out pieces for another little vest from an already pretty shredded denim jacket.

“Hi, Wayne,” you said, lying on your stomach on Eddie’s bed, not even looking up at him because you were so engrossed in hand painting a small patch that - Wayne had no doubt - would go on that vest once it was finished.

Wayne rubbed his face with both of his palms hard enough to make his teeth dig into his cheeks and groaned.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

“Uhhm,” Eddie started in his isn’t that obvious-voice, “we’re supplying the neighbourhood fauna with bad-ass merchandise?”

“You’re—“

“Made by hand, with black hearts and from recycled locally sourced materials,” you added, looking up at Wayne at last after sharing a conspiratorial grin with Eddie.

Wayne blinked a few times and put his hands on his hips. “And why are you doing— that?”

Eddie and you shrugged in unison before you suggested: “Supply and demand?”

“And it’s pretty adorable,” Eddie added.

“How much demand can there possibly be for raccoon-vests in the first place?”

“So far,” Eddie said and looked at a notepad next to him, “we had three customers!”

“And have a waiting list of five.”

“No!” Wayne said, shaking his head and waving a finger. “You don’t bring any more raccoons into my house! Do you hear me?”

“But—,” you tried to argue.

“No!”

“We still have—“ Eddie started.

“I said: no!”

It was like Wayne was talking to two eleven-year-olds all over again instead of two Seniors who were about to graduate in a few months. He asked himself if this wasn’t another case of derailed economics homework.

“And may we know why you’re shutting down a flourishing business?”

“Eddie, stop the act now. There were two raccoons looting our kitchen when I came in just now and we won’t be able to leave a damn window cracked when you keep pampering those critters!”

“Shit…”

“We didn’t mean to…”

“Sorry, Uncle Wayne…”

“T’ was just a little fun…”

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to…”

Wayne lifted his hands and the murmuring stopped. “I know, I know… you two get carried away like that, just… no more wild animals in the house! Do you two copy?”

“Loud and clear…”

“Affirmative, Wayne, soooo affirmative…”

“Sorry again— did anything break?”

“We’ll replace it—“

Again, Wayne lifted his hands. “You owe me a box of fruit-loops and a mug.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and you buried your face in a pillow.

“They… broke a mug?”

“Nah,” Wayne grinned. “But I have to get something nice out of this mess, don’t I?”

And with that, Wayne started pulling the door close behind him, enjoying the quiet that followed. Then he remembered something and lurked back in, pointing at Eddie’s lap.

“You sure that’s not dead?”

“What?”

“You guys were blasting the whole trailer park when I got home.”

Eddie looked down at the motionless creature in his lap. “Yep, still breathing.”

“A connoisseur of the hard'n'heavy arts,” you giggled and it immediately spread to Eddie.

“Get that fellow out of here. Clean-up and replacing food afterwards.”

“Can’t we finish this last vest?” you pouted.

“No puppy eye’s this time, kid, I’m puttin’ my foot down,” and he slowly closed the door again.

‘Can we move the business to your place?’

‘Sure…. my mom works until nine…’

‘Can’t believe I have to wake Misses Snuggles now…’

Wayne shook his head and went to make some coffee when he met another well-dressed raccoon on the kitchen counter, chewing on some bread.

“Right,” he rolled his eyes, “three customers so far.”

It was an unusual morning to have, Wayne knew that; but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Wayne Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson & Raccoons #Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson #shortfic #my fic

354 notes · View notes

sunsents · 1 year

Text

neteyam sully hcs - how he teases you (M)

headcannons about Neteyam teasing little shit sully. I've been craving to write this because I just KNOW he's so annoying and smug when he wants to be.

➵ pairing: agedup!neteyam x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

➵ warnings: this gets spicy towards the end so be warned. also, neteyams annoying asf, so be warned again.

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

Neteyam has a knack for romantics. He's seen plenty of his parents' very public displays of affection that make the entire herd say "eewwww". At the ripe age of 37, Jake constantly pines over his wife and Neytiri is no better.

The fact that the married couple has enough kids to form a goddamn baseball team is enough proof on its own. (And yes, Jake is painfully aware of this fact and is itching to introduce the sport to the poor na'vi children.)

Neteyam also has a way with words. In fact, he's so good with them that he can wax poetic about your bowel movements and you'd swoon nonetheless.

"Neteyam, are you drunk?" you'd ask after a particularly rowdy festival.

"No, I'm a poet." he'd tell you, drunk off his ass.

Cue the guy saying whatever comes to mind and trying to make it sound beautiful. "Oh, ____, Why, _____. Every move of your unaware knife stabs my heart. Your hands drip rewards of the sweetest juices a man dare crave." when you’re literally trying to cut fruit, or some shit like this. (idk im no poet use your imagination.)

Worst of all, it works. This man is mighty aware of how embarrassed and shy you get when he intricately weaves words just so he can see you blush and swat at him. He takes pleasure in your angry little tone in some weird, fucked up way.

Which ends up with him developing a little...kink, if you will. He loves teasing. And in a condescending way too.

He used to consider himself good-natured - didn't take pleasure in the humiliation of others, surely. His parents' relationship should have taught him well. And it did...but he just can't stop teasing you.

Perhaps it was your strangled voice telling him to cut it out, or the tint of your cheeks complimenting you oh so delightfully. He adored your reactions and coaxing them out was such fun.

With this devilish smirk that could fluster anyone, (or so you'd tell yourself because you aren't weak...okay, maybe you are. but only for him.) he tells you how red you've become. He'd scissor his hands and squeeze your cheek between the two digits, "You're just so easy to mess with, my love."

This led to his teasing gaining an edge. And as he grew confident, he also got mean. His teases degraded you here and there but he was just so condescending; talking down at you as the prince of Omaticaya. Stuff like. “Oh, yawnetu. You’re always falling at my feet. Should I hold your hand?” when you trip and fall (because he made you trip and fall by looking extra good that day, and also ‘forgetting’ to put on pants. in your kelku, of course. or outside in the forest if you’re into that, you weirdo.)

“Look at you, getting that fruit all over your mouth. Can’t even eat properly without my help.” when you eat particularly messily.

“It’s cute that you think you can win these fights.” when you try to snap back.

When he takes things particularly far, you get angry. Because damn, he's just so annoying sometimes. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine the Olo’eyktan in training to be so smug and condescending. At first, he was all gentlemanly and teeth-rotting sweet. He’d encourage you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and be so freaking kind that it’d make you want to cry.

When your mate got too comfortable, however, things went down. "Can you pass me the f-

"Only if you kiss me,"

"At what point do you become mature?"

"When you kiss me,"

"God, I hate you."

"Your pussy wasn't exactly screaming I hate you Neteyam this morning, but maybe that's just me."

He’s still sweet, of course. This man has no bad bone in his body, it’s true. He loves you so much that he can’t help but poke fun at your antics, and makes sure you know it’s all fun and games. When it’s fun and game time though, he’s ruthless.

And he's so proud of himself too. Puffing out his chest smugly and prancing around, boasting his confidence. You just want to wipe that sly smirk off his face - but you can't. It falls on deaf ears when Neteyam jokingly personalizes a better-than-thou attitude

"Oh, do I annoy you?” he would ask you after watching you groan and roll your eyes. “Not more than usual,” you would tell him, and he would just smirk, striding towards you and pulling you into a fat kiss.

Of course, these shenanigans follow him into the bedroom.

Lo'ak is evidently more like Jake when it comes to teasing. But Neteyam? Eywa have mercy on your poor soul. He's a mix of Neytiri, Jake, and perhaps Tsu'tey combined. (he's alive, argue with the wall.) The epitome of pure sex and the reincarnation of Asmodeus himself.

His tone is sweet yet condescending, smoothly purring into your ear while making fun of how easy it was to make your cunt ache with needy desire.

He would demand you finger yourself right in front of his prying eyes, then coo at you when you couldn't cum no matter how hard you tried. It was pathetic really, how diligently your fingers worked on your poor clit. But to no avail.

Neteyam would feast on the view like it was his meal for the week. With blown-out eyes and feral flicks of his tail, he would tease you all the while. Stuff like, "Let's see those fingers work harder. Oh come on, now you're just messing with me. There's no way you think that's what it takes to make you cum.

"I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that.”

“Well, you should be concentrating on me instead,…maybe learn a few things.” he drawls, circling the head of his cock with a groan while imagining he’s rubbing your swollen clit.

And you'd try your best to remember how he made you cum. But no matter what, you just couldn't copy the way Neteyam spit on your clit to ease the ache or the way he strokes the nerves so gently with a finger. Only the clit, of course - because he's going to tease you, and teasing you involves edging the shit out of you until your eyes water and you can't help but beg.

The fact that you’re so accustomed to his fingers and cock was a little embarrassing. They had become proviso for you to cum.

"You can't make yourself cum? How pathetic. Did I fuck you too good that it made you incompetent, or do you just like me too much?"

Neteyam always basks in his torture. He'd watch your hips buck wildly while begging and crying for him to fuck you right. He'd just sit there with wide legs, palming his hard cock and squeezing his balls ever so slightly at your pained mewls. Arms spread, head thrown back, he'd just observe you with additional snarky comments if he felt like it.

"Come on, you can do it. Oh, you got it, yes, there we g-...oh. What a pity."

#neteyam fic #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam #avatar twow #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar au #neteyam headcanons

441 notes · View notes