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kombuuuu · 1 year

Note

HEYY!!! Can you maybe write a fic or small drabble where fem!reader wants hobie to hang upside down so they can ‘spider man kiss’.

(also i luv the way you write hobie :P)

Spider Kisses

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

“What’re you— oh!”

small thingyyyyy, added a little twist tho C:

—

“Hobie?” Your voice rang throughout the empty alleyway behind your apartment, light disappearing behind the building wall your lover was currently — decorating.

“Wh— Oh! [Name], babe, come look a’ this.”

You partner turned to you, currently hanging from a suspended pole connecting one building to another.

Webs wrapped around his ankles to keep him hanging upside-down. Left hand holding a green can of spray paint, and right holding a paint ridden cloth.

His shirt was riding up (down?) due to gravity, the small peak of skin covered in different paint streaks that matched the tones the wall was now bearing.

“what’re you doing up there?”

He shook the van again, spraying a little detail onto the mural, then wiping a line through the fresh paint to reveal the colour underneath.

“‘M paintin’, love.”

He turned to you, synthetic eyes wide and emoted.

“C’mere, come try.”

He shook the cloth in a ‘come hither’ motion, paint flecks landing on his shirt. You approached him happily, getting close to his mask-clad face.

“Don’ get too close t’ the fumes now, babe.” You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, turning back towards the art to get your first real look at it.

A low whistle came from behind you, “Nice view.”

“Shut it, bug.”

“Arachnid.”

“Whatever.”

You felt Hobie grab his web, releasing his ankles and dropping down by one arm. His feet hurting the ground with a small scuff.

Taking the first good look at his creation, you noticed how you were the centre of it. A dazzling smile with your features painted in a light you’d never known. He’d made you feel so beautiful.

The colours behind you complimented the shades of your hair and strokes of abstract making your features evermore admirable.

“Jesus, Hobie — this is gorgeous.”

“All you, babe.”

He crowded up behind you, letting his slender hands carter’s the skin along your waist and stomach. His muffled voice dropped low to your ear. “Like this, doll.” His right hand travelled up your arm, sliding over yours and disconnecting to wipe at the fresh paint.

His left hand stayed put against your abdomen, squeezing unconsciously. He handed you the cloth, watching your fingers wrap around the fabric and bringing his hand back to your upper arm, rubbing along your skin in a soothing matter.

“Now drag it along there, yeah? Right where it’s still wet.”

You snorted at the innuendo. Hobie scoffing at your childish thoughts and softly pinching your skin.

“Oh, grow up.”

You refocused, dragging your hand along the shade of purple and blue. Streaking them together and revealing the pink underneath.

“Good, you’re a natural at this point.”

You laughed lightly, turning your head towards his.

“It was one stroke, Hobes.”

He winked, a devilish smirk rising his smile lines. “All it takes wit’ you, ain’t it?”

“Oh my god, you’re crude.”

“Nah baby, ‘m honest ‘s all.”

You brought your hand back towards you looking up at the painting again. "Finishing touches."

You gave him a quick, curious "hmm?", before you felt the cloth leave your hands too fast for you to realise. The "thwip" of his webs alerting you of his methods — right as the sound registered in your head, he had shot another back onto the aforementioned pipe, and reached to swipe at the paint around your hair, melting it into you and making you stand out stark against the cohesive colours. "Looks good, dun' it babe?"

"Uhuh."

He spared you a glance, smiling under his mask at the distracted sound of your voice, when he caught you watching him, and not his painting — he could excuse it.

A thought had breached your head, one that had been popping up ever since you had gone to dimension 1806 with him.

—

"Hobie, I'm not a spider person! I can't leave!"

"But I made you a watch?" "

Yes— thank you, I love it. But also that's not the point."

"But the watch.."

"Fuck, fine. Whatever. Don't use that tone on me again."

"Say it's for science."

"Fuck science."

—

That day you had found something.. intriguing. A comic. With a rather interesting cover design. Spiderman — not yours — plastered on the front, upside down, with his mask folded up and kissing Mary Jane. It was probably the most romantic thing you'd ever seen. And now you had the chance.

"Baby."

Hobie stopped wiping the excess paint, giving you his full attention. "Yeah doll, what's 'e matter?"

"Can you— do the thing.. you were doing before?"

He gave you a quizzical look, eyes in his mask squinting. "Painting? I'm almost done, sweethear'. Now I just got'a wipe way the—,"

"No.. no, the uhh.. Thing."

"Babe, ya' gon' have ta' be a bit more specific."

"The— upside down thing."

He snorted. Still hanging from his left hand. "Wh— yeah? I can do it, but—,"

"Don't question my decisions, Hobes."

"God damn, sweethear', speak t' me like 'at more often."

You laughed just as he did, glee falling from your lips as you shifted closer to him. He twisted his body to raise his legs above himself, wrapping the webs around his ankles once more.

"Now what—"

You brought your hands up to his spandex covered cheeks, tracing the lines of his cheekbones under the soft skin of your fingers. Tracing your hands higher, you toyed with the lip of his mask. Exposing the skin of his neck and watching his Adams apple bob out of nerve. "Can I?"

"Whatever you want, Luv."

You rolled the mask just past his nose, hooking it over his bridge, surprising him. He opened his mouth to question why you hadn't taken the whole thing off, before your lips stopped him.

He melted into you, your hands stroking over his cheeks and chin.

It was awkward trying to find your position at first, but you both quickly adapted, his hands finding the belt loops of your jeans and tugging you closer to him. You smiled into the kiss and he followed, laughing about how this was the motive to your request.

Your lips disconnected and he grinned like a fool.

"Tha's why?"

"Oh, shut. It was romantic."

He chuckled again, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Never said otherwise, pretty thing."

—

phone still broken , just like my heart hastag KIILL ME BOW

that was sarcasm but YIPEEEE HOBIEEEE!!!!!

#hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie my beloved #spiderverse x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobart brown

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beautifulsenpai · 9 months

Text

I WILL NEVER LET YOU LEAVE ME - 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗑 𝗉𝗋𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

˚₊‧꒰ა chapter 1 - the start and all might ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

- cw | 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽, 𝗉𝗋𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗒, 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝟤𝟢)

- characters | 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗂 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗈𝗄𝗂, 𝗄𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖺𝗆𝗂, 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝖺 𝖺𝗂𝗓𝖺𝗐𝖺, 𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖺, 𝗏𝗅𝖺𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗍

- summary | (𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾), 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗉𝗋𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗂𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒. 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗈. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.

- male reader’s quirk | 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 - 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗄 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝗏𝖾𝗀𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝖾𝗍𝖼. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌.

(name) didn’t think it’d be this easy to adjust to being a new pro hero in japan. (name’s) outstanding quirk and good looks made him quickly rise to the top 10 heroes. all of this made him very nervous, he barely started, and he’s already at the top! how exciting! and such a young age to start as a pro hero, at age 20.

it was truly an honor to fight alongside other heroes, especially the heroes that he grew up watching fighting and saving japan from reckless villains. endeavor and all might was the biggest inspiration for him to be a hero, and now fighting alongside them was thrilling.

(name) was surprised how easily was to get along with the other heroes, especially with endeavor. they were super friendly! a little too friendly if you ask me! (name) didn’t think they were so affectionate from behind the camera. they would give out heartwarming compliments and suddenly would get touchy.

(name) didn’t mind it at first, they were his idols after all, but it started to get a bit unsettling. they would stare at (name) for too long, they would touch him inappropriately, some would be there near him when he didn’t want them to be, and would glare at anyone who would stare or would be too close to (name).

all of this was too much for (name), it was kind at first, but this was too much kindness. (name) thought if being a pro hero wasn’t as enjoyable as it sound, or looks to be. was all of this worth it to be a hero?

ೀ 🍨 ‧ ˚ 🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

“there you have it folks! (name) (last name), known as flower maiden has protected the civilians of (random district name) from a violent thief! such an amazing hero!”, a woman news reporter gushed with a hint of blush on her cheeks from watching the handsome hero capture a thug.

the thief hung upside down, trying to wiggle out of the grasp of (name’s) quirk. thick vines were securely wrapped around the thug’s buddy, who threw curses at the young hero. it fell deaf onto (name’s) ears as he dusted off the filth that plastered onto him. (name) glanced at his adoring fans, and adorable children who admire him deeply.

“he’s so awesome!”

“papa! mama! i want to be like him when i’m a hero!”

“he’s so beautiful!”

“he’s way out of my league..”

“such a goddess!”

those compliments made (name) feel giddy. he loves his devoted fans very much. he chuckled, his eyes closed, smiling widely as he waved at the crowd. imaginary arrows shot at their hearts as their faces turned bright red from his tender smile. there was a particular retired hero in the crowd, witnessing the whole show.

it was all might. he watched how (name) defeated the criminal with such ease. it made him fall in love with (name) even more. he scooted through the crowd, trying to get close to (name) as soon as possible. “(name)!”, all might call out in the crowd. (name) halted his movements as his smile faded away, he looked at the crowd, trying to find the source.

(name) smile quickly came back as his eyes lit up when he saw all might push through the crowd with a smile. it was heartbreaking when all might retired when (name) transformed into a hero, he couldn’t battle with one of his idols, but was happy, at least he was making one of his fellow colleagues proud.

“greetings all might!”, (name) laughed. all night came up to (name) very quickly, (name) didn’t even notice. suddenly, (name) eyes widen slightly and lets out a cute yelp as all might surprisingly lift (name) onto his shoulders.

it surprised (name) since all might wasn’t as strong anymore, and he was scrawny and physically weak. (name’s) rear sat on all might’s shoulder as his arm wrapped around (name’s) legs, making sure he wouldn’t accidentally slip out of his grasp.

all might face the crowd, still holding onto (name). all might do his iconic smile as his eyes were shut. the crowd went wild, fans were gushing at the sight of the heroes getting along. (name) didn’t mind as his eyes shut closed, and smiled warmly.

all might felt overjoyed as he get to touch (name). the crowd died down as some people wandered away from the area. the crook was apprehended by officers, and he was quickly taken away. much to all might’s dismay, he softly held onto (name’s) hips and gently set him down on his feet.

(name) appreciated the nice gesture. he hasn’t gotten used to pro heroes being close friends, with the soft touching of his peers, makes him feel happy. “so all might! to what do i owe the pleasure?”, (name) exclaimed with a smile afterward. all might’s face turned completely red from what he was going to ask him.

all might avoid (name’s) gaze while playing with his fingers. “w-well, young midoriya and i will be going out for l-lunch to celebrate his quirk training. maybe y-you’ll like to j-join us?”, all might stuttered, he cringed from hearing himself stutter like that.

(name) never heard all might stutter like that, he thought he sounded silly, resulting him to chuckle. “gosh, i would be honored but unfortunately, i have to get some work done in my agency! maybe next time!” (name) reassured, his eyes closed as he scratched his neck nervously. he would be delighted to have lunch with all might if he wasn’t so busy.

all might smile dropped as his eyes widened from shock, he was upset. this was his chance to get even closer to (name), even get him in bed but his stupid hero work was getting in the way. “i-i understand..”, all might mutter. “but let me at least drive you there!”, all might insist, his face flushed as his eyes lit up from thinking about dropping (name) off at his agency.

that sounded romantic to him! (name) blinked, head tipped to the side. his eyes shut as he thought about it, it’ll be nice since he wouldn’t have to walk to the agency. (name) smiled as his arm rested on his hip, “that’ll be nice!”, (name) beamed.

ೀ 🍨 ‧ ˚ 🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

the ride to the agency was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. (name) stared right out the window, watching the passing vehicles, and buildings while all might was driving the vehicles, not taking his eyes off the road. (name) gently closed his eyes as he sighed softly.

“god, you have no idea how amazing you are”, all might purred. (name) eyes shot open, he stared at the road ahead of him, what was all might talking about. “pardon me?”, (name) questioned.

“all i’m saying (name) is that you’re so intelligent, strong, and so adorable!” all might gush, his face blushing as he placed one of his hands on (name’s) thigh as the other was gripping onto the steering wheel. (name’s) eyes widened as he flinched. all might start rubbing up, and down on (name’s) thigh, (name) forced a smile while sweating bullets.

(name) started trembling, what was this man doing, and what was he saying? he was talking nonsense. why was he saying all of this now? was it that they were both alone together? whatever it is, (name) did not want all might’s hand caress touching.

“i-i don’t know what to say all might..”, (name) muttered as he continued to stare ahead, he did not know what to say, but all might did. “i love you so much (name), you have no idea to what limits i’d go to prove that to you”, he dreamily sighed as he hand slowly crept more upwards to (name’s) privates.

luckily, luck was on (name’s) side. he quickly hopped off the car when the car halted in front of (name’s) agency, and shut the door shut. (name’s eyes were still wide, he was fighting back tears, his brows drew together as his breathing was shaky and weak. he couldn’t believe what had happened.

as (name) was about to head inside his agency, he halted when he heard the passenger window roll down. “i’ll give you a call to schedule our lunch together!”, all might shout inside the car with excitement in his voice. (name) turned his head to the side, eyes shut, he forced another smile as he nodded.

“s-sure thing! i’ll be waiting!”, (name) stuttered nervously through his white teeth. all might smirk at (name’s) response, did (name) really mean that? did he? the passenger door’s window rolled up. (name) heard the car start, and the next thing you know, the car drove away into the busy streets, leaving (name) there in his own thoughts.

such a weird man..

the last part was rushed, sorry that it’s not good!

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neesieiumz · 1 year

Text

catharsis || ──────── s. aizawa

day five — SOMNOPHILIA / VOICE KINK / DADDY KINK

『 synopsis 』 after a long patrol, your husband comes with an ache only you can sate, only to find you deep in sleep

『 warnings 』 — 18+. sm*t. minors do not interact. husband!aizawa. pro-hero!reader. p*orn with very little plot. that's why it's shorter than my normal fics. established relationship. she is a natural disasters hero. and he has his normal job. somnophilia. voice kink. daddy kink. he is very much in love with you. like borderline obsessed with you. and vice-versa as well. female reader. black-coded reader but anyone can read. he calls you a slut but you enjoy it. sweet aftercare. was this self indulgent? i plead the fifth, how bout that?

『 writers notes 』 honestly feel like i overdid with the daddy kink but here we are! hope you enjoy it and you won't get a new ktober fic until next week tuesday! check the masterlist!

『 word count 』 3.0k

previous fic in ktober | masterlist | next fic in ktober

The night had fallen upon your home before you had known it, the twinkling stars gazing down at you, the full moon’s brightness fully mocking your somnolence. You could no longer stay up for him, no matter how much you tried. You had waited for long before sleep was beginning to overtake your body, and you knew this was another night you’d go without being able to see your husband.

Your husband was Eraserhead to the world, but at home, he was Shouta to you. Your Shouta. The two of you were heroes, after all, that was how the two of you met. You knew the long nights that came with the job, especially with him being a teacher as well.

Dressed in a thin two-piece set, in a pale baby blue, you lay on your bed, covered in your warm sheets, with nothing but the sounds of your automated fan blowing cool air into your room, combatting the heated summer night outside. With school out, and your husband only getting a reduced check from his main source of income, he had no choice but to join up in nightly patrols, his main specialty when it comes to hero work.

The two of you found each other while working patrols late at night, you being a new transfer from a faraway city on the outskirts of Japan, where natural disasters were then likely to occur.

“Eraserhead, what kind of name is that?” Your smile was wide, contagious even.

The two of you stood in an alleyway, with him hanging upside down from it, his eyes obscured by the bulky yellow goggles he constantly wore.

“Trust me, I was definitely not the one to make it.” His voice was deep and grave, it slightly echoed through the alley.

“That means whoever made the name must have been pretty special huh?”

It was silent for a moment, and for a moment, you thought you hit a nerve, anxiety rising within you.

“Yeah, I guess you can say they were.”

You gleaned up at him, seeing some semblance of a smile on his face. This caused your own smile to widen slightly, standing up straight.

Your marriage was a private one, one with family and friends only, a short, quiet, and intimate event. The two of you only had a week off for your honeymoon, during the time of which students were out for school to not mess with his schedule. The two of you are extremely busy, with his job as a hero course teacher and of course your own as a rescue and natural disasters hero. The two of you barely had time for each other, easily taking what you could with each other. You knew what came with dating and eventually marrying another hero, especially with someone like your Shouta.

You lay across the bed, sighing as you relaxed into the comfort of the comforters, onto the softness of the mattress. Closing your eyes, hoping to bring a new day, hopefully with your husband’s arms comfortably snug around your waist.

— — — —

You heard a squeak first.

Your eyes barely cracked open, still heavy with sleep, as the squeaking sound got louder and longer for a moment and then stopped altogether. You didn’t move, your heart racing and beating drums within your chest as the sound of muffled footsteps got closer and closer to your bed. You could hear ruffling, like clothes were being moved before the familiar fresh scent of mahogany and lavender, your body relaxing as you did so. You opened your eyes a little bit further, being able to see the clock on your bedside table, seeing the number 2:34 glowing from the digital clock. This was a first, you never woke up when he came home from patrols, you always found yourself being wrapped up in his arms when you woke up in the morning. You tried to find the confines of sleep, hoping to easily slip into it, knowing you’ll wake up in your husband’s arms once more.

Creaakkk…

His footsteps got closer and closer, his scent slowly gaining intensity as something within went off, like chilling tingles crawling up your spine. You could feel his eyes staring holes into you, possibly scanning your entire form wrapped up in your blankets. A familiar tingling sensation began to erupt and spread through you. It had been months since the last time he touched you, the two of you being completely swamped with work. Suddenly, the bedframe creaked, as you felt the mattress underneath you slightly dip. He was so close to you, his knee grazing up against your back, the blanket being the only thing that kept the two of you lightly touching. Droplets of water, possibly from his shower that he took when you were still deep in sleep, dripped down onto you, feeling the cool, wet spots from your blanket. You kept yourself as still as possible, sleep still dancing in your eyes. And then, all of a sudden, he crouched down, the bed creaking along as he did.

It took all your self-control not to gasp as you felt his erection pressing up against you. Even with the blanket, you could still feel it. You held back the slight gasp out a slight moan as he pushed his hip in between your bottom. He let out a hefty groan, his head falling right beside your own, his lips right next to your ear as he did. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, feeling yourself beginning to drip down your thighs and stain your thin shorts. All of your self-control was slipping piece by piece, your body aching and wanting for him. Your breathing became shaky, you know he could hear it, and yet he continued his actions. You could feel his lips slowly press up kisses along your cheek and jawline. His nose nestled itself in between your ear and your hairline that peeked from the night-time scarf you wore, before taking a deep breath in, taking your freshly washed scent, your body wash, as well as your nighttime hair products.

“You smell so good,” his voice wasn't strained, as if he was holding back as well.

“I missed you so much,” he spoke again, the bed creaking again as he moved, his hands beginning to move down, thumbing along the hemline of your shorts.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here as much, snowflake,” he mumbled in your ear, his hand now officially slipping down into your shorts.

His fingers slipped in between your legs, two of his fingers easily spreading your lips apart, cool air hitting your clit, causing your body to tremble ever so slightly. Your mouth is slightly agape, drool slowly dripping out of your mouth onto your pillow. His fingers easily spilled into the mess in between your legs, pressing up against your clit. Carefully, he massaged circles into you, every movement slow and deliberate, as if he didn’t want to wake you. He probably didn’t wake you up. You had just gotten home from aiding a beach town devastated by a hurricane, pulling people out from rubble, and creating emergency service tents.

“I know you just got back, but I…” he trailed off on his words as his fingers slipped further down, sliding in between your labia.

“I can’t hold myself back, fuck.”

Your husband sounded so pretty, his voice straining every syllable as his hips ground more and more into you. By now, your shorts were a mess, and your underwear soaked with your juices. No longer able to hold yourself back, you softly pushed your hips back against his fingers, and hard-on. He most definitely felt your movements, letting out a massive groan as his dick twitched underneath his boxers.

“Naughty girl, such a slut even in your sleep…” his chuckle echoed against your bedroom walls, as his fingers dipped in even further, one of them pressing into your hole.

“Everytime I have to stay away from you, whether it be my job, or your own job, I can feel myself descending into madness–” his words suddenly cut off with a guttural groan, his hips suddenly giving off a sharp thrust.

“I am obsessed with you, you know that right?”

Tears dripped down your eyes, staining your pillows as his words enchanted you, sending great shocks of ecstasy through you. You could feel yourself trembling, only aching for him more and more. His own boxers were sticky with pre-cum, you could feel it oozing onto your satin shorts, slowly mixing in with your own soaked juices. His hand slowly pulled themselves away from your cunt, the sudden loss of pleasure causing your emotions to deflate before feeling that very same hand pulling at the hem of your shorts. You kept as still as possible as his large hands pulled your shorts down around your ankles, revealing your wet pussy.

“Agh, fuck,” is all he could say as he suddenly sat up for a moment.

You could hear shuffling in the background, most likely him taking off his boxers, hearing some kind of fabric being thrown in the air and landing on the floor. You felt his hands back on you, before feeling the tip of cock press up against your cunt, slipping and sliding in between your lips, gathering some of your juices. With a final swipe, before you knew it, you felt him press the tip at your pussy, your body trembling as he began to push it.

“Baby, baby fuck–”

He pushed himself deeper into you, your eyes squeezed shut, your cunt throbbing around him.

“Missed you, missed you so fucking much,”

You had never heard him ramble like that, his usually deep gravelly voice seeped in desperation. His hands gripped at the meat of your thigh, holding your place as he rutted his hips into you. Your lips parted, and the entire area underneath them was drenched with sweat. Your hands tightly squeeze the comforter. The heat was overtaking you, a violent intensity grappling at you. Your thoughts that once ran wild soon became filled with one thought, Shouta. Everything about him was different, the way his voice hit your ears, each syllable easily ripping a new reaction out of you. It was only a matter of time before you lost control before he knew you were awake, feeling everything he was doing to you.

“My wife, my pretty wife,” he groaned, his hands moving up and about.

“How could I fucking stay away from you?”

With his strength, he moved you about with ease. You no longer lay at your side, but instead, your knees dug into the mattress, your stomach lying against the bed. He pressed his hand against your back, your back arching up against him. He never pulled his cock out of you, staying snug inside you as he positioned you to where he wanted you to be.

As soon as you were in position, he held no mercy towards you. Pounding away at you, like a man with nothing else to live for at that moment but to ravage you. Tears welled in your eyes as absolute euphoric pleasure took over you, it came as quick as lighting. With the sudden overload on your senses, your control over your actions snapped.

A moan slipped out of your lips, the sound causing him to falter for just a moment. With the wet sound of skin against skin, he leaned down once more, moving his long hair out of his face, finally allowing him to see the tears streaming down your face, your eyes slightly opened, rolled to the back of your head, mouth agape with spit dripping down.

One of Shouta’s hands stayed at your hips while the other suddenly reached down, wrapping around underneath your chin, pulling your body upwards with ease. Your hands propped you up as he pulled your head back, your eyes locking. The position allowed you to see just how frenzied your husband looked. His thick fat cock plunging mg into you, each movement only escalating him more and more.

“How long have you been awake sweetheart? Huh, liked what I was doing to you? Hmm?”

You tried to speak, but the only thing that could slip out of your mouth was pleas if you could even call it that.

“Daddy, Daddy-fuck, it’s too–fuck!” You screeched, gripping at the pillow as your eyes squeezed shut, overcome by the sudden frenzied thrusts your husband was sending your way.

“Dirty little slut, letting me think you were asleep ? How long were you awake for?”

For a moment, you couldn’t answer him, only focused on the effervescent volcano building up within you. All of a sudden, his thrusts slowed down, causing you to whine as you looked back at his teary eyes.

“I asked you, how long have you been awake?”

“Since the moment—ahh– you walked in! Since the moment, you walked in, please don’t stop fucking me, Daddy!”

Shouta suddenly pulled all the way out, your cunt only squeezing around the tip of his fat cock, before slamming it back into you, almost hitting and bruising your cervix. Both you and his own moans and groans echoed into the air, mixing together in a beautiful melody. His hand left your chin, your body flopping forward for a couple seconds before suddenly feeling your arms being jerked back. Your moans became scream-like as he grabbed at both of your wrists, suddenly pulling your arms back.

“Fuck,” he cursed, hissing as he pummeled into you, “so fucking tight–huh, you like the way I fuck you, huh?”

You could barely get any words out, shaking your head vigorously, clenching around him. Every plunge into your cunt devoured you, your husband’s moans and groans had your body trembling. His growls reverberated within your ears, only causing your body to curl in pleasure.

“I said,” he suddenly cut into your thoughts, your body jerking up even further, “you like the way I fuck you, slut”

“Yes, daddy!”

Shouta’s chuckle was deep, and his thrusts only overwhelmed you even further. You relished in the way your skin took the pain, feeling the bloom and sting tingle all over you. If you could blush, you knew the bottom of your thighs would be blooming red. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, your eyes rolling out the back of your head. All of a sudden, Shouta dropped your arms, your body flopping, back arching into the bed as his hands gripped at the flesh at your hips and butt. His thrusts became erratic in nature, his already broken-down composure crumbling even further. You could hear his breathy words, soaking in the neediness laced within them.

“Missed you so fucking much, my wife– my fucking wife.”

“Look so fucking pretty, so fucking senstive f’ me.”

“Missed this pretty fucking pussy, hate how much I have to leave you–fuck!”

Shouta’s body lurched, towering over your own. You could feel his sweat dripping down from his body, falling like light rain into your almost bareback, your thin night-top crumpled up at your bosom. Your hands crumpled up the blankets and sheets underneath you, the feeling of your tongue slightly grazing against the fabric. Your words soon dulled out, the only thing on your tongue was your monas and coherent words putting together the title you called him in bed. You could feel your cunt tightening up around him, like a ticking time bomb going off within you.

“Such a sweet fucking pussy– fuck–” his body suddenly lunched, the bruising grip he had on your hip tightening.

Your body convulsed, shaking in his hold as your mind went blank white, tears streaking out of your eyes as your climax ripped out of you, your juices spilling and ripping all over him.

“Daddy!—” your final words cut, your voice echoing against the white walls of your room.

With a final grunt, you felt your husband slump over, feeling his dick twitching inside of you, painting your walls white. Soon, the only thing you could hear was the sounds of your heavy breathing, both your and Shouta’s as well. You let out a whimper as you felt him pull out his cock out of you, leaving you with withdrawal. Without him letting go of your hips, your legs fully slumped onto the wet bed. With hands still around you, shrieking as he swept you up from the bed. You held onto him as your husband slowly got off the bed, turning your head to see him slip into your bedroom’s bathroom, using one hand to turn the light on. He placed you on the toilet, before walking to your sink. You couldn't help the soft smile that slowly appeared on your face as you heard the faucet turn on.

He walked back over with a rag, slowly opening up your legs as you both felt and saw your cum mixed with his, dripping down your inner thigh. He moved the warm rag against your skin, letting out a short gasp as he grazed the rag against your sensitive cunt, cleaning up the main source of the mess. You heard your husband let out a breath of a chuckle, seeing a ghost of a smirk etched on his face. Your soft smile turned abashed as your hand reached up, smacking him slightly on his shoulder. Your brick house of a husband didn’t even flinch from your smack, continuing to clean you up. Soon you could feel nothing but the touch of water on your legs. Once finished, your husband slowly pulled your soaked shorts down the rest of the way, before tossing them into your laundry hamper. With nothing else, he carried you back to the bed.

The two of you slipped underneath the sheets, his arm easily wrapping your waist as he pulled you close. You had no use of the pillows, using your husband’s naked chest, humming at the warmth that radiated off of his body. Before you knew it, you had laid a soft kiss against the beefy shoulder of your husband, before snuggling back into him. You both heard and felt him move, smiling as you felt a soft pressure against the top of your head, feeling the sensation of lips. With that, you drifted off to sleep, slowly hearing your own husband’s snores echo into her.

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littlexdeaths · 2 months

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borrow the moonlight - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: descriptions of trauma/night terrors, upside down, mentions of eddie and reader’s deaths, allusions to smut, body insecurities, oral (m receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, one use of daddy

a/n: this might not make a lot of sense if you haven’t read the first part, so you can do that here.

also thank you to my baby @strangerstilinski for looking this over for me and @mugloversonly for the suggestion on the title 💕

based on as long as you’re mine from wicked

word count: 3.4k

His feet hit the ground at a rapid pace, his makeshift shield clutched tightly in his fist. His spear had long been abandoned, the metal lid now his only source of protection.

Not much farther now, keep pushing.

The flapping of bat wings are getting closer as Dustin’s high pitched screams cut through the air.

“Eddie! Run faster!”

He’s almost there, the trailer door is barely ten feet away now. And that much closer to you. His ears are ringing and your words echo through his head.

Please come back to us.

Eddie’s foot catches on a vine, causing him to go crashing to the ground. His eyes widen in fear as the swarm of demobats suddenly surround him. Another scream pierces the air as he holds the shield over his face, dread filling his chest.

He’d know that voice anywhere.

You weren’t supposed to go through the gate, you were supposed to stay in Hawkins. Why didn’t you listen to him for once? But before Eddie can process what’s happening he feels a bite pierce through the flesh of his stomach, his own screams sounding far away in his ears.

But when he feels your hands on his chest the panic really sets in, and you move the shield away from his face. The bats are circling the both of you now, and he attempts to tuck you into his side. The metal lid now covers your faces as the male uses his own body to shield the rest of you.

“I couldn’t just leave you in here,” your voice shakes and tears stream down your cheeks.

A painful cry leaves your lips as one of the creatures bites down on your calf.

“Stupid, baby, you’re so stupid!” He cries before pressing his lips to yours.

The creatures circling above you let out one more loud shriek, and Dustin watches in utter horror as they dive down toward you both. Before Eddie can process what’s happening, you’ve rolled yourself on top of him. Shielding his body from the onslaught of demobats, your cries of pain echo loudly in his ears.

No no no.

Eddie awakes with a start, a muffled scream ripping its way out of his lungs as he sits straight up in bed. He’s dripping sweat, chest rising and falling as he attempts to catch his breath. He frantically pats the spot beside him; he panics once he notices it’s empty, the sheets cool to the touch.

Meaning you hadn’t been in bed for quite some time. He swings his legs over the side of the mattress, but he doesn’t get the chance to stand before you’re rushing back into your bedroom. His heart rate begins to slow as he takes you in, fully coming back to reality.

You’re wearing one of his old Garfield t-shirts, the neck is so stretched out it’s basically hanging off of your shoulder. Your legs are bare, just a pair of fuzzy socks adorning your feet and the sight brings a small smile to his lips.

Your hair is messy from sleep and pulled back from your face. But the dark circles under your eyes tell him you’ve been up for a lot longer than he realizes.

Despite all of that, you still managed to take his breath away.

“Another nightmare?” your voice is soft, practically a whisper as you approach him.

Eddie reaches forward to grab your shirt in his fist, pulling you between his open legs. He buries his face in your middle and you wrap your arms around him, pressing a tender kiss to his sweaty curls.

“You— you went through the gate.” His voice is muffled as you run your fingers through his curls.

“You… you…”

Eddie can’t speak the words, but you already know what he was going to say.

His shoulders shake as he starts to cry, but the implication of his words makes a lump form in your throat.

“It’s okay baby, it was just a dream. I’m right here.”

You let him soak your shirt with his tears, knowing he needed to let it out before he’d calm down completely. It had been well over a week since he had a nightmare of this magnitude, and you had thought he was beginning to improve.

Clearly, you were very wrong.

This was the first time he had never dreamt of you dying though, and it broke your heart. In the beginning it was him who had been the one to comfort you when you awoke in the dead of the night. Dreams of his lifeless body, trapped in the upside down forever flashing behind your eyes. But the further away from Hawkins you went, is when his nightmares began.

So now it was your turn to comfort him.

When his breathing starts to slow, he carefully pulls away from your middle. His eyes are bloodshot and glassy as he glances up at you, the tear streaks beginning to dry on his cheeks.

“Can I see her?” he asks hoarsely.

You smile softly, carefully untangling yourself from him. You press a light kiss to his forehead, before you slip out of the room. Eddie wipes any remaining tears from his cheeks, running a hand through his messy curls in an attempt to tame them.

You return a few moments later with a bundle of blankets in your arms. Eddie’s face immediately lights up at the sight of you two, grinning as you carefully pass the sleeping infant into his awaiting arms.

“I just got her to go back to sleep, so try not to wake her,” you whisper.

You take a seat beside him on the bed, watching fondly as he gazes down at the little girl. A calloused finger lightly strokes her rosy cheek, before she sleepily wraps her small hand around his finger. Her dark curls are sticking up wildly, much like his own. She was almost a carbon copy of him, except for her eyes.

Those were all you.

“I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long… she was just so fussy,” you apologize, exhaustion clear in your voice.

Exhaustion soon melts into worry the longer you look at him, worried that your prolonged absence was the reason for his sudden night terror. Despite knowing that these things were quite common, especially considering what you both had gone through.

Eddie just shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s little fist before meeting your eyes.

“I’m fine, sweetheart, I promise. Having both of you here really helps,” he reassures you.

When Winnie starts to stir in his arms, he begins to gently rock her back and forth, cooing at her every so often. The sight of the two of them together makes your heart feel more full than you could have ever anticipated. You want him to soak up as much time with her as possible, so you slip out of the room again and into your small kitchen.

After everything that happened with Vecna, closing the gates and eventually clearing Eddie’s name— you both put Hawkin’s in your rearview mirror.

You found yourself in a small, but cute seaside town on the coast of Washington. After you quickly realized the hustle and bustle of city life just wasn’t for either of you. While Indianapolis was a great city, you barely made it a month before the nightmares started.

The constant noise only seemed to fuel his growing anxiety, and he woke up screaming more nights than not. His body would be drenched in sweat and he trembled in your arms as the memories of the upside down flashed behind his eyes. The longer you stayed there the worse it became, so you packed up and moved again.

But you would do anything for him, if it meant he was by your side. That he was safe.

Opening the kitchen cabinet you grab out one of the many mugs that used to line the walls of the Munson trailer, one that Wayne had insisted you take with you. Cradling the chipped ceramic in between your palms, you grab out a packet of hot chocolate and empty the powder into the mug. You turn on your electric kettle, before glancing out the kitchen window.

The night is absolutely still, quiet.

Much like you preferred it to be. Experiencing life in the big city made you realize just how much you missed your sleepy little hometown. Before it was overrun by monsters.

You let your eyes slip shut, remembering all those nights you spent with Eddie at lover’s lake. Before your life was turned upside down.

Only the sounds of crickets and your mingled breathing fill the night air. The moon shone brightly overhead, engulfing you both in a pale glow. His fingers would trail over your smooth skin, his mouth swallowing your soft whimpers when they dip further between your thighs—

You’re suddenly snapped out of your daydream when you hear the soft pad of footsteps coming down the hall towards you. And your eyes flutter open when you feel his arms slip around your waist.

“Hopefully she doesn’t wake up again tonight,” he mumbles sleepily, pulling you flush against his chest.

He rests his chin on your shoulder, watching as you begin pouring the warm water into the mug.

“Is that for me?” he asks, his breath tickles your neck and causes you to squirm in his embrace.

His lip lifts in a cheshire like grin when the movement has you unintentionally grinding your ass back into him.

“Mhm, to help you sleep.”

You shrug, knowing from past experience how a cup of hot chocolate was always able to coax him back into a deep slumber. It was something Wayne had mentioned in passing once, it was one of the only things that would help when Eddie awoke from a nightmare as a young boy.

You glance up at the clock on the wall, 4:07 am. Eddie would have to be up to go back into the shop in a few hours.

He hums, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear and traveling down your throat. His hands that were once secure around your middle begin to wander lower, brushing against the hem of your t-shirt.

“Hmm… I think I know of something better to help me sleep, darlin’.”

Eddie spins you around in his arms, a small gasp escaping you at the sudden movement. The brunette quickly lifts you, setting you on the counter before slotting himself between your open legs. His lips are on yours before you have a chance to reply, your arms slipping around his neck to tug him closer.

His urgency leaves you a little breathless when his mouth trails back down the side of your neck, descending… lower lower lower. Until his lips brush against the curve of your knee and those brown hues gaze up at you longingly from his newfound position on the kitchen floor.

“Eddie…” you hum, caressing the stubble that lines his jaw.

The male continues to press his lips along the apex of your thighs, only stopping when you grip his curls in your fist. You tug on them harshly, in an effort to get his attention, a throaty moan leaves him from your actions.

“Please, let me,” you pause as he sucks onto the flesh of your inner thigh. A soft whine leaves you as his teeth soon graze over that same spot, “Let me take care of you for once.”

The brunette glances up at you again, and the pleading look on your face is enough to convince him. Not that Eddie could ever tell you no, he’s been wrapped around your finger from the first moment he laid eyes on you.

He rises to his feet without another word and helps you down from the counter. You eagerly switch places, guiding him back against the cabinets. Your hands trail down the bare skin of his chest, fingers showing extra care to the uneven flesh.

The scars that littered his torso were just another reminder of what the two of you had been through. Eddie hated them, and for the longest time afterwards he never let you see them. And while they were a reminder of the horrific things he had gone through in that other dimension, they were also a testament of his strength.

That he fought his way back to you— both of you.

“You’re beautiful, Eds,” you mumble, your lips passing over where your fingertips had just been.

Until you sink to your knees, gripping the elastic band of his boxers and tugging them down his thighs. His hardened cock springs free once the fabric pools at his feet, and he kicks them to the side. Your mouth practically waters as you take him in fully. Reaching out to wrap a delicate hand around the base of his shaft, and you feel him shudder.

“I love you,” he breathes, dark eyes watching you with the utmost admiration.

You press a kiss to the pink tip before taking him past your full lips, a low groan leaving his own. His head tilts back as you engulf him completely, fingers gripping the edge of the counter to stable himself. Eddie practically whimpers when he feels you gag around him, hips jutting forward until he hits the back of your throat.

While his eyes have slipped shut, yours are focused intently on him. The way his teeth sink into his lower lip when he tries to quiet himself, and his brows scrunch together when your tongue drags along the underside of his cock. They only flutter open again when he reaches out to rest his palm on the back of your head, slowly fucking himself into your mouth.

“That’s it… shit. You look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he grunts.

The volume of his moans steadily increases as you pick up the pace. One of your hands rests on his thigh, while the other moves to cup his balls. His face continues to contort in pleasure, each drag of his cock against your tongue has heat pooling in your lower belly. His thigh begins to tremble beneath your palm, and you know he’s close.

Before he reaches that precipice, he’s pulling you off him. A string of saliva drips down your chin as you practically pout up at him. Eddie laughs softly, taking your hands to help you to your feet.

“Don’t give me that look, baby,” he cradles your face in his palms. “I just don’t want this to end yet.”

The male leans forward, capturing your lips with his own. He begins to walk you backwards until you bump into the kitchen table, only pulling away to lift the sleep shirt over your head. Eddie guides your panties down your thighs and helps you step out of the fabric.

“Lay back for me, pretty girl,” while you raise an eyebrow at his request, a playful smile graces over his features, and that dimple makes an appearance.

Eddie carefully lifts you again, and you hiss quietly as the cool wood of the table touches your overheated skin.

“It’s my turn to worship you,” he asserts.

Eddie then kisses the tip of your nose before coaxing you to lay back against the hard surface. A small shiver runs through you as he leans over you, the light above the stove bathing the kitchen in a warm, yellow hue. It casts an almost halo-like glow around his silhouette, he looks like an angel.

His head dips, kissing along your collarbone and your breath begins to pick up in your chest. He can feel your heart racing beneath his lips, which spurs him on further. Those same lips graze over the swell of your breasts, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak. He soon switched to show the same amount of attention to the other.

But Eddie doesn’t stop there, allowing his lips to travel over the stretch marks that zigzagged across your lower tummy and hips.

Your own set of battle scars, while different from his— only made you more beautiful in his eyes.

He could tell from the change in your breathing that you were nervous, hands pushing his long curls back from his face. While his body had changed, so had yours. Growing a little version of the two of you had widened your hips, thighs. The raised stripes along your skin was something you were still getting used to.

Despite knowing how much he adored you, that little voice in the back of your head continued to tell you that you weren't as desirable as you used to be. That he wouldn’t want you in the same way he used to, your body was too different. Eddie notices the far off look in your eyes, and he already knows the reason for it.

But he wouldn’t let you dwell on those thoughts for long.

“So goddamn gorgeous…” he nuzzles his face into your stomach, blowing raspberries against your skin. The brunette grins at you as you giggle softly, “That’s my girl.”

He slowly crawls on top of you, resting his palms on either side of your head before slotting himself in between your open thighs. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his dark eyes beginning to melt your remaining defenses.

You reach between your bodies to grasp his shaft, lining him up with your entrance. He sinks in slowly, savoring the way your warm walls envelop him fully. Once he’s fully seated at your deepest point, his head drops. Forehead resting against your own as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Eddie gives an experimental thrust forward, his cock dragging against your walls in such a delicious manner. The feeling has you whining softly, clutching onto him as he fills you to the brim with each gentle rock of his hips. The table beneath you creaks in protest, but the sound only encourages him to go deeper— faster.

Determined to watch you fall apart beneath him.

And when his cock hits that perfect spot that has you keening aloud, he presses his lips to yours to silence you. You can feel him everywhere, body completely molded against yours. So much so that you can’t tell where you begin and he ends.

Eddie can feel the way you start to tremble beneath him, your manicured nails digging harshly into his biceps. Just another way that you’ve marked him as your own. His lips soon detach from your own, trailing down your jaw to the hollow of your throat.

It’s been far too long since you’ve been like this, between his long hours at the shop and taking care of your newborn baby… you haven’t been able to have this time together.

So as much as you both would love to do this for hours, your bodies clearly have other plans.

Another whimper of his name has his cock twitching inside you, his thrusts beginning to pick up speed as your walls clamp down harder around him.

“You gonna make me a daddy again, angel?” he pants into your damp skin, the question being the thing to finally push you over the edge.

You cry out incoherent babbles of his name and exclamations as your body shakes. Stars dancing behind your eyes when they squeeze shut. Curses tumble from his mouth when you feel him spill inside you, continuing to rock his hips until the exhaustion finally overtakes him.

Eddie all but collapses onto you, sweaty and spent. You giggle when he nips at your shoulder, lifting his head to regard you with the sleepiest of expressions.

But that peace doesn’t last long.

The phone rings suddenly, a shrill sound makes you wince. A loud wail soon follows, both sounds piercing your ears. You both are scrambling off the table in a flurry of limbs.

“Can you go get her, please?” you groan, pulling your discarded shirt over your head before you reach for the receiver.

Eddie haphazardly pulls his boxers back up his legs before he rushes down the hall toward your crying infant.

“Hello?”

You can’t hide the bitterness from flooding your tone, knowing sleep wouldn’t be coming for quite some time now that your daughter was awake again.

“You need to come back to Hawkins… now.”

You would recognize Robin’s voice anywhere, but the urgency in her tone has your brows scrunching in confusion.

You grip the phone tighter in your palm, “Why? Rob, what's going on?”

It’s silent for a beat, only the sounds of her shuddered breathing on the other end of the line.

“He’s back.”

tagging some moots who seemed interested 💕@loserboysandlithium @razzeith @vamp-bunny @take-everything-you-can @probablyin-bed @mmunson86 @eddies-acousticguitar @nailbatanddungeon @guiltyasquinn

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem reader

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 6 months

Text

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 24] || [Chapter 26]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: not smut but a bit of sexual tension Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ahem ahem ahem ahem

thanks to @lyralein for helping solve a problem I was having during this chapter

and also @st-el-la-luna for THIS brilliance that although I didn't copy or anything, still got stuck in the back of my head and made me giggle and inspired me a little!

Chapter 25: Soap............?

you: simon. you: save me pls. Simon: Location. you: that felt ominous as fuck. Simon: You texted me to help you. Simon: Location. you: oh gosh no simon its not urgent. you: its not even like you: a panic thing you: no danger Simon: Don’t ever text me to save you when it isn’t an actual emergency. you: i’m sorry!!!!!! you: did i scare you that much??? Simon: Yes. Simon: You had me ready to steal a HUMVEE to get to you. you: I’M SORRY! you: i’m just out with my friends for brunch and kyle and johnny came and they’re embarrassing me and i need help Simon: So that’s where they went. Simon: You’ve got this. you: SIMON, THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT OUR SEX LIVES! you: DON’T LEAVE ME TO DEAL WITH THIS ALONE. you: HELP? Simon: Darling you’re dating them, you’re gonna have to get used to this sooner or later. you: I KNOW BUT STILL you: SIMON PLEASE Simon: I’m in a meeting, darling. Simon: You’ve got this. Simon: 🖤 you: SIMON?! you: awwww you sent me an emoji! you: BUT SIMON?!?!?!??! you: don’t leave me like this!!! you: how dare youuuu

He stopped responding so you sighed dramatically and put your phone away, your eyes flittering over the table.

In just 15 minutes, Johnny and Kyle had gone from bickering to regaling your friends with sexcapade stories to talking about your dates, about each other, about the rest of the guys, about work.

Your friends are, of course, eating it up, how could they not? The lads are charming, funny, interesting, hot…

You want to pay attention to the stories Johnny is regaling your friends about, as well as Kyle, with the retelling of his helicopter upside-down cruise, but… you can’t. You’re still mortified, long after they moved away from the sex talk…

And it doesn’t help that Kyle has taken your chair and made you sit on his lap while the five of you talk.

Sure, you’ve graduated to regular talk, but that doesn’t solve the fact that Kyle’s cock is hard, straining against the fly of his grey jeans, and slotted right between your ass cheeks, his hands gripping you around the hip to keep you sat still.

Thank God for the existence of Simon Motherfucking Riley (memo to self: ask him and the rest of the lads what their middle names are)...

The door opens after what felt like a torturous amount of time and in strolls a 6ft4 mountain of a man in all black, as usual.

“L.T.!” Johnny shouts and waves him over, as if somehow Johnny’s raucous laugh was missable and Simon might not know where he, and the group, is.

Your friends, of course, immediately look over, their jaws proceeding to drop in unison at the sight of Simon.

His sexy little black leather jacket, black jeans, black t-shirt, black boots… No mask in sight… And, for once, his hair is lying flat over his forehead, loose blond strands just barely reaching his thick eyebrows.

He has to have done it on purpose.

“Hi…” You greeted Simon softly, your face warming up a bit at the sight of him. He nods at you and cocks an eyebrow, the left corner of his mouth rising in a smirk.

Just as you’re wondering where he came from, how he knew where you were, and wasn’t he in a meeting…

“Finally. Texted ye the address like 30 minutes ago.” Johnny quips next to you.

“Piss off.” Simon replies as he keeps looking at you. He doesn’t even bother to introduce himself to Leah and Mia.

“Hear you’ve been embarrassing our partner.” Simon says, his brown eyes slowly sliding up to Johnny then to Kyle behind you.

“Ye did?” Johnny asks and turns to look at you. “Ye told on me?!” He asks dramatically, as if it was the biggest betrayal.

“Don’t look at ‘em, look at me.” Simon quips as he leans forward and rests his hand on the back of Kyle and your chair, glaring right at Johnny.

“Oh, please, L.T., it’s all good-natured.” Johnny says dismissively with a playful smile on his lips.

“Is it?” Simon retorts.

“Why’s it feel like I’m watching a big brother confront a school bully?” Kyle quips.

“Don’t start too, Garrick, you’ll get your dose soon.” Simon adds.

“Si… Please…” You remark and laugh nervously as you look around, your face already burning hotter and hotter. “We’re making a scene.”

“You asked me to save ya, darlin’, that’s what I’m doin’, hm?” Simon tells you before leaning close and planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth, his eyes still glued to Johnny. “So, how about it, Johnny?”

“How about what, L.T.?” Johnny asks, though, you don’t miss the way his eyes are shining at the sight of Simon’s protectiveness… or the way Kyle’s breath hitches right behind your ear, his cock throbbing against your ass.

“If you’re so keen on embarrassing people by revealing private matters… How about we tell everyone about the reason your callsign’s Soap?” Simon quips. Then, he turns his head and, staring right at your friends, he continues.

“A callsign is like an alias we use over the radio.” He explains. “And Johnny’s here is ‘Soap’... wanna guess why? I’ll tell you…” He turns his head and looks right at Johnny again.

“It’s because he’s dropped his in the shower more often than one can stand to bloody count, if you catch my drift.” He remarks, then, he shoots you a little wink.

“That’s nae- You know it’s- You-” For the first time in what must be his whole life, Johnny was left a blubbering mess, stuttering over himself…

“Damn… didn’t know friendly fire was turned on…” You quip, trying to clear the air a bit. It seems to work, because all three of the men around you chuckle at it.

Your eyes then lock with Simon’s, then Johnny’s… and meanwhile, Simon’s also looking at Kyle behind you. The sexual tension is almost palpable…

“I think we should go home, so we avoid any more embarrassment, hm?” Simon suggests and pulls you up to your feet by the forearm, causing you to squeak in surprise at the suddenness of it.

“I agree.” Kyle says as he stands up too.

“Well said, L.T.” Johnny adds.

Simon pulls out his wallet and drops a few bills on the table. “For the check.” He tells Leah and Mia. “Nice to meet you.” Then, he drags you out of the bistro.

“It was very nice to meet you!” Kyle tells the girls, making no attempts to cover the bulge in his pants as he rushes after you and Simon.

“Sorry, duty calls. But we need to do this again.” Johnny adds as he scoots across the gap in the chairs and winks at the girls before setting off after the three that have already left. “I’ll make sure to tell you all the hot gossip next time!” He adds loudly before leaving out the door.

Leah and Mia are left sitting there flabbergasted, eyes blinking slowly, before exchanging a look with one another.

“The candle worked too well.” Mia states blankly.

“It did.” Leah agrees. “Do you… have another one?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod smut #141 x reader

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fandomfloozy · 10 days

Text

Oh, I'm pretty boy?

pairing: katsuki bakugo x sick!reader

c/w: fluff, early relationship, petnames (katsuki calls reader babe, reader evidently calls katsuki pretty lol), sprinkles of hispanic!reader/spanish-speaking!reader, gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

~°•*~

You've been sick the last few days.

You're on the tail-end of recovery now, thank god, but for most of the week you've been bed-ridden, and snotty, and sweaty, and hot, and cold. It's been miserable, if you're being honest. With the light at the end of the tunnel in view, you're glad the worst of it is over.

There has been one upside to being sickly, though--one aspect that makes you wish you could be sick just one more day: Ever since you fell ill, since the moment he'd heard you were taking leave off work to rest at home for a bit, you've been under the thorough care of your very own, self-appointed nurse, Katsuki.

There's this saying: "You'll never truly know someone well enough until you've seen them struggle financially, grieve a lost loved one, or witness them while they're sick."

Your relationship is new. Not early days, but still far too soon for him to be seeing you sick, for your liking.

But when he showed up at your door a couple days ago--masked up, worry-eyed, and holding all the essentials for treating a typical head cold--how could you refuse him?

And to be fair, he's been a rock. He's changed your compresses (water bowl kept at optimal temperature), given you medicine in intervals (timed and administered to the MINUTE), and even cooked you palatable meals (anything you could keep down, but namely the caldo recipe he got from your mom when he asked her what you ate when you're sick). He did everything short of rubbing Vick's vapo rub on you (not for lack of trying), all while keeping a level head and brushing aside your concerns over feeling like you're burdening him.

"You're my partner," he'd say matter-of-factly. "This is my job, ain't it?"

A rhetorical question. He said it as if it was an irrefutable truth, as if he hadn't even considered an alternative, as if the very thought of leaving you to fend off this cold by yourself was an affront to your relationship, scowl on his face and all.

His bedside manner needed work, but when he said those words to you... let's just say the flush rising up your face probably had nothing to do with the cold.

So, yeah. While you're happy to be feeling better, you can't help being a little disappointed that the doting will soon come to an end.

Which is why you now sit with your head resting in your hands, elbows on the kitchen bar, making the most of admiring a now unmasked Katsuki as he cooks your dinner on what will be the last of your "sick days."

You're unashamed in your ogling. You feel bold. It might be the relaxed atmosphere. It might be the way Katsuki let you wear his hoodie tonight... It might just be the cold medicine. You feel dozy, comfy, and so dopily content as you watch your boyfriend chop vegetables.

He does it with ease--so practiced that it's like he's on autopilot. His defenses are down, completely in his element.

"'Ya sure you want all this cooked in with your rice?" Now that you're feeling better, he's less inclined to hold his tongue about his thoughts on your childhood dishes.

You yawn and nod. "Mhm, it's the way my mami always makes it."

"Just sayin', I could make ya rice without all this extra stuff."

"It's a good thing you're not making rice, Katsuki." You pout dramatically for emphasis. "You're making sopita."

"Sopita," he repeats, shaking his head with a sideways grin. "Alright, babe. I've got you covered. Sopita coming right up."

You switch to resting your cheek in one hand, continuing to observe your boyfriend as he works. He looks so serene this way. With his smug little half smile, even his expression screams "relaxed"--very unlike his usual frown and furrowed brow.

You're not used to seeing him like this. Sure, you've seen him in a good mood, upbeat, excited, even downright elated, like on the day you agreed to go out with him.

Katsuki has always been an... expressive person, even when it doesn't grant him the most flattering of expressions.

Right now, though, while he's contented and caring for you in the comfort of your own home, his features are on display in such a way that you wonder if the cough syrup really is getting to you.

He looks almost...

Pretty...

"You're starin'."

You know you are. "Sorry," you laugh. "I was just thinking how it's a shame you have such a cara de fuchi most of the time, Kats. You're so pretty."

His head snaps toward you. "Fucking WHAT." The furrow is back in his brow. If you were paying proper attention, you'd notice the flush rising up his neck and the back of his ears, but your eyelids are feeling a bit heavy at this point.

You wave your free hand dismissively. "You know, cara de fuchi," you explain. You're sure you've used this phrase in front of him before. "Like you're a sour puss, you pull faces--"

"I'm not fucking pretty," he interrupts.

You open your eyes slightly to squint at him. "Pfft," you laugh. "Has no one ever told you that?"

"Hell, no." He turns back to the task at hand. Grumbling under his breath.

With his signature grimace making its return, the allure is gone; but now that you've seen it, you can't unsee it. He's beautiful. His eyes are a nice shape, and the crimson color of his irises is striking against his light complexion. The way his hair falls just above is strong browbone makes you want to push it back and rub at the scrunch between his brows. And you know he has soft lips, but on top of that, they're such a nice shade of pink. His jawline. His cheekbones. His chin.

It's a fundamental truth. Katsuki Bakugo is pretty.

You fold your arms on the island and press your cheek into the crook of your elbow. "I'm sure people would tell you more often if all the pretty wasn't covered up by your perpetual stank face."

Cue said stank face. He bumbles over his words in frustration for a second. "You're sick and loopy, stop bein' weird."

You giggle. "And you have a nice face when you're not acting chronically disgusted by the world."

He looks at you properly and you smile to yourself in pure delight and fondness.

"You're pretty when you're happy, Katsuki."

He deliberates over it for a moment, stank face semi relaxing. He's about to say something else when you cut into the silence with another yawn.

His gaze softens into an amused smirk as he reaches for your cheek and pinches softly. "Alright, alright. Don't fall asleep on me just yet, you gotta eat properly before goin' to bed."

You swat his hand away and rise to attention while rubbing your eyes. "Okay, okay. I'm up."

He smiles and goes back to cooking your half-prepared meal. "Ponte las pilas, or whatever the hell your mom says when you start lazin' around."

You huff at that. "I regret teaching you Spanish, you always pick up the worst phrases."

Katsuki barks out a laugh and you can't help the snort that follows as you giggle right along with him.

You two settle into the monotony of the last evening of your first of many sick days together. You're sure your boyfriend has had more than enough of witnessing you sick to satisfy stipulations. Suffice to say that he felt he knew you and your "sleepy freak tendencies" a bit better now.

There's definitely an addendum you'd make to that old saying, though: You'll never know how pretty someone is until you've seen them care for you while you're sick.

~°•*~

divider via cafekitsune

gif via ara-kan (deactivated)

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 days

Text

Mission Control 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The man walks you straight through a yard and into the thicket of trees behind. If he wasn’t so confident, you would think he had no idea where he’s going. His hand stays locked around your arm as he has you staggering over peat and leaves.

You come out on the other side of the trees to the open highway. A car zooms by but he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, the force of the cars whipping by blowing around you, horns honking. He pushes you towards the cement barrier. Before you can lift your leg, he lifts you.

He puts you on the other side and follows. He doesn’t miss a step. On and on, across another three lanes and down into a ditch. Across the field. You look back and he yanks you, nearly taking you of your feet.

A chill creeps through you, numbing you to the terror boiling in your gut. Your legs tremble but don’t stop either. You’re too scared to resist.

The sky darkens and the moon peeks out from behind another line of pines. On and on. At last, your body gives out.

Your legs burn as the fold. He catches you. He puts you over his shoulder and presses on. That’s when it really sets in. It’s happening. You don’t know what just that it isn’t good. Your body wracks as your tears flow free, rolling down to your hairline as you hang upside down.

When he stops, you’re in a clearing. He puts you down. You sit on the dirt as he squats in front of you. The moonlight barely limns his figure. He reaches to his belt. He pulls out a pair of thick cuffs and dangles them. He tilts his head.

You sniffle, “please, I won’t go.”

He stares then slowly hooks them back on his belt. He stands and looks around. You hear him in the dark, twigs snapping, leaves rustling. You catch a glimpse of his shadow now and again. The crickets hum and dampness rises from the ground.

A spark, then a full bloom of flame goes up. The fire casts a light over the barrier built with large rocks and the pile of thick sticks broken to fuel it. The night flickers with the cinder and he approaches you again. He moves you to sit closer to the heat.

He lowers himself next to you, legs bent, arms resting on his knees. He just sits and watches the flames. You look down and slump. You’re exhausted.

You flinch as he grips your shoulder. He lowers his legs, crosses them, and pulls you down until you’re on your side. He guides your head onto his thigh. He holds you there. He doesn’t need to give the order.

The adrenaline never quite evaporates, merely recedes. Your eyes close on their own. You plummet into a pit of darkness. Your head and body ache with the sheer senseless sleep.

You wake with a chatter. The man still sits. He hasn’t moved. You flutter your lashes at the lightening horizon.

His hand drifts from your shoulder and crawls up your neck. He brushes along your cheek and over your hair. You hold your breath. Your scalp aches as you brace for another cruel yank. He retracts and pokes your shoulder instead.

You sit up and stand only when he does. He reaches for you and you cower. He rips your knapsack from your arms as he spins you. He hurls it away into the trees. Then, it’s back to walking.

You’re stiff from a night sleeping on the ground. Your clothes are damp from the dew and a frigidness lingers in your skin. He keeps you moving until the sun meets its apex.

You come to a lot in the middle of another highway. It’s empty but for a black motorcycle. He marches you to it and guides you onto the back. He straddles the front and flips up the kickstand. You’re too tired to be confused, to wonder about how and why and what.

He taps his shoulders. You hesitate but grab onto them. It might not be so bad to fly off but you’re still human. You still have that need to survive.

He takes off with a roar of the motor. You yipe and squeeze tight. You fight against the wind and lean forward, hooking your arms around him as you feel your grasp slipping. He doesn’t seem to mind as you cling to him. He has a heart. You can hear it through his back.

You close your eyes as the wind tunnels around you, whipping around the bike and your bodies. He’s a barrier to the brunt of it.

He rides through the night and beyond. You have to keep awake to stay latched on. He keeps on and on, into another crowd of trees, one so dense that it darkens the daytime.

When at last you are still, you as good as fall off the motorcycle. You stumble until he grabs onto you. He moves you in front of him and puts his hands on your shoulders. He leads you from behind. Twisting and turning you in a deliberate path.

You look up at the faded planks on the side of the reclusive house. You clatter up the steps beside him. He stops and tugs the back of your jacket. You think he wants you to stay still. There’s a beep and something clicks. Then something else.

You look around in confusion. He flicks your cheek. Hard. You wince and hiss and look forward. He points over your shoulder. You follow the gesture to the door as the latch rolls back on its own.

You stop before the door and just stare. Where the walls are covered in wooden siding, it is metal. You gulp. He reaches around you, stepping flush to you. He pushes the handle down and shoves the door inward. His other hand nudges your lower back.

You enter and automatic lights flash on. You gape at the room before you. It’s like any other cabin you’ve seen. On television, you were never rich enough for vacation homes. There’s a floral couch and a matching armchair on a round area rug, right before a fireplace, a table with a lamp by the chair. It’s all startlingly normal. Not like him.

#drabble #captain hydra #series #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #avengers #mcu #mission control #marvel #captain america #au

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amnesique · 2 years

Text

escapism. — tyler galpin

pairing : tyler galpin x reader

summary : after xavier breaks up with you when wednesday captures his interest, driven by jealousy, you decide to get your get back at him by sleeping with his enemy, tyler, who you knew had a thing for you for some time already.

warnings : dom!reader, sub!tyler, smut (18+, minors dni!), dirty talk, mommy kink, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, unprotected sex.

as soon as your ex-boyfriend broke up with you saying that your relationship is no longer working because he has developed feelings for none other than wednesday addams, the new girl at your school, you reached for your phone and called a taxi, the address you said it being the exact address of the weathervane cafe.

drinking your coffee at this cafe very often, you had come to know his schedule. so, knowing that at this hour you would only find tyler inside who should be getting ready for the closing, you confidently stepped inside in your black dress that didn't showed too much, but leaved a lot to the imagination.

as you expected, tyler galpin was at the counter wiping the surface with a cloth. at which point you slowly approached him, and dragged your fingers, slowly, all across the surface until you were in his field of vision. he looked up quickly and when he noticed you, he instinctively took a step back and swallowed hard. he couldn't take his eyes off you, his eyes running from top to bottom on your body, impatience quickly making its way throughout his body, and lingering a little longer on your chest that was put in a good light by the cleavage you wore.

"getting ready for closing, galpin?” you asked him, what was obvious, in a low tone wanting to test his patience.

"y/n." the boy said your name out loud, without realizing it, trying to find out if he was somehow imagining this moment or not.

a not-so-subtle grin appeared on your face saying "that's my name," as you walked around the counter to get in front of him.

you were so close to him that it seemed like a dream come true. he thought he was losing his mind, but it was real. so fucking real, he would have added.

"what are you doing here?" he asked you, instinctively running his tongue over his bottom lip.

you pouted and eliminated the space between you, running your fingers over the collar of the t-shirt he was wearing even though it was already arranged, moving closer to his ear so you can whisper, "don't you want me here?"

he could swear he felt the thing in his pants twitching.

"i didn't say that," he spoke with difficulty as he was barely able to catch his breath.

you pulled away from him, grinning to yourself, and he immediately missed your body being pressed against his.

"seriously, y/n," tyler's weak voice was heard once again and you couldn't miss the rise and fall of his chest. "what's going on?" he added and your gaze gave up from scanning his chest so you can glare at him, with parted lips. a look that turned him upside down. "weren't you with thorpe?"

"past tense. exactly." you spotted the important part of his sentence and, moving closer to his face, you placed your palms on his cheeks to pull him towards you due to the difference in height. "now," you breathed in and whispered the next part slowly, "wouldn't you like to let mommy take care of you, pretty boy?"

your warm breath on his lips and the words you said, plus all the teasing before, had made his situation so hard that he would have done whatever you told him. so he nodded and without a second thought, you kissed him hard and first you took his apron off and then you undid his belt.

a weak whimper got stuck in his throat, trying not to look so eager in front of you, but all his trying ended when, running your tongue past his teeth, you deepened the kiss and undid his pants so you can put your hand in his boxers to palm him.

you broke the kiss just to ask him "do you enjoy the way i'm touching you?", then coming back to gluing your lips on his again, continuing to move your hand along his bulge and pushing him towards the counter behind him.

he nodded against your lips, longing for more. and you could figure it out. so you pulled away from him for a moment, a short moment when he moaned at the lack of your touch, clamping his arms around the edge of the counter to keep himself on his feet. but after removing his pants and boxers, you stayed on your knees and with a big grin on your face, looking at his member.

"please," he whispered, closing his eyes, clutching the edge in his hands so hard that you could see the veins sticking out under his t-shirt, as he couldn't take your intense gaze.

biting your bottom lip and bringing your legs closer, looking for some kind of friction, you run your hand over his length once more and ask him, bringing your lips closer to his member so he can feel the vibration of your words into his whole body, "what are you asking me to do, exactly?" finally, you run your tongue over his tip and he straightens his back against the hard counter.

the movements of your tongue over the tip of his member were driving him crazy, but he couldn't find the words to tell you what he wanted.

"speak up, pretty boy,” you added and then pulled your hand away, making him open his eyes, “or i'll stop.”

his eyes were shining because he was not getting what he longed for and he was forced by your threat to find his courage. so he said, "please make me feel good. please, y/n."

you wrapped your hand around him, going up and down in slow motions, but your gaze stayed on him. "how do you address me?"

"y/n?" he sighed your name, in the form of a question, not understanding what you're talking about, but your hand stopped.

"wrong, pretty boy. think it over."

the way he couldn't resist the desire he had for you turned you on so much that you didn't know how long you could last without getting something in return, but you couldn't stop. not now.

"mommy?" he said questioningly, remembering your earlier words, followed by a guttural hum.

you feel yourself clench over nothing and you approved with a smile before getting back to work. you surrounded him with your mouth, moving back and forth as you could hear him making the most beautiful sounds, moaning and whining for you.

when his hand found its place in your hair, forming a ponytail to keep it out of your face, you allowed yourself to gently slide your hands to the hem of your dress, lifting it as high as possible on your thighs. you let one of your hands slide between your legs, and into your panties, so you can caress your clit in circular motions as you continued to make him feel good.

pushing your panties aside with your hand, you insert two fingers into yourself, and at the same time you continue to stimulate him by running your tongue all over his length, and his moans encouraged you that you are doing a good job.

"i'm close, mommy." he said, and when you looked up at him, you could tell that your reaction brought him even closer because you could feel him throbbing.

driven by these impulses, you increased the speed and combined licking and sucking, and in less than a few seconds you had him under your power, moaning as hard as his lungs could allow him to do so as you felt his milk sliding down your throat.

you removed your fingers, arranging your panties back in place, everything under his watchful gaze as he tried to calm his breathing after he had just come off his climax. you began to clean him with your tongue, a fact that made you more eager, so you stood up and pulled him by the neck towards you. you pulled him into a quick, passionate kiss, letting him taste himself on your tongue and you took his hands to put them on your waist, wanting to get a little more from him.

between hungry kisses and caressing his neck, you managed to tell him, "you did such a good job for me just now". and he whimpered, feeling himself getting hard again under your touch. "do you want to continue being a good boy to mommy?” you said and withdraw from the kiss, running his hand under your dress to the base of your panties as his look on you was worshiping you like the goddess you were.

his finger went past the base of your panties and made consciousness with your wetness, and his body immediately tensed when he heard you let out a grunt.

"tell me, you wanna make me feel good, hmm?” you said and your fingers made their way under his shirt, tracing non-existent lines on his skin while he didn't know how to react, still being a little flustered.

you took advantage of the moment and pulled away from him, letting his hand slide outside your panties as you pulled off his shirt over his head and pulling off your dress as well, standing in front of him in only your underwear.

"pick me up.” you ordered and placing his hands on your ass, you jumped up to make him keep your legs around his waist. you moved to kiss his neck, and whisper instructions, “lay me down with my back on the counter."

realizing that this was really going to happen, he put aside his shyness, turning on his heels with you in his arms. he laid you down as you said, running his lips over your breasts, something he'd been wanting to do ever since he saw your chest for the first time tonight.

"you can take it off,” you encouraged him and stood up a little, ignoring how good his increasing bulge felt between your still clothed bottom lips, so that he can open the flap of your bra for better access.

he did as you told him, throwing the bra somewhere around the cafe, and hurried to run his tongue over your nipple, giving each of your breasts their moment to shine.

"i can't take it anymore," you said and moved him away so you could throw your panties somewhere. then you pulled him back to you, both of you moaning as you made skin to skin contact. "i need you inside me."

"now?" he asked in amazed, for the first time in a long time, not recognizing his own voice because of how hoarse it was.

"yes!" you cried out, the desire already being unbearable and you took the situation into your own hands, putting your hands on the his member and lining with your entrance.

"okay!"

he said and allowed himself to penetrate you, and watch as your bodies intertwined each time he came in and out of you.

"pretty boy," you drew his attention to you with your husky voice, "you have to move a little faster."

he nodded his understanding and increased his speed, kissing your neck and breasts not only to help you feel good, but also because he loved it. and you put your legs around him, the position making him touch your spot even better from this angle and turning you both into a moaning mess.

"i'm so crazy about you, y/n, you have no idea." he mentioned in a vulnerable moment, kissing you all over your body.

a guttural laugh escaped your lips, pulling him over you so you could feel his lower body rubbing against your clit. "believe me, galpin, your looks are not subtle at all. i was sure that you would love the idea of having me." you replied, hearing him panting so close to your ear.

"now that you have me, take advantage of everything i'm capable of giving you,” you grabbed his face and told him, after locking your tongues together.

he moaned into the kiss and pulled back to answer you, "you feel so good around me, mommy."

you were so close. your opening squeezed him so tight that you could his manhood throbbing again.

"pick up the pace and let yourself go release for once more, with me this time," you played with your hand in his hair, while the other hand left marks on his back when he touched that place inside you that drove you crazy. "okay, pretty boy?" you added with a sensual tone breathing slowly over his lips, pulling him into a careless kiss as his truths became sloppy.

he continued to thrust into you until you both came off your high and only then you both did relax, him staying inside you as he sat on your chest as you played in his hair.

"you were such a good boy to me, tyler, you made me feel so damn good.” you praised him, whispering in his ear, as he listened to your heartbeat.

he looked up at you, being willing to have you for several times, "will there be another time?"

you smiled at him. a smile that made his heart flutter, but you moved your eyes to the ceiling to avoid his gaze. "i promise you nothing."

you were just getting out of a relationship and you didn't want to take on another one at a vulnerable moment. but his version was not excluded at all. you liked the power you had over him and you were sure that if he gained trust, he could also be the one dominating you. and you didn't dislike this idea.

if only xavier had heard that now you were thinking how much tyler galpin could attract you. good that only you would know that.

at least for the moment.

part 2 part 3

#wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday fandom #wednesday smut #wednesday fanfic #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin smut #tyler galpin fanfic #minors dni

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crappymixtape · 2 months

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baby let me in

REQUEST → @thecreelhouse , SUMMER BLURB PARTY ❝ 🌘 because of you prompt – angsty in-between at steve’s house post-upside down –* steve drives you home after vecna and cleans you up, but who’s gonna help him? | ( 1.2k – TW: blood, wounds, etc // steve harrington x reader, lovesick and a lil fluffy )

B A B Y L E T M E I N 🎶 even if the world don’t understand you, aquilo

Everything was a little hazy around the edges, soft in the low light of Steve’s parents’ room, your bare figures swimming in navy shadows and slivers of gold from the lamp on the nightstand. In any other circumstance this would feel different, charged, skin to skin on the bed and close enough to see the steady rising and falling of Steve’s breaths, but it wasn’t.

It felt like something between grieving and falling onto your knees in relief. Felt like gasping for air after being under water too long. Like you’d both lost something out there in the Upside Down and were leading each other through the dark, finding and feeling your way together.

Bent low over a box of medical supplies, Steve sorted through band-aids and rubbing alcohol, gauze and thread and needles – a first aid kit for monsters. He’d just finished cleaning and covering up the last cut on your back, hands sure and steady as he taped you up before carefully tucking the antibiotic ointment back into place.

The rush of adrenaline was long gone now, exhaustion creeping in around the edges of the bed as you sat knee to knee and cross-legged next to each other on the duvet. Steve had given you an old, oversized Journey tee to wear, the hem dancing just above your knees, but was shirtless himself. Wearing only a pair of old basketball shorts that hung low on his hips and you couldn’t help letting your eyes trail lazily over him.

Damp hair stuck messy across his forehead, a mark to match yours squeezing around his neck, his jaw half-cast in shadow – so stoic, so calm. His lashes were a long sweep over his cheek bones, gaze low in his lap, his lips twisted in concentration.

Pretty. So pretty. Even like this.

The muscles in his arm flexed as he spun the lid closed on the rubbing alcohol, his bare chest warm in the low light, like his skin held summer underneath it. You traced the bob of his Adam’s apple, the small tick of concentration in his jaw, soft slope of his shoulders, down, down, down, until your eyes caught on his shoulder blade.

Bright red.

An angry looking cut courtesy of a demobat or maybe the tangled vines that crept through the Creel house and it made your stomach knot with worry.

“Steve–” you started and it pulled his gaze up from his lap.

“Hm?” came out tired, but when he met your eyes and saw the furrow of your brow his own pinched together. “Oh–what is it? Your bandage?”

“No. It’s your shoulder blade,” you said softly, hand lifting to ghost over his back before pulling it back quickly.

He suddenly glanced away, nerves buzzing under his skin and shrugged it off, too casual for how bad it looked, “Oh, I’m okay.”

“Steve, it’s bleeding–”

“I’ll get it after I finish your stitches. Done it plenty of times.”

“But how can you reach–”

“Ah, I just turn around in the mirror and patch it up, it’s really no big deal. Don’t worry about me, Princess. I’ve had worse, it’s not impor–”

You grabbed his hand in yours, stopped him from digging out anymore supplies and he froze, the feeling of his fingers flexing against your palm making your heart stutter in your chest.

“Not important?” you finished his sentence for him, shaking your head, “Yes it is.”

Steve cleared his throat and tried to go back to finding a needle and thread, but you stopped him again and he listened this time.

“Let me help you…please?” you asked, meeting his gaze and his expression melted – soft, defeated.

“I just–it’s–it’s my job to take care of people, I gotta put them first because if I don't who's gonna make sure they're–”

“Steve,” you squeezed his hand, “It’s okay.”

And taking the box from him you let go of his hand and slowly moved around behind him, careful of your thigh, making sure to not bump the tape and gauze he'd pressed to it. Your eyes didn’t leave him, watching how his shoulders tensed, his pulse fluttering against his neck, the way he squeezed his eyes shut and tongue jammed into his cheek.

“It’s okay,” you said again and he nodded, eyes still closed.

“Okay,” he murmured.

Pulling a cotton ball from the supply box you uncapped the alcohol and wetted it, still watching. “This is probably gonna hurt,” you warned, eyes catching the way his hands balled into fists as he nodded quietly. Just get it over with. And when you pressed the cotton to his skin he sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth, a low rumble groaning in his chest.

“Sorry,” you worried, but he looped his hand around his back and pushed it to your waist.

“I’m alright, keep going,” he said, eyes still squeezed shut.

And so you cleaned it, slow, easy, gentle, as he winced and tensed and groaned, gripped your waist like a life line as you washed the blood from his back, red turning pink until you could see the cut clearly.

It wasn’t as bad underneath it all and when you placed the last piece of tape over the corner of gauze you let your hand linger on his back, your fingers resting on the ridge of his shoulder blade.

“Thanks,” he murmured, finally turning on the bed to face you.

A tiny smile flickered at the corner of your lips, but it faded the longer you looked at him. “Why don’t you think you’re important too?” fell out before you could bite it back and your cheeks warmed when his eyes widened.

“Well, I guess I just…I’m the oldest and those kids need me and as long as they’re safe then…” he drifted off at the end, hand moving to rub at the back of his neck and you took his hand again.

“Who’s making sure you’re safe?”

And it quickly pulled his eyes back up to meet yours. Warm honey and burnt caramel, a muddied mixture of surprise and bewilderment and deep gratitude.

“I…” he started, but couldn’t finish and you reached up to tuck a lock of hair out of his face.

“You’re important too, Steve,” you said softly.

And your words struck him heavy, his throat squeezing around everything he wanted to say to you, blinking rapidly against the stinging in the corners of his eyes. He tried to will it away but knew it was no use and closed them tight, tears slipping between his lashes and down his cheeks.

“Okay,” he said, voice thick as he let you pull him close to settle into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping wide and warm around your waist.

And you sat like that there in the dark of the room, in the strange little bubble you’d created for yourselves out of vulnerability and trust, peeling back your layers and letting each other in. Seeing each other for the first time. Learning each other for who you really were.

A new start. A fresh start.

I’ll make sure you’re safe.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

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Congratulations in 5K, wow that's amazing and I'm so happy for you!

Could you please write a Graves drabble (he doesn't get enough love) where he's just so absolutely in love with his SO? Like standing back, leaning against a door frame, and watching his partner do something as mundane as the dishes or drawing? Him softly smiling as his SO hums or does something subconsciously??

I love your writing. Thank you for being my comfort writer.

—Love Echoes In Silence

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞

You dip your soapy hands back into the water, grabbing another plate before moving it over to the side to rinse its white porcelain face—finally setting it down in the plastic dish rack. Shifting back over, you hum under your breath and grab another, snatching up the washing rag as well to get rid of any residual germs.

You’d only been at this for about ten minutes; the dishes from last night were left for this morning on account of Phillip coming home early. You’d both had a soft supper with a few glasses of red wine before retiring to bed, where the man was still asleep in the ruffled sheets as his bare skin lay in the rising sunlight; his stomach to the mattress and his hair sticking this way and that. It had been a chore to sneak out from under his arm, but you’d done it nonetheless even if it had taken a few minutes. One delicate kiss to Phillip’s forehead later, you’d slipped into his large t-shirt and padded to the kitchen.

So, here you are, cleaning up with a smile on your lips and sleepy heat under Phillip’s shirt. A slow hum echoing through the air.

Another dish is added to the clean pile, and as you grasp one of the dirty wine glasses, you miss the small creak of the floor leading to the kitchen as you listen to the birds outside.

Phillip rubs at his face with the palm of his hand, yawning slowly before he pushes back his hair and watches. He’s only in his sweatpants—the gray color bunched as the un-tied waistband hangs at his hips. Blinking at you, a slow twitch goes across the man’s lips as he leans to the side, his shoulder to the door frame.

He doesn’t speak—doesn’t utter anything as his arms cross over his chest and you continue your shapeless tune. Phillip isn’t a good man; he isn’t worthy of care or compassion. He’s done things that will follow him to his grave, the one he’d been digging himself since long before he met you. But there were moments like these where the light hit your body just right; where the house was silent and the floors were soft underfoot.

Tiny moments that echoed like a call to home.

You place the wine glass upside down to let the water drip out, wringing out the wash rag and unplugging the sink. You’d only begun washing your hands when your ears twitch to movement. A smile peels your lips.

“Mornin’,” Phillip mutters into your hair, hands sneaking around you until you’re held back to a bare chest.

“Good morning,” you whisper, flicking off the water on your fingers. Your heart is light. “Sleep well?”

He hums, squeezing you gently.

“Come back t’bed.” Your chuckle makes him smile, eyes crinkling.

“Phillip, I just got up.”

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” he pleads but doesn’t give you time to respond, arms bending to capture your legs and the span of your shoulders. You laugh as he hikes you into his hold—carrying you before your arms snap around his neck; curling into him. “Up ya get.”

“Really?” Your amused voice makes him look at you, raising one of his pale blows as he smirks softly. He brings you back to bed, tendrils of hair bouncing along the way.

“Up and disappeared. You always leave the men with cold sheets and a yearnin’ in their hearts?” You roll your eyes, giggling into his neck. “You’ll be stickin’ right beside me today, Doll. That’s an order.”

All you do is kiss the corner of his mouth before he drops you both back onto the mattress.

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werepuppy-steve · 11 months

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Between discovering the Russian bunker under Starcourt, discovering their plans to get into the Upside Down, being caught by said Russians and tortured, after making sure Dustin and Erica got out of there, Steve was confident that this was an isolated incident.

Hopper had assured them that El had closed the gate at Hawkins Lab, saw it with his own eyes. So maybe if they (he, Robin, Dustin, and Erica) dealt with this one on their own, it wouldn’t be so bad. There were no monsters this time, at least.

Steve had naive hope that the others wouldn’t have to get involved.

But as the four of them are chased through the mall by a big guy with a gun, Steve and Robin still coming down from a truth serum high, his hope turns into dread.

Because a show car is suddenly flung from the floor and into the group of Russians that have them cornered behind a counter in the food court, and there’s only one person he knows with the ability to do that.

They all slowly peer over the counter, and sure enough, El is standing at the forefront, her hand extended in front of her and her nose bleeding. The other kids plus Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie are with her. Steve’s stomach drops and the nauseating feeling from earlier is back, but it’s not from the drugs this time.

Eddie makes a beeline toward him and Robin while Dustin greets the others with enthusiasm, Erica a little starstruck over El.

“What the hell happened?” Eddie demands, eyes flitting frantically all over Steve’s face and taking in the worst of the damage. Steve knows he must look like shit– he can’t see that great out of his left eye and that whole side of his face has gone numb.

Billy bashing his face in last year has nothing on the pain he’s feeling now.

“It’s a long story,” Steve says as he leans heavily into Eddie’s space. Eddie’s hands land on his shoulders and he holds him gently, like he’s afraid of hurting him even more. “I’ll tell you after this is all over.”

“Steve–”

“Teddy.” Steve pulls back and looks him in the eye, as well as he can. He must have not puked everything out of his system like Robin thought because he still feels a little giddy when he reaches up and taps Eddie on the nose. “Later. I promise.”

There’s really no time to say anything else because Robin and Erica need to be brought up to speed about everything and he and Dustin need to be caught up on what’s happening now, and when they are, Steve desperately wishes that it was just the Russians they had to deal with.

Help comes in the form of Hopper, Ms. Byers, and a balding man that Steve’s never met. While they’re all squabbling and trying to come up with a half baked plan, Eddie finds a first aid kit in one of the kitchens and makes Steve sit on a counter so he can try to patch him up. They don’t speak, but Steve grips Eddie’s unoccupied hand while Eddie stands close between his legs.

There isn’t much time between then and everybody splitting off into groups. Scoops Troop plus Eddie all pile into the TODFTHR (“You sure you’re her daddy, sweetheart?” Eddie teases with a smirk and Steve’s glad the bruising hides his blush.)

Everything gets a little fuzzy after they leave the kids at Weathertop. When he’s asked later, he’ll say he remembers hearing that song from that one movie, but he’s not sure if it actually happened. He’s so hyped up on adrenaline, it’s probably the only thing keeping him conscious.

Steve doesn’t remember making the decision to t-bone Billy’s car, but he does remember the horrific scene inside the mall; the Mindflayer screeching and its tentacle-like appendages swinging this way and that. He remembers pelting it with explosives to distract it from attacking El. He looks down and his stomach lurches when he sees the monster go straight through Billy’s chest.

He hears Eddie let out a strangled curse beside him and Steve has to ignore the bile rising in his throat. He knows there’s been casualties; Barb in ‘83, Ms. Byers’ boyfriend last year, however many people the Mindflayer had killed this year.

This is the first death he’s ever seen in person.

He’s still reeling from it when Owens and the military swarm the building once the monster is finally defeated. They’re all pulled in separate directions for medical attention and questioning. Steve feels downright miserable, sitting in the back of an ambulance with Robin, a shock blanket over his shoulders. He squeezes her hand and gives her a small smile.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” he says.

Robin takes a shaky breath. “Yeah. I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of it. I think for once in my life, I’m speechless.”

Eddie finds them after he’s been looked over and Steve opens his arms to pull him in for a hug, wrapping both of them in the blanket. Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead and Steve sags against him. They take a moment to breathe each other in, basking in the fact that they’re both alive.

“They want to take us to the hospital,” Steve says. “They’re pretty sure I have a concussion but they want to run tests to make sure there isn’t any other damage.” He nods to Robin. “And they wanna keep us under 24 hour observation 'cause of the drugs.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, eyes sliding shut.

Steve frowns and uses the corner of the blanket to brush against Eddie’s cheek comfortingly. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a grimace. “This probably wasn’t how you were expecting to spend your birthday.”

Eddie turns his head and kisses his fingers. “No, baby,” he says. “Absolutely nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Had me and Wayne worried sick when you didn’t come home last night, though. I was close to callin’ Hopper when Lucas started screaming code red over the radio.”

Steve doesn’t want to think about how that probably worried them even more. “Your present’s in my car,” he says instead. “You can’t have it until I’m discharged, though. I wanna see your face when you open it.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “That just makes me even more curious, sweetheart.”

He pinches Steve’s side playfully, but gently. Steve stifles a giggle and leans into him more, very aware of how Robin’s watching them like a hawk.

“No peeking,” Steve warns, pointing a finger in Eddie’s face. “It’s a surprise.”

Eddie only nips at his finger. Steve doesn’t even blink. Sighing, Eddie releases his finger and marks a cross over his heart. “I promise I won’t do any snooping.”

Steve pats his cheek. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a shit liar, Munson?”

They break into giggles, their heads bent forward, and Eddie would’ve leaned in for a kiss if it weren’t for Robin clearing her throat rather loudly. Steve curls into Eddie’s front, Eddie’s arm going around his shoulders. God, he’d give anything to be at home and asleep in their bed.

“I’m still very confused about this whole thing,” Robin says, waving a hand in their direction. “I just fought a monster from a whole other dimension, but this is probably the biggest shocker of my life.”

“Strange things follow this group around like a shadow,” Eddie says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. And for him, it is. “You better get used to it, Buckley, 'cause you’re one of us now.”

written and originally posted for @flowercrowngods birthday 🤍 dio is an absolute treasure and a great friend to have and is my #1 gseb stan. happy belated birthday!!! 💙

🥐☕💕 buy me a coffee?

#cj talks #gseb #steddie #steddie ficlet #dio 🤍#steddie fic #cj writes

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darksigns-exe · 4 months

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Together: Noah Sebastian

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x f!reader Warning: Swearing, mutual masturbation (fingering (f recieving), handsjobs (m recieving) Word Count: 2.2k Note: Welcome to part 2 of this little series with @malice-ov-mercy @deathblacksmoke and @circle-with-me <3

Read the rest here: Folio Ruffilo Jolly

Summer has really settled in as skin sticks to skin, and you swear that you’ve never felt warmer in your life. It’s been blazing hot for most of the week, and thankfully you’ve been able to spent most of that time with your feet dangling in the pleasantly warm water of a pool. One of the many upsides that comes with having a decently famous rock star of a boyfriend.

You’re in the fortunate position that you can do most of your work from home, meaning that you’ve been answering emails from your lounge chair. Noah has been in and out of the house, frantically preparing for their next release. You know that he’s been hard at work with it, pouring most of his hours into it, just so everything is perfect. You admire his work ethic, but you can tell that he’s starting to wear thin. The boy needs a break, but he hardly listens to you when it comes to that.

He knows his limits, you tell yourself.

All in the hopes that he actually does.

Your attention is caught by the sound of his voice in the living room behind you. A quick look over your shoulder tells you that he’s in the middle of a phone call. He looks awfully bored with it and when he finds you look at him an idea pops into your head.

You place your laptop down behind yourself, before you assemble a quick plan. Noah is, at his core, still a guy, and a predictable one at that. It doesn't take a lot to get his attention. He’ll be easy prey with how bored he looks pacing around your living room.

With your plan assembled, you get up from your lounge chair. The oversized t-shirt that you’d plucked from your closet that morning barely reaches the top of your thigh, and really that makes it perfect for what you have in mind. You slip through the opening in the sliding door without him noticing. His back is still turned towards you when you close it as quietly as you can.

Noah flashes you a quick smile when he finally notices you. You wave your fingers at him, head cocked to the side as you watch him. His reply to the person on the other end of the line rushes past your head as you trace your fingers up the tops of your thighs. His eyes follow the ascent of your fingers. You can tell that Noah has long stopped listening to whoever is on the other end of the line.

Your fingers rise even higher, grazing across your tummy and the waist line of your bikini bottoms. His eyes flicker between yours and the skin your fingers dance across. His replies come slower, less focused.

You decide that now is the right time to slip off the shirt. You wait until his focus is on your face before your fingers curl around the bottom hem. His breath catches in his throat when you begin to lift it as slowly as you can manage. He watches intently as your hand drifts up your now exposed tummy.

You sigh when your fingers skim over a sensitive spot. Across from you, Noah mutters an answer, clearly distracted by what you’re doing in front of him.

Finally, you pull the shirt over your head. The fabric drops to the ground next to you, and it feels as if a brick drops and shatters the tile beneath your feet. For a brief second, you feel insecure, but then the weight of his gaze settles on your mostly bare body and the feeling quickly fades away again. Seeing how you affect him always makes your confidence soar.

“What? Sorry, I didn’t hear that.” you hear him rush out.

His struggle brings a smile to your face. You feel awfully wicked teasing him like this, but you know that he’d easily play you in the same way if he’d have the chance.

You trail your fingers across your chest, making a conscious effort to let them pass over your nipple. You reach behind your back, finding the tie of your bikini top. His chest rises and falls with laboured breaths and when you let your eyes drift lower your thought is confirmed. His shorts are already visibly tented, and that gives you the last bit of confidence you needed to let the top fall, too.

“Fucking – hell.” Noah mutters below his breath.

His hand presses against his crotch in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. Feeling fuelled by that, you pull the tie of your bottoms loose as well. Noah draws in a deep breath. His eyes darken, narrowing as he tries to keep his focus on the call.

His focus wavers for a moment when you dip your fingers between your thighs. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. The touch of your finger pulls a sigh from your lips. You take your time with it, drawing slow circles across your clit.

It feels a little forbidden to touch yourself while he is speaking to what you assume is a representative of the label. You know that he would have long ended the call if it wouldn’t be important. Noah slumps down the side of the sofa that is closest to him. You follow, sitting across from him, just out of his reach. It’s a little diabolical.

You pull one leg up onto the cushions, giving him a perfect view of your body. He goes quiet when you trace a single finger across your slit. His hand returns to the tent in his shorts. This time it stays for longer. To amp up the stakes, you dip a finger between your lips, before bringing them back to your already soaked pussy. You don’t try to silence yourself, not when your little game is just starting to become fun.

The slow, teasing circles around your clit make your skin heat up. It’s all so precarious, if he lets out one wrong noise, the person on the other end of the line will know what you’re up to. You know he won’t, you know that he can keep his composure if he has to. One hand comes up to cup your breast, fingers teasing across your nipple. The fingers of your other hand tip into your hole, and you have to fight against your instinct to close your eyes. You need to see everything. You need to see how you affect him.

Noah’s hand gives a firm squeeze to his cock. The poor boy is suffering, but he’s nowhere near desperate enough for your taste yet. You watch as his hand dips behind the waist band of his shorts. He sighs, but quickly catches himself with a startled cough.

“No– no, I’m fine.” he rushes out, “Wrong pipe.”

His obvious struggle makes you chuckle, and he shoots you a glare in response. You’re not as easy to affect as he is, though. This is your game, he’s just a pawn in it.

A second finger joins the first, and you moan, entirely unashamed, at the stretch. The hand that is stuffed inside his shorts flexes as he returns his focus to the call for a moment.

“Listen, I’m sorry something just came up. I’m going to have to call you back.” he struggles to keep an even, unaffected tone. It’s endearing.

You’re sure that he ends the call before the other person has a chance to say goodbye. His cell drops to the cushion as he lets out a groan.

“You’re evil.” he sighs, “The devil.”

He remains still for a moment, before he begins to get up. You click your tongue at him, shaking your head.

“Stay there.”

Noah’s eyes widen, cheeks flushing with the realisation of what you have in mind for him.

“Go on, you’re awfully overdressed.”

You’re not entirely sure where this confidence comes from, but you’re glad that it’s here nevertheless. His shirt comes off before you’ve had the chance to register it. A moment later, he’s struggling out of his shorts and underwear, quiet swears breaking from his lips as the garments refuse to cooperate.

His eyes fall shut as his hand closes around his aching cock. You can only imagine how good it must feel for him to finally get a little relief without having to hold back.

“Touch yourself, honey.” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

Despite the distance, you’ve rarely felt closer to him. It feels a little like the times you’ve gotten yourself off while on the phone, except that now you actually get to see what he looks like. This is a rare treat.

Noah takes another deep breath, before his hand begins to move. It’s slow, and you can tell that he has a tight grip on himself. And with his eyes focused so intently on where your fingers curl inside your pussy, you like to think that he’s imagining himself buried there instead. His free hand grips into one of the cushions.

You find yourself aching for more. But as much as you want to give in to the need and crawl over to him, you stay strong. Instead, you work a third finger into yourself.

“That feel good?” he asks.

His voice is so rough with it already, and his breath hitches when you nod.

You have to slow yourself a little. A soft little noise breaks from you when your fingers find that spot.

“So good.” you reply in a moan.

His hand stops just below the head of his cock. It’s a tight clutch, and you know that he’s trying to keep his end at bay.

Noah’s eyes find yours. God, he looks so worn down already. His brow is in a constant furrow, cheeks tinged pink as he bites down harshly on his bottom lip.

You readjust your position, pushing yourself forward just a little more so that he can see even more of you. The noise that falls from him is not far from a whimper.

“Baby please.” he sighs, “Can I — let me touch you?”

He sounds so awfully desperate for you that you almost want to give in. Almost. He’s been so good for you up until now.

You stretch your leg to nudge your foot against is knee in an attempt to get him to shift. Noah understands what you want and moves his thighs just a little bit further apart. He thrusts up into his hand, the movement eased by the slick of the precum leaking from his tip. You can tell that he’s close. Another whine falls from him, a needy little sound that makes you want to call him over to you. You know that he’ll be between your thighs immediately if you’d ask him. He’d fall to his knees in front of you, face buried in your heat.

The thought spurs you on, fingers moving faster now, pressing against your walls more intently.

He keens, whines around the prayer of your name. The coil in your belly feels almost too tight now. Seeing him so close to falling apart sends your mind into overdrive. Your thumb presses against your clit and your walls tighten in response.

“I’m – I’m not gonna last.” he whines, “Please, baby.”

You need a moment to keep yourself together.

“What do you need?” you choke the words out, barely able to keep up this cool façade.

His hips buck up into his fist, thighs shaking. He’s right on the edge now.

“Need you closer. You’re so far away.”

You can’t deny him that, not when you’re so desperate to feel his skin against yours. In the blink of an eye, you’re kneeling on the cushion next to him. You grip into his bare shoulder with one hand, trying to keep yourself upright as you return your fingers to where they had been before. You can’t stop the moan that falls from your lips when your fingers settle inside of you. Noah’s hand finds your waist in an almost too tight grip.

It won’t take either of you long now. You try your best to match his tempo. It’s a slow grind, barely moving with the overwhelming sensation of it all. His hand quickly migrates from your waist up to the side of your face so that he can pull you in for a kiss. He whines against your lips. The hand behind your head keeps you close against him. His breath catches, body freezing up entirely. You don’t have to check to know that he’s spilling across his hand and belly.

Your own release hits you a moment later. Your body collapses against his as you both work yourselves through your orgasms. Your fingers curl against yourself until it suddenly becomes too much.

Noah lets out a deep breath, before he kisses you again.

You’re silent for a long moment, the only sound that fills your living room is the laboured breathing that falls from both of you. You shift, finding a slightly more comfortable position against Noah’s side. His body is so warm. He’s slicked with sweat, and you swear that he’s never been more beautiful.

“Good?” you finally ask.

He huffs out a laugh, “More than good.”

“Shower?”

He pulls away a little, so that he can look at you properly, “We’re not finished here yet, baby. I still want to get between those pretty thighs.”

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian x f!reader #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fic

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loveinhawkins · 2 years

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Part 1

The walk passes slowly, as if the length of the tracks has more than doubled since the last time he was here. It seems longer than a couple of years ago, when Steve had strolled alongside him, talking about Farrah Fawcett spray.

Dustin kind of feels like he’s following a breadcrumb trail that he can’t see—like his body already knows where to go before his mind does.

He finds that the junkyard isn’t all that different; the only discernible difference is that the bus they once took refuge in is no longer there. It means that there’s more empty space, his eyes darting around until he lands on Steve, who’s sat with his back pressed up against the wheel of a rusty, broken down car—clearly not bothering to take shelter from the rain.

The relief at the sight of Steve is short-lived; as he nears the car, Dustin starts to get a sinking feeling, like when he reads a detective story and the mystery is solved too soon—there’s too many pages left.

So he doesn’t rush over, moves slow and steady, one step at a time. And he starts to notice…

Steve is dressed in a threadbare T-shirt, and his sweatpants look old and worn, a few inches too short around the ankles. As Dustin gets within touching distance, he realises that Steve must be wearing what he’d gone to sleep in last night.

“Steve?” Dustin says hesitantly.

Steve doesn’t respond, but his eyebrows furrow in a vague way, as if he’s heard Dustin, albeit distantly. His hair is damp from the mist and rain, his sneakers mud-stained. He doesn’t have socks on.

Dustin wonders how long he’s been out here.

“Hey,” he tries, crouches down in front of him. Slow and steady, he repeats inside his head. Like he’d been with Eddie in the boathouse.

He’s never seen Steve like this, but he knows that people can get stuck in places, like El in the lab and Will in The Upside Down—stuck in their head long after they’d physically left.

Dustin doesn’t know where Steve is stuck, exactly. Just knows he needs to bring him back.

He clears his throat.

Steve’s eyes land on Dustin’s face—obliquely, but it’s enough to spur Dustin on.

“Remember the last time we were here?”

A pause. There’s a flicker of Steve in the slightest of wry smiles tugging at his mouth. “Your poor cat, dude.”

His voice is brittle, like each word is an effort.

Dustin smiles back. He thinks for a moment, then mimes swinging a bat, relieved when Steve’s eyes actually follow the movement.

“You were awesome.”

And it surprises him—not the sincerity, that’s a given, but the fact that he’s not said such a thing out loud for a while. Well, he reasons, at least not to Steve himself.

Pre-Vecna Eddie would roll his eyes any time the conversation circled back round to Dustin raving about Steve—but in the RV, as Steve swung them onto the open road, Eddie had turned to Dustin with the widest of grins. He furtively nodded towards Steve in the driver’s seat, then said with a breathless laugh, “You were right, man. Incredible.”

Steve makes a small sound that’s more of a gasp than a laugh. Shakes his head. “Yeah, I’m—” He swallows. “Don’t think I’m that guy anymore.”

What do you mean? Dustin thinks. I’m looking right at him.

But he doesn’t say it.

He doesn’t say it, because now he can see why each word Steve speaks seems to come at a cost. His chest is rising and falling erratically, his breathing quick and shallow.

And he’s shaking.

His hands are clenched into fists, knuckles turning white—like he’s focused so much on trying to keep still that it’s making him tremble anyway.

Slowly, slowly, Dustin moves the tiniest bit closer. His hand barely touches Steve’s before he draws back sharply, hitting his head against the body of the car.

“Sorry,” Dustin says quietly, raising his hands just a little, hopefully just enough for him to register as not being a threat.

He remembers Eddie in the boathouse again, when he’d sank down to the floor, the fight gone clean out of him—the danger of him hurting Steve having passed, but Dustin still being afraid that Eddie would accidentally cut himself with the glass bottle, his hands were shaking so much.

“No, I’m—” Steve sighs, tips his head up with a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s…” He looks at Dustin, finally meets his gaze properly. “I—I think.” Another sharp breath. “Dustin, I—I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“What? No, there’s—”

But Steve continues like he hasn’t even heard him. “No, no, there’s—like, something’s gone wrong, dude, really wrong. I-inside me. I’m fucked in the head.”

He grits his teeth.

And as Dustin scrambles for a response, Steve covers his face with his hands. His breathing shudders.

It takes a few seconds for Dustin to realise that Steve is crying—crying and trying to hide it, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes so fiercely that it must hurt, like he can somehow will away the tears.

“Steve,” Dustin says, and for a long moment feels completely useless. He’s never seen… he doesn’t know how the hell to approach this.

He’s used to Steve’s spiky brand of kindness, used to the eye rolls, the exasperated, “Dude, how many times, not on the inside,” when Dustin wipes his feet in his car, all the while insisting that he drive Dustin home whenever it rains.

But he doesn’t know what Steve needs from him.

Then Steve’s breathing starts to hitch, more than just the uneven rhythm of sobs; his hands fall away, and Dustin catches a flare of panic in his eyes.

It’s familiar. Makes him think of Will, how his eyes go wide sometimes, how Joyce will murmur, “Breathe with me, hon, it’ll pass. You’re okay.”

This time, when Dustin reaches for Steve’s hand, he doesn’t flinch. Instead Steve clings on, almost like it’s a reflex—like he’s at the edge of a cliff, and Dustin is pulling him back.

“Just breathe with me,” Dustin says. He over-exaggerates his breathing, takes Steve’s hand and places it over his chest so it can be felt.

“C-can’t,” Steve says.

This, at least, Dustin can work with.

“Okay, I know right now it feels like you can’t, but you totally can. Come on, would I lie to you?”

Steve shakes his head, manages a faint smile even as he wheezes—and Dustin is glad to know that even through Steve’s fear, their trust in one another remains a mutually understood thing.

“Look at my track record,” Dustin adds, “I’m always right.”

Steve catches his breath enough to chuckle, just for a split second. “Smart… ass.”

Dustin tsks. “Delirious. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

But what he means is I’m gonna sit with you for as long as you need.

He doesn’t know how long it takes, realises too late that he’d forgotten to check his watch when he’d started walking. He hopes Eddie is only mildly freaking out.

Steve moves his hand away, uses it to push back his hair, sticking to his forehead from a combination of rain and sweat. But it’s only when Dustin fails to suppress an involuntary shiver that Steve startles, snaps back into action. Wipes roughly at his face, then nods to himself as if to say Enough now.

“We should go.”

And he stands with only a little jerkiness, takes barely a second to lean against the car before he’s setting off. He looks behind his shoulder expectantly, and Dustin follows.

He doesn’t know how to feel. Relieved, maybe, that Steve feels secure enough to lead the way. Concerned—because the sudden return to ‘normality’ is happening too soon; he can feel it.

As they get off the railroad tracks, begin to approach the edge of the woods, Dustin hears Eddie before he sees him—the clatter and rustle of him repeatedly dropping the flashlight, his muffled curses.

Steve doesn’t seem to notice, has drifted back into silence, blinking down at the forest floor.

Eddie comes into view, and when he sees them, he just. Stops.

“You can’t keep track of time for shit,” he tells Dustin, and his voice shakes a bit in the middle.

Steve’s head raises at that. He blinks slowly. “Eddie?”

“The one and only,” Eddie says as he steps forward, comes to a halt right in front of Steve.

And Dustin doesn’t even take a crack at how incredibly uncool that reply was, because Eddie’s eyes are flickering across Steve’s face, his clothes, like he’s putting a few more puzzle pieces together, ones that Dustin can’t see.

Eddie’s hand lightly touches Steve’s shoulder, no doubt feeling that the thin T-shirt is practically soaked through by now.

“Oh, you’re freezing,” Eddie says softly. “C’mon.”

And Eddie leads the way back to the roadside. He doesn’t touch Steve again, but his hand hovers occasionally, like he can sense that Steve might need someone to lean on.

But Steve never does.

They don’t talk, not until they reach Eddie’s van. And Steve’s car.

“The… the keys,” Steve says. It sounds flat, but only in the sense that he might not have the energy to sound panicked, even when he is.

“Right here,” Eddie says quickly. He takes them out of his jeans pocket. “Safe and sound.”

He offers them, palm open. But Steve doesn’t move. Dustin sees his jaw work a few times.

Then Steve stretches out his hand—he doesn’t take the keys, just leaves it hanging in the air. He’s shaking again.

“Eddie, I don’t think I can-” He cuts himself off, exhales. Drops his hand back down to his side. “Don’t think I can drive.”

He’s talking out the side of his mouth. It almost sounds like he’s embarrassed over Dustin potentially hearing.

Like Dustin would ever think of him differently.

Dustin kind of wants to yell at him, kind of doesn’t. Wants to hug him.

Above all, wants to make Steve understand that he doesn’t ever have to drive people around again. It doesn’t matter, none of it does, because Dustin will love him regardless.

“Okay,” Eddie says. He gestures to Steve’s car. “You trust me with—?”

“Yeah,” Steve says before Eddie has finished speaking, as if he’s answering another question.

“Okay,” Eddie repeats. “How about… you two watch over my van? And I’ll drive the car to yours.”

“How’re you gonna get back here?” Dustin asks.

Eddie shrugs. “Walk?” Then he laughs slightly. “Nah, just kidding. I’ll hitch a ride.”

“Eddie,” Steve says warningly, and honestly Dustin gets it: the town might’ve largely cooled off, sure, but that doesn’t mean most people would tolerate giving Eddie a lift anywhere.

But Eddie just tuts, ushering them over to the van and flinging the door open. Steve seems to follow on automatic pilot, heads inside and sits with his back pressed against the interior, posture like it was in the junkyard. Rigid.

Eddie watches Steve’s movements, and Dustin catches him biting his lip. But he stops as soon as Steve looks his way, gives a gentle kind of smile.

“I’ll be fine, there and back,” Eddie says. “Honestly, Harrington, haven’t you heard? I’m very charming.”

And Eddie steps away, Steve’s keys in hand—but not before giving Dustin a look that he knows means that instead of watching over the van, his instructions are to watch over Steve.

#okay this’ll most likely be 3 parts now. um i think #steve and dustin #dustin henderson fic #steddie with dustin’s pov #steve harrington #dustin henderson #eddie and dustin #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #henderfam

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

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Bad For Business: Level One

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [1.3K] An enemies to lovers au. Arcade coworkers, who love to hate each other, get too competitive about Dig Dug and share a mutal annoyance for the kids that like to pester them. Choose your own adventure by picking an option at the end of the chapter.

“You’re late.”

“No I’m not.”

You were. Twenty five minutes, in fact, and your stomach was still swirling from the night before, remnants of cheap beer and cheaper vodka mixing unhappily with the cold, strawberry pop-tart you’d force fed yourself on the way to work.

Steve Harrington leant against the wall with a grin as he watched you struggle to clock in, the old machine chewing up your employee card before it finally stamped it. You pushed past him, shoulder into his in a way that was awfully familiar now. The blunt words, the eye rolls, the semi serious acts of violence all part of your work day and they had been since last summer. He didn’t give in to you, arms colliding, the smell of his cologne now on your T-shirt too.

“Hungover?” Steve asked, enjoying the way you squinted against the harsh, fluorescent strip lights.

The office was much quieter than the arcade outside of the staff doors and you were trying your best to stay away from the sounds of Super Mario and Pac-Man for as long as you could. Except Steve wasn’t making it easy.

“No,” you lied again. You were so hungover, stupidly hungover. And tired. You’d barely managed to crawl back through your bedroom window when the sun was beginning to rise, the summer outside starting back up as the sky turned apricot and the birds sang. Eddie had walked you home, both of you sharing the last dregs from a lukewarm beer before he bent at the waist and let you use his back as a footstool, groaning and swearing at you as you took too long to grab the end of the broken trellis. “What’s with the fucking interrogation, Harrington? Did Murray die and leave you in charge?”

Outside the office, the arcade machines jingled, beeping and ringing with each win and loss, the constant clinkclinkclink of quarters being dropped into the coin slots, the yells of sugared up kids making your head pound.

“Nah,” Steve’s grin only widened, an almost smirk that made you grit your teeth together. You busied yourself at your locker, shoving your bag into the too small space, the rattle of the metal hurting your very being. “Seeing you each morning is just the best part of my day.”

You rolled your eyes at Steve’s blatant lie, snorting at the possibility you could both be anything close to friends. Steve Harrington lived to annoy you, and had done since middle school. He spent the first couple of grades annoying you at recess, pulling your hair and snickering with his friends when you yelled, all pink cheeked and shocked looking when you stomped towards him, indignant, shoving the heel of your buttercup yellow shoe into his toes.

It went on like that, spitballs launched from each end of the classroom, backs of chairs kicked and faces pulled at the other during presentations. Then you both got older and the words got colder, scathing remarks made in the hallway, lockers defaced with semi serious insults and potential dates ruined by mocking comments said in front of crushes.

Then high school was over, Hawkins seemed to get smaller and the only job available to get you enough cash to leave the tiny, backwater town was a position beside Steve at Upside Down Arcade. Run by someone who everyone only knew as Murray - a man who had absolutely no time for anyone under the age of twenty five and was utterly inept with technology - the arcade was a staple in Hawkins. As permanent a feature as the community pool, the town hall and the library; the brown brick building looked bland from the street outside, but stepping in the doors led kids into a maze of gaming machines, air hockey tables and neon lights.

The carpets had seen better days, the Space Invaders themed pattern a headache of dulled yellows, purples reds and greens, the painted black walls barely seen behind the rows and rows of games, all brightly light and beeping, illuminations flashing pink and blue, leaderboard charts mocking on the screens.

It smelled like burnt sugar and stale popcorn, despite the machine not having worked for over a decade. A heavy mix of all things bad for you: sour candy, old hotdogs, cherry slush stains and pre-teen hormones.

“If I’m somehow even bringing you the slightest bit of joy with my presence, Harrington,” you deadpanned, “then I’m doing it wrong.” You slammed the locker door shut and smirked when Steve had to yank his hand back, fingers narrowly avoided.

He narrowed his eyes at you, moving only to grab his name badge from the board, making sure he knocked yours onto the floor when he shoved the bundle of keys into his pocket that opened up all the coin slots.

“Murray’s not in until later, Donkey Kong is fried and oh,” he clicked his fingers and pointed a digit at you, all faux sympathy making his face soften. “I knocked you off the top spot on Dig Dug. Again.”

You glared. Steve grinned.

You wanted to say something sharp, something witty and mean, but your head was still pounding and your throat felt like the Sahara Desert. “Bite me, Steven,” you muttered instead, shoving past the boy so you could get out the door first, for no other reason than simply to feel like you’d won something.

Steve was too close behind you when he answered, all charm and flirt, the cadence of his voice dropped to the level he used when he flirted with the older girls that brought in their baby siblings.

“Bend over then, Princess Peach,” he cooed, “at least lemme see what I’m working with.” His voice was at your ear, his stupid hair tickling at your cheek.

The stupid nickname made your nostrils flare, but the suggestive comment before it had your toes curling. You scoffed, shocked, because as the summer crawled by and the heat got higher, you and Steve’s snipes were getting more and more below the belt.

But that was his bravest yet.

You didn’t bother turning round, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, and Jesus, you were sure your cheeks were flushed - but if he dared comment on it, you would’ve blamed it on the hangover you told him you didn’t have.

“You’re a pig,” you bit out, ignoring how he kept close behind you as you finally braved opening the door.

The arcade was already full to the brim, bursting with kids, a line of them at the desk, ticket stubs clutched in sticky hands, dollar bills ready to be exchanged for bags full of coins. The door almost hit Steve when you let it go behind you, his hands barely catching it as he scowled at your retreating figure. You planned to lurk in the darkest corner of the arcade for your entire shift, maybe sipping on a stolen slurpee, biding your time and waiting for your headache to soften enough in order to conjure a formulated attack on the Dig Dug machine.

You turned around just before Steve served the first customer, narrowing your eyes at him in suspicion. He was already behind the cash register, Erica Sinclairs bundle of tickets in his hands as the girl pointed at a toy sword in the cabinet.

“And don’t even try and pretend you haven’t looked before,” you called back to him, smug and referring to his lewd comment before. “Oh, ‘lemme see what I’m working with’,” you mimicked. “You’re not sly, asshole.”

A few kids tittered at the insult, Dustin Henderson snorting especially loud, but some gasped at how you cursed in front of them, a sure fire way to know there’d be a hand written complaint about on Murray’s desk tomorrow. You’d hoped your jab would make Steve shrink, maybe blush like he used to when you got all brave and bold with him. Shit, maybe he’d even had the right to look ashamed.

But he simply shrugged, tongue pushed to the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smirking at you but his expression was still the same.

Pleased. Too cocky. Challenging.

You went straight to Dig Dug.

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

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