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777heavengirl · 2 months ago

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bags

sirius black x reader (no longer just a one shot :3 ) ! warnings: the good kind of yearning.., friends to roommates to ?lovers?, bittersweetie, no war!au words count: 2,549 masterlist

a/n: might make a series of little blurbs as a continuation... undecided so lmk what u think!!!

Being friends with Sirius Black was the worst idea you could've ever had. It was hell. He was charming, awfully so. Flirty and caring with his friends in a way that made your heart skip a beat and your breath catch in your throat. He was the type of friend with no physical boundaries, his legs often thrown over yours, his arms often over your shoulders, lips whispering jokes into your ear.

It was an even worse idea to agree to move in with him after you graduated. James had gone off with Lily and Remus and Peter decided to split an apartment. Sirius, naturally, found one in the same building and dropped the twin key in your hand on graduation day, a wicked smile on his face. He hadn't even properly asked you. He had assumed, well he hoped, that you'd accept no matter what. He knew you had no other plans, no other place to go. He knew you'd love to because he knew you. Because he was your best friend.

So he didn't ask. The small silver dog keychain attached to the key was enough for you.

The answer was always going to be yes.

Living with Sirius meant a lot of things. It meant an abnormal amount of blankets and cushions thrown about, it meant the ever-growing collection of pictures framed on your walls or merely pasted on if Sirius had his way. Ever since Lily gifted him a muggle camera for graduation, he hadn't stopped taking pictures. Of your friends, of you in the kitchen or on your couch, your first night in the apartment he took pictures of your every move. He titled them all, in the back or on the bottom of it.

Darling brushing her teeth, 1st night in #717. You smiled through your toothbrush, shirt askew, with pajama pants that did not match in the slightest.

Doll’s first tea in #717 You couldn't see your face in this one, it was a closer shot of your hands around the teacup Lily bought you fifth year, the delicate flower pattern on the hard porcelain contrasting against the soft of your skin.

He titled them all, with his cursive loops and cloying nicknames. He’d even owl copies of them to your mom— why they even communicated was beyond you— you’d then have to repeatedly remind her, when your parents phoned, that 717 was your apartment number, and no mom I am not dating Sirius, yes I know he’s a wonderful guy, yes I’ll tell him you said hello. His photography habit had gotten so bad he even took pictures of the ladybug that seemed to live in the leaves of the small English Lavander that sat on your windowsill.

Living with Sirius meant putting up with his tendency to ignore the fact that you needed to get a job, in fact, he'd drag you everywhere with him to avoid you even applying, his hand intertwined with yours, warm palms pressed against one another. He did it all the time, holding your hand, pressing a kiss against your temple when he insisted on getting into the crowded muggle metro more often than not, your bodies pressed together as he held you when the tube moved. Every time you complained, that he was holding you hostage, that at this pace you'd never find a job, he'd ask, with his head cocked to the side "Why do you have to get a job anyway? It's not like we need it"

"Sirius I need to make money," the tube shook the two of you, his arm instinctively wrapping around you to pull you closer as the other one maintained a white-knuckled grip on the bar above. "How am I going to afford anything? It’s been two years my savings are gone-"

"You don't need it though," his words were low on your ear, and carefree as if they didn't hold any importance. "I have more than enough to maintain us— for anything you might want" Your face heated, and you looked down hiding the surprise that you prayed he wouldn't see.

"I can't just bum off of you," your words were a timid mumble, and he barely heard you over the intercom announcing the station, if it wasn't because he had been tilted down close to your face, he might've not heard you at all.

"You're not bumming off of me love, I want to take care of you, yea?" he pressed a kiss to the side of your hair, and you didn't refute. Not for now. Because in moments like these, when he acted like it was the most obvious answer in the world and didn't seem to give it a second thought, you could feel the words claw at your throat from the inside. A confession poisoning you from the inside out.

But then he'd look at you.

With his gray eyes, the steel cool of them making your lungs expand wider than you thought possible and your heart beat out of your chest. So you'd decide, every time, that it wasn't the right moment. There was never a right time to tell your best friend and roommate that you were in love with him though. And through his piercing gaze, you thought he could see you using everything within you to hold back.

You guessed it could be worse.

Being in love with Sirius Black was actually the worst thing to ever happen to you. It got even worse when you moved in together. Waking up to his shirtless self making you coffee the way you liked it, his head disheveled and unruly from bed but somehow just as gorgeous as when he had it fresh and styled, his long dark locks looking nothing short of heavenly in either form. It was the intimacy really— the domesticity of it all— that screwed you. Eating your eggs and toast over the soft tunes of his music, going to the market together, his fingers eventually finding yours as his other hand carried the shopping. His laundry mixed in with yours, falling asleep on the couch together, old muggle movies playing on the TV he bought four months after moving in. You still didn't have a stand for it, it sat on two boxes full of books. Neither of you minded, there was no rush after all. But then you thought of his unpacked bags and the singular box of belongings, it had been a bit more than two years since you moved in. Two years since you started the routine of getting dragged everywhere he went, spending your days lounging around with Sirius like nothing else mattered. But his trunk still housed half his belongings. His walls had a couple of pictures he had sellotaped on, and the large David Bowie poster he had bought the summer after sixth year, yet his clothes would go in and out of his trunk, and his closet sat mostly empty save the lone leather jacket he insisted on hanging.

The thought of his lack of settling made your tummy twist in discomfort.

But, again, you guessed it could be worse. Godric forbid you ever confess.

He'd be walking out the door with his bags.

You decided you'd be okay with letting it all rot inside of you. You didn't want to be too forward or rush into things when you, practically, knew he didn't feel the same. So you savored it, with everything you had in you. The stolen touches and even more stolen glances. The kiss he pressed against your cheek when he'd say goodbye, apparating away to go drink the night away with the rest of the marauders, James escaping from his soon-to-be father duties for a few hours. Sirius would press a kiss to your flushed cheeks when you'd go out with Lily as well, a small stay safe love, escaping his lips right before you slipped out the door.

"Tell him how I feel? Is pregnancy melting your brain, Lily?" You almost spit out your sweet cocktail. Lily flicked your forehead.

"My brain is perfectly fine thank you very much," She huffed, the corners of her lips aching to break into a smile as she rubbed a hand over her pregnant belly.

"You two are practically together, you live together for Godric's sake" Marlene scoffed over her beer,

"Not to mention the shared bank account-" you slapped your forehead as Dorcas let the fact that he'd been basically spoiling you for a year slip, "And I've seen the way he looks at you sweets-" Dorcas's words were slurred by the alcohol in her system, and her head resting against Marlene's shoulder. "You don't look at someone that way unless you're in love with them"

Lily almost spit out her juice as she turned to you with wide eyes. "You got a shared vault now? James and I didn't even do that yet-"

You shook your head, "No no, crap Cas-" you took a shaky breath, as Marlene shook her head in disappointment and groaned out a small You're impossible. "He just keeps paying for things, and he won't let me get a job- honest, I've tried but he keeps planning things and I just never have any time-"

"So is he holding you captive or- I just don't see why you can't get a job" The three girls looked at you, incredulous looks on their faces as you struggled to explain.

"He just keeps saying to not worry-" You hid behind your hands now, embarrassment crawling up your neck. "I don't know- It's complete rubbish, he's insistent on the fact that he wants to take care of me" The girls let out a collective 'aww', all screaming eagerly over each other

"I should've kept it all to myself" you mumbled as you raised your now-empty glass at your waitress, the older woman shooting you a nod as she went to bring you another one. The girls booed at you,

"Now that'd be no fun would it?" Lily shoved your shoulder playfully, Marlene and Dorcas giggling in agreement.

Tell him how you feel.

The thought bounced in your head as you trudged up to your apartment. Fumbling with the keys as you tried to steady yourself. But you didn't need to, as Sirius opened the door. His shirt missing and his burgundy red pajama pants sat loosely at his hips, but you knew he hadn't slept yet. Otherwise, you would've been able to tell— his hair would be a mess, as he tended to bury his head between his pillows, blocking the world away while he slept.

"I could hear you fumbling your keys from down the hall doll" you giggled as you entered, your body instinctively falling into his for a hug. He couldn't help but laugh either, your cheek pressed against his chest as you mumbled out a thank you. The couple of drinks you had made you feel more than loose, giggly and you couldn't help but let the words slip from your lips.

"I love you, terribly so" you'd probably regret such a statement in the morning.

"I love you too darling" you groaned out a no as you peeled yourself off, it poured out of you instinctively. You threw yourself on the soft couch James's parents had given the two of you. We're throwing it out anyway lovies you keep it. You were sure, by Euphemia's playful glint, that this wasn't quite the case. But you appreciated it, the plush sofa softening your intentional fall. Sirius laughed as he approached the couch, crouching next to where your face was smushed into the smooth material of the sofa. His fingers moved the hair away from your face, his eyes locking in with yours as his lips split into a lazy smile.

"Knew you'd make fun of me," You mumbled and his lips twisted into an exaggerated pout now, repressing the need to laugh and you buried your face into the cushions with another groan.

He would've been lying if he said his heart hadn't skipped a beat, a flicker of hope that maybe, you felt as he did. Maybe your heart ran quicker when he held your hand, maybe the goodnight kisses you pressed against his cheek, against his forehead meant more, maybe the smile you had given him when he presented you with the key to your shared apartment, the smile that made him feel as if he was staring straight into the sun, meant something more.

But for now, that would have to wait.

As he got you up and into the bathroom, wiping your makeup off with a damp cloth, you gave a mumbled slurred summary of your night. He made you close your eyes as he wiped away the mascara, and you listed the vague number of drinks you'd had— plus the drinks you had to make up for Lily’s inability to drink right now, Marlene’s idea of course. His fingers curled around your chin as he moved your face, and at any other moment, you would've been positively frazzled. But as you spoke of the shaky walk home after Marlene dropped you off down the street, you could only revel in his touch as he hummed along and got you ready for bed. The stubborn lipstick made his cheeks flush as he wiped at your lips repeatedly, making them look plump and if he hadn't had the ounce of self-control he still vaguely maintained he would've kissed you right there and then. But it just wasn't the time for it, there's never a right time to tell your best friend and roommate you're in love with them, is there?

Stumbling around the room with you, the pajamas he managed to get over your form as he tried not to look at you in your underwear— not that you cared at the minute— it all made his heart swell. A stolen moment for him to think on later, the small giggles that escaped your face, or the innocent clutch you had on his hand. You ran your fingers down the features of his face as he helped you lay down. He tucked you into your bed with a kiss on your cheek and a giggle erupting from your chest.

His heart ached with longing but he guessed it could be worse.

You could've said no to living with him.

You gave him a faux pout, and he mirrored it.

"What is it lovely?"

"Missed you tonight-" he could feel the crimson intensify in his cheeks at your words, but he ignored the flush and moved a stray hair away from your face.

"I missed you too love, next time let's go together yeah?" You hummed in agreement, a small love you slipping past right as your eyes fluttered shut, sleep covering you like a blanket.

"I fear I might be in love with you doll," he sighed, yet you didn't answer to his whispered confession. Your chest rose and fell steadily. Part of him was glad, the thought of your reaction to his feelings chilling him to the core. It could be worse, he thought.

Yes, he'd rather have this than nothing at all. Godric forbid he ever confesses.

You'd be walking out the door with your bags.

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starrystevie · 4 months ago

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18+ | cw: improper use of plumping lipgloss, mentions of alcohol, oral sex, it's steddie endgame i promise | crossposted on twitter

it’s no secret, steve likes making out. likes isn’t a strong enough word. he loves making out. loves grabbing hold of someone and pulling them close, loves laying over them on a couch, on a bed, hips just barely moving as he takes them apart with lips and teeth and tongue.

that doesn’t change once he’s had a few drinks either, body tingling with tequila or vodka or something equally strong that has his inhibitions thrown to the wind. he’s always able to find someone willing to dance with him, hips pressed together and arms wrapped around shoulders.

it’s usually girls, pretty things with pretty hair that draw steve in like a punch drunk happy moth to an overzealous flame. they’ll turn their heads with a flirty shy smile and follow him out to the dance floor before pressing up tight against his front.

they’ll curl their fingers into his where they rest low on their hips and keep him close. they’ll drop their heads onto his shoulder and let their breath ghost over the side of his face until he gets the all too obvious hint.

steve likes making out on a dance floor. no, not likes.

loves.

that is until his lips are covered in sticky, sweet lip gloss and he’s pulling away because his tongue is on fire, tingling from something other than alcohol and the thrill of being in a pretty girl’s mouth.

“what is that?” he yells into her ear over the bumping bass.

“sorry,” the girl says sheepishly, “it’s my lipgloss. it plumps my lips.”

she goes back in to kiss steve once more and he isn’t exactly going to deny her. her lips are pretty just like her, plump and shiny and all too inviting, so he kisses her back. the gloss is spicy on the cracks of his lips, on the tip of his tongue when he he pulls her lip in between his teeth. it’s addictive in a way. he wonders if his own lips will plump up from the contact alone.

later, when they say their drawn out goodbyes outside of the club, he’ll ask to borrow the lip gloss since his night isn’t over yet. she’ll pull it out with a grin and apply it so sweetly to her own lips and then to his. her touch is gentle and precise before she puts the tube back in her purse and then connects their lips for a final time.

steve likes to make out. no, not likes.

loves.

so he goes to a bar around the corner, robin hot on his coat tails with some blonde she picked up attached to her side, and he’ll order a vodka soda that he can sip through a straw so he doesn’t destroy his pretty glossed lips. the bar is grungy, but steve almost prefers that, able to blend into smoky shadows and dark corners while he watches the crowd.

while he watches someone in the crowd watch him back.

he has wild curly hair and handcuffs on his belt and steve swears he’s staring at his lips and the way the light is bouncing off of the gloss, but he isn’t too sure. not until there’s wild curly hair and handcuffs on a belt standing right in front of him.

steve has a different confidence with guys. maybe it’s because he has to read them a little differently. maybe its because he gets read by them a little differently, too. but flirting is flirting all the same and steve finds himself biting at his lip and licking away some of the spicy lip gloss with a wince as it burns the inside of his mouth.

curly hair handcuff guy is cuter once they start talking for a while, all animated and vibrant, a bright shiny beacon in a dingy bar. he finds out his name is eddie with a lingering handshake that means something, fingers trailing and tingling like they had a spice to them, too.

they don’t dance, but they do end up out back, sharing a cigarette as drunk people stumble around them. it’s easy enough for eddie to light, flame from the lighter sparking in his big, brown eyes.

“so steve,” he says, flicker of some other kind of spark in his eye, “where to?”

and steve knows how to do this part. he grabs the cigarette out of eddie’s mouth and puffs on it himself, blowing the smoke over his head. “is it too forward to say i don’t think i can last much longer without getting my mouth on you?”

eddie grins and lets his eyes flit down. “no. is it too forward for me to say that i’d let you do anything to me, mouth or otherwise?”

he takes the cigarette back and steve can see his trace left behind on the filter, can see when the hint of gloss hits eddie’s lips if the wrinkle of his eyebrows is anything to go off of.

he doesn’t say anything, just winks over at steve. he doesn’t say anything, just drags him into a taxi. he doesn’t say anything, just wraps a hand high over steve’s thigh, just pushes steve up against his apartment wall, just fumbles over handcuffs and pushes down his jeans.

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

if he loves making out, then he really fucking craves giving head. he feels like a cartoon animal with hearts popping out of his head as he pulls eddie’s cock out of his briefs. he licks his lips like he’s starving and regrets it when the gloss singes his tongue.

steve looks up from his knees and swipes a finger over his lips, holding it up high for eddie to see. “taste it,” he whispers.

eddie’s eyes widen, but he obediently bends his neck, tongue lolling out so he can lap at steve’s finger. “your lip gloss is spicy,” eddie says flatly as he recoils.

steve nods. “and it’s going on your cock unless you say otherwise.”

which is how steve finds himself turning eddie into a writhing mess. his hands hold onto the backs of eddie’s shaking knees as he works over his cock. his hair stings as eddie tugs on the strands. his eyes water as he sucks him in deeper and deeper into his throat, spicy lipgloss tingly on his tongue and cheeks.

“you are a fucking wonder,” eddie whines, hips humping as he grinds himself further into steve’s mouth. “just fucking made for this, huh?”

steve pulls off and spits on his cock to jack his hand over it as he pulls the head to his lips. he rubs the sensitive tip over his lips just to watch eddie twitch.

“you have no idea.”

he blows a line of cool air over the gloss that’s left there and drinks in the way eddie’s eyes roll back in his head before swallowing him back down, reveling in the spice that hits the back of his throat as he does so.

when eddie comes, he pulls steve off so he can paint his pretty, puffy, plump lips with it, dragging his cock over them to make a mess. it’s not a surprise when steve licks it off, spicy and salty and a special kind of sweet that he thinks is all eddie. he leans up to place a kiss into the thatch of hair over eddie’s cock, smearing behind come and shiny lip gloss.

“you gonna wait for me to come in my pants or can i go fuck you?”

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

and he loves giving eddie head. and he loves fucking eddie. and he loves waking up with a spicy, sticky residue on the side of his cheek after falling asleep with his head on eddie’s chest.

and maybe, just maybe, he’ll love eddie someday, too.

#writing steddie smut at work to try and get my steddie brain worms back because they have been off at war apparently #pls don't try this because i'm sure it's not an actual safe thing to do with plumping lip gloss #this is not even remotely beta read so ignore typos pls #my writing #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie smut #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #this is 30% based on a true story where i kissed a pretty girl at a bar with my plumping lip gloss on and she liked that it was spicy #it sadly didn't go anywhere after that tho

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bunnys-kisses · 4 months ago

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make amends (max's version)

max verstappen & lando norris

cw: smut/pwp, lando's gf!reader, sharing & forgiveness, dirty talk/degradation, slut shaming, language that can be taken as misogynistic, filth, big dick!max, missionary, in this one you fuck max

lando's version

bunny says: i know everything has been amended, but c'mon! c'mon!

lando knew that he fucked up majorly. it was the kind of fuck up that couldn't be overturned with a simple apology. it was the kind of fuck up that he knew that the media was going to have a frenzy over.

even though he stood his ground and thought that this was all max's fault, but deep down he knew that he'd have the give the other driver a peace offering.

that came in the form of his cute girlfriend.

"i need a favour, you know how much max means to me." lando said as he pushed his hand up the skirt of your sundress, "how about we apologize for what we did by letting him fuck you." lando gave you his best puppy-dog eyes.

you didn't notice that he was pinning the incident on the track on both of you, as if he wasn't the one in the driver's seat. that it was something that you had to amend as well. and by doing that, it meant having max between your legs.

lando approached max on media day of silverstone. if he thought convincing you was easy, it was even easier to get max onboard. he told the other driver, "my girl wants to make it up to you. for what happened. it wasn't,... right of me to do that to you . so why don't you meet us at the hotel tonight? blow some steam off, champion." lando winked at the other man and slapped him on the shoulder.

"is she okay with this?"

lando laughed, "she's insatiable. but loyal like a good puppy." he seemed a little smug, "she was actually quite happy at the chance to help. she hates when we all fight. you know what she's like."

max raised his eyebrows, "give me your room number and i'll let you know when i can come." lando texted him the room number and the thoughts of lando's cute fuck toy girlfriend were on his mind as he went about his day.

in the evening, lando was happy to dress you up for max. in all honesty his second choice was to have you all tied up. he threw a sheer two piece set at you and told you to change.

it barely covered anything and the fabric that did was sheer, you could see your nipples through them! you adjusted the strap in the bathroom mirror and thought about putting your hair up. but you knew by the end of the night you were going to be a total mess so there was zero point.

lando came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. he was shirtless in some stretchy shorts and tube socks. his clothed cock was pressed up against your back.

"no you better be good for our guest tonight." he said as he kissed your neck, "i want you to be a good girl for him. i need him to forgive us for what we did."

you nodded, "i will. i'm always good." you stuck out your bottom lip and lando grazed his hand across your barely clothed pussy. you blushed when he kissed your neck.

he held you in his arms until there was a knock at the door. he smiled and pulled away, he instructed for you to get onto the bed and stay there. you scampered away and got yourself up onto the bed.

you tried to position yourself in a seductive way but ended up sitting at the edge with your bare feet barely touching the floor. you heard lando open the door and exchange conversations with max as they went through the lavish room and into the bedroom portion.

you looked up to them in the doorway.

max's words got caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you. oh, you were just beautiful weren't you? the sight of your beautiful body on display for him. he cleared his throat and turned to lando, "i forgive you." then patted the other driver on the shoulder.

the clothes started to come off, with lando close behind. when you tried to take your lingerie off, max said, "no, i want to take it off. you just sit there and look pretty."

both men were soon undressed and you swallowed. max got you laid out on the bed, his knee between your legs. he could feel the how soaked you were through the panties as he rubbed his knee up against your pussy.

he got bored of it soon and peeled them off of you lower half, followed by the bra. max lazily dragged his fingers across your swollen clit and smirked.

"max, shit." you moaned. you wanted to cover your face but you could feel the tension in your gut. the anticipation of what was to come.

max chuckled and looked to lando who had your head in his lap, his cock pressed up against your cheek. you were basically stuck between these two men. the anticipation of what was to come felt heavy in the air.

"she's got quite the mouth on her. thought you'd train her better, norris."

lando chuckled as tapped his hard cock against your cheek, smearing precum all over the skin, "she's usually behaved. i told her to be good for you, the sake of my career is on the line."

max laughed, "you told her that.' his eyebrows raised he spoke like you weren't even in the room, "it's nothing norris, just a flare up on the track. nothing is at stake. don't like to her, she might end up running away." he continued to push his knee up against your pussy.

you whimpered, your head felt dampened by the lust coursing through your body. the way they spoke about you turned you on. powerful men who used you like a chew toy, to bite up and rut as they so desire.

"she isn't going anywhere, mate." lando held you face to look up at him. those pretty eyes were overcast with darkness as he licked his lips at the sight of you rubbing against max's thigh, "right? you're not gonna whore yourself out to any man... well at least without my permission?"

you shook your head, "i wouldn't lando, i promise!" you could feel max shift and grab you by the hips to level with his cock. you looked to the other man and realized that his size was rather impressive.

"she looks like she's not going to be able to take it." max remarked.

lando laughed and combed his fingers through your hair, "are you gonna chicken out now?"

max looked at you and licked his bottom lip, he rubbed his cock up against your entrance. you were wet, it left a string is slick connecting your pussy to his cock. max knew that the downstairs was impressive, he often made sexual partners a little nervous.

before he could sink in, lando held the silver wrapped of a condom in his face. he looked at it and then looked past it at lando.

"i'm not raising your brat, mate. and i'm not taking chances on plan b." lando handed it over and watched as max quickly opened it and put it on. lando's cock on the other hand was bear against your face, getting precum all over the apple of your cheek and eyebrow. he'd get you pregnant if he wanted, but he wasn't letting a verstappen brat run around.

max jerked his cock with the condom on before he pressed into you. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he gripped onto your hips. he sank into you and was encouraged by the noises you made.

"you trained her well. she's obedient." max remarked as he touched your face. he then went in for a searing kiss as he started to fuck you. missionary was a little vanilla but he wanted to look at lando's little girlfriend as he fucked the hell out of her.

his thrusts were short and hard, his cock bulled its way into the back of your cunt and had your cheeks feeling heated. your core throbbed as he thrust more and more.

"well, training her was ea-sy!" lando beamed with pride, "turns out she's a hungry little when it comes to cum. she's a little freak like that." he patted your cheek a little harder than it looked.

"mmm, lando." you whimpered as you tried to turn your head. but max grabbed you by the chin to look at him.

"it's my turn, eyes on me. not your boyfriend." max said calmly, his face was red from the heat in his body. he maintained eye contact with you as he pushed his cock in and out of you.

there was a rhythm to it, he was in control. like how he was on the track. it left you feeling hot all over, like the tip of a match. you could feel it from the top of your head to the bottoms of your feet.

you tightened your legs around his waist as he cock nudged against more sensitive areas. it was a heat running through you as you felt your mind start to go blank.

your pussy was painfully slick, your heart was hammering and you felt like you were going to melt from the heat in your core. his cock slammed against you and your breathing was ragged.

"she's a good fuck, eh, max?" lando chuckled as he watched the champion fuck his little girlfriend, "she's got a pussy to die for."

max chuckled, "you rent her out to all your rivals, or am i just special? because i think oscar would love a taste at this."

lando chuckled, "you're acting like we haven't done that already. he fuckin' marked her like he owned her! i own her! pussy and all." he shook his head.

"she is a good fuck, i can see why you'd want to make sure she didn't run off. gotta find me a girl like that."

lando's cock twitched at the compliment, "well not even a championship can guaranteed a good girl like this." he laughed and rubbed your hot face, "one in a million."

max chuckled, "bet you could find her anywhere. tight pussy, cute face." he knew that lando couldn't have the compliment for long, "i bet i could find one with a tighter pussy outside this hotel."

lando narrowed his eyes at the other driver, he could see the sweat at his temples, "right, right. i bet if i gave her in exchange for a win in hungary, you'd take it. you'd be fucking her in your private jet from here to there."

max leaned over you a little more to get closer to lando, as a result his cock got impossibly deep and a whimper left your lips. he smiled at lando, not the media smile he had. a real one, he said to lando, "ah, don't be too cocky, lando. that's what got you in trouble last time." his cock was hitting all your sweet spots.

"fuck, max."

max silenced you with another searing kiss. he hiked your hips further up so he could fuck you as hard as he could with the most leverage he could. his body was screaming to finish, but he didn't want to part from your sweet cunt.

however, climax dawned on you as you clutched onto the dutchman and felt the hit of orgasm shock your system! your toes curled your nails dug into the the other's shoulders. your pussy throbbed as you felt the high of orgasm.

"that's a good girl." lando said, "letting him fuck you." he stroked your face as you gasped for air. you looked at him with an unfocused gaze and he just thought you were adorable.

max continued to fuck you, feeling his own orgasm as well. he swore under his breath and kept rutting against you. your pussy fit him perfectly. with a few heavy thrusts he shoved his entire cock into you and finished in the condom.

"holy fuck." he grumbled as he held onto you for a moment, pulling you into another searing kiss. he grabbed you and rolled you over so your were on top, your thighs on either side of his waist.

you could tell he was still painfully hard.

lando basked in it. who would've known getting max to fuck you would make everything better. he laid beside the both of you in bed and stroked his cock. he said to you, your worried gaze looked back at him, "c'mon, love." he reached over and smacked your bare ass,"we have all night."

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corroded-hellfire · 7 months ago

Note

I've got this image in my head of very pregnant!AYW reader sitting outside with her feet in a kiddie pool, letting the older boys splash around and keep her cool on a hot day. Maybe a cooler full of frozen treats at her side.

I have had this one in my ask box forever because I wanted to write something I’d be happy with and I think I’m there lol. I hope it makes you happy as well 😘

Words: 1.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Of course. The August that you’re seven months pregnant is the hottest summer Hawkins has had in over fifty years. Of course.

Eddie could see how the heat was getting to you. Sweat would dot your forehead just moments after you’d step outside. Your ankles had swollen to almost double the size. It hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice that you were a little more irritable than usual as well. But your husband wasn’t sure what he could do to comfort you. Usually, his way of comforting you included wrapping you up in his arms but the one time he’d attempted to do that you’d given him a death glare that blazed hotter than the weather. He’d learned his lesson after that: no touching when the temperature is above a hundred degrees.

One early Saturday afternoon, you and Luke are eating lunch while Eddie and Ryan run a few errands. Luke had wanted to go too, but ever since you started your third trimester, Eddie didn’t like the idea of leaving you by yourself.

It’s quiet between you and your ten-year-old son when the back door bangs open, making you jump and swivel around in your seat–which was no easy task. Perspiration runs down Eddie’s forehead, Ryan’s own golden brown hair plastered to his forehead from the moisture. Patches of Ryan’s gray shirt are black and clinging to his skin from the sweat. If Eddie’s black Iron Maiden shirt weren’t so dark, you know you’d see the same thing on him. Despite how hot and sweaty they both look, they both have smiles on their faces and Eddie looks quite proud of himself.

“I f’ought oo were goin’ to da store,” you say around a mouth full of pasta salad.

“We did,” Eddie said, breaths labored.

“And we set up a surprise for you!” Ryan adds, his beaming grin stretching from ear to ear.

“And me?” Luke asks optimistically, craning his neck to look over at his father and brother.

“Actually, kind of,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Come on.” Your husband waves the both of you over towards the back door before remembering he should help you up out of the chair–even though you’re capable of doing it yourself.

The boys both run ahead of you as Eddie stays back with your waddling pace. It feels like no sooner than your bare foot hits the grass of the yard than sweat begins to break out along your hairline. You swear you’ll never complain about the winter being too cold again.

“It’s small,” you hear Luke say.

Your eyes catch on the short inflatable kiddie pool set up in the middle of the backyard, two white and blue striped lawn chairs set up beside it, and a large red cooler between them. The garden hose is hanging inside the pool, the green tube writhing like a snake as the water whooshes in to fill the empty space.

“Cause it’s a kiddie pool, duh,” Ryan replies to his brother.

“I thought,” Eddie starts, reaching up to rub your shoulders before catching himself, not wanting to make your discomfort worse, “you could sit out here with your feet in the nice cold water. Might help your ankles, too. And you know these two monkeys are always splashing so you’re bound to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Hey,” Luke protests, but Ryan nudges him with his elbow because they both know that their father is right.

“And…” Eddie takes your hand and gently leads you closer to the chairs, where he opens the cooler that’s nestled between them. Inside there are different flavors of ice pops, ice cream bars, and cold drinks, all enveloped in gallons of ice that have a pleasant chill wafting off them.

Words become trapped in your throat. Your wonderful husband did all of this for you just because he knows how the heat has been making you feel lately. And after you’ve been a pain in the ass. This would’ve made you emotional even if the hormones didn’t beat you to the punch.

“Eddie,” you say, all other speech cut off as your bottom lip begins to wobble.

“Uh oh,” Luke whispers.

“No, could be a good thing,” Ryan mumbles back quietly. He was slightly better at understanding the emotional aspect of hormones than his little brother.

“This is so sweet,” you say, turning to cup your husband’s face in your hands.

“You’ve been hard at work cooking that bun in the oven,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Oven needs some cooling down though, she’s getting overheated.”

“Ahem,” you hear from behind you. Ryan moves into your peripheral vision, and you turn your head to look at him, sliding your hands down to Eddie’s shoulders as you do. The eldest brother is clearly holding something behind his back, and you scrunch up your brow as you look at him.

“Whatcha got?” you ask.

Eddie huffs out a small chuckle and presses a kiss to your temple before saying, “Ryan found something at the store he says is on every ad for the beach.”

“You bought me sand? The ocean?” you tease the boy.

Ryan rolls his eyes, another reminder that he’s a preteen now.

“No,” he says. From behind him, Ryan brandishes a floppy hat, and he is certainly right—a woman is wearing one of those in every ad for the beach.

“Ryan, I love it!” you exclaim with a giggle. The grass crunches beneath your feet as you waddle over the few steps to the boy. He holds the straw hat out to you, a bright grin on his face at your happiness.

“You know,” you say as you accept the hat from him, “I’d bend down so you could put it on my head but then I wouldn’t be able to stand back up.”

“Like crowning a princess!” Luke adds as Ryan laughs.

“Well,” your husband says, coming up behind you, “it’s a good thing I’m taller than Ryan then, huh? Or we could’ve just made Luke help you back up.”

Eddie plucks the hat from your grasp, the straw scratching lightly against your fingertips as he pulls it away. He steps in front of you, and you keep your head level, only raising your eyes to watch Eddie’s pale, toned arms lift to place the floppy hat on top of your head gently.

“Your Highness,” Eddie says, bowing his head. Your giggle makes Eddie grin as he gestures towards the lawn chairs. “Your throne awaits.”

Twenty minutes later it’s as if the summer heat were merely an annoying insect that you’re only somewhat aware of. Even though the chill water of the miniature pool only goes up to midcalf, sloshes of water have hit you all the way up to your neck. The cool beads of moisture feel like heaven as they meander down your red tank top, though. The denim shorts you’re wearing will weigh a ton later since the boys’ splashing has gotten them so wet, but Eddie’s such a pro at taking your clothes off that he could use a little challenge this time.

Luke and Ryan manage to find games to play in the small pool—after Luke’s failed attempt at Marco Polo, anyway. Toy boats glide through the water, a few of them on the grass from flying overboard. The two boys shout but they’re outside and having fun, and it’s nice to hear.

The sound of the back door slamming shut reaches you as you tilt your head back, protected from the sun by Ryan’s thoughtful gift and the sunglasses you grabbed when you got changed. Eyes closed, you listen to footsteps in the grass as Eddie walks your way from the house. They come to a stop and you sense as he crouches down next to you. Lazily, you loll your head to the side and crack your eyes open.

“How’re my girls?” Eddie asks, placing his right hand over the soaked red shirt covering your baby bump.

“Mmm, good,” you hum. “She’s very happy you bought strawberry shortcake bars.”

“I’m glad she liked them,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “What about you, princess? How do you feel?”

You pretend to consider his question for a moment before speaking.

“Kiss me?”

You pucker your lips and there’s no hesitation as your husband leans in and gently presses his own against yours.

“Perfect. Now I’m perfect.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #older!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

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stevieschrodinger · 8 months ago

Text

Link to Part One

Link to Part Two

TW mentions of human trafficking, rescue, injury, trauma

Steve locks Eddie in the car which, yeah, okay, it makes Eddie jump a little reflexively at the quiet click of the lock. And it might just be habit, or whatever, because it’s a really nice car.

Or maybe he’s even doing it for Eddie’s safety.

It still feels like he’s been locked in, though, and Eddie finds he’s...really not a fan of how this feels.

Either way, when Steve comes back less than ten minutes later and opens Eddie’s side of the car, Eddie’s still not sure how to feel about it. Suspicion is hard to shake.

Steve kneels right there on the floor of the lot, “swing around,” Eddie does, watching as Steve pulls antiseptic wipes out of the bottom of the bag, opening a packet and lifting Eddie’s foot. Eddie hisses when the wipe makes contact, it’s cold and, even though surely most of the wounds have scabbed by now, it still stings quite a bit, “sorry.” Steve looks up at Eddie earnestly, big eyes and floppy hair and, well, the moles are cute.

And having an Alpha kneel on the floor for him, that’s kind of nice too. Maybe Steve really is that good looking.

He wraps Eddie’s feet in a bandage, some tube bandage over the top, Eddie still slurping on his peanut butter chocolate shake. He’s going to have the absolute worst shit later, he knows it, too much rich food all at once, after a really long time of non at all, but honestly, so worth it.

“When we get home, I’ll set you up in one of the spare rooms, and maybe we can order you some clothes?” Steve pulls the bandage comfortably tight around Eddie’s foot, a nice gauze pad wrapped around the sole for cushioning.

“Errr, I mean, I, before, I was usually a good will kind of shopper, you know? Maybe Target on a good day?”

Steve just blinks at him for a second, before that clearly sinks in, “don’t...don’t think about the money, if that’s what you mean, we can get you some clothes, really, I don’t mind.”

And Eddie’s sure as fuck not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, Steve’s already broke the bank on Eddie, what’s a little more, right?”

Eddie whistles, he can’t help it. Objectively, obviously, he knew Steve was loaded. There’s a difference between knowing that and…seeing it. This is like a fucking mansion. Well, it’s not like a mansion, obviously. It is a mansion.

Automatic electric gates, a drive that’s got to be a half mile long...and lawns. Trees. Land stretching off into the distance.

The house is fucking nice. It’s kind of sprawling...just the garage looks fucking massive on it’s own.

Steve sort of hovers around Eddie as he limps over the threshold, and, yeap, just as nice inside as it is outside. Very sleek and modern, big open spaces, lots of glass. Dark wood and bookcases filled with leather books and big paintings that look impressive but aren’t...well. Eddie’s not a fan, really. Eddie spies a building out the back, also lots of glass...Eddie’s money is on indoor pool.

“Something smells good,” Eddie says, as he limps further into the house, “smells kind of homey.” Which is true, something here smells vaguely relaxing. Kind of...comforting. Safe.

Eddie looks around as he gets further in, and the place is so big it is kind of a walk, it’s...really nice, but also kind of soulless. It doesn’t look lived in at all. And, Eddie frowns, something occurring to him for the very first time. Steve’s a good looking Alpha, and he’s fucking loaded, “will your, erm,” Eddie flounders, “partner, mind me being here?”

Steve laughs, seeing Eddie through to the lounge to sit on the couch, “don’t think I would have been able to play my part today if I were in any kind of serious relationship. Hagan would have known if I was seeing anyone, the press loves that shit.”

And yeah, all of that makes total sense, and Eddie feels kind of stupid for not putting that together. But it...doesn’t really make sense, considering Steve is, still, clearly, very hot and very loaded.

“Okay,” Steve plops a laptop into Eddie’s lap, open to a clothing website. “just open tabs on some stuff you’d like, and then give it back to me when you’re done. You’re going to need some clothes while Hopper tracks down your uncle, okay? I’m going to go and set up a room.”

Eddie’s just sort of rolling with it at this point, so he nods and smiles and then blinks down at a Tom Ford Slim-Fit Button-Down Collar Checked Cotton shirt...that’s nearly seven hundred dollars.

And Eddie would never, in a million fucking years, be caught dead in it. Honestly, he thinks he actually prefers the white nightdress.

Eddie looks at the drop down menu, clicks on ‘cashmere’ for shits and giggles, and then laughs to himself when the very first listing is a black turtle-neck...for over a thousand odd dollars. Fucking rich people are batshit.

Eddie manages to find a drop down that lets him filter out everything over two hundred and fifty dollars, and then he searches by lowest price first. He starts opening tabs, mostly inoffensive lounge wear – a large portion of which is very, very unfortunately beige.

Eddie hears Steve coming before he sees him, “just do it please Carol,” and he sounds...exasperated by whoever Carol is. Steve comes back and takes the laptop. He very very briefly frowns at Eddie over the top of the screen, but it’s over so fast Eddie’s not entirely sure he saw it, “you think you’ll want something more to eat later?”

Eddie did eat his weight in McDonalds a couple of hours ago...but he hasn’t been really full for years, “uhm, yeah, in a bit, maybe?”

“Sure, I’ll see what we have.”

And then Eddie just...sits there. He can’t actually remember the last time he just...sat on a couch. The only place the Omega at the ranch are allowed to sit is either the floor, when they’ve been told to, the table, but only when eating...and probably their beds in the dorm.

Sitting here feels kind of naughty, actually, sitting here, relaxing, comfortable and warm. Eddie touches the lush, velvety feel of the couch, it’s really nice, really soft-“chicken and pasta?” Eddie nearly jumps out of his fucking skin. Like he’s just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Logically, he knows that isn’t the case, but his feet are tingling regardless.

Steve can actually cook, who knew? Well, it might only be a simple dish, browned off chicken chunks in something creamy and mushroomy, sitting on some pasta, but it’s absolutely delicious.

“We should probably get someone to look at your feet tomorrow.”

Eddie shrugs, nearly vibrating with excitement at the sight of garlic bread and trying his best to hide it, “always been fine before.”

“Still, I wouldn’t want them getting infected. Do you want me to tell Hopper anything about your uncle? I presume he will be busy for a little bit but…?”

Eddie swallows but...nods, Steve getting his phone and Hoppers card, “he’s called Wayne Munson, he’s my dads brother. He lives in a trailer park in, uhm, Hawkins. Indiana.”

Steve taps at his phone, “that’s not actually that far, we could...probably drive that, maybe in a day, once you feel up to it. I’ll see what Hopper says, see if he gets back to us tomorrow, I figure we've both had a long day.”

And that sounds...well. Eddie's running out of reasons to be suspicious, to question this, to question Steve. He has a little kernel of hope, real, genuine hope, growing inside him now...that this is true. That he's going to be free. That he's going to see Wayne.

Eddie nods, keeps eating, is thrilled when Steve offers him a beer, nodding happily. Steve withdraws it at the last second, “wait, just how old are you?”

“Errr…twenty one?”

Steve laughs, “try again,” but he does hand over the beer.

“Eighteen. I was there for a couple of years, maybe a bit longer, they got me walking home from school. Pretty sure my parents wouldn’t have, you know, noticed, probably best I don’t go back there, anyway. Quite a few Omega came through in the time that I was, you know, there...”

Steve’s staring off into space though, looking somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder, clearly not listening.“-oh.”

“Errr...Steve, you okay?” Steve looks like his brain has just stalled. Like completely shut down, “Steve, man, you’re freaking me out a bit here.”

Steve frowns, finally showing some life, his fork still literally hanging in air, half way to his mouth, “Tommy Hagan is probably being arrested.”

“I, err...I mean, yeah? I fucking hope he is?”

As Eddie watches, a bit of chicken falls off Steve’s fork and splats onto his plate, “right now, other than me, you, and the FBI...no one knows that. That Tommy’s being arrested, arrested for something fucking terrible.”

“Riiight…”

“He’s being arrested for something he can’t come back from. It’ll got public. His names about to be mud. His stocks are going to tank. Every part of everything Tommy owns is about to go up in flames.” Steve’s fork clangs onto the plate, “I’m so sorry, I have to go to work.”

“I...what?”

Steve’s already picking up his phone, his keys, sliding on his jacket, “help yourself to anything you need, I’ll be back...at some point.” Steve’s already calling someone, “I need you in the office, right now. I want Wheeler, from legal, make sure finance is there, actually, make sure Henderson has availability tomorrow,” Steve comes back from the front door, sliding a business card in front of Eddie, “no, right now, I’m on my way, twenty minutes.”

Eddie looks at the card; it’s Steve’s, has his email, office number and mobile on it, presumably so Eddie can get hold of him. Eddie’s pretty sure he just witnessed the first steps of a hostile take over, or something.

And now he’s in this massive house, all alone.

Link to Part Four

@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @weekend-dreamer7 @lololol-1234 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #omega eddie munson because he's so pretty #alpha steve harrington #my writing

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mercwiththem0uth · 2 months ago

Text

another drabble because i have soft!wade literally living on my mind 24/7. not proof read!

x gn!reader showering with deadpool and caring for him when his skin has a bad flare-up.

you had been in a relationship with wade for a couple of years now. you knew him inside-out. you loved him so deeply and would do absolutely anything for him, and he was totally head-over-heels for you because of it.

unfortunately, sometimes his mutation causes the scars on his skin to flare up, becoming irritable and painful. he would say that his skin essentially hurt him all the time, and he was just very used to the pain. however when these rare moments happened where it hurt more than usual, you tried to do everything you could to make things more comfortable for him.

in the earlier stage of your relationship, when the first flare-up happened, you spent a long time stood in the kitchen surrounded by a huge amount jars, test tubes, liquids, essential oils, and syringes, trying to find the best combination for a special lotion that wade could use to moisturise his unique skin.

wade stood in the doorway, a small smile on his face as he watched your eyes narrow, tongue poking out of your mouth slightly, concentrating so hard on the task in front of you.

you were so engrossed in measuring out the ingredients and stirring your lotions into different labelled pots, that you hadn't noticed him observing you.

"what are you doing, doll?" wade's voice spoke gently as he stepped towards you in the kitchen. you jumped, heart almost skipping a beat as you hadn't suspected anyone to be home with you.

realising it was him, you relaxed. "you're back early" you smiled at him, tilting your head.

"no I'm not" he smiled widely, motioning his head towards the clock, which read 7:36pm.

oh...

you had been stood in the kitchen doing your little experiments for much longer than you had realised.

wade came behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, dropping a kiss to your exposed shoulder, before whispering in your ear. "so... you never told me what you are doing." he stood back and leaned against the counter, inhaling a deep breath of the different smells that you had created. he was getting senses of ginger and honey... coconut and oatmeal.

"if i was to guess, you're starting up some sort of etsy home-business?"

you giggled at his silliness.

"i'm trying to create a lotion for you. to help... you know... your skin. i know it's been hurting recently." you blushed slightly, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed.

wade felt his heart swell at your words. he almost melted right there on the floor. you had only been together a couple of months, and wade was still very insecure about his appearance around you. but the fact that you were going out of your way to make something to help him, almost made him want to cry.

he knew in that moment that you were something extremely special. you were still in the early stage of your relationship, yet you were being so selfless and kind towards him.

"oh, baby" he whispered, a small smile on his face. "that is so kind. thank you."

the sincerity in his voice made your stomach flutter. you hadn't seen a very affectionate/grateful side of wade yet, but little did you know that this was only the beginning, and you are yet to meet the very clingy, loveable deadpool.

he came and wrapped you in a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

you spent the rest of that evening sat together round the kitchen table, testing the lotions and altering some of the recipes, before he settled on one that he really liked. he still uses it to this day, and you happily make him a new batch every month.

wade sat in the passenger seat of dopinder's taxi, staring out the window. his lips were curled until a soft smile as he thought about that memory. you had been his biggest supporter since day one.

he climbed out of the taxi and gave dopinder a high five, before slowly making his way up to your shared apartment. his footsteps were slow and heavy as his muscles ached and his skin screamed against his suit with every step that he took. he finally crashed through the door, immediately relaxing slightly as the familiar scent and warmth of home surrounded him.

"hey baby!" he heard you call from the bedroom, as he kicked his shoes off and made his way to find you. you were folding laundry as you looked up at him and smiled, having missed him all day. he managed to smile back, never once breaking eye contact as you approached him for a kiss. resting your hands on his shoulders you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, a toothy grin on your face as you pulled away.

"are you okay?" you said gently, watching as your boyfriend began to take his suit off, his face screwing up and flinching in agony every once in a while. "does it hurt?" you whispered.

he just nodded his head, a small sigh and grunt escaping his mouth. you frowned, wishing you could take away his pain. "i'm sorry baby, anything i can do to help?"

"i'm gonna take a shower" he said, voice barely above a whisper, as he peeled the last piece of his suit from his body. you followed him into the bathroom, watching as he leaned to turn the shower on to a lukewarm/cool temperature, making you frown again. he couldn't even enjoy the feeling of hot water. "what's the frown for, kitten?" he said, pulling his underwear down and kicking them off his feet.

"i just feel bad for you", you sighed, hating to see the love of your life feel this way.

"don't be silly" he pulled you against him, holding you in a small hug, "i'm used to it."

"but still, you don't deserve it."

"hey now, if i wasn't a mutant, cancer would've got me a long time ago and I never would've met you." he squeezed your shoulders before pulling away, watching your face waiting to see you smile.

he climbed into the shower, before turning back to you. "you can join me if you like," wriggling his eyebrows, "i wouldn't recommend it though, your sweet cheeks will get cold."

you smiled and rolled your eyes. eventhough he was in pain, he was trying to be his usual-self that always cheers you up. you pulled off your clothes and joined him in the shower, letting him stand at the water end. his big eyes looked down at you, filled with love and adoration, but underlying sadness. he was just in pain, and needed some comfort. you noticed immediately, reaching round to grab his soap. it was an expensive one, formulated to be kind and gentle to his skin.

you poured some onto a soft sponge and used your hands to lather it up with some water, directing him to turn around. you placed the sponge ever so gently at the top of his shoulder blades, before slowly moving it down across his back. he tensed up, liking the feeling but hating it at the same time. his hand reached backwards and he used his fingers to brush against your thigh, indicating to you that he wanted to hold your hand. you reached down and locked fingers with him, giving it a small squeeze, whilst still using the other hand to slowly sweep the sponge across his backside. you squeezed the sponge in your hand, letting the soapy water trickle down his body, so you weren't putting any friction on his most sensitive and inflamed areas.

you brought his hand up to your mouth to kiss it, before tightly tugging him to face you again. he turned around to let you wash his chest and stomach.

you peeked up at wade, his head was dropped down to his chest with his eyes screwed shut. you put an arm around his waist, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his forehead. he leaned into your touch, wanting more. you breathed a laugh against his skin, giving one more kiss, before passing him the sponge and letting him finish washing his more intimate areas. (although he definitely would not have minded if you'd done that for him)

once he was rinsed off, you helped him out of the shower and passed him the fluffiest towel you could find. you left him alone and ventured back into the bedroom, pulling out some clean pyjamas for the both of you, before going to the kitchen to order his favourite chimichangas.

wade eventually appeared, wearing nothing but some cotton underwear. you looked at him confused, "i got some clothes out for you, bub."

his eyes darted down to his hand, where he was holding a bottle of your home-made lotion. your eyes softened as you whispered an "okay", before quickly washing your hands.

you joined wade on the couch where he was turning on a movie, sitting next to him and rubbing some lotion between your hands. he leaned into your touch and began to finally relax against you, as you gave him the gentlest massage you possibly could.

you spent the rest of the evening cuddling your big baby of a boyfriend, using your fingers to moisturise every nook and cranny of his back, arms, chest, legs, hands and feet. your heart melted every time you heard him let out a sigh or a grunt of pleasure, knowing his pain was finally easing. even if it was only slightly.

after you'd eaten, wade laid across the couch with his head in your lap, your hand resting lightly on his head. you were both fighting sleep as you tried to make it to the end of the movie.

before drifting away, you felt wade tilt his head up to look at you. you met his eyes, softly blinking at him, trying to read his thoughts.

"i don't deserve you," he mumbled, reaching his fingertips up to caress your cheek. "thank you for everything"

you stared lovingly at him for a moment, before leaning down and pressing a long kiss to his lips. he meant every word. what did he do to deserve someone who loved and cared for him so deeply?

guys I'm so in love with this fictional man it's not even funny i just wanna kiss his face and give him the love he deserves :'(

#deadpool #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #deadpool fanfiction #deadpool x reader #ryan reynolds #fluff #deadpool and wolverine #x reader #deadpool imagine #wade wilson imagine #marvel imagine #marvel

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slut4sugu · 4 months ago

Text

𝐎𝐇 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇? — ejirou kirishima x black!fem reader

me and your mama + childish gambino

𐙚˚ including: kinda pleasure!dom kiri? , edging, somewhat car sex, oral (female receiving), choking, squirting, dirty talk, slight spanking, spitting, lowkey nasty sex, kinda long fic 𐙚˚ description: after an annoying situation reader discovers how much she likes her boyfriend being a little rough.. 𐙚˚ authors note: didn’t really proof read much, took me a while to finish this, I hope y’all like it! 😭🤍

MDNI!!

It was honestly a fun experience dating kirishima but sometimes it would be a little challenging having to deal with all the girls that would come and try their luck with him when you went attached to his buff arm. But kiri was such a sweetheart about it, being able to tell when a girl was coming up to shoot her shot and would quickly shoot her down. Politely, but firmly.

However you weren’t really used to guys hitting on you, despite what kiri would say about how breath taking you are you never really got cat called or anything. So when kiri had gone off for 2 minutes to say hi to denki, you weren’t expecting a guy to come up to you while you were looking for some heels.

“Wow you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Looking up you saw a slightly shorter guy than your boyfriend talking to you, immediately you felt uncomfortable. Regretting the tube top you wore that day that displayed your chest, “I’m sorry, I have a boyfriend.” You tried to go back to looking for your heels, ignoring the stranger before hearing close footsteps come to your left side. “Oh really? Then where is he, yknow girls like you are kind of the hottest type always play hard to get.” He came around the shoe rack and attempted to back you into a corner, your eyes widened in fear as you noticed how close he was getting. Though regained whatever composure you had and raised your voice, “Look I already told yo stupid ass I had a boyfriend, now leave me the hell alone.” The guy apparently not appreciating that looked as tho he was about to say something before you felt a familiar strong chest behind you. “Are you deaf or stupid, she said leave her alone asshole.”

you knew it was kiri but you had never heard him like this before, serious and stern yet keeping that calm voice about him. You hated to admit but dispute the fear you had a second ago you were kind of turned on, watching the creep grit his teeth before scurrying away in fear was satisfying to say the least. Turning around you faced your boyfriend who’s face immediately softened and quickly wrapped you up in his arms, “did he touch you? are you okay baby?” You returned the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing it softly. “He didn’t touch me, I’m fine eji I promise.” Pulling back from the hug your hands slid down his chest as you pressed a comforting kiss to his cheek, that sweet smile came back on his handsome face once again. Making your heart swell, “you wanna keep looking for those shoes or…?” You never said no faster in your life.

As you both made your way out of the mall hand in hand you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to back when kiri confronted the creep, the bass in voice his complete personality switch..it was hot. Would he ever talk to you like that? Would he ever..punish you? So many thoughts raced through your head not even realizing you were already your boyfriend’s act until his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “whatcha thinking about baby?” That handsome grin once again his face taking a glance at you before retiring his gaze back to the wheel, as he slid his hand onto your upper thigh you began to say, “Well uhm just about how you were talking to the guy at the store..I’ve never seen or heard you like that before.” You said in a slightly hushed tone, your eyes flickering from his face to your lap.

Thinking it scared you, kiri began to rub circles with his thumb into your plush thigh, “Baby I’m sorry if I scared you, it’s just.. it pissed me off to see that asshole mess with you like that.” You smiled softly, you were lucky to find someone so kind and protective you felt almost dirty; Thinking about how close his thumb was circling on your inner thigh to your core. “I know eji but it didn’t scare me..actually.”

You confess, bitting your lip in slight regret. Your eyes now on the passenger window. Kiri knew you far too well to not know what was going on in that pretty little head of yours at this moment, “What are you trying to say then honey?” He asked now with a slight smirk on his face, as his big calloused hand traveled up further now going slightly under your small green earthy skirt.

you stifled your slight gasp and instead tried to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together. “W-well uhm. The way you were talking to him was a little-!” Letting out a soft moan you felt this time at the feeling of kiris fingers now playing with your clit under your skirt. You felt kiri an eyes on you as his fingers circled your sensitive cunt. You whimpered and shifted in your seat. Gripping kiris forearm, your acrylics digging into his skin slightly as you subconsciously spread your legs wider, “a little what? Use your words f’me honey.” Your sweet boyfriend’s voice now a little stern yet still flirty you felt your clothes cunt dampen at his words. His side profile wasn’t helping either.

His hair was down and a bit grown out, pretty and fluffy contrast to his slightly intimidating appearance. Silvers rings adorning his fingers, as his left hand gripped the steering wheel with a certain intensity. His eyes now covered over in a film or lust and amusement as his gaze met yours. Gazing over your thick thighs that he can’t wait to mark up when he gets you home, your pretty eyes looking up at ejirou with that ‘fuck me look’.. If you weren’t careful you were about to get railed in the car at this rate.

“it turned me on, hearing you t-talk to that creep like that and i was kinda curious if you would ever talk to me like that..” You confessed shyly, letting out an airy laugh the Ejirou looked at you with pure curiosity and lust as he pulled up at a red light. “..Are you saying you want me to be more rougher honey?” The sight almost made you loose it right there. The light of the setting sun casting an unfairly beautiful glow on his toned skin, kiri’s low yet flirty and curious eyes never leaving yours, the smell of his cologne overstimulating your senses even more, It was all too much.

You nodded shyly, before he corrected you pinching your clit as a warning, “Words princess, say what you want.” You whined in pleasure, squeezing your thighs together as you avoids his gaze. Fighting with yourself mentally for a moment. As embarrassing as it was to admit it you wouldn’t help but leak at for what’s to come when you both get home, so in a hushed embarrassed tone you confessed. “I want you to be more rougher with me eji.”

𐙚˚

“I love you so much, but I’m about to fuck you like a slut okay?”

Those were the words your sweet boyfriend whispered to you before forcing you face down ass up on your shared bed, your puffy clothed cunt exposed to him after he ripped off your soak panties. “God you smell so good, this pussy is leaking f’me.” He spanked your cunt a few times causing you to moan and jolt, “p-please baby.” You were so desperate as you practically wiggled your ass in front of your boyfriend, but your attempts only got you a slap on the rear. “Ah ah ah, you know better than that if you’re gonna beg do it right slut.” Kiri’s voice traveled right between your legs, your arousal only growing as you whined.

“Please..daddy. I want your tongue please.” You pleaded with your boyfriend, you wanted his dick so badly it hurt but at this moment anything would suffice. “Mmm you sound so pretty when you beg angel , alright I’ll eat out this slutty little pussy. But if you try to run I’ll stop got it?” You nodded before receiving two slaps on your ass, “Got it?” You were quick to correct yourself “Y-yes daddy.”

“That’s my girl. Now spread your legs a little wider f’me.” You did as told, exposing more of your dripping cunt to the red head. Kiri then got on his knees pulled you a bit closer to his face before devouring your cunt. You moaned out in pleasure and relief as your hands gripped the black silk sheets. It was pure bliss, after craving any sexual release all day this was heaven. Feeling ejirou a tongue lick inside your wet hole was euphoric.

As if you weren’t turned on enough, he'd whisper little things in between desperate licks. "such a pretty pussy fuck.." The lewd sounds of moans and the squelches of your cunt echoed throughout the bedroom, your knuckles soon starting to turn white as that familiar knot in your stomach began to unravel. The sounds of kiri slurping your cunt, his sweet moans and whimpers as he rutted his hips into the mattress. It was all too much, too good.

Ejirou felt his body heat up as the image of you cumming all over his face flickered in his mind. He knew he was supposed to be more rougher with you tonight but the way you moaned out his name and pleaded for more was so hot. You weren’t making it easy to not want to meet your every plea. “Ba-daddy m’finna cum please more.” You begged. You could feel your climax approaching a few more licks and..

You felt his tongue leave your cunt, the loss of it made you whine, “Not yet pretty girl, not yet.” You were almost mad at him, you were so close to cumming. “Eji please, why’d you stoppp I need more-!” You felt another slap on the ass and suddenly a hand coming around to grip your throat as you felt ejirous chest press into your back. “I said not yet, slut. I’m calling the shots here okay?” His voice made your clit throb, you almost moaned at the feeling of his big hand around your tiny throat. Eji had never choked you before, but god did it feel amazing. You hummed in response, “M’sorry yes daddy.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before standing up to take off his pants and boxers, “now that she’s all loosened up..you ready to take it pretty girl?” You frantically nodded, “yes daddy I am, p-please fuck me.”

𐙚˚

you knew that you wouldn't be able to last long if he kept pounding deep you like this, your back arched to perfection as he hit that sweet gummy spot inside of you. Kiri’s voice traveled right between your legs, your arousal only growing as he felt your slick begin to spread all over his thighs. your eyes lost focus, as your mind practically went blank as you began to fuck yourself back onto his dick. Ejirou couldn't help a devilish smirk from growing on his features, your fucked out moans and whimpers almost making him ease up on you, but almost wasn't enough...

“You’re so beautiful when you look fucked out like this, fuck a pretty little slut drunk on dick.” Kiri’s dirty talk was driving you up the wall, hearing him say such naughty things while looking down at you with those lust driven eyes was unfair. His hand went for your throat again gripping it firmly as he spoke, “Open your mouth for me princess.”

You do as your told as kiri spits, a long string of saliva drizzling into your mouth. It felt so nasty and sexy, you never knew sex with kiri could be this much fun, you swallowed his spit sticking out your tongue to show proof which made the redheads cock twitch inside of you, “Shit your so fucking hot, I can’t hmm go slow anymore baby I gotta fuck you.”

Stopping ejirou takes a pillow from his side of the bed, hooking his arm under your knees to lift your ass. Placing the pillow under your lower back as he shoves your knees to your shoulders. The new position now folding you in half, the pussy drunk look on kiri’s face was pornographic. “Take it f’me baby, I want you to cum so fucking hard you see stars.”

Your eyes roll back as the new position helps drive kiri’s cock deeper into your spongy cunt. His girthy and pretty dick slammed into you with faster strokes. You swear he’s in your stomach. The way he grips your hips as his thrust into you, the sound of skin slapping and kiris pretty moans were all too much. So when the head of his cock pushed against that sweet gummy spot inside you, it resulted in squirt gushing from your cunny onto the both of you.

"That’s it pretty girl make mess f’me, gimme that cum-”Ejirou babbles, watching you frantically nod your head. Your pussy spasms around him, his moans growing louder as you feel his cock twitch with need. Your pussy began to grip him like a vice, seemingly wanting each drop of his cum to be pumped into your puffy pretty pussy. He whimpered as he came, burying his cock into your cunt in doing so. Filling your pretty hole up to the brim, collapsing ontop of you after.

After catching his breath kiri came down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “you did so good for me princess, you okay?” You smiled sleepily as you looked up at your now sweet boyfriend, humming in response. “I’m okay eji, can we stay like this for a while tho?”

Returning your smile he littered your face with kisses, “of course sweetheart. As long as you want.”

#🌸. 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐌 #kirishima x black reader #mha x black female reader #mha smut #mha kirishima #kirishima x fem!reader #kirishima smut #black!reader #ejirou kirishima x black!reader #ejirou kirishima #kirishima x y/n #kiribaku

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stnexus · 1 year ago

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Just Before Bed

dom!geto suguru x blk!fem!sub!reader x kinda dom!gojo satoru

18+, R RATED, MINORS DNI

description: no panties at a party? well that’s just unacceptable.

warnings: (y/n) is tipsy here + geto high though all parties are consenting adults, unprotected sex, indicates that there is a safe word if needed (not used every thing is fine and fun), established relationship, geto’s a little mean + kinda a cuck(?) lmao, f + m overstim, squirting, creampie(s), double penetration, dacryphillia, everyone be safe please make sure you are fully grasping my warnings!

names used (?): baby, baby doll, princess, pretty girl, brat, pretty, pretty boy, good girl

word count: 3.1k+

The silver wind chimes on the front porch clanked together as it let out a ring of a beautiful melody. Cold air swirled about, causing the rustle of fallen leaves along the ground. As a car pulled into the drive way all that could be heard was the banging of car doors slamming shut as you and your lovers got out. Causing the chilled gusts of wind to meet your bare arms — damned tube dress.

“tss, satoru baby i’m cold,” you complained as you hugged onto the partner closets to you. almost losing your footing with how intoxicated you were. sloppy drink wouldn’t be used to describe your state — but you definitely had a nice buzz flowing throughout your body. every thought felt fuzzy around the edges, like you could just let yourself float away.

“com’ere, baby doll,” gojo calls out, wrapping his arms around you as he led you both behind geto. your arms wrapped around his white button up cladded torso. the keys jingling about in geto's hand matched the wind chimes song as your second lover made his way to the front door. sifting through the keys on his keychain.

“suguruuu, why’re ya so quiet?” you spoke up with laughter in your tone, one of you fingers playing with a belt loop on gojo's black slacks. your pink acrylics dragging against his clothed hips.

“you know how he gets when he’s high, all quiet and brooding,” gojo laughed, pulling you closer.

“you two have been giggling the whole way home. and despite gojo being sober,” geto chided, “you’re both sharing the same brain cell at the moment…now get in before you get sick.”

at your boyfriend’s declaration as he ushered you both inside, you and gojo’s laughs grew even more. walking through the front door of your home in a fit of laughter as the warm atmosphere enveloped you all. kicking your heels off, you watched as the two men removed their dress shoes, black socks meeting the wooden floor of the threshold.

“suguru…” before the words could even form in your drunken mind, geto had picked you up bridal style. the bottom of your black colored floor length dress swaying around your manicured toes at the action. wrapping your arms around his neck you planted a kiss on his cheek, which was still cold from the time spent outside. your head was brought down to rest on his shoulder - meeting the black button up shirt he had worn. it wasn’t long before you were upstairs — gojo close behind after he grabbed three cups of water from the kitchen.

dropping you softly onto the edge of the bed, geto began to grab at the black tie around his neck — slowly loosening the knot. gojo sat the cups down with a sigh. when nanami said he would be hosting a party you all thought it was some kind of joke. nanami? having fun? turns out it was some corporate affair, nothing but office workers swarmed the building. but you all still managed to enjoy your self, nanami never shied away from offering alcohol. which you did partake in, unlike gojo or geto. though, somehow someway geto had slipped out during the night. telling you and gojo he'd just be a minute, only to return high.

“come on baby, take your dress off,” gojo stated grabbing at the top of your tube dress as you giggled.

“say please first ‘toru,” a smirk played at his lips you responded. but he held back a retort as he slipped his fingers between the top of the dress and your body, beginning to pull it down your chest until—

“you didn’t wear a bra..? well, kinda understandable with the dress. but, hell…no panties either,” gojo looked baffled as you giggled. you drunken brain fully fucking you over, because if you had been sober you wouldn’t have missed the glare geto had thrown at gojo's discovery. letting gojo pull the dress off of you completely a gasp left your lips as you felt his hand ghost over the top of your thighs as he came up to plant a kiss on your glossy lips.

“such a bad girl,” gojo scolded, “such a pretty body though, don’t you think so suguru?”

“as always,” geto replied as he took off his silver cufflinks, "but why don’t you do me a favor ‘toru?”

“hm?”

“eat our pretty girl out,” Geto stated, “i like seeing her all sensitive and whiny after she drinks. and the way she's looking at you i think she'd like that.”

looking down at your low hooded eyes and quiet demeanor. you had stopped the giggling from earlier. taking in your lover that stood before your completely naked form.

“whaddya say, ‘s that what you want princess?” gojo questioned with a small smile, moving to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“mhm,” you nodded and hummed in compliance, tone low, "please, satoru...that's what i want."

it wasn’t long before gojo had rid himself of his clothes, much like geto who moved about in the room in just his black briefs. pulling his long black hair into a messy low bun. cleaning things up, as if gojo wasn’t buried between your legs, eye level with your cunt as he laid soft and loving kisses on your special little button. his hands pushed your brown thighs in opposite directions, spreading you open for him to get better access. gojo planted one more kiss on your clit, watching as your arousal leaked from your hole as he pulled away.

you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been horny since you all had been getting ready for the party. taking in your two boyfriends as they got dressed. smelling the cologne they'd covered themselves with made the ache between your legs even worse. even the way they conversed at the party, teeth sparkling as they threw charming smiles. and the way geto looks when high was the icing on the cake. it was like heaven and your worst nightmare at the same time, knowing you couldn't touch them. which made your predicament now even more annoying.

“stop teasing, gojo—” your whiny bratty remark was cut short as you felt his tongue make contact with your pussy. pushing through your puffy lips to lick a long stripe. his blue eyes had snapped to your face, watching it contorting slightly as you were taken off guard. as small moan had caused you to go quiet for just a second.

“oh she went quiet for a second there, satoru,” geto laughed as he continued to trail around the room picking up everyones discarded clothes. “but truly stop teasing. go ahead and make her a whiny mess, baby.”

at the command of geto again you could feel all fight from gojo drop as he pressed his face between your thighs once more. removing one hand from one of your brown thighs in order to use his fingers to spread your puffy lips open. everything else that followed was rid of the kind and gentle kisses he’d shown you before.

it was only a matter of minutes before you felt a mixture of your wetness and gojo’s spit completely flooding your cunt. dripping onto the bed. there was no use of shying away with the way he had you spread open, lips wrapped around your pretty little bud as he sucked at it and licked away. nothing but obscene slurping sounds and your whiny moans could be heard around the room as geto sat on the bed, observing his two lovers from afar.

geto was right earlier, drinking does make you sensitive and whiny. it was a cute sight to him.

“‘toru, you feel so good,” you moaned out, pink acrylic nails coming up to grab at his white hair. his eyes closed as your fingers grazed over his scalp, groaning into your pussy. your hips jolting at the action.

“yeah baby? you want more?”

“yeaa', ‘toru. please gimme more,”

“suguru…you aren’t going to play with her too…?” gojo mumbles into your cunt as he looked over at geto at the head of the bed. watching from the corner of his eye as you slightly twitched from the vibrations.

“not quite yet. but keep going,” geto spoke low lidded from the opposite side of the bed. it was now easier to see that some hair framed his face and had not been pulled into his messy bun.

“suguru please, join us— ahh, fuuck—” your pleading was interrupted as you felt two of gojo’s finger sink into your cunt, his mouth attacking your clit once more. it felt like he was trying to pull an orgasm out of you the way his fingers curled. grazing that special spot inside of you from time to time.

it wasn’t until you both locked eyes that gojo took a harsh suck at your clit, maneuvering his fingers to repeatedly hit at that sensitive little spot. you could feel your stomach tightening as your head turned to the side. your eyes meeting with geto’s darkened ones. it was like no matter where you turned someone was watching.

“our pretty girl’s going to cum,” geto somewhat chuckled,“come on (Y/N), show us how pretty you look when you cum.”

your mouth fell open into a moan as you felt your orgasm getting pulled from you. cunt pulsing and clenching around gojo’s digits and against his tongue as a pretty ring of white continued to decorate the base of his fingers.

“keep going.” fell from geto’s lips as your brows furrowed. the alcohol from earlier still had you unaware to his demeanor. “no underwear? at a public event? you must’ve lost your mind pretty girl.”

“i wanna to see her cry tonight satoru. what do you think?”

“i agree geto. i mean, she must’ve been waiting to get home. this pretty pussy was flooded before i even touched her earlier.”

“well let’s give her everything and then more…” geto replied. his hands coming up to play at your hardened nipples. a whine of wait i’m sorry, left your lips as you realized the compromising position they were putting you in as geto joined gojo on his knes at the foot of the the bed. throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, the other over gojo’s.

“shhh, no apologies, you’re not sorry yet,” geto taunted as both him and gojo licked a line up your already pleased cunt. tongues meeting as they reached your attentive clit.

and that's how it continued, they toyed with you for the next hour almost. it became apparent that you weren't going anywhere as they gripped at your thighs, with two of geto's fingers buried to the base in your pussy. you'd lost count at how many times you had released in their tongues, creaming along geto's fingers. surely dripping into his palm as his fingers moved in and out. but it was clear that geto hadn’t lost count.

“three times, four if you count when you made her cum gojo. look at her…” as they continued to prolong your fourth orgasm the two men took in your appearance. your silk pressed hair beginning to curl around your edges, chest heaving, eyes glossed over and hands tangled in the sheets below you. careless moans fell from your lips as your sensitive clit throbbed and begged for mercy under their unrelenting tongues.

“y’ gonna fuck her for me pretty boy?” geto mumbled out between their tongues meeting at your clit. gojo replied with a simple deep mhmm and a head nod which was probably the worst thing to do with your drooling pussy right in his face, because the cry you let out signified you’d just come again. as they let up they both placed gentle and feather light kisses to your sensitive cunt. taking in your blissed out face as they stood, gojo pulled you to meet his hips .

it was like they were trying to humiliate you. gojo pulled you into a mating press as he pulled off his boxers. his heavy cock smacking against your cunt as it was freed from the boxers. the usually light brown tip swollen and red, and shaft appearing as thick as ever — veins decorating it beautifully.

“‘toruuu…go slow pleasepleaseplease,” you whined out as the sensitive state your pussy was in. and he listened, sinking in inch by inch as slowly as he was able to, groaning out an oh fuuck, when he hit the hilt. balls brush against your ass as his hands held the back of your thighs.

“geto our girl feels sooo fucking good,” gojo addressed your shared boyfriend who sat in the love seat that decorated the corner of your shared bedroom. his boxers off and cock in hand receiving slow, tight, lazy strokes.

“i bet she does, and stop being so easy on her, she’s receiving a punishment remember? i don’t care how much she begs, she knows the safe word. fuck her stupid,” geto groans gritting out his last words, watching as gojo moved his hips at a slow pace. your mouth went slack at his orders feeling gojo’s hips pick up the pace as you locked eyes with geto, a fucked out sounding i fucking h-hate youuu leaving your lips in a whine.

“yeah yeah, nothing i haven’t heard before brat,” he smirked slyly. his fist still moving up and down his shaft, the loose hairs framing his face swaying gently, “you’ll love me later.”

gojo’s hips crashed into the back of your thighs, lower abdomen bumping into your clit with every thrust. you only choked out obscenities and his name falling from your lips as your head lay on the bed.

“can I pull your hair baby…?” gojo huffed out, knowing you’d be pissed you were sweating it out already, but he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. but you sent a dazed out nod his way. placing his hand atop your head, gojo gripped at your hair, pulling your head up to make you watch where you two were connected.

“fuckfuck, oh my— fuuuck,”

watching how gojo’s cock reached inside your walls fully solidified everything that was going on. a sheen of your previous orgasms and current arousal coated his shaft. a pretty ring of cream sliding along his base, leaving a stringy mess at every attempt of him pulling away. your cunt seemed to wanted to pull him back in after every draw back of his hips.

“yeah baby, look at how good that pussy is. she’s practically crying for me. if i move just a bit i could hit….” gojo paused for just a moment, changing the angle of his hips. “that spot, there you go pretty girl.”

a dreadfully teary eyed cry fell from your lips as gojo began his assault on your sweet spot cooing at your reaction. your mind so fuzzy you begin to forget geto was pumping away at his cock in the same room until he let out a moan. still looking at the way gojo fucked you out the way he hit your spot continuously was earth crushing, it didn’t take long for your to babble out a deceleration of your orgasm reaching you. your stomach tightening and releasing at its own will. but gojo’s hips didn’t slow.

“s-suguruuu make him slow d-down, ’m too sensitive,” you begin to babble even more even though the grasp gojo had on your hair hindered you from seeing geto. “ ‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry i didn’t were panties to the party. ‘won’t happen again, i-i’m fuu—uck ‘m sorry.”

a darkened laugh feel from geto’s lips, and your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head at his next words.

“she’s real sensitive now gojo, make her squirt while she’s babbling on...”

your hands went to reach out at gojo’s abdomen, pushing at it until he slapped your hand away. pink acrylic decorated fingernails tossed aside. only for his palm to slide across your lower stomach softly, then came an immense amount of pressure as he pressed down right where his cock hit.

“satoru f-fuck you, y-you asshole,” you swore at him between moans in embarrassment. your lips forming into what he deemed to be a beautiful pout.

“shut up and take it.” he bit back, watching as a tears fell from your eyes.

“i feel like i’m g-gonna pee…”

“let it out princess, you know what we want…” geto coaxed from the corner of the room.

the room around you became a muffled mess as you began to drown out any outside noise. you were sure you were floating the way you felt your release leave your body. it wasn’t until you came to that you realized you had had begun crying as you sprayed your orgasm all over gojo’s chest, squirting like your life depended on it. you felt him bury himself deep, releasing into your soaked cunt.

“fuck pretty girl, let up,” gojo groaned out at how you tightened around him.

“gojo get her on her stomach, lay under her,” geto called out as got up from the chair. it wasn’t long before gojo flipped you two over into position, sliding his hardening length into your messy cunt once more. it wasn’t until you felt geto trying to fit himself in with gojo that you reacted with a moan. hand reach back to push at his abdomen.

“you won’t fit, baby,” you whined.

“i will, don’t worry…we’ll make it fit.” geto planted a kiss on the side of your mouth pushing the hand that tried to move him against your lower back, your face against gojo’s flushed chest.

and geto lived up to his promise, pushing into you and rubbing against gojo.

“oh fuck, suguru” gojo choked out, realizing he was still sensitive from cumming previously. their thrusts were matched as they rubbed against each other in your cunt. filling you up to the brim as geto arm wrapped around your torso, between yourself and gojo, to rub and toy with your extremely sensitive clit. the room felt hot. every breath felt forced and useless as they abused your sensitive spots. tears and incomplete babbling falling repeatedly.

“i love youu, fuuck iloveyoutwo” you managed to get out as you cried. tears sliding against gojos chest as you neared your release.

“we know baby, cum one more time for us, show us how much you love us,” geto sounds like he was almost pleading. his harden demeanor shedding away, “just one more time, good girl…”

and your body listened. you’d squirted again, feeling your breath hitch as you did so. the room felt like it was spinning as your eyes fell shut, sleep taking you over as gojo and geto pulled out. a mixture of cum leaking from your used cunt.

“did she pass out?” gojo chuckled. pushing your now curled hair back from your face in observation. hand caressing your cheek.

“she did,” geto joined him in laughing as he leaned over to press a kiss onto his lips, "but lets stop laughing, if we wake her up she's going to use whatever energy she can to kill us."

#𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨:#jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru gojo #suguru geto #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #smut #satoru gojo x black!reader #suguru geto x black!reader #suguru geto x reader smut #geto x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #satosugu x reader #satosugu x black!reader #satosugu smut

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ourmadmusings · 1 year ago

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a/n: Miguel O’Hara does not get a spidey-sense in the comics. His senses are super-human, yes, but his hearing, sense of smell, and even his eyes are hyper-sensitive, to the point that he wears tinted glasses to keep his eyes from too much light exposure - He suffers from debilitating migraines from his eyes.

It starts with a single sharp throb in his left temple, every single time.

he’s at his desk, staring at screens all day lately, he lets out the most pathetic groan.

quickly, the space behind his eyes starts to throb, too, and eventually he gets spots in his vision before his whole head is in a tight vice, the muscle band around his skull cinching.

he leaves his desk and his watch. He tells his AI not to disturb him.

you, of course, are out on a task to collect an anomaly.

his eyes are swimming by the time he falls face-first into his bed, wrapping a pillow around his face to keep any light out. He falls asleep pretty quickly after that.

“Miguel?” It’s a whisper, hardly heard by a normal ear, but he picks you up immediately. He’d heard you walking up to his front door, actually. “Hey, honey, how’re’ya feelin?” He feels the bed dip as you sit and groans in response. You tut a little, reaching out to rub small circles in the muscles on his back. Your usual sweet scent makes him nauseated. You’d even gone home to shower, forgoing any perfume of any kind, just a bar soap, but it wasn’t enough. Your hands move to massage his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension. If he could, he’d be purring like a cat at the touch. “Headache.” He finally says, voice so small it makes your chest ache. Super-human eyesight means super-human migraines. You stand, and he protests the lack of touch, going to gather his pain killers, some water, and a tube of icy-hot. You all but pull him up, keeping his pillow on his eyes the whole time. “Open.” he simply pops his mouth open and you place three small, green pills in. You hand him the water and shift to straddle his back. Your legs are stretched almost too much as he settles into your chest. You pop the cap of the muscle relaxer and make quick work of spreading it over his neck, shoulders, and around his forehead. Trying your best to massage away some of the pain, the man could cry at how gentle you’re being. He’s sure you’re beat up and bruised from your mission, and yet here you sit, your touch so gentle he thinks he could have died in this moment and died happy, despite the constant shocks of pain in his head. “Thanks,” is all you get as he moves down to lay in your lap, trying to fall back to sleep as you run your hands through his hair. You don’t reply, but his breath evens out quickly - he’ll feel better in the morning.

#across the spiderverse #spider-man: across the spider-verse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara hc

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runraerun · 15 days ago

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ao3 • 6.1k • @steddie-spooktober day 30 prompt: “Where did you find that costume?” • beta: @netflixandchilis ��🖤

Summary:

“This is not a sex costume.” Steve rolls his eyes, “I swear, I could show up dressed as a clown and you guys would accuse me of—”

Steve doesn’t have time to brace himself before Eddie reaches forward and yanks. The sound of tearing velcro is deafening, and so is the silence that follows afterward.

His entire cop costume is suddenly off of his body and somehow, inexplicably, in the hands of Eddie Munson.

Or, unbeknownst to Steve, he shows up to Eddie’s Halloween party dressed as a stripper.

*Knock knock knock*

Steve steps back from Eddie’s front door, then rocks back on the heels of his boots that he hasn’t fully broken in yet. He knows that technically, he could just stroll into the trailer—he’s done it before after all, but sue him; he’s feeling playful tonight. And if there’s one night a year you’re allowed to embarrass yourself a little in the name of shits and giggles, it’s Halloween, right?

Steve had drawn the short straw between the four of them and was saddled with babysitting duty earlier tonight. As usual, Steve thinks with an amused sort of bitterness. Always the goddamn babysitter…

He’d just finished dropping the kids all off at Henderson’s house for a sleepover, but this was after they had forced him to trail after the lot of them for what felt like an eternity while they filled their pillow cases up with sugary garbage. Steve’s fucking exhausted.

When no one answers the door, Steve steps forward again, delivering three sharp knocks in quick succession.

“Hawkins PD, open up,” he bellows, giving what he considers is a fairly decent Hopper impression.

Steve’s skin prickles against a sudden cool breeze. He hooks his thumbs into his belt and waits on the creaky front porch, trying not to squirm against the wedgie that this outfit seems determined to give him.

Cheap ass costume…

The front door swings open, and Steve is suddenly bathed in the warm, welcoming light of the trailer’s interior. Robin, who has a football helmet on, along with some kind of orange jumpsuit with tubes wrapped around her torso, looks him up and down.

Before she can even say a single word though, Steve cuts her off, playing at arrogance.

“Got a couple of noise complaints, ma’am. Are your folks home? I’m gonna need—”

Robin holds her hands up with barely contained glee, “Wait wait, hold on! Just stay right there.”

The door slams shut in his face, leaving Steve in the darkness of the porch again. Through the door, Steve hears Robin yell for Eddie, but can’t make out much of the muffled voices after that.

Left on the porch with nothing but his thoughts Steve can’t help but wonder if Robin even recognized him. The fake stache wasn’t that convincing… was it?

“Man, c’mon…” Steve sighs, stepping forward and knocking again, this time with more force. He’s very quickly regretting his decision to ham it up as opposed to just walking in, kicking off the uncomfortable boots he’d been wearing all evening, and plopping down on Eddie’s lumpy, yet deceptively comfy sofa.

“C’mon, open up, Hawkins Police.” Steve calls again, trying to keep his exhaustion out of his voice.

In a blink, the door swings open again. Steve makes the extra effort to push his shoulders back and puff out his chest. This time, instead of Robin being the one haloed in the dingy light illuminating the trailer, it’s Eddie. A very confused, shockingly pale, cape-wearing Eddie.

Steve tilts his head back and peers down through his dark aviators at his friend, trying to maintain a stern, authoritative demeanor. His lip itches from underneath the stupid fake facial hair he’s got taped to his face. He can’t wait to rip the damn thing off.

Eddie grips the edge of the doorway, apparently stunned into silence.

“Sir, did you or anyone in this household place a call to 911 this evening?” Steve barks, trying his best to lean into his power-tripping asshole persona he’s decided to adopt.

“What the–” Eddie starts, but doesn’t seem to have any words to follow. His wide, dark eyes roam over the uniform and his twitching smile says enough.

Steve’s putting on a good show, it seems.

“Because it’s a criminal offense to prank call an emergency hotline, sir.” Steve leans forward, hoping for intimidation, “I could have you arrested.”

Steve suddenly becomes aware of Nancy and Robin both snickering in the background, watching the interaction with seemingly great interest. Eddie, for the most part, appears frozen at the door. It’s an odd bunch of reactions if Steve is being honest—he’s just dicking around, after all. Was he really being that out of pocket?

“Shteve, where in the fresh hell…?” A bewildered looking Eddie begins, his words slightly slurred, almost as if he has a lisp. Then Steve spots them; the sharp toothed plastic tray of vampire teeth that Eddie’s got stuffed into his mouth, making his lips pucker out just a bit. He looks ridiculous. If anyone should be laughing, it should be Steve. But instead of waiting for everyone to get their shit together, Steve forges on. He makes a show of sniffing the air. He slowly pulls the aviators down his nose to shoot Eddie a look. “Is that marijuana I smell, son? You kids smoking the devil’s lettuce in there?”

Robin sounds like she’s choking on something, Nancy’s all but retreated back into the trailer, unable to contain herself. Was it really that funny? Steve knows he can get the girls laughing on occasion, but he’s not like, a comedian or anything. And this cop bit he’s doing wasn’t even all that funny, even he can admit that. It’s just dorky fun. But Eddie’s shoulders are shaking and he’s giggling hard enough that he’s gone all quiet. Steve briefly wonders if he has something on his face…? Besides the stache, of course.

A particularly cool breeze hits his side, and he can physically feel himself break character as he brings his shoulders up to his ears in an attempt to brace against it. This cheap fucking costume does absolutely dick all to keep the cold out.

“Alright alright, jokes over, just let me in already.” But when Steve takes a step to pass through the door, Eddie quickly holds a hand to Steve’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. With his other free hand, he noisily pulls the vampire teeth from his mouth, a string of spit connecting the two until Eddie wipes his mouth with the back of a hand.

“Slow your roll, Sargent Cinnamon,” Eddie exclaims, barely able to contain his laughter to get the words out, “Jesus Christ, Steve, you’re gonna get the actual cops called on us.”

Sargent Cinnamon?

Steve takes off his aviators, perplexed. “What? Why?”

“Just—just turn around for me for a minute.” Eddie says. His hand falls from Steve’s chest as Steve begrudgingly takes a step back.

“Yeah, give us a spin, Steve.” Robin calls from the kitchenette, and Eddie gives a noisy laugh through his nose in what looks like a failed attempt to withhold a full on fucking belly laugh from escaping.

“Why?” Steve makes a face as he asks again, defenses up.

“We just have to confirm something.” Eddie says, playing coy.

Now that Steve’s really looking at him, he can see Eddie’s clearly dressed as a vampire. He’s all in black, though most of him is covered up by the long, heavy looking cape that’s tied around his shoulders and draping down his back. The collar of it looks stiff, its points reach damn near up to his cheekbones. His eyes are rimmed with dark makeup, making them pop even more than they usually do. Most striking of all though, is the white makeup that’s smeared all over his face, down his neck, and even over his mouth. It makes for a shock when he speaks or laughs, the deep red of the inside of his mouth contrasting sharply with the undead paleness of the rest of his face.

He looks… good. Spooky, but good. Especially now that those chunky fake fangs are out. Maybe Steve should have dressed as something spooky too…

“C’mon, just let me in. I don’t wanna spin.” Steve frowns. He does not pout. His lip may or may not jut out the tiniest of amounts. But Steve Harrington does not pout.

Eddie’s brows pinch together in mock sympathy, “oh, I’m so sorry Officer, but in that case, we’re gonna need you to come back with a warrant.”

Steve sighs. He’s cold, annoyed, and he’s pretty sure there’s two big watery blisters on the backs of his heels that’ll need patching up before the night is out. “Dude–”

Eddie holds out a finger, silencing Steve, “ah ah ah. You don’t get to show up here dressed like that and not put on a show.”

Steve’s brain stutters to a halt. “...I’m just dressed as a cop. What’s the big deal? Why’re you guys acting so weird?”

“Less yapping, more spinning, Deputy.” Eddie smiles wide, tilting his head. Despite being a total shithead at the moment, that smile never seems to fail at making Eddie look strangely endearing. It’s like a trap—one Steve always seems to be tumbling into as of late.

He gives a noisy groan of frustration to show exactly how ridiculous he thinks this whole thing is, before he complies and slowly turns around on the spot. Steve puts out his arms in defeat, suppressing yet another urge to dig at the wedgie now firmly up his ass. “There. Happy? Any more questions or demands?”

“Yeah, just the one,” Eddie says, seeming no less entertained than if Steve had just burped the whole alphabet backwards while simultaneously juggling a set of kitchen knives. “Where did you find that costume?”

Steve feels his neck go red, then his ears. He stuffs his hands under his armpits to try and warm them up, then shrugs defensively, not fully knowing why he is so embarrassed, only that he is. “Just a regular costume store.”

“What store exactly?” Robin calls from behind Eddie while she nurses a beer, “was there, oh, I don’t know, lingerie in the window of this costume store?”

And with that, there’s simply no helping it; Steve’s face goes scarlet. “No! It was just that pop-up Halloween store—the one next to Family Video. Robin, you went there too, what’s the big deal?”

“Did you happen to have crossed a beaded doorway in order to get to this costume by any chance?” Eddie asks in mock curiosity, barely withholding more of his obnoxiously loud laughter.

Steve opens his mouth to deny the downright weird accusation but… thinking back on it, he may have hit some beads at a certain point while he was in that shop.

Oh God…

“There’s that lightbulb,” Eddie gives a smarmy type of smile, “knew it would turn on eventually.”

Steve casts a glare between Eddie and Robin. They’re just poking fun at him, surely. If he’s being honest, he’s sort of sick of them ganging up on him lately. It’s like, all of the sudden, Eddie and Robin had just decided to become besties. They were always whispering and sharing these weird, heated looks between the two of them, ones Steve could never interpret. Like they suddenly had a whole slew of inside jokes that they refused to let Steve in on. It was infuriating!

If he didn’t know for a fact that there was no possibility of a romance between the two of them he would think they were hooking up. But no, apparently they’ve just bonded over their shared love of torturing ex-jocks. It’s like fucking Revenge of the Nerds out here.

“This is not a sex costume.” he growls, bunching his shoulders up just a little in an attempt to keep the breeze away from his neck.

“Steve,” Eddie’s voice goes soft, as if he’s opting to break the news to Steve gently, “you’re dressed as a stripper, man.”

“No, I’m not!” Steve shouts before he thinks better of it. He reels it in, but only a little, “It’s just… I’m just a cop. Okay, maybe it’s a sexy cop, but it’s just a stupid joke costume! It’s not my fault the outfit looks good on me, alright? That doesn’t make it a stripper outfit.”

Eddie nods empathetically, “right right, sure.”

“It’s true!”

“Totally, yeah.”

“I’m being serious!”

“Oh, I know you are.”

“It’s just a little tight is all.”

“I’ll say.”

Steve huffs, “I swear, I could show up dressed as a goddamn clown and you guys would accuse me of–”

Steve doesn’t have time to brace himself before Eddie reaches forward and yanks. The sound of tearing velcro is deafening, and so is the silence that follows directly afterward.

The entire front of his cop costume is off of his body and somehow, inexplicably, in the hands of Eddie Munson. And without the support of the front piece, Steve feels the entire back half of his costume follow suit, slipping down and off of his shoulders. Humiliatingly, the only reason it doesn’t hit the ground altogether is because the fabric is so securely lodged in between Steve’s ass cheeks.

Either way, he’s standing there, on the Munson’s front porch, in front of Eddie, in nothing more than his bright red boxers that he put on this morning, his uncomfortable fucking boots, his fake stache, and the octagonal police cap he’s got resting atop his head.

Eddie takes a deep breath, not even bothering to try and hide the way he’s basking in Steve’s utter humiliation. “Well well well. Looks like Christmas came early this year, huh?”

Robin at least has done him the good favor of collapsing somewhere in the living room, shrieking in laughter.

“Wh–Why would you do that!?” Steve clumsily grabs for the cap atop his head before holding it to his crotch in a flimsy attempt to preserve at least some of his dignity.

“Honestly? Because I don’t have a lot of impulse control,” Eddie admits truthfully, “but mostly I did it to prove to you that you did, in fact, show up to my party dressed as a stripper.”

Steve’s had enough. He grumbles out every single curse word he knows and shoulders his way into the trailer, yanking the remainder of the costume off of his body and out of his ass as he goes. If Steve was cold before, he’s freezing now. His nipples could cut fucking glass.

“Don’t tell me you took the kids out trick or treating in this.” Eddie says, motioning towards him with the bundle of thin fabric that had been, up until a few seconds ago, Steve’s costume.

Steve snatches the dark blue remains of his outfit, suddenly furious. He’s sure his face matches the red of his boxers at this point. Boxers that are now on display for all to see, apparently!

He reaches up to angrily tear off the mustache from his upper lip, and has to bite back an honest to god scream as it tears away, taking some of his actual lip hair with it. It was like a fucking wax strip!

“You did.” Eddie gasps, all but clutching his damn pearls, utterly scandalized. “You really went around and gave the good folks of Hawkin’s a free fucking show tonight, huh? Jesus Christ, Harrington, you probably sent some poor fucker out there into cardiac arrest!”

“No, I–” Steve sputters, “well, yes, I wore the cop costume while I took the kids around a couple of neighborhoods, but there wasn’t any kind of show.”

“Were the mothers especially kind to you, Stevie?” Robin asks from her position on the sofa beside Nancy, one sandy brown brow arched. “Did they give you extra candy?”

“One, I didn’t go trick-or-treating, so I didn’t get any candy at all,” Steve says, suddenly reluctant about taking his boots off, wary of losing any more of his clothing. As he speaks, he shuffles behind the countertop in the kitchen area instead, hiding at least his lower half from further attention. Everyone had already seen his hairy chest plenty of times, but still. It was the indignity of it all! “And two, I didn’t know it was a stripper costume. And three, screw all of you.”

Thank Christ the kids seemed oblivious to that sort of thing still. Steve’s as relieved at preserving their innocence as he is grateful they didn’t bear witness to his great blunder.

“Didn’t it feel weird when you had to velcro the sides shut..?” Nancy asks, sheer amusement playing across her features.

“Well, in hindsight… yes.” Steve has to stop speaking because all three of his so-called friends dissolve in further fits of laughter. He has to shout to be heard over their cackling, “but I just thought it was because the costume was cheap!”

“Oh, Steve.” Nancy shakes her head, still giggling. She sounded a little drunk.

“Sweet, naive Dingus.” Robin adds, as if she were finishing her girlfriend's thoughts.

So now Nancy and Robin were ganging up on him too. And after Steve gave Robin his blessing to date his ex-girlfriend! Traitors, all of ‘em, Steve thinks haughtily as he crosses his arms and glares.

“C’mon big boy, you can borrow something of mine.” Eddie says, finally deciding to take pity on Steve. “Unless, of course, you want me to help velcro your ass back into that little number..?”

That’s the absolute last thing he wants. So, with an angry grumble, Steve accepts Eddie’s offer for clothes and follows him down the narrow hallway, into his bedroom. Steve all but collapses on the end of Eddie’s unmade bed, snatching a pillow and holding it to his lap as he watches Eddie dig around his dresser drawers.

Steve notices that Eddie’s oddly quiet now that they’re alone.

Steve was sort of used to Eddie’s constant prattling on when they were together—so much so, that the lack of it seems unnatural in its own sort of way. It’s damn near unsettling to be near Eddie and not have him chewing his ear off.

Eddie pulls some soft, gray clothing from his drawers, attempts to discreetly give it the cautionary sniff test, then turns to offer them up to Steve. “Here, these, uh, they should fit you. Elastic waistband.”

“Thanks.” Steve mumbles, still a little pissed at Eddie for the whole tearing him out of his clothes thing. To be fair, Steve would have probably returned the favor if the roles had been reversed and would have laughed just as hard. Maybe harder.

He shoves the shirt on, then discards the pillow in order to stand and attempt to rid himself of the godforsaken boots from hell... Steve is unnervingly aware that the red of his underwear stands out like a fucking fire engine.

Eddie turns his painted face away, suddenly very interested in the various posters on his wall.

“Oh, sure, now you’re shy.” Steve snorts, but when he steps on the backs of his heels in an effort to toe off his boots, he sucks in a sharp breath and wobbles back onto the bed, cursing. The sharp stinging pain from the blisters is enough to cut his breath. “Shit, shit, shit–”

“What is it? What happened?” Eddie’s full attention is back on Steve, and Steve’s insides squirm a little at the intensity of it. He kind of loves that about Eddie; how he can be flighty and erratic one minute, but wholly and completely laser focused on something the next.

And Steve is man enough to admit that he sort of likes it when that undivided attention lands on him. Admittedly, he likes it when anyone pays attention to him, but… it’s different with Eddie. Even Steve’s not entirely sure why. It just makes him feel… seen, maybe. Special. Understood?

Steve doesn’t fucking know. He gives his head a shake.

“It’s just these stupid boots. I’ve only worn them a few times and they always give me blisters. I shouldn’t have worn them tonight but I just thought they went good with the outfit...” Steve explains, as if it’s a confession. The price of vanity, he thinks bitterly. Steve lifts one of his feet until it’s propped up his opposite knee and begins working the boot off, flinching as he goes, “they’re just stinging a little, it’s fine.”

“I’ll get some band-aids.” Eddie mutters as he darts out of the room, nearly tripping over something in his haste. Steve can hear him digging through the cupboard in the bathroom through the paper-thin walls of the trailer. Eddie sounds like a goddamn tornado. But hey, what’s new? Dude is tornado incarnate.

By the time Eddie’s back, armed with a battered box of band-aids and a tube of Neosporin, Steve’s already managed to work off a boot and peel away one of his socks. He’s poking the painful, fluid-filled blister with a grimace.

“Here.” Eddie awkwardly passes both of the items to Steve. He practically shoves them into his hands. Steve accepts them all with a quick thanks and gets to work. He half expects Eddie to go and just leave Steve to it, but he doesn’t. Instead, Eddie just stands there, hovering in the middle of his bedroom, staring like a weirdo.

Which sounds harsh even in Steve’s own mind, but there really was no mistaking it; Eddie most definitely is a full-blown, bonafide, one-of-a-kind weirdo. But as time’s gone on, and the further Steve’s gotten away from high school, the more he’s realized that his favorite people in the whole world—the ones he’d lay down his life for any day of the fucking week—are all freaks and weirdos. And maybe that made him a weirdo freak right alongside them. And hey, if all the best people were weird, shouldn’t he be proud to be counted among them?

Steve finds he doesn’t entirely hate the concept.

“You must think I’m a moron, huh?” Steve mutters as he smears some of the antiseptic cream over the blister, then a band-aid overtop, flinching the whole way through.

“For getting a blister? Or for accidentally cosplaying as a sex worker?” Eddie asks, grinning. Knows he’s being a cheeky little shit.

Steve just scoffs and rolls his eyes, “it could’ve happened to anyone, y’know. The costume thing, I mean.”

He settles his bare foot on the ground and starts on his next boot.

“Maybe. But it’s funny because it happened to you.” Eddie aims a set of finger guns at him. Steve, despite himself, chuckles a little under his breath. It was sort of funny.

“I don’t, though, by the way.” The couple of words tumble out of Eddie’s mouth. Steve knows by now that when he isn’t following Eddie, all he usually needs to do is wait a few seconds. Eddie never seems to mind taking the time to further explain himself to Steve, unlike most other people. So, Steve just spares him a glance and waits. “Think you’re a moron, I mean. You’re just… more of a do first, think later kinda guy. It doesn’t make you dumb. Maybe a little foolhardy, is all.”

“Foolhardy?” Steve’s hands stop what they’re doing as he looks up at Eddie. Steve’s pretty sure he knows what it means, but who the hell throws around digs like that?

Well, come to think of it, Eddie Munson would. Between writing his own songs and making up those D&D campaigns, Eddie’s inner voice probably speaks to him in sonnets and soliloquies.

“It’s a good thing—well, it is when I say it…” Eddie rushes to explain, but seems to abandon a few trains of thoughts before shaking his head, “whatever, nevermind, forget I said anything.”

“I know what foolhardy means I just–” Steve doesn’t have any fight in him though, too focused on how fucking painful this blister is compared to the last. The sharp sting was enough to make his eyes embarrassingly prickle. “Fuuuuuck…” he groans as he pulls.

“Stop, stop, just–” Eddie kneels, taking a knee, before he grabs Steve’s boot.

“No no, Eddie, don’t–!” Steve shrieks, suddenly terrified of Eddie’s jumpy, erratic movements he’s known for. His foot can’t fucking take it…

“Calm down, I’ll pull it off slow. I’ll even give you a countdown. You just–just relax, alright?” Eddie says, looking downright ridiculous in his costume. And yet, despite how crazy he looks, Munson seems sincere. He liked to poke fun at Steve, sure, but Eddie wouldn’t hurt him. Steve knows that. And when Eddie’s fingers curl around the back of his calf, the touch is gentle. Steve’s skin heats underneath Eddie’s hold. It’s enough to make his head go a little fuzzy.

Trying to follow Eddie’s instruction, Steve hesitantly leans back on the heels of his hands, allowing his leg to go slack in Eddie’s grip. “Relax. Right. Okay.”

“Alright. My safe word’s Ronald Reagan, but you can borrow it for tonight if you want me to stop, cool?” Eddie looks up at him through his lashes. The liner around his eyes was really something else… And his hair looked especially poofy tonight. Like Steve’s hands could get lost in there. Were those plastic spiders in his hair? God, Steve hoped they were plastic spiders…

A beat passes before Steve’s brain catches up with him. “Why the hell is Ronald Reagan your safe word?”

“Because nothing kills my boner faster than thinking about that dickwad. Duh.” Eddie explains, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was, but Steve wasn’t exactly experienced with things like safe words and… well, the things that normally go along with safe words.

He feels himself shift anxiously at the idea. He wondered if Eddie was just making a joke or if he actually…

“Ready?” Eddie interrupts and utterly derails that particular train of thought. He’s cradling Steve’s booted foot, one hand low on Steve’s calf, the other gripping the bottom of the boot. Real comforting like.

Steve takes a quick breath before giving a sharp nod. “Ready.”

“3, 2, 1, deep breaths everyone!” Eddie says, and true to his word, he pulls off slowly, trying to angle the boot away from Steve’s heel as best he can. Steve clenches his teeth through the whole thing, determined not to utter the president's name. “Aaaaand we’re done!” Eddie says triumphantly.

Steve sighs, and lets himself fall onto the bed in relief. He’s built up a bit of a tolerance for pain over the past few years (purely out of necessity), but he still fucking hates it. Even if it’s something small like this. Call him a pussy for it, whatever. Steve doesn’t care.

When he feels Eddie begin peeling off his sock though, Steve bolts upright, returning to his seated position. “Y-you don’t gotta do that part–”

Eddie shrugs nonchalantly and continues peeling away the sock. “It’s okay, I wanna help.”

“My feet probably fucking reek, dude. I’ve been wearing those all day.” Steve wrinkles his nose. The idea that Eddie could possibly be repulsed by him in some way just doesn’t sit right with Steve. “You don’t–... I-I can do this part.”

“I told you, I don’t care.” Eddie says as he peels away Steve’s sweaty, ripe sock before sticking it into the no doubt equally sweaty, ripe boot.

Eddie's now kneeling in front of a pantless and sockless Steve—to say he felt exposed would be an understatement. He watches as Eddie takes the tube of Neosporin in hand and squeezes out a glob onto his finger and lines it up with Steve’s heel.

“Unless,” Eddie halts, as if an idea had just occurred to him, “unless you don’t want me to.”

The two of them just stare at one another for a few seconds, as if they’re both just realizing that they don’t really know the limits of their friendship yet. Both of them seem to be asking the other for permission to cross some kind of a line that they don’t know even exists or not. It should be awkward, but somehow it isn’t. It’s a little uncomfortable, sure, but… exciting, in a weird way.

Steve swallows, “no, I want you to. I mean, if you want to, of course. I—”

I like it when you touch me.

The thought hits Steve with such a sudden and sharp clarity that for a second he’s not sure if he’s said it out loud or not.

But if Eddie somehow heard it, he doesn’t let on.

Instead, the sides of his mouth twitch into a tentative grin, but then Eddie ducks his head before Steve can watch it blossom fully into a smile, though he can tell by the way his cheeks rise near his eyes that it indeed does.

Eddie smears the antiseptic cream on Steve’s blister with guitar string scarred fingers, with more care than most people bother using when they reach for Steve. Then he wipes his hands on his own bed sheets before unpeeling a bandaid from its wrapping and laying it overtop of everything. He smooths a finger overtop of it, once, then twice for good measure. Why Eddie runs his finger over the band-aid a third time, Steve hasn’t got a clue.

There’s something about the way Eddie so can flip the switch from being a loud, boisterous, all out terror of a human being, to this sincere, gentle… almost sweet person. It’s hard for Steve to wrap his head around. Especially since Eddie doesn’t show the second side nearly as often as the first–and only to a lucky handful of people. Steve’s one of those happy few.

It’s like a secret Eddie.

Steve briefly wonders if there’s a secret Steve, but if there is, not even he knows about him. Steve has a feeling he’s more of a ‘what you see is what you get’ kinda guy. Hopefully, that doesn’t mean he’s shallow.

And just when Steve thinks Eddie’s done with him, the guy spins around and rummages in his top drawer for a few seconds before turning back with a rolled up set of fresh socks for Steve. Without a word, he kneels and begins putting them on Steve’s foot for him.

Which…

Honestly, Steve doesn’t know how to feel about it. Good, obviously. That much, at least, is crystal fucking clear. But there’s more. Like the fluttery sort of warmth that comes specifically when someone brings you a bowl of hot soup when you’re sick, or cares enough to hold your hair back for you while you puke your guts out after drinking too much. It’s that same sort of feeling. Only more.

“Thanks, man.” Steve says, utterly relieved his voice comes out sounding steadier than he’s feeling. Because… Well, because no one takes care of Steve, except Steve. It’s been that way since he was old enough to tie his own shoes. He’s always on his own. Self-sufficient. Steve takes a sort of pride in it.

But here’s Eddie, on his knees, tending to him, even though Steve can do it perfectly fine on his own. He’s still doing it for Steve, and for the hell of him, Steve can’t wrap his head around why. And all of it over some stupid blisters. It makes Steve’s chest ache, fixing to burst.

“No problem, Officer. Just doing my civic duty.” Eddie’s tone is soft when he flicks his eyes up briefly, paired with a grin. He finishes putting the fresh set of socks on Steve’s feet, careful to avoid the blisters. The socks are pilled, and scratchy, as if neither Wayne nor Eddie bothers with fabric softener, but they’re comfortable enough and blissfully warm.

“Well the city of Hawkins thanks you too, Mr. Munson.” Steve replies with a two fingers salute, attempting to match Eddie’s energy, but the words sound so deeply stupid when they’re strung together like that, that it has them both chuckling.

“Christ, you’re cute.” Eddie mutters, dragging a knuckle under his eye to clear away the stray tear that had formed from all of the laughing he’s done tonight. Then Steve watches as that easy smile that he had just been so admiring quickly fall away as Eddie seems to realize what he’d just said.

Eddie thinks he’s cute?

The question of what kind of cute he was referring to bombards Steve's brain. Cute could mean a hell of a lot of things—from puppies with big wet eyes to Michelle Pfeiffer in a skin tight leotard. Or maybe Eddie didn’t mean to say cute at all. Yeah, maybe it just slipped out. Hell, maybe Eddie’s just high. He does get a little extra tactile and emotional when he’s high. And Eddie definitely smells like weed, but—well, Eddie always smells like weed.

“Here’s your–” Eddie suddenly stands, cape fluttering behind him, and tosses the sweatpants from earlier back at Steve who catches it with ease, despite the newly unmoored feeling he’s got in his gut. Steve suspects Eddie’s blushing by the way he’s holding himself, but because of all the makeup, Steve can’t be sure. Eddie anxiously twists his rings around his fingers muttering a quiet, “sorry, man.”

It’s said so timidly that Steve almost misses the tacked-on apology entirely. Now, timid isn’t usually something that Steve would associate with Eddie Munson but, well, there it is. And despite their playful back and forth with one another, Steve can tell this is wholly different. He doesn’t—can’t leave Eddie standing there with egg on his face.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not—it’s whatever, dude.” Steve says, forever baffled at how the English language, the only language he even knows and is apparently fluent in, still manages to sound like knotted garbage when it comes out of his mouth. He shoves his legs through the sweatpants, yanking them up to his waist.

Eddie seems to get it though, thankfully. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve says, quick, casual-like.

Eddie chews on his lip. “I didn’t make it weird?”

At this, Steve barks out a laugh. Because, yeah but… well, if Eddie started going around apologizing every time he did something weird the guy would never stop apologizing.

And Steve likes Eddie’s flavor of weird anyway.

“Hey, I’m the one who showed up to your house dressed as a stripper, didn’t I? If anyone’s made it weird tonight, it’s me.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, briefly concerned about how the stupid hat probably left an embarrassing indent where it was sitting.

Eddie’s wide smile is back, the one that lines his face and makes his eyes do that starlight thing. “That’s true.” He chuckles.

“I like your costume though.” Steve grins, feeling that fluttery feeling in his chest when he gets Eddie smiling like that. “Vampire, right?”

If possible, Eddie’s eyes widen further, giving him a manic look. He hastily pats his various pockets before finding his fake fangs and shoving them into his mouth. They look terrible, but admittedly, they sort of complete the overall look.

“That’s Count Dracula to you, foolish mortal.” Eddie says with a truly terrible Transylvanian accent as he dramatically swishes his cape over one of his arms, then positions it underneath his kohl-rimmed eyes.

Steve pretends to cower, but he’s always been kind of a shitty actor so he just ends up snorting and shaking his head. “Terrifying. If you hadn’t torn it off me earlier, I’m sure I would have shivered right out of my uniform.”

And again, it’s enough for Eddie to break character and bark out a laugh around his plastic fangs. He recovers quickly though, a smile still pulling at the sides of his mouth.

“C’mon, the girlsh have probably put the movie on without ush.” Eddie says with a very distinct lisp. It’s sort of adorable.

It’s profoundly less adorable after Steve hears how Eddie needs to suck back the spit trapped between his teeth and the tray so he doesn't drool all over himself.

Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t end up wearing the fake fangs for the whole movie, especially not after Nancy demands their removal after two or three noisy, spit-retrieving sucks. There’s some petty back and forth that lasts a couple of seconds, but it’s settled quickly and amicably, as most of their squabbles are.

Steve and Eddie spend the majority of the horror flick pressed up against one another, from shoulder to knee. Steve’s not entirely sure what the hell is happening between them, but whatever it is… it’s nice.

And when there’s a particularly scary bit that makes Steve nearly jump out of his skin, Eddie teases him and slaps a patronizing hand to his knee just to further torment him, but it’s the damnedest thing. Even after the joke’s over, and their collective focus is back (in theory) on the movie, Eddie just… doesn’t take his hand back. Neither one of them seems keen on addressing it either, afraid to spook whatever it is away.

They stay that way for the rest of the movie. He doesn’t risk putting his hand over top of Eddie’s—he can’t. Not yet, at least. But Steve will think about little else besides the feeling of Eddie’s warm hand curled around the top of his knee, searing into him like a brand, for many nights to come.

It’s hands down the most embarrassing Halloween Steve’s ever had—but it’s also kinda the best, thanks to Eddie.

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covetyou · 6 months ago

Note

please impregnate dieter

ok bye 💜👽🛸

fine 👽🛸 beam him up, boys.

propagation

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!alien rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub/non-con (because alien abduction), alien impregnation, implied mpreg, anal sex (including rimming and fingering), tentacle (just one), belly bulge, alien gender includes humanoid alien ladies with shapeshifting tentacle dicks, spaceship bondage, light mind control. word count: 2.8k summary: He always knew their existence to be fact, but Dieter Bravo never considered their continued existence would one day rely on him.

A/N: seeded left me with too many thots, so I accidentally stayed up until 4am writing this, and finished it this morning, thanks to this comment of yours. I hope you're happy. I have very thoroughly impregnanted That Man™, with his own hypervirile sperm.

And for anyone curious, he was beamed up into the spaceship like a Sim.

tagging a few unfortunate people who have expressed interest in my little weirdo:

@sp00kymulderr @umnitsa @missredherring @thereaperisabitch @magpiepills

@pedge-page @max--phillips

Dieter has no clue how long he's been here. It could be minutes, it could be weeks. Time stopped meaning much of anything pretty quickly - that's how it goes when you're trussed up in a windowless room, strapped up by some extraterrestrial technology the likes of which he hadn't even seen imagined on the most bizarre of movie sets.

Logically, he knows he should be afraid. If there's one thing Dieter Bravo knows, it's to fear the unknown. But, some part deep inside him knew this to always be true. These things that have him existed long before he did and would go on to exist long after him too. Even deeper down he knows that what they're doing to him right now is to ensure that continued existence.

There's no other reason he can think of for being in a position like this.

Or stripped entirely naked.

And nothing else will quite explain the contraption currently strapped to his cock.

No amount of wiggling will dislodge it, and between the way his arms are strapped up and the way his hips are hoisted high in the air, his head left to dangle as it pleases, he doesn't think it's coming off anytime soon. It's a good thing he kind of likes it, even if it does make him feel a bit like a dairy cow.

In the minutes, hours, days, since he's been here, not a single soul has bothered to come in to see him. He didn't know if this damn tube that was pumping him was even okay to piss into, or where his next meal would come from. Realistically, he hadn't thought that he'd die here - it didn't feel like that kind of thing. Still, the fact remained that he hadn't seen a single living thing since the light took him and the floating feeling took over his body.

It was a floaty feeling, thanks to the position he's been kept in, that hasn't quite left him. Between that and his cock being relentlessly pumped without reprieve or release, he's starting to feel desperately lonely here, floating through space or wherever here is.

No sooner does he think it, when there's a hiss of mechanical doors behind him. Dieter opens his eyes - he'd closed them some time ago - and there she is, stalking towards him on two long legs, talking to him in a tongue he's never heard.

It's an unnatural voice. Somehow too high, and too low, and lilting, and rumbling all at once. It's the voice of a dream, one he's had before, except this time it's so very real. It wraps itself around him and lodges into his bones, vibrating sound through to his core until he's gasping and suddenly understanding everything.

This is a processing chamber. He is to be processed, bred, and released.

The newfound knowledge isn't exactly a relief, but he supposes the machine trying to milk his cock without letting him come just yet makes sense. The longer he teased himself, the more he had to give, and it seemed these lifeforms already knew that too.

She purrs, dark eyes bright and curious, and it sends a jolt to his cock, twitching and swelling in the grip of the machine. If he wasn't sure about coming before, now he's certain. He doesn't care who, or what they are. He just wants to burst, to give them every last drop he has, and to make a show of it for the alien thing standing behind him. She's beautiful. Her skin practically glitters, shimmers holographic, translucent, full of sunbeams and starlight. Her eyes trace him, examining every inch, before settling between his legs where his engorged cock hangs and his balls draw up in a desperate attempt to come.

But the machine still keeps him on the cusp of losing it.

Even when one elongated finger reaches out to stroke him, tracing down the seam of his sack, he can't come, and that's when he realizes it's her doing.

"Please. You can have it. All of it. Just please..." his voice sounds thick and just about as alien to his ears as hers did, but he knows she understands him.

He knows, because with a blip and a soft whine, he's being maneuvered in his restraints by some unseen force. With legs spread wider, and his shoulders pulled back, that ethereal voice hums through him again.

...Ready for processing...

It's her. Dieter can see her out of the corner of his eye as he twists in his restraints. But she's changed. Sort of.

She still looks effervescent - her skin shifting and fizzing under his gaze - but so much about her has expanded and grown. Her fingers have gotten longer, wider, the tips practically glowing with each throb of blood through her veins. She seems taller too, and broader, rounder, but he's struggling to work out what's a trick of the too-bright light and what's real. Fuck, everything feels so real.

Most of all what Dieter notices, and can't take his eyes off, is the swelling appendage between her legs that definitely wasn't there a moment ago. He'd almost mistake it for a cock, if it wasn't for the way it moved and writhed, as if a limb all on its own.

He should be scared. He knows he should. But he knows that all that's between him and coming is being processed, and he's quite liking the look of what that means.

Another tingle ripples through him, just as the cool weight of her drops down behind him.

...Commence lubrication...

Something slippery and long slides along his ass. It slips between his cheeks, wet and slick as it glides across his puckered hole, leaving trails across his skin. Dieter can't help the groan that leaves him. If this is lubrication, he can't wait for what comes next.

And then it slides inside, the slender tip breaching his asshole for a moment, feeling wetter than any tongue he's ever had there before. He can't help but twitch in his restraints, his legs trying desperately to give him momentum to rut into the air, to give him more friction so he can just come already.

Instead, he's held still by long fingers with too many knuckles. Fingers so long they wrap around his entire thigh, anchoring him in place. He's totally at the mercy if her and her tongue - because that's definitely what it is, even if the feeling of it swirling around his rim is more than a little different to the human tongues he was used to.

It probes into him deeper, and he groans in his restraints. The machine on his cock has stopped it's sucking, but it hasn't given up it's grip. He can't bust even if he wanted to, and he's starting to think she's never going to let him come.

He can feel it. The tongue slipping deeper, her mouth meeting the skin of his asshole, and the slick rush of liquid as it pours into his hole.

He's begging. He can hear it distantly coming from his own mouth, before the soft lullaby of her voice rings in his head and turns his bones to jelly.

But then she's gone. Her mouth unlatching from his ass, the tongue slipping from his hole, and the fizz of knowing is back in his head.

...Lubrication complete...

There's so much of it he can feel it dribble and bubble out of him, leaving gloopy trails down his thighs as he shudders in the bindings keeping him hoisted high.

He can see pools of it on the floor beneath him too, and more dripping in oily globs out of him as he shudders. No lube, or saliva, he's ever experienced is like this. Nothing has ever pumped so deep and felt so good.

...Commence dilation...

Fear.

Fear because he knows those words, but doesn't know what it means for him here and now, with his ass so he exposed to her and his cock at the mercy of the machine. Dieter tries in vain to move, to tuck his ass under so he's a little less exposed.

But it's no use.

The long fingers find his thighs again, and that voice echoes through his head, bringing him to calm as the tip of one throbbing finger strokes against the slick of his hole.

When it pushes in, the stretch feels no different to the toys he's used on his own ass, or the many people he's had fuck him before. It feels good. Incredible even. Each slight fuck of the finger into him coinciding with a deep throb in his asshole.

The bulbous tip of her finger pops in and out of him, drawing more moans out of him as his rim is stretched around the appendage.

When the thinks dilation isn't too bad, her other hand creeps up to his ass, pulling him apart and holding him open.

The stretch is deeper like this. And he's nodding his head, spurring her on to finger his ass more, to go deeper and curl just the way he loves until she's milking his prostate. He knows he can come like that. He doesn't need anything on his cock, he just needs some well practiced fingers in his ass, and he has a feeling this creature is extremely well practiced at this.

Deeper doesn't come, but the stretch does. It's the stretch of another of her thick tipped fingers being pushed into his hole. And when that pops past the resistance of his asshole, he yelps, his chin wobbling in a feeble sob. Dieter can't help but gyrate his hips. He's so desperate for more he's willing to risk those fingers pulling out and holding him in place.

Except they don't.

She lets him rut this time. He can feel the pleasant approval from her in his mind as he rocks himself in the air, fucking her fingers as deep as his shallow movements will allow.

Even when the fingers tug at him in opposite directions, he doesn't stop rocking. He feels so full and stretched, that he barely registers a third finger joining the others until it's too late.

He almost panics. Almost, because he's fairly certain at that same moment she tells him to calm, to relax, and he does. The tense muscles in his asshole give in to the fingers and let them in, all three fucking into him and stretching him beyond anything he's had before. Even a fourth, and final, finger doesn't draw response from him beyond a whimper and a sob, his hips still doing whatever they can to get the digits deeper.

...Dilation complete...

And then they're gone.

And he feels so empty.

"Please. Please you can't. Don't leave me like this, please. You've got to - I need to - please. Anything. I'll do anything."

Dieter knows he's babbling. Knows she might not even understand a word he's saying, mess that he is. But he doesn't care. He's never been so desperate in his life. He wants her fingers back, or her tongue, or even that terrifying thing writhing between her legs -

...Commence insemination...

He doesn't even hear it, even though it's right there inside of his brain, unavoidable. Dieter doesn't hear, because the moment the voice floats into his body, the slick tip of her cock, more like a tentacle than any penis he'd ever seen, slips easily inside of him.

It's immediately swelling and growing as it slips deeper. He can feel as he's stretched wider and wider around it, the whines that leave his chest turning more and more desperate with each throb of the thing plundering his hole. It's deeper than anything has ever been, he can feel it as it wriggles around through him, pushing aside organs and pulsing into the deepest parts of him. It's impossibly wide too, the deep stretch in his asshole unlike anything he's ever felt, even two cocks being no match for this thing she's wedged inside of him.

And the deeper it pushes, the wider it pulls him, the more he craves it, the more he needs something to anchor him down and ground him even as he floats along, hoisted in the air of a fucking spaceship to be bred by an alien creature.

Whoever his captor is, she's benevolent, and she gives him exactly what he wants. Her long hands wrapping themselves around his hips, finger tips pressing on the bulge in his belly, massaging him and drawing soft ah ah ah's from his mouth. She likes it when he makes noise, he can tell by the burst of approval tingling down his spine, like she's singing something beautiful to him as she destroys the very hole she just prepared.

When those same fingers trail down to his balls, the throbbing in their tips turning to frantic thrumming, vibrating his sack in her hand, he knows he's done for. The machine around his cock starts sucking in earnest, switched back on by some command unheard by Dieter. The tight grip it had around his base is gone, and all he can feel is relentless sucking, the buzzing along his balls, and the writhing tentacle cock deep in his guts, fucking the life out of him.

He feels higher than he's ever been, and before he knows it he's coming, his cock throbbing and pulsing in the tube that contains him, spilling out seemingly endlessly as the thing inside him writhes, pressing against his prostate and milking him for more and more and more.

He doesn't stop coming. It's still leaking out of him, his balls spent and drawn, but his cock red and throbbing and sore but still so drippy from the relentless onslaught in his asshole.

Around him everything whirrs to life. Lights flickering on control panels, sparkling across his vision. There's movement too, above and to the sides of him, but he can't move, doesn't even much care what's going on as he still twitches and comes and comes with her tentacock buried in him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck -"

There's pulsing. The gentle throb of her fingers was one thing, but the thing inside him is now pulsing so deep it stretches him wide as each pulse ripples from the base of her through to the tip, where he can feel it burst and fill him.

And with one final wave, the biggest yet, the thing inside him throbs and bursts once more before she releases a pained gasp. The fingers around his hips don't release, the throbbing in the tips of them so quick the vibrations are numbing his skin.

Dieter can hear it - actually hear it - her voice uttering some gibberish he doesn't understand, and the thrumming pulse of her fingers eases off, even if the depth of her cock does not.

...Processing...complete...

His own breaths are the only ones he can hear among the slow winding down of the machine around him. There's other sounds too, as his vision hazes and blurs. Snicks of tubes disconnecting, the hydraulic hiss of moving machinery, the soft steps of the alien behind him as she pulls away, and out of him, with one final gasp from both of them as the impossible length of the appendage she had buried in him finally comes free.

The machine unlatches from his cock without another sound, before collapsing into some hidden compartment in the floor. The panel lights switch themselves off, and his restraints fall slack. He can finally move again, twist to see her, even though all of him aches too much to ever want to move again.

But he does. Anything to see her one last time, because he knows in his bones that this is his last chance. He's never known it himself, but he's certain she looks how love feels. Even now as she reduces back down to something a little smaller, but nonetheless imposing, he can tell that that's what she is. And maybe it's her function, the draw of her electrifying skin. Maybe she looks this way to make processing easier. Still, looking at her, he already knows he'd do it again, if only to lay his eyes on the thing that looks so much like a love he's never known.

With a final look into those beautiful, endless eyes, he lets exhaustion take him, the last remnants of her voice flitting through his veins just as he succumbs to darkness.

...Thank you...

He dreams of a light so bright he's certain he can hear it, the harsh metallic glare of it buzzing through his ears, making them ring and his head spin.

But the light gives way to darkness as he wakes, and he sees the very same stars that took him, just as distant as they've ever been, and looking down to the city below from the hills, he sees stars there too, as close as they always are, and the ache taking deep and low in his belly is forgotten, if only until dawn breaks across the horizon.

#dieter bravo #👽#dieter bravo x 👽#dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #coveted fics

156 notes · View notes

sl-vega · 5 months ago

Note

Hi there! Recently stumbled upon your Hiori piece (I Don’t Know Much, But I Know I Want You) and Oh. My. Gosh. It’s amazing!! The story was so cute and I also love the little Karasu interactions you threw in; it matches their characters so well and it’s so well written! If you ever feel motivated or inspired to do so, I’d love to see where you’d take the piece in a part 2! No pressure of course, I just think that seeing how they’d interact in your writing would be really awesome. Currently on my way to binge read every other work of yours; I love your writing style o7

Thanks for reading my ask and have a lovely day!! :)

˚୨୧⋆｡ MALL MEET CUTES

part one // part two

pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader

genre: fluff, oneshot, classmates to lovers, friends to lovers (?), pre-bluelock au/canon compliant

synopsis: hiori is still pretty damn smitten when it comes to you, so like the lovesick fool he his, he decides to drag karasu to the mall with him to help him find a gift to impress you, of course, in a strange turn of events it turns out you're at the mall too, so whatever shall our poor loverboy do when he sees you? (or in which hiori "soccer genius" yo, is dumb enough to ask karasu of all people for girl advice, and karasu like the wonderful friend he is, tags along for the drama)

CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, i actually did research on a mall in kyoto so look at me go, might make a part three if i really feel like it

author's note: AKJFJFHAFHKJ TYYY ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET, i'm so glad you liked the first part and all of hiori + karasu's interactions, it really means a lot to me that you thought i did them justice <3

"Would getting her makeup be a good idea?"

Hiori asked his senior as he stood outside of COLOUR STUDIO, it was a cosmetics store that he heard the girls in his class talk about occasionally , you among them.

"Or would that be too intimate? Do ya' think she'd think I'm trying too hard? Maybe we should've just stuck to stationery...."

Hiori bombarded Karasu with questions as he sighed and stared up at the daunting illuminated white sign of the shop.

His friend groaned and grabbed the sleeve of Hiori's light blue sweat shirt, dragging him into the store where a few employees and clerks gave them slightly concerned looks.

"No, we're here now so we may as well get something."

Karasu chastised his younger teammate as he escorted him into the lip product aisle, in which Hiori found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar brands with colourful packaging.

"Ya' sure know yer' way around Karasu, have ya' been here before?"

"I've been to their branch over in Osaka, my sister makes me get 'er shit whenever she runs out..."

Karasu plucked a small box from the middle of the shelf, making a point to read the label and the brand to make sure it was the one he needed.

"So what are you gonna get yer' special girl?"

He asked teasingly, as his slender fingers clutched around the small container he was holding.

"I dunno actually...I was hoping you might help me?"

Hiori replied, chuckling nervously. He already knew that Karasu had an older sister, so must have some knowledge on these kinds of things.

His teammate seemed to deadpan at his friend's request, feigning a hurt expression at his friend's question.

"So I'm just a personal shopping assistant to ya'? I'm hurt Hiori."

Karasu gave him a playful pout before breaking into a mild fit of laughter after Hiori swatted his shoulder. The older boy promptly turned to one of the shelves and tossed Hiori a small pink tube of lip gloss.

"Get 'er this one, the quality is pretty good and it has a reasonable price."

Karasu said nonchalantly as his back was still turned, still browsing through some of the shelves. Hiori looked down at the product tube and read out the label to himself.

"Canmake Candy Wrap Lip..."

He muttered as he rotated the slender cylinder in his hand, reading the adhesive tag on it, he realized that Karasu was right, the price was within his budget, and the packaging was rather cute, not to mention how the tube itself contained a good amount of product.

He was about to thank his friend before realizing that Karasu was back at the front counter of the store, probably asking one of the employees for help with finding something.

Observing his surroundings, Hiori thought that browsing the shop a little bit more couldn't hurt, he still had plenty of funds to spare, more than enough to buy you something else.

Hiori continued to browse the current aisle he was in, allowing his fingers to brush against the array of cosmetics, all neatly sorted and arranged by brand, type, and flavour.

As he continued to run his hand along the rows upon rows of products, he stumbled across another area of products that caught his eye.

"Rohto Mentholatum Lip Balm..."

He read the mini card board sign that was clipped to the shelf as he observed the packaging. The one's that were currently stocked were said to be peach flavoured, the price seemed fairly reasonable as well.

Now, that he thought about it, having a lip balm on hand would be pretty practical, Hiori hated the feeling of his chapped lips. Plus, he deserved some kind of reward.

Hiori reached for one of the tubes, and right before he was about to take the lip balm from the shelf, his fingers brushed against a stranger's hand who was reaching for the exact some one.

On instinct, Hiori pulled away, muttering a quick apology. He turned to said stranger to say tell them that they could take it before realizing that said stranger wasn't a stranger at all.

"Oh! Hiori?"

Oh God, it was you

"H-hey!"

He managed to squeak out as you gave him a soft smile, he was surprised he hadn't made a complete fool of himself yet. Without realizing it, he had promptly shoved the tube of lip gloss he was going to buy for you into his back pocket.

"Hi! I didn't realize you were the shopping type Hiori."

You greeted him once more as you observed the hand that quickly pocketed the lip tube, you didn't press any further however.

"Oh, I'm not actually, I'm just getting a gift for someone special..."

Hiori chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He chastised himself for his wording, of course he had to say it like that, now if he gave you the gift you'd know for sure that he liked you.

But then again, that would spare him the humiliation of actually having to say it directly to your face, not that he ever wanted to confess in the first place...

"Someone...special? I didn't know you had a girlfriend Hiori..."

You trailed off, you sounded disappointed almost.

Hiori's face flushed at your words, he didn't mean to give you that idea. He could slowly feel heat creep up his neck as you continued to stare at him.

"Guess I shouldn't be that surprised..."

This time you were avoiding eye contact, you laughed somewhat bitterly. Were you jealous? Part of Hiori wanted to delude himself into thinking that, but another part of him wanted to die right there and then to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself.

"N-No I don't have a girlfriend actually!"

He assured you as his face turned an even brighter shade of red.

Where was Karasu when ya' needed him?

Suddenly, Hiori felt a light tap against his head. It was Karasu! His knight in shining armor, to save him from the train wreck of a conversation. His teammate was holding a small basket full of a few products, some mascara, eye liner, and a few skin cream tubs among them.

"I'm gonna go check out now, are ya' done yet?"

His friend asked as he rested his hand on Hiori's shoulder, Karasu looked up at you, realizing that there was company present.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You glanced between the two boys, you had recalled Karasu from Hiori's youth team, but you didn't know much about the older boy, but you had spotted him hanging around Hiori pretty frequently, so you assumed that they were fairly close.

"Oh, I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"

You questioned as your eyes flickered between the two of them, your head was tilted slightly in curiosity. You noticed Karasu's grip on Hiori's shoulder tighten ever so slightly at the sound of your question.

Hiori shook his head frantically, Karasu was probably giving you that same unsettling stare he always used whenever he was sizing someone up on you.

"No! Not at all! But I should get going right about now..."

He assured you that nothing was wrong, but he was already flustered enough, and there was no way Karasu would let him hear the end of whatever this incident should be labelled as.

"Well I'll see you school I guess!"

You flashed him another bright smile before turning to Karasu, and you gave the older boy a curt and quick bow.

"I'm (Y/N), Hiori's classmate, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Karasu was caught off guard by your sudden politeness, but he returned the favour.

"Karasu."

He stated quickly before taking Hiori's hand in his own, you seemed to take note of this.

You were about to walk away, so you waved to them before saying;

"Have fun on your date!"

Wait what?!

If Hiori's face was red before, it was basically crimson by now. The girl he liked not only thought he was taken, but now she thought he was into guys?!

"W-we're not!-He's not-I'm not-"

Karasu simply wheezed at the current predicament, clearly amused by your assumption of Hiori and him's relationship and by his younger friend's sudden flustered expression.

"I wish! Don't worry yer' pretty little head off though, he's still avaliable∼. He's quite taken with you at that too."

Karasu teased as he winked at Hiori, clearly taking sadistic pleasure in his friend's suffering.

"Karasu!"

Hiori whisper shouted as his friend dragged him out the store, still laughing as the cyan-haired boy continued his flustered protests which bore no fruit.

Well at least you knew how he felt now...

BONUS!

"This is why I told ya' to quit flirting with me like that! People are getting the wrong idea about us..."

"Aww but I can't have random girls stealing you away from me∼"

"Shut up ya' stupid crow!"

"Make me prodigy∼"

141 notes · View notes