#and she called me and asked me what he would like the most and i’m happy knowing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bumblebecc · 2 days ago

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the one where trinity santos knows that frank is using again, except he isn’t

Trinity knows something is up with Frank Langdon. She just does.

It starts when she walks in on a Monday with a truly horrific looking board. A massive carpile up handled by the nightshift has set them all back and tied up Ortho for the day. Good luck, all broken bones and potential amputations walking into the waiting room. It’s the first time she’s ever seen Dana look frazzled (apart from PittFest, but she tries not to think about that day too much. She puts it all in the Do Not Touch box that lives in the back of her brain). Robby is extra prickly because Gloria keeps popping up and jumpscaring everyone. Perlah’s daughter is turning ten next week and she’s making it a bigger deal than it needs to be (in Trinity’s opinion), so the normally restrained camp of Perlah and Princess is also stressed.

And Frank comes in basically skipping past the waiting room and freaking everyone out.

“Why all the glum faces?” Trinity hears him ask Collins.

“Have you even looked at the board today? It’s like Hell opened up overnight.”

“Never took you for a theater kid.” Trinity spares a look and sees Langdon languidly leaning on the nurse’s station. “So much drama. Nah, we’ll get this straightened up. Hey, look, you take South 15, he’s been here awhile. I’ll handle the rash and fever in North 5. We’ll get these beds opened up in no time.”

“Could’ve sworn you would’ve gone for the potential hernia.”

“Hernia, shmernia. McKay can have that one. C’mon, new attending. We have a waiting room to empty.”

Trinity sits up.

“You’re… optimistic today,” says Collins slowly.

“Ah, you know what they say.” Langdon smirks, snagging a pair of gloves as he leaves. “A cynic has to be an optimist at least some of the time.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Heather calls after him.

And Trinity would just chock that little interaction up to Langdon just being his normal brand of obnoxious if she hadn’t overheard Princess and Perlah in the breakroom.

“He smiled at me and told me to have a good day,” says Princess, audibly bewildered. “Has he ever done that to you?”

“No, but he asked me to tell Jamillah Roslyn happy birthday for her party,” says Perlah, bewildered. “I didn’t even know he knew her name.”

“Something’s up with him,” says Princess suspiciously and Trinity agrees. Parks it in her mind as she and the others steadfastly work through the onslaught of patients. Post-hysterectomy infection (and potential malpractice suit, the fucker didn’t prescribe the poor woman any antibiotics). A simple MI sent up to surgery in record time. A pulmonary contusion in an eight year old from a gnarly bumper car collision.

And then—

“Are you whistling?” Garcia asks, almost in disbelief.

“What, the patient is anesthetized,” says Langdon casually as he makes room for the ultrasound tech. “Don’t be knocking my bedside manner when the bedside isn’t awake.”

“Look,” says Garcia. “The Cure is low, even for you. At least do Bowie or Santana.”

“You would hate The Cure,” says Langdon and then whistles the first few lines of Smooth freakishly well.

“That’s more like it,” says Garcia.

“You treat me like a radio,” sighs Langdon. “Is that all I am to you?”

“Yes, especially because I am not needed here,” says Garcia. “Look at the head CT. Brain tumor. More than most likely caused the seizure. Far above my paygrade. He needs oncology and a specialized treatment plan, not emergency surgery.”

“Copy,” says Frank. “I’ll call up Blestner and get a consult.”

Garcia’s eyebrow slowly rises. “You’ll just ‘call up’ Blestner?”

“For a potentially glioneuronal mass that size?” Frank clicks his tongue. “Hell yeah I’m calling Blestner.”

“Blestner hates your guts,” interrupts Trinity. She’s too bewildered to stay quiet. “He called you a junkie and told you to put him on the phone with a real doctor last time.”

“And I went through the official channels and put in an HR complaint and everything’s been peachy since,” says Langdon, unbothered. “He loves me now.”

“Huh.” Garcia looks him over slowly. “You’re in a good mood today.”

“Indubitably.” And Langdon strides out of the room, already on his pager.

“Keep an eye on him.”

Trinity looks up, surprised.

Yolanda is smiling, but there’s a tension around her mouth that Trinity recognizes from that time when she forgot to wash the pan after making eggs. The this thing is out of my control smile. “He is in a really good mood,” she says. “Which might be nothing. But it also might be something. I haven’t heard him whistle since he passed the Step 3. And that was 2021, so.”

“You don’t think—?”

“No, babe, I don’t think. I just worry.” Yolanda glances behind her, makes sure no nosy RN is looking, and presses a quick kiss to Trinity’s cheek. That was also something Trinity had to get used to. Yo’s touchyness. It’s a plus, she knows now, but there was a time she would’ve dodged away, wary. Now, she leans in.

“My worrier,” says Trinity, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah.” Yolanda Garcia backs out of the room, smiling. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And Trinity keeps a half-eye on Langdon, yeah. And maybe he’s a little too nice to Lupe, calling her a “badass” and then dapping up some random EMT after a successful code. But she’s not really concerned because she’s sure he’ll be back to his usual “I’m surrounded by idiots” self tomorrow.

Except he isn’t.

“He brought donuts,” says Mateo in the breakroom, looking like he’s seen a ghost. “And not Dunkin Donuts. Leonarda’s. The fancy shit. For Nurse Appreciation Week.”

“That’s not so weird!” Kim is sheepishly playing with her hair. “Dr. King gave me a personalized card.”

“Please call her Mel, Kim, no one calls her Dr. King and it’s lowkey a little weird that you do.” Mateo opens up one of the boxes (with gilded swirly writing on top, Trinity knows it’s bougie) and a heavenly smell envelopes them.

Donahue shakes his head. “This… this is some spooky shit.”

“Do you think this is like some NA thing?” Jesse asks. “Like, being nice to people?”

Trinity doesn’t speak, because being allowed in the nurse’s lounge is a privilege that gets easily revoked, but she thinks no fucking way to herself.

But then she kinda forgets about it because she’s pulled for Chairs. Bleh.

Flu case. Ten year old with influenza. Fifty year old with the flu. Eighteen year old with a headache and fever—influenza A. Seventy year old with—you guessed it—the flu.

“Fuck, I hate triage,” she tells the skittish med student who started last week. The name will come to her. Jessica. Jennifer. Something with a J? She’s red-haired, pretty in an effortless kind of way, and petrified of everything that moves and makes Trinity miss Whitaker, who matched into emergency medicine at Allegheny. “Don’t you want some action?”

“Huh?!” Jessica Jennifer Jayla blushes so hard, Trinity looks at her with concern. “No!! No I don’t!”

“Easy, easy,” says Trinity, undeterred. “So you like the boring ones?”

“Oh! You meant—“ the blush recedes and Jennifer Jessica Jaime clears her throat. “The cases. Yeah, uh, they’re alright. I don’t really like traumas that much.”

Trinity eyes her, slightly concerned. “Calm down, Mother Mary. I wasn’t asking you about your sex life.”

Jaime Joanna Jessica frowns. “My name is Julie.”

“Julieee,” says Trinity. “Cool. Just a joke.” And then she follows Julie’s eyesight, which is locked across the room to—Langdon, chatting with an EMT. “No way. He’s gotta be old enough to be your dad.”

“No!!” Julie is fumbling with her gloves. “He’s 33! And I’m 25!”

“You asked him his age?” Trinity says, absolutely delighted.

“He’s divorced!” says Julie. “It’s not a crime!”

“But it is definitely frowned upon. A resident and a med student, are you crazy?”

“You’re an R-2 with a new attending!” says Julie, suddenly fierce.

“Different departments, plus no one gives a shit.” Trinity could laugh. She could care less how Mother Mary knows about her and Garcia—probably a mouthy respiratory therapist or something. “Good luck with that HR violation, Julie. You should get some better taste.”

“What? He’s so nice. And hot. The day me and Yamaguchi started, he told us we’re on our way to being great doctors.” Yep, those are definitely stars in the med student’s eyes.

Langdon. Being overly nice to med students. An alarm goes off in Trinity’s brain. And she automatically says, “Yeah, he lies a lot,” and beelines straight to Robby, who is intensely charting and pretending not to notice a frequent flyer asking for a blanket (he has about five already). “Okay, is something up with Langdon?”

Robby slides his glasses down at her with intense scrutiny. “Let’s rephrase the question to something more specific, Dr. Santos.”

“He’s whistling in the ER,” says Trinity. “He’s happily doing all the shitty boring cases. He told Perlah to tell her kid happy birthday. He bought the nurses donuts for Nurse Appreciation Week. He’s being nice to med students. Med students. That’s weird.”

Robby sighs, slips off his glasses. “Maybe he’s just having a good day.”

“Try a good week.” And Trinity lowers her voice. “Look. Is it possible he’s relapsed?”

Her chief attending leans back in the chair. Clicks around on the computer for a minute. “Dr. Langdon’s drug screening results are private healthcare information that I cannot release to you, Dr. Santos. However, I can guarantee that as of this morning, Langdon is enthusiastically cleared to work in the ED.” He shoots her a look. “So whatever’s bothering you has nothing to do with his recovery. Okay? Conversation done.”

And Trinity stands there, frowning, because things aren’t clicking.

And they don’t until she bumps into Mel the next day.

“Heyyy, MelMel,” Trinity says, fresh off a Cliff bar break. “What the heck are you doing here? Isn’t today your day off?”

Mel beams, cute as ever with her hair up in two twin buns. It must be boiling outside, because she’s in little white shorts and her cheeks are pink from the sun. “Yeah, it is! But Becca and I stayed up late last night baking.” And Trinity does notice the brownie tray. “We might have gone a little overboard.”

“Ah. Baking.”

“Yes, Becca’s very into sourdough lately,” says Mel seriously. Trinity can’t help but have a soft spot for her. A tiny soft spot. “She’s been watching these TikTok videos. My kitchen is now her experiment station.”

“Ah. Your sister. Nice.” Trinity’s about to politely extricate herself from the conversation in favor of a patient when Langdon suddenly appears. And by suddenly, Trinity means he was on the other side of the room, and then he basically teleported to Mel’s side.

“Mel, what are you doing here?” He puts his hand on her shoulder like she’ll disappear otherwise. “Are you—oh! Nice shirt.”

It’s a normal shirt, light pink with a print of Hello Kitty waving. Mel smiles brightly. “Hi!! Yeah it’s—“

“Becca’s favorite,” Langdon finishes and they both laugh, even though it isn’t really funny, like it’s an inside joke. And then Langdon glances down at the tray and says, “Ah, the brownies, shit, sorry, I forgot you were going to bring those in.”

“Well, I felt bad, you got the nurses those fancy donuts and I only gave out cards.” Mel is—pouting? Not really, not in the exaggerated way Yolanda does to make Trinity give her attention, but actually genuinely. Mel’s mouth is a little downturned, her eyebrows are scrunched with mild displeasure.

“Stop, they’d take a card from you over anything from me any day,” scoffs Frank. “Donnie acted like I was trying to poison him. And I’m half fucking convinced Ramón thinks you’re an actual angel from heaven.”

“No, he doesn’t, we have a very good professional rapport,” says Mel.

“Bullshit, he likes you.” And then Frank… softens? Like all the muscles in his neck and shoulders relax and he leans down, looking at her with his weirdly intense eyes and Trinity feels like she walked in on something. And the hand, still on Mel’s shoulder, is sliding down, his long fingers curling softly around her wrist. “Maybe I can’t blame him, though.”

“Oh my god,” says Trinity and they both jump, like they forgot she was even there. “You’re getting laid. That’s why you’ve been so fucking weird all week. You’re boinking Mel.”

“Santos.”

“That’s not a very appropriate thing to say in the workplace,” says Mel, frowning. But she doesn’t deny it. Because they TOTALLY ARE.

“It all makes sense,” says Trinity in disbelief.

Like she knew they were close. Langdon gets her a hot tea from a cafe every morning (Robby always asks where his is and Langdon snarks, “The break room, hands off.”) And the way they follow each other around and bump into each other without comment. That one time Langdon handed her a hair tie when hers snapped during a procedure and her too-bright smile.

“The stupid whistling. The weirdly good mood. You bought donuts. Oh my god. Mel, you and him? For real?”

Langdon’s face is not a nice face. “Can you go one day with causing a potential HR crisis?”

“I know way hotter dudes I can hook you up with, Mel,” Trinity tells her, enjoying this way more than she should. “Like I’m not a man enjoyer, but there’s this guy from med school who all my hetero friends say is a god at eating puss—“

“Okay, enough of that,” says Langdon firmly, and his hand is on the small of Mel’s back, herding her away, and he’s scowling. But Trinity follows, she’s so delighted. Mel and Mr. Asshole? Together? That’s so gold, it’s like platinum level gossip. Princess and Perlah are going to die. “Don’t you have a patient to neglect or something?”

“Possessive much, Langdon?” Trinity waggles her eyebrows. “Or are you that shitty in bed that you’re feeling a little threatened?”

“Frank is very good at cunnilingus, Trinity,” says Mel over her shoulder and ugh, she calls him Frank? And Trinity regrets all the teasing, because she did not need to know that. Or picture that. “I’m very well satisfied, thank you.”

And Langdon is grinning, an evil smug horny grin that immediately takes the wind out of Trinity’s sails.

“I am so texting Whitaker about this.”

“Tell Dennis I said hi!” calls Mel as Langdon ushers her into the break room. Where they’ll probably make out or say lovey dovey words to each other. (Probably not. Mel is a classy lady after all).

“This hospital,” Trinity says and then rushes off to hunt down Garcia.

#kingdon #frank langdon #mel king #melfrank #trinity santos #my fic #melangdon #langdonmel #the pitt #fanfiction #fanfic

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lady-luckk · 22 hours ago

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how about a cowboy or a farmer with a bimbo city girl reader??

itd b so funny if she was just like “do brown cows make chocolate milk??”

or maybe she almost kills the guy by accident trying to rake some hay

i love the trope “she’s an idiot but she’s my idiot”

so like, what’s the wifi password?

# pairings: yandere farmer cowboy x bimbo / himbo reader

# synopsis: while making your way to a fun hangout with your friends your car suddenly breaks down. a kind farmer allows you to stay with him until someone can pick you up. but why are the roads weirdly empty?

# warnings: this will contain dark themes such as obsession, kidnapping, and murder. if you are uncomfortable, please block me. viewer discretion is advised. minors DNI.

# notes: reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated!

you’re not entirely sure what led to this. one second you were on your way to hangout with your girlfriends, the next, your pink convertible broke down next to the most farm-ass farm you’ve ever seen. and now? you're standing in front of a barn that smells like hay and something suspiciously meaty, trying to get a signal with your rhinestone-covered phone held toward the sky.

"phone ain't gonna save you out here, princess."

you nearly jump out of your glittery crop top. standing behind you is a tall, broad, sun-scorched wall of man with stubble, a permanent scowl, and arms like they personally fought god for dominance. he's wearing a stained flannel shirt, worn jeans, and a scuffed cowboy hat pulled low like he’s hiding from the law—or just the concept of smiling.

you blink up at him. "omg, hi! are you like, the farmer or cowboy guy?"

he snorts. "i’m the farmer. ain’t another soul within miles, and i sure as hell didn’t call for no... barbie doll on a breakdown."

you gasp, offended. "excuse you, this is Y2K chic. And my name isn’t barbie—it’s..."

"...of course it is."

“you’re not from around here, are you?"

"nnooope. GPS brought me out here for, like, reasons. and then my engine started making this very dramatic sound. sooo now i'm, like, a damsel."

he crosses his arms, face unreadable, then sighs. "you standin’ out here in the heat for long?"

"i mean, i guess? i was gonna call someone, but I’ve only got like, one bar and a lot of hope."

another pause. then he turns and mutters, "c’mon."

"huh?"

"you want heatstroke or you want a glass of water?"

you blink. "omg, you’re nice."

"i ain’t nice," he snaps, opening the screen door wider. "i’m just not leavin’ some glittered-up stranger to roast in a ditch."

inside, it’s a mix of rustic charm and obvious bachelor chaos. he pours you a glass of water without asking, sets it down in front of you like he’s done this a hundred times, and leans against the counter like he’s regretting all of it.

although internally he’s a whole different story. he can’t believe his luck meeting someone as cute as you in this area. he swore he felt his heart leap out of his chest the minute he saw you.

"name’s eli," he says at last. "i’ll take a look at your car. if it’s fixable, i’ll fix it. if not… guess you’ll be stuck here a bit."

you bat your lashes. "you wouldn’t mind that, would you?"

he shifts, jaw flexing. then: “don’t get ahead of yourself, sweetheart.”

but he won’t meet your eyes. and he doesn’t notice he poured you a second glass of water before you even finished the first.

you follow eli outside, trying not to trip on your own wedges as you strut across the gravel like it’s a runway and not, in fact, a minefield of dirt and despair.

he walks a few steps ahead, toolbox in one hand, broad shoulders shifting beneath that flannel like they’ve never known a day of weakness. he doesn’t say much, but you catch him glancing back once—just once—to make sure you’re not lost or dead or doing something ridiculous.

you're doing all three, probably.

when he reaches your car, he pops the hood with one rough tug and peers inside like he’s about to deliver bad news to a family of four.

after a beat, he grunts. “when’s the last time you had an oil change?”

you blink. "what’s that?"

slowly, so slowly, he turns his head and looks at you.

his face is completely blank. emotionless. a man on the brink. like he’s just been told that gravity is optional now. or that the cows have unionized.

you smile up at him, unbothered, chewing your bubblegum. “is that, like, something you get at a drive-thru? because i only do drive-thrus if they have fries.”

he says nothing.

just stares.

a long, long pause.

then: “you shouldn’t legally be allowed to own a vehicle.”

"that’s what my driving instructor said!" you chirp.

eli shuts the hood and mutters something to the lord, probably begging for patience, strength, or a strategic lightning strike.

“you’re lucky i don’t believe in abandoning helpless creatures,” he mutters, already walking toward his truck. “i’m gonna get the part you need. stay put. don’t touch anything. don’t lick anything. don’t—just... don’t.”

you wave sweetly. “k love you, byeee!”

he stops mid-step. shoulders stiffen.

and without turning around, he mutters under his breath, "you’re gonna be the death of me."

later that day, eli returns with what looks like half a junkyard and a grim set to his jaw. he spent hours elbow-deep in your car, occasionally muttering things like “what the hell is this glitter doing in the engine?” and “is this a sticker of a unicorn on the oil cap?”

finally, he slams the hood shut, wipes his hands on a rag, and delivers the verdict with the gravity of a man announcing a funeral.

“pinky, she’s dead.”

you gasp dramatically. “pinky? you named her??”

he squints at you. “she named herself the minute i saw the pink steering wheel cover. and now she’s toast. fried the transmission, shredded the belt, and i’m pretty sure the air freshener doing psychic damage.”

“oh noooo,” you moan. “so what do i dooo?”

he sighs. long and loud, like you physically pained him. “you’ll stay here until i can find someone to tow it and get you back to civilization.”

"yay!" you beam.

“that wasn’t meant to be exciting.”

as the days go by, eli gains a large affection for you. he believes that since you’re “living” with him now, that practically means that the two of you are married.

when you two finally travel into town. he doesn’t like people looking at you. not the guy at the gas station who dared compliment your lip gloss, not the mailman who called you “darlin’” with too much sugar in his voice, and definitely not the tourist who asked if you were “lost” with that fake concern dripping off his words.

eli’s a walking warning sign the second you step into town with him. the locals know him—eli carter, the mountain of a man with a scowl carved into his face and hands that could bend steel. most folks keep their distance, half-respecting, half-fearing him.

they say he’s good with his work, bad with people, and meaner than a rattlesnake if you push the wrong buttons. so when he rolls into town with you, all glitter and sunshine and questions like “do horses get cold?”—yeah, people notice. the butcher’s wife whispers that he’s gone soft. the old mechanic raises a brow like he’s seeing a ghost. when someone chuckles a little too long at your rhinestone boots, eli’s jaw ticks. when a guy at the feed store offers to help you lift a bag of seed, eli’s already there, grabbing it with one hand like it weighs nothing. “they’re good,” he says flatly, not even looking at the guy.

even when you try to chat with the locals, eli’s always close—never rude, but not exactly inviting either. he doesn’t trust easily, especially not when it comes to you. and if someone even looks at you sideways, he’s suddenly all sharp glances and low muttering, hand at your lower back like a silent claim: they’re mine to worry about.

eli’s jaw gets tight, voice real low when he steps between you and anyone who so much as thinks about flirting. once, a farmhand from a neighboring ranch tried to strike up a conversation with you at the feed store—eli didn’t say a word, just calmly picked up a full grain barrel, one-handed, and moved it like it weighed nothing. the guy left before eli even had to speak. you giggled, called him “jealous,” and he growled something about “men like that not knowin’ how to treat you right.”

he won’t say this out loud , but every time someone shows a little too much interest in you, he finds a new chore to do right beside you. fencing, fixing the barn door, chopping firewood shirtless in the sun like that’s normal behavior. once, you saw him bend a crowbar back into shape like it was a breadstick and he acted like it was no big deal. he claims he’s just “lookin’ out for you,” but you’ve noticed how fast his mood shifts when someone else tries to.

eli always has an eye on you. he always seems to know exactly where you are. no matter what he’s doing, his eyes find you like it’s instinct. you’ll be picking flowers by the fence or sneaking another cookie from the jar, and somehow, he’s already looking. not hovering, not smothering—just always aware. like keeping you safe is a reflex, not a choice. it’s subtle, but constant. protective, almost possessive. like some part of him’s decided you’re his to watch over, even when you don’t realize you need it.

he can’t keep his eyes off you. to him, you’re just his precious darling.

eli gives you a curfew like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “sun’s down, you’re inside,” he says one evening, arms crossed and eyes steady like he’s expecting a fight. you blink at him. “wait, like... a bedtime?” he grunts. “ain’t about sleep. it’s about not wanderin’ into a coyote den in your platform heels.” you try to argue, but he doesn’t budge—just mutters something about you being a “walking hazard” and how “ain’t nothing good happens after dark out here.” and true to form, every evening as the sun dips low, he’s there on the porch, arms folded, waiting.

if you’re even five minutes late, he’s already out with a flashlight like a grumpy dad looking for a runaway puppy. he won’t admit it, but the curfew isn’t just about safety. it’s about knowing exactly where you are. keeping you close. keeping you his.

every night, without fail, you end up in the kitchen with eli—him cradling a mug of coffee, you wrapped in one of his old flannels, sitting on the counter like you belong there. the light is soft, the air warm, and he’s always gentle with you at this hour, like the quiet makes him softer. he’ll brush your hair back without thinking, pass you the sweeter drink without asking, and murmur low little comments that sound more like affection than teasing.

sometimes he rests his hand on your knee when he walks past, like anchoring himself to the moment. he doesn’t smile much, but with you like this—half-asleep, blinking at him under kitchen lights—there’s a warmth in his eyes that says more than he ever will.

there’s always a comfortable silence between you, broken by the occasional sarcastic quip or dry comment from him when you ask if cows dream or if the moon looks closer out here. sometimes he’ll pass you a spoon to taste something he’s cooking, or nudge your knee with his hip to get you to move over so he can reach a cabinet. it’s quiet, almost domestic. like this little nighttime routine just… happened. and neither of you questioned it.

and just like that it’s been a month. you no longer notice how the roads seem to “get worse” whenever you mention leaving, or how eli’s smile always grows just a little too warm when you say, “maybe i’ll try calling a tow service again.”

you’ve stopped wondering why your cell service hasn’t come back. you’ve accepted that the mountains are just “that bad,” as eli puts it. eli’s a good guy, there's no way he’d do anything to sabotage you from going back home. like eli totally did not install a signal jammer two days after you arrived or that he's murdered everyone who ever offered to take you home. there's just no way.

now, you’re completely settled in—no wifi, no car, and definitely no cute outfits from home. but honestly? you’re so content. the cozy flannel shirts, freshly baked cookies, and endless cups of lemonade have turned life here into a dreamy routine.

but something nags at you.

you’ve been living with eli, enjoying his hospitality, but you don’t want to feel like a useless freeloader. so one afternoon, you decide it’s time to step up and offer to help around the farm. you can’t just keep eating his food and just looking pretty, right?

you walk up to eli, who’s messing around with the tractor, and clear your throat.

“eli, I was thinking… i should help out more around here. you know, so i don’t just sit around all day being a freeloader.”

eli glances up, his face a mix of surprise and a hint of reluctance. he wipes his hands on his pants, a sigh escaping him.

“you sure about that?” he asks, his voice gruff. “you’ve been here for a month and you’re just now deciding to help?”

you nod, determined. “yeah, i wanna pull my weight.”

he doesn’t seem convinced but shrugs. “alright, fine. you can start by feeding the animals. that’s simple enough.”

you beam. “great! i can totally do that!”

you were definitely not cut out for farm life. after eli told you to help with feeding the animals, you felt determined, but that determination quickly turned to chaos.

you squinted at one of the cows and asked, "so, uh... do brown cows make chocolate milk?" eli froze mid-step, gave you the most soul-dead stare, and muttered something about regretting every decision that led him to this moment.

then the chickens got involved. you tried to scatter feed like in the movies, but instead slipped on your own glittery flip-flop and fell right into the middle of their breakfast—cue one chicken hopping onto your back like it was claiming a new roost.

the goats were no better; one of them chewed on your hair extensions while you screamed, "sir, boundaries!" and the pigs? the pigs chased you across the yard when you accidentally dropped a granola bar from your purse. eli didn’t even try to hide his grin as you ran by him yelling, “they smell fear, eli, they smell fear!”

by the time it was over, you were covered in hay, dirt, feathers, and regret, and eli just handed you a wet rag with a grunt, like this was all perfectly normal.

but this wasn’t the first time you’d gotten yourself in a mess. oh, no. this was just the latest installment of “you vs. farm life.” you had managed to almost flood the barn by forgetting to turn off the hose, break a shovel trying to pry open a stubborn gate, and somehow trip over a rock and sprain your ankle—while sitting down. eli had bailed you out every single time. and he didn’t even seem to be all that surprised anymore.

like that one time you got it in your head to “help” eli with a small fix on the tractor. it involved welding, and you’d sworn you could do it. five minutes in, you had almost burned off your eyebrows and started a small fire by the side of the barn. eli was on you in an instant, throwing a bucket of water over the flames, shaking his head like you’d done this a million times before. “i swear to god, you’re gonna burn this place down before we even finish building it,” he grumbled as he handed you a fire extinguisher.

"you really know how to ruin a moment, eli," you pouted.

“moment?” he muttered, sounding exhausted. “you were about to become a human torch.”

there was that time you tried to be helpful in the kitchen by making dinner, only to end up dropping an entire pot of spaghetti on the floor, then attempting to "clean it up" by throwing it into the trash—half of it splattered on the walls and the other half stuck to the ceiling. you’d been standing there, horrified, when eli walked in. “don’t even ask,” you said weakly.

he’d just sighed, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work fixing it. “get out of the kitchen before you burn yourself,” he grumbled, tossing you out of the way with a gentle nudge, as if you were a ragdoll. “and don’t try cooking again until I’m here to supervise.”

you gave him a smile that could’ve melted the coldest of hearts. “you love me.”

he grumbled something unintelligible, but you could see the hint of a smile beneath his gruffness.

and it wasn’t just accidents. oh no. it was your sheer ability to get into trouble. like the time you wandered off into the woods to “explore” and ended up trapped in a thorn bush because you thought you saw a unicorn. yes, you. a unicorn. by the time eli found you, you were stuck, practically covered in thorns, and looking like a glittered-up forest creature. “if I hadn’t come to find you,” he’d said, grinning slightly, “you’d still be out there, trying to make friends with a unicorn.”

you had the decency to look sheepish. “i was trying to be imaginative.”

"yeah, well, next time, try not to get stuck in the thorn bush before you start trying to talk to magical creatures.”

safe to say after that incident eli forced you to wear and carry an airtag with you permanently.

then came the day you decided to help eli with manual labor—big mistake. you tried lifting a hay bale and almost dislocated something. when you grabbed the post hole digger, it practically dragged you across the yard. eli didn’t even let you finish struggling; he took it from your hands with a grunt, muscles flexing like it was nothing, and muttered, “you’ll break before the tools do.” you huffed, but he didn’t budge, already finishing the job in half the time. apparently, your job was now “supervising,” which mostly meant staying out of the way while he manhandled the entire farm.

and then there was the one time you decided to “fix” your own car because you were “bored” and “needed a project.” that involved you somehow locking yourself inside the trunk while trying to find your spare tire. it was a whole dramatic saga that ended with you yelling for help from inside the trunk, much to eli’s amusement. when he finally popped the trunk open, you had the nerve to ask him, “how’d you know i was in here?”

“because you’ve gotten yourself in a mess, like, again,” he replied, his tone dry.

you beamed up at him. “i’m just that special.”

“special? yeah, that’s what we’ll call it.” he smirked before pulling you out of the trunk and checking over your car like he wasn’t wondering why he didn’t just lock you in there himself.

but despite all the chaos you caused, despite the non-stop antics and trouble that seemed to follow you, there was something comforting about it all. eli might grumble, he might make fun of your messes, but he never left you to fend for yourself. he had this way of always being there—whether it was pulling you out of a thorn bush, rescuing you from your own cooking disaster, or simply watching over you while you made another mess in the barn. eli didn’t get frustrated. he just dealt with it—and, in his own way, he took care of you.

you were a disaster, sure, but you were his disaster. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough for both of you.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yancore #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere farmer

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catherinnn · 22 hours ago

Text

Why pick one?

Steddie x fem!reader

summary: What happens when Eddie and Steve check out the same girl at a party? But then again... why would she pick just one?

warnings: SMUT (+18), p i v, threesome, fingering, hand-job, oral (f & m recieving), spanking, afab reader who is mentioned to be shorter than the boys.

words: 4.9k

masterlist

You were leaning against a wall outside in the garden of the house party. Accompanying your friends as they smoked. You weren’t complaining though, the summers in Hawkings were a challenge, but these cold breezes in the night made it all worth it.

You’d be having a nice night out with your friends if it wasn’t for the two boys leaning a few feet away staring at every movement you made.

They looked like opposites, and yet side by side they looked like trouble waiting to happen.

Eddie had noticed you first, eyes wandering on the characters in the garden until his eyes landed on you. He elbowed Steve, nodded in the direction of your friend group. In his mind was the idea that they’d both pick a different girl.

Little did they know they were both staring at you. You smirked, and slowly made your way over.

“Look at you two. Are you the entertainment tonight or just decoration?” You said, pulling out the honey-laced voice.

Steve laughs, amused. “Depends. Are you hiring?”

“Or auditioning?” Eddie jokes.

An hour passed in jokes and giggles. As if they were in a competition on who could make you laugh the most.

“Are you always this cocky?” you ask Steve with a smirk.

“Only when I’m around pretty girls” he tried a charming smile.

“Careful, Steve, you don’t wanna be too obvious” Eddie rolls his eyes, biting a laugh.

As the outdoor couch is finally free again, you move over there.

“For the lady, who’s as tall as a mouse” Eddie offers the couch cushion like he was presenting a throne, grinning.

“Oh, hilarious, no one’s ever made that joke before” you roll your eyes as you plop down.

“Are we not being original enough for you?” Steve snorted, flopping down beside you.

“Are these jesters too boring for you, princess?” Eddie jokes.

“Shut up” you roll your eyes, smirking.

“She’s such a princess. That’s your name now” Steve agrees after seeing it annoyed you.

“You just got knighted” Eddie comments

A group of younger girls across the garden giggled, eyes glued to Steve. You lean in and whispered just loud enough.

"Your fan club is assembling"

"Oh my God, look at his hair!" Eddie says mockingly.

"Just ignore them" Steve groans.

"Oh, poor you! So handsome is a curse!" you joke.

"Tragic. Someone get this man a cap and a pair of sunglasses!" Eddie joins in.

The giggling girls dare each other to go talk to Steve, shoving each other and giggling some more.

"They're planning their attack" you comment.

"I swear to god, if one of them calls me again, I'll jump in the pool" he complains.

"Relax, if they swarm, I'll protect you" you say.

"With what? Your fierce energy?" Eddie chuckles.

"She'll bite ankles" Steve laughs.

The younger girls keep getting closer, trying to act subtle.

"Okay, no, this is getting weird. They're like sixteen! One of them called me sir earlier!" Steve says.

"Aww, does sir Steve need a bodyguard?" you laugh.

"He needs help" he looks at you, pleading.

And you don't hesitate, you move onto his lap like it wasn't a big deal. One arm around his shoulders, the other hand playing with his hair.

The effect was immediate. The girls paused, their smiles turning into frowns, as they went back inside, bummed out.

"Holy shit, you're a genius" he says.

"I know, you're welcome"

Eddie rolls his eyes as if he was annoyed.

“Hey, you know who’s acting real smug?” Steve whispers in your ear as he nods towards Eddie. “Try to make him blush, only you would”

“Pff, good luck with that” Eddie steps in.

“Big talk for a guy who tripped over a cat earlier” you smirk.

“That cat came out of nowhere! And I don’t blush, sweetheart” He defends.

“So I can’t get to you?” you scoot closer.

“I’d like to see you try” he smirks.

“You have a lot of rings” you almost whisper since you got so close to him, as you trace your fingers on his rings.

“You like them?” he grins.

“I do, they really complete your look” you smile.

“I also can do this:” he says and takes one chunky ring off, to start rolling it finger through finger.

You see his trick but also get distracted by the cute face he makes as he’s concentrating, the tip of his tongue out of his mouth.

“You’re really cute when you concentrate like that” you giggle and distract him.

He fumbles a little to put his ring back on, and bites his lip to hide his grin.

“You okay over there, Munson?” Steve laughs. “Is that a little pink I see on your cheeks?”

“I’m fine, dumbass” he says.

“You can’t even say your own name!” Steve laughs.

“I did not forget my name! You two are evil”

You giggle as you plant a peck on his cheek.

From the way the two friends were handling the situation, you'd think they had done this before. But the truth is they had no idea what they were doing. Without noticing, they were both going for the same girl, and fortunately –or unfortunately, they were yet to see–, she seemed to like them both back.

“Maybe, but I’m not the one blushing over a five-foot minion” Steve comments and you shove him playfully.

But they were not overthinking this yet, they both let it happen. Watching you flirt with one and then the other.

You did notice they were very good friends, in the trust and confidence they had around each other.

But neither of the three of you tortured yourselves trying to figure this out. None of you knew what the hell was going to end up happening tonight, but you didn't trouble yourselves too much with it.

“I have a serious question” you start.

“Uh oh” Eddie muttered.

“Have you two ever kissed?” you ask, and that shut them up pretty fast.

Steve chokes on his drink. “What?”

Eddie laughs, nervously maybe. “Jumping straight into that one”

You shrug innocently. “You're very close. I mean, you bicker like an old couple and you seem to have known each other for a long time. It's a fair question”

“Sure, but… no. I don't think so?” Steve ponders.

“Once, kind of. Just a peck in a truth-or-dare dumb thing a few years ago” Eddie explains.

“That wasn't that long ago, it was the last halloween” Steve remembers now.

“Whatever” Eddie says, blushing a little again.

“You're both blushing. God, you're adorable” you laugh.

Steve throws a cushion at you but you catch it.

“I just think it's funny,” you lay back. “you act all cool and cocky but I say one thing and it’s middle-school in here all over again”

“Hey, I'm totally cool with kissing dudes” Eddie defends.

“Oh yeah? So kiss me” Steve calls his bluff.

“Maybe I will, big boy” Eddie doesn't give in.

“You're so flustered” you giggle.

“I hate her” the metalhead groans.

“No, you don't” you smile. “Come on, you both have wondered, I'm sure”

“I never-” Steve scoffed.

“Please, that dare doesn't count. I want a real kiss” you say.

“You want a performance, princess?” Eddie teases.

“You're the one in a band. I thought you liked putting on a show” you say back.

“Are you daring us right now?” Steve asks.

“Do you want me to dare you?” you smirk.

They glance at each other. Steve raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like are you thinking what I'm thinking?

And they were.

Without a word, Steve leans in first. Eddie smirks as he leans in too.

And then suddenly, they were kissing.

It started almost like a joke, just to mess with her. But as they grab each other's faces to shift closer, Steve tilts his head slightly, Eddie's hand on his jaw. The kiss becomes more real.

Meanwhile, you blink, almost in awe. You had front-row tickets to the cutest boys kissing passionately. And that shut you up pretty quickly.

When they finally pulled back, stunned at themselves, they noticed her staring.

“What the hell was that?” you're the first one to speak.

“That was you losing, princess” Eddie says.

“I think we broke her” Steve chuckles as he touches your cheek to see if you still breathed.

“I don't know who I'm more jealous of” you admit.

“Want us to help you decide?” Eddie teases her and you're the one blushing now. “Oh, you're really quiet now” he says, smug as hell, stretching one arm around your shoulders.

“That was fine, I've seen better” you try to act indifferent.

“Sure, that’s why you weren’t even blinking” Steve chuckles.

“I was blinking!”

“You weren’t even breathing” Eddie chimes in.

“You two are so cocky” you roll your eyes.

“And you’re so jealous” Steve smirks.

“I was kidding” you lie.

“So you don’t want a kiss too?”

“I-... maybe” you don’t break eye contact with him, not wanting to lose you upper hand, not wanting to seem desperate.

Steve was still watching you with that same amused glint. His hand reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You really are pretty, you know?” he lets out.

You blink, thinking of a teasing comeback but it just gets stuck on your throat. As he leans in, slowly, his eyes now on your lips, just before he kissed you.

Careful. Gentle. Like a movie kiss. The princess movies you used to watch as a kid.

His hand cupping your cheek as if you were to disappear if he wasn’t careful.

When he pulled back, you felt breathless. In another dimension.

Eddie was watching too, surprisingly quiet.

“Told you,” Steve murmurs, as if he was only talking to Eddie. “She’s the prettiest thing in this house”

It was so clear what he was trying to achieve in you. And you almost hated that he did it so easily.

“You do look like a dream” Eddie whispers in your ear while you were still reeling from that kiss.

You turn to Eddie now. You both smirk. His eyes darker.

“You okay, princess? Still breathing?” his voice low, only for you. You can only nod. “Yeah? He does the prince thing real well. With a hair like that? He grew up thinking he was in a Disney movie”

“Jealous much, Munson?” he responds. but Eddie didn’t answer back. His focus all on you.

He tilts his head slightly, and shows that grin again, leaning slowly.

“But did you ever kiss the guy your daddy would warn you about?”

You giggle at that, shaking your head.

“Wanna try?” he chuckles too. But before you could answer, he’s kissing you.

This one wasn't as careful. It was more confident, like he knew you wanted it before you did. His hand slid behind your neck, pulling you in.

When he pulled away, just barely, lips still brushing. He whispered: “Still breathing?”

“Shut up” you laugh.

The second you sit up again, they’re already bickering.

“I mean, obviously mine was better” Steve grins proudly.

“Please, your kiss was vanilla, sweet, sure. But I made her knees week” Eddie answers.

“You were too harsh”

“She liked it”

“I was literally right here, man. Her eyes fluttered after mine!”

“Oh yeah? Well, she grabbed me like-”

“Are you guys serious right now?” you step in.

“Deadly. I wanna know now”

“You’re so annoying” you complain, still smirking.

“But who was more charming?”

“Yeah? Well, who was more handsome?”

You look between them, as if weighing the options. Then leaned back and shrugged. “Honestly? I’m into both of you”

That made them pause.

“Why just pick one?” you ask innocently. “I could definitely enjoy both of you”

“Holy shit” Steve muttered.

“That’s not fair” Eddie shakes his head, eyes closed.

“You’ve been teasing all night. I deserved this” you smile.

“You’re evil” he says.

“Yeah? I am?” you imitate his pout.

“Yes, you are” he says and grabs your jaw to kiss you again.

As you and Eddie get lost between giggles and more kisses, you open your eyes to see where’s Steve.

You see his eyes going back and forth on the people that are still at the party, which is not as packed as it was a few hours ago, but there's still a few groups hanging out in here.

“Hey,” you call his attention. “everything alright?”

“Yeah, I'm trying to see how long it'll take all these people to leave… or if I can kick them out”

“You want me to kick some butt, Harrington?” Eddie sits back up, almost looking forward to it.

“No, dumbass. It'll be easier to let them leave on their own. It's getting late either way” he says.

“Should we leave too?” you ask and they both turn to you with a frown and a big smirk.

“No, you're not going anywhere” Steve says and gets up, grabbing your hand.

You quickly follow behind, checking to see if Eddie is too. The latter wraps an arm around your waist so he won't lose you.

Steve makes his way upstairs. Slipping through the hallway like kids sneaking past bedtime.

Once he gets to the door of his room, he opens it and lets you in first. “Ma'am”

You giggle and step inside, looking around all the trophies and pictures with friends, smiling at the various ones he had with Eddie, noticing how cute they both look in each of them.

The door clicking shut behind them.

It was quieter here, making you more conscious on the way your heart was beating faster. You sit on the edge of the bed.

Steve stands in front of you, close enough to touch. “Still into both of us?”

You look up at him, then at Eddie, who was leaning against the desk, arms crossed, watching you two with a grin.

You grin as well, “Very much so”

Steve's fingers start brushing up your legs, very slowly. “Very good, sweetheart”

Eddie comes to sit next to you, his thigh pressed to yours, making you feel warmer.

Steve brushes a hair away from your face, like he was admiring you. “You're beautiful”

“You're just saying that because I picked both of you” you laugh.

“No,” Eddie whispers in your ear. “he was thinking it before you even came to talk to us. Weren't you, Harrington?”

“I was” he admits.

“I told you she'd look really cute blushing” Eddie says to Steve while his lips brush your earlobe.

You turn your head to him, and Eddie catches your mouth with his. Slower this time, taking his time pulling you in.

Then Steve leans in, and you turn to him next, catching his mouth in a more urgent kiss. His hands cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

They both took their time with you. And you'd be lying if you said they weren't so fucking good at this. Each kiss was different, and every touch was building more.

Eddie's hands start to wonder. One on your back and the other making his way up in between your legs, reaching to the hem of your dress.

“You're gonna drive us both crazy, princess” he whispers in your ear as you keep making out with Steve.

He kisses your neck passionately. sucking, biting, making you moan into the other boy's mouth.

Steve pulls back and he sees how Eddie kept moving your dress upward and upward, almost catching a glimpse of your panties.

Eddie starts kissing you again, not letting you breathe properly after Steve that he's already pulling you in another.

The other boy sits on your other side and kisses your neck as his hands take liberty. He slowly moves up to your breasts, giving you time to move him away if you didn't want this. But you let him move freely.

As Eddie grabs your jaw and kisses you deeply, Steve starts playing with your breasts on top of the dress, massaging them and softly playing with the nipples, making you whimper in between the kisses.

Eddie moves down as he gets to your collarbone.

“Can we take it off, sweetheart?” Steve asks in your ear.

“Yeah” you almost moan. And he unzips the dress to move it slowly down your body, freeing you from the waist up.

The boys almost forget to breathe when they see you're not wearing a bra underneath.

“Mmph fuck,” Eddie says as he gets closer again to start kissing you there. “you're perfect”

“She really is” Steve lets out as he dives in as well. Each boy kissing, sucking and biting on your breasts, making you whimper and close your legs to find some friction.

Eddie is the first one to let go, he sits up and takes off his jacket and shoes, then takes off your boots as well.

You lay more comfortably on the bed, Steve next to you as he kisses you again. You move his shirt up and he takes it off completely.

Eddie joins you, laying behind you as he kisses down your back and takes your boobs in his hands again.

You arch at his touch and he bites your waist slightly.

When Steve gets up, the other boy flips you around to meet him now and goes back to kissing you. You take his shirt off and throw it to the floor, he gets rid of your dress as well, leaving you only in your panties.

“Fuck” Steve stands there palming his cock through his boxers now, as he already took his jeans off.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, he stands up as well, leaving you in the bed for their eyes only. He gets rid of his jeans as they had gotten really uncomfortable.

You lay back, catching your breath from all those kisses and stare at the two boys, their torsos, their happy trails and down to the tent they both had in their boxers.

Little did you know, they were doing the same to you.

“Who takes their underwear off first?” you smirk, sitting up.

“You are” Eddie smirks, already coming to take it off of you.

“No, wait!” you giggle. “you two… and then me”

“You are an evil woman” Eddie confirms.

There's a few seconds of silence as they wait for the other to do the honors.

“Alright, fine” Steve dares. He slides his red boxers down, letting them fall to the floor.

Steve is… big, his cock stands proudly, large and the tip already pink.

You bite back your smirk and move your eyes to the other boy.

Eddie chuckles, rolls his eyes, and lets his blue boxers down.

To no one's surprise, Eddie is big too. You start to worry about the state of your legs tomorrow.

Eddie's more girthy, not as large. Red tip wet with pre-cum.

“You're drooling” Steve teases you.

“You wish” you say playfully.

“Your turn, pretty girl” he reminds you.

“Can I?” Eddie asks, already grabbing your black panties. You nod and he gladly slides them off.

They both let out a low groan as their eyes only focus on you.

“She's so fucking wet” Steve tells Eddie.

“We barely did anything yet,” Eddie smirks. “you got that wet from a few kisses and touches, baby?”

“I wanna taste her” Steve comments and gets on his knees in front of the bed. He puts your legs on each of his shoulders and starts kissing your thighs.

Eddie lays next to you and pulls you in for another kiss. You moan in his mouth as you feel Steve licking your clit.

He slowly starts kissing and sucking on your clit, making you whimper.

“Yeah? Is he making you feel good? Tell me, baby” Eddie whispers in your ear, then kissing it as well.

“Oh, just like that” you let out.

Steve keeps sucking on your clit, making you feel so good already, as two fingers make their way to your entrance, letting them inside in one swift movement, making you arch back.

Your hands fly to his soft hair, pulling his head even closer.

“Don't bite that lip, sweetheart, let us hear you” Eddie murmurs next to you and you go kiss him again. He smirks and gladly kisses you back. His hand goes to your nipple, playing with it. One of your hands goes down to grab his dick, slowly stroking him.

“Mmm sweetheart, fuck” he moans and goes down to kiss your breasts.

Steve's fingers curl upwards making you moan and pull him closer with your other hand. His tongue flat against your clit, making you feel so close already.

“Oh god!” you scream as they both make you feel so good. “Right there, just like that!”

You stroke Eddie faster, trying to make him feel as good as you are. He keeps mumbling curses against your skin and gripping your waist harder.

“Oh, Steve! Eddieeee!” you moan louder as you feel yourself coming. That high feeling taking over, making your stomach whirl and your legs close, trapping Steve inside.

“Shit, stop, stop” Eddie moves your hand before he cums, getting too lost on your touch and watching you cum was almost making him finish as well.

As you come down, your legs loosen around Steve's head and he looks up laughing, mouth and cheeks shining.

“Come here, taste her” Steve tells Eddie as he pulls him in a hungry kiss.

“Mmh, fuck, so sweet” the other one moans.

“Tastes so good” Steve agrees.

“Shut up” you laugh, blushing.

“You feel okay?” Steve checks in.

“More than okay” you giggle.

“You wanna keep going?” he asks against your lips.

“Yes, please” you smile and kiss him. It's a sweet kiss in between all this passion. He lifts you up so you sit.

“How do you wanna go?” Eddie asks, hugging you from behind.

“I think we're already in position” you joke, Eddie behind you and Steve in front of you.

“You sure you can take Steve in your mouth?” Eddie asks and you all laugh.

“I think she can take it” He smirks.

“Don't you wanna fuck me, Eddie?” you tease him, moving your ass against him back and forth. He grabs your cheeks roughly and sits you on him, making you feel all of him against your pussy.

“You wanna play coy with me, princess?” He says in your ear.

“Mmm, Eddie” you try to move to feel the friction.

“I think he likes to be in control” Steve tells you, as an advice.

“That’s right, you do as we say” Eddie reminds you.

“Yes, sir” you say almost joking, but he liked that.

“Good girl, now go forward, all on fours for us” he slowly pushes you forwad, hands on the mattress and ass up.

Steve grabs a condom from his nightstand and gives it to Eddie so he puts it on.

Steve positions himself in front of you, carresses your cheek as he brushes his dick on your lips. “Open up, beautiful”

You do as he says and open wide, he slides inside your mouth. Slowly for now, allowing you to take your time.

Eddie brushes his tip on your pussy, collecting your slick. And then pushes it inside, inch by inch.

You moan agaist Steve and that makes him groan as well. He collects your hair and makes a ponytail on his hand, to guide you easily.

Eddie grabs your hips tighter once he's all inside. Throws his head back. “She's so tight”

“Yeah? Is she? We're gonna have to stretch her up” Steve comments.

You swallow your moans as you go to take more of Steve, one full hand is still on his base, stroking what you can't take.

“God, that feels good” Steve moans.

“Make sure you take all of Stevie now, you greedy little slut” Eddie says between his teeth. He's meaner than Steve, but that shift of their personalities makes you wish this was not just a one night stand.

You know you can play with Eddie and he will punish you, he will tease you to death. All while Steve feels bad and kisses it better.

You move your hips, making Eddie go faster. He doesn't like that you take over.

He grabs your hips, pulling you closer, making you feel even more full. You moan on Steve's cock.

“Oh you want more? I'll give you more” Eddie says and gives you a hard spank on your ass, making you whimper. All of this getting Steve closer and closer, the vibrations everytime you moan on his cock, your face struggling to take it all, the view of Eddie's cock slamming inside of you and his hand spanking you hard.

Your walls squeeze Eddie tigher, and he spanks you again just feel that.

“Shit, you're so hot. Our little slut” he murmurs as he goes harder. “She's gripping me so hard, man”

“He's not going anywhere, sweetheart” Steve giggles as he mocks you.

You force yourself to take more of Steve. Close your eyes and breath deeply through your nose and you take him further into your mouth.

“Oh yes, just a little more, baby” he moans.

And you do just that, with his help as he pushes your head slowly to take more of him, you suddenly feel his hairs against your nose and you keep him there as long as you can. Your eyes well up and you start coughing.

He let's you breathe. “Atta girl, I knew you could do it. Such a good girl”

Eddie smirks, loving to see you like that. And he doesn't help. Instead, he goes faster and starts playing with your clit, he knew you were getting closer.

“Oh!” you scream as you feel that high building up. Steve brushes your hair and leaves kisses all over you as you take it.

“Are you close, pretty girl? I can feel you squeezing me harder” Eddie moans.

“Yes! Eddie! I- I'm cuming” you cry out.

“Cum for us, lets us see you cum for us again, pretty girl, so beautiful” he kisses your shoulder as well.

“Oh my god! Oh yes!” you let yourself come undone.

And as Eddie feels you cuming around him, he slams faster into you, messier.

“You're so tight, you feel s'good. God, you're so pretty, hottest girl I've ever seen” he keeps rambling, mumbling while he cums.

You both lay back, Eddie throws the condom away, and you catch your breath between giggles as he gives you looks.

“You okay?” he smiles.

“I'm great,” you smile at him. “that was incredible”

“You're incredible” he smiles cheekily.

“Hey,” you turn to Steve. “you”

“Hey you” he smiles at you.

“You didn't finish” you say.

“I'm fine, I'll just take a shower-” he tries but you stop him.

“No, come here”

“But you're tired-”

“I said, come here” you smirk and he laughs.

He sits on the bed, next to you. His dick still standing, a little more red now, wanting attention.

“Grab another condom” you whisper as you sit on his lap.

Eddie sits up, smirking, ready to enjoy the show.

Steve puts it on and pulls you closer. You wrap your arms around his neck and he positions himself on your entrance. “Just tell me if you wanna stop”

“Don't worry” you say and he lowers you on his cock. “Mmph”

“Shit, you're right, she's so tight” he groans, talking to Eddie.

“Isn't she? It's like she doesn't let you escape” Eddie smirks.

“Yeah, man. Even after you fucked her, she's still gripping me” he agrees.

They keep talking as if you weren't even there, and it was turning you on even more. You jump on his cock faster.

“Look at the little bunny, still has my hand marked on her ass” Eddie smirks proudly. He wishes he could take a picture of you jumping on Harrington's cock with his own hand printed on your ass cheek.

Steve grabs your ass and moves you faster, biting on his lip as he's been edged all night, he's about to cum so hard.

Eddie notices that and gets closer to you, fingers on your clit to help you cum once more. “Can you do another one, princess? Be a good girl and cum on Steve's cock now”

“Oh fuck” you arch back, so close already.

“Go on, princess. Wanna watch you cum again, you look so perfect cuming for us” Eddie's fingers work on your clit a little too well, guitarist fingers, no doubt. Steve's cock still slamming into you, making you feel so full. It's only a few seconds later that they have you cuming again. Which obviously makes Steve finish too, he was trying to hold it so you could still cum.

After some minutes where you come back down, Eddie grabs you and pulls you on his lap, Steve gets up and throws the condom. He notices there's less noise downstairs now, there must be just a few people still hanging out that he'll have to kick out. He throws something on and gets out.

“Hey, let's go clean you up” Eddie whispers.

After a couple of minutes, Eddie and you get comfy on the bed. You put a DIO shirt on that you guess it's Eddie's. And then, Steve comes back up.

“They left, finally” he announces.

“You're just in time to stop the villain from stealing the princess” Eddie jokes.

“Make some room, idiot” Steve takes his jeans back off.

“Come here, big boy. The bed's warm and she's warmer”

#steddie x reader smut #steddie smut #steddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington

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fanficgirl429 · 11 hours ago

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Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Prompt: Y/N admits to Bucky that she has feelings for him

---

Bucky Barnes sat on the worn porch steps of a little house nestled near the bayou, sipping a cup of coffee that was made by Y/N. She had made it a little hot and a little too strong but he didn’t complain. He never did when Y/N made it.

Y/N was Sam’s friend—someone who used to help at the dock with her sleeves rolled up and her mouth full of sharp-witted jokes. She'd seen Bucky at his worst during those early days, still haunted and quiet, carrying the weight of names in a little notebook. But she never looked at him with pity. A few times he had caught her staring at him, her cheeks turning a slight shade of red, when his eyes locked with hers.

It had been a long time since he had started to get feelings for someone. In fact, he thought that it would never happen again, but he found himself falling fast for Y/N the more he got to know her.

Now, weeks after the fighting had stopped, he was still here. Not because he had nowhere else to go. Because this place was… comfortable. Everyone was warm, welcoming, and friendly. He liked that most people here didn’t seem afraid of him.

“You’re brooding again,” Y/N said from behind the screen door. She stepped out barefoot, balancing two plates of food.

Bucky looked up and gave her a crooked smile. “I’m not brooding. I’m contemplating.”

“Contemplating your brooding,” she teased, handing him a plate. “Eat. You didn’t eat anything during dinner.”

He shifted, accepting the food. “Didn’t feel hungry.”

“You never feel hungry. You just wait until I shove something in front of you.”

He looked at her then, really looked. Her hair was messed up from spending the day in the sun, a hint of sunburn beginning to appear on her shoulder.

“You take care of me too much,” he said softly.

Y/N sat beside him, her shoulder brushing his. “Maybe I like taking care of you.”

He swallowed, the words catching him off guard. “You shouldn’t. I’ve got… a past. A heavy one.”

She placed her hand in his and squeezed it. “We all do. But you’ve got a future too.”

Bucky glanced down at their hands and laced his fingers through hers, his throat tight. No one ever said that to him without a hint of fear or hesitation. But Y/N? She said it like it was the simplest truth in the world.

And for the first time in a long time, he believed it.

----

The next day Bucky stood at the edge of the dock, hands in his pockets, watching the water ripple beneath the soft wind. There had been a small dinner together at the Wilsons house and although Bucky enjoyed everyone’s company, he had needed a few minutes alone. He liked the silence, in fact he preferred it.

Behind him, the sound of Y/N’s laughter echoed from the open windows of her house. He let out a small smile, happy to hear the sound. It was a comfortable sound.

A few minutes later he heard the sound of soft footprints approaching behind him. “You’re doing it again,” Y/N called, walking down the dock barefoot with two beers in hand. “Contemplating.”

He smirked. “I thought I was brooding.”

“Depends on your posture,” she teased, handing him a bottle. “Tonight you’re contemplative. Less shadows in your eyes.”

He twisted the cap off and took a sip. “Think I’m getting soft.”

“You deserve soft,” she said, leaning against the post beside him. “After everything, you deserve more than just survival.”

Bucky glanced at her. She didn’t flinch when he looked. She never did. That was the thing about Y/N—she didn’t try to fix him, she just saw him. Not as the Winter Soldier, or the White Wolf, or even just Steve’s friend. She saw him.

“Is that what this is?” he asked. “Something 'more'?”

Y/N looked up at him, the last of the light catching in her eyes. “Could be. If you want it to be.”

He hesitated. Not because he didn’t want it. But because wanting felt dangerous. Because the last time he let someone in, they either died or were left behind. But here she was—still standing next to him. Still waiting, quietly.

“I want it,” he said, the words coming out rough but honest. “I want more. With you.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Just set her beer down, stepped closer, and laid her hand gently on his chest—over the place that still ached sometimes, even when it shouldn’t.

“Then take it,” she whispered.

And so he did.

He leaned in, slowly, giving her every second to pull away. But she didn’t. Her hand slid up, fingers brushing the stubble on his jaw as he kissed her—soft, sure, real. The world didn’t stop, but it got quieter. More focused. Just them. Just now.

When they pulled apart, her smile tugged at the corners of her lips like she’d known this was coming for a long time.

“Told you,” she murmured. “You’re not broken.”

---

The next morning, the rain was pouring down. It was the kind of storm that made you stay in bed longer, wrapped in silence and someone else’s warmth.

Bucky woke first.

Y/N was curled into his side, one arm slung across his chest like she belonged there. He didn’t move. Didn’t dare. There was something sacred about the stillness—the way her fingers twitched slightly in sleep, the way her cheek rested against the scarred line of his shoulder like she trusted it not to hurt her.

He stared at the ceiling, heart tight in his chest, as if something fragile inside him might break open if he let it. Not because he was scared of her—but because he was scared of how much this meant.

She stirred eventually, eyelids fluttering open. “You’re thinking again.”

“I think a lot.”

“You also stare like the world might fall apart if you blink.”

He gave a soft laugh. “That obvious?”

“Mmhmm.” She propped herself up on an elbow and studied him, her voice quieter now. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Bucky hesitated, then exhaled slowly. “I used to wake up like this… in Wakanda. Peaceful. But it was always temporary. Always waiting for something to go wrong.”

“And now?” she asked.

“Now it feels real. And that scares the hell out of me.” He turned to face her fully. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For someone to come knocking. For me to hurt someone without meaning to. For you to leave.”

Her hand found his. “I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t know what being with me really means, Y/N. I have nightmares. I disappear into myself some days. There’s parts of me I’m still trying to forgive.”

She nodded. “And I won’t pretend to have all the answers. But I’m here, Bucky. Not just when you’re smiling on the porch, but when it’s 3 a.m. and you’re shaking in the dark. I want all of it, not just the pieces that are easy.”

He closed his eyes, her words wrapping around old wounds like gentle hands. She wasn’t afraid of his shadows. She walked right into them, lit a fire, and sat beside him.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said. “A real relationship. I’ve never had one that wasn’t… wartime or chaos.”

“Then we learn together,” she whispered. “We take the hard days. We hold steady. And we make a home, right here. Even if the world doesn’t stop spinning.”

Bucky nodded slowly, and this time, he didn’t try to hide the emotion in his eyes.

“I’m falling for you, Y/N,” he said, voice barely above a breath. “And that terrifies me.”

She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Then be terrified. But fall anyway.”

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kesujo · 13 hours ago

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Chapter 15: Let's Try This

Previous chapter here.

After waking up a few times at the sensation of Irene guiding his cock back inside her, when he finally woke up the following morning, Irene was already awake, lightly grinding against his morning wood.

“Irene…?”

“Hm?” Irene directed her gaze up at Parker, greeting him with a slight smile. “Morning.” The honey-smooth, soothing quality of her voice was slightly strained, and looking at her face, Parker could tell why. “Turns out, you were right. I am soo sore down there.”

Parker scoffed. “Wha—then, why didn’t you take me out?”

“Well, I told you I would do it, and I’m a woman of my word.”

“At the expense of your own comfort and safety?”

“It’s a matter of pride, Parker.” Parker had been so preoccupied with the woman whose pussy was still squeezing his erection that he had forgotten about the other woman on the bed next to them. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But, seriously, Irene, if it’s so uncomfortable, you should get off now, right? Especially now that I’m awake.”

Irene pouted. “But, it’s such a waste of such wonderful morning wood…”

“Don’t worry, Rene, I got it.”

Jessica ended up just giving him a blowjob while Irene stood at the side, nursing the soreness in her groin while watching, and proceeding to spend most of the rest of the day recovering from the previous night at Parker’s place before heading out after dinner. A few days later, Tiffany showed up at Parker’s place, upon her insistence to ‘explain things’, as she stated.

Personally, Parker didn’t feel a need to pry: after all, they technically weren’t even dating yet, and even if they were, the kind of ‘weird’ Tiffany’s kink was, to Parker, was no stranger than the weirdness Jessica had accustomed him to. Parker briefly pondered how, in such a relatively short span of time, even such things as a cuckolding kink didn’t particularly phase him, and then he thought about how often he’s had a nearly identical train of thought in the last few weeks.

“Um…”

Now that they were in front of each other, Tiffany was considerably shier. It was understandable too—Tiffany probably didn’t intend on informing him about this tidbit about herself for some time, and now that she was thrust into this position, albeit in part by herself, she was in this position: sat on his couch, eyes directed at her twiddling thumbs, red-faced.

“It’s ok, Tiffany. I won’t judge you. If you don’t want to say any more, that’s also fine.”

“No! I—…” Tiffany sighed, then took a deep breath, nodding to herself, and continued, “…sorry you didn’t hear it from me first. I … I don’t really know why I’m like this, and I can’t really explain it either, but … I mean, I trust you a lot, and I’m only like this with a man I trust a lot—I mean, not that you’re, like, with me or anything—”

“Tiffany.” The stammering woman stopped at the firm, gentle call of her name. “Shall we make this easier, then?”

“Huh?”

“I would be more than happy to be considered ‘being with you’.”

It took Tiffany a while to process Parker’s words, and even more time for her to clasp her hands over her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh my—are-are you sure?!”

Parker could only smile at that. “Why wouldn’t I be, Tiff?”

The dam of tears shattered, and Tiffany flung herself at Parker. “I-I-I-I, I, I would, I would—” Completely unable to finish her sentence due to the sobs that are erupting from her, Parker wrapped his arms around the shaking woman. He understood being happy, but … this? It feels a little over the top. Was he thinking too deeply about this?

“I’m not going anywhere, Tiff.” Maybe it was just the sheer euphoria of seeing Tiffany’s positive reaction to the question that was clouding his judgement.

“Thank you, thank you so much, I’m—I’m, I’m so relieved…”

“Tiffany…” No, he was right. It wasn’t just some small issue. Was it something he did? But then, why was Tiffany hugging him and crying like this? “…what’s wrong?” If Parker didn’t ask, he wouldn’t feel good about himself, or about any of this.

“I’m sorry, it’s stupid…”

“No, it’s not stupid, Tiffany. I’m sure it’s perfectly valid.” Her sobs had reduced to sniffles, but still, Tiffany planted her face into the crook of his neck. “It’s ok, Tiffany. I’m here for you. I won’t judge you. If it’s you, I’m sure it’s extremely understandable, what you’re feeling.”

“Sorry…”

“It’s ok. Take your time.”

Tiffany took a few more seconds to calm down before responding. “It’s just … I was so scared … that, um…” Parker stayed patient, continuing to gently stroke her hair, wordlessly waiting for her to finish her thought, “…that … you would find it so weird … that you … you, you would, that you wouldn’t like me anymore…”

In a way, Parker could see Tiffany’s point: if he were told that most people wouldn’t want to date someone who had such a kink, Parker wouldn’t have much trouble believing it. But, on the other hand, he couldn’t really empathize with it at all: if anything, it’s a massive relief to him, what with the competition with Jessica and Hunter and all. For a woman like Tiffany, it was all but given that Parker would accept such a minor quirk.

“I don’t, Tiffany. I still love you just as much as before.”

It took a good few minutes for Tiffany to calm down after that, but with a sufficient amount of tissues, she had regained her composure and continued where she left off. “Well, so, I was saying, um, that I’m only like this if the man I’m with is someone I trust absolutely, and I know that you’re not, um, emotionally attached with the other woman or anything. Something like that.” It was clear that Tiffany was beginning to waffle, but Parker’s steady gaze and encouraging nod prompted her to continue. “I … to be honest, I don’t really know. For some reason, I simultaneously find the idea of my man having s—having, um, you know, with another woman—or, I mean, a woman I also trust, like Jessica or Irene—but also want to know that my man won’t cheat on me, or leave me for her. I know it’s weird, but for me, I mean, I’m … well, I like the man I’m attracted to, and as a woman, I like my man in that way too, so … I don’t know, I only know it’s weird because I’ve picked up on it over the years, but to me, it makes sense.”

What a complicated set of conditions for Tiffany’s kink to activate, all of which just happened to be met in Parker’s circumstance. Or, perhaps another way to think about it is that it’s only because these conditions are met that he even got to know Tiffany this well in the first place. The thing that Parker took away most from that, though, was that Tiffany seemed to trust him a lot—so much, in fact, that she was confident that he would stay loyal to her even before he was her boyfriend. Knowing that reassured Parker even more about Tiffany, but still, he couldn’t shake away one thing.

“But…” the reaction Parker got from Tiffany was definitely not what he was expecting. Her body seemed to tense, as if readying herself for something. But what? “…no, I mean, I just…” it seemed to get worse the more Parker talked, and that put him more on edge. Was he saying something wrong? “…um, I don’t know. I just feel bad, still.”

“Wh-Wh-Why?”

“Tiffany, are you ok?” Parker reached out, tenderly grabbing her hand. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Huh? What? No! I’m ok. Why?”

Was this just a misunderstanding? “I—…I was just saying, it still feels wrong, and now that you’re officially my girlfriend now, I … I don’t know, even if I know you’re ok with it, it still feels like … you know, continuing in the competition with Jessica isn’t something I should be doing.”

“Oh!” At the very least, it was a relief to see the tension in Tiffany’s body disappear. What it was he said, Parker had no idea. “That’s what you meant. No, you don’t have to feel bad! I mean, it’s not like you’re in love with Jessica or anything.”

“Pfft.”

Tiffany turned to Parker with wide eyes, letting out a surprised chuckle. “What?!”

“Sorry.”

“That’s not very nice to Hunter! I’ll tell him you laughed at the idea of being in love with his wife!”

“Well, Hunter’s, you know, Hunter. Those two are crazy.”

“…oh. Is he?”

“Yeah. You know, super-high achieving, really intense. Work hard, play hard. Right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. So is Jessica, now that I think about it.”

“They’re made for each other, right?” Tiffany nodded. “Yeah, but not for me. I want to be able to chill sometimes.”

“Yeaah, I know what you mean!”

Tiffany shared some stories about the times Tiffany had to bring a completely-crashed-out Jessica home after partying a little too hard, but Parker was feeling a little better about the whole situation. Still…

“So, we’ve established that I already am dealing with too much Jessica as is, but…”

“Um!” It was clear Tiffany had an idea but immediately realized it was a bad one, especially with how quickly the tips of her ears turned pink. “… I … if you really feel bad, I, um … I-I-I, I can show you…”

“Hm? Show me what?” Tiffany pulled out her phone, and as Parker watched her navigate to the gallery, it became clear what she meant. “Um! First, please don’t…”

Gosh, was Tiffany so insanely adorable. “I’ll still love you, no matter what you’re about to show me.”

Although Parker had a good idea what Tiffany wanted to show him, seeing it was still a little jarring. “I, um … Irene sent me these, and I, um…” with every syllable, Tiffany’s voice got quieter, and her face redder, although Parker couldn’t tell if it was because of how embarrassed she was or how hot she was getting at seeing these pictures, of his cock buried deep in Irene’s pussy. “…I saved them. Immediately.”

The following silence that elapsed, Parker could tell Tiffany’s face was just becoming redder and redder. So, for a lack of anything better to say, Parker went with, “…so, you’re saying that, as long as I send you pictures every time, it’s ok?”

“Parker!” Parker laughed as Tiffany slapped his shoulder, her face erupting into an even deeper shade of red. “…but, if you really don’t mind …”

Parker somehow heard Tiffany saying those words quietly, and when he did, his laughter intensified.

“You-You promised not to laugh!”

“I said that I’d still love you no matter what, which I still do. I’m just … just, really relieved.”

“Hmph. Never mind.”

“Don’t be like that, Tiff.” In the brief moment before Tiffany turned away from him, Parker managed to catch a glimpse of an expression of Tiffany’s that he didn’t get to bear witness to from their first night together until now: red-faced, flustered, but also, aroused. “Let me make it up to you.”

Feeling Parker’s breath on her ear, Tiffany flinched, letting out a yelp before she could do anything about it. “P-Parker!”

“Can I?”

Her ears turned even redder as Parker’s arms snaked around her waist, but she kept her face turned away from him: this time, not so much as to pretend to be mad at him but more so to hide just how flustered, and just how turned on, she was.

“Ca-Ca-Can, Can you what?”

A smile sprouted on Parker’s lips, but this time, no laughter. “Let me make it up to you, babe.” Those words uttered into her ears, combined with the feeling of Parker’s hands slipping under her shirt and caressing her stomach, caused Tiffany to let out another, louder yelp.

“W-Wa-Wai-Wait, Parker…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow.”

Tiffany’s eyes fluttered shut, a sigh escaping her lips as Parker’s strong, firm hands gently caressed her abs. “Oh…” No longer able to pretend, Tiffany started to lean back into Parker’s touch, her arms relaxing and melting into Parker’s embrace. “Mmm…”

“Is that ok?” When Tiffany didn’t respond for a second, Parker asked again, “Is that ok, Tiff?”

“Hm?”

“Can I keep going?”

Tiffany nodded, and Parker’s hands began migrating north, stopping just short of the undergarment covering her chest. His hand gently cupped her breasts, eliciting a soft gasp from the lips of his now girlfriend, but didn’t apply too much pressure to them. The fleeting touch left Tiffany wanting more, but, being too shy to express it, only leaned into his touch in response. Parker pulled back, and Tiffany unconsciously chased him, and when he noticed this, a smile sprouted on his lips.

How long would Tiffany last before she said something? Would she continue to try to lean into his touch? Just a little bit … strangely enough, this wasn’t the first time Parker had sex with Tiffany despite only now becoming her boyfriend, but there were still many firsts ahead of them. He just wanted a little bit, a little taste of a needy, whiny Tiffany, aroused beyond belief, begging for his touch … just a hint, a tease of what it’s like.

Was this fucked up of him? Was it Jessica’s influence that he thought of this? Before, Parker felt like he never would’ve had such a desire. Maybe it’s Tiffany who is drawing the desire out from him: her innocence, her purity, contrasted by her smoking hot body and her outfit that so beautifully traces out her curves.

Push and pull—Parker would let Tiffany’s breasts fill his hands, gently kneading and massaging them, and when that happens, Tiffany starts to lean back in content, but before Tiffany could get used to it, Parker would detach his hands. And so, the cycle would continue, with the impatient whine playing at Tiffany’s lips growing louder and louder until, finally, it was audible to Parker.

“Pl-Please, wai-wait…”

There it is.

Tiffany’s voice, her infallible gentleness, a softness that made Parker want to wrap Tiffany in a warm blanket and protect her, even the subtle aroma of strawberry that lingered about her, Parker found himself falling deeper and deeper into the unescapable pit that was Tiffany’s charm.

“What is it, babe?”

“Par-Parker…”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t … don’t go…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Tiffany.”

“No, I mean … your—your hands…”

“Do you want more?”

Tiffany was irresistible though. How adorable was Tiffany? The bashful tone of her voice, the way she asked, Parker could only bear stringing her along for so long. Seeing a puppy jumping at one’s feet, trying to reach the treat in one’s hands, one can only keep the treat from it for so long before caving.

Tiffany nodded, and that was all the go-ahead Parker needed to pull the bra down and palm her bare breasts.

“Ooh!”

His fingers sunk into the plush texture of her boobs while his palm filled up with them, and as it happened, Tiffany’s soft moans and gasps slowly grew in volume and frequency. “Does it feel good?”

Both from the feeling of Parker’s hands caressing and massaging her boobs and from feeling his deep, resonating voice so close to her ear, Tiffany could only whimper out a, “y-yes~”

By now, she had forgotten all about her ‘anger’ towards Parker, her back arching and pushing her boobs into his hands as they began moving in increased fervor. His fingers made their way to her areola, and when he softly pinched her nipples, Tiffany could’ve sworn she came a little.

“G-Go—od…”

It was dangerously addictive. Even when Tiffany was whimpering, she was utterly adorable, and knowing it arose from the extremely pleasant feeling of massaging her boobs, Parker sunk further and further into it. He wanted more: feel up her boobs more, to feel her body shuddering against his, to hear her soft, silky voice let out those soft whimpers and groans as his hands did their magic on her boobs, and to hear those small sounds evolve into sharp yelps as he squeezed her swollen, hardened nipples. Tiffany had gradually shifted onto Parker’s lap until now, where it felt like she was now gradually shifting closer to his body until Tiffany’s back was pressed flush against his chest. It wasn’t until he started to feel Tiffany lightly grinding against the tent that had formed in his pants that he even realized how uncomfortably hard he had gotten.

“Tiff…”

Hearing him calling out her name, dripping with such desire, and feeling Parker pressing his erection against her ass, Tiffany nodded. “I—I, I want it.”

“Let me get a condom, babe.”

“Wa-Wait!” Just as Parker began to pull away, the sudden interjection from Tiffany caused him to freeze. “I’m on the pill. It’s ok.”

“Are you sure?”

When Tiffany turned around, Parker’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. His beautiful, kind, pure, considerate, weird girlfriend, looking at him with such an aroused expression … it would be enough to bring any man to his knees. Luckily for Parker, he was already sitting down.

“Yeah.”

“Then, should we move to the bedroom?”

Surprisingly, Tiffany shook her head. “Right-Right here. Where we had our first time.”

A smile broke out on Parker’s lips. “I didn’t know you were sentimental like that, babe.”

A blush creeped up on Tiffany’s cheeks—or, rather, a deeper blush than the one already present—but she responded anyway by saying, “I want to show you how good I’ve gotten, especially compared to last time.”

“How good you’ve gotten? Last time?”

“At fitting you. You, your…” even if you were starting to get the idea of what Tiffany was trying to say, seeing her floundering about was much too enjoyable to get you to stop her, “um, you know. You—you, your, fitting you inside me.”

Even when Tiffany’s talking about such a subject, how can she be so unbelievably adorable?! “Is that so?” Parker wanted to laugh, but the thought of the implications of her words left his mind reeling. He wanted to tease Tiffany for it, but the thought of it … but, just to make sure… “…and how did you do that?”

“Hm?”

Parker couldn’t resist. It must’ve been Jessica’s bad influence that made him want to tease Tiffany so relentlessly. Then again, it was probably Jessica’s influence that Tiffany was like this, too. “How did you get better at that?”

Tiffany’s face was just turning more and more red, and it made Parker want to push her even more. “Oh! Um…”

“Let me guess: Jessica convinced you, or did something for you?”

“…yeah…”

“What is it?”

Tiffany, in addition to looking embarrassed, was also looking a little bit guilty. However, considering everything else she had been so hesitant about, Parker wasn’t even remotely worried about whatever it was Tiffany’s mind was preoccupied with. “…promise you won’t hate me?”

Instead of responding, Parker leaned forward and gave her a peck on the lips. When he pulled away, Parker couldn’t help but smile a little at the startled expression on Tiffany’s face. “Of course not.”

“…are you sure?”

“Do you need some more convincing?”

Parker placed his hands around her waist, but before they could get anywhere, Tiffany let out a squeal and said, “N-No! It’s ok!” Parker retracted his hands, letting Tiffany catch her breath before continuing, “Um … well, Jess did help … she, um, gave me … well, she said you wouldn’t mind! And, I thought, I didn’t, I thought, that, um, that it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but now that I think about it, it’s sorta weird, especially because you—”

“Tiffany.” Parker placed his hands on Tiffany’s, who subsequently looked up to meet his gaze. “It’s ok.” Her waffling and panicking melted away in an instant.

“Sorry…”

“It’s fine.”

“…um, well, Jess gave me a … um, a, a, um, a model of your … um, you know, a replica of your, your…” seeing Tiffany’s eyes flicker down clued Parker in as to what she was trying to say, but seeing her floundering about was just too adorable a sight to let him intervene. “…your, um, your—your, your, you. I mean, not like, you, but, um … it. Your pen—your penis.”

Parker only felt slightly bad for forcing Tiffany to get those words out. Only slightly, though. In his defense, however, it was far too entertaining, and far too endearing, to cut short. “I see.”

“You’re not mad?”

On one hand, Parker couldn’t help but smile, but on the other, Jessica’s words reverberated in his mind: a cautionary tale of sorts, a warning, of her past relationship that somehow ended poorly. Was this the aftereffects of that? “No. I know about the dildo molded in the shape of my penis, but I just didn’t know had more than one made.”

“Oh…”

“…so, that’s how?”

“Hm?”

Fuck.

That thought was going to ruin him.

“Is that how you ‘got better’?”

“Oh! Um … um, ye—…—yeah…”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The imagery that appeared in his mind, of Tiffany laying in her bed, with the dildo in the shape and size of his cock in her hand, slowly yet firmly guiding it between her legs, parting her glistening wet folds and slowly but steadily prying apart her walls, the sweet, musical moans that would escape her lips, kept at barely a whisper because of her embarrassment despite being secluded in the privacy of her own bedroom in her own apartment, sweat starting to form on her forehead as more and more of the dildo enters her, but fighting on regardless, steadfast and stubborn, lips parted and eyes closed, legs trembling, her bedsheets being stained with more and more of her juices …

Yeah, Tiffany may very well be the death of him.

“So, you want to try the real thing now?”

“…well, um, if you don’t mind…”

Parker tried to refrain from laughing at that, but ultimately let out a stifled chuckle. “Babe, of course I don’t mind.”

In her excitement, Tiffany spent almost an entire minute fumbling with his belt and zipper—Parker, of course, offered to do it instead, but Tiffany insisted that she be the one to take off his pants and his boxers, and when she finally succeeded, the mostly hardened cock that sprung free from its restraints nearly hits her in the face.

“Wow, it’s so…” Entranced, Tiffany’s hands are drawn towards his member, and the feeling of Tiffany’s dainty hands gently caressing his member causes Parker to let out a hiss. “…so big … and so warm…”

“Shall I return the favor?”

“Hm?” How caught off guard Tiffany is at his question makes him laugh even more.

“You took off my underwear, do you want me to take off yours?”

“It’s ok.”

On one hand, Parker wanted to help Tiffany out of her underwear, but on the other, he wanted to make sure Tiffany is as comfortable as possible. This is only their second time, after all.

The way she took off underwear off, though, made Parker think she was influenced by a certain friend of hers: turned around, with her shorts on the ground, bending over and pulling her panties down, inadvertently shoving her ass and showing off her glistening, wet, pink folds to Parker in all their glory.

But, when she turned around, Tiffany looked none the wiser. “Ok. I’m ready.”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Hm?” Oh. She’s just that innocent, huh? “Do what on purpose?”

“The way you took your underwear off…?” The continued, confused look on Tiffany’s face made Parker almost feel bad for her that Jessica is one of her friends. “…I could see everything very clearly.”

“Hm?” Confusion, quickly replaced by a horrified look of realization. “Oh!” Tiffany’s face was starting to return to its normal color, too, but in that one moment, her face turns back to beet red. “I’m-I’m-I’m so sorry!”

“No, don’t be. It was really sexy. You should do it more often.”

“…oh…”

Seriously, what business did Tiffany have, being this adorable, even as she was getting ready to take on the challenge, for the second time, of fitting his cock inside her?

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes!” With great haste, Tiffany turns back around and sits down on his lap. “But, um, you’ll have to help me a little.”

“Of course.” When Tiffany jumped at the feeling of his hands securing themselves around her waist, Parker instantly paused. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” It’s like Tiffany is perpetually in a hurry, and the rushed way she answered Parker makes him smile a little wider. “Sorry, I just wasn’t … um, I mean, um … nothing, keep going. Please.”

“I’m your boyfriend now, babe, no need to be so polite.”

“Oh! Um, so—I mean, um, tha—thank you…?”

It was almost unbelievable, this specimen that is Tiffany Hwang, yet here she was, in his lap, asking him to help her impale herself on his cock. “You’re so adorable, what am I going to do with you?”

“You-You, You can, you can, um, well, you can—”

“Tiffany, I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to change my mind.” Parker’s soothing voice, so close to Tiffany’s ears, simultaneously make her jump but also calm her nerves. “Go ahead, try asking me without a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’.”

“Um … th-then, honey, can you help me with—” At the predictable place Tiffany hit a roadblock, Parker patted her stomach gently, reassuring her and giving her the confidence to continue, “—with, with putting your co—your cock inside me?”

If Parker had one less ounce of restraint, he might’ve taken that as his cue to pull Tiffany onto his raging hard-on and shove it inside her wet, waiting hole—thankfully, not only was there a physical separation that made that a little bit more difficult, but the practice that Jessica unknowingly provided him with, although not explicitly training him for this, gave him the patience to reign in his sex drive.

“Of course, babe.”

Parker had to be doubly careful with guiding Tiffany backwards, lest his lust take control and cause him to hurt her, pausing right as he had Tiffany’s ass pressed flush against his erection. Tiffany let out something between a sharp exhale and a soft moan, slightly grinding against his stiff member. “Ooh, gosh…”

“Slowly, ok?” Tiffany nodded, and, taking that as permission to continue, Parker lifted her partially off his lap while Tiffany’s hand reached downwards to grab his cock, aligning it with her entrance. “I’m going in.”

“Hmmm…” The anticipation inside Tiffany having built so much that it was being forced out of her mouth, Tiffany could only watch as that cock she spent way too many nights thinking about these past few weeks get closer to her, and when it finally brushed against her labia, she let out another, louder moan. “Hnn—!”

“Remember, we’re not in any rush, babe.”

The repeated reassurances from Parker did help Tiffany put her mind at ease, especially when she started to feel his dick starting to push aside her damp labia and into her pussy. “Hnn … oh, oh my…” it was even before his tip fully entered Tiffany that she was already starting to feel it: his size, his firm hands guiding her onto his shaft, and how hot it was.

When Tiffany was practicing by herself in the safety of her own bedroom, she could take all the time she needed, and it was with a toy that she had complete freedom to maneuver; now, she had more or less surrendered control to Parker, it was both scary and extremely arousing. In her own bedroom, she could go at her own pace, but because of how intimidated she was at even the toy-version of Parker’s dick, she would find herself taking quite a while to psyche herself up to even get started. With Parker, she wasn’t granted that time to mentally prepare herself, like how she would press the phallic object against her folds and then drawing away repeatedly until gaining the courage to push it in; Tiffany knew she could say something and Parker would stop, but she just didn’t. Surrendering control of her body, feeling Parker’s cock slowly pushing her pussy lips further and further and stretching her walls more and more, what started out as a sort of stubbornness in swallowing the discomfort and anxiety for Parker’s sake gradually transformed into sheer ecstasy.

And, as Parker delved deeper inside her, she came across the thing that she figured would be the biggest difference between the dildo and the real thing: body heat. She even tried warming the sex toy up by soaking it in warm water for a bit, but that by no means prepared for how, as Parker very slowly entered her, how his body heat seemed to seep into her body as well.

“Oh my … my go-od…”

It was almost torturous, pushing himself as slowly as he was inside Tiffany, but he could feel that it was necessary; he just barely pushed his tip completely inside and was already starting to feel hints of resistance. That, and the feeling of her sticky, damp pussy lips stretching around his girth, clamping tightly around its circumference, pushed Parker’s lust ever higher.

“Fuck, Tiffany…”

The groan that arose from Parker’s lips was a result of that pent-up lust, being shoved down into his body as he slowly, painstakingly slowly, advanced inside her. Tiffany’s sincerity made it easy to keep a lid on that impatience, but there was something about the back-view of Tiffany, how her shirt came just short of her shapely ass and how fucking amazing her waist feels in his hands. There were many upsides that Parker could see with being with Tiffany: of course, she’s breathtakingly beautiful, and despite her naturally cute demeanor that makes one want to simultaneously protect her and tease her relentlessly, she also has all the right curves in all the right places. Of anyone he’s ever gotten to know, Tiffany has to be the kindest, gentlest person he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, and on top of all of that, she’s a very driven woman who takes her career in marketing very seriously. And then, the cherry on top is how addictingly silky-smooth her skin is: without exaggeration, Parker could see himself very easily hooked on this feeling, of running his hands across her skin, and then also hearing the small moans that escape her lips when he does so.

“Are you ok?”

Tiffany nodded. “That—That wasn’t so bad…”

“Hm? Tiff, I’m not even halfway inside yet…”

“…Huh?!”

Parker let out a laugh. “I thought you practiced.”

“Well—well, I-I-I did, I did, but it’s, it’s just—…” the more she stammered the more she lost her words, and it didn’t help that Parker was continuing to slowly, steadily, push himself inside her and splitting her pussy walls wide apart as she attempted to string words together into a coherent response. “—…oh god … I … Par-Parker, oh my…”

It was tight, alright, but it was noticeably easier than the first time; whether or not Tiffany realized it, Parker could feel the results of her practice. The first time, Parker stopped before going all the way in, the resistance he was feeling being a strong enough deterrent from doing so; now, although Tiffany’s pussy still felt like it was trying to wring the life out of his cock, he could still feel her walls flexing and stretching to accommodate him; that, and the natural lubricant that she was generating and lathering his length with, made it easier.

“Almost there.”

The words were true in a sense; although Parker had no way of knowing for sure, it felt like there was probably about a third of his length to go. And, if his speculation was true, then, for some, two-thirds could be considered ‘almost there’—in this case, whether or not Tiffany considered that to be ‘almost there’, Parker whispered the words into her ears to give her the confidence to keep going, and being the stubborn woman, the type of woman who worked unnecessarily hard to please the people she loved, which held doubly true for the man she loved, it was motivation enough for her to respond with, “Gosh, Parker, I—it, it still feels too big, but, it’s—but, you’re, it’s also so hot…”

“Do you like it?”

“Mmm … mmhhmm, yes, it feels so amazing…”

It must’ve been the sheer amount of pleasure Tiffany was feeling that was making her delirious, but she didn’t even seem embarrassed to make such a bold statement. And, to know that he was the cause of it, Parker felt his chest swelling with pride. That was the positive though—the negative was a thought that creeped in: if she’s acting like this now, then how would she act while she’s bouncing on my cock, on the verge of cumming, screaming as my cock slams into her cervix with each thrust?

It was so, so damn difficult to reign himself in—in fact, it felt like the only thing keeping his pent-up lust, his desire to fuck his new girlfriend relentlessly until she couldn’t even feel her legs anymore, was how insanely tight her pussy was. It was like Tiffany’s body, itself, was keeping Parker’s rampaging hormones in check, and to that, Parker was thankful.

“I bet that toy feels nothing like the real thing, huh?”

“It … it, it’s, it feels sort of familiar, but also, that thing never scrambled my brain as much as you are right now…”

Honestly, Parker should just shut his damn mouth. With every reaffirming word Tiffany spewed, Parker’s ego ballooned and it became increasingly hard to fight against the calling of his more primal side to shove the rest of his length inside her.

“God…” muttering that was all Parker could do to keep himself in check; it had now gotten to the point where Parker had to stop for a few seconds to let Tiffany adjust before continuing, and now that he could feel that he was nearing the end, that urge pushed and pushed against the cracking dam of his willpower until—“…fuck, Tiffany, I’m sorry, but—”

“—did…” Tiffany shyly cut him off, and although there was strain in her voice, Parker also heard an almost equal amount of arousal in her voice as well. “…do you just want to, um, to, just, um, sho-shove, shove the rest inside?”

“Are you sure?”

Tiffany barely had the chance to nod before Parker followed through, eliciting a sharp, louder moan from the Korean woman as her ass finally crashed down onto Parker’s lap.

“Fu-Fuck!”

“Nng, god, you’re so fucking tight, and so warm…”

For Tiffany, it was like a shockwave jolted throughout her entire body, straightening her back, her head subconsciously tilting back and pressing against her new boyfriend’s sturdy chest. In that moment, Tiffany could’ve sworn her mind flashed white, all other thoughts, all sensations vacating her brain except the fullness and the sheer heat of Parker’s cock buried to the hilt inside her.

“Tiffany…?”

“I’m … I’m … oh god, I’m going crazy…”

Even after shoving the rest of his length inside her, the fight against his lust raged on; give her ample time to get used to his size, give her pussy ample time to stretch out fully to accommodate his girth, give himself time to enjoy the hot, tight, wet cavern his cock was burrowed inside, before starting slowly. Nothing major, just griding slowly against her ass, indulging in the soft, plush texture of Tiffany’s shapely romp pressing against his groin while his cock brushed against Tiffany’s womb, shifting around, causing the fleshy, sticky walls of her pussy to shift in kind.

“Parker…”

Now that his hands were no longer needed to guide her onto his shaft, they vacated her waist, sliding under her shirt, unclipped her bra, and pulled out the undergarment from under her shirt. “We won’t be needing this anymore.”

“Oh…” Parker couldn’t tell if Tiffany’s face was red from embarrassment or from being flushed in general. “…um, yeah, I-I, I … yeah…”

As he got his hands on them, Parker’s attention shifted from Tiffany’s pussy to her boobs—despite the insane pressure her walls were exerting on his cock, feeling that squishy, silky-smooth, squeezable texture against his palm and fingers, the addictive quality of her ample breasts, the soft sighs and the way Tiffany arched her back at his touch, a silent cry for more contact, the way her body squirmed at his touch and how she let out a sharp moan at just the feeling of his fingers brushing against her areola followed by a whine as his fingers retreated, it was all too addicting.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh m—”

Tiffany was very clearly getting overwhelmed, awash in a sea of pleasure, every pore in her body screaming out in ecstasy, any hint of discomfort or pain from Parker’s oversized member having completely vanished. Just as amazing as Tiffany’s body felt against Parker’s body, so too did the fullness of his cock inside her, the heat from his cock pulsating into her, feeling his body rocking against her, everything about Parker, it felt like, was turning Tiffany on further and further. Tiffany felt like, with the practice she had done, that she was preparing herself for this experience, failing to take into consideration the rest of Parker’s body: his muscular legs that pressed against her own, his sturdy chest that she ended up leaning her head against, his powerful arms that trapped her arms against to her sides, his hands that kneaded and rolled and massaged her tits, his warm breath that brushed against her ears and warmed her face, the warmth and heat of his entire body, smothering her like a thick blanket—

“Parker, fuck…”

What’s more, Parker could sense Tiffany losing her mind, too, and it only made him want to do more: it made him want to be more aggressive with her tits, it caused him to turn the rocking motion he was doing into a more defined bucking, it made him want to continue whisper into her ear how great of a job she was doing and how amazing her pussy felt, how amazing her tits were, how he loved the way she squirmed at his touch, how divine her ass felt grinding against his groin, and the more it happened, the louder the sound of their sex became.

The two quickly fell into a rhythm, and so deep did Tiffany sink in ecstasy that, when Parker’s hand escaped from underneath her shirt, she let out a whine, followed quickly by an, “Oh—” and closing her mouth from embarrassment at the sound she just made.

Parker, not one to miss a chance to tease his girlfriend, quipped, “Don’t worry babe, I’m just taking off my shirt. It’s getting in the way.”

“Oh, ok…”

“Should I do yours, too?”

Tiffany shyly nodded, and before long, the two of them were back at it, now completely in the nude, with Tiffany sitting on Parker’s lap, who was in turn sitting on his living room couch, slowly fucking the rather inexperienced woman, hands returning to their perch on her tits and this time, being more aggressive with the light squeezes he finally granted to the swollen, erect nipples standing proudly from Tiffany’s boobs.

“Fffuck!”

“Do you like that?”

Tiffany nodded and was rewarded with another pinch. “Mmm! Park—baby, that’s, that’s, oh my god—”

Parker was getting close, but nowhere near as close as Tiffany, whose voice kept raising in pitch and volume the more he rammed his cock into the deepest parts of Tiffany. “Don’t hold back. Let it all out, baby.”

“Please, baby, I’m so close, oh god, I’m so close—” He could feel it, too, and it only pushed him further and faster and harder. “—a-ah, ah, f-f-ffuckk!”

At that point, it felt like Tiffany’s entire body was an erogenous zone. Parker really was trying his best to make Tiffany feel as good as possible, but it also felt like everything he was doing was working. The soft clapping of her ass against his damp groin, the gentle kneading of her tits in his hands, the firm thrusts of his cock against her fleshy, hot, sticky walls, and every time his fingers squeezed her pleasure button, Tiffany responded with all the positive feedback that made Parker want to do it again and again and again and again and—

“—Parker, god, I’m, I’m cum—I’m cumming, oh, fffuck!”

And just like that, Tiffany’s body straightened, vibrating violently against his body, causing his cock to stir about inside her even more and causing her orgasm to intensify even more.

“Oh god, oh my god, I can’t, I can’t, Parker, babe, please, I can’t stop, it’s too much—”

But Parker was helpless to do anything about it either. It was only the second time, but he was already addicted to it: the feeling of Tiffany completely unraveling against him, losing control, awash with sheer ecstasy. The fact that he was the cause of it, the fact that Tiffany allowed him to lose herself like this … the natural response of his body was to desire more of it. So, he was helpless to do anything but to continue fucking her with all his strength, letting her ride out her orgasm, prolonging it until—

“Tiff…”

“Mmm, hmm, hhnnng…”

It was clear that Tiffany wasn’t of the right mind to respond to him, and with how tightly her pussy was gripping his cock, it felt like pulling out wasn’t an option either. Briefly, Parker remembered Tiffany telling him that she was on the pill—and, while he knew there still was some risk to it, he also wasn’t in the right mind to make responsible decisions. All he could think about was Tiffany’s ecstasy, and his own, and the impending orgasm that was washing over his body.

“…fuck, Tiffany, baby, I’m cu—” before he could even finish his warning, the first stream entered her womb at the apex of Parker’s thrust. And Tiffany, who was beginning to wind down from her orgasm, at the sudden feeling of her now boyfriend’s warm, sticky fluid filling her up, felt everything coming straight back up. “Fuck, Tiff, I’m so sor—”

“Oh, oh god, oh my god, I’m—I’m, I can’t again, oh my GOD—” Tiffany craned her head against Parker’s shoulder, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull as a second consecutive orgasm struck her.

“…Tiff…?”

Everything about it. The was Tiffany responded to his every touch, the way her beautiful voice expressed her pleasure, the eagerness—or was it stubbornness?—with which Tiffany seemed to act, the feeling of her body against his, and now, how easily the act of creampieing her made her come to a second orgasm so quickly—everything, everything, made Parker go crazier and crazier. Even as his refractory period was starting to hit him, Parker managed to push through, forcing himself to let Tiffany ride out his orgasm on his cock until, nearly a minute later, Tiffany finally started to calm down.

There was a pretty long period of silence afterwards—silence, not awkward, but comfortable. Basking in the afterglow, Tiffany slumped against Parker’s chest, her own chest heaving, her arms hanging by her side, hands intertwined with Parker’s hands.

“…I can feel it leaking out…”

Parker let out a chuckle. “Sorry I couldn’t warn you better.”

“It’s ok.” Parker could tell by the bashful tone Tiffany’s voice was taking again that her face was red. Which was … strange, might be an understatement to describe it, considering how his cock was still firmly wedged inside her. “It’s … wow, oh my, I can’t believe how it still feels this full, and warm…”

“Let me—”

Tiffany stopped Parker as he moved to lift her off his lap. “I like it.”

To Parker’s credit, the way Tiffany said those words—bashful, hesitant, but with some firmness—that led Parker to respond, “Oh, do you?”

Tiffany whined and slapped Parker’s arm. To say that it even stung slightly would be an outrageous lie—all it succeeded in doing is making Parker laugh. “Shut up.”

“My couch…”

“Hm?” Tiffany first looked over at Parker, then down, and when she did, a look of horror befell her face. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

“No,” Parker told her, this time being the one to stop her from dismounting him, “it’s ok. It’s quite hot, actually.”

“What?”

“Give me a few more minutes. Then, I’ll be ready for round two.”

“Hm…” there was a bit of confidence, and perhaps a hint of mischief, in her voice. Something that Parker didn’t hate in the slightest. “…make that a few seconds.”

“Tiff, I don’t—” Parker swallowed his words at the feeling of Tiffany grinding against his crotch. What he was about to say was that he needed a little bit to recover, from his abundance of experience with Jessica and her relentless energy and how much she always pushed him to go again, now, right now! “…shit…”

But something about it was different about Tiffany. The shy confidence she held, the obvious inexperience in her actions but the eagerness with which she did them … it certainly didn’t hurt that it felt like Tiffany’s ass felt fuller and feeling the cushiony, velvety texture rubbing against his groin felt like heaven on earth, and of course, the insane, sheer tightness of her pussy, but he could feel his fatigue being blown away with every rotating motion.

“A few seconds, ok? I want more.”

Tiffany couldn’t get enough. That feeling, she could’ve sworn that she could feel his cock pressing up against her stomach as she bounced, ferociously, on his lap, crying out as each thrust caused Parker’s cock to strike at the entrance of her womb. The only pause happened because of a burgeoning desire to kiss Parker that eventually spilled out over her lips, and after turning around in his lap without breaking contact, Parker’s hands found their way around her waist and on her ass as her arms looped around his nape. The warmth of each other’s faces, the feeling of their lips pressed firmly against each other, dancing, as Parker’s monster relentlessly ravaged Tiffany’s pussy, each contact creating an increasingly loud slapping noise that also grew wetter, as each thrust also deposited a little bit of the creampie still left inside Tiffany onto Parker’s lap and onto the couch itself.

It was almost a shame, Tiffany’s beautiful moans being muffled, but the fact that it was his own lips that was muffling them made it excusable. The deeper and more lost in lust Tiffany became, the wilder the kiss became, until it eventually felt like they were just trying to devour each other. Animalistic, raw, pure desire for each other, the creaking of the poor sofa, the sheer amount of heat being generated from their activities that was causing beads of sweat to form along their hairlines, but they persisted still.

It wasn’t a novel feeling, really; Parker knew that he was bigger than usual, and that he actually wasn’t compatible with some women because of his size. Frankly, Parker would’ve figured that Tiffany, being the sweet, pure, innocent angel she was, might’ve been one of those women, but in that moment, he knew that he couldn’t be further from the truth. Bordering on discomfort, the intense pressure Tiffany’s pussy was exerting on his cock overwhelmed his senses. He was lost at sea, awash with the smoothness of Tiffany’s legs wrapped around his waist, the velvety soft texture of Tiffany’s lips pressed against his own, everything, everything, was just Tiffany.

As his second climax rolled around, Tiffany was nearing her fourth, so Parker expedited it by pressing on the cheat button. This time, Parker was able to give Tiffany a more heads-up warning, but Tiffany was too drunk on ecstasy to be able to say anything but, “inside! Please, babe, inside!”

So, that’s what he did, and when their climaxes faded, the two were left with the salacious mixture trickling out of Tiffany in droves, leaving a noticeable wet stain on the cushion. Of course, Parker didn’t mind in the slightest.

“You did so well, Tiff.”

“Hmm…”

Feeling how much energy Tiffany expended, Parker had half a mind to carry her, like this, back to his bedroom, as he did the first time they fucked, but his own fatigue decided against it.

“Sleep?”

Parker could feel Tiffany nod against his shoulder, so he extracted his cock from her, making a pit-stop in the bathroom to help clean her up before guiding her, who was now wobbly-legged, barely able to stand, to his bedroom.

When he tucked her in, he expected her to be out cold, so Parker was surprised when he heard Tiffany say, “I want to tell you something.”

“Oh, I thought you’d be asleep already.”

Tiffany turned towards Parker. He had ditched their clothes back in the living room, and while he could see that Tiffany was still slightly flustered by the situation, the mind-blowing sex and the aftercare afterwards seemed to have taken its toll of her embarrassment. “Can I?”

“Of course.”

“It’s about my ex.” Parker wasn’t expecting this so suddenly. In fact, Parker was content—curious, but content—with not knowing at all what happened, and presumably, what her ex did that made Jessica so protective of Tiffany. “Did Jess tell you anything about him?”

“Just that he was a terrible person.”

Tiffany pursed her lips and sighed. “I … wasn’t a virgin when we … um, before our first time.” Parker was already starting to piece things together, but he dared not interrupt her. “It was in high school. You know how it is. There’s … pressure. To do it. I felt it, but as a guy, I guess he felt it even more.” Even now, even now, Tiffany was trying to redeem him. Paint him in a better light. Just … just how much of a saint is this woman? “So, he eventually convinced me to do it. But … I guess … I wasn’t ready…? He would get more insistent every time, and I felt like I couldn’t keep just saying ‘no’, and it wasn’t like it was like torture or anything, and I did like him that way too, but I liked him more for his other traits. It’s just, I guess, he changed.

“I guess that I kept caving to him because I hated disappointing him so much. Eventually, it got a little tiring, and I felt like I couldn’t keep up with him, and we got into an argument. He told me that he had needs, and because I was his girlfriend, I was the only one who could fulfill them. In that moment, I don’t know what possessed me to say it, but I remember telling him that wasn’t the case. It was something that I caught myself thinking again and again, especially after those nights, that it would be nice to be able to enjoy it but without being the one who was … um, well, you know.”

Parker could feel how much Tiffany was tiptoeing about the topic, even more so than usual, with the normal innocence she talked with regarding the subject of sex. Now, with the added complexity of speaking about her ex-boyfriend to her current boyfriend … it can’t be easy. But, Parker could see that, with each word that came out of Tiffany’s mouth, it was like a load being lifted off her shoulders. And, as slightly uncomfortable the talk was making him, seeing that load being lifted off Tiffany’s shoulders made it all worth it.

“And, eventually, that’s how I guess I learned of this kink that I have. So, we started, I guess, ‘experimenting’ with a female friend of his. On the days I didn’t feel like it, he’d go to that female friend, and then he’d send me pictures. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that the solution felt like a band-aid over a gaping wound in our relationship. I could tell that he was happier, and that made me happier, but … I guess it was just that … he didn’t want me anymore.”

“He didn’t deserve you.”

Tiffany let out a chuckle. “Thank you, Parker. Jess told me that too.”

“Well, let this be the only time she and I agree on something. He’s a piece of shit that you were being too nice to.”

Tiffany smiled graciously at Parker. “I guess that’s partially why I turned out the way I did. Dating someone else, falling in love with someone else, terrified me. I felt like I didn’t want to lose someone the way I lost him, but I also knew that I couldn’t help but like what I liked. I knew how unfair it was, to want someone who was willing to go along with my kinks and remain absolutely loyal to me—”

“It’s not unfair, baby. To expect loyalty out of your boyfriend should be the expectation.”

Tiffany gave Parker a look for a second, then quickly closed the distance between them and buried her head in his chest. “Really?”

“Of course. If it’s what you want, as long as it’s not hurting anyone. Plus, Jessica is not someone I’d want to be with.”

“Hm?”

“She’s … way too much. Her lifestyle, her work mode, her sexual needs, everything. It’s not for me.”

“But she’s really sweet and understanding and empathetic, isn’t she?”

“…what is your play here?”

Tiffany laughed. “I’m just saying!”

“It sounds like you’re trying to sell me on Jessica.”

“I mean, she’s not that bad.”

“Don’t you dare tell her I ever said this, but yeah, she isn’t.”

“She introduced me to you, after all. So, there.”

Parker laughed, wrapping his arms around Tiffany. “You’re right. Anyone who led me to you can’t be such a terrible person.”

Welp.

… sorry for the long wait

^_^’

HOPE THE WAIT WAS WORTH IT THOUGH!! :D

#jessica jung #smut #snsd #soshi #snsd smut #kpop smut #Soiling Mr. Innocent #creamp1e #tiffany hwang #tiffany smut #tiffany #size k!nk #size difference

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 day ago

Note

Hey! I know you’ve been writing a lot of Bob and Void stuff, but do you write for Walker? I don’t k ow why, and maybe I’m a little odd for thinking this, but I would like him as my big brother figure. Prehaps I could request platonic hcs of him where he and reader act like siblings? Reader is chaotic sunshine and they get on each other’s nerves, but they do truly care for each other!! Bonus points for bits of Bob x reader x void hehe

I love Wyatt Russell (hate Walker tho) so I’ll make an exception for you anon. this might have more bob x reader x void then necessary. I think Walker would be an okay sibling at best.

Major PSA for idiots and dipshits: Also if you don’t wanna read the John and reader sibling dynamic, just skip to the Bob x reader x void section do the headcannons or don’t bother reading this, I’m not holding your hand when most of you are grown adults who are responsible for what you read. (Though I question that level of responsibility everyday the more I hear you moan about fuck all since you’ve got nothing else to do) so don’t blame me for what you consume. Grow up or continue to show your ass like you typically do.

you didn't like walker and you typically liked everyone and will always let it be known as whenever you were working on your aim, you'd intentionally aim for him much to Walker's annoyance.

'Can you stop shooting for me, for five mintues!' he exclaims as he looks at you as you only smiled innocently back at him.

'i don't know what your talking about.' you tell him 'i'm trying to shoot for you but you keep moving like an annoying cockroach that refuses to die.' you added as Yelena, who was stood next to you this entire time, tried to hold back a laugh but failed.

'i'm really feeling the love here team.' walker says sarcastically, lightly swatting your bicep in a repremending act, only to get a smack to his bicep in return.

'we love you too john!' you called after him as you looked back at Yelena as she looked at you with a knowing smile. 'what?' you asked her.

'you might not be family but you and john act like you could've been siblings in another life.' yelena says and you couldn't help but make a face. You were well aware that your relationship with US Agent was an odd one, you acted like you hated each other but the way it came across was more like siblings flipping each other off from the doorways of your own rooms.

which is something you both actually did do on the odd occasion, walking by the doorway of eachothers rooms within the Watchtower and flip each other off wordlessly, it didn't matter if you had company either, you'd still flip each other off regardless. much to the amuesment of the other Thunderbolts.

you both often get asked if you two were in fsct siblings, only for you and john to look at each other as though it was an insult as you both replied simultaneously with a ‘no.’ even if there were times where John did make sure you ate, drink and took proper care of yourself when he thought that you were neglecting yourself more then you should.

He’s even drag you out of the room if he felt that you were isolating yourself in there for his liking. I’m talking busting down your door and dragging you out by your legs as you kick and scream at him to let go, all the while he’s telling you to get out and socialise with the rest of the team instead of being a hermit/ bedroom gremlin. ‘Fuck off!’ You scream at John, ‘what if I want to stay in bed and do nothing.’

‘No can do, now go out with Yelena, Ava or Alexi and socialise and get some fresh air instead of suffocating in the stuffy air of your room for god sake.’ John replied as he shoved you towards Ava and Yelena as you shot him a look over your shoulder as you followed your favourite teammates. ‘Have fun!’ He sarcastically waves at you while you only show him your middle finger. ‘Kids.’ He mutters under his breath as Alexi pats him on the shoulder ‘you’re a good older brother.’ He tells John as the dirty blonde waves it off.

He didn’t think he was fit to be an older brother figure, but you brought that side out of him with how easily it was to annoy one another, he still remembered when you took his helmet and gun and painted them a glittery pick mess. He couldn’t complain at the time as the mission was integral, but he did indeed give you a mouthful afterwards about touching his stuff and fucking with them.

John swears you give him a headache almost on the daily but he’s certain that he does your head in too. So the feeling was mutual as far as he was aware.

Yet you do have moments where the care you had for one another comes through on missions as you two were usually paired up together and the protectiveness came out when the other was in close proximity to danger. You’d shove John out the line of fire, he would shove you behind him when he saw someone aiming for you, shielding you both when they open fired on you both.

Your care for each other was silent but it was there in the small acts you do for one another in a rare moment of reminding that while you acted like you couldn’t stand each other, you were there for one another regardless of the shit you’ve both done.

BOB X READER X VOID

Now when you met Bob, you found him to be cute, slightly clumsy and awkward but in an endearing way that made you want to know him more, his puppy dog eyes didn’t help make matters better as you as you were quick to find yourself spending more time with Bob and ultimately catching feelings for him.

He was meek and barely meet your eyes half of the time when you talked to him, but yet he seemed to stay with you in comparison to the rest of the group, always shoulder to shoulder to you and sharing smiles with you from across the room as butterflies fluttered within your stomach.

‘What’s your name.’ You asked.

‘Bob.’ Bob replies with a small smile, a cute smile you’d determine as you noted how small he tried to make himself look despite his tall and strong stature. There was more to him then you could see clearly, you could tell that this man was of great importance that you assumed that even Bob himself wasn’t aware of just yet.

‘We’ll get along just fine Bob.’ You tell him as he made a face similar to that of a confused puppy, a handsome cute man that you could already tell you’d get dangerously attached towards within embarrassingly short time. ‘How’d you know that?’ He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. ‘Call it a hunch but I just think we’ll work well together.’

‘I’ll trust your hunch then.’ Bob says with a smile and you knew immediately that you were fucked, he was even pretty when he smiled too with how his eyes shined and how his poetically radiated warmth and comfort that you wanted to bask yourself in forever.

Bob would find himself trusting himself within your presence more than others on the team, even going so far as you reach out and grab your hand in his and audible sigh at the touch, having gone without it for longer then he could remember. So needless to say you had become his primary person to look out for him, or just be there for him when the others went on missions and needed someone to be there with Bob until they get back.

You didn’t care as it meant you got to spend all the time possible with him as you made sure that when you were cooped up in the watch tower you would make sure that you and Bob were having fun however you could. Whether that be trying -and failing- to get into baking some cookies or watch tv together where characters make questionable decisions and Bob got to be highly amused by how annoyed you’d get when someone does something stupid.

Sometimes it got so bad to the point where he’d have to stop you from doing something rash as you ate half burnt cookies in a rather aggressive manner as you scowled at the television. It was a highlight for Bob as he got to be with you and experience all of you in your entirety. Only to end up finding himself falling more and more for you yet still being hesitant in calling the deep feelings he had for you as love or like.

So Bob takes his time with you and learns just as much about himself as he does learn about you in the process the longer he got to know and like every single part of you the more quality time you both shared without the rest of the Thunderbolts ruining it with their loud selves.

Void was equally intruded by you as much as Bob was and while he didn’t come out as often, he still was there within Bob as he got to go out with you on small trips together, or simply spending moments together in the watchtower.

He’s aware of all the moments shared between you and Bob and decided that he wanted that too, and to be selfish and more forward then meek, awkward Bob was about his own feelings that were now fully developed. Void understood what it was that he felt towards you and didn’t need anymore time to dissect and digest it, for whatever he wanted he would get sooner or later.

So don’t be surprised when you thought you were sharing a moment with Bob, only to be met with the pinprick eyes of Void as the entity merely chuckles at your look of surprise as he walks through your room as though he’s done it many times before.

‘Don’t look so surprise little bird.’ He tells you, his voice more confident and fuller then bob’s second guessing one, as though he wasn’t confident in using his own voice never less recognise it as if own, whereas void was fully aware of who he was and didn’t need to second guess himself when everything he did was absolute and precise.

‘You shouldn’t wear that face with me, when you look at Bob as though your moments away from grabbing him and kissing him at least.’ Void adds as you looked at him as he admired the photos you’ve took of yourself and fellow thunderbolt teammates and Bob.

Now with void you were a little more conflicted on how you felt towards the shadowy entity who could make people into shadows with a wave of his hand, a powerful being whom you’ve came across on occasions but he never did anything for you to detest him, only ever caress your cheeks and standing rather close to you for whatever talk to be considered casual.

He was bolder than Bob in what he wanted as void had kissed the back of your hand, drawn you close to him and even held you on rare occasions that you still think about at night, occupying your thoughts as you were conflicted on how to feel about void after what Bob had told you about feeling this endless darkness within him. One that only got worse when you were near him, as though it wanted to greet you personally.

Yet you couldn’t help but find Void charismatic and intriguing as the more you got to see him, which was mainly when you and Bob was alone or when everyone was asleep at night. He was dangerous and you knew that well enough to be cautious towards him but yet at the same time you couldn’t help but be drawn to Void whenever you do get to talk to him.

‘Where’s my kiss little bird? Am I not deserving of one unlike your precious Bob? Hmm?’ Void asks as he stepped close to you, his pinprick eyes looking deep into your own as your forced to admit that they were beautiful in their own right, in their own unique and unsettlingly way but beautiful nonetheless.

You would respond but you didn’t get the chance to becuase as soon as you blinked Bob was back in front of you, leaving you to process what had just happened just moments prior while Bob only looked at you in concern.

‘Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you did he?’ He’d ask as he placed his hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes for anything that could give away to him if void did anything or not.

‘No, he didn’t.’ You replied to calm his nerves as he pulls you into his arms, rubbing your back as you gripped him tight, not truly grasping what you had gotten yourself into.

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sturniololuvz · 1 day ago

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can you do a fluff fic where y/n and the triplets are best friends, but she’s the closest to chris? maybe one night she’s been broken up with in a horrible way and she’s crying and she asks the triplets if she can come over and spend the night? chris maybe relates to her the most and is extra caring and loving towards her? (i love your work sm🩷)

thank uuu

“You Can Always Come Here”

It was just after 11 when the group chat pinged.

Nick was mid-scroll on TikTok, Matt was half-asleep, and Chris was getting water in the kitchen when he heard it first — the ding that made him instinctively check his phone. One glance at the screen had him freezing.

Y/N:

“Can I come over? I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

Three dots danced at the bottom like she wanted to say more, but they disappeared.

Then came another:

Y/N:

“He broke up with me. Over text. Said I’m too much.”

Chris stared at the message for a second, heart sinking into his stomach. He didn’t wait. He was already grabbing his keys.

Nick and Matt read it too, voices low.

“I’ll make the pullout,” Matt murmured, already moving toward the guest blanket stash.

“I’ll get the snacks she likes,” Nick added.

But Chris was already out the door, hoodie half-zipped, phone clutched in his hand as he sent her a quick text:

Chris:

“I’m coming to walk you over. Wait outside, yeah?”

He found her sitting on the curb outside her apartment building, knees pulled to her chest, hoodie sleeves tugged over her hands. Her eyes were puffy. She didn’t even look up when he approached — she just felt him before she saw him. And when he dropped down next to her, she crumpled into him without hesitation.

Chris wrapped his arms around her and let her cry.

“He didn’t even call,” she choked out, voice cracking. “Just… left. Said I care too much. That I’m exhausting.”

Chris’s jaw clenched. He didn’t say what he wanted to — about how cruel that was, how wrong, how someone who actually loved her would never make her feel like a burden for being soft, for feeling deeply. Instead, he held her tighter.

“You’re not too much,” he said softly, forehead resting against hers. “He was too little.”

She let out a breath that was half a sob and half a laugh, shaking her head. “You always know what to say.”

“Only with you,” Chris murmured, helping her to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

⸻

By the time they made it to the triplets’ apartment, the couch was made up, her favorite tea was steeping, and Nick was pretending not to hover while Matt tossed her a fuzzy blanket.

“You can take the couch,” Matt offered. “Or Chris’s bed. We’ll make him sleep in the bathtub.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “She’s taking my bed. And I’m not sleeping in the bathtub.”

Y/N looked at him through red, watery eyes. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

Chris shrugged like it was the easiest answer in the world. “Next to you. If that’s okay.”

Her bottom lip wobbled again, but this time it wasn’t just heartbreak — it was gratitude.

⸻

Later that night, with the lights off and Chris’s room filled only with the sound of rain and their slow, steady breathing, she turned to him in the dark.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Chris didn’t speak at first. He just reached for her hand under the blanket, interlacing their fingers like it was muscle memory.

“You’ll never have to find out.”

She blinked up at him, barely visible in the soft light from the hallway.

“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” he whispered. “And I mean that in the realest way. You break? I break. You hurt? I hurt. There’s no version of this world where I wouldn’t want to be the person you call when everything falls apart.”

A tear slid down her cheek — but this one wasn’t heavy. It was light. Releasing something she’d been holding too long.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Chris gently wiped the tear from her face with the back of his hand.

“Sleep,” he said softly. “I’ll be right here.”

And for the first time that night, she believed it — that she was safe, that she was loved, and that no one could ever make her feel like too much again.

Because with Chris… she was exactly enough.

⸻

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt stuniolo fanfic

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gilbertscurls · 3 days ago

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fairy duty — chris sturniolo

You had only been gone for one hour.

One hour.

Your only errand was picking up a birthday gift for your cousin — quick, in and out — and you would have taken your little sister with you, except she had a very dramatic meltdown about how she “can’t go to Target again, they have too many lights and not enough Barbies.”

Chris had volunteered before you could even bribe her.

“I got her,” he said, with a shrug and a smile that should have been your warning. “I owe you for sitting through Fast & Furious 8 anyway.”

“That movie changed you,” you replied.

“It did. I’m a better person now. Let me be the hero.”

So you left him, the gallant and brave hero, in charge of your six-year-old sister — who had the energy of five espresso shots and the negotiation skills of a UN delegate. At the time, you were almost touched. He was stepping up, being mature. He even gave you a goodbye kiss on the forehead like you were the one who needed babysitting.

But now?

Now you stood frozen in the entryway of your apartment, your keys still dangling from your fingers, your mouth partially open in stunned silence.

Because what you saw left you speechless.

It's not every day that you see your boyfriend in a sparkly pink tutu, a plastic tiara tilted on his head, glitter make-up smeared over his cheeks, and — perhaps most horrifically — a pair of fairy wings strapped tightly to his back as he danced to "Barbie Girl" in the middle of your living room.

And he wasn’t alone.

Your sister stood beside him, equally glitter-bombed, flapping her wings with deadly commitment as they both sang along with heartfelt conviction.

"I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie worrrrld — life in plastic—IT’S FANTASTIC!"

They both struck a pose at the same time — jazz hands and twirls, Chris even attempting a pirouette that nearly took out a houseplant.

You didn’t even blink. Your brain refused to reboot.

Was this real life? Had someone slipped you something at the checkout line?

It was your sister who noticed you first.

"YOU’RE BACK!" she squealed with the joy of a thousand suns. "Chris is the Barbie Queen now!! He won the glitter crown fair and square!"

Chris paused mid-twirl, turned toward you, and grinned like he hadn’t just annihilated your expectations of what a boyfriend should look like while chaperoning a child. His tiara slipped slightly. He adjusted it with poise.

“Hey, babe,” he said, breathless, like a man who’d just run a marathon of magic. “Didn’t hear you come in. We were... rehearsing.”

“Rehearsing?” you echoed, still rooted to the spot.

“For the Barbie Talent Gala,” he said with mock seriousness, gesturing to your sister like she was the executive producer. “Strict entry requirements. Glitter quota. Dance skill. Wing stamina.”

“He took the Barbie Oath,” your sister chimed in. “It’s legally binding. He’s committed now.”

Chris nodded solemnly. “She’s not wrong. There was a ceremony. I cried.”

You stared. Hard. “You’re wearing lip gloss.”

“It’s called Pink Unicorn Kiss,” he said, puckering. “And it tastes like bubblegum and regret.”

You finally stepped into the living room, slowly, like approaching a wild animal.

“Chris,” you said, voice dangerously calm, “how did this escalate from ‘Hey I’ll watch your sister’ to you being crowned the Barbie Queen of the Galaxy?”

Chris scratched the back of his head, one glittery wing flapping lazily. “Honestly? One second she was showing me her dolls, the next I was in a dress doing pirouettes and being threatened with exile if I didn’t commit to the bit.”

“She takes playtime very seriously,” you muttered.

“She’s terrifying,” he agreed.

Your sister beamed. “He passed the test! He’s officially my Fairy Boyfriend.”

“Fairy Godboyfriend,” Chris corrected gently. “There’s a whole hierarchy.”

“I’m afraid to ask what you had to do to win the crown.”

“Improv monologue, interpretive dance, and... a lip-sync battle against three of her Barbies.” He lowered his voice. “I lost to Malibu Dreamhouse Barbie but came back in the freestyle round.”

You were going to need therapy. Or possibly a drink.

“Okay,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Time to de-glitter and de-Barbie. We have to be at dinner in two hours.”

Your sister let out a tragic groan, flopping dramatically onto the couch. “But Chris promised we’d do Frozen next! He said he could hit the high note in Let It Go!”

Chris blinked at you, caught. “It was a moment of weakness. She bribed me with cookies.”

“She doesn’t even have cookies.”

“She said she did.”

You exhaled and dropped your bag on the table.

“Go wash the glitter off, Chris.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, trying to saunter dramatically out of the room, wings bouncing behind him like a true theater kid. He paused at the hallway. “For the record, I do hit that Let It Go high note. Don’t ask how I know.”

And with that, your boyfriend — the once chill, seemingly unflappable Chris Sturniolo — disappeared into the bathroom wearing fairy wings, a tiara, and your sister’s admiration.

You turned back to your sister, who was now arranging her Barbies in what looked like a courtroom scene.

“You owe me one for this,” you told her.

She didn’t even look up. “Nope. He said he wants to do it again next week.”

You groaned.

And in the distance, you heard Chris start singing in a dramatic falsetto:

“Let it goooooooo, let it gooooooo—”

This was your life now.

And honestly?

You were kind of okay with it.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @shadowthesim237, @courta13, @frankdelreyy, @evansturn, @bamsblooming, @backwardshatnick

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iskinnedmyknee · 3 days ago

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This is soo true and supported so many times in the text. In cannon, everlark has numerous periods of separation followed by them coming back together. AND Katniss’s mental health almost instantly improves every time they reconnect, regardless of how bad the circumstances are at that time.

At the beginning of Catching Fire, we’re introduced to a Katniss that is struggling to reintegrate into D12 at the conclusion of her first games. She understands that she has angered the Capitol, but she doesn’t recognize the stakes until her talk with President Snow. She is so miserable in the first pages of CF, traumatized, struggling to process her grief; struggling to make sense of her feelings and all the changes. And this is before she even knows that the Districts are rebelling and her family’s existence is at risk. AND HER AND PEETA ARE NOT SPEAKING!!! Then, she receives this threat from Snow, kicks off the victory tour, and is stressed beyond belief, lashing out at Effie on the train. But Peeta follows her outside and extends an offer of pure friendship, no strings attached. And in spite of it all, in spite of the death threat hanging over her head, in spite of her situation being demonstrably WORSE than it was at the very beginning of the book, she feels some RELIEF. Because even though he doesn’t immediately know what’s going on, Peeta helps her regulate her emotions even in the most dire circumstances. I mean, she won’t tell him what’s wrong so the man asks what her favorite color is. Bringing it back to the basics, always.

Or how about her saying it feels “impossibly good” when Peeta finally offers her some emotional comfort after going full blown drill sergeant on her once the Quell was announced? Or her insane relief at Finnick reviving Peeta after the force field? Or her complete emotional collapse during the jabberjay section of the arena and her anger that Peeta didn’t immediately come to her aid before she knows that he physically can’t? Her, albeit temporary, elation when he’s rescued from the Capitol? Like at all these moments, she’s in these horrific conditions with almost no hope for escape or improvement, yet Peeta’s mere presence helps her regulate, brings her peace, and gives her hope as a consequence. No other character is doing that for her in cannon, not even Prim.

I’ve seen an alarming number of people call Peeta weak or insinuate that Katniss doesn’t love him or need him at all throughout the trilogy. The implication that she settled or he finally wore her down enough to get his way. And I’m sorry, but if you truly believe that, you either haven’t read the books with an announce of critical thought or you have willfully missed the point. Peeta is the only logical option. Katniss can muddle through just fine in her own, yes. But Peeta brings so much meaning and purpose and hope and stability to her life. Why should she want to be alone? When one of her options is literally her dandelion in the spring?

Ugh and this makes Mockingjay so hard for me to read because our poor girl is SUFFERING and deregulated and no one is helping her because NO ONE ELSE CAN HELP HER. How different would it have been for her if she had Peeta? MY HEART.

The intimacy that exists between Katniss and Peeta is so special to me. Like from day ONE on the train to the Capitol, they have this instant connection. Laughing with each other on their way to a death match. I can’t get overr themmm. They will never not be my Roman Empire.

peeta & dealing with katniss' disregulation

one thing i love about everlark is how they are such different people but peeta has a really good grasp of how to support katniss and calm her down in a way that nobody else does. i think this is more obvious and more common in catching fire, but in my reread i'm noticing it even in thg, when they don't know each other nearly as well.

katniss is really easily disregulated. a lot of this comes from the trauma of the games, of course, and the general pain and anxiety that comes with living on unstable income in the seam. but i think also she is the sort of person that feels so emotionally and physically distraught when things are outside of her comfort zone or overstimulating, and it's really hard for her to reel herself back in. peeta clocks that very fast and knows how to keep her calm and ground her.

"The only indication of the passage of time lies in the heavens, the subtle shift of the moon. So Peeta begins pointing it out to me, insisting I acknowledge its progress, and sometimes, for just a moment, I feel a flicker of hope before the agony of the night engulfs me again." (THG, pg. 397)

this stuck out to me because one of the things that helps to keep katniss from panicking is always baby steps. she does this constantly in the arena. ("I give myself a series of simple commands to follow, like "Now you have to sit up, Katniss. Now you have to drink water, Katniss." I act on the orders with slow, robotic motions." [THG, pg. 280]). she regulates herself by picking up small tasks, noticing small things, one step at a time, so as not to get overwhelmed by the whole of it. she has difficulty functioning, so she inches her way to progress by distracting herself from her overwhelm. i don't think she's constantly thinking about this while she does it, i think it's just a coping mechanism she's developed after years and years of hardship.

peeta picks this up instantly. mind you, at this point in the book, he's literally bleeding out, dying on top of the cornucopia, but trying to stay conscious and calm for katniss' sake because he knows she's on the brink of full on, hyperventilating panic. they're listening to cato's screams while he's being ripped apart by the mutts for hours and so to distract her, he gently guides her with his words, helping her to notice the moon and the way it shifts and to focus on something else. he's not babying her, but he's keeping things as simple as possible because he knows that her nervous system is such a strong, intense jumble of emotional knots right now.

it's essentially that thing you're meant to do when you are having a meltdown or a panic attack where you try to pick out things you can see, touch, smell, etc. it's a grounding exercise. that's exactly what he's doing with her, and it does help. nobody else does this for her really at any point, not even gale, who is her best friend and in some sense knows her better than anybody, or even prim. because peeta really understands her in a way that nobody else does.

#everlark #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #thg #soulmates #she is so obsessed with him it’s not even funny #but not even in an immature teenaged way #like this isn’t infatuation #this is love #stable and secure and deep love

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sqrclouds · 1 day ago

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i won’t kiss your friend, konon. ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

pairing. best friend’s brother! nishimura riki x fem reader

synopsis. unbeknownst to you, konon made riki promise to never touch you. you’ve been crushing on him for years; will he give in?

wc. 2.1k

warnings. brief makeout session, angst

pls feel free to send in requests! i write for all enhypen members <33

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

riki was never the best influence. you had to be near him, though, as he was your best friend’s brother.

you and konon have known each other since you were kids. you were seatmates in school and you both became friends immediately. she knows every little thing about you: your biggest fears, your best subject in school, your middle name. there was one thing you wouldn’t tell her about — the crush you had on her brother.

it was small and came and went. you always found him cute, and as you grew up, he became more attractive. you wouldn’t act on it, you only stole glances of him every now and then. you were shyer around him.

riki was known to have a different girl on his arm frequently. he’d talk about one girl to you and konon, then go on to a different one the next week. you knew he wasn’t good for you, so you kept your distance the best you could. you weren’t innocent, you were just inexperienced in a sense. nothing compared to riki.

konon knew this, and she made riki swear up and down that he would never touch you. he even swore to himself that you weren’t his type. maybe it was the fact that he swore to never get involved with you, but he found himself attracted to you more with every passing day.

you’re sat in konon’s room with snacks and drinks spread around while you talk about anything that comes to mind. “university has been so hard recently,” you complain. “seriously! i’ve just been so burnt out recently” konon tells you. just then, there’s a knock on her door. “come in” she calls out.

you can see a head of black hair peek behind the door before he opens it wider. riki had recently dyed his hair back to his natural color and it made you feel more entranced by him. “oh hello”, he says to you, “didn’t know you were here,” definitely something you were not supposed to be attracted by as the man barely paid attention to you.

he turned his gaze towards his sister, “do you want to order takeout or something? i’ve been craving it.” she looks to you, silently asking if you would want to. you nod and she responds, “sure. get me the menu and we’ll look”

when he leaves, your mind is clouded by him. the dangling of the earrings he was wearing, the way he was speaking, his comfortable outfit, everything. while you don’t want to give away your crush, you ask konon, “wow, he’s changed a lot, right?” she rolls her eyes and replies, “he has. i’m surprised he hasn’t brought a girl home tonight.” you giggle, but a light blush sets on your skin.

once you have the restaurant menu, you and konon pick several things to share and she texts riki the order. “i think he’s paying tonight. that is so out of character” she’s surprised. you take a mental note to thank him later, but you’re not sure if you can without becoming flustered.

when the food comes, he delivers it to your best friend’s room, grazing your hand slightly. his touch sent a warm feeling on your hand, and even when he pulled away, you could still feel it. he steals one last glance from you before leaving to eat his own food.

“that was so weird” konon calls out, noticing his peculiar actions. “he’s acting like…” she trails off. you raise an eyebrow at her, “like what?” she has to think for a moment, “like he cares about you.” those words made heat rise to the entirety of your face and you pray she didn’t see it.

the food was regular takeout, but it tasted better when you remember that riki paid for it. you were helpless with your crush and the clock was ticking until konon found out. you had to keep quiet. you had to pretend like he wasn’t most of your thoughts when you were sitting in silence.

after that night, riki’s flirtatious behavior only increased. he’d often sneak glances at you while you pretended not to notice. he’d make a point to touch you when he handed you things. he’d move you out of his way by grabbing your waist.

you try to act like everything was normal. you only speak to him when spoken to, or unless you feel like you absolutely have to. however, it felt like you needed to be around him. you could look, not touch, that’s what you told yourself.

you’re sleeping over at konon’s house, as usual, when you wake up in the middle of the night. you begin coughing from a dry throat. quietly, you get out of bed and make your way towards the kitchen. you open the fridge and grab a bottle of water before drinking it and walking back to konon’s room. you’re just about to pass riki’s room when the door opens and you immediately look up at him.

“hi,” he says smoothly. you gulp. you needed more water. “hello” you greet as best as you can. he gestures towards your water bottle, “i was just going down there for that” he meets your eyes again. you regrettably ask “would you like some?” as you hold out the water bottle to him. he doesn’t say anything, he just takes it and drinks from it too.

you try not to think about the fact that you indirectly kissed. he hands the bottle back to you, “see you in the morning, angel.” you almost choke. you only wave before going back to bed. there is no way that just happened.

your mind is silenced by sleep overtaking you once you lie in bed. you look at konon and you feel terrible. how could you do this to her?

the next morning you’re laughing with your friend as you make breakfast together. riki comes out of his room, humming to himself once he sees you. you continue talking to konon as you make food for all three of you.

riki so graciously sets the table before you set down the breakfast you made: egg dashi and various side dishes. you turn to use the bathroom before breakfast, and riki follows. he corners you between the restroom and his room. “you’ve been acting differently” he says, his voice a little husky. you decide to play innocent. “i haven’t” you shake your head.

“i’m not stupid, i know you like me” he says darkly, almost teasingly. you want to speak up, but you know your voice will come out in a squeak. he gives you a small peck on the lips before leaving you to go back to the kitchen. you stand there stunned.

you see him around university sometimes. often, he’ll be in the same lecture hall as you, or coming as you are leaving. this time, you’re leaving your last class of the day when he stops you by grabbing your wrist. “hey, angel” he whispers. you can only stand there in silence as you watch the rest of your classmates file out of the hall. you’re quite embarrassed that anyone could’ve heard him.

“what’s wrong with you? i’m not one of your girls and you know that, riki” you say, raising your voice ever so slightly. “not one of my girls, but my girl” he bites his lip. you want him… no, you need him. you lean up to crash your lips onto his. he wanted you and he’ll have you.

he gasps quietly at your boost of confidence but quickly goes back to his confident demeanor. the kiss isn’t gentle; it’s rough with desire and the latest weeks of pent up frustration. he’s meticulous with the kiss, biting your lip to ask for permission to explore your mouth.

you part your lips slightly, moving your fingers to thread through his dark hair and pull at the strands there. he can’t help but groan at the feeling as he moves his hands to your waist, gripping it harshly. you moan as his lips and tongue move against yours. the kiss is somewhat sloppy but the feeling has you desperate.

he pulls away after nipping your bottom lip. your hands are still in his hair as you pant from the lack of oxygen. “you’re a good kisser. lets me take control” he smirks. you roll your eyes, “your girl?”

“you’ve always been my girl. just didn’t know it yet” he says, still smirking. “what about all of those other girls? the ones you were always with?” you ask genuinely. “was trying to make you jealous, baby. it never worked so i stopped” he honestly answers, although it sounds daft now that he says it aloud.

there’s only one thing running through your mind now: you have to tell konon. you bite your lip before speaking again, “i have another class to go to, but i’ll see you later?” he nods, “see you” and he leaves.

you rush to konon’s house. the guilt is eating you alive and you only kissed him five minutes ago. once you reach her house, you knock on the door frantically. she opens it in a rush, “oh my god, are you alright?” she ushers you in, closing the door and locking it.

“no. konon, i did something terrible!” you want to scream, but she holds your face and caresses the skin there. “hey… no… what happened? you can tell me, okay?” you burst and say quickly, “i kissed your brother! i’m so sorry, i just-“ she removes her hands from your face. “no, no, konon, please just-!” your eyes fill with tears.

she shushes you, “it’s okay… don’t be upset. i’m not upset.” you let out a breath, but there was something in your head that she was definitely upset about something.

to make you feel better, she tells you to relax in the shower. you oblige, knowing that would calm you down in this moment. you just hope she’s not angry at you. after your shower, you put on some of her clothes that she left for you to wear. you go out to talk to her.

“you kissed her? are you serious, riki?” you hear her screaming and a pit forms in your stomach. “it was a mistake, alright? i shouldn’t have done it!” you hear riki’s voice echo off the living room walls. you can only freeze in place. a mistake? it would’ve hurt less if you didn’t like him as much as you did.

after a few more curses thrown around, konon looks past riki to see you behind him. she gently escorts you to her room while tears pool in your eyes. she speaks to you softly once you’re sat on her bed, “i’m not upset with you, okay? i’m upset with him. he swore not to do that. and i know for sure you weren’t the mistake. he feels guilty for kissing you,” the tears begin flowing and you cry into her chest.

you were at least glad she clarified the “mistake” part. you just didn’t know how to feel about her telling riki not to kiss you. deep down, you knew it was because of his reputation, but you didn’t want to admit that.

after what feels like hours of crying in her chest, there’s a knock at the door. you both know it’s riki, and you don’t say anything as he opens it. “can we talk, alone?” he asks, his question directed to the both of you. you nod, and konon stands to leave while riki kneels in front of you. “i’m so sorry,” he begins, “a while ago i promised her i would never touch you. i liked you too much and my desires got the best of me.” you sniffle and he continues, “you don’t have to forgive me, but i care for you a lot. i want you and only you.” he reaches to wipe the tears off your face. your eyes meet his for the first time that night and you can tell he’s sincere, but you need time.

both konon and riki allow you that time and space. you haven’t talked to either of them in days and it feels like it’s killing you inside. they smile at you on campus, they wave, and you feel terrible for not doing it back. you know they’re both sorry, so you finally decide to stop ignoring them.

you knock on the door and riki is there to answer it. he looks at you, not knowing what words will pour from your lips. “i forgive you, both of you” you tell him, afraid to show any emotion. he smiles and reaches his hand out for you, and you take it. a smile reaches your lips too as he pulls you inside.

#li’s riki ♡#to. riki ♡#enhypen imagines #niki imagines #riki imagines #enhypen angst #niki angst #enhypen x reader #niki x reader #enhypen fluff #niki fluff

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hollowmem · 2 days ago

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Ooo thank you! What about if Johnny and Reader has to babysit, sprung on them out of nowhere. Maybe Captain’s toddler or baby? They’re frazzled but pull through just peachy. 😍 There are some hilarious mishaps though feat. precocious child thoughts that got them thinking of having a bairn of their own. Reader teases that Johnny needs to give her a ring first.

Week of leave

AFAB !Reader x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You and Johnny were all set to head off for a proper week of leave — no drills, no alarms, no MREs. Just the two of you, a rental car, and plans to do absolutely nothing productive.

You were finishing up paperwork in the common room when Captain Price walked in, his little girl balanced on one hip, holding a worn elephant plush by the ear. She was looking around with sleepy curiosity, thumb in her mouth.

“Hey, Cap,” you greeted, raising an eyebrow.

“Got a favor to ask,” Price said and came straight up to you. His voice dropped to the kind of tone he usually reserved for classified ops. “I wouldn’t ask if I had any other option — but my sitter bailed, and I’ve got to be on a flight in two hours.”

You glanced between him and the toddler, already half-suspecting where this was going.

“She’s comfortable with you,” he said. “And you’ve got good instincts. More mature than most on base.”

There was a pause. Then, like an afterthought, he added, “MacTavish’ll be with you, right?”

Johnny, who had just walked in with a bag of chips and a look of betrayal, sputtered. “You sayin’ I’m not mature?”

Price gave him a flat look. “You once duct-taped a GoPro to a pigeon, Johnny.”

“That was science, mate.”

You bit back a laugh and looked down at the little girl, who was now trying to poke her tiny fingers into Johnny’s tactical boot.

“She’s good,” Price said softly. “Sweet. Just needs someone to keep her safe for a couple days while I’m out.”

You exhaled. “Yeah. We can do it.”

The next few days were a delightful disaster.

You’d been tackled at 6 a.m. by a giggling blur in dinosaur pajamas. Johnny had discovered that she would cry every time he stopped reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar — so he’d read it seven times in one morning. The living room was a graveyard of half-chewed snacks, scattered crayons, and one suspiciously sticky throw pillow.

At night, after she finally passed out in her makeshift cot, you and Johnny would collapse on the couch, exhausted but kind of glowing.

One evening, Johnny watched her sleep, arms tucked under her chin, that elephant plush beside her.

“She’s a handful,” he said quietly. “But she’s… I dunno. Makes things feel real.”

You looked over, heart thudding.

“She called me ‘MacFish’ again today,” he added after a beat.

“She likes you,” you said, smiling. “She trusts you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I get why Price picked you, know. You’ve got this… steadiness about you. Like you already know what you’re doing.”

You tilted your head. “And what about you?”

He shrugged, then glanced at you. “I think I’d figure it out — if you were figuring it out with me.”

You smiled at that, but something in his voice made your stomach flip. It wasn’t a joke. Not this time.

You both fell quiet, watching the rise and fall of the toddler’s breathing, the peace of it — the weird, warm glow of the moment. For the first time, it wasn’t just funny or chaotic or sweet.

It felt... possible.

“You ever think about it?” he asked softly.

You blinked. “About what?”

“Having one. A kid.” He cleared his throat. “A family. With me.”

Your heart stuttered. He wasn’t looking at you, but you could tell he meant it — not some flippant joke or playful nudge. He was serious. Nervous, even.

“Yeah,” you said after a moment. “I do.”

He turned to look at you then — really looked — and you saw it: the hope. The longing. The love.

You reached over and took his hand. “But if we’re doing the whole family thing,” you teased gently, “you better start thinking about rings.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that, too.”

Outside, the world was quiet. Inside, between the two of you, something new had quietly taken root — a future that felt more real than ever.

#call of duty #cod #y/n #creative writing #tf 141 #reader insert #captain price #soap mactavish #cod soap #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader

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yh-hjabs · 3 days ago

Text

The Ninja decide instead of slacking off after defeating the crystal king, harumi and their crystal council, they would go find an adventure to do.

Their journey is long, but enjoyable for the most part. The ninja bicker all the time, and there’s never any time where someone isn’t shouting at the another.

It’s rather calming actually. No one to fight, but instead bonding and getting closer with eachother.

At least it seems that way.

Or: The ninja have nothing to do after the overlord was defeated again, and decide to take an adventure.

—

The Ninja decide instead of slacking off after defeating the crystal king, harumi and their crystal council, they would go find an adventure to do.

The Ninja are just now finishing packing stuff for the journey.

Read on Ao3: Slacking off was so last season.

Chapter 1: Tell me “don’t”, so I can crawl back in. / Photos and laughs.

Nya, the water ninja, places a bag onto the floor near a vehicle. “So we’re going on a long trip. Who’s in charge of the music?”

“ME!!” The hothead fire ninja, Kai, yells out.

“No Kai your music is just your own covers. How about mine!?” Jay, the lightning ninja, peeks over from inside the vehicle.

“we aren’t listening to pink fluffy unicorn for a 50 hour journey.” Cole, the Earth ninja, mumbles. In hopes that Jay did not hear that.

The prophesied green ninja, Lloyd arrives from the lift with Zane, The Ice Nindroid. “What’s happening?”

“We can’t decide who’s playlist to listen to on our journey.” Nya Answers Lloyds question.

Everyone goes silent as they think. Until one voice speaks out.

“I will combine the playlists into one big playlist, and shuffle them. And if someone wants to skip, we vote. 4 or more votes and we skip the song.” Zane suggested.

The others nod their head or say something along the lines of ‘great idea!’ Or ‘that works.’

“Is everyone ready?” Someone calls out. It’s unsure who with Kai and Cole chatting loudly and laughing. “Oh! Wait I need to grab something.” The blue ninja rushes off quickly.

Lloyd helps Nya bring bags inside the vehicle, whilst Cole puts stuff in the portable fridge and coolers. Kai sits down and gets comfy.

Zane places a a photo of him and P.I.X.A.L. next to his power source his heart. And he smiles.

After Jay came back and everyone said goodbye to Master Wu and P.I.X.A.L.. they took off. Their trip was just to explore, with nobody to fight, instead of being lazy and reckless, they decided to “go out and find a quest” as master Wu had once said.

Zane connected the speakers to the vehicle and played the merged playlist.

Nya was driving, Jay next to her side, and of course. Kai and Cole being themselves.

Kai immediately bursts out into “song”, as the song playing was on his playlist.

“AHAH! I’M ZANES FAVOURITE MY PLAYLIST IS FIRST SUCKERS!”

“Uh actually, he merged and shuffled the playlists. It’s just convenient this was f-“ Cole stuck his finger up and pretend to put on glasses before getting interrupted.

“YOUR JUST JEALOUS!”

The speakers music goes quieter as a message is overridden by the microphone.“I would like to remind you all that I do not have a favourite ninja.” Zane says.

“Not even P.I.X.A.L.?” Jay asks. Putting his travel pillow around his neck and opening a photo album that he collected of their journeys.

“Hah, she does not count, she is my companion, and she is not a ninja, she is a samurai, an awesome one as well..” He responds with.

“Hey Zane, we can hear your lovestruck-ness for P.I.X.A.L. Still, turn off the microphone.” Cole laughs.

“My apologises.” He switches off the microphone. “What are you looking at Jay?”

“Oh, I made a photo album from when I started being a ninja! And I’m just going over them now- oh this fell o…” Jay picks up a photo. Zane and him immediately smile and “Awh” out loud.

“That is most adorable.” Zane grabs the photo. Showing Nya. Nya smiles and laughs. “Ah, Lloyd! Come over here!!”

Lloyd is heard running through the vehicle halls. Rushing over, his mouth full off pillow mints. “What is it?” He looks at the photo, and his face goes red with embarrassment…

“That-.. LITTLE PUNK!?”

Jay laughs. “That’s what you were! A little punk! We hated your guts.”

“Well I wanted to be like my dad.”

“How did that turn out?”

“Shut it.”

“Guys it’s not even been an hour” Nya chimes in.

Zane places the photo back into the photo album. “Perhaps we could call the other two and go through the album together?”

“Great idea. KAI! COLE! COME HERE!” The water ninja shouts. Cole and Kai walk over.

“What’s up sis?”

“Oh thank FSM. I cannot handle Kai singing in my ears for much longer.”

Kai nudged him.

“Come go through the photo album with Zane, Jay, And Lloyd!”

“HUH WHAT!? I WANNA SEE!!”

Everyone begins to laugh as Kai, Cole and Lloyd sit around Jay, who turned his chair the other way. Nya would look over if someone were to show her a photo, and Zane stayed standing.

They smiled and laughed through the photos.

“Ohh thats messed up Jay you took a photo of this!?” Cole looked to Jay, Zane’s eye’s widened at the photo.

The photo was of Zane in his pink apron, though food was on it. Zane’s face was blank and rather sad, whilst the others in frame were laughing and having fun.

“Whoops.. I’m sorry zane.” He apologises. Turning the page.

“It is alright Jay. I forgive you.”

One of the photos was Kai on his day off, aka. No hair gel day. He looked strange to say the least.

Most were happy and funny.

There were a few that gave bad memories.

But it felt nice to go through the photos. To see how far they have come.

It was sweet, occasionally Kai would sing, nya would hum songs, Cole would join anyone in karaoke, Zane and Lloyd just smiled at the others, complementing them. And Jay was far too focused on the memories to care.

“OH MY FIRST SPINJITZU MASTER. WE SHOULD PLAY UNO AND OTHER BORED GAMES!!”

“Perhaps later Kai, we are going through photos, however we are nearly done so…” Zane sighs. “I’ll go get the games!”

Kai smiled and shouts “YES!” As Jay cracks his knuckles to prepare. Nya puts the vehicle into auto pilot after a while and stretches. Cole picks out a photo and sticks it on Kai’s face, and laughs. It was a photo of pythor.

“Oh. Nice Cole. Nice.” Lloyd death stared him.

“I’m going to put pyjamas on, does anyone else want theirs?” Nya asks, walking off.

Everyone said no. So Nya didn’t bother, she put her hair up and put her pyjamas on.

Zane grabbed a box of bored games and they both walked together back to the others. He’d come to realise they had finished the album.

And so he sighed once again, almost in fear because this was going to be a long.

And loud.

Few hours..

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aryadelvich · 2 days ago

Note

Hi. I have a request. How would Luigi be like dating a plus size Latina who is a few years older than him? (I’m 32, lol) and he introduces you to his family and they love you?

You got me nervous - Luigi Mangione x Reader

Note : I hold a lot of love for chubby girlfriends fic !!! Here it is !!!

It all started out normally. He was just a colleague—nothing more. You both had your own roles, quite different ones, though you crossed paths from time to time. Luigi stood out. He’s one of those young tech prodigies—brilliant, driven, with a future already carved out for him. And honestly, good for him. He earned it.

You’ve noticed that more and more young people are joining the company lately, and it feels like a breath of fresh air. They’re relaxed, less weighed down by pressure, and they understand how to keep their work and personal lives separate— something you truly admire. You love that energy. Still, you never quite feel like part of their group. Not because you’re that much older— five, maybe ten years at most—but there’s a line you don’t dare cross. You call them the “young ones,” even though the age gap is barely significant.

With Luigi, it’s exactly seven years. You don’t even know why you paid enough attention to figure that out. Sure, he’s charming— there’s no denying it— but someone like him would never be interested in you. He’s surrounded by women his age, women full of energy and dreams, ready to explore the world. Why would he choose you, when he could have someone who fits that version of life more naturally?

You hate that your mind even goes there. You're 33— the prime of your life. You’ve got emotional maturity, stability, and the ability to handle challenges with clarity. Things are supposed to make sense now. So why do you find yourself thinking about him? Why does he linger in your mind longer than he should?

The truth is, he’s different. Most younger men you’ve met strike you as immature, unstable, or too self-centered. But Luigi isn’t like that. He could get anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers, but he doesn’t act like it. He treats everyone with kindness. He doesn’t look down on anyone, never takes advantage of others. He stands up for people without hesitation, speaks up when something’s wrong. That alone sets him apart.

And yes—he’s handsome. Frustratingly so. But again, why would he ever look your way? You’ve deliberately avoided looking him up online—it felt too juvenile, like something a teenager would do. What would you even be hoping to find? Something to feed your fascination, or something that might finally shatter the illusion?

You let out a quiet sigh and glance around the room. He’s chatting with one of his colleagues— all smiles. She’s laughing too, leaning in just a little too close. A flicker of jealousy sneaks up on you. You crush it instantly.

What was that? Seriously? Get it together.

Then, almost like he sensed it, Luigi turns his head. His eyes find yours and hold them, unwavering. Your heart stutters, but you don’t look away, not out of confidence, but pride. You’re dying to break the gaze, but you won’t give him that satisfaction. Luigi? Rattle you? Please. You’re too old for that. Still… those hazel eyes really are something. Then, to your horror, he starts walking toward you. You feel your pulse spike. He stops right in front of you.

“Hey,” he says, casual. “You coming to the party tonight?”

“Mmh… no. I already made plans with someone,” you reply coolly.

“Oh… okay. Who’s someone?” He raises a brow. “Just curious, no pressure.”

“With a friend and my sister. We’re catching a movie.”

“A friend?” he repeats, tilting his head slightly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You narrow your eyes. “Luigi, I think you’re asking a few too many questions.”

He blinks, taken back. “Sorry. Really. That was out of line… But if you change your mind and want to come to the party, you’ll be well received, you and your sister and your friend too.”

And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you a little stunned. That was weird. One of the few things you know about him—not that you looked it up on purpose—is that he’s single. Totally unattached. And yet, you have no idea why that particular fact keeps floating around in your head.

•••

You’re sitting with your sister and your longtime friend. It’s been barely thirty minutes since the movie started, and all three of you are already fighting to stay awake.

“This movie is so boring. I should’ve just stayed home,” your sister whispers, slumping in her seat.

“I should’ve gone to Luigi’s party,” you mumble, mostly to yourself.

She immediately perks up. “Wait, what party? There’s a party and you didn’t tell me?”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you say with a shrug.

“Yes, it is! Come on, let’s go.”

Before you can say anything, she’s already standing. Your friend doesn’t hesitate either, clearly just as underwhelmed by the film. You all head out of the theater. It’s rare for you to walk out on a movie, but this one just didn’t deserve your attention.

“What if we actually went to that party?” your sister suggests as you reach the parking lot. “Don’t worry. We’ll bring snacks and drinks so no one complains that we weren’t invited.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh. “Luigi told me I could bring you guys.”

“Oh! Well then what are we waiting for?” your friend grins.

You hop in the car and set the GPS for the address Luigi gave you. Your heart beats just a little faster as the engine starts.

It’s just a party. He probably won’t even notice you’re there.

You step into the house and immediately realize you underestimated the size of the crowd. The place is packed, buzzing with music, laughter, and the soft hum of overlapping conversations. You scan the room and spot Luigi on the couch, surrounded by a small group. He’s mid-story, animated and charismatic—whatever he’s saying has everyone’s full attention.

Before you can linger too long watching him, your sister grabs your wrist and tugs you toward the buffet. That’s when Luigi notices you. His expression shifts. Surprised. Then pleased. He excuses himself and makes his way toward you, weaving through the crowd without hesitation.

“You actually came?” he says, smiling like he doesn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah,” you reply, returning his smile. “The movie was terrible. We bailed halfway.”

“Ouch. Sorry for the bad pick, but... glad it brought you here.”

Your sister swoops in with impeccable timing, holding a plate stacked with finger food.

“Luigi, meet my little sister and that’s our friend,” you say, gesturing casually.

“Nice to meet you both. I’m Luigi,” he says warmly, then looks at your sister. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Mmh,” your sister replies, looking him over. “My sister was right, you’re really handsome.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “I never said that!”

“I’m kidding,” she laughs, clearly enjoying herself. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two to it.” She winks, grabs your friend by the arm, and strolls off with a mouthful of appetizers.

Luigi turns back to you, raising a brow with a crooked grin. “So… that wasn’t true?”

You roll your eyes, but your voice softens. “No, it was. You are very handsome. I just never said it to anyone.”

His cheeks tint with a blush. He scratches the back of his neck, looking momentarily shy—a rare sight for someone usually so self-assured.

“Wanna meet my friends?” he asks after a beat, his voice hopeful.

You nod. “Okay”

Luigi leads you through the crowd and into a cozier corner of the living room where a few people are sitting on low couches, drinks in hand, deep in conversation. The lighting is softer here, warmer, and the music is less invasive.

“Luigi! Finally. We were starting to think you ditched us for a solo act.”

Luigi rolls his eyes with a smirk. “You wish.” Then he turns toward you. “Everyone, this is Y/n.”

There’s a chorus of friendly hellos and head nods. You return the greetings with a polite smile and settle beside Luigi on the edge of a wide couch. His thigh brushes against yours—barely, but deliberately. He doesn’t move away, and neither do you.

“You’re the girl from work?” one of his friends asks. “The law student?”

You nod. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

The group laughs lightly.

Luigi adds, “She’s being modest. She’s sharp. Probably the smartest person here.”

“Careful, man,” another friend teases. “You’re sounding impressed.”

“I am,” Luigi says simply, with zero hesitation.

That earns a few raised brows. You try not to show how warm your cheeks suddenly feel. Then one of them—his best friend, from how easily he talks—leans back and whispers to Luigi with a smirk, “Honestly, I’m shocked. I thought your type was more... I don’t know. Tall, super skinny, blonde hair… well not her.”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Luigi out of the corner of your eye, curious to see his reaction. But he doesn't laugh. Instead, he turns toward his friend, his voice calm but firm.

“You clearly don’t know me.”

He doesn’t say more, but he doesn’t have to. His gaze lingers on you a little longer than necessary—steady, deliberate—before he reaches casually for his drink, like the conversation never rattled him. You feel your heart beat a little faster.

One of the girls in the group chuckles “Hey what are you guys talking about ?”

Luigi shrugs. “Nothing.”

His friend lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. My bad.”

You glance at Luigi, and he meets your eyes again, the corner of his mouth lifting in a subtle smile just for you.

Once your sister and your longtime friend joined in, you felt more comfortable. The group dynamic softened. Everyone laughed, joked around, and to your surprise, all of Luigi’s friends were actually really cool—funny, open, easy to talk to. No pretentious tech-bro energy in sight.

At some point, the conversation spiraled into a passionate debate, Luigi leaned in closer to you.

“Wanna escape this philosophical chaos?” he asked with a half-smile. He tilted his head toward the hallway. “I promise a quieter stage.”

You smiled and nodded.

A few moments later, you found yourself climbing the narrow stairs to the rooftop. It was quieter up there, the buzz of the party fading into the background. The night air was crisp, the sky clear, and to your surprise, Luigi pulled a small folded blanket from under his arm.

“Are you cold?” he asked, already unfolding it. “I figured it might be chilly up here.”

“I’m good for now,” you replied, touched. “But thanks. That’s… really thoughtful.”

There it was again—that smile of his. The one that looked like even he wasn’t sure what it was doing on his face.

“I don’t know why I brought it,” he said with a little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just felt like… I don’t know, maybe you’d want it.”

You looked away, trying to hide your smile. “You’re so weird.”

“Statistically true,” he said, grinning.

You laughed, your shoulders relaxing as you both settled down, side by side on the edge of the rooftop, the blanket between you like a secret waiting to be shared.

"There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you."

"Go ahead."

"I… I really like you. I mean, I think you're such a beautiful person, and I genuinely want to—“

"Luigi…"

He takes a breath, eyes locked on yours.

"I want to be with you. I want to get to know you, be part of your life, be there for you. I’ve wanted to say this for a long time, and I think… now is the right moment."

You hesitate, your heart racing.

"Luigi, I’m too old for you. I think… I think you should be with someone your age. I’m not—"

"Why? Why not you?"he cuts in gently. "I don’t care about other girls. You are the one I want."

You look down, then gesture at your body, self-conscious.

"I mean… look at me. Is this really the person you want to be seen with?"

"Yes. I don’t see any problem. You’re gorgeous." He says it without hesitation. "And I don’t care what people say. I’m not doing this for them."

You shake your head slowly.

"It’d be easier for you to date someone your own age…"

But he steps closer, voice softer now.

"Y/n, when you walk into a room, I forget how to speak. I’ve been terrified you’d never take someone like me seriously. That I’d seem too boyish, too immature for you. But I can’t pretend anymore. I like you. A lot. And I’m not asking for marriage. I’m just asking for one chance."

You sight, clearly caught off guard.

“And you’re smart. And intimidating in a weirdly hot way. And funny..”

You fall silent for a moment, your mind racing while your heart tries to catch up. Luigi stands in front of you, his eyes searching your face, reading every flicker of hesitation, every breath you take.

"This is insane," you murmur, almost to yourself.

He steps slightly closer, his voice softer now.

"If you don’t want me, just be honest. But please don’t push me away just because of my age. I’m not a kid—I know what I want."

You swallow, eyes meeting his.

"That’s not it… It’s not. Okay."

His brows shoot up, stunned.

"Wait. Seriously?"

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"Yes. But just one chance."

He lets out a half-laugh, half-gasp.

"Oh my god—yes! Can I kiss you?"

You raise an eyebrow, caught between amusement and disbelief.

"You want to kiss me?"

He nods. And then he doesn't wait for another word—he steps closer and leans in slowly but surely, giving you just enough time to pull away if you want to. But you don’t.

His lips meet yours, warm and eager but gentle. He kisses you like he’s been waiting for this forever, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste, how you move, how your breath catches just slightly in your throat. His hands hover at your waist, respectful, careful, but craving to hold you closer.

And for a moment, there’s no age, no fear, no hesitation—just you and him, alone under the quiet sky, kissing like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

The rooftop air is cooler now, but the warmth of the kiss lingers between you. You part slowly, your eyes still closed for a heartbeat longer than his, trying to hold onto that perfect pause in time. When you finally open them, Luigi is looking at you with something close to awe, like he can’t believe this just happened. You both laugh softly, a little breathless.

“We should probably go back down before your friends start imagining dramatic scenarios,” you tease.

“I don’t want to…”

You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder playfully as you both head back toward the stairs.

When you reenter the party, the energy hits you again—music, chatter, the smell of snacks and something vaguely burnt from the kitchen. The living room is still buzzing with conversations and laughter. No one seems to notice your return at first, but then one of Luigi’s friends glances up.

“Ouh the lovers.”

Another one whistles. “You owe me twenty bucks, man. I said they’d be gone for a kiss-length amount of time.”

Luigi groans, half-embarrassed, half-proud.

“Y’all gossip worse than my Nonna.”

Your sister spots you, grinning like she knows exactly what just happened. She wiggles her eyebrows. You shoot her a warning glance, but it’s no use. She’s already making her way toward you.

“Have fun on the roof?” she asks with a tone so innocent it’s clearly fake.

You shrug with a smirk.

“It was normal.”

Luigi looks at you, eyes gleaming.

“You call that normal?”

She gasps dramatically.

“Oh my God, I knew it.”

The night moves on, full of teasing and music, but every time your eyes meet Luigi’s across the room, the buzz of the party seems to fade for a second. He doesn’t crowd you. He doesn’t rush. But the way he looks at you—like you’re the only one he sees—makes you wonder how you didn’t notice his aversion for you.

It’s been a month since you and Luigi started dating, and he never stops surprising you. He’s attentive, thoughtful, always in tune with your needs—more than you ever expected. He treats you with a kind of care that feels rare.

You haven’t spent the night together yet. One night, it almost happened—but you stopped everything. You told him you wanted to take your time, and he understood immediately. No pressure, no frustration. Just a soft kiss on your forehead and a whispered “Whenever you’re ready.”

Not long after that, he asked if you’d like to meet his parents. You said yes without hesitation. You didn’t see any reason to worry. And now, here you are. The day has come.

You’re both standing outside the front door of his childhood home. Normally, you’d be a bundle of nerves, pacing and overthinking—but something about Luigi’s presence keeps you grounded. He’s so kind, so steady, that it would honestly be strange if his parents weren’t just as wonderful. After all, they helped shape the man he is.

“They’re going to love you,” he says with that easy confidence of his, squeezing your hand gently.

You smile back, reassuring him even though it should be the other way around. He opens the door, and the warm scent of tomato sauce, garlic, and fresh bread fills the air instantly.

“Mamma! Papà! We’re here!” he calls into the house.

A woman with long dark hair and a glowing smile emerges from the kitchen, followed by an older man—tall, with white hair and kind eyes. Luigi clearly gets most of his features from his mom, but there’s something in the way his dad moves, or maybe in the way he looks at you, that echoes in Luigi too.

“Hey!” his mother exclaims with open arms.

She walks straight toward you and pulls you into a warm, motherly hug. “Benvenuta, cara!” she says, kissing both your cheeks enthusiastically. “You’re even more beautiful than Luigi said!”

You laugh politely, a bit flustered. “Thank you, Mrs. Mangione.”

Luigi’s father steps in with a gentle handshake. “Welcome. I’m Luigi’s father. And if my wife cooks too much tonight, I apologize in advance.”

“She’s Latina,” Luigi says with a proud smile, “She’s used to food being love.”

“Oh, then you’ll fit right in!” His mom beams. “We cook when we’re happy, we eat when we cry, and if we’re mad, we bake.”

Dinner is served a few minutes later: fresh pasta, eggplant parmigiana, focaccia, and homemade cannoli. Rosa insists you take seconds—then thirds. “You eat like a little bird! You need strength, especially if you’re dating my son,” she jokes.

As everyone laughs and eats, Rosa suddenly asks, “So, querida, do you like polenta?”

You blink. In your family, polenta means something… different. Your eyes widen slightly and you try not to choke on your water.

“Um… well…” you glance at Luigi, unsure.

“What?” His mom asks innocently. “We have it every New Year! Polenta with sausages, it's delicious.”

Luigi coughs to cover his laugh. “Wait—what does polenta mean in Spanish again?”

You murmur the slang meaning under your breath, cheeks burning.

Rosa gasps, then bursts out laughing. “Madonna mia! No no, our polenta is very innocent, I promise!”

Carlo chuckles. “We Italians and you Latinos—we speak the same language but still need subtitles sometimes.”

You all laugh until your sides hurt. The moment breaks the last bit of tension, and you suddenly feel like part of the family.

Luigi leans toward you with a smirk. “Told you they’d love you.”

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “But next time, warn me before they offer me polenta.”

By the end of the dinner, the tension you didn’t even know you had is completely gone. They seem to genuinely like you, and when you stand to leave, his mother pulls you into a warm hug and whispers, “You’re always welcome here.”

Luigi catches your eye and gives your hand a gentle squeeze. On the ride home, he doesn’t stop smiling—and neither do you. You leave the car and walk to your apartment with Luigi following you, making sure that you’re at home safe.

You unlock your door, then pause, turning to him with a small smile. “You want to come in for a bit?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised but pleased. “Are you sure?”

You nod.

He steps in without hesitation. The apartment smells faintly of vanilla and something citrusy. It’s cozy—books stacked unevenly on a shelf, a few framed photos, a soft throw on the couch. Luigi looks around, absorbing it all. You close the door behind him, toeing off your shoes. You head to the kitchen, speaking over your shoulder. “Make yourself at home.”

As the kettle starts to boil, he stands, walking over to your window. The city lights glow faintly in the distance. When you return with two mugs of tea, he’s still looking out. You hand him the mug.

He takes it, then nudges your arm. “They didn’t just love you. They’re already talking about holidays and family meals. You’ve been fully adopted.”

You both laugh.

When he finishes his tea—and you yours—he leans in and kisses you tenderly, slow and warm. You pull back slightly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“How about we go to my room?”

His eyes widen, blinking once in surprise, as if he isn’t sure he heard you right.

“For real?”

You simply smile, take his hand, and guide him gently down the hallway. In your room, the light is soft, the air a little charged. You begin with kisses—slow, lingering—and soon, the world outside fades away. You end up on the bed, tangled together, lips brushing against each other’s skin between soft laughs and shared breaths.

You slip your hands under his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. He helps you out of your dress with the same care, never rushing, his eyes locked with yours, asking silently if this is okay.

His fingers trail gently down your arms as your dress slips off, pooling at your feet. You hesitate, just for a second, instinctively folding your arms across your stomach—but he notices.

“Hey,” he says softly, brushing a hand along your cheek, “don’t hide from me.”

You meet his eyes, and they’re filled with so much warmth it makes your throat tighten.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, like it’s the simplest truth in the world.

Your breath catches, and something in you unclenches. He kisses your shoulders, then lower, slow and reverent. His hands don’t fumble—they linger, exploring the softness of your waist, the curve of your hips, the parts of you you once wished away. But with him, every touch feels like praise.

When you reach for him again, the nerves are gone. You feel wanted. Desired. Seen.

He lays you back against the pillows, his hands never leaving you, and in the quiet of your bedroom, he makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world—not in spite of your body, but because of it.

He kisses every inch of your body.

"You have such a big ass."

He caresses your buttocks and grabs them as if to mark his order of possession.

"Luigi!"

"What? It's true! Sit on my face and beg."

"Of course not! I'll strangle you!"

"Nonsense, come here, that's an order."

He removes your panties and pulls you onto his face, hesitant at first, but seeing his determination you finally give in. His tongue is slow at first, but you can feel his chin caressing your clit and it feels good. Your movements speed up, you move your hips at your own pace. You can hear her moaning through your crotch, which turns you on even more. When you reach orgasm, you freeze, breathing out her name, your hands pressed to her chest.

You pull away, out of breath, and he does the same.

"Come here."

He grabs your arm and pulls you toward him. His hands cupping your buttocks, playing with them, pinching the fat of your buttocks, giving you little slaps.

"Luigi..."

"Do you want me to stop? It feels so good to touch it."

"No... it feels good."

He plunges his head into your chest and starts tickling and nibbling your nipples. You run your hands through his hair, encouraging him. You place your hand on his sex and caress it through his jeans, which you unbutton; he takes off his pants and boxers.

You change positions, he gets on top of you, the tip of his cock caresses your clit, you see waves of pleasure. Then he penetrates you, you feel him completely inside you. He may be younger than you, but he's really an experienced man.

"So good," he whispers in your ear, breathless.

You put your arms around his back. Then he begins to come and go until you both reach your climax.

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