#i think it's the shovel. making me all confused

[cautotelic]

Chapter 5: Been Like This

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Synopsis: When you get taken away from your home land and thrown into the palace of the infamous warlord, will things be as bad as they first seemed?

CW: SMUT (what we've all been waiting for), kinda fluff, Ambessa being downright downbad, yes the title is from that Doja Cat song 🤨

A/N: enough with the sadness, let the tension end. please leave more replies/comments I LOVE reading them and knowing y’all enjoy the story:))

The next few days go by painstakingly slow. I help the physicians with tending to the injured warriors. I’m back to avoiding Ambessa, still somewhat upset with her. Whenever I think about her I’m drawn between being so frustratingly angry at her and just wanting to thank the fact she’s, in her words, alive and well.

Whenever I get the chance during the day I’ll go into my room and try to get a bit of sleep before leaving for the night, knowing that Ambessa has been residing in my room. Maybe she’s hoping that I’ll come back at the same time she's there, but I doubt that.

Currently I’m outside of the estate collecting snow in a bucket to take inside for the physicians. Being in my own thoughts I don’t hear the crunching of snow beneath boots coming from behind me. 

“You should really wear a coat out here, little lady.”

I smile. “You want to give me a hand or are you just going to stand there and look pretty?”

The crunch of snow grows closer before Rictus’s big, burly form comes into view. He settles himself behind me and pulls something out of his cape, a blanket. 

I hold my hand up. He continues to unfold it. “The General would have my head if I let you get frostbite out here.”

“Why does she bother?” I mumble as I feel the weight of the blanket being placed around my shoulders. I will admit that I am thankful for the blanket.

Rictus hums as he takes the bucket out of my hands and begins shoveling in the snow with his own gloved hands. “She has a weird way of showing it, but she really does care about you. It’s the reason she brought you here,” he admits.

My brows furrowed in confusion but Rictus continued. “She and your father had a meeting negotiating trade deals and land disputes, the regular diplomatic conversations,” he says and I nod. “I remember you standing in the corner of your fathers office, just a tiny little thing, barely noticed you were there. But when we got back on the airship, you were all she could talk about.”

“She sent your father a letter asking if he would trade you for extra trading goods. He refused and she threatened him with war.” The bucket of snow is full so Rictus stands, I copy his movements as we start to make our way back to the estate. “Of course she knew of your power and wanted you to train her soldiers, but she also saw how miserable you looked, like a bird trapped in a cage. Her stronger feelings for you only transpired after you arrived.”

We step back into the estate and hand the bucket of snow to the physician standing there. I watch her leave before turning to Rictus. “Why are you telling me this?”

“So you understand why I have to do what I’m about to do next,” he utters, a hint of guilt showing in his expression.

“What-“

In an instant I’m scooped up and thrown over his shoulder as he begins walking down the hallway. A small gasp comes out as I am disoriented. “Rictus put me down. Where are you taking me?” I protest.

My struggling does nothing to sway him into putting me down. “The General hasn’t slept for a week because of you and personally, I don’t enjoy being yelled at,” he grunts as he readjusts me on my shoulder.

The realization hits me. He’s taking me to Ambessa. I start hitting his back. “Rictus, put me down now. I don’t want to see her,” I declare.

I protest the whole way until we walk into a room lined with bookshelves. He sets me down on my feet and I turn around to face Ambessa who is sitting at her desk. The surprise on her face tells me that all this was all by Rictus’s own doing. 

“General,” Rictus nods towards Ambessa before walking out of the room, leaving us together.

The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a knife. I stand awkwardly in the center of her study as I shift from foot to foot. Her study is just as warm and inviting as her bedroom. Throw blankets adorn the couch sat in front of the fireplace and soft rugs cover the floors.

I look up at Ambessa and she isn’t looking at me but I can tell she’s tired.

“I don’t know why he brought you here, I told him, and everyone else for that fact, not to bother you,” she states coldly as she writes something down in the ledger on the desk.

Just hearing her talk and being in her general vicinity has all my anger resurfacing. I let out a chuckle. “You’re a real piece of work, you know?” I accuse as I stalk towards her desk.

She stops writing, folds her arms, and leans back in her seat, an amused expression playing on her face. “Oh you're in no position to talk about being a piece of work, but please, do tell.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, growing irritated. “You are so incredibly maddening. I cannot fathom how anyone gets anything done around here with you.” When I get close enough I trail my hand along the edge of her desk. “For the past month I spent the whole time believing you were dead, hoping you weren’t so I could do it myself. But now…” I sigh as I look at her, looking for answers to the ache I feel deep in my bones. “I can’t even find the strength to stay mad at you.”

Our eyes lock and I wonder if there is just as much emotion in my eyes as there are in hers. I draw closer to her slowly, unsure and uncertain. Reaching out I touch her cheek with the backs of my fingers softly. 

She leans into the small touch before grabbing my hand and pressing kisses to my palm. “Forgive me… please.”

My body leans towards her hesitantly, eyes darting between her lips and her eyes. I gently press my lips to hers, my own silent apology and many words unspoken. I feel her smile into the kiss as she lets me lead. My own repressed desires surface as I move to press myself closer to her. Ambessa stands from her desk chair, breaking our kiss as her hands come under my thighs and lift me onto the cool wood of her desk. My hands move on their own accord touching any part of her that I can. She chuckles at my eagerness before lifting her shirt off, her bindings going with it. I stare at her for a good second admiring her as her hands go to the bottom hem of my shirt. She looks at me, waiting for me to push her away, to close myself off again.

I don’t.

I mutter a soft ‘yes’ and she takes my shirt off. Unlike our kiss in the library, her fingers find my skin, going over the scars on my chest and torso. Under her observant gaze I feel self conscious and I curl in on myself.

Ambessa notices this and makes a noice of displeasure. Her head dips back down and her lips brush against the shell on my ear, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. “Do you know how turned on you make me, sweetheart? Hm.” She hums as she nuzzles her nose into the crook of my neck. I shake my head and she groans. “Too much. I get all hot and bothered when you're fully dressed, so don’t worry about this,” she says, her hands trailing up my sides. “You're perfect.”

Her lips find mine again as she lifts me off the desk and walks us over to the big couch in her study. Laying me down on the couch she makes quick work of my pants as well as her own. She leans down and sucks on the skin of my neck, leaving dark marks that will stay. Her hand travels down, down until it touches my waiting core. She teases, circling her fingers around my clit. I let out a frustrated whine and she chuckles.

“So impatient,” she hums, kissing my ear.

She’s merciful and slowly enters her fingers. Her pace starts out slow and deliberate, sinking them in before, dragging them almost all the way out, before doing it over again. I sigh, pleased that she’s finally touching me but wanting her to speed up. 

My hands come around to her back, grabbing as much of her as I can before pushing her into me. I turn my head to it’s right by her ear. “I know you love me, but I want you to fuck me like you hate me,” I nearly demand.

She chuckles into my skin. “I would be careful what you ask for, little one,” she purrs as she bites down onto the space between my neck and shoulder. She speeds up the thrusts of her hand as she curls her fingers up and brushes that spot inside me. I gasp. She mimics my face and sound. “There,” she says breathily. “Is that what you wanted? Hm. To be treated like this, like a toy for me to use?”

I let out a strangled moan into her ear. My noises only egg her on as she fucks me. My nails dig into her back. 

“So fucking wet, your basically swallowing my fingers. You dirty, dirty girl,” she says as she leans away from me looking down at my sopping cunt. 

She uses the thumb of the same hand to gently circle my clit, light and slow motions. She watches her own fingers disappear inside me, she damn near moans at the sight. I quickly shut my legs closed at the sensation, feeling overwhelmed. She roughly pushes them back open as I feel her go deeper.

“Fuck…” I sigh. It’s all too much, her, my body. I reach my hand down to grab at her wrist. For what exactly, I’m not sure, but the coil in my stomach is winding tighter and tighter, I feel like I might burst.

Ambessa looks down at me with a dark expression on her face as she grabs both my wrists in her free hand and holds them against my stomach, leaving me helpless as she tortures my body.

“Mm that’s much better, don’t you think, little one?” She chuckles as she bullies her fingers into me at an unforgiving pace.

The sounds leaving my mouth are absolutely, downright shameful. But I can’t find it in me to care right now. Moans and whines leave my lips but Ambessa swallows them in a kiss. 

“Please please ple-ah,” I jolt as she hits that spot. She takes notice and focuses on repeatedly hitting that spot as her circles on my clit fasten.

The coil begins to fray, the pressure too much. “A-ambessa stop I-“ I’m cut off by my own moan.

She looks down at me and hums. “Are you close? Going to make a mess for me, pretty girl?” She coos.

I struggle against her hold trying to get away from her and the feeling in my stomach as my breathing grows ragged. I cry out as my orgasm washes over me, my back arched, Ambessa smiles as she fucks me through it.

When it’s finished I close my eyes and regain my breathing. I stay like that for a while, my hands coming to cover my face.

Before I can even open my eyes again I’m being flipped onto my stomach, my chest being pushed into the couch, ass up. I yelp as I crane my head to look behind me. Ambessa leans over my body so that her head is right beside mine, her bigger frame covering mine. I feel something prod at my backside. I go to look and she turns my head to look at her. She trails kisses along my shoulder blade.

“That first one was for your pleasure,” she says, almost proudly. “These ones are for mine.” 

“What are you- oh my god,” I moan as I feel her strap enter me. When the fuck did she put that on?

My mouth forms an ‘O’ as she sinks deeper into me, inch by inch. I dig my fingers into the couch to keep me grounded. Ambessa leans over and kisses my cheek, laughing softly. 

“I won’t be as kind.”

“Sadist much?” I spit out, my voice coming off weaker than I expected.

A loud smack sounds through the room and I jolt forward, gasping at the sting. Ambessa’s hand rubs over the spot. “I do hate disobedience, and you're far overdue for a lesson,” she leans down to my ear. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

Her weight lifts off me. “If it’s too much, let me know.” As soon as I nod her hips snap forward. A short scream leaves my throat at the action. 

Her pace is so deliberately slow it makes me want to cry. I groan into the couch. I move my hips in sync with her, fucking myself back on her. Her hand comes and grip my hips, halting my movements and I whine.

“You want me to go faster?” She asks, and I nod desperately. “Well who am I to deny you that?” There’s a hint of something in her voice but I couldn’t care less as she does indeed pick up the pace.

I’m a moaning mess as she does. I’m muttering curses and small ‘thank you’s under my breath as I approach my climax faster this time. 

This time when I finish, Ambessa doesn’t stop. I whimper, overstimulated. “T-too much- Ambessa.”

She chuckles behind me as she grunts, speeding up her pace. “This is your lesson for being so damn mouthy. I told you that this wasn’t for your pleasure, it’s for mine. So fucking take it or do you want me to stop?” She slows to a complete stop before pulling out. She waits a solid few minutes waiting for my growing orgasm to subside.

I cry out at the loss of stimulation. “You're such an asshole,” I seethe.

She shrugs before pressing back into me at a brutal pace. “So damn stubborn,” she says.

Ambessa has me a moaning mess in less than a few minutes. She kisses down my back, over my scars. “So fucking pretty. You like this huh? You like me being mean to you.” All I can do is nod and mumble incoherently at her words.

“What happened to that attitude that you had earlier? Am I fucking you too good for you to act out now?” She teases. 

Although she is acting unaffected, her small moans and sighs are telling me she is getting off from this, from me.

I’m getting closer to my 3rd orgasm and her thrusts are growing erratic and inconsistent. “Fuck…” she groans from behind me and I can tell she’s close too. She speeds up and a guttural moan leaves my lips as my body shakes.

She keeps thrusting her hips forward, chasing her own release. I tap her hand on my hip. “Stop Ambessa.”

She quickly pulls out of me and flips me around, concern written on her face. Her hand comes to cradle my cheek. “What’s the matter? Did I-“

I flip her over so she’s on her back before climbing on top of her, sinking down onto her strap. I moan at the feeling, feeling it go deeper than in the other position. Ambessa looks up at me from her spot below me. “Darling you don’t have to-“

“Shut up,” I sigh as I begin to move. She moans at the sight and the friction on her own cunt. I bounce up and down on her strap, moans leaving my lips as I look down at Ambessa watching her face contorted in pleasure. 

I fold over and suck marks into her neck as soft sighs and moans leave her lips. Her body is growing restless and I know she’s close. 

She leans into me, worry etched into her brows. “You need to finish first. I can’t-“

“You can and you will. You better fucking finish, Ambessa I swear to god,” I chuckle as a breathy moan leaves my lips. 

I pick up my pace, my breast moving in time with my bounces. I reach down and roll her nipple between my fingers earning a small sigh from her. 

Her face should be casted in a painting for my eyes only. Her eyes watch the strap as it goes in and out of me. Her moans growing more and more desperate.

“Are you going to come for me, General? Gonna get off to me using you to pleasure myself?”

At my words her arms reach up to me as she pulls me to her chest. She props her feet up, heels digging into the couch as she thrusts up into me. 

“Oh my god- fuck fuck fuck.” I say into her skin. She’s shuddering at this point. “I’m gonna come- fuck.”

My orgasm wracks through my body, our combined moans filling the room. My body goes limp and we stay like this, me on top of her, as we both catch our breath. I raise my head and peck a kiss on her lips.

She moves under me, sliding her strap out of me, I hiss. She chuckles as she lifts me and sets me down to stand. I wobble a little on my feet but her arm is there to steady me. She wraps one of the blankets on the couch around me before wrapping one around herself and then scooping me up.

We walk out of her study and into the hallway and I’m met with Rictus standing on the other end of the dead end hallway. My face reddens as we approach where he is standing against the wall. 

“Why is he down here, Ambessa?” I ask, embarrassed.

She shrugs. “Making sure no one bothered us,” she says nonchalantly.

Someone needs to give him a pay raise. 

We pass by him and he gives a curt nod to Ambessa before looking down at me wrapped in the blanket. 

“Good talk?” He questions with a mischievous, barely there smile.

“Good talk,” I affirm as Ambessa keeps walking.

She takes me to her room and we shower to wash the sex off of our bodies. I dote on her, washing her hair and body even though she insists she can do it herself. She dresses me in her clothes before laying us down in her bed. I lay my head in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. Her hand lazily runs up and down my back, I no longer flinch at her touch as it lulls me to sleep.

For the first time in years I get a full night's sleep.

[gaysondashanon]

someone brought it to my attention that i mistagged a few of my posts, so im sorry for the confusion before.

[vicariousresearcher]

Neighbour!141 and how they get your attention.

Neighbour!Price who is constantly offering you help. Sees some furniture boxes at your door and is offering to put it together for you. No? Well surely you need some tools at least, make it all easier. No no he doesn’t mind truly. He doesn’t want you trying to fix everything up with just an allen key now does he?

Shovels your side walk, up to your door even. When you come to him the next day all apologetic and saying that you were just about to do it, seriously he didn’t need to. He just brushes you off saying that ‘birds don’t need to be out doin that.' It‘s okay, he was doing his anyway. 

Listening when you complain about your shitty landlord who has yet to do anything about your faulty water heater. You’re in those shorts he’s only seen through the window, arms crossed and rambling as he thumbs at the valves. 

“It’s a no go bird. You gotta buy a whole new heating element and get it put in dere. If you’re needin to, you can shower at my place till this gets figure’d out ya?”

Neighbour!Kyle who honestly you see more outside of your neighbourhood than in it. You have no clue how but you two always end up in the same place at the same time. 

Grocery shopping? Oh he's here too, it has the best deals on produce! Excursion? Oh he just wanted to see the new exhibit at the aquarium just like you, great minds think alike. Eating something in your favourite cafe during your lunch break? He slides in the seat across from you with a playful smile saying ‘how its nice to see you here neighbour’. 

You don’t even know he slipped a tracker in your purse during one of these bump ins.

That's how it starts. A friendship with a man you apparently have so much in common with. You have to with how much you see him at your favourite places. Even that niche little diner that you love as soon as you mention it he’s finishing off its name and talking about how their sweets are so good.

“What do you mean you haven’t had any? Want me to grab you some next time I go-actually no how about we just go together. I need to see what else you’ve been depriving yourself of. Come on, we’ll go in the evening when it’s nice and quiet so it’ll just be us.”

Neighbour!Johnny who sees the sweet thing living next door and knows he needs to get his hands on you. But he’s smarter than those pretty eyes and dumb grin would let you think. He wants you to come to him. He just needs to prove what a prize he is first. 

So he finds every chance possible to workout outside. 

Deliberately does his stretches for his morning run where you’ll be able to see while you make your coffee for the morning. Absolutely chuffed when he makes eye contact with you while he’s mid shirt pull. The way you go bug eyed when caught ogling has him ready wanting to ask if you liked the show.

Now, god forbid you have a dog. He’s making friends through the fence, coming up to your door offering to take the sweet thing on a walk if you want. Truly he would love to have a running buddy please let him take your pupper out. It becomes normal enough that you don’t even bat an eye when he’s offering to take your baby out when you’re not home. 

“I don’t mind taking my boy out once in a while. His mama’s busy but I’m not. Where’d you say you keep your outside key?”

Neighbour!Simon who quickly learns that he can’t offer to help you round because it comes off as….creepy. He’s the one you think is going to tag you with a tracker or follow you to work. The one that has you holding your keys between your fingers when pulling in at night.

So he takes a different approach. Needy, confused, and helpless. A military man entirely unacquainted with domestic duties.

He’s pathetic in a stuck racoon kind of way. You know you shouldn’t trust him but the way you’ve heard his smoke alarm go off 3 times in the time you’ve been here has you messaging if he wants some of your supper since you made too much. You catch yourself adding far more while cooking just so you have something to drop off to his doorstep. 

You don’t even know how it happened but now you’re in his kitchen teaching him how to make some easy meals with your chicken marinade recipes. Something he won’t burn or over salt. He’s got you rambling away, so blissfully unaware. Safe in his home, so trusting of him now.. He’s made so much improvements with you, no more scurrying away the minute he’s a couple feet away. 

“‘m sorry for needin so much from ya. If there's anything I can do just message me ya? Don’t matter what time, I’ll come. Anything you need.”

[worldlxvlys]

control

dealer! chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, p in v, cream pie, cursing, oral (male + fem receiving), 69, drug use

summary: the effects of the weed that you and chris were smoking made you horny enough, but add his recent insta pictures into the mix ? any sense of self-control you had left your body and suddenly, all you could focus on was making him a trembling, whiny mess under you.

a/n: idea credits to my love @hearts4chriss <33

everything was hazy.

my red eyes drooped ever so lightly, eventually fluttering closed as i took a hit from the joint that chris and i were sharing.

the smoke floated around in the air while we spoke about whatever came to our minds, giving each other our full attention.

well, i was paying attention, just not to his words. i wanted to listen to what he had to say, but i couldn’t help but find myself fixating on everything else.

the way his tongue darted out every now and then, wetting his dried lips.

his cheeks, which were lightly dusted with a rosey tint to match the color of his lips.

his hair, strands messily sticking out in every direction, only adding to how good he looked.

the veins in his hand protruded from his skin as he dug into the ice cream he brought over for us, causing me to clear my throat as i attempted to regain my composure.

i watched as he shoveled the sweet dessert into his mouth, just before the half-melted treat could spill anywhere.

“and i was gonna ask you which pictures you think i should post today, but i ended up picking-”

"wait, you posted?” i asked, grabbing my phone from its place beside me on the bed.

my eyes widened slightly when i saw the pictures, he looked so good.

he always looked good, but these pictures in particular turned me on a little more than they should have.

“you’re joking, right ?” i asked, the words flying out of my mouth before i could stop them.

“what?” he asked confused.

the weed seemed to have taken any self-control that remained in my body, as i immediately straddled chris’s lap.

“you didn’t think you were gonna be able to post those pictures without getting your brains fucked out, did you?”

he stared up at me, mouth hanging open while his hands held onto my waist.

“i mean, i don’t-” his mouth opened and closed like a fish, while a jumbled mess of words fell from his mouth.

i hooked my fingers onto the waistband of his shorts, effectively shutting him up as he squirmed in anticipation.

i moved from my place on top of him, situating myself on my knees between his legs.

i pulled the fabric down slightly to reveal his happy trail, immediately adorning the newly exposed skin with kisses.

he let out a low whine at the feeling, hips bucking up into my face.

i quickly pushed his hips down, holding him steady as i ran my tongue along his skin.

“fuck” he sighed out, eyes falling shut as he swallowed harshly.

i could tell that the weed was affecting him, his sensitivity to my touch growing with every movement.

“lift” i told him as he followed my instructions, raising his hips while i pulled his shorts down.

i brought my hand to his clothed dick, which pressed against his boxers angrily.

i pressed a kiss to his crotch, eliciting a low whine from him.

“what do you want, chris?” i asked as i began to palm him.

“need your mouth” he moaned out.

“lay back, take off your boxers” i told him, watching as he eagerly did what i said.

when he was laid fully naked on the bed, i stripped for him.

i joined him on the bed, sitting behind him with my chest pressed to his back.

i wrapped my arms around his waist, my hand finding its way to his dick.

"i- fuck- i said my mouth” he groaned out as i collected the pre-cum that leaked out of his tip in my hand.

“you’ll get my mouth” i spoke as i squeezed his base, his hips jerking up in response, “when i feel like it”

he remained silent after that, only moans and whines leaving his mouth as i continued to move my hand up and down his length.

“does it feel good, chris?” i asked, whispering into his ear while i nibbled the lobe.

“fuck, yes. please don’t stop” he groaned, thrusting his hips up into my hand.

“tell me when you’re close, baby” i spoke before beginning to take the skin of his neck between my lips, sucking harshly.

i littered his neck with dark bruises while he continued to fuck himself against my hand.

“so eager, my love. but if you want to cum, you’ll have to slow down” i told him.

“n-no, please ! i need to cum so bad” he spoke, his pace remaining the same.

“chris. slow down” i spoke again, causing the pace of his hips to slow against my hand.

“there you go, is it so hard to listen?” i asked as he let out a groan.

“fuck” he whispered out as his veiny cock moved against my hand slowly.

“i’m close” he spoke, his breathing picking up.

before he was able to let go, however, i moved my hand away.

“shit” he whined as his cock twitched, but he was left unsatisfied.

“you don’t get to finish that easily, baby. you gotta work for it” i spoke, chuckling as he went to move his hand towards his dick.

i quickly grabbed his hand before he got the chance to touch himself, “keep your hands behind your back. i swear to god, if you move them i’ll tie your ass up” i spoke into his ear.

he did as i said, but never acknowledged that he heard me. i turned his face to look at me, tilting my head at him, “you got that?”

“yes” he whispered as he stared at my lips.

i wrapped my hand around his neck, bringing his face up to mine to pull him into a heated kiss.

he moaned into my lips, while our lips molded together.

“you ok?” i asked him, noticing the dazed look on his face.

“you’re such a freak” he smirked up to me.

“and you’re such a submissive bitch” i answered, letting go of his face and moving my hand back down to his length.

i circled my thumb around his tip, pushing it against the slit, making his hips jolt up into my hand.

“such a tease” he mumbled under his breath.

in one swift motion, i moved to his side and pulled his shoulders back to lay down.

i moved so that each of my legs were on either side of his body.

“you obviously need some help in shutting the hell up” i spoke before moving to sit on his face.

chris immediately hooked his hands around my thighs, working my pussy with his tongue.

i leaned forward, taking his dick into my hand and swirling my tongue around his tip.

he groaned into me, the vibrations intensifying my pleasure.

i moaned against him in response, making his noises increase in volume.

i took as much of him as i could, using my hand to stroke the parts of his member that my mouth couldn’t reach.

he pulled my lower body harder against his mouth, his tongue focusing on my clit while his nose nudged against my needy hole.

i focused on his tip, teasing it as much as i could with my tongue, causing him to push his hips up in need.

i could tell he was getting close, so i removed my mouth from him with an audible pop.

he let out a whine of disappointment, his hands loosening around my thighs.

“you wanna cum so bad? fine.” i spoke as i moved down his body, making my way between his legs.

he sat upright, watching wordlessly as i turned around to face him.

he stared up at me with his mouth hung open while i aligned him with my entrance, sinking down onto him.

his hands automatically flew up to my waist when he bottomed out, stopping me from moving.

“god, i could cum right now if you start moving” deciding to test his limits, i spoke “good” before beginning to move anyway.

“fuck- oh my god” he groaned out as he began to shake underneath me.

i knew his frustrations from his previously ruined orgasm were building up, but i didn’t think it’d actually make him finish so quickly.

“i can’t- holy shit” he shuddered as he shot his load into me.

i gave him a minute to regain his breath, his grip on my hips tightening slightly.

“i still- i wanna make you feel good. please let me fuck you” he begged.

“yeah? give it to me, baby” he lifted me up slightly before beginning to thrust his hips up into mine.

the feeling of his hot cum being fucked into me sent me into a frenzy, only making me wetter.

i could tell he was struggling, overworking his already spent muscles to make sure i felt good.

“you’re so good to me, chris. let me take care of you” i whispered down to him.

his thrusts came to a hault, allowing me to take over as i rocked my hips into his.

“fuck, yes. oh my god” he shakily moaned as his head fell onto my shoulder.

i brought my hand to his hair, raking my fingers through it slowly while i rolled my hips on top of him sensually.

“look so pretty like this, oh” his face scrunched up as he began to whimper under me, making me clench around him at the sound.

“fuck- i’m so sensitive” he spoke.

“i know, baby. can’t help it, love hearing those sounds you make” i breathed out.

“still feeling ok?" i asked.

he nodded his head at that, “yes, so close. can i cum?” he asked as his hands slid to my ass, groping and massaging the skin.

“wait for me, i’m almost there. can you hold it w little longer?” i asked, reaching between us to rub my clit.

“t-too much” he whined, his face scrunching up while a few tears fell down his face.

“take it, chris” i told him, wiping his tears away while he twitched inside of me.

his legs began to shake involuntarily, increasing the friction between us.

“fuck” his voice broke as he moaned out, eyes rolling back as he bit his lip.

“go ahead, chris. let go” i told him, his hips stuttering as his head flew back and he filled me up with his cum.

it wasn’t long before i finished on top of him, my release dripping out of me and onto his dick.

we took a minute to catch our breath, staying in the same position for a while.

“here, let’s get you cleaned up” i spoke, moving to get up when he stopped me.

“wait, can we just stay like this for a while?” he asked, his arms wrapping tighter around me.

“of course” i told him, wrapping my arms around his neck to hug his body close to mine.

“you ok?” i asked as i rubbed soothing circles into his back.

“when i’m with you? always” he spoke, placing a kiss to my shoulder.

🍑🍑🍑🍑

dwb! chris masterlist

main masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[vitentia]

DEAR DIARY, DAY TWO OF HAVING A GIRLFRIEND….MIGHT DIE.

pairings ━━ jackson!ellie williams x reader

warnings ━━ tooth rotting fluff I fear

synopsis ━━ you like Ellie, ellie likes you, she grows enough tit to ask you out and surprise! you said yes! yet somehow you’re more nervous around your girlfriend than when she was your crush…AGH!

authors note ━━ did I go ghost for a year? yes. did I hear someone ask for more fluff/angst amidst freaktober on tumblr? also yes. I have come to provide🫡

IMPORTANT note — if you wanna request an Ellie or Abby fic, just pm me! I think coming up with all the fics on my own is the reason I burnt out but send me any ideas you have that aren’t smut bc I SUCK at writing that. Im also considering writing for arcane?? So yeah!

Cleaning horse shit isn’t the sexiest job in the world, which is why you were eternally grateful your girlfriend had been assigned to go on patrol with Tommy this morning. Even the thought of “your girlfriend” sent shivers down your spine and a red hot blush on your cheeks. You sniffled and wiped your cheek against your shoulder, conveniently the jacket your girlfriend, Ellie, had given you last night.

Again, you fought back a smile as the words “my girlfriend, ellie” popped into your head. Just 48 hours ago you were accepting the fact that you might have to yearn for the brunette from afar for the rest of your lives, and today you were biting your lips trying not to look too happy shoveling actual shit.

“Hey girlie!” Called out the man in charge, his big gut making it’s way into the shed before his head did as he leaned against his favorite horses stead. “You’ve been relieved. Tommy and Ellie are on their way back, just put the girls back where they belong and I’ll feed them, get it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” He replied quickly before raising the pitch of his voice and cooing down at the large horse between his palms like a baby.

You snickered at his actions but couldn’t resist the speedy pace you walked at as you grabbed your hanging bag and ran towards the shed bathroom. As soon as you locked the door behind you, you immediately shoved off your almost knee length rubber boots and changed into your cutest (aka least creased) boots. Despite not having any perfume like they did back then, you did make sure to grab a special bar of soap before you left your house and scrubbed the lavender scent into your arms like your life depended on it. Looking in the dirty mirror, you tried to vaguely make out whether or not you looked presentable. You tried lowering the v-cut shirt you were wearing but immediately shook your head and decided against it.

Just as you were in between hyping yourself up and finding an escape route, the guards on top shouted out, stating that the doors were opening.

You were a nervous wreck. Constantly pushing your hair in front of your forehead and then behind your ear while simultaneously walking towards the front of Jackson where your girlfriend would be making an entrance.

With the sun beaming behind her head and shining her brown locks into a beautiful golden color, you had to raise your hand above your eyes to protect yourself. Has she always been this beautiful or are the God’s reminding me how perfect my girlfriend is?

“Millers! You’re back early.” A nearby card player called out, kicking his feet back against a wooden barrel with a cigarette hanging half out of his mouth.

“Yeah well, Ellie was killin’ them things left and right. Would’ve thought she had somewhere to be.” Tommy joked, sliding off his horse and giving you the reigns with a smile. For a second, your heart skipped a beat, believing she might’ve told him on their journey.

“Hey, if you’re a lousy shot, just say that.” Ellie teased him back with a shrug, remaining on her horse with no movement towards getting down. You looked up at her in confusion but as soon as your eyes connected, you immediately looked away, feeling your face burn.

“Yeah, next time I go out on patrol I know who to call.” The man chuckled

“Thank you, man.” Tommy beamed

“Not you, dipshit.”

You and Ellie let out a surprised cackle, and while you tried covering yours up with a cough as Tommy glared in your direction, Ellie couldn’t hold back her hearty laugh. She slapped her thigh and wiped an invisible tear from her eye as Tommy rambled on. While her uncle turned his anger to the card player, she caught your eye and motioned her head towards the stables.

“Lead the way.”

You nodded and lowered your gaze again, mentally freaking out as you guided Tommy’s horse back into her stable with Ellie following close behind on her own. Whilst you removed her gear gently, you could hear the clanging of Ellie following suit behind you. And when she finished, she simply watched you.

“You’re so gentle with them.” You jumped at her words, not expecting her to be so close as she leaned against the entrance of the stable. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” She chuckled lightly.

“No, you’re good I, uh, I have this…idea that they’re so on edge from being outside that they can’t really tell when it’s time to relax and when it’s time to work. So I just try to make the transition easier, you know? No loud noises, extra treats, stuff like that..” You answered, giving the ol’ girl a nice rub on her sides.

Ellie hummed and leaned her body backwards, looking both ways to see if anyone was around before stepping into the stable you were in. Her steps were slow as she approached you and you resisted the urge to step away, not for any reason besides you literally thought you might combust being this close to her.

She stood in front of you, eyes staring deeply into yours while her hands remained at her sides. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.” She said in a low voice.

“Really?”

“Of course.” Her head lowered to find your hands, she clasped both of your hands in both of hers as she admired you. “How could I not?”

Your mind was screaming, blaring alarms, and throwing burning papers in the air as the people in your head attempted to regulate…well everything.

You let out an airy chuckle and looked down bashfully. “Well, you’re lucky you didn’t see me an hour before.” She gave you a confused look, so you continued. “I was cleaning up after the horses.”

Ellie looked up at the ceiling and thought about the vagueness of your words before a smile grew on her cheeks. She lifted her hand to cup her cheek to look her in the eye. “I think you would’ve looked beautiful anyway.”

“Shoveling horse shit?” You snorted

She shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t get in your mouth, no harm, no foul, right?”

“Ewww!” You whined as Ellie laughed at your reaction. You shivered at the thought. “Too early.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” She surrendered, admiring your entire face for a minute before looking behind her quickly. “Hey…” she whispered, almost nervous in a way.

“Hey.”

She moved closer to you, reaching up to stroke your cheek and hoping you wouldn’t notice the way her hand shook the entire way up. “Can I get a kiss?”

Your heart leaped. Your vocal chords were nowhere to found, so you attempted a simple nod. But Ellie smiled at you and shook her head.

“Can I hear you say it?”

You gulped. “Please kiss me, Ellie.”

With a wide smile, she leaned in and connected your lips so gently, you felt like you were being kissed by a fairy. She let you both grow comfortable in the kiss before pulling away lightly, giving you the same chance, and leaning in once more when you chased after her lips. The two of you remained in a tight embrace, neither pushing the others boundary too much but putting enough pressure to know she were there. For a minute, you forgot where you were.

“Hey girlie!” A voice boomed

The two of you pulled away in shock, looking between each other before you quickly looked around at your surroundings and hurriedly threw a brown bag in Ellie’s direction. She caught it in both arms before spinning around to face the burly old man who sauntered over.

“Williams. What are you doing in my shed?” He questioned her.

You popped out from the other side of the horse and patted her side. “Sorry, sir. She wanted to give the girls some treats for their hard work out there.”

He looked between you two suspiciously before crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Ellie with a look you couldn’t put your finger on. “So you’re the one who’s been sneaking my girls extra snacks, eh?”

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed for a second before sighing and handing him the bag as if she’d been caught. “Yep, it’s me. Sorry, man.”

He sucked his teeth and snatched the bag out of her hand, reaching inside to grab a red apple and bite into it. “You’re lucky you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count, Williams.” He pointed at her and then to you. “And you, stop bein’ so damn nice. Y’all are gonna fatten my horses up. Now, get.”

You and Ellie swiftly made your way out of the horse shed, walking side by side inconspicuously throughout Jackson. Your hands occasionally bumped each other and you both resisted the urge to grab it. Ellie, because she didn’t want her business out to the whole world, and you, because your hands were probably dripping from how sweaty they felt.

You’d never felt this nervous around anyone. The secrecy of your relationship made it all the more wild. And yeah, it would be nice for everyone to know that Ellie is yours.

It’s also just nice being able to tell yourself that Ellie fucking Williams is your girlfriend.

[lovebugism]

steve finds out reader hasn’t slow danced with a guy before… like maybe she never went to prom with a date and he makes it really sweet for her

when steve finds out you've never slow danced with anybody, he takes it as a challenge (fluff, established relationship, 0.8k)

Languishing on Steve Harrington’s couch, you rest your full weight against his shoulder like you’re trying to melt with him there. You vaguely hear him shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth while you stare unblinking at the black-and-white film playing ahead of you.

“Slow dancing is, like… really weird,” you observe in a quiet murmur, features all twisted in confusion.

“Whaddaya mean?” the boy beside you wonders through his mouthful.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a lazy shrug. “It’s just, like… swaying in place… really awkwardly.”

“It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

You wave your hand at the television across the room, where a couple of Old Hollywood actors dance like both of them’s caught the plague. “Look at that and tell me that’s not awkward!” you argue and turn your chin to look at him. 

Your faces are much closer than you thought. The tip of your nose threatens to brush the chiseled bridge of his. The proximity leaves you wishing it had.

Steve scoffs with a boyish scrunch to his features. “Well, those two have, like, zero chemistry! You gotta slow dance with someone you like, you know? Like, really like,” he explains, gesturing wildly with his hand and jostling you slightly in the process. “Then you got yourself a good time, alright? You’re pressed all close, holding each other’s hands, dancing through the sexual tension—”

“It’s weird,” you insist with a scrunched nose.

“It’s nice!”

“Let’s just agree to disagree,” you shrug.

Steve shakes his wild head and shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Yeah, I can’t do that,” he says, muffled through the food in his cheek.

You snort a quiet laugh in return.

“So you’re saying you’ve never slow danced with someone before?” he wonders with his mouthful, then swallows. “Like, ever?”

Your face scrunches like it’s obvious. “No.”

“Not even at prom?”

“I didn’t have a date at prom!”

“I didn’t either!” he tells you, which you think is only half a lie. Nancy had just broken up with him then — whether he was too heartbroken or too lazy to find another date is still up in the air, really.

Your eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “The entire female class of 1985 was your prom date.”

“I’m just sayin’,” he insists, laughing quietly to himself. “You’re missin’ out here, babe.”

You scoff and reach for the bowl in his lap, stealing a handful of room-temperature popcorn for yourself. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

—————

The sound of vintage violins swells distantly in the otherwise quiet house as the film credits roll. Lit only by the amber stove light, you dump uneaten and unpopped kernels into the trashcan in the kitchen. A record crackles in the room over. A song floats gently on the midnight air.

Everybody loves somebody sometime…

Everybody falls in love somehow…

Your brows furrow when Steve appears in the doorway, rocking his hips back and forth and snapping his fingers to the languid beat. He sings the words quietly to himself, hardly trying but still sounding sort of decent anyway. “Something in your kiss just told me... My sometime… Is now…”

“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, biting back a chuckle.

“Dancing,” the boy answers.

Your brows furrow as he approaches you — hips still swaying, fingers still snapping. “…By yourself?” you question slowly.

He cages his plush bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head. With wide, warm palms, he smooths his hands over your sides. “Mm-mm,” he hums and squeezes your hips. “With you.”

His touch urges you to sway alongside him, but you tense almost immediately — a virtually immovable force. “No, Steve!” you scold through giggles, shoving him away with a halfhearted hand. “Steve, don’t!”

“C’mon!” he shouts over your protests as his chuckles entwine with your own. “Just dance with me! It’s not gonna kill ya!”

You make a faint grumbly noise of disapproval but don’t fight about it any further. With your face still scrunched in a childlike pout, you let him take one of your hands into his larger one and rest your other against his chest. With a palpable hesitance, you follow his subtle side-to-side movements.

Something in my heart keeps saying…

My someplace is here…

“This is so cheesy,” you giggle to yourself.

“But it’s nice, right?” Steve presses with raised brows. 

Rogue chestnut hairs fall over his forehead, and you fight the urge to push them back. Your nose scrunches in a silent answer, and he laughs. You can feel the golden sound rumble in his chest. 

“You don’t have to say anything… I know you like it.”

You roll your eyes at his smug grin. “Only ‘cause you’re such a good dance partner,” you tease with a knowing squint in your eyes.

His gaze swims with honey as his rosy lips quirk in a lopsided smile. “Don’t make me blush,” he jokes in a quiet murmur, already leaning down to kiss you. 

Steve swallows your laughter with a pink, petaled mouth pressed against your lips — tasting faintly of popcorn, cheap beer, and adoration.

The song crackles quietly through it all.

—And although my dream was overdue…

Your love made it well worth waiting…

For someone like you…

[splatteringyandere]

Days of the Week as Yanderes

Monday is your cold coworker. He hardly ever talks to you outside of dumping work on your desk. Honestly, you think he has some sort of problem with you. He certainly doesn’t treat any of your other coworkers this way. Demanding and unfriendly, like he owns you. It doesn’t matter if you complain to HR, he’s such a model employee they couldn’t afford to let him go.

“Y/N, I have another stack of paperwork for you. I know it’s late, but these have to be done tonight. You have plans? Well, I guess you’ll have to cancel them.”

Tuesday is your best friend. You grew up next door to each other, playing and wrestling in the yard until your mothers called you home for the night. As you both grew older, his obsession with you grew as well. However, when you’re an adult, life isn’t as simple as “having one best friend” and you having more friends means him having more competition.

“Y/N, are you free tonight? You don’t usually have anything going on this day of the week. You should come over to my place! We can watch a movie. You pick.”

Wednesday is a creep. Somehow, he’s always there. It doesn’t matter where you go, the grocery store, work, your friend’s house, somehow you’ll always bump into him. You suspect he’s taking photos of you, but you have absolutely no proof. You try to be more careful, not go out at night or be alone, just in case. It doesn’t matter though, eventually you’ll end up in his basement anyway.

“Camera? What camera? I was just taking a walk, just like you. If I did have one though, I bet you would make a great model.”

Thursday is your quiet classmate. You don’t even know she exists, really. The kind of girl that blends into the background. You think you gave her a pen once, maybe? Nothing that really sticks out in your head. It makes it all the more confusing when you start receiving threatening notes. Who on earth would send these? You certainly couldn’t remember doing anything in particular to deserve them.

“Thank you for the tissue, I really really appreciate it. Am I new? I’ve been in your class since we were kids…”

Friday is a playboy. He’s the kind of guy that spots you across the bar and makes his move. Your immediate disinterest shatters his massive ego, sending his head into a whirl. He always gets what he wants, how could this have happened? It’s not long until he’s trying to win your affection every night, buying you drinks and hitting you with his funniest jokes. There’s nothing he wants more than what he can’t have. If all his charm still doesn’t work, well, maybe it’s time he takes what he wants.

“Funny running into you here again, haha. Can I buy you a drink to make up for last time? I promise, no games this time, but only if you promise not to throw it in my face again.”

Saturday is your boyfriend. He’s the full package, strong, kind, intelligent. Sure, he’s a little possessive, but that’s normal, right? After all, he’s the basically the perfect man, showering you in gifts at every opportunity and leaping to do things for you. Before you know it, you’ll depend on him for almost everything. Exactly how he wanted it.

“I think you should quit your job, Y/N, all it does is cause you stress. It’s such a long commute, I hate waiting for you to come home. Plus, I make plenty enough money. Let me take care of you!”

Sunday is your neighbor. You smile warmly at each other in passing, sometimes he even shovels your driveway for you after a heavy snow or takes in your garbage can so you don’t have to walk it all the way up the driveway. In exchange, you’ll make him cookies or gift him vegetables from your garden, which he always appreciates. When he sets up his new security cameras, you can’t help but notice how a few of them are angled directly at your windows.

“Hey, Y/N! I picked up your mail for you. I hope you don’t mind, but I threw out all the junk. Oh, some hot chocolate as thanks? Well, I couldn’t say no to that.”

[bokutooooo]

Dream Ride

warnings: strong language! flirting? age gap!! (LEGAL)

"Hey Neela, who's this red neck?" I laugh and Neela rolls her eyes. "This is Sean he just moved here try to be nice." "Hey nice to meet you y/n" he puts out his hand "Hey, have you showed him around yet?". "Yeah I showed him around a bit, you coming tonight?" "I think so my car finally ready, i'm so excited to show it off."

Neela and I are getting ready at my house. "Soooo going to make a move yet? I mean you guys eye fuck each other all the timeeee, you've had a crush on him for years." I laugh "He's turning thirty In like 3 years" "so what? I think you should make a move, It's likely he feels the same". It's true me and Han do flirt a lot but it never went anywhere, plus he is way older than me. "yeah yeah, just keep getting ready missy"..

We pull into the the race centre In my newly improved Nissan Skyline GT-R, of course it isn't just a boring plain car It's pink and white with a glossy finish don't even get me started on the interior. "this car Is so hot, I love it" I smile, proud of what I did "I know right! it's so perfect". I park In a spot near Twinkie's Hulk themed car, makes me grin every time I see it. Neela's already talking to Sean as I'm speaking with Twinkie "I see you're already best friends with red neck huh?" "yeah, seems chill, thought maybe he'd like to come with me tonight. He's seems really into cars." I look over my shoulder at Neela and Sean "You know DK's going to get mad right? Just look, already glaring at him." twinkie looks over, DK already on the move, eyes widen he's quick to rush over. I'm quick to follow behind him "Hey hey hey DK how's going I see you met Sean" I look over at Neela who looks a bit worried. Neela and DK have been dating? for awhile, I mean I don't know if I'd call it dating but best friends with benefits? DK has always been possessive over Neela but sometimes it's a bit much. "Who's this gaijin?!" Neela steps In front but Twinkie is quick to speak up "DK he's here with us, we don't want any problems just here to race. "really? can he drift." I swallow, Sean is probably so confused. "I can race, wanna race?" Twinkie and I look at each other wondering if we just heard the same thing. Now don't get me wrong DK doesn't scare me just I know damn well he's an amazing racer and going up against him Is kind of dumb, especially If you're Sean and have never seen DK race before. DK chuckles "alright gaijin sure, but uh whatcha gonna race with? that?" he looks over at the Hulk car. "He can use mine, see what the kid's got."

I recognize that voice so fast I don't even need to turn around to see who it is. "Really Han? gonna let this kid race with your car? .. alright I won't stop you, I can add it to my collection." he smirks he knows he'll win.

Me and Neela are listening to Twinkie lecture Sean about his stupid decision "Do you even know what DK stands for?" Twinkie crosses his arms waiting for a reply. "No? Donkey Kong?" I laugh and shake my head "It means DRIFT KING Sean, basically Twinkie's telling you that you're going to get you're ass kicked." I smile and watch Sean's face "Maybe I'll win? you never know" "the chances of you winning red neck are slim to none, than you'll have to pay back Han". I lean back against my car, "What about me?" I turn to see Han shoving his mouth full with chips. I smile seeing him shoveling food in his face he's always eating "just explaining what's going to happen after he loses" "hey have some faith in him, maybe he'll win".

"keyword Han. MAYBE, I just feel bad for you sucks you're gonna lose another car." He just laughs and looks at Sean "just try, you'll still owe me though."

"alright let's go! chop chop!!" Han hands his keys over to Sean to his 2006 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IX. "Han man this car is too nice for this."

Han shrugs "Y/n lets go up a level" Neela tugs at my arm "alright good luck Sean, see you at the finish line.. if you ever make it..." I giggle walking towards the elevator. "wait up!" twinkie and Han jogging towards us.

The elevator Is filled with the talking of Neela and Twinkie, the two of them stand close to the door while me and Han are In the back. I watch as Han leans down, "Hey y/n how have you been? it's been a minute since we last talk, missed you" he whispers it so Nel and Twinkie can't hear. "Just been working on Kai, finished her a couple days ago. I'll show you after if we go back to the garage." He's teasing me..I know he is, and I'm enjoying every second of it. "Sure, forgot you name them. I know you've been working on her for awhile, congrats." I smile and the doors open, we step out into the crowd of people. Music's blasting and people are shoving their tongues down each others throat, dancing/gridding. "Do you guys really think he'll win this" i ask looking at Neela and Han "probably not but why not give it a shot"

"Okay!! Let's get this started!!!" a girl steps up between the two cars who keep revving their engines while glaring at one another. "READY?" she looks at the two cars "SET.." the room goes silent for maybe 3 seconds. "GOO!!" and off! both cars race off around the building, twists and turns and all you can hear is screeching noise of the tires. There're quick to go up another level and people rush to get up there. "Come on!" Neela grabs my hand as we run.. or at least try to In our heels.

Once we reach upstairs everyone waits patiently to see who will reach the finish line first. And whoosh! DK stops perfectly, I sigh but already knew what the outcome would be. a minute later Sean screeches In and stops. People are cheering and surrounding DK as I walk towards the scratched up, dented car. Han, Twinkie and Neela are already talking to Sean "You own me a car red." Twinkie's laughing and Neela's talking with Sean. "So that didn't really go to plan huh?"

"Yeah guess not, but I'll just practice till I know for sure I can beat him" I just chuckle at his remark "Han, maybe you can teach him how to drift, a couple of lessons wouldn't hurt." Han turns to me and smirks "maybe you should baby" I glance at him, cheeks reddening at the nickname "why because I drift better than you?" I raise an eyebrow at him with a cocky grin on my face. "whatever you say"

"I wish you'd just race me already! I've been waiting so long" I groan, he smiles "maybe later" he shrugs "you always say thattt!" walking to his car "meet me at the garage, think there's a party going on." I turn back to Sean Twinkie and Neela.

"you guys up for it?"

-----------

Might make another part^!

[lieutenantfloyd]

Rainbow Cereal and Morning Confessions - Cyclone x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Over breakfast, you mention something that you noticed during the previous night, only for Beau to confess something that's been weighing heavily on his mind.

Warnings: Domestic fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of kids/pregnancy, Beau had a bad childhood and is bad with emotions but he's secretly a hopeless romantic.

Authors Note: This was originally a very different fic written with my OC in mind, but I loved this idea so much I couldn't help but rewrite it to post here! Based on some headcanons I posted in January.

Read on AO3

“You talk in your sleep.” You say between mouthfuls of colorful fruity cereal. 

He eyes you sharply over his newspaper and takes a long swig off steaming black coffee. 

“No, I don’t.” He answers dryly. 

You twirl your spoon and give him a toothy grin. “Yeah, you do.” 

He sends you an eye roll before pushing his plate away and returning to his daily reading. 

Several minutes pass by without another word, but the silence between you is anything but awkward—It somehow never is.

 “What exactly do I talk about?” He asks in a low voice, and it takes all you have not to jump up and kiss him then and there. 

“National secrets, mostly.” You deadpan before quickly shoveling another spoonful of cereal into your mouth in a poorly planned attempt to stop your laughter. 

His eyebrows fly up so fast that you nearly choke. He leans across the table, using thick fingers to wipe away a stray drop of milk that escaped your mouth before leaning back into his previous position and waiting on you to regain your composure. 

“For real though, It was mostly gibberish with the occasional mention of pancakes.” You say nodding towards his plate. 

He sends you an annoyingly soft smile as a bit of color returns to his face. 

Your mind runs over his sleeping mumbles of the previous night, and you make a connection between his somniloquy and the handwritten notes you’d seen on his desk. 

“You never told me you speak French.” 

His handsome features shift into a look you’ve never seen before, and you feel his eyes scrutinize yours as if he’s deeply considering something. 

“Cajun French. It’s what my parents spoke.”

You nod softly, feeling suddenly awkward as you pick up on the unusual tone laced through his deep voice.

In the years between your first meeting and now, you have asked countless people—all of various rank and branch, along with a few civilians—about him. Your inquiries had always turned up the same. Nothing. No wife, no kids, and no known background prior to joining the Navy. He didn’t even have any social media to stalk. Aside from these intimate moments only you share with him, he’s a complete mystery. Practically a ghost.

“Were you and your parents close?” You ask softly.

“No.” He says. The finality feels sharp, but his tone falls flat. His voice feels nearly foreign to your ears.

His eyes fall to yours again, only this time they’re a confusing mix of vulnerable and guarded. You know instantly that something happened—something bad—and you choose not to push the topic any further.

You look down at your bowl, stirring the now soggy cereal around the colorful milk. He always chastises you for eating it, but it’s no different than how you nag at him for surviving off of coffee and pent up anger—a simmering rage so intertwined with him that you’ve often wondered where it stems from. Still seated in front of you, he’s staring off into space. You’re too afraid to ask yourself that question now.

“Do you want kids?” He asks suddenly. “With me, I mean.”

You nearly let out a playful—who else do you think I’d let knock me up?—but he still has that far-away look on his face, so you pause. Swallowing air as you gather your thoughts. 

“I… don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it.” You answer honestly, and he nods. 

“I hadn’t thought about it either. Not until you.” He confesses. 

“Having you in my life will always be the most important thing, but I realized that I’d probably like to be a dad.” He says. “And after I realized that, I also realized that I didn’t have anything from my own childhood to pass on to them.” 

You nod, rendered breathless by the conversation. God, he’d be a good dad. 

“Both my parents were Cajun. I remember that my mother was devoutly Catholic, and she raised me to speak French in a time when that just wasn’t what you did.” He pauses, only to resume after taking a deep breath. “I know now that they were complicated people. I choose not to think about them anymore.” He says in a voice so soft you nearly wonder if your mind made it up.

You nod along, giving him space to speak whatever is on his mind. You don’t let yourself question, aloud or otherwise, why he doesn’t speak of his father. 

“That was a long time ago—and a lot of the language is lost on me now—but I wanted something…positive…to pass on if I ever had a kid.” He confesses. 

You give him a soft smile before taking his hand across the table. 

“You’ve clearly thought a lot about this, and while I haven’t yet, I will.” You say. 

The conversation has taken such an intense turn that you felt shaky as you rose from your seat to clean up the breakfast dishes. 

You fall into a lull of comfortable normalcy, though the bits of his history he revealed hang heavy in your mind as you load the dishwasher. 

“Is there anything in particular you want to pass on? Anything I should learn…just in case?” You ask gently as you wipe your hands dry. It was a simple, genuine question, though by the gentle but shocked look on his face, you might as well have gotten on one knee and asked for his hand in marriage.

“I’ll think about it,” he says with the slightest teasing tone. 

You smile, happy to know nothing is weighing too heavy on him, and things are back to business as usual once again. 

“There’s a lot I want to tell you and more that I should, but..”

“Hey,” you say calmly “there’s no pressure. If you want to wax poetic about your entire life story or you never want to speak about it again, it’s fine. Childhoods are weird, and what matters is who you become after it all.”

He settles back into the chair, staring at you with nothing my pure adoration. Still, something has his shoulders tense, and something tells you that it’s the same thing that has words lying on the tip of your tongue.

“You’re a good man, Beau. And you’d make an amazing father.”

He rises to his seat, folds his newspaper—left over right, top over bottom, always—and drops it on the table. Cherry oak. Pretty, solid wood.

He crosses the short distance between you and kisses your head like the good man and partner he is. Without another word, he drops back into his seat and assumes his previous position, though the tension he always holds in his shoulders gives way just a bit. Sunlight has barely begun to stream in through the large kitchen windows, casting the table you are both seated at in a fresh, golden glow. A comfortable silence stretches between you as you finish the last few bites of your breakfast. He’s leaning back in his chair, legs crossed, though his left hand lays casually against the table. As the minutes pass, your hand absentmindedly brushes against his. He glances up at you over his paper, his eyes filled with warmth as a hint of a smile plays on his lips. 

“I know you hate getting up this early, but I like being able to spend my mornings with you,” he says as he encircles your hand with his own, brushing the pads of his fingertips over your knuckles.  You look up at him, your swelling as his words sink in. Aside from the daily ‘I love you’ s, Beau isn’t someone who ever verbalizes his emotions. Though he has never once held back from showing you just how much he cares. 

“Me too,” you reply. Your hand squeezes his gently, a small gesture that confirms you recognize the gravity of his admission.

The smell of his black coffee lingers in the air as you hear the world outside begin to wake up. You sit happily in each other's presence for several moments longer. The world outside the window feels far away and almost meaningless compared to the cozy safe haven of his kitchen.

Suddenly, you feel his shift and reluctantly pull his hand from yours. You glance briefly at the clock, laughing as the numbers confirm that he has only minutes before he needs to leave for work. He rinses his mug and sets it on a tea towel, leaving it to dry. He swipes his bag off the counter and leans in for a full, proper kiss this time. You smile up at him as he pulls away, knowing that no matter what his day ahead holds, the moments you shared together over breakfast will tide him over until he can come back home to you.

taglist: @marchingicenotes7 @bayisdying @princessofglitterland @bella-law @callsignaries @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @shakira-sasha @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry @madamemelancholysstuff @paola-carter @barbiewritesstuff @dozcan123 @withakindheartx @nyx2021 @teti-menchon0604 @kmc1989

[fullofbees]

@pompeiisystem requested: #135 With Beel and a easily flustered mc? Please I'm begging I love the big himbo man with every inch of my heart lol

CW: Talking about masturbation

»»----------► GN!Reader

“Beel, look how many likes your devilgram photo got!” You cheer, showing the gluttonous demon your phone screen.

The post was meant to be inspirational, in a cheesy influencer way, at Asmo’s suggestion. The first showed Beelzebub before Fangol practice, sitting on a bench in the locker room. One hand is slipping on his cleats while the other shovels chips into his mouth. Swipe left, and you’ll find the after photo; Beel grinning in his sweat-drenched jersey, cheeks rosy from exercise, a towel slung across his shoulders. Nobody knows that he’s smiling because, behind the camera, you’re bribing him with food so he’ll stay still for the picture.

“We eatin’ good tonight, chat. Everyone say thank you Beel for the meal?” He reads aloud, head tilted in confusion.

Your eyes widen as you look back to the screen, noticing the top comment under the post. The replies are filled with equally thirsty comments and very suggestive emojis.

The heat of embarrassment starts at the tip of your ears, making its way down your face and neck. Of course, you agree wholeheartedly with the commenters. Beelzebub has no business being as attractive as he is; solid muscle that could hold you like it was nothing, large hands that are used to stuffing-

The demon interrupts your runaway thoughts, “Wait, what does that one say?” He points to another comment with a crumb-riddled finger.

“Oh! Um,” you hum, willing your eyes to focus on the text, “New... masturbation material...”

When you look at the demon, he is already distracted by the TV - an ad for a local restaurant. He doesn’t seem bothered at all.

“Sorry, are these not... weird to you?”

“Not really,” he says as he opens his next snack, “Everyone needs something to fantasize about.”

Don’t remind me. Too many nights have you spent alone in your bed, hand between your legs, fantasizing about the demon just down the hall from you. Would he be fast and rough, or would he take his time? Would he savor you like a delicacy, or would he devour you whole in his hunger? Why did the image of bruises in the shape of his bite excite you so damn much?

“I suppose you’re right,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. This is not a conversation you ever imagined having, nor did you expect Beel to be so nonchalant about it. Compared to your flustered state - if this were one of Levi’s manga, then blood would be dripping out of your nose right now - Beel is almost statuesque in his composure.

“I’ll be honest: I get off to the thought of you.”

Scratch that; blood would be pouring.

You’d bury your face in your hands if it weren’t for the fact that you’re frozen in shock. Beel’s calm demeanor cracks slightly; a faint blush blossoms on his face as he fidgets, one hand nervously clutching the other’s wrist.

Lips part to break the awkward silence, but your mind is blank, and any words mustered die in your throat. Excitement, lust, and anxiety overwhelm you in waves. The crash comes when your phone clatters to the floor, having slipped from your increasingly sweaty grip.

Both of you react, reaching for the device at your feet. Your fingers brush together, and you must bite your lip to keep yourself in check.

Beel doesn’t move, eyes fixed on the sight of his hand easily dwarfing yours. It isn’t until you clear your throat that he returns to wringing his wrist in worry.

Neither of you speak, yet neither of you leave. You begin to mirror Beel, fingers nervously picking at loose threads hanging from your sleeves. It takes a moment for your heart to settle, for your sinful curiosity to outweigh your apprehension.

Your voice is quiet, but not hesitant when you ask, “What do you think I taste like?”

Beel’s stomach roars in its familiar hunger.

“Will you let me find out?”

•••✦ ❤ ✦••• Submit A Request | Read on AO3 •••✦ ❤ ✦•••

A/N: Sorry there's no actual smut TvT but I love flirty dialogue that allows your mind to wander ;3

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

wait fuck ok i’m back to being sad about it now

like the thing is that ed doesn’t really hang out with anyone but stede in season one, not really. and whenever he is talking to other ppl on the crew, stede is right there. the only exception to this is in episode 8 when jack brings the party energy and everyone is getting drunk and rowdy together specifically as part of jack’s efforts to exclude stede.

and as a fandom we always make jokes and theorize about what the relationship between ed and stede must look like from the outside, if they were all placing bets for when they’d finally hook up or if they had zero belief in stede’s ability to pull THEE blackbeard

but now i’m thinking about the crew’s perception of Ed Himself. of the crew’s perceptions of The Legendary Blackbeard and how that must’ve changed over the course of the first season. because when they first meet him they’re all impressed and starstruck bc yeah, duh, this is Pirate Beyoncé we’re talking about. they’re also in varying degrees “worried he’s gonna kill them.”

but they quickly see that the real pirate beyonce isn’t all leather and murder and head made of smoke. blackbeard swaps clothes with their cringefail (derogatory) boss for fun. he dresses up and goes to a fancy party just because he wants to—he’s not even trying to get anything out of it, doesn’t have an angle the way frenchie does, he genuinely just wants to go to a very un-Blackbeardy party and have fun. he tells them scary stories. he shows them some of his trade blackbeard secrets. he hypes them all up after their first fuckery (and i will never get over how cute that is exchange is, “scared the pants off me” and “i thought blackbeard didn’t feel fear” and “and i didn’t, until tonight” and the crew’s genuine excitement and pride). he goes on a treasure hunt with their cringefail (affectionate, now) boss and lets him dig in the ground to get it out of his system. they learn that ed isn’t just a scary pirate, he also can be silly and goof off and enjoy things that aren’t exactly compatible’s with the Blackbeard Brand

and beyond just not adhering 24/7 to the Brand, they learn that ed—that blackbeard—is human. is fallible. they see his first plan to escape the spanish fail, and they get to participate in the backup plan that he and stede come up with. frenchie sees ed get hurt at the fancy party in a way that he completely understands. lucius realizes that ed is just as into his cringefail boss as his cringefail boss is into ed, and over the course of giving ed a shovel talk he maybe learns that The Legendary Blackbeard might actually be nervous about a boy liking him back.

and none of this—NONE of this—makes the crew lose any respect for him. even pete never has a moment where his perception of his idol is shattered, where he’s disappointed that blackbeard isn’t all nine guns and zero mercy all the time. instead, pete expands his idea of what The Ideal Pirate (the ideal MAN) looks like.

i think by the time jack rolls around, ed is no longer on that Pirate Beyoncé pedestal to them. he’s still on a pedestal, a bit, but instead of seeing ed as this untouchable badass legend, they see him as like. the coolest guy on the ship. still a badass, still somebody they all respect and admire, but someone they can hang out with. someone they really want to hang out with. they want to impress ed because they want him to like them, they want to be his friend. and yeah, it’s played as a “your father and i are getting a divorce but we still love you very much” joke, but they really are so sad when ed leaves with jack.

and ed showing up with no beard and no stede, ed hiding in his cabin for. a day? multiple days? ed singing a song about his feelings. ed saying he no longer wants to go by blackbeard.

the crew is confused, but they’re on board. they don’t laugh at him for his (bad) singing, they don’t think less of him now that he’s sans iconic beard. ed, to them, is still The Coolest Guy On The Ship, and they want to be his friend. they’re excited to be his friend.

they want to put on a talent show.

and ed, right after getting stabbed in the back by jack and izzy, and then stede, and then izzy again—ed, who was so affected by the jeers of the rich fuckers at that fancy party, who grew up in a culture that doesn’t allow for friendship, a culture of everyone in various stages of fucking each other over—can’t see that. he’s got fresh heartbreak and fresh betrayal that are compounding on years of trauma and he hears them all chanting his name and he can’t trust this crew. he couldn’t trust his first mate, and he couldn’t trust his old shipmate, and he couldn’t trust stede. he cannot, cannot risk vulnerability with the crew. not again.

(and like, cmon, who is ed even kidding? he’s not made for things like softness and friendship and genuine camaraderie. trying to be anything other than blackbeard is like a wolf trying to fit in a sheep’s clothing, but the clothing is too small and everyone can see right through him and they’re all laughing and laughing and he’s the only one who can’t see what a joke he is. ed’s not an idiot, he knows there’s no way the crew is up their chanting his name and asking for another song because they like him. they just want the great clown pagliacci to come out and make them laugh.

so sure, ed’ll give them a show. they think ed’s funny? well he’s about to be fucking hilarious.)

EDIT: those of y’all seeing this in the ofmd tags are missing the additions where it gets even sadder

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part four)

(part one)(part two)(part three)

Eddie wakes from a thankfully dreamless sleep, his head on his pillow now, which is somehow far less comfortable than Steve’s solid chest. Speaking of… Eddie looks around; Steve isn’t there at all anymore, and Eddie is alone. He’s disappointed, though not entirely surprised, that Harrington’s left him again despite his promises. 

In fact, he’s honestly more surprised when less than two minutes into his wallowing in the empty room, the door is pushed open by none other than Steve Harrington carrying two trays of food, one balanced on each hand like a goddamn waiter. It’s kind of adorable, actually, Eddie thinks, and that thought surprises him a little too. 

“Oh, you’re awake! Good morning.” Steve sets one of the trays on Eddie’s lap. His smile is bright, though there’s a slight, uncertain wobble to it. “Shitty hospital food and shitty hospital TV, right?” 

“Right.” Eddie’s face breaks into a grin, something light unfurling in his chest. He glances at the plate of gross food on his lap then back up at Steve, and he admits, “You know, for a second there I thought you’d left again.” 

Steve shakes his head as he settles into the chair beside the bed with his own tray. “I promised you I’d hang out today. I’m a man of my word.”

“Good.” Eddie smiles and grabs a remote off the bedside table, turning on the TV. “Now for our mealtime entertainment, let’s see what’s on the shitty TV today.”

The television starts blaring some old black-and-white rerun of I Love Lucy. Eddie’s immediately about to change the channel, but then he notices the way Steve’s eyes have lit up. “Hey, that’s not shitty TV!” Steve says. “I used to watch this with my mom all the time when I was a kid.” 

Eddie snorts. “Of course you did.”  

Steve gives him an indignant look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” Eddie shakes his head evasively, shoveling a forkful of rubbery scrambled eggs into his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything else. 

Steve just rolls his eyes, almost affectionately, like they’ve had conversations like this before. He chews on a flimsy piece of bacon and makes a face, nose scrunching up. “Ugh, you really weren’t kidding about the shitty food, though.” 

“Nope,” Eddie laughs, “I really wasn’t. Thanks for catering it though.” He swallows down another mouthful of food, and then adds with a little less levity, “And, uh, thanks for last night, too - for calming me down. Don’t think I’ve said that yet.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Steve gives a small smile, shrug, slight shake of his head, a tiny pinch between his brows like he doesn't quite get why Eddie even feels the need to thank him for that. “That's what I’m here for. I just hope I didn't cross any boundaries or anything, holding onto you like that.” 

Now it's Eddie's turn to give him a confused little smile and a head shake. “No, of course not. That was exactly what I needed.” He attempts to add some humor back into the conversation, jokingly quips, “Although, to be fair, I never did think that King Steve would ever be caught dead in a bed with The Freak.”

Steve had hazarded another bite of his breakfast, trying the eggs this time, only to choke on it at Eddie’s comment. He coughs, hits his fist against his chest, and hurriedly takes a sip from the water bottle on his tray. 

“Jesus.” Eddie tries not to take offense, assuming Steve’s reaction to be one of disgust at the double entendre. “That bad of a thought, huh?” 

Steve shakes his head and clears his throat, face flushed. “No, no, it’s not that, man. Food just went down the wrong pipe, is all.” 

“Uh huh…” 

“Seriously.” Steve gulps down some more water, quiet for a moment before adding, “You know I’m not King Steve anymore, right? Haven’t been for a while now, since even long before your memories end.” 

“Yeah, I know. You ditched Tommy H. and Carol your junior year, and then Nancy Wheeler dumped you and Billy Hargrove stole your crown and bashed your face in your senior year, I remember,” Eddie recalls. “But for the most part you were still well-known and well-liked, still this popular, pretty, rich boy jock all the girls still drooled over, so.” He shrugs. “Always figured ‘King’ still fit.” 

“Right…” Steve raises his eyebrows as Eddie lists off these events of his life, looking at him with a smirk of barely-hidden amusement. “I forgot you were obsessed with me.”  

Eddie’s jaw drops in exaggerated offense. “I was not obsessed with you.” 

“Were too,” Steve taunts.

“Was not.” 

“Were too.” 

“Was not.” Eddie chucks a piece of bacon at him. 

Steve gasps indignantly as the bacon slaps him in the face and tumbles onto his lap. “You child!” But he’s laughing, retaliates by flinging a forkful of eggs back at Eddie. 

The conversation devolves into a full-on food fight, shrieking and cackling as they pelt each other with flying bits of eggs and bacon. It turns out shitty hospital food serves far better as ammunition than it does as anything actually edible. 

A nurse chooses the exact wrong time to decide to come in and check on Eddie, walking into the room at just the right moment to be caught in the crossfire and hit with a stray chunk of egg. Both boys freeze. 

“Uh oh…” Eddie mutters under his breath. Just his luck - it’s not the young, nice nurse, Katie, who always laughs at his jokes, but Nurse Margaret, the old, mean one who he’s never once seen crack a smile. She flicks the egg bit off her shoulder, leveling them with a stern frown as she marches over. 

Eddie casts a furtive glance at Steve who looks back at him, lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh again, and Eddie feels mirth bubbling back up in his own chest too. He has to look away from Steve again before he loses it. 

He sucks his lips in, clamping them together between his teeth to hold in his laughter, and he stares up at Margaret with a thin-lipped, guilty, upside down smile as she chides them both for making a mess and scolds Eddie for exerting himself and risking reopening his wounds. Steve mumbles an apology and starts cleaning up the scattered bits of food strewn about the room while Margaret double checks that Eddie hasn’t, in fact, reopened his wounds or gotten worse in any way. Once the nurse is satisfied with both the state of the room and the state of Eddie, she whisks away what’s left of their food trays and stalks out of the room with one last disapproving look over her shoulder.

Then and only then does Eddie risk eye-contact with Steve again, and the two of them immediately burst back into laughter. Steve nearly doubles over with it, leaning against the trash can where he’d just been dusting off his hands. “Oh my god,” he chuckles out. “Her face when I hit her with that egg? I was so sure she was gonna kick me out.” 

“Nearly gave mean old Margaret an aneurysm, and that was just from hitting her shoulder,” Eddie snickers. “Imagine if you hit her in the eye or something.” 

Steve does his best impression of Margaret’s angry scowl and reproachful huff, and Eddie cackles. He laughs so hard his sides ache and his injuries hurt, wounds aggravated by the movement of his laughter, but he doesn’t care, the pain far too distant beneath the cushion of painkillers and positive emotion he currently feels so high on. 

“You’ve still got some egg in your hair,” Steve notices with another amused snort as he pushes himself away from the trash can and approaches Eddie’s bed again. He plucks the offending bit of food out of Eddie’s curls and smooths down the hair where it had been stuck. “There.” 

Steve’s fingertips brush ever so lightly against Eddie’s cheek when he fixes his hair. It sends a pleasant sort of shiver down Eddie’s spine, turning his laughter to breathless giggles just for a moment. “Thanks.”

Steve flicks the egg chunk into the trash before sinking back into the bedside chair with a soft sigh and a warm smile. “God, I missed this,” he says, “just laughing with you.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie returns the grin. For him, of course, this is the first time they’ve laughed together like this, but he has to admit he’s already rather fond of it. “Can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed that hard.”

Steve’s smile turns nostalgic, like he can remember the last time Eddie laughed like that, like he was there for it. “It’s a good look on you - laughter,” he says, so quietly Eddie almost feels like maybe it wasn’t meant for him to hear. And Eddie can’t help but think that laughter is a pretty good look on Steve too, all rosy cheeks and shining eyes.

“How did we become friends?” Eddie asks, before his previous thought can take any sort of root. 

The nostalgia in Steve’s expression only grows. “It was the beginning of June, start of summer, probably only a few weeks after your memories stop. I was working at the Scoops Ahoy in Starcourt, that new mall that had just opened, and you wandered in,” he says, looking at Eddie with a teasing glint to his eyes, “because you were obsessed with me-”

“Was not,” Eddie protests immediately.

“Were too,” Steve laughs. “Anyways, you saw me in my stupid little sailor uniform trying and very obviously failing to chat up a girl at the counter, and you came in just to laugh at me, actually.” 

“Okay, that does sound like me,” Eddie concedes with a grin. He probably walked in there just for the sailor costume alone, if he’s being honest with himself. That’s something he’d kill to see - just for a good laugh, of course. “Do you still have that uniform? It might, you know, jog my memory a little if you were to bring it in one day,” he suggests slyly. 

“You and that uniform, man,” Steve scoffs and shakes his head like this is something they’ve talked about many, many times before, enough for it to become a predictable sort of annoyance, a longsuffering inside joke. “No, I don’t still have it. Threw it out first chance I had, not to mention it got totally ruined when the- uh, when the mall burned down.” 

Eddie’s eyes go slightly wide. “The mall burned down? While you were there?” 

“Yeah- well, sort of,” Steve falters, a shadow falling over his expression, and he shakes his head again. “It’s kind of a long story, and not the one I’m telling right now.” 

“Right, yeah, shit.” Eddie waves his hand as if to erase everything he’d said before. “Forget I mentioned it.” He, more than anyone, understands not wanting to relive bad memories right now. “Continue the other story. How did we go from me making fun of you to us being besties?”

The shadow lifts as Steve returns to that memory. “Oh, yeah. I told you the show wasn’t free and that you needed to order something or leave. So you bought a milkshake, which I somehow managed to end up completely spilling all over the both of us when I tried to hand it to you. You were livid,” he chuckles, “thought I’d done it on purpose, even though I definitely hadn’t. I felt so bad I insisted on helping you clean up. You were icy about it, but you let me show you to the sink in the backroom and accepted the jacket I lent you so you wouldn’t have to walk around with ice cream stains on your shirt all day.” 

“That’s quite the meet-cute,” Eddie jokes. “Are you sure you’re describing our friendship and not some rom-com chick flick you watched last week?” 

“Nah, true story, honest. It wasn’t a rom-com,” Steve says, and though he smiles, there’s an odd sadness to it too. He shakes his head and continues, “Anyways, you clearly warmed up to me after that because you came back the next day to return the jacket and apologize for being a bit of a dick before, and then you gave me this whole ‘you’re actually a good dude’ speech and told me to give you a call if I ever wanted to split a joint or something. I took you up on it that same night; it had been a rough day at work and I figured why not, so I came over and we smoked and we talked and we got along like a house on fire - better than either of us expected, I think. And that was our thing, then, after that - smoking and talking. Sometimes weed, sometimes just cigarettes, and sometimes we just smoked and didn’t talk, and then sometimes we just talked and didn’t smoke; until eventually we started doing other things together too besides just talking and smoking, we were just hanging out. At that point we were friends, practically inseparable, and then we-” Steve stops himself, a shade of melancholy reentering his dim smile once more. “We only got closer from there.” 

“That sounds nice…” Eddie tries to remember it, really digs deep in his mind for any sort of spark of memory or recognition in Steve’s words, but it’s empty. It all just sounds like a story to him, doesn’t settle anywhere real. It’s a good story, sure, one he’d like to experience, one he aches to connect with, but a story nonetheless, only words, only fiction. “I wish I could remember that.” 

“Me too,” Steve says, and Eddie hates how sad he looks, hates even more that he’s the cause of it. 

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to make new memories, then!” Eddie declares with a theatrical amount of enthusiasm as he flashes Steve a bright grin, all in the hopes of chasing that sadness back off of his face. “Won’t we, my friend?” 

Success; Steve seems a little startled by Eddie’s sudden gusto, but he laughs and smiles, the real kind this time that shines in his eyes again. “Yeah, I guess we will.”

Eddie does his best to keep the conversation away from their past after that, not only in an attempt to keep the light in Steve’s expression but for his own sake too. It’s a strange thing to be reminded of the fact that he shares a history with someone and has no memory of it, to be around someone who seems to know everything about him while he feels as though they’ve only just met.

For the most part, hanging out with Steve is nice and fun and easy - there’s something so natural, familiar, about the way they talk, the way they banter, the way they sit together even in the silences. But sometimes Eddie will say something that makes a sadness flicker in Steve’s eyes again, or sometimes Steve will say something that makes Eddie wonder just what secrets this guy knows about him and his skin crawls with that old discomfited itch. They’re both quick with a joke, a redirection, whenever the other’s expression falters, though, like Steve is trying to make sure Eddie doesn’t feel uncomfortable just as much as Eddie is trying to make sure Steve doesn’t feel sad. 

Other visitors come in and out of Eddie’s room that day too: Dustin stops by with a portable cassette player and some newer heavy metal albums that came out during the period Eddie no longer remembers, which brings more than one source of entertainment as it also incurs Nurse Margaret’s wrath again when they listen to it too loud. Wayne drops in with some actually edible fast food for lunch and a deck of cards, playing a few rounds of a few games. Nurse Katie checks in on him to redress his wounds and she laughs at his stories of annoying Margaret. Even Steve has to leave a couple times, says he has errands to run or needs to pick up Robin from work, but he promises to be back each time and each time he is. 

Night has fallen now, and it’s just Eddie and Steve again, Steve sitting, as always, beside Eddie’s bed as they watch whatever cheesy old movie is playing on TV while Eddie fights off sleep. He fears it still; each wave of drowsiness that washes over him is met with a shiver in his heart that breathes ice into his veins and freezes him awake. 

After about Eddie’s hundredth attempt to suppress a yawn, Steve turns off the TV and looks at him. “Are you tired?” 

“No,” Eddie says, only for his lie to be almost immediately undermined by another traitorous yawn. “Alright, yeah, I am, but- I don’t want to sleep,” he admits. “I don’t want to dream.”

“Oh.” Steve’s gaze softens, sympathetic. For the first time unprompted, not waiting for a nightmare or for Eddie to ask like he always had before, Steve moves closer and takes Eddie’s hand. “I’ve got you, you know,” he says, the statement fierce in its sincerity. “It’ll be alright. I’ll fight off your nightmares with my bare hands if I have to.” 

Steve’s hand is warm against the chill in Eddie’s blood, the heat of his skin seeping in to thaw his fear. “I don’t think a nightmare is something you can fight,” Eddie says, cracking a smile, but looking at Steve now, he can almost believe it. 

There’s a new sort of spark in Steve’s eyes, protective, devoted, and it burns the way a fire in the hearth of a home burns, like something dangerous made safe just for him. Eddie suddenly doesn’t doubt, somehow, that Steve could fight off anything, even something as intangible as a nightmare, if it was threatening Eddie. With Steve here holding his hand, he somehow doesn’t doubt that not a single thing can hurt him. Not a single thing would even dare try. 

And not a single thing does. 

No nightmares make their way into Eddie’s mind that night, no bad memories stir in his subconscious. That night, instead, he dreams of Steve.

(part five!) taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies. please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list)

[onepiece-fics]

Sanji x picky eater!Reader

Description: Reader is a picky eater and doesn’t dare to tell Sanji. The chef, however, needs to get to the bottom of why you’re giving Luffy all your shrimp. Gender-neutral reader.

Word Count: 1187 

Warnings: Slight angst (mostly fluff though), Sanji is very flirty, mentions of difficult food habits.

Requested by anon<3

You feel bad about it, but as you sit by the dinner table you can’t help but pick at some of the food on your plate. Dinner for tonight was shrimp paella, cooked by the amazing chef himself. Of course, anyone who knew of Sanji knew how amazing he was at cooking, there was no question about it, but having been born a picky eater you felt immense guilt with how you felt about some of his food. You hadn’t even told him the things that you can’t bring yourself to eat, scared that he would take offense, or maybe even try to force you to eat it like so many other people had tried in the past. 

You tried to pick away the shrimp on your plate and focus on the rice and vegetables instead, but of course, knowing that it had touched the shrimp was enough to put you off. 

“Ah? Y/N? Are you not having your shrimp? Can I have it?” the enthusiastic captain asks you from across the table. You nod and with a blush on your face, you shovel off the shrimp from your plate to his. You notice Sanji looking at the two of you from afar, and not being able to read his face makes you nervous. Is he taking offense? Do you look silly? Is he gonna think you’re being childish? You sigh and continue trying to eat the rice and veggies on your plate. 

When dinner was done Sanji came to pick up everyone’s plates like he usually did but when he came over to you he gave you a look.

“Could you please stay for a while Y/N? I’d like to talk to you for a minute” he says, a slight smile on his lip but a confusing look in his eyes. You nod and stay in your chair as everyone else leaves. When you notice he’s moving to wash the dishes you rush up and silently offer him your help. He starts handing you the wet dishes to dry off and stack neatly. 

“Do you not like shrimp?” he says suddenly, breaking the silence between you. You tense up a little, unsure what to say.

“Uhm, yeah, sorry, I’m not really that big on seafood in general…” you say quietly. He stops what he’s doing and looks at you, eyebrows raised.

“Why haven't you told me, Y/N? I don't want to make you food that you won’t enjoy… I’ll happily modify your dinner for your tastes!” he gives you a big smile and your face heats up. “Wait… Do you also not like eggs? And… Broccoli? Oh, and the spinach!” he says, his fist hitting his palm like he finally understood something. Your face is fully flushed and it’s so warm you swear Sanji could actually cook a full meal on it at this point.

“I- I’m so sorry Sanji. I know I should’ve told you a while ago but-! I can be really picky with food sometimes and it’s like super embarrassing and I don’t want to be rude or insult your cooking- and I don’t want you to think I’m childish or something either. It’s just how my tastebuds work! I can’t help it but I’m really so sorry, I’ll try to learn to eat those things, I promise!” You ramble suddenly, catching the chef off-guard. He looks at you with big eyes and moves to put his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N…” he starts. “You don’t have to worry my dear, I know you would never intentionally be rude or anything. I have been worrying for a while that maybe my cooking skills had gone downhill… But this explains it all!” his hand moves from your shoulder to cup your cheek.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, everyone’s tastebuds are different and I totally get that. We all have things that we can’t stand to eat, if you just write me a list of things you don’t like I promise to make you the best food you can imagine, alright?” he smiles at you. You just stare at him in shock, a single teardrop falling from your eye which he quickly catches with his thumb. 

“S-Sanji… Are you sure it’s alright?” you ask him and he chuckles. 

“I’d much rather cook you food that you genuinely enjoy than keep feeding you things you just hand off to Luffy” he teases you. He pulls you in for a hug and kisses the top of your head. “I could never judge you Y/N, you’re way too kind to me for that” he whispers as you put your arms around him. 

Your emotions suddenly sweep over you and before you know it, you’re staining his suit with your tears. Even though you knew how kind Sanji was, a part of you thought that he was going to react the same way people had in the past. Far from everyone is kind to those who struggle with picky eating, no matter the reason for it happening in the first place. The fact that he was even offering to cook you your own personalized meals… You pull away from him, cringing as you see the wet spot on his shoulder from your tears.

“I’m sorry about that…” you sniffle and it makes him laugh. The sound of it brings you to a smile and you giggle with him. He takes one of your hands in his and raises your chin with the other one. 

“Now. No more being shy about food habits, alright?” his smile is dazzling and it leaves you breathless. You nod for a response and he smiles and leans closer to you. “I really mean it Y/N. If I get to cook extra food for such a beauty as you… It only brings me joy” he whispers. You bite your lip when you realize the position you’re both in. You leaning against the kitchen counter with him in front of you, leaning into you more and more. A blush spreads across your cheeks again and you gulp. You’re just about to lean up when– 

“Y/N!!!!” Chopper barges into the kitchen, opening the door wide open, scaring both you and Sanji shitless. He jumps off of you, hastily moving to do the dishes once again. “Usopp needs you! He’s convincing Luffy not to prank call the Marines! Please help us!” Chopper begs you. With your hand covering your blush the best you can, you look back at Sanji, a blush spread over his cheeks too, before giving a nod to the doctor.

“I- I’ll be right there Chopper! Steal the den den mushi if you have to!” you tell him. Chopper nods and runs back to wherever the captain is.

You look back at Sanji who’s shaking with laughter as he’s rinsing out a plate. 

“I’m expecting a note with all your least favorite foods by tomorrow” he tells you and winks. You nod and awkwardly move to leave the kitchen.

“Oh, and that note better include your favorite foods too, by the way. I want to make you only your favorite meals from now”. 

[wttcsms]

and so a touch that was my birth right became foreign, satoru gojo

with hands blessed with the technique that enables you to feel the most likely future for the person you're touching, it's easy to see why you don't want to touch satoru when he comes back. even if he doesn't know his own ending, all he knows is that he would like to feel your touch even if it's for the last time. so you let him. (wc 1k) content contains satoru gojo x reader, slight angst, allusions to jjk 261 leak, some fluff, possible hurt/(no) comfort (depending on how you look at it), humanizing gojo

“You’re worried about me,” he rolls over in bed, bluer-than-blue eyes staring into yours. “It’s written all over your face.”

“No, I’m not. This is my ‘you’re hogging all the blankets’ face.” You retort, yanking the bedsheets closer to you. You try to make yourself more comfortable, but it’s no use — you only sleep well when you’re snuggled up by Satoru’s side, but the idea of touching him, the effects of what will happen when you do, serves as a good enough deterrent. 

“No. It’s your ‘I suck at keeping a secret’ face.” 

“Well, that face and my ‘worried about you’ face are two entirely different expressions. So, even if you’re right, you’re still wrong.” 

Usually, he would laugh at your logic. Nowadays, there’s not much laughter to spare. Just intense gazes that cut you to the bone, deep enough to leave a mark on your soul, yet soft enough for you to momentarily forget the pain that comes with it. You like to make comments about his eyes; not his Six Eyes, but his. The ones that are uniquely and wholly his own. You want to drown into his eyes, the prettiest, rarest shade of blue that only he could pull off. You know he knows that you think this, which is precisely why you have no issue with telling him he needs to get brown contacts for bedtime because his irises practically glow in the dark. 

Our bodies are built by memories. It’s why your fingers twitch, confused as to why Satoru is so close to you, close enough to touch, and yet, there’s still a distance between you two. Your hands know him well — know him the best of all. Your fingers, the ones that have ran through his hair so many times before, may share the same color as many other members of his clan but the stubbornness of his hair is all his own. You would tease him; tell him that his hair is just like him: annoying, with its own mind, its own will. His hair is coarser than it looks, and sometimes, you can still feel remnants of hardened hair gel when he gets too tired to wash it all off properly. (On those nights, you’ll wash it off for him.)

The sharpness of his cheekbones have been traced by the tips of your fingers. Gaunt when he’s so laser focused on work, but full when he’s shoveling food into his mouth. You like the sight of Satoru gorging himself on daifuku; so rarely does he give into greed, and there’s a boyish glow to him when he’s unable to speak because of the sheer amount of mochi he has in his mouth, looking annoyingly cute with his chipmunk cheeks. 

“You don’t want to touch me because you’re scared.” Of course, Satoru doesn’t shy away from confrontation. You suppose it’s for the best. The fact that he let you go this long without him calling you out on your behavior isn’t surprising, though. He always puts the feelings of others before his own. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

Satoru doesn’t need the Six Eyes to see through you. He just needs to use his own. 

“Did you really think it wasn’t?” is what he says.

“I just— Knowing the future is worse than the not-knowing.” Your voice cracks during the explanation, but he doesn’t comment yet. He waits patiently for you to continue, even though you already had this breakdown in front of him before, a lifetime ago. When the two of you were just students and he sneakily pulled off your gloves and placed his hand around yours. Back then, his touch had been brimming with life. It had shocked your system, your soul. Every touch exchanged from him since then had felt the same, more or less.

You’re worried that you won’t get that familiar feeling this time around. 

“Because not-knowing leaves space for hoping.” He finishes for you. You blink, and suddenly he’s closer, and you want to cry. You want him to be this close to you forever, and you know that that is one future path that not even the strings of fate will entertain. 

“I’m worried about you.” You whisper out this confession, and Satoru’s lips part. He looks like he’s about to joke around, to say “aha! I knew it!”, but he doesn’t. There’s a defeated sort of air to him when he tells you,

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m Satoru Gojo, after all.” The smile he gives you is a good imitation of his genuine one, but you can see through him just as easily as he does you. 

“I can’t worry about Satoru Gojo?” 

“You would waste time and precious tears over the strongest?”

It’s true that his strength is a big part of him, but it’s not his entire being. People chase after the reason for their existence all the time, while Satoru’s been told his entire life that being blessed with his strength is the sole cause for his existence. Satoru knows what his designated purpose is; no one’s ever given him any room for doubt or an opportunity to pursue another path. He could argue that the not-knowing your purpose in life is a whole lot more fun than actually knowing. 

“Who’s going to keep that daifuku shop in Osaka open if you’re gone?” And it’s such an unserious statement to make, a statement that has reduced you to a wet puddle of tears, but it’s genuine. 

You don’t care about the strongest dying.

You care about him dying.

With the same disregard for your personal space he had back in high school, Satoru takes your hand and laces his fingers through yours. You’re crying, and you can register the warmth of his physical body, but there’s a foreignness in his touch that you don’t recognize, a touch that your hand engraved with memories of him can’t quite seem to remember. It scares you, because you’ve never felt this before. You’re gripping his hand even tighter, as if trying to force his familiar presence to steady you, but there’s no use.

When you touch Satoru, you cannot feel his future. You can’t feel him.

[writingfromasgard]

Waldeinsamkeit pt 2[König]

[Masterlist] || Requests || More Konig || Part 1

gif source

Synopsis: König and his forest decide to keep you.

König shudders as the trees of his forest swayed, telling him the sweet one with the tree babies had returned. He found you in another clearing that had been decimated by mankind, attempting to unearth a decaying stump with your meager strength and a metal shovel. He watches you struggle before making his presence known, snapping a dead twig between his fingers.

It's cute how it startles you, he thinks.

He approaches you, touching the stump which rapidly decays into fresh soil - roots and all. Your eyes look up at him with wonder. He crouches beside you, digging his claws into the soil to make way for the sapling you've grown for his forest.

"Thank you." You speak politely, planting a sickly looking sapling in the soil. "This one isn't doing well and I read that rotting wood can help plants thrive."

His claws carefully lift the leaves of the sapling, studying it for a moment. He yanks his hand back unexpectantly and growls, anger flooding him. Your body leans away from him, eyes wide with fear again.

"Poison." He hisses, ripping it out of the gown and tossing it aside.

"Poison?" Your lips curve into a frown. "I'm not trying to poison the forest."

His claws reach for your chin, dragging you to look at him. His eyes are boring into yours, trying to choose the correct words - he didn't make contact nearly enough to fully speak your language.

He settles on, "Not my tree."

"Not your tree.." Your brows furrow, gears turning behind your eyes as you try to understand. "It doesn't belong here."

König lets go of your chin, patting the top of your head like he'd seen other humans do. "Good."

You shift your basket, full of saplings in various states of growth. "Can you tell me which ones I shouldn't plant?"

He takes little time, tearing the invasive ones in half and tossing them over his shoulder. Your basket is still halfway full, pleasing him. He stops with the last one, holding up a tree from his forest beside it.

He shoves them in your face, hoping you see the difference in their leaves and color. You gently take one then the other, looking at both of them.

"Bad." He tapped the grotesque one - lighter color leaves, lighter stem.

König prowls the ground around you, keeping an eye on which saplings you're planting to ensure none of the poison tries to take root in his forest. Sunlight grows sparse between the canopy as you finish planting the last sapling.

He watches you brush the dirt off your hands, leaving dark smudges on your clothing. Your contented smile tells him you're done for the day as you pick up your basket. Your smaller limbs creak and pop as you stretch, ready for the walk back home. He wants you to stay.

His forest groans and shifts when you go to leave. It calls out to you, roots and branches alike trying to grasp at you. Your feet stumble over a root. His hands are quick to reach out, catching you before you can fall.

With his hands curled around your waist, purring with satisfaction when you're pressed tightly against him. "You can't leave."

"Why can't I? I've left before." You question, relaxing in his grip.

"Forest wants to keep you. I want to keep you." He nudges your cheek with his, making that same purring sound. "Our - K̵̼̍̓̀͝į̶̲̟̒͠n̴͒̒͊̚͜d̵͎̺̟̄ͅè̶̱͇̠̌ř̷̢̞̠̐̀͜͝ need you."

Confusion is evident in your features. Rather than wait for you to ask more questions, König lifts you, carefully placing you on his shoulder to easily carry you to his home deeper in the forest.

The path twists and turns so frequently that he doubts you will escape the forest before he finds you again. The trees along the path rustle with approval. He stops at a large tree with carvings in the wood before he sets you down.

"Home." He simply says, shoving open the door.

The air is filled with the scent of earth and moss inside. Your nervous glances settle soon into wonderment. He lets you walk around, exploring the small inside. You approach his bed and a familiar ache builds in him.

"This is your home?" You ask, sitting down on the soft moss bedding.

"Our home." He corrects.

He reaches out tentatively, lifting your chin with one of his claws like he's done so many times before to get your attention. He leans down, making gentle contact with your lips. He was only attempting to understand more of your language when your hands came up, pulling him in deeper.

König sinks into it, his magic dancing across your lips and then your tongue when you gasp. His instincts force him to step forward, making you fall backward onto the mossy bed.

He hovers over you, humming with a need that is quickly becoming an ache. His claws graze down your sides, making you arch into his chest. His tongue lolls out, licking his own lips. He leans down, blue eyes staring at you. He can smell something sweet coming from you that he wants to consume.

With a few movements, you're removing the protective layers you wear against the elements, baring yourself to his gaze. That sweet smell grows without your clothing, making his mouth water with hunger.

His head dips between your legs where the smell is the strongest and his tongue laps between your thighs, purring yet again. The tangy taste that coats his tongue is delightful. Your hips move against his tongue so his hands hold them down while he drinks his fill.

Your breath hitches as König's tongue slithers deeper, finding a better source for the taste inside you. The heat around his tongue makes his chest rumble, his cock begins to harden. He watches as your hands claw at the moss beneath you, his magic slowly filling the space he's invading. You loudly cry out then he feels muscles tightly clenching around his tongue.

Your body trembles under him as he climbs over you. His hands fumble to grab hold of himself, memories of humans that would press tightly against each other. Their bottoms moving up and down..

König settles between your legs, poking the tip between your legs. He grumbles, unsure how this feels good to anyone when his cock is hardly making contact. Your hands reach down, grasping him.

"Let me help." You say, voice breathless.

He allows it, body tensing at the feel of your hands touching him there. His eyes watch your squirm to the edge, biting your bottom lip. Heat engulfs him and his hips buck forward, the need for more filling him.

His hands plant beside your hips, grunts leaving him. Your hands leave his length the more he works into you. Your groaning beneath him, clutching his arms.

The pleasure is intoxicating - filling his head with how hot, tight you are around his throbbing cock. Your legs hook on his waist, enabling him to bury all the way.

He lowers his head, licking at your neck. Your body shifts each time his pull-push motions happen. You mewl and arch up against him. His tongue flicks across a nipple on your chest, enjoying the sounds coming from your lips.

Sweat is forming on your skin as he continues on, digging his fingers deeper into the moss bedding. You're as beautiful as the forest around you - sweaty, pleasure stricken, and crying out.

König purs as he feels you clench around him. The sounds you're making turn to screams, your legs locking him in deep. He haunches over your body, drool dripping on your chest. His cock swells before flooding you with his seed.

He keeps thrusting deeper into you, butting against your cervix to make it welcome his cum. It feels too good to stop. His hips keep moving, dragging along your already sensitive nerves. You're crying out, hands shoving at his broad chest.

"Again." König grunts out.

[kelcemenow]

Anything.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2539

Warnings Strong language, some fluff and lots and lots of smut. I went a bit heavy on the foreplay but I just can't help myself!

Another anon request that I just had to do! "Hi there. I loved your most recent fic and was wondering if you would be willing to write a smut where the reader (female) promised travis that if he won the superbowl that he could do anything he wanted to her?"

"Anything?" Travis' eyes widened and his mouth gaped open slightly.

"Anything." You repeated, but without the questioning tone. "You win that Superbowl baby, and you can do anything to me."

Travis froze for a second before laughing and rubbing the back of his neck, "Oh baby, you don't know what you've done."

You leaned forward so you were only inches away from his face, "And when I say anything, I mean anything."

His eyes darkened and he leaned in to kiss you but when his lips grazed yours, you pulled back and continued eating your dinner. Travis' eyebrows lowered in confusion.

You pointed your fork to his plate, "Eat your dinner big guy, you've got an important game next week."

Travis didn't move for a second or so, keeping his gaze on you, hoping for a change of heart. You continued eating your chicken, not making eye contact with him. After a moment, Travis breathed out a laugh and started shovelling his food quickly into his mouth.

"Right, I've finished, can I have a kiss now?" He pushed his lips out.

You smiled at his begging expression, placing your hand under his chin and bringing his face to yours for a gentle kiss. Travis hummed in contentment before you leaned back and returned to your plate, flipping the page of your magazine.

"You're going to be sorry. You'd better have a strong coffee on the morning, baby. Imma have you up all night." His eyes lowered down your body.

You continued to read your magazine, "You're that confident that you're going to win?"

"Baby! Do you know who I am? I am the-"

"Yes, yes, the fastest tight end to reach 10,000 receiving yards." You said quickly, "Now, could you add another few yards and get the laundry out of the dryer, please?"

Travis shook his head and laughed, "You keep me humble, babe."

You smiled down at the article you were reading. You liked to keep Travis on his toes and he enjoyed your playfulness. You had been dating for around a year, so it was still relatively the early stage of your relationship. You met soon after the previous season, as a friend of Isabelle Butker, the wife of Travis' Chiefs teammate Harrison. She had invited you to a barbeque at her house and you spotted Travis.

"Isabelle, who's that?"

He was chatting to some other players excitedly.

"Oh, that's Travis." Isabelle nodded as she opened a beer from the cooler, "He's great, I think you two would get along, actually."

You narrowed your eyes, "If you're saying what I think you're saying, no way."

"What?" Her head snapped up quickly, "What do you mean? I'm an excellent matchmaker!"

"That guy you set me up with a couple of months ago? He ordered a salad for me and then started lecturing me about why women should stay and home and take care of the children instead of go to work!"

"Okay, okay...fair enough. But seriously, just go and talk to him."

You picked up your glass of wine and looked over towards him. He was talking enthusiastically with a couple of guys you recognised. He seemed to be focused on the conversation but his eyes suddenly found yours and you felt your breath hitch as he smiled before continuing with his discussion.

You tilted your head to the side, "Hmm, I think I might."

That was almost a year ago. And now you were in your home in Kansas City, getting ready to leave for a week in Arizona for the lead up to the Superbowl. Travis didn't seem nervous, but you knew there was still time. This was the biggest game of the season He had won in 2020, but lost the year after. You really wanted him to win his second ring, to experience the celebration with him. You knew it would be a difficult game for him as he was playing against his brother, Jason, meaning the entire Kelce family were there and the result, whatever it was, would be bittersweet for whoever was on the losing team.

After you had finished dinner, both you and Travis checked over your bags that you had packed for the week in Arizona, but your thoughts were consumed with what plans Travis had for his winning night.

______________________________________________________________

Your heart was in your mouth as the red and gold confetti filled the sky. The stadium erupted into noise and the entire viewing suite jumped to their feet. Patrick Mahomes' wife Brittany threw her arms around you and Isabella grabbed onto both of your hands as she jumped repeatedly in the air.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" You screamed as you could feel tears forming between your eyelids.

Isabella quickly pulled you both out of the suite, "Come on, we need to get down there."

The three of you, followed by other players families, whizzed through the corridors to get onto the field as quickly as possible. The atmosphere was electric and your head was spinning with the vast amount of people piling onto the field. Your eyes were darting around to locate Travis but as you were searching, you saw the two brothers sharing an emotional hug.

"Congratulations, go celebrate."

Travis looked at his big brother, "I love you, man."

Jason winked and nodded his head towards you and Travis turned around quickly. As soon as he spotted you, his eyes lit up with tears and he came running to you, picking you up and spinning you around. Camera flashes blinded your eyes so you closed them and pressed a firm kiss onto Travis' lips.

As he lowered you back down onto the grass, you stared up at him, "I am so proud of you, baby." You placed your hands onto the sides of his face as he stared lovingly down at you, "So proud. You did it, you won. I love you so much."

Travis leaned down to meet your lips with his again, "I love you too, baby."

You felt his hand lower to grab your ass firmly, squeezing the supple flesh. Your own hand grasped at his toned biceps and you watched as his chest rose and fall hastily.

"You're not too tired are you, big guy?" You hands ran along his arms as you looked up at him.

He leaned down so his mouth was close to you ear, "Not a chance, I'm getting out of here as fast as I can."

______________________________________________________________

"You...are amazing. I...love...you so much." You said in-between breaths as Travis was latching onto your neck, leaving wet lazy kisses across your skin.

His hands were roaming your clothed body, grasping at the fabric and pulling it so he could have access.

You pulled away from him and walked slowly to the hotel bedroom, his hungry eyes following every step you made. As you reached the bed, you spun on the spot and sat on the edge, looking up at your 6 foot 5 inch man.

"So, you remember our deal?" You asked, a husky rasp to your voice.

Travis nodded and silently made his way to his suitcase, his broad back obstructing your view as to what he had pulled out of it. You waited patiently until he turned to face you, a long black piece of material in his hand.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, baby." His head shook slightly as he spoke, his words laced with lust.

You tilted your head as he came closer to you, "But this is your treat?"

"Watching you squirm as I make you cum is a treat for me."

Your thighs tightened and your pussy throbbed at his words.

He climbed onto the bed behind you and pulled your hair to one side, placing soft kisses on your neck and shoulders, your skin tingling at his touch. Your eyelids fluttered closed and you gasped gently. You leaned back slightly and rested on his chest whilst Travis placed one hand up your jersey, searching for your breasts. His fingers grazed your right nipple and you felt a jolt of pleasure through your body.

Just as you were melting into his touch, he quickly moved away from the bed and walked around to face you. You looked up at him, your pink swollen lips parted and his eyes darkened further. You smiled when he placed the black fabric over your eyes and tied it into a knot at the back of your head.

Suddenly, your world was black and all you had to rely on was your other senses. You felt Travis' hands run up your thighs and as you stood up, he gently pulled down your tight, ripped jeans and you carefully stepped out of them. All of the sudden, you felt Travis' lips on yours, gently and almost ghosting over your mouth. You leaned forward for him but he wasn't there. You could hear movement on the bed behind you but you stayed where you were, wanting to be under Travis' full control.

You felt his breath on your neck behind you and he pulled the jersey you were wearing over your head so you were left in your lace bra and thong. Travis let out a small groan at the sight of your ass and you heard him shift again on the bed behind you. He placed a gentle grip on your arm and guided you down onto the bed so you were laid on your back. After a couple of seconds, his hands slowly removed your thong as his lips kissed your stomach and hips, getting closer to your pussy with every kiss.

You let out a sigh, your chest quivering and struggling to control your breathing. Travis blew gently on your exposed clit, and the cool air made you throw your head back in preparation. He had always been good with foreplay, he knew exactly what to do to drive you crazy but you knew this night was going to be different.

You parted your legs slightly and Travis' wet tongue drew a stripe up your folds, flicking your clit at the end. Your legs tensed tightly and then opened further so you could allow him better access. Travis got to work immediately, his tongue expertly exploring your pussy. His movements were gentle but firm, and you could occasionally hear him humming, the vibrations running through your body. A tightness built up in your lower stomach, causing you to arch your back off of the bed and a low guttural sound to leave your lips. Travis ran his hand up your stomach, reaching for your chest. His fingers found your left breast, nipping at the skin, pinching your nipple and tugging at it. You hissed at the slight pain, enjoying the sharp sensation that flooded your body.

He removed his tongue and replaced it with his fingers, gently pushing them inside of you. You felt his frame cover yours, his mouth kissing your neck and chest. Your breathing became uneven and you curled your toes, holding onto the orgasm that was building up inside of you. Travis must have noticed as he lifted his lips to your ear.

"Go on baby, that's it. Let that perfect pussy cum for me."

His low growl in your ear made you completely release, a wetness covering his fingers with force. You heard Travis gasp, and then felt him speed up, pumping his fingers in and out with an impressive pace. You squealed as you released some more, your cum spurting with force.

Travis quickly flipped you over so you were lying on your front. He moved behind you and lifted your hips upwards, steadying yourself on your knees. You pressed your cheek into the bed, letting your torso relax. You arched your back as he returned his tongue to your vagina, lapping up the juices that were covering your folds. Your muscles quivered and your body writhed with pleasure.

"Mmm, you taste so sweet." He breathed into your pussy.

You bit down on the pillow next to your face to stop yourself from screaming and Travis responded by grabbing at your thighs, digging his fingers in and flicking your clit with his tongue. Your back arched even further and your throat croacked.

"Travis...baby...I need your dick." You panted, "Please...uhh...p-lease."

His hands moved to your ass, slapping his hand across the skin. You moaned at the sting but continued to beg for him.

"Fuck me, Travis...do what you want to me...fuck me, baby."

Travis chuckled and lifted himself up onto his knees, his thick erection perfectly positioned at your entrance. You bucked backwards slightly, pushing his tip against your wet lips. You could feel your pussy pulsating and with one easy motion, he slid himself inside of you, causing you to gasp at his size. Your walls stretched around him and you whined as you adjusted to him.

He started slow and gentle, letting you feel every inch of his cock. He rested his hands on your back before he tangled them in your hair, grasping at it to pull you upwards and onto your hands. You clutched at the bed sheets, tightening your fists as you took his length. He grunted with each thrust, his sounds fuelling your second orgasm.

Quickly, he pulled his member out and flipped you back onto your back before removing your blindfold. You blinked and your eyes adapted to the light. He smiled when you locked eyes with him, finally gazing upon his handsome and strong features. His mouth parted and he bit down on his bottom lip as his dick plunged into you, your cum spilling out. Your eyes widened as he repeatedly thrusted with a powerful force. He pressed his forehead to yours, steadying himself as he increased his speed. Contrary to earlier, you screamed this time with no care for how loud you were, making wild sounds to signify your intense pleasure. Travis breathed through gritted teeth, the muscles in his arms bulging and flexing with each movement.

You vision started to get blurry as you sensed your next orgasm. You licked your dry lips and grunted Travis' name before you felt a release of ecstasy wash over you. Every muscle in your body seemed to tense then relax, your breathing even more rushed and manic than before. You turned your head slightly but Travis placed a large hand on your chin and pulled your gaze back to him, his urgent expression prolonging your climax.

After some laboured thrusts, Travis tightened his grip on you and his body contorted as he released his cum into you. Your walls clenched as you felt him pulsate, his ejaculation filling you up. He collapsed slightly, but was careful not to put his whole weight on top of you. Instead, he held himself up by his elbow, stroking the side of your face with his other hand.

His face was red and speckled with beads of sweat. His eyes bore into you as he smiled, "You are perfect, baby."

"Nobody is perfect, Travis."

He narrowed his eyes, "You are. I love you so much." He pushed some rogue hairs away from your face with his thumb and kissed your forehead, "I would do anything for you."

"Anything?"

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I am really enjoying getting requests these days! You all have such wonderfully creative ideas! I also wanted to check whether people would want me to start a standard taglist? I have one for my Touchdown series, but wondered if I should have a regular one for all of my writing?