#she creeps up on u like that 💕 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pathologicalreid · 6 months ago

Note

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.”

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

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asocialangel · 3 months ago

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how MHA lovers like to kiss you

how they like to kiss uuuu ( ˘ ³˘) 💕

quick headcanons for my bnha lovelies because i fell back into it and ugh it’s so good esp my baby bakugow… enjoy and tell me which characters u want for part 2 ! Gender neutral.

includes: bakugo, shoto, deku, mina, aizawa, kirishima.

bakugou: cheek kiss

uhm sue me ? In a relationship, to me, bakugou would be very innocent and like, ¿calm?. First of all he’s a PDA HATUURRRR like u’ll never catch him doing dat. Anyway, cheek kisses are quick ways to tell you ‘i love you’, ‘i love you for who you are’ an honest yet inaccurate way of showing his immense adoration to u.

ꕥ

todoroki: forehead kiss

something about it feels so authentic to him. “I love you, without lust” (obviously sometimes there's lust but here he means it like i love so i'm kissing you goodbye– oh i cherish you so much you wouldn't even know anyway see u love). It’s also like a protective ‘you’re safe with me’ kiss.

ꕥ

izuku: hand kiss

hello ? grabs both your hand and kisses ‘em. Goodbye ? takes your hand quickly and kisses it while looking at you straight in the eyes. Goodnight ? will grab your hand and blindly kiss it, holding it asleep. “I love you” ? He was casually telling you that after tying your shoelace, grabbing your hand and kissing it like a prince asking your hand in marriage or sum…

ꕥ

mina: eskimo kiss

Nose to nose. She’ll grab your face and bring hers closer, so close your noses touch and then she’ll slightly move her head right to left so your noses rub against each other. Staring at you dead in the eye, obvi. “I love you~~~~” (she whispers). “You know that I hope”.

ꕥ

aizawa: shoulder kiss

For that casual yet sensuous feel it has. He loves creeping up from behind you without you noticing, to startle you with a kiss. And when he kisses your neck, he’ll alternate between looking at you and the floor, fidgeting with your clothes and hair. Sometimes it can last five whole minutes before he moves on, sometimes he just greets you in a flash while he goes from one location to another.

ꕥ

kirishima: bite kiss

That boy loves you so much he gets that aggressive pulsion when he sees you because of how cute you are. So whenever you kiss –whether it’s lips collarbone or ear– he’ll add in some teeth in the mix. He just can’t help himself buuuut he knows you just love the feel of his sharky teeth. Sometimes it’s soft nibbles, sometimes you have whole teeth marks afterwards. He loves how you giggle from the ticklish feeling.

A/N: ew somehow writing for eraser head felt weird, i just don't love his character sm and he feels ? old ? ion even know how old he is canonly ANYWAY WHO DO U WANT FOR PART TWO ??

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bueckerrss · 6 months ago

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SWEET LOVE - CAITLIN CLARK

summary𞠬: hiii could you write caitlin clark x reader where she has a crush on a singer in the same level as taylor swift (like super famous, eyes on them all the time etc etc etc) pls and thank u!!

- warnings: none? at least i don’t think so

-taglist: @patscorner @wintersstan @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @breeloveschris @endereies

masterlist | navigation | 2

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THE FLASHING LIGHTS of cameras being as blinding as it could be, people were shouting your name to get your attention and snap pictures of you.

as you made your way to the entrance of the building you were stopped by an interviewer “y/n! i’m john winston, is it okay if i ask you a few questions?” he asked pushing the microphone towards you.

“of course!” you replied with a smile “alright first question, who did your hair and makeup today?” he started “my stylist linda did my hair and makeup she really knows what she’s doing” you replied with a smile.

they asked you typical questions you’d always get in these events. “okay one last question before i let you go, we’ve noticed recently that you have been watching women’s college basketball who would you say is your favorite team and players?” he questioned looking up from his paper.

“my favorite teams and players?” you repeat the question “that’s a difficult question for players i would say either caitlin clark or kate martin, now for teams i don’t know actually i don’t have a favorite just yet” you replied with a smile and nodding your head. “there you have it guys she doesnt have a favorite team yet! thank you so much for your time y/n” he replied with a smile before walking off.

caitlin was scrolling through tiktok when she came across clips from last night’s interview, she paid attention to everything you had to say until the last question “that’s a difficult question for players i would say either caitlin clark or kate martin, now for teams i don’t know actually i don’t have a favorite just yet” your voice rang from the phone in her hand. “woah what” she said sliding her hand to go back to that specific question.

“i’m her favorite player? wait she knows who i am?!” she thought a smile creeping into her face. this was something big for caitlin you’ve been her crush since 2018, she loved everything about you from your music to how you interacted with your fans.

this was her chance, “should i dm her? no she probably gets too many dms and mine would get lost” she said responding to her own question before she could do anything she got a notification; “your.username just posted.”

liked by madisonbeer and 1,200 others

your.username: thank you toronto! 💕

user: best concert ever 🫶

user: i think i lost my voice 😭

↳︎︎ user: frrrr my throat hurtsss 💀

user: come to iowa next !

↳︎︎ your.username: 👀

user: what city/state next??

︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ↳︎︎ your.username: cleveland, ohio 😛

↳︎︎ user: doesn’t iowa have a game there ??

you arrived at your hotel room, dropping all your bags by the tv jumping on the bed. a loud sigh escaped your mouth, the flight was so long and there was a kid behind you kicking your seat like his life depended on it.

you were slowly falling asleep but your phone buzzed then lit up with a notification.

“we’re getting food downstairs, join us we have a few things to speak to you about”

your manager texted, you sighed getting out of bed and putting your shoes on. you head to the elevator, clicking the button that heads to the first floor you send back a quick “omw” text to your manager the door opens you accidentally bump into someone who was getting out.

“i’m so sorry” you say looking up to see those dazzling brown eyes, the ones you’ve only seen on tv. “it’s okay don’t…worry” she said softly looking down at you.

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a/n: surprise surprise this is me introducing a new mini series for caitlin i hope yall enjoy this one:)

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #wlw post #wlw #wlw love #lgbtq #lesbian #wcbb #wcbb x reader

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seattlesellie · 1 year ago

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i want abby to shove her fingers in my mouth when i talk too much 😇

- 🪻

mmhm, u really get me ♡🩷💕 p.s don’t like don’t read <3

˚୨୧⋆｡ she’d be sitting on her black leather work-chair, attentively reading through some paperwork. she’s been stressed out— like, really stressed out, and you could tell by the way her eyebrows furrow together, and by the thin line that forms right in between them. she taps on the wooden table three times before flipping a page, and hums quietly, followed by a hushed mumble.

you waltz in the living room and you’re giddy and scatterbrained, and as much as abby loves it, as much as abby loves you— she can’t deal with it right now. she has to work.

you sit on her lap— and she has to suck down on her creeping smile because she’s busy. she’s busy and the little wiggle that you just did when you sat right on her thigh isn’t helping at all.

“was thinkin’ sushi for dinner?… or…” you gush before stopping mid-sentence. you begin toying with her neatly done braid, and continue. “ooh! or maybe you could cook me something?”. abby doesn’t respond, and abby smells of pine and citrus and it makes you dizzy, and it distracts you from your famished thoughts, so you kiss her right beneath her earlobe. she hums, and roams her eyes over the paper. she’s not reading anymore— you always render her a mess.

you remove your soft lips from her skin. “or we could order some takeout?… or i could cook for once and make us super delicious mac and—“

“baby, i’m working” she sounds so serious, but she looks so… amused. you can tell she’s biting on her cheek, you don’t need to mutter a word when she looks at you like that. “mhhm… you smell so good…” you murmur, and your eyes widen. she really does. “mhm…” she nods her head, and straightens her back. she has to keep working and you on her lap like that? again, not helping.

“i’m just starving…” you rub her shoulder whilst readjusting yourself on her lap. she looks so incredibly sexy with her eyes all focused like that. also, you really are starving. when you plant a little kiss on her cheek, she knows you’re energetic and you’re not going to stop. she slowly caresses on your stomach, upwards to your chest. “an— and yesterday you said you’d…” her hand is right beneath your collarbone now, making you slightly shiver. she traces little circles the more upwards she goes, “you’d— uhh… cook for me, s’—“ her thick digits are on your chin now, merely hovering above your lower lip. “so, you should keep your promise an—unghh!“

it takes you by complete surprise, and you don’t even have time to react before her fingers enter your soft lips. the saliva is pooling down on the bottom of your mouth and you can taste her flesh,, salty and abby. “abb— uh” you try and mumble but it’s incoherent and messy and slobbery. you can’t really see her face, but abby’s grinning.

“i told you i’m working, sweetheart”. when your mouth closes around them, she shoves her fingers in deeper, nearly making you gag but not quite.

“are you going to be quiet, or am i gonna have to keep ‘em there?” abby mutters sternly. she clicks on her pen two times before you answer. “mmh auhg—bby”

she sighs deeply, and ts’ks. abby shoves them in deeper and you can’t help but suck. “thought so” she says, and you smile sheepishly, as a small droplet of spit runs down the corner of your lips. she moves backwards, takes you by your chin and makes you face her. “are you liking this?” she smirks, furrowing her brows. “mnuh—uh” choked up, you lie and shake your head.

“oh baby… but i think you do…” — abby likes it just as much, you can tell because her thighs clench.

“i’m keeping ‘em in there, babe”, her words are stern but laced with honey, they come out soft and airy.

you nod your head, slowly, looking at her through wet eyelashes, and teary eyes. when your head budges, she stirs her fingers as well, as if she has taken over your movements.

“say yes abby” she commands.

you can’t— though, you can’t speak with her fingers down there.

“es— awhbby”

“aww…” she coos, and wipes a tear that fell down on your cheek. you almost gag, but she’s ever the sweetheart and pulls them out for a mere second, before shoving them back in— startling you.

“that’s what you get for being so damn distracting” she’s so smug.

when abby goes back to her paperwork— she realizes she just made it worse. she couldn’t focus before and she sure as hell can’t focus right now.

˚୨୧⋆｡

#ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 🪻 anon #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby x reader

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ilwonuu · 7 months ago

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Can I request reader having a sexy dream and texting bf Jungwon about it and she’s so needy so she shows up at the dorms while the other boys are there and shows up at the dorms while the other boys are there. She immediately drags Jungwon to his room and they start making out, he’s rlly shy because he’s never done anything like this before. She’s on his lap and starts grinding on him and he gets hard for the first time with her and gets really embarrassed but reader is OBVIOUSLY into it and gives him a handjob and he just cums sm all over her.

anon,,,, this request will be the death of me (good death obvi) this is too good omg. i hope you like<3 thank you for requesting!!!!

boy, i want you.

↬ yang jungwon

꧁ pairing- nonidol!jungwon x fem!reader, switch!jungwon x switch!reader, established relationship.

꧁ warnings- making out, handjob, pet names, affection, jungwon is shy<3, reader is needy for him and he is the same for her!!!, lmk what else

꧁ a/n- i loved writing this because jungwon is my bias in enhypen!!!! so when i saw this request you know i was excited to write for him.. lmk what u guys thought please<333

you just woke up from a dream you never wanted to wake up from. your boyfriend was touching you in ways you want more than anything. you woke up with a pooling feeling between your thighs, squeezing them together mindlessly. you sigh grabbing your phone thinking if you should text him or not. your finger lingers overs his contact as you decide to finally text him.

you- wonnie? are you still awake?

wonnie🐱💕- yea of course!! just watching a movie with the guys. what’s up?

you- i had a dream.. i can’t stop think about you. can i come over?

wonnie🐱💕- oh?? was the dream dirty?

you- maybe.. is that okay?

wonnie🐱💕- yea.. more than okay. you can come over btw. sorry i didn’t answer your question.

you- are you thinking about dirty things now wonnie?

wonnie🐱💕- uh maybe. but when are you coming?

you- right now.

you roll out of bed quickly, grabbing your jacket practically running to your car. you make your way to jungwons dorm with butterflies in your stomach. you finally arrive, walking quickly up the stairs.

you knock feeling your butterflies come back. jungwon opens the door with a big smile. “you got here quick.” he pulls you inside with a smile.

“you came at the perfect time. we just finished the movie.” he says as you hug him. “hi guys!” you wave to the three boys on the couch.

“i didn’t know you were coming over.” jake says with a smile. you laugh pulling jungwon to his room. jay and sunoo waving to you as you walk away with your boyfriend. you finally close the door after you two.

“wha-“ you cut him off pulling him to immediately start kissing him. pushing him back on his bed. he kisses you back softly as a little blush creeps against his cheek. you grab his face to make out with him harder.

he lets a small gasp slip so you slide your tongue into his mouth. he moans slightly into the kiss as he feels his cheeks heat up some more. you pull away panting slightly looking down at him with a smile. he looks away from you as his face gets redder.

“why won’t you look at me? you’re too cute.” you say kissing his cheek as you straddle him. he sits up straight still not making eye contact with you.

“i- i haven’t done that before- i don’t know if i was good- or-“ you shake your head. “it was good wonnie. i love kissing you.” you grab his face to look at you as you say the last words to him.

“i-i love kissing you too.” he looks into your eyes now still blushing at your touch. “can i kiss you again?” you ask looking at his lips. he nods quickly. you pull him to kiss you again. his kissing back this time is more needy as you slip your tongue into his mouth.

you start to grind down onto him. he moans at the pleasure but gasps at the new feeling. you grab his face as you grind down harder against him. you feel him get hard under you causing you to pull away from the kiss as you continue to grind against him. he tries to look away from you but you shake your head.

“what’s wrong?” you ask kissing his cheek again. his breathing is fast as he tries to catch it. “u-uh this- is embarrassing- i haven’t-“ he looks in between you guys trying not to moan as your hips move against his still.

“f-feels good.” he whispers to you still grind slowly. he doesn’t look you in the eyes though. he still feels embarrassed to be so close to you. he doesn’t know how you seem so calm. he feels like he’s gonna explode. he feels so warm under your touch.

“can i make you feel even better?” you kiss his neck gently leaving a couple kisses. he looks at you nervously but nods slowly. you get off his lap sitting next to him.

“can i take these off?” you tug at his pants and he just nods. he can’t form any words or look at you without blushing. you take his sweatpants off him leaving him in his boxers.

you palm him through his boxers as you pull him into another kiss. he groans into the kiss slightly. he tries to bite back another groan when you slide his dick out of his boxers.

“this okay wonnie?” you ask as you wrap your hand around it. he nods with a shudder as you start to move your hand. “y/n- o-oh-“ he throws his head back slightly as you move your hand faster.

“feel good wonnie?” he groans at the question trying to hide his face. he doesn’t want you to see how much he’s enjoying this. “baby use your words.” you kiss his lips again as you start to speed your hand. “mm it’s so g-good.” he still tries to hide his face a little more. you want to see his face though.

“wonnie- don’t hide i want to see you.” you kiss his neck as you focus on his pleasure. he finally gives up on hiding himself. his moans are turning more desperate as you speed your hand up.

“i-i think- shit im gonna cum.” he gets redder when the words leave his mouth. you just smirk to yourself as you pull his shirt off over his head. “cum for me wonnie.” you whisper into his ear as you plant a kiss against it. “a-ah fuck-“

his hips buck a little into your hand as white ropes paint your hand and his chest. you milk him through his orgasm as he moans your name. his cum everywhere as he catches his breath.

“you came so much wonnie- was it good?” you kiss his lips after you question him. he nods blushing again as he can’t look at you. “look at me wonnie.” he blushes a little making full eye contact with you.

“you did so good for me.” you smile kissing his lips again as you get something to wipe him off. “t-thank you.” he smiles slightly as you clean him off.

“can i stay over tonight wonnie?” you ask as you see him start to dress himself again. “of course- i would love you too.” he gains a bit of his confidence back no longer feeling as embarrassed. you smile pulling him into a kiss seeing his face heat up again.

“you’re so cute when you’re nervous.” you squeeze his cheeks making him laugh a little. “stoppp-“ he blushes as he pushes you away playfully.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #jungwon #jungwon smut #yang jungwon #jungwon enha #enha #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha smut #enhypen fic #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #jungwon x you #jungwon x y/n #jungwon fic

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lllivia · 2 months ago

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can i request?

pranking Jackie, that u got a hickey from someone else so you can get back at her after she pranked u :p

Happy April Fools Day!!

Jackie Taylor x f!reader

TYSM FOR THE REQUESTT, literally the perfect timing since its April 1st today 😭😭 (I completely forgot about this for MONTHS 💀)

summary: getting revenge on your girlfriend after last year's April Fools Day

warnings: modern au, infidelity prank, not proofread, slightly suggestive at the end

Wow maybe this is a little bit too far you can't help but think nervously as you look over yourself in the mirror, makeup brushes scattered across the sink counter.

As you pat your finger one last time over the now very convincing hickey the sense of guilt that was creeping up your throat quickly disappears when you recall the godawful prank your conniving little girlfriend pulled to deserve this.

Last April Fools Day you had come home exhausted from a long day at school with a strong need to shower. And you didn't really think much of it as you stepped under the hot stream, letting the water run over your hair and body.

you'd scrubbed off all the grime left from soccer practice before you lastly reached over to your shampoo bottle, eyes still closed as you felt your way over to it before squeezing a generous amount into your hand.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK"

You yelled at your own reflection the second you stepped out of the shower and looked in the fogged up mirror where everything seemed to be normal - except your now bright pink hair.

"What the fuck what the fuck oh my god" you rambled frantically as you quickly searched the name of your girlfriend into your phone, immediately knowing that she was behind this.

"Jackie what did you do!" Is the first thing your raised voice said after she picked up the phone call, irritation bubbling up as she burst out laughing when your disgruntled face shows on her screen, her plan had clearly worked.

"Happy April fools day!!" She responded breathlessly, still not done laughing.

"This is not funny Jax - I look like a clown oh my god" you continued and looked up into the mirror again. Well it didn't actually look that bad - but still.

"Well then you'll be my sexy clown baby, you look hot, I have to say pink is definitely your color" Jackie giggled evilly back, way too smug for your liking as you continued glaring.

The dye hadn't washed out of your hair for like a month, and ever since then you had been planning what would be the best way to get back at Jackie.

Everything was ready, you had already set up for her to come over today to just watch a movie and hang out, so it would be perfect to 'accidentally' flash the self made bruise at her while you were cuddling or something.

Your phone suddenly pings.

'I'm standing outside 💕' - Jax 🐰⚽

You quickly cover the makeshift bruise on your neck before walking to the front door, a little bit anxious.

"Hi baby" your girlfriend grins and greets you as she steps inside, immediately making herself comfortable as she throws herself onto your large couch.

"Hi Jackie" you smile back, rubbing your clammy hands on your shorts before following her slightly on edge.

"I know I said we'd go to the arcade but I'm kinda tired today so can we please just watch a movie here?" you sit down next to her and pout, giving her your infamous puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah that's fine.. On one condition" she replies in a serious tone making you sweat even more.

"What?" Surely she hadn't figured out what you were doing yet right?

"You have to win me the biggest teddy they have the next time we go to the arcade" She answers smiling widely.

Pushing her playfully you can't help but roll your eyes lovingly. "yeahh yeah of course"

An hour goes by as you cuddle up together, enjoying each others presence as you watch some movie in the background. Deciding now was the time to finally get back at her, you shift a little, making the bruise more visible to where she was sitting.

Another few minutes go by before it's Jackie's turn to shift uncomfortably as she studies the mark clearly planted on your neck.

"What the fuck is that" she musters.

"Hm what?" You answer, hiding your tiny smirk as you look over at her.

"What the fuck is that bruise on your neck."

You brush your hair back over the mark, acting both confused and slightly defensive.

"I don't know what you're on about Jax" you shrug.

Her eyes blaze with anger as she forcefully grabs your face by the chin, turning your head to the side before studying your neck more closely.

"This is clearly a huge fucking hickey y/n, who was it?"

"No one- it's fine Jackie let's just finish the movie" you pull away.

She stands up.

"I'm leaving, this is such bullshit - I thought we were doing good - perfect even. And then you have to go make out with some whore" she says harshly, blinking away the tears that had slowly crept up on her before storming towards the front door.

Shit that had gone way worse than you were expecting - you weren't even sure what you were expecting from this.

"Jackie wait! Shit" you stumble over your own legs as you rush after your furious girlfriend. "It was a prank! I'm pranking you ok, I just wanted to get back at you for last year"

Just as she was about to turn the handle you catch up with her "I promise, see?" You carefully turn her face towards you again.

"What."

You reach up and rub your hand over your neck forcefully. Turning it red with not only with the bloodflow rushing up towards the friction but also the eyeshadow getting smudged all over.

"It's makeup, it was all fake baby. It was just an April Fools prank - a really really stupid one at that"

You say hastily and caress the girls cheek softly, soothing her.

She looks away again, blinking a couple of more times to process before smiling slightly. "..I guess you got me this time" but then she swats your hand away from her and comes dangerously close. "But if you ever EVER do something like this again, I will kick your ass."

You chuckle "mkay if you say so" then grimace "how about we go out, I feel like I kinda owe you"

She purses her lips for a second before looking you over. "Or- we could stay right here, and I could show you what real hickeys look like"

You scoff smirking "how could I say no to that"

#jackie yellowjackets #jackie taylor smut #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #yellowjackets #yj #shauna sadecki #shauna yellowjackets #shauna shipman #lottie yj #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews #natalie scatorccio #natalie yellowjackets #ella purnell #made by lllivia

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dontyouworrydaddy · 1 year ago

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Can you please do 141 where the reader and them are talking about there Highschool years and like “I would have dated you in high school “ type thing THEN they see a pic of reader in high school (prom,first day,or any thing for that time) SHES FINE FINE like imagine 90s type vibe, then they remember what they looked like in that same year and they say back “ IM glad u didn’t meet me then cause u would have no interest “ AND SHES STILL FINE FINE where they think it’s a recent photo!

idk know what I’m doing I just got an idea and your my favorite writer so I wanted to let you know!!!!

YOU ARE LOVED!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️

thᥱ most bᥱᥲᥙtιfᥙᥣ ᥕomᥲᥒ ιᥒ thᥱ ᥕorᥣd

Task Force 141 + fem! reader

I ABSOLUTELY love this idea!!!! Like as soon as they see your pictures they‘re like "damn. I‘m glad we didn’t meet back then because she would definitely reject me and on top of that probably make fun of me." I‘m sorry but especially with Soap😭 This dude probably had the craziest hair back then (he still has but we love him for it).

Also I‘m so thankful for your kind words🥺🥺 They really mean so much to me and you just lighten up my entire day<33 I wish I could hug you right now☹️ Remember that you’re also always loved by someone and MEEE🫶🏻🫶🏻💘💘

Thank you really so so much 🌸💕💕

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Simon Riley

It was a quiet evening at the your apartment . Simon found himself reminiscing about your high school years. As the conversation flowed, nostalgia filled the air.

"You know, Y/N, if we had met in high school, I would have totally dated you." Simon said with a playful smirk, leaning back against the wall.

You chuckled, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Oh, really? And why is that?"

Simon's gaze turned thoughtful as he recalled those distant memories. "Well, you are always confident and stunning. I would have been a nervous wreck around you."

Grinning, you teased, "Are you saying you weren't attractive back then?"

Simon chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair. "Let's just say my teenage years weren't my finest hour. I had an awkward sense of fashion, let’s not talk about my hair... Definitely not the smooth operator you see in front of you today."

Curiosity piqued, you both began reminiscing about those high school days. Simon had a mischievous idea and suggested pulling out old photo albums to see just how different you both were.

Rummaging through the dusty boxes, you stumbled upon a photo of your younger self. It was a picture from prom, in your beautiful dress. You were radiant, your smile lighting up the frame. Simon's eyes widened as he took in the sight.

"Damn, Y/N, you were fine then, and you're still fine now!" he exclaimed, feigning surprise.

You laughed, not realizing his little trick. "Well, thank you, Simon. I try my best."

Simon's expression shifted, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "You know, seeing this picture reminds me of why I'm glad we didn't meet back then. I don't think I would have stood a chance with you. You would've rejected me in a heartbeat."

Your smile softened as you leaned in closer. "Simon, you underestimate yourself. I would have seen the incredible person you were, braces and all. It's the person you are inside that truly matters."

Simon's eyes locked with yours, and a genuine smile graced his face. The air was filled with a sense of camaraderie as you both laughed at the absurdity of it all.

As the evening came to a close, Simon made a decision. He carefully tucked the photo of your younger self into his pocket, a keepsake of a moment he cherished. You remained unaware of this little secret, but somehow, deep down, you felt that this memory would always be a part of your bond.

John MacTavish

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and John and you were lounging on the couch, flipping through old photo albums. The nostalgic memories flooded your minds as you reminisced about your high school years. The room was filled with laughter and teasing as you playfully pointed out your younger selves in various snapshots.

John looked at a picture of you, radiating confidence in a stunning prom dress. He couldn't help but stare in awe, captivated by your beauty and timeless charm. With a grin, you turned to him and said "You know, John, I would have totally dated you in high school."

John's eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at your words. He never expected you to make such a bold statement. "Really?" he asked, a mix of curiosity and disbelief in his voice.

You nodded, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, absolutely. You are the mysterious and brooding type. I was drawn to that kind of intensity back then."

A flicker of doubt crossed John's face as he remembered his own high school years. "I'm glad you didn't meet me then" he said, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. "I had this crazy hair phase, and trust me, you would have immediately rejected me."

You chuckled, playfully swatting his arm. "Come on, John. Show me that picture. I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad."

John hesitated for a moment, then reached for another album. He turned to a page and revealed a photograph of himself, his hair styled in an over-the-top, eccentric manner that seemed to defy gravity. His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and amusement as he looked at his younger self.

You burst into uncontrollable laughter, clutching your stomach. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to compose yourself. John couldn't help but join in, the embarrassment fading as he found joy in sharing this memory with you.

Once the laughter subsided, you looked at him with a smile. "John, you have no idea how much I would have loved to meet that version of you. That hairstyle is absolutely cute!"

John's face softened, his heart swelling with affection for you. "You're incredible, you know that?" he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "Even if I looked like a total goofball, you would still find a way to make me feel special."

You reached out and took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "That's because I've always seen the amazing person you are, regardless of how you looked or what hairstyle you had."

John leaned in and gently kissed your forehead, his love for you evident in his eyes. "I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side," he whispered and kissed you on the lips.

John Price

You and John sat side by side on the couch, flipping through an old photo album filled with memories from your high school years. The two of you had decided to take a nostalgic trip down memory lane. You couldn't help but smile as you stumbled upon a particular photograph that brought back a flood of memories.

"Oh my gosh, John, look at this!" you exclaimed, pointing to a picture of yourself at the high school prom. You were dressed in a stunning vintage dress.

John's eyes widened as he gazed at the photograph, taking in your breathtaking beauty. "Wow, you were absolutely stunning" he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "If I had known you back then, I would've also been head over heels for you."

A playful grin spread across your face. "Oh, really? So you're saying you would've dated me in high school?"

John chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I probably would've been too intimidated to ask you out. Plus, I had a weird sense of style back then. Trust me, you wouldn't have been interested."

Curiosity piqued, you leaned closer, showing him the photograph of yourself. "Well, let's see if that's true" you challenged him.

John's eyes widened even further as he looked at the picture. "Wait a minute, is this recent? You look exactly the same!"

You burst into laughter, your heart warming at his genuine surprise. "No, John, this is me in high school. That's why I said I would've dated you back then."

He let out a low whistle. "Well, damn. I definitely lucked out then."

You playfully nudged his shoulder. "Come on, John, you can't be that bad. Let me see your high school days."

John reluctantly handed you another photograph from the album, showing his younger self with a mischievous grin. He sported a rather peculiar outfit that seemed to be a mixture of different styles. It was elegant and had a touch of cowboy style, mixed…

You burst into laughter once again, unable to contain yourself. "Oh, John! I can't believe this was your fashion sense back then."

He smirked, looking slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I had a bit of a weird phase. Trust me, if we had met during those years, I would've been instantly rejected."

You shook your head, still laughing. "Oh, John, you have no idea. Even with that fashion sense, I would've been all over you."

His eyes sparkled with affection as he pulled you into a tight embrace. "Well, I'm glad we met when we did, then. I wouldn't change a thing about how we found each other."

You smiled, savoring the warmth of his embrace. "Me neither, John. We're perfect for each other, weird fashion choices and all."

Kyle Garrick

Kyle and you sat side by side on the couch, surrounded by photo albums from your high school days. You decided to take a trip down memories from back then together. As you flipped through the pages, looking at the good old times, you stumbled upon a photo of yourself from prom night.

"Oh, wow!" You exclaimed, holding up the photo for Kyle to see. "Look at me back then. I can't believe how much has changed."

Kyle's eyes widened as he took in the sight of you in your beautiful prom dress, radiating a timeless beauty. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret as he thought back to his own high school days.

"I would have dated you in high school" you mused, oblivious to the effect the photo had on Kyle. "You're such a great guy, I would have definitely dated you."

A small smile played at the corners of Kyle's lips as he stared at you, captivated by your words. "Thank you love, but believe me, you're better off not having met me back then. I was a total nerd."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What are you talking about? I‘m sure you were cute."

Kyle's expression turned pensive as he reached for another photo album and opened it to a picture of himself from the same year as your prom. His hair was a mess, his glasses too big for his face, and his clothes screamed "geek."

"See?" Kyle pointed to his photo, his voice laced with self-deprecating humor. "I was a freak. If we had met in high school, I would've been immediately rejected. You would've never given me a second glance."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and then you burst into laughter, shaking your head. "Baby stop. You look adorable!!"

He blinked, unable to comprehend your words. "Wait, what?"

"I'm serious!" You continued to laugh, your heart swelling with affection for the man beside you. "You're looking at this picture like it's some embarrassing relic, but all I see is the person I fell in love with. Baby Kyle looks so so cute here"

Kyle's gaze softened as he absorbed your words. The weight of his insecurities began to lift, replaced by a newfound confidence in your unwavering love. "I‘m 17 here love… not 6…"

Placing the photo album aside, you leaned in closer to Kyle, intertwining your fingers with his. "High school was just a phase, but what we have now, this incredible relationship, is what matters. I love you, Kyle Garrick, then, now, and always."

Kyle smiled, his heart overflowing with love for you. "I love you too, more than words can express."

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last-starry-sky · 5 months ago

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KATE the way you left it! I’ll be honest. He can watch us have the most sensual, passionate kiss and go down on each other but if he touches her, I’d explode with jealousy. I’m a hypocrite 💀 does asshole Simon just want to get back at us and make us jealous in a threesome?? (thank you for your lovely writing 💕)

*rubs my greedy hands together like a bug* oooooh boy :)

ghost/bi!reader/f!oc (no name used, so she can be read as another reader insert but w/e)

[MDNI - NSFW: 4.2k, weird jealous simon being a creep , pet-names, oral, slight dub-con elements but both girls just roll with it so ymmv, forced m/f/f threesome, dirty talk, light d/s elements, Simon and oc talk you through it, unprotected piv, cumming on the outside, hand-job, implied cum eating. ]

thank u btw! sorry this took almost a month! i really wanted to give this a good part 2!

You don’t know what made you want to sink directly into the concrete more: Simon staring at you, leaning one arm cooly out the window, eyes hard and disappointed as they sweep once up your form taking in your short shorts and skin-tight tank top. His jaw is clenched so hard you think he’s going to crack a tooth. It makes you want to cry, beg, run toward him and explain it’s all a mistake. That you didn’t mean it. It’s not what it looks like.

Or, the terrible pit that opens in your stomach as his eyes drift ever so subtly to the women curled around your back. Her hands grab at your thighs, vining up to your waist, before giggling in your ear as she hugged your chest and rest her head on your shoulder. There’s a glint in Simon’s flint-hard eye, a softness to his lips that he tried to hide with a cough and stubborn turn of his head, but you saw it. You almost wish you didn’t. Maybe it was just the way she swayed her hips behind you, dress glittering in the streetlight.

“Sooooo,” she said leaning hard on her words, sounding more drunk than she actually was, “this is your guy?”

Simon’s fingers drummed against the side of the door as his dark eyes were turned back at you, staring through his brow. There was not a hint of impatience in the action.

“Yeah,” you answered turning your head to the woman behind you, wary of breaking eye contact with Simon. “Kinda. We-”

“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “just so you know, my offer stands.” She hugged you closer before whispering in your ear. “Do you need me to get you out of here?”

You shook your head. You didn’t think Simon would hurt you, or her, but you hated for a great evening to be ruined.

“Oi!” Simon called out, lightly smacking the outside of the car door to get your attention. “Not waiting all night like a bloody taxi. Get in.” Then, after a long moment looking the pair of you over, tacked on, “Both ‘f you.”

“You don’t-” you tried to tell the woman behind you, but she was already twining her arm around yours, leading you to your car.

She gave Simon a smug, celebratory smile as she bounced past him, dress shimmying alluringly around her body as she hauled you behind her. She turned to you as she opened the door, letting go of your hand and pulling you in by the small of your back for a quick kiss. You could feel Simon’s hot stare on you as she lingered on your lips for just a bit too long.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said before ducking into the car.

You followed quickly behind her. Simon had the drivers seat pulled all the way back to fit his long legs, so you squished into the middle seat, close to your new “friend”.

“Cuddle up, baby,” she giggled, pulling your legs into her lap. “Plenty of room.”

You heard Simon grunt out an exasperated noise as he jerked the car back out into the lane, swerving angrily around the smokers loitering outside the club. Your heart pounded as he sped down the dark, busy road, zipping in between cars with little concern as to how much he was throwing the two of you around in the backseat.

“Okay?” she whispered as held you, soothingly stroking her hands down your back as you rocked to and fro until you relaxed into her shoulder.

You nodded, lifting up your head to hug her. She sighed as your cheeks pressed together, hands drifting to your hips, letting her fingers trace the frayed hem of your shorts. She smelled so good. She must have dabbed a bit of perfume behind her ears, because your nose lit up with the bright, spicy scent of oranges. You turned your lips to her cheek, inhaling it, and she moaned a rough “oh”, hands curling into the skin of your thigh.

You only intended to press a kiss, just one, to her neck, but that turned into a line of open kissed up to her cheek. You didn’t need Simon noticing. The woman underneath you had other plans. She turned her face to meet you, capturing your lips. She filled your mouth with lemon and seltzer and the dry, piny, acidity of gin. You couldn’t help but melt into it, chase after it, lick it wildly from her mouth. When you palmed at her breast under the glittery, nubby fabric, startling away as she moved. She broke the kiss to moan against your mouth.

“Again. Please,” she whispered, dark and needy, placing your hand back on her chest.

A car screamed around you, horn blaring. Simon swerved the car back and forth, throwing you onto your back against the opposite seat with her on top of you.

“Keepin’ y’ own fuckin’ lane!” Simon shouted out the window. “Fuckin’ cunt. Learn t’ fuckin’ drive,” he said hoarsely, slamming his palm down on your poor steering wheel.

The woman on top of you giggled into your neck. You looked up in time to see Simon’s eyes narrow in on yours in the rear view mirror. Your heart was pounding out of your chest.

“Wha’s so fuckin’ funny back there?” he growled. You heard him hit the turn signal, slow down, and pull over into the left turn lane.

She pulled her head up slightly, body shaking as she tried to contain her laughter.

“Distracting you?” she asked before collapsing back into your neck, giggles bubbling out.

Simon scoffed, rolling his eyes as he went back to watching traffic.

She didn’t stop kissing you the rest of the ride. Even the change from Simon zipping down the busy, downtown streets to the slow crawl down the narrow roads of your neighborhood didn’t register. You were too busy tweaking her nipples through her dress, and then under her dress, while she rutted against your thigh.

It wasn’t until Simon opened the car door that you came crashing back to reality. The both of you looked up at him as he glowered down at you. Your view was upside down, making him look so much taller and intimidating. The way he leaned that stocky, muscled body of his against the car door while he waited, the same body that filled out those stupid light wash jeans and baggy hoodie, it made you want to push up his shirt to see those muscles he had sent you pictures of all those months ago.

You blushed. You hated how horny he made you, how you still wanted him after what an asshole he’d been since his arrival.

“Out,” he commanded, stepping back as you lost the warmth on top of you.

You detangled from each other before shuffling out under Simon’s heavy gaze. He leaned against the door, arms crossed, his bulk pushing the frame slightly to the side. You couldn’t meet his stare as you waited in the cool night air for the other woman to get out. When she did, it was sensual, lurid, like she was still putting on a show. She didn’t give even a glance over to Simon. Instead, she pressed herself to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thanks for a great time tonight,” she said sliding her hands down your back to your ass, grabbing a handful as she bit her lip.

Then she turned to Simon. You turned your head with her, catching him as he palmed the front of his jeans.

That was nothing. Probably, absolutely, nothing.

“Want me to umm . . .” she said coquettishly, batting her eyelashes as she trailed her hands back up your body, uncaring that she pulled your shirt up too. “. . . call an Uber?” She finished her sentence with a press forward into your breasts that made you shiver. “Don’t want to intrude if you two-”

“Get inside,” Simon commanded before popping off the side of the car and walking toward your backdoor, leaving no room for argument as he left you looking at one another.

You waited for your backdoor to slam closed behind Simon to say anything.

“You can leave if you want,” you said pulling away until it was just your hands cupping her cold shoulders. “I had a great time. I really did, but I should, you know,” you tipped your head toward the house, “clear things up with him.”

“You sure?” she asked sadly.

“Yeah,” you said letting your eyes and body drift away.

You tried to search for the right way to phrase your thoughts, but came up empty. The details of his life you’d been able to pull from your conversations had been brief, but always harrowing. It felt wrong to divulge to a near-stranger what little he’d told you. It was a lonely, bleak life he lived, with so much was still sealed away, secret, buried deep deep in the past. Maybe that was why you’d let him attach to you, why you’d still let him in after how he treated you. He was a old, abused dog of a man. Anyone else would have turned him away, but your heart was soft, always too soft. Even if it ruined this little bit of happiness, you’d give him another chance.

“He’s been through a lot, but he’s a good guy. Funny,” you finally said as her hand curled back around yours.

“Then I’ll stay,” she said resolutely, smiling as she pulled you toward the door.

The two of you stumbled through the dark kitchen, hands already roaming, trying to touch each other through your clothes as you stifled your laughter. She let you lead from here. You pulled her backwards, down the narrow hall of your little one-floor bungalow, past the bathroom and guest bedroom you had set Simon up in. Both were dark.

It did cross your mind for a moment, as she was biting at your top lip and pawing at your face, that you didn’t know exactly where Simon was, but the thought evaporated as you pushed her against your bed. She pulled herself up and then you on top of her. Both of your shoes clattered to the floor along with your shorts.

“Want you,” she moaned against your lips, pulling your shirt off. “So bad. Just, please, touch me, however you want.”

You hiked her dress up and off, slipping your hands underneath her panties at her hips. She sighed as you pulled them down. She was fucking beautiful, pussy absolutely drenched and quivering, waiting impatiently for you. You liked how clear she was with you, communicating as best as she could even this turned on. Still, you were more than a little nervous with what you had to say.

“I’ve, um . . . never done this before-,” you whispered, trailing your hand hesitantly across her mons.

She placed her hand on yours and pushed you down, forcing your fingers through her slick folds. Oh, she felt just heavenly. It made you squirm a bit yourself.

“Just do what feels good for you,” she instructed breathlessly, jumping as you circled her clit.

You nodded, letting her shuffle up the bed to give you room. She let you lead again, falling back against the mattress, allowing you to position her legs as you got in a comfortable position.

Your first lick up her slit was light and experimental. Fuck did she taste good, though: sweaty and briny and real. You dove in again and again, listening to her light sighs as she curled her fingers in your hair. When you got lucky and had someone eat you out, (god it had been so long) you liked it when they started slow and built you into your orgasm. You did the same for her, tongue light as you swirled around her clit, leaning in to suck at it just to hear her breathy moan. You hoped she would like it.

You jumped as a blunt finger traced up the seam of your pussy through your underwear.

“Gon’ make her cum, lovie?”

You whipped your head around, gasp falling from your mouth. Simon was leaning over the bed, his body only visible from his chest up like he was materializing out of the dark like some sort of specter.

You tried to turn, to cover yourself, anything, but it was no use. He drew himself further out of the shadows to kneel on the bed behind you. The hand on your pussy planted itself between your shoulder blades, pushing your face back down into the cunt in front of you.

“Finish ‘er off. Don’t pay me no mind,” he said low and dark, saddling up behind you.

You flicked your eyes up to the woman in front of you, nervous as to what she would think of this. To your surprise her hungry, low cast eyes were on Simon. She bit her lip and tossed her head to the side before looking back down at you as her hand crawled back to the crown of your head.

It spiked something in you, that look she gave him. It made you think back to all of the other long glances they had shared. What was going on between them? You’d assumed it was simple jealousy, a silly fight for dominance, for you. What ever it was, it made you dive back into her pussy with a renewed purpose. You had wanted her to come before, of course, but now you needed her to come. You needed to prove yourself to her, to feel her come undone with just your lips and tongue. You needed Simon to see you do it with equal measure.

Fingers curled in your hair and the woman below you shallowly bucked up into your mouth, a long low moan following. You almost didn’t feel Simon unclasping your bra.

“Tha’s it. Doin’ good. Keep goin’, lovie. Can see her legs shakin’, right? Know she’s close,” Simon commented. His voice was suddenly very close to your ear now that he was leaning over your back, rutting his jean-clad cock against the cleft of your ass.

All you cared about was those words. She’s close. You could feel it. Her whole core was shuddering against you. Poor, empty pussy clenching against nothing as you sucked on her clit, tongue lapping again and again at the sweet juice that poured from her.

She came suddenly with the cry of a high-pitched oh! as she rode your face, nails biting into your scalp. You stole a look up at her head thrown back against your pillow, the long column of her neck shimmering with sweat. She looked so beautiful. You worked her through it, slowly swirling your tongue around her pulsing clit until she let out a overstimulated whine.

You had wanted to crawl up into her arms after, to hold her and have that sweet moment of pillow talk before letting her fall asleep. Simon didn’t let you have that. He hauled you up against his chest. You thumped against his dark, solid mass that he almost knocked the breath from you. One hand kept you braced to his chest while the other wiped her slick from your mouth, petting your glossy lips with something resembling intimacy.

“Feel better now, hmm?” he asked, tipping your jaw up roughly to force you to face him. “Taste some pussy and now y’ ready to behave f’ me? Spoiled girl.”

You didn’t let you answer him before he set to work. The hand on you chest pulled your loose bra off your arms. One task done, he continued downward to slip a hand past the band of your panties. His large fingers skimmed straight to your dripping hole, ignoring your aching clit. You squirmed as he circled your entrance with those devastatingly large fingers.

“She do good?” he asked the blissed out woman in front of you, still forcing your head to face him.

“Mmm hmmm,” you heard her hum, sliding herself leisurely down the pillows until she was beneath you. “Really good for her first time.”

Without warning, he let go of you, leaving the woman below you to catch you. She sighed happily as she hugged you to her chest, pet your hair, and peppered your face with little kisses. Simon tossed his shirt off before pulling the back of your underwear to the side. He kicked your legs wide enough for him to fit his legs between yours with a single low huff of a laugh.

“Should reward y’ then, huh? Give you that dick y’ve been beggin’ for since I bloody fuckin’ got here?” he said sarcastically, a finger plunging suddenly into you.

You smothered a whine in the crook of her neck. Simon groaned, pumping the finger in and out, lewd, wet squelching filling the room.

“Fuckin’ wet,” he said breathless, leaning on his words. He bent over you again, large hand pressing an extreme arch into your back as he spoke into your ear. “Get this wet makin’ me watch? Thinkin’ you can make me jealous enough I’d finally fuck y’ proper?”

You answered with a muffled whine, smashed between the bodies under and on top of you.

You heard Simon unzip his jeans. You expected to feel some part of his skin not long after. When you didn’t, you turned your head to investigate. Your eyes went wide at what you saw. The woman below you, the one you had made out with and eaten out in front of your quasi-unofficial boyfriend, the one that you had unwittingly set up as a rival to this intimidating, mountain of a man, was stroking gently at his face.

They stared each other down with lusty, hooded eyes for a moment, unsure how this would end. Your mouth fell open as you watched Simon’s eyes flutter shut before leaning in the last few inches to seal his mouth over hers. A blush bloomed over your cheeks as a sudden understanding filled you. This is what it was like to watch someone you liked make out with someone else. To be on the outside looking in. You could only imagine what hell you’d put Simon through tonight. A small pain twisted in your stomach. The hard part was, you liked both of them. You really did, but there was something about your exclusion that made you feel the bite of a certain green-eyed snake.

Simon was the one who pulled away, a delicate string of saliva connecting their open mouths. It made you whine and squeeze her arm with want. You wanted that.

“Quit whinin’,” he mumbled, hauling himself back up.

Hands beneath you grabbed at the fat of your ass, squeezing and spreading you wide. She giggled as she presented your leaking holes to the man behind you. Good god, they were working together now.

Simon groaned as you felt his cock tap once, twice against your ass before notching the head at the entrance to your pussy. He pushed in fully, without waiting, with another breathy groan. You held the woman below you as a pitiful squeak ripped from your chest.

She pet your hair as she cooed, “Aww, is he too big, baby?”

You couldn’t answer. Simon settling the full length of his cock inside you stole the last of your brain power.

She giggled again, her hands sliding up your back as Simon’s large hands settled in their place. They both held you down as he began to fuck relentlessly into you, the weight and curve of his cock forcing you fully, deliciously open, knocking at your cervix with every thrust.

“I bet he is,” she purred in your ear. “Looks like a big boy. Acts like it, too.”

Every impact of his hips forced an involuntary, choked moan from your throat. Your hands gripped tight in the sheets. It’s all you could do as he pounded his full length into you again and again and again.

“Been waitin’,” Simon huffed, rough and deep, as he leaned over you. The change of position made you keen into the mattress. “Been waitin’ f’ this since, fuck,” he said losing his train of thought in his rhythmic slide in and out of the clutch of your cunt.

You knew exactly what he was trying to say. It was the night you finally sent him a dirty picture. It was only because you were drunk and he had promised to send more of his bare skin in return. The picture itself was shit. Dark and grainy, thanks to your shitty phone camera and mirror, but you were still in your bra and panties, leaning over the foot-board of your bed to get a good angle, and that was all he had asked for.

He didn’t respond for about an hour, which made you nervous. You spent most of that hour convinced he hated what he saw. Finally, you made yourself send him a single question mark followed by “you good?” just to make sure he was still alive.

“fuck love” he had responded, followed by a picture of his cum painting the palm of his hand, the leg of his tan pants, and spotting the floor if you could trust your eyes and his equally shitty photo. “more than good”

You’d fallen into a blissful sleep after that, waking up to the best text you’d ever received.

“can’t wait to get my hands on you”

Now here he is, finally railing you into the bed like you’d wanted. It’s impatient, sloppy, and little too rough, but fuck it, he’s here. You can feel all of his frustration pouring into you, the long, exhausting months spent on the job without the time for basic needs, let alone time to beat off.

Something tripped in your brain. There had always been this desire to please within you. A need to give and give and give but never take. There was something about how mercilessly he was fucking you that made you melt. You weren’t just taking it, you wanted it.

He pulled out of you suddenly, one big hand rolling you on to your back. You flopped onto the mattress, slightly to the right, but still on top of the other woman. Her hands and legs wound around you, spreading you open and squeezing at your tits as Simon worked himself to completion.

“On her pussy,” she sighed, a hand coming down to rub at your neglected clit. “Do it, Si. She’ll look so pretty coated in your cum.”

He followed her command to the letter, eyes pinching shut as he came with a moan, falling onto one hand as rope after rope of his spend shot across your splayed open sex.

Wow, you thought. He really had cum that much.

He pulled himself back upright with a groan, wiping his hand on the sheets below him. The fingers on your pussy didn’t stop as you’d expected, though. You shivered and whined as she expertly wound you tighter and tighter, orgasm fast approaching.

“Can I finish her?” she asked Simon, voice breathy as she watched her fingers work his warm, sticky cum around your nub. “Been so good to us. Think she deserves it.”

You looked up at Simon, eyes wet and pleading as whines after pitiful whine fell from your mouth. Fuck did you want to cum so bad. She had you teetering on a knife’s edge, just a few more targeted swipes and you would be there.

He nodded silently, smoothing his hands down your legs as he watched. You let your head roll to the side as she began to work tight circles over the exposed head of your pearl.

You opened your mouth to cry out as you came, but a mouth covered yours. You shuddered as his tongue slowly licked into your mouth, absorbing your cries. It was more than you could take. You felt tears roll down your cheeks as you curled your arms around his neck. When he pulled away you cried out his name as you fell from your peak.

“Si. Si. Si.”

He pecked a final kiss to your top lip before falling to your side with a groan. Your head was still floating, but that made you pliant, moveable enough for him to pull you over against his chest. Feeling something missing, you reached out, grabbing at nothing until you felt a body slide into your arms with a muffled, contented laugh.

“Right here, baby,” she said, popping her fingers out of her mouth to kiss your forehead. “Not going anywhere.”

A moment of silence fell as you all caught your breaths. Simon felt like a rock behind you. You assumed he had fallen asleep. The woman laying next to you was just as sleepy as you, heavy eyes fluttering shut as her chest began to rise and fall slowly and rhythmically.

“‘s fine by me,” Simon mumbled into your hair, “Din’ plan on lettin’ either ’f y’ go.”

a/n: thank u, first of all, to my kind, patient anon who started all this. u da best ❤️ I hope you like this! i also can't believe i wrote my first non-straight fic in pride month, lmao. Now to get part 3 of Girl's Night Out finished for my anniversary!!!

#mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #starry writes #call of duty #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost/oc/reader #idk what else to tag this with!!! lmk if i fucked it up👍#asks #anon

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sunshinesteviee · 2 years ago

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ooh bestie!! how about “How are you this perfect?” and “I want to look at your face.” from the soft smut prompts for Steve? 🥺💕

asdfjsld this took me fuckin forever to get to, but here she is finally lol. f!reader, 18+!!! pretty much just all praise kink, and maybe a lil breeding kink if u squint sldkfjasfd

Steve is always talkative. All day, every day. You never mind; you like hearing his voice and listening to his thoughts, but you especially love it when his cock is buried deep in your cunt and he’s mumbling nearly-incoherent praises into your damp skin.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve grunts, hips hitting yours with a filthy noise for what feels like millionth time as the tip of his cock repeatedly drives into the spot that has you teetering on the edge of release. You clench around him, back arching off of the bed and into his body, pulling another groan out of him, “How are you this perfect, angel? Fuck— you feel like fuckin’ heaven around me. My pretty baby and her perfect, pretty cunt. God you’re so good.”

You’re not nearly as talkative as Steve is, but it’s hard to form any kind of sentence when you’ve already come twice and he’s fucking you like it might be his last chance. Still, you’re gasping out his name, babbling your praises for him, “Stevie— Fuck, Steve. So good, always make me feel so good.”

“Close, baby?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer with the way you’re clenching around him and practically shaking. He can never get enough of the sight of you absolutely fucked out underneath him, hair splayed out on the pillow beneath you, head turned to the side to press into the soft fabric. It’s nearly enough to make him come, so when you nod jerkily, Steve doubles down, one of his hands snaking down between the two of you to rub your clit. “Gonna come for me, baby? Wanna look at your face when you come. Please.”

His tone is nearly pleading, and quite honestly, you miss his eyes and the intense, adoring look he always gives you when he’s this close to coming, too. Opening your eyes, you find him already staring, eyebrows creased in concentration, focusing on you coming first. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as his eyes meet yours, “There she is. My pretty baby. So good for me.”

It’s enough to send you over the edge as he circles your clit again. You’re practically chanting his name, his hair in a tight grip between your fingers to keep it out of his face as you mumble into his neck, “Fuckfuckfuck, baby. Wanna feel you come. Wanna make you feel good, too.”

Steve’s doing his best to keep up the pace, to help you ride out your high, but you know he’s close with the way his hips stutter against yours, his hot breath burning into the skin just above your collarbone. As you start to come down from your high, you hook your leg over Steve’s waist and push at one of his shoulders, trying to push him onto his back. He finally gets the hint, helping you to roll onto his back as he pants, “Shit, sweetheart, I don’t— not gonna last much longer—“

“Got you,” you mumble as you adjust your position, planting your palms on his bare chest and roll your hips over his, “Your turn, pretty boy.”

You swear you can see the blush creeping up from his chest to his neck to his cheeks, his skin hot under your touch from your affection as he all but whines your name. His fingers are digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he throws his head back into the pillows, eyebrows furrowing together as you grind into him. You’re just as focused on making him come as he was for you, and you drop down so your chest is pressed to his, scattering open-mouthed kisses over any bare skin you can reach.

With a bruising grip on your hips to hold you in place, Steve thrusts up into you frantically, desperate for his own release. His head is pressed into the pillows beneath him, not unlike you’d been only minutes earlier, and you can’t resist the urge to press your lips to his bared neck, to the pretty moles that are scattered there, nipping at his skin and leaving your own bruises behind.

Praises for him tumble from your lips, where they’re pressed just underneath his ear, hands tugging at his hair. “God, Steve, you… you’re so fucking big, you’re so perfect. Want— fuck— want you to come inside me, baby, need you so bad.”

That’s really all it takes, and you watch as Steve comes undone beneath you, your name wrapped up in expletives as his chest heaves, long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. You’re not sure how he can call you an angel when he looks like this. When he looks like absolute perfection. His hands soften against your hips, rubbing soothing circles over the red marks he’d made in your skin, and he lets out a laugh, “Fuck, baby.”

His hands slide up the length of your back, wrapping you up into a hug to hold your body against his gently and you let out your own soft giggle, pressing a kiss to his collarbone, “You’re the pretty one, ya know?”

Steve scoffs like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, his palm warm against your back where he rubs small circles into your skin, “Totally not possible, sweetheart.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington #blurbs #steve blurbs #my blurbs

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chiyuuchu · 3 months ago

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Hello!!! Your account layout reminded me so much of this song called Virtual Angel by ARTMS… I was wondering if u could do a story based off the song! It can be either todoroki or bakugou (leaning more on todoroki) but it’s fine, whatever u think will fit!!! The song is in Korean (bc it’s kpop…) so u can search up Virtual Angel English lyrics and there will be a ton of results! Love ur account!!! 🪽🪽🪽💕💕💕

Virtual Angel <3 (9th August 2024)

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Prompt! She’s there when no one else is, guiding him through his struggles and helping him thaw his frozen emotions.

a/n i’ll continue to write for everyone’s request! this song has inspired more plots for my future writing and speaking of kpop, stan kiss of life!

The sun was setting over U.A. High, casting long shadows across the school grounds. Shoto Todoroki walked silently through the empty courtyard, his mind as distant as the horizon. He had always been alone, even in a crowd, his heart wrapped in layers of ice that kept everyone at bay.

But lately, something strange had been happening. He had begun to see her—a girl with soft eyes and delicate wings that flickered and glitched as if they were part of a broken hologram. She appeared when he least expected it, standing just out of reach, her presence both comforting and unsettling.

“Who are you?” he asked one day, his voice low and cautious as he stopped in his tracks to look at her.

“I’m Y/N,” she replied with a gentle smile, her wings fluttering slightly before flickering out for a moment, then reappearing. “I’m here to watch over you, Shoto.”

He blinked, confused. “Watch over me? Why?”

She stepped closer, her expression soft but unreadable. “Because you need someone to. I’m here to help you, to guide you. But... you’re the only one who can see me.”

Shoto frowned, his heart beating a little faster. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something about her that felt familiar, like she had always been there, just beyond the edges of his vision. But the more he tried to focus on her, the more her wings seemed to glitch, fading in and out of existence.

“I don’t understand,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Y/N’s smile grew sad, and she reached out, her hand passing through his like a whisper. “Because you’re special, Shoto. But it’s not time for you to understand yet.”

As the days passed, Shoto found himself increasingly distracted by Y/N’s presence. She was always there, watching him, guiding him through his training and offering quiet words of encouragement when he needed them most. But no one else could see her, and that was beginning to worry him.

In the quiet solitude of the training room, Shoto stood in front of a line of dummies, his breath steady but his heart racing. He had been struggling with controlling both his fire and ice in harmony—every time he tried, one would overpower the other, leaving him frustrated and drained.

“You can do this, Shoto,” Y/N’s soft voice echoed around him, though no one else could hear it. She stood beside him, her glitchy wings fluttering faintly. “Remember what I told you—balance comes from within, not from force.”

Shoto clenched his fists, his mind torn between his two halves. “It’s not that easy,” he muttered, the cold creeping up his right side as the heat flared on his left. “I’ve tried everything.”

Y/N stepped closer, her presence soothing. “You’ve been fighting against yourself, trying to control the elements instead of embracing them. You’re not just fire or ice—you’re both. Let them coexist, like two parts of a whole.”

He looked at her, her figure flickering slightly, but her eyes steady and full of belief. For a moment, the doubts that had always plagued him—the fear of becoming like his father, the resentment of using his fire—began to fade. In their place, a new resolve took root.

Closing his eyes, Shoto took a deep breath, letting go of the tension in his body. He visualized the two elements not as enemies, but as partners. The cold was his calm, his clarity; the heat was his passion, his drive. Together, they were his strength.

Slowly, he extended both hands, letting the ice and fire flow naturally, meeting at the center. Instead of fighting for dominance, they intertwined, swirling in harmony. The air around him crackled with energy, but it was controlled, purposeful.

When he opened his eyes, the training dummies in front of him were frozen solid, with delicate patterns of frost etched into their surfaces. At the same time, a thin line of fire traced through the ice, splitting them in two with precision.

He exhaled, a sense of relief and accomplishment washing over him. For the first time, he felt at peace with his powers—not as separate entities, but as parts of who he was.

Y/N smiled, her wings shimmering brighter for a moment. “See? I knew you could do it.”

Shoto turned to her, his heart swelling with gratitude. “I wouldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve helped me more than you know.”

Her smile turned wistful, and she reached out, her hand brushing his, though he couldn’t feel the touch. “I’m just here to remind you of what you already have inside, Shoto. You’ve always had this strength—you just needed to believe in it.”

As she began to fade once more, Shoto felt a pang of loss, but also a deep sense of connection. She might not always be visible, but her influence, her belief in him, would remain.

“Thank you,” he whispered, watching as she disappeared into the air, leaving behind a warmth that lingered in his heart.

And as he stood there, alone but not lonely, Shoto knew he would carry her guidance with him, wherever he went.

One afternoon during a class sparring session, Shoto paused mid-battle, his gaze flickering to where Y/N stood by the wall, her wings glitching and shimmering. He hesitated, just long enough for his opponent to land a hit that sent him sprawling.

“Erm.. Todoroki, what’s been going on with you?” Midoriya asked as he helped him up, concern etched on his face.

Shoto shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “It’s nothing. I just... got distracted.”

But it wasn’t nothing, and it wasn’t just distraction. His classmates had started to notice how often he seemed to be talking to himself, how his gaze would drift to empty spaces as if someone was there. The whispers began—quiet, anxious murmurs about whether Todoroki Shoto, the stoic and powerful student, was losing his mind.

One evening, as Shoto sat alone in the common room, Y/N appeared beside him, her wings flickering more than usual. She looked concerned, her brows furrowing as she studied him.

“They’re worried about you,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. “They think I’m crazy. That I’m talking to myself.”

Y/N’s expression grew pained, and she knelt beside him, her hand hovering just above his. “You’re not crazy, Shoto. You’re just... different. They don’t understand because they can’t see what you see.”

He turned to look at her, his heart heavy with confusion. “But why can’t they see you? Why am I the only one?”

Y/N hesitated, her wings glitching wildly for a moment before settling down. “Because you’re special,” she repeated, her voice barely audible. “But the reason... it’s something you have to discover on your own.”

Shoto’s life became a strange balance between the reality his classmates lived in and the world he shared with Y/N. He spent more time alone, retreating into the quiet places of the school where he could talk to her without worrying about the stares and whispers.

The common room buzzed with the usual after-school chatter, but Shoto sat apart from the others, seemingly engrossed in his own world. Y/N was sitting beside him on the couch, her glitchy wings softly flickering in and out of view. They were deep in conversation, her voice a soothing presence amid the noise.

“You’re making great progress,” Y/N said with a gentle smile, her wings briefly flickering out before reappearing. “But remember, don’t push yourself too hard.”

Shoto nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I know. It’s just... there’s still so much I need to work on.”

“Who are you talking to?”

The sudden question pulled Shoto out of his conversation. He looked up to find Midoriya and Iida standing in front of him, both wearing identical expressions of concern.

Shoto blinked, momentarily disoriented. “What?”

“You’ve been sitting here, talking to... someone,” Midoriya said, glancing around the empty space beside Shoto. “But there’s no one here.”

Iida adjusted his glasses, his tone serious. “We’ve noticed this happening a lot recently, Todoroki. You seem to be having conversations with thin air. Is everything alright?”

Shoto hesitated, glancing at Y/N, who watched the exchange with a sad, knowing smile. He knew they couldn’t see her, couldn’t understand the connection he had with the angel that only he could perceive. But how could he explain it to them without sounding crazy?

“I... it’s nothing,” Shoto finally said, his voice quiet but firm. “Just... thinking out loud.”

Midoriya exchanged a worried look with Iida. “Todoroki, we’re your friends. If something’s bothering you, you can tell us.”

Shoto appreciated their concern, but he knew they wouldn’t understand. How could they? Y/N was a part of his reality that was invisible to everyone else, and he wasn’t ready to let go of the comfort she brought him.

“I’m fine,” Shoto insisted, a little more forcefully this time. “Really.”

Midoriya frowned but nodded slowly. “Okay. But if you ever need to talk, we’re here for you.”

With that, the two walked away, leaving Shoto alone once more. He let out a quiet sigh, turning back to Y/N, who was now watching him with a soft, almost apologetic expression.

“They’re worried about you,” she said gently.

“I know,” Shoto replied, his voice tinged with frustration. “But they wouldn’t understand.”

Y/N’s wings flickered as she leaned closer, her presence a comforting weight against the confusion swirling in his mind. “You’re not alone, Shoto. As long as you believe in me, I’ll be here, even if no one else can see me.”

Shoto nodded, feeling a sense of calm return. No matter what his classmates thought, as long as he had Y/N by his side, he knew he could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

But the more time they spent together, the more Y/N’s wings glitched, and the more fragmented her presence became. Sometimes she would fade entirely, only to reappear moments later, her form flickering like a faulty video feed.

“Something’s wrong,” Shoto said one day as they sat together on the roof of the school, the sky darkening into twilight. “Your wings... they’re not supposed to do that, are they?”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with a sadness he couldn’t quite understand. “No, they’re not,” she admitted. “But it’s because... I’m not meant to be here. Not like this.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his heart tightening at the thought of losing her.

She sighed, her wings fluttering weakly. “I was sent to guide you, Shoto. But the more time I spend here, the more unstable I become. It’s because... I’m not supposed to get too close.”

Shoto’s breath caught in his throat. “Too close?”

Y/N nodded, looking away as if ashamed. “I’m not supposed to feel the way I do. Angels aren’t meant to emotionally attach themselves with the people they watch over. It makes us... vulnerable.”

Shoto stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. “But what if I feel the same way? What if... I don’t want you to leave?”

She looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. “Shoto, if I stay, I might disappear completely. But if I go, you’ll be alone again.”

“I don’t care,” he said, his voice firm. “I’d rather have you with me, even if it’s just for a little while longer.”

Y/N’s wings flickered, the light from them dimming slightly as she leaned closer to him. “Then I’ll stay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “For as long as I can.”

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N’s presence became more fragile. Her wings, once vibrant and full of light, now glitched constantly, sometimes fading entirely for moments at a time. But despite this, she stayed by Shoto’s side, guiding him, comforting him, and helping him find strength in himself that he never knew he had.

But the price for her closeness was becoming too much to bear. Her energy was fading, and every day, she grew weaker. Shoto could see it, but he didn’t know how to stop it.

One night, as they stood together under the stars, Y/N’s wings began to glitch so badly that they flickered out entirely, leaving her looking almost human. She gasped, clutching at her chest as if in pain.

“Y/N!” Shoto reached out to her, his heart pounding with fear. “What’s happening?”

“I’m losing my connection,” she said, her voice strained. “If I stay any longer... I might disappear forever.”

He shook his head, panic rising in his chest. “No, you can’t. I need you, Y/N. Please, don’t leave me.”

Tears streamed down her face as she looked at him, her heart breaking. “Shoto, I love you. But if I stay, I’ll be gone forever. I need to go back, to regain my strength. But I promise... I’ll always be with you, even if you can’t see me.”

He stared at her, desperation in his eyes. “But how will I know you’re still there?”

She smiled through her tears, her form flickering like a dying flame. “You’ll feel it, Shoto. In your heart. I’ll always be with you, guiding you from afar. You just have to believe.”

And with that, she began to fade, her body dissolving into the night air, leaving only a soft, glowing light where she had been.

Shoto reached out, trying to grasp the light, but it slipped through his fingers, leaving him alone in the darkness.

Shoto Todoroki stood on the roof of U.A. High, gazing out at the horizon as the first rays of dawn broke through the darkness. It had been weeks since Y/N had disappeared, but he could still feel her presence, a gentle warmth in his heart that hadn’t been there before.

His classmates had stopped whispering, and the rumors about his sanity had faded away. But Shoto knew that Y/N had been real, that her love had been real. And though she was gone, she had left him with a gift—the strength to believe in himself, and the hope that one day, they would be together again.

As he closed his eyes, he felt a soft breeze brush against his cheek, he felt a soft breeze brush against his cheek, as if Y/N's presence was lingering in the air around him. He looked up at the sky, the dawn breaking with hues of pink and gold. The world seemed brighter, more vibrant, and he knew it was because of her.

Shoto had changed. The ice that once encased his heart had thawed, replaced by a warmth he hadn’t felt before. He no longer felt alone, even when he was by himself. Y/N's love had left an imprint on him, one that would guide him through the rest of his life.

As he turned to head back inside, a familiar glimmer caught his eye—a soft, fluttering light that seemed to be dancing on the edge of his vision. He smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over him.

“I’ll keep believing,” he whispered to the wind. “I’ll keep our promise.”

And so, with Y/N’s love and guidance forever etched into his heart, Shoto Todoroki continued his journey, stronger and more hopeful than ever before. Though the world might never see her, he knew that she would always be with him, a silent guardian in the shadows of his life.

The classroom was quiet, the afternoon light streaming through the windows as the students settled into their seats. Shoto sat at his desk, his gaze distant as he replayed the conversation he’d had with Midoriya the day before.

“Midoriya,” Shoto had asked, his voice low and hesitant. “Have you ever wanted something so badly, but you know it can’t happen? Like… it’s impossible?”

Midoriya had looked up from his notebook, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I think everyone’s felt that way at some point. But… have you ever heard of manifestation?”

Shoto frowned. “Manifestation?”

“It’s the idea that if you focus on something hard enough, if you really believe in it, you can bring it into reality. I know it sounds strange, but sometimes, what we think is impossible can become possible if we put enough energy into it.”

Shoto had nodded, filing the idea away in the back of his mind. That night, as he lay in bed, he tried to concentrate on Y/N, her smile, her voice, the way her wings flickered in and out. He willed her to come back, to be real again, with every fiber of his being.

But now, a week later, there had been no sign of her. He was beginning to lose hope, wondering if he’d just imagined everything—if Y/N was truly gone.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden, loud entrance of Kaminari, who burst through the classroom door with his phone in hand, grinning from ear to ear.

“Guys, you’ve gotta check this out!” Kaminari exclaimed, waving his phone around as he approached the group gathered near the front of the room. “There’s this new VR game that just came out, and it’s insane! You can actually talk to angels in it—like, full-on conversations and everything!”

Shoto’s heart skipped a beat. He turned in his seat, watching as Kaminari pulled up the game on his phone, showing the others. On the screen, an angel with glitchy wings floated, her face eerily familiar to Shoto, though he knew it wasn’t exactly her.

“It’s so realistic,” Mina said, leaning in to get a better look. “You can customize everything—their voice, their appearance… It’s like they’re really there with you.”

Kaminari nodded excitedly. “Yeah, and it’s not just that. The angels remember things, like conversations you’ve had before, and they even give advice based on what you tell them. It’s wild!”

As his classmates crowded around Kaminari’s phone, laughing and talking about the game, Shoto felt a strange mix of emotions. Was this the result of his attempts at manifestation? Had he somehow brought Y/N back, but only in a digital form that anyone could access?

The idea left him feeling both hopeful and hollow. She wasn’t truly back, but a part of her seemed to linger in this new, unexpected way. Maybe this was the universe’s answer to his longing, a reminder that even though some things couldn’t happen exactly as he wanted, they could still find a way to exist.

He wasn’t sure what to do with this realization, but as he watched his classmates interact with the virtual angel, Shoto couldn’t help but feel a bittersweet comfort. Perhaps, in some small way, Y/N was still with him—just not in the way he had hoped.

Late that night, Shoto sat in his dimly lit room, the quiet hum of the VR console filling the space. The headset felt heavy in his hands as he hesitated, staring at the screen that prompted him to begin. He knew it wouldn’t truly be her, but the thought of seeing Y/N’s face again, even in a digital form, was enough to make his heart ache with anticipation.

With a deep breath, he slipped the headset over his eyes and powered on the game. The world around him dissolved into a soft glow, and slowly, the environment began to take shape—a serene, ethereal garden, bathed in the light of a setting sun. The colors were warm, golden hues blending with soft greens, and in the center of it all stood the figure he had longed to see.

Y/N was there, her glitchy wings gently fluttering, casting a shimmering light that reflected off the virtual petals around her. She turned to face him, a familiar smile gracing her lips.

“Hello, Shoto,” she greeted, her voice exactly as he remembered—soft, soothing, and filled with warmth. “It’s been a while.”

Shoto’s breath caught in his throat. Even though he knew she wasn’t real, the sight of her, so vivid and alive, made it difficult to hold back his emotions. He took a step closer, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I… I wasn’t sure if this would work,” he confessed, his voice trembling slightly. “But I needed to see you again. Even if it’s just like this.”

Y/N’s smile remained gentle as she tilted her head slightly, her eyes filled with a kindness that seemed to pierce through the digital façade. “I’m here now, Shoto. And I’m glad you found me.”

Shoto swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. “It’s not the same,” he whispered. “But… it’s better than nothing.”

The angel in front of him nodded, her wings flickering slightly as she moved closer. “I may not be exactly as you remember,” she said, her tone understanding, “but I’m here to help you, just like before.”

Shoto reached out a hand, hesitating just before his fingers could touch her. He knew it would feel cold, artificial—nothing like the warmth he associated with her—but the gesture alone gave him some comfort.

“Can you still… guide me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s expression softened, her wings fluttering with a faint glow. “Of course,” she replied, her voice reassuring. “I’ll always be here for you, Shoto. Just like before.”

And as Shoto stood there, bathed in the gentle light of the virtual garden, he allowed himself to believe, just for a moment, that this was real—that she was real. In this world, she could exist again, even if only in pixels and code.

It wasn’t the same as having her by his side in reality, but it was a connection nonetheless—a way to hold onto the part of her that had helped him through his darkest times. And for now, that was enough.

#bnha x reader #bnha #bnha fluff #mha #todoroki fluff #todoroki x y/n #todoroki headcanons #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #todoroki mha #shoto x you #shoto fluff

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elsweetheart · 2 years ago

Note

this is my first type submitting something so im kinda shy pffft but i luv ur writing so much !! i was wondering if u could write about abby supporting us while gaming ?? i think that would be super cute and she’d get all protective when we flinch cuz the game is too scary.. -🐰(if not taken already)

thx !! 💕💕💕💕 kinda seein this for college!abby

she’d be sat on your bed behind you, watching you sat at your console, your character creeping through dark abandoned hallways. abby hadn’t been concentrating on your game, texting her sports team group-chat about the game coming up — but when a loud sound occurred, your character under a jumpscare fuelled attack she saw you flinch, a frightened whimper quietly leaving you as you mashed at the controls, trying to fight whatever it was off as you sucked in a deep inhale.

tossing her phone aside on the bed, abby stood up, towering over you in your seat. she bent down behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling back slightly to look at you, smoothing the backs of her fingers over where she kissed. “baby, if it’s too scary i don’t think it’s a good idea you play. we can find something else for you.” she suggested, voice quiet and smooth in your ear. you bit your lip in concentration, eyes still trained on the screen in concentration.

“no abs. not that scary.” you murmured, distracted. she stood back up to her full height, watching your character walking back through the dark corridor, holding just a flashlight. a few moments went by before you were jumpscared again, jolting in your seat with a frustrated but barely audible cry.

“c’mon, baby.” was all she had to say and you sighed, pausing the game with a pout.

“everyone else has played it.” you complain, sulkily like abby was the one who made the game scary. she sat back on the bed with an understanding and sympathetic smile, holding her arms out to you.

“i know, sweet girl. maybe it’s just not for you, yeah?” she pulled you onto her lap when you approached, smoothing her hand over your hair. you nuzzled into her, urging her to lay back on the bed so you could cuddle properly.

“hm.” you reply, noncommittal. you’d rather cuddle than play that game anyway.

#🐰 anon #abby anderson x reader #college!abby #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson prompt #abby anderson drabble

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year ago

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

after - part thirty

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

you make an unwanted but surprising detour, and find something of a silver lining.

a/n: ok I know I said the weekend and I know I’ve sucked at posting but I’ve finally got back into the swing of writing and I’ve written almost up to part 32 so here we go!!! thank u forever for ur support bbys 💕

word count: 6k

warnings: y’all know the drill.

✨@friskito-library for updates on new parts/works✨

“You’re okay,” you say over again. You’ve said it so many times in the last half hour it’s starting to sound less like words, more like meaningless sounds.

The carpet is stained with blood, crimson pools stretching outwards, but you’ve kept Ellie away from it, still on the ground, pressed against the wall beside the bedroom door, which now lays on the floor in front of you.

She hasn’t stopped crying, and neither have you. Hot tears flooded your cheeks as soon as Henry’s body thumped to the floor, and Joel had stood there for a long moment, one hand covering his mouth. Ellie sobbed loudly in your ear, and you called your husband’s name, your voice cracking around it.

He half-turned to look at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, blinking wildly. “What d’we—what just…Liv—”

“We need to bury them,” you told him bluntly, your voice somehow strong as more tears fell down your cheeks, dripping off your chin and into Ellie’s hair, “and we need to get out of here.”

Loudly, he clears his throat, and you can see the shift in his expression. That hard mask of his, all too familiar to you now, falls into place. He steps into the bedroom, returning a second later with blankets, and covers both the boys’ bodies with them. Then he comes back to where you’re still sitting with Ellie and crouches down.

“There’s a hardware store next door. I’m gonna go check it out, see if I can find some shovels or something to…” He trails off, wetness creeping into his eyes, and you nod.

“Go,” you tell him, jutting your chin towards the rifle, propped beside the door. “Be safe.”

He leans in, pecks your forehead. “Always. You’ll be okay with…?”

You nod again. “I’ll get her cleaned up.” As soon as he disappears out the door, you curl your hand around Ellie’s shoulder, shaking her slightly. “Ellie? C’mon, honey, can you get up?”

She sniffles loudly, but nods against your collar. It’s slow going, you favouring your good leg as you slide back up the wall, taking her with you, trying to shield her from seeing the boys’ covered bodies. Once you’re standing, you steer her toward the bathroom, keeping one arm braced across her shoulders. She keeps her head tucked beneath your chin, and you try to ignore the way your heart constricts in your chest.

You just want to protect her.

In the bathroom, you give her a good once over, making sure Sam hadn’t injured her in their tussle. After a moment, she waves you off, mumbling that she’s fine, and starts rummaging in the cabinets beneath the sink. There’s a near-triumphant look on her face when she produces a mostly-looted first aid kit, but there’s a wrapped roll of gauze tucked in one of the pockets. “We should change the bandage on your leg.”

You’re both silent as you work, peeling away the bandage Joel had wrapped you with last night. There’s no water to clean it out, but Ellie darts from the bathroom for a moment and returns with her backpack, producing an alcohol wipe.

You slam your palm against the counters as she cleans the blood from your skin, trying to avoid the wound, but it burns like hell. “Sorry,” she murmurs, but you shake your head.

After the gauze has been tied, Ellie sinks back on her heels as you adjust your torn pants around the bandages, testing your weight slightly. The far-off look in her eye is not unlike the look you’d seen on her face when you’d escaped the chaos of last night, after that Infected kid had ripped into Kathleen.

“You don’t have to,” you start, and your voice makes her flinch, but pulls her gaze up to you, “but I’m here, if you want to talk about it. You know that, right?”

She nods, and a single tear slips down her cheek. “I tried to save him.”

Your chest feels tight. “Sam?”

Another nod, and slowly, she gets to her feet, looking anywhere but your face. “I thought…I thought if I gave him some of my blood, then maybe…” She shakes her head. “It isn’t fair.”

“No,” you agree, offering her your hand. “It isn’t.”

“I was really scared,” she tells you, wrapping her fingers around yours, “when you stayed behind back there. Joel said he’d go back for you, once we were safe, but I thought—”

“Shh,” you hush, tugging on her hand and pulling her against your chest again. She buries her face in your collar once more and you hug her close, planting your cheek on top of her head. “I need you to listen to me, okay?”

You can feel her nod, and she gives a quiet, “Okay.”

“Here to Wyoming, I have no idea what’s going to happen. Something tells me that everything we’ve been through so far has been the easy part, and that scares the hell out of me. But what I do know is that from here on out, we stay together. And Joel and I will keep our promises: we’ll keep you safe. No matter what. You understand me?” She squeezes her arms around your middle, but says nothing. “Ellie?”

She pulls back, tear tracks on her face and nods. “I understand.”

You cup her warm cheek in your palm and wipe a tear away. “Good.”

Joel calls your name suddenly, his voice echoing through the hotel room, and you touch Ellie’s shoulder before stepping around her and out of the bathroom. His brow is hard when you look at him, but he’s got a shovel in his hands, and over his shoulder, you can see a wheelbarrow and another shovel.

You sidestep the covered bodies, trying to ignore the way your throat seizes when you see Sam’s much smaller form from the corner of your eye. Joel reaches for you as soon as you’re close enough, pulling you into the doorway of the hotel room.

“She okay?”

You sigh. “Are you?”

He shakes his head. Not now. His lips form a tight line. “We need to get this done.” But then his free hand comes to rest on your hip, his eyes darting down between you, and you see a crack in his mask. “How’s the leg?”

“I’ll live.”

“Olivia—”

“It’s fine, Joel, okay? Like you already said, we go slow.” You glance over your shoulder at the bathroom just as Ellie steps through the doorway. “We stay together.”

Stepping out of the bathroom completely, Ellie’s expression is the polar opposite of what you’d seen a few moments ago. The hard mask of her expression mirrors Joel’s, and your throat bobs as she steps quickly to where you’re both standing. Wordlessly, she grabs a shovel from the wheelbarrow, and takes off across the hotel parking lot, towards the other side of the road, where the pavement gives way to grassy ground.

You go to reach for one of the other shovels, but Joel stops you. Your brow raises. “You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m staying in here while you two go dig holes.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll grab their bags. Might be something useful that Henry had. See what you can find.”

You stifle your misplaced anger and nod. “Okay.”

While Joel and Ellie dig, you consolidate your gear. Ellie’s backpack was the only one between the three of you, and you can’t bring yourself to carry Sam’s, so Henry’s bag becomes Joel’s new one. Flashlights, some batteries, a singular can of beans, a pencil, a few of the comics Sam and Ellie had bonded over, a knife, the empty guns the boys had threatened you with back in the high-rise. The parchment-wrapped food you’d given them.

Henry’s voice echoes through your head.

New day, new start.

Except it’s not a new day. It’s the same day, and you want to scream with everything that’s happened. The shred of hope you’d found in those two boys, snuffed out in an instant.

You ignore the prick in your eyes as you refill the bags, sheath the knife at your hip, put the comics into Ellie’s backpack. Once you’re done, you get to your feet, still favouring your leg as you call out to Joel. “I’m gonna go see what else I can find in the hardware store.”

He nods and points to the rifle he’d set on the ground. “Be safe.”

With the gun slung over your shoulder, you head for the building behind the hotel. There’s the hardware store, and attached to it, what you think might have once been a coffee shop. Most of the storefront is shattered, and you can see the space Joel had cleared, the glass brushed away from the window ledge, enough for you to climb through.

It’s dark inside, and you flick on a flashlight, the beam tracing across the mess inside. You spot a few shovels on the ground — most of them broken — and assume Joel hadn’t gone much farther than he had to. You do a quick sweep, making sure there are no Infected lurking in the darkened corners or behind closed doors.

What would happen, you wonder, if you were bitten again? Sure, you survived the first one, but who’s to say a second one wouldn’t do you in? Ellie was fine after the bite she’d gotten in the museum back in Boston, but did that mean the same for you?

The image of Sam attacking Ellie, thrashing at her while she screamed for you and Joel, creeps into your mind. The terror on her face — not entirely from being bit, you now realize, but also from the fact that it was her friend now trying to kill her.

You shake your head, brush away the tears that have formed.

Just keep going.

The store is empty of Infected, save for one you find tucked inside what you assume was once the break room. Stuck to the wall, fungus sprouting everywhere you look. It’s similar to the one you’d found down in the subway, the one that had scared Tess when you’d gone to confront Robert.

The first time you met Ellie.

So much has changed since then, it feels like a punch in the gut. You stumble back out of the room, the door swinging shut behind you, and drop to your knees, ignoring the pang in your leg as you hit the floor. The rifle nearly slips from your shoulder, and the flashlight pinches between your knuckles on the ground.

You open your mouth to scream, and no sound comes out.

A few minutes pass, you’re sure of it, banging your fist against the long-broken concrete tile, tears streaming down your cheeks and wetting the ground beneath you. Henry and Sam, Tess, Bill and Frank. The most recent losses sting, but they only make way for the ones that haunt you, remnants of the past you’ve kept buried too long.

Emily and Henry. Deanna. Nick. Tommy.

You don’t know if they’re alive. In your mind, the kids are still kids, but you realize that they’d be far from it now if they’re still breathing, still themselves.

Not…

You shake your head, pressing your forehead to the mossy floor and shoving your hands through your hair. You can’t think like that. It’s a path you can’t let yourself go down, one that only leads to dark places, places you’ve explored before.

Places you refuse to go.

But the loss still rolls through you, pulling more faces to the surface. Ones you know are gone.

Your parents. Anna. Sarah.

It’s just not fair. Any of it.

Sighing, you force yourself to your feet, using the rifle like a crutch to get upright. You swipe at your cheeks, lifting the flashlight and starting down the aisles.

You don’t find much. The store has clearly been picked over since the outbreak, and there’s not much left, but you manage to find a few things of use. A length of rope, a small hunting knife, an empty canteen, some camping cookware. It’s mostly metal cups, dinged and dented in places, but it’s something. You find another bag too — a canvas backpack similar to the one Henry had carried — and stuff your new items inside.

You realize you’ve been gone long enough that Joel will start to worry, and head for the front of the hardware store. As you reach the broken window, the coffee shop next door catches your eye, and you see there’s an opening that leads into it from the hardware store. Whether or not the opening was always there, you’re not sure, but you step through anyway, swinging the flashlight beam behind the high counter, craning your neck to make sure nothing’s lurking in the shadows.

Satisfied that there’s nothing, you make your way around the counter, poking at the shelves and cupboards. A rat scurries out of one of the cupboards and makes you jump, but when you flinch back, your boot connects with something that sounds hollow, and your brow raises.

You move slow, praying it’s not another rat, but when you pull on the cupboard, it won’t open. Locked. Brow furrowing, you sink down, pulling the knife from your belt. It takes a bit of finesse, tongue pressed between your teeth, but when you finally get the lock free, falling back on your ass with a huff, your breath catches when you see what was locked away.

Coffee.

Not instant, but the good stuff. Three bags of it. The kind that Frank always plied you with when you visited Lincoln. The kind that Cowan always had on hand just for you when you two were still…

The kind that you and Joel would share back in Austin, your breaks from the hardware store spent getting your caffeine fix and stealing kisses in the alleyway.

There’s even a stack of to-go cups beside the bags of coffee grounds, along with a French press.

You just start laughing. The tears come back, and you laugh until your sides hurt. It’s like the universe is saying, not fair? How’s this for not fair?

Calling it a silver lining would be pushing it. A bright spot, maybe.

Once your laughter and tears subside, you take all of it, stashing it with everything else you found in the hardware store. You can’t wait to tell Joel.

As soon as you step back outside, however, the sight before you sobers you again.

Joel is tamping down the dirt again, smoothing it out with the end of the shovel. Your throat bobs as you head back to where he stands, favouring your good leg. The pain has lessened some, but the ache is still there. Go slow, you remind yourself. Go slow, stay together.

As you reach Joel, Ellie comes into view, wearing her jacket, Joel’s in her hand. She’s holding Sam’s writing board. Your heart sinks and Joel reaches for you, brow raising at the bag over your shoulder, but you wave him off, leaning against him as Ellie hands him his coat.

The graves are unmarked, and none of you say a word as Ellie sets Sam’s board onto the ground. The wind whooshes in your ears as she straightens and steps away from the graves. She turns and looks back at you both, and her voice is flat as she asks, “Which way’s west?”

Joel tilts his head, looking over yours, past the hotel and the hardware store. The road stretches on until it fades into the horizon. Ellie just nods and starts walking toward the curb. You open your mouth to call after her, but something stops you.

Joel’s arm settles across your shoulders, and he squeezes you against him, pressing his mouth to your temple. You sling your arms around his waist, pulling him closer, inhaling deeply.

You look down at the grave — Sam’s grave.

Written on the board: I’m sorry.

“Let’s go,” Ellie calls with that still-flat tone, and you both turn to see her standing at the road, looking expectantly back at you.

You give her a nod, stepping away from Joel as he reaches down for Henry’s backpack. He takes the rifle from you and you take his coat, offering him your free hand as he slings the bag over his shoulder, then the rifle. He takes it, twines your fingers together, and you start toward the pavement. His grip on your hand is tight, and you can tell he’s trying to take some of your weight, to keep you off your injured leg. You let him.

Ellie’s eyes are glued to your linked hands as you reach the curb. They flick to your face for a second and you open your mouth again to say something, but she turns before you can get a word out. Joel squeezes your hand, and you can feel him looking at you, but you shake your head.

Time to go.

Somewhere outside of Omaha…

It’s slow fucking going.

Joel knew it would be. He doesn’t want to push you harder than he needs to. Between your leg and the concussion you’d more than likely received (and barely got over) in Kansas City, he’s watching you like a hawk. He notices Ellie doing the same, the girl lurching for your side when you wobble, slipping herself under your shoulder to give you some support when your leg refuses to. He gives her a nod each time he sees it, a silent thank you, and she just nods in return.

The days are quiet. None of you have much to say, and in all honesty, Joel’s still reeling from everything that happened in KC. The scene plays over again and again in his mind, the way you’d grabbed Ellie and tried to shield her from it, the way Henry had stared at Sam’s lifeless body.

What did I do…?

It’s all haunting him, every goddamned thing. Everything that’s happened to you since you left Boston, and hell, everything before that. It sits heavy on his chest, a gnawing pain that seems to have woven itself around his ribs, squeezing tighter when his mind wanders away from the present moment, sifting through memories that play more like a horror movie than a lifetime.

From the moment you left Boston, almost nothing has gone as you’d planned it. Joel knows he should have expected more than a few hiccups, but…losing Tess that way. Everything you uncovered in Lincoln. You’d nearly been killed twice in Kansas City, and if Kathleen hadn’t brought you with her, if that horde hadn’t appeared when it did, he doesn’t know what…

“Joel,” your voice calls, soft, accompanied by a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. He blinks, your voice muffled in his bad ear as you say his name again. “Baby, eat something, please.”

He scrubs his hand down his face, forcing himself out of his head. You’re stopped for the night, tucked in the back room of a long-forgotten convenience store. Ellie is passed out on the sleeping bag behind you, her coat zipped to her chin, hands folded underneath. She looks so much younger while she sleeps, and it makes the pain in Joel’s chest tighten when her brow furrows and she mumbles something unintelligible.

Your gaze follows his, your head turning to Ellie as she mutters again. You reach out, your hand landing on her leg, squeezing softly. “Hey,” he hears you say, “you’re okay.”

Joel’s eyes flutter shut, and suddenly he’s back in that hotel room, seeing the pair of you pressed to the wall, hearing your broken voice mutter the same two words over and over again. He can smell the iron tang of blood in the air, the gunshot still echoing through his head.

You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.

Ellie says your name, more of a whimper than a word, and Joel ignores the sting in his eyes as he opens them again. He can see the wetness on her cheeks from where he’s sat, the camping lantern set between the two of you the only light in the space. “We’re right here,” you continue, your voice still so soft. “You’re safe, El. Nothing’s gonna happen, alright? Go back to sleep.”

She nods and Joel swallows back the lump in his throat.

Turning back to him, you slide the half-empty can across the ground. “Eat, Joel.”

He bites back his protest. There’s that glint of determination in your eye, one that’s been there as long as he’s known you, and he knows you’re not taking no for an answer. He’s been off since you left the hotel, and he knows you’ve noticed. You know him too well, and enough to know not to press him, not yet. He doesn’t know what he would say to you right now if you did.

You give a slight nod when he picks up the can, tips it back until the cold…soup? He thinks? Whatever it is, it’s long past its best-before date, but there’s something resembling a vegetable inside, the broth made slightly more tolerable by the bit of water you’d mixed in.

Once it’s empty, Joel sets the can down as quietly as he can, then gestures to you. “Lemme see your leg.”

This time, it’s you biting back your protest. He sees it in the crease of your brow, the way you bite the inside of your lip as you plant your hands on the ground, shuffling awkwardly to his side. You wince as he curls a hand around your knee, lifting your leg into his lap. There’s blood on the bandage wrapped around your thigh, red blooming through the gauze, and Joel grits his teeth. Carefully, he pulls the bandage away and you inhale sharply, reaching up and fisting the shoulder of his coat in your hand.

His brows pull down. Ideally, you would have had stitches, or some of that medical glue crap he remembers you having back in Boston. Probably brought it with you when you left, too, but your bag is long gone, most likely looted by Kathleen’s cronies. Ellie had found bandages back in the hotel, some stroke of luck, but they’ve run out, and Joel’s resorted to tearing up strips of his t-shirt to wrap around your thigh.

But it’s not enough. The going slow hasn’t been slow enough. “Where’s the water?” he mutters, tossing the soiled bandage away. You jut your chin to your backpacks, on the ground beside the lantern.

“My bag,” you answer, and Joel reaches for it, pulls out the canteen you’d found back in the hardware store. He pulls out his mostly torn t-shirt too, wetting the sleeve and using it like a cloth. You whimper as he cleans away some of the blood, bending slightly to inspect your skin. It looks just as bad as it had that night, if not a little worse.

Your fingers tighten in his coat, your mouth pressed to his shoulder, biting the fabric of his coat to combat the pain. “I know,” he murmurs softly, turning his head slightly to kiss your forehead. “I’m sorry, baby; we can’t let this get infected.” It’s a miracle it’s not already, but he doesn’t want to say that out loud. “We need to keep you off your feet for a while, somehow. It’s not getting any better.”

You shake your head, pain flaring in your eyes. “We can’t stop, Joel. Not here. It’s not safe, it’s not…” A tear falls down your cheek. “It’s only been a few days.”

“It’s been two weeks, Liv,” he tells you, rubbing his palm over your knee as he wipes at more blood. “Two weeks, and you’re still bleeding. We have to do something.”

Your head turns, your gaze landing on Ellie’s sleeping figure. When you look back at him, there’s a tear on your other cheek. “Fine. We find somewhere safe, for all of us. No splitting up, none of that bullshit ever again, you hear me?”

Joel actually cracks a laugh at your tone. “Yes, ma’am.” He leans in, gives you the softest kiss, forcing himself to ignore the way his blood rushes south at the little noise you make, the way your hand comes up to cup his scruffy jaw. “Like I’d let you out of my sight.”

The corner of your mouth twitches, but no smile follows. The pain in Joel’s chest squeezes slightly and he rubs your knee again, tilting his face up to press a kiss to your forehead. “Joel?”

“Yeah, baby?”

A tear rolls down your cheek, slips off the curve of your chin, splattering onto his sleeve. “Tell me we’re gonna be okay.”

His chest twinges again, his ribs constricting, mind reeling. He changes his grip, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to his chest.

“We’re gonna be okay.”

You know he’s right.

You know you’re all going to be okay, that your leg will heal and that you’ll find someplace safe to be while you do. You want to believe that everything you’ve lost thus far isn’t just a precursor to more. You want to believe Tommy is still in Wyoming, and you want to believe that you’ll survive to see him, to see the look on Joel’s face when he sees his brother again.

You want to believe Ellie’s nightmares will stop, that the pained expression that crosses Joel’s face when he thinks you’re not looking will go away, that the way your whole body is tense all day, every day, waiting for the other shoe to drop, that it’ll all cease.

You have a sinking feeling that the only way those will stop…

You can’t even say the words out loud. You won’t.

It’s all gonna be okay.

It has to be.

The Omaha QZ was a third of the size of Boston, and only lasted three years past the outbreak. Vaguely, you can remember the reports, soldiers passing information back and forth through the radios, the same radios you’d camped out at with Cowan, desperate to hear news of your family, of Joel’s.

God, it’s all so long ago, isn’t it? A lifetime.

Knowing what you do, you steer clear of the mostly-standing QZ walls. It’s been the same since you left Kansas City: Joel takes the lead, Ellie covers his bad side, and you stay close to her. If you so much as wobble, she’s there, tucked under your arm, keeping you upright.

“Thanks, kid.”

She only ever just nods.

Eventually, the city gives way to nature, the skyline receding, replaced with thick forests and hills, rivers and ponds. It reminds you vaguely of the cabin near Lincoln, where Joel had taken you for your honeymoon. There are paths through the forest, dug deep in the dirt, lined with tire tracks and footprints. It’s a good a path as any, though it does your leg no favours.

A few hours into the hike, Ellie spots something through the trees, halting you all, pointing. “What is that?”

Joel follows her raised finger, steps off the path just enough to disappear from view. You can still hear his movements, and just when he’s been gone long enough to make anxiety prick in your gut, he reappears, a satisfied look on his face.

“Good?” you ask, squeezing Ellie’s shoulder as she helps you forward.

He nods, offering you his hand as you follow him off the path, Ellie at your side. You move extra slowly, mindful of every step, testing the resistance before planting your foot, making sure your boots won’t slide. Joel stays close, his fingers twined with yours, only going a few feet ahead to poke around the trees, the rifle raised.

The forest gives way to a clearing after a bit, and then you can see it for real. Halfway up a hill, high up enough to see in every direction, is a watchtower. Your eyes scan the structure, praying to whoever’s listening that there’s nothing wrong with it. You can make out a high metal fence surrounding the tower, topped with barbed wire. To you, it looks like heaven.

“Who built that?” Ellie asks.

“Probably park rangers,” Joel tells you, squinting up at the tower. “It’s too far out to be FEDRA. They would have used them before, to keep an eye on things, make sure no one got lost hiking in the woods. It’ll be a good vantage point; we’ll be able to see in every direction.” His gaze lowers, sweeps through the clearing. “We’ll be safe, for a while.”

“A while?” Ellie repeats, and you can hear the twinge of panic in her voice. It makes guilt claw at your insides.

Joel speaks before you have the chance to. “We need to stay put for a bit, give Liv’s leg a chance to heal. Two weeks, maybe more.”

She swallows hard enough you can see her throat bob. “And then?”

“Then we keep going,” you tell her, squeezing her shoulder again. “Together.”

She just nods.

You and Ellie wait at the base of the hill while Joel heads up to the tower. There’s a clear path leading up to the fence gate, an overturned truck jammed between a few trees nearby. No sign of people, that you can see, or Infected. The tension in you eases ever so slightly, but when Joel disappears again, it comes right back.

Ellie’s silent as you wait, but your guilt won’t keep its mouth shut. “I’m sorry,” you say softly, “for slowing us down.”

Her head whips in your direction so fast you worry she’ll hurt herself. “What?”

“It’s my fault,” you say, gesturing to your leg, the bandage poking through your jeans. “If I hadn’t…we’d be closer to Wyoming by now if I wasn’t…”

She actually rolls her eyes at you. “You didn’t get shot on purpose. Or kidnapped. Joel told me why you stayed behind, when they started shooting at us. We’d all be dead right now if you hadn’t done what you did. You don’t have to apologize for it.” The corner of her lip tugs up, and it’s the closest thing you’ve seen to a smile on her face since… “Y’know, you’re kind of a badass, Liv.”

You lift a brow, narrowing your eyes slightly. “Only kind of?”

Ellie laughs, and the anxiety in your gut turns to triumph. “More than kind of.” She slings her other arm around your waist, keeping you upright and hugging you at the same time, and your chest grows warm. You hug her back, leaning down to press your cheek to the top of her head.

Joel reappears a few minutes later, your own triumph mirrored in his face. Finally, something fucking good. He nods, offering you his hand again. It takes time, your leg betraying you as the hill slopes up, and it takes both of them on either side of you, your arms draped over both shoulders and Joel ducking to make up the height difference, but eventually, you make it up the hill. There are clear paths dug in the dirt, what look like single tire tracks marring the ground.

“Bikers?” you ask, your brow lifting as Joel releases you to push the large gate open. It’s reminiscent of Lincoln, and you swallow back the comparison, refusing to let it get to you. “Anything useful up there?”

“Couple’a gas cans in the shed,” Joel tells you, jutting his chin toward the rusted metal structure just inside the gate. “Some stuff up there, few beds, propane. Dunno how long it’ll last us, but it’s enough for now.”

Ellie’s in awe as you step through the fence, craning her head back to get a good look. She squints up at the watchtower, shielding her eyes from the light, and you laugh. “Go on,” you nudge her, gesturing to the stairs. “We’ll meet you up there.”

You see her eyes dart to Joel, who nods as he closes the gate and locks it shut, and then she’s off like a shot, darting up the stairs with a broad grin on her face. Joel grunts as he takes more of your weight, his arm moving to curl around your waist. You look up at him, sure your guilt is clear as day in your eyes, but he brushes it off, leaning in to give you a soft kiss. “Hush,” he mutters, starting to lead you to the stairs. “Let’s go.”

You have to stop for a breather more than either of you would like to admit. It’s a few steps, then stop, a few steps, then stop. Over and over, and you’re half-sure your leg is worse than it was on the ground, but as soon as you reach the top, it doesn’t matter.

You can see everything. There’s not that much to see, to be truthful — it’s a lot of trees and trees and oh yeah, more trees. But you can make out the roads, the pathways that wind toward the watchtower. You can see the city off in the distance, the crumbling buildings making for a fitting skyline. And the windows wrap the watchtower, the glass all intact, a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the world around you. Nothing’s getting close to you without one of you spotting it.

You’re safe.

Joel was being modest when he said there was some stuff up the tower. The beds have actual damn mattresses on them, and Ellie’s already started laying out your sleeping bags. Joel tries to get you to sit, but your curiosity gets the better of you, inspecting the desk in one corner of the room. The drawers are locked, but the wood is old, and it only takes a few jimmies of your knife to have the thing popping open. A handful of bullets roll around the bottom as you slide the drawer out, and you grin at Joel as you pull out a full box of ammunition that you know will fit both your guns.

The propane turns out to be a few tiny canisters, small enough to power a camping stove you find tucked under one of the beds. You’re all holding your breath as Joel hooks up the canister, turns the dial on the stove slowly. The blue flame flares to life and you can’t hold back your excited squeak, immediately reaching for your bag, pulling out the metal cups you’d pilfered from the hardware store. And…

“I’ve been saving this,” you tell Joel, chewing your lip as you rummage around in your bag. It’s a miracle he hadn’t found it yet, but you’d wrapped your findings carefully in your spare flannel, tucked at the bottom of your bag. “Didn’t want to give it to you until I knew we could actually make it.”

His brow raises as you pull out the French press, but then his entire face twists into shock when you pull out the first bag of coffee grounds. “You’re kiddin’.”

“Swear on my life, baby,” you grin, laughing as you pull out the second bag, setting it beside the first. “Care for a little pick me up?”

He’s on you a second later, wary of your leg but grabbing you up into his arms, kissing every inch of your face he can reach. You’re actually laughing, giggling as he peppers you with kisses, mumbling how much he loves you in between.

“Jackpot!” Ellie shouts suddenly, and you break apart, though Joel still holds you in his arms. “Look what I found!”

Grinning ear to ear, she shows you what she’s found: the largest first aid kit you’ve seen since the shelter in the mall back in Boston, a gigantic jug of water — sealed, and…

A baseball bat.

Not just any baseball bat. It’s much different from the one you’ve carried for so long. Wood instead of metal, though the handle is wrapped similarly with dark leather that has barely stood the test of time. But the end of the bat, the end where yours was dented from years of use, this bat is riddled with nails, sticking out at every angle, blunt side and sharp alike.

You grin at Ellie. “Jackpot.”

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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rosslynchsslut · 11 months ago

Text

Christmas Lights (Chris Sturniolo x Reader)

Summary: Chris and you are putting up Christmas lights, but Chris is pretty distracted by the super short pyjama shorts you're wearing.

WARNING: smutty, makes out sesh, p in v, overstim, pet names (mamas, baby, ma), soft dom!Chris, minors dni, 18+, Chris has a thing for your thighs kinda?, fluffy, unprotected sex (fem is on the pill, always be protected)

Chris's P.O.V

Y/N had been trying to put up lights since Thanksgiving barely fucking ended. She was a Christmas girl, everything had to be decorated by December the 1st and I had to be the one to help her with the task of untangling the lights and putting ornaments on the tree on the spots she couldn't reach. But plans changed ridiculously, I had to go to LA the on the 1st, so I couldn't help her decorate. Now, its the 12th and Matt's driving me over to her place. I decided to send her a heads up that I was coming home.

Me: hey bby, I'm omw

Baby💕: srsly? Today?

Me: yep

Baby💕: good, missed u. be home soon stay safe

Me: I will

I couldn't help the dumbass smile that I tried to fight off my face from forming. She was sweet for no reason all the time basically, it made me feel like more of a douchebag than usual.

Matt pulled up to Y/N's house that was already brightly lit up with colorful lights. The lights were on inside too, I thought she'd be in bed it was pretty late. "'Kay, thanks for the ride Matt." I quickly said gathering my shit and hopping out of the car without waiting for Matt's response. I quickly walked up to the front door and knocked, eager to get out of the cold and into the arms of my awesome girlfriend. I heard her giggling and tripping over air probably and I felt a smile creep onto my face yet again. The door swung open abruptly and she squealed before hurling herself at me. As we were hugging, I couldn't tell if she was crying or laughing or both. "God Chris, I missed you so much you idiot!" "I missed you to, ma." I carried her through the doorway and kicked the front door closed behind me. And my jaw dropped. The house looked amazing and totally decorated for Christmas. Lights lined every fucking corner and there was a gigantic Christmas tree by the couch with already presents underneath. "You like it?" She asked, kissing my cheek while wrapping her arms around my waist. "You did all this by yourself?" I breathed out, knowing very well she did I just loved messing with her. She held her chest in faux-offense "Uh duh, I live alone Chris. But its not done coz I still have to hang these lights up near the ceiling." She grabbed a stack of lights from the couch and only then did I notice how short her shorts were. Her short ass had to stand on her tip toes to reach the edge of the wall and when she did her shorts rode up revealing the curve of her ass, and I wanted to take her right there.

Y/N's P.O.V

I curse God for making me so goddamn short, it made Christmas decorating so much harder than it had to be. I was so close to hooking the light on the thin nail when I felt the large, warm hands of my boyfriend sneak around my back to rest on my abdomen underneath my shirt. I hummed in annoyance trying once again to hang the lights on the almost fucking invisible nail while Chris began to mouth at my neck. "Oh my god, Chris! You're amazing and awesome but I really want to get these up tonight." I half-giggled half-seriously told him. His lips were warm and comforting like his hands and I missed him so much that I admit I am definitely touch starved. He didn't stop the activity of his lips on my neck, and he began to rub soothing circles on my stomach. "God I love you, C-" I interrupted myself with a quiet moan as his tongue licks from my earlobe to where my neck and shoulder meet, he laughs at my reaction and smiles against my skin. He continues to nibble and suck my sweet spot causing me to lay head back on his shoulder and moan again with more intensity. He moves his hands from my stomach to take the lights from my hands and throw them carelessly away from us. I take the opportunity to spin around and press my lips against his, both of us groaning at the contact. Soon after the kiss becomes teeth, spit and tongue fighting for dominance over the kiss. I grab a fist ful of Chris's shirt and walk him forward to the couch, lay him down and straddle him without parting our sloppy kiss. I really wanna suck his dick so fucking bad right now.

Chris's P.O.V

When Y/N threw me back on the couch, I felt my dick twitch. She was so sexy but not in charge. I removed my lips from hers, a string of saliva connecting between our mouths. She already looked fucked out, face flushed, pupils blown wide and hair a complete mess. She was beautiful like this and I liked how no one else could see her like this. When she tried to kiss me again, I grabbed her hair gently giving her a reminder of who was really in charge. Her moan and nod were incredibly sexy and it went straight to my dick. I pulled her by her hair into a needy kiss, i wanted to feel her everywhere. Again I detached from the kiss and took off her shirt and bra, while she struggled to pop the buttons to my jeans. I laughed aloud a she bent down to use her teeth to get the metal button out of the fabric hole. "The one time you wanna wear jeans! Are you gonna help me asshole?" Her glare made me laugh again and I moved her head away from the jeans and unbuttoned them easily. Her face was adorable, filled with disbelief and betrayal. "Lay back for me mamas, let me see you." I whispered as I took off my jeans fully. Doing as told, Y/N laid on her back half naked and a horny expression on her face. I gave her a once over and bent over her to kiss her, my hands sneaking up her shorts to feel her wetness, she wasn't wearing any panties. I let a moan slip from my lips as I dragged my fingers through her slickness. Her gasps egged me on, and I slipped in two fingers. Almost instantly her back arched off the couch and a heavenly moan fell from her agape mouth. I began to be painfully aware of my growing hard-on in my boxers as I fingered her pussy. I think I could just cum in my underwear on the fact she was moaning so loudly and her back was arching so beautifully. "Louder baby, let me hear you." I urged her on as she began to gasp "ahh fuck, fuck" over and over signaling that she's close to her climax so I removed my fingers. "What the fuck? Yunno I was close!" She sat up on her elbows to stare me in the eyes, but I wasn't threatened. Instead maintaining the eye contact, I put the fingers that were giving her so much pleasure in my mouth moaning at the taste of her pretty pussy. Her mouth fell open again with a gasp of "Fuck" and I scoffed.

Y/N's P.O.V

When he scoffed, I swear I got wetter than before. Seeing Chris lick me off of his finger I loved so much did so many things to me and I felt like begging for his dick inside of me. I didn't know if I could take this anymore. "Chrissy, please fuck the shit outta me. I miss you, bub." The innocence in my voice tied with the nickname I could tell did something to him because his dick twitched and his pupils flooded with a newfound lust. He took off his boxers and I almost drooled, his pretty cock to finally freed from the black constraints of his underwear. "You wanna beg me again, mama?" His voice was whiny and filled with need but still so dark and sexy that I felt like I could've came. "Fuck me," I licked my lips, "Pretty please, baby." He whispered a "fucking god" and he snatched my shorts off. Finally, I was getting what I wanted for 11 days. "Yes, yes, yes" I whispered like a mantra and he jerked himself a couple times before aligning his leaky pink tip with my drooling entrance. He bit his lip and slid in, my back arched immediately. The pleasure-pain mix was so delicious my toes were already curling. "Fuck, fuck, ma... You're tight." He was whimpering as he bottomed out and laid his weight on top of me. I pulsed around his dick, pulling a breathy groan from Chris's pretty lips. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I began to rock my hips into him giving him the green light to hurry up and fuck me until I couldn't walk. He began to snap his hips into me, already going fast and hitting my g-spot with every thrust "Ah ah ah, god Chris" I moaned out as he threw his head back with a deep groan. His skin was flushed and his hair was wild, his lips were wet and swollen and I was proud of how I always made him like this. How I was wrapped around his dick, pulling whimpers from his throat. I reached up to touch his face and he looked down at me, slowing his thrust and hitting deeper bruising my cervix in a delicious way. "Oooh, Chris..." My voice was shrill and worn but it all felt so good. He grabbed my thighs and wrapped them around his back pounding into me once again, moaning and groaning louder while his heavy balls smacked against me, I felt so close. "Fuck, fuck, fuck" I gasped out, my warning that my high was almost there. "Yeah, mamas, let go come on. Cum, please fuck, yeaaah." Chris was so into it and his raspy voice pushed me to the edge, my orgasm washing over me in a powerful wave and it felt so good.

Chris's P.O.V

"Ahhhh!" Y/N yelled as her orgasm came over her, coating my dick her her essence. God, it was hot and I coukdnt help but to fuck her harder. I wanted to pull one after another out of her until she was spent. She yelled about the overstimulation and I laughed cruelly. "Yeah, you can take this dick ma. Imma make you take it." The cry that came from her throat threw me over, shooting my load into her pretty cunt but I couldn't stop I was so pussy drunk. I kept fucking into her, feeling my dick become over sensitive and our whimpers and moans mixing in the air as well as the smell of our sex. "Chrissimgunnaaacummmahh" I heard Y/N moan and cry out, I felt like I was going to too, so I grabbed her hand and pressed it to the couch. "Hold out f'me baby, I'm so close, ah fuck!" I put my face to her neck, I felt like I wasn't close to her even though I was literally inside of her fucking my cum into her over again . she just had that amazing effect on me. "FucckimcummingAhhImcumming" her words were slurred together and her rope snapped at the same time as mine. We were definitely going to get a noise complaint from her neighbors but the feeling was so overwhelming I couldn't give a fuck right now. "Oh my god, fuck ma." I laughed, it hurt pulling out of her soaked cunt, we both winced. She weakly smacked my chest, and gave me a smile that almost made me hard again. "I hate you" she whispered pulling me into a kiss. "I love you," I mumbled against her lips and walked away to get a rag to clean us up. Yunno, this was the best Christmas ever.

(kinda long, hope you enjoyed!)

#smut #christmas #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #Chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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