#so he's a lil feral about keeping them in line. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glossgojo · 2 years ago

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hold me across every state line

joel miller x reader | 3.7k words

part 2 here

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (obviously let’s be real), AFAB reader, fingering, slight pervy joel, pet names, multiple orgasms, choking, oral fem receiving, lingerie, porn with some plot, non-canon compliant, joel has feelings <3

you had been traveling with joel and ellie ever since philadelphia and as hard as you and joel had tried to ignore whatever was going on between you two, he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on you. you all arrive at jackson and feel like you can relax for a bit. it all comes to a head when you were changing and he caught a glimpse of fucking lingerie. joel miller feels like a teenage boy all over again just because of you.

a/n: def gotta a lil carried away, what can i say joel miller makes me FERAL. also beta version sorry i wrote this in a daze

it had been a month since you joined joel and ellie, you had grown fond of them both. your younger sister was ellie’s age before you lost her a couple years after the outbreak, it felt healing talking to her. ellie, in a lot of ways, was similar to you. unfortunately for joel that meant a lot more worrying than he admitted to. although he’d never admit it, he was quite fond of you and you were downright gone for the older man. it wasn’t like you had been single since the outbreak or before, but something about joel made your heart beat faster than ever and brought a smile to your face just from a mere thought about the grumpy man.

but you never labeled your feelings and neither did he, you both operated under a need to keep each other and ellie safe and that was it. ellie wasn’t dumb, she could see what was happening between you two. she also knew it was only a matter of time before you both gave in to whatever you were feeling. for now you three just acted out of survival instinct and that was enough. weeks morphed into months and winter was cruel to you three. you spent nights in joel’s arms, you both attributed it to feeling safer that way and for warmth of course. you never missed how sometimes you could feel his heart against your back, beating just as fast as your own. or when you would wake up before him and the sun shone down on his face, his expression would be relaxed and you could dream for a while about him looking at you like that. you hoped one day joel would let the pain he carried on his shoulders be lifted by ellie or even you.

when you all made it to jackson and joel reunited with his brother you felt like you could finally breathe again. although your body was always primed to fight and run, you couldn’t help but relax as maria treated you like a friend. she was kinder than anyone you had met since the outbreak, it all felt too good to be true. your suspicions were shared with joel and ellie. the three couldn’t relax even in the small condo tommy had given to you. maria had whisked ellie away to socialize with the other kids, saying how it would be good for her and far be it from you and joel to argue with her about it.

that left you and joel in a warm house with power and gas, feeling very out of place. the house had two rooms with two en-suite bathrooms, so naturally you and joel decided to share. joel was lying down on the bed, not fully asleep as he stared up at the ceiling planning the next steps in head. he had showered and changed into the clothes maria had dropped off, feeling like a new man. his mind raced at the possibilities of how to get ellie to the fireflies. you had spoke earlier about staying a little bit longer and collecting more information before setting out. he had disagreed, wanting to leave as soon as possible but you convinced him to stay, it would be better for ellie and especially him to spend more time with his brother and others. you also didn’t mind how relaxed joel looked when he was with his brother.

you were just getting out of the shower as you reached for a towel, drying off as you looked at the underwear maria had given you. you had blushed when you first saw it, clearly she thought you and joel were much more than friends after just a few minutes of interacting with her. you weren’t really sure why you decided to wear the lacy black panties and matching bra instead of the more sensible set, but maybe it was something about how maria had raised her eyebrow when you tried giving back the lingerie. you insisted it was nothing like that, but she had simply said, “are you sure because i think everyone else is?” instead of answering her you just snatched the clothes out of her hands and stalked back to the condo. you thought back about how you and joel interacted in front of her when you met.

“joel, say congrats.” ellie nudged joel in the elbow as you sat on the other side of him, making him move into your side slightly. joel looked to for you some sort of permission, you just nodded with a comforting smile on your face. you wanted him to know it was okay to be happy for his brother, that his brother still loved him and that his new life could have his big brother in it. joel’s hand that had been on your leg the entire dinner, squeezed your thigh in gratitude and as always you tried to swallow down the desire it shot through you. maybe you weren’t as successful as you thought in hiding the blush to you face, maybe maria had caught onto where his hand was and the reason behind your tinted cheeks.

you sighed and tried to shove the thoughts out of your mind, as you slightly opened the bathroom door and peeked through to see joel lying down with his eyes closed, a hand resting on his forehead, further obstructing his view. you took the chance to tiptoe to the closet and pick out some clothes to change into. unbeknownst to you joel had cracked his eyes upon the small creak of the floorboard and felt the air leaving his lungs at the sight of you.

joel had seen your body before, when rain made clothes cling to your skin or when you dipped into a clean river. but nothing compared to seeing your bare skin adorned in lacy black lingerie, a suggestion of fabric covered your ass and your breasts were pushed up as if to further torture him. joel felt all of his blood rush south and his heart beat pick up, he hated himself for silently peaking at you but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. he thought he was going a little bit insane when he watched you pull up a pair of jeans over your curves, jumping a little as they hugged your ass. his pants grew tight, his erection straining against the denim.

joel was on the precipice of losing his mind as you wrapped your arms around your chest and hugged yourself, your boobs pushing up and threatening his mental stability. joel had had enough at this point, his dick hard and heavy in his pants, aching to be touched. he sat up, making you flinch and wrap your arms around yourself tighter, not helping him much as you turned towards.

“how long does it take to choose a shirt sweetheart? do you need my help?” his voice was gruff and deep, you shivered at his tone noticing a clip to his voice. your heartbeat picked up as you raked over his expression, he looked more frustrated than anything else. and you didn’t miss how his eyes flicked between your chest and your eyes. it was now or never. you knew looking into brown eyes they were darkened by something you would see in your own.

“can you help me, please?” joel raised an eyebrow at your tone, like you were sure of yourself but still needed him. if joel were more confident in himself he would know that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you but he knew you could do better. you could definitely find someone younger and more suited for you. despite the rational part of his brain that knew better, he got off the bed and walked towards you. he didn’t stop until his chest was almost brushing against yours and he was towering over you. there was a slight flush to your lips and your breathing was fast enough to draw his attention to the rise and fall of your chest. he still let himself read into it, didn’t let himself dwell on the glossy look in your eyes or the way your lips were parted as if to take him in.

looking away from your gaze for a moment, joel pulled out a plain red t-shirt from the closet, meeting your gaze once again. you didn’t move to take it from his hands, just watched him expectantly and joel almost snapped the hanger in half from the hold he had on it. you wanted him to dress you. joel wasn’t sure if you were doing this to torture him or not but he sure as hell felt more desperate than he ever had. the last time he was this painfully hard from barely any stimulation was probably high school. he took your challenge instead, pulling the shirt off the hanger and flinging it to the side, he gently pulled the opening over your head, motioning for your hands to uncross and you followed quietly. you were practically drowning in the sensuality of being controlled by joel, exactly how you wanted. you had soaked through the thin fabric of your underwear as you gasped at the feeling of joel’s warm calloused hands against the soft skin of your arms. he pulled the shirt over your chest and you watched his darkened eyes travel over your body, his jaw clenching as he took in your curves.

“thank you.” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the air around you both. joel looked you up and down, as if assessing his work. he licked his lips as he remembered the sight from earlier, he felt himself leaking into his boxers, even more turned on from your small gasps and glazed eyes. you looked like a doe awaiting his shot, it drove him a little bit crazier. as much as you wanted to sink to you knees and take him into your mouth you wanted him to make the first move, wanted him to be as sure as you were that this wasn’t just one-sided. joel took one last look at your blown out pupils and glossy lips and decided that enough was enough, he had to make a decision right now.

“not sure about those pants though, doll.” your eyebrows knitted up from confusion, you looked down at them and back up at him. joel was endeared by the naivety in your expression, making good use of your confusion by looping a finger through the belt notch of your jeans and tugging you closer.

“i’d rather they were off.” he could see the words click in your pretty little head as the confusion was replaced by the desire he knew so well. you didn’t look away from his hungry gaze as you fumbled to undo the brass button of your pants. joel’s finger that was still curled into the notch, moved to cover your hand.

“let me, pretty girl.” you had to hold back a whine from his words, his gruff voice coupled with the pet name was grating against your sensibility, your underwear a complete mess from his words and presence alone. you were sure you would unravel if he touched you where you really needed him. joel undid your buckle with two fingers and pulled your pants down in one swift movement, causing you to yelp. he didn’t move as he watched you shiver from desire, he could almost laugh at how desperate you were. had you always been so gone for him? it wasn’t like he was much better though.

“j-joel please.” you choked out, you would do anything for him to touch you. you were on the verge of crying as he grinned at the pout on your lips.

“please what?” he stepped back, making a whine claw up your throat, you stepped towards without thinking.

“i need you.” joel nodded at the words, it wasn’t news to anyone, he needed you just as badly.

“come here.” joel moved to the bed, you followed obediently. when you sat down at the edge of the bed he pulled you by the hips, roughly moving you to lie down with your head on the pillows. he shifted himself to sit in front of your legs and your eyes widened as you realized what was about to happen. his rough large hands kneaded the soft flesh of your thighs, he took in the sight of your bare thighs and pretty cunt covered in lacy black material.

“did you wear these for me?” his hands were traveling up, parting your legs as they moved inwards. you loaned, back arching as you felt callouses rub your sensitive inner thighs. joel moved to sit down more comfortably, letting his thick thighs stretch you even more. he kept his hand on your left thigh, keeping you stretched wide. his other hand moved closer to your core, stopping when you didn’t answer his question.

“yes only for you.” you whined out, you had never sounded more desperate and foreign to yourself but you didn’t care you were completely lost to your desire. joel liked your answer, letting his hand tease the edge of your underwear, you twitched from his touch. he couldn’t help but scoff at how sensitive you were. he ripped a cry of his name from you when he pushed the fabric aside revealing glistening folds and a pool of liquid. he swore under his breath, wondering just how long you had been soaking through your underwear, sure enough he felt the fabric wet from your juices. joel wanted to deal this memory away, he knew he’d remember it any time his cock was in his hand. you squirmed from his gaze, whining for him to touch you, to do anything. joel snapped the band of your underwear against your skin, making you shut up.

“so fucking wet, is that all for me too?” joel didn’t think he could survive much longer without tasting you, moving to lay down between your thighs, you noticed immediately and it made you breath a little more rapidly.

“you drive me crazy joel, it’s always because of you, i’m yours.” you sat up on your elbows, looking at how his face was now hovering your hips. your words itched the part of joel’s brain that wanted you to be all his. he wasn’t proud of it but he wanted you to be his forever. without much warning, joel weaved his arms under your thighs and pulled you forwards, your cunt colliding with his nose. the small friction of his large nose against your clit made you moan out his name again. joel thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, he loved how his name sounded coming out of your mouth. he wanted you to own it, wanted his name to be yours, he felt more possessive of you than ever. he rubbed his nose against your clit, breathing in the sweet smell of you, his lips and nose getting a bit wet just from your underwear. he kissed your cunt, ripping a strangled noise from your throat and he decided he wanted much more of those sounds as he pulled your underwear down, finally letting himself give in to his need to taste you. you were practically screaming his name as the cool air hit your clit.

joel didn’t waste time in spreading your legs wider and making them ache from the stretch, pulling your ass slightly into the air as he planted his lips right onto your core. his tongue licked one stripe from your clit down to where your arousal pooled. you tasted like peaches and heaven, and joel pulled you impossibly closer, he could barely breathe through his nose but it didn’t matter not when you tasted like everything he’d ever wanted and your ichor was painted on the back of his teeth. as much as he drank you in, the more you bloomed for him. you were squirming and screaming his name, begging for him to stop or keep going you weren’t sure. you could only think of his name, only feel him and only breathe him. his mustache and beard grated against your most sensitive parts, making you clench around him. joel’s tongue was inside you drinking you in like you were water and he was stuck in the desert for days. the sounds his mouth produced were obscene and they did nothing but drive you closer to your orgasm. you were rocking on his tongue, never having felt this good before. as you got closer, joel pulled out, his tongue still on your hole as his nose ground your clit. you cried at the feeling, fingers interweaving with his hair and tugging him against you. joel got the idea and brought his hand up to tease your clit as he went back to feasting on you. you felt yourself grow close, pulling his face against you, as you whined out his name. you came undone on his tongue, twitching into his mouth and joel drank in the wave of arousal it produced, never being satiated enough. finally when you were too sensitive for his tongue you tugged on his hair. joel removed his mouth with a pop and a string of your cum and his saliva connected him to you. his beard and mustache were glistening with your ichor and you felt arousal wash over you all over again, you still wanted to taste him, wanted his lips against yours and so you wove your hands around his neck and sat up to meet him halfway. joel climbed up, you wove your legs around his hips. joel’s lips were rough against you, but they tasted like you and you moaned into his lips. joel kissed you fervently as if he had not just tasted you, like it wasn’t enough and his facial hair rubbed against your skin. your cum was coating both of your faces by the time you pulled back for air. joel put more of his weight against you and you felt his clothed hard on press against your core, making you whine and grab at his shirt to pull him closer. “joel please, want you inside.”

just from what you felt pressed against you, you knew he was big and you salivated at the feeling. you were getting wet just thinking about having him inside you. joel watched your fucked out expression and puffy lips and decided against his urge to fuck you even dumber. he told himself he had time, you weren’t like the others, this was different you wouldn’t just disappear.

“next time, doll, can you come for me again?” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes as desire mixed with your need to be close to him. joel moved off of you, drawing a whimper from you, he interwove his fingers with yours, calming your nerves and you sighed contently. joel didn’t know how you could be so damn endearing and seductive at the same time. with his free hand he pushed you up the bed by your hip, until you were sitting up with your back against the bed-frame. he found his home between your legs, spreading one with his hand the other still holding yours. he used his knee to press against the inner flesh of your thigh, pinning it there and stretching you wide open. you whined at the feeling, although he was the one between your thighs you felt caged in. he was towering over your frame as your back pressed against the cold metal frame. finally when the whine left your mouth, he let go of your hand moving it south as he looked you in the eyes. his hand teased the seam of your cunt, he chuckled at the feeling of you so wet all over again. there was a bead of arousal at your opening, ready for him to please you all over again. he couldn’t get enough of you. without any warning he pressed two fingers into you, plunging them deep and feeling you clench around them. Your breath came out in a huff as you looked up to him with desperation in his eyes. joel curled his fingers facing his palm upwards as he felt for the spot that made you unravel and when he did you struggled against his grasp and pushed against his knee to close on his hands. you gasped out his name and joel laughed at the tears forming in your eyes. he plunged into your soaking cunt again and again. setting a brutal pace and just when you felt close enough he slowed down, he shut up your babbling with a harsh kiss to your mouth. it was teeth and tongues clashing against each other, but the desire and desperation you felt was reciprocated in the way he kissed you. you kissed until your lungs screamed for air and when you were about to pull away, joel plunged three fingers into, you gasped into his mouth. pulling away as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and joel littered your neck with kisses and bites. he marked you as he wanted, made sure everyone knew who you belonged to. you were gushing around his fingers, he added a fourth finger and you screamed his name. if the blooming marks on your neck weren’t enough, the whole community would hear your screams. you started begging when he abused the spot that made your mind go blank, all you could feel was intense burning desire and all you could say was “please joel.” like it was a prayer.

your prayers were answered when his thumb ground against your clit and you came on his hand. you slumped forward, joel catching you as he moved his hand from your thigh and brought his soaked fingers up to his mouth. he wanted to memorize your taste, licking his fingers clean before pressing a kiss to your lips. you let him kiss you, you were spent now and your mind numb from pleasure. joel helped you lay down and cleaned you up as much as he could, he put your underwear in his pocket, he had to deal with his hard-on after you fell asleep. joel combed his fingers through your hair, as you relaxed into the bed. you fell asleep breathing in the scent of his shampoo on the pillow-sheet and the feeling on his fingertips scraping your scalp.

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfiction #tlou joel #joel miller fanfiction

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http-tokki · 3 months ago

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one more please- choso kamo

~ tattoo artist!choso kamo x fem!reader ~tags/cw: mature content, smut, explicit language, established relationships,choso being a lil freak and having a thing for your legs ~ wc: 1.1k ~ not proofread. posted at 2am

Choso has a weird thing for your legs. not your feet, your legs; from the top of your thigh to your ankle, your boyfriend was obsessed with your soft skin. always touching you in some form or another (whether it be soft strokes up the expanse of your plush thigh or absent-minded tracings of the lines that make up your tattoos) his fingers are always ghosting over your skin in tender touches, but tonight, there is something different about him. a man possessed, desperate, feral.

As per usual, Choso has your legs slung over his shoulders as he bullies your poor pussy with his fat cock. he often jokes that this position is a two-for-one; he gets to touch your legs and watch as his cock disappears in you, creamy white rings accumulating at the base and dripping down your cunt and onto the towel below, spurring him to keep going and pump you full. on a good day, he couldn't get enough of you but today, there has to be something in the air or the planets and stars because Choso is relentless in his need to be within you.

"Cho, baby, we can, hnng, take a break if you, hmph, need one." you are barely able to get the words out as your body jolts upwards at a particular sharp series of thrusts. "you've cum, fuck, three times already." you grip onto his muscular arms, nails digging red crescents into what untattooed skin remained.

Choso shakes his head. "need one more." a hand wraps around your calf. "please, princess."

You nod, staring up at your gorgeous boyfriend and marvelling at how utterly feral he looks. His hair is mused and hanging to his shoulders in soft, freshly washed waves. His cheeks glow red in the dim light, and sweat covers his skin in a celestial glow. His mulberry eyes are trained on the spot where you two are connected. His jaw is slack as drool begins to collect on his tongue.

"You're drooling." you point out, giggle turning into a huff as he fucked into you again.

choso opens his mouth further, sticking his tongue out as a signal for you to do the same. a fat glob of saliva is dropped from his mouth to yours, the taste of menthol, coffee, you and him mix on your tongue as you swallow. That action seems to wake your boyfriend up as he turns his head to the side, begins to kiss across your ankle, and bites on whatever skin he can find to purchase.

"toy." he blurts out, words mumbled as he continues to kiss down your leg. when you don't react to this strange outburst he clarifies with a rushed "Get your toy, I wanna feel you cum with me"

you blindly reach out to the bedside table, fingers scrambling to find the small but mighty vibrator that had been both yours and Choso's best friend since the first time you had sex. it was hard for you to finish sometimes, medication inhibiting that part of your brain but somehow, you finished quicker and easier with a little help. (at first, you were worried choso would feel icky about it, like he would feel emasculated that you could only finish thanks to a vibrator but that could not be further from the truth. choso had managed to get you off with his fingers and tongue just fine so what was the issue with adding a little help when he was a tad preoccupied?)

the silicone brushes against your fingers and you're clicking it on, holding it against your clit as you feel yourself being split open once again. two hands wrap around your hips, tilting them up ever so slightly in the way that choso knew had you seeing stars.

"I need you to cum, please princess." choso starts to pant, jaw clenching as he tries to hold off his orgasm. "please, baby, please." his pleas are stretched out, words failing him as his head starts to swim.

You feel the familiar tightness in your stomach, fingertips buzzing with heat as you turn up the speed, knowing you and him are teetering on the edge and you both need that final push. you can't form words, only whimpers and moans and the occasional head nod as you slap your hand over your mouth to stop the cry that wants to rip through you.

"you gonna-?" he can't finish the sentence but you nod feverishly, brows knitting together as you feel white-hot pleasure shoot through you.

Choso curses, hips stilling against you as he spills into your spasming pussy. his cheeks blaze red, mouth dropping open in a cute 'O' before he clenches his jaw again, shaking as he empties his balls. you feel warm, tingly and floaty, like you had just swallowed starlight and it was now flowing through your veins when suddenly, you feel a sharp pain in your calf. Your legs, still on Choso's shoulders, tense and your calf cramps.

You swearing, trying to grab at your leg to stretch out his muscle but your boyfriend is so lost in his world he doesn't notice until you start to cry his name, pushing at his arm to allow the room for your leg to lay flat.

choso is instantly terrified. concern replacing ecstasy in a second as he clocks the pain cry as opposed to the pleasure cry and he pulls back.

"What's happening?" his hands fly to your thigh, unaware as to what is going on. "Did I hurt you? Are you okay? Baby, what's wrong?"

you shake your head, no answer in your answer and cry out. "I have a cramp."

you flex your foot, feeling the muscle spasm as you cry and wait for the pain to subside. Choso relaxes beside you, now aware he has not unintentionally hurt you, and replaces your hands on your calf. strong fingers rub tenderly at the muscle and when only you stop whining and hissing, does he put your leg down.

"Better?" he asks and collapses onto your chest, resting his full weight atop you.

"Much," you nod and begin to card your fingers through his hair. "You good?"

Choso nods, a smile creeping on his face until he is beaming. "So good." burying his head into your chest, you feel his teeth nip at your breast and arms tighten on your waist. words immediately after sex are minimal between the two of you. For a few minutes after, there is nothing but the sound of rushing blood in both your minds and you need a few seconds to gather your thoughts before speaking in full complete sentences.

minutes pass and there is nothing but the sound of your breathing and occasional sighs of contentment until Choso pipes up. "I lied."

you humm your question.

he grins sheepishly at you as you feel his cock stiffen against your thigh. "I think I need one more."

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ginkgo-phyta · 9 months ago

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I'm back again 😅

Hopefully, I'm not the only person with this opinion, but how do you think Spencer would react if his significant other told him that they thought he looked hot with his bulletproof vest on? 👀

omg is this injured spencer request anon?? I NEED TO KNOW im so sorry if it's not tho, whoever you are thank you so much for coming back!! i love you with all my heart you should use a special emoji as like ur own lil signature! :D

okay so i wanted to try blurb(?) format but mmm okay not really cuz just a wall of text was stressing me out but this is def more informal than my other work (look no capital letters!) and because i love you so much i present two scenarios for you :P... i cant fight this feeling anymore guys he rlly is so hot in his vest im becoming my most feral self grrrrr RAH RAH ALRIGHT hope you enjoy, my love!

OKAY SO SPENCER REACTING TO YOU TELING HIM HE'S HOT IN HIS FBI VEST gn! reader, fluff, second scenario a little steamy in tone but nothing explicit just h*rny vibes, no other warnings

if you weren't a profiler: you'd never thought about it before- spencer in his bulletproof vest. sure, you knew that his job required him to go into sticky situations where the prospect of gunfire was imminent and he would have to wear proper equipment, but you never put two nd two together. you never even thought of a kevlar vest as something that could be hot...until you saw a picture of him wearing it.

"what the hell is that." you blurt out, voice serious with hints of concern.

"huh?" spencer's as clueless as ever, a little worried about your reaction. he was just showing you random photos his team members had taken over the years, all printed out for easy viewing courtesy of the ever-so-accommodating penolope garcia. someone had taken a pic of a beautiful lake where the bau had saved yet another victim, the sun dipping below the horizon line of pine trees, painting the sky purple and pink. "um...the sunset?" spencer was confused, "i guess maybe it was kinda a weird time to take a photo, but no one was hurt and we caught the unsub and the sky really did look-"

you cut off his rambling with a wave of your hand, eyes never leaving the photo in front of you, "no, no...what's that." you point to what you were talking about, a figure standing off to the side.

spencer takes a minute, becoming even more bewildered "...me?" in that moment your world changed.

"oh my god... "you whispered in a daze, firmly pulling the picture out of spencer's fingers and into your own, "what...what are you wearing?"

"honey what's wrong? it's just my bulletproof vest. i know it might look a little funny, but it, y'know, keeps me alive..." he scratches the back of his neck. a couple seconds of silence pass, but to spencer it feels excruciatingly long.

"spencer," you look at up at him deadpan "you look so fucking hot." to say your boyfriend was shocked would be an understatement.

he was absolutely blown away by your response, so much so that the way his face contorted looked borderline disgusted. "wha-what?? huh? what?" he clamored, eyes flitting over your face to find any sign you were joking.

"seriously, baby, you look so good. oh, my God!!" you almost shriek, gripping the picture tighter, the widest, dumbest grin pulling up your cheeks as you giggle like a schoolgirl.

spencer smiles at your reaction, still a little perplexed "you really think so?" the notion begins to sink into his bones, making him giddy.

you very enthusiastically nod your head, "are there any more pictures of you like this?" you rip the rest of the photos out of spencer's hands, scouring through them at light speed. out of nowhere, spencer laughs out loud, his nose scrunching in delight.

"i...don't know what to say. i'm flattered you think that," a wonderful blush shimmers over his cheeks, "but no i don't think there are. sadly." he playfully adds.

you stop all movements, slowly turning towards him, suspiciously calm. "well then," you grab your phone and suddenly stand up "looks like i'll just have to ask penelope for some!"

"wait! wait, no!" spencer calls after you as you start speed-walking away, your shirt barely escaping his fingertips. he yells out your name, his serious tone interrupted by a giggle of his own as he begins chasing you, "get back here!" he knows: garcia can never ever find out about this...

if you were a profiler: you had seen spencer don his FBI branded bulletproof vest hundreds of times over the years. although you had pined over him for years and were now finally in a relationship with him, seeing him like that didn't make you feel any type of way really. sure, you thought he looked strong and handsome, but most of the time you were too caught up in the case or situation at hand to focus on how he looked. until now. something had shifted in him in the last few months, not just with his ever-changing haircut, but within the way he held himself; more confident, more sure of himself, even more cocky, if you will. whatever it was, it drew your eyes to him in his tight little vest like a lightbulb draws in moths- instantly and continuously. it all came to a head when you caught the unsub responsible for drowning and resuscitating his victims until they couldn't be brought back to life. spencer dove into the lake with emily to apprehend the killer while you had helped the kid he had hostage reunite with his mother. you smiled at the scene in front of you, the teenager running into his mother's shaking arms, her holding him close in a tight embrace. another good ending, you thought to yourself before turning back to watch your fellow profilers make the arrest. suddenly, you mouth goes dry. there spencer reid stood; soaking wet, clothes sticking to his skin, chest rising and falling as he panted to catch his breath, his hand pushing his wet hair out of his face. and that stupid, goddamn kevlar vest. oh, fuck. the others walked away from the dock to situate everyone and themselves in respected vehicles that sat back on the road a few hundred feet away from where you currently were. as spencer moved to follow behind emily, hands trying to flick the water off of him, your gaze stopped him in his tracks. he stood there, a bit confused as to why you were walking towards him, seemingly entranced, instead of beelining behind everyone else.

he spoke out your name, but you remained silent, stopping just a couple feet away from him. you took him in one more time: the way his shirt became translucent, granting you with peeks of his skin; his sleeves rolled up, showing off his delicious forearms; the way his soaked pants choked his thick thighs. you became woozy with desire. spencer watched as your eyes dragged over his figure, drinking in every inch of his dripping body. "oh, baby..." you voice drawled out as soon as your gaze landed on his bulletproof vest, "you're absolutely soaking wet." spencer's eyebrows shot up his forehead at the suggestive twinkle in your timbre. you approached him further, chest just inches away from his. if he wasn't so intrigued by your reaction, he would have been a bit more cautious of lingering teammates. your hands came up to ghost over his vest, "did i ever tell you how good i think you look in this?" you looked up at him through your lashes.

spencer chuckled, "in the bulletproof vest?" you nodded in response, but spencer still couldn't really believe it. "uh, no, actually, you haven't." his eyes glinted at the way you bit your lip, his hands moving on their own accord to rest on your hips. you could feel droplets of water seep into the material and lick your skin, but you didn't give a rat's ass.

"well, you do." you whisper, hands wrapping around the back of his neck as you pull yourself up to press a kiss to his lips, "really, really good." your mouth moves enticingly with his.

"oh? is that so?" he whispers against your lips, diving back in, his fingers digging in your hips. he graciously kisses you for a moment before it dawns on him that you're both still at work- in an active crime scene, at that. "mmh, mmh!" he vocalizes between kisses as he tries to move his head back a smidge. his eyes peak open just enough to see if anyone else was around. your lips are addicting, rendering him unable to fully tell you to stop, unable to fully pull away himself. he's relieved when he spots no one. still, he know this is far from appropriate. spencer's hands move up your body to wrap around your wrists behind him, pulling them away from him and the same time he pulled away from you, "okay, okay!" he breathes out with a chuckle, "i believe you now" he tries to catch his bearings, but your pouting face causes him to laugh again

"spencerrrr," you groan at the loss of your beloved's kisses and he turns you around and pushes you towards the spot where the others vanished, walking behind you with his hands on your shoulders, your body held at an arm's distance.

"let's go, angel." his words brought out a hmph! from you. "we can do more of that later at home" he whispers, leaning in ever-so-slightly.

you turn your head back to get a glimpse of him, your eyes and smile equally wide with excitement, "can you bring the vest with you?!"

A/N: OKAYYYY lemme stop myself before things get filthy LOL do yall know which episode im referring to in the second scenario? that end scene will always get me my eye are GLUED to spencer the entire time GODDAMN. okay anyway i hope you liked this anon!!! pls tell me yalls thoughts <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds fic

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romanarose · 1 year ago

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Take It All

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: Miguel fucks your throat. That's it.

Warnings: Throat fucking, choking, BALLS, gagging choking on cock, a whole lot of talk of spit (I have OCD, do you see what I do you for you all?), a lil bit of spitting up/some stomach bile shit, some struggling to breath. Fluffy at the end.

Anyway, enjoy, whores.

***********

“Just like that, asi mami, take it further”

Miguel had you pinned against the wall, strong legs keeping your shoulders pressed into the plaster. He gave you orders on how to suck his dick despite being the one forcing it down your throat.

“Think you can take it all this time?”

You mumbled in affirmative, throat contracting around his cock as Miguel groaned. Pulling out just briefly, you take a deep breath and he quickly thrusts back inside you, your throat burning with the stretch of him as he slides down your wet, warm mouth. Fuck, he was so deep, you couldn’t help touch yourself.

“Needy little thing.” He teases you when he sees your touching. “Does it turn you on when I abuse your little throat?”

With a whine, you scramble to reach up and grab his hand. You want him to feel it, to feel himself in your throat. Miguel, however, pulled out, causing you to whine again.

“Babyyyyy I didn’t tap out! You promised!” Miquel loved how you sucked cock, but he got nervous when he was in control, not wanting to hurt you. You had made him promise to keep going until you tap out, or unless he really thinks you need him to pull out.

He looks guilty, but smiles softly as he wipes your face with his sleeve. “Thought you were trying to tell me to stop.”

Jacking him off still, you grin up at Miguel. “No, I finally took you all the way! I was trying to show you that you can feel your cock in my throat!” Excitement was clear as you explain. You never were able to get that far before, and despite the drool falling down your neck and onto your low cut tank top and the heavy dark mark up of your eyes beginning to run, he thought you looked absolutely adorable.

Miguel had an idea; scooping you up, he sloppily kissed you, licking into your mouth as he carried you over to the couch. Before setting you down, he bit into your lip with his fangs, making just a little bit of bloog flow out. Laying you down, Miquel adjusted you, manhandled your body like a little malleable doll until you were in the perfect position; head hanging off the arm of the couch. Before continuing, he knelt beside you, massive hard carefully caressing your face. “I’m gonna fuck your throat like your pussy, sweet thing. That okay?”

You smile up at him fondly, and nod. “Yes, sir.”

It wasn’t long until he had lined himself back up at your mouth, confirming you rememed to tap his thigh twice if it was too much, and began pressing into you again. He was so damn thick it stretched your mouth wide open, and you concentrated on relaxing your throat. When he made it all the way in and he saw you could still breath through your nose, Miguel reached out to finger you, but got distracted when his eyesight caught a view… the tip of his cock poking a bulge in your throat.

He went feral after that.

Pulling out and thrusting back in quickly, Miguel was obsessed with watching his cock protrude through you, so big he was filling you up. His eyesight only strayed to swatch your body writhe and jolt, he pulled down the tank top you were in to take out your tits, groping them painfully for his own pleasure, but it only turned you on me.

“Such a fucking whore, letting me use your mouth as my little fleshlight. You like that? You like when I don’t care about getting you off, just using you for my own pleasure?” He pulled out of you, glops of spit running down your face, messing up your make up as he jerked himself while dragging his balls to spread the make up and spit, blood and precum all over your skin. “SAY IT!”

“Yes! Yes sir I love when you- mmpphhh” Whatever you were about to say was muffled by his balls in your mouth, and you moan around them as you suck and listen to the aggressive ‘fap, fap, fap’ of his hand on his own cock.

“Touch yourself, bebita,” Miguel pants. “Cause I’m about to cum right into your stomach.”

You did as you were told, finger fucking yourself to the rhythem he set into your throat with one hand and clawing into his thighs with your nails.

“Just can’t get enough of you, baby, mmmm so fucking good for me, just laying there and taking it.”

A cough, a gag, a deep breath; you refused to tap out, not when he was so close, not when the balls that rested on your face were tightening and he spoke.

Miguel wrapped his hands around your throat, squeezing as he violently trust into you, using your throat to jerk himself off with your throat. Nail cutting into his tree trunk thighs, you cum on your fingers, throat tightening and releasing with every contraction, every pulsing pleasure inside your body.

“FUCK! Feel so goddamn good, almost wanna snap to this precious little neck in my hands, fuck, fuck, FUUUUCK!!

Stilling in your throat, Miguel bypassed his mouth, shooting his cum straight into your esophagus. As soon as he was done and saw how much you were struggling to breathe, he pulled out of you. Immediately, you turn over and cough, hacking up a lung as spit and cum falls out of your mouth. You gasp for air, struggling to get enough in to satisfy your lungs. The salty mixture inside you spit up into the floor along with a little stomach bile, falling onto his carpet. “Sorry” You breath.

Miguel kneels beside you, gently patting your back. “It’s okay sweetheart, just get it out”

You slow down, your airway cleared out and able to breathe again, and you collapse onto the couch exhausted. Multiple orgasms, several positions, your body sore and relaxed and messy and pleasured…

“Hey, carino, you alright?” Miguel asks, picking chunks of spit soaked hair out of your face.

He worries he hurt you, worries he took it too far, but is surprised to see you giggling.

“We have got to do that again.”

Miquel chuckles in return, kissing your disgusting forehead.

“Let’s give your throat a break for a few days, mi sol. I'm gonna draw us a bath.”

As you watch his bubble butt walk into the bathroom, he turns around. “Hey honey?” He says, body twisting a bit to reveal a cheeky smile.

“Yes, Miggy?”

“I’m proud of you, for taking all of me. I know it’s a lot.” He emphasized with wiggling eyebrows, and then proceeded to dodge the pillow you tossed in his direction, yelling some joke about ‘that’s not why it’s called a throw pillow!’

***************

I hope y'all enjoyed. is this a little like the throat fucking in Take Your Time? Yes. What about it.

Also, I think it's time smut acknowledge BALLS, whose with me?

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @eyelessfaces @littlenosoul @melodygatesauthor @ahookedheroespureheart @moonknightly

#miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #smut #fem reader #fem!reader #miguel o'hara reader smut #miguel o'hara reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara reader #miguel ohara smut #oscar isaac #romana writes #miguel x reader #x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #romana writes smut

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xxsugarbones · 11 months ago

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WORKING OUT WITH TOJI F.

-just joining your big beefy boyfriend Toji for his workout routine 💕

inspired by @starzu’s “Exercising with your boyfriend” fic found v

cw - fem!reader, plus size!reader, Toji is a real stinky boy but you love it, you sniff him (ya lil nasty), exercising (he’s doing push-ups, you sit on his back), biting, Toji folds you like a pretzel at the end, everything is recorded (consensual)

wc - 1.3k

|| an - Y’all I haven’t even watched JJK yet but I am so feral for Toji it’s not even funny. I love me a deadbeat dead man who could throw me around like a ragdoll if he so pleases 😩

Thinking about exercising with Toji.

He’s doing push-ups in the middle of the living room, all the furniture pushed off to the sides to make room for his bulky body, and a small tripod set up on the coffee table, his phone recording his workout routine so he could watch it back later and decide what he needed to improve on.

You were his good little cheerleader, sitting your plump frame on his broad back, your legs crossed and your hands resting on his shoulders.

At first you’d been hesitant to sit on his back because you were afraid you were too heavy for him, but he had assured you that it would be a good workout for him, that your “pretty little body” would be the perfect weights for him. So, like a good girl, you’d agreed so he didnt have to go dig out his actual weights. (Plus, you would have to be the one to lift them and put them on his back, and you knew very well that would not be a possibility, considering just how heavy they were.) And honestly, it shouldn’t have surprised you that he proceeded with no trouble at all.

He’s been at it for about half an hour now, occasionally taking little breaks by laying on the floor, while you shifted yourself back to straddle his thighs to give him a chance to breathe.

But it wasn’t ever too long before he got back into it, telling you to “sit your pretty ass back down on my back”.

“You got this baby! Doing so well!” You cheered on, leaning down again to rest your hands on his shoulders. His neck and shoulders were damp with sweat, his muscle tank clinging to his skin and loose strands of hair hanging in front of his eyes. He kept his sharp, green eyes focused on the ground, just trying his best to even out his breathing and keep himself in line, but it was getting very difficult with the feeling of your body weight and heat sitting atop him. But he stopped, lowering himself down flat to the ground when you tapped his shoulder three times.

“Lemme try something.” You started. You didn’t get much of a response other than a grunt from the man, who just wanted to continue his workout now that he was in the thick of it. You took that as your cue, shifting your body into a different position. Now you lay down on his back, stomach and chest against his toned muscles, and your arms wrapped around his slutty slim waist, and your nose nuzzled into his neck with a smile on your lips.

‘’m all sweaty, babe, don’t do that.” He huffed, but didn’t say much else as he once again started his push-ups, feeling you smile into his sweaty skin. This was much more comfortable for you. He grumbled out something about you being ‘gross’, which only made you laugh in response.

“But you smell good!”

“I stink.”

“I like you stinky.” Was your response, your hands sliding up underneath the hem of his tank and feeling his sweaty abs. A combined shiver ran through the both of you at the contact- your cool hands against his warm flesh, and he muffled a soft groan by sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You smiled, nose brushing along the tense muscles in his neck and just to prove your point, you tucked your head just beneath his jawline, and took a deep inhale.

“You’re real gross, princess.” He scoffed, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as best he could but really only catching a glimpse of the top of your head. You laughed, pressing a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and humming against the warm skin.

“Yeah but you love it.” You shot back, hands continuing to move around his body. One slid up his abs, moving further and further up his body until it hovered above his chest, the palm of your hand brushing against his nipple and making him tense again. You grinned, gently twisting and tugging at it.

“Gotta stay focused, baby, not much longer now and you’re done.” You teased, moving your lips to his neck again, your teeth ever so softly digging down into the skin, making a point to scrape your sharp canine teeth into the muscle. The groan you managed to rip from Toji was heavenly, and he could feel his already semi-hard cock twitching to life the longer your teeth were sunk into him.

“Playing a dangerous game there.” He hissed, but you paid no mind, just biting down a little harder. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he had flipped your position. He rolled you over so your soft body hit the carpet with a soft ‘thump!’, and he quickly shifted his body above yours so he was pinning you down to the ground, one of his massive hands grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“Toji!” You squeaked, looking up to the taller man with widened eyes, and your thick thighs squeezing together at the sexual tension between the two of you that you were suddenly hyper aware of. Toji’s free hand grabbed onto one of your thighs, yanking it open and holding the underside as he hurled it up and over his shoulder, the heel of your foot digging into the back you had just been laying on not even minutes before.

“Nu-uh, princess, don’t act all shy now when you’ve been actin’ needy this entire fuckin’ time.” He moved his hips forward, pressing his hips against yours, finally making you aware of the little problem you’d caused him during his workout. You whimpered, rolling your hips upwards to grind against him, making Toji sneer, looking down to where your hips connected.

“How ‘bout we do a little workout together, huh?” He started, letting go of your wrists to grab onto your other thigh, hoisting it up onto his other shoulder. Your hips were up and off the ground now, and he leaned his body weight forward, pressing down into you so your thighs pressed against the swell of your stomach and chest. The angle ever so slightly constricted your breathing, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make your brain fuzzy with the excitement for what was about to happen.

“You’re gon’ stretch your muscles for me, and I’m gonna fuck this pretty fuckin’ pussy.” He proposed, his hands smoothing down your thigh to push away the oversized shirt you had stolen from him (despite being a bigger girl, his shirts were still big on you, something drool-worthy), letting it roll up your body to expose your plush stomach, then making his way down to tug at your panties, pulling them flush against your pussy, and moaning at the sight of the wet patch that slowly soaked through the thin fabric. You whined, bucking your hips up towards his face.

“L-Like yoga?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” Toji chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your clit through your panties. You whined again, grappling onto the carpet beneath you as he pulled the fabric aside, then used his other hand to quickly pull down his sweatpants and boxers in one swift movement.

“Just keep these gorgeous legs up for me and we won’t have a problem.”

By the time you two were finished, Toji had to safely tuck that little video of his “workout” into his ‘HIDDEN’ album in his camera roll. But if you ask him, it was a pretty damn good workout.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x chubby reader #toji smut #jjk x chubby reader #jjk imagines #chubby reader #i really need to watch jjk #💀

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wishing-on-a-staranise · 6 months ago

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Kiss it away, honey.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea. (get in your daily clicks, read about it, donate if you can.)

summary: you have a perfect and loving boyfriend, and everything should be great but something is just not right.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: use of y/n, no pronouns used (gn!reader), use of pet names (honey, etc), codependency, dark themes, a new flavor of jealousy, horror (spookies and scawies), gore, murder

a/n: yall remember when i was yapping about clones and all that? yeah. I went a lil feral while writing this lmao✌️🤪

another banger by @procrastinationprincesses and I on tumblr dot com. Thank her for listening to me babble on and just helping me sift through the different routes this could go and also being what is basically my proofreader

i might write a part two of this. do not ask me when.

masterlist

You haven’t changed out of your work clothes yet, staring at the phone on the wall.

It was silent now but it had rung, blaring, louder than you'd ever heard it before. Five times it had rung.

5 calls– 5 missed calls. Unknown number. No voicemail.

You hadn't picked up. You had just stared, you weren’t sure why– the ringing scared you. you weren't sure why but every fiber in your being had coloured you stuck– immovable even if you wanted to do otherwise.

Now it had stopped, empty as vacuum, dead quiet left in the wake of those shrill rings.

And just when you were about to let out a sigh of relief, just when you thought you could finally get to changing out of your work clothes, it started ringing again, your temples hurt from its shrill notes.

Your nostrils flared, you will not cower, no, you huff of frustration before stomping towards the phone. Its red plastic is just as bright as it had been when you had first gotten it with Steve.

It's probably just a prank call. It's a prank call. A stupid kid doing a stupid prank call. Why the hell is your heartbeat so loud?

You pick up the receiver, gripping it tight, ready to give the prank caller a piece of your mind.

Hello? Hey you stupid shithole, find something better to do with your stupid, pathetic life, why dont ya’? Good fucking night.

“He– hello?”, your voice comes out nowhere near as fierce as you had wanted it to be.

The line is silent for a second or two. But then you hear a gasp and then some rustling, crackle. You strain your ears, the sounds seemingly impossible to decipher, “hello, who– who is this?”

You think you hear muffled crying, after a few seconds they finally speak up, “y/n”, their voice is of a woman's. “y/n–” is all they choke out before breaking out into a sob. She says your name as if she hasn't said it in a long while, as if she can't believe she’s saying it. And you don’t know why but you feel your eyes sting. You press the receiver closer to your ears, the plastic creaks under your grip. you think you recognise her. The realisation hits you that you do. She sounds familiar.

“y/n, my baby where–” you hear a click, followed by beep beep beep beep, indicating that the call has been disconnected. This time you blink, a tear finally trickles down your cheek. You stare at the receiver, the beeping barely audible. You take in a deep breath, and dial the number again, waiting for the ring or the woman’s voice.

The ring never comes, her voice never comes. Invalid number.

You stare at it. If you were to look any harder, you think the plastic would melt. Too many thoughts were running through your head. And why the hell are you crying?

You hear the jingle of keys followed by the sound of the door opening. You tear your burning gaze away from the phone to the clock. 7:08 p.m.

“Steve?”

“Yeah!” he answers back immediately, you hear the door shut, the keys in his hand jingle again followed by the clink of them landing in the ceramic ashtray-turned-bowl next to the door where you keep your keys.

Any other day you would have walked to him, and even if he’d be in the middle of taking his shoes off he’d stop, give you a loving smile, hold his arms up, ready to engulf you into a hug. Any other day, you would have wrapped your arms around his torso, kissed his shoulder before burying your nose into his neck.

He is the only one who could ever fix you, everyday you come from work, bags under your eyes, tired to your bones and everyday he comes and puts you all back together as if it was the easiest thing to do, as if he was made for it. And you want to go to him so bad. Any other day, you would have. But today doesn't seem like any other day.

“Hey honey”, he finally comes around the corner and he gives you that smile you love being on the receiving end of, all lazy and adorning, “haven't changed out yet?”

You look back down at yourself, and you see that you had still been stuck, body still facing the wall where the phone hung. you indeed haven't changed out yet. You barely shake your head before his brows scrunch up, “You okay? Your eyes look all red”

You blink before shaking your head, “Uh, yeah, yeah. I’ll go ch–”

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

What you were saying is left abandoned, your head snaps towards where the phone is.

“I’ll get it. You go change,” Steve tells you, not noticing your immediate panic. As he ambles to the phone, you slowly shuffle away– moving towards the bathroom, making sure to listen in on the conversation. “Hello?” you hear him speak into the receiver, he pauses for a second and so do you in your tracks, “..oh hey, Henderson'', you breathe out in relief at hearing the familiar name, “Yeah, yep, doing good. How’s the new place treatin’ ya?”

The audibility of his words lessens as you continue on your way to the bathroom. In the small, tiled room, your own breathing echoes, it engulfs you. you immediately regret not just changing in your room because you can't hear Steve’s voice anymore. But you have already locked the door. You weren’t sure why you did– maybe it was your uneasiness and apprehension but normally you never lock the door because your ever clingy Steve loves joining you in, majority of the time there is nothing sexual about it. Most of the time he just stands there by the door, that same adorning smile on his lips.

When you step out of your jeans, it rings in your brain, again and again. The piercing ringing of the phone, the woman’s voice. You know that voice. You know that voice. You know that woman, you are certain. It is like its on the tip of your tongue, like it is obscured behind a frosted glass, like an itch you can’t scratch.

A knock on the bathroom door breaks you out of your thoughts, “uh honey?” the voice comes muffled through the wood, “Are you done? Need to take a piss.”

“Yeah, just–” you quickly hop into your shorts, balling up your dirty clothes and tossy them into the laundry basket before unlocking the door.

And he is there, that smile blooms across his face, “there you are”, and then his lips are on yours, his wide palm comes to hold your face, thumb rubbing softly at your cheeks— he’s a tactile being, your boyfriend, loves holding your face, loves holding you, touching you anywhere.

When his fingers burrow into your hair behind your ear, you somehow manage to breathe out between the deepening kisses, “Thought you had to take a piss”

“Don't bring up pissing when I’m kissing you”

“Oh, but its okay when you wanna hold my hand while pooping?” He once told you he’d hold your hand while pooping if you’d let him– he had been absolutely drunk, maybe high off weed– inebriated, really and didn't remember saying it the next day. you love to tease him about it. he groans at the mention.

“I was high”, he whines, embarrassed, “I told you I didn't mean it.”

“Drunk words… sober thoughts, honey.”

“You said it was endearing”

“It is endearing but still a weird thing to say”, you laugh all toothy and cute.

“Whatever, I gotta piss”, he mumbles trying his best to hide his smile before moving you by your shoulders to swap places with you so it’s him who is in the bathroom. He shuts the door, the sound of the lock clicking never reaches your ears.

You’re left alone with your thoughts again, and your smile fades away– you’re anxious, you know that much. You’re not so sure of what exactly. You plop down on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing restlessly, finger tracing over the pattern of the sheets. The pillows and comforter are set up perfectly for the night– every morning Steve sets the bed while you shower knowing you always get frustrated with the task.

Your back sinks into the mattress, you breathe out, deep and slow, eyes closing on their own accord. You almost fall asleep for a second, but the bathroom door clicks open. A few seconds later, the bed dips beside you, the fabric rustles, “tired?” the question is followed by a groan. When you peak a look, you find him stretching out his arms beside you.

“Absolutely”, you answer.

“Yeah, me too,” he sighs out.

“We still have to make food.”

He lets a frustrated groan tumble from his lips, “can't we just have mac and cheese today?”

…

The night goes by in a breeze, not a lot of talking.

The love is still there though, in the way that Steve holds the corner of the open cabinet door to make sure your head doesn't hit it, in the way he lets you sit on the countertop while waiting for the water to boil over, in the way you stare at him when you think he isn't looking, in the way you pull his hand over your lap and massage the tight muscles of his palm while he stirs the pot with his other hand.

You put on his favourite show when he plates the food, he makes sure to put some chives on your plate to make it look a little more pretty for you. You watch the show in silence, eating under the flickering light of the tv. You let it play in the background while you wash the dishes, it is Steve who watches you this time, his head resting against the cabinets behind him. and he thinks he could watch you all day. Something about doing the most mundane things with you makes him feel all warm and lovely. He is sure that past anything grand and dramatic, its the everyday things that show love. He hopes in every world, he gets to hold you and love you. He thinks he'll give it all up just to be with you, just to watch you wash dishes, just to have you sit beside him while he cooks.

When the dishes are done, he makes sure the doors are locked, you turn off the lights and the TV. Before you know it you’re in bed, and before you know it, you’re already falling asleep.

…

At first you weren’t sure why you were awake. Then you hear shuffling behind you, and you barely even roll over when there is a warm hand on your hip, “honey,” he whispers– voice all scratchy and low that makes you melt, you hum for a response, “I’m sorry honey, wake up please”, his tone is slightly rushed, you’re a bit more awake at that.

Barely did you sit up when he engulfs you in a tight hug. You hold him back without a thought or hesitation. Your hand rubs his back, his arms tighten around you, nose nudging into your neck, his skin warm. your fingers find their place in his messy head of hair like they always do, you card through the strands. He pulls you closer, and then you're in his lap. He holds you like a boy holds his favourite toy– like he doesn't plan on letting go.

“Want some water?” After some time you ask softly. You feel him nod into the junction of your neck.

He loosens his hold on you enough for you to climb out of his lap. Not saying a word, he follows you to the kitchen, and he stays close when you pour him a glass. He is mid-gulp when you ask, “nightmare?”

He nods once, the rogue strands on his forehead bouncing with the movement, and downs the water before saying a soft ‘yeah’.You take the glass from his hands and place it in the sink, and lead him back to bed.

You brush aside his disheveled hair. You tuck yourself into his side, an arm around him, “wanna talk about it?” you ask softly, fringernails scratching his faint stubble.

In the dim of the room, you see his adam's apple bob. Apparently, he does want to talk about it, because he nods– the movement barely noticeable but there. You put your head back on his chest and you wait patiently, trying your best not to fall back to slumber.

It takes him a while before he starts, “You were…” his hand moves to hold yours, “you were sick–in the hospital, these wires and tubes attached to you. Y-You had been there for months. You were sick and you wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't even look at me. And– and…. Then the– the damn heart monitor–”

“Honey–”

His words are frantic and uneven, “I didnt– I didnt know what to do after. I didn’t–”

“Steve—” you hold his face to make him look at you, “I'm here.”

He licks his lips, then swallows, nodding. he pushes his face forward so your foreheads are touching. “I know", his nose is hot against yours, "it was still awful.”

You both lay that way for a while. Your thumb brushing against his red cheek, he sniffles a couple times. you hate seeing him this way, with his lashes clumped together, his beautiful eyes all red. The moisture glistening under his eyes doesn't let you fawn over his freckles like you'd normally wish to.

When his skin is a little less warm, and his heartbeat calmer beneath your fingertips, you kiss him. Your hand snakes up to hold his face. Fingers, softly rubbing over the spot behind his ear that makes him melt. You kiss him all slow and purposefully, so he knows that he has all the time in the world.

When you pull away, he murmurs, “Can we go back to sleep?” he pulls you closer, face burying into your neck, warm puffs of breath against your collarbones.

You land a quick kiss on his eyebrow before resting your chin above his head, “‘course”

...

You wake up to the alarm clock on Steve’s side of the bed. He turns off the thing before rolling around in your arms onto his back and then turning his head to face you. “Hi”, he smiles that way again and you do the same, sleepy as ever.

“Hi”, you say still half asleep– you ended up not getting a lot of sleep last night. Thankfully you had the day off today, so you plan on being unproductive and sleeping it away.

He stretches, a yawn escaping him, “Jesus, I so don't wanna go to work today”, your boyfriend laments.

You hum, “then don't go” you propose, eyes still closed, “We can both have a day off”

He turns his body so it faces you, leaning on his elbow. His hand moves to your waist before massaging the love handle there “hmm, tempting. I can't though”

“No fun”, you mumble groggily.

“Hey, don't fall asleep on me”, he brushes the hair that falls on your face with the back of his hand.

"But ‘m sleepy", you mumble into the pillow.

"Aw, don't worry, I will kiss it away, honey." He leans down, a smirk painted across his features. His soft lips land on your cheeks first, then one on your nose, they follow a trail that leads to your lips.

You hide your face in the pillow before your lips could meet though, “No, No kissing!” you giggle, holding up your palm to his face, effectively blocking his attacks, “no kissing before brushing your teeth!"

“You're no fun”, he rolls out of the twist of sheets. He stretches his arms, the muscles rippling beneath the skin– he's trying to entice you, seduce you. and if you weren't so damn sleepy, you would have climbed him up like a koala. He gets up to go to the bathroom. When he notices that you haven't moved, he pulls you by your ankle. You let out a surprised shriek that transforms into giggles when you feel his fingers creeping up your torso– tickling you. ”Here comes the tickle monster!”

A fit of giggles erupts from your throat, "What are you–", your question gets interrupted by your own laughs.

"The tickle monster will not relent unless you wake up!"

“No! Okay, okay, I'm awake! Steve! I am awake!”

The two of you share the cramped space of the bathroom. It is small, but its the best you could afford. So when you brush your teeth together, you try to relish it when your elbows bump. And when you're done, he kisses you as if he waited ages.

By now, you're a bit more awake so you decide to get his breakfast ready while he takes a shower. It's simple enough, waffles with banana and some coffee. When he comes back out, he kisses you again when he sees you at the stove, this time on the crown of your head.

When he is getting his keys to leave, he gives you another peck, “drive safe", you murmur against his lips..

“I will. You get some sleep, yeah?” you hum and nod in response. You both bid your goodbyes before he turns to leave.

You decide to eat the leftover waffles and clean up a little before returning to your bed. You make yourself a plate with the bananas neatly cut and placed beside the waffles. You drizzle maple syrup, and then start eating the sickly sweet breakfast, skipping the coffee. While you're pouring yourself a second helping of the maple syrup, the expiration date on the bottle catches your eye. expired more than a year ago. ew.

Your face scrunches in disgust before immediately throwing it in the trash. And you wonder how the hell either of you hadn't gotten food poisoning yet. then it hits you, from what you remember you bought that bottle only a couple months ago. Did you buy an already expired one?

You open the fridge, the condiments and bottles staring at you. One by one, you check each and every one; ketchup, expired. Hot sauce, expired. Whipped cream, chocolate sauce, milk– expired, expired, expired.

What the fuck?

You throw it all out and make a point to call Steve later to buy everything as he often calls to ask if you had to get something from the store. And that makes you wonder, when was the last time you actually told him he needed to get something?

You try not to think too much about it. Honestly, you don't know what to make of it, so you decide to go back to sleep.

…

You hear your name. Its faint. It echoes. Like a whisper in a church.

“y/n”, you know that voice. “I– I know you’re there, y/n”, the woman says, all shaky but sure. “y/n”, she repeats. Its that voice… again.

Who are you?

“Its me, y/n! Its me!” she exclaims as if that would make you remember.

I don't ... understand.

“Baby, just tell me where you are– I'll find you.”

I’m home.

“Home? No– no baby, you’re not. You haven't been home—” her voice gets cut off. It becomes too loud. You feel as if the veins in your temple are going to explode. Its too loud to even tell what it is you’re hearing. Its a static like a radio or a TV, or maybe its wind, maybe its cars, maybe its screams. You think you hear sirens– you wonder if they’re the police or an ambulance. You hear your own breathing, your own heartbeat. Its deafening. And beneath it all, you hear….. Ringing.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

Your eyes fling open and you see your ceiling, you smell the faded mixture of your perfume and Steve's cologne. You’re in your bed. You still hear the ringing. The phone.

You are up in a second. Rushing towards the origin of the sound. When you’re there, you dont wait a second, the plastic is already to your ear.

“Hell– hello?” it comes out all out of breath and broken.

“Honey, you’re– you okay?” its not the voice of that woman.

“...Steve?”

“Who else?”, he chuckles, “you okay?”

“Uh– yeah,”you clear your throat, “I was um– sleeping. I think I just had a dream..” your hand creeps up to the back of your neck, scratching there to try to alleviate a little bit of the ache.

“Oh, well okay sleepy. I just wanted to check if you need me to buy anything? Like, groceries or whatever on my way back.” you give him the entire list of everything you wanted him to get. You would've talked more if Steve hadn't been interrupted by a customer. Nevertheless, you said your 'I love you's and the call ended.

Your heart is still loud in your ears but the ache has dulled down for the most part.

that voice. that woman.

Its me.

I’ll find you.

You haven't been home.

"Home..", you say out loud to yourself. Home.

...

Hours have passed. you think you’re losing your mind because you have turned the apartment upside down. you're surrounded by boxes, most of them filled with normal things, your tattered rollerskates, shoes, old clothes. Most of it was normal, except one.

One unlabeled box you found in the corner of your closet. You haven't touched that box in ages, not since your fallout with your family, lying out of sight and out of mind. It didn't have a lot, all packed in a hurry. things you'd had in your room. picture frames, some books, clothes, papers.

You pick up a frame. The picture was from when you were a twelve-year-old. Wearing what were your favourite clothes back then, your hair in a manner that made you feel a little sorry. You're so different now, yet somehow its still you. There's your older sister, her braces glimmering under the flash of the old camera– her smile wide. Your dad, who doesn't ever know how to pose in pictures. Your mom, she holds you and your sister by your shoulders, a soft smile on her lips, her makeup done perfectly. Another picture from your high school. Another of you with your sister and cousins.

You pull out the books, the pages are slightly yellowed and they have an earthy smell to them that you love. Pages you don't remember reading, dog-eared and written in.

Then there's the papers– some doodles, some notes, a few maps, some scraps and then.... a file. the file that has your name written on it. And when you open it; medical papers. medical bills. They are a little more than a year old. This wasn't a small stay apparently. From what you can tell from the dates on the bills, it lasted months. You don't remember going to the hospital.

Okay, what the actual fuck?

You find yourself reading through all the details of the paper on the floor of your closet.

months. you had been there for months. Steve's dream.

The entire time, you read and re-read the papers. Why don't you remember any of this? Why does Steve not remember any of this? Maybe he does, he had that dream after all, right? Why are there no discharge papers?

Hours pass. It's maddening, how slow the time passes. Its absolutely maddening. What the fuck does it mean that you haven't been home? You are home. and who the fuck was that woman?

You look through the box again, its contents scattered around you by now. The photos. Your family. Your parents. You miss them. You haven't seen them in so long...

Some broken memories have come to you. You had left– run away. You don't remember why. Then you met Steve when you were stopping by in Hawkins for a few months. You fell in love so quickly. Then one day, you asked if he wanted to run away with you. He said yes and you both left Hawkins and came here.

You don't remember much after that.

Wait, where is hawkins? and why did you go there?

...

It is 7 p.m. and you are pretty sure you have lost your mind. Why isn't Steve home yet? You need Steve. He's the only one who could ever fix you. And now, you need him to fix you again. You need him to fix this, to make some sense of this.

You are sitting by the door, eyes fixated on the hands of the clock.

7:01, nothing. Your arms fidget.

7:02, nothing. Your leg bounces.

7:03, 7:04, 7:05, 7:06, 7:07; nothing, nothing, nothing.

Then, 7:08 p.m., rattle of keys and the sound of the door being closed. Steve. Steve is home. Steve.

You're up on your feet instantly, Steve comes in holding a bag of groceries in one hand and his keys in the other, “I was so worried about you!” you say all hysterical.

“Worried, why?" he says, almost chuckling, but his brows furrow before he looks down at his wristwatch, shaking his head,"I don't think I’m late.” He leans in to land a kiss on your lips, but before he could do so, you turn your head away, “whats– whats wrong?”

“Can I ask you something?” you wrap your arms around your torso to somehow collect your thoughts a little better.

"Sure", he assures before moving to put the grocery bag on the beige kitchen counter.

You follow behind him with hurried steps, "When did we buy groceries before this?"

He starts taking out the groceries, "um.. I don't–” he pauses, looking up as if trying to remember himself, “last month probably?" Confusion paints his face, "why?"

"All the stuff in our fridge had gone bad ages ago."

"What?"

“Have you talked to your friends recently? Where are they?” All your attempts to collect your thoughts are all for nought as questions come tumbling out of your lips and you don't even wait for Steve to give a response.

“Honey, why are you–”

“Okay, okay– what about that nightmare you had?”

“Nightmare?” he echoes, brows scrunching together as if he had no idea what you were talking about, “what nightmare?” he asks like he hadn't cried in your arms the previous night.

“Last night! You had a nightmare that I was in a hospital and– and then I was looking through our closet and I find these medical bills–

“Woah, honey. I didn’t have a nightmare. I think I'd remember something like that.. And– what bills?”

Your feet are moving before he even finishes his sentence, you grab the bundle of papers, you show him everything. And he just... stares at them. After some time, all that comes out of his mouth is a “what the fuck...” under his breath.

“I don't understand Steve, I don't remember, you don't remember. And there was this call yesterday–”

“Call? what– from who?”

“From– “ you pause, trying to remember, “ I– I dont…” from who? And then you feel everything you had recalled leaving you. Who called you? What was Steve's nightmare?

“I don't remember!" you exclaim, frustrated, "why do– I'm so– I'm scared Steve. I’m–”

“Hey, it's okay. you have me honey, you have me”, he holds you by your shoulders, to provide you some semblance of comfort, "we'll figure something out.”

“Steve….”, you mumble, tears starting to collect on your lash line, “something's not right Steve…”

“Its okay..”

“No, no– I dont– I keep forgetting stuff. Why don't I remember anything?”

“Hey, honey—”

“And whatever I do remember; none of it makes sense– nothing makes sense!"

“Its okay–”

“Do not tell me to breathe–”, “breathe for me–” you warn him the exact same time he says it.

You have lost it. You have lost your mind. Eyes wide, you ask, “Why do I already know what you’re going to say? How is that– “

“Hey, hey look at me”, he holds your face in his warm palms, “Breathe for me”, he instructs, “please honey.”

“Steve”, you pull his hands away from your face not because you don't want him to hold you. You do, you want him to hold you forever, but dammit, you feel like you’re going crazy, “where did we meet?”

“Honey–”

“Where did we meet?”

“Family video! We met in Family Video! You just came in one day and asked if I could help you pick out a movie to lift your mood up”

“Where is family video? Like, what town? Wh– what state?”

“..Hawkins, Indiana”

“Steve.. There's no town named Hawkins in Indiana”

“Of course ther–”

“No– no. You can look in a map steve. There was a map in one of those boxes. No town named Hawkins. And then– those papers...” you gesture towards the papers in his hand. You stand there, impatiently so, as he scans over the papers once again. For a split second, you think you see a tinge of recognition in his eyes.

“What does it mean, Steve? Then your dream last night–”, he hands you the papers before turning towards the door.

“Steve, hey, steve!” He heads towards the apartment door. “Steve, come back here!” he doesn't stop, doesn't even spare a glance, his movement robotic. Your voice gets louder, more authoritative, angry “Steve! Come back here right the hell now.”

He doesn't stop, not for his keys, not to tie his shoes. Not for you. Tears cloud your vision and your words come out all desperate and weak, “Steve please! Please don't leave me..”

The door slams shut. Its loud, the silence after it.

“No..” you whimper to yourself. Tears, finally streaming down your face.

He'll come back, you know he'll come back, sooner or later. He’ll come back to you. Steve wouldn't leave you. He couldn't.

You wait by the door. hours pass. You fall asleep waiting for him.

…

You wake up to the smell of something sweet in the air. When you open your eyes, you’re on the couch. But you don't have time to think about whether your neck will hurt for the rest of the day because Steve is there, standing over the stove– his back facing you.

“Steve?” your voice comes out croaky.

“Y’wake baby?” he turns to take a glance at you. The furrow between his brows you saw the previous night gone. He smiles softly when you nod dumbly at the rhetorical question, “Well brush your teeth I’m making pancakes”

“Steve..”

He notices that you don’t move, your gaze fixed on him. “Hey, what's wrong?” he leaves the batter he was working on on the counter before walking towards you, “You okay?”

“I’m sorry”

He kneels down infront of you, holding your hands in his– he smells like vanilla from up this close, “Sorry, for what?”

“Yesterday… I didn't mean to upset you. I just– I was–”

“What would I be upset for?”

“Last night.. I–”

“baby, I’m not upset”

“But you just left and..” you sniffle, “when did you come back?”

“I didn't leave. I was here the entire time”, he shook his head, confused.

“But– I… “

“I think you had a dream honey. Freshen up, kay? I’ll bring breakfast. I think we should rot in bed the entire day today. Get some sleep. How’s that sound, honey?”

You nod, he smiles as he pulls you in for a quick kiss, “Good thing we both have the day off– thank jesus for sundays”

…

7:08 p.m. that is what Steve's wristwatch reads and he is standing at your apartment door. Steve isn't sure why he is back. He isn't sure why he left. Maybe he needed some time. And spending nearly an entire day alone... he remembers things. things he wishes he could forget again.

Although Steve is unsure about a lot of things. one thing is for certain. He loves you. He loves you like he was made for it... and he was.

He was made for loving you and not loving you is not living. He's been there before, not having you to love, he remembers the torture of it. You still don't recall it yet and he doesn't want you to, but he does. He remembers it all. All the hurt, the loneliness, the grief, the silence.

The grief that was too much to bear. Silence was unbearable when it wasn't mixed with your heartbeat.

When he turns the door handle– the door isn't locked. He steps in slowly.

He can hear the TV playing, you're on the couch. there's someone else with you. Its him.

Steve watches as he sits between your thighs on the couch– his place, your fingers playing with his hair. He readjusts his head as if can’t quite find a comfortable spot, “You okay?” you ask as gently as you always do.

“Uh, yeah its just–” he sounds just like him, “I just have this nick in my neck”, he says rubbing the back of his neck.

“Here, let me…” you mumble sweetly as your expert fingers move to where he said it ached.

He sees you dig that spot a little with your thumb, “Ah, thanks honey” he almost melts, and it makes him groan the way that always drew a groan out of Steve.

Steve doesn't mind you made him, you probably didn't even know you did, you're powerful like that. But Steve feels something bubble inside him– maybe this is what jealousy feels like. Steve watches, watches as you touch him. He digs his nails into his palm, he feels the urge to touch where you are touching him. He wonders what he would feel when his thumb would run over that area.

His fingers rise on their own accord. Skin barely touching skin, almost hovering. And then he feels… a bump. He isn't sure how to describe it but he knows that that isn't supposed to be there. Not normally, anyway.

He watches as your expert fingers move up into his hair, he always loved when you did that to him.

His own fingers move higher into his hair. He feels another– another protrusion, another bump.

Steve knows what those are, he knows not to press down on them. You have them too. You have them where he holds you when he kisses you. Its the reason you don't remember, its the reason he didn't remember. Just for a day, he didn't have you to hold him like the way you always do and now he remembers.

Steve watches as he leans down to kiss you. And all Steve sees is red. He doesn’t have control over him as he stomps over to where the two of you were. Your heads snap towards the sound. Confusion flashes through both your features.

“y/n”, Steve says. He watches as your eyes flick between himself and the other. Your eyes land on his. Of course you know he is the real Steve. You made him.

He holds a protective hand infront of you, “y/n”, he sounds like him, “y/n, get inside”, he nods towards your bedroom door.

“Look, man I dont know who the fuck you are. But you need to leave”, Steve hates him, he sounds nothing like him. objectively that might not be true, but he isn't him.

“You don't know who I am? Fucking look at me"

“y/n get inside”, Steve doesn't like how he says your name, how he shouts it. It sounds nothing like him.

Steve lets you go, he doesn’t want you to see this.

You can't look away despite not being able to see much through the sliver of the slightly ajar bedroom door. It is only when he lands a punch on Steve, that you move away from the door– eyes closing on themselves.

You hear shouts. Then thuds, knuckles hitting jaws. Some more thuds and then a loud crack. Then nothing. Its becomes too quiet.

You quietly step even further away from the door when you hear footsteps approaching, until you feel your back hit the wall.

The hinges of the slightly ajar door creak. and he is there. Your Steve.

He has a split lip, bruises blooming on his cheekbones. Blood splattered on his jeans, on his hands, his arms. He lifts his arm to wipe his bleeding lip, more so smearing the blood in the process. Your eyes water, heartbeat too damn loud in your ears, eyes wide as a doe.

“It's Steve. your Steve”, he reassures you, holding your face by your chin. From up this close, the blood on him doesn't look quite like blood. Its too dark, too shiny, more viscous than it should be and it doesn't seem to clot. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

“But you already know that. dont you, honey?” Steve coos oh so gently as he thumbs over your cheeks to rid you of the tear stains. He feels sorry when the action instead makes the blood on his hands smear across your skin. He regrets it immediately, to have tainted you with it. He is sorry you have to see all this, to see him like this.

Steve knows he'll give it all up for you. If he ever had something to give, he would give it all up, just like you did.

Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

“It's for you, honey.”

He moves aside so you can go to the phone. It rings loud as it did earlier. You move past the kitchen, you don't see him– not entirely. He is on the floor, you see his hand around the corner of the kitchen counter, lifeless, a pool of that blood surrounding him. The corner of the kitchen counter drips with the liquid, forming a stark contrast against the light beige.

You move past the kitchen counter, eyes not daring to look at him or Steve, you don't turn around to see if Steve is there watching. You know he is.

You move to the bright red phone that is still ringing, blaring. You pick it and hold it up to your ear, “hello?”

“y– y/n? y/n its– it's me”, that woman says. And somehow, now, you know who she is. “it's me, do you–”

“Mom?” you say it before you even realise you did.

“Oh my goodness! Yes baby, it's– it's me!”

“I’m sorry mom, I had to.”

“y/n, what–”

“I have to go now.”

“y/n, no– no. Please don't hang up–” click.

“There you go honey", you feel Steve's warm hands on your shoulder, he rubs into the tense muscles there– surely staining your shirt with the liquid, "there you go."

You turn around and you see his eyes-- beautiful coffee coloured things, moles littered across his skin just the way you've memorized to heart. That smile, adorning and warm as ever. He holds you like he always does, thumb on your cheek, palm holding your face.

He holds you like he was made for it. Your cheek fit perfectly in his palm as if you were made for him. You were made for each other.

You lean in closer and then your lips meet. It isn't hard and fast. Its slow and deep. Like you have all the time in the world, and you do.

When you pull apart and look at him, its just him. Your Steve.

You don't even remember what it was you had been worried about. All you see is Steve, all you feel is Steve. Your lover, your home, your family, your everything. It's all Steve.

You smile up at Steve and everything is right. The blood he had smeared on you was gone. The counter was clean. He was gone. Everything is right, once again.

"So", he starts, walking towards the stove, "what are we feelin' today? pancakes with blueberries, strawberries, or plain ol' choco-chip?"

"Is there an ‘all of the above’ option?"

"For you? always."

...

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington hurt/comfort #stranger things #dark!steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x gn!reader

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argumentativeaxolotl · 1 year ago

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Random Human AU Cars headcanons that probably don’t make any sense before I go to bed bc I can.

Lightning McQueen:

- Has accidentally called Doc “dad” before

- Has accidentally called Strip “dad” as well

- Bro can literally not stop moving- like he will not sit still and he tries so hard

- He has the shortest attention span ever if it doesn’t have to do with his friends or racing

- He actually really enjoys American Football and plays a modified version with Mater sometimes

- He was an orphan growing up

- Bro would 100% go apeshit feral if he lost a game of Uno

- Loves carnivals

- Dog person

- Forgets he’s rich sometimes and he can make his own decisions about money

- His love language is hugs and gifts

- He bought the Hot Wheels of his car and continues to buy every variation

Chick Hicks:

- Bit other kids as a child

- Filled water guns with lemonade and shot at people’s eyes

- Daddy issues(actually this is canon isn’t it?)

- Cat person

- Frighteningly good at card games like Casino “house always wins” levels of good. Like bro will somehow know what your cards are without even looking at them

- He put rocks in snowballs

- Alcoholic

- Loves anything horror, gorey, and True Crime

- He’s notoriously bad at getting people gifts, like seriously bro is not allowed to buy anything for anyone for Christmas or their birthdays that’s how bad it is(someone usually gets it for him)

- He probably has a huge gambling problem

- His love language is giving gifts

- He gives gifts as a form of apology because he’s shit at words

- Literally the best mustache in all of cars- like he keeps that thing at top condition 101% of the time

- He never actually finished school because his dad forced him into racing as soon as he could

- Probably had rabies at one point and somehow survived

- If you somehow manage to become a good friend of his, he’ll actually be super chill w/ you

- Rich as FUCK

Strip Weathers:

- Legally adopted Cal after his parents passed away(or sumn idk)

- Has several scars on his arm from the crash during the tie-breaker race

- He, Tex, Lynda, and Cal were practically inseparable after the crash

- He and Tex are literally the bestest of buds like they are homies to the MAX

- He doesn’t hold any ill-will against Chick even if he should and is allowed to

- The “Boy Scout” of racing(think Superman or Captain America)

- He listens to “Old Town Road” by Lil Nas X while working with his horses. Cal cringes every time.

- He never swears unless he’s serious about something or is extremely upset or concerned

- He almost fainted when he met Doc for the first time, almost immediately asking for an autograph

- He has a ranch full of horses and enjoys horse racing as well as car racing

- Received an apology gift of both cologne and a miniature trophy from Chick

- He let Chick sign his cast after the crash

- He’s tried to teach Lightning and Bobby how to ride horses with Cal’s help. It did not go well

- He wanted to be a doctor for a little while before switching career paths

- Racing is literally in his blood(he comes from a very VERY long line of racers)

- Weirdly good at writing. Like for no reason.

- He heavily fanboyed over Doc when he was younger

Doc Hudson:

- He loves Lightning as his son

- He thinks of Sally as a surrogate daughter

- Unironically says “back in my day” whenever he’s telling a story

- He owns a shotgun and it’s hidden away in his house, far away from Lightning(who keeps trying to find it with no luck)

- He knows the most shit out of everyone and all their backstories. Bro hears the gossip and goes “nice”

- He loves watching fruit dissection videos on YouTube for some reason

- Bro is great at knitting. Like seriously. Give him ten seconds and you’ll have a whole ass sweater with a theme and everything

- He is an alcoholic(especially after his crash)

- Never got married or had children… until Lightning and Sally lmaooo

- He nearly started crying tears of joy when Lightning called him dad the first time

- He has several large burns and scars on his legs and lower back from the crash(like shit is really bad dude)

- His favorite movie is the original ghost busters

- He is a cat person

- He is a neat freak at heart yet gave up trying to clean out his garage because of all the bad memories

#cars 2006 #human lightning mcqueen #humanized cars #chick hicks #headcanon #lightning mcqueen headcanon #chick hicks headcanon #humanized chick hicks #doc hudson #strip weathers #humanized strip weathers #humanized doc Hudson #headcanons #humanization #I’m really tired lmao #it’s like 1 am #i’m very tired #lmaooo

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weeb-polls-with-pip · 10 months ago

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Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Round 2

Propaganda:

Amuro -

"Being a Newtype is just space autism to me. But also he sucks at falling in line in a structured environment, would rather work with machines than talk to people, and is only allowed as a child soldier because he's the bestest at big robots."

Kyouya -

"what's there to say? you know him. you love him. vote kyoya."

Euini -

"I relate a lot to his social anxiety, especially his performance anxiety that occurs when he's being watched by people, particularly due to his stress at needing to follow the plan/do things the "proper" way in order to not feel like he's a failure. he also stands like a lil autistic kid and i appreciate him so much for that.

(LIGHT SPOILERS) basically, he has a test that he needs to take in order to advance as a witch, and he keeps failing it because he cant perform properly while being watched by other people, even though he knows the "right" spells to use and why he's supposed to use them. on his third attempt of the test, he's prepared a "script" to use so that he can follow it and not worry about failing in the moment (in this case, his script is a hand-written book of the proper spells to use and the order in which he's supposed to use them), but when a part of the exam changes, he's no longer able to follow his script. because he's been taught all his life that there's only one proper way of doing things, his way of thinking is very rigid and he's not able to deviate from his plan without panicking. luckily, one of his fellow examinees (richeh from the autistic anime girls poll 💕) is able to convince him to try and change the way that he does things to something that is more attuned to his personal needs- basically change the way that he casts his spells and which spells to use so that he doesn't need to struggle with doing things in the way that everyone says that he should; the way that he cant seem to manage. but, even before richeh helped him with that though, he was still finding way to modify the "proper" spells a little bit to better suit his weaknesses. he was trying so hard to fit in to the mold that witch society gave him, but it just wasnt right for him and he was making it work however he could."

Aoi -

"He has a very devoted special interest in the idol Takada-chan, which he frequently imagines in fights and other situations… the moment someone (Itadori) expresses equal interest in something he is passionate about, he immediately declares them besties and brothers and creates a whole elaborate shared history for them that doesn’t actually exist. He’s not really interested in connecting with people who don’t share his interests. He’s seen as somewhat strange and eccentric. Though in the present he is respected because of his strength as a sorcerer, as a child he was very isolated."

Floyd -

"Has no emotional regulation skills and will make it everyone's problem. Prone to mood swings and can get angry at the drop of a hat, but can also be so goofy, silly, and lovely. Sways side to side for that good good stim, and loves to squeeze others (with violent intent and affectionate intent). Who doesn't love a good pressure stim? His interest in things can be fleeting, and his motivation to do things can change as quickly as his mood. Spontaneous and feral extraordinaire."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Ash -

"he just has those vibes ya know?"

Shou -

"His special interest is math. He uses math terms in regular conversations and calls people yoctograms/zeptograms which earned him monikers such as "math man" and "pi-face". Speaking of Pi, he once shouted 155 consecutive digits of it through a megaphone just because he could. He's so normal."

Sunny -

"Sunny has been told that his face is not expressive. He doesn't talk a lot and he often gets lost into his imagination. He is a great listener and recalls a lot of information being told he has a great memory (he is able to remember a whole speech about flower symbolism that his friend told him) He is compared to a cat."

Yuu -

"He’s like if an emo programmer boy was also completely unhinged and also had a tragic backstory."

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love-toxin · 2 years ago

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grrr i just wanna be the fruity fours chubby gf & have each of them lay on my tummy :(

like you wear a outfit that shows a little more skin than usual bc they’ve helped you gain more confidence. all their brains just completely short circuit. they all make different comments on your outfit, but each one makes you more flustered than the last.

I JUST WANT THEM TO WORSHIP ME AGHHH -🛸

PRRRRR!!!!

(cws: plus size!f!angelface, fruity four, body worship, a lil fluff, a lil spice, the four being soft and thirsty for their gf <3)

being fruity four's chubby girlfriend propaganda.....your tummy is the most coveted napping spot in the house. you'll be splayed out on the couch or the chair or in bed, and so often you'll have a fluffy-haired head (usually Eddie or Nancy) sinking down on your exposed belly to snuggle in and kiss before they fall asleep. Robin especially likes the spot on the floor at your feet while you're sitting up on the sofa, a movie playing on the tv while she sits back and gently rubs your calves, your thighs resting on each shoulder for her head to be squished between while she turns and nuzzles your soft skin. Steve purposely keeps the house warm so you'll be more apt to wear shorts when you're just relaxing inside, half because he loves seeing your bare legs and half because he wants to feel you shiver in delight when he squeezes them as you walk by.

and yes, please, please wear those outfits you like that show off your skin! they're so happy you're comfortable enough to do it, and to pull out those clothes that you've shoved into your closet because you liked them, but were too shy to wear them out. Steve and Robin will have conversations at length about your boobies, about how they look in those cute outfits and how flattering they are on your curves--and for once Robin won't clock him about using that particular word, because she's clearly lost in her own fantasy when they daydream together about the perfect items that would show off those goods, even though in reality you'd never wear them out the door before they'd be tearing them off of you. sometimes Nancy will come up behind you while you're looking at yourself in the mirror, and fix your clothes so they sit where they naturally do and not where you've adjusted them to try and cover certain areas you dislike. it just so happens that that usually means you've got your tummy out and you can clearly see those lines and curves and soft spots, and she just goes feral over it. like really feral, I'm gonna eat you out right here so you can watch your beautiful self cum kinda feral. Eddie does the same thing as well, except he's more apt to get on his knees and kiss your belly if you say bad things about it--cause c'mon, don't insult his favourite pillow! don't hide her all the time! let her out of containment!!

either way, if ever you wonder whether they're really sincere about liking your body type, just stand in front of a mirror or just have your tummy out and available--rest assured there will be someone sniffing you out like a bloodhound and descending on you to turn you into a human pillow or a cum dumpster cause they just can't help it

#fruity four #fruity four x reader #plus size!angelface #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson #steve harrington x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #robin buckley x reader #eddie munson x reader #spicy writing #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #🛸 anon #anons

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skele-bunny · 4 months ago

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Hello! I absolutely love the sfw and angsty stuff you have and how you write Phantom it's adorable tbh. I hope you can do this request as i got a lil curious tho it's okay if you can't, what would happen if somehow Phantom's old master were to creep his way into top side? How would the pack deal with that? Specifically Phantom, would the others even let him know or try to hide it? Sorry if it got lengthy haha brain did silliness. Keep up the great work!

Anon...... I have plans I cannot reveal in full. BUT GOOD THING THATS FOR A SIDE STORY LINE!! Thank you so much for your kind words, and like usual LONG POST

(cw for mild descriptions of slavery, light with sa, and abuse)

Let's put it on my main "story line" I have-- you can read some of Albus/Phantom's backstory here! A little details on Albus for it to be fully understood:

Phantom's master's name is "Albus." He's an old guy, in humans standards would count as a salt n pepper. He's not connected to a pack specifically as he's involved with many and isn't tied down. He's what some would call a medicine man, knowledgeable on heavy spells and castings, even the ancient magick that he refuses to share on how but will do... Unless, of course, there's an exchange.

Albus had been wanting a mate for a very long time, and that's how he got Phantom! He was a sadistic motherfucker, loved toying with Phantom's mind and keeping him so weak and dumbed down. He was always stuck in chains and collars, claimed in every aspect by Albus. Sigils are covered on his body all the way from his mind to his womb. Albus owns him.

When Phantom got topside, those sigils never went away - they only got weak. If Albus got topside and in the clergy, Phantom wouldn't have a clue as Albus would immediately be put to work as personal assistant for the higher-ups. He's charming, he's gentle, he's very manipulative to get his way and get trust. Not to mention, he is attractive. This is already a problem, Albus is trusted extremely, he's knowledgeable, and has shown no reason to be considered a threat. Got them wrapped around his finger.

The pack would find out when Albus is ordered to deliver a message to Copia during practice. Phantom just shuts down. They keep eye contact and Albus just grows this demonic smile, and the pure scream of terror that Phantom gives has his pack jumping up in an instant. Dew is at the front, not understanding what's happening but he's not about to question his mate's fear.

Copia is trying to diffuse the situation; dude has his entire pack about to go feral on this equally teetering Quint. Albus is eventually shoved out and attention goes back on Phantom while Cirrus stays near the door in full instinct mode. Poor bat is in hysterics, clinging to Dew like no tomorrow, unable to make a clear sentence as he cries. When he's able to just yell "That's Albus!" It clicks.

Phantom has told his pack about what he's experienced, about who his master was. They're more furious than ever before, looking at Copia with such a hard glare before even Aurora is hissing. "Do something before we do."

Papa Copia is now going head-to-head against the entire higher ups, explaining how Albus threatens the literal life of one of his ghouls, and it's met with a "Then maybe we need a new guitarist, no?" But he doesn't stop there. He's fighting, and fighting. He's gets Special involved, whispering quietly--which gets the Doves involved. They like Phantom, he's another ghoul with wings and is Special's friend. You don't wanna piss off the missionaries which Albus has now successfully done.

In the mean time, Phantom is just locked down in the den, always with someone but he's so... Gone. His eyes are dull, not responding to his pack talking, won't eat, refusing to get out of bed. He can feel his body burning as he has more frequent night terrors, his trauma touch coming back and screaming in the night as he thinks Albus is on top of him again. It doesn't help that Albus does get in his head eventually. They were mated, he has a link.

Whispering to Phantom how "we'll be home soon"/"I missed you so much"/"feel that? That's our bond"/"why don't you make this easier for both of us? Come to me, parum vespertilio."/"I still own you."

His pack is doing their best to take care of him, spoon feeding and even Aether blocking certain memories and keeping him clouded so Albus can't invade. Phantom is tired all the fucking time now, and slowly going back into his old slave behaviors. Everything the pack worked to fix, to heal, to improve. Gone. He's back to keeping his head down, hiding under tables when he has moments of clarity, presenting himself when his mind deems it as "calm xyz down."

LUCKILY... The Missionaries are good at what they do. They don't work with just humans.

Albus waking up so deep in the ministry, strapped to a table, even past the catacombs. The stench of death is everywhere, specifically ghoul death. See! The fun thing about Special, is Sister loves him. All he has to do is ask, and he can do whatever the fuck he wants. No one can go against Sister.

All Albus sees is five very tall, very pissed off Ghouls with a smaller one in the middle holding a syringe of blue liquid.

It's not quick. It's not merciful. Even Copia gets to make an appearance!

Phantom is woken up by a knock on his door, Swiss instantly getting up to answer it. Special is there just smiling, the rest of the pack slowly filling in as he holds a box out that stinks. "For you. Sarra said to see him later for your sigil removal." And he leaves.

He's just so confused, slowly opening the box and face going pale as Albus' horns are sat inside carefully, as well as his heart.

#the band ghost #ghost band #rabrev #cw slavery #cw sa #cw abuse #phantom ghoul #albus talk

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whoahoney · 1 year ago

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For the celebration: Eddie, enemies to lovers, dialogue prompt: ‘Swallow.’ 💛💛

Honey’s 2k Fics!

CW: Minors DNI, mean!reader, fem/afab!reader, subby!eddie, a hint of jealousy, smut (oral f and m receiving, cum eating, semi public sex)

I loved writing this so much, I’ve just begun dabbling in enemies to lovers so I’m sorry if it isn’t like the others 💀🫶🏻 this was supposed to be a lil blurb but it just kept going lmao. Thank you for sending this in!!! I call this one… My Pleasure

Join the celebration

“Oh shit!” You gasp as his mouth closes around your cunt, the feeling so good you can’t even think about the wooden locker room bench biting into your back. “Fuck, c’mon—“ you grunt and roll your hips against his face.

He chuckles against you, the throaty satisfied melody humming through your core before he lifted his mouth only enough to mutter against your lips, “Someone’s eager—“ you cut him off by shoving his face back down.

“—not here to talk, Munson.” You say breathily, your building high already fleeing in the mere seconds he stopped working his oral magic against your cunt.

He nods and resumes eating, pressing his fingers into your thighs with more fervor. “Shit—yeah, just like that—“ you sigh out in relief and dig your fingers into the edge of the bench above your head.

This has been a regular thing for a couple weeks. A nice little hate fuck in the locker rooms after cheer practice ended and Eddie was done with—well, whatever it is he did.

Currently you were enjoying yourself the most you’d ever had and Eddie was well aware. He mapped your every move, every word, every sweet little noise he pulled from you with his tongue. He’d purposely tease and edge you to draw it out longer, wishing to keep his mouth on you as long as possible.

He couldn’t believe how far you’d come in only a couple of months, how comfortable you grew in front of him after making him question his skills the first time you met like this, your silence had been deafening.

The first time, he’d been locking up the drama room as you’d been shutting off lights in the gym. You hadn’t meant to engage but when he opened his mouth and let out a, “Well, who do we have here? Y’know the basketball team finished up a couple hours ago, aren’t you supposed to be cheering them on in the locker rooms?” He smirked at you as you pulled the double doors shut and scoffed.

“Jealous?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed this time as he turned to you fully and approached.

You wanted to swallow but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I mean, why are you so pressed about the basketball team for? Girlies aren’t lining up to go down on the freak?”

He tsks like it’s a challenge and steps closer. “No, actually they’re lining up for me to go down on them. How do you like them apples, cap’n?” He said so matter-of-factly you believed him.

No matter your effort, the air in your lungs was forced out by laugh of disbelief, maybe embarrassment or shock, but you clear your throat and maintain the hardness in your eyes.

Eddie looks awfully satisfied until you say, “I don’t see anybody.”

He smiles as if he wanted you to say it, “Looks like the line starts here, huh?” He looks you over with a predatory gleam and you arch an eyebrow, the intrigue peeking through.

Before you knew it you were turning on your heel and walking towards the door to the locker room. Eddie stood for a minute, glancing around and wondering if this was his rejection until you turn to him, “Well, are you coming?” You ask with a hand on your hip. “I want proof, Munson.” You say with a hidden smirk that set him on fire. A feral smile stretches across his face and he hurries after you, rubbing his hands together as if he were about to eat a fine meal.

You kept your cool the whole time, almost refusing to accept how good it felt, refusing to give yourself over to him. He was so tender with his touches, unlike anyone you’d been with. The kisses on your thighs were so foreign you jumped the first few pecks he laid down beneath your skirt.

The only thing that told Eddie you enjoyed yourself was the change in your breathing, otherwise you were quiet as a mouse. It wasn’t until you stopped breathing that he looked up at you—expecting you to be staring at him with the same disdainful look you always shot is way, but no. Your eyes were clamped shut and your jaw clenched, as if in discomfort.

He smirked and massaged your thighs to get your attention, “Tell me you like it, or I’ll stop.” He almost whispers.

Your mouth relaxes and your eyes pop open and you glance down at him as you breathe out, almost defeated, “…I do.” You say with a hint of shame in your tone. That same mischievous grin stretches on his face and he strokes your clit to make your breath shudder and your hips jerk.

“Stop teasing me.” You push at his forehead playfully, his smile widening as he leans back down.

“Stop holding back.” He says with delight and dives back in.

He savored every drop of you on his tongue that night, every squeak, squeal, and squirm he’d pulled out of you. He watched you ready yourself to leave, not bothering to wash his hands so he could savor the scent of you when he got himself off at home.

You sat there as he licked his fingers and held eye contact, “It was a pleasure.” He mumbled, stepping away.

You stare at him for a second and begrudgingly sigh and shake your head, suppressing a smile, “Indeed.”

It’s all he needed to hear before he was turning on his heel and gliding out the door.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After a week of stolen looks in the cafeteria, in the hall as you passed, or even in class— you found yourself waiting outside of the drama room as Hellfire let out. You breathe out a puff of nervous air as freshman filed out, followed by the juniors that shot you curious looks—ones that told you they didn’t know. Why hadn’t he told them?

You nod at them indifferently as they walk out of the building, the pounding in your chest almost enough to convince you to follow them and walk to your car to go home and go to sleep and pretend you never considered him as an option again.

But you stayed. You stayed until that click of the knob sounded and your breath caught in your throat as he stepped out into the hallway, halting only for a moment before he smiled and shut the door the rest of the way.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he turns to lock the door, “What can I do for you?” He turns to you with an expectant smile, stepping up to lean against the lockers you’d gotten comfortable on.

You roll your eyes and try not to smile though you fail. “Was it… really a pleasure?” You ask.

Eddie swallows and nods, “Yeah,” he whispers before looking over his shoulder to find an empty hallway and then back to you, inching closer. “Why? Can’t stop thinking about me?”

You roll your eyes and turn to the gym, Eddie waiting again in his place against the lockers. “Am I suppose to follow?” He asked in a whisper yell.

You turn to him as you lean against the doors and say, “Duh!”

He gleefully follows you again.

Again and again, he waits for you, you wait for him, and he gives you the best head you’d ever imagined possible.

At school, your shitty comments had stopped and Eddie began to worry about you. Were you pulling away? Was this your way of icing him out? He thought about asking you the next Friday, if you were still comfortable with it all.

It wasn’t until lunch rolled around and Jason tripped him on his way past that he heard you speak, “Jason! Why are you so obsessed with him?” You crooned with a smile. The jocks started laughing, some even made kissy noises at Jason, while Eddie met your gaze and righted himself, finding your smile on him—til you noticed he was staring then you bit the inside of your cheek with a blush, stabbing another limp green bean on your fork.

After that, you’d gotten brave and let his hands wander up your shirt, your whines and writhing hips making him chuckle against you every time—until you shoved his hands away and grabbed him by the hair to grind your pussy against his face.

You thought it’d piss him off but he only moaned into your pussy and shook his head till you gushed. That was the first time you’d cried out his name as you finished.

It rang in his ears til he came in his fist an hour later at home.

You were always left with lingering thoughts about him; if he thought about you, if he got himself off after, why he never asked for anything in return, and then of course— who else is he fucking around with? How does he know how to do it so good??

The thought made your stomach twist—in disgust, of course. Cause you couldn’t ever be jealous of another girl with Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

Okay maybe a little.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As you walk in the hall, you’re debating on stopping this arrangement with Eddie, or telling him how you feel. How you can’t stop thinking about his stupid face, or the way he looks at you when he kneels before you as you undress for him. The way he chuckles at your banter and always knows what to say back or when he encourages you with sweet nothings that you’d never known you wanted to hear from anyone, let alone him.

“That’s it, that’s it, atta girl,”

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Such a sweet little pussy, baby,”

“Mmm—so wet for me.”

They echoed through your head at the worst times, making your thighs clench in class and your cheeks redden at how your insides turn to liquid at the mere thought of him. Not to mention the way your stomach flipped at the sight of him.

Him and his stupid smile, and stupid hair. And his stupid fucking fingers that you wanted in your mouth, in your hair, in your hands as you played with his dumb janky rings that you found yourself staring at more lately because you know exactly what they feel like on your clit, and no idea how they feel in your hand.

And currently, they were twirling a lock of hair that didn’t belong to you.

You stop in your tracks and spot Eddie at his locker and Heather Prosser leaning next to it. She was also a cheerleader.

A very pretty one.

And a stupid fucking bitch.

You watch for a moment as she flashes a smile and bats her lashes at him, asking about meeting up soon. He tosses the strand over her shoulder and tsks before he looks up from her with a keen smile—until his gaze lands on you and the daggers you were shooting at him.

His smile fell and his shoulders slumped. As he glanced back to Heather and shut his locker, you want to turn on your heel and run away to your car and drive home.

How could you be so stupid.

Obviously he got what he wanted—the satisfaction of seeing you vulnerable and weak for him after years of the back and forth bullshit you always sorta looked forward to. It didn’t mean the same for him—any of it.

Before you know it you’re marching up to him and grabbing him by the wrist, looking her dead in the eye before you say, “Bye, Heather!” and pull him along.

Heather scoffs as you bypass her and drag him away, your heart pounding so hard in your chest you fear he might feel it in your hand.

The bell rings and you pull him into the locker room, which you know will be vacant til the end of school in two hours.

You push through first and glance around, noticing the static quiet surrounding you and turn to him as the door clicks shut.

He’s quick to find your waist, your hands resting up on his chest as his fingers stroke at your lower back beneath your shirt. “Tell me why.” He quietly demands.

You shrug your shoulders and avoid his eye, “I dunno, Eddie.”

He scoffs, “Well, do you want me, or do you just not want to see me with anyone else?” He asks quieter than before.

You scrunch your brow at him, “… both, duh.” You find your hands on his face for the first time, his cheeks soft yet prickled with stubble you were well acquainted with between your thighs.

Eddie melts into your touch and nods, “Well, luckily for you… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about…” he blushes this time and your smirk finally returns, “What?” You ask with a daring smile. “Tell me.”

His eyes meet yours and he bites his lip before answering, “Having you all to myself.”

You nod, “I think that could be arranged,” you bite your lip and his heart thunders beneath your touch. “But there’s something I have to do, first. Before we make this little thing official.” You trace along his chain and tug the guitar pick at the end of it before tugging him along by it.

His cock throbs in his pants at the sight, that hungry look in your eyes he found set on him in more places than just the locker room these days.

But now it was more than just hunger. It was true desire. Little did he know how much you paid attention before all of this, not to mention the tabs you kept on him since you found out about his… talents.

You knew the music he liked, and that it wasn’t half bad. You knew he was a total dork about a book you had to read in middle school and he’d read it so much he could quote it (against your skin, more recently).

That he was in a band and he’d played guitar since he was 8 and was supposedly really fucking good. You believe every bit of that claim due to the magic he worked on you with only his fingers.

You knew he was respectful and caring, and could take a lot of shit for no goddamn reason.

You also knew he liked it when you wound your fingers in his hair and tugged at the roots. That he liked it when you used him and that he was a fucking giver.

Not to mention how handsome he was.

And you knew there were a million other things to learn about him. Things you wouldn’t want anyone else to know, because he was yours.

And that you didn’t want to see anyone ever touch him again, ever.

You push him into a shower cubical and shut the curtain, his eyes shining and mouth gaping in awe as you strip off your shirt and drop to your knees. Your hand flattens against his chest to push him the rest of the way against the wall.

“My turn, Munson.” You curl your fingers around his belt loops and his hips involuntarily rock. He groans softly and you smile widely, as he caresses your cheek.

“Show me what you can do, baby.” He says as his thumb sweeps down your cheekbone and across your bottom lip, to which you open your mouth and stick out your tongue and chest.

“Oh, I like this.” He smiled as you wrap your lips around his digit and sucked. “Shit, baby, are you a freak?”

Your eyes open and you slide off his thumb with a small pop, your hands working at his belt. “I’ll let you decide.”

“Shit.” He smiles and slumps against the wall his hands glued to his thighs as you work his jeans open and palm his rock hard cock til he sighs in relief.

“You’re gonna use me, okay, Eddie? I want you to.” You nuzzle your face against his balls until he responds with an, “Ah, shit!” And laces his fingers at the back of your hair. “My pleasure.” He says and lets you pull his pants down past his ass, soon followed by his boxers.

His dick springs up and your mouth drops at the sight. It was long and thick, the tip an angry red and the shaft the same color his cheeks turned when he blushed.

“Oh my go—“ but you can’t finish because Eddie’s already sliding it in and groaning out, “Fuuuuck!”

He starts slow, deliberate strokes, only halfway down his shaft, his fingers winding into your hair. Your hands cover his, and your feel his fingers searching for yours and you moan around his cock.

“That’s it… so pretty—my pretty girl.” He whispered down to you. You open your eyes to find his set on you, his pace quickening and strokes getting deeper. Your eyes water but your gaze is practically desperate— and he can’t fathom that it’s for him.

He groans out another pretty sound at the contact, your unbreakable stare that soon grows smug again, at how desperate he is for you.

You start bobbing in time with his thrusts and hollowing your cheeks and it nearly makes him keel over right then and there. He lurches and leans over and his grip slides from your hair to your cheeks, his thrusts still consistent, yet you could tell he was holding back. You push him deeper til he hit the back of your throat and he whines out openly. You match it with a whine of your own and your panties dampen.

He stays hunched over you as he fucks your face and soon you feel his hands working at the clasp of your bra til it popped open. You give a surprised little yelp and shimmy it the rest of the way off for him. He leans back against the wall and pushes you off his cock gently to get a good look at you.

He fists his spit slicked dick, and watches you, bare chested and on your knees for him. “Touch yourself.” He orders you quietly. “Lemme watch you play with those gorgeous tits.”

A lupine smile tugs at your cheeks and you arch your back for him before caressing the sides of your breasts for him, pushing them together and squeezing them, “Like this?”

“Yeah…” he whispers before spitting on his hand and stroking himself harder. You pinch and roll your nipples before you start a slow rhythm on the heel of your foot, your chest softly bouncing along.

“Oh yeah, keep going, pretty girl…” he smiles down at you, his hips fucking into his fist. You hold your tits for him and hold his eye, your smile blooming again. “Where do you want me to—“

“On me?” You say without hesitation, smoothing your hands from your stomach all the way up over your breasts and neck. “…In my mouth?” You suggest and he freezes before he nods.

“Yeah, baby, get back here.” He mutters as he grips you by the hair and pushes his cock back inside to start a brutal pace that sends you gagging without much time to recover. “Aww, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He mutters to you absently as he works closer to his release.

Your hands start at his hips before one sneaks down to his balls to massage and roll in hand, and his hips stutter before he’s able to warn, “I’m gonna— awww!” He groans out and spills his load into your mouth, whimpering when he feels you continue to suck, as if demanding every drop.

You finally pull off him, your mouth obviously full as you look up at him. He leans over, a finger on your chin before he demands, “Swallow.” In a bone chilling whisper.

You gulp it down and let your tongue swipe over your lip before he’s tugging you up by the arm and pressing his mouth to yours for the first time.

“That was so good, baby.” He whispered against your lips before you chuckled and pushed away from him to pull on your bra and shirt, ignoring the dumb smile he gave you as you dressed—the same way he always looked at you.

“Oh, c’mon, Munson.” You say before pulling your shirt over your head, “—it was my pleasure.” You mock him.

A wild smile stretches across his face before he’s on you in an instant, pulling you to him to kiss again and again, “A pleasure Indeed.” He teases before kissing your nose.

#honeys house party #honeys 2k celebration #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #honeys fic recs #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson enemies to lovers #mean!reader

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howlsofbloodhounds · 3 months ago

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You got me thinking about all of Killer's Stages somehow getting to interact (I'm sure some code manipulation bullshittery could make this happen somehow) and, man...

I think Stage 3 would immediately tackle the others into a hug and then would just... not let go. It starts growling if anyone approaches. It's being very polite too, because usually it would just stab anyone who dares enter its line of sight, but it's got the other three there now and fighting would mean letting go and that's about as far as it's thinking.

Stage 4 is just sitting there extremely confused. Though the poor guy is so incredibly touch-starved and lacking in the positive attention department that it's keeping its mouth firmly shut and sitting there. It's gonna do that for as long as Stage 3 holds it because there's the fear that if it speaks up the others will realize it's there and push it away and it really doesn't wanna be alone again with only the Chara in its head for company.

Stage 2 is visibly disgusted by the contact and is the first to get away. They aren't happy about this new situation, but as they are all one person still they are stuck with these cringe ass people until they find a solution. They're still gonna keep the interactions to a minimum and probably will try looking for any way out of this that doesn't involve asking outsiders for help because this is the most vulnerable they've ever been and they're not gonna tell people about it.

Stage 1 is confused, scared, a little pissed off at Stage 2's stand-offish attitude, happy with the cuddles, feeling guilty for the state Stage 4 is in, and overall a mess. Two minutes in, my guy is dissociating and staring blankly at a wall and asking for Color. Stage 2 keeps repeating that they gotta keep Color out of this and Stage 1 really wants to punch them in the face. He even tries to at some point, which gets both of them bonked in the head by Stage 3 and sat in different corners to think about their actions like misbehaving children.

Just, these 4 could have such a dysfunctional family dynamic together. Why's the one acting like the voice of reason basically a feral raccoon of a skeleton??

The idea of 2 thinking of them as “cringe” made me giggle lmao. Makes me wonder if 2 would do some bullshit like bully 4 and torment it and order it around only for 3 to continually hit him over the head every time. 2 would probably treat 3 and 4 as less than animals if it got away with it. He’s the school yard bully except the bully knows literal torture techniques and would probably bite.

Honestly I’m down to talk more about the Stages either with eachother or with the outside world (color/nightmare/delta & epic/murder & horror) and just in general yalls various interpretations of what exactly the Stages are some more if yall want.

{ @stellocchia }

(Although my replies might be a lil slow i think my social battery is a bit drained rn lmao)

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silentcryracha · 1 year ago

Text

❍ ‗ Love Language (Skz - Maknae line) ‗ ❍

Pairings : Jisung x reader, Felix x reader, Seungmin x reader, Jeongin x reader

Genre/warnings : They all start fluffy and fun and end up smutty, You've been warned. 18+. (eventual specific warnings will be at the start of the paragraphs)

Summary : Specific situations in which I think skz would go feral in. Very easy. Half headcanon/half scenario.

Word count :

A/n : As promised here is the maknae line! Also just wanted to specify that many members may share the same hobbies/passions but of course I tried to switch it up a lil lol. The summary and title suck I know apologies, just read to understand lol Anyways have fun!

ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

Hyung line here

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Jisung ‗ ❍

Jisung is a nerd (affectionate <3), everyone knows. Now, he seems to be pretty proud of it, and I genuinely get the vibe that he would dislike people who picked on it for no reason. Like, why do you hate fun dude?

And that's exactly why he does like people who are able to have fun with these pop culture/nerdy things like he can. You're automatically a cool person to him. And imagine if on top of that, you maybe even share his tastes AND you're hot?? Then it's settled, you're his.

Watching anime, dramas, movies but also reading manga, manhwas (and so on), but in general indulging into this type of content seems to be both a hobby and a comfort activity for Jisung, so it's natural that he would love to share this with his s/o.

You'd recommend things to each other, both to watch together and separately, or maybe keep up with the same things and then discuss them and your opinions. It would definitely be something that would connect you more on a personal level, too, I think.

Especially since you can learn so much about a person simply by understanding their likes/dislikes, what makes them cry, what makes them laugh ( or *aroused*).

It becomes a natural thing between you two to use this common interest as a way to connect even more and lift each other's mood when you need it. Maybe one day you're being a little sad or disappointed for some reason, and Han would just either drop a very specific reference that would make you laugh or simply suggest spending some time together and relax.

Of course, it would be a mutual thing. You'd absolutely use these little infos about him, like having a particular preference/crush for a character, at your advantage. I feel like that would get him more flustered than he'd like to admit.

This little game would absolutely turn somewhat kinky in some way, at some point. Like role play kinky. It could be in a very random moment, for example you two could be watching something and one of you would go "That was hot. Want to make out?" and then you'd end up fucking on the couch at 4 pm on a Sunday, just because.

Or it could be a planned thing. "I prefer the villains anyway" you'd randomly say during a talk, shrugging casually. And man, would he take notes. Next thing you know he's going to randomly pin you against the wall, a hand sliding lightly up from your chest to your neck, "Do you trust me?" you eyes wide, a little confused but excited, you'd answer "Yes". He'd smirk, proceeding to tell you all the filthy things he was going to do to you.

I am a firm believer that Jisung is a switch so yes the situation could 100% be reversed.

Felix ‗ ❍

With Felix the options could be multiple, but for now let's focus on his 'nerdy' side. In this case it leans more into computers/electronics and gaming, which I think is a bit more specific than something like watching anime.

It's more a relaxing activity and a hobby (one of) than a passion in my opinion, so I don't think that he would search specifically for a s/o was also into these things, but if you were then it would be very cool.

Nonetheless he would let you into these things pretty easily, and you would be happy and eager to hear all about it, of course. At the end of the day seeing him getting excited and enjoying his time was the thing that mattered the most, and you felt good knowing that he cared enough to the point of wanting, or maybe even involuntarily, talk about it with you.

It would probably take a little for him to actually be completely comfortable, meaning that I see him as someone who would not hide his hobby but would try to make it 'cool'. Like, "Me? losing? never" and you'd be like "Sure sweet cheeks" and then just watch him get his ass beat up by the other players. Of course with time you'd earn his trust and confidence enough to be allowed to roast him whenever you wanted to (lovingly ofc).

But you would also be his number one fan! He would love to have you present as a 'lucky charm' or ask a kiss for good luck, to bet with you jokingly, to comment and complain about the game itself or other players and so on. Felix would love to have you around in general to be honest. It would greatly help his mood whenever he got frustrated or nervous for some reason.

He would also find it extremely cute when you got a little clingy, like laying your head on his shoulder or hug him from behind just because you felt like it. He loves getting attention and physical contact with his loved ones, so of course he'd appreciate it a lot.

But of course like all things between couples that are fun and cute, could also very quickly turn into heated situations. "This damn game is pissing me off! And that guy just keeps being so annoying, shit" he'd complain, waving a hand in the air in annoyance. You couldn't help but be just a little amused seeing your cute boyfriend get all worked up, the frown on his face just about as threatening as a kitten hissing.

"Mmh" you'd hum, getting up from wherever you'd be sitting, "I'm going to take a shower now. How about you get a rematch, beat that annoying dude and win for me? Then we can celebrate" his mouth would go slightly agape and his eyes wide looking up at you. You'd just chuckle and get his headphones back up on his head before walking away.

Not even five minutes into the shower he would burst in, undressing himself on the way and join you. "Did you win already?" you'd ask in amusement. He would shut you up with a feverish kiss "No, I got distracted" he'd smirk in between kisses, "Besides that cunt can go fuck himself, I got better things to think of"

Seungmin ‗ ❍

Seungmin would love to have an s/o that matched his vibe. He also has side hobbies outside of work, so for example he would love to get you involved in them. But in general of course you'd make sure to always support him and share his excitement.

That one baseball team that he absolutely dies for played a game and won? Suddenly you become fan number two. Do you give a fuck? Maybe not. Does he know? Of course he does but that's why he'd be ten times more happy if you decided to play along. Also knowing how fast this man can switch vibe, you would trul just wouldn't know what to expect next.

"Didn't you say that you can't stand sports?" you'd roll your eyes at him dramatically, "You little sh-" he'd just laugh and kiss your cheek as a silent thank you. I feel like he would genuinely value that a lot, especially if he knew you only did it for him.

Seungmin would be beyond entertained in a situation in which he was being a little shit to someone and you'd just, play on his team. Either of you could casually drop the most out of pocket comment about something and the other would throw back a smart response and then you'd just keep going. Literal partners in crime.

Again, he looks like a man that has range. From cute, to serious, funny, sarcastic and even sexy. And an s/o that could put up with it and be able to respond perfectly to his mood would make him thrive, I think.

He also seems like someone who wouldn't enjoy having his boundaries messed with, though. If he was mad or seriously anxious, he wouldn't like someone acting off and maybe undermining his feelings. But he'd like someone that would take him seriously and tried to help in practical ways.

This boundaries could also imply physical touch or specific words/behaviours. For example, you could decide to play with his hand in public rather than getting all over him and kiss him. Or again, I feel like he wouldn't be the number one fan of being too cheesy in front of other people, but could very well appreciate it when you're in private.

He definitely has a romantic side to him, so you initiating stuff with him would make his heart flutter like crazy, in the right situation. There could be some exceptions, though. Imagine you're out with a group of friends, and you decide to tease him a little.

You'd lean in and whisper, "Seungie, I'm bored". He'd raise an eyebrow at you, genuinely confused at first, "Is something wrong? Do you want to go home?"

You wrap your arm around his, your head resting on his shoulder "No, I didn't say that. I would just rather to do something else" he was eyeing you a bit suspiciously now, carefully asking "Like what?".

You'd try to hide a smile and respond very casually, purposefully making him even more flustered. "You?" he'd absolutely have to control himself from making too obvious expressions, making you chuckle.

He'd silently curse you for getting him worked up in such a situation, but then after a few minutes he'd casually say that it has gotten late and you should go, or straight up make up an excuse. Now, what happens after and its consequences are gonna be on you and you alone ;)

Jeongin ‗ ❍

Jeongin would probably love to have a s/o that is similar to him. Meaning that he'd probably way more inclined to want spend time with someone that he can share anything with, emotionally, physically, habits wise.

I feel like he values communication and understanding a lot. He would like to have someone who knows him well and with whom he could maybe create some sort of routine? He also is someone who may be a little hard to read, but definitely has different range depending on whom he's with. That alone implies a great sense of trust.

You'd undoubtedly have to keep up with him, though. He seems to be generally a pretty quiet person, but could absolutely get a little crazy sometimes. Like, one evening you'd be quietly having a relaxing time at home and then the morning after, when you wake up he'd randomly go like "So, how about we take the train and visit this place today?"

You'd kind of just impulsively go and have a great time. Regardless. Could be raining, be tremendously hot, super windy. You could lose the train or the bus, drop your ice cream on the floor, literally anything but it wouldn't ruin your day. Because you both have that kind of positive and carefree attitude that makes you match so well.

I feel like he wouldn't ask for anything specific except someone that can keep him in a good mood and be there for him when he needs it. You'd just be a safe space for each other, honestly.

Kinda feel like he's secretly quite affectionate, especially with an s/o and a few other exceptions (kids and animals, lol). Jeongin is clearly a very sweet person in general, but I do feel like he holds himself back a bit when he gets anxious about 'exposing' himself too much emotionally.

Still wouldn't 100% be a very clingy or cheesy person in public, but would allow toned down PDA like holding hands, leaning your heads on each other, sharing smiles. Something a little more specific, is hugging or being closer to each other in a crowded place like the subway, an event, a square and so on.

He would very much appreciate conversation. A kind word, some encouragement, a joke or just you being calm and trying to influence your good mood on him would be more than enough. He would probably be really touched by it.

I feel like you'd have 'your' thing. Like a couple ring, necklace charm, bracelet. Something small and private that only the two of you would 'get', and find great comfort in it.

Let's not forget about his silly side though, this man could be the sweetest angel in one moment and start joking around/teasing you in the next. You'd laugh a lot together, and those would most likely also be the situations in which things could get heated.

Even in sudden moments, just out of pure love. For example, while you're roaming around the city, having fun and just being so full of life and love that at some point it would feel almost...overwhelming.

You'd just look at each other, feeling such intimate connections that you'd probably just spend the whole way back home giggling and exchanging super lovey-dovey eyes. Until you do in fact reach home, and that's where the magic would happen. Could be slow and romantic, undressing sensually and smiling type of vibe, or it could turn into something a lot more passionate and frenetic. You're just going to have to find out day by day with him :')

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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