#you can have like water or hot chocolate or pop and that’s it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

attapullman · 9 months ago

Text

That's Mine | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Bob likes Rooster. He does. So why does he suddenly hate him when his childhood best friend agrees to go out on a date with the pilot?

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: f!reader, 18+ ONLY as always, smut, protected pinv, oral (f receiving), praise!kink, fluff, dirty humour, alcohol mentions, sorry to all the Rooster girlies

Author's Note: This is my official jealous best friend!bob entry for my event International Bob Floyd Fucks Month. Thank you to everyone who has celebrated this silly little thing and continued the Bob Fucks agenda. I just love him so much. Save a Rooster, ride a Bob!

“What do you mean Rooster asked you out?”

He’s hot on your heels through the house, following you out to where you’re watering the ferns on the deck. You can’t see his face, but the simmering annoyance is palpable. In your mind’s eye you can see the little vein that pops out only when he’s seriously irritated. An emotion he reserves only for you.

Who would have guessed that two strangers pairing up for a Mommy & Me class decades ago would evolve into the inseparable, eye-rolling, belly laughing attachment of you and your best friend. He keeps you focused, eyes on the prize and safely home by ten. You bring Robby out of his shell, actually wanting to jump in and join the crowd. Occasionally both giving each other a headache, but always ending with a punch on the shoulder while sharing a carton of Haagen Daas.

You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him. He’s being so annoying about this Rooster thing.

It’s been four months since you followed him out to San Diego. A quick summons to Top Gun that led to him out in the middle of the ocean while you whined to your roommate about what if he doesn’t come home this time? How could you possibly survive without him infodumping about WWI missiles and whether milk or dark chocolate made better cookies?

And then you’d gotten the call, B.O.B. flashing across the screen and the photo from that summer in high school where he let you paint a butterfly on his face. The mission was successful. He was safe. And he was staying in Fightertown permanently with this squadron. A few months later, when your roommate accidentally lit your stove on fire, he asked if you wanted to come down and stay for a few weeks. By the end of the month you had rented a small craftsman and his truck was a regular fixture outside.

Then a month ago, when he’d swung by after work, khaki uniform freshly pressed, and asked if you wanted to come to the local Navy bar to meet the names he spent so much time talking to you about. Fiddling with the edge of his glasses, nervous you wouldn’t like his new crew as well as the Lemoore squadron you’d spent years befriending. But if they were good enough for Bob, they were good enough for you.

Rooster was hot. All curly auburn hair and big brown eyes. You’d hit it off quickly, the two of you against Phoenix and Bob, sharing stories about your beloved bespectacled WSO and his sassy quip of the day. Phoenix still couldn’t believe that Bob had used a Superbad quote for the high school yearbook. You still remember the horrified look on his mom’s face.

But last night had been different. Phoenix and Bob had huddled a Budweiser cup of peanuts and discussed strategy most of the night, Fanboy rounding off the table once he heard “electronic warfare”. Your best friend’s dedication to work was commendable, but what were you supposed to do at a Navy bar when he was busy? Luckily the baby cow-eyed pilot had taken pity and bought you a round, taking you out to the back deck to appreciate the beach while Hangman rowdily dominated the pool table.

Rooster had been sweet, asking about your childhood with Bob and what you thought of San Diego. Between the kind male attention and the slutty light wash jeans, you were only human for looking up at him through your lashes and flirting a little. And you felt light as air when Bob came outside ready to take you home, your number in Rooster’s phone and a date secured for Friday.

“Seriously? You’re not going to answer me?” Why was annoying Robby so fun? So sweet and calm under the most pressured of situations, every once in a while he prickled.

You finish with the deck plants and retreat back inside, making sure the windowsill babies are plenty hydrated in the late afternoon sun. “Why do you care? You like Rooster.”

It’s alarmingly loud in the silence as he thinks through that one.

Because Bob does like Rooster. He’s a little older, outgoing, the kind of guy he trusts on a life-or-death mission. In the last few months he would even venture to say they’d become more friends than coworkers, Natasha always bringing them together for a night out. So why did it bother him so much when you said you were going out with Rooster tomorrow night?

Instead of answering, he keeps his conflicted thoughts to himself and starts helping with the plants. There’s no point in an argument he’s not going to win, especially when he’s not sure what he’s even fighting for.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, metal frames glinting in the low afternoon light, gelled hair out of formation from training with his helmet on all day. Maybe you did overstep by agreeing to go out with one of his coworkers. “You want to get street tacos and make fun of C-list celebrities?”

His eyes light up as he nods and overwaters your calathea.

Half a six pack of Mexican lager later and the two of you are sprawled across the living room furniture, Bob’s socked feet up on the coffee table and yours over the arm of the wingback he helped you haul home four years ago. Save the fuzzy tipsiness clouding your senses, you’re transported back to weekend nights in high school. Watching old John Hughes movies and laughing so hard soda shot up your nose. Life has been full of so many incredible opportunities, but evenings in front of the TV with Robby are your most cherished memories.

“Oh my god!” you squeal. “Could he be any more cringeworthy? Put a shirt on!” Your fingers cover your eyes, pretending to be offended by the young twentysomething currently stripping off on your trashy television show of choice.

Bob laughs from his spot on the sofa, beer can dwarfed in that massive hand. “Oh please, you love when they’re half naked for no reason.” He feels that weird tug in his chest for the second time today, but chalks it up to the meat from his street tacos.

You roll your eyes playfully, giving him that toothy smile you’ve perfected since elementary school. “Ya,” you slur a little. “But as my best friend you’re not allowed to judge.”

As if he could find fault in you.

Payback has been talking to him for the past twenty minutes. Bob hasn’t heard a word. Just continues staring at the front door of the Hard Deck like it will magically conjure you.

You’re out with Rooster right now, at that restaurant with the breathtaking ocean view and spicy mozzarella sticks. And while you didn’t tell him, he knows you’re wearing the dress with the eyelet lace and your hair down for once. And you’re probably giving him that toothy grin while he talks about 80’s music and shows you photos of working on the Bronco. You’re likely planning your second date already.

He likes Rooster. He likes Rooster. He likes Rooster. So why does he suddenly hate him?

Payback has completely given up on conversation when the door opens and in strides that floral print smug son of a bitch. Bob’s hand grips the table, grounding himself that it’s not a hallucination. Rooster’s hand is respectfully on your waist, leading you through the throng of Friday night patrons. And you look pretty as can be in that dress, your hair slightly covering your warm cheeks and bashful eyes as a strong man looks after you.

The pilot grins at his squadron, tipping his chin in greeting, knowing he’s got the prettiest girl in the room on his arm. You give Bob a goofy lopsided grin, happy to see him after a lovely night out. Happy that Rooster offered to drop you by before taking you home so you could see your best friend.

There’s nervous energy bubbling under your skin, eager to download about your dinner and drinks, and you wish you were back at home in the kitchen, mugs of hot chocolate in your hands while you and Robby gabbed about your latest romantic excursions like back in the day.

Things were so much simpler when you were seventeen.

Especially because back then he wasn’t weird when you had crushes, or met someone on Hinge. And he certainly didn’t give you that tight lipped frown that you want to smooth off his face. It’s you and him against the world, so why does it suddenly feel like it’s you against him?

“Hey Robby,” you start, giving him your gentlest smile. “You win darts?” He gives a half shrug, picking at his cup of peanuts. Cool, that’s how he’s gonna play it.

You sit next to Rooster at the piano, letting him play a few songs and rally the crowd. You’re a little bored of the repertoire you’ve heard on repeat since your first Hard Deck visit, but give him an encouraging smile nonetheless to be polite.

You like Rooster. But even after a nice night, you know you don’t want to pursue this. Not at the sake of your friendship with Bob.

Everyone’s stomping their feet and slapping their hands to Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” when exhaustion hits you. The back of your hand against your mouth signaling that you’ve had enough for one day. The sweet chocolate eyes of your piano partner give you a caring look as he asks if you want him to drive you home. The hope for a goodnight kiss twinkles in his eye.

“No need, I can take her!” It’s instant adrenaline the way the WSO has launched across the room. You rush to thank Rooster for a nice night as he’s left behind on the piano bench. Bob hasn’t said a single word to you all night and yet he’s borderline dragging you out to his truck. The calloused edges of his fingers digging into your bare arm, the soft flannel of his shirt brushing against your hands when he helps you into the truck. They’re all familiar feelings, yet tonight feels different.

He’s completely silent on the drive, the radio playing some alternative rock music barely audible over the silence. He may be quiet with others, happy to take a back seat, but he’s never had an issue piping up with you. It’s punishment. Punishment for trying to have a good time with a guy who you’ve decided you don’t want.

When he parks in front of your cozy craftsman - the house he toured with you, helped you with the paperwork, bought the bubbly to commemorate the occasion - you’re both at a standstill. Last night you’d been able to put your differences aside for trashy television and tacos. Tonight…you’re just hoping he’ll come inside.

“Who do I gotta bang around here to get you to come inside?” His chuckle is weak, eyes looking anywhere but you.

Because while you’re trying to figure out where you’ve gone wrong, Bob has been having an existential crisis since Bradley fuckin’ Bradshaw put his hand on your waist. A crisis that’s been gaining speed since you followed him out to Lemoore all those years ago and has arrived at a screeching halt, crawling out of his throat. And he’s too shy to tell his lifelong best friend what’s been bothering him for as long as he’s known.

You’re…it.

It’s the way you laugh with your entire face. How you always have a comeback. Your endless love for others. The endearing way you order a pancake for the table at brunch. You’ve been the entire package this whole time. And someone seeing it before him is infuriating.

He follows you inside, watching the way the light radiates at the high points of your face. This is going to be harder than expected.

Robert Floyd has known for years that his best friend is amazing. Practically his whole life. Not a single doubt they’d make an incredible partner. The tiniest crush forming at just how good of a partner. Daydreaming about their current arrangement - the movie nights, the early morning beach walks, the Sunday afternoon bubble tea runs - with a dash of domestic bliss had his heart thudding in his chest.

What he hadn’t been prepared for was Wednesday night, when he came to collect you for the drive home. Sitting next to Rooster, a cup of peanuts loosely hanging from your hand as you looked up at the pilot with long lashed eyes and a seductive twitch of a smile. The way you’d bitten your lip when you said goodbye, turning back to Robby with that flirty glint still in your eye; instantly resetting to friendly excitement as you followed him to the parking lot.

He needed to make you look at him like that.

And now here, in your living room, while you hand him a glass of water and look at him with those impossibly pretty eyes - fuck. How does he explain?

You’re concerned, watching the turmoil on his face and convinced you’ve seriously crossed a line this time. You’ve always been the troublemaker of the dynamic, the bursting bubbly energy to his impossibly sweet silence. Won’t he please share what’s on his mind?

He’s not sure if it’s the burning need to release this tension from his body, or the way your face looks so upset at his indecision, but suddenly the dam bursts. All rational thought out the window as he finally speaks up.

“If I don’t fuck you right now I think I might die.”

It’s impossible to tell whose eyes are wider. His in embarrassment that came out and so whiny. Yours in total shock. Your brain has blue screened and all you can do is blink slowly back into focus, centering on the pink cheeks and bashful baby blue eyes in front of you.

Licking your lips, you sputter out, “W-what?”

You both know you heard him. It was impossible not to with the intense neediness dripping out of every syllable. His carnal need to know what you feel like, taste like. The way those thick, long fingers of his tensed on his knee.

A thousand emotions pass behind your eyes, reflected in his glasses. A handful of ways to handle this situation, but only one makes sense.

“Come over here. We can’t have you dying, now can we?”

There is nothing graceful about the collision of bodies that happens. Navy-trained strength meeting enthusiastic energy. He’s across the room before you can finish your sentence, the slight pause of uncertainty met with your bound into his arms. Warm lips finding each other, hesitant yet sure. The hands on your hips are familiar in a different circumstance.

The waves crashing down on Bob’s brain slow, and he’s instantly soothed as he enjoys the subtle tang to your taste. You’ve worn the same perfume for the last decade, yet this is the first time it’s driven him wild. Pulling back, he takes a deep breath to fill his lungs with the perfect scent. His fingers, fast as light when he works controls, are slow and controlled over the curve of your waist.

“I hate that Rooster touched you. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours?’

He leans forward, gaze level, breaths intermingling. “You’re mine.”

Eyes wide, glossy lip between your teeth…Bob hasn’t seen anything sexier in his life. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers scratching along his scalp as you fight for dominance in your kisses. He’s gaining confidence the longer you moan into his mouth, a sinful sound he wasn’t prepared to hear. Years of listening to you talk about dates and crushes, and now he’s experiencing it first hand.

You’re caught up in the way he’s trailing his large hands up and down your torso, tentatively brushing against the curve of your ass. Waiting for him to call the shots for what happens next. Frustrated he hasn’t already spread you out on the stupidly expensive cotton duvet he convinced you to buy.

“Robby?” He hums, lips preoccupied with your neck. “Not to be ungrateful, but I thought you were going to fuck me?”

The deep scarlet that spreads across your best friend’s cheeks is one for the record books. Jackpot.

He’s practically falling over himself, hands everywhere at once as he collects his thoughts. “You’re sure…you’re sure you want this?”

The seething jealousy that’s consumed him since Wednesday has dissipated, and the horny fog has lifted temporarily. All that’s left is ensuring you’re both on the same page. Once this happens, there’s no going back. As much as he’s looking forward to taking off that pretty dress, you need to be ready to make the same leap.

Swallowing a deep breath, drowning in those eager cerulean blues, you shift your thigh to press against the bulge in his jeans. A bulge all the girls in Lemoore talked about when they thought you weren’t listening. There’s a curiosity burning in you, a need to know if he’s just as sweet in bed as he is when he’s picking you up or helping with dinner. Things have always been platonic - they needed to be, you wouldn’t have survived a childhood crushing on the bespectacled sweetheart who grew up to be an incredible man.

You know the risks, but the rewards are greater. Life is too short to not experience fucking Robert Floyd.

A kiss to his lips. A wink. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

You sound like children giggling on the playground as you run down the hall to your bedroom, trying not to trip on the hall runner as he presses you against the wall to pepper you in scorching kisses. Breathy laughs as you explore this new part to your dynamic. Overwhelming lust mixed with lifelong companionship.

Once you make it to the bedroom - that supima bedspread underneath you, his hips cradled against yours - the innocent giggles dissipate as you take in the man above you. No longer the pink-cheeked child, the gawky teenager, Robby is nothing but height and strength and…broad? When did he get so broad? Naturally so meek and unassuming, the pure size of him is unexpected. But pinning you to the bed with those veiny hands and strong thighs, a collision of attraction overwhelms you.

There’s nothing delicate about the way he grinds his hips into yours, whimpers leaving both your lips. Your panties are soaked, he’s stretching the front of his jeans. Desperation fills the space between you.

His lips wander from your jaw, your neck, the space behind your ear, all the way to your passion-swollen lips. His voice is unsure, but hopeful, as he whispers against them, “Can I go down on you?”

Your eyes bloom wide - not only because you’d like nothing more, but you’ve remembered something from years ago. Something at the time you’d tried to forget. A night out with the Lemoore crew at that shoddy bar, everyone drunk after being out at sea for weeks, and you sat near the back waiting for Bob to come back with drinks. A small group of female aviators sat at the next table over, having clocked the shy WSO on his way to the bar. One had giggled, her friends shooting her a questioning glance. You’ll never forget when she replied, “I’d heard the rumors and didn’t believe them, but can confirm that Bob Floyd eats pussy like a starving man. Best hour of my life.”

As soon as he sees your slightly too eager nod, he’s working his way down your body, appreciating the feel of your dress and soft skin. Breath held as he officially breaches out of friend territory and lifts the hem, treating himself to the satin he can’t wait to pull aside.

Lip worried between your teeth, a whimper is punched out of you when a hot mouth secures itself around your mound, thick tongue exploring the crevices of your covered folds. A finger slips itself along your entrance, bringing to attention the soaked material.

“Someone’s excited.” The lust-driven chuckle against your thigh has you shivering. “You want me to eat your sweet little pussy?”

He’s never used that voice on you, husky and mocking. You’re shaking with desire, for him to stop teasing and give you what you want. An hour ago he was just your friend, and now you’ve never felt so needy for a man’s touch. So far gone you don’t even notice the desperate nod you give him.

He presses another wet kiss to your clothed clit before wrapping his long fingers in the fabric. Prompting you to lift up slightly so he can have unimpeded access to this feast. Skimming his nose along your thighs, hot air directly on your slick cunt. The whimpers escaping you doing nothing but prolonging the teasing.

Bob can feel how you tremble, the way your fingers are smoothing over the bedspread in an effort to self-soothe. He’s satisfied that he’s gotten you as frustrated and ill-content as he’s felt for years. Needing something, not knowing if you’ll like it, but knowing that if you don’t have it you’ll never feel satisfied.

His fingers spread you out. Head dips. The lightest touch of his tongue to damp arousal.

Holy fuck. He does eat pussy like a starving man. Pushing his face in closer and closer, his tongue reaching for every inch of the promised land. His fingers wrapped around your thighs, pulling you in. Hot, wet muscle opening you up as he drools.

Eyes unfocused, you’re in a new dimension and yet he’s enjoying it more.

That deliciously fuzzy feeling starts to tingle in your stomach, pressure building between your thighs as your best friend helps himself. Blunt nails raking up and down your legs to ground you in the experience. The sharp edge of his metal frames occasionally snagging on the skin. They alone make you want to cry to the heavens. But it’s the way he’s sloppily forcing his tongue into your cunt, lewd noises ringing around the room, that has you clamping your lips shut to not wake all of San Diego.

He senses that you’re holding back, not giving him everything he wants. You’ve been best friends since day one, he knows when you not being authentic.

That delicious tongue withdraws from your thighs and you can feel his stare on you. Waiting patiently for you to make eye contact. The pussy drunk, yet concerned look he gives you as he nudges you. “It’s okay, it’s me. I’m never going to judge you.”

Blue eyes meet yours. The same blue eyes that have consistently seen you safely out the other side of any bad situation the two of you have faced. That always comes home from deployment so matter how much you worry. The same ones that you know will guide and protect you on this journey as well. He’s your best friend. No one else can keep you this safe.

After your nod, he dips his slick lips back to your core, his smile upon your skin. Quickly losing himself in your flavor as he nudges you back open. His own hips rocking against the mattress as you allow your bitten lips to part, moans and whimpers and sharp intakes of breath filling the air. Losing yourself in his over-and-above technique to bring you to the edge.

His own muted moans vibrate against your core. Dexterous tongue and calloused middle finger (followed quickly by another) sliding in and out with ease. It’s too much and not enough, overwhelming your senses and making your brain whirr. Skin slick with sweat as that fuzzy feeling in your stomach returns and your feet tingle. Your eyes gazing unfocused down at Robby, hopelessly turned on at his dedication to making you feel good.

“C’mon, be good for me.”

His muffled words stretch the string and bring you home, thighs clamping around his damp face as a scream escapes your throat. Fingers twisting in the bedspread. Back arching. The view has him slack jawed and starry eyed, fingers still pumping in and out to prolong your orgasm. A slight tilt of his lips into a smile at how content you are when he finally catches your gaze through labored breaths.

Your brain slowly comes back to you, thoughts racing through sludge. Eyes fixed on cerulean as a smile stretches your lips. “Where the fuck did you learn to do that?”

He laughs, a surprised, carefree sound as he uses your thighs to help himself up the bed. Gives you a little wink as he grins, “It can get kind of boring on deployment.”

“Recon and intelligence protection missions are boring?”

“Yeah, when you’re not there to annoy me.” His dimples are out in full force, laughter twinkling out of every pore on his perfect face. You slug him a little, your orgasm still working its way through your body. The urge to roll over and sleep just as strong as the urge to shove him in your cunt through his jeans.

You’ve had a taste and you need more.

He’s already one step ahead of you, shrugging the soft flannel and faded tshirt from his body. Gently cranes you in his arms as he helps unzip and lift your dress above your head. The garbled choking sound and intake of breath when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra makes you proud. You’ve always thought Bob was attractive in an understated, sweet way. To know he’s attracted to you makes any doubt about this situation indefinitely fade.

Sitting in front of him, not a scrap of fabric on you, you feel good. He’s the best guy you know, the one you have always sung his praises because there’s literally no one better. The only difference between a friendship and a relationship is sex. That’s all that’s been missing.

It’s time to take the plunge.

You swallow his lips with yours, fingers twisting in his sun-lightened hair. His arms wrapping around you, holding you secure to him. Both of you gasping at the feeling of your bare torsos touching. It’s electric. It’s satisfying. It’s grounding.

Hands quick to unzip his jeans, laughing as he tries to help only for you to bat him away. “You got to undress me, I want to undress you.”

The groan he emits reverberates. You’re so sexy and it’s driving him crazy. There was his fleeting crush in high school, but this…this is beyond his wildest dreams. Allowing your soft fingers to dip below the waist of his boxers, shimmying the denim and cotton down his legs. Your lips struck open in awe at the heavy, hard, thick appendage resting against his thigh.

“You tell me every secret you have, and yet you keep the python in your pants to yourself?” He laughs, a hand wrapping around the base as you flounder to mentally combine Robby, your meek best friend, with the red-tipped joyride protruding from his pelvis.

He helps himself to a condom from the box in the nightstand - the one you jokingly said you’d never use when he watched you unpack. You’re almost worried it’s going to be too small, but he glides it on with ease before lowering you both onto the bed, biceps straining as he adjusts. Bob can feel your slick center against the bottom of his dick and it’s taking everything in him to not make himself at home.

As you prepare yourself for what’s about to be a hell of a stretch, he kisses the top of your breasts, skimming his nose against your soft skin. Even in this moment his main priority is making you comfortable and feel safe. “We can go slow, it’s okay.”

But where Bob is safe and secure, you’re adventurous, curious. You want to know what he feels like now.

The wild fire of your eyes bores into his calm ocean blue. “Where’s the fun in that?”

A shift of hips and he’s slipping through, arousal and spit gently gliding the tip of him in. Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling on the Navy-approved length at the nape of his neck. A sharp tug that prompts a yelp as he drives his hips forward, slipping inch after inch into you. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you struggle to adjust. Fuck, he’s so big.

He’s kissing your temple, whispering how good you’re being for him. I know it hurts, you’re doing so well, almost there, baby. His thumb sliding between your bodies to rub pointed circles on your clit. He’s barely started and you’re already leaving your body, watching yourself be stuffed to the brim.

The neatly trimmed hairs of his pelvis poke along your clit and you’re proud of yourself for taking all of him. Nudging Bob softly to move because you’re uncomfortably full. Back arching into his strong chest as he explores parts of you that you didn’t know existed.

In no time at all he’s thrusting with all his power, leaving you a moaning mess. Fingers clutching to any sweaty skin you can find, nails leaving their mark. He’s red-faced and huffing above you, eyes switching between your blissed out expression and the way your breasts sway with his heavy thrusts. This is heaven. This is everything. Why did he wait to say anything?

Suddenly you’re pawing at his chest, pushing him to roll over. “C’mon Floyd, let me rock your world now.”

He’s pretty sure you could blow him a kiss and rock his world, but he’s definitely not complaining about the view. The silhouette of you against the San Diego moon - big beaming smile and tight nipples. Wishes he had a camera to forever commemorate the first of many times you ask to ride him. A picture book of your perfect face all the way down to you split over his dick with different backgrounds.

From this angle it’s tight, but you’re not a quitter. Rocking your hips to loosen up, hands finding purchase on his chest. His big smile is back, eyes completely dilated while he can’t decide where to look. You’re seeing stars and he’s seeing diamonds.

Once rhythm comes to you, you’re bouncing, loving the way he fills you to the hilt each time. His encouraging smile behind golden rims. You’re with someone who knows the real you, who encourages you to be your best self. And with his strong, veiny hands wrapped around your waist, helping along your movements, you know he’s…it.

It’s hard to tell where your moans end and his start, both of you polluting the air with inhales and groans mixed with the occasional squelch of sex. Your skin is shimmering, thighs begging for reprieve. You can’t get enough of the way he perfectly fills you every time.

Sensing your exhaustion, he brings you closer, slotting his mouth over yours in a filthy, sloppy kiss. Starting to meet your thrusts as you inch closer and closer to your orgasm. Having to calm himself before he ruins your rhythm. The idea of you cumming on his cock has him dizzy. You rake your fingers through his hair one last time, eyes unable to meet as your lashes flutter, and he knows. You’re here, he’s gotten you to the edge.

That big hand on your lower back soothes as you clench for the final time, pulsing. You’ve officially left Earth, watching yourself convulse on top of Robby while he rocks himself up into you. “Good girl…yeah, that’s right…feels so good, huh?”

Forget the best sex of your life, this orgasm can never be topped.

You’re half-heartedly pressing kisses to his forehead as he begin the descent to his own orgasm. Feet flat to the mattresses as he cants his hips up, desperate to drive every inch into you. The fluttering of your cunt the most amazing thing he’s ever felt, catapulting him over the edge quicker than any partner he’s had before. Shoving his face into your neck, licking at your salty skin, he knows his release is inevitable.

“C’mon Robby, cum for me.”

All reason leaves him and he bites down, lips securing over the delicate slope of your neck. A while light flashes behind his eyes and he’s filling up the condom, squeezing out every ounce of release. He suckles the skin, soothing himself as his spent body blinks back to life. Smiles sheepishly when he meets your eyes, as you smile at him sweetly.

Words don’t exist as you hold each other under the covers, tracing skin and giggling when the other finds a ticklish spot. At some point he disposes of the condom, but you’re still not fully there. Everything is good and special and you want to live in this moment forever.

When Bob strolls into the Hard Deck Saturday night, one arm looped around your waist, everything was right in his world.

His colleagues and friends sat in the back near the pool table, sipping beers and winning a game against another squadron. The two of you stroll up, looking decidedly more friendly than they’ve ever seen. Especially when Bob won’t let go of your waist and you keep touching him.

You can’t help it. You’ve gotten a taste and now you’re insatiable.

The group takes in their WSO, standing a little taller than usual with his uncontrollable grin. And then they take in you, beaming, all smiles, looking right at home by Bob’s side in your tight jeans and cute little top. A cute little top that perfectly shows off the dark purpling mark mottling on your collar - teeth marks still visible in the right light.

While Robby confirms your drink order, there is stunned silence from the other half of the pool table. Mouths agape, a gleam of pride in Jake’s eye. Phoenix picks herself up first, eyes blinking rapidly at the sudden realization of last night’s events. Clocks that you went out with Rooster, yet went home with Floyd.

“So, uh, what happened there?” She gestures to the obvious love bite. One that definitely wasn’t there when the group saw you last.

You bite your lip and look at your lifelong best friend. The guy who showed you his love last night…and then several more times this morning. His crinkled eyes drift from yours to the spot where he bit down as he came for you for the first time.

Turning to look at his squadron, he plays it cool and shrugs, mumbling through his blush, “Can’t blame me for making sure no one else plays with my toys.”

taglist: @berryvanille @bobgasm @bradshawsbaby @cosmoeticss @creatchie8 @hangmanapologist @jessicab1991 @just-in-case-iloveyou @maryelizabeth13 @mtnzen @petersunderoos96 @rhettsluvr @roosterforme @seitmai @sweetwhispersofchaos @topherwrites @yuckosworld

join the taglist

#international bob floyd fucks month #bob floyd #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd fic #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd fan fiction #top gun: maverick fan fiction #x reader #x you #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x you

1K notes · View notes

lavandulawrites · 3 months ago

Text

Caerulea

Yandere vampire Gojo x reader

This has been in my drafts since forever.

Synopsis: you see a peculiar man at a party and meet him again when you’re on your way home

Masterlist

Warnings: biting, drugging, lemme know if I’m missing something

Word count: 1561

Ice blue eyes had been following you around the entire evening. Their colour outstanding and alluring, as if they were able to cast a spell upon you that lured you in. They were eerie. The owner of said eyes was a tall man with hair as with a snow. His face was excruciating handsome to the point he looked otherworldly.

His lips twisted up into a playful smile. Revealing pearly white teeth. When he widened his smile as he chuckled, you could see his pointy canines. He winked and disappeared into the crowed. How he managed that was truly a mystery for a man his size.

The night was filled with laughter and horrible music. As the party started to near its end, you decided to venture home. You had only had two glasses to drink and you weren’t drunk. Which was something you probably would be grateful tomorrow morning. You had felt that it would be unwise to drink when you made eye contact with the white haired man. Why you weren’t sure, but you knew well enough to trust your gut.

The streets were empty save from some drunk business men and a couple of students. The asphalt was wet from the earlier rain making the light from the neon signs that adorned the many buildings, reflecting in the water like liquid gemstones. Tokyo really was a beautiful city. A taxi drove by causing water from the puddles to splash onto your clothing. You cursed after it in anger.

A gachapon machine caught your eye. You had been on the lookout for a new Sanrio keychain.

You inserted some coins and turned the wheel. Out popped a light pink plastic ball. You opened it with eagerness. My Melody. You smiled as you studied the little pink keychain.

The sound of footsteps snapped you out of your little trance. You turned around and you almost dropped your keychain at the sight of the white haired man. His pale eyes scanning your features. Emotions you couldn’t place swirled within his eyes.

“Cute keychain” his voice playful.

“Thank you” your voice low. Your eyes darted across the street. The man in front of you have you a bad feeling and you wanted nothing more than to leave.

As if noticing your discomfort he spoke. “I take it that you’re heading home?” he took a step closer. “So am i” his eyes almost hypnotising you in their endless blues.

You knew you should’ve just kept quiet and walked away, but something compelled you to answer him truthfully. “Yeah I am” you couldn’t avert your gaze form his.

His smile widened. “Want to walk together? It gets dangerous at night , you know” his grin sharp. “I am Gojo Satoru, but you can call me Satoru” he winked.

“Okay… I am [Name]” you forced a smile. He didn’t comment on you not sharing your last name, but his eyes narrowed slightly in disappointment.

“What a beautiful man” he hummed. His hand snaked around yours as he dragged you away from the gachapon machine. His hold on you tight.

You two walked down the street in silence. You had asked him how he knew to way to your home, but he only brushed you off. Your intuition told you to not question him further. His hold on your arm didn’t waver one bit.

The sky suddenly opened and rain poured down on the street. Satoru quickly dragged you underneath the roof of a bus shed. “My place isn’t too far away” his eyes flickered to your neck and then back up.

You hesitated. It was not wise to follow a stranger to his home and especially when he gave off such unnerving vibes. “I’m not too sure if I should…”

At your hesitation his eyes darkened. “Why not? You’ll get sick out here. Plus it’s only till the rain stops” he pulled you closer. Too close. You could feel his breath fan against your face.

You swallowed as you weighed your possibilities.

“Come oooon… I can make you some hot chocolate if you would like? I really pride myself with being the best hot chocolate maker I know” he chuckled. His blue eyes glinting with mischief.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his weird comment. “Hot chocolate does sound good…” you were quite cold even though it was summer. The rain that poured endless only made you shiver more.

You don’t know how he managed to fully convince you, but he did. His flat was a penthouse and huge. It was filled with different luxuries and beautiful paintings adorned the walls. The interior was a fine mixture of traditional Japanese design and dark classical style. In a way he had made it work, and beautifully so.

Satoru was busy making hot chocolate while you took in your surroundings. You hadn’t asked what his profession was and you wondered that maybe he was one of those who didn’t have to work.

“Here you go” his jovial voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

Satoru had made two cups with hot chocolate topped with cream and marshmallows. It smelled heavenly and you couldn’t help but sigh. “It looks so good!”

He chuckled as he clinked his mug against yours. You took a sip and your senses was overwhelmed by the delicious taste. It was truly the best hot chocolate you had ever had.

“Wow! This is amazing!” your tongue darted out to lick away the cream that had formed on your upper lips.

The white haired man chuckled at you excitement as he took a sip himself. “I am glad you liked it. As I said, I am truly the best hot chocolate maker” he winked playfully.

“Your flat is really nice” you waved your hand in the air.

His smile widened and your eyes caught what resembled sharp fangs. “Thank you. It’s one of my prized possessions” his voice melodic and his charm otherworldly.

Before you knew it your mug was empty and you were feeling rather sluggish. You and Satoru had talked about all and nothing and he was exceptionally easy to talk with.

Your eyes felt heavy and you leaned your head against your arm that rested on the kitchen table. Your back fell limp against the kitchen chair and the last you saw before your mind slipped into unconsciousness was the icy eyes of Satoru.

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of a cold breath fanning over your neck. You were met with the sight of snow white hair that tickled your cheek. Satoru. You suddenly snapped out of your haziness as you sat up in what you now noticed was his black couch.

He laughed softly against your neck. “You finally regained your senses, huh? Good. I want you to be awake” his voice deep.

You blinked in confusion at his words. “What is going on? What are you doing?” anxiety laced in your words.

Satoru slowly rose his head. His eyes boring into yours with a whirlpool of emotions. “You are so adorable when confused. Ya know when I saw you tonight, I had to use all my strength to hold back. It’s really dangerous going around and being so goddamn cute. So careless” he sighed with a lazy smile. His large hand gently cupped your cheek. His thumb ran over your slightly trembling lips.

“Sator-”

“Shushhhhh” he pressed his thumb hard on your lips.

With a blink of an eye he pinned you flat against the couch, his mouth hovering over you neck. Your heart was beating fast as you cried out.

“Don’t worry darling. I mean you no harm. If I did you wouldn’t have found yourself here. If anything I am more like your guardian angel” he smiled down at you with a gentle smile that almost made you forget everything.

You could hear him inhale which was accompanied by a sigh. “God you smell so good…” his voice a low groan.

“What are you doing?” your voice was weak with panic laced within each word. You were shivering as you tried to regain your strength.

“Something I have wanted to do for months” he chuckled slightly.

A sudden pain exploded your nerves as he dug his fanged teeth hard into your neck. You cried out as you tried to push him away. You could feel him sucking your blood from your wound. It was a feeling you had never experienced.

Gojo chuckled at your attempts of pushing him off. “There’s no way you would ever manage to push me off. Though I must say your attempts are rather cute” he said before he dove back in with his teeth.

He drank from you for what felt like an eternity. After a while he slowly pulled away. His icy eyes looked back at you with hooded lids as he wiped away the blood that coated his chin with the back of his hand. “You taste so much better than what I imagined” he sighed as he licked his lips.

A cold hand stroked your cheek in a soothing manner. “To think that I almost let somebody else have you… Now that would just be foolish” he tilted his head.

“I should just keep you here. For all eternity. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” his smile soft and his eyes filled with love that ran deeper than the deepest sea.

288 notes · View notes

fandom-oneshots-etc · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, can you write a story about Evan Buckley and Reader announcing that she’s pregnant to the 118 at like a family gathering :)

🍄 Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: At a 118 family gathering, Buck's overprotective nature reveals a little more than the two of you had planned.

🍄 Word Count: 1618

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: Pregnancy, implied pregnancy complications

🍄 Note: I really liked this request Anon! I hope this is what you were looking for. I thought about this scenario and I instantly imagined Buck accidentally announcing the pregnancy rather than planned. If you would rather a planned version, just pop in another request. A similar request came from @quinnstan247. Enjoy :)

You could feel the eyes following you closely as you slipped into the kitchen to refill your glass of orange cordial. Your overprotective, puppy-dog boyfriend remained outside in the garden of the Nash household along with the rest of the team as they stood around Bobby and the BBQ grill. You knew that Buck was searching for any reason he could to follow you inside, but you met his gaze through the windows and offered him a reassuring smile that seemed to subdue him for the minute.

Since the second you found out, Buck had been glued to your side. It had been three weeks since you took that test, since your doctor had confirmed it and in that time you had, had to convince him every single day that he could leave you and go to work. Every day he fought you, wanting the both of you to stay home so you could rest and he could wait on your every want and need, but you couldn’t do that. You were only thirteen weeks along and there was hardly any reason to be confined to the bed just yet. You knew that he was only concerned about the safety of you and the peach you currently carried in your womb. It was endearing and one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen, you hadn’t thought that Buck could get any sweeter, but here you were one act away from having a mouth full of cavities.

What hadn’t helped was that Buck had been responding to a number of pregnancy calls in the past few weeks a few resulting in sadder endings than anyone wanted. They had definitely struck a chord with Buck and had only made him hover all the more.

Adding the water to your cordial, you took a sip of the orange, a light buzz filling your taste-buds. You had become obsessed with anything orange flavoured since your pregnancy diagnosis. Whether it was orange skittles (which Buck had kindly sat and sorted out for you), or orange flavoured chocolate, or even the orange flavoured cupcakes you had found at the grocery store and ate within an hour of buying, anything orange and you were all for it.

Walking back into the garden, your entire body seemed to clench a little as you stepped back into the gaze of the sun. As much as you were enjoying this down time with the 118, it was so hot. The heatwave had only hit LA in the past few days but already it was in full swing and you were feeling every beam of it.

“Y/n,” you turned over to where Athena was sat with Hen and her daughter May. The three of them were stood around the mini bar that Athena had installed, in direct sunlight. Already hot, you fought down the urge to grimace as you moved to stand by them, the sun glaring on your skin. “We were just telling May about Buck and that kiddie ride at the mall. She doesn’t believe us.” Hen informed and a grin split across your lips, taking your mind off of the sweltering heat.

“Oh my, God. I have a photo, hang on,” You pulled your phone out of your shoulder bag and set your drink on the bar, thumb flicking through the many photos in your gallery in search of the one from the Saturday before. “He thought it was funny and I tried to tell him he wouldn’t fit but he insisted,” You giggled and turned your phone for May to see. “I honestly thought I’d have to call nine-one-one.”

Displayed across your screen was the photo that still had you giggling a week later. There sat Buck, who had squeezed his way into the small metal bus which was obviously aimed for children 7 and under. But Buck had twisted his body at all kinds of angles and had somehow managed to worm his way into the ride. His head was poked out of the door hole, his legs curled up against his chest, unable to stretch out in the tiny space that his body was occupying.

What Athena and the others didn’t know was that Buck wouldn’t have gotten into the ride if it wasn’t for you. That morning your hormones had been playing you like a fiddle and every little thing had upset you, the bin bag had broken when you were trying to change it out for a new one, somehow a red sock had slipped in with your whites and now everything you owned was slightly toned pink and they had shown that advert with the puppy sat in a box, in the rain, on the side of the street with people walking past ignoring it. It seemed, that morning, that everything was stacked against you. Buck had offered to come with you to the mall so you could pick up your clothing order from a store, you had ordered certain items that they didn’t have in stock and they had delivered into the store the day before. You were buzzing to see the new pair of pumps you had ordered. You knew that in a few months if not weeks, the shoes would probably be pressing against the sides of your feet and ankles because of the pregnancy swelling, but that hadn’t stopped you from ordering them in your size. However, like everything else that morning, even that didn’t go as planned. The shoes had been delivered in the wrong colour and in a size smaller than you wanted, making them impossible to wear. Buck had seen how disheartened you had been when you left the store, trying not to cry in frustration. He had wanted to do something to cheer you up and in a joking manner he had made a bet with you that he could fit inside the kiddie bus ride.

It had definitely succeeded in cheering you up, if not from how silly he looked, his large muscular frame curled up inside the ride, from when he got stuck and couldn’t get himself out straight away. You had done what you could to help him out, but you were giggling so hard your entire body went weak. When he had finally gotten out, the two of you had continued to giggle all the way home and your mood had been lifted for the rest of the day.

“Oh, my God,” May giggled. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Please send me that!” she begged.

“Of course,” you agreed with a laugh of your own. “I could never gate keep on a photo like this.”

“What made him get in there?”

“It’s Buck, does he need a reason?” Hen scoffed. As the ladies continued to giggle, the heat seemed to make it’s presence known as it glared down onto you. The side of your temples was beginning to throb and your skin was starting to get slick and sticky, sweat oozing from your pores. You raised a hand to swipe at your brow, glancing around the garden for the closest seat, your legs aching.

As you moved towards one of the sun loungers, your boyfriend’s eyes caught onto your movements, already on high alert.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he asked, abandoning his drink at the grill and rushing towards you, one arm slipping around your waist to help guide you to the seat.

“Buck, I’m-”

“Dammit, it’s too hot out here for you. We should’ve cancelled,” he began muttering to himself. “Are you dizzy? Do you need a drink of water? What about something to eat? Is your blood sugar low? What if you’re dehydrated?” The only thing making you dizzy was the hurricane of questions Buck was sending your way, not even leaving a chance for you to answer them. One of his hands instinctively came to rest on the front of your stomach.

“Babe? Baby?” You tried to pull Buck out of his panicked rant, his eyes not once meeting yours as he kept scanning you for any visible injuries. Not that there were any, but the paranoia was getting the best of him and the heat probably wasn’t helping.

“We should get you in the shade,” he decided. “Shit, you should’ve stayed inside. You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. You and peach can’t take this heat. We shouldn’t have come. This is all my fault-”

“Buck!” You pressed your hands to the sides of his face, directing his eyes to yours so you could try and ground him. “Buck, baby, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just a little hot and tired that’s all. It’s normal.” He still seemed a little uncertain, and his eyes held a lifetime of worry for you and his unborn child. “We’re okay. I promise.” You offered him a reassuring smile, your thumb coming to brush against his bottom lip rhythmically, giving him something to focus on. His eyelids pressed shut as he breathed slowly for a second.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause we can go home-”

“We’re fine. I just need to sit for a minute that’s all.” You peeked over his shoulder. “While I’m sitting, we should probably talk to the people behind you, they seem a little shocked. You kind of let the cat out of the bag.” Buck twisted his head to look around at the team behind him, everyone stood, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Eddie was the most comical of the bunch, his glass halfway raised to his mouth ready to take a sip but frozen in time with the news that Buck had unintentionally shared.

“H-Hey, guys,” He chuckled awkwardly with a sheepish grin. “I guess we have some news to share.”

2K notes · View notes

kechiwrites · 1 year ago

Text

property lines

dark!steve rogers x neighbour!reader

kinktober countdown: day two (facefucking).

synopsis: your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject.

wc: 2.2k

cw: dark content, non con, oral (male receiving), femme language + afab!reader, pet names, internal victim blaming, pet names (sweetheart), a touch of misogyny

author’s note: day 2 brings us more dark!steve, i fear i may be incapable of writing him sincerely. he’s just a little too perfect. I like to take off a bit of the shine. thank you @katsukikitten u r my muse.

Your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject. Mostly because you can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose or if he’s just overly friendly. Maybe it’s the signals you give off, bringing a plate of thick, sweet, cheesecake brownies over to the recently sold house next door, hoping to make a new connection. Suburbia can be isolating, and with all of your friends shaking ass in the city, you need to branch out. It really isn’t the kind of home you figured a single man like Steven Grant Rogers would buy, but then again, you lived in your suburban palace alone, willed to you by your late grandmother and only in need of a few renovations.

He’d been so bright, when you first met him, with a perfect white smile and twinkling blue eyes. He’d been happy to accept the desserts, even happier to return the plate a day later, extolling the praise he and his poker buddies lauded on you over the taste. You’d shrugged it off, “The least I could do for a neighbour. I’m just glad you all liked them.”

Secretly though, the compliments had thrilled you, especially once you’d gotten a glimpse at the aforementioned “poker buddies”, the whole lot of them, handsome, built, big. All too happy to fix leaky pipes and paint fences in exchange for chocolate cream pie or a dish of homemade lasagna. But Steven - “Steve, please” - was your most loyal customer, always lending a hand, pausing during his early morning jog to check up on you while you watered your flower beds, asking how your book is going, what you do in that “big old house all by yourself” when you aren’t working on “the next great American novel”, of course (his words, not yours).

It’s fine at first, a little disarming to be at the centre of his white hot attention, burning your flesh like he had you under a magnifying glass on a perfect sunny day. But eventually it’s not fine, eventually Steve Rogers takes more and more steps over the property line of overly friendly and into the front yard of wildly overbearing. Eventually, Mr. Rogers insists on weekly visits, popping into your house by using the spare key under the mat he shouldn’t even know about. Slinging his muscled arm over you during the neighbourhood block party, and your neighbour’s son’s 5th birthday party, and the Fourth of July barbeque. He fixes your car without you asking, brings in your groceries when he sees you unloading them in your driveway, brings your mail to you during his daily jog. It’s helpful sometimes, yes, but it’s also suffocating. And you were going to set him straight. You were! But it’s hard, hard to stare into the face of a suburban god, the literal king of the neighbourhood and tell him no. It’s hard to tell him that he’s making you uncomfortable, that you’d like for him to stop being so goddamn friendly all the time.

So maybe a little of it is your fault. Maybe you should’ve been clearer on your boundaries. Maybe, when handsome, strapping Mr. Rogers came to your front door to ask you to essentially cater one of his poker nights, you shouldn’t have stayed to serve the food, playing happy little housewife in front of Steve’s friends, bringing them cold beers from the fridge and sitting next to Steve, playfully making faces at his hand, then plating up dessert when he asked you to. But it felt good to have his attention. His favour. So when “the boys” start to head home, laying praise and amazement at your feet, you’re sufficiently buttered up for Steve to ask yet another favour of you. It’s not much, of course. Just a little help with cleanup. Then he’ll escort you home himself. After all, there are some real sickos out there.

So you agree. What’s the harm, right?

The harm, it just so happens, comes quickly after you finish drying the dishes Steve washes. You slide the last plate, towel dried as best you could, into his cabinets, sighing in contentment at a job well done. The harm is when Steve turns you around and presses you against the sink, water soaking into the back of your blouse, making the fabric cling to your skin. You stay there for a minute, not processing what’s happening, ready to laugh off another inappropriate joke from Steve.

You don’t really get the chance.

Two heavy hands clap down on your shoulders, exerting pressure on you until you crumple to the floor, knees hitting the tile of Steve's kitchen painfully. You yelp, struggling against him, pressing, then beating your fist against his tree trunk legs.

"Stev-" you choke on his name when your neighbour unzips his trousers before you, undoes the fly of the pair you helped him pick out, with him bent over your shoulder while you held his phone, his front pressed close to your back. Pulls his half hard dick out of pants starched and pressed with the iron he'd borrowed from you because his was "on the fritz" again.

"Open up." He cajoles, and you pin him with an incredulous, confused stare. No. No. This is all wrong. He doesn’t act like that. Steve Rogers isn’t like that.

The hand he doesn't use to stroke himself grabs your jaw, squeezing until you open your mouth, squeezing til it hurts. A sharp, purposeful punch of his hips is all it takes for him to make use of the opening. All it takes to put every little joke, boundary crossing, and stray touch into startling, horrifying perspective.

“It was the baking.” He whispers above you. “Peggy never baked, which was fine.” He sighs above you like he isn’t pistoning his cock deep into your throat with reckless abandon. “But I missed it, y’know? And you, you bake how angels ought to, sweetheart.”

Tears stream down your face while Steve uses you, dragging your dazed, crying face back and forth on his hard-on. On a particularly strong thrust, he broaches your throat. Your eyes roll up, until he can barely see the perimeter of your irises, and you warble out a miserable moan, begging, all while wrapped around his dick, for a reprieve. Your head is pinned to the counter behind you, and even though you shove against the muscle of his thighs, Steve brooks no quarter.

“Just take it,” he coos, like he wants you to swallow cough syrup, “it’ll be over soon.” his breath stutters when your lips brush against his balls. Steve moves one of his hands to cup the back of your head, keeping you as close as possible when he comes down your throat, groaning in pleasure while you struggle to swallow stream after bitter stream of his seed, lest you choke on it or fucking drown.

He finally releases you, and you pull back so fast you bang the back of your head on his pristine white counters. The pain radiates through your scalp, grounding you in the moment, cementing you to the spotless linoleum floor of Steve Rogers’ kitchen. You’re both panting, eager to fill your lungs with gulps of air.

“Whew.” He sighs, hands on his hips, like that took a lot out of him. “I didn’t mean to get so rough with you, just didn’t expect the struggle.” He chuckles, patting you on the head. “But you settled down quick, didn’t ya?” His tone takes on…contentment? Happiness?

No. That’s not quite right.

It’s pride. Steve is looking down at you, your spit and cum slick mouth, the weepy, watery state of your eyes, and the disarray of the hair he’d used as a handle, with pride.

Your stomach roils.

He bends low and you flinch away from him, smacking your head on the countertop again. He cocks his head at the involuntary movement, and smiles at you. A familiar, warm thing. One that made your heart flutter with pleasure, beat fast with your own surge of pride when he accepted a pie, or offered a compliment. Now it does the same, your heart speeds up, your palms itch curiously, and your brain doesn’t know if you’re happy or sad. Doesn’t know if it craves those smiles anymore.

“Just wanna set you on your feet. C’mon.” He speaks quietly, like he’s soothing a frightened animal, and hooks his hand under your armpits, heaving you up with the same startling strength he'd used to face fuck the fight out of you.

“It’s okay.” You bleat, voice as wobbly and unstable as the pair of legs struggling to keep you upright. And it’s not, it’s far from okay, the taste of him lingers in the back of your throat and if you think about it for even a second more you’ll throw up all over his shiny floors, on those godforsaken pants.

“I admit,” he laughs, ducks his head with that small town charm he does so well, “I wanted to last longer. But you were too good.” He winks at you, like you share a secret. Like you’re in league with each other.

He staring, waiting for you to say something, arches a brow like it’s your line and you’re fucking up the show.

But there it is again, that smile, sunny and open, and so pristine.

“Let’s get you home.” He herds you towards his front door, hand glued to the small of your back, his pinky finger stroking the skin exposed by the riding up of your still wet shirt. The two of you walk into the balmy summer air, and the spaces in between the black night, punctuated with the occasional white streetlight, designate your path home. Some of your neighbours’ houses are still illuminated, their warm yellow windows denoting the presence of life. You wonder what goes on behind their doors, you wonder if someone is having a good night somewhere close to you.

You come across your door faster than you were prepared for, the cheery yellow paint job Steve and James had done for caramel apple pie, mocks you. The way he’d smiled in your face, touched you, laughed. Steve shifts next to you, holding onto your extensive tower of pyrex and tupperware, for an instant your blood runs cold at the prospect of Steve inviting himself in, like he’s done so many times before. Not to bring in groceries or put together a dresser, but to pin you prone to the carpet of your bedroom and smile at you.

“So!” He turns, “Same time next week?” You gawk at him, and when you don’t say or do anything, he stoops and slides your extra keys out from under your Garfield emblazoned doormat. The jingle of two, simple metal keys against the little bell shaped key-chain makes your head pound, your blood boil. He unlocks the door, and gestures for you to take a step indoors. You raise both hands, palms upturned so he can give the keys back, so you can hide them, or melt them, or flush them down the toilet. Instead, you get to watch him slip the key-ring into his pocket, before he places your dishes into your uplifted open palms. “I gotta say, the lemon bars were a hit.” He tweaks your nose between his thumb and forefinger, his compliment tempered by the greedy shine in his eyes. You nearly scratch your own eyes out when you get that pleased, soft tingle in your chest.

He smiles and you salivate. He compliments you and your heart responds. He’s proud and your brain tells you ‘I’m happy’.

Why hasn’t it gone away? Will it ever go away?

“Maybe those brownies again, the cream cheese ones?” His voice is hopeful, soft and pliant, like he’s worried you’ll say ‘no’.

Like there’s a world where he’d take no for an answer.

You nod, a jerky, quick gesture that rattles your brain around in your skull. “Sure. Yeah.” You answer, sweaty hands slipping against tempered glass and plastic lids. “Yes. Brownies.” Steve beams, clapping his hands together, once, loud, drawing your eyes to the brutish width of them.

“Fantastic. I can’t wait.” He jogs down your front steps, and the fist secured around your lungs loosens with every step he takes away from you. He pauses at the side walk, one foot still on your property, the other poised to leave it.

“We make a great team. Don’t we?” He turns to you, and this time, he isn’t smiling. This time, his eyes cut through the night and the streetlight and the foggy haze of misfortune clouding your brain.

And the fear finally comes.

You kick your door closed, and you lock your door, and you drop your pyrex and tupperwear and serving spoons in the sink and you lock your windows and you get into bed, still dressed for a poker night you had no business being at, and you pull the covers up and up and over your face.

But the fear doesn’t go away.

And neither will your neighbour.

god i want him so bad. tomorrow, captain soap.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

support city girls who bought $50 of baked cheesecake today, reblog what you like.

966 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

Wicked Games 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s voice sends a bristle up your neck as his apartment door opens. You crinkle the mostly empty bag of pretzels you discovered in the back of the cupboard. They’re stale. “I got you a surprise.”

He strolls in with his usual valiant triumph. You sneer as you smell something rancid. He has a paper bag in his hands and a reusable shopping bag on his elbow. You clamp your lips tight and gag, putting your fist to your mouth.

“Oh god,” you choke out, “oh--” You race over to the sink and wretch. “What is that?” You spew up the belly full of pretzels. “It smells like dogshit.”

“Shwarma... Tony suggested it--”

“Get it away from me! I asked for pickles!” You snarl and grip the counter as you puke. Your whole body shakes as you empty your guts.

“No problem, don’t gotta be rude about it.”

“You did this to me,” you snap between mouthfuls of bile.

He puts down the grocery bag and walks out with the paper one. You grumble and roll your eyes back against hot tears.

You’re left trembling and barely standing as you cling to the edge of the granite. This is miserable. If you’re not soul-suckingly hungry, you’re sick to the bone. You close your eyes as your mind stirs along with your stomach.

All those things he’s said. The little snippets of what could or might happen. The uncertainties. ‘Your symptoms could be worse’ or ‘we don’t know what the serum will do’. What are you? A lab rat!

You turn on the faucet without lifting your head to rinse the vomit down the drain. You would rather have stayed with Barrett. That thought, that mistaken whim, fades away. No, you wouldn’t. You’d rather not deal with either of them.

“I called a doctor. He’ll be by later to check on you. Make sure everything’s fine,” he affirms. As if that’s some comfort. You’d prefer if he’d just take you somewhere to get rid of the thing. “Hey, I can’t hear what you’re thinking but I can hear your heart. If you’re mad, tell me.”

“Why do you think... I’m mad?” You pant and pause to rinse out your mouth, spitting the water carelessly at the sink. You push yourself straight and huff. “You don’t care at all. You’re not the one...” you clutch your stomach. “...suffering.”

“I care. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” he argues.

“Sure,” you drag your feet over to him, ��where are the fucking pickles?”

“Just...” he bends down as you do and catches your hand before you can reach into the bag. “Sit down and relax. I’ll get you whatever you need.”

“What I need is an abortion--”

“Shut the hell up,” he keeps a hold on your hand and yanks you up. “Don’t you say that to me again. Got it.”

“Ow,” you wince and writhe in his grasp. “It was a fucking joke--”

“First, it’s not funny. Second, watch your language.”

You furrow your brow and wriggle until he lets you go. You rub your chafed skin and back up, “fine, Captain. Your order is my command.”

You slump away and sit at the table. Being still reminds you of the small aches that are getting a bit more noticeable each time you stop. In your hips, your back, even your tits. You lean on the table with one elbow and watch him. He takes out a large jar of pickles.

“Chocolate sauce?” You ask.

“You didn’t say,” he goes to the drawer and grabs a fork. He brings both to you and puts them on the table.

You pop the lid off with almost no effort. You hesitate for a moment but your hunger overtakes you. You reach in with two fingers and pluck out a thick dill. You bite into it, the juices flowing down your chin.

“Mmmph,” you gnaw on it until it’s gone. Your cheeks are full as Steve backs up.

“I did get chocolate. Oreos and some candy bars but you really shouldn’t eat too much of them--”

“Give them,” you demand as you shake a hand at him.

He sighs and drops them next to the pickles.

“You should try something more substantial. I could do up an omelette or chicken and rice--”

“Bland,” you dismiss his suggestion as you tear open the pack of oreos. You make a sandwich with two of the cookies and half a pickle. You shove half in your mouth and growl.

“God...” he mutters.

You look at him with a flash of rag. You chew and swallow and stand.

“Now you think I’m gross, huh?”

“No,” he watches you placidly. “I’m just concerned--”

“You weren’t that night when you didn’t put a damn condom on. Fucking a stranger.”

“I just told you to watch your language,” he sniffs.

“You’re not my goddamn father. I haven’t seen him in a decade and good riddance.” You stuff the rest of the cookies and pickle into your mouth.

“Right.”

You tilt your head and munch rapidly, another streak of agitation rising.

“What? You think I have daddy issues? Funny how men say that instead of thinking that they might be the issue.”

“I didn’t say--”

“No, you’re just standing there like—like a dumbass.”

“Last time,” he warns.

“Or what? What are you going to do, Steve Rogers? Can’t get me drunk this time, so maybe you’ll just hold me down and ra--”

“Don’t,” he grabs you by a fistful of hair. He’s fast and strong. You yelp. “That’s not what happened. You wanted it. You said so.”

“I was blacked out. I don’t remember,” you sneer through your teeth.

“You keep saying that but I can hear your pulse pick up--”

“Ouch. What is it, Cap? You only pick on the weak? You can’t fuck a drunk girl so now you gotta rough around a pregnant woman--”

He lets you go and raises both hands. His blue eyes are dilated and his jaw is square and sharp. “Enough. Alright. Enough. I went out and got what you want. Sit down and eat.”

You stare at him and rub your scalp. He sighs and drops his arms.

“Don’t act like you had it better before,” he shakes his head and picks up the shopping bag. “Or that you can do better than this.”

His words slice through you. It must be the hormones but self-awareness can’t take away that ache. He isn’t wrong, even if this isn’t what you want. You stagger back and sit.

Look at you. You’re some pathetic animal eating pickles and cookies. You’re disgusting. You’re... lost.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #wicked games #au #mcu #marvel #series #drabble #captain america #avengers

218 notes · View notes

6ix9inewiturmom · 7 months ago

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy- Chris Sturniolo

Summary: You got a little jealous and insecure about chris’ relationship with Tara, the fans don’t know about you so it makes your thoughts a little worse.

Warnings: Arguments, inscure, fluff, use of Y/N, kinda Asshole chris, TW! co comparison

A/N: I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS BABIES?! also a PSA!! no hate to tara i love her sm she’s absolutely amazing and beautiful this is jus a FICTIONAL story!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was an average Tuesday for me sitting in my apartment waiting for chris to come over so we can have our normal once a week movie night at my house. i knew chris had a video to film, i assumed it was for his youtube channel cause normally they film either on monday or tuesday for their wednesday videos. The endless scroll of tiktok was genuinely getting exhausting, considering chris and i had both decided to keep our relationship private until we felt comfortable enough to share with his fans, i always get chris fan edits all over my for you page, which was nice, sometimes i send him the good ones to see his reaction, but as im scrolling through tiktok a video popped up of chris and his newer friend tara, singing ‘Primadonna’ by Marina, now normally i don’t get jealous or insecure because i know he’s mine and im his, he ALWAYS made sure i was okay with anything, but he never told me the video he was doing was with her? she had this newer series on her channel called ‘Stuck in a car with..’ and last weeks was Nick, so i’m assuming this weeks was chris.. but why wouldn’t he tell me? he tells me everything? why was she smiling at chris like that? does she know he has a girlfriend? did he tell her? why was this the song choice? why was he not telling me it was Tara that he was filming with? i trust chris why am i overthinking so much? why am i questioning him? do i have a right to question things? should i test him? should i just ask? what if he gets mad at me for being like this?

A billion thoughts were flooding my once at eased mind with thoughts of Insecurities and Jealousy. she’s a beautiful woman, amazing style, she’s funny, she’s a lot of things i’m not, but does that matter to chris?

i get up off my bed to head to the bathroom to run me a nice warm bath to see if that’ll ease my mind, i step in the bathroom and turn on the light and start the water and stop in the bathroom mirror and stare. i just sit here for a good 4 minutes looking at myself, comparing myself to her, was it her perfect skin? her perfect figure? i let out a frustrated sigh and hop in the tub and my tense body softens at the hot water absorbing into my skin. i lean back in the tub and stare at the ceiling. questioning myself what i’m gonna do.

it’s now about 6pm, i’ve taken a bath, nervous baked, cookies, brownies, and a chocolate cake, baking always seems to calm my nerves down, i’ve watched 7 movies, no word from chris which is weird, but what’d i expect.

Speak of the fucking devil.

Chrissy 🎀

Hey ma, sorry i’ve not responded, we just got done filming and we ran a few errands and im on the way to your house now baby.

this motherfucker, did he just lie to my face? so he’s now believing his lie that he was filming with his brothers?

Y/N

doors open 🙃

maybe i should just play it cool, maybe i should just see how long he cracks? nah i shouldn’t do that thats some toxic shit.

i hear my doorbell ring a couple times, i get off the couch and walk to the door and open it up to find chris standing there in his light blue Fresh Love hoodie smiling at me.

“Hi baby” he smiles at me holding his arms out expecting a hug from me like i normally do but i can’t help but stare into his eyes and my once harsh gaze softens at his smile and i walk closer giving him a hug and he kisses my head.

i pull away from his soft hug and let him in. as he walks in he notices my disarray of a house, dishes everywhere, flour is scattered over my kitchen counter he has a puzzled look on his face.

“what’s with all those dishes and stuff?” he points around at my kitchen.

“oh that?… yeah i uh started watching tiktok waiting for you and i started baking..” my voice trails off.

“okay..” he starts “anyways… what movie do you wanna watch” he walks with me to my couch and sits down with his arm draped over my shoulders.

“i don’t wanna watch a movie” i smile “i just wanna sit and talk to you for a little bit” he smiles softly at me.

“what do you wanna talk about ma” he chuckles smiling at me

“umm how was filming?” i drop my head playing with my rings on my fingers.

“oh yeah it was good, a lot of good laughs, but it’s how we normally are” he laughs nervously.

“so just you and your brothers?” i lift my head up smiling at him. at this point i blacked out, i completely lost control of my voice, i trust him but why wasn’t he telling me the truth?

“yeah, we was filming for wednesdays new video” he looks me deeply in my eyes, straight up lied to me.

my lips kiss my teeth and i nod, “so Tara is your brother?” i spit out.

his eyes widen, and his face goes pale “Y/N, it’s not what it looks like, look i know me and you have been together for a year and a half in private, she knows i have a girlfriend who i love” he places his hand on my knee rubbing circles on it.

i nod “yeah so why didn’t you just tell me you were with tara? then when i asked you completely lied to my face, yeah i saw the fucking tiktok you guys made, and best believe me, the comments on that fucking video? a BUNCH of boat emojis, and ‘oh the way he looks at her’ what the fuck chris?” my voice cracks with anger and sadness

“Y/N i just know how you are..” he looks down playing with his thumbs.

“HOW I AM? chris i have done nothing but trust you, im sorry for expecting the bare minimum by i don’t know my boyfriend to tell me that he’s filming a video with someone? then not lie to me about who he was with?” i yell standing up off the couch.

“Y/N sit down, talk to me ma, i promise it’s not like that” chris starts trying to grab my hand, i jerk my hand back.

“no you’re not gonna ‘ma’ me, at all, you lied chris, u caught you in a lie, if i would have never seen that fucking tiktok, you would have never fucking told me about it chris, what the fuck?” i pace around my living room in anger and in almost tears

“Y/N…baby” he gets off the couch trying to calm me down.

“no chris, get away from me, get out, i don’t wanna see you” i sit on the floor next to my window in fetal position with my head between my knees.

“Y/N pls don’t push me out” he starts “please, i love you” he squats down at eye level with me

“give me one second chris” i stand up and go out the door unlocking my phone and dialing matt’s number.

“Y/N? what’s up?” matt answers

“come get your brother, i can’t look at him” my voice shakes and tears form my eyes.

“what happened Y/N” his voice panicked

“i should let chris tell you, just please matt?” i single tear drops from the left side of my face

“i’m on my way” he sighs.

i end the call walking back inside and chris is sitting on the couch with his face in his hands as if he’s stressed.

“your brother is on his way Christopher” i sigh walking to my room and locking the door, obviously he followed me sitting at my door with his head leaning against the door.

“Y/N please… i just know since our relationship is private how sometimes you can get insecure” he starts; not helping the situation.

“Chris, leave, you’re not helping” i start crying

“fine, you know fuck this, i tried explaining myself, you don’t believe me, ive tried, now im the problem” he sighs dragging his feet and slamming my front door which causes me to jump and start harshly crying. i hear a ping from my phone assuming its chris i turn it around to find Nick frantically texting me.

Nick Bean 🫘

Y/N??

WHAT DID MY BROTHER DO?!

ARE YOU GUYS BROKEN UP?

WHO I NEEDA FIGHT??

i guess news travels fast in the sturniolo household.

Y/N 🎀

no we’re not broken up, he didn’t tell me that he was filming with tara, told me he was filming with you and matt, but i found out from a tiktok.. all of his comments were shipping him, and i know our relationship is private but like nick… i love your brother so much..

i start crying harder then i’ve cried before. i never would have thought chris would make me cry like this, never, he’s always been so communicative with me. why start this now?

Nick Bean 🫘

what the fuck..

why?

but i have to say one thing Y/N, you know he would never leave you, i can say that, i can’t justify his actions but i can say he loves you dearly.

was i overthinking? he lied. was i being dramatic? he lied.

Y/N 🎀

i know nick, but i jus need a couple days to cool down.. that’s all im asking, a couple days to get his ass straight

i put my phone down and power it off so i can sleep without interruptions, or at least try and attempt to sleep.

about an hour later i woke up, tears staining my face, mascara still running down my cheeks, my heart aches. why would chris do something like this.

Two Days Later

the past two days i’ve heard nothing from anyone, nick hasn’t checked on me, matt hasn’t, and i expected chris not to check on me considering he’s playing the victim card.

New Message Requests from Ms.Yummy on instagram!

hm? tara texted me? god she’s probably the last person i expected to hear from.

Mrs.Yummy

Hey girl! so i heard about you and chris! i just want to say he did tell me all about you, he bragged so much about you!! sorry if things got mixed up between me and chris!! nothing is going on between us! i hope you can forgive him! <3

so i’m guessing chris texted her. wow. he can text her but not me? are you kidding me? i clicked on her profile and found myself gazing at her pictures, looking at the way she does her eyeliner, the way she dresses, her smile, her nonexistent acne, her perfect makeup. fuck i’m doing it again, but i’m not answering her.

Movies, sleep, cry, shower. that’s my routine for the last 2 days. i can’t live without him. maybe he’s right. maybe i am insecure. maybe i am jealous.

fuck it.

Y/N

come over at 5. we need to talk.

i texted chris. we needed to fix whatever problems we had. weather it’s me being insecure and jealous or chris lying to me. we needed to fix things.

Chrissy 🎀

i’m coming over now.

fuck. i had no time to get ready, i looked like shit, felt like shit, still had stains on my face from tears. never mind, i didn’t care, i just needed my boyfriend back.

about an hour waiting for him i was in between dozing off and staying awake, i hear keys jingling at my door. damnit he has a spare key. he slowly walks in holding flowers and my favorite gummy candies and chocolate.

“Hey Y/N i’m sorry it took so long, i ubered all around LA, you know how embarrassing that is? matt refused to drive me anywhere today. him and nick are both mad at me since the whole…yk?” he started nervous smiling.

“these are pretty, and thanks for the food” i say walking up to him with a straight face, and grabbing things from his hand and placing them on my kitchen counter.

“so now what?” he placed his hand on the counter.

“i don’t know chris, You told Tara about our relationship problems obviously, she took your side” i rolled my eyes.

“look i know i fucked up Y/N, i should have just told you about filming with Tara, i shouldn’t have lied..” he starts

“you didn’t just lie Chris. you lied to my fucking face even when i questioned you.. THEN you told Tara about us and she fucking texted me all silly and ass kissing me.. how do you think i’ve felt? genuinely curious how do you think i’ve been doing?” i sit on the counter with my arms crossed staring at him looking at the floor.

“well uhm by the looks of things around here, and your stained cheeks, not good…” he continued to look at the ground moving his ring on his finger around in circles around his finger.

“chris you’ve got me looking in the mirror differently thinking i’m flawed, i mean look at Tara? she’s fucking beautiful, she’s skinny, she’s funny, she’s got amazing style, and definitely good taste in men if she’s interested in you..” my voice fades off and i start breathing in and out trying not to cry.

“fuck” he whispers “Y/N you’re all of that and more… no i’m not making this up, you’re absolutely the right woman for me, i should have told you about tara, im just saying i should have never made you feel different about yourself, i shouldn’t have lied, and i shouldn’t have lied to you. i’m sorry Y/N, for everything, im sorry for making you feel any less then perfect, you’re so very perfect to me” he grabs both sides of my face looking at me deep in the eyes. “you” he kisses my forehead “are” he kisses my right cheek “so” he kisses my left cheek “perfect” he finally places a little kiss on my lips making me smile.

“there’s that beautiful smile i’ve missed” he says still cupping my cheeks making a soft pink color appear on my cheeks.

“i’m sorry chris, i may have overreacted but im sorry for causing an emotional distress upon our relationship” i softly smile.

he places his hands down besides my legs on the counter “that doesn’t matter anymore. i promise from here on out, no matter what, no matter who, i will tell you who im filming with, okay?” he holds out his pinkie, i roll my eyes and intertwining my pinkie with his and smiling.

“i just want you Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, only you, one day i’m gonna make you take my last name, i can PROMISE you that” he says kissing my lips softly.

“i only want you Christopher Owen Sturniolo” i smile back softly giving him another peck on the cheek “can we take a nap please… i haven’t been sleeping good lately… and i just want you to hold me” i look down and back up at chris with his blue eyes gazing down at me smiling.

“yes but i have to do something before anything okay? but you can’t look” he smirks

“i’m confused but okay..” i smile softly.

Liked by Nicksturniolo, Mattsturniolo, MommyYN and others

______________________________________________

ChrisSturniolo WHOOPSIE FINGER SLIPPED.. Hard launch :) @MommyYn

______________________________________________

Comments disabled

______________________________________________

“CHRIS” i drag out the ‘s’ “no way..” i almost had tears in my eyes.

“now the entire world can see that you are mine and i am yours” he smiled kissing my lips softly “now we can take a nap.. come here ma” he opens his arms out for me i lay down on the couch resting my head on his chest and he kisses my head whispering sweet nothings to me, as i fall asleep peacefully for the first time in 2 days with my boyfriend.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N pt 2 I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS!! again no hate to tara, i love tara, she’s an icon to me, this is completely fictional!! I LOVE YOU ALL

XOXO

Gabs 💋

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #tara yummy

314 notes · View notes

97linelover · 2 months ago

Text

Lights, camera & Action - Kim Mingyu

You were currently getting the cake ready for Mingyu’s return when your phone vibrated. At first, you tried to ignore it. But as it continued to buzz, you answered, “Hi?”

You didn’t check the caller ID. “Hi baby, just wanted to let you know that I’m 5 minutes away,” his raspy voice spoke through the phone.

“Alright love, I can’t wait,” you said with the brightest smile into the phone. “Love you,” you added before ending the call.

You dusted the chocolate nut cake with powdered sugar and then washed the dishes. The sound of Mingyu’s footsteps growing closer made you all giddy.

“Hey baby,” he said with his deep, velvety voice as you turned around, grinning brightly. “Gyu,” you said, practically jumping into his arms.

“God, I missed you,” he said while holding you close, kissing your head. You looked up at him, “One week in Tokyo and then one week in Paris. How was it?” You walked into the kitchen, and Mingyu groaned at the sight of the cake.

“You made my favorite,” he said, his mouth practically watering.

“Yes, you mentioned you were craving something sweet, so I decided to bake a cake,” you said as he kissed you softly. “You know what I really meant with something sweet, my love?” he whispered into your ear while placing soft kisses there.

A small whimper escaped your lips as he gently backed you up until you bumped against the table.

“No cake?” you asked innocently, and he smirked.

“No, baby, I was craving your sweet little pussy,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

He lifted you onto the table, your baby blue summer dress rising to expose your white slip. Mingyu quickly got on his knees and pulled the white fabric aside, eagerly devouring you. His mouth made you cry out his name, and the way he hovered over you, his body pounding into you, made it all you could think about.

“I missed you, fuck,” he groaned as he moved perfectly, hitting every spot he needed to.

“Missed you too, Gyu, so much,” you moaned, feeling the familiar sensation approaching. “Gonna come, Gyu,” you said breathlessly.

“Yes, baby, cream my cock,” his hand wandered to your neck, squeezing slightly.

“Oh God,” you felt yourself tipping over the edge as your entire body shook, Mingyu moving even faster, chasing his own release.

You knew he was close from the way his abs were flexed, his neck vein popping out, and his focused expression. One thing was for sure, Mingyu looked like a Greek god while fucking you, his tan skin glistening with sweat, dark strands of hair falling into his face.

“Fill me up, Gyu,” you moaned, clinging to his arms. His brown eyes found yours, and he leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was lazy and slightly sloppy, and soon you felt him fill you up. He kissed your lips again, grinning.

“Well, indeed,” you giggled. “Fuck.”

He pulled out and hastily grabbed a towel to clean you up. You were slightly sore and hissed. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, kissing your thigh. You softly pushed him away.

“Let’s shower,” you said, taking off your dress. Mingyu followed you, and you both enjoyed a quick shower. Mingyu pouted, saying he was hungry.

“Should we order some pasta?” you suggested, and Mingyu agreed. “We can watch the new Inside Out movie,” he said. “There were huge posters everywhere in France.”

“Oh yes, I wanted to watch it last week,” you said happily while tying a knot around your bathrobe.

When the food arrived, Mingyu was quieter than usual, lost in thought.

“Are you okay, Gyu?” you asked, taking some pizza bread.

“I signed a new collab in Paris,” he admitted, and your eyes widened. “Which one?”

“Calvin Klein asked me to be their new ambassador,” he said shyly.

“Calvin Klein? Mingyu, that’s huge!” you said, smiling proudly. He nodded. “It sure is. I have my first official shoot next week, so I need to work out some more.”

“You work out enough, baby. Don’t stress yourself,” you said honestly. He sighed. “But it’s CK; they will all look at my body,” he pouted.

You got up and approached him. “I swear to God, Mingyu, you’re perfect. Your body is so freaking hot, and I know how insane your pictures will look.”

He leaned back, his bare chest on full display. “You think so?” he asked, looking unsure. You nodded. “You’re a dream come true,” you said, opening your bathrobe and letting it fall to the floor. “And I just can’t get enough of you.”

“God, baby,” he groaned. “I think this should be the best workout,” he smirked, kissing your neck.

As the shooting day came, you decided to surprise Mingyu on set. You typed in the address, and your iPhone guided you through the empty neighborhood. Mingyu had told you it was kind of like a warehouse.

You called Sumi, his manager, who walked out of the steel door, waving you in. “Y/N! It’s cold; come inside!” she said with the biggest smile.

You hurried inside. “I took the train today,” you said, smiling slightly.

“Yeah, Gyu told us you were stubborn this morning,” she said playfully. You laughed. “He was in a rush, so I didn’t want to keep him behind.”

“Perfect! He’s already shooting the first look. There are three more,” Sumi said, and you nodded while listening. “Does he know?” she asked.

You shook your head. “No, I got off work earlier!” you smiled.

“He will be happy,” she said, smiling. You saw the lights of the camera flashing. “Yes, like that. Now grab the shirt, flirt with the camera,” the photographer instructed.

You saw Mingyu standing there, dressed in jeans and no shirt. Your mouth fell agape. Shirtless?

You watched every move he made, fascinated by his professionalism. The way he moved his arms, how he lured the camera in with his eyes, and how he bit his lip while stroking down his abs.

Mingyu looked up, and his eyes found yours, a huge grin spreading across his face. “Okay, and we are done!” the photographer yelled. Mingyu ran towards you, lifting you up while twirling you around. “My baby!” he said, kissing your lips softly.

“Mingyu, hurry. Next outfit!” a petite girl said. “You can go into the changing room, and then we will help you once you’re dressed.”

“Come on, you can help me change,” Mingyu said, smirking. You gasped, “Gyu, not here.” He laughed.

You followed him into the small dressing room, where a pair of boxer shorts and jeans lay. “Will you be wearing a shirt?” you asked, confused.

“Yeah, a jeans jacket,” Mingyu chuckled.

“Mmm,” you muttered, feeling slightly possessive.

Mingyu didn’t have time to think about your mood and quickly changed. You watched him with curious eyes. “Do you like it?” he asked, his shy smile as he turned towards you.

“You look sexy,” you said honestly, kissing him softly.

A knock interrupted you. “We’ll finish later,” he whispered in your ear.

You watched as he stood there, looking at the pictures with a hint of red on his cheeks. Was he blushing?

“Baby, come here,” he said, and you shyly walked over. “Are those good?” he asked, showing you some of the photos. You looked over them and pointed out one where he flexed his arms above his head. “This one is really good!”

Mingyu grinned, pulling you closer. “You have an eye for this,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “But what do you think? Should we frame this one for our room?”

You laughed, “Only if you sign it.” Mingyu chuckled and kissed your temple, “Deal.”

The rest of the shoot went smoothly, and every time you caught Mingyu’s gaze, he would send a wink your way, making your heart flutter. You couldn’t wait to have him all to yourself again.

As the shoot wrapped up, Mingyu thanked the team with his signature charm, giving everyone around him a smile that could light up the entire room. You watched him interact with the crew, feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest. He was so natural, so confident—yet the way he kept glancing at you showed that, no matter how many people admired him, his attention was always on you.

After he changed out of the last outfit, Mingyu walked over to you, his hand slipping naturally into yours. “Ready to go, my love?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you replied, squeezing his hand. As you two walked out of the building, the cool evening air greeted you, making you shiver slightly. Mingyu noticed immediately and pulled you closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

The car ride back home was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft music playing on the radio. Every now and then, Mingyu would glance over at you, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he drove. The city lights flickered by, creating a soft glow that danced across his features.

When you finally arrived home, Mingyu turned off the car and looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know,” he started, his voice teasing, “I still owe you a little ‘thank you’ for surprising me today.”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending not to know what he meant. “Oh? And how exactly do you plan on thanking me, Mr. Calvin Klein ambassador?”

He smirked, leaning in to kiss you slowly, taking his time as if savoring every second. “I think you’ll like it,” he whispered against your lips before pulling back and hopping out of the car, quickly moving around to open your door. His chivalry never failed to make you smile.

As soon as you stepped inside your apartment, Mingyu’s hands were on you, pulling you close as he kicked the door shut behind him. His lips found yours again, more insistent this time, his hands roaming your back, pulling you flush against him.

“You know,” he murmured between kisses, “seeing you there today… watching me… it drove me crazy.” His voice was deep, laced with desire.

You smiled against his lips. “Is that so?” you teased, threading your fingers through his hair. “Then I guess I should surprise you more often.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you as he picked you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. “You’re welcome to surprise me anytime,” he said, carrying you towards the bedroom.

Once inside, Mingyu gently laid you down on the bed, his eyes darkening with need. He took his time undressing you, his fingers lingering on every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory.

When he finally joined you, the air between you was electric, filled with unspoken promises. His touch was gentle at first, reverent, as if he was worshipping every part of you. But as the night went on, the need between you both grew stronger, more urgent.

Mingyu made love to you with a fervor that left you breathless, every kiss, every touch, driving you both closer to the edge. And when you finally reached that point of no return, it felt like the world disappeared around you, leaving only the two of you in that perfect moment.

Afterward, you lay in each other’s arms, your bodies tangled together, hearts still racing. Mingyu’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his breathing steadying as he held you close.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” he whispered into the quiet of the room, his voice full of emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love. “And I’m lucky to have you, Gyu. I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve achieved. But more than that, I’m just happy that you’re mine.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly. “Always yours,” he promised, his words a vow.

#seventeen #kpop #svt #seventeen angst #au #gyu #mingyu #mingyu imagines #smut #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x reader

355 notes · View notes

incorrectbatfam · 2 years ago

Note

Could you please do some headcanons about Batmans cooking disasters over the years?

Age 5: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

Age 6: He decorates a cookie so badly another kid cries until they throw up

Age 7: He tries to make a PB&J and the countertop is sticky for a week

Age 8: He tries to make Martha's chicken noodle soup but ends up crying on the kitchen floor surrounded by half-chopped vegetables

Age 9: He tries to impress a houseguest by recreating Thomas's mixology tricks (sans alcohol). There's still a stain on the ceiling to this day

Age 10: He makes green eggs. It's not on purpose. He's never even read the book

Age 11: He makes lava in the school cafeteria

Age 12: He tries to make cheese bread by drilling holes into a baguette and filling it with melted nacho cheese

Age 13: He melts a cutting board in the oven

Age 14: He folds a Pop Tart

Age 15: The chocolate-covered bananas he makes for the school bake sale come out looking very very wrong

Age 16: He's asked to drop a home economics class after mistaking refried beans for pumpkin puree in a pie

Age 17: He boils eggs in the carton

Age 18: He makes his entire freshman dorm evacuate after burning his ramen to ash

Age 19: He sculpts a severed hand out of meatloaf and is sent to the university psychologist

Age 20: He tries to bake a cake but doesn't have a cake pan, so he pours the batter right in the oven

Age 21: He tries Thomas's mixology tricks again, this time with alcohol. One of the tricks is flipping it over his head. He ends up losing part of his vision for 3 days

Age 22: He burns water. Harley Quinn is there. She still holds it over his head

Age 23: He packs his first patrol snack as Batman. It's a chocolate bar wrapped in a tortilla. The chocolate melts onto his gloves and he drops the tortilla down a sewer grate

Age 24: He makes an ice cream cookie sandwich to eat while he and Batgirl work on a case, but he's so engrossed in the work that he doesn't notice it melt until Babs points it out

Age 25: He enters the first annual Justice League cook-off and immediately gets banned from ever entering again

Age 26: He tries to comfort little Dickie Grayson by making fried cornbread from a book of Roma comfort recipes. It turns out about as well as you'd expect when you give Bruce Wayne hot oil. Bruce is genuinely bummed out, but Dick says it's the thought that counts

Age 27: Clark delivers a huge hunk of beef from the farm. Instead of waiting for Alfred to come back, Bruce and Dick try to break it down with a power saw

Age 28: Bruce and Dick's latkes are burned so badly they can play floor hockey with them

Age 29: He makes stuffed mushrooms. Badly. Like imagine the worst way you can fuck up a mushroom. It still won't compare to what Bruce did. And it's for a potluck with the West-Allens that Barry won't let him live down

Age 30: Bruce sees Dick struggling to make ravioli and he's like "Let me show you how it's done" before proceeding to make it infinitely worse

Age 31: Bruce sees a hungry Jason Todd and the first thing he does when they return to the manor is make a double-decker bread sandwich. That's bread with two more slices of bread in between

Age 32: Bruce packs Dick and Jason's lunchboxes when Alfred is out of town. They're supposed to include a salad. Instead, Dick gets a whole head of lettuce and Jason's is just a bottle of ranch

Age 33: He makes hot chocolate after patrol... but forgets the chocolate

Age 34: The Manor is too cold, so Bruce tries to warm it up by making Jason's favorite soup. His hands shake the whole time. Suddenly, he's eight years old again, sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by scraps reminding him of his failure

Age 35: Jack and Janet Drake are out of the country again, leaving young Timmy by himself. Bruce decides to bring some dinner over. It's baked perfectly, but it's full of things that shouldn't be anywhere near a casserole dish. They end up ordering takeout and watching old detective movies together

Age 36: Steph walks through how to make waffles. Bruce is standing there, watching closely and taking notes. They still come out looking radioactive

Age 37: Cass asks if they can get smoothies. Bruce says he can make them at home. She gives him a warning look but that's not enough to stop him. Cue Bruce forgetting to put the lid on the blender

Age 38: Jason's first night back at home, Bruce tries to make that soup. It shoots out like a geyser and hits the lights. He's panicking until he hears Jason laugh, and then the soup doesn't matter

Age 39: Damian screws up hummus and he desperately tries to hide it so people won't see him as inadequate at something so basic. Instead of getting upset, Bruce assures him it's okay and offers to fix it. (He doesn't fix it, he just makes it worse)

Age 40: Bruce's birthday happens while he's fake-dead and away from home. He grabs a convenience store cupcake and sticks a single candle on it. Then he closes his eyes, pretends his family is around him, and makes a wish. (The candle droops and sets the hotel sheets on fire)

Age 41: Back at the Manor, he attempts to make lemonade on a particularly hot day. Selina offers to help, but Bruce declines, saying, "How hard can it be?" (Spoiler alert: it's not supposed to be full of seeds)

Age 42: Kate shows him a video of Canadians pouring maple syrup into the snow to make candy, so he gets her to boil the syrup so they can do it together. The problem comes when they can't control the pour and end up with a glob the size of Damian

Age 43: As part of a school project, Bruce and Duke try to deduce the Coca-Cola secret formula. Duke's teacher takes a point off because at the beginning he told her he'd taste the results, but there's no way he's doing that now

Age 44: The family gets together to make a full English breakfast Alfred's birthday. Each person takes a part—Dick has eggs, Jason has the grilled tomatoes, Tim has mushrooms, Duke has the bacon, Steph and Cass are tag-teaming the sausages, Damian just has to open a can of beans, and Bruce needs to put bread in the toaster. It goes South immediately when Damian reaches for his katana instead of the can opener

Age 45: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

2K notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie using any open flame to light his cigarette

(a blurb that appeared in my head when I saw this picture)

Eddie smoked cigarettes almost all the time. When he was stressed, mad, or even relaxed. His lips craved to taste the paper as he held it between his lips. Plus, his girlfriend couldn't stop staring at him when he did it. He enjoyed how she'd drooled as he blew the smoke into the air.

So when his only lighter broke, he was pissed. Sure, he could easily go buy a new one, but Eddie made everything difficult.

~~~

Y/N wanted to make cookies, and Eddie didn't have a choice. He stood in grey sweatpants, his flannel unbuttoned with his chest bare underneath. Y/N tried to focus on the cookies in the oven, but Eddie's naked skin was too distracting. Eddie wasn't paying a single thought to the cookies, ranting about something he thought was stupid as he paced around their tiny kitchen.

All his words went out of her ears. She was almost hypnotized, it felt like. She couldn't focus on anything except for his skin.

Then the smoke alarm blasted, and she snapped back to reality. Eddie rolled his eyes at the interruption. She was quick to open the oven, the cookies burning as she pulled it out. Tiny flames rose from the pan, causing her to quickly throw the pan on top of the oven. She raced to grab water, filling a cup as she quickly turned.

"EDDIE!" she panicked, his face nearly in the flames when she turned back to him.

She quickly dumped the water on the pan, staring at Eddie with a puzzled look.

"What?" He shrugged, a cigarette now lit in his mouth.

"DID YOU USE THE FIRE TO LIGHT THAT?" she screamed.

"My lighter is broken!"

~~~

"Okay so three hot dogs, and four burgers," Y/N said, telling Eddie as she opened a new package of buns.

"On it, boss." He joked, adding the meat on the grill.

The couple decided to host a big dinner for the group. Hot dogs, burgers, and outdoor games. The group was playing soccer, as Y/N and Eddie prepared dinner.

Eddie hummed a song as he flipped the hot dogs and burgers. His eyes caught the flames and a familiar idea popped into his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

Y/N was grabbing chips from the kitchen when she walked back outside

"EDWARD!" She yelled, marching over to him. Once again, his head was near the flame as he lit the cigarette.

"My lighter is broken!"

~~~

The weather felt amazing, so Eddie and Y/N took a trip to the beach, bringing Dustin along. Dustin spent hours in the water as Y/N kept a close eye on him.

Eddie put together the fire and took out the ingredients he bought for s'mores.

"COME ON BUD! S'MORES TIME!" Eddie yelled, Dustin immediately ran out of the water. Taking the towel Y/N held out for him.

Y/N smiled as she watched Eddie help Dustin get the marshmallow ready to burn. It was like watching two children.

"I CAN DO IT!" Dustin yelled, which resulted in a smack in the head from Eddie.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she prepared the cracker and chocolate, sitting close as Dustin roasted his marshmallow. Once it caught fire, he took it out of the fire.

Before Y/N could smash the marshmallow between the crackers, Eddie was in the flame.

"EDWARD MUNSON!" She screamed. A cigarette hanging from his mouth as the end burned.

"MY LIGHT IS BROKE!N"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff x female reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites

591 notes · View notes

braxlrose · 1 year ago

Text

things i imagine 2005 bf bill does

• when/if he finds you sitting out in the rain he'll end up sitting down with you. it took some convincing because when he found you he was standing there, holding a regenshirm, shivering and was like "what the fuck are you doing out here 😮‍💨."

• it ended in you dragging him to the ground with you and playing in the rain. bonus points in you two ended up rolling in mud 💀

• memorizes your coffee order and always gets you a cup whenever he goes to get coffee or walks by a coffee shop

• plays with your hands when you two are cuddling and kisses your finger tips

• is always holding your hand. wherever you two are going, you guys are hand in hand. he loves the feeling of it and it just makes him really happy

• you two go on walks all the time whenever you guys aren't sleeping, rehearsing or doing school stuff and it's always so much fun. like always, you're holding hands, you guys get donuts and he buys you stuff whether you need it or not

• you two went skinny dipping together one night. you guys had been together for a couple months now and you were hanging out in your bedroom when you suggested you guys go "do something fun".

• he had no idea what you meant until you snuck our your window and brought him to the nearest lake and stripped. his eyes practically popped out in the sockets when you stepped into the lake and put your head underneath the water. you looked super sexy btw, all "you comin' in 🤭?"

• paints your nails for you and you paint his. he loves doing it with you because so many girls and guys make fun of him for doing it and he loves how much you don't judge him for anything

• i mentioned this in this story, but he ties your shoes for you whenever he notices they're untied.

• when his roots starts showing, he loves it when you help him redye his hair. and he also loves it if you have colored hair too that he can dye for you

• gets you sweet little things like charm bracelets that he made himself. like the ones with different colored string and then the little beads on them that are white with letters that you can spell stuff out with.

• makes you breakfast in bed when he isn't feeling lazy and wakes up before you

• smiles like a dumb idiot whenever you stand up to bullies for him. he interlocks his fingers with yours and rests his chin on your shoulder as you berate them, just holding in his laughter

• plays mermaids with you whenever you guys are at the pool hanging out

• buys you new clothes whenever he sees something you might like

• goes all out for valentines day. as we all know he's a hopeless romantic and believes in true love and all that shit so he LOVES spending valentines day with you.

• he buys you chocolate, flowers, romantic movies, writes you little notes and puts them in your locker throughout the day.

• if you two talk about having sex on valentines for the first time, he'll get you guys a hotel room and go all out with rose petals and shit.

• DO YOU GUYS KNOW THE SCENE IN 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU WHERE KAT IS SUPER MAD AT PATRICK AND HE SINGS "CANT TAKE MY EYES OFF OF YOU"? I SCRIPTED THIS HAPPENS AND YALL NEED TO DO IT AS WELL. if you don't know the scene, here it is.

• loves jaw kissing. doesn't matter if he's kissing your jaw or you're kissing his jaw, he loves it so much

• he loves it when you cook for him, especially if you're really good at cooking. same goes for baking

• plays footsie with you under the table during school hours

• bill likes PDA but he doesn't like stuff like shoving your tongues down eachothers throats at school. but he loves wrapping his arm over your shoulder, small kisses, hand holding, kissing your temples, etc.

• you and him have snowball fights im winter and it's always tons of fun. afterwards you both go inside and have some hot chocolate.

• he doesn't want you getting a cold during the winter so he practically forces you to wear gloves, a hat, jacket, scarves etc.

• but for some reason he only has to wear a jacket and he'll be perfectly fine 🤨

• kisses your hands and traces your tattoos

• combs your hair for you to make sure you don't have any knots your hair

• helps you out with homework and you do the same for him

• walks you to class with him hand in your back pocket and kisses you goodbye when he has to leave to go to his class. but he always gets super happy whenever he goes to a class that you're also in.

• invites you to parties with the rest of tokio hotel and ends up in some random room with you cuddling in your arms cause he gets all lovey dovey when he's drunk

• lights your cigarettes for you when you two are hanging out. he either lights it with a lighter or lights his cigarette first and then lights your with his cigarette. he usually does the second one because he thinks it's more cute and romantic

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7

a/n: let me know if you guys want more

516 notes · View notes

whorediaries-09 · 4 months ago

Note

ok so i had a thought, i want to write this but im not sure if its good, what if reader was like no. 1 ambassador of hookup culture and remus was an old-school hopeless romantic and these two would be like best friends and remus would like take her home while she's drunk and everything and one day they both just talk really flirtily while being tipsy and kiss on the road and fuck and start to date but then remus gets insecure abt whether reader thinks he's just a fling but then reader tell him i love you while being piss-drunk and vomits on his jacket right after and he just knows it was meant to be?

wolfstar variant you say?

burning flames or paradise;

pairing- remus lupin x reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort, substances. a/n- i left out the vomiting part cause it kind of gives me the icks. sorry!

little train.

'you didn't kiss me,' you say, pouting your lips. the taste of cherry wine lingers on your tongue. his amber eyes stare into yours, hot breathe craning your neck. amongst the drunk giggles of your friends and the party background, your ears stay perked solely for his words.

'you're too drunk,' he says, half bored, half bemused. it was no tell tale or word of mouth that you were flirty with literally everyone. the 'femme fatale'. the 'brand ambassador of hookup culture'. those were the nicknames that were notoriously famous for you during your school days.

but not once had you ever flirted with him. until tonight, when the cherry wine was high on your tongue, your words not in your control. he tried to reach out for the glass in your hands. you laughed, the sound contagious as always, pulling the glass away from his reach. he watches the liquid swirl before he stares into the glossiness of your eyes.

'won't you kiss me, lupin?' he shakes his head.

'why should i kiss you?'

you flatter your eyelashes, puckering your lips. as if asking for something. he's afraid he's way too sure about what you want.

and he might have just given it to you if you weren't so pissed drunk.

'because you don't actually want me to kiss you.'

you put the glass on the table. resting your back on the pillar behind you. he walks closer to you, so that he can hear you over the barring noise of the speaker.

'i think, lupin, its rather the other way around. its you who doesn't want to kiss me. you treat your mouth as if it's heaven's gate,'

'why should i kiss you anyways?' he asked. 'i don't remember us being in a relationship of that sort.'

you stick out your tongue, blowing a raspberry at him.

'at least take me home?'

the lights in your apartment are revolting and far too loud. the dopamine of last night still lingers. so does the ever present feeling of headache after a lot too many drinks. you rush through the drawers of your nightstand, searching for painkillers. otherwise you fear, you might just burst your head.

your eyes fall on a glass full of water, a coaster used as a lid to cover it. on top, there's a sachet of pills and a note with scribbled with a handwriting you recognize all too well.

you take the pills, sliding the note from between the wood and the glass.

'you fell asleep by the time i brought you home. take these pills. i know you'll need them.- love, lupin.'

the sunlight filtered through your curtains. a strange figment of fear crossed your heart, boiling it with trepid heat. you realized you'd fallen for your friend a few weeks ago-at least had a little crush on him.

you took the pills, chugging down the water. your drunk memories flashed in your head like a film. the faded memory of you asking him for a kiss popped in your mind. so did the one with him declining the offer.

did you mess up your friendship? god you hated yourself.

you crammed your face into the pillow, muffling your scream.

remus was surprised when he found you at your doorstep, wearing the scarf he'd knitted you on your birthday, flowers in your hand. and his favorite kind of chocolates.

'hi,'

'you should've said you were coming! i would've cleaned up...'

'come on you fold your socks, lupin. what are you on about?'

he smiled, an awkward curl of his lips. you leaned against the doorway. the smell of soup was distinct, stains on his apron visible. you noticed he wasn't wearing a t-shirt. just an apron. your eyes fell on scars on his shoulders, each telling a tale. some terrible, some horribly terrible.

'so you're just gonna stare at me or?'

fuck, you got distracted.

'you didn't ask me in,'

'you know you don't need to be asked in,' he said, moving as your footsteps faltered on his carpeted floor.

'what are you cooking?'

'sweet corn soup and some toast. didn't feel like making much,'

'lupin, that'll be my 5-star michelin cuisine if i had the energy to make that. now these, are for you,'

'for the record, you take your whiskey neat. and you take your coffee black at three. and what for?'

'you're drunk on life, and i think that's great. and these are as an...apology.'

he walked to the kitchen, turning off the stove.

'an apology...for what exactly?'

'oh, you know because i asked you to kiss me,'

'you asked me to kiss you. you didn't force me.' he says, sitting down beside you. there's a pregnant pause before you keep your hand on his thigh, letting your touch linger.

'it's okay,' he whispers. 'you were drunk.'

'i wasn't. i take my whiskey neat. a little bit of cherry wine does nothing to me.' he chuckles.

'you were piss drunk. you fell asleep on the way home! i had to call a cab midway.'

'accusations accusations,'

'are they?'

you stay silent. you let the charge in the air linger. you let embrace you, entangle you in its ruins. your eyes travel to his face. his dusty blonde hair tangled across his face. lips chapped, pale skin rosy with the bits of chilly air of autumn.

'why didn't you kiss me?'

'what?'

'i said, why didn't you kiss me?' your grip tightens around his thigh. 'i really like you, you know?'

'come on, don't be a bitter liar.'

'i'm not lying.'

he neared your face, hot breathe scanning your face.

'i would love to kiss you,' his hand cradles your cheek, finger on your lip, 'taste these beautiful, soft lips. but i'm afraid, i can't. i can't be a fling for you,'

'who says,' you whisper, nearing his face, touching your forehead with his. 'that you're a fling. i'm not lying. i really do like you. hell have you seen me hooking up with anyone recently? i do like you. just trust me, for once.'

'hopefully,' he says brushing his lips against yours, 'i can.'

'you can,' you confirm, thrusting your lips against him, your tongue loitering in his mouth, tasting him.

he really did treat his mouth like it was heaven's gate.

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

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin smut #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanart #werewolf

113 notes · View notes

annievrse · 1 year ago

Text

boyfriend!eren headcanons (summer edition)

—ᡣ𐭩 headcanons a/n: it is currently winter in aus, but i need summer eren rn in my room asap c/w: some suggestive but not that bad

boyfriend!eren walks around shirtless 24/7

boyfriend!eren gets so tan in the sun, he is golden!!

boyfriend!eren wears white swimming shorts, the reallyyyy short ones. lord. (he has 3 pairs of the same ones)

boyfriend!eren complains about sand in his hair nonstop (it’s his fault for laying on the sand instead of on a towel next to you!!!)

boyfriend!eren digs holes in the sand when he’s bored (e.g. waiting for you to finish your chapter/sunbathing/napping—he can’t nap on the sand, hence why he starts digging and building sand hills HASHDJAH)

boyfriend!eren volunteers to put sunscreen on you just so he can cop a feel (gets distracted and rubs the lotion into your back for literally 9 minutes)

when boyfriend!eren orders ice cream, he gets cookie dough or chocolate, sometimes the rainbow kids one

and when boyfriend!eren buys you ice cream, he will ask if he can taste yours and take the biggest bite :( in return, he lets you do the same to his <3

boyfriend!eren tucks a tshirt in the back of his shorts

boyfriend!eren wears birks 🫣 (hot)

boyfriend!eren will pull you underwater by your ankles if you aren’t careful, so keep an eye on him at all times when in the water with him

boyfriend!eren’s hair goes curly from the salt water and you have rinse it out for him in the beach showers otherwise it gets all tangled and frizzy

boyfriend!eren eats any melon like it’s his last meal, especially at the beach and on the boat. bring a container of it (or just an entire melon and a spoon) and he will go to town (the juice from the melon always drips from his chin onto his bare chest — just gonna leave you with that one)

boyfriend!eren is actually good at beach sports, so when you go with your friends, expect a game of beach football, with you on opposite teams because sasha and connie said it was unfair :/

boyfriend!eren in sunglasses >>>

boyfriend!eren drives jean’s boat (he won rock, paper, scissors at the start of summer)

boyfriend!eren DRIVES THE BOAT 😵‍💫

boyfriend!eren can wakeboard and wakesurf and looks hot doing it

boyfriend!eren wears a wide brimmed straw hat whenever on the boat because he’s cute ok

boyfriend!eren isn’t allowed to control the music on the boat or at the beach (group rules)

boyfriend!eren has to have you on his lap whenever he can’t be bothered to drive the boat anymore, and puts his hat on your head (you look so cute he could DIE)

boyfriend!eren fishes off the side of the boat with jean & armin, waits until he gets a bite, and then drags you in front of him to let you reel it in

boyfriend!eren has a photo of you holding the fish he you caught as his lock screen lmao

boyfriend!eren always throws the fish back though!!!!

boyfriend!eren buys you a pool float for the lake (it’s always something random like a watermelon (his obsession continues…), a flamingo, a champagne bottle etc etc)

boyfriend!eren inevitably pops said pool float when he backflips from the boat onto it :/

boyfriend!eren and jean want photos, they want paparazzi!!!!, when they do simultaneous backflips off the side of the boat and they always make the instagram

boyfriend!eren roasts marshmallows and tries to feed them to you but he burns them to a literal crisp so you roast your own (makes him pouty)

but boyfriend!eren gets over it when you feed marshmallows to him that aren’t burnt to a crisp <3

boyfriend!eren and connie (and sometimes jean if he’s drunk enough) will jump over the fire because they are shitheads (they only get one go each before everyone stops them)

boyfriend!eren gets all warm and cuddly when he’s drunk (after his usual unhinged activities with connie) so expect him to lay all over you when you’re around the fire

boyfriend!eren gets a sunburnt back and shoulders so you gotta sit on his bum and rub aloe vera everywhere while he whines about the pain

boyfriend!eren posts an end-of-summer dump and 6/10 photos are of you <3 (the rest consist of: his and jean’s backflip; a photo of him, mikasa, and armin around the campfire; him and connie clinking beer bottles; and him, armin, jean, and connie around a pool table: eren smiling wide with a single backwards rock and roll hand sign (he’s winning), armin with a smile and thumbs up, jean emotionless holding his pool cue (he’s losing), and connie with double middle fingers, his pool cue falling mid-air)

#guysssss i want one 😵‍💫#eren jaeger #eren jaeger imagine #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager imagines #eren jeager x reader #eren yaeger imagine #eren yaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #— ann writes!

571 notes · View notes

daisies-daydreams · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, I love your work and I wanted to request one. Were the reader is on a mission with 141+könig. And ghost gets jealous because könig likes her. But ghost wants her all to himself so he makes sure her scream his name. Where everyone can hear who she's belongs to. (Hopefully this makes sense and thank you for taking the time to read my request).❤️

I Wanna Be Yours (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader) Pt. 1

Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Swearing, Jealous!König, Jealous!/Possessive!Ghost, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex (You Know the Drill), Creampie, Implied Voyeurism Word Count: 3.9k+

A/N: Hello! 🤗 Thank you so much for your request! I've been thinking of writing more jealous!COD for a while. I apologize this took me longer than normal to write. Reader’s call sign is "Teddy".

Song Rec: I Wanna Be Yours (Arctic Monkeys)

Part 2 (18+)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Dusk hung over the small Norwegian safehouse, a blanket of snow resting over the crests of the valley. You, Ghost, Soap and a collaborative operator with 141, König, were lounging in the living area. The lieutenant's body ached, his muscles beaten and raw with bruises. Ghost grunted as he stretched out his sore limbs and cracked his neck. He smiled when he watched your jaw drop.

"Damn, Lt. Got a Rice Crispy stuck in there?" you teased. Ghost's shoulders raised with a silent laugh.

"You're quite the cheeky little thing, you know that?" he huffed as he pointed at you. You sighed.

"Only for you," you swooned while batting your lashes dramatically. Soap grinned knowingly while König observed you carefully. Ghost eyed the giant man. Though polite and often reserved, the lieutenant couldn't help but notice the Austrian’s eyes lingering on you from time to time. The thought made his skin crawl ever so slightly. You stood up and popped your back before walking into the small kitchenette area.

"I don't know about you all, but I'm in the mood for some hot chocolate. You boys want some?" you asked, your voice sweet and dripping with honey.

"Always," Soap said.

“Yes,” Ghost replied.

“Ja, danke,” König said with a nod. Ghost and König glanced at each other, then back at you. Soap rose from his chair, a grunt escaping from him as his hand gripped his ribs.

"Be right back. Need to see a man about a dog," he said. Your laugh reverberated across the walls as you flicked on the stove.

"Thanks for giving us that vital information," you chuckled.

"Anytime!" Soap called back. He eyed Ghost before making his way to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Ghost turned his attention back to you. König’s made use of his long legs and came to your side as soon as Ghost rose from his seat. The lieutenant heard a clear 'pop' when he clenched his jaw. You grinned as König grabbed the hot chocolate powder and handed it to you. His fingers slipped over yours carefully.

“Thank you,” you smiled. König nodded, scratching the back of his head.

“Of course, Katzchen,” he cooed. Ghost felt the sting hit him again, the venom seeping straight into his bones. He caught König glaring at him, the silence saying everything.

“Back off”

You hummed as you filled the kettle with water then placed it on the stove. Ghost sighed, his eyes never leaving König’s massive form as he made his way into the kitchen. He opened another cabinet.

“Looking for something, Lt.?” you asked. His eyes flicked over to you.

“I just like my hot chocolate with milk. Thought they'd have the powdered kind here," he replied before shutting the cabinet door with a shrug. You nodded. The water inside the kettle began to hum and bubble.

“I think it's better with milk, too,” you agreed. Ghost smiled beneath his mask. König stepped closer, looming over you.

“I enjoy it that way as well,” he added. He and Ghost locked eyes again, holding their stare as you were focused on trying to get the cups from the cabinet above you. Ghost stepped forward, cutting the other man off. His hand braced your upper back as he reached up, grabbing four cups. You blushed as he brought them down onto the counter.

“Thank you,” you said softly, averting his gaze. Ghost nodded, his rough hand still glued to your back.

“Welcome, Teddy,” he lilted, making sure to place a gentle emphasis on your call sign. He grinned beneath his mask as he looked up at the towering man. König seemed more tense, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He slowly slid his hand off of you, letting it trail down before slipping his palm off your hip. Their eyes never left each other as you continued to hum.

"It sure is a cold night," König commented. You nodded. Ghost raised a brow. "I'm glad you're helping us warm up a little, Katzchen," the man continued. Your smile faltered slightly, taken aback by his words.

"Oh, it's not big deal," you waved. Ghost felt all of his muscles tense as König leaned down to your ear, whispering loudly enough for him to hear.

"Would it be alright if I helped you warm up some more after this?" he muttered. The kettle began to steam and whistle, the noise piercing through the kitchen. Ghost's eyes widened, as did yours. Your mouth snapped open, face flushing deeply as you failed to form words. Ghost suddenly found his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to his chest.

"That's enough," he snarled. The door to the bathroom swung open. Soap stepped out and raising his brows when all three heads turned sharply towards him.

"Did I come at a bad time?" he asked half-jokingly. You closed your mouth before turning back to the kettle, setting it down on a mat. Ghost's hand slipped away from your shoulder as he eyed the towering man near him. König raised his chin up before slipping towards you.

“I apologize for my forwardness, Schatz," he murmured.

"Bullshit," Ghost hissed internally. Your shoulders tightened as you poured and mixed the drinks. Your lips remained sealed as he cleared his throat.

"I suppose the stress from today is getting to my head," he shrugged. Your eyes scanned him carefully as you set the spoon aside.

"It's alright, Kö. I think that mission did a number on all of us," you stated. He nodded, taking two of the cups into his large hands.

"Here, let me help,” he soothed. You smiled.

“You won't hear any complaints from me,” you shrugged. König purred before making his way to the table. You trotted behind him, leaving Ghost to follow you. Soap was already seated at the table, drumming on the nicked, wooden surface. His eyes brightened when you handed him a cup.

“Ah, somethin’ to distract me from these old, aching bones,” Soap hummed before blowing on his drink.

“You’re not that old,” you teased. Soap scoffed.

“What do you mean by 'that', hm?” he quipped. Both of you narrowed your eyes before snickering. Ghost raised his mask above his lips and lifted the rim of the cup to his mouth. He caught you eyeing him as he swallowed the drink slowly. All of you made small talk, though he kept his eye on König from time to time. Your drinks were slowly drained as the sun finally dipped past the horizon, a quiet darkness settling over the frigid valley.

“Did you guys take a shower yet?” you asked. Ghost hummed as he pulled his mask back down. König scratched his chin.

“I don't believe we have,” he sighed. Both of the men were unflinchingly resolved to remain in their chairs. You looked back and forth between them.

“Well don’t trip over each other,” you snorted. Ghost would’ve chuckled, but his heart felt like it was sinking into the hot pit of his stomach. König slightly shook the table with how furiously he was bouncing his leg. The silence was deafening, tension so thick one could cut it with a knife. Ghost cracked his neck again, his fists tightening on the table. König ceased bouncing his leg. The lieutenant felt a small burst of triumph when the other man slowly rose to his feet.

“I’ll be back,” the man murmured lowly, his hand brushing across your shoulder as he passed by. Ghost gripped his cup, nearly crushing it in his hand. Soap yawned, stopping himself before he stretched his arms above his head.

“Well, as fun as this evening's been, I think I’ll turn in for the night,” the Scotsman sighed. He said goodnight to both of you before walking down the hall. A heavy silence settled in the kitchen. You cleared your throat.

“I guess I’ll head to bed, too,” you said. Ghost nodded, helping you wash and dry the empty cups. He slid the last one back into the cabinet, closing it quickly. Your eyes were soft and cheeks dusted with pink as he looked down at you. He cocked his head to the side.

“You okay, kid?” Ghost asked. You parted your lips then closed them. His breath hitched as you came closer. You were silent, eyes averting his steady gaze. He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It’s alright. You can-“ he was cut off when you swiftly lifted his mask and smashed your lips onto his. He grunted, his hands falling to your hips as he leaned into the kiss. Your eyes popped open before you backed away, your hands pressing against his chest. Your entire face was beet red as you opened your mouth.

“Shit. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-“ It was his turn to cut you off, his mouth swallowing yours in a tender embrace. You moaned softly, letting him dip his head to deepen the kiss. Your mouths melted together, time stopping as you held each other close. You gasped for air when both of you pulled back. His chest rose and fell, heart threatening to burst. He cupped your cheek with his hand as he leaned to your ear.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, yeah?” he whispered.

You nodded wholeheartedly, taking Ghost's gloved hand. He chuckled as you led him into your bare room. You nearly jumped when Ghost quickly slammed and locked the door. His head was spinning, heart thrumming as he turned back to you. You stood nearby, shifting your thighs together as you looked up at him with blown pupils. His cock twitched as he watched you writhe with heated arousal. He exhaled through his nose as he stepped forward, cupping your chin beneath his hand. He stroked your soft face before closing his eyes and diving down.

Your lips interlaced as you hooked your arms around his thick neck. His dog tags jangled as he sighed. Ghost’s hands came down to your waist, his palms resting on your hips. You gasped when he licked small, warm strokes near your mouth. He felt you smile as you parted your lips. He groaned as he plunged his tongue into your sweet mouth, the taste of sweet chocolate still strong on both of your tongues. Your tongue danced with his as you backed up, taking him with you. Your back gently landed on the wall. It felt like an eternity before Ghost pulled away. The crisp air filled his lungs as he gazed at you half-lidded. You smiled up at him, your hands smoothing over his shoulders.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he muttered. Your eyes widened.

“Really?” you blinked. He nodded, his lips wet with a mixture of your saliva and his. You jumped up and captured his lips again. His cock strained in his pants as you practically devoured his lips. Ghost loved how large your pupils were as you looked up at him.

“Me too,” you confessed with a wide, coquettish grin. He swallowed a lump in his throat, not knowing how much longer he’d last.

“Teddy-(Y/N),” he faltered. You held your breath, your breasts pushed out before him. His words were at the cusp of his lips, just there. He sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck, I just...” Ghost finally snapped, pinning you to the wall. You gasped, your hands gripping his taut muscles as he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck, his hands trailing up and down your sides. You squealed when his thigh fell between your legs. Ghost grunted as you bucked your hips upward, moaning at the friction.

“I’m yours, Ghost. I wanna be yours,” you keened as his tongue lathed across your neck. Ghost bit over your pulse before pulling his leg back.

“Call me Simon,” he husked lowly. You nodded, brows knitted together as his hands slid beneath your shirt. He squeezed your plush tits, making you sigh.

“Simon,” you breathed. Goosebumps broke out across his skin when his name left your soft lips. Ghost hummed as he kneaded your breasts, his lips back to sucking dark spots across your pulse. You leaned into his touch, your thighs clenching together as he massaged your chest. He suddenly pulled away, his heart pounding in his ribcage.

“What’s wrong?” you frowned. Ghost licked his lips, his mind drowning in a thick pool of arousal. You squeaked as he grabbed your hips, squeezing them harshly.

"I just...fuck," he growled, his hips jutting forward. Ghost was never one who was renowned for verbally expressing his every whim. Your cheeks were nearly blood red as a guttural moan erupted from your throat. "I just can't hold back anymore, lovie," Ghost spoke, his lips dancing over your ear as he rutted into your clothed eat. You gasped and gripped his shoulders. "You don't have to if you don't want, but-" You leaned up and bit his bottom lip. He grunted as you rolled your hips into his hard length. His fingers dug into your waist as he met your pace.

"I wouldn't want anything more right now," you keened. He groaned as he grabbed your lips with his, his tongue back to exploring your sweet mouth. He felt your pulse race as he guided you towards the bed. You backed away, a glint in your eye as you rolled your shirt over your head. He drooled at the sight of your tits bouncing down. He snatched your wrists just as you grabbed the top of your pants.

"May I?" he asked. You bit your lip and nodded, gazing down at him with drunk, half-lidded eyes. He dipped his head down, capturing one of your breasts in between his puckering lips. You mewled as he took one of your nipples between his teeth. Ghost loved how you arched your back when his other hand came up to tweak your free nipple. He lapped at your areola, flicking it with his warm tongue.

Your hand came up, bracing the back of his head. He groaned as he tugged at your pants and panties. You wiggled your hips, helping him pull them down before stepping out of them. Ghost continued to suckle on your plump breast while you fell back onto the bed, carrying him with you. He smiled, his mouth coming off your tit with a wet 'pop'.

“You doin' okay, love?” Ghost asked. You licked your lips.

"Y-Yes," you sucked in a sharp breath as he didn't wait a millisecond before switching over to your other mound. You whined as you raised your hips, bucking them into nothing. He made a small noise before caressing his hand down your abdomen, landing just above your pussy.

"If you need me to stop, just tell me," Ghost said quickly. You nodded, raising your hips. He kissed your tit before dipping two of his fingers over your hole. The dark-eyed man looked back to you, waiting to see any signs of discomfort.

“Please, Simon,” you gasped.

Ghost began to press kisses and bites across the valley of your breast while he experimentally swirled his calloused thumb around your button. You cried and quickly covered your mouth when he drew slow, tight circles around your clit. He tilted his head up when he heard your muffled moans.

“Don’t hide from me, (Y/N),” he growled. You nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“Y-Yes sir,” you gasped out. He smirked at the military etiquette that slipped past your lips.

“Good girl,” Ghost hummed before placing a deep kiss over your clit. The moans and pants that fell from your mouth was the most beautiful solo Ghost had ever heard. He swirled his tongue around your nipple as he plunged his two digits into your soaked entrance. His cock throbbed painfully as he spread you open with a loud squelch. Your legs clamped down on his arm as his thumb drew small, tight circles around your button.

“Fuck, Simon,” you mewled as you pinched your hard nipples. He felt you shake as you locked eyes, his mouth suckling on your tit tenderly as he thrusted his fingers at a slow pace. Your sweet nectar dripped down his digits, coating the inside of his palm.

“Pussy already feels so good-fuck, can’t believe what I’ve been missing out on,” Ghost murmured as he curled his fingers upward. You whined, hands flying around his neck as you smashed your lips together in a sloppy kiss. Your hands clumsily found purchase at the base of his neck, gripping at the material of his balaclava. He did mind the sting of his hair being pulled one bit, savoring the sounds of your gushing pussy, the feeling of your walls clinging onto him for dear life.

“K-Keep going,” you hiccupped. Ghost groaned as he flicked and circled your clit more feverishly, his fingers pistoning into your cunt. Your brows furrowed as you fell back, your fists coming down to grip the sheets. Just as he felt your cunt tighten around his finger, he slipped it out. Your head snapped up, confusion and frustration laced in your features.

“Simon?” you asked. Ghost shuffled back, wiping his face of your arousal. You raised yourself to sit up on your forearms, watching him as he stripped. Your eyes looked like they were about to pop out of your head as his dick sprang free. He chuckled, pumping his cock in his white-knuckled fist as he climbed on top of you. He sighed, admiring the way your hair fanned across your face, highlighting your beauty.

“Can't wait to spread you open, love,” Ghost drawled as he spread your legs, admiring his wet handiwork. You bit your lip and wiggled beneath him.

“Please, fuck me. Use me,” you whined, drool dribbling past your lips. He grunted, hands rubbing your inner thighs.

“Don't worry: I will. But first, I need to ask a favor of you,” he whispered as he lined himself up to your aching hole. You sighed, waiting for his answer. Your hands flew up and grabbed his shoulders as he began to sheath himself inside, his tip kissing your entrance. You gasped as he gently grabbed your face, lowering his face so your eyes met perfectly. “I need you to scream my name when you cum on my cock,” he rumbled. You nodded, lips squishing before he let his hand travel down to rest near your shoulder.

"But, what about-" He pressed his thumbs to your lips. You looked at him through half-lidded eyes as he rubbed at your plush mouth. You opened it slightly, allowing him to press the pad of his digit on your tongue.

"Nevermind the boys-I just want to hear you," Ghost lilted. You nodded before he slipped his thumb back out, letting it fall onto your clit. Ghost smiled calmly as he pressed his forehead to yours. He was mesmerized by the way your jaw went slack as he breached past your entrance, your pussy squelching as he inched himself inside of you.

"So fuckin' tight," he growled. Your mouth was shaped into a perfect "O", a high-pitched moan erupting from your lungs and cascading through the room. He couldn’t help but groan at the way his head kissed your cervix as he bottomed out inside you.

“Oh God,” you cried, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. He allowed you to adjust for a moment.

“You hurtin’, sweet thing?” he murmured softly. You shook your head.

“N-No, feels so good-so full,” you sighed. He grinned, loving how you were falling apart beneath him.

“God, you're so perfect. Pussy wrapped around me so tight” Ghost grunted as he gave a few shallow thrusts. You moaned, thrashing your head with his miniscule movements that drowned you in a pool of bliss. He groaned before he slowly pulled out, the tense, warm hug of your cunt slipping away. His spine felt like jelly as he slowly sank back into your wet cavern. Ghost's free hand came to rest by the side of your head, his cock twitching inside your walls as he drove into your gushing heat. Despite wanting to pound you into the mattress, he wanted to take his time with you, to make sure you would be covered head to toe with a mind-numbing euphoria. You whined as he rubbed your slick bundle of nerve. Ghost huffed when your gummy pussy clamped down on his cock.

“So pretty, sweet thing,” he cooed, his languid thrusts growing more rapid as he pistoned his cock into you. You arched your back, your walls fluttering around him. Ghost could’ve sworn he heard heavy footsteps outside the door, but he didn’t care, too pussy drunk to even give it a passing thought.

“Simon,” his name fell from your lips like a mantra as your hole opened up for him. The headboard of the bed banged against the wall as he grabbed your legs in a tight grip. You wailed as he pounded into you, his girth stretching your hole wide open. Ghost’s pupils were blown as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, your arousal coating his veiny length and dripping onto the sheets.

“Come on, baby. Come on,” Ghost snarled as he slammed his dick into your cunt, the head of his cock grazing your g-spot with every eager thrust. Your moans began to grow into a grand crescendo. The knot inside of him was winding tighter and tighter.

"Cum for me-cum for your lieutenant," he growled with a hard snap of his hips. You squeezed his shoulders roughly as your eyelids flew open.

“SIMON!” you howled as you threw your head back, your pussy violently convulsing around his thick length. He watched in awe as you unraveled beneath him, your face etched with pleasure as you contracted over and over again. You silently shook as he rode you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he gritted his teeth as he felt your walls getting turned to mush. You gripped his muscles.

“Inside!” you cried. It was only a few more thrusts before Ghost’s body became rigid. You gasped as he filled you with his load, his hot, thick cum painting your swollen cervix. His orgasm cascaded over him like an all consuming fire, burning him to the core. Ghost gasped for air as he steadied himself. You looked just as fucked out as he was- eyes blown and face red with the afterglow. Your pussy squelched as he slowly pulled his cock from your slick walls. He pecked your lips.

"How you feelin', lovie?" Ghost asked. You blinked up at him tiredly, your legs stretching out comfortably.

"Good, so good," you breathed. He chuckled, gently pecking your nose, then cheeks, then lips again.

"Good. Did so well for me-takin' all of me like I knew you would," he praised. Your face flushed at his words. He looked around for his t-shirt. Ghost wiped the cum and arousal that spilled from your leaking hole, his other hand massaging circles into your leg. You sighed as your eyelids fell down. He cocked his head to the side, smiling warmly. Ghost went to stand up, but your hand fell onto his wrist.

“Stay, please,” you requested softly. His heart melted at your sleepy, gentle voice. His lips found purchase on your temple.

"Just gonna turn off the light. ‘M not going anywhere," he reassured. You nodded and gave a small grin. Ghost flipped the switch off before turning back around, finding you fast asleep. He chuckled quietly, crawling beneath the covers and pulling you into his chest. You nuzzled into his rugged, scarred body, sighing in your sleep. He kissed the top of your head before he closed his eyes. Ghost couldn't help but smirk, knowing how your loud moans and the sound of your wet sex rattled the walls.

There's no way König would be sleeping tonight.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

641 notes · View notes

blue-sadie · 1 year ago

Text

I Thought-

Alpha Neteyam x Omega Reader

Summary: neteyam doesn’t always know how to express his feelings and cuts people out when he's angry even his little omega

Warning: modern day au, omegaverse au, almost reader death

Yn/3rd person pov

My body tensed on the couch, my hands clutching the woolen blanket tightly as I heard the slamming of the front door, my nose crinkling at the small of his anger.

"For fuck sake" he yelled throwing his belongings onto the floor making clashes and clungs of his fallen items.

I sunk back into the plushy cushions as my eyes meet his angered ones "h-hi neteyam" I whispered loud enough for him to hear me he only growled in response before stomping his way to our bedroom and slammed the door again.

My ears flattened against my head as I heard him yell out his frustrations but an idea popped into my head and I got right to work, jumping up from my spot and racing into the kitchen and getting all the ingredients I needed.

I grabbed my apron and tied it tightly around my waist and washed my hands before getting to work chopping, preparing and cooking I was making his favorite dish his mom gave me the recipe for and once all of that was slowly cooking I got to work on the dessert.

I tempered and iced the chocolate cake and once that was done I wiped my forehead admiring all my work and I did the final step which was setting the table with some freshly cut flowers.

I quickly cleaned myself up before making my way to our bedroom and softly knocked on the door "what" he muttered from inside the room "I-I made dinner for you" I murmured opening the door my eyes drifting to the door where he lay just staring up at the ceiling.

"I'm not hungry" he said his eyes only finding my for a second before returning to the ceiling "but I made you favorite and while we're eating we can talk-" he interrupted me by giving me a glare "I am not hungry omega" he yelled out.

My lip quivered he never called me omega he said it was to demeaning and hurtful I nodded quietly and closed the door again and made my way into the dining and ate by myself.

I couldn't eat much though my omega was stressing over him I couldn't even look at the cake the thought of it just made me nauseous, I quickly finished my food and wrapped the rest up and left it in the fridge for him to eat and I left the cake on the counter covered so no ants could get to it.

I walked to the bedroom and stood by the door at least for 30 seconds debating if I wanted to sleep in there or not my mood only worsened with each passing second was it me who caused him to be like this was he angry at me.

I shook my head trying to block out the negative thoughts as I made my way to the guest room slumping down onto the bed but I just couldn't fall asleep my omega was crying for attention but I knew I wouldn't be getting any anytime soon.

I twisted and turned but couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard I tried my eyes were starting to become sore and my muscles started to arch I just slowly got up and made my way into the guest bathroom and filled up the tube.

"Maybe this is help" I slowly pulled off my clothes before hissing as I settled into the steaming hot water the water slowly relaxing my muscles, I tried relaxing more by closing my eyes but I couldn't get him out my mind.

I looked to the side where I saw a bottle of medication I quickly leaned over curiously and grabbed it and read the name it was addressed to my mother 'she must have left it here by accident'.

I looked at the label and it was sleeping pills I thought for a minute before uncapping the bottle and taking to out "maybe the will help" I murmured and put the rest of the bottle back onto the counter before swallowing the pills.

I sat around waiting for them to start working just getting a little more comfortable in the bath, my eye lids slowly started becoming more heavier and my breath more slower as the pills started to take effect.

My body slowly started to sink into the water but I was to tired to do anything and my mind was to distracted to the hear the slight padding of footsteps drawing nearer.

Neteyam couldn't sleep either he could never sleep without you so here he was looking into the guest bedroom where he thought you were and when you weren't there his eye brows frowned.

He looked back down the hallway his eyes only softening once he saw the sliver of light coming from the bathroom he walked over and softly knocked like you did before "baby" he called.

But he was only met with silence "yn im really sorry" but when he didn't get an answer this time an unsettling feeling started to fill his heart "baby if you don't answer I'm coming in" he threatened worryingly knocking a bit louder.

He quickly opened the door when he didn't get a response his eyes widening and his heart breaking as he runs and scoops her out of the water "baby" he screamed laying her onto the ground and started listening for her heartbeat.

He sighed in relief ae he heard it but quickly started cpr as it was fading "fuck" he cried as tears started welling up in his eyes "he quickly got his phone and dialed 911 "911 what's your emergency" the lady spoke.

"Hi my girlfriend was found in the bath she's not breathing and she has a heartbeat but it's fading" he rushed breathing heavily as he continued cpr "ok hold on I'm sending someone now" she tried calming neteyam down but he was to frantic.

He quickly wrapped you in a towl and picked you up as he heard the nearing sirens and rushed outside "please help her" he screamed the medics quickly rushed you inside and neteyam followed and held your hand tightly as they rushed to the hospital "please be ok".

-Time skip-

Lo'aks nose crinkled as he entered the room "dude you need to shower" he chuckled but shut up as neteyam glared at him "I am not going anywhere" he growled repeating the same words that he said to everyone else.

He never left your side once he just sat there clutching your hand tightly waiting for you to wake up "so did the doctor say anything" lo'ak asked as he stood at the foot of your bed.

Neteyam sighed heavily "he said whatever she took knocked her out and her omega is the reason she's still asleep" he said tiredly "what does he mean by that" "it means I fucked up ok" neteyam snapped.

Neteyam started to cry again "I fucked up I shut her out and I think her omega may have taken it to seriously and now she's like this because of me" lo'ak watched his eyes filled with sorrow for his brother.

"She almost died because of me" he sniffled staring at your face praying to see your eyes open "I'm the reason she's here" he whispered and softly kissed your hand.

"I love you omega please forgive me"

Tag.List

@grilledcheese23

@greekgods15

@sweetirilly

#avatar #avatar pandora #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar angst #avatar x reader angst #avatar omegaverse #neteyam #neteyam angst #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader angst #alpha neteyam #alpha neteyam x reader #alpha neteyam x omega reader #alpha neteyam x omega reader angst

502 notes · View notes