#EVERY TIME I THOUGHT I WAS DONE I REMEMBERED SOMETHING ELSE
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Memories of Days Gone By - Spencer Reid
Summary: Spencer has never understood having a cluttered desk at work. Then you start at the BAU, and he's forced to share a desk with the least desk-tidy person in the whole FBI.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: none, except talk of reader getting shot
a/n: woah, outerspacebisexual actually writing instead of just reblogging post about writing? crazy
Masterlist
Spencer always thought that having personal mementos in the workplace was weird.
Maybe it came from his mother, whose desk was always so cluttered she could barely place anything down without something else falling off. He could—as with everything else—vividly remember sitting in her office chair, spinning in around and around in circles, watching his framed toothy six-year-old-self flying past him again and again and again.
She never swapped out that photo, even when he got older and his round, chubby face became angular with his teen years. Not when he graduated high school, or college, or college again. In fact, he knew for certain that photo still sat on his mother’s bedside table. So you’re always here with me, she’d said on one of her good days. And even though most of the time she had no idea who the tiny child with thick frames was, she still traced a finger down the side of the glass before bed.
When Spencer first joined the BAU, he’d made a point to ensure his desk was cleared every hour. Empty coffee cups, old files, shredding, sticky notes; after one hour, it all went. That way he could ensure that everything got done.
And that same habit continued for years, until you showed up.
Hi, you’d said on your first day, sticking out your hand and smiling wide. Looks like we’re desk buddies.
He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The desk had belonged to Emily before you got there, and the idea of looking up and seeing you was just another reminder that he’d lost her.
He was nice to you, of course. You hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d simply taken a job opening from the ballistics unit to the BAU. It wasn’t your fault that his dead friend’s desk was now yours.
At first, he noticed how you had a habit of leaving empty coffee cups on your desk, choosing to get another one rather than reuse the one already on your desk. It wasn’t a problem. There were plenty of mugs in the kitchen. But when your chair hit your desk, they chimed together, and the noise set him on edge.
He left it alone for the first month.
But then came the files.
Files piled up on your desk---not in neat piles marked ‘Complete’ and ‘Incomplete’ like his—just spread out across the surface in every direction and orientation. And as the week went on, more and more were added until there was no discernible way to tell which had been done and which hadn’t. This led to you having to leaf through folder after folder until you found the one you were looking every day.
Spencer had been tempted to say something one week when he’d watched you out of the corner of his eye search for a file for fifteen minutes. You’d found it right as he opened his mouth, spinning in your chair and heading straight for Garcia’s office. Spencer had sat and stared at the mountain of manila folders then entire time you were gone, thinking to himself, How could you put up with this?
How could you deal with having to fight with your desk at every second of the day just to find something? The idea of it made him want to throw up. Not that his apartment was any better, he knew that. But there was a difference between work and home. Home was allowed to be messy and cluttered, full of the rest of your life outside of work. Work was work. It depended on being able to obtain information quickly and efficiently—not after ten minutes of rooting around.
Hey, Reid? you’d asked one afternoon. Have you seen that Milwaukee case file?
Which one?
The consult one? With the three missing girls?
He tried his best not to roll his eyes. I think you put it down on the edge of your desk.
You spun and rifled through the stack, grinning when you held it up. You’re a genius, you know that?
Pursing his lips, he said, Believe it or not, I do.
Spencer might’ve been bad at reading social clues, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you were just trying to be nice and start a conversation, but he reached over and lifted the phone to his ear, pretending not to notice the way your face fell. You quietly turned back to your computer and opened the file.
A week later, you tried again. Reid, do you want coffee?
No, he answered quickly, despite blinking back the sting of a 3:00am emergency case. ‘Urgent’ was all the text from Hotch had said, and now he was sitting behind his desk once again, for the fifty-second hour this week. Hotch was never wrong. There had never been a case that Hotch had chosen where the team hadn’t been needed, not in all the years Spencer had worked for the BAU. But he couldn’t deny that there were times that he wished he wasn’t at work.
You sure? I know we got more sugar, if that’s what you’re worried about.
I’m fine, he snapped, harsher than he’d intended. Thankfully, you left it alone.
+
Then, you were all in Atlanta, consulting on a case of three male bodies and another man missing. By the morning, his head had cleared, and he noticed the space you’d put between the two of you when you both arrived at the ME’s office.
Doctor Glenn, thanks for meeting with us, you started.
Doctor Glenn had smile brightly at you, standing from behind his desk to shake your hand. Spencer waved. Of course. And please, Scott is fine.
You sent him a soft smile. Where are we with the latest autopsy?
Well, from what I can tell, the murder weapon was some sort of short-bladed knife. What kind, I can’t say for certain. The advanced decomposition on all three makes it tricky.
Something like a kitchen knife? Or pocketknife?
Scott nodded. It’s possible. Like I said, I can’t be sure at this stage.
Can I see the photos? Spencer asked.
Absolutely, Scott replied. I was going to give you the file anyway. He opened the closest folder to him, but frowned. Oh, this isn’t right. Sorry, it’s here somewhere.
Noting his reddening cheeks the longer he searched, you said, Your desk looks a lot like mine.
If Scott noticed you attempt to put him at ease, he didn’t make it known. Brows pinched tightly together, he queried, The BAU doesn’t have strict guidelines on that kind of thing?
You shrugged. Maybe, it does. Though, I’m sure I’d have been written up by now if it did. You leaned forward in your chair to glance at the photo frames on the side. Spencer could see them clearly from where he sat. Two dozen frames littered the side of his desk, all displaying four boys---from baby photos to teenagers. Are they your boys?
Scott, visibly grateful to have a distraction while he continued rustling through drawers, didn’t look up. Yes, the four of them. James, Patrick, John, and Liam.
Spencer watched in silence the conversation the two of you had.
How old?
James is almost 21, Patrick, 19, and John and Liam are both 16.
Twins?
Indeed.
Must have been a handful when they were younger, I’m sure.
He smiled gently. You don’t know the half of it. John’s decided to head to college in California and Liam’s heading to New York.
It must be nice to have them close, at least for the time being, you replied.
It is. I don’t quite know what I’ll do once they’re gone, if I’m honest. And I worry. Like every parent does, I suppose.
Well, if they’re half as kind as all these photos make them out to be, then I’m sure they’ll be just fine.
That’s kind of you to say. I’m not blind, either. I know it’s a lot.
You laughed. It’s not, I promise. It’s nice to have something to remind you of the good. Especially with jobs like yours and mine. Reminds you of what you’re working for. Who you’re working for. There’s so much darkness out there, if we don’t remind ourselves, we can get lost in it.
Scott produced a file from the bottom drawer, and Spencer just stared at you, even as you took the file and flipped through it.
+
A month later, Spencer found himself hunched over his desk, computer brightness on low as he tried his best to block out the noise emanating from every corner of the bull pen. With the migraine he was sporting, he was sure he could hear all the way to reception, which did nothing to help his pounding head. He clicked random buttons on his computer as his eyes watched each minute tick by.
Four hours. That was all he had left. Then he could leave and collapse down onto his couch and sleep for two days until it was gone. With each passing minute, his brain fog got worse, until he was reading the same sentence for the fifth time in a row without comprehending what it was saying. Who even sends an email at 1:04pm on a Friday?
Aaron Hotchner, according to the contact name at the top. He needed to reply. Hotch would be expecting an answer.
Spencer hadn’t even realised you’d been speaking until you waved a hand in the air over the partition between your desks.
What? he asked, when you just stared blankly at him.
I asked if you were OK?
He sat up straighter, doing his best to ignore the pain that stabbed through him. I’m fine.
You cocked an eyebrow. Are you sure? You don’t look great.
I said I’m fine.
You were silent for a long moment, and you refused to break eye contact with him. That was until you leaned over and reefed open a drawer.
What are you doing?
You continued to dig through it. I have some pain meds in here. Nothing fancy, but you look like you could use some ibuprofen.
I don’t need it.
And I don’t need to sit here and watch you suffer for the rest of the day, Reid. Seriously. It’s painfully obvious.
Spencer didn’t have it in him to reply. Any other day, and he might’ve snapped at you. But today, he would take your kindness. As he came around to your side, he peeked inside your drawer, noting it was the same as the top of your desk. Cluttered and messy.
He stared at the mountain of files, eyes roaming over your desk. Your nameplate. Your empty coffee cups. Your photos. He paused as he took them in—for the first time since you’d been here.
Many different photos were tacked onto the partition. Most were of a cat and a dog and a few people who he assumed were family and friends from outside of work.
Only one was framed—a photo of the team. He could remember the day. You’d only been at the BAU for a month and upon returning from a hard case, Garcia had surprised you with a cake and balloons in the conference room. You’d cried, he remembered. Which he’d thought was weird, but hadn’t taken much note of at the time. Anderson had snapped a photo at Garcia’s insistence.
Suddenly, a sleeve of ibuprofen was thrust into his chest. Here.
Thank you, he mumbled.
You don’t need to thank me, Reid. Just take it, and maybe seen Hotch about leaving early. That can be your thanks. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, which he returned before heading to the breakroom.
+
Six months after you started at the BAU, you got shot.
Not life-threatening, but a bullet to the shoulder meant you were laid up on leave for two weeks.
The bullpen had never been so quiet, Spencer thought. Though maybe it was his guilt that made him think that. It had racked him every day of the two weeks since they’d gotten back from Wichita. The bullet had been meant for him, and if he’d actually been paying attention to his surroundings, then he wouldn’t have missed the UnSub lining up the shot, and you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way, taking the hit for him.
Your screams still echoed in his mind. The first, his name: Spencer! Get down! And the second, your yelp of pain. Spencer had fired off two shots in quick succession, taking out the UnSub with barely more than a thought before he was turning to you lying flat on your back and gripping your shoulder.
He’d accompanied you to the hospital, where they said long-term damage was unlikely, but you would have a long road to recovery until you had full use of your arm again.
Hotch had immediately put you on leave, threatening that he’d make you take even longer if he saw you in the office at all before the two weeks was up. You had kept your word to him that you’d take the full two weeks.
Spencer hadn’t been sure what to do about your desk for the first few days. Hotch had instructed him to take over your files, which was easier said than done.
Heaving your last folder into his ‘Complete’ tray, he breathed a sigh of relief. Glancing at the clock, he realised he’d been zoned out writing reports for four hours. The rest of the team had all gone—aside from Hotch, but when wasn’t he in his office.
Starting over the partition, Spencer eyed the mess that still cluttered your desk. He hadn’t wanted to touch anything except the files, which he’d gingerly sorted into what was done and what wasn’t, careful not to disturb anything else on the desk.
Now, staring at all you’d left behind when they’d suddenly been forced to jet off, he wondered if tidying it was the least he could do. Maybe you would thank him for it. Or maybe you’d tear his head off for touching your stuff.
He decided to take that risk.
Collecting the loose papers and random Post-its, he placed them neatly into piles to the right of your computer. Most where mindless reminders for yourself—Get the dry cleaning! and Pay the water bill by tonight!
Spencer wasn’t always grateful for his eidetic memory, but not having to remember small day-to-day tasks was a huge bonus for him. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to cope without it.
He straightened the tacked photographs and wiped down the team photo. He made sure your computer was properly plugged in. He ensured your tablet was fully charged for your return. He was almost satisfied, when he noticed one green Post-it note had fallen behind your monitor screen. Weaving his hands between the cords, he pulled it out.
Thanks for the ibuprofen. I really appreciate it.
Below his barely legible script, sat a small face he’d doodled. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought anything of it since he stuck it to your monitor.
But you still had it, even two months later.
He stuck it back where he’d put it the first time.
+
You’re back, Spencer said as he entered the bullpen the next morning.
I am, you replied, grinning wide. Do I have you to thank for this?
Placing his bag down on his seat, he said, I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Oh, come on. There’s only one other office neat freak in this whole place, and I know for a fact it wasn’t Hotch. When he said nothing, you rolled your eyes. Fine. Guess I’ll have to pass my thanks on to the boss man.
Spencer smiled as he unloaded his bag.
Cat got your tongue or something, Reid? He kept his lips sealed perfectly shut. Ok, then. Keep your secrets. I don’t need to know them. I don’t want to know them anyway.
I’m getting a coffee, he said suddenly, cutting off your teasing drawl. Do you want one?
You blinked. What?
I said, I’m getting a coffee. Would you also like one?
Uh, yeah. That would be great, you managed after a moment. Thanks.
He nodded, and he pretended he didn’t feel your eyes watching him the whole time as he made his way to the break room.
+
“Reid?” Morgan called, and Spencer looked up from the file he was currently nose-deep in. “Are you coming?”
“What’s happening?” he asked, furrowing his brows.
Morgan groaned. “Don’t tell me you forgot about dinner at Rossi’s tonight.”
“Oh, that’s tonight?”
“Yes, pretty boy. How could you forget?”
“I didn’t forget,” he mumbled, gathering his belongings as Morgan made his way over to him.
“From the looks of it, you absolutely did.”
“I didn’t. I just…have a lot on my mind.”
Morgan stopped at the side of Spencer’s desk, his signature smirk adorning his face. Spencer didn’t even look at him as he hastily jammed files into his bag.
“This is new,” Morgan commented, and he glanced over to see him staring at a framed photo he’d picked up.
When he flipped it around, Spencer could see it. The photo of him in his apartment, sitting on the couch, grinning ear to ear, and you sat right beside him, holding your left hand up to display the shiny ring adorning your finger. You’re looking directly at the camera. Spencer is only looking at you.
Spencer took the photo from him. “I liked it, so I got it printed.”
He didn’t have to tell him that he got every photo printed now. He’d never been a fan of technology, and the idea that all his best memories were being held ransom on a device that could be destroyed any minute made his head spin. So, he got every photo printed. Most were safely tucked away in albums on his bookshelf at his apartment.
But this one was special.
Morgan’s voice was gentle as he said, “It’s nice.”
Spencer smiled and brushed a finger over the glass. “Reminds me of the good,” he said.
Then he placed it back down on his desk, the frame right at home amongst all the others.
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Hello, since you're taking prompts, I'm here humbly requesting anything with autistic Steve because I adore him and he's relatable af. Steddie, heavy on the comfort? Other than that, whatever you like, I'll love it :)
Wooo!! I wrote this in like three hours because I was on a roll, so I'm excited to share this!
Rating: Teen and UpCW: Meltdown, Overstimulation (Not That Kind), Some Negative Stimming, Mild Internalized AbleismTags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Established Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Cuddling & Snuggling, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Soft Steve Harrington, Soft Eddie Munson
Also on AO3
💕—————💕
His t-shirt was too tight. Had it shrunk in the wash, he initially asked himself. Is this not even mine? But when he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, reflected back at him was the same burgundy colored t-shirt, softly worn and sweat stained, a big graphic stretched across the chest that read: ‘Go Bulls, Go!’. Where this thing came from, he doesn’t remember, but it’s kept him comforted and grounded throughout the years.
Steve had a particular wardrobe. Maybe a bit peculiar to the normal, wandering eye. But to him, his clothes made perfect sense. Every pair of jeans was just a size bigger than he needed them, to give him the extra give. All of his white boxer briefs were made of cotton, because the silky type were always too constricting. His socks had holes and patches on them—worn over and over and over again, folded inside out so that the seams didn’t catch under his toes, but they were the perfect level of softness that he couldn’t find anywhere else. Polos made of cotton. Henleys the same. And his t-shirts, well they were soft, too.
In fact, Steve loves soft things. Loves loose things. Loves expected things.
But now his t-shirt is too tight. The t-shirt he thought of all of the last three days. A t-shirt he thought would look good with his light washed Levi’s—always worn on Thursdays for his day of errands. And looking at the little desktop calendar in his room, it is indeed Thursday. He planned this, but he neither planned nor considered the possibility of a clothing malfunction. His hands go to stretch the hem of the shirt, pluck it away from his body and make the fabric accommodate him. However, at the first tug, the loosely bound hem gives an unmistakable Riiiippp sound.
And…
Great, he thinks, I’ve just ruined one of my favorite shirts.
The t-shirt’s too tight, now ripped, and about to be retired. If only he could find something that works the exact same. Every t-shirt he tries on has some sort of error: too big, too ugly, clashing colors, won’t match the Adidas he picked out last night, stretched on the collar, so on and so forth. It’s Thursday, he thinks, it’s a busy day. Errand day. And now I have nothing to wear. Well, he has something. Not exactly what he planned. But if he doesn’t just put on a damn shirt, he’ll never get through his day, and if he misses out on the free time to take charge of the few errant errands—Steve’ll never get them done or he’ll get them done on a different day, a day where it’s noticeably not Thursday.
He snatches a yellow polo from the back of his closet. Dijon mustard colored. Too scratchy over the downy hairs on his belly. But he doesn’t have the time. Doesn’t have the time to redo his hair—three puffs of hairspray and he’d have to do a fourth, but four doesn’t fit, it’s not right, it’s too different. So he just settles. He’s got a schedule today, and damn the world for already trying to stop him.
Next on his agenda is breakfast.
Which, now that his head is shoved dutifully in the fridge and he’s rummaging around like a dumpster diving raccoon, he remembers that he has to go grocery shopping. Down to three large eggs, a couple bacon strips that didn’t crunch right the last time he ate them, and some cream cheese for bagels he can’t reason eating anymore. But he makes do. Again, settling—always settling, it seems. Because today just can’t go right.
Half-way through the eggs, his brain reminds him that he’s eating eggs. The texture going from wonderfully scrambled, not too soft and not too dry—to awfully rubbery and terribly bland and disgustingly charred. His bacon didn’t crisp right, so he won’t even attempt the few nibbles that lay out on his plate. And the bagel is just…staring up at him like the thousand eyes on every spider of his nightmares. Just the mere thought of cream cheese on his tongue has him wanting to hurl. So he tosses the rest, sets his plate in the sink, and wonders if he’ll even have the time to do the dishes—they aren’t piling by any means, but he didn’t plan this. He wanted cereal this morning. Had thought about the near glass like shards of Cap’n Crunch against the roof of his mouth, drenched in whole fat milk. But, again—You’re an idiot, he’s starting to chastise—he forgot that he needed to do a grocery run today.
Now that his stomach isn’t full and is left completely unsettled. Now that his shirt is scratching him and rough in all the wrong places. Now that more wrongs have been done to him than rights, he can woefully cart himself to the supermarket.
Only to get there and not find a spot. Well, one in the back of the parking lot is barely a spot. The one he hates parking in because he always has to walk two minutes longer than he needs to and sometimes the gravel from the nearby bushes is kicked up and then he steps on it and there’ll be a rock in the sole of his shoe. Like there is today because of course, of all days, there are little jagged gravel rocks for him to step on and feel through the soft, giving out soles of his sneakers. Of course, he thinks—riding over mildly irritated to extremely annoyed within seconds.
The grocery store is hell on earth, if it exists. Lights fluorescent and produce aisle sprinklers going haywire and the coffee grounds too fresh and the chatter of people incessant. Annoying.
He brought a paper slip with him. His chicken scratch identifiable to him. Reading:
Grocery List
Milk
White Bread (Wonder, not Kroger)
Peanut Butter (Jiff, not Skippy)
Laundry Detergent - unscented
Cat food (salmon this time, maybe that’ll lure in that stray?)
Pasta (Thin spaghetti, penne, and farfalle)
Parmesan (Preferably not in the jar, but whatever is cheapest)
Potatoes
Pop-Tarts? (Eddie’s favorite is brown sugar)
Chicken
Chicken nuggets
The cart he grabs has a wheel that squeaks the entire time he pushes it. Wonder bread is sold out by the time he gets to the right aisle. They really should say something when they change the layout of the store, he notes bitterly, stuffing a couple loafs of Kroger white bread into his cart. Skippy was the chosen option of the creamy peanut butters, simply because the Jiff wasn’t on sale anymore. On the bright side, salmon wet cat food wasn’t too expensive, even if he could only grab three cans. The Pop-Tarts are forgotten by the time he makes it back to his car. And the first paper bag has a handle that rips off almost immediately. And he forgot to unload the quite substantial amount of baseball supplies he brought to the park the other day—which means the bags are loaded into the backseat and he can only hope and pray that the milk doesn’t topple over and squish the bread or god forbid the laundry detergent somehow gets jostled the wrong way and spills all over his car.
He should’ve made another list of things he needs to remember he’d done. Would’ve been nice, he supposes, if he told his future self that the baseball equipment is still in his trunk. But, alas, here he is playing the same Tears for Fears tape again, listening to the baseballs clink off of each other. Thank god for the Tears for Fears tape, though—it’s the same one he’s listened to nearly every day since he bought it in 1983. At least that’s something to expect. At least it’s something he can rely on after the absolute shitshow he’s had today.
Though, maybe he should’ve expected having to pull over to the shoulder. In a car that chokes and gives up when he’s two-thirds back, half-way through his errands list, and completely done with everything. His hands are tight on the steering wheel. And there’s nothing but silence flowing around him. It’s like drowning, sitting here like this. For once, after everything he’s ever experienced and having so many bad days like this, he doesn’t know what to do.
A part of him, the overwhelmingly obvious part, wants to scream and cry and kick his legs out in front of him. Wants to dig the heels of his feet into the pure asphalt underneath the rubber tires of his stupid, unreliable car. Maybe tear the shirt right off his body and squish himself back to normal. But in the open, bright pool of sunlight, he can do nothing but just sit there. Head against the steering wheel, wet breaths through his nose, and a tightness in his throat that won’t rid even after his fifth swallow. Part of him wants to cry and cry and cry and never stop crying. And it sounds good. Not here, though. Not yet.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there before something knocks on his window. So, he rolls his head over to peer—not at all that gently, with enough force to drive a hard line into his skin. But when he catches sight of the person watching him nearly fall apart, he wants to cry impossibly more.
It’s Eddie. With his big, soft, concerned eyes. Hair tied up into a bun. Coveralls over his body, splattered with oil and other unidentifiable muck. Probably coming back from an early morning shift at the auto shop in town. He can help, maybe. So, Steve cranks down his window. Enough that Eddie can dangle his arms inside and crouch down to get a better looks.
“Stevie,” he softly greets. “You doin’ okay?”
Steve just shrugs. Makes some sort of noncommittal grunt. He works his jaw tight and tense. Mumbles, “Car broke down.”
Eddie hums, acknowledging. He looks over his shoulder briefly, leans to peer into the backseat, and then looks onto Steve again. “I can take a look, if you want, sweetheart.”
“Don’t have enough money to get it fixed right now.”
“Baby,” Eddie sighs. His eyes go half-lidded with aching. He reaches out a tentative hand and gently traces his fingers over Steve’s left shoulder. Inching his way to his neck, where knots are surely forming. “It’s free of charge for you, you know that.”
“I just don’t care about it right now,” Steve lies. He cares a great deal. Cares that this has ruined his day. Has ruined the rest of his plans, but if he admits that, he’s sure he’ll cry. He’s not sure why that’s his first reaction: to cry and break things and flap his hands as if ridding the energy. Not sure why it hurts to look Eddie in the eyes right now. Why everything that’s happened has affected him so negatively. Why he’s so particular about his things to do and how he dresses and what he eats. But he knows he’ll cry if he explains.
“Okay,” Eddie mutters. His fingers are soothing over Steve’s shoulder. Light and airy and so soft, it makes Steve want to melt. “How about I drive you back? Help you unpack your groceries? We can leave this baby right here for now and figure out how to get it back to you later, alright?”
Wordlessly, Steve nods, hauls himself out of the driver’s seat, and helps Eddie unpack the bags into the back of his van. That part of him that wants to destroy flares alive inside of him. And he has to restrain himself from chucking the milk carton against the side of the van. But he gets into the passenger seat, silent and seething and mildly overwhelmed.
He gets angrier, though, as soon as Eddie’s radio blares to life. Heavy, obnoxiously loud drums and guitars and vocals fill the space. Instinctively, Steve’s hands shoot to his ears, covering them completely with his palms, digging his fingernails into the skin around them. Garbled, he makes a noise of great discomfort. Grits his teeth together. Squeezes his eyes shut until little speckles of black float in the corners. And hunches into himself, compact and an easy trick to consolidate himself. It doesn’t work, though. Nothing is working in his favor.
“Turn it off, Eddie,” he distantly hears himself snap, “turn it off!”
All at once, the music stops.
Steve sighs, not quite relieved, but easier. It’s still bright. And Eddie’s van smells a little bit like marijuana. And maybe Steve hasn’t smoked that in a little while because the scent is too intense and he never knows how to explain why the smell alone makes him want to scream, but it does and he knows part of that isn’t normal but he doesn’t know how to be normal and now he’s blown his cover all because of something petulant like music being too loud and now Eddie won’t want to date him because he’s being irritable and annoying and—
“Sweetheart?” Eddie’s distant, raspy, soft voice calls. “Is it a migraine? Do you need some water?”
“No,” Steve answers tersely. “Just take me home, Eddie.” He can’t loosen himself from the tight hold, from the squeeze of his eyelids, from the tension in his fingers. But he’s probably making an ass of himself. Probably pissing Eddie off. “Please,” he tacks on, “please take me home, Eddie.”
Nothing else is said as the van rattles and grumbles, pulling away from where Eddie had been parked. There’s no words. No music. Eddie doesn’t fidget. Steve doesn’t think either of them breathe, really. And not only has he pissed Eddie off, but he’s starting to make himself angry. Why couldn’t I just be normal, Steve internally bemoans. I’m being annoying. And he shouldn’t be helping me. And I should’ve just called a tow truck. And I’m making a big deal out of nothing, just like Mom and Dad used to say.
And if he were in a different mindset, he could probably think about why that statement used to feel so miserable. When his parents would dismiss him. Send him to his room. Where he’d sob into his pillows and toss his books across the room and hide inside his closet because it’s the only place that truly felt safe. The closet, where the world couldn’t reach him, and the lights were all dark and he could hum as much as he wanted. Because nobody could find him. And nobody cared. And then he was warm, safe, the version of himself he felt he needed to be.
Eddie parks gently. He helps bring the groceries inside. And then he just stays. As if Steve didn’t just ruin everything. But he looks at him with those concerned eyes again, fidgeting with his fingers because he wants to reach out, about two seconds away from crawling out of his skin. Meanwhile, Steve’s pacing back and forth, squeezing his hands shut, eyes closed, breathing heavy through his nose.
“Is something wrong, Steve?” Eddie finally breaks.
Steve shakes his head quickly. “Long day,” he gets out.
Humming, Eddie takes a step forward. He tilts his head and attempts to make eye contact, but Steve averts his gaze. “Why don’t we sit down for a bit and take a little breather?”
“This is the wrong shirt,” Steve blurts, scratching at his stomach again. The shirt keeps rubbing up and down whenever he bends, whenever he moves for that matter. It’s starchy and too new. Too much, not enough. “And my hair is a mess.”
“It’s not a mess,” Eddie murmurs, “looks fine to me.”
“No. I messed it up this morning. Because I tried on all my shirts.”
“All of them?”
Steve nods hastily. “None of them were right. And that doesn’t make sense, I know, but it’s true. And I put three puffs of hairspray in, needed a fourth, but that’s not right either.” He angles his head up at the ceiling, furls and unfurls his hands a few more times before placing them palm down and flat against his chest. Wants to press down. Hard enough to remember, but not enough to bruise. So he does. Gives in. Allows himself this one good thing, the pressure, the hurt, the sizzling ache. “My breakfast was gross.”
“Yeah? What’d you have, baby?” Eddie gently asks.
“Why—“ Steve gasps, struggling. “Why are you fine with this?”
Taken aback, Eddie makes a soft noise. His eyes widen and he furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m being weird. I—You saw me! I was having like a little mini freakout in my car and then I got all mad at you and I was covering my ears and keeping myself tight and now I’m—Fuck, I’m going insane.
“Everything’s wrong. Everything is so wrong. My whole day is fucking wrong. Schedule got ruined. The clothes I planned out days ago didn’t work. My breakfast was bullshit and the grocery store didn’t have the right bread and Skippy is my least favorite peanut butter, but I had to get it because it was on sale and I forgot to get those Pop-Tarts you like even though I wrote them down on my stupid list but I don’t make enough lists because I forgot about the baseball stuff in my car and it shouldn’t have been there and that’s why I had to put the groceries in the backseat and the only good thing was my Tears for Fears album was still in the radio—And…Fuck.” Steve takes a haltingly loud gasping breath. He slams his hands over his chest, finally giving in to that innate urge he’s carried since he was a kid. Squeezes his eyes shut again, not wanting to see whatever hurt or disappointment or realization washes over Eddie’s face.
He continues, “I left the album in my car. The light’s too bright. I can…I can like hear the wiring in the fixtures. Everything. I’m feeling…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know,” Steve babbles. His hands flex into his shirt, the fabric wrong on his skin. Fingernails scratching at it, trying to tear it off. Wants to crouch down onto his knees and hide between the corner cabinets, nestle himself in a dark place, cry until there’s nothing left to give.
The realization hits him all at once, he needs to get away. To the safe space he created. So he forces himself around Eddie, up the stairs, behind his slammed bedroom door. And he crawls the rest of the way into the deep, far side of his closet. On top of old blankets, underneath too small clothes. Rests his head against the wall. And just…sobs.
His elbows rest upon his knees as he shields his face with his forearms. The sounds of his cries muffled by his own skin. He kicks off his sneakers and digs his feet into the pile of blankets underneath him. Trying to get rid of the itchy, swooping, nauseous ache from inside him. He doesn’t like this part of his bad days. Doesn’t like being alone. To be left with his own mess. But he’s not sure how Eddie will respond, so he figures this is better.
Though, that’s quickly proven wrong when Eddie carefully comes in, announcing himself as the door opens. He stops in front of the closet and crouches down. “Hey, Stevie? Is it alright if I’m in here, baby?”
Steve sniffles. “I…You’re not going to be mean, are you?”
“No, Steve. I promise I’ll be nice. I just…You seem really overwhelmed and I thought maybe I could help you a little bit.”
He shuffles forward slightly, opening the closet door from inside. Peeks through the gap. Asks, “How?”
“Could give you a hug? But…I was thinking we could trade shirts first? Mine is pretty soft, kind of loose. I know that’s how you like your t-shirts, baby.” For good measure, he plucks his t-shirt and gestures for Steve’s.
“You’ll look like a dork.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be comfortable. So hand me your shirt and I’ll give you mine.”
Once they’ve exchanged shirts, Steve leaves the closet and sits with Eddie against the side of his bed. Sure, the mattress may be soft and feel nice, but the firm ground under him keeps him anchored. He leans into Eddie’s side, lets him drape an arm over his shoulders, and sighs into the hold. Eddie’s other hand comes up and he traces fingers over Steve’s hairline, featherlight but caring all the same.
“Does this help?” Eddie whispers.
“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “Sorry about…Well, being weird and getting all intense earlier.”
Eddie shrugs. “It wasn’t like that at all, baby. You had a bad day, nothing worked in your favor. I’m not going to fault you for reacting.”
“I was crying in my closet, Eds. That’s hardly normal.”
“I’d cry, too if I had the day you experienced.” He runs his hand between Steve’s shoulder blades, pressing firmly over the tense knots that formed. “Is there anything I can do? Anything on your list that you need help with?”
Steve nuzzles his face into Eddie’s shoulder, cheek squished against the joint. Muffled, he says, “For now, can you just hold me for a while? Nobody’s ever comforted me like this after…Well, you saw what happened. But later, can you help me vacuum and mop?”
“I’ll hold you forever,” Eddie promises. “And I’ll exterminate all the dust bunnies you could ever think to encounter, nothing could make me happier.”
Something in him finally chips away. He’s not quite loose, yet. Not ready to release all the pent up negative energy he’s seemed to catch throughout his day. But he can believe Eddie, for the moment. He rests his head deeper into Eddie’s shoulder, lets himself fall into whatever song Eddie is humming, reaches out and grips firmly to one of Eddie’s hands. Plays with his rings, the smooth metal like a balm on the fatty part of his thumb. He relishes in how Eddie just lets him. Lets him, despite everything.
He can’t quite look Eddie in the eyes, not yet. Can’t force himself off the ground. Can’t quite get rid of that intense, drowning sensation that burbles in his chest—makes him want to cry and breakdown even further. And maybe he can, realistically. But later, he surmises, later he’ll do that, so long as Eddie continues to not mind.
The warmth of their shared bodies is nice. The softness of Eddie’s t-shirt against his skin. The gentle musk left on the collar from whatever cologne Eddie uses. Something with bergamot, a little bit of citrus, something like bourbon. He closes his eyes softly. There’s not much light flooding into his bedroom, just a stripe of golden sunlight from between his curtains, but that’s fine.
For the first time today, something is fine.
“I like this,” Steve quietly admits. “You being here with me through this, I mean.”
Eddie makes an acknowledging hum. “Whenever you need me, I’m a phone call away, sweetheart. I’ll come dashing over, your knight in shining armor, armed with the softest of t-shirts and the most delicious of snacks just for you, baby.”
Steve chuckles. A sound he thought wouldn’t be possible on a day like this. Despite everything, he smiles softly. “I’d love that,” he whispers, “I love you, Eds. Thank you for making me feel a little bit normal.”
“I love you, too, Stevie,” he responds, easy as that. “And I mean it, baby. I love you, I want to hold you and cherish you. You need anything, any time of day, you call me. Bad days are no joke.”
“Mmm,” Steve gently hums. “Maybe I should add cuddle time to my daily routine?”
“Maybe you should,” Eddie agrees. “I think that would be excellent for both of us.”
“Good,” Steve states quietly. He wraps his own arm around Eddie’s waist, pulls him in tighter, and tucks in close. “This feels right.”
💕——–——💕
Taglist: @hotluncheddie
#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#autistic steve harrinton#angst and hurt/comfort
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READ: @alex-silli-art-corner
tw: suicide, abuse
I'll start this callout by saying that most evidence has been deleted long ago. There is no way to recover most of it, but if I have found any more, I'll add them to this post later.
My friendship with him/how it ended.
It started in March of 2024.
Alex had been a member of a discord server, and had a tumblr account where he answered asks as Katy Kat. (Keep this in mind, as sometimes he will be shown as Katy Kat rather than Alex) He then asked for a vent channel to be created in the discord, where he would post frequently about how he was going to kill himself. (this is important later)
He started to DM me about him killing himself, so I started to support him. He would then message me about normal stuff, with him telling me he was suicidal every now and then. I talked with him, because every time I didn't talk to him, he would say i'm ignoring him on purpose.
Around that time, someone else in the server was banned for drawing CP of him and Alex. (both him and Alex were minors at the time.) Everyone in the server told Alex that this person was not a good influence on him, but he ignored us.
As it turns out, he did not cut off this person, (the name that's in blue) and kept being in a relationship with them.
This would continue for a long time. Alex would tell me he would kill himself, I would try to talk him out of it, and he would be fine the next day.
He said he had epilepsy, but those claims are unconfirmed as he has watched the Um Jammer Lammy cutscenes multiple times, which have flashing lights most of the time. If I remember correctly, he would use this to guilt us even more, with us not even being allowed to send any gifs. That would be understandable, if he didn't refuse to turn on Discord's accessibility feature that pauses gifs.
In his Katy Kat ask blog, he drew a lot of gore of Katy Kat. Some of these are deleted, but you can still find some on his account of Katy missing an eye, with bruises and bandages on her.
I am not okay with gore, but I kept talking to him because he was suicidal.
All of my friends cut him off though, except for a stray few who I assume didn't know what he did.
When I cut him off:
About a month ago if I can remember, one of my friends showed me screenshots of Alex saying that one of his suicide attempts was a lie. He had apparently made a joke about him killing himself, and the two people there were telling him it wasn't funny and to not say that. This screenshot was taken a while back, and I didn't see the convo back then. Seeing this, I decided to cut off Alex entirely, because I couldn't trust if what anything he said was true. On top of that, I looked back at everything he'd done, and decided that I wasn't going to talk to him, ever again. He kept trying to contact me.
I noticed how guilt trippy all of his messages were. In fact, most of the time, he was guilt tripping all of us.
This is his last tumblr message to me before I blocked him.
He kept trying to contact me on other websites, such as Reddit.
I had sent him a message telling him he was in the wrong, and that we would never be friends again. This message was deleted, as he threatened to share it with one of my closest friends.
As for the IP address thing, I had posted this meme to Reddit and Tumblr using a fake copypasta that was a lot of information. It's a meme about leaking someones info, but all of this isn't real. It's taken from a copypasta website. In fact, it's this one.
Alex interpreted this as me posting his IP address publically, something I would never do, (yet as you read, it's something he would do to someone else.)
I did not, and will not post someone's IP address publicly. Yet he thought I posted his, even though it isn't hard to look at your own address, and compare it to this meme.
What caused me to make this post.
This happened just today. I was sent an ask clearly written by Alex containing my personal information to me.
Alex. If you're reading this, which I know you are. This wasn't okay. You're putting my life in danger. You're putting other's lives in danger. You're putting my family's life in danger.
Why would I want to be friends with a guilt tripper?
Why would I want to be friends with someone who leaks other's information?
Why would I want to be friends with someone who draws gore of my favorite characters?
Why would I want to be friends with a liar?
None of this is okay. You were, and still are, the worst thing that's happened to me.
You don't deserve happiness.
I ask anyone who's been affected by him, to please speak up. Don't sit there in silence like you have all this time. I know he's done awful things to you. Please, if you can, tell me what he's done to you. Nobody should have to go through what he's put me through, and I'm sure that he's done something similar to you.
Sorry for being a bit rude to him in this post, but I don't care.
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what are ur opinions on dennor, romantic and platonic?? :0 (ik u characterize them as brothers, so pls feel free to only answer for their platonic relationship if thats what ure comfortable with!)
To me, Denmark and Norway could check all buddy comedy tropes; I love them. Denmark's wild schemes test Norway's patience every single time and put them on some kind of adventure. Norway has learned to say "Denmark, no," almost instinctively to everything, but if nothing else, he keeps an eye to ensure Den doesn't get into too much trouble. And whenever Norway helps him with a problem, Denmark thanks him with eternal gratitude - until he inevitably bothers Norway again.
They, of course, have a long shared history, and their opinion of each other has changed multiple times during the time they have known each other. However, this shared history has also caused an imbalance between them. Denmark relies more on Norway and views him highly; Norway is the best friend he can trust his life with. Meanwhile, Norway doesn't share the same enthusiastic view, rather keeping his distance when he can and not giving in to all of his friends' crazy proposals. Den tends to view Norway as a fundamental part of his life, someone who always has his back no matter what. He can sometimes be in his little bubble, forgetting and losing his thoughts, so Norway follows and cleans up after him - as he has always done. It annoys Norway at times but he knows Denmark doesn't do these things out of maliciousness, so he has learned to live with it.
As much as Norway has had to put up with Denmark, he doesn't hold a grudge about it, even if he could. I think they have gone over their past struggles multiple times and somewhat gotten over them. In a weird way, perhaps out of all the Nordics, their relationship is the most good-faith one nowadays. But still, while Denmark views Norway as the closest person to him, Norway doesn't really get that association. Norway probably feels he has more in common with Sweden (but he wouldn't admit that). Also, I don't think Denmark and Norway would have nearly as big of a competition between themselves as they both do with Sweden; more than anything, they both combine forces to bother and tease Swe.
I think the canon really nailed the relationship between them. In the end, Norway loves and cares about Denmark - he has just learned to set up his boundaries and not let Den run over him. Norway knows how much he means to the guy, so he can't be too mean or dismissive. Norway will help Denmark out when he asks, but Nor also remembers to scold Denmark to keep him in his place. Denmark knows he didn't treat Norway the best in the past, so he doesn't mind (Norway specifically) mocking him. Den has never seen Norway as that threatening but will forever envy Norway's general luck regarding pretty much everything in life, which is a joke between them.
They both like visiting each other's places, but for entirely different reasons, and thus, they most likely spend a decent amount of time together. I could see Denmark and Norway still sharing an emotional bond that's special to them. They can talk about their worries rather openly and offer advice. Den knows Norway tends to suppress his emotions and not talk about them, so he tries to sneakily get him to open up. If he feels absent, Den will desperately try to amuse Norway and give him a positive outlook on life, with varying success. Perhaps that's their strength, and Norway can't help but find Denmark delightful. He tries, and Nor appreciates it.
To me, their relationship is platonic, and their past unions were based on brotherhood. I don't dislike the idea of romance between them, but something about the "chaotic buddy duo" takes the win for me. Their friendship itself provides lots of drama as is; breaking up various times but inevitably getting back together in the end, just out of their care and loyalty for each other. They're just unlikely best friends, stuck with each other, and they wouldn't have it any other way!
#hws norway#hws denmark#headcanons#ty for the ask <3#platonic dennor my beloved. they have bromance energy ngl
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AVIDITY
©sooguru
[⌗synopsis ⸝⸝ 𝜗𝜚] when a man decides that he’ll take better care of you than your husband.
[⌗cw ⸝⸝ 𝜗𝜚] DARK CONTENT - this will be a series . stalker! geto x married black fem! reader , cheating husband toji , strong language , sex , violence (domestic abuse) , drug references , cheating (f+m).
chapter 00
─── ⋆⋅𝜗𝜚 " IN the grip of obsession, all else fades away, leaving only the burning desire for what we cannot have. "
desire. something me and my husband toji no longer shared. i tried, trust me i did, but it was pointless. he was no longer with me. his mind was elsewhere. my best bet was that it was with the colleague at his work. the one that would always text his phone asking where he was; the one that would text him saying that she misses him.
i sighed at the thought, continuing to type away at my computer screen. i send a quick text to toji saying that i’ll be home late. i got back to it, wanting to get my work done early so that i could head home at a good time. the office become uninhabited as the sun ran away for the day, the moon coming out for her daily shift.
i sighed once again, looking around the dark office. it felt like i was being watched. i shook it off though, knowing i was just being paranoid beacuse it was dark. i glanced at the time, pouting slightly.
“8 already? i wanted to get home early..ugh.”
i packed up my stuff, calling it a night. i left my workplace, walking downstairs to the car park, my car keys in hand as i walked to my car. as i opened the drivers side door, i spotted a figure in the distance, my eyes narrowing as i looked around the empty area.
as my gaze focussed, i noticed his eyes boring in to me, a blank look on his face; gaze intense before he breaks into a smile, giving me a slow wave.
he was beautiful to say the least. his long raven coloured hair, his muscular frame covered in a black suit. i watched him walk away, my lips parting slightly, unsure of what to make of what just happened. should i be scared? maybe he thought i was someone else.
i get into my car, turning on the engine as i drove out of the car park. on my way out, i spotted him once again. as i drive past, i got a closer look at what this mystery man looked like. i could see his head turn, brandishing another grin as he gave me a wink, his light brown eyes twinkling in the moonlight.
how odd? i don’t know.
once i got home, i was met with the sounds of sex. the bed creaking and slapping against the wall.
“oh.”
i stood at my front door, unsure of what to do. i knew he wouldn’t care if i caught him in the act, instead i took off my shoes; leaving them by the door before heading to the kitchen, my belly grumbling as i hoped there was some food somewhere. maybe he bought something and left a little bite for me..
who am i kidding.
i looked into the empty fridge, nothing but water in it. i sighed loudly, going to the alcohol cabinet, taking out some whiskey while i pulled up doordash, wondering which fast food place would deliver at this time.
pizza? maybe some chinese food..hm. options, options, options. i decided on just getting a pizza since it was the cheapest option. i tried my best to ignored the loud pounding followed by screams of pleasure upstairs, remembering when we used to have sex. it always feels amazing when you’re in love.
i pushed the thoughts from my head, taking a swig of the whiskey, resting my head on my hands, wondering how my life ended up like this. the opposite of everything i ever wanted. the bruise on my thigh was evidence of that.
i wanted to escape, to turn back time and choose a different path. one where toji fushiguro wasn’t in my life..then maybe i wouldn’t be stuck in a loveless marriage with a husband who’d rather hurt me than love me.
who’d rather give me bruises instead of kisses.
anything would be better than this hell.
i wanted to leave him, but every time i’d bring up getting a divorce, he’d yell and throw a fit. i was pulled from my thoughts at the sound of my doorbell. i quickly got up, taking my purse with me so i could tip the doordasher, however, when i opened the door, nobody was there. just my pizza box on the ground,
“what the hell? god..”
i huffed, grumbling as i snatched the box up, slamming the door shut, causing the noises from upstairs to cease. opening my pizza box, i discovered the strangest thing.
the pepperoni was obviously moved, discoloured patches remained on the cheese from where they once laid. the meat was shaped into a heart, in the middle, written in ketchup was ‘I SEE YOU’.
my heart started to race, unsure of who would do something like this. maybe they got the wrong address? but my name and address were on the receipt stuck on the box.
perhaps it was a prank? yeah. a couple of kids live across from here so i wouldn’t be surprised. but..it was so late. who would be pulling pranks at this hour..?
nonetheless, i ate the pizza, hearing my husband and his coworker come down from upstairs, her heels clicking as she left the house, leaving me with just him. i didn’t turn to look at toji, just chewing on my pizza silently as he walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge door to see if there was anything.
“so you only got food for yourself?”
he said lowly, glaring at me. i didn’t reply, staring down at the pizza, continuing to eat it, eating a bit faster; not liking the look he was giving me.
“stupid bitch.”
he seethed, snatching the pizza box from my hand, landing a harsh slap on my face, scoffing.
“this should teach your selfish ass a lesson.”
with that, he left with my food. my belly grumbled, a long sigh leaving my lips as i went back to the whiskey, deciding to fill my stomach with that instead. i couldn’t even go to my friend shoko’s for the night because she was on holiday with her girlfriend.
i sighed, resting my forehead against the table, crying softly, my cheek feeling hot and uncomfortable, more tears welling in my eyes because of it.
after a few hours, i stumbled upstairs, only once i was sure he was asleep. i stripped out of my clothes, stumbling into our bedroom, changing into my pyjamas before walking back downstairs. laying on the couch, i could only toss and turn, struggling to sleep with this uncomfortable bruise forming on my cheek. i sighed softly, tears welling in my eyes again, wondering why i ever let my life get this bad.
as i closed my eyes, the face of that man from earlier popped into my head. admiring his beauty from afar in that car park, although, his actions were a little odd, waving to me in the car park? maybe he was just being friendly. i shook it off, soon falling asleep to the dream of living a better life without my husband.
what a great dream.
the morning eventually came, meaning i had to get ready for work. thankfully toji had already gone to his job, leaving the house to myself. i didn’t have work until later, so i spent most of the day gathering groceries and lazing around the house before getting myself dressed into a simple black long sleeved maxi dress that clung to my curves.
it was quite warm today, so i was sure everyone would be dressed in similar attire to me. i put my heels on, hearing them click against my floor as i sprayed my perfume, grabbing my keys and getting in my car, driving off to my job.
—
upon arriving, i was pulled to the side by nanami, a bunch of files in his hands.
“good afternoon y/n, i need you to look over these files for me and hand them to mr. geto’s desk later on. he’s a new transfer from a different firm so try and welcome him as best as you can.”
“oh of course! i’ve been waiting for someone new to come, we’ve been understaffed for too long..”
i said with a pout, complaining about how our team was being overworked. nanami agreed with me, giving me a bottle of water to stay hydrated in the heat before going off to do whatever managers of an accounting firm do.
sighting, i put a smile on my face, greeting all of my coworkers, met with pleasant smiles and sweet conversation. everyone was so nice to me, i really did love working here. it was a nice escape from my life back home.
after completing the files, i walked around, asking others if they could point me to “geto’s desk”. i was excited to meet someone new, wondering what i could do the help welcome him here.
i finally found his stall, walking over to it and knocking on the wall to signal my arrival.
“hello! are you mr. geto?”
as he turned to look at me, my eyes widened in surprise.
“it’s you from the car park last night!”
i blurted out, a warm smile on my lips. it made more sense now, he must’ve seen me at work and wanted to say hi knowing we’d be working together, how nice of him!
he stood up from his desk, taking tall strides towards me, smiling down at me.
god he was taller up close.
“you remembered me?”
he said calmly. his voice was smooth like silk, his eyes trained on me, giving me all of his attention. i looked up at him, my neck straining slightly, the scent of his cologne wafting off his muscular frame; a divine scent, welcomed appreciatively by my nose.
i nodded, my lips parting slightly as i stared at his face.
god he was beautiful.
when they said he was transferred from a different firm, i half expected some old man, but he..he only looked a little older than me..maybe late twenties? early thirties? i was one of the younger workers here, only 24, so mostly everyone was older than me.
“are you alright mrs fushiguro?”
i shook off what sort of trance i was in, closing my mouth as i looked away briefly, clearing my throat. i held the files out to him, giving him a warm smile.
“i was told to give these to you, i’ve looked over everything so it should be relatively easy to input the data. we’re all happy that you’re here mr geto, especially me!”
i said softly, placing my hands in front of me as he took the files from my grasp.
as i said my words, he gave me a certain look. i couldn’t pin what it was..but it sent chills down my spine. good or bad? i didn’t know yet.
he simply nodded, turning around and walking back to his desk, laying the files down. he exuded calm confidence, an addictive aura surrounding him. i feared that if i lingered too long, i’d say something unprofessional.
“your words are extremely kind. thank you mrs fushiguro.”
“you can just call me y/n, i’m sure we’ll be friends soon enough”
i said in a soft tone. he gave me a small smile, his beautiful hair falling into his face slightly as he nodded.
“well then you can call me suguru.”
as i was about to say something, i noticed the time.
“oh no! i’ll be late for my meeting!”
i rushed off, stopping myself and running back to geto.
“goodbye suguru! i’ll see you later!”
i rushed off again, heading into my meeting with suguru stuck on my mind. he was so handsome. too handsome. what was a man like him doing in a stuffy office like this? i was now officially excited to know more about this new mystery man.
who exactly are you mr. geto?
#anime fanfic#anime x reader#fanfic#geto x black y/n#geto fanfic#geto x black reader#jujutsu geto#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto suguru#geto x y/n#jjk smut#jjk series#sooguru
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Promise is a promise
CW: Infidelity, Soap is a bastard
Trying to breach out of my comfort zone, so here ya go! I'm not sure I handled the emotional part well, but I hope it'll suffice
Ghost had never been quite as happy as he was now. His team was supportive and understood his quirks. Work was going well as they hunted Makarov. And he and Soap had finally gotten together.
Ghost could admit, a big part of his good mood was that he had finally gotten laid. First time in... he gave up trying to count the years. Soap was great in bed. Both physically and making him feel comfortable knowing his... history.
But they went on dates and kissed and Soap called him his boyfriend several times. Ghost, in the dead of night cause he'd never have the nerve to do it in the light of day, had whispered that he loved Soap. Soap always whispered it back.
Right now, Price had caught Ghost to talk to him about Makarov. He listened, trying to take as much of the information in as he could, but he was still thinking about Johnny. His fingers itched to send him a message. Maybe they could sneak away together later? Ghost remembered Soap mentioning a movie he wanted to see. It wasn't something he'd be interested in, but Soap talked through every movie anyway so it wouldn't matter.
Price had stopped speaking, staring at him expectantly.
Ghost nodded and Price laughed at him. "Alright Simon. I'm glad you're doing better."
Ghost had no idea what he said yes to, but Price left him alone. Instead of sending a text, he grabbed some snacks from the canteen and just went to Soap's room.
Soap had mentioned that he liked spontaneity and Ghost felt this was a good place to start. He didn't even get to the door before he heard the grunting.
His face screwed up immediately, but Soap did share a room with Gaz. While he wasn't aware of Alex being at base, he couldn't be certain he wasn't in the area. He'd assume Alex would tell him immediately but... things happen.
Instead of barging in, he knocked quietly so that Gaz and Alex could get themselves decent before he barged in.
He heard Scottish cursing on the other side of the door along with scrambling. Ghost could feel his chest starting to crack. The pressure was building but he was naively, pathetically hoping, that he had misunderstood somehow.
Soap opened the door and had to look up. The pants he had haphazardly pulled on hung low on his hips and he hadn't managed to get a shirt on.
"Lieutenant!" He smiled, showing no shame over how Ghost had just found him. No discomfort. Since when did Johnny call him by his full title? Lt sometimes, maybe, but never Lieutenant.
The lad behind Soap did not show the same sentiment. He looked incredibly nervous. "Lieutenant."
Ghost stared at them both as Johnny slowly looked down at his hands where he still had whatever he could scrounge up from the canteen. Suddenly, he felt embarrassed coming to Soap's room like this. So embarrassed he felt nauseous over it. For a brief moment, he thought he was going to throw up all over Soap's bare fucking feet.
"Something wrong, Simon?"
"Don't fucking call me that, Sergeant." Ghost answered, voice so far away and cold it made Soap flinch.
"I know fraternization is looked down upon, but since when do you care about that rule?" Soap looked genuinely confused.
Ghost went through every moment in the past several weeks. Soap had referred to their nightly hangouts as dates like always. He had called Ghost all kinds of nicknames.
Had Ghost done something wrong? Must have. Simon Riley ruined something else.
Soap caught on. He always did. He looked at the other man and told him to get lost for right now. "We're alone now, do you want to talk?"
There were hickeys on his neck. That's what finally got everything through to Ghost.
"I thought we were together."
Soap frowned. "We are together."
Ghost felt like he was short-circuiting. "You just fucked someone else. What the actual fuck are you talking about? If we're together and you're acting like a fucking slag-"
Soap rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Simon. Forgot it's been a while since you dated. This is how modern relationships are. You should've asked me to be exclusive if that's what you wanted."
"I have to ask you to not cheat on me?"
"Woah, don't throw that word around."
Ghost dropped the food on the floor and shoved his finger into Soap's chest. "Why? That's what you did. You cheated on me. I trusted you."
Soap frowned. "Look, I'm sorry this hurt you. I'm used to people my age and rank. I should've known you would be a bit different."
Ghost felt like he'd been hit in the gut. He felt like an idiot. A lovesick fool. "Stay away from me, MacTavish."
Soap's demeanor changed, his face falling. "Wait, c'mon Simon."
"No. Don't you dare call me that. Clearly, I'm too fucking old fashioned. I missed something here. So, let me fix it. Don't talk to me. Don't come near me. Next time you want to get laid, call one of the other sergeants." Ghost barked at him.
"Oh, mo ghràdh." Soap tried to reach out and Ghost started to back.
Like a coward, he ran from him. He didn't go to his room, sure Soap would eventually go knocking. He also didn't want to deal with the disappointment if he didn't.
So he went to the only place he could in the base. Price's room.
Price didn't ask him anything. Didn't say a word. He just let Ghost sit on his couch and drink his whiskey and let him ruminate until Ghost felt sane. But unlike usual, Ghost did not feel sane the longer he thought.
"Something happen, Simon?"
"Ghost right now." He answered quietly. He felt displaced. Body shaken and wrong.
"Alright, Ghost. What happened? Trouble in paradise?"
"No. That's over."
Price nodded but Ghost could see his disappointment. He probably assumed Ghost fucked it up. Probably did. He just wasn't sure how yet. "I have some of your special cigars in my desk."
Ghost paused and looked over at him. "You're fucked, Captain. How did you even get a joint in here?"
"Eh, keep it in the desk in case you come walking into here."
Ghost nodded. "If Soap comes in here, don't let him know I'm here."
Price looked at him sadly. "I won't, Ghost."
So Ghost got as high as he could and thought over it all. His phone kept buzzing with Soap's messages. He went to check them and Price took it from his hands. "Mind if I read them?"
"No, sir. Soap will probably tell the whole base anyway."
Price frowned more and started reading through them. He eventually set the phone down. "Nothing in there you need to read, Simon. He's a right fucking bastard. Don't pay him any mind."
"It hurts." Ghost admitted. "First try in god knows how long. He said it was my fault. That this is how relationships are. Is that true?"
Price sighed. "I don't know. Been so long since I've had to date. Graves is old fashioned like me." He patted Ghost's shoulder. "Actually... I know you always turned me down before."
"I'm not sure I want to be set up on a date right now, Captain."
"Well, if you change your mind, I have a nice fella named Roach who I think you'd get along with swimmingly."
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#call of duty modern warfare ii#cod mw2#ghostsoap#cod#soapghost#ghoap
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MAX HEY what got u into soccer (as u call it) / ur football origin story ?!?!?
HI BESTIE I LOVE HEARING FROM YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!!
warning in advance i talk. so much. like half this info isnt even necessary to answer the question i jus like to run my big mouth.
so it all started when i was a wee lil lad. actually if you wanna be technical it starts before then!! basically i love soccer cause my dads loved it his whole life. n my dad loves soccer cause his dad loved soccer n i'll probly pass it on to my poor kiddos in the future lmao.
but yeah when i say dad loves soccer i MEAN it. he played when he was in school n continued to play after for the local club, a club made entirely of irish immigrants in new york. he is not irish. but he was rlly good so they were like aight. i have a ton a their trophies n yearbooks n stuff!! my dad was a goalie n helped them win a CHAMPIONSHIP (that he postponed his wedding for)!!! he got a buncha mvp votes n my opa has a plaque thanking him for being their biggest supporter :)) fun fact dads team played against usmnt goalie tim howard when he was younger. dont remember who won tho.
i know less abt opas exploits unfortunately, but by God did he love the sport. man could watch half a dozen games a day. oh wait nvm i jus remembered how could i forget he took my dad to PELES FAREWELL GAME IN '77??? oh yeah my dad n opa used to see the new york cosmos EVERY HOME GAME. so theyve literally seen pele himself more times than my dad can count. funny lil story they were season ticket holders but at the farewell game their seats were given to mohammed ali. as i type this i realize that sounds so made up but im not shitting you. look it up he was there.
so yeah naturally being raised by this man means being raised around soccer. as a baby i had a little plush soccer ball n i actually took my first steps with it. its still lying around somewhere i think. i did play when i was a kid (goalie, ofc) but the fact that i have the atheticism of an asthmatic squirrel cut my playing career short. honestly, i regret not pulling through n playing more. i actually didnt get into european soccer till i was like eleven. up until then i was a DIE HARD mls/new york red bulls enjoyer. i went to my first red bulls game when i was literally an infant n went to damn near every home game for over a decade. which means i jus got to watch the man, the myth, the legend mr thierry henry more times than i can COUNT. i didnt realize till years later how fortunate i actually was!!
now the REAL awakening. so its 2014, either march or april i cant remember. i come downstairs from an absurdly long minecraft playing binge n like usual theres a game on the tv. i ask whos playing n my dads like its el clasico. n im like ??? he explains that barcelona n real madrid are two teams in spain with an intense rivalry n every time they play they call it el clasico. n that barcelona has a player named lionel messi, who many consider the best in the world, n that real madrid has cristiano ronaldo, who many also consider the best in the world. i watched the rest of the game with him, n i honestly dont know what exactly made me a die hard messi fan. my dads a serie a/juventus enjoyer so he didnt care enough to steer me one way or the other. but from that day forward i was the BIGGEST messi n barcelona fan. i remember the 2014 wc VIVIDLY, it made me the woman i am today n NOT in a good way. i also remember growing up watching msn n that was literal crack. the 2015 ucl final especially was an,,, interesting time in my house lmao.
n thats why i love soccer!!!
#OH GOD I AM SO SO SO SORRY#I DIDNT THINK I WOULD TALK THIS MUCH IM SORRY#EVERY TIME I THOUGHT I WAS DONE I REMEMBERED SOMETHING ELSE#N THERES EVEN MORE COOL FACTS N STUFF I DIDNT MENTION CAUSE I FEEL RLLY BAD FOR RAMBLING THIS MUCH#yeah i tend to talk a lot n then immediately hate myself for being self centered#why couldnt God have given me a cool talent. instead i take seventeen paragraphs to answer a simple question.#anyway#i love you abi#ty for the ask <3
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Hi this is a vent post! Continue scrolling if you'd rather not see that
#Giving time...#Still more time...#Wouldn't want to plague any previews#Maybe another filler. Just for some fun#Is this enough?#It certainly is now#Alright start:#I'm so bored. I am so incredibly; intrinsically; entirely bored. I have been taught the same thing for four years straight#'It's only four years!' that's literally a quarter of my lifetime right there. My formative years are being spent stressed and in a state /#/of constant self-loathing#I was watching a YT video and the phrase 'attention-starved STEM major' came up and I was like. Yea#What am I even working towards? The hope that my version of capitalist hell isn't as bad as everyone else's? I'm just so sick of not /#/having a stable future what with politics and normal working people becoming more and more oppressed#I don't want to work and that's not because I'm lazy. It's because my brain is recognising that there is no reward anymore#I used to have such a little spark in Yr7. I remember having things to say and wanting to share everything I've done#I still do that now; sure I do. I don't enjoy it though#I thought I liked drawing but I'm realising that all I really like is the attention. I COULD draw things I like drawing... but then I /#/ don't get attention which my mind then classifies as zero reward#I'm very tired of doing things for no credit; reward; or validation. This is becoming a theme#Then I wonder what I'm doing wrong. What part of the algorithm am I not hitting. Then I realise that I'm just not marketable in a way#God. I'm seriously breaking rn. It's not even only because of GCSEs#It's just a culmination of doing all these things to be told that I am unworthy of Having as a result. It doesn't matter if I'm smart; my /#/ parents still don't own their house and can't afford to pay for heating most days#Literally what am I doing this for#And then I realise that all of this is ALSO attention-seeking behaviour! I'm my own worst problem; I recognise exactly what's wrong with /#/ myself but the body wants what it wants. And what it wants is validation that I'm not going to get in this life#Hi guys! Maybe don't interact. That could fix me#Wean me off of needing virtual numbers just to feel something. Jesus#I can't even be happy with the things that I make for myself. Because I make nothing for myself anymore#It's just a whole sad existence of an expected 12hr+ of school every day until I get a job I guess. Then it's 12hr+ of job every day until
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why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up
#i'm overthinking something that i did and was told off for doing by my director#and on my way home i was thinking when was the last time i was even talked to like that during a production#and then i remembered the costume experience from hell of only a couple months ago that i've already began blocking out#but the thing is that that person was someone i knew i'd never have to work with again#i mean at first i thought i would have to work with them more. then they announced they were moving away immediately#so i only had to deal with them face to face for another weekish after that point and anytime they yelled at me#i was like 'cool. i'll do exactly what you say to do. and nothing more.' but then of course me being me#i did some extra stuff and they initially were like 'oh that's pretty' and then days later told me to cut everything i added#and like sure i get that the show was frozen but girl. that costume was unfinished. i was trying to finish it. it was frozen but looked bad#anyway. whenever they yelled at me and had actual malice in their heart i was like whatever. i was hurt. but i didn't care as much.#but this time it's someone i've worked with many many times before and it was about a habit i have that i know isn't great#but at the same time the thing that prompted it wasn't even me doing this habit it was something else#but she interpreted it as that habit and said that i can't do that on a production she's directing#and that if i couldn't stop then i could pull out from the production and there'd be no hard feelings between us#and honestly i think her reassuring that she knows i'm valuable and that she wants me there while also telling me not to do this thing#and the fact that she's someone i like working with and will continue to work with just made it all hurt so much more#especially since she referenced another past production we've done where i didn't even realize she had noticed that i do this.#and i found myself in near tears. and still am kind of in near tears. i can't decide if i need to cry or not.#and i had NO sleep last night so i was looking forward to sleeping tonight but now i'm just overthinking EVERYTHING#and like. i know everything will be fine. if i just stop inserting myself and stick to just my specific tasks. it'll be fine.#but this is one of the ways my ocd manifests. i feel like i have to personally fix something i notice going wrong. or it'll be bad.#because every single time i choose to sit back and not be nosy when i notice something it ends up bad in a way i could have prevented#if i just inserted myself in a situation i technically wasn't part of but knew i could help or fix. so i just need to not do that.#but then i feel guilt if it does go wrong in the ways i immediately assumed it would and in a way i could prevent.#and i've been trying to work on this for like 6 months and aaaahhhh it's hard and being called out on it from her just really really hurt#i still may or may not cry. i don't know. the irony of me telling my therapist THIS MORNING that it's been a while since i last cried.#and the universe being like 'i took that as a challenge' and handing me this situation for me to spiral over.#i need to leave things alone. i need to stare straight ahead. and ignore whatever isn't specifically for me to do. but ahhh i want to help#and then of course my mom has this same habit and it annoys me when she does it yet i do it to other people and ahhhhhhhh#brain please just shut up. i need to sleep. i have to work tomorrow.
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Do you ever love someone so much that you automatically forgive them for doing something so downright terrible to you —which has left you traumatized and utterly shattered for life — and try rationalizing what happened as having been your fault in any way you can, just to try and cope with what they did, because if you can convince yourself that you deserved it wholeheartedly then it won’t interfere with the fact that you two are all each other have left and it would destroy what you had over the span of so many years
#and no I’m not talking about Heil & Co.#i should’ve never given him that many drugs without at least being sober to watch him#but then again — even if I was it probably still would’ve happened and hurt even more#and i should’ve taken his feelings into consideration — but it’s hard when he doesn’t display any emotion or indication of being upset#about literally anything. he just keeps it to himself. even when he’s drunk off some beer every once in a while#(he’s a social drinker and one beer will get his anorexic ass drunk immediately)#and my stupid ass… let him take all those drugs not realizing that maybe he was coping with SOMETHING i wasn’t aware of#perhaps the same shit I’m coping with as we’re both in this mess together#i’ve never thought he was capable of doing anything like that in my life#on god he was the last person I thought could even think about it — even while on a brompton cocktail of drugs he’s never tried#it’s literally all my fault like it genuinely is my fault for what he did last night#but at the same time — I genuinely wonder if it was the drugs or if he knew what he was doing#when he slammed my head against the metal bedframe to put his hand over my mouth and straight up told me to ‘shut the fuck up.’#when i told him to stop and that he was hurting me#also at the same time — he’s been seeing me take that type of abuse from every man ever — especially Heil#and i was coping with it by acting like i actually enjoyed it when really I just couldn’t do anything else about it#EXCEPT pretend to like it to get it over with quicker or disassociate through it#and i guess he thought I was into it or ‘playing along’ when i told him to stop and that he was genuinely hurting me.#like I’m bleeding down there and my period hasn’t even started yet#i mean i genuinely deserved it after all he’s done for me and got me out of that whole clusterfuck ordeal#but I hope to god that all those drugs he’s not used to — especially in that amount — and the fact that he stood up and his mind went blank#and he collapsed and hit his head hard on the nightstand or table or whatever between our beds and probably gave himself a concussion#and because he has a sensory disorder where he can’t feel pain and yada yada — it#made him forget everything. what i said. what he did after i said it. how hard he split on me. the things he said while doing it.#so that way I can keep this bottled up for as long as possible as to not ruin what we have.#because if he doesn’t remember what he did to me and I told him he would genuinely kill himself over it.#either that or what we have will never be the same.#he will probably never be able to touch or kiss or hug or even look or talk to me the same.#he would probably live a life plagued with guilt and shame — as if he and his family haven’t been shamed enough lmao#but did and does he still know what he did and was doing when he did it. ‘if he did it once — it’ll happen again.’
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#the whole vet situation gives me such trauma whiplash im too busy with that that i havent really given myself a chance to process today#all i can think about is how painful eating must be for mischa#i noticed she slowed down a bit and wouldnt eat kibble or hard snacks but i thought it might be one single tooth ache idk#i actually thought she was doing better because she slowed down because she has been gulping down food way too fast since the shelter#the last time she had tooth problems like 2-3 years ago i asked a friend to come with me to the vet and she said omg yes of course#and then she resumed texting me normal stuff throughout the day of the appointment and only after i didnt reply the whole day she noticed#like 10 hours too late she was like OH SHIT HAHA!! and this is literally what happens every time when i ask someone to be there for me#when i make myself really vulnerable and ask for help and say that i cant do something alone they let me down#while knowing that i have no one else#i asked my mom to come to the vet once and she literally only talked about herself the whole time distracting me#and then she was like haha yeah lets just drop off the cat at home and go get some lunch hihi!!!!#she never remembers vet appointments even when we just talked about them and loves making fun of me for being stressed and tense#like OH NO WONDER YOU WERE MOODY like im on my period or something#i texted a friend about mischas health issues and me losing my job and she hasnt replied since january and doesnt really talk to me anymore#so i guess that friendship is done too#ill have to go there on thursday alone and overdraft my account and wait until the evening and care for mischa all alone#i cant even talk with someone about this because no one understands or judges my emotions and no one cares anyway#and then ill have to go back to work where everyone knows that i will be gone soon and will pester me about it#they all think of me as a temporary intern anyway and ask WHEN WILL YOU GO FIND A REAL JOB while they make me do theirs#everything and everyone at that job is so horrible and so many people leave and they never learn#a colleague i helped teaching everything suddenly turned on me &my other colleague & made our lives miserable while badmouthing us viciously#and everyone in the office chose her over us and let her get away with it while she screamed at us and behaved like a child#its so ironic how i stayed because i needed money to live and now when i go i will have 0 because of the surgery#i mean its worth it but like#what the fuck is life and what will it fucking be next month
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i don't think you want anything to do with me anymore so i can just vent the texts i want to send to you here
#i am sorry#truly genuinely#ive been trying to justify it to myself that we weren't technically together and you said go kiss other people ill still be here meet your#needs in the way you want#but i think it was#yesterday#this guy flirted with me and i flirted back but then suddenly this wave of disgust and self loathing hit me#like what am i even doing#how could i have done that#you were sitting there thinking we're okay you thought we were still together and im just in a bad mood going thru one of those depressive#episodes you were so understanding when you shouldn't have been because if i say im in love with you i should be there for you every step#of the way.#but you go through so much shit alone and im never there for you or atleast not there for you a lot of times and then i blame you for#liking your bestfriends more like it's so stupid obviously love should be reliable stable#and we were something na. we were everything except the label#i should have told you the moment i started feeling empty and dissatisfied again#but just. this isn't an excuse but like i didn't want to hurt you by bringing up this same fight for the one thousandth time#we agreed that you're not in the position to give more and i agreed to be okay with it and i really was.#but i can't help myself i want to give you everything i hate that feeling that i need to be less love less WANT less. mujhse nahi ho pata#i wasn't lying or pretending to be okay with it i was TRYING my best to be okay with it because i love you and this was the only way to#not lose you forever#now i just want to move on fr and be just friends with you. i can't lose you as a person but i don't know how to make this up to you#i am physically incapable of being in this situationship i want a relationship or a friendship i can't with this in between#which is what i told you in jan. i remember my chest actually feeling heavy with fear bc i was so scared of hurting you and getting hurt#again. jokes on me my worst fears came true all the progress we made by taking space is lost#i don't know if you really deleted my playlist. i tried to listen to more songs from it but they're so. lovely. talking about epic grand#love. which we have. but it's like waving a candy in front of a kid and snatching it away it hurts too much to have all the feelings and#none of the relationship. now that ive talked to some people in the romantic sense i get it#you were my best love my most perfect love there are no flaws there's nothing anyone else can do that can be equal or more to what you did#but idk it isn't meant to be maybe there's no future
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Brooklyn Baby - G.S.
Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.
Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)
A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves*
Art by @_3aem on X.
Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.
Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.
You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances.
And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did.
You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles.
Whatever, part of the job anyway.
It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex?
Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances?
“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you.
If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow.
“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”
You were not jealous.
Suguru knew you were jealous.
Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?
He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him.
That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears.
The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?
Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.
“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?
He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson.
Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.
The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”
“Oh?”
“Wanna help me with it?”
He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles.
Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room.
“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.
It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt.
“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously.
“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.”
In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”
“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.
He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.
Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over.
“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers.
You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings.
Suguru was definitely losing his sanity.
Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.
He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers.
Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”
He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist.
“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly.
“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”
Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close.
His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.
God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.
Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones.
Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.
“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.
You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.
“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.
Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.
Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs.
His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases.
Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself.
The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him.
You have no idea what you do to him.
Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive.
“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display.
You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you.
He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.
Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers?
Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.
Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.
“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.
You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.
Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.
He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside.
Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.
Shit, he was really feeling it today.
Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief.
You were, too.
If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.
“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off.
“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.
He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out.
Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock.
“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.
“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.”
“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”
“Yes.”
At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for.
“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”
Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds.
It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt.
He just can’t get enough.
He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size.
“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”
“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans.
Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder.
Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.
“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings.
He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base.
His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.
You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe.
He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart.
“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.
Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear.
Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.
A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”
Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.
As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.
“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.
He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.”
Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good.
The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band.
Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.
Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.
In this moment it felt like just you two in this world.
You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else.
Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point.
“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer.
“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips.
“Be mine.”
And that’s all Suguru ever wanted.
With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his.
Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.
As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.
Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail.
Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.
“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.
The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes.
Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-”
“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.
“Ah- um-”
“You-”
Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.
“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time.
Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”
“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice.
Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.
“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces.
‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.
Blinding lights.
Deafening screams.
Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.
Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.
But he only wanted to fuck you.
A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#geto x reader#geto x you#geto smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fic#jjk#geto suguru#tonywrites
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NEED TO KNOW — j.jk
★Pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader
★genre: smut
★: older!jk, dads bestfriend!jk , oral (giving and receiving ) , unprotected sex , reader has a crush on jk, bachelor!jk, big dick jk, size kink kinda, hair pulling, gagging, slapping, pervert jk , dry humping , anal play , degradation, name calling, nicknames - lmk if i missed any!
★W/C: 4,395
A/N: remember that time I mentioned a jk fic that i was writing? This is that fic. Literally put this on hold for 2 months and finished writing it last night 😭 anyways enjoy!!
☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★
“But i dont wannnnaaaaa goooooo!..” you whined as you declined your dad’s offer to go to his big company party. “Sweetheart this is a huge deal for me …” your dad countered. “… more over, mr.jeon is going to be there ..!” Your ears perked up at the mention of Mr. Jeon. The tall, tatted bachelor with his piercings and built body, who has been your dad’s best friend since his college days.
Since you were a teenager, you have had the biggest crush on him. He was perfect in every way. He was older. More wiser. Handsome. Just your type. The initial infatuation was small, but as you grew into your adult years, it grew stronger.
You were starting to dream about him. Not even the usual kind. Wet dreams.
He grew older like fine wine. Body covered in beautiful art. Built like an actual Greek god.
Surprisingly, he was not yet married, even though he was well off in his late 40s. He used to say 'no woman has ever caught my attention' when someone mentioned him still being single at his age—from what you've heard.
Your dad and him, being business partners, frequently bring him to your home. Always hanging out at the bar or in your dad’s study. You capitalized on these small visits and began attempting to attract his attention. Whenever he came over, you started hanging out at the bar. Offering to make him special drinks. Talking about his interests , which you found out through intense stalking just to impress him. wearing revealing clothes, buying him his favorite food and snacks whenever you visit his office to pick up something for your father. You got very close to him. Your obsession with him became stronger because he seemed so nonchalant about your little tactics. The worst thing you have ever done was hire someone to break off one of his relationships. Only you were meant for him. No one else.
Hearing your father say that he would be there was another opportunity to impress him. You shot up. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS BEFORE???” You say as you rummage into your closet for the perfect dress. Your father believed that your attraction to Jungkook was innocent and similar to that of a child. You had always said you hated the smell of alcohol, so he thought it was strange for you to start hanging out at the bar. Despite noticing many changes, he dismissed them as 'innocence', so he expected you to join him if he mentioned Jungkook. He left your room with a satisfied smile on his lips. You finally found the dress. A satin spaghetti strap dress in black, his favorite color, with a dangerously low open back. The dress was revealing when you put it on; the side of your boob was peeking out, but it hugged your curves perfectly. As the time got closer, you finished up spraying on your most expensive perfume, taking a final look at yourself before leaving.
The party was classy. A huge venue with what appeared to be millions of waiters with champagne. Upon entering the venue with your family, your eyes immediately searched for Jungkook. It wasn't long before you spotted him in the middle of a small group. He seemed to notice your family and hurried towards all of you without delay. As he got closer, your heart was beating fast. “Hey hey! My man!” He said taking your dad into a tight hug. “You could have come a bit more later!” He said sarcastically, taking a jab at your dad’s late-coming habit. “Don't blame me! This one took too long!” Your dad exclaimed, hugging you by your side. Jungkook’s eyes landed on you. He stared you down. Taking in each and every curve, his eyes eventually landed on your chest before he looked at your face and smiled. “So glad you came! You look gorgeous tonight.” He said, taking in your hand and kissing the back of your palm slowly, in a sensual way, while deeply staring into your eyes. He pulled away and rubbed the skin with his thumb before giving you a smirk. You felt your insides melt and your brain malfunction at his simple gesture. You were frozen in place and didn’t know what to do. You shyly backed away and looked down , trying to hide your wide smile with your bangs, which Jungkook took notes on.
Time flew by as you watched Jungkook speak in front of the huge crowd with charisma and confidence. One of his best traits. He always caught everyone’s attention with his choice of words and tone. It was embarrassing for you to admit that, but it turned you on. Your legs were crossed, rubbing your thighs together from time to time, and no one seemed to notice, except for Jungkook, of course. He eyed you every time you made a small movement.
All the speeches and boring talks concluded, which made you run out onto the balcony for some fresh air. You stared off into the distance, thinking about what Jungkook had done to you earlier. Was it platonic? Was he just being nice? Does he have feeli- “did all those old men bore you out?” Jungkook was behind you. His voice husky. His lip and eyebrow piercing, shining under the moonlight. You were caught off guard and turned around to see ‘your man', “mr.jeon! Ugh you scared me!” You said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. He gets closer with a charming smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you!” He let out a soft chuckle. “How is your night going?” He asked you. “Hm? Oh good i guess, it’s kinda boring, but i would do anything for my father..” He chuckled and gave you a side eye. “For your father? Really?” it seemed like he knew the real reason why you were here in the first place. “Wdym really? I love my dad!” You said in a playful, offended tone. He chuckled once again. “Fine fine! I know how much you adore him.” You sighed softly and smiled.
“I like that dress on you. It suits you a lot.” He said while eyeing you. You blushed at his compliment, looking down and fiddling with your acrylic nails. “Thank you..” you mumbled under your breath. You feel him getting closer to you. “Sorry? I didn’t hear you, sweetheart.” His hands were on your hips, squeezing them softly. You froze in place. Heart beating faster. Your legs threatening to fall. His hands creeped towards your ass. Groping it softly, not wanting to seem too pushy. “Mr.jeon…-“ you let out a shaky whimper at his touch. “It’s jungkook for you, doll.” He said leaning in closer to your ears. He took a huge sniff of your neck and hair. “Thierry mugler alien eau de parfum? You have good taste.” He said while softly chuckling in your ears before pulling away. He lifted your chin so you can look at him. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you stared into his intoxicating eyes. “What did you want to say earlier?” You gulped before speaking up. “Thank you… jungkook.” He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. His hands went under your ears, caressing the soft skin gently. Your eyes widened, and you just stood there. “I’ll see you around okay?” He said smiling before he left. You were standing put, like a statue, your limbs refusing to move.
A few days went by, and you were still processing whatever happened with jungkook that night. His kiss. The way his hands caressed your body. His little nicknames. It was just too much to process. You didn’t see or hear much from jungkook since that day. There were small interactions, but he seemed to ignore you each time. You were starting to get worried. What happened? What did you do wrong? Did you fuck up? Does he hate you?. You never stopped overthinking.
One morning, you heard the familiar voice of Jungkook from the kitchen, laughing and giggling with your father. You quickly put on your clothes and dolled up, still hoping to impress him, before you went downstairs. “Ah! She’s finally awake! We were just talking about you!” Your father exclaimed. You observed jungkook as he sat on the kitchen island and ate what appeared to be lucky charms. His favorite cereal. He glanced at you briefly before turning away. You felt your heart shatter. After all that he did? Is this the way he treats you? . You walked past him and got yourself a glass of orange juice. “Did you sleepwell princess?” Your father inquired. Jungkook was still not looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the newspaper in front of him. “Yeah yeah i did.” You said putting on a fake smile. “Oh!” Your father exclaimed as he heard his phone ring. “Excuse me.” He said before rushing out of the kitchen.
You glared at jungkook and gulped down your orange juice before dropping the glass onto the table. Jungkook noticed your action, which made him put his newspaper aside and walk towards you. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning onto the island. “Hmph!” You huffed, turning around. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come onnn! Tell me.” He said while hugging your waist from the back. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back around. “What did I do wrong? Why do you keep doing this to me?” You asked. “Doing what?” “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know?” You said folding your arms. Jungkook had a confused look on his face. “You are ignoring me damn it!” “Ohhhhh! About that! I just didn’t have anything to say.” He said shrugging. You rolled your eyes at him. “Admit it, Jungkook, you just want to play with my feelings. You don’t care about me. You never did.” You let it all out. It was weird for you to act like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkooks eyes darkened, and he stared at you. You gulp. “You think I don’t care about you? Me? Not caring about you? You think i come to your house almost every other day for your father?” He said while pushing you down onto the island. He turned you around and hugged you close to his body; you could feel his clothed hard dick on your pussy. You shudder when he slowly grinds his hips into your behind. “Ya feel that doll? Thats how you got me everyday..” he said whispering into your ears. His free hand found your right tit before he gave it a squeeze. Tugging the thin white fabric of your crop top down to expose your hardened nipple. You hear him darkly chuckle in your ear before giving the sensitive bud a squeeze. His hips never seemed to stop as he continued dry-humping you. You felt yourself involuntarily lowering yourself on the island, pushing your ass back into him for more stimulation. He immediately pulls away, leaving you weak and clenching around absolutely nothing. You whined, turning around to face him with pleading eyes. “What?” He scoffed at how desperate you were. He got closer and fixed your shirt. He didn’t say anything and just rubbed your shoulders down before walking away.
A while later, you were napping in your bedroom. It was not uncommon for you to take naps in between the day since you were basically unemployed and didn’t have much to do, and you also needed one after what happened with jungkook.
All the blinds were shut, leaving the room completely dark. It was silent; the only sound that was heard was the faint noise of the air conditioner. You were in deep sleep and didn’t notice or hear Jungkook entering your room. You felt the bed sink next to you before you felt a cold hand on your hip. His hands, kneading the soft flesh of your ass before it grazed around your desperate cunt. You whine when you feel his fingers touch and draw circles on your sensitive part. “Shh..” he shushed you before pressing onto your pussy. He chuckles at how quickly you got wet. Your mouth was agape, soft grunts escaping every second. He slowly pushed you onto your stomach, climbing on top of you before pulling your pink panties to the side.
It was dark, and he couldn’t see much, but he could feel how soaked you were. He spread your cheeks and lowered his mouth down onto your cunt, sucking on it. Your eyes shot open, heavy breathing as you turned around to see the man of your dreams eat you out from behind. “Ju-jungkook..?” He shut you up by lapping his tongue over your dripping cunt. You let out a loud moan, your head falling sideways, already drooling even though he barely started. He lifted your ass up using his strong hands, making you arch your back. He dropped his head lower and started sucking on your clit, his big nose pressing into your soaking pussy. You grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pushed him closer. He hummed into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Loud slurping and squelching sounds, along with his groans and your moans, echoed throughout the room. You were seeing stars. The way his mouth ate you out and the feeling of his cold lip ring on your pussy were beyond comprehensible. Your heart started beating faster as you felt your body warm up, and a knot formed in your abdomen. Jungkook took notes on your body language and pulled away. You cried out when you lost contact.
He leaned in and switched on one of your bed lights, finally giving the room some light. He observed your body. Your ass was still up, your pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal. It was clenching and unclenching around nothing. He let out a scoff before turning you around. Your face already looked fucked out. Tears painted your cheeks, and drool was all over your mouth. He hovered over you, placing a hand on the headboard. He used his other hand to wipe your face clean. “We have gotten ourselves a good hour; better make this quick, alright?” You nodded softly and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a soft and tender kiss. He kissed you back and hugged you closely to his body. His hands went under your tee, squeezing your tit. You whined into the kiss. “You are so sensitive, sweetheart…” he mumbled. You break off the kiss and cup his face. “Jungkook… want more..” He tilted his head to the side and stared at you. He put on a smirk before standing at the foot of the bed.
He took off his pullover, revealing his tatted arms and toned abs and pecs. The soft bed light that was illuminating the room was able to capture every detail of his body. You stare. Hand in between your legs, squeezed shut. You bit your lip softly before your eyes met his. He gestured for you to come closer, which made you crawl to him. Your face was now right in front of his hard dick. You could see the bulge growing. His hand went behind your head, grasping your hair gently. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, which instantly made him fold, but he kept his composure. He gave you a nod, pushing your head closer to his crotch. Your nose nudged the bulge before your greedy fingers hastily unzipped his pants. Your eyes widened when his cock sprung out and hit his stomach. He was big. Girthy. The tip was red, and you could see his precum peaking from the slit. Without wasting time, you took a stripe from the base of his dick until the tip before you sucked on it. He hissed at the feeling of your plump lips sucking on his sensitive tip. He was starting to get impatient and pushed your head down, filling your mouth even though he was only half way in. You looked at him with teary eyes as you choked around his girth. He almost lost it when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours. His other hand caressed your cheek, pushing himself further down your throat. You could feel him. Your jaws were hurting, and you grabbed onto his hips for stability. Your throat spasmed around his cock. He noticed how you were kinda struggling. “Better make me feel good, okay? I want that throat to show me what it got.” With that, he started thrusting into your mouth. You started choking and gagging around his length, which just turned him on even more.
He yanked your head off of his cock. A string of pre cum and saliva connected your lips and his cock head. You looked up at him and whined, wanting his dick to stuff your mouth again. He bent down to your level before licking your chin clean, swallowing the mixture before speaking to you. “On your knees and hands, baby girl." You obliged immediately, taking off your flimsy tee before throwing your ass in the air and arching your back for him. You felt the bed dip behind you, and jungkooks long dick landed on your ass, slowly grinding through the sheer panties.His wet cock making it translucent. You whimpered, already feeling yourself getting hotter. “You are such a dumbslut.” He lowly chuckled.
“You think it wasn’t obvious?” He removed your skirt and ripped your panties. You gasp at his sudden action. “All these skimpy skirts and tops.. and just when I'm around? Were you that desperate, princess ?” He said while pushing his cockhead into your sopping hole.
You let out a loud moan; his tip was enough to stretch you out. “Not gonna lie… i was very flattered” gripping your ass cheeks as he slowly pushed further, letting you adjust to his size. He continued. “I only kept my cool because you were my best friend's daughter, but—holy shit-“ he gets cut off as you clench around his length, tears already dripping down your face. Your mind fogging up. You were constantly letting out soft moans and whimpers as he slowly bottomed down into you. “Woah there-“ he chuckled. “im not even half way in sweetheart” he said while grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. You looked at him with teary eyes. Lips quivering. He smirked before kissing your cheek. He let go of your hair and pushed your head down into the pillow using his hand. The other hand was on your hip as he finally pushed all the way in. “Since you are begging for it— ” you let out a loud scream as he filled you to the brim.
Although it was painful, the pleasure made you forget about the pain. you felt warm spit fall on your pussy as he starts moving. “Gon’ fuck you silly, alright? Isn’t that what you wanted? Getting dicked down by your father's friend? What a whore…” You nodded incoherently. A loud cry left your lips as his hips thrust into you harshly. His pace was slow, but the way he thrust in was so... Your body was moving forward with every thrust. Sounds of wet skin slapping echoed through your room. You were not able to focus on anything. His pace increased, and so did the harshness of his thrust. You clenched around him, making him fall forward. He caged your tiny body under his larger one. “Fuck babygirl.. you are gonna rip my dick off..” he chuckled. “Jungk-kook… feels too good…” you managed to blabber out as he fucked into you like a madman. “Yeah? you like that? You liked getting fucked by older men, dont you sweatheart?” You whined as his large hands gripped your hair.
This was wrong. Very wrong. This man has seen you grow up. He has been there since you were a baby.
“Let me hear those pretty sounds…” he said while landing a tight slap on your ass, reddening the area almost immediately. You gasped and whimpered, letting out a loud pornographic moan as Jungkook hit a specific spot. His other hand found your swollen clit and started drawing rough circles on it. Pinching and tugging the abused nub. Your legs trembled, and your moans got louder. “F-fuck! Jungkook…don’t s-stop! Feels so good!” You babbled. Jungkooks eyes were focused on your pussy. The way you took in his length. Your milky white cream coated his entire length, collecting at the base of his cock.
He stopped thrusting in you for a moment. You whined as you felt him suddenly stop. Jungkook smirked before leaning over and whispering in your ears. “Fuck yourself on me, doll.” You cried in defeat. Jungkook placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to start moving. You gulped before slowly rocking your body forward and backward. You could feel his every inch penetrating the insides of your gummy walls. His large tip hitting your cervix over and over again. “Thats all you can do? Wow.. so pathetic..” he scoffed. You shook your head furiously and started going faster. Jungkook let out a satisfied groan as he watched your ass ripple. “Play with that little clit of yours.” He commanded. You reached down in between your legs, finding the sensitive nub almost immediately. You slowly rubbed your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned out as the stimulation of your pussy and clit was getting overwhelming. You fucked yourself faster on his cock. Mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes crossed as his cock hit your gspot every time you moved in and out. Jungkook was in a different world. His eyebrows were furrowed, and sweat dripped down his neck. He was close to cumming just by seeing you fuck yourself on him.
His hands spread your ass cheeks, before a glob of spit landed on your asshole. You shuddered and panicked, stopping for a moment. “J-jungko-?” “Just focus on fucking yourself; everything is going to be alright…” he reassured you. You nodded before going back. His long fingers toyed with your rim. You grunt when you feel his fingers prod into your asshole. “Shh- shh.. youre safe .. jus’ wan’ try something new..” You gulped and shut your eyes tightly as his fingers ventured further into your asshole. He shoved three of his fingers into you, making you moan out loud. “Fuckkkkk- so tight…” he whispered. You melt and crumble when you feel his fingers move inside of you. You buried your head in your pillow, muffling out any unholy noise.
Your pussy and asshole clenched around his fingers and dick, making him groan. “So damn sensitive… has any guy fucked you, this good princess?” You shake your head. “N-no sir …” Jungkook shot up at the name. His fingers increasing in speed. You let out choked-out moans and cries as his fingers curled inside your asshole. “Say that again, will ya?” His other hand found your hips and started stretching your pussy out again. “Please.. f-fuck me harder… sir.” That was all it took to make Jungkook go feral. His cock left your pussy and was immediately shoved inside your sensitive ass. Your eyes shot out, and you couldn’t make any noise as you looked back at jungkook with tears rolling down your cheeks. He pinned your wrists behind your back before moving in and out. He struggled, initially. curse him for not stretching you out more, but his cream-coated cock provided enough lube for him to start pounding into you smoothly. “Shits so fucking tight- gah-“ your lips quivered and legs trembled as Jungkook fucked into you with great strength.
You screamed out, finally getting your voice back after he fully plunged his cock into you. Your cunt was leaking arousal, dripping down your thighs. Jungkook didnt seem to stop. His heavy, cum-filled balls were slapping against your pussy. “Jungkoook…- its too- too much!” You cried out. “Take it. You are a big girl. Take it like a big girl. I know you fucking can. Look at your little ass sucking me in. So good. So fucking good.” He pulled your body back and pounded into you. Your face was a mess. You cried and moaned like a bitch in heat every time he filled you to the brim. You felt your orgasm approaching as the feeling of the familiar knot in your stomach began growing. “Jung-jungkook- gon’ cum…” you whined. “Go on princess… be a good girl and cum all over me..” you nodded weakly, focusing on reaching your high. Jungkook flipped you over, laying you down on your back. His hands pushed your legs up against your chest. You were in ecstasy as the new position had you seeing stars. You observed Jungkook's sweaty body and fucked-out face.
A slap was landed on your glistening, sopping pussy before two fingers were shoved inside them. His thumb stimulating your clit. “Ngh- oh fuck- jungkook m’ so close…!” Your eyebrows were knit together, and sweat dripped down your face. The overstimulation getting too intense. Both his hips and hands increased their pace, determined to help you reach your high. You saw white as Jungkook pressed down on your sensitive bud. Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy and landed on his abdomen. You screamed as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Yeah.. just like that.. so dirty.. you are such a dirty little girl..” Jungkook's movements got sloppier. Your orgasm turned him on by a mile, and he was close to cumming himself. You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, not noticing that he had slipped out of you and was furiously jerking himself off. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out all over your body. Coating your stomach and your boobs. You moan as you feel his hot cum land on your body, taking the mixture in your shaky fingers and licking it off while staring into his eyes. Jungkook smirked at you with half-lidded eyes.
“My dirty little girl."
A/N: HEHE THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGG! how was it tho? This would have been a stepcest fic but i changed my mind in the middle 🙁💔 im currently writing fics from my inbox! You can send in your rqs <3
#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ yun’s silly fics#bts#bts reactions#bts smut#bts x reader#bts army#bts fanfic#bts headcanons#bts scenarios#jeon jungkook#jungkook headcanons#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook reaction#jungkook scenarios#jungkook smut#bts jungkook#jungkook#jeongguk#jeon jungguk#kpop hard hours#kpop headcanons#kpop smut#kpop
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The Smell of Home
Damian had noticed the new student in his school.
Not because he was new or how he looked
no, not any of the usual reasons someone would grab peoples attention.
Weirdly enough it was his scent, which was really weird. He usually didn't take notice of how people smell besides the usual just like anyone else.
But something about the smell that seemed to emanate from this new student who he had learned his name was Danny Fenton, just would not leave his mind.
He knew the smell but couldn't remember from where and it was just at the tip of his tongue, it was driving him crazy.
His family seemed to notice him become more irritable from usual.
But not around Fenton, he seemed to unconsciously calm down in his presence, which just made him suspicious and more irritated.
It wasn't until he woke up from a dream of memories from when he was little and still living with his mom that he realized what he was smelling.
The Lazarus Pits.
He grew up with that smell, it used to hang around the entire area and buildings.
He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had smelled it
He unconsciously related it to the smell of his childhood home.
But why would this random boy give off that very same odor?
Some investigating needed to be done.
~
Danny had noticed one of his classmates a boy he learned was called Damian seemed to act ...odd?
But only around him it seemed
With everyone else he was normal if a bit cold.
He would seem to relax an then suddenly tense up and send him a suspicious glare.
Also he was pretty sure that the boy seemed to be sniffing him?
Did he smell bad or something?
Why was he the only one who he seemed to act weird with.
Oh God, maybe he thought the smell of ecto was weird?
But that's not something he could control and most people never even seemed to notice the smell of ecto he produced since he became a halfa.
~
Damian glaring at Danny every time he realizes he's relaxed
Danny: "What did I do!?"
~
Batfam notices Damian being extra grouchy :" Ah, he's going through his rebellious phase"
~
Danny: "Did you just sniff mE!"
Damian: *scoff* "Don't be absurd"
~
Damian stealing Danny's clothes to analyze
Danny: " Who keeps taking my stuff?!"
Batfam: "Damian we know you're growing and experiencing new things, but stealing the things especially clothes from your crush is crossing boundaries"
Damian: "This is a misunderstanding, I don't have a crush on anyone!"
Bruce: "Son I think it's time I give you 'The Talk TM', I have an entire slideshow and docume-"
Damian: "This family is a nightmare!"
~
Just an Idea
#dp x dc#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#batman#danny fenton#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#dp#damian#damian wayne#ectoplasm#ecto#lazarus pit#bruce wayne#bruce is so done#batfamily#bat shenanigans#batfam#they're Sophomores so like in 10th grade so like 15/16
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i could eat that girl for lunch… (ellie williams)
ways you can help gaza🇵🇸
summary: you post cute pictures on your story in the hopes of gaining a certain girl’s attention… luckily you get more than what you anticipated ;)
cw: mdni, fem!reader, texting, cunnilingus, desperate top!ellie, teasing sub!reader, cannibalistic metaphors, cursing, ellie is goofy lmao
you’re this close to screaming. the winged eyeliner on your left eye somehow keeps fucking up; either looking too splotchy or shorter than your right one. what’s pissing you off the most is the fact that you aren’t even going anywhere… getting all dolled up just to take it all off in 15 minutes, just to post cute little photos on your story and, of course, just to get her attention.
ellie williams. the name rolled off your tongue with such velvety sleek. every single one of your friends knows her name; has had to endure through your countless obsessive gushes.
you two had met during a party. having been in a drunken haze, you barely remember the first conversation that sparked such an interest, but you do remember her gin breath against your ear: asking/shouting, amidst the blaring music, if you had wanted to go somewhere a little more quieter. the night ended up in you being fingered in her car, before being driven back home by her. a freckle-faced angel in a leather jacket coated with small pins and badges. you were immediately hooked. but it’s been a week since then, and you two haven’t spoken. having achieved her number, you thought of messaging, but didn’t want to come across as desperate, even though you so are.
you thank instagram suggested for bringing you her account on a platter; being filled with niche, introverted posts of every cool-looking thing but her face. she doesn’t even have a “me” highlights! you can’t tell if her lack in posting her face is a blessing or a curse. so here you are, getting ready to post on your story since you followed her the day before. the skin around your eye is starting to sting by the amount of times you’ve been wiping and restarting your eyeliner. it needs to be perfect. you’ve orchestrated all this to be perfect. you take a deep breath and focus, striving to get the perfect wing.
“thank fuck.” you murmur under your breath once you finally get it right, before enveloping your lips in lipstick. you admire yourself in the mirror once done. you look fucking amazing.
since you spent way too long putting on your makeup, it wouldn’t be fair to yourself to only post one picture, so you post a couple. a mirror picture following up a layout of 4 images with the perfect song in the background. a little smile tugs at your lips as you replay the story two, three, four times before setting it on do not disturb and finding something else to do. your heart pounds at the thought of ellie seeing it, praying that she’ll interact. even a simple like will do.
after removing your makeup and getting into your pyjamas, you click on a movie to pass time, setting your phone on do not disturb. half an hour passes, and you’ve been neurotically checking your phone for a sign of ellie to appear on your notifications, but nothing. you check your story to see if she’s seen it but again, nothing. another hour passes, and you check for any sign of ellie. nada. look at my story, you freak! are the words etched in your head, words you wished you could telepathically scream at her. you remember you set your phone on do not disturb for a reason, so you place it far away and focus on finishing the film.
a while later, you’re slumped on your couch on the verge of falling asleep. the movie’s ended and it was so boring that you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open. you decide to check your do not disturb notifications one last time before taking a nap, until your eyes fall on the name ‘ellie.’ you immediately jerk up, awake and alert: your thumb automatically pressing the notification centre so you can see what it reads.
seventeen minutes ago.
ellie liked your story
ellie liked your story
ellie replied to your story: doll face
ellie replied to your story: you need a seat? lemme volunteer 🙏🙏
a shit-eating grin lights up your face. fucking finally! not once but twice! you excitedly draw your knees up to your chest, eager fingers tapping away, ready to respond - regardless of how long you’d been waiting for her texts. play it cool….
y/n: hahaha thank u thank u <3
y/n: (replied) oh word?
you’re surprised and very happy when you see the ‘typing…’ your heart doing goddamn backflips.
ellie: wooooord
ellie: literally cannot stop replaying ur story… bring that over here 🙁
ellie: come over
!!! your heart sinks all the way down to your ass. the hell does she mean come over?
y/n: ur not serious lmaoaoaooa
ellie: i’m being deadass,,, come over.
you look at the time. it’s almost 1 in the morning.
y/n: idek where u live bru😭😭😭😭
y/n: if anything you should come over since you’ve driven me to my house b4
ellie: mmm nahhhh
you blink in disbelief when ellie sends her location over. she’s not kidding.
y/n: girl i look bummy… i don’t even have any makeup on anymore :< took it off
ellie: i really don’t care
ellie: plsplspsls come over
ellie: u won’t regret it……………. trust 🤓🤓
next thing you know you’re leaving your house in your plaid shorts and a silly graphic tee. thankfully, ellie only lives 10 minutes away, so you take a bus before walking up to her apartment.
y/n: i’m cominggg
ellie: LOL yeaa you will be coming real soon 😇😇😇
though you cringe at her text, your body betrays you; your stomach forming a deep pit. she’s so sultry and playful you don’t know even know what to think. and there goes your heart again, hastily beating away like there’s no tomorrow. you reach the door, a trembling hand raising up to knock.
“hi.” ellie beams, smiling like an idiot. her eyes seize you from head to toe, “nice fit.”
“told you i looked bummy...” you mumbled, trying your best not to seem nervous. ellie moves aside so you can come in. her apartment smells exactly like she does; that faint campfire scent, conjoined with a forest-ey musk. a forest fire you were more than willing to burn in.
“so…“ you begin, with nothing prepared to follow up after that.
“sooooooo….” ellie repeats blithely.
“it’s been a week since… you know…” you whisper, awkwardly shifting your legs.
“since…?” ellie blinks, furrowing her eyebrows. she’s taunting you, trying to play innocent when it’s pretty fucking obvious what you’re on about.
“the party.” you respond, entertaining her coyness for no reason.
“party?” ellie pretends to think, looking up at nothing. “oh!! yeah… jesse’s one.” she smirks.
you smirk back, furrowing your eyebrows in amusement. “you could do so much better at playing dumb, y’know…”
“you think so?” ellie narrows her eyes, tilting her head as she steps closer. the impish smirk on her face never leaves. she’s having fun. you both are.
“yup. for your own good, don’t choose acting as a career.”
“for my own good?”
“for your own good.” you haven’t even realised how close you two are to each other now, daring eyes locked with another pair of daring eyes. takes one to know one. a silence permeated with tension fills the room.
“c’mere…” ellie finally mumbles before cupping your face with both hands and bringing you in for a kiss. you’re quick to melt in her grasp, your hand finding it’s way to ellie’s hair, giving it a playful tight squeeze that elicits a quiet groan from her. her hands, those goddamn hands, then move to your waist, pulling you closer. you two don’t even waste time before you’re making out with such fervor. save the sweetness for later, it’s the hunger that’s on display for now. the memory of her lips were starting to slip away from your mind and you’re glad you’re here to reboot it.
once you pull away, ellie’s eyes drift to something behind you. you follow her gaze, only for your eyes to land on a chair in the middle of the goddamn living room. it’s so random that you can’t help but burst out laughing.
“why is there a chair?” you ask in the midst of your laughing fit. it’s not even that funny, but the laughing is helping with your nerves.
“it’s for you.” ellie giggles too, a light pink tint on her cheeks that’s hard to miss.
“me?” you blink rapidly, your gaze darting from the chair to ellie, “do i sit?” you ask stupidly.
“no, you stand.” sarcasm laces her tone, as she giggles a little more, “go sit.”
“don’t order me around like i’m your dog.” you respond playfully, but you do as she says. despite your ‘tough’ front, you’d do anything she’d tell you to. guess she was being literal about offering you a seat…
ellie grins down at you, angling your chin up so you’re looking at her. you can feel the heat start to prickle in your face, down your neck and pervading the rest of your body. her thumb traces along your bottom lip, slightly dragging it down. there’s that same darkened look she had back in her car, one that makes you feel so small.
“so cute… like a human deer.” she murmurs distractedly, almost like she’s talking to herself instead of you. your head grows fuzzy, blushing even more. you mindlessly squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the growing heat in between. ellie notices.
“you doing okay?” she softly asks, unable to mask the smug look on her face. you nod quietly. with her eyes kept on you, she lowers down until she’s on her knees, her smile growing. she kisses the top of both your kneecaps in such a tender way it sends tingles down your spine.
“can i eat you?” she breathes, her voice hollow and needy. it takes a second for those words to register in your brain.
“you…” you trail off. ellie’s gaze is very, very distracting. so intense and intrusive. she patiently waits for your answer, resting her chin on top of your knees. how can someone look so adorable and intimidating at the same time?
“please?” she adds, and you smile. a realisation has just dawned on you: you like to make her wait.
“eat me?” you cock your head to the side in feigned confusion. now it’s your turn to play dumb.
“yeah… like, your pussy.” ellie mumbles, becoming so desperate that it’s funny. she needed to be humbled at least a little. “i want a taste…”
“yeah?” you mock, and ellie’s face warps into a frown. “stop teasing me.”
“it’s only payback.” you shrug.
“for what?” ellie whines.
“for taking a week to text me.”
ellie stares at you for a moment. “then let me make it up to you…” her eyes travel down to your clamped thighs, wanting to open them up so bad. truth is, you’d let her devour you. chew you up like a deranged creature and watch her greedily lick the blood from her fingers. but teasing her was just so damn fun.
“aren’t your knees getting tired?” you tease, cupping the side of her face as she stares up at you with puppy eyes. it’s getting hard to resist. ellie immediately shakes her head.
“for you? never.” she whispers. your grin broadens in satisfaction. such sweet words. meaningless? maybe, but cute nonetheless.
“fine…” you sigh, leaning back and gesturing for ellie to go forth. ellie’s face lights up like a bulb, eagerly parting your legs. the movement makes you shiver, as you can feel the heated moisture of your arousal seep through your underwear. despite your shorts still being on, ellie’s lips travel up, both hands gripping your sides as her lips leave fond, wet kisses along your inner thigh. her teeth clench around the hem of your shorts, letting out a muffled chuckle as she playfully pulls your shorts down with her teeth. she’s kidding around but that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life.
you adjust your knees so that your shorts can be pulled down. you’re so wet your underwear is fucking see-through. you just know she’s about to say something.
“someone’s real excited-“
“shut up and keep going.” you hastily cut her off out of embarrassment. ellie laughs, glancing at you one more time before leaning back down again, dragging her ardent tongue up your inner thigh. you gasp quietly, and that little noise influences her to do more, letting out a sigh of her own; the sort of sigh you do when relaxing in a hot bath, or when pissing after holding it in for so long… like she’s needed this. you’re startled when ellie drags her tongue right in the center of your clothed heat, your breath hitching. you want more.
ellie’s teasing is relentless and mean. she sucks your clit through your underwear, eyes on you; observing the way your hips are desperately buckling up, the way your thighs are twitching.
“so mean…” you whine as ellie flicks and rolls her tongue against your underwear.
“did you want something?” ellie blinks. again with the coyness. you scowl and ellie grins in return.
“you can’t outdo the do-er, babe.” she chirps, pulling the drenched underwear off your legs. she opens your legs wide, staring at your pussy like it’s the best piece of artwork she’s ever seen. you can practically see sparkles in her eyes. you shiver when you feel her fingers pry your cunt open.
“so fucking hungry for you…” she whispers, her breathing shallow and her eyes glazed-over. she gets to work immediately, a firm trail up your vulva before kissing it with her lips. a fleshed moan doesn’t fail to escape your own lips, as your eyes flutter shut. of course she’d be good at this.
ellie moans too, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer, burying her face in between your legs as she goes to town on you. she’s moving like she’s starving, like she hasn’t eaten for weeks and has been presented with a banquet.
her lips tug at your folds, your pussy slick with a mixture of your arousal and her spit. every single time her lips hit your clit it elicits yet another strong reaction from you. she’s so vigilant that she’s quick to notice that that’s your most delicate spot, so she abuses it; kissing it and pulling on it, her head shaking as she pleases you with her tongue. you nourish her with hushed praises: ones like “yes, yes…” or “you’re doing so good” to keep her going. it fuels ellie like no other, and drives her to go harder, a little faster.
her movements are so consistent and perfect that you could froth in the mouth right here and now. you grip her hair tightly, and ellie adores it: groaning happily when you squeeze too tight. you mindlessly push ellie’s head closer to your pussy, feeling the tip of her nose buried in. your moans begin to crescendo. you’re in fucking ecstasy.
“getting close, are we?” ellie pants, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow, teasing drags as she resumes sucking on your cunt.
“i’m gonna cum… i’m cumming… e-ellie…” you babble, tears threatening to pour; and it isn’t just the eye tears we’re talking about here…
“yeah? you gonna let yourself go?” ellie stares up at you, her voice a little higher and breathier. her face is warped into one of pleasure, like she’s the one being fucked.
“yeah… please ellie, i’m really close…” you whine: barely coherent, light tears streaming down your face. ellie chuckles at how adorable you look, taking a second to appreciate how good you look when needy. she dives back in, her nails digging into your thigh as her mouth moves with the perfect vigour to push you off the edge. and oh, you do.
one last strong lick gets you off: your spine bending backwards, same as your head as you let out a strangled scream. you grip her hair tightly, your eyes momentarily rolling to the back of your head as ellie purposely continues to extend the high a little bit. eventually, she pulls back. the both are you are completely out of breath - huffing and panting like dogs.
you slump back in your chair, completely out of it and in a daze. ellie smiles.
“you okay?” she murmurs, appreciating your cute, spent look. you nod quietly in response.
“fuck, my knees.” she mumbles, before sitting back and stretching them. you laugh a little.
“there was no need for the chair.” you reply.
“i know… but i wanted to. it was hot.”
“it was.” you smile. you’re glad you decided to get dolled up for your story tonight.
a/n: i’m back! i’ve been so caught up in school that i haven’t been able to post fics as much but i’ll try 2 be more active :33 i’m absolutely obsessed with billie’s lunch so i made an ellie fic based off of it. hope u enjoyed and if u have any requests leave them in the ask inbox !!!
#ellie williams smut#ellie williams#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#tlou2#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou2#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#tlou2 smut#lesbian#ellie williams fanfic#ellie x you#ellie williams x reader#smut#ellie smut#billie eilish#lesbian smut
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