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randompandabaewrites · 2 days

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Helpless in Her Hold

//The Drow twins' proposition of Tav surfaces some insecurities for Astaron. Hurt/Comfort, angst but happy ending. CW: Unhealthy relationship to sex/sexuality, identity issues. Not edited... Song Rec: Supposed to Be (Acoustic) By Icon for Hire//

Astarion x f!Tav, Canonish, Act 3

2.1k

Astarion watched, helpless, with his dead heart in his throat as the drow twins propositioned Tav. His Tav. He want to growl it and glower until no one else in this pleasure den deigned to offer their services.

Why did she have to be such a lure for elven whores?

Astarion leaned back against the wall, hardly resisting the urge to fold his arms and sulk in plain view of the whole party. He wasn’t a child whose toy was being played with—and yet, the brightness of her eyes and the laugh on her lips had him wanting to pout and whinge like a toddler.

“I appreciate the offer, I do, but I must decline.” Tav shook her head. Though personally the vampire thought she could be a little more rude in her rejection.

Because the damn twins were were still giving her looks that were far too inviting. Not that Tav saw, because her eyes had landed back on him, and Astarion was just thanking his lucky stars he’d perfected the mask he wore.

“Is that your partner?” The female drow asked, her smile making disgust creep up his spine—it was easy to see where this was going. “We’d be happy to have you both.”

“My dear, I’m afraid you’d be the one parting with your gold.” A high laugh slipped from Astarion’s lips. “And, I do doubt you could afford me.”

He saw the twins’ mirrored expressions of bewilderment turn to glee for only a flash before Tav was excusing herself from them. Swiftly stepping over to him with—that damnable look on her face.

Oh he knew those eyes, so drawn with her concern and on the verge of pity. Tav looked like that when she was about to do something so dreadfully kind it might make him wretch.

And he could not be the broken toy when she was being offered two shiny new ones.

“Astarion—” Tav began in that tone, and he had to preempt her.

“I know pet, tempting as it is, I simply must decline.”

“Yeah?” Tav utterly confounded him with that lifted smile. “That’s good.”

“Good..?” Astarion asked, his mind trying to race ahead. Find the traps and disarm them before they sprung.

She’d preached to him over and over again about his choice, and what he wanted and how that mattered to her for some reason.

Only for him to make a decision about the drow for her.

Shit.

It was a test. It had to be. She respected his choices, now he was expected to reciprocate.

“Ah I see.” Astarion inclined his head to her, a salacious smile on his lips. “You haven’t had much attention lately…it has been a while for us.”

Tav blinked, and then those bright eyes were on his, searching him out. The pale elf would cling to the façade by the skin of his fangs, if it meant he could keep her.

She turned, and Astarion prepared for the feeling of a stake through his heart.

“Well, if my partner isn’t interested, neither am I.” Tav brushed off the twins’ advances with as much grace as one could muster. Until they finally had the tact to move to other potential patrons.

She was already leading the way out of Sharess’ Caress before Astarion had recovered from his shock.

The cold night air near Baulder’s Gate finally woke him.

“You could have gone with them, you know.” He blurted, wondering why in the Hells she hadn’t. It wasn’t like he was satiating her hungers.

Astarion felt Tav shrug her shoulder through their linked hands. “I’m not interested in any little tryst if it’s at your expense.”

She said it so simple, so easy, as if it were hardly worth a second thought.

Astarion’s mind was still reeling, but he put on a smirk. “Stop being so kind to me; it almost makes me want to return the favor.”

As if it were a debt he could ever repay her.

…

Hours later, Tav lay in her darkened room, sleep evading her. The soft click of a lock being picked made her tense, hand instinctively grasping the dagger beneath her pillow. But the familiar silhouette slipping through the door made her relax.

"Hello, my darling," Astarion purred as he approached, her darkvision letting her see how his ruby eyes glinted. “Haven’t you gotten accustom to me creeping into your bed?”

"It has been a moment since you came looking for a cuddle?" Tav teased softly, tilting her head. His appearance at this hour had her wondering. The dark of night and hushed voices already strummed tension in the air between them.

“I do seek…something akin to that.”

Astarion perched on the edge of the bed, long fingers skimming up her bare arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Despite all her thoughts trying to tame her reaction, for now.

"I merely wished to express my gratitude, my sweet. For standing by me, even knowing what I am. What I've done. And what I haven’t."

“What you…haven’t?” Her half-awake mind might be jumping to conclusions, surely. Twining their fingers together, Tav brought his hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. "You never have to thank me for that."

Astarion's eyes shimmered suspiciously in the darkness before he blinked it away, his trademark smirk back in place. "I want to thank you," he purred, “Won’t you, let me?”

He moved then, pressing her back into the soft pillow she’d been having trouble sleeping on after so many nights spent in the dirt.

Though the familiar weight of him was already making the bed more appealing. Now, just like every time he fed from her, he cradled her skull and tilted her head back so tenderly. It was comforting, it was an intimate moment she was happy to share with him.

His eyes didn’t meet hers as he ducked his head. Usually he lingered, to make sure Tav was alright before his fangs pierced her flesh. So why did she feel lips caressing her neck?

Her fingers slid into his hair, trying to get a grip on herself as much as she was on his curls.

“Star, what’s going on?”

The chuckle he gave was at the base of her neck, lips and tongue teasing at her collarbones in a way that made her skin tingle.

“Returning the favor.” He purred. “You deserve it.”

Tav swallowed under his clever mouth, trying to hear what her mind was screaming at her before it could be drowned out by the sweet words and sweeter lips.

Suddenly his face was swimming before hers, still not letting her catch his eye as he cupped her cheek. “So very few people get what they deserve—you, as always, should be the exception.”

Astation, with his ethereal beauty and perfect words, had her stunned. It wasn’t until he lowered his mouth to hers that her mind caught up.

“I don’t deserve anything you don’t wish to give.” Tav managed against his mouth, giving a gentle tug to his hair to get him to pull back.

“My sweet…I very much wish to give.”

That silver tongue slipped right past her protesting lips.

…

The elf was certain he had her when those hands slipped from his hair to cup his face in her palms. Her thumbs stroked over his high cheekbones.

“Astarion, wait.” Tav breathed.

He stilled, pulling back, fear flickering over his features as he was sure he’d somehow hurt her—when he saw it.

That damnable look in her eyes.

“Wait—we’ve done nothing but the waiting.” He snapped.

And Tav, damn her, gave a softer look still. “I’m willing to wait longer, as long as it takes.”

Astarion's posture stiffened, his back becoming an iron rod as he sat upright. "Is that how you see me then?" He couldn't keep the defensive edge from seeping into his voice. Drawing it like a blade when he felt his throat was bared.

"All shattered on the inside? Some broken doll you no longer play with? Am I to be put on a shelf and never touched again?"

“Astarion, you aren’t—” She moved to touch him, but he rose abruptly, evading her reach.

He didn’t even know why he did it. But the way her hand fell back to the bed, dejected, hurt him just as the pain he saw on her face.

"I know you aren’t fragile," Tav said with conviction, eyes pleading for him to understand.

“Then what? Am I some charity case to you? Is that what you get off on?”

Astarion hated it the moment he said it. But, the fangs showed whenever vulnerability crept up on him.

She stayed silent, and he had to fill that void before it consumed him.

“I’m not some delicate boy with a broken heart. I have wants. And I can see that you have them too. So, why not?”

“Is that what you want?” Tav smothered his outrage like a blanket over a campfire.

His shoulders sagged under the weight of his uncertainty.

“I don’t know.” The words barely escaped his lips before they broke apart into whispers of self-doubt. “Gods, I don’t know how to do any of this.” A frustrated hand raked through his white curls.

He wanted her. He wanted to see her looks of want and he wanted to be the one to fulfill her desires.

He wanted to keep her.

She sat up, legs hanging off the bed. And his eyes were drawn to the bare skin of her thighs exposed by her loose sleep clothes.

“Astarion, what do you want?”

He stared down at her, red eyes probing for a hint of the right answer. What did she want him to say? He would say it.

But Tav held without giving an inch.

“Why do you always ask the most difficult things?”

"I’m sorry." she whispered back.

"Don’t. I want—no, I need to know that I am still wanted by you." The confession fell from his lips like a plea. "You who’ve given me so much and seen broken I am. You who’ve made me wonder if I do indeed have any pieces left of my own soul…” The words were on his tongue, but his throat constricted around baring his neck one last time. “Do you still want me?”

“I will always want you.” Tav’s reply came without hesitation or doubt.

Either he had gotten to sloppy to see it—or there was simply no guile in her.

Tav reached out, her hand finding his where he stood frozen. He could feel the tension coursing through him—an all too familiar vulnerability that he constantly tried to suppress.

“Then let me give you something in return.” He dropped to his knees before her, desperation etched into every feature. .“Please, Tav.”

She lifted the hand she held, cupping it in both of hers, before she pressed his touch against her chest. And he had a moment to hope, that maybe, she would just let him give a fraction of what she’d given him.

“You’ve given me everything already, my heart.”

A scornful snort burst from him, everything in him prepared to banish her romanticized drivel with a dose of reality.

“This,” Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt over his chest. “Past the petty armor you wear. Beneath the pretty face and clever tongue,” She yanked him close before he could quip back.“That is what you give me; parts of you that you’ve given to no one else.”

When he looked at her then, he had no idea what she might see, even if he could use a mirror.

“Your kindness, your hurt, your wants. The truth of you. That’s what I want.”

“I can’t give—“ Astarion couldn’t get this damn silver tongue of his around a his words. “I don’t know what that is…who I am.”

“Then we can both find out. That’s all I ask of you.”

He swallowed hard as her words left him parched and speechless. The notion that he might still have something to offer, a piece of himself that was untouched.

Astarion found himself staring at her, wonder and disbelief battling for dominance in his gaze.

A gentleness tugged at Tav's lips. And for a fleeting moment, Astarion dared to believe that perhaps he could have this.

He moved up, but only to wrap his arms around her. To engulf her in his embrace. Just as that night when she wrapped her arms around him, and first showed him that there was affection, there was closeness, without the expectation of more.

Astarion would be just fine if he was helpless in her arms.

#Well its not just fluff this time #“tell me who I'm supposed to be now”#“Make me better”#“I can't stay halfway dead forever”#astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #tav #astarion x female tav #astarion angst #astarion fic #icon for hire

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eddiesxangel · 2 days

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Give Me Everything | E.M x PlusSize!Reader

Anonymous requested: I was wondering if you could do a story on a plus size best friend reader.. who was asked out by a jock on a dare or who Eddie walks into her room to see her sitting on the floor upset because her favourite dress is getting tight.. and he shows her how much he loves her body even if she can't see it... Maybe with like a praise/breeding kink.. or whatever you want to do 😁🫠👉👈 Recently went through a weight gain, and I'm so hard on myself.

AN: As a plus-size girly myself, I got you bbg. 😚

CW: bestfrined!Eddie x f!reader, self-loathing, self-depreciation, weight gain, body image, Eddie is a big ol' simp, soft dom, praise, oral, p in v, breeding kink, creampies, Pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl etc.)

wc: 3k

When the former basketball team captain ran into you at the local bar and asked you out, you were hesitant to say yes.

Your body never bothered you…until it did. The perks, your tits never looked better; the downside was you felt big. You’re still getting used to this new body, the body that you didn’t like.

Maybe your favourite dress would be the thing to help. So you dug into the depths of your closet. It has been a while since you’ve even attempted to put it on. The summer months were finally here; you could use this pick-me-up.

You stepped into the A-line skirt. So far, so good. When you tried to bring the straps up, things took a turn. It felt so tight; it dug into your soft flesh, your skin popped out around the straps, and the buttons in the front weren’t even close enough together to do up. You turn to see the taught fabric surrounding your back, all lumpy with back rolls.

Silent tears start to shed as you look at yourself in the full-length mirror. You never even heard the knock on your door or the lock click when your best friend entered your home with his copy of the key. You didn’t see how Eddie’s face dropped when he saw you criticizing every inch of your body. The way his heart broke when he saw your tear-stained cheeks in the reflection of the mirror.

Eddie knew you had a date. He came for moral support and to maybe convince you not to go for his own personal reasons.

He was shocked when you revealed the name of the guy who had asked you out. Jason Carver. Number one douchebag of class of ‘87. He thought you were joking, but you didn’t grow up in Hawkins; you moved here after college. No way you would have known the country club- bible-thumping moron was his arch-nemesis all those years ago.

“Y/N”

You jumped when the soft whisper of Eddie’s voice filled the room.

“Eddie, I didn’t hear you come in.” You quickly try to wipe away the tears, embarrassed that he saw you like this, looking like this.

You quickly grab your oversized t-shirt and pull it over your head to cover up your shame.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You’re quick to reply.

“Don’t do that, you always do that. Tell me what’s wrong.” He gently takes your hand and pulls you to the bed.

“It’s so embarrassing.” Your voice cracks, and you want to die.

“It’s me we are talking about, babe; nothing you can do is embarrassing.”

Eddie was right; you shared everything. He knew all of your deepest, darkest secrets. All of them, but this one.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before speaking.

“I’m no model, I’m not the size I use…” You look down, and you are not able to finish your sentence. It hurt too much to say out loud. "Nothing fits me anymore." You mumble.

“What?” He stroked the back of your head, trying to calm you.

“Nothing fits me anymore!” You break.

“So we will buy new clothes.”

“That’s not-ugh. You don’t get it,” he would never understand.

“Then tell me.”

“I never used to be like this.” You gestured to yourself.

“Like what?”

“Big!”

“You’re not big”

“Eddie… stop. I am… I just wanted to put on my favourite dress to feel better about myself, but now it doesn’t fit me anymore.” You sniffle.

“Y/N.” your name fell off of Eddie’s lips-laced with such sorrow.

“And now I have to find something to wear for this date in two hours, and I have nothing. I don’t even know if I like the guy, but he’s the first one who asked me out in a year, and I just wanted to feel pretty… to feel wanted... desired.”

“You are pretty; you are beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.” your mouth speaks, but you can't ignore the butterflies that come with those words.

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” Eddie poured his heart out.

“You have to say that- you’re just trying to make me feel better.

“I’m really not, and if Jason doesn’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve to go out with you.” He shuffled closer to you. “That guy is a fucking loser! Peaked in high school. It’s killing me that you agreed to go out with him.”

“Maybe that’s what I deserve…”

“What?”

"If he is the only kind of guy that wants me it's what I deserve."

"Don't you dare say that," Eddie cups your face to force you to make eye contact.

"Why on earth would you think so little of yourself?"

"Because... no one wants the big girl." your eyes glazed with tears once again.

Eddie knew he fucked up by not telling you his feelings earlier on, but he was scared.

"Let me show you how beautiful you are. Please."

"What?"

"I can't watch you go on this date without letting you know that it should have been me to ask you first. I was scared of what it would do to us, but I like you; I like you more than a friend should. I think about you all the time, and I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want you to understand that your body is the most perfect thing I have ever seen.

"Eddie I-"

"Please"

"O-okay."

Eddie crashes his lips into yours. Nothing about this is sweet. It is primal and needy, like he can finally drink you in after weeks of thirst. His hand travels to the back of your head and gently lays you back on the bed. His body is hovering over yours as your fingers tangle in his hair. He tastes like spearmint gum and cigarettes. You breathe in his woodsy cologne, giving you a head rush.

His kisses become more gentle, more calculated as the both of you begin to mould into one. Curious hands travelled under your skirt as he felt the soft skin of your thigh, bringing it up so he could get closer.

The skirt of the dress you still had on fell, exposing more of your leg, and Eddie couldn't resist taking a peek.

He rose, and you let out a soft moan at the loss of contact.

"It's okay, baby. I just needed to see you. How beautiful you are spread open for me."

That made you flush. Never have you seen this side of Eddie before. Only in your wildest fantasies could you dream of these words being spoken from his mouth.

the self-consciousness quickly set in as you needed to close your legs, but Eddie's strong hand found the meat of your inner thoughts and pried them open with ease.

"No baby, I need you to be a good girl, and keep these open. Do you think you can do that for me?" He leaned in and gently kissed your inner thigh, another part of you you've been particularly loathing lately.

"i don't know" IT was so overwhelming.

"We don't have to keep going if you don't want to... But I would be honoured if you let me have you this way." It would be the highest compliment, the most trust you put into a man.

"I want to, but im nervous." You've not shown anyone your body since the weight gain; you never wanted to. But something about Eddie made you feel safe and wanted.

"we will go slow. I want to savour every second." He smirked and you couldn't help but cover your face. Why was he making you feel so giddy?

"No, no. I need to see you, pretty girl." Eddie's rough fingers intertwined with yours as he peeled your hands away from your face.

"You can't say things like that to me!" you squeak.

"Why? dose it make your pussy feel all tingly?"

"Eddie!"

"Oh, I bet it does; you like me talking you up? Good, because so do I." His lips latched on yours once again, and his tongue made its way into your mouth before he pulled away to kiss his way down your neck until your shirt got in the way.

"Take it off." His hands slid underneath, feeling the fabric of the tight dress bunched up around your middle. This was another barrier he would need to convince you to get rid of.

"Eddie..."

"Please? I want to make you feel good." His hands inched up further and further towards your breasts.

You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh before nodding in agreement. Your hands find the hem of your shirt before slowly peeing it off, exposing your lacy bra.

"Fuck" You hear Eddie exhale above you.

When you slowly open your eyes, you see a man above you, full of lust and primal desire. A man to whom you thought never to be attracted to you, yet here he is, ready to devour you like you're his last meal.

"You're so fucking perfect." He reaches to grope you, not able to resist not touching your chest.

He can feel your pebbled nipples through the thin blue lace that hardly concealed anything. The thought that Jason was the one who might have gotten to see this instead of him drove him mad with jealousy.

You swore you heard him mumble the word 'mine' before leaning in to kiss your skin right above where the bra lay on your breast. His plump lips were so soft on your skin as his kisses turned into licks and nips through the fabric. His hands cupped and squeezed your tits as you watched him become a man possessed.

You arched your back up into Eddie as he fondled you; you can also feel how hard Eddie is becoming against your thigh.

You moaned his name, and that only made Eddie need you more.

“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to taste you, baby?”

“No,” your breath is sharp and shocked.

“No?” He cocks his head, “Well, I need to get better at showing you just how much I need you.” He takes your hand and guides it to his jeans, where his cock is strained beneath.

Your eyes widen as you feel the stiff outline before you reach up to kiss him, but he pulls away, making his way down your body as he pulls down your dress, leaving you in only your matching panties and bra.

Your hands instinctively cover your stomach, but Eddie beats you to it, catching your hands mid-air and tilting his head.

“I don’t think so, baby; it’s just me.” He guides your hands to rest beside your body before he tentatively moves his own hands to your inner thighs.

“You trust me?” He continued.

You can’t form words; the only thing you can do is nod your head dumbly. No one had made you feel so desired, wanted... needed.

“Good girl”

Eddie finds his own hands pushing your legs open as far as they can go so he can see the wet patch that has formed in the gusset of your panties. A knowing smirk breaches his face as he leans forward to lay a gentle kiss on your covered pussy lips before taking a deep breath in. Your scent filled his nostrils, making you squeak with embarrassment.

“Eddie!”

“Can’t help myself, you smell so delicious…. Can’t wait to taste you.” He hooks a finger in your panties to move them to the side.

“So pretty,” he whispered into your lower lips before leaning a long wet kiss to your clit.

“Oh god!” You cry, arching your back into him as he makes out with your pussy.

“Tastes even better than you smell, baby.”

His tongue licks a long, drawn-out strip from your home to your clit, making you even wetter than before.

A mix of Eddie’s saliva and your slick coat on your inner thighs as he ravished you. The way his lips and tongue worked your clit and folds was head spinning.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You cry as your orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave.

Your body shakes beneath your best friend don’t let go until he’s consumed all of you.

“Holy shit,” you catch your breath. No other words came to mind as your blissed-out state takes over all of you.

“You did such a good job f’me” he mumbled into your pussy before pulling back.

You see his shiny lips and chin break into a smile as he crawls back up your body to kiss you. You pull him down into you, and his body weight feels so good on top of you. You need more; you need to be closer.

“More,” you say into the kiss.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not even close to being done with you.”

“Eddie, please.” You whine, hardly recognizing your own voice. You’re so full of want and need for Eddie. He is the only thing you can focus on.

“Patients, baby,” he leans back to remove his clothes.

First came his shirt and then his belt; you watched as his ring-clad fingers skilfully undid the intricate lock of the belt buckle and teased you as he slowly undid his pants.

Your hands travelled up your chest, and you played with your nipples to entice Eddie to move faster, but he was savouring the moment. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks; he had been waiting too long for this moment to not make it last.

"You're so pretty spread out like this, just for me."

“I want you so bad,” you moan as his boxers finally are tugged from his waist, and what you’ve wanted the most is sprung free. “I need you.”

“You have me, all of me.” Another feverish kiss was taken, and you couldn’t help but grind your bare hips into his own.

“No more waiting.”

“No more waiting baby, I have you.” You feel him rock the warm head of his cock through your cum soaked folds back and forth collecting your slick so he can slide into you with ease.

“Baby please.” You beg.

“What about protection?”

“No condom” you shake your head.

“No? You want me to fill this pretty little pussy? Claim you? Breed you? Make you mine?”

“Yes” you plead with a hint of desperation in your voice. The glint behind your eyes was too much for Eddie to say no.

“You want to be mine?”

“So bad, Eddie. Please, I want to be yours. I’ll give you everything, please.”

“Such a good girl. I like it when you tell me what you want.” He stroked the side of your face before cupping it to take you into a long kiss as his cock penetrated your leaking hole.

Another muffled moan from the both of you filled the room as his cock stretched your inner walls. Never had you had someone this big before; it's been a little over a year since you’ve had sex with a man. You don’t remember why you’ve waited this long. All thoughts about body image and self-hatred melted away with each brush of his cock.

“Fucking pussy is so tight.” He gritted through his teeth, trying not to spill his load into you already. Eddie swore he died and this was heaven. Your pussy was heaven on earth; nothing ever felt this good, not anyone, not anything.

“Faster.” Your hips matched his rhythm as you ground down onto his cock.

"You sure you can handle it, baby?"

"Yes!"

Lewd sounds of wet skin slapping filled the empty space of your bedroom. Cries of pleasure and touches of wanting filled the space and one another minds as the two of you couldn't get enough.

"Love how needy you are for me. Just can't resist my cock can you baby?"

unintelligible left your lips as Eddie rocked furiously into you.

"Anwer me, baby, or I'll stop. You were doing so good before."

"Yes! I want your cock." you cried.

"I'm so proud of you; you're taking me so well. Who's my beautiful girl?"

"m-me," you stutter as his cock brushes your spot.

"Fuck youre so beauiful. You're going to be even more beautiful after you're filled with my cum. You want hat baby? Want my load inside of you?"

"Yes!" your fingers dig into the flesh of Eddies back, leaving raised red scratches in their wake.

"Please- wanna cum so bad." you breath

"Fuck yes, baby, claim me. Make me yours cum on my cock."

It didn't take much longer as Eddie began to play with your swollen bud of nerves before you were falling apart all over again. A silent scream, your jaw hung lax as the sound gets caught in your throat, and another tidal wave, this one bigger than the last, washed over your whole body as his cock and fingers continued to work your needy pussy.

Eddie watched your fucked out state feeling so satisfied with himself. "Fuck that's my girl, squeezing me so fucking good." You feel Eddie jerk one last time before he spills everything inside of you. "Fucking take it."

You snap out of it when you feel the weight of Eddie collapses on top of you. You let out a giggle in your blissed-out state.

"Something funny, pretty girl?"

"No-no, everything is perfect. Thank you, Eddie." You brushed his swaety hair off his perspiering face.

"No baby, I think I need to be thanking you. Never has anyone let me fuck them like that."

"Never?" You shy away, realizing what youve asked of him.

"Don't worry. You're the only one I've ever wanted to do that with. I think you unlocked something inside of me." He kissed the corner of your mouth.

"Yea, I like you... a lot. If that's not obvious."

"I like you too, Eddie."

"I sure hope so you let me cum in you." He snorted.

"God, you're so vulgar."

"Yea, but you like it. "

"I do."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson request #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x best friend reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #bestfriend!eddie munson x reader

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corroded-hellfire · 17 hours

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AYW request where Reader graduates from college so Ryan, Luke, and Eddie come to her graduation. And then Eddie gives her a little graduation gift of his own...

+ Eddie eating Reader out under her gown right after her graduation ceremony. Like, the moment she walks across the stage, he’s dragging her to the bathroom and diving in.

I am dedicating this to Dr. Bug! I'm so proud of you @munson-blurbs 💚

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f receiving, age gap

Words: 5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The polyester robe that hangs on your shoulders sways in the breeze as you fetch your cap out of the back seat. The cerulean regalia is a beautiful shade, but it was a pain in the ass to find something to wear beneath it that didn’t clash. The white floral summer dress peeking out now from your unzipped gown was a lucky find that caught your eye while out having lunch with Max one day.

Cap with a golden tassel securely in your hand, you shut the back door to your sister’s car and walk around the backside to stand next to her.

“I can’t wait to meet your boyfriend,” your sister teases, as if you’re twelve and not twenty-two.

You roll your eyes as you lift a hand to shade your face from the blazing sun above. It’s not even officially summer yet but Indiana is coming in hot with those high temperatures this year.

“Don’t be weird,” you say.

An exaggerated gasp leaves your older sister’s lips, and she presses a hand to her heart, fresh yellow nail polish glinting in the sunlight.

“Me? I’m never weird.”

“When I was fourteen you told Connor Donald–”

“But you were going to the bathroom!”

“You don’t tell that to a boy when he calls!” Somehow you feel like that teenage girl all over again.

“I just had this feeling about him,” she says with a shrug. Your sister crosses her arms over her chest. “And I was right.”

“Yeah, he was a creep,” you admit.

The smug smile on her pretty face is annoying enough to have you turning away from her. At the other end of the parking lot, you see a familiar group of men headed your way, and the littlest one breaks away from the herd and races your way, yelling your name. As he gets closer, you spy the hat perched atop his chocolate curls and the cuteness devastates you.

With a gleeful chuckle, you catch Luke as he flings himself into your arms. Using the momentum, you swoop the almost-seven-year-old up and hold him against your hip. Your back and arm muscles protest the effort, but you do your best to ignore them. Truthfully, Luke’s getting heavier and too big for this now, but you can’t bear to stop picking him up—he’s still that baby boy to you.

“Hey, you,” you greet him.

“You look so pretty!” he tells you as you begrudgingly set him down.

“Thank you!” you say. “You look pretty handsome yourself in that snazzy fedora.”

Luke giggles and adjusts the brim of the hat so he can see you better.

By now, the rest of the gang has made their way to you and Ryan is the next one to launch himself towards you for a hug. Wayne goes next and you can tell your boyfriend is purposefully waiting to be the last one. Indeed he was as he brings you into his arms and presses a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. His hands slip below the graduation robe and rest on the soft cotton of the dress that hugs your lower back.

“Hi,” he whispers against your lips.

“Hi,” you reply just as softly.

If it weren’t for your sister clearing her throat, you very well might have forgotten that you were at your graduation, let alone there were other people standing around you right now. Such is the power of Eddie and his touch.

“Oh,” you say, face heating up as you take a step back from your boyfriend. “Right. Um, everyone, this is my big sister, Gin. Gin, this is Eddie, Wayne, and the little monsters Luke and Ryan.”

Both boys make silly faces at you in retaliation for their introduction, which you have no problem doing right back to them.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Eddie says, extending his hand.

“Likewise,” Gin replies as she shakes it.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Wayne greets your sister. They shake hands as Eddie comes closer to you again, standing behind you and resting his hands on your hips.

“Heard that if it weren’t for you, these two wouldn’t even know each other,” Wayne says, nodding to you and Eddie.

Ryan’s nose scrunches up in confusion. “Huh?”

“It’s true,” Gin tells the boy with a smile. “My old roommate is friends with your mom. One day I overheard something about someone needing a babysitter and I knew my little sister was available.”

Luke walks over and wraps his arms around your sister’s hips, giving her a big squeeze.

“Thank you for hearing that!”

The adults chuckle and you lean back into Eddie as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I don’t wanna go in,” you say with a sigh.

“Where are you going?” Ryan asks.

“I have to go inside with everyone else who’s graduating,” you explain as Eddie’s arms wind their way around your waist. He isn’t making this any easier. “That way you guys get to watch me when I walk across the stage.”

“Ed, would you let the poor girl go?” Wayne says with a sigh, making Gin let out a tittering laugh.

“Don’t wanna,” he says like a petulant child. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “I like your dress.”

“Thank you,” you hum softly.

Silently, Eddie presses his body flush up against yours and you feel his half-hard cock pressing up against the top of your ass. A strangled gasp leaves your lips and Eddie has to bury his face in your neck to hide his smirk.

“I really like it,” he mumbles against your skin.

Sitting in the small arena, in dark green retractable seats that are usually reserved for someone watching a school basketball or hockey game, Ryan and Luke start to grow restless as they wait for the graduation ceremony to begin. Eddie knows they won’t exactly be captivated once it starts either, but he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

“Luke, can you please sit down? I don’t want to ask you again.”

“When is she coming out?” Luke asks, craning his neck to look around at the stage as he does as his father asked.

“When everybody else does,” Ryan says, also bored, but annoyed by his little brother as well.

“But when’s that?” the six-year-old whines.

“You know,” Gin says with a smile that looks suspiciously like one of Luke’s or Ryan’s when they’re up to something, “I have some pretty funny stories I could tell you about her.”

Eddie is also clearly intrigued by this, a spark of mischief gleaming in his own eyes.

“Ooh, like what?” Luke asks, already engrossed even though your sister hasn’t begun yet.

“Well, one time,” Gin starts, “she thought she could be like Mary Poppins and fly. She grabbed an umbrella and wanted to climb up to the roof. Our dad followed her into the garage and asked what she was looking for. When she said a ladder so she could go up to the roof, he put an end to her plan. She cried the whole day because she wasn’t allowed to try and fly like Mary Poppins could.”

Luke laughs, tilting sideways until he’s leaning against his big brother. Ryan’s chuckling as well, picturing you being mad because you can’t fly.

“Are you the big sister?” Ryan asks.

“I am,” Gin says.

“How many years?” Luke asks. “Ryan’s two years older than me. I’m the baby.”

“I’m six years older than her.”

“I’m six years old!” Luke shares excitedly.

“Do you have any more stories?” Ryan asks.

Eddie and Wayne share a smile between the two of them. Ryan is usually never so open with people he’s just met—he’s always been the shyest in the family. But there’s something about Gin being your sister that has Ryan feeling comfortable enough to be himself. The two of you aren’t identical, though it’s easy to tell that you are sisters. Gin is slightly shorter, and her face holds more roundness than yours does, but there’s a clear resemblance. Especially around the eyes, Eddie notices. They aren’t the exact same shade, but the shape of your eyes and arch of your eyebrows are very much alike.

“Hmm,” Gin hums as she thinks of another story to entertain the boys with. Eddie can’t help but notice she purses her lips when she’s thinking the same way that you do as well.

“Oh, okay. She used to make us watch her sing and dance all the time! Especially to New Kids on the Block.”

“Who?” Ryan asks.

Before the stab of feeling old has time to sink in for Eddie, Gin, or Wayne, the lights dim and a blanket of quiet falls over the crowd.

The faculty takes their places on stage and Pomp and Circumstance begins to play over the loudspeaker. Soon, a rolling wave enters the floor of the arena as all graduates file in towards the rows of chairs laid out for them.

Both Ryan and Luke stand, the younger Munson on his tippy toes as he tries to look as far and wide as he can to spot you in the crowd.

“Where is she?” Luke groans. “Everyone is so blue!”

“Ugh! I can’t find her!” Ryan follows up.

It takes Eddie a few moments to find you as well. Everyone is matching so he can’t go by what you’re wearing beneath your gown, and it’s even hard to see your beautiful hair with the cap restricting his view. But it doesn’t take your boyfriend very long to spot you, as he’d be able to find you anywhere—even if he was blindfolded.

“Look, look,” Eddie says, gesturing for his sons to step closer to him. “She’s right there. Next to Aunt Jess.”

Ryan and Luke do their best to follow the direction that their father is pointing in, but it’s hard–even when the graduates all stop walking once they reach their seats. But as Ryan wrinkles up his brow and really tries to examine his dad’s line of vision, his eyes catch on you.

“I see her!” A grin lights up Ryan’s face and it fills Eddie with a warmth that the outside sun could never hope to aspire to.

After a few more minutes, and once the speeches begin, Luke spies you as well and becomes just as excited as his big brother. Their joy quickly wears off as speaker after speaker comes up to the podium to give some of the most boring speeches Eddie has ever heard in his entire life. He can’t blame his boys for practically falling asleep slumped against one another.

Finally, the names of the graduates begin to get called and the boys muster up their energy reserves to wait for you. There’s a good chunk of graduates who have their moment before a name is called that the boys recognize.

“Jess Arnold.”

The boys excitedly cheer but become even giddier when they see you’re next up.

Nothing could have prepared you for the emotion of walking across the stage to receive your diploma. Hearing your name called over the loudspeaker was cool, being up on the jumbo screen for a moment was pretty surreal, but the sounds coming from one particular section of the audience have you choking up as you accept the rolled up piece of parchment from the Dean.

The claps of two small pairs of hands and cheers from those same boys send goosebumps shooting up and down your arms. Luke hadn’t even shouted that loud in excitement when he saw the real-life Hot Wheels cars. Wayne’s whistle joins the noise, that piercing sound making you chuckle as you try to swallow your emotions. Gin’s voice is unmistakable in her cheering—you heard that yelling every day growing up, you’d know it anywhere. But the sound in the cacophony that makes a few tears spill over your lash line is Eddie’s proud and happy “Woo!” that he repeats as you make your way across the platform. You just wish he was waiting for you as soon as you stepped off the stage so you could run into his arms. But as you step down and are about to head back to your seat, you look up and see where your family is up in the stands.

When they realize you’re looking at them, the boys wave excitedly, both hands flapping over their heads. Wayne and Gin both give you waves as well. Your eyes are glued to Eddie though, as he presses his hand to his mouth and then extends it towards you, blowing a kiss your way. A girlish giggle bubbles out of you at the gesture and you blow one right back to him.

It feels like ants scurrying out of an ant hill as you exit the arena and try to find familiar faces amongst the thousands of family members and friends who are here to support their loved ones today.

Jess comes up beside you and loops her arm through yours. You flash her a quick smile and the two of you fight your way through the crowd, searching for your people.

Your name catches your attention and your head whips to the left to see Luke’s small hands cupped around his mouth. It’s a swim upstream as you tug Jess in that direction, but you finally make it to find Eddie waiting with a bouquet of carnations in his hand.

More tears threaten to spill over as he hands them to you with a smile so full of admiration and pride on his face.

“Congratulations, sweetheart.”

The wrapper around the flowers crinkles in your hand and you make sure it’s held tight in your fist as you throw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck and hug him as close as you can manage. Eddie doesn’t hesitate for a moment, his arms encircling your waist and holding your body up against his.

“Thank you,” you say loud enough for him to hear over the crowd. “I love you so much.”

“They’re from us, too!” you hear Luke say.

With a soft chuckle, you pull away from Eddie who is raising an eyebrow at his boys.

“Are they, now? I must’ve missed the part where you chipped in,” he says.

“You must’ve,” Luke agrees with a shrug.

You laugh and hand the flowers to Eddie so you can pull both boys in for a big hug. Each of them gets squeezed in an arm but they cling to you just as tightly.

“You were on stage!” Ryan says when you let go.

“And I heard you cheering for me!” you tell him.

“Can I wear your hat?” Luke asks.

“Oh, I need a picture of that,” you say while nodding your head.

That leads to dozens of pictures being taken. You with everyone at once, you with everyone individually, you and Jess goofing off before she went off to find her family. Luke takes a handful while wearing your cap but Eddie plops it back on your head so he can take a few more with you.

Both boys make gagging noises as Gin snaps a picture of Eddie giving you a kiss. Their groans only grow as you wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck and sink further into the kiss, another snapshot being taken.

“Please tell me that one isn’t going to get hung up anywhere,” Luke gripes.

For the next picture, Eddie wraps his arm tightly around your waist and dips you, causing you to let out a mixture of a squeal and laughter as your hands cling to him for stability. You’re aware of the flash of the camera going off but it’s nothing compared to the brightness of Eddie’s grin as he looks down at you. It makes your heart pound faster than the adrenaline from the feeling of almost falling could ever do.

Once multiple roles of film have been used, the camera gets tucked away and it’s time to get going. Eddie offers to drive you back, just the two of you, since Gin drove you here and she’s headed straight back home. Wayne can take the boys back to give you and Eddie some time alone.

“Thank you for coming,” you say to your sister as you pull her in for a hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she tells you. “I’m so proud of you.” “Thank you.”

It makes you smile to see how the Munsons all hug her goodbye as well–even shy little Ryan. With one last wave, your sister heads towards the parking lot and Wayne ruffles the hair of the two boys.

“Ready, knuckleheads?” he asks.

“Can I wear your cap home?” Luke asks.

“Sure.” You hand the blue piece of regalia to him and instead of switching it out with his fedora like he did for the pictures, he just stacks it on top of his own hat.

“That’s a great look,” Eddie tells him, to which Luke winks in response.

“Will you take these for me, Ry?” you ask, offering the eight-year-old your bouquet of pastel-colored flowers.

“Of course!” The wrapper crinkles as the boy situates the long stems against his shorter frame.

You press a kiss to both boys’ cheeks before they head towards the parking lot with Wayne. Eddie laces his fingers with yours and you go to follow in the same direction the others just went, when Eddie tugs you back and smacks a kiss to the back of your hand.

“How about a little campus tour before we go?” he asks.

“Oh?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. “Anywhere in particular you want to see?”

Eddie shrugs. “Your favorite spots. Somewhere there’s no one else, maybe.”

“Right,” you say, a smirk tugging the corners of your lips. “Let’s see what we come across.”

Hand in hand, the two of you take a leisurely stroll through the quad of campus. Where there are usually people studying or picnicking during the semester, now there are graduates and families taking pictures and celebrating. The warm day outside leads you to the cool shelter of the student center at the far end of the yard, where you spent a lot of your college days having lunch. It’s mostly empty now, no one having any real need to be in here other than to escape the brutal sun.

An empty hallway catches Eddie’s eye, and he leads you by the hand to follow him in that direction. His boots squeak against the white linoleum tiles and your heels clack as you step behind in his wake. There isn’t much down this way except for a few offices that are now empty, a room full of vending machines, and some bathrooms.

Your boyfriend takes advantage of the latter, the empty hallway leading him to believe there will be no one in the men’s room. His gamble is correct as he pulls you in behind him. He moves quick as lightning to turn the lock on the bathroom door, assuring that no one will interrupt the two of you.

Eddie’s lips are on yours a heartbeat later, both his and your hands going to the zipper of your graduation gown. Neither of you can get it down blindly, but Eddie’s too impatient to make another go at it. Instead, he grips your hips and helps you sit on the peach granite counter behind you. The gown gets rucked up your body, the dress he’s so fond of joining it until they’re both up around your waist.

“Eddie,” you whimper.

“Shhh, shhh, baby,” Eddie croons as he sinks down to his knees. Soft, plush lips trail hot kisses from the inside of your left knee all the way up to the apex of your thighs. Large, strong hands massage up and down your legs as his lips never leave your skin, touching and teasing everywhere except where you need him the most.

Eddie lets his eyes slip closed not only to let himself enjoy the feeling of having his hands and lips worship your soft skin, but also because if he gets one more look at the wet patch on your purple lace panties, he’s going to rip them off of you and the fun will end far too soon.

“Eddie, please,” you beg.

“I’ve got you, princess,” he says softly.

Torturously slow, Eddie’s mouth comes closer to your center, the heat of his breath making you curl your toes before he even comes in contact with you. Brown doe eyes open to look at you, darkened by lust as he finally presses his mouth against your core, kissing against the wet patch of your panties that’s driving him so wild. Pleasure flutters in your pussy, your hole clenching around nothing as Eddie opens his mouth and grips the material of your panties with his teeth. As quick as he grabbed them, he lets them go, letting the wet lace smack back against your clit.

“God, I need you,” Eddie growls.

Calloused fingers work themselves up the outside of your thighs and grip the purple material at your hips. You arch your back, head resting against the bathroom mirror, to assist your boyfriend in ridding you of your underwear, which he shoves into the back pocket of his pants.

Now with nothing between him and your soaked pussy, Eddie eyes it greedily and the way he stares at your bare sex turns you on even more. You choke on a breath as he dives in, tongue instantly running from your hole up to your clit. He decides to keep his attention there, flicking the sensitive nub with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck,” you moan. Eddie’s responding moan reverberates up your core, adding another layer of pleasure to his mouth on you.

He hitches your left leg over his shoulder to open you up even more for him, going in to devour you like his life depends on it. His hot, long tongue glides through your folds as he licks at you, not stopping even for a moment to catch his breath–not giving you a moment of reprieve as his mouth works against your pussy like it was made for this.

You never want this–him–to stop but Eddie’s too God damn good with his mouth for you to last long.

“E-Eddie, please.” You’re not sure what you’re pleading for as you reach down and grip the curls on the top of the older man’s head in your hand. It takes all of your control not to rut your hips against his sinful mouth.

Even though you’re not sure what you’re asking for, Eddie somehow knows what you need—he always does. He slips a finger inside of you, quickly followed by a second, as he keeps his mouth working on your clit. His eyes are trained on yours, not breaking contact for a second as his tongue laps at your clit and his fingers pump in and out of your greedy pussy.

If the feeling alone wasn’t about to bring you over the edge, the sight before you was.

“Oh, I’m gonna, I-I’m gonna–”

You don’t have time to finish your thought as your orgasm rushes over you, pleasure sparking throughout your body and leaving a tingle in your veins that only Eddie can give you. Thick fingers continue to work you through it, his tongue not giving up its assault on your clit until he’s wrung every ounce of ecstasy he can from you.

Once your muscles relax and you’re panting above him, Eddie slips his fingers from inside of you and stands up. He wastes no time slipping them into his mouth, moaning as he savors the taste of you. You’d come again just from that if you had the energy.

“Eddie,” you whisper between labored breaths.

“I love how much you say my name,” your boyfriend says as he leans over your body and presses his lips against yours.

The sound of Eddie’s zipper being pulled down shoots a thrill of excitement through you as the two of you exchange easy, lazy kisses. His hard cock nudging at your hole has you breaking your mouth away from his, a whimper tumbling from your lips.

“Yes,” you whine, the only word in your otherwise blank mind.

His initial push into you has you gripping at his shoulders, throwing your head back, which Eddie takes full advantage of and attaches his lips to your throat. The deeper he sinks into you, the harder your nails dig into the back of the button up shirt Eddie wore just for the occasion today.

“Shit,” Eddie huffs with a small laugh. “I’m not gonna last long, baby. Fuck, been hard since I saw you this afternoon. Couldn’t stop thinking about how bad I wanna fuck you since then. How bad I needed to taste you. Feel that tight, perfect pussy of yours squeezing me so fuckin’ good.”

You lift your head up to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Even though m’not your college girl anymore?” you ask through your shallow breathing.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie growls, gripping your hips tighter and adjusting the angle that he pushes into you. “You’re my college graduate. My smart girl. My smart girl who gets so dumb on my cock, doesn’t she?”

“Uh huh.” You nod, your head heavy as the familiar pressure builds up in your lower tummy.

“That’s my girl.”

“So close,” you whine.

“Me too, baby. Come on. Be my good girl and come with me.”

One of Eddie’s hands leaves your hips and his thumb presses against your clit, making tight circles just the way he knows drives you crazy.

“Fuck,” you groan.

“Let go, princess.”

“Shit, I-I’m coming!”

Eddie spilling into you, coating your walls with his warm seed elevates this orgasm as you hold onto your boyfriend for dear life. Lightning sparks everywhere his body touches yours and pure bliss washes over you like a wave on the surf.

It takes a few minutes for the two of you to catch your breath. Eddie’s body hovers over yours and, if you’re honest, you’d be fine if he never moved. Eventually, he has to though, which also means pulling out of you. Though you whine at the loss, Eddie is right there to help clean you up and press sweet kisses to your mouth.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“Mmm, I would hope so,” you tease, throwing your arms around his neck.

Eddie has one arm draped around your shoulders as you walk down the hallway to his apartment door. He keeps pressing kisses to your temple and running the material of your graduation gown between his fingers.

“What’re the odds the boys will be asleep?” Eddie asks when you’re one door away.

“Slim to none,” you answer with a bark of laughter. “It’s still light out.”

“Details, details.” Eddie grabs the doorknob and tosses the front door open, allowing you to step inside first.

But you don’t even get one foot over the threshold before your eyes take in the sight before you. A large banner reading “Congratulations!” hangs in the archway that leads to the bedrooms and the apartment is crowded with people. Your jaw drops and it takes your brain a few moments to recalibrate. Once it does, you spin around to face Eddie and swat at his arm.

“I told you I didn’t want a party!”

Eddie shakes his head, a shit-eating grin on his face, as he leads you into the apartment and closes the door behind him. All six Harringtons are here, Max, Lucas, and their daughter Tiffany, and Wayne with both boys, who look more mischievous than ever.

“Oh no, this isn’t a graduation party,” Eddie says.

Nancy steps forward, a sly smile on her face, when you narrow your eyes at Eddie.

“Nope,” she echoes. “It’s an employee performance review.”

You stare at her for a moment, not comprehending her words.

“What?”

She can’t help but let out a small chuckle so Steve steps up to her side to help her out.

“You’re our employee, right? Watch the kids? So, we reviewed your performance and determined it was excellent.”

“Which of course calls for a party,” Nancy explains, gesturing to the living room full of people around her.

“And the fact that it happens to be on the day I graduated college?” you ask, tilting your head to look at Eddie.

“Complete coincidence,” he says with an innocent shrug.

“Look, look, look!” Luke bounds over and grabs your hand, leading you over to the counter that separates the kitchen and the living room.

A large sheet cake with vanilla icing and blue piping rests there, bearing the words “Congrats Grad!” in gold lettering.

It brings a smile to your face, but you smile even wider as you look down at Luke and then over at Ryan.

“Did you two know about this?” you ask.

“Maaaaybe,” Ryan drawls.

“I can’t believe you kept a secret from me!”

You pull Luke in against your chest and start to tickle his sides. He squirms, trying to get away from you as he howls in laughter.

“Ahh! Ryan! Help me!”

Ryan rushes over and tries to tug his little brother out of your grasp, but you’re quicker. You pull the older Munson brother into your clutches as well and he becomes another victim of your tickling. They both shriek and try to run, but you cease your tickling to wrap your arm around each boy and press a kiss to the top of their heads.

“You little sneaks,” you say.

“Can we have cake now?” is Luke’s only reply. He doesn’t wait for a response before posing another question. “Do you make a wish on graduation cakes?”

“What would you wish for, babe?” Eddie says as he walks over to you. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and you furrow your brow. “Would it be to fly like Mary Poppins?”

Your eyes widen as all the heat in your body rushes to your face.

“I’m going to kill my sister.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

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candycandy00 · 3 days

Text

The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.

Part 1 | Part 2

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Noncon/Rape! Very rough sex! Bondage. Violence. Blood. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

Your body was not made to stretch this far, to bend this much to another’s whims, so he will break you. He’s already broken you a dozen times by now.

Captain Sukuna has spent the past four days using you as his plaything, his toy to have fun with and then smash on the floor when he’s done. Your skin is covered in bruises from being thrown around the room, shoved into any position he wants you in. There’s a constellation of bloody marks all over you, from being bitten or pinched too hard. Your entire body is sore.

Right now, he’s fucking you against the wall of his cabin, the soft skin of your bare back scraping over the hard wood as he repeatedly slams you back into it. Your legs dangle on either side of him, his firm body pressed into you as his cock roughly assaults your aching pussy. Your hands weakly clutch his strong shoulders, your eyes full of tears. In this position, face to face, you have no choice but to look into his gleaming ruby eyes as he abuses you.

It hurts. It always hurts. He makes sure of that.

You’ve given up trying to be strong, trying to hold back your tears or your screams. He’ll tear them out of you one way or another. So you shake with sobs as you drop your head, your face buried in his neck.

He seems to like this, to like how pitiful and broken you are, because you feel his enormous cock twitch within you, and seconds later he’s shooting his seed directly into your deepest parts.

After he completely empties himself, he pulls out and then unceremoniously drops you onto the floor. You wince at the impact on your bruised flesh, then scurry over to the tattered, shabby dress he gave you to wear when you’re not being fucked by him. You quickly pull it over your head, eager to cover yourself up.

Sukuna sits on his bed, his legs spread, totally confident and comfortable in his nakedness. Even now, despite how cruelly he treats you, you find it difficult not to look at him. He draws your eyes to him at all times, with his perfectly sculpted body.

He notices your gaze and smirks at you. “You like my tattoos, don’t you?” he asks.

You pry your eyes away, feeling heat rush to your face. “No,” you say.

“Lying little cunt,” he says, though his tone is more playful than angry. “You’re practically salivating. Come here.”

You know better than to keep him waiting, so you step over to him. He reaches out and grabs one of your hands, pulling it to his chest. “Touch them,” he says, looking at you with an expression that makes your knees wobble. You relax your clenched fingers, lightly pressing them to one of the black lines of ink. They feel the same as the rest of his skin, but there’s something lurid about having your fingertips on them.

Your heart races, your breaths come faster, and you slide your fingers down, tracing the tattooed lines. He’s not even gripping your hand anymore.

“Most women find them frightening,” he says, his voice slightly softer than usual as he watches you. “But they turn you on, don’t they?”

You nod, still distracted. Your fingers keep moving down, to his lower abdomen, feeling the taut muscles there, following the lines lower, over the thin patch of soft pink hair that trails down to his hardening cock. You pause, pulling your hand away.

He takes hold of it again, pulling it back to his groin. “Don’t stop now. Touch me as you please,” he says huskily, his face close to yours.

You slowly return your hand, sliding it down until your fingertips graze over his shaft. Gently, hesitantly, you wrap your fingers around the base of it, where the tattoos are.

Sukuna reaches out and pulls your tattered dress up to your waist, then pulls you into his lap, forcing you to straddle his large thigh. Your bare pussy rests right where the black lines circle him. You’re a wet, sticky mess from just being fucked, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Gradually, you begin moving, rubbing yourself up and down his thigh, enjoying the friction of his muscles against your clit.

He’s made you cum over and over again these past four days. Even though you find it humiliating, you’ve begun to crave the feeling, because it’s the only thing that feels good in a sea of pain.

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

Sukuna watches his toy grind on his thigh, relishing the feeling of her soft, wet pussy pressing onto him. Her hand, looking so small wrapped around his massive shaft, begins to move up and down, stroking him with careful, uncertain motions. He’ll have to teach her how to properly jack him off, but for now her nervous, shy little actions are cute enough to rile him up.

She has such a beautiful face, even more beautiful when her eyes are glazed over and she’s panting, on the edge of climax. Even the dirty, hideous dress he gave her does nothing to disguise her loveliness. It doesn’t fit her well, the loose collar slipping off one of her shoulders as she continues moving, breathing hard, her body beginning to shudder.

Her lips part, her face flushes, her hand is silky and warm on his cock. And he realizes something.

“Have you ever been kissed?” he asks her, staring at her lips.

She looks away, so bashful even while she’s chasing her own orgasm. “N-no, I haven’t,” she says.

Such a cute, innocent little thing.

He leans forward, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her gently before slipping his tongue into her mouth. She tastes so sweet, just like he imagined. When he pulls back, she’s looking at him as if she’s never seen him before, her hand grasping his cock a little tighter, her hips grinding on him a little faster.

He watches her face while she cums, tears in her eyes, her breaths shallow and rapid. Such a pretty pretty face, all blissed out from her climax. She looks so precious, it makes him feel his own release approaching.

So he shoves her off him, onto her knees on the floor, and points his cock at that beautiful face before covering it in cum. Ahh, this is how he likes her best, how she’s loveliest: when he’s dirtied and defiled her.

She blinks rapidly, trying to wipe the cum off her long dainty eyelashes with her shaking hands. She sniffles as if she’s going to cry again. He decides to have pity on her.

“Go into the washroom and clean yourself up,” he tells her. Two days ago he didn’t let her wash her face for hours, so she seems relieved as she gets to her feet. “Oh, and make yourself presentable,” he adds. “You’ll be joining me on the deck tonight.”

She pauses, looking surprised, but he gives no explanation. She heads into his private washroom and emerges later, looking clean and fresh despite the ragged dress. She’s tied it in places and done her best to make it at least look neat, but there’s very little she can do for it. He finds the effort charming.

“Let’s go then,” he says, and opens the door. She looks at him as if she’s suspicious, as if this is some trick. He’s never allowed her out of his quarters before. He laughs. “We’re just going to enjoy some entertainment out in the open sea air. No need to worry.”

A look of terror passes over her face. She’s probably imagining something heinous. Maybe she thinks he’s going to strip her and rape her in front of his crew, or hand her over to them to enjoy. Perhaps she thinks he’s going to murder her, or someone else. He finds her fear amusing, so he does nothing more to calm it. He simply steps out of the room and gestures for her to follow.

She only hesitates a moment, then she joins him. He holds out his arm to her, as the rich nobles do when escorting a lady. She takes it, but her eyes remain downcast, full of dread.

When they reach the upper deck, the festivities are just getting started. Several men among the crew are talented musicians, and they’re merrily playing their favored instruments, creating a lively, energetic song. Torches are lit everywhere, and some men have set up small booths where they’re handing out food they’ve made for the occasion or serving drinks.

The maiden on his arm looks around in wonder, the fear that had haunted her pretty face now gone. “What is all this?” she asks, so surprised by the sight that she spoke to him like a normal person rather than a terrified captive.

He grins down at her. “We sold off the haul we got from the ship you were on. Whenever we end up with more gold than we expected, we like to throw a party to celebrate.”

Her eyes dart around, as if she’s searching for something. “Where are the other women?”

“In the brig, I assume,” he says as he leads her toward his reserved spot in the middle of the deck.

This seems to bother her, but she doesn’t say anymore about it. Sukuna sits on the plush cushion laid out for him, then pulls her into his lap.

“Just for tonight, enjoy yourself. If there’s anything you want to eat or drink, say so. Just don’t leave my side.”

She nods, looking shy again. She spends the next couple hours sampling the foods he has brought over, but only taking a few sips of the rum. Sukuna himself drinks several mugs of it, enjoying the buzz and heat of the alcohol.

The music continues to play, and many of the pirates begin dancing. The maiden watches them with warm eyes. Sukuna watches them too, then turns to her. “Do you want to dance?”

She looks away, flustered. “No, I… I don’t even know how.”

Sukuna downs another mug of rum. He’s never truly been drunk, but drinking this much does make him a little freer with his thoughts and words, putting him in a slightly better mood. He stands up, pulling her with him. “Anyone can dance,” he tells her. “You think these riffraff ever had lessons?”

She glances around at the dancing pirates, all of them moving however they please, no coordination. Sukuna pulls her against him and swings around, moving both their bodies across the deck as the music plays.

The look of surprise on her face makes him grin. The light of the stars above their heads is reflected in her glass-like eyes. He spins her around, thinking that even the ugly dress she’s wearing looks stunning while flowing around her.

He can’t wait to take her back to his quarters and fuck her again, to feel her writhing beneath him, begging him for mercy as he takes her by force.

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

You’re not sure how you feel as Sukuna pulls you into the dance, swaying you in time with the cheerful music. He seems to be in good spirits tonight, and his laugh is infectious. Is it the rum? Or the overall happy and excited feel of the evening? Either way, you feel a bit of relief. Perhaps he won’t be so harsh with you tonight.

At some point, as he twirls you around and then pulls you back into his arms, you feel your own mood becoming brighter. You’re still a captive, still being hurt by him all the time, but your bruised body and aching heart demand that you allow yourself just this moment to feel something other than pain and sorrow.

The dance ends. The music finally stops, and the pirates begin clearing the deck. You feel the brief flash of joy instantly fade away as Sukuna takes your hand and leads you back toward his cabin. He grabs another mug of rum on his way and drains it quickly.

Back in his room, he barely shuts the door before his hands are on you, sliding under the collar of your dress to squeeze your breasts. He’s standing behind you, his mouth on your neck.

“So beautiful,” he mutters, and you freeze. Did he just call you beautiful? The rum must be affecting him.

You can’t stop yourself from asking, “Me?”

He’s still kissing your neck, his hands still groping your flesh. “I’ve been to many lands,” he says, his voice deep and breathy, “I’ve sailed every sea. But I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful than you.”

You feel your heart beating faster. Why does hearing that make you feel this way? He’s a monster! He’s-

“You’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” he asks.

“I… I’m…”

His hand moves down, pulling up the skirt of your dress and settling between your legs, his fingers probing, making your knees buckle.

“Your body is honest. Why can’t you be?”

You shudder from the pleasure, leaning back against his chest. “Yes… I’m attracted to you.”

“Then don’t hold back,” he whispers into your ear. “I told you, touch me as you please.”

You look up at his face. Somehow it seems softer than before. You realize you do want to touch him, but you don’t want him to hurt you. Maybe… if you please him in your own way, would he be satisfied?

Looking away from his eyes, you say shyly in a small voice, “Can you sit on the bed?”

He withdraws from you, and you hate to admit that you immediately miss his fingers. He moves over to the bed and sits down, his legs spread wide. He gives you a smug look. Of course he does.

You step over and lower yourself to your knees, then begin unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. Your fingers shake and your heart pounds, but you manage to free his already hard cock from his clothes. You look at it for a moment, still marveled by its sheer size, then you look up into his eyes as you run your tongue from the base to the tip, along the underside. At the tip, you gently press your tongue in, tasting him thoroughly, before taking him into your mouth.

This is so much more pleasant than the way he roughly fucks your mouth, with you being able to control how deep and how fast he goes. As you swirl your tongue around, coating him in saliva before easing him partway down your throat, you hear him draw in a sharp breath. He’s looking at you with those intense eyes, seeming slightly surprised. Perhaps he’s been so used to being forceful, he didn’t realize how good a slow, wet, adoring blowjob could feel.

So you continue, treating his cock like it’s something precious, beloved. His hand falls on your head, his finger gently threading through your hair. His breaths sound deeper as you lightly suck on his tip before taking him down your throat again. When you feel him twitching, his grip on your hair tightening slightly, you pull away and hold your mouth open, extending your tongue.

It’s an invitation, and he happily accepts, shooting his thick cum onto your waiting tongue. You pull it into your mouth, savoring the taste, letting him see it pooling inside before slowly swallowing it.

A wide smile spreads over his face, and you feel a bizarre sense of pride that you pleased him. He stands up and pulls you to your feet, then quickly pulls your dress over your head, leaving you completely naked. He scoops you up into his arms and carries you bridal style to his bed, where he spreads you out like a meal.

You watch him, breathless, as he climbs onto the bed, between your thighs, and buries his face in your pussy. You can’t suppress a moan when you feel his tongue slip between your folds and lick a stripe up to your clit. Your back arches as his fingers plunge in and out of you while his lips close around your sensitive and swollen nub.

Your hands clench the sheets, your mouth falling open as he devours you. His tongue expertly dances over your flesh, making you scream out his name in ecstasy. Your legs begin to tremble, and his strong hands move to hold them down.

Nothing has ever felt so good, and you have to fight back your own emotions. You can’t fall for him, for this beast who forces himself on you every day, who enjoys your suffering. But your body is singing to his tune, your heart fluttering at even the memory of the dance you shared. What is wrong with you?

Finally you reach release, your hand flying over to bury itself in his hair. He draws back to look at you as you pant to regain your breath. Then, all at once, he jerks your legs up, folding you in half.

“W-wait!” you cry. You don’t think you could handle it if he hurt you now, when you’re so emotionally fragile. “Please, Sukuna, don’t hurt me. Not tonight.”

He bends down and kisses your neck. “Every night,” he murmurs against your skin, “all night. Now scream for me.” Then he rams his cock all the way inside you, fucking you harder than ever before. He’s positively ruthless, ignoring your pleas and cries. In the end your emotions are left frayed and burned, your body battered and bloody.

The next day, you’re covered in fresh bruises, sitting on the floor of his cabin, when another pirate comes in.

“We miscalculated a bit, Capn’. We’re gonna pass awfully close by the island.”

Sukuna frowns. “How close?”

The pirate hesitates, glances at you, then answers. “Close enough for cannon fire to hit us. But I don’t think there’s a strong military presence there. We should be able to squeak by without much trouble.”

“How soon?” Sukuna asks.

“We can already see land, sir.”

Sukuna scoffs and the two men leave the cabin. You sit there replaying their conversation in your mind.

Passing by an island? Close? You’ve always been a very good swimmer. Could you jump ship and swim to shore? Could you finally be free of this torment?

You stand up and pace around the room. You go to the door twice but don’t open it. Why are you hesitating? Because you’re afraid? Or because your confused, broken heart has convinced you that you feel something for the brutal captain?

Minutes pass by as you agonize over what to do. Part of you is ready to run out that door right now. But some tiny part is pulling you back to the captain’s bed.

Finally, you snap back to your senses and run over to the door, easing it open and running outside. At first, the bright sun of the afternoon blinds you, but then you look from side to side. Where is the island?!

With a sense of horror, you realize there is no island. There’s only ocean as far as you can see in every direction. A few feet away, Sukuna is looking at you with a wicked grin.

“You sure took your time,” he says in a cruel, mocking tone. “Most captives make a run for it within seconds. Don’t tell me you were thinking about staying?”

You open your mouth to reply, but no words come out. The sea wind whips around your face as tears flood your eyes. Sukuna walks over to you and grabs your limp arm. “But since you did eventually take the bait and try to escape, you’ll have to be punished. Severely.”

And then he drags you back to his quarters.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #x reader #candys2kevent

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elia-the-bibliophile · 8 hours

Text

Stomach Bug (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff Word count: 1,4k

Max hardly ever gets sick, but when he does, he turns into a complete drama king.

Y/N stepped into the apartment, immediately enveloped by an unsettling darkness. The silence was even more disturbing; the usual hum and glow from Max's sim racing setup were conspicuously absent. Her fingers fumbled for the light switch, fear gripped her heart. When she finally found it, the overhead lights flickered on, casting harsh shadows around the vacant living room.

“Max?” she called out, voice tinged with worry. She received no response, only the quiet pressing back at her. Panic bubbled up, and she hurried through the apartment, her mind racing with possibilities.

In the hallway leading to their bedroom, she tripped over something soft and warm. Looking down, she saw Jimmy and Sassy, their two cats, pacing restlessly. They meowed mournfully, their eyes reflecting the same concern she felt.

With a sense of dread, she pushed open the bedroom door. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly against the outside world. The only light came from a small bedside lamp casting a feeble glow over the disarrayed sheets.

On the bed, Max was curled up in a fetal position, his body trembling slightly. His face was buried in his arms, as if shielding himself. A pained groan escaped his lips.

“Max, oh my god, what's wrong?” she whispered, rushing to his side. She knelt on the floor, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was clammy and feverish.

Max flinched at her touch but didn't move away. “It's... it's the end,” he mumbled dramatically, his voice strained and barely audible. “I'm dying, schatje.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Dying? Max, what happened?” her tone firm but filled with concern. She brushed a few strands of hair that are sticking to his forehead, her fingers lingering to check his temperature. He was burning up.

“It's my stomach,” he groaned, shifting slightly to peer at her with one eye, the other still hidden in his arm. “And I have a fever. I'm pretty sure this is it. Tell the team... tell them I fought bravely.”

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at his theatrics. “Max, honey, you have a stomach flu and a fever. You're not dying.”

“This is no ordinary flu,” he moaned, clutching his stomach. “I can feel my organs plotting against me. They're staging a coup!”

Despite her worry, a chuckle escaped her lips. “A coup, really? Let me get you some medicine and water. Have you taken anything yet?”

“No,” he replied, his voice pitiful. “I was too weak to move. I thought I should conserve my energy for my final moments.”

“Your final moments are a bit overdramatic,” she said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “I'll be right back.”

Oh, if only everyone could witness how ridiculously cute Max Verstappen looks when he's under the weather.

Jimmy and Sassy jumped onto the bed, curling up near Max's feet as if trying to offer their own comfort. Their presence seemed to soothe him slightly, and he let out a shaky breath.

Y/N returned with a glass of water and some medicine. “Here, take these,” she instructed, helping him sit up. He took the pills with exaggerated effort, making a face as he swallowed them.

“Ugh, even the medicine tastes like defeat,” he grumbled.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. “The mighty Max Verstappen, laid low by a stomach bug. The world will mourn.”

He cracked a small, weak smile at her teasing. “Stop it, or I'll vomit just to spite you.”

“You're going to be fine,” she reassured him, peppering a few kisses on the side of his head.“Just rest and let the medicine do its job.”

Max sighed dramatically, closing his eyes. “If I don't make it... remember me as I was. Fast, fearless, and full of life.”

Y/N laughed softly while adjusting his pillow and blanket. “I'll remember you as you are: a dramatic, lovable idiot who will be just fine by morning.”

Max managed a weak smile. “I suppose that's acceptable.”

────────────────────────────────────

Y/N watched Max until his breathing slowed and he finally drifted off to sleep. His dramatic groans and exaggerated expressions faded into peaceful slumber, leaving a quiet calm in the room. She smiled softly before turning her attention to Jimmy and Sassy, who were still perched near Max's feet, their eyes wide and attentive.

“Alright, you two,” Y/N whispered, her tone mock-serious. “I need you to keep an eye on our drama king here while I go make dinner. Think you can handle it?”

Jimmy meowed as if to say, “We got this,” while Sassy flicked her tail, as if acknowledging the weighty responsibility.

Y/N chuckled. “Good. If he wakes up and starts acting like he's on his deathbed again, just give him the 'you're being ridiculous' look. You know the one.”

With one last affectionate glance at Max, she tiptoed out of the bedroom and headed to the kitchen.

As she chopped vegetables, she couldn't help but imagine Jimmy and Sassy as tiny, furry nurses. Jimmy, with a stern expression, patrolling the foot of the bed like a guardian, and Sassy, lounging elegantly, occasionally casting a disapproving glance at Max whenever he stirred or muttered in his sleep.

The thought made her giggle, and she shook her head. “What a day,” she murmured, stirring a pot of carrot soup on the stove.

As she continued cooking, Y/N kept an ear out for any signs of distress from the bedroom. The occasional muffled groan floated down the hallway.

Dinner was almost ready when she heard a particularly loud groan followed by a meow that sounded suspiciously like Jimmy trying to shush Max.

“Looks like my reinforcements are doing their job,” she said with a laugh, pouring the delicious smelling soup into bowls. She added some bread to a plate and carried the tray carefully back to the bedroom.

Entering quietly, she saw that Max was still asleep, albeit with a slightly dramatic frown on his face. Jimmy was curled up by his side, looking very pleased with himself, while Sassy had taken up residence on Max's pillow, one eye half-open in lazy vigilance.

“You two did great,” Y/N whispered, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "Now let's see if we can get him to eat something."

As she gently woke Max, he blinked groggily, his eyes focusing on her. “Schat... what time is it?”

“It's half past eight,” she replied softly.

Max groaned, his face scrunching up in dismay. “Oh no, I was supposed to play padel with Lando, Alex, and the others tonight. I forgot to cancel on them.”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head affectionately. “Don't worry about it. How about I call Lando for you and let him know you're out of commission for the night?”

Even in his sickness, Max managed to give her an incredulous look. “Why do you even bother asking? You can open my phone anytime. You're practically the other half of my brain.”

She laughed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab his phone. “I just like to be polite, you know? Didn't want to intrude on any top-secret racing strategies.”

Max chuckled weakly, then winced as his stomach reminded him of its displeasure. “Trust me, no strategies. Just lots and lots of cat memes.”

Unlocking his phone, Y/N scrolled through his contacts until she found Lando's number. She pressed the call button, holding the phone to her ear while keeping an eye on Max.

After a few rings, Lando's cheerful voice answered, “Max! Where are you, mate?”

“Hi, Lando, it's actually Y/N,” she said. “Max is feeling pretty terrible right now. Stomach flu and a fever.”

“Oh no, poor Max.” Lando replied, his tone immediately concerned. “Is he going to survive, or do we need to send an ambulance?”

Max, overhearing the conversation, groaned dramatically from the bed. “Tell him I'm fighting valiantly but I don't know if I'll make it.”

Y/N relayed the message, rolling her eyes playfully. “He says he's fighting valiantly but might not make it.”

Lando laughed. “Classic Max. Tell him to rest up and we'll catch him next time. And give him our best.”

“Will do, Lando. Thanks,” Y/N said, ending the call. She turned back to Max, who was watching her with a tired but grateful smile.

“You always know how to handle everything,” he said softly.

She smiled, setting his phone back on the nightstand and handing him the bowl of soup. “That's what I'm here for. Now, eat this. It's carrot soup, made with love.”

He took the bowl, looking at her with genuine affection. “Thanks, schatje. You're the best. This smells lovely.”

As he eats, Jimmy and Sassy moved in closer, as if to supervise the meal. Y/N sat beside him, ready to keep his spirits high.

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waywardserpent176389053 · 3 days

Text

Natsuki's Doki Doki Panic Chapter Two

Here is the second chapter, this time with editing provided by the talented @nursepunkdreams.

Circling Darkness

At first, Natsuki could only feel the throbbing of her heart. It was hummingbird fast, uncountable, and as tentative as the slight beat of their wings.

And it hurt. God, did it hurt. As though someone had sunk several needles into her chest and her heart was being forced to contract around them.

But that wasn’t quite right. Her other senses trickled in one after another. More pain. The soft hiss of compressed air; something strapped to her face, and a scattering of smaller somethings attached to her chest. A shrill, rapid beeping…

She winced. She was in motion, for sure—whoever was driving had hit some rough road. She tensed and tried to focus on something else.

Natsuki finally opened her eyes. She recognized the interior of an ambulance right away and tried to take it all in. An intravenous line snaked into her arm, and a dozen EKG electrodes covered her naked chest. A green mask fitted around her face fogged with her every breath.

Her vision wouldn’t quite focus, no matter how much she willed it to, and her thoughts didn’t fare much better. The whats, the whys, the hows of everything—it all escaped her.

“Hey there.” The paramedic noticed her wandering eyes. He gently touched the side of her face to center her gaze on him. “You just rest, okay? You’ve been through a lot. We’ve got you.”

She wanted to demand some answers, but was distracted by someone touching her shoulder. It looked like…

“It’s okay. I’m here too,” Monika reassured her in a soft tone. She watched worriedly as the other paramedic inched his stethoscope around her chest. “You fainted in the club room… so we’re just going to the hospital for a checkup. That’s all.” She placed her hand in Natsuki’s.

The paramedic let out a short sigh when he finished his examination and replaced the instrument around his neck.

“Still tachy. ETA?” He called out to the front.

“A minute, if that.”

Natsuki allowed herself to take some relief in that. The hospital would fix everything, right?

“Ah—” Her breath caught with a particularly painful spasm of her heart. The patient monitor sounded off with a new alarm as the spasms continued, and her hopes began to wane.

“She’s throwing some strong PVCs,” the paramedic said. He looked concerned scanning the monitor’s readout. “Hanging out around 180—pulse ox is dropping…”

Natsuki didn’t understand what the words meant. She looked to Monika for context and found her looking down at her, tense with worry—even more so than before.

That couldn’t be good.

“We’re here,” Monika gently relayed the information to her with a hand on her face. “I’ll be close by, okay…?”

She barely registered what she had said. There was a bit of jostling, some fussing by some unseen hands and the voices attached to them; the panel lights flashing overhead… but all she could focus on was her heart, beating out of control. It skipped and stuttered along in double-time, threatening to give out…

Then she came to a stop. She thought she glimpsed a sign that said ‘Cardiac Care Unit’, but she didn’t have time to think about it further. Suddenly her body was aloft, and then manhandled into position on a new bed. On every side, people were a blur of activity and an indiscernible torrent of medical jargon she couldn't hope to understand.

“Hi there Natsuki, are you with us?” One of her attendants spoke loudly and clearly, but still with a reassuring lilt. She waved her hand in front of her face. “There you are. You’re at the hospital, okay? Your heartbeat is very irregular, and we need to give it a little jolt to get it back to normal…”

She continued talking, explaining, but the words faded. On her opposite side, another medic was readying a defibrillator. She’d seen them, in movies, of course—but never in real life. The heavy capacitors were placed on her chest: one under her collarbone and the other under her breast. The team stepped back, and the man holding the paddles shot her a sympathetic look.

The shock was sharp and sudden, so much so that she hardly grasped that it had happened at all. She gasped, the trace read flat, and she became hyper aware of her heart. For a second, she was able to trace every part of her rebellious cardiac organ. Every blood vessel, valve, nerve, all of it; as though she could view it in a three-dimension space…

Then the muscle contracted. Once more, blood rushed to the rest of her body. She started to hyperventilate. The sensation—the awareness—was overwhelming. The monitor continued to broadcast a rhythm that was far too rapid.

“No change—still v-tach…”

She braced for the worst. The twin capacitors settled onto her chest once more.

The second shock struck her. The muscles of her back tightened and thrust her body against the defibrillator paddles, as if trying to buck them off. Her heart clenched like a fist, the electricity forcing a contraction. She slumped back onto the bed and her heart relaxed, still for a moment, then one beat… another…

No third beat. Natsuki’s heart, tired from all it had been through, merely twitched and spasmed.

She felt like she was sinking. The action around her grew more frantic—one medic rushed forward to compress her chest, another grabbed a bag-valve mask as her breath fled her lungs in a drawn out wheeze.

Her vision frayed into darkness at its edges. She feared the worst, but…

She could still see.

A medic frantically worked her chest, caving her ribs with every shove. Another tore off her mask and replaced it with the bag valve. She squeezed the bulb fast and steady, raising her chest with each repetition. It brought an ache in her ribs to her attention, and she found herself with the wherewithal to wonder if it was broken. Having barely finished her thought, she also noticed the pain of her ordeal was rapidly subsiding.

This is so embarrassing… Natsuki thought when her head was a little clearer. She hadn’t bared her chest for anyone in recent memory, but now a whole half dozen—or more—got to behold her pathetic body. She could feel her small breasts jiggling with each thrust, and going by what parts of her body felt clothed… she was only wearing her pink panties and white socks.

Natsuki thought she might expire fully right then and there.

She was reminded of the gravity of her situation then. She was fucking dying.

No… no! Not like this! She couldn’t reconcile with it. Her life had been utterly terrible for so long—it was only just getting good. She had a nice place to live! A crush on a cute girl! And she most certainly did not deserve to die from a sudden heart attack. She still needed to graduate, start a bakery… have sex at least once—not put into a casket at the ripe old age of fucking eighteen.

The compressions stopped, and the defibrillator was placed against her once more.

Please work, Natsuki begged. The current rippled through her and arched her back. Her jaw clenched, and for a second, all she saw was light. It rapidly gave way to darkness.

The void lingered just long enough to make her think this might be it. But she realized—she could still think, and then, she heard the noises around her. They were muffled, as though coming from the next room over, but enough for her to cling to for dear life. There was an alarm—shrill, persistent; a backdrop against the desperate voices of the team working her code.

She became aware of the compressions resuming next—suddenly acutely aware of her ribs being forced down; of her sternum pushing into her heart. The weight moved the arrested muscle down, stopped only by her spine; her ribs growing more pliable and fragile by the second. Beneath her chest wall, the organ was squeezed like a rubber ball; the valves within forced open as the blood was ejected. She could feel it—the blood pushed through the hungry arteries… and could discern, somehow, that it wasn’t nearly as effective as her heart beating normally. Between each thrust, her heart would swell as the blood rushed back.

All of this, in less than a second. But time dilated beyond all meaning now. The artificial rhythm continued at pace, and Natsuki felt the cadence with exacting clarity. Her heart continued to twitch. It reminded her of a plate of gelatin being shaken.

It occurred to her then—she hadn’t really considered her cardiac health all that much. Sure, she’d been a bit worried about it recently, but she didn’t think about it as a distinct part of her. She supposed she’d abstracted it somewhat—it having took on the appearance of a classic cartoon heart in her mind's eye, rather than the complicated mass of muscle it actually was.

Natsuki tried to give herself a shake. The present moment was far more pressing than this weird little detour her mind had taken… she needed that heart to beat again.

The compressions let up and air flooded her lungs. She relished the feeling. Breathing was good…

More of that, please…

She was met with more compressions. It would have been a relaxing cycle, if not for the mortal terror of it all.

Attempting to shift her mind elsewhere, she thought of her heart again. She could feel it so clearly, after all… perhaps she could figure out what the hell was wrong with it. She imagined turning it over in her hands, looking for anything amiss.

Her mouth being forced open broke her train of thought.

Oh… that’s kind of unpleasant… she thought dreamily as the endotracheal tube was guided down her throat. She wanted to gag, but didn’t, and when air came again at last, it inflated her lungs even more than before.

Alright, tube… I forgive you, Natsuki thought, still dazed. She allowed herself to luxuriate in the newfound oxygen and expected the cycle to resume, but it didn’t—instead of the hands ramming her heart, she felt two familiar weights against her chest.

Natsuki steeled herself as best she could.

Please, shocky things… please work—

The defibrillation forced her eyes open for a moment. Her heart, as with every shock before, locked up and ceased its twitching. She could see her chest arching against the paddles; the large, ugly bruise that had settled between her breasts; the breathing tube taped in place at her lips, and the many medics desperately trying to save her.

Maybe she was imagining things, but… she thought they didn’t look particularly hopeful. Her organ had stilled. There was an agonal contraction after a long pause, and then it started quivering again.

Natsuki groaned. The shock had hurt like hell. And not only that, but it had failed to revive her. At the very least… the pain was evidence she was still alive. It had to be. She tried to recenter herself, but—

They must have increased the voltage. The electricity snaked through her muscles, pulling each one taut as the current leaped from one paddle to the other. Her spine bowed and her heart seized with the current. She could trace the individual nerves of the organ as they fired all at once, the muscles at their end squeezing with as much strength as they could spare. Then—as before—it relaxed and returned to spasming.

Natsuki was getting a little frustrated now. Weren’t they supposed to call out ‘clear’ or something? A little more warning would be nice…

The compressions returned, and she began to riddle over her fibrillating organ once more. There must be an issue with her nerves—they were still sending out signals, but not the right ones. That must be why her heart was shaking instead of contracting. She traced her own cardiac nerves, trying to find which ones weren’t working, not sure what she would do if she found the right one…

The paddles were placed around her heart again.

Okay… gotta focus, she thought, with newfound determination. When the shock comes, I gotta force that nerve to—

The defibrillation rocked her body. Her heart contracted; its electrical signals scrambled. Natsuki traced the current…

There!

At the top of her heart, there was an entire cluster of nerves firing all at once from the external current. One of those nerves stood out to her, and even though she couldn’t tell how… she knew that was the one.

The charge dissipated, and her heart fell still. It stayed still.

The sinking feeling from earlier came back tenfold and Natsuki fought hard to keep her head above water. She was suddenly so cold, and the sounds from outside grew ever indistinct. She could only just barely make out the team’s voices…

“Asystole…!” One attendant shouted.

“Losing her!” She heard another cry.

The sensation of the chest compressions returned to her, but numb and distant.

Her life flashed before her eyes. Memories from the early days, when her mom was still around… those fleeting peaceful moment between the shouting matches and slamming doors. She hadn’t taken Natsuki with her, when she left—and she’d always blamed herself for that.

She was a pitiful child, after all. There were the years where she barely had any friends—thin and destitute, scrounging around for whatever food that man left for her—never enough to fill her. She was reminded of learning to bake, so she wouldn’t starve over summer break, and the comics she gorged herself on to give her any sense of hope.

More recent images flashed before her. Like joining the Literature Club and meeting all of her new friends.

That man being arrested, freeing her at last.

Planning for college. Baking new things—not for survival, but for fun.

All of it so recent. And so, so short.

Natsuki suddenly saw that all she would amount to would be a girl who never got the chance to really live—who got only the smallest taste of a good life before it was cruelly snatched away.

The darkness boiled around her; the cold threatening to consume her.

No!

She was not going to die!

Natsuki desperately thrashed against the death that surrounded her. She could still feel her body—the chest compressions, the air pumped to her lungs; the faint sounds of the efforts to revive her. She pushed upward, as if swimming towards the surface of an endless lake.

Natsuki had spent years reading manga. She tended toward slice of life and comedy—stories of girls just hanging out and having a good time, but she had read a bit of everything. Horror, romance, erotica, dramas, sometimes even action/adventure, if she was feeling a bit bored of her usual fare.

She envisioned herself as the protagonists of one of these adventures. Downtrodden, bloody—but standing up and defying the odds nonetheless. The second wind was coming.

She was going to survive this.

In her mind’s eye, she wrestled with her heart; begged it function. She pleaded and coaxed, and then, she was overwhelmed by an awful, acidic burning sensation in her veins. It moved closer to her heart with each press on her sternum, and she felt sick about it, but she knew it was likely the doctors still trying to save her and tolerated it as best she could.

The drugs soon arrived at her cardiac center. Nerves, once quiet, began to fire again. Slowly at first, then swiftly gaining speed—before long, the muscles attached returned to their unconditioned shaking.

Yes! Natsuki reveled in her triumph, even though it was largely the drugs that had done the heavy lifting.

Come on! Hit me again, shocky things!

As though the team could hear her, the weights of the paddles were promptly settled onto her chest again. Natsuki readied herself, but her timing was off. The fibrillation continued, and she prepared for the next jolt.

Three, two, one…

Another current rolled through her and she rode along it, pouring every ounce of her will into forcing her heart to beat once more. The cardiac muscles tightened, then relaxed, then remained still.

The darkness swirled around her. Natsuki clung to the light.

That was supposed to work, damn it!

Time was dilating again, and the creeping coldness settling in was fogging her mind. The distance between the compressions and voices stretched on further and further, as though she were adrift at sea, being pulled further and further away by the unforgiving yet undeniably gentle tide…

She felt more acidic drugs pouring into her veins and thought—for a scant moment—that her heart would react and start spasming again. But the organ did not respond. The voices of the medics cut in and out, hazy; painfully indistinct. Despite her senses failing, she still picked up the droning cry of the monitor, a flatline certainly running across it. In her altered state, it signaled to her that there was some great, terrible predator stalking around her, waiting to take her into dissolution.

My name… she thought desperately. It’s… my name is Natsuki. I like good manga, cute things… and baking! She tightened her focus. And… I love my friends, Monika, Sayori, and Yuri. God, Yuri… if I live for anyone, it’ll be for you!

She held onto this thought loop for dear life. A shield against the tide, against the cold, against the predator stalking near… if she could just hold onto herself… her friends…

Something changed. It was hard for her to focus on other things, but this was different. The compressions had stopped, but her heart wasn’t twitching. The asystole alarm continued, although distorted, as if she was hearing it underwater.

Oh… they gave up… she thought, despondent.

After all that, despite everything, her time was up.

The immense void moved in.

Yuri…!

She was numb, completely and utterly, but… there was no doubting it. She was being cut open. She struggled to remember why that might be happening.

Was she… dead? Was this a morgue; an autopsy? Something cold forced her ribs apart, snapping them like twigs.

That hurt. That hurt!

She remembered the names of her beloved friends and focused on the pain.

If I can still feel pain… then I must be… still alive…

Something new invaded her chest. They wrapped around her heart and squeezed. Hands, maybe. Blood shot through her arteries.

Natsuki rallied.

They haven’t given up! They’re still trying!

Her mind was scattered, but she tried to focus. She centered her attention on her stubborn heart.

Come on… work! Do something!

More drugs. It all felt so terrible, but she grit her teeth and didn’t dare break her focus.

A flutter. Then another, then her whole heart was thick with fibrillation once more. She could feel it so clearly; it was injured, weakened from its ordeal. The repeated shocks, the drugs, the lack of oxygen… and something deeper.

Some small thing that had always been there.

Natsuki lacked the vocabulary for it, but she knew, more than anything, it was the root cause. It wasn’t her nerves misfiring for seemingly no reason—it was this. This little thing she didn’t have a name for.

This flaw.

Small metal discs were placed against her heart.

Mini shocky things… she thought hazily. She knew she didn’t have much fight left. The creature stalked, just outside her perception, she knew—waiting for her to slip up.

Wait for the right—

Her heart was the sun as the charge smashed into it. Even though the capacitors were smaller, it was many, many times more intense.

Natsuki shook it off and readied herself. Her heart continued to shake meaninglessly.

Heh… rule of threes, she thought wryly. It’s now or never…!

The third hit. As her nerves sparked and fired; as the cardiac muscles clinched; as blood sloshed forward from the artificial beat—Natsuki took hold of one thought and bent all her will towards its success. She screamed it, howled it, bellowed it:

BEAT!!!

The heart relaxed as the charge dissipated. It was still.

Then, a nerve fired. Others followed. The muscle contracted—dared to contract.

And again. Then it stumbled, but caught itself.

Ba-dup… ba-dup… ba-dup…

If she could, Natsuki would have collapsed out of sheer relief.

She’d lived. She’d fucking lived.

She knew that her heart was still in poor shape; that she wasn’t out of the woods just yet. But that didn’t matter.

For now, she was alive. The rest could come later.

A new darkness rose around her, a friendlier one—a blanket of simple unconsciousness. She took the offer; she was exhausted in her bones. Her friends' faces rushed past her; she’d kept them. Held on so tight. Let them guide her back to the world of the living.

“I’ll see you soon, okay…?” she murmured, too quiet and indistinct for anyone to hear.

Her heart continued to beat. It was battered… and Natsuki knew, deep down, than it wouldn’t last much longer in the grand scheme of things. But for now, it would fulfill its function. Softly, as if exhausted itself, it beat.

And Natsuki lived.

#resus #cardiophile #cardiophilia #heartbeat #female resus #female heartbeat #storytelling #defib #female defib #cpr #resus writing

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adhd-merlin · 19 hours

Text

in all ways but one

Relationships: Arthur/Lancelot; background Arthur/Gwen Rating: Gen Length: 2,500 words Summary: The homosexual side of the classic Arthurian love triangle, featuring jealousy, repressed bisexuals, and Unresolved Sexual Tension. Literally just this:

(x)

Excerpt:

It's all easy enough to ignore, at first. A lingering glance here, a fond smile there – things easy to brush off and hard to notice, unless someone were looking for the signs. Arthur notices.

***

"In all ways but one, Lancelot was a man of honour." — Arthur in episode 4x09 (Lancelot Du Lac)

After Lancelot gets knighted for the third time, and for the first time properly, there is still a certain awkwardness between him and Gwen. From the sidelines, Arthur watches them soldier on and ignore it for the sake of courtly manners, and probably for his sake, too. That which resolve has started, time finishes, slowly wearing away the thin layer of stiff formality between them.

Given he loves them both, Arthur should be glad of their rediscovered friendship. Sometimes he is. Other times, he has to remind himself to be.

***

It's all easy enough to ignore, at first. A lingering glance here, a fond smile there – things easy to brush off and hard to notice, unless someone were looking for the signs. Arthur notices.

He trusts them both with his life, which is why he says nothing. Gwen acts with the ease that only a guilt-free conscience can grant, and Arthur is almost as sure of Lancelot's love as he is of Gwen's. Neither of them would ever cross the line.

And yet.

And yet, it's difficult for Arthur to keep his jealousy at bay when he knows, deep down, that he won that initial fight for Gwen’s heart not by his own strength, but by default. He has tried not to wonder whose side Gwen would be sitting at if Lancelot had not left, but sometimes he falls into temptation. He’s come up with different answers at different times.

***

For Gwen’s first anniversary as queen, Arthur arranges a great feast and a tournament. Not very original, according to Merlin, but Gwen seems pleased. Even more so when Lancelot kneels at her feet and humbly begs her to allow him to fight in her honour. She accepts.

The next day, Arthur fights Lancelot at training. His blows, perhaps, land a bit harder than usual, and he might throw Lancelot on the ground with more force than strictly necessary. Lancelot says nothing. Arthur's right arm is so bruised afterwards that it hurts to lift anything heavier than a goblet of wine for an entire day.

The day of the tournament, Arthur plasters on a smile as he watches Gwen tie her monogrammed silk handkerchief around Lancelot's arm. He thinks of the much humbler favour she gave him, years ago, right before he kissed her for the first time. As they sit on the royal dais, watching the tournament, Arthur has to endure every one of Gwen's soft gasps and sighs of relief as Lancelot works his way through his opponents with single-minded efficiency. He wins the tournament, of course. Arthur wasn't expecting any less.

***

He will not humiliate himself or wrong them by asking them to stop.

And to stop doing what, exactly? They haven't breached any law of propriety, unless perhaps in spirit, in the privacy of their own hearts, which Arthur prefers to remain ignorant about.

At times, Arthur thinks it would be easier to bear it if he did not care for Lancelot as much as he does. He still feels indebted to him for stepping aside, with his customary grace, when it was clear that Gwen’s affections did not lie where Arthur had hoped.

And he understands entirely what drew Gwen to Lancelot – he might not have been a prince, and he's not a king, but he's as valiant a knight as Arthur ever was, true-hearted, chivalrous, and with a spirit noble enough to make up for his humble origins.

He's a few more things besides, things Arthur could never aspire to be – patient, sensitive, modest. Lancelot would not throw his goblet at his servant in a fit of anger, not even one as disrespectful as Merlin. He would not brag about his fighting skills, even though he's the best swordsman Arthur has ever met. If he were to find out Lancelot reads poetry in his free time, Arthur wouldn't be surprised.

Lancelot is, in short, perfect in every way – with the singular exception of being in love with his king's wife, and even this he does with such selflessness that it is almost enough to wipe away the stain of blame. Almost.

Be it as it may, Arthur can hardly fault the man for loving Gwen. He, of all people, knows very well how hard it is not to.

***

Despite Arthur’s best intentions, his worry and irritation start to show. They manifest in mean and petty ways, unbecoming of a friend, let alone a king – picking Lancelot for the most unpleasant rounds of patrol, ignoring him in council meetings, being liberal with criticism and stingy with praise on the training field.

Lancelot accepts it all with resigned obedience, which makes Arthur feel even worse.

***

One afternoon, Lancelot knocks on the door of Arthur's chambers. Gwen isn't there, having left to go explore the market stalls in the lower town. Sometimes, she asks Lancelot to accompany her – not today, it seems.

“Have I displeased you in some way, sire?” Lancelot asks, cutting straight to the point.

Arthur doesn't even lift his eyes from the letter he was writing. “What makes you think so?”

“Your attitude, sire,” Lancelot says, levelly, but with uncharacteristic bluntness. Arthur lifts his eyes then, arching his eyebrows at him. Lancelot meets his gaze, undaunted. “Forgive me, but I must speak the truth. You have always shown me extraordinary kindness, and you have been most gracious in accepting me amongst your knights, despite… what happened in the past–”

“I do not care about your little ruse, Lancelot, I told you,” Arthur interrupts him, jamming his quill in the inkwell. “It's forgiven.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lancelot looks at Arthur with the same determined expression he wears on the training field, when he's squaring up to an opponent. It is clear he won't be dancing around the obvious any longer. “That isn't what I meant, sire. I do not wish to come between you and the queen.”

Arthur snorts. “Don't be presumptuous. What goes on between Guinevere and me does not concern you.”

“But what goes on between her and me concerns you,” Lancelot says. The withering look Arthur shoots him is not enough to stop him from taking a step forward. “I can see it, sire. I know that Gwen's heart belongs to you entirely, but I fear that my presence here is giving you cause to doubt it, and I do not wish to trouble your peace.” He stands straighter before announcing: “That is why I decided to leave Camelot.”

Panic pierces Arthur’s chest, as sharp and unexpected as a strike from a friend’s sword. “Don't be absurd,” he sneers, trying to mask his agitation with arrogance.

Lancelot maintains his composure. “I'm sorry, sire,” he simply says, and he genuinely looks it.

Arthur springs to his feet so abruptly his chair topples to the floor. Neither of them flinches. He walks around his desk, coming to stand in front of Lancelot. He cannot explain the anger that sweeps through him at Lancelot’s cool resolve.

Suddenly he’s a young prince again, watching the best knight he’s ever met slip through his fingers, and powerless to stop it – an unbearable feeling for a king who’s since grown used to having things go his way.

“You swore an oath to me and Camelot,” Arthur says, trying to keep his anger from his voice. “To protect us both, and to serve me. Is your word really of so little worth?” A strange leap of association leads him to think of Gwen, left broken-hearted and tearful without so much as a goodbye after a narrow escape from a harrowing ordeal. With a few years’ delay, he feels outraged on her behalf. “Of course, that's your solution to all problems, isn't it, Lancelot? Running away. Guinevere won't be surprised to hear it – you did it once before, after all.”

He can see in Lancelot’s eyes that his words have wounded him, as he intended.

“I did it for you, sire, as much as her,” Lancelot says, quietly. “And it's for the love I bear you both that I beseech you now to release me from my oath.”

Even with a mind clouded by anger, Arthur hears what Lancelot is not saying. “You don't believe she would have chosen me.”

For the first time since he entered Arthur’s chambers, Lancelot's assuredness wavers. “I cannot presume to know what was in her heart,” he replies, but he lowers his eyes as he says it.

“And yet you left.”

“I didn't want to put her in the position of having to make a choice,” Lancelot says, because of course he would be the better man and think of others first, when Arthur was only thinking about himself. “When she confessed her feelings for me, she thought she might not live long enough to see you again.”

Arthur scoffs. “So it didn't count?”

“I only meant that she might not have been as forthright if we had met again under different circumstances.”

“But you don't doubt the truth of what she said,” Arthur insists, like a dog with a bone, not knowing himself what mad urge is driving him to drag the truth out of Lancelot when he's been trying to ignore it for so long.

Lancelot takes a moment to reply. “I believe she meant what she said, at the time,” he says, carefully, “and that she still holds me in esteem, despite what happened. That is all I can hope for. That is more than enough for me.”

“It’s not, though,” Arthur says, shaking his head. “You love her.”

The truth, now bare and undeniable, stands between them. Some emotion, which Arthur cannot name, flits across Lancelot's face at that accusation, like a ripple on the surface of a pond.

“I love her, sire, as much as I love you,” Lancelot says, his eyes as earnest and guileless as they were years ago, when, in a damp and dingy cell, he pleaded Arthur to let him ride at his side on a suicidal mission.

Arthur lets out a single burst of bitter laughter. “No, you don't.”

As he says this, Arthur’s anger evaporates, leaving only hurt in its place. He's not sure what pains him more – that Lancelot's love for Gwen surpasses his commitment to him, or that he would lie to Arthur's face about it.

“But I do, Arthur,” Lancelot protests. “I do.” He looks and sounds distressed, as if Arthur were doing him wrong by not believing him.

Lancelot's eyes search Arthur's face, hoping to find some trace of understanding. There is too much in those eyes – too much trembling honesty, despite his lies; too much devotion, for a man who was threatening to leave a mere moment ago – something too naked, too telling, so much so that Arthur feels the need to avert his eyes, as he did once, years ago, in that dingy cell. When he does so, Lancelot places his hand on Arthur’s face, turning it towards him again – and then, before Arthur can react, he presses his lips to his mouth.

It's a frantic gesture; a last resort. Arthur can tell from the way Lancelot's hand trembles on his cheek, from the desperation with which he pushes his mouth against his, all passion and no grace. Even so, the kiss lasts right up to the point of endurance, as if Lancelot needed Arthur to believe him. Perhaps he does – he is a man of honour; Arthur is certain he hates to be taken for a liar almost as much as he hates to lie.

Arthur doesn’t pull back, but he does not respond, either. He stands still and stiff, merely closing his eyes as he submits to Lancelot's tender assault out of confusion.

At last, the kiss ends. Lancelot takes his hand away and steps back, his eyes downcast, his face pale. Arthur just looks at him, with his mouth slightly open, too shocked to speak.

“Forgive me,” Lancelot says, his eyes fixed on Arthur’s boots. “I… I must go.”

He makes for the door, but Arthur’s hand, moving with no input from his mind, grabs Lancelot's wrist and pulls him back.

“No,” Arthur says, almost choking on the word. “Please. Stay.”

He's not entirely sure what he's asking, if he means ‘don't leave this chamber’ or ‘don't leave Camelot’; he only knows that he means: ‘don't leave me’, that the thought of Lancelot leaving is unbearable, just as it was the first time he did it, when Arthur had to watch the best man he ever met – the first man who ever truly understood what it meant to be a knight, perhaps better than Arthur himself – walk out of his life, leaving him with a feeling of loss he couldn't fully understand.

But Lancelot pulls his hand out of Arthur's grasp. “I'm sorry,” he says. There is genuine sorrow in his eyes.

Lancelot turns and leaves, and Arthur lets him go.

***

That night, Arthur seeks comfort in Gwen's body with an urgency that leads her to ask him what is wrong.

“Nothing,” Arthur lies, with a kiss between her breasts, because he can't very well tell her, ‘Lancelot is leaving us, and it is all my fault.’

Gwen looks unconvinced, but she pries no further.

***

The next morning, Arthur wakes with a feeling of dread, surprised that he's slept at all. He goes through his usual morning rituals with impressive stoicism – he eats his breakfast, reads the patrol report, and has Merlin prepare him for his training session, all the while listening to Merlin's mindless prattle, and never once throwing something heavy at his head.

He walks onto the training field much earlier than usual, expecting to find no one – but someone is already there, practising with a sword on a straw dummy. The distance is too great to make out much of him, but the precision and the swiftness of his movements are enough for Arthur to recognise the man at a glance. He starts walking faster.

“Lancelot,” Arthur breathes out when he's but a few steps away from him.

Lancelot turns. He doesn't bow to Arthur, as he normally would; instead, he wipes his sweaty brow with the back of his hand and looks at him warily. “Sire,” he says. He shifts his grip on the hilt of his sword.

“You're still here,” Arthur blurts out – an observation worthy of Merlin's wit, but the obvious relief in his voice seems to put Lancelot at ease.

Lancelot sheathes his sword. “You were right, sire. I took an oath to serve you and Camelot, so I'll endeavour to do so.” He pauses and adds, hesitantly: “That is, if you'll still have me.”

Arthur smiles at him without even meaning to. “I wouldn't wish you to be anywhere else.”

Lancelot's face clears up. “Then I remain your loyal servant,” he says, with feeling, and he bows.

Of course he is, just as he ever was, and Arthur was a fool to doubt it. The realisation hits him with staggering force, and it's all he can do not to embrace Lancelot.

He claps his hand on Lancelot's shoulder and squeezes it, instead. “Think you can beat me today?” he asks.

“I'll do my best,” Lancelot promises, almost solemnly.

Of course. “You always do, Lancelot,” Arthur says with warmth through the odd tightness in his throat. He backs a few steps and draws his sword, adjusting his grip with a twirl of his wrist. “Come on, then.”

With a happy smile, Lancelot unsheathes his sword.

#no plot just vibes <3 #make some noise if you like this. I've neglected work for this #low-key obsessed with that quote from ep 4x09 #I'll probably post this to ao3 too but it needs a polish first I think #arlance #arthur x lancelot #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin fanfiction #*

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hazzybat · 1 day

Note

6 bokris pleasee 🩷🙏

...on a falling tear

I went for teenage BoKris for this one. I don't think I've ever written them as teenagers and I was absolutely a bit drunk writing this but I actually kinda love it. Enjoy!

Technically all of them had drunk before. They'd gotten drunk several times in fact even before Kris had turned 18, although he wouldn't tell his parents that. But there was something about tonight, as he was laying on his bedroom floor on the night of his 18th birthday that felt different.

Kris and Jan were sharing a bottle of Jack, at this point in the night taking sips straight from the bottle. Kris was already a bit past buzzed, his speech sloppy and head fuzzy.

He looked up at his friends on the bed, Bojan laughing too loud at a stupid face Jan pulled. He looked so pretty, his hair looking soft, his shirt mostly unbuttoned and his laugh carefree.

Kris felt his chest tighten. He wanted him. Wanted all of him so badly. Normally he could control it, control the way his heart raced every time Bojan glanced at him, that cheeky, jokingly flirtatious smirk on his lips. He could control his thoughts as they asked how Bojan tasted, what noised Kris could pull from him if they were alone in his bed.

Tonight though it was too hard. The reality of being 18, of being an adult and having to think about his future felt to scary. All he could see was Jan and Bojan. All he knew was he wanted them in his life forever and he wanted Bojan so much it hurt.

He sat up, his head spinning slightly as he dragged himself up and stumbled out the door and into the kitchen.

He poured himself some water and tried to ignore the thoughts in his head, the thoughts about kissing Bojan, about holding his hand and calling him his. He jumped when he heard a knock on the wall, spinning around to see his best friend standing in the doorway.

"What's up?" Bojan asked concerned, even if he was swaying slightly and his eyes struggled a bit to focus.

He couldn't stop the truth from pouring out of his. Couldn't hide the pain in his heart.

"I can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?" Bojan asked, stepping closer, his hand reaching for Kris but faltering at the last minute.

"I can't pretend I don't have feelings for you." Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe the late hour but Kris couldn’t make himself care anymore. He needed Bojan to know. He couldn’t keep dancing around him, pretending every touch was platonic, pretending he didn't fantasise about growing old with him, having a family, having a life with him.

"I can't keep pretending I don't love you, more than anyone else." He felt hot tears escape his eyes and stream down his face, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I can't keep doing this so either tell me you love me too or reject me so I can get over you".

Kris couldn't make himself look at Bojan, couldn't bare to see his reaction. He didn't look until he felt lips on his cheek, kissing away the tears still falling. Bojan moved to his lips, pressing softly against his own, then harder, wrapping his arms around Kris’s waist, pulling him close.

Kris’s head spun. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or the feeling of Bojan's lips against his that did it but he kissed back, his hand in Bojan's hair, unwilling to have his warmth leave him for even a moment.

"I love you Kris, so fucking much," Bojan said, voice horse and his own tears now falling freely. "I want you so much."

They kissed and kisses and kissed until Kris’s tears were dry and he felt drunk from a different, addicting chemical.

(Bonus bit?)

Kris had almost forgotten they had another member of their friend group until Jan burst in and threw up into the sink next to them.

He rinsed out his mouth and looked up at them, still in each other's arm against the counter.

"Did you finally confess your feelings?" Jan asked, a lopsided smile on his face.

#bokris #joker out #kiss prompt #fuck it i gave them an early confession cause i like them being together sinde they were young #i dunno why i like this one but i doo #kris guštin #bojan cvjetićanin #pining #angst? i dunno if this counts as angst lol

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snowyquokka · 6 hours

Text

MONSOON - L. MINHO

cw - mature themes MDNI, fem!reader, brothers best friend!Minho, swearing, angst, fluff (kinda?), mentions of alcohol, mutual pining, somewhat proof read, yada yada yada

wc - 3k

a.n - I FINISHED IT. im not sure how many parts there’ll be but here’s this for now :)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Your heart is beating at the same frequency as the music blaring through your ears whilst making your way to the front door of the shitty little run down frat house. You’ve managed to throw back three rounds of vodka shots without puking and you were feeling a bit proud of yourself. But you have enough self respect to know when to call it quits. The cheap liquor did it’s intended purpose. That purpose being forgetting about someone.

Or not.

You roll your eyes drowsily as you push your way through the door and onto the surprisingly somewhat empty porch. Plopping down on the top step, you pull out your phone before pressing the only emergency contact you have.

“Aw you do care enough to call me,” Jisung’s grin is present in his soft voice.

“Mhm, yeah care- sure. Erm, busy?” There’s some muffled laughter in the background followed by some shuffling before he finally answers.

“I- are you-“ he cuts himself off and whispers something incoherent, “Scale of one to ten?” Due to your recent lack of responsibility, as Jisung calls it, he’s set up a scale system to determine how wasted you are.

One being buzzed, tipsy at best.

Ten being, well, absolutely plastered.

“Eight and a h-half?” you hiccup.

More muffled whispers are followed by, “What am I going to do with you.” and “Send me your location,”

After what seemed like an eternity of being surrounded by makeout sessions and college kids blowing chunks into the nearby hedges, a familiar car finally pulls up to the curb.

You stand up, albeit a little too fast, but you still make it to your feet. The sound of a car door slamming rings in your ears, leading up to warm, gentle hands carefully lifting your arm over their shoulder in order to help get in the passenger side of the car.

“Han- Minho?” Big brown eyes stare into yours as he leans over you and buckles your seatbelt. His expression’s blank, but it always is when he looks at you.

Minho looks at you for another moment before shaking his head, as if he’s snapping himself out of a trance, and shuts the door.

It was only about halfway to your dorm that you realized you didn’t have your keys and your roommate was out for the night.

“Ughh.” You whine and Minho eyes you like you’re crazy.

Maybe you are.

Crazy for leaving your stuff at home.

Crazy for catching feelings for your brother's best friend.

Crazy for trying to drown him out of your thoughts with shitty tequila and obnoxious music.

Crazy for actually thinking that you could distract yourself, let alone forget about him.

“Hello? Earth to her majesty.” he pokes your shoulder.

“Fuck off,” Please don’t stop talking to me.

“Ah, see I like bothering you too much for all that,” he glances from the road to your curled up form. Your ‘defensive pose’ as he likes to call it. It’s not the first time he’s seen you absolutely shitfaced.

“Wanna tell me why you’re throwing a fit over there?”

“No key,” you mutter and press your head against the cool glass of the window, reveling in the way it soothes your massive migraine.

“No k- what are you talking about? You went to a frat party with no keys? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Minho lets out a cross between a scoff and a laugh, making you curl into yourself tighter. He sighs softly and prays that Jisung won’t kill him for taking you home with him.

“Why are you smiling like this is funny? None of this is the slightest bit funny. You could’ve been hurt and then I would-” he snaps his mouth shut and grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white.

There’s a small amount of pressure on your stomach when you wake up and the sound of light purring fills the room. You peek your eyes open cautiously until you spot the orange and white cat resting on your lower abdomen.

“Soonie,” you hum with a smile.

Wait. Soonie?

You sit up fast making Soonie dart off the bed in surprise.

You’re in Minho’s bed. And not for the reason you would’ve preferred.

You’re engulfed in his scent, tangled in his sheets, hair spread across his pillows. You wonder how many girls he’s had here before and mentally gag at the thought.

“Morning,” Minho nods as he sets a tray with a bottle of painkillers and some water on it next to you.

Memories of the night before flash throughout your head and your cheeks flush red with embarrassment while your hands run down your face.

You made a fool of yourself in front of Lee Minho. This is a new low for you, you think.

But then again this isn’t his first time tending to you and your drunken stupor.

Maybe not in his own home, and maybe without you knowing but he’s done it enough to be well versed with handling you.

You down the water along with one of the capsules and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, trying as hard as possible to avoid Minho’s gaze.

“Better?” He whispers.

No.

“Mhm, fine.”

“Do you wanna talk about it now or-”

You climb out of his bed groggily, “I don’t want to talk about it at all, actually.” Minho does a double take and you realize that your dress slid up your leg and exposed almost the entirety of your legs, dangerously close to your core.

He looks away long enough for you to fix yourself before clearing his throat. “That sucks because we’re going to.” His annoyance is obvious, the tips of his ears pink from being flustered. As much as you really really want to push his buttons, your head is pounding and you feel simply, well - gross.

“I uh- I went and bought you some stuff so you could go shower,” he says, almost as if he read your mind. He rubs the back of his neck nervously with a grimace.

You look at him with a confused expression, “Huh? I’m sorry, I must not have heard you correctly.” Minho rolls his eyes at you. “Don’t argue with me. Just go,” he points to the adjacent door which connects his room to the singular bathroom in his one bedroom dorm.

He pauses and tries to gather this words, “See, the thing is I didn’t really get a chance to get you clothes…” Lie. “So you could just, I don’t know, wear some of mine?” You stop mid walk and turn on your heel to see Minho with a hoodie and sweats in his grasp.“Please cooperate with me for once.” You sigh and hold out your hands for him to place his clothes in them.

“This is the stupidest idea i think I’ve ever heard come out of your pea-sized brain,” you grumble and stalk into the bathroom unbeknownst to the massive smirk adorning Minho’s face.

You were right when you thought you’d look absurd. Of course you were, anyone could look at you and tell you wouldn’t fit in his clothes. You step out of the bathroom, freshly showered and teeth brushed.

You’re practically swimming in his shirt and you had to tie the drawstring on the sweatpants so tight that it was a literal struggle.

“You were in there for an hour.” He deadpans.

“How’d you know what shampoo I liked,” you ignore him and ask as he eyes you. His gaze drags up your body as you run your fingers through your damp hair.

“I don’t know. Lucky guess?” Minho shrugs it off and folds his arms over his chest.

“Okay then,” you roll your eyes and copy his stance. You two stay silent for a solid ten seconds until he finally speaks,

“This is ridiculous.” He says as he glares at you.

“If anyone’s ridiculous it’s you.”

“Me? You’re the one being an ungrateful brat,” he steps closer to you until you’re face to face, “I’m the one who came to your rescue. I could’ve told Jisung no, could’ve said I had better things to do than save you from yourself.”

You shake your head, “Then why didn’t you? I’m obviously just a bother to you, aren’t I? A burden that you can’t wait to be freed of.”

Minho furrows his brows, “Bullshit. That’s complete and utter bullshit and you know it.”

You inch closer to him so your chests are pressed against one another. “Do I, Minho? Because it seems like you only enjoy being a dick to me,” your hands curl into fists at your sides. Never in the four years you’ve know him would you have ever expected to have an actual argument with him. Usually it’s all meaningless jabs at each other, but right now you can tell that it’s more than that.

Minho’s eyes search yours as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Don’t fucking do that,” his voice comes out in a harsh whisper.

“Do what?”

“Act like the fucking victim of the situation you put yourself in,” His expression has grown agitated which only pisses you off to no end. You decide you’ve had enough and turn away from him to collect your stuff. “What are you doing?”

“I am going to text my roommate and she’s going to take me home.” You don’t bother looking at him as you speak, grabbing your phone off of the nightstand and typing out a ‘send help’ message to your roommate. Before you could send it though Minho has yanked your phone out of your hands. “Seriously?” You huff. He holds it above his head as you poorly attempt to reach for it.

“No. Until you can have an adult conversation with me you aren’t leaving.”

“What, are you gonna hold me hostage? Tie me up?” You realize that was the wrong thing to say when a smug smirk tugs at Minho’s lips.

“You’d like that too much. Wouldn’t you, princess?” Your breath catches in your throat as you fall dead silent. You’re still leaning against him, using him as leverage to get your phone. “Cat got your tongue? Never thought I’d see the day where you’d fail to find a snarky response. Always need to have the last word, don’t you.”

Your brain is so fuzzy, a mix of emotions jumbling your thoughts around. You slowly stand flat and remove your hands from his arms with palms on fire from the contact with his bare skin.

“You’re a dick.” You say while you take a few steps away from him.

“So you’ve said.” Minho stares at you with ice in his gaze. He slides your phone in the pocket of his hoodie and folds his arms over his chest. “You can go when you tell me why you’re doing it.”

“Doing what?” You say though you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“You are quite literally self destructing. Why?” He narrows his eyes at you, waiting for you to explain yourself. Unfortunately for him, it’s going to take more effort than that to get you to spill.

“That’s none of your business. Now give me back my phone, I want to go home.”

“No. I’m not just going to sit back and watch my best friend’s sister practically kill herself over something that is probably meaningless.” You keep backing up as he walks towards you until you collide with the wall behind you.

How cliche.

“Just tell me so we can move on with our lives. But just so you know, I will not hesitate to keep you here as long as I have to until you help me understand why you’re acting so stupid when we both know that you’re far from it.”

Minho leans in closer, invading your space and allowing himself to be as close to you as he’ll ever be able to. He cares about you more than he cares about himself. His best friend’s little sister. At this point he’s a walking romance book trope.

“It’s nothing I’m fi-” Before you can utter another word Minho has his index finger pressed against your lips and an eyebrow raised.

“I’m going to give you another chance to rethink your words. Choose carefully.” You roll your eyes, prompting him to drop his hand.

“I’m trying to get over something.” You look down at your hands as you refuse to make eye contact.

“Something or someone?” You sink back against the wall.

You weigh your options: you could either lie to him, or you could confess and hope that you don’t die of embarrassment when he rejects you.

“Someone.” When you finally look up at him you’re surprised to see his boba eyes clouded with - jealousy? No, you’ve got to be imagining it. There’s no way.

“Who?” Are you imagining it?

“Just..someone.” Minho shakes his head as if saying ‘not good enough.’ But you’re not backing down that easily, this is just too good. So you do the next best thing: you mess with him.

“It’s someone from school..?” you wince, the statement coming out as more of a question.

Minho’s eyes narrow and he finally steps out of your way. He stares at you dumbfounded before pulling your phone out of his pocket and holding it out to you. As you reach for it your fingers graze his and you’re reminded of the situation you’ve put yourself in.

“Like I said, meaningless.” Minho’s voice pulls you out of the endless rabbit hole that is your stupid, insecure brain.

All of this for nothing, he thinks. This whole time he was dumb enough to believe that you had feelings for him but instead you were treating it like a joke.

“Whatever, come on.”

Two weeks have passed since you woke up at Minho’s place. Two weeks have passed since you came home trying to determine if you were being delusional or if he actually got jealous of the idea that you were thinking about someone else.

But hey, even if he didn’t actually feel that way you figure it’d be fun to play with him.

Why not? It’s all harmless anyway. What could possibly go wrong?

Luckily for you he’s supposed to be at Jisung’s place, where you happen to have just made a surprise appearance at. Your top tier excuse? There’s family drama that you want to gossip about with him.

Now you’ve finally comprised a seemingly fool proof plan to get a reaction out of Minho. You threw on his hoodie and a pair of shorts before leaving the house.

To your delight when the door opens to reveal Minho sitting on the couch he looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head. He can’t believe you even kept it, let alone willingly wore it. He wonders if it still smells like him or if you washed it, ridding it of any traces of himself.

“Hi, Sungie,” you pull your brother into a hug and make eye contact with Minho over Jisung’s shoulder.

“Why are you- I mean don’t get me wrong, I love it when you visit but like…you never do.” Jisung pulls back and gives you a skeptical look, preparing himself for whatever you’re about to ask him for.

“You never invite me,” you pout and slip past him into the living room. “Did you hear about auntie?” You say, turning to Minho before continuing, “You remember her, right? The one with all the cats, tried to get you to take them all? Yeah, you remember.” You smile before sitting next to him on the couch. Meanwhile Jisung - completely ignoring your babbling - has moved into the kitchen to make you a cup of tea, just like any other time you’ve shown up at his place unannounced.

Once you can tell that he’s out of earshot you look at the boy next to you who is painfully obvious in trying not to look at the exposed skin right underneath where his oversized hoodie, that could be classified as a dress on you, stops.

You look down at your body with an amused pout, “What’s the matter?”

Just as Minho was about to open his mouth your brother comes in with your tea, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you.

You thank him before crossing your legs and sinking backwards into the couch. You play with the end of your sleeve which goes an inch or two past the tips of your fingers as you wait for someone to speak.

Just as you thought you’d be playing the quiet game for the next three hours Minho answers your silent prayers.

“So, I decided to take a BDSM test,” he says just as you took a sip of tea, you almost choke on it but manage to cover it with a cough.

Jisung’s complaining is drowned out by the words that have been engraved in your brain for the past two weeks,

“What. You gonna hold me hostage? Tie me up?”

“You’d like that too much. Wouldn’t you, princess?”

Touché, you think. This little game has gotten ten times more interesting.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

tags: @skzstarnet @godslino @seungseung-minmin @myseungsunglove @azuna-sz @solisyeah

32 notes · View notes

ja3yun · 2 days

Note

"Hi, baby. You miss me?" he asks, his voice low and seductive as he snakes towards you with deliberate steps.

that's fucking it. im SO weak for heeseung in this series be it the prince of hell or an angel, lee heeseung you'll always be a menace and i love you for it/

“Do you remember? You were grinding yourself on my foot like a pathetic little bitch.”

STOP?!?!?!

"My offer is still on the table, baby," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and determination. "Come find me."

HEESEUNG GET LOST😭😭😭

‘Fuck, Jaeyun, you look so pretty sucked into my pussy like that’.

oh? oh.

"Sorry, force of habit," he confesses, his tone filled with remorse. Yet, it's a habit he shouldn't have slipped back into so effortlessly, yet it felt like breathing; as if touching you was his birthright.

sunghoon :(( why is he so soft here i love him

Yet, he is still posing the offer to get rid of her for you to stay. No person in love would give their partner up so easily.

EXACTLY???? so many questions

“I’m…here,” he breathes out, dejection laced within his tone.

😭😭😭😭

OKAY the whole confession scene???? why must you make me suffer this way aj what do you want from me "I think you brought my humanity back," stoppppppppppppppp im crying “But you’ll never be mine. Jaeyun is your soulmate, how the fuck am I supposed to compete with that?” oh my goshshshs the heaviness in this sentence is hitting me so bad

"We could."

YAWSSSSSSSS HERE IT GOESSKJDFKS

“That I should kiss you.”

THIS IS WHERE I L O S E IT I LOVE SCENES LIKE THIS LIKE THE INTIMACY???? THE HONESTY???? THE DESIRE????

“Let’s make her feel everything she deserves. Don't be selfish, understand?”

PARK SUNGHOON IM ON MY FUCKING KNEES.

“I want you to ride his face, baby girl, you can do that for me, can’t you?”

fuck offfff no WAYYY ohhh this is going to be sooo hot

Their synchronised actions take you by surprise as both boys wear smug smiles, their eyes alight with mischief as they slide down the bed, positioning themselves between your thighs with confident ease.

IM LOSING IT HELPPP

As their lips meet in a tender kiss, the room seems to hold its breath, the air thick with unspoken emotions.

that's it i love this. so damn much.

Jaeyun looks up with his big eyes and smiles, then kisses a heart pattern on your chest, a ritual he has performed countless times since becoming yours. It’s his unique way of saying good morning and expressing his affection.

HE'S.SO.CUTE.

“My pretty girl. Have you come to take me up on the offer finally?”

get this man off this series please i cannot do this im too weak for this yn take the offer up please

“My soul. Take it.”

YN YOU STUPID BIT- im sorry she's so fucking brave what the fuck??? oh damn to be able to love like that

Jaeyun, not wanting to be left out, pouted and tossed his controller aside. He scrambled over, a wide smile on his face, and wrapped his arms around both of you. "My two favourite people!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with joy as he squeezed you both tightly.

good lord may the world never hurt this man

AJ😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

tdh is something that i will never forget for the rest of my life. im not even lying, thought this fanfiction era of us might be shortlived? the way you write, the emotions these characters have felt? i've felt them too you're such an amazing writer i actually have no words. this is incredible im so glad i got to read this.

tdh is so so close to my heart😭😭😭

also please never write tdh heeseung again or i will shoot myself im kidding im not strong enough for him

also the smut 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 starstruck as we speak, it was crazy good aj i love you so much okay bye

KAYZ I HAD A FEELING YOU WOULD LOVE IT SKSKDJDJDJ thank you so much for supporting me bc i seriously appreciate it more than i can ever express!

i'm super duper glad you loved the epilogue! i'll cherish this series so much and even as you've broken it down like this i realise how much i love and will miss them 😭

#aj answers #loml fr!!

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seenoversundown · 5 hours

Text

For Death Or Glory : Chapter One

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious theme, Bickering, Brotherly Taunting, Uncomfortable situations, Yearning (oh the yearning) Smoking, Alcohol (it's a bar- feels self explanatory but just for safety) Shitty dad jokes, and silly goofy boy time!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Jake has spent most of his 20's single or just random dates here and there. Unfortunately for him, his brothers and their partners are all on board for trying to find him the love of his life.

Author's Note: hehe hi :) I couldn't resist any longer. I hope you love Jake as much as I do.

Beggars Song - Matt Maeson "Oh yeah, I'm a beat down, washed up, son of a bitch, I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent, but I'ma Be damned if I let it keep me down."

The soft ‘click’ of the door latching behind me as I sneak out of Willa and Quinn’s apartment. It stopped snowing a few hours ago, so the plows have had time to take care of the roads. Hopefully, they could get out of there quickly enough to make it home. I can’t be shocked that we all got roped into a slumber party, especially with Josh involved. I honestly didn’t even mind it; sometimes, spending time with everyone is nice, not in the bar. My heart was whole, watching everyone laugh and smile together.

Their apartment complex wasn’t too far from the bar, but I don’t trust the roads enough to drive the speed limit.

‘Oh, what a night,

Late December back in ‘63..’

“Oooh, this one hits,” I say as the song fills the car. Turning the volume, I tap along on my steering wheel. Taking my time, I can appreciate how the snow softly coats the trees, which kind of makes up for the lack of leaves. The sun feels extra bright today, bouncing off all the snow piles and practically making the ground light up.

‘What a lady, what a night.’

“Oh, I, I got a funny feeling when she walked in the room,” I quietly sing along. I’ve always been a little partial to the “oldies” as they say on the radio, but I grew up listening to all of it. Maybe I’m just a sucker for nostalgia.

Pulling into my usual spot, ‘Oh, what a night,’ I sit for a second, contemplating whether I should run upstairs real quick or go into the bar. I probably should at least change. I’ve been in these clothes for almost twenty-four hours.

As fast as I can, without busting my ass on the ice, I walk to the stairwell. It’s unfortunately not the most insulated, so I hustle upstairs; the first chilly days always catch you off guard. The warmth hits me when I get into the apartment, my body letting out one last shiver, shaking the chill from outside off.

After finding a clean button-up and switching into new pants, I feel like a new human. I take a few minutes to brush my teeth, spray myself with some cologne, and then make a cup of coffee. The warm drink on a cold day routine never misses. I scroll through my emails while waiting for my coffee to finish brewing before heading to the bar.

The brisk air has me running down the stairs, fumbling with my keys to unlock the back door to the bar. I quickly turn the keys, hearing the heavy ‘clunk’ of the deadbolt flipping over. I scoot myself inside, pulling the door shut behind me while letting out another shiver.

My body freezes when I hear sounds coming from the actual bar. Jesus Christ, NO. My heart rate spikes as I creep down the hallway, not wanting to give myself away. As if whoever or whatever is in here didn’t hear the door, you dumbass. I still can’t see out into the bar, but the faint sounds are becoming much less muffled as I get closer.

“Fuck, what do we do?”

“Just get dressed, baby. Go, go, go.”

Is that Danny? I take a few more steps before finally seeing his tall figure standing shirtless near one of the end booths. He’s clearly buttoning his pants when I see a pair of smaller arms reach out behind him. Oh my god, Melody. I watch as he fumbles around, trying to flip his shirt from inside out, when he turns around and locks eyes with me. I can see any ounce of life drain from his face from a mile away.

We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Still, it is realistically ten seconds before I spit out the only question I can manage to think of, “What the fuck is going on?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Jake, really, I’m so sorry,” Dan is about to plead his case now.

Looking at him, I take a deep breath, knowing he genuinely feels terrible about this. “It’s fine,” I say, touching his arm.

“I will just take the day to really clean the bar, I suppose,” letting the smile sneak onto my face to ease the tension.

He lets a small laugh, “I’ll help since it’s my bad anyway.”

“Oh god,” I let slip. That was supposed to be an inside thought, but here we are.

“What?”

I silently point to the camera behind the bar. I won’t lie: Watching the emotions cycle through his face wasn’t a little funny. Melody looked wide-eyed as the realization hit her as well.

“Oh shit, oh my god,”

“You quite literally helped me install them,” I let out an uncomfortable laugh, “I don’t know how you forgot.”

He runs both hands over his face before finally asking, “Can we just.. delete that.. ALL of that..please?” His voice is coated in desperation as he keeps looking over at Melody.

“I’m certainly not going to watch it, Danny.” Relief washes over him as if he really thought I would watch that.

“Let’s agree to never bring this up.. again.. Ever?” I cock an eyebrow at him, taking a quick glance at Melody as well. She nods aggressively.

“What are we never bringing up?” Sam’s sing-songy tone radiates through the bar. God damn it.

Josh’s loud voice followed suit, “Oh, I love a good secret!” Of course, he came with Sam.

“That is between you guys and Danny,” I put my hands up, “I have cleaning I need to get done.” I look over to Dan, trying not to laugh. The look on his face is screaming that he knows he’s screwed now that Josh is here. Everybody is about to know his little secret.

“If you need to go for a little bit, do what you need to,” I lean in and whisper to Melody as I pass her. She gives me a thumbs-up and mouths, ‘Thank you,’ as I head down the hall.

“Goodmorning, brother,” Josh’s voice comes from behind me as I grab some cleaning supplies from our storage closet.

“I’m surprised you guys got here this early?”

When I left the apartment, I didn’t think anybody would be moving for quite a while. The few of us in the living room, all sleeping on the makeshift bed we crafted with extra blankets and pillows. Sam dipped at some point in the night to Willa’s bed, what a party pooper.

“I couldn’t fall back to sleep after you left, and I heard Sam moving around,” he tells me, “We figured you could use some help getting the bar situated after last night anyway.” Reaching out to take the broom and dustpan from me.

Surprised that they wanted to help, I quickly said, “Oh, well, thanks bub.” Not that they didn’t usually help out if I asked, but it was a bit more dependent on me asking, which I’m candidly not great at doing.

“So, what exactly needs to be cleaned?” Sam finally caves.

I smile at him, knowing what he’s trying to do, “Let’s just say we’re taking the opportunity to really make sure everything is clean.” Grabbing a rag and some disinfectant to start wiping everything down.

“Well,” he instigates further, “I just didn’t know if there was like a specific booth or something.” He unsuccessfully chokes back a laugh.

Josh quickly cut him off, “I’m sure he asked for specifics,”

I bite my tongue so as not to laugh at the argument that will start. If there’s anything I know, it’s that these two can’t help but start shit with each other.

“It was just a question, Josh.”

“You’re just picking at him for no reason. He said we’re cleaning everything, so just clean.”

“You know why we’re cleaning. That’s why you’re being defensive,” Sam says, his voice rising as he realizes.

Josh gasps dramatically, “You DO listen to your girlfriend. Oh my god, I’m so proud of you!”

“Oh, fuck off,”

Josh laughed loud: “It doesn’t take much to figure out what happened, Samuel. Just use that little brain of yours for a minute, and maybe you’ll piece it together.”

I sit in a booth to wipe the table down, just listening to them go back and forth. Josh isn’t wrong.. If he really did just stop to think about it, he would figure it out. Or, literally, just ask Danny. I never said he couldn’t ask him.

“I’m not that stupid, I know that-” Sam starts but immediately stops when he sees Danny walk back in.

“What are we yelling about?”

“The two of them are bickering about why we’re cleaning,” I say plainly, with my eyebrows raised and a tight-lipped smile.

His eyes widen, clearing his throat before saying, “Yeah, uh, people were a bit frantic last night trying to get out of here when the storm started, and we also didn’t want to get stuck too long, so we just.. didn’t have time to clean.” He couldn’t be worse at lying, but I think Sam will let it slide because of how uncomfortable he looks right now.

“Now, why couldn’t you just say that?” Sam turns, looking back over at Josh. Jesus Christ, here we go.

“Because that’s obviously not the reason, they clearly–”

“Good morning, Krusty Krew!” Quinn sings through the bar, thank god.

“Did we interrupt something?” Willa asks through a laugh.

“Yes, thank you,” I speak before the other two can.

It’s fun to watch as they both make their way over to their respective partners. Josh and Quinn always seem like they haven’t seen each other in years, even if it’s only been 20 minutes. The way they just curl into each other at any given moment. And then there’s Sam and Willa. Her laugh radiates through a room whenever Sam is around; they constantly pick on each other about something. He presses a kiss to the side of her head before she starts to walk away, but not before he swats at her ass, and she flips him off. She’s a saint for putting up with him.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I listened to everyone’s chatter until Josh and Sam started bickering again. I motion to Danny to say that I’m going outside for a minute before grabbing a cigarette from my office. Walking out the back door in the crisp air, I pull out my lighter and try to beat the wind. That first inhale is always the most rewarding. I told myself when I left the shipyard that I would cut back; the guys I worked with were heavy smokers, and it’s easy to fall into that trap. Now, I settle for one a day, and honestly, some days, I don’t bother; I find that when I’m stressed, I tend to go for it, but I’ve stuck to my guns and not gone back to smoking aggressively.

I walk across the street, finding my usual spot to watch the boats slowly sail out to the ocean. I like to come here when I need a moment. I’m unsure why I’m feeling more anxious today than usual, but my chest feels heavy. Why do I feel so alone?

It’s not that I can’t be alone. I obviously have made it this long without someone; I have just spent the last two years watching everyone close to me find love. I never really feel lonely because they are all part of the family at this point, but I do have days where I can’t help but be almost..jealous. My mind keeps wandering as I take another drag. Is there something I’m doing that just makes me not worthy of dating? I’ve never understood why, out of all the dates I’ve been on in the last handful of years, none of them have worked out. God, I sound so pathetic.

I enjoy the last moments of my smoke break, forcing myself to focus on the boat coming into the dock. I can’t seem bothered when I go inside, or they’ll notice.

Finally, making my way back inside, I see Josh and Quinn in one booth and Sam with Willa in another. They don’t seem to notice that I’ve snuck back in, so I just spend some time cleaning up and organizing behind the bar while there’s nobody to actually tend to.

I start mindlessly wiping down the wine glasses, trying to make them as clean as possible. Josh and Quinn are in my line of sight; it’s hard not to notice how in love they are. Always sitting on the same side of any table, whether it’s a booth or a typical table setting, they’re attached at the hip. They’re always touching. Whether it’s just sitting close enough, one of them can move their leg closer, or right now, where Quinn is just tracing their finger along his jawline and down the bridge of his nose. They lean in, pressing a kiss to his nose before he tugs them in quickly for a real kiss. This is dreadful. I really can’t remember the last time I kissed someone. Am I that touch starved that I’m jealous of my brother? The squeak from the glass reminds me where I am. I shake my head, putting it back in its place and grabbing a new glass.

I glance over to the other booth; Willa has her head propped up in her hand as she looks at my brother. Even though they instigate each other most often, it’s always with love. She has a soft smile plastered on her face as she nods to whatever he’s saying. Running his hand down her forearm every so often, it’s weird seeing Sam so.. domestic? Willa really is perfect for him, though. I knew the moment she put him in his place while on a date with SOMEONE ELSE. How she looks at him like he’s the greatest thing ever created is incredibly sweet. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can see the way her eyes light up before she calls him ‘babe.’ I put the last glass back in place, tossing the towel under the bar.

I think I have scrubbed every inch of this bar today, I think to myself, leaning into my hand. The music is lower since there’s nobody here, and everybody is currently preoccupied. I let my mind wander for a minute.

The feeling of being so excited to see someone that your heart flutters. Being able to just hold someone close. God, getting to kiss them endlessly— nothing is better than that. Feeling them smile at you, ugh. Being so wrapped up in each other, pulling her into your lap so you can just have her as close as possible. Someone to call sweet things and have them call me ‘babe.’ Fuck me. I need a wife. Can I just skip to the being in love part? I don’t want to waste my time on girls who will just leave after a couple of months. I just want to fall helplessly in love and spend every day making sure they feel the same.

“Jake?” Sam loudly says, waving his hand in front of me.

My body jumps involuntarily, “For fucks sake.”

“Good daydream, huh?” Josh teases. I fight the warm feeling creeping into my face, rolling my eyes subtly.

“What do you guys want?”

“Will you make us drinks, please?” Josh asks, trying to recover from his taunting.

“Quinn and Willa too?” I double-check as I’m grabbing glasses. They both nod in sync.

I kept letting out little sighs, which, to be fair, I didn’t think were that obvious. Turning and setting one of the drinks in front of them, my eyebrows pulled together.

“Why do you look so angry?” Sam asks.

“I’m not?” I quip back. Unfortunately, it didn’t come out as convincing as I would have liked.

“I really think you just need to get laid or something, Jake,” Josh laughs out, “you need someone to take the edge off!” he laughs, nudging Sam with his elbow. You’re telling me.

“When do I have the time, Josh? Come on,” I can’t help the attitude that comes out, but given the day I’ve had so far— getting harassed for not getting laid is not helping.

“Honestly, you just seem tense lately,” Sam pipes up, “maybe if you actually flirted with one of the pretty girls who comes in, you could get off once in a while.” Josh barks out a laugh towards Sam, but I see Dan pointing in our direction as I listen to my personal peanut gallery giggle.

Rolling my eyes at them as they keep egging each other on, “Trust me, I’d love for my wife to walk through those doors, but I don’t see that happening.”

I turn to finish making drinks for the boys, trying to ignore them, squawking about my lack of sex life. As I set out a few glasses on the counter, I heard a lower, raspy female voice ring behind me, “Could I speak with Mr. Kiszka?”

I turn around to a petite redhead dressed very professionally. Her button-up was a pale yellow, tucked into some grayish-blue slacks. Her hair curled perfectly, and her dark red lips stood out against her pale complexion.

“Which one?” we all answer in unison.

She flips open her folder, looking at whatever papers are in there, and I can’t seem to look away from her. She’s … so hot?

“Um, Jacob Kiszka, I’m sorry.”

She looks up at me, making direct eye contact. Green. Her eyes are green.

I manage to muster up the ability to ask, “What do you need from me, dear?” Dear? Am I ninety? The sounds of my brother’s giggling prevented any level of silence between us.

“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you randomly, Mr. Kiszka,” she says confidently; her voice is so pretty.“Mr. Kiszka is our father. Please call me Jake,” I say, trying to lighten the mood as I extend my arm out to shake her hand across the bar. It feels like a small jolt to my heart as her hand firmly grabs mine, and she tells me, “Charlotte Rhodes.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | Prologue | FDOG Playlist

If you ask nicely, I may be so inclined to drop Chapter 2 sooner than next Thursday .. is all i'm going to say. 🤭

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petrichormore · 1 year

Text

Cellbit: I’m going to defy life and death to make my partner happy again!

Bad, a Grim Reaper: Sir. Um. Sir? They’ll fire me? Sir? I spent 5 centuries getting this job I’m not losing it to a lovestruck mortal.

#him just sighing and shaking his head as cellbit screamed at him #it feels like he’s seen it all before #but he’s still too soft hearted to step in and stop it #when death tries to tell you something you listen cellbit #let’s hope you find what you’re looking for #qsmp #qsmp liveblog #q!bbh #q!badboyhalo #q!cellbit

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screampied · 5 months

Text

❛ TOO SWEET! ❜

geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.

total wc. 3.0k

warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise

an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…

he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”

“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.

choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.

choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.

he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..

it really was that bad…

“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”

“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.

it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”

your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.

one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.

he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.

“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”

“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”

his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.

“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”

geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”

“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.

and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.

geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.

“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.

you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.

“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”

he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.

his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.

“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.

the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.

“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.

it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.

his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.

“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.

geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“sweetheart..”

is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”

“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”

with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.

“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”

“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.

and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”

you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.

he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.

nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”

you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.

his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”

“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”

you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.

one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.

“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.

“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care.

the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.

eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.

yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji.

“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.

he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.

“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact.

his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”

and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.

his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.

“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.

his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm.

toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.

slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes.

he came early.

toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.

“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan.

“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.

“say what?”

he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”

“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face

“…you heard me, whore.”

GOJO ☆ SATORU

“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.

the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”

“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.

his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.

“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”

“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”

he was so desperate.

you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.

gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.

his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”

“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.

“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.

gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.

“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.

you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.

he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.

“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.

that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.

“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”

“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.

you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”

“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.

his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”

25K notes · View notes

sttoru · 4 months

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji witnesses his son’s first steps and it nearly makes the grown man cry.

wc. 1k

tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama.’ life if gege just gave us what we wanted. ending is a bit rushed if you couldn't tell.

“gumi, look here,” you coo at your child who’s sitting in his playpen. you’re laying against some stuffed animals, too tired to move after doing all kinds of chores. the baby looks up at you with curious eyes and you take your chance to make a silly face.

megumi giggles and responds by throwing a small toy your way. it accidentally hits your head, though luckily it isn’t anything too heavy.

toji, who laid lazily on the opposite side of the playpen, watches the scene unfold. he grins once he sees you rub the spot on your forehead, “oi, megumi, careful with y’r mama.”

you chuckle, dropping your dramatic act. you ruffle megumi’s hair a bit before standing up. a yawn escapes your lips and you stretch your arms above your head—clearly in need of a break.

“i’m gonna take a quick nap, honey,” your eyes meet toji’s. your husband nods and sits up with a groan. he’s also sleepy, but he knows that you did most of the work today. he’ll gladly watch over megumi while you rest and regain your energy.

megumi starts to fuss the moment you step out of the playpen. his tiny hands reach out to you—the little boy clearly too attached to his mother. toji shakes his head and effortlessly picks his son up and puts him on his lap, “naw, y’re stuck with me buddy. mama’s gotta rest.”

megumi squirms around and whimpers. he’s clearly not interested in his dad at the moment. toji sighs and tries his best to keep the baby still, but to no avail.

“mama! mama!” the baby’s cries for you breaks your heart. you stop a a couple steps away and turn around with a pout. you notice how megumi is kicking his legs, thrashing around in toji’s arms in attempt to free himself.

you sigh and crouch down, “gumi, mama’s sleepy. . papa’s gonna play with you, okay?”

megumi, of course, does not understand what you mean. he thinks you’re leaving him alone and it causes him to wail loudly. you’re about to console your son, but backtrack when you notice how megumi’s starting to stand up on his own.

his chubby legs are barely holding his body weight up. the balance is hard to find for the baby, yet he still does his utmost best. he nearly trips from just standing.

even toji looks on with wide eyes and a hint of a prideful grin on his lips. he’s silently encouraging his son in his head.

“ma..ma,” megumi babbles. he almost topples over, but toji’s quick reflexes come in handy. a big hand keeps the baby standing straight. the dark-haired man carefully lets go again, however keeps his hand near his son’s body. just in case.

neither toji nor you could believe what was happening. you both watch in awe as megumi’s left foot moves forward—the right one copying that same movement.

your precious boy, taking his first steps right in front of you both to witness. it’s a heartwarming sight. you hold your breath and toji’s lips part slightly. your husband has yet to grasp why this scene in front of him makes him feel so. . . giddy on the inside.

“c’mon! come to mama!” you squeal excitedly and open your arms, encouraging megumi to your best ability. the tiny boy giggles and moves his limbs as fast as they could go. his chubby hands flail around as he quickly walks over to you.

toji stares at his family and that’s when it hits him; how much he loves this peaceful life. his son just achieved another great milestone that he had the honour of witnessing firsthand. it made him happy that he chose this path instead of the more ‘darker’ one.

it also nearly causes your husband to shed some tears from pure joy. but, toji didn’t want to seem too ‘soft’. even if he secretly is for his wife and child.

toji coughs subtly. totally not to get rid of the irritating lump in his throat. a ghost of a smile appears on his face while he got up, immediately moving towards megumi and you.

“good job, kiddo,” toji says as he puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he stares down at megumi in your arms—the little boy getting drowned in kisses and compliments.

your ears twitch. there’s no denying it; the faint crack in toji’s voice. you give your kid a break from your overwhelming affection and tilt your head back. your eyes meet your husband’s.

you grin when you see how he quickly avoids your gaze. something he never does unless he’s. . . “gonna cry?”

toji rolls his eyes at your question. he ignores your teasing by trying to change the subject. he focuses on megumi who’s still going absolutely wild in your embrace—cutely demanding more praise and kisses.

“daddy can also give ya some kisses, y’know,” toji pokes megumi’s cheek, fascinated by the plush fat. the baby stops babbling the moment his dad talks to him. he looks up at toji and then back at the finger still prodding at his cheek.

megumi opens his mouth and doesn’t waste a single second. he goes for a playful bite, though his little baby teeth do no real damage, “yumm.”

you giggle at the way megumi frowns at toji, his teeth holding tightly onto toji’s fingertip. it’s time for your husband to take over the dramatics now.

“hey, that ain’t so nice now,” toji hisses and leans forward until his face is right in front of megumi—a similar frown on both the dad and son’s faces. they really do look alike now that you see them both from up close again.

megumi only bites down more on the finger in his mouth and toji reacts to that by feigning his anger. it’s amusing to see how neither of them gives up first.

but, it’s also rather cute to see how the father-son dynamic plays out in cozy family moments like these.

your eyes focus back on toji’s face and you can’t help but smile to yourself. he’s a good husband and father; always there for the both of you. his own way of showing support for megumi’s first steps is rather heartwarming. plus, the playful banter between the two never fails to make any moment all the more precious.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #toji fluff

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duuhrayliegh · 6 months

Text

consequences

a/n: I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT HERE YOU GO

also i'm more than happy to continue this if yall want more, just LET ME KNOW

other works

“You want to what?"

"To open our relationship."

You stare at him in disbelief, clutching the soft blanket in your hands. There's a sharp ringing sounding through your eardrums and everything around you slows. He keeps talking, his voice breaking through the barrier of fog that encompasses your senses.

"I want us to remain honest with each other, but this is the only way to keep our relationship healthy."

He steps away from the kitchen counter, wearing the sports jacket you bought him for your sister's wedding.

"I want the both of us to disclose when we start dating someone else. That's the main boundary, we can hammer out all the ground rules later. Right now, I'm going on a date, so uh," he pauses as he checks his reflection in the mirror beside the door one last time, "don't wait up."

You try to focus on his words, but no matter your efforts you weren't able to process anything. His keys jangle in his grip and you faintly recognize the sound of the door slamming closed and his footsteps echoing down the empty corridor of your apartment.

"I still can't believe he said that to you."

The singular ice ball hits against the sides of your glass with each tilt of your wrist. You take a long drag of the dark liquor before laughing sardonically.

"It's been six months of him parading his dates around." Another sip, your work skirt digs into your thighs painfully. You distract yourself by reaching for a peanut from the nearly empty bowl. "And what's worse is that he still expects me to be the doting wife that he comes home to every night!"

The bartender refills your glass while you sneak another peanut. You card your fingers through your hair as you continue to rant. A dull throb radiates in between your brows so your eyes slide closed as you take deep breaths.

"Well, I can't imagine you're doing so bad yourself."

You hum questioningly at the man, focusing your gaze on the dark-haired bartender, his stubble dusting his sharp jaw as the muscles work beneath the skin. His eyes haven't left you since you sat down in front of him.

"I see you in here." You begin to pick at the skin around your nails and he nudges a bowl of peanuts in your direction. "Men come up to you all the time. You've been on dates too, right?"

You reach for a peanut and crack open the grainy shell, biting the inside of your cheek. Your bartender laughs incredulously and then presses his hands into his side of the counter to lean over toward you. The cloth he tosses over his shoulder must be damp because the fabric of his white button-up is darkened there.

"Focus on me, Peanut."

Your eyes snap to his, unable to keep the overflow of expression from brimming beneath the surface. Your heart cracks further as he visibly softens, crumpling against the counter to cover your hand with his. A tense silence stretches between the two of you, charging the air with unwelcome emotions.

Your bartender’s spare hand cups your jaw and swipes away the glistening tears fleeing down your cheeks. Sniffling loudly while straightening in your seat, you pull away from his touch—effectively stopping yourself from melting into him.

You’ve worked so hard to make this shitty dive bar your safe place, you’ll be damned if you ruin it with a fling.

“I don’t even know why I’m wasting tears on this whole thing.” You take three deep breaths—whiskey and apples invade your senses. The man in front of you tilts his head to the side while drying a few crystal glasses.

“You’re avoiding my question, Peanut.” He turns briefly and you try to figure a way out as the cups clink softly. “You have been dating too, right?”

Your teeth trap your bottom lip, peeling off the thin layers of skin. You purposely avoid his eyes, doing less than nothing to hide your answer.

“Jesus, Peanut. What’s stopping you?”

You huff, focusing your attention on the patrons around you. There’s noticeably less than there were when you first arrived. The bar guests go about their business, underlying emotions kept close to their chest and out of sight to everyone else. You wish you could be that way, instead of sewing your heart to your sleeve for anyone to rip pieces from.

“I--" You hesitate, twirling your glass, watching as the ice fights to keep up with the sudden movements you force on its surroundings.

"Some small part of me still loves him. No matter how much he hurts me with this whole open relationship bullshit. I'm still thinking that one day he'll wake up and remember that I've been his loving wife and partner for the past six years. This can't be my new reality. It just can't. He's meant to be my partner for life, not my partner who has really good friends. Not my partner with a girlfriend or some fuck buddy across town."

This is the can of worms that you'd hoped to keep locked away from the Commando's dive bar. What you've held close to your chest every night you slink past the blonde bouncer, Steve. The information you never let slip to the six-foot-five bartender with the metal arm. And now, you can't seem to stop the words from leaving your mouth.

"He's supposed to be my husband. Why isn't he my husband? Is it me? He said that we would talk about what the reason was, but I can't get him to sit down with me. I can't even get him to reply to a text, much less answer questions about our relationship."

You spit the last word before downing the rest of your drink in one go. Bucky stands patiently as you let loose every emotion that you've bottled up for the past six years. Further in the bar, someone shouts for the last call.

"Why don't I date? Because I love him. Because outside of him, I don't know who I am. I don't date because I've been with the same man for almost a decade and I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can't see past where I'm at right now. There is no future for me outside of the hell that I find myself in now. I can't date because I want to be there for when my husband remembers that I exist. I want to be there for him like he wasn't for me because I know the novelty of his flings will wear off soon enough. And maybe that makes me worse than him, but I don't know if I have the energy to care anymore."

There's now a heavy silence covering you and your whole body slumps because of it. Despite feeling the biggest breath of relief of getting those emotions out in the open, you now have to deal with what they mean. You were always taught that saying your emotions out loud would only lead to more issues, but here you fucking are. Sometimes these things are unavoidable.

"I call bullshit."

Your jaw drops as your bartender rocks away from the counter. You flounder as he starts performing closing duties. You stare at Bucky's back, slightly distracted by the muscles working underneath the tight material.

"Did you just bullshit my feelings?"

Bucky turns halfway, eyebrows raised, "Yep."

Your bartender plucks the glass in front of you and drops it in the sink on his way to the cash register. If you were in a whole state, you'd smack back with a witty comment, but you're tired.

"You can't bullshit my feelings."

He holds a stack of twenties in one hand and he pins you with the same expression as before.

"Uh, yeah I can."

He continues to count the register and tosses a goodbye to the other bartender. A long lull stretches between you. Now it's just the two of you in the bar, and that must have been what he was waiting on because it's only now that he really talks.

"Peanut, how long have you been coming here?"

You furrow your brow at the question, not sure where he's taking his line of questioning.

"I don't know, four months?"

“Four months, twenty days."

Bucky's retort is quick and final. A fact. Something he's committed to memory. You're taken aback by the heavy tone he layers between the syllables.

"And for those four months and twenty days, I've stood behind this counter and watched you wallow. I've watched you turn down proposition after proposition. I've had Steve throw out dozens of men for how they speak about you. I've sat back and tried to be the listening ear that you need because you're clearly going through a really difficult time. I've never been in the position that you're in and I'm not going to pretend that I understand the half of it."

He slams the drawer closed and rounds the countertop. His boots thud against the floor violently, stopping beside the barstool next to you. Your bartender leans down and swings your stool to face his before taking a seat.

"I've stood behind that bar and was able to listen to quite a bit. But what I can't have is you thinking that you're the issue."

His hand slips into yours, his thumb tracing the knuckles of your fingers. Tears begin to brim at your waterline again, but you refuse to let them fall.

"Peanut, you're the most loyal person I've met in recent years. You love fiercely and you hurt even harder. Hell, you've been with this guy for almost ten years and he's been fucking you over for the past six months and you're sitting in this bar defending him to a relative stranger!"

"But he--"

"You're husband took the decision away from you and then framed it in a way that made you out to be the bad guy. He put you in a nearly impossible situation because he knew you were too loyal to him to do anything about it."

"He didn--"

"Yes, he did."

Having it laid out like that by the one person you wanted to be kept away from all of it was eye-opening. Your shoulders crumple and a new wave of tears threatens to escape.

"Now, this isn't the best time, but I feel like in a situation like yours there's never going to be a 'right' time."

Bucky sits up straighter and sticks his metal hand out to you.

"Hi. I'm Bucky Barnes. I'm a retired Army Sergeant and I now work in the Howling Commandos bar. I've been your bartender for the past four months and twenty days. Over that time, I've grown to care for you, more than a bartender should. Because of that fact, I want to take you out on a date."

You suck in a breath sharply, immediately going to deny him, only for Bucky to cut you off.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now, Peanut. Just think about it and whenever you're ready, I hope I'm your first call."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, gnawing on the idea. You have grown fond of Bucky. He's become a sort of safety net for you these past few months. Going home has proven to be more and more of a chore so you spend hours on end in the Howling Commandos.

What if you and Bucky go on a date and you hate it? What if you date and you have a huge falling out? What if you--

"I can see the wheels turning, Peanut." He taps your temple with a cold metal finger. "What are you thinking?"

"What if we end up not working out?"

"What if we do?"

The question hangs. The implication is clear. You could spend hours going through the what-if scenarios, both positive and negative. You'll never truly know until you take a leap of faith.

"What would your boss think of you dating one of your new regulars though?"

You're grasping at straws, but you're really trying to convince yourself that taking that leap with Bucky would be the worst thing in the world.

"Peanut, I'll sell the damn bar before someone other than you tells me that I can't date you."

Your eyes meet his and all you can see is the adoration and sincerity in them. His thumb is still working over your knuckles, but it's also expanded to tracing aimless circles into the back of your hand. The cool metal is the only way you've grounded yourself to reality.

A slow smile spreads across your features, the first of its kind tonight and you both know what it means.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky x reader #bartender!bucky barnes x reader #seb stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #seb stan character #seb stan x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bartender!bucky x you #bartender!bucky x peanut!reader

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