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lovebugism · 9 months

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Heat wave with Eddie and he's watching you on the other side of the couch and he wants you so bad but it's so hotttt

thanks for your request lovey!! — the one where you and eddie try to make the most of the heatwave (established relationship, implications of smut, 1.3k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Metal heads hate summer. It’s an unspoken fact. Wild hair, leather jackets, and denim jeans don’t fare well in the heat.

And while there were many bonuses to the warmer season — the music, the ice cream, and you in a bikini to name a few — it didn’t quell Eddie’s personal vendetta with summer. Or rather, summer’s personal vendetta with him.

The month of August was hardly more than an incessant heatwave. One hundred-degree heat, statewide. Without a cool breeze to fill the seasonal silence, there was nothing but a low sizzling sound — like burgers cooking on a grill. The two of you got into his van for a Slurpee run one simmering afternoon and suffered second-degree burns from the pleather cushions and metal seatbelts in the process.

It was miserable. Eddie was far too pale and he liked the color black far too much to find any enjoyment in the summer months. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the power goes out.

And the only thing worse than a power outage during a heatwave is being horny during a power outage during a heatwave.

“The neighbor said there’s outages all over town—” Your voice comes muffled from where you pad around in the kitchen. “—So, we’ll probably be out for a while.”

You return to the living room wearing an old, white-ribbed tank top and a pair of Eddie’s plaid boxers, rolled at the hem to fit you better. You carry two glasses of lemonade in your hands, fogged with the cubes of ice you’d dropped into them before they could melt in the freezer.

You’re too pretty for your own good. Eddie’s suffocated by the sweltering heat as much as he is by the overwhelming urge to touch you.

“Fuuuck,” he groans in response, sprawled out on the couch across the room. He’s barely moved from that spot all day. He only got up once to tie his hair back and then anxiously pace back and forth for several minutes. A few ornery curls stick to his forehead, damp with sweat. “Should we just, like, get a hotel or something?”

“With what money?” you scoff in place of a laugh.

His scrunched brows go lax. “Oh, yeah…”

“We’ll be okay. It’ll only be out for a couple more hours— at least.”

“Hours?” Eddie whines, all pinched-browed, as you hand him his lemonade.

You scrunch your nose down at the boy with a sympathetic gaze. “Think we can survive that long?”

“I’m withering away as we speak,” he deadpans.

“You’re so dramatic…” you giggle. The unkind words come out coated in a layer of sweet honey. You love him too much for anything else.

You pluck your book from the coffee table and plop down on the other side of the couch. You curl your knees to your chest, not having much room left over from Eddie’s longer legs.

He’d tried to do the same an hour or more ago. He’d been too bored to read then. All the words melted together because his brain was swimming with heat. He doesn’t know how you’re doing it, honestly. All he knows is he can’t stop looking at you.

You’re a pretty little thing sitting across from him. So much of your skin is on display — arms, collarbones, ankles, and thighs. He wants to kiss every inch of you. He could if it wasn’t so damn hot. Now, all he can do is admire you from a distance and pray the power comes back soon so he can love you all over.

Eddie shifts on the couch for a few moments. He jostles the cushions beneath you as he twists on them, maneuvering so his legs are propped up on the coffee table and he’s slouching against the back of the sofa.

His underwear rides up his pale thigh. The white undershirt he refuses to take off is damp at the collar with sweat.

You pay little attention to his fidgeting. He’s often restless, but especially when he’s got nothing to do. You feel his sticky fingers curl around your stickier calf a second later. His touch is soft and slow, sweet like syrup, as he smooths his hand up and down the back of your leg.

You shoot the boy a look from over the top of your book. “You okay, Eds?”

“Other than melting?” he retorts with his head tilted to his shoulder. He shoots you a wide, fatigued grin through his reddened cheeks. “I’m peachy, sweetheart.”

“It’s a little too hot to be touching each other right now, babe,” you advise with your gaze turned back to the book in your lap. He keeps on caressing you, though, and you keep on letting him.

“I know…” he murmurs with a faint pout scrunching his features. His palm squeezes the top of your ankle before rising again. “I just miss you…”

“I’m right here,” you counter with a soft giggle.

“You know what I mean…”

“Yeah,” you concede with a sigh. “I know what you mean.”

If you had it your way, Eddie Munson would be touching you all the time. He usually is, anyway — but every second he’s not, it feels like you’re grieving. You’re made restless because of how underwhelmed you are, all grumpy because you’re so sticky with heat. You want so desperately to curl up in Eddie’s arms and hide there forever, but it’s already getting hard to breathe without the AC on. And the sweat’s making your clothes cling to your skin. The thought of physical affection right now makes you feel a bit sick.

He squeezes your calf again, this time to get your attention.

Your eyes peek at him from over your book. You find his flushed face curled into a tired, yet still mischievous smirk.

“And, you know, just for the record or whatever,” he lilts quietly with a twinkle in his chocolate syrup eyes. “If it wasn’t a billion degrees in here, I’d totally plow the shit outta you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes go wide at his words.

You might’ve laughed if you weren’t so immediately turned on.

You squeeze your knees together, clenching your thighs in hopes of soothing the ache that begins to pulsate between them. “Wow. That is… very forward of you, Eds.”

“I think the heat’s making me delirious,” he admits with his head tilted back against the couch. His pale, sticky neck is on display for you. You feel the sudden urge to sink your teeth into the milky white tendon there.

“Well, good thing about power outages in the summer — the cold water in the shower feels like heaven,” you tell him, feigning absentmindedness as you flip a page of your novel.

Eddie’s brows raise beneath his damp, curly bangs. He grins with a newfound light in his eyes. “Ooh,” he singsongs. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”

“I have… three more pages left in this chapter,” you tell the boy after flicking through the book. You shoot him a glance beneath your lashes — less obvious in your mischievous disposition but still sparkling with it anyway. You knock his thigh with your foot. “Go get undressed, loverboy.”

Your words bring him back to life.

He surges with an energy he lost sometime between the late spring and early summer as he leaps off the couch. He nearly trips over the coffee table on his journey to the bathroom. His hurried footsteps stomp, stomp, stomp down the hallway.

You hear the shower faucet hiss on from a distance. It’s music to your ears. You know you’ll be in there all day — or, at least, until the power comes back on. You’re left suddenly hoping it won’t come on for another good while yet.

Not until Eddie makes you forget your name against the shower wall.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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dejwrld · 8 months

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CHOSOIST KINKTOBER GAMING PLAYLIST — WEEK 1

( DEMON TIME) 🎮 INCUBUS!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X READER

— game synopsis: your boyfriend has been quite neglectful when it comes to your needs. not particularly being the best book boyfriend similar to the books you've read. but the one demon that visits you in your dreams seem to give you everything you need.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, mentions of reader having a boyfriend, doggystyle, unprotected sex, dirty talk (simon calls reader a slut), mentions of wet dreams, pillow humping, infidelity, kinda monsterfucking, mentions of simon having horns, gaslighting, i changed the ending like 5 times omg

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ kinktober masterlist / previous playthrough

You planned the whole night out for you and your boyfriend—a Halloween tradition that you two always did every year. Binge-watch some Halloween movies, give out candy to children who knocked on your shared apartment door, and have wonderful sex as Jason Vorhees kills his next victim playing in the background. But tonight, you sat alone on the cream-colored sofa with a half bowl of candy (because trick-and-treaters didn’t stop coming despite your boyfriend did). You felt embarrassed, the running thought that you should have let this relationship go sooner flashing through your mind similar to a light bulb flickering on when someone has a wonderful idea.

You were grasping onto a dead relationship and yearning for a happy ever after that wasn’t even there. You turned the television off and decided to clean up for the evening. Putting away the snacks you laid out and the pizza that grew cold as minutes went by. Pure disappointment sat at the pit of your stomach while cleaning up and eventually finding yourself in bed a little earlier than usual. You quickly did your evening routine of skincare and brushing your teeth before letting your feet guide you to your bed. The sound of late-night partygoers was heard outside and you can only tune out the squeals of excitement as you drift off into a deep slumber.

But as your body finally fell into the comfort of getting some rest, you soon felt your body jerk up suddenly at the sound of your wooden floors creaking. You wanted to be excited that your boyfriend actually came home and maybe you could do the activities you had planned. Expecting to see him tugging off his button-down shirt and complaining about his supervisor being up his ass during the eight-hour work shift—but instead, you were met with a large figure staring at you. His burly arms crossed over his chest causing the tight black t-shirt to clench upon his upper body. You blinked a couple of times assuming you were dreaming. You even reached to your wrist to pop at the beaded bracelet your boyfriend got you at this carnival you guys went to. The beads sting your wrist after you do that action and you still don’t jolt up in a completely cold sweat.

“You’re not dreaming, love.” His deep voice erupted your thoughts that were racing with questions. “Actually, kinda in the middle. Not dreaming, but actually dreaming. Hard to explain,” He points out before tilting his head at you.

Now you wanted to scream. A large man with a black mask that had a skull imprinted on it was standing just inches away from your bed and your body shook with fear as you inched away from him but was met with your cream-colored headboard.

“It’s no need to panic, you summoned me here. Well, kinda.” He explains. “Fuck.” He utters before clearing his throat and trying again.

“Every Halloween, some lonely single person's guilt and hurt is so strong that it summons me or one of my peers. A mere incubus that they can have for just one night,” The masked man explained, and when he saw you look at him as if he’s grown an extra pair of arms (which he could do if he put his mind to it, he was fuckin’ demon after all). “You’re actually the first person I’ve been assigned to in a while.”

“I’m so fucking confused right now.” You swing your feet over the ledge of your bed, sliding into your slippers, and walking over to the mysterious man. When you got closer, you immediately poked at his arm and were met with hardness.

He was real. He wasn’t like some ghost and maybe you had gone crazy.

“But I’m not single…” you pointed out as you circled around his large frame to get a good look at him. If he wasn’t a ghost, he still was here, and if anything went to shit to the point that you had to call the cops—at least you had a visual of his stature.

You couldn’t tell if his face scrunched up in a confused manner, but his eyes told the rather confused feeling he possessed. You stood in front of him crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m actually taken…” Your voice trails off and for some reason saying that left a bad taste in your mouth.

It didn’t feel like you were taken. Especially when you went to sleep alone tonight.

“Hm, that’s interesting. It doesn’t seem like that. So if you’re not taken…you’re hurt. Did the little boyfriend and yourself have an argument?” The stranger waltzed over to the small loveseat in your room and sat down. It was as if he was a therapist questioning you about life.

“No.” You quickly admit. “We didn’t…he just didn’t show up tonight when I planned something for us. He hasn’t answered his phone, nothing. So, I’m just confused about what I should do because this has happened before.”

“I see.” His voice trails off and he rubs at his clothed chin before standing up. “Let’s go have some fun, love.” The mysterious man whose eyes you were hypnotized with extended his large hand for you to take.

“What? I’m still in my pajamas.” You pointed it out. “I need to go change, maybe fix my hair.” You motion to the silk scarf that was tied upon your head.

“Eh, don’t worry about that. I’m a fuckin’ demon. I have it all figured out.” He says.

You met his gaze and you saw this twinkle in his light-colored eyes. It was a similar twinkle and glint that your boyfriend had when you two were in your cupcake phase during the relationship. “What’s your name? I can’t just go out with a stranger that claims he’s a demon.”

You heard him kiss his teeth, “You’ll figure it out soon.” And with that, he grabs your hand and in a blink of a moment, you’re both in a crowded bar.

You knew exactly what bar you were at because it was one that your boyfriend frequented a lot with his friends and co-workers. You had to pick him up countless times when his alcohol intake had hit its limit. But as you stood in the middle of the bar, you noticed that no one didn’t notice you. A person walked by you and you were expecting to feel their shoulder roughly bump into you—but instead, their body went through yours as if you merely were a ghost. No one in this bar knew you two were here, which sucked considering your attire.

Your hands roamed your body as you wore a blood-red leather corset and a black leather mini-skirt that hugged your lower half perfectly. On your head was a headband that was decorated with two sparkly red devil horns. Of course, he would ensure you were dressed up as a demon. Your eyes searched in the crowd for him and you saw him behind the bar looking at the massive choice of alcohol. You walked towards the bar and watched him closely, “Why are we here?” You asked.

“To have a good time.” The man’s fingers tapped at his masked face before grabbing a random bottle and some shot glasses. “So, drink this and let loose.”

You took the shot off the bar and drank it quickly just in time to hear a loud cheer from the back of the bar. Your head turns to follow the commotion of people dressed up for Halloween while playing what seems to be an intense game of pool. When you saw the familiar figure with a football jersey on, your heart sank immediately. There your boyfriend was playing pool with a huge grin on his face while his friends cheered him on. The shot you took, immediately helped your stomach form the most horrendous knots and you wanted to go home.

“No.” The demon behind the bar said before filling your shot glass up again.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” Your eyes stared at the liquor in your glass and you then watched him lift the mask just a bit so he could down his own shot. “You brought me here on purpose.” Your eyes narrow at him.

“I did. To see that you’re all sad for that.” His fingers motion to your boyfriend. “He has seen your text messages by the way and five missed calls.” He adds and you didn’t even want to question him he knew that you had blown up your boyfriend’s phone.

“It’s really no point to be here. I’ll just talk to him when I get home.” You adjusted the headband on your head. “So, can you please teleport me back home Mr. Demon?”

“No.” He adds before walking around the bar so that he is sitting on the barstool next to you. His large callous hands grab the end of the stool you were comfortably sitting in and bring it closer to him. “We’re going to make your lovely boyfriend so paranoid that he’ll be groveling at your feet.”

“And how the hell are we going to do that if he can’t see us?” Your eyes met with the mysterious demon and you felt hot under his gaze. Maybe it was because you couldn’t see his face and since it was Halloween, no one was going to question why he wore a mask.

“Who said he can’t see us?” His head tilts just a bit before he snaps his finger and suddenly when he snaps his finger and moves your stool just a bit—your boyfriend glances in your direction quickly. So quickly he did a double take at how close you were with the demon who popped up in your life this evening.

Your boyfriend’s eyes enlarged at the sight of you and what you were wearing and soon the demon snaps his fingers again. You watched as your boyfriend still glanced in your direction, but it was as if he simply was imagining things. He shook his head and went back to sipping his alcohol.

“He’s going to lose his mind by the end of the night.” The demon adds with confidence oozing from his tone.

“I guess, this will work. But, I must ask. Why’d the mask? Also, where are your horns? Don’t demons have horns?” You took it upon yourself to take the cocktail that the bartender just put on the bar since no one could see you two.

“I do have horns, just think the horns give everyone a good spook.” He points out. “Last time, a lady threw a glass at me. So, I settled with the mask and no horns.” He takes a sip from the beer bottle that the bartender sat in front of a talking customer next to him.

“Hm,” was the only thing you said. “Are you ugly? A lot of horror stories perceive demons as ugly.”

“Quite the opposite.” He backfires. “Can’t really haunt people's dreams to have sex with them and solve their problems if we’re ugly.” He jokes.

“Then can I see your face?” You asked, your fingers twirling the straw in your cocktail and you gave him a grin.

“After you stop being so uptight and help me…help you.” He finishes his beer and he stands up motioning for you to follow.

With a quickness, you’re downing your cocktail and following the man in the crowd. The music was so loud that you had to practically yell out anything you wanted him to hear. “What about your name? Do you have a name?”

“Simon, or Ghost. Whichever you prefer.” He walks over to the pool table, and leans against the pool table adjacent to the one your boyfriend and his friends were at.

You watched as some random woman dressed as a cheerleader placed her arms around your boyfriend's waist as he was trying to hit the pool ball. You felt jealousy, anger, and betrayal seeing this. He ditched your plans to be out with her. That douche.

“Don’t have such a down face.” Simon nudges your side before grabbing the pool table. “Like I said, we are going to make him lose his mind by the end of the night.” He grabs a hold of your waist after grabbing a pool stick. “Just go with the flow, love.” He whispered in your ear and you felt your skin decorated with goosebumps.

Simon helped guide your hand towards breaking the balls in the middle of the table. Despite the bar being fairly cool, you felt hot with how close he was to you. His crotch pressing against the fatness of your butt in the skin-tight mini skirt. His breath itching at the shell of your ear. Just as you are about to hit the ball, he snaps his fingers again making you two noticeable in the crowd of people. The sound of wolf whistles could be heard seeing your figure bent over—if Simon wasn’t here, strangers would have been to see what your momma gave you. There as Simon helps you break the group of balls perfectly, you squeal in excitement gaining the attention of your boyfriend’s friend and soon your boyfriend again. His face goes red at the sight of Simon’s hands all on you and you watch as he scrambles to remove the pretty woman off him. He made his way to the pool table, but Simon snapped his fingers again causing your boyfriend to be confused once again. Your eyes scan over his face while he shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath.

“And now he’s going to call you. But you’re going to ignore his call because that’s exactly what he’s been doing to you.” Simon leans against the pool table and the two of you watch as your boyfriend pulls out his phone to call you.

You were astonished at what you were viewing, he was panicking. The mere thought of you being with another man had him about to explode. You watch as your boyfriend runs his fingers through his hair, a thing he does when he’s overthinking his ass off. You knew for a fact that he was overthinking the fact that you were probably out having just as much fun as him.

“So, Simon. Do you have sex with all the women whose lives and dreams you hop into?”

“Not all of them. Some just want someone to talk to.” He shrugs. “You on the other hand just need someone to teach your nitwit of a boyfriend to appreciate what he has.” He adds.

“So, you wouldn’t have sex with me? Just put my boyfriend in check.” You playfully nudged his side and you were met with hardness.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” His eyes met yours and you were forced to swallow the large lump in your throat. “Because I may have known your boyfriend is an idiot, but I also know he hasn’t touched you in weeks…a month and a half to be exact.” He adds as he turns to face you. This time, he’s caging you from leaving since you were still resting on the pool table.

“I could have gone the sex route, but that wouldn’t solve your shitty boyfriend situation which would mean I would be stuck with you until you’re no longer miserable.” He says. “But, you and I know that you’re a good girl.” His hand adjusts the red devil horn headband on your head. “You wouldn’t cheat on him, even though..he’s probably going to cheat on you with her.” He motions to the brunette cheerleader who is still by your boyfriend's side even as he is attempting to call your phone.

“You don’t know me, Simon.” You pointed it out. “Only what you observe about my life.”

“Then do you want to prove me wrong, love?” His hand rests on your waist tugging you closer to him.

“I’m sure that’s what you’ll want.”

“It is, I’m not going to deny it. But, I’m not going to force it out of you. You’re a grown woman, use your words and make your own decision.” He drops his hands from your waist and walks away from you, disappearing in the crowd and towards the bathroom.

Like the touch-deprived woman you were, you followed before him. But just as you were walking to follow him in the bathroom, you bumped into your boyfriend. You expected your body to go right through his since Simon did snap his fingers, but you collided with your boyfriend’s shoulder gaining his attention. When he saw you, that look of shock appeared again and his lips parted to speak, but just as his hands reached out for you—your boyfriend's confused expression returned and his hand that went to grab at you, went right through you. You started to feel bad, but as you walked further away—seeing the woman clutch on your boyfriend made all the guilt that was bubbling inside of you burst.

You walked into the bathroom and it was filled with many girls fixing their makeup and drunkenly complimenting each other. Bit by bit they scattered out the bathroom when they heard some generic pop song come on. Simon was leaning against the pink-colored tile walls waiting.

“So, you’ve made your decision?” He asked with his arms crossed over his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t be in here if I didn’t.”

Simon chuckles at your words before he brings his hands to the fabric of the black mask. You were preparing yourself for what you were about to see. You knew he was attractive behind the mask, his whole demeanor screamed it. The way he carried himself. His confidence. You can go on and still be naming many other attributes.

He pulls the mask out and you have to catch yourself from letting your jaw drop. Despite his face being decorated with scars, you had questions about—he still looked like he could have the face of an angel. His dirty blonde colored strands were ruffled due to the mask and his eyes—you’d stared upon them all night but finally putting a face to them made your knees go weak.

You walked closer towards him, “Will they see us?” You asked as you glanced back at the door.

“Only if you want.” He closes the gap between you two.

You mentally were weighing out the pros and cons of this. Frankly, the pros benefit you much more than the cons. So you took that leap and kissed Simon immediately. The sound of the bathroom door swung open, and someone walked in to grab a paper towel. Because of Simon and his silly demon powers, they didn’t even know you two were there. The drunken stranger walked right through you and Simon as you were making out. His hands roamed your body as if you were a precious gem he had just found. Your body attempted to guide him into one of the stalls, but he didn’t budge. You weren’t sure if it was because he had other plans in mind or if it was because of his huge stature.

“It’s not like anyone could see us.” Simon's words mumble against your skin as he places kisses on your neck. His body guides you towards the bathroom sink before he twirls you around.

You were forced to stare at yourself in the mirror at your reflection. The clear lip gloss that formerly stained your lips was smudged across your face. Your eyes were glossy of anticipation and need for a demon you had just met. The feeling of his bulge pressing against your butt causes you to close your eyes and inhale sharply.

“That’s true, but—one mere snap could make them see us.” You spoke out.

“They’ll be too intoxicated to notice.” His eyes met yours in the mirror before he rolled the skirt that left practically nothing for imagination up around your waist. The coolness of the bathroom causes your skin to be garnished with little goosebumps and your hair to stand up on your limbs, you clutch upon the porcelain sink.

You only hum at Simon’s words while he pulls your panties to the side and begins to line himself to insert you after removing his cock from his bottoms. The tip of his cock rubs against your wet folds collecting the essence that stains the inside of your thighs. Each push forward into your pussy, the grip on your waist grew tighter. The sound of his cries of pleasure was like music to your ears. Completely distracting you from the fact that his cock was stretching you out bit by bit.

“Just give me the go and I’ll keep going, love.” He professes. His eyes once more meeting yours and seeing the way your lips part apart to let out a broken moan, gave him the answer he ached to hear. His hips push forward being met with the cushion of your ass and he just wondered with not being touched in so long, how do you like to be fucked.

“How’d you want, Y/N?” Simon questions, his hips rolling in a slow and sensational way causing you to moan some more. “Slow.” He adds before pulling himself fully out of your cunt. “Or.” His voice trails off as he’s lining himself back up to slam inside your addicting pussy again. “Hard.”

Your brain couldn’t comprehend his question quickly enough because he soon gave you a mixture of both. Slow strokes to have you crying out his name as if the people entering and exiting the bathroom could hear you. Fast and hard strokes to have your breath hitch in your throat and for you to hold onto the surface tighter.

The vulgar sound of skin slapping against each other begins to ring in your ears like a sweet jazz tune. Your hand reaches back behind you to slow down Simon’s movement, but he swats your hand away as if it were a mere inconvenience to him. Simon lifts the shirt he wore to bring it up to his mouth. Despite the two of your bodies already crossing a boundary, he needed you to be closer. His teeth held up the ends of his shirt as he thrust forward inside you. Simon has pleasured many people in the world, but nothing was like this. No one has ever clutched around his hardened cock like this. Sweat beads form on his forehead and he felt completely pussy drunk for you.

Your knees were growing weak but, Simon assured you that you don’t fall. With each stroke and thrust, he held you closer to make sure his motion didn’t get interrupted. Tears decorate your lashline causing your mascara to smudge.

“Fuck.” You moaned out. “I’m so clos-” Your words were interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open and your boyfriend walked in making out with the brunette who seemed to be attached by his hip all evening.

“Don’t pay attention to him, only me.” His fingers coil into your hair tugging you up so that your back is pressed against his chest. His eyes never broke eye contact with you in the mirror. “It’s just me and you in here, right?” He questions as he thrusts inside of you.

Your eyes averted to your boyfriend as he was making out with the girl, but he broke the kiss quickly. “I just need to call her, ensure she’s okay. She hasn’t answered my calls and that’s not like her.”

“Hmm, wonder what she’s doing.” Simon teasingly whispers in your ear. “Is she home watching her silly little Halloween movies or is she getting fucked like a slut in a bathroom?” With each word, he thrusts inside you.

“She’s probably just sleeping.” The brunette pecks your boyfriend’s lips. “Or getting fucked.” She jokes and your boyfriend pushes her away.

“That’s not funny.” He says before he tries to leave the bathroom and through the sound of your heated flesh slapping against Simon’s toned thighs, his finger snaps just in time for your boyfriend to see a glimpse of his pretty girlfriend (who he assumed was home) getting fucked a stranger he didn’t know.

Your boyfriend’s eyes enlarged at the sight but before he could fully react, Simon snapped his fingers once more causing the two of you to be merely an illusion once more. Your boyfriend ran his hand over his face finally coming to terms that he had to get out of here. He had to ensure that you were home right where he assumed you were. As Simon continued to fuck you until you were seeing stars, your paranoid boyfriend rushed out of the bathroom calling your phone that was still home. Each second, your phone went to voice mail causing your boyfriend to spiral even more at the thought that a handsome stranger had you bent over in the bar he frequently goes to.

“And my work here is done, love. Sweets dreams.” Simon kisses the side of your temple just in time for you to finally orgasm all over his cock—but eventually, jolt up in your bedroom in a cold sweat and your panties soaked.

Instantly, your hands run over your body where Simon formerly touched. Your fingertips dance upon your lips that he once kissed trying to process everything that just happened. He did say you were dreaming, but it felt so real. The demon costume hugging your body like a latex glove felt real. Simon’s cock being inside you felt real.

But your suspicions were deemed true as your boyfriend burst through the room in a panic. Sweat droplets embellish his forehead as if he ran all the way home to you.

“Y/N, did you go out tonight?” Your boyfriend asked.

With false confusion plastered on your face, you blinked a couple of times.

“No, is everything okay? Maybe you’re being just a bit paranoid, babe.”

And in his own realm which was the home of incubus demons around the world, Simon viewed the conversation unfold with a smirk.

“That’s my girl.”

⸻ TAGS // @syndrlla97 @leoyayzies @salaciousdoll @xintothewoodswegox @bxrbie1 @lilvampirina @wiinterz @dvafoxxystrashcan

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #female reader #call of duty x reader #video game x reader #angelshubnetwork #chosoistkinktober23 #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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withleeknow · 2 months

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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, lil fluff, lil angst, mentions of physical pain bc it's shark week and we're cramping lol ok, unedited bc i wrote this a couple months ago and i just wanted to post smth today and i'm currently half asleep word count: 0.4k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

minho comes home to a quiet house, four of his favorite beings nowhere to be found. he takes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, put his keys where he can easily fetch them the next morning, and ventures into the living room. though, he soon stops in his tracks when his eyes find the couch situated in the middle of the room.

there’s a human-sized lump completely hidden under a fleece blanket on the cream-colored sofa, surrounded by soonie, doongie, and dori, all curled up and sleeping peacefully.

doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the lump is.

you, his love.

minho approaches the couch with careful footsteps and a pretty good guess as to why you’ve resorted to being a lump for the day. the tracker app on his phone did notify him that it should happen any day now.

when he sits down by your feet, soonie shoots up with a hiss before calming down immediately afterward, upon the realization that it's just his other owner.

“hey,” minho calls softly, placing a hand on your leg. “you sleeping?”

there’s a grunt, then the lump moves. he assumes it’s you shaking your head under there.

“does it hurt?” he asks.

the lump shifts again - a nod, he thinks - but this time, it’s accompanied by a softer sound, nearly a whimper.

he sighs, because he hates to see you in pain. hates that this helpless feeling has become a monthly visitor in your home. the first two days are often the worst for you.

“i’ll be right back,” he says, and again, he doesn’t get anything other than an incoherent noise, but it’s not like he was expecting a verbal response anyway.

minho returns a few minutes later with all of the essentials that you were in too much discomfort to get yourself. your trusty heating pad, a glass of warm water and pills, your favorite mango almond chocolate, a fluffy pillow so your neck doesn’t hurt from lying on the couch for too long.

peeling the blanket off so that he can prop the pillow under your head and give you the heating pad, he practically winces when he sees the pained expression on your face. you open your eyes to find him, and you look like you're close to crying. this month must be worse than usual.

“i’ll make you something to eat and then you can take your painkillers,” he tells you.

“thank you.” the words come out weak, but minho knows you mean them.

soft lips press themselves against your forehead, full of love and an unspoken i wish i could do more for you.

“i love you. give me twenty minutes, okay?”

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#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho #blurbs

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user00003123 · 11 months

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NOW LIVE: BUILDING A BOND feat. t. fushiguro

SUMMARY: when your parents get you a job as a psychologist at the prison, you don't expect to take such an interest in one of the inmates.

CONTENT WARNINGS: inmate! toji! x psychologist! fem! reader, smut, mdni, modern prison au, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, clit play, fingering, finger sucking, nipple sucking, slight choking, toji is kind of degrading, oral (f. & m. receiving), p in v, cow girl, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), panty stealing, nicknames (Doc, slut, dirty girl, nasty girl, good girl) wc: 4,117

"I'm sorry—what?"

"Look sweetie, you said it yourself. You went to school so that you could help people, and what's more helpful than being a psychologist for the prison, hm?" your mother sat next to you on the couch one arm around your shoulders and the other holding your hand.

"Your mother is right sweetie, this has been your dream since you were a little girl," your father speaks up from his desk.

"Working at a prison was not my dream," your arms are folded across your chest. "When I got my degree, I was thinking more of a cute office where I talk to children and teens to help them. Not grown men who did who knows what to get themselves in a prison," you slightly yell getting off the couch and standing in front of your father's desk.

"I get it sweetie, but if I didn't think you were the right one for this position, I wouldn't have volunteered you," your father gets up from his desk and walks over to you. He places his hands on both your shoulders, sighing, "You are the smartest, most compassionate young woman I've ever met. I know it's not the job you wanted, but maybe it's the job you needed."

Maybe he was right, I mean these men weren't emotionally stable and it could benefit them to talk to you.

The next day you were dressed in a black pantsuit with black flats, making sure to not have any flashy jewelry on. When arriving you had to go through extensive security, to make sure you didn't have any contraband, or anything harmful that could be used against you.

"You're the new psychologist aren't you?" A tall man with white hair asks you as you're leaving the security office. He was also dressed in all black, but with a vest that had police stitched on it in white.

"What gave it away?" you ask with a raised eyebrow. He tilts his head eyeing your outfit.

"You're cheerful being here," he laughs, hands now on the vest with the many pockets, and you notice the gun on his hip.

"I'm just trying to be hopeful that I can help these men in some way," you say running your hands down your shirt.

"I admire that, hope is not something that people have in here. Maybe you'll change that," you give him a small smile. "I'm Gojo, by the way. I'll be your security guard for the day."

"Just the day?" you follow him down a long hallway.

"Like me already?" you roll your eyes with a light laugh. "I'm messing with ya' sweetheart. Each day every guard has a different place we'll be in the prison. Mine is sadly guarding solitary the next couple days."

You hum in response and continue to follow him until you're in the medical bay. You meet the nurses, desk attendants, and other guards before Gojo takes you to your office. You give him a thanks as you put you're bag down looking around the room.

Empty white walls, a two-person cream-colored sofa, and a white desk with a matching chair. Very bland, but anything else added and it could've been used against you. Sitting at the desk you start to take a look at the files of the patients who would be visiting you. Some have a tragic back story, other don't, and you started to feel a bit overwhelmed. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you calmed yourself down just as a knock was heard on the door.

"Come in!" Gojo comes in with a long black-haired inmate who has an unidentifiable expression on his face.

"Cuffs on or off?" Gojo questions. You think on it for a second then tell him off. Letting the inmates not have their cuffs on shows you have some type of trust in them and helps build the bond for them to trust you.

"Behave yourself, Geto," Gojo starts to walk out of the office before turning to you again. "Remember, just yell or push the panic button and I'll come right in."

"Thanks," you smile at him before motioning for Geto to have a seat on your couch. He does and the two of you talk, he opens up quite a bit about how he feels about him being in here and why he's even in here in the first place. It's a great start to your day and every patient after Geto is pretty up or down. Either they wanna talk or they give you a hard time, but it's only the first day.

Your last patient comes in while you're fixing all the files on your desk, clearing his throat to let you know of his presence. You're eyes trailed up his body, black uniform pants, black wife-beater, his big beefy arms decorated in black ink, and a cocky little smirk plastered on his face. You look down at your schedule to see his name and you give him a smile then tell Gojo it's okay to take off his cuffs.

"You sure sweetheart, I'm a dangerous man," his eyes are staring right into yours, his smirk never leaving his face. Gojo leaves when you give him a nod and you gesture to the sofa for the new patient to sit down.

"Is that how you see yourself, Toji? Dangerous?" He leans his body back relaxing into the seat with a sigh.

"Of course, I do, Doc. I've hurt people, had blood on my hands. I know I'm dangerous," his eyes are watching you as you write down in your notes, before looking at him again.

"Are you proud of that?" you question tilting your head.

He puts a finger on his chin like he was thinking before letting out a laugh, "I am actually." Standing up from the sofa, he walks over to where you're sitting, leaning over you and the desk, "I did what I had to do to protect the ones I love. I had my reasons."

Before you could even respond, he was walking out the door, "Thanks for the session, Doc."

Re-reading Toji's file, you notice that it says he has a son and a daughter and was married before the incident. Your heart sinks thinking about how his kids must feel not having their father, even more so how Toji must feel not being able to be with his kids. He's right, he has his reasons for doing what he did, even as violent as it was, it was for the people he cared about.

The next few days Toji didn't show back up to the office, and honestly, you were worried about him. That Thursday when Gojo was your security guard again you ask him about Toji.

"He seems angrier than normal, and he hasn't said a word since he left your office on Monday," you were looking around the yard, spectating how the inmates engaged with one another or just with themselves. You saw Toji lifting weights in the corner of the yard, he was by himself, no one daring to come up and intrude. "Don't dwell too much, he'll come talk to you when the time is right. Just like the rest of these men."

The next day you go through your appointments, some of your patients opening up more than when you first meet them, making sure you tell each of them that you're proud of the progress they're making. You started to pack up for the weekend when it was time for Toji's appointment, knowing he wasn't coming, until a knock at your door startles you.

"Come in!" Toji walks through the door, head high, and another smirk on his face as Gojo walks in behind him, hands holding Toji's cuffed ones behind his back.

"He asked me to bring him." You smile lightly then gesture for Gojo to take off the cuffs before he leaves your office. Toji sits down on the sofa while you lean on your desk, giving him your full attention. Your eyes wandered on his body, seeing a few red marks and some sweat.

"My eyes are up here, sweetheart," you laugh slightly embarrassed, eyes staring right into his.

"I heard you don't work weekends, so I wanted to come talk to you before you left."

"Of course. What is it you would like to talk about?" you ask hand clasped in your lap.

"I want to apologize for my actions on Monday. I am not the talking type and never really have been, probably why my marriages haven't worked out." He whispered the last part, and you jotted that down in your head. "You were just doing your job and I don't need to make it any harder."

"I appreciate you apologizing Toji but know you didn't have to. I don't understand what's it like to be here, but I know that this environment isn't the best one to make you feel like you want to open up about your feelings," you smile and it warms his heart. "You don't have to come every day if it feels like too much for you. We can start at whatever pace it is you want if you even want to come to talk to me."

"Thanks, Doc, and I'm fine with meeting every day. I'm hoping that talking to you will help me get on parol so I can see my kids." He's being sincere and you admire that.

"As long as you make me believe that you've learned your lesson about being in here, I will get you parol, Toji," you give him a genuine smile and he returns it.

"I want to be a better man, for my kids," and for the next couple weeks, he saw you every day. During the first two weeks, he was still having a hard time being completely honest about his feelings, telling you small details about how he ended up here, or about his childhood. You didn't push him though, you didn't push any of your patients. Building trust with them is about letting them learn to trust you at their own pace, letting them open up at their speed, and as long as you give them the time to open up, your job will be easier.

Around the second month of Toji coming in every day, he felt himself become so intrigued with you. Whenever you weren't around, you were all he could think about, your eyes that drew him in whenever he looked at them too long, your legs that he couldn't stop thinking about wrapping around his waist as he pounded into you, and your pretty full lips that he imagines is his hand when fisting his cock late at night in his cell.

It would be a lie if you said you didn't think about him that way either. How could you not? Always having his big beefy biceps on display when he wore a wife beater. His uniform pants hung low on his hips and as soon as he sat down they were tight and you could see the print of dick against his thigh.

You always sat behind your desk when you met with your patients, so it was no different when it came to Toji, which made it easier to hide the fact that you were clenching your thighs together to release the tension you felt between your legs. Then one day as you were about to sit down at your desk Toji asks if you would sit next to him instead.

"I don't think it's appropriate to be so close to one of my patients," you smile and you could see a small pout on his face.

"Don't you want your patients to feel comfortable and feel you are building a bond with them?" He tilts his head and you laugh, knowing what he's doing. You grab your notebook and pen and sit at the other end of the couch, crossing one leg over the other. He smiles at you and places both his hands in his lap, hinting he won't try anything.

"We haven't gotten into your past relationships. Would you like to talk about your ex-wives or anyone you've been involved with?"

"Like people I've fucked?" he smirks and you shake your head looking down at your notepad.

"If that has anything to do with the person you are today or why you ended up here then sure."

"Sure it does, I mean how else would I have gotten two kids in this world without fucking some pretty girls," you rolled your eyes. "You have any kids, Doc?"

"No, I don't."

"Why not?" he questions.

"Toji, we're here to talk about you—”

"We're building a bond," your body leans back on the sofa letting out a sigh.

"I'm just not the motherly type," you tap your pen lightly against the notepad.

"So you just have casual sex then, nothing serious?" you can see the small smirk on his face.

"What does my sex life have to do with you?" you put your pen down and look at him.

"I'm just curious, Doc, wanna get to know you," he's grinning, trying to get in your head.

You raise your eyebrow, "Asking me about sex is getting to know me?" All he does is nod his head and you roll your eyes mumbling a 'fine.'

You turn your body towards him still leaning against the couch with your legs crossed, "Yes, I just have casual sex."

"Is it.....good?"

You laughed a little at the question, "I mean sometimes it is, other times not so much."

"What's the kind of sex you like?" his lip was between his teeth, he's just curious.

You tapped your chin with your finger in thought, "I don't know, I like it all." You looked at Toji, eyes scanning over his muscular arms, then down to his pants where you could see him getting hard. "Most of the time, sex just depends on the mood that's set."

"So what's the mood that's set right now?" your eyes widened at how forward the question was, clearing your throat as you looked away from him.

"Toji—"

"You know you want to, Doc," he slides his hand from off his lap and onto your leg. He was running his fingers back and forth on your smooth skin, your body felt hot and a shock of electricity ran up your back. You knew this was wrong, so so wrong, but it just felt so right.

He leaned his bigger body closer to yours, lips ghosting right over the shell of your ear as his hand pushed off your notepad and pen, making its way under your tight pencil skirt and rubbing his fingers over your panties, "Such a dirty girl getting all wet for an inmate."

You did feel dirty, about to fuck your patient in your office of a prison, it was disgusting, but your pussy has never been wetter at the thought. You turned his head towards you bringing him into a heated kiss. His tongue was exploring your mouth as his fingers were sliding your panties over to rub circles on your clit. Moaning in his mouth, he smirked against your lips, "Lemme eat your pussy, Doc."

He stood up from the couch, fingers still massaging your clit as his lips are still entangled with yours. A string of saliva connects your lips as he bends down in front of you, both hands grabbing your thighs and spreading them apart. He can see a wet spot on your panties, and swipes his tongue across the spot, briefly tasting your bitter juice and letting out a moan, "Didn't think I'd miss eating pussy, but God I did."

He pulls your panties down and off your legs making sure to slide them in his pockets, then uses two fingers to spread your folds apart, exposing your glossy pussy to the cold air in your office, "You have such a pretty pussy, Doc."

Letting out a needy whine when you feel his breath against your cunt, it causes your aching hole to clench around nothing, Toji's eyes widened at the sight, "Toji... please just eat my pussy!"

He smirks at your whining, leaning his head down to kiss your clit, "Your such a nasty girl..." His tongue slid down your folds, breathing in your scent, "acting like a slut for an inmate." Your head is leaned back against the couch, moaning at the contact from his warm tongue. His tongue is circling your clit before he's closing his lips around it, sucking the nub into his mouth.

"Mmm—Toji!" your moans are music to his ears as your thighs are squeezing around his head. He's so messy, practically making out with your pussy, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs, "Mouth feels....so good." Your fingers are tangled in his black hair, as your rutting against his face, and he's moaning at your taste.

He slides one hand up your body, tapping his fingers on your lips, and you open your mouth allowing two of his thick digits to sit on your tongue as you suck on them, "You gotta be quiet dirty girl, don't want us to get caught, huh?" You nod your head, legs lightly shaking around his head, as he continues to lap at your messy cunt.

Your clit feels tingly as you feel a hot feeling of pleasure bubbling in your lower stomach, your toes are curling, and Toji's name is rolling off your tongue like a song. He laughs lowly, the vibration sending a shock up your spine, "Aw, Doc, you gonna cum already?"

His eyes are looking right into yours as you nod your head frantically, still sucking on his fingers. Your roll your hips into his face, chasing your orgasm, fingers gripping onto his hair, and right as he starts flicking his tongue against your clit once more, your legs are shutting around his head as your back arches off the couch, "Fuck, fuck—Toji I'm cumming!" He continues to slurp at your cunt, getting you through your orgasm, hand rubbing your thigh soothingly.

"God, your pussy tastes so good," he smiles wide as he's licking his lips, and removes his fingers from your mouth. You steady your breathing as you open your eyes seeing his dopey grin.

"You know for you to have been in here for 5 years, you're good at eating pussy," you laugh sitting up on the couch, then bring him into a slow sloppy kiss, letting your hand trail down and rub against the bulge that was in his pants.

"I don't have time for teasing, sweetheart, I'm already on edge from eating your pussy," he groans against your lips.

"Then stand up," he was quick to stand to his feet, your eyes looking right up at him as your sat on the couch. You kiss against this clothed bulge, fanning your breath over it and his head is leaning back.

"Fuck, Doc, just take it out," your hands are pulling down his pants just past his balls, eyes widening at the size of his cock.

"So big," you moan licking the underside of his cock and your eyes are watching his expressions. His lip between his teeth, eyes screwed shut, and his big hand holding the back of your neck. Parting your lips letting just his tip past your lips, tasting the salty pre-cum that was leaking. You swirl your tongue around his tip, then widen your mouth to take more of his length while a hand fondles his balls.

Bobbing your head taking most of his fat cock, he's groaning and bucking his hips into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat making you gag, "Yeah, gag on my cock, Doc." He's watching you with dark, hungry eyes, as breathy, deep moans slip past his lips, he's struggling to keep himself quiet, "Such a good girl, with a filthy mouth."

You moan at his dirty talk, fingers massaging his warm squishy balls, as you relax your mouth deep throating him as best you could. He squeezed the back of your neck pulling you off his cock then leaned down to kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth, "Feel like a fucking virgin 'bout to cum in 2 seconds."

Spitting on his fingers, he rubs your clit, then stuffs two of his fingers in your wet hole, you instantly spread your legs, and moan against his lips, "Tell me how you want me to fuck you, Doc."

"I don't know—mmm—just put it inside me," he's kissing you again before a hand wraps around your neck and he's whispering in your ear.

"Ride this dick," he pulls his fingers out of your soaking cunt, you rise to your feet quickly, switching places with him so he's now sat on the couch. He grabs each of your thighs placing them on the sides of his so you're straddling him, hands on your hips as yours are around his neck.

He guides you down on his length, both of you moaning feeling the stretch, "Fuck, pussy's so tight." Once you're fully sat on Toji's thighs, he doesn't rush you, letting you get used to him, kissing on your neck, then sliding up your sweater to expose your boobs, sucking on one of your nipples.

Your rise your hips until it's just his tip that's in you before sliding back down, taking him fully again. You keep the slow pace of riding him, as his hands are rubbing softly on your hips, lips still sucking on your hard nipple as you moan his name. "Toji feels soo good," you whine head leaning in the crook of his neck.

"How about you speed up for me?" you do as your told, lifting your hips again and then slamming them back down on his thighs. Your ass continues to slap against his thighs, the sound of how of wet you are filling the room. Toji moans in your ear about how wet your pussy is, you can't do anything besides moan his name, so intoxicated with the feeling of him filling you up.

Your legs were starting to give out, Toji could feel you slowing down, so he moved his hands under your ass slamming you down on his cock as he started to thrust up meeting you halfway. Kneading the flesh of your ass before smacking it, you let out a yelp clenching around his shaft and Toji's head fell back against the couch, "Fuck, Doc, pussy so good, you're gonna make me cum already."

He moves one hand to play with your puffy clit, and you moan loud in his ear, making him turn his head and capture your lips in a kiss, shushing you. You grind your hips into his fingers and within a minute your creaming all over his cock, squeezing him with your gummy walls, and he's coming right after you. Lifting you off of him and cumming on your stomach, with a loud moan of your name.

Your forehead is leaning against his as you both calm your breathing down before you're lifting off of him and heading to your desk to grab tissues to wipe off his cum. "For an inmate, your stamina ain't too bad," you laugh fixing your clothes.

"Well if we make this a regular thing, it could get better," he's pulling his pants back up, his eyes glued to you. Before you could respond there was a knock on the door, you both look at each other before he sat back down on the couch and you sitting at your desk.

"Come in!" you yell and Gojo walks in with a concerned look on his face.

"Everything okay? You guys took longer than normal?" Gojo questions arms crossed against this chest.

"Yeah, I was just crying about my past," Toji pouts and Gojo scoffs.

"Yeah right," Gojo leans against the door frame.

"I was explaining to him about my past, and it got a little emotional," you explain. "Building a bond with my patients requires trust on both ends."

"Hm, makes sense," he walks over closer to Toji. "But I'm going to have to break up this bonding moment, all inmates need to be in their cells."

You nod in understanding, and Toji stands up, hands behind his back, so Gojo can put on the cuffs. "Same time tomorrow, Doc?" Toji looks towards his pocket where your pink panties are sticking out with a smirk.

Your eyes widen as you force a smile, "Same time tomorrow."

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levithestripper · 4 months

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would they peel an orange for you

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader, none

included characters: yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, toge inumaki, yuta okkotsu, and kokichi muta (mechamaru).

length: 1.2k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

a/n: i just finished both seasons of jjk and gege owes me money for therapy

— Yuji Itadori

Yuji wouldn’t need to be asked to peel an orange for you. He’d be making himself a snack and decides to bring you something too, ‘cause he knows you’ll sneak stuff off his plate anyway, so why not get you your own snack? He also peels your orange nicely, even picking off that icky white string you hate. Yuju brings it to you on a plate, and the gesture makes you smile as he snuggles next to you on the couch in the common area.

“An orange?” you ask, looking up at him from your seat on the sofa. You’re covered up to your chin in a fluffy blanket, warding off the chill you felt due to Yuji’s absence. You swear the man’s like a walking furnace.

“I was getting myself a snack, so I thought I’d get you something, too!” Yuji replies with a smile so bright that it rivals the sun. “I know you like oranges, and you haven’t had one in a while, so I thought you’d like one!” He sits next to you again, wriggling underneath the blanket, putting his cold feet on your bare legs, making you squeal.

You take the plate from him after he stops torturing you with his maliciously cold toes. “Yu!” Yuji just kisses your cheek happily, tangling his legs with yours. Now that he’s had fun, Yuji’s careful not to get his cold feet on you.

— Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi would also peel you an orange, but you’d have to ask him first. You’ll be sitting in his room together, with you on his bed and him at his desk. Last time he was out in the city, Megumi bought a mini fridge for his dorm room so he doesn’t have to walk all the way to the kitchens when he’s hungry late at night.

“Hey, Megs?” you gaze over at him, your head hanging off the edge of his bed, hair dangling upside down with you.

He turns to meet your gaze, chin in his palm. “Yes, my love?” The afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows illuminates Megumi’s pretty features, beautifully highlighting his dark chocolate eyes.

“Could you get me an orange from the mini fridge?”

He nods, silently leaning over and snagging a clementine out of the fridge. Pushing his homework out of the way and unfolding a napkin, Megumi fully peels it in just a few strips, tossing the rind in the trash can underneath his desk. With a soft smile, he wraps your orange in the napkin, placing it in your outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Megs,” you return his smile, moving to sit crisscross. You giddily eat your orange slices, the fruit tasting much better since your boyfriend prepared it. Megumi watches you eat, his chin returning to his palm like before. His oversized cream-colored sweater makes him look like a soft, snuggly teddy bear. “You should take a break, baby. You’ve been working for hours!” you exaggerate, making him giggle quietly.

Megumi sighs with a smile before joining you on his bed, curling up beside you like a cat, resting his head on your shoulder. “I don’t think it’s been hours, love,” he chuckles, stealing an orange slice.

“Hey!”

“Payment, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him but pretend to not see Megumi steal another slice a few moments later.

— Toge Inumaki

Toge also would need to be asked to peel an orange for you. He’s more than happy to do it, as one of his love languages is acts of service. He peels it while sitting on the couch beside you, watching whatever you had on the television. He may or may not take a few pieces for himself in the process.

You lean against him, your head on his shoulder, watching Toge’s nimble fingers fix a snack for you. He separates the orange into individual slices, making it easier to eat as you watch TV. When he hands you the plate, you find a few slices missing, only to see Toge eating them.

“Toge! Those’re mine!” you exclaim, looking at him as if he had deliberately kicked one of your stuffed animals off the bed.

He makes a face at you. “Fish flakes.”

“Oh, don’t fish flakes me, Toge,” you grumble, “No more eating my snacks!”

Toge makes another face at you, teasing you in that silent way he’s gotten good at. He snags another slice before you can move your plate away, a stupid grin spreading across his lips.

— Yuta Okkotsu

Yuta will peel your orange for you, but he’d be sassy about it the entire time. He’s happy to do it, but he’ll be teasing you while he does it. Standing by the counter, Yuta’s peeling your orange in small bits, tossing the skin on a paper towel. “You need me to peel your grapes, too, angel?” he teases, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“You don’t peel grapes, dumbass.”

“You peel them for babies,” Yuta smirks.

You shoot him a warning glare like you’re daring him to continue that train of thought.

He giggles as he finishes sectioning the orange. “I’m not above chucking this at you, angel.”

“Shut up and give me my damn orange,” you snark at him, leaving him in the kitchen to make yourself comfy on the sectional in the common room. The second year’s dorm rooms have better amenities than the first-year dorms.

He sits beside you, throwing a blanket across both of your laps. “You’re so demanding.”

“And you’re annoying.”

“And you love it,” Yuta grins, kissing your cheek.

— Kokichi Muta

Kokichi would one hundred percent hands down peel an orange for you. He’s so incredibly grateful to be with you in person that he’d probably kill someone for you if you asked. So yeah, he’d peel you an orange. He’d probably peel you two oranges. Kokichi would try to peel it into a heart shape, but if it didn’t work the way he wanted, he’d just arrange the longest scraps into a vague heart shape the best he could.

Sitting at the breakfast counter, you watch Kokichi prepare a lovely breakfast for both of you. Bacon sizzles on the stove next to a pan of over-easy eggs. While he waits for the bacon to finish, Kokichi plates the eggs and toast before grabbing a bag of fruit from the fridge. He washes a handful of red and green grapes and sets them in a bowl, now quickly peeling two oranges, one for you and one for him. He places the fruit on your plate, careful to keep it from touching your eggs.

You didn’t expect Kokichi to prepare your fruit for you; no one besides your parents when you were little had ever done that before. “Oh, Chi, you didn’t have to do that for me,” you say, affection warming your chest.

He smiles at you sweetly, his scar stretching slightly. “I know. I wanted to.” Kokichi lifts the bacon pan off the stove, holding it over the counter while he splits it evenly on each plate. “I know you don’t like the feeling of the peel underneath your nails.”

Kokichi’s words fill you with so much love and other indescribable emotions that it makes you want to scream. You pull him to lean over the counter for a kiss. “What did I do to deserve you, Chi?”

He grins against your lips, kissing you back with all the passion bubbling inside his chest as well. “You deserve all this and more, you know. But we’ve gotta eat before our eggs get cold.”

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 5 days

Text

“patience” - hotch x fem!reader

aaron visits you after a long case and wants you badly

cw: MDNI! implied smut? smut adjacent? Pre established relationship. I dunno I just wanted making out with hotch

1550 words

———————

Why does he look hungry for you? Why does he look like he wants to eat you, literally eat you, like a cannibal? You stand in the doorway of your apartment, staring at him across the threshold. “Hi,” you say after the silence has become unbearable.

“Hi. Sorry,” Aaron snaps out of it, and you watch his tongue jut out to moisten his lips. “Can I come in? I wanted to see you,” he admits.

“Yeah, of course,” you step aside and allow him in, and lock the door behind him. “You know it’s like, super-late, right?” You ask, running your hand over your face. You’re in a matching pajama set that has colorful ice cream cones printed on it and you have your hair wrapped up in one of those heatless curling rods, making the lustful look on Aaron’s face all the more confusing.

“I know, honey, I’m sorry,” he sighs, stepping towards you and pulling you by the wrist. You let him wrap you in his arms. He smells of airplane and that Irish spring-scented soap. “I should have called first. I have a one-track mind when I’m this tired.”

“Where’s Jack?” You ask. You always want to make sure Aaron’s putting his little boy first, and he always does by default. But you never want Aaron to think you want to be prioritized over his son.

“At his aunt’s. I didn’t want to wake him up this late - he’s got a big test tomorrow,” Aaron mumbles as you wrap your arms around his torso and run your nails lightly over his back. Through his suit jacket, he feels thick like an encyclopedia.

“But it was okay to wake me up?” You tease, pulling back to smirk up at him.

“You don’t have a big test tomorrow, do you?” Aaron asks all-knowingly. You shake your head - no, you don’t. Just the same menial job you’ve been at for nearly a year. Aaron kisses your forehead. “That’s what I thought.” He places one hand over your shoulder, and his thumb brushes over your hair. He chuckles softly at the heatless curl rod in your hair, his thumb pressing into it curiously. “And what is this contraption for?” He asks.

“To curl my hair,” you say indignantly. “Beauty doesn’t come easily, you know.”

“Sure it does,” Aaron muses in that far-off voice, and you wonder for a second if your All-American Straight Shooter Poster Boy for Sobriety was high. “You make it look like a cakewalk,” he adds, and you shake your head. Not high, then. Just tired.

“Long case?” You ask, stifling a chuckle as Aaron backs up towards the sofa, tugging you gently with him. He sits down and you follow suit, tucking your feet under your rear and turning to face him.

“Very long,” Aaron grimaces. You run your fingers through his hair - it’s so soft. How is it so soft? He was just in South Dakota for five days straight. When does he find the time for hair care? “I missed you. Can I… can I just touch you, Y/N?” He asks. “Please?”

The fact that you are braless, in a matching pajama set, and have the hair of a carnival performer is not lost on you. He really must have missed you, to want to come over here as soon as the plane lands, to want to see you so badly. How could you possibly say no to such a request?

You nod your head, reaching forward to help him out of his suit jacket. He folds it neatly over the side of the couch, taking his time to purposefully drive you crazy.

Aaron’s smirking subtly as he reaches for your wrists. His index and middle fingers glide up your arm, following your veins torturously, and you move to straddle him against the couch. His hands are on your hips in an instant as your knees press into the couch cushions.

He’s rubbing your lower back as you lean down to kiss him. It’s slow and gentle, as if to ease him back into it after his week out of state. You coax this desperate, thickly-lined sigh out of him, and when you pull back with an arched brow, he’s smiling at you sheepishly. “It was a really, very long case?” He proffers as explanation, and you exhale amusedly through your nose.

“You can just say you missed me,” you suggest.

“I did already.”

“You can just say it again,” you counter, reaching up to cup his face with your hands. He leans into your touch. He blinks those big dark eyes at you a couple times and smiles slowly as you continue speaking. “You can say it until my ego is so inflated that I have to move into a bigger apartment.”

“An ego that big would be a fire hazard,” Aaron jokes. You swipe your thumb across the apple of his cheeks. He leans his head forward and his lips are pressed against your ear. He complies in a low voice that pours out as smooth, expensive whiskey. “I missed you.” He kisses the space just below your earlobe. “I missed you.” He kisses the side of your jaw. “I missed you.”

Your knees wobble as your hips roll forward. Your body is entirely liquid as Aaron pulls his head back and gauges your expression. “Aw, honey,” he teases, squeezing your hips tightly. “You’re blushing.”

You kiss him instead of trying to come up with a quippy response. Any wittiness has oozed out of your brain at this point as your tongue goes rogue, juts out to part Aaron’s lips. He allows you passage and you’re gliding your tongue along his teeth and dancing around his. A needy mewl escapes you and Aaron’s lap goes firm and hard beneath you.

You pull back and see how red his cheeks are. “Who’s blushing now?” You tease, feeling powerful and victorious. Aaron lifts one hand to cradle your face, thumb on your cheekbone. The rest of his fingers are splayed behind your ear and you feel every single one of his nerve endings against yours.

You can’t help yourself.

You’re the cannibal now, as you lean forward and kiss his neck - god, his neck. Your lips are hungry as they trail along his throat, kissing briefly and nipping here and there, and your hands are desperate as they comb through his hair.

He’s sighing, deep and coarse and throaty, and you keep kissing him, wanting to coax out as many of those noises as possible. His hands are everywhere as both your gears kick into overdrive. You’re mapping out his neck and his jaw with your mouth and Aaron’s ginormous hands are sliding freely under the ice cream pajama top. The pads of his fingers make your stomach flutter, and he’s sliding his hands up, up, up to your breasts.

You feel like a teenager going to second base in the back of a car. “Take my shirt off, Aaron,” you whisper, and he gives a low chuckle.

“Yes, ma’am,” his voice is hoarse and amused as his hands slide out from under your shirt to undo the cheap plastic buttons. “I like it when you’re assertive, you know,” he says, and you watch his fingers deftly slide the buttons through the holes.

Your shirt is off and your nipples are instantly reminded that you do not have a bra on. The cold air of the living room hits them and they perk up. Aaron’s staring directly at them like he’s about to interrogate them.

“Hey,” you snap your finger, and his eyes click up to yours. “Eyes up here, buddy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Aaron laughs tenderly. “You just asked me to take your shirt off. How am I supposed to just not look at them?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I dunno,” you concede. And when Aaron’s hands are sliding up your torso again - so warm and calloused, his hands - you inhale sharply. Anticipation was never something you were good at. His fingers spread away from his thumbs and he’s cupping your breasts. You watch him. He’s like a little kid at an aquarium, awe-struck and sensitized, as he kneads your breasts.

Thumbs swipe over your nipples and your breath catches in your throat. You whimper, and Aaron presses his head forward.

His forehead is flush against your sternum and your arms instinctively loop around his neck as he buries his head into you. You stifle a girlish giggle when his lips kiss your breasts - left, then right - and then he’s sucking on the skin and pulling it between his teeth. You could die right now, you realize, and you’d be blissfully happy.

Your hips roll forward again, on instinct, and your center is so hot and desperate for friction that you reach down for it. Aaron catches your hand before you can even pull at your waistband.

He kisses the inside of your wrist and looks up at you. “I’ll get there,” he promises. Aaron’s dark eyes are lustful and you can tell just by looking at him that this was his plan all along. You don’t mind at all being a source of comfort for him.

“I want you so bad,” you exhale breathily.

“It’s going to be a long night, honey,” he vows. “But you’ll get what you want eventually.”

#basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch fic #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds aaron hotchner #Hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfic

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beiasluv · 5 months

Text

ice creams? | cl16 + al12

a/n: Idk this is so random, lmk if you guys found it cute or weird 💀

Being a Monegasque resident had its perks – being the Leclercs’ neighbor also had its perks.

Like getting a bowl of Bouillabaisse when they heard you were sick, getting invited to Charles’s karting race – and he won, or babysitting the little devils. One of them was Charles, a seven-year-old, or what he likes to say that he is ‘thee years older than arth’; and Arthur, the four-year-old.

Okay, maybe that last one wasn’t much of a perk.

—

Fridays called for an extra long time in bed, snuggling into your air-conditioned room and, definitely, without a blasting ringing down your hallway – your cream-colored house phone, hanging by the bronzed framed mirror.

Groaning as you threw the pink duvet off your body, slipping into your slippers – not so sure whether your parents leaving for a business trip was so good after all.

“Hello?” You said, rubbing your eyes clear to make out the dimmed outlines of your hallway. Approaching midnight if your mental clock worked properly.

“Hi, chérie,” came the reply, the caller not sounding not so much better than you. “I’m sorry for calling in so late, is it possible for you to look after the boys–”

“Yes– yes, I’ll be over.” It slipped off your mouth, not sure whether where that urgency came from. Or was it the growing worry for the two little boys.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you, chérie.” She sighed. “Lorenzo got himself in trouble, we’re going to the ER–”

“Maman, don’t worry. I got them,” you cut her off, shaking your head unconsciously. Perhaps biting your smile that how one of them managed to get in trouble again this week.

“Thank you so much, dear.”

Mumbling the last ‘see you’ to the speaker, you hung the handset back to its hook on the wall. Not that it was the end of the world babysitting the younger Leclercs, they were sweethearts – what’s the worst that could happen, right?

—

Everything came in a blur: knocking at their front door, Pascale and Harvé rushing to greet you while whisking Lorenzo out the door, and then seeing Charles and Arthur coloring with their crayons on the carpet in the middle of the living room.

The one that you were so sure was filled with tears a couple of hours ago while ‘whatever happened’ happened.

Now, the three of you found yourselves on the sofa, watching the television, and the boys stuffing their faces with popcorn just to make them a little bit fuller and slower.

Which, you were sure, was not happening any soon. They were restless. A giggling mess, if you will.

“Aren’t you guys a little tired?” You asked, trying to see if they were hinting just a little bit of a yearning for bed, that you were sure to whisk them away if they were. Yawning and rubbing your eyes were not helping.

Arthur got his little legs propped up in a ‘M-shaped’ way, while Charles snuggled next to your arms on the other side. They blinked their brown eyes from stimulating cartoons on the television to your eyes – still big and bright as ever.

"Nooo..." both Charles and Arthur replied almost at the same time, shaking their little heads left to right. The older one said with his mouth full of popcorn and the younger one continued to find his arms in an interesting position.

“Alright…what do you guys wanna do?” You appealed to in defeat, rubbing your eyes.

"Let's play hide and seek!" Arthur yelled, looking at his brother for a support. As if seeing the little gears turning in little Charles’s head, his little eyes litting up in the process.

"Yes! Please? Yn? Please?" Charles replied, leaving the popcorn bucket and candy bag on the table. Jumping up and down while giving you the best puppy eyes.

Sighing, there was no other choice. You either play the game or get dragged into some new invented game – that would definitely took more time to explain than to participate.

“Yes…yes,” your eyes turned upside down at their enthusiasm, wiping the popcorn from Arthur’s mouth corner. Booping Arthur’s nose softly, “You are the seeker.”

“Awe,” the younger one slumped on the couch. Dramatically lifting his arms as high as he could.

“Ha! What about me?” Charles interjected, intertwining between your arms – between you and Arthur.

“Charlie–”

“Start counting Arth!” Charles said with a change of mind as he run away with his little legs from Arthur – you doing the same. With the only goal of finding a good spot, maybe you’ll get a little nap while Arthur tries to navigate the house.

—

Long enough, you finally heard a higher-pitched laughter followed by a slightly lower-pitched groan: letting you know that they got back together. Besides, the stumbling sounds enlightened you that they started looking through the kitchen, they opened the refrigerator, the pantry, the cabinets...

They ran everywhere, yelling and laughing. Sometimes just to hear the other one laughing too.

“Yn!” “Where are you!”

Little hands grabbing all the places they could grab, climbing on top of each other if they wanted – still looking around and getting into weird positions to look under the furniture.

Charles and Arthur started to get a little frustrated at not finding you, and this little bit of stress made them nervous, making all kind of noises.

"Where is she? Where is she?" Charles yelled, looking at his younger brother – his head getting a little redder from looking upside down under the cabinets.

"Maybe she is in the bathroom! Or maybe she ran out of the house?" Arthur replied, in a loud voice, getting into weird positions too.

"Maybe she went to papa’s room!" Charles replied, and both he and his younger brother ran their little ways up the stairs to check the adults' bedroom.

The room stood still as they pushed the door open. There was maman’s perfume on her side table, papa’s reading glasses on the other side, and something on the dresser – too tall for them to see. The two little boys searched every corner, they even checked under the bed, but there was no trace of your jeans hem or khaki sweater.

At that moment, they were starting to get hopeless, and they did what hopeless children do best: sniffling.

Little sniffles turned into hiccups, hiccups turned into cries. Arthur seeing his brother wiping his little eyes dry, he found himself slumping on the floor, mimicking Charles’s teary eyes.

“Oh, no– I’m here– awe, guys–”

Without wasting another minute, the boys ran to hug you – clinging and wiping their faces onto your sweater. You welcomed them with open arms, and little kiss for each one.

“We couldn’t find you!” Charles hiccuped out, faltered-heartily, while Arthur just nodded and mumbled something. Now, they were like a pair of puppies, begging for your attention.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you chuckled at the sight, rubbing and patting their backs.

“No funny!” Arthur hid is face in your chest.

The little boys remained in your arms, hugging tightly, like two pieces of dough. Tears resided into just stains and hiccups returned into sniffles.

“Alright– I’m sorry,” you nodded, making zipping motion while continuing rubbing their arms. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

Just maybe the fact that Charles slowly tear his face away from comfort, showing cheeky smiles…

“Can we have some ice cream?”

“Please? Please?" Arthur replied, with his head still down, hugging her with all his might.

“But you guys already had…” knowing they are a little faltered hearted at the incident – maybe using it to their little advantages. “fine. But no more–”

"Yay!!" they replied in excitement, jumping out of your arms, but keeping you close by. “Thank you Yn!”

Now more hopeful and happy, the little boys ran towards the kitchen without saying another word. They were now a duo in a mission for food, and to cause as much trouble as possible on their route…

I have a mark fic incoming…lmk if you guys are interested??😘😘

interact if y’all liked it, do what ever you want. Imma start writing fics again 💀

today’s a good day to take care of yourself!!

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holylulusworld · 6 months

Text

Indecent Proposal (5)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of former shitty boyfriends, the reader doesn’t take shit from anyone, sexy mobsters, slow burn (kinda), fluff, first date, a hint of making out, please don’t put your cat into a tux 😉

Indecent Proposal (4)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“8 pm, wear whatever you want,” you read the message coming along with the huge bouquet of roses out loud. “If you want to, you can wear the gift.”

You dip your head to glance at the box containing the most beautiful, and probably most expensive dress you ever saw. Sexy but classy, your mother would say.

They gifted you a rose solid one-shoulder cape bodycon dress. “It’s nice but…” You lick your lips.

Scott never put much effort into your dates. The only thing he ever bought for you was some ice cream. In the end, he ate it and you had to buy a new one.

“It’s really nice,” you dip your head to look at your cat. “What do you think, Alpine? Do you want mommy to wear the dress and get banged like never before or do we want to spend the night cuddling on the sofa?”

Alpine lifts his head, meows, and ignores you once again. He’s a lazy fluffy beast when you are alone. Your cat only ever got aggressive and loud when Scott was around.

“So…you want me to go and have some fun?” You question. “Come on, Alpine. I need your help to decide if it’s better to pack my shit and run or get whatever I desire from those sexy bastards.”

Alpine slowly gets up from the bed to walk toward the box with the dress. He steps inside with two paws, sniffing at the dress. “What?”

He meows loudly and jumps into the box to snuggle into the dress.

“Now that’s not nice of you! Alpine, you’ll ruin the dress. There will be hairs all over the dress, you sneaky bastard!”

You sigh and grab your phone. If you want to go out, you gotta tell them you cannot wear the dress.

“Hello doll,” Bucky immediately picks up the phone, taking you by surprise. You almost dropped the phone. “What can I do for you, pretty girl?”

“I-I can’t wear the dress, Mr. Barnes.”

“Why? Do you not like it? It’s the color, right?” Steve must’ve snatched the phone out of his husband’s hands. “I told Bucky so.”

“No…it’s nice…very nice….but Alpine just snuggled into the box and won’t let me grab the dress. He’s a bastard!”

“Let me handle this!” You hear a commotion, and then someone knocks at your door. “Doll! Y/N! It’s me Bucky. Lemme inside. I’ll take the bastard down.”

“What?” You walk a little faster when you hear his voice grow louder. “Mr. Barnes. What are you doing?” You scream as the door bursts open.

“Where is the bastard?” He rushes inside your apartment, gun aimed as you stumble back. “Where is he? Did he hurt you? Are you hurt?” Bucky looks you up and down while Steve follows him inside your apartment.

“No-no—” you stammer and point at your bedroom. “Please don’t shoot him. He’s an asshole but I like him.”

“I got it covered!” Bucky disappears inside your bedroom, and you worry he’ll shoot your cat. A heartbeat passes, and another until you hear him chuckle inside your bedroom.

“Please don’t shoot him!”

“Stevie, look at that little bastard!” Bucky walks out of the room, holding your cat in his arms. “The little furball snuggled into the dress I got for Y/N. I bet he smelled me on it. Look.”

You gasp as your cat rubs his head against Bucky’s chest. He purrs and allows Bucky to pat his head. “But…but he hates men.”

“Nah, he loves me,” Bucky ruffles Alpine’s fur. “Right buddy? You like your new daddy.”

“Buck, no!” Steve shakes his head. He already knows what his husband is about to say.

“Can we keep him? Let’s bring Y/N and the cat home,” Bucky hums as your cat jumps onto his shoulder. Alpine taps Bucky’s shoulder with his paws before getting comfortable. “Aw, look at the pretty boy.”

“You must excuse my husband,” Steve sighs again. “He just loves getting all the attention from pretty girls and boys.”

“As if you never tried to get some pretty guy’s attention,” Bucky grunts.

“Well, I got yours, didn’t I,” the blonde says. “I don’t have time for other boys. You give me a run for my money already.”

“Can we keep him?” Bucky pouts and points at your cat on his shoulder. “Doll, you wanna go home with us and take Alpine with you, right?”

“We were talking about a date,” you point out. They don’t need to know you imagined how it would be to live with them. “I can’t just move in with you. I got a job, and my cat…and all my stuff.”

Steve looks around your living room. “We can bring all your belongings to our home within three hours. No problem.”

You gape at them. ��What? When I tried to get a mover, they told me I’d get an appointment in four months!”

“Oh, baby doll,” Steve cups your face with both hands (much to his husband’s chagrin) and presses a soft kiss on your lips. “Your wish is our command. Name it and it will happen.”

“I-“ You're overwhelmed once again. No one ever put so much effort into winning you over. Scott simply invited you for dinner (which you had to pay for in the end). “I wanted to have dinner first and wear the dress.”

“Hmmm…” Bucky nods thoughtfully. “How about we order the food you love from any restaurant in town? We can eat within an hour.”

“Let me guess,” you roll your eyes at Steve, “you want me to have dinner with you at your home.”

“Bucky is not wrong,” Steve gets cocky and steals another kiss, eagerly suckling at your tongue. “We would have you all to ourselves and you’d have our full attention. We promised to behave too.”

“I don’t believe you,” you cup the back of Steve’s back and dominate the next kiss, “but you broke my door. I’ll have dinner with you at your home and spend the night at your home with Alpine until you repair my door.”

“Woohoo!” Bucky whistles. “We will get lucky soon, Steve.”

“No sex!” You tut. “I want more than one date. If you want to have children with me, I’m going to be a mom, and you are going to be fathers. We should know more about each other than the size of your dicks and how my pussy tastes.”

“Oh, fuck me, Stevie! She’s going to be the death of us…”

“How did you do this?” You step inside the dining room, gasping loudly as there are roses on the table, and candles lit. You can smell the food you ordered and the two of them wait for you, wearing tuxedos.

“Magic,” Bucky smirks as you glance at Alpine sitting on one of the chairs. “See, Alpine is wearing a tux too.”

“How’d you get the beast inside the tux?”

“I made a few calls while Bucky dressed the cat,” Steve walks toward you to pull the chair for you. “He’s a little giddy tonight. Bucky is pumped up from the incident earlier. He didn’t listen to your words and believed you were in danger.”

“How’d you come to my place so fast?” You sit down and watch the men take a seat next to you. Steve to your right, and Bucky to your left. “Wouldn’t it be better if we can look each other in the eyes while having dinner?”

“We were watching your apartment to make sure you’re safe and sound,” Bucky blurs out before Steve can come up with a lie. “We care for you, baby doll.”

“Did you stalk me?” You cock a brow. “Bucky?”

He’s busy playing with your cat and doesn't answer.

“We call it keeping you safe, Y/N,” Steve answers before his husband can mess the night up even more. “Our kind of business is dangerous. We fear that people already know that you are our girl. Scott couldn’t keep you safe, but we can.”

“I don’t know if you want to scare me,” you lean closer to Steve to look him deep in the eyes, “or make me wet before I have had dinner…”

Part 6

Tags in reblog.

#Indecent Proposal (5)#steve rogers #bucky barnes #mobster!steve rogers #mobster!bucky barnes #mafia au #stucky x reader #stucky x female reader #female reader

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bonesandchalamet · 1 year

Text

lessons in french- t.chalamet

pairings: timothee chalamet x reader

warnings: google translated French

a/n: first post on this account 😁 my main is @thatsdemko 🫶 feedback is always appreciated xx

“and how do I say ‘I love you’ again?”

“Je t'aime.” he says, mouth full of a buttery croissant you fetched from the bakery across the street. it’s your morning ritual, the boy who lives across town comes to your apartment and you get him “New Yorks finest croissants”— at least that’s how he puts it as.

your recent discovery was of his ability to speak a different language, French that is, and ever since you’ve been begging for lessons due to your upcoming trip to Europe. you could say New York public school systems failed you, as you barely remember a lick of the words he makes you repeat.

“and what about stop making a mess of my sofa.” you scowl brushing the pastry crumbs that scatter the cream colored seats. he mumbled a sorry as he finishes his last bite, a delighted moan escapes his lips.

“why the sudden interest in the language again?” he asks brushing his hands on his pants rather than using the crummy paper napkin that’s already wadded up and disintegrating from the butter of his hands.

“because I’m going to Europe in three weeks! I can’t look like an idiot.”

“certaines choses ne peuvent pas être changées.” he lightly giggles shaking his head watching your face scrunch up trying to dissect the sentence, but you fail. some things can’t be changed

you huff an annoyed sigh, arms crossed over your chest, “I wish I never bought you that croissant years ago.” you joke watching his acting skills come to life as he pretends to be hurt.

“now you’re just being straight up rude, amour.”

—

“so when a nice guy offers me a drink at the club what should I say?”

“J'ai un petit-ami.” the same buttery croissant fills his mouth, he watches you saunter across your tiny New York City living room. he admits, you not knowing any French is fun for him. it means he has all control of what you repeat back and what you write in your journal for the trip. this one might’ve just been the icing on the cake. I have a boyfriend

“J’ai un petit-ami? doesn’t that mean something else?” you question, head cocked to the side watching him shake his head in response as he swallows the pastry.

“nope.” he replies, reaching for the hot coffee you’ve provided him, he slurps the contents watching your pen move vigorously across the page. he thinks it’s cute how focused you are, he loves how close you hold the notebook to your face and how you spell out the words in a way only you will know what they mean.

“so are all French people assholes? I’ve been reading up on your people.”

he laughs, “my people?” he watches the red hue light your face, hands up in defense, “that’s what the internet says!”

he laughs once more telling you to never believe the internet, although he did play you into thinking the words “I have a boyfriend” mean something completely different, so maybe he is apart of that collective group.

—

“repeat it to me once more, amour.”

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” do you want to sleep with me tonight

he chuckles a little to himself trying to find a serious tone, “that’s exactly what you should say to the cab driver.”

you chuck an orange at him watching his hands go up in defense as he allows the fruit to hit him the arm, two of you laughing, “this isn’t funny, Timmy! I leave in twenty-four hours!”

he watches you collapse against the cream colored sofa beside him, legs extending into his lap, “how am I supposed to order croissants for you across the world?” you bat your eyelids in an affection way, it’s your last hope to get help— the pastry was already the key to his heart. it gets him to do anything.

“what a dilemma that is.” he shakes his head, fingers tangling through his curls that fall in front of his eyes, “just don’t forget your notebook and you’ll be fine. do you remember how to order?”

“un croissant š'il vous plaît.” a croissant please

“tu est parfaite.” you are perfect

—

his phone buzzes in his pocket, it hasn’t even been a full day since you landed in Paris and you’ve been buzzing him like a mad woman. it’s his first time being in your place alone, he’s in charge of watering your plants. he notices you’ve left him money for his croissants and an extra key in case he misplaces the one you already gave him.

“bonjour mon ami how is Paris?” he picks up the phone plopping down onto your cream colored sofa and pressing speaker so he can listen and eat.

“did you know j’ai un petit-ami is I have a boyfriend?! you lied to me!”

he laughs, the familiar sound spreads a smile on your face despite your angry tone, it’s nice to hear him. even if you’ve been texting him, his voice is what you miss right now, “I guess you’re right my people are assholes.”

“damn right, chalamet! and I learned a little something from the bartender last night, tu es un connard!” you are an asshole

“Je t'aime!”

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