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tacticaldiary · 10 months

Text

A Cracked And Fissured Door

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking."

It stings, if she's being honest. Being kept at an arms length when in public. Most people know about them, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.

Masterlist

"If he sends us out before next week I'm quitting." Soap groans, back cracking as he flops down forward on the bar. "Three ops in a week? What do I look like, a machine?"

Gaz snickers, raising his glass to that. "Bloody might well be at this point."

She hides a smile behind her own drink, leaning back into the bar. They had done three ops in a week, mission after mission after mission. It had been pretty rough, just as Soap said and she was more than ready to crash and burn and sleep for three days straight but abandoning their tradition of getting drinks at this specific bar everything Saturday was not something anyone on the 141 was willing to break.

"Just be glad we got the weekend off." Ghost says from beside her. She smiles warmly at him, is rewarded with a slightly blank look.

The flicker of her smile is hid behind another sip.

"Betcha your gonna take advantage of that, eh?" Soap nudges her, looking pointedly between her and Ghost. The latter rolls his eyes and says nothing.

"Only thing I'm looking forward to is an actual mattress." She knocks back the last of her drink and stands, shrugging Gaz's arm slung over her shoulder. "Speaking of which, I think it's about time we call it a night." Casting a glance at her boyfriend, who merely nods in confirmation and pushes the stool back himself, she nods at the others. "Don't cause too much trouble, boys. Text us when you're home safe, yeah?"

"We just got shot at for a week, don't think a car ride home is gonna be the end of us." Soap snorts.

"You never know." Is all she says before stepping out of the bar with Ghost, who offers her her coat to shrug on.

"Hell of a week." She comments, glancing at him gratefully as she shrugs on the warm fabric.

"Just glad it's over," Simon says simply.

Walking back to their car, she can't help but cast quiet glances at him as they walk. She knows Ghost notices them, chooses to keep looking ahead and keep the silence.

Truth be told, she aches to touch him.

Aches to feel his skin on hers, to feel the callouses of his hands brush against hers. His heat, ever all-encompassing makes her feel safe in a way no bulletproof vest ever could.

"Think I might ask Price to assign me desk duty for a while." She jokes, knocking their shoulders together gently.

To the untrained eye, to someone who might not have been tuned to what makes Simon Simon, it wouldn't have been noticeable, but he leans subtly away so they don't touch again.

She doesn't mention it, but it makes her heart heavy.

It's nothing new. She's not sure why she's even surprised anymore.

Trying again, her arm hangs beside her, purposefully brushing against his gloves. The frown on her face deepens when he shoves his hands into his pockets.

Maybe it's the exhausting week she's had, but it gets to her, infects her heart, mind, and soul with the insecurity she keeps locked behind a cracked and fissured door in her mind.

It stings, if she's being honest.

He's not the most...social person. Closed off and private, but baring her soul to someone she loves and getting so little in return...

Being kept at an arm's length when in public, even though their relationship is not a secret. Most people know, actually, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.

The car ride home is silent, but not in a comfortable way their quiet is usually shared. Simon seems to pick up on it, because he grips the steering wheel a little too hard, the tension in his shoulders a little too foreign.

Gaz had no problem touching her. A friendly punch to the arm, an arm around her shoulder. Soap was a touchy person by nature, nudging her and ruffling her hair.

So why was it that Simon always pulled away?

The one person who should love her the most, who should be proud of loving her...why does he pull away and pretend this thing between them doesn't exist.

She doesn't get it, hasn't understood for the past two years they've been together. Pushing was not something she'd considered given his stubbornness and private nature, but there's no denying she's always felt a twinge of hurt whenever he disregards her in public.

Was he...ashamed? Of her? Did he not want to be seen with her?

The thought latches itself onto her, sucking away the usual confidence she carries and leaving her a nervous mess. It makes her sick. Before she knows it they're back home but she can't find herself to walk any farther than the front door that's shut behind her.

He doesn't comment on it, just casts her an inquisitive look before moving to the kitchen in view.

Simon always did like a cup of tea before bed.

"Simon?" The word comes out a little garbled, caught in her indecision, and morphed into something muffled. He hears it, because of course he does, and hums. Doesn't look up from where he's rifling through the cupboards for his kettle.

The air is cold in her lungs, freezes up with nerves, and this is all so ridiculous. It's stupid and she shouldn't be feeling this way but she does because she just does.

Trust was a precious jewel, a diamond only given to those who trusted enough to keep it unmarred. Necklaces and earrings and bracelets, she feels like she could make millions of intricate pieces with the bits of trust she had bared for Simon to take and keep as his own.

Simon knows what she loves, what she hates, how she feels about anything and everything. The rhyme and reasons, the way she ticks, and what throws her off kilter. He knows it all, it's been given willingly and eagerly to the man who took her heart with that rough demeanour on the tarmac two years ago.

She had given him all her gems, the shiniest and the dullest ones, but he's never even been bothered to spare her a piece of coal.

When she doesn't speak immediately, he pauses his movements and sets down the kettle on the counter with a 'clink'. "What's the matter, love?" He straightens up.

"Do you want to be with me?" She blurts out, unable to fathom leaving this conversation for another day. Not when she's so worked up and hurt and feeling.

His face stays blank, and when he responds it's almost as if he's doing it carefully. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I asked." The sides of her coat are clutched with a knuckle-white grip, nausea making her an inch away from ruining the lovely carpet they'd picked out together when they'd first moved in.

Simon furrows his brows. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"That's not what I asked." Unease starts to curl up in her gut. "Do you like me, Simon?"

"Of course I fucking like you, what are you talking about?"

"You sure don't act like it."

There.

It's in the open now. Simon stares at her for a moment, shocked or stunned or whatever emotion that causes him to clam up for a moment.

He never really was good at this part of their relationship, but this...it was vital. It was important because she refuses to let this problem define what they have together.

"You don't touch me when we're not alone." She starts, "You act like I'm just no one when we're out together. You barely acknowledge me any more than anybody else, pull away when I try to touch you." It feels good to let this all off her chest. Months and months of trying to figure out what was going on. "Tell me why. I just want to know why."

"I'm a private person-"

"No Simon, that's not what this is." She shakes her head, emotion rising inside her. "You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking. Like I'm...like you want to keep me a secret."

Her eyes are glassy because saying it hurts so fucking much, but it needs to be said. It needs to be voiced, he needs to listen and acknowledge-

"You know that's not true, so it shouldn't be a bloody problem-"

"Do I?" A laugh burst out of her, unexpected and short. It's enough to cut him off, cause him to narrow his eyes. "You've never told or indicated that to me. Not once. Not in two years."

"It's common sense. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't want you." She can tell he's trying to stay level, to meet her in the middle but all caution gets thrown to the wind because is he really trying to argue with her on this?

"No, it's not." She insists, trying not to raise her voice as anger bubbles up inside her. Was he not getting it? Not understanding that this was hurting her? That he was hurting her? "Sometimes I-..." She swallows, "Sometimes I'll be having a great time, like today. I'll be laughing and enjoying myself and then I'll glance at you, or try and do something as simple as brush shoulders, and I'll watch you push me away. Or pull away." Her voice waver but she fights to keep it steady. "And it makes me feel miserable because what is it about me that makes my own boyfriend not want to accidentally touch me?"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" He says, hackles raised at being put on the spot like this. Ghost doesn't mean to, but this is all so new to him and the only thing he knows how to do in these rapidly changing situations is to be sharp and jagged and tense. "If you're so miserable, why are you still here?"

"Because I love you!" She cries out. "And I can't help but think that I might never get the same back from you." Her grip on her coat tightens.

There's a beat of silence.

"I never asked you to. You knew what you were getting yourself into."

His words cut through the quiet, as sharp as the blades he keeps strapped to his thigh.

"Oh, fuck you." She whispers. "Don't give me that bullshit. That's not an excuse for not trying-"

"Not trying?" His voice gets slightly louder. "I try every day. I try to be someone you deserve but you're bloody well making it difficult when-"

"Just stop!" She yells over him. "Stop. I'm not asking for something you can't give. I'm just asking for an explanation."

"I can't-"

"You can!" To her dismay, her eyes burn with tears that are bound to fall in a few seconds, but she's too far into it to turn around now. "It's been two fucking years, Simon. Two years. I've never pushed or pressured you, I've listened and sat here and tried to be the one you can come to, but you never do." She sniffles, wiping her tears away roughly.

He stays silent, visibly frustrated but letting her talk.

"Do you know what they say back at base?" She spits out. "About me? They say I've forced you into being with me." A hollow laugh. "That I've got some dirt on you that keeps you quiet, or that I'm just someone you pass the time at night with because everyone thinks that you want nothing to do with me during the day. They talk about why we're still together, why you're still with me when you clearly have no interest." Her tears are long forgotten, left to trail down her cheeks in rivers of hurt. "They say...they say I'm only on the 141 because of our relationship."

And that was what hurt the most. Her own skills undermined like that.

That startles him enough to pull his brows in confusion "I didn't know..."

"Of course you don't, why would they say it in front of the man who looks like he could snap their spines in half?"

She waits for him to speak. To say something, anything, but all he does is stare at her with those half-blank eyes that she can never decipher and it infuriates her because did he not just listen to what she's told him.

"You know what, forget it." She chokes out. "I'm done. I'm fucking done with this." She gestures to them both, vaguely watching his eyes widen with muted panic. Getting shoved into a woodchipper would be less painful than the hurt that tears through her chest, hiccupping on swallowed sobs.

"Hold on-"

"I can't be the only one keeping us both afloat." She reaches behind her for the doorknob. "I don't want that. I love you, Simon. I really do, but it hurts so fucking much when you act like I'm disposable, like you're ashamed of being seen with me."

The door is pulled open by her, and then roughly shoved shut by Simon. He moves quicker than she could register, behind the counter one moment and right in front of her the next. His hand stays firmly on the door, keeping it shut as he leans down to catch her gaze.

"Ashamed is the last thing I am about you." He says quickly, clumsily. "I-...fucking hell that's not right at all, love."

Simon is...he's panicking.

The thought strikes her immediately with the way his chest rises and falls quickly, the lack of that cold clipped grace in his voice.

"I don't care." She chokes on a cry, hands planting themselves firmly on his chest to shove him away. It's like nudging a brick wall. The man is immovable, standing in place with their bodies so close it feels like they're sharing heat. "I'm tired, and you're making it worse so let me go." He grabs her wrists, presses them against himself to keep her in place. His hands are warm, rid of the gloves he usually dons.

She's met with every inch of that scarred face of his. She hadn't noticed but he'd discarded his mask as he'd been rushing around the counter to get to her.

"Listen to me." He breathes, trying to get his thoughts straight and keep her there with him. He can't lose her, can't let her walk out the door because he's afraid that she might never come back. "Please."

It's the last word that pauses her struggle. Simon...he was someone who operated on orders and demands so the frantic and silent plea pushed into the word is enough to make her still for a moment.

And a moment is all he needs.

"I've never..." He thinks for a moment. Never has she seen him look so frazzled. He tries again. "Everyone I've ever loved has been killed." Her eyes widen at the declaration. "My family. My friends...everyone." His breath fans over her face with how he's leaned down, hot so very him. "I think I'm afraid if I show the world I love you it might try and take you from me too." Simon's voice breaks at the end, as if he's voiced something from his nightmares and despite the pain she's feeling the sound slices through her. "And I can't...I can't live with losing you too."

With bated breath, he waits for her to respond. Part of him can't bear to look her in the eyes after the admission but he finds himself staring at her face anyway, drinking in any sign of hope.

Hope. How long has it been since he's felt the warm rays of such a feeling?

Slowly, so slowly it makes his breath hitch, she tugs her hand free on his. For a moment Simon thinks she might push him away again and his heart sinks like a stone, but then her fingertips graze his face, her hands cup his cheeks and suddenly they interlock behind his head, pulling him in.

Simon crushes her into him, tucking her head under his chin with a shuddering breath of relief. He's not lost her, not completely.

Hope.

There was still such a thing for a man like him after all.

"I'm not going anywhere." She mumbles into the crook of his neck, the feeling of his lips moving on his skin sending a shiver up his spine. "I'm so sorry, Simon. If you'd told me that before I would have tried to help-..."

Simon shakes his head immediately, arms tightening around her. "I chose not to tell you. The thought of coming home and seeing you on the ground...bloody...like them." He swallows past the lump in his throat. "Fuck, I'm sorry I hurt you, sweetheart."

Simon didn't apologise often, so when he did that means he knows he's fucked up.

She does not tell him it's alright, that she forgives him or that he's fine. Because he's not. His apology, his honesty doesn't make the months of hurt go away. It still aches at her like before, but this time the ache has a meaning behind it. It has a reason.

They hold each other for a moment, against the door, two people knee-deep in a problem that's been brewing for weeks and weeks, bubbled over the edge in the ugliest way possible.

"I need you to try." She whispers after a moment, the barest of smiles gracing her face when he nods slowly.

"I know." He says simply against her hair. Gently swaying in each other's hold, both are content to stay there for a while, to calm their racing hearts with the knowledge that the other is still there, is real and solid under their hands.

And it's enough.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Change is a slow trek to an ever extending finish line.

Simon keeps his word. If there's anything it's good at, it's resilience. Though it makes him antsy and paranoid and dare he say slightly nervous to open such a part of him to somebody again, he tries.

He tried because he'd rather saw his own arm off than be the one who gives her a reason to leave. Not her. Not the best thing that's happened to him in years, the person who's managed to wake up Simon after years of being Ghost.

A subtle brush of hands as they walk.

An arm around her shoulder while they drink.

Thighs and sides pressed together as they take their seats on a heli.

The squeeze of her knee from under the table.

It builds and builds into something warm and new and fresh, a feeling that overshadows all the worry he had about the universe having a vendetta against him because if there was one good thing that Simon Riley wanted to keep, it was her.

Their weekend is filled with conversations, real conversations about things they've kept to themselves, worries and concerns, and moments of hesitance. He tries his best, though some words die on his tongue before he can get them out. She pushes him, but never more than he can take. Heart, body, and soul, she knows him like the back of her hand but he's the only one who can truly let her into his mind.

All that aside Simon also has another more personal task to work through once their weekend is over.

After paying some not-so-nice visits to more than a dozen people (to his absolute fury), she never once hears a peep of another disgusting rumour ever again.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(26/07/2023)

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moondirti · 2 months

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so.. simon and johnny stopping by a seedy 24/7 roadhouse on their way back home post-op

featuring: established ghostsoap. pregnant fem!reader. alluded kidnapping, extremely toxic attitudes. they’re literally delusional. mentioned death. this verges on dark so please beware!

They’ve driven past it about a hundred times, never having given it more than a passing glance. Who would, really? Nothing about it seemed appealing – in all its sun-bleached paint job and flickering neon signage glory – but circumstances lent themselves to its consideration. What was supposed to be a half-day mission ended up taking two, meaning they haven’t had time to sleep let alone eat. On top of that, a delayed exfil made it so they touched down on base at an ungodly hour. By the time Price waived their paperwork and they got into their car, they were famished.

“Could eat the scabby heid aff a dog,” Johnny eventually groans. He’d tried his best to hang in there, mindful not to be a pest during the hours it takes his partner to decompress after a rough operation, but his stomach kills and he knows Simon’s does too. He only receives a grunt for a response, though the man abruptly steers into the leftmost lane, catching the nearest exit towards the place in his periphery. Cleary meant to model an American diner with it’s fading blue exterior and obnoxious banner: The Dahlia

But they’ve been in worse. They hardly take note of the coffee rings staining their table, or the homeless man who’s taken residence in a corner booth (besides the brief once-over in their threat assessment upon entering). No; they just slot themselves by the nearest exit, scan over the menu and decide to order the quickest meal possible.

Only for things to take a sudden turn when their waitress stops by.

Christ alive, Johnny wonders how you manage to glow under the harshest of fluorescents. Dewy skin. Bright eyes, if not a little sunken at the late hour. Still, you smile and do so genuinely as you waddle to their station, clicking a pen before asking: “And what can I do you for, gentlemen?”

Simon doesn’t look at you immediately, not even when you speak up. He’s too fixed on Johnny, replaying the past days’ events in his head. Revisits the hour where their comms malfunctioned, when he lost touch with his boy and had to fight not knowing whether he was holding up okay. He has trust in him, of course, more bleedin’ trust than he has in earth to keep rotating. Still–

You clear your throat.

His pupils shift to pin you under their scrutiny, only he can’t bring it in him to be as severe as he wants to be. Because, while the first thing Johnny notices about you is your beauty, the first thing Simon sees is your bump.

Obscured by your apron, but still there. Round. Full. 6 months along, by the looks of it.

He’s forced to recall Beth, Tommy by extension. An old working knowledge that comes back to haunt him. At 23 weeks, his sister in law’s pregnancy began to weigh on her. Heartburn. Backaches. Hot flashes that resulted in bouts of dizziness. She couldn’t be up for more than 2 hours at a time, and yet here you are.

What the fuck were you doing in a place like this?

“Need more time to decide?” You ask. Patient. Lovely. If Johnny weren’t so sleep-deprived, so in over his head, he would perhaps realise the subtle hints you were dropping. They’ve been staring too long now, unsettling no doubt. Grimy, each with a tell-tale bump on their waistbands that point to their armament. Simon sans hard-shell mask, but still in a balaclava and eyeblack. Both larger than life and practically alone with you in this isolated place.

It’s Simon who speaks up first. “Fish and chips for the both of us. To-go. Cheers.”

You scribble the order down, pausing to consider. “Coffee? Gotta inform you, it’s drip, bottom of the carafe so it might taste burnt too. Hotplate’s all out of sorts.”

“Aye, just the one. Gae head an’ dip yer finger in it too. Might benefit from a little sweetener.” It takes you a second to process Johnny’s flirt. When you do, though, you visibly blanch, ducking your head to hide your face as you pretend to jot what he said down.

“I’ll have that right out for you.”

And then you scurry off, glancing over your shoulder once you think you’re out of sight. Curious. Flustered.

Simon’s attention refocuses on the scotsman once you’re gone, an eyebrow raised under his mask. His partner is able to read the expressed question well enough: what do you think you’re doing? Strict, but not so much angry as it a press for him to think before he speaks, to balance the scales before he asks something of Ghost that he can’t refuse.

“Dinnae look at me like tha’.” Johnny whispers. “Bonnie lass, isn’t she?”

Simon blinks. “Expecting, too.”

“We cannae leave her here.”

Memories occur in rapid succession. Tommy. Beth. The cherubic face they had brought into the world – little Joseph, who was the first he found dead upon returning home.

He considers Johnny, Soap, this force of nature that wormed his way into his life and sunk his teeth into the rot of his heart, fastened before Simon could even think of brushing him off.

“And here’s that coffee! Your meals should be coming out soon, thank you for being patient.”

It’s a bad idea. Horrible. You could have a partner, a cozy home waiting for you. Nursery already painted. Names already chosen.

What good partner would let you work this shitty job?

It’s a bad, horrible idea. No good for anyone. They’re on constant deployment. They risk their lives on every run. You’d be put in harm’s way yourself.

Not if they hide you well enough. Their house is secluded for a reason.

It’s a bad, horrible, no good idea – but Johnny accepts the mug with a gracious smile and you bloom all pretty, hand inadvertently cradling your belly. Little flower, persisting against all odds. Growing from the fissures of broken concrete. Dignified still. Kind. Strong.

So what if they pluck you from your place? They’ve got somewhere much better for you to thrive.

next part

#this was supposed to be a lil thing #oops #simon ‘ghost’ riley #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #ghostsoap x reader #ghoap x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader x johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x read #soap x reader #ghost x soap #x reader #x female reader #ghostsoap #ghoap #cod #call of duty

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eoieopda · 9 months

Text

tidal.

but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.”

pairing: vernon x afab!reader type: one-shot (fluff n’ smut) au: est. relationship wc: 4.8k rating: 18+ a/n: i didn’t plan this whatsoever, but i felt so weirdly compelled to write it that i avoided eye-contact with all of my wips, and now… here we are, lol. cw: pov switch, reader is afab + on their period, gender identity + pronouns aren’t designated, blood mention (obvi), unprotected p in v penetration (ill-advised!!), wee bit of dry-humping (ig?), a lil massage, pet names (baby, sweetheart), self-indulgent ref to a favorite docu of mine, and lastly — vernon (yes, this is a warning 🧍🏻) 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

Vernon isn’t blind.

He can see you out of the corner of his eye, laying flat on your back, several unexplained centimeters away from his side. With the duvet clenched in your fists, you stare intently up at the ceiling, like you’re waiting for it to move — or trying to move it yourself, telekinetically. You keep your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, as if you expect it to make a run for it.

So, yes, Vernon can see you.

He just can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.

For a few minutes, he attempts to pay attention to the documentary lighting up the screen on the wall ahead. You were the one that picked it — some wild tale about mother-daughter recluses in New York — and he finds it hard to give a shit about it without your usual commentary. Your hot takes are his favorite part of any movie night, after all.

He’ll be the first to admit that he’s never been good at keeping his eyes off you. Try as he might, he can’t glue his gaze to the television; each glance in your direction sticks longer than the one before it, testing the waters. Minutes slip away just like this until he completely caves, turns his head fully, and stares at you outright.

You still don’t seem to notice.

His brow scrunches up as he watches you, caught in the middle between concerned, confused, and amused by how absolutely ridiculous you look right now. When he speaks, he tries to sound stern, like he isn’t fighting the urge to laugh.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” is all he gets in response.

You don’t even look his way. If anything, you tense harder now that his attention is on you.

None of it makes sense. Not the weird gap you’ve left between your body and his, your total refusal to look him in the eye, or the fact that there wasn’t an argument to precipitate any of this distance. It’s a symptom with no apparent cause, and it’s totally baffling. Brain-breaking, even.

Frowning, Vernon scoots himself across the bed to get closer to you.

You don’t reciprocate.

He tugs gently at the hem of your sweatshirt in a silent plea for your attention and receives radio silence in response; unless he counts the way you swallow thickly.

Which, for the record, he does not.

This close, Vernon can feel the anxious energy pulsing out of your tensed-up body in waves, so he leans away and props himself up on his elbow. Desperate to know what broke you and how to fix it, he mutters, “What is happening right now?”

Ope.

It comes out harsher than it was supposed to, reading more like annoyance than worry, so he immediately clears his throat. Gently and with a brush of his knuckles against your hip bone, he tries again: “Are you okay? Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

A fly on the wall might get the wrong impression and think he stroked you with a live wire instead.

“Oh, my god. No!” You sputter with a jolt, shifting gears quickly from vaguely on-edge to horrified. You shake your head so frantically that Vernon fears you’ll detach it. “No, you haven’t done anything. I’m fine, I just —”

He interjects with a laugh, “— I don’t necessarily believe that —”

Visibly cringing with every muscle in your body, you cover your face with your hands. Not long after you take a deep breath does a meek voice slip out through your fingers, sounding beyond embarrassed.

“I’m so incomprehensibly horny right now that I can’t even look at you.”

For a second, it’s dead silent because he can’t quite process how much of a weirdo you are, or how completely and hopelessly enamored he is with you. But then the dam breaks. His laugh comes out so forcefully that you pull your hands away from your face, eyes wide.

“Is that so?” He smirks, nodding his head towards the television. “Grey Gardens really gets your motor running, huh?”

Absolutely aghast, you swat at his bicep. Then, you sling your arm over your eyes and groan, “I got my period. It has turned me into a sex-crazed monster, I fear.”

Vernon nods in understanding, even though you can’t see it, and hums, “Ahh.”

And he leaves it at that, only because you seem to have more that you want to say. Something you want to ask, maybe, or a reason you may want to give for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity. He’s down, he thinks without hesitation, so long as you are.

But you don’t say anything.

Maybe you aren’t actually down after all, and that’s why you won’t look at him. Shit, are you embarrassed? Should I say something? Silence falls overtop like a weighted blanket, smothering the two idiots who can’t tell whose turn it is to talk.

Do you or do you not want this right now?

You mumble something that he can’t catch, so he nudges your side gently with his knuckles to encourage you. Just as nervous, you repeat yourself without looking at him, “Period sex is supposed to help with cramps, I think.”

He thinks he’s read the exact same article you have. More than that, he wishes you’d look over at him and see for yourself how completely unbothered he is by this concept.

“If you think about it, it’s kind of like a natural lubricant,” you add in a voice that’s even smaller than before.

Your shyness really might kill him, so he reaches over to grab your hand and gently pull your arm away from your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since you laid down — since you put your self-imposed no-contact order in place — and he feels his stupid heart swell.

For what it’s worth, he feels his dick twitch, too.

You open your mouth to speak again, likely to continue your unnecessary campaigning; Vernon is having none of it. He tugs your wrist just enough to tilt you inward, then he kisses you hard enough to shut you up. A tiny whimper slips out of your lips when he pulls away, and it almost makes him regret his decision to do so.

But Vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “I don’t need a sales pitch. You will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, like this is somehow news to you. It shouldn’t be. He’s told you a thousand times in as many different ways how thoroughly crazy you drive him just by existing so closely to him, but maybe you didn’t take him seriously then.

To emphasize his point, he slips his hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and finds your bare waist with the pad of his thumb. It spirals slowly against your warm skin, making both of you dizzy. Then, sick of the distance, Vernon dips his head down to press a kiss to your temple.

“Like, ever,” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your jaw.

Soft, slow kisses trail behind him as he travels down to your lips. Your head tilts further backwards with every single one, providing him with more and more access.

He states it matter-of-factly because, to him, it is. “I’m down so bad for you that it might be terminal.”

“Oh?”

You try to laugh but turn to putty when his palm rests fully on the curve of your waist and pulls you flush against him. The surprised gasp you let loose confirms his suspicion: You can feel how serious he is, affirmation throbbing against your abdomen in time with his heartbeat.

Vernon smirks to himself, relishing your reaction, and bypasses your mouth entirely. A moan escapes from you, soft like an exhale, as his lips move slowly down the length of your neck. Every so often — just to feel you shiver — he flicks the tip of his tongue along the delicate skin he finds there.

“It might be messy…”

The rest of your needless warning gets lost in a dreamy sigh as he suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Shifting even closer, your desperate fingers reach out and cling to his t-shirt.

Vernon licks a stripe over the galaxy blooming on your skin. He hums, hand traveling upwards from your waist, “Don’t care about a mess.”

And he means it.

Mindful of any soreness, he smooths his hand over your left breast and massages it tenderly, swearing to himself that he’ll throw the whole fucking mattress out if that’s what it comes down to. For you, he’ll race across town on foot to buy another one, and — fuck it — if the store is closed, he might just break in.

You’re growing impatient; your fingers let go of his shirt and tangle themselves in his hair.

“So needy,” he chuckles low in his chest, teasing. “You know, I think you’re lying. I think it is this bat-shit insane documentary that’s driving you wild, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Stop,” you whine, dragging out the vowel sound.

You don’t, though; you throw your left leg over his right thigh and shimmy forward until your cunt grazes his dick. Involuntarily, he groans at the warmth radiating off your core. Every part of you drives him just the slightest bit insane. You seem to know it, he thinks as he watches your pupils dilate in real time.

But he can play games, too, so he rolls his hips forward and grinds against you. He pushes you further, “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I’m not kink-shaming you —”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe!”

Oh, shit. Government name?

“— I’m just a little surprised, I guess.” He sighs with a shrug. “Think you know somebody…”

Your impatience is scribbled all across your scrunched up face. It seeps into your voice when you crash back against the pillows and huff, “Can you please stop fucking with me and start fucking me?”

“Sex-crazed monster, huh?” Leaning over, Vernon punctuates his question with a quick press of his lips to yours.

You whimper, “I’m so serious. I might explode.”

“Then go take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He kisses you again, smiling so fondly that his eyes may even be twinkling. “And I’ll go get a towel.”

You wait until Vernon clears the threshold before launching yourself out of bed at breakneck speed. Stumbling all the while, you race off to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind you. When it clatters against the frame, you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit eager.

Maybe.

Opting to keep your baggy, bleach-stained sweatshirt on, you wiggle out of your shorts and — what he refers to as — your crisis diaper. The high-waisted, frumpy, beige panties are utilized exclusively during your period, and to your surprise, they’ve remained spotless. It’s only ever the pretty and expensive pairs that wind up as collateral damage, isn’t it?

As they pool around your ankles, you can’t help but think that Vernon’s nickname for them is pretty spot on. That’s partly why you figured he might need to be talked into this. Unsated arousal aside, you feel as far from sexy as you can possibly get.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, kick what you’ve discarded into a pile near the hamper, and let your sweatshirt shift down to cover as much of your ass as it’s capable of managing. You grab a square of toilet paper; then, you go to work excavating the wad of cotton that separates you from everything you want in this life.

It is within the realm of possibility that you’re a little bit eager and a little bit dramatic.

Perhaps.

After discarding the evidence in the small trash can under the sink, you wash your hands as if you’re about to step into an operating theater and not the bedroom you spend half your life in. When you finally feel sterile, you lift your head and catch your reflection in the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with the painful, hormonal pimple on your chin — the one you’ve been waging a retinoid war against for days.

“Bitch,” you mutter, like calling it names will be the one thing that finally gets it to shrink. Of course, your plan doesn’t work, but you feel a little less powerless. That’s good enough, you think. At least, as good as it’s going to get.

Now half-naked and certifiably unobstructed, you tiptoe back to your bedroom much more carefully than you left it. Vernon enters from the opposite doorway at the same time, jumping slightly the second he notices you. You ignore his frightened eyes and glance down at the crisp, white towel he’s clutching.

You open your mouth to suggest anything otherwise, but he beats you to it. His eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his mouth widens outwards, a self-aware rectangle. Otherwise expressionless, he lets go of an atonal, “Aaaaaaah”, that tells you he’s caught on.

He says nothing else before turning around and walking back the way he came. You have to bite down on your lips to keep from cackling.

That one’s mine, you think, still as infatuated as you were at the start. I chose that one.

While he’s gone, you try not to move, not to breathe too heavily. Vernon said he didn’t care about a mess, but when he said it, he was speaking theoretically with his hand on your tit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken recklessly with your body melting under his touch.

As far as you know, he hasn’t had any experience with this mess in practice. He could wind up finding you about as sexy as you currently feel — to wit: not at all. So, erring on the side of caution, you turn yourself into a statue and wait for the boy and his towel to find you again.

When he comes back, he plants a drive-by kiss on your unsuspecting mouth before skirting right around you. With shocking finesse, he grabs the corners of the — thankfully — black towel, which unfurls in the seconds before he flicks it upwards. It lands perfectly in the center of the bed, flat without needing to be fussed with.

“Wow,” he mutters to himself, taking in his clean work with raised eyebrows.

The impressed look is still on his face when he turns around, but you don’t have time to comment on his feat because he laughs as soon as he sees you.

“Kinda look like Donald Duck with the whole top-on, bottom-off situation.”

I chose this one?

You pout with an indignant gasp, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not wearing a sailor hat, so…. bad analogy. Rude, even.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You stumble a little on your way into him; the jury’s still out about whether it’s his hushed tone or the sudden movement that trips you up.

Between his thumb and index finger, he gently captures your chin. You follow along with his unspoken direction, tilt your face up to meet his. This close, you can see your own reflection in his pupils, black dilating against the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

Vernon takes a moment of silence as he takes in your features, and he studies them so intently that his eyebrows crinkle on their own. He sighs, sounding so completely serious. “You might get prettier every time I look at you.”

It’s unclear if you’re melting, or gushing; and if it’s the latter, you can’t say which biological process is at fault. Thankfully, the hand at the small of your back keeps your weak knees from buckling when his lips brush over yours.

“Even if you’re dressed like Winnie the Pooh.”

You feel him smirk even before you hear him laugh at his own joke. Then, you feel his hand slide down to cup your bare cheek, squeezing affectionately. You want to tell him that this analogy is still inaccurate because you’re not wearing a crop-top; but he gently instructs you to ditch the sweatshirt and get on the bed, and your body moves automatically. No questions asked.

Carefully, you crawl up onto the mattress, then you center yourself on the towel. Still on your knees, you tilt your head curiously and ask, “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere,” he breezes, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the dresser nearby. He amends, “Everywhere. All the time, and then some.”

“Better be careful,” you tease. “Talking like that might have consequences. You may never be able to get rid of me.”

His joggers are the next to go. Your sanity follows shortly thereafter, hungry eyes lingering on the imprint of his cock underneath his boxer briefs. You have to clamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.

Brown eyes sparkling, he steps closer to you, kicking his pants aside as he goes. “Be careful,” he echoes, not a hint of cockiness to be found — just softness. “Saying it like a threat doesn’t make me wish it’s not a promise.”

I choose this one.

Crossing all the way to you, Vernon reaches the bed and climbs up with significantly more grace than you did. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels right in front of you, mirroring your posture and causing your stomach to flip with anticipation.

You can’t help yourself; you lick your lips and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Naked, please. Like, right now.”

“Damn, I gotta do this myself?” Incredulous, he holds his hands up while glancing pointedly down at his underwear, then back at you.

You arch an eyebrow, unfazed.

“Depends.” You shrug. “Do you want to keep them? Because I really will rip them off of you.”

He concedes quickly; he always does. Sighing, he shakes his head and tuts, “Sex-crazed monster,” before pushing his briefs down his thighs. His length hangs heavy between you, but you swear you can feel its perfect ache inside you already.

You have a one-track mind, so you don’t hesitate to reach out and wrap your hand around him. A groan crawls up from the bottom of your chest when you feel the weighted warmth of his cock in your palm. You don’t hold that back, either.

“Fuck,” he sighs, head tilting as far backwards as it’ll go. Unexpectedly, he laughs. He doesn’t catch the quizzical look you shoot him, though he explains himself anyway, “Your hands are so fucking cold, but it feels so good.”

Swiping your thumb over his tip, you spread the pre-cum you find there down his shaft and stroke him slowly. He grows harder with every gentle squeeze, every pass of your fist.

“We’re learning a lot of new shit about each other today.” You lean forward to pepper kisses across his collarbones. The hum of your mouth against his skin when you talk makes his cock twitch in your hand. “You might have a temperature kink and a thing for Winnie the Pooh.”

He snorts, nowhere near serious, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me,” you counter smugly, and you do mean it.

Vernon tilts his head forward to stare back at you. You’re already turning into a puddle, but if the look he gives you says anything, it’s that your melting isn’t enough for him. His voice is low and velvet-lined when he responds, “How about I just make you cum instead?”

“That could work, yeah.” You shrug.

He runs the pads of his fingers down each side of your waist to your hips, then back again; and each time he does it, you shiver. Reflexively, your back arches, chest pressing against his.

At this, he smirks, “It could? Maybe?”

“We can workshop it.”

“Or,” Vernon so generously offers, “You can turn around and lay down on your stomach. You know, if that’s sufficient.”

It’s not until you whip around and flop down onto the towel that you realize you never responded with words. Oh well. You figure he gets the point, judging by the quiet laughter you hear as he settles with his knees on either side of your upper thighs.

You don’t know what his next move will be — you don’t care, either, as long as he moves in your direction — so you don’t anticipate his palms flattening against your bare back, applying perfect pressure with his thumbs while he rubs away the soreness at the very base of your torso.

“Oh, shit,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the heels of his hands work out the tension in your muscles. “Have you always been good at this?”

You feel his chest brush against your shoulder blades when he hovers over you. Against the nape of your neck, he murmurs, “Nope.”

He kisses down your spine, mouth trailing after his hands as they work their way back down your body.

“Lemme guess — you read an article? Studied up?”

You get a snicker, then an affirmative hum, then another kiss. This time, it’s at the curve of your spine, just above your ass. Seconds later, he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your cheeks until your whole fucking body tingles.

That’s when it hits you:

Under normal circumstances, Vernon would be face-first in your pussy by now. Devouring you in earnest, like he’s starving. He can’t do that now — and you don’t blame him — so he’s making up for what you both view as a loss.

God, you want him.

One hand disappears from you, but you don’t have to guess where it went. You can hear the barely-there hiss of breath through his teeth when he takes his cock in that hand; as well as the very faint shift of his palm while he pumps himself.

“You’re gonna have to navigate, baby. I dunno how sensitive you are like this, what’s too much — any of that, so you need to tell me how you want me to move.”

Suddenly dizzy over how badly you need him, all you can muster is a nod. Vernon must want a verbal acknowledgment, though, because he leans back over you with one hand bearing his weight beside your head.

He kisses your shoulder and urges you, “Please say so if you need to stop or switch it up. Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“I will,” you breathe. “But I can’t even articulate how much I need you inside of me right now, so please — pretty please — fuck me.”

The tip of his nose bumps your temple affectionately. Right beside your ear, he teases, “With a cherry on top?” And it vibrates down your whole goddamn spine.

“Vernon!” You whine, burying your face in the comforter. It’s muffled, but you warn him nonetheless, “Don’t make me come back there.”

“Aish. Calm down, sex monster.”

The instinct to twist around and glare at him over your shoulder is strong, but every feral urge you feel is stronger. So, when he tells you to spread yourself open for him and tilt your hips back, you do so without even a hint of complaining.

With the crown of his cock slipping through your folds, inching towards your entrance, you hear him curse under his breath. Suddenly self-conscious, you finally crane your neck to the side and glance back at him.

“We don’t have to,” you whisper. “If it’s gross and you don’t want to anymore, I get it —”

He balks at your suggestion without letting so much as a beat pass. “None of that, sweetheart; no spiraling. I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of, like… how to survive how good this already feels.”

Struck dumb, all you can muster is a peep, “Oh?”

“Shit, yeah.” His response comes in a low groan. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

It’s a good call on his part, a suggestion you’re glad to have taken, because the pressure of him entering you is intense enough to knock the wind out of you. Empty lungs likely would’ve led to your untimely demise.

You whimper, already overwhelmed with the combination of pain and pleasure; the best kind of ache. The little, breathy moans must freak him out, however, because his fingertips caress your waist as he checks in: “This okay?”

Your limp arm lifts off the mattress, which you’ve melted fully into, and you form a circle with your index finger and thumb to indicate that you’re okay. The light is bright fucking green; you’ve just maxed out your capacity for speech.

Vernon continues his slow thrust forward, giving you ample time to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god,” he grunts, “This is — shit, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. If I knew how good you’d feel like this, I wouldn’t have waited around for you to ask me.”

That hits like a truck.

He was waiting on you.

You spent months convincing yourself that he’d need to be convinced, and chickening out before you could raise the idea. Months, and months, and months, of craving him during your werewolf transformation; wasting away over a shitty assumption that Vernon is anything like the people you’ve been with before.

Christ.

His credit for putting up with you is long overdue.

Too tongue-tied to speak any of that out loud, you settle for a summary that you hope conveys the message: “I love you so fucking much.”

Mindful of how deep it will push him into your cunt, he leans down over you carefully. Weight balanced on his knees and forearms, he envelopes you in his body heat, trails kisses across your shoulder, and echoes your words back at you between each one.

“Is this too much?” He whispers, rolling his hips slowly.

You feel him everywhere, with every drag of his cock along your walls; and you can’t tell where that throbbing sensation is coming from, him or you.

You shake your head and sigh, “‘s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Like he knows it’ll unravel you, his large hand comes to rest over the back of yours. His fingers slip through the spaces between and squeeze you much more gently than the vice grip you hold on the bedding below you. He keeps holding you — just like this — through every movement.

The sensation of being this surrounded, this loved, this whole crashes over you like a wave and knocks you off balance.

“I’m so close,” you pant, voice as ragged as your breathing. There’s nothing that he isn’t already giving you with every deep, deliberate thrust into your heat; but you beg nonetheless, “Please, please, please —”

His speed doesn’t increase, but the intensity does. The smack of his hips colliding with your ass does, too, and you feel it reverberating in your bones. Buried as far inside of you as he can be, cock tip kissing your cervix with every high tide, length rolling across your g-spot with every low.

You cum so hard — so completely, invoking every single muscle you have — that you forget how to breathe. With a choked-out gasp, you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm devastate you.

“Fuck!”

Vernon gets caught up in the current, too, grinding desperately against you until he’s swept up in your wake. You feel him twitch inside you as his release floods, leaving you so lost in his warmth that you feel boneless underneath him.

His face winds up hidden in the crook of your neck, somewhere amidst the baby hairs that cling to the sheen of your sweat. You feel his lips fluttering against your skin when he laughs, “Oh…my god.”

“Mmphf.” You nod weakly in agreement. Beyond blissed, your body still tingles too much to move.

Slurring, you add, “‘s good. ‘s really…”

The rest of that thought dissolves into something between a moan and a yawn.

Just as tired, Vernon pats your ass cheek affectionately and mumbles, “Well said. No notes.”

You tilt your head far enough to free your face from the sheets. When you do, you find your boyfriend fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. In the rare seconds he can, he looks back at you in a daze that seems even more adoring than it does fuck-drunk.

“I think I need to hibernate now,” you announce. “Think you just fucked me so well that I need to take a sabbatical.”

He counter-offers, “Shower first, then sabbatical?”

You wiggle so that you can pull your joint hands to your mouth. You can’t kiss him properly while he’s laid out on top of you, but you can press your lips to the back of his hand and hope he feels how much of you that you pour into it.

“Okay, but, like…. who’s carrying who?”

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chuuyasheaven · 5 months

Text

♤ Touch me like I'm yours, baby. ♤

Tags: Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, passionate sex, pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby, "baby" for Chuuya), praising, fingering, slight teasing, overstimulation?, slight degrading (being called "slutty/slut"), ooc! Chuuya?, handsy! Chuuya?, smudged makeup, car sex, pw/op, might contain grammar errors, rushed?, etc.

Notes: I RECENTLY STARTED JJK !! (currently on s1 ep2 ) ^_^

You got all pretty for him, just putting on some lipstick to seem cuter. Why? Because you both went out that night, just the both of you, driving around during night. All plans made by Chuuya, what really wasn't planed was you on his lap smudging some of your lipstick and staining his lips slightly. So yes, the both of you were making out in his car, which the neither of you complained about actually.

With your eyes closed, you felt his hands roaming around your waist, kinda pulling you closer. Your back slightly arched, just a little, you opened your eyes to see that Chuuya's lips now had a slight red tint now. The sight made you giggle to yourself quietly as you lowered your kisses down to his neck. "What's so funny, baby?", Chuuya asked pointing out your slient giggles. "Nothing, but red lipstick would suit you.", he just exposed his neck slightly further for better access while scoffing to himself. "Thanks, I guess,", he said before his breathing slowly got heavier, mainly because he was quite sensitive on some parts of his neck.

Now that his neck was covered in faint lipstick you lifted your head again. "What now?", you asked curiously, Chuuya let his hand wander to your thigh. His other free hand made it's way to the car's radio to let music play, which was connected to his playlist. Music started to play, Streets by Doja Cat to be exact, his fingers sneaked themselves to your inner thighs. He smirked at you, Chuuya's smirk and fingers got you feeling something only he could make you feel. "How about I make you feel good, doll?", without giving you time to answer, his fingers were suddenly resting on your lips, you knew what he wanted you to do.

Your lips parted a little, he shoved his finger in a little, until your teeth bit down gentle but firm enough for him to pull his glove off. "Good girl.", Chuuya's ungloved hand made it's way back down to your inner thighs, now his fingers pushed your panties to the side and entered your cunt. You whimpered quietly to yourself, his fingers never disappointed you. Since there was music playing in the background, he just made use of that by hitting your best spots by each beat. Oh God, this was the most dangerous combo known to mankind, two minutes into the song and he already had you see stars. By this time your chest was against his while Chuuya took his time making you feel good. "Ngh— Chuuya. .", he looked you into your eyes. "Feels good, sweetheart?", you nodded, your cheeks flushed.

Another five minutes after a different song started playing, you came around his fingers. Chuuya pulled them out and licked them clean, making you wet again. "I. . I want more, baby, p–please.", you asked rather pathetically, but you're his princess, why should he deny you? "More? Does my slutty little girl want more?", he teasingly asked. "You want me to fuck you, doll?", he repeatedly asked while unbuckling his belt, looking you in the eye while doing so. "Why don't you fuck yourself on it, hm? Make us both feel good, just like the good girl you are,", Chuuya held his dick in his hand, while he made you his suggestion he was obviously rubbing himself. ". . F–fine.", you agreed, as if you didn't do this multiple times before!

You gently grabbed his dick, Chuuya pushed your panties to the side again to make it easier for you. When you slowly sunk down on him, it took a lot of self-restraint to not moan out loud. He waited for you to adjust, that's when Chuuya noticed the song currently playing, Naughty Girl by Beyoncé. Without really noticing, he felt you moving, finally. Yes, he did let a surprise moan slip but that was it! You didn't pay attention to it anyway, all what mattered to you was to make you both feel good. Moans and whimpers left your mouth, skin clapping filling the car and the windows now slowly starting to fog up. Could it not get any better? "Keep being such a good slut for me, baby, fuck. .", Chuuya cursed to himself, his head now thrown back. "S–sensitive. . ah!", you moaned, of course you were, with the way he handled you earlier?! But anyway, to at least be a little helpful, Chuuya grabbed your hips to guide you riding.

It was getting close, both of your orgasms now nearing. "So pretty,", Chuuya said, another song which was playing in the background was recognized by him again, Do I wanna know? by Artic Monkeys, making everything better. God, he really should let music play more often. "You sound even better than the song, sweetheart. Keep making this noise for me,", the pleasure got more intense by each bounce, the sweet release not far away. Chuuya let one low grunt out, he was twitching lightly inside you which made you feel even better. Then there it was, before you knew it, your back arched and you gushed around him meanwhile he busted his load inside you.

"Oh shit, let's hope the seats don't get stained. ."

Yeah I finished this at 1am bro..

@heluvaku (don't mind this I js wanted to get a second opinion lol)

#chuuya'sheaven ♡#chuuya smut #chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara

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saiidahyunie · 5 months

Text

standing next to you

hirai momo x bodyguard!reader

synopsis: out of all the pairs of hands and eyes that momo had on her, it was yours that she wanted. better hope that you don’t get fired from your assignment after this.

wc: 5.2k

warnings: smut!!!!, cursing, mentions of bruises, violence, bondage, bottom momo, top reader, reader has tattoos ; i think that's it loll

prequel of "don't go insane" (read this first tho ofc)

⋆｡ ˚༘ ♫: standing next to you by jk

a/n: the things that i would do if i was stuck locked in a room with momo....

—

there are three rules that a bodyguard must follow:

rule #1. never let her out of your sight

rule #2. never stray far from her

rule #3. never fall in love with her.

but you broke rule #3, and with good reason; how could you not fall in love?

especially if the person you were assigned to was hirai momo.

—

your agency had a reputation for being the best in the business when it came to protecting well known individuals for numerous occasions.

the event for today was supposed to be a complete cake walk with momo, who was a dancer, rapper, model, social media influencer, and cultural icon that has gained a massive following in the past three years. this led to her getting multiple collaborations from high-profile brands that bumped up their business stock by 300% if her picture was in the store, on the billboard, or wherever there was a place for people to take notice.

so what exactly went wrong?

your boss and momo’s manager arranged for her to make an appearance at a pop up event for the clothing brand chrome hearts in new york city, followed by free time since it was her day off on her solo tour before leaving for chicago tomorrow.

things went smoothly when arriving at the store as the small team you led knew the routine of ensuring momo’s safety as you guided her into the store while she waved at the numerous fans who were waiting to enter. the pop up experience was pretty enjoyable with the numerous jackets, pants, and jewelry that was on display as it was also the kind of clothing you would wear casually outside of your suit, so you leisurely browsed while momo was doing a photo-op.

“how’s everything so far?” your boss nayeon chirps in your left ear-piece as you pick it up with your two left fingers.

“very smoothly.” you reply back as you step aside from the loud music and small crowd in the store to pick up nayeon’s voice a little better, “we’re right on schedule.”

“good! that’s what i like to hear.” she beams on the other end, “you and the others are already getting a bonus for picking this up last minute so i wanted to say thank you again.”

“no need to say thanks ma’am, it’s just what we do.”

nayeon laughs at your statement, “you’re always so reliable y/n. ever thought about taking a vacation?”

“maybe once we’re done with the tour i’ll take your offer into consideration.”

“what would i do without you being team leader?”

“just say that you’ll miss me when that vacation comes.”

“you won’t hear it from me.” nayeon replies back as you lightly laugh at the back and forth banter you and her shared, catching momo’s manager yoona approaching you from the corner of your eye.

“is it time already?” you ask yoona as you point to the watch on your left hand.

“we’re all done over here, momo’s just looking at a few more things before we go.”

“do we have to carry anything?”

“no, no, not this time.” yoona replies, chuckling at your question as she fondly remembers you helping her carry a handful of bags the last time she had a free day to go on a shopping spree.

“good to know, i’ll rally the others.” you say as you follow her out to the store again.

you make eye contact with karina, who was your no.2, standing next to the doorway, signaling to her that it was time to go. no words said as she looks to her right to mingyu, the third person apart of the team as he instantly got the message making his way over to you and karina.

“where’s the new guy?” you ask mingyu as karina immediately touches her earpiece to see if there was anything on the open channel.

you all look in the direction to where you hear the sound of rushed footsteps as the fourth guy stood in front of you, his suit looking disorderly with his hair slightly messy, his ear piece hanging off his suit.

“there’s our answer.” karina says with a bitter tone as mingyu facepalms at the new guy’s stunt he just pulled. you balled your fists as the blood within you boiled at what you just witnessed as you saw one of the store workers walk out soon after, freshening up her appearance that only indicated one thing.

“for fucks sake heechul, you’re leaving your post again on the job!?”

heechul flinches at your pressing question, he knew that you were pissed.

“y/n, i-”

“i leave you to stay close to momo for ten minutes and i see you getting frisky with the store workers? do i need to remind you why you got stuck with me after the shit you pulled the last time?”

“i’m sorry-”

“no, don’t even say that you’re sorry. i don’t know why nayeon convinced me to have you with us when it’s clearly shown you can’t even do the simple task of standing still for momo’s safety! what a fucking joke, i’m done saving your ass. we’re gonna have a discussion about this later when we get back to the hotel.”

heechul keeps his mouth closed as you turn away to find yoona, groaning out in frustration as mingyu and karina’s voices fade out from the loud music.

“what happened with heechul’s last assignment?” you hear mingyu ask karina, “from what i heard, heechul got into a heated altercation with namjoon and yoongi at an afterparty. and since then, heechul might be on the chopping block if he doesn’t clean up his act fast.”

scanning around the store to catch yoona and momo at the register, you walk up to the pair as they are about to finish their transaction as momo’s clothes are put in the bag.

“so you did buy something after all.” you say to momo as she handed her wallet to yoona. “can’t leave here empty handed.” momo subtly says as you exchange smiles with her.

“everything okay over there?” yoona asks you, “sounded like you were almost yelling at your team.”

“yeah, sorry, the new guy is still getting used to his new role. just had to straighten him out for a second.”

“must be a pain dealing with all that.”

“all part of the job.” you reply back as yoona starts to make her way to the front of the store. momo follows right after but stops at you for a second as you walked down.

“you know, i find it attractive when a woman puts a man in their place.” momo says coyly. you shake your head at the dashing compliment you received.

“you and i think alike, we both hate the same guy.” you respond calmly, biting the inside of your cheek as you try to calm yourself.

momo giggles at your little nuance on your face, “when we first met up with you guys, i could already tell that he was bad news.”

you scoffed, “funny, people called me crazy for bringing him with us in the hopes of setting him right and look what he pulls.”

a laugh is shared between the two of you as you reach the door facing toward the street. you glance over at karina and mingyu who took their respective positions on your right and left side, peering over behind you to see heechul fix up his tie before giving you the thumbs up.

“alright momo if you wanna stand outside the store for a bit to meet your fans or even sign a few things, we’ll give you the window to do so.” you say as momo puts on her hood and sunglasses, beaming a smile as she nodded at you. your heart accelerated at the cool beauty that was in front of you as the doors swung open, motioning momo to walk forward as the crowd erupted in excitement.

a lot of people came for this pop up event, the sea of people stretching on both sides of the sidewalk in the soho district as you and your team walked out with your client, scanning the area actively to ensure nothing was out of the ordinary. you then walked up to the back door of the escalade, opening it ready for momo as she took a quick video of the crowd turnout before she went on both sides signing her autograph on different items.

the popularity of this girl was insane, and the power she held left you captivated as she looked like she was enjoying the moment.

that would all change when you saw heechul get up close to one of the people in the crowd against the barrier–arguing as the last thing you saw was his fist flying.

an instant second that caused chaos.

a few more punches were exchanged as the security guards in the store swooped in to stop the fight, peeling heechul away as mingyu grabbed on to him, holding him back before he could do any more damage, but it was too late.

the front row of the crowd was put into a frenzy as the barrier in the back corner toppled over, pooling a few people including the person that heechul punched–making a dead beeline for him, while that was happening behind, you locked on momo and yoona were caught right in the middle of all the action.

shit.

in an instant, you bolted for momo and yoona, shielding them from the pool of people as they surrounded you, karina also came just in time to make a path from the sidewalk to the car. mingyu also followed suit, dragging heechul by the collar of his suit as they made their way to the second escalade parked behind you. guiding momo and yoona inside the car as you motioned karina to take the passenger seat, you hung out the side of the open door, signaling the other driver a massive T with both of your hands, telling him to follow the first car to the hotel as you went inside.

luckily the store’s security team and the small band of police officers were able to hold the crowd back for you and momo’s team to get in the cars as you drove away, the red and blue lights of the police bikes and cruisers escorting you down the street.

“is everyone alright?” you ask, assessing everyone's condition in the car.

“we’re okay, we’re okay.” yoona replies breathlessly as momo tries to calm herself after the scare that just occurred, holding her hand as you were genuinely worried about her well-being.

“what the fuck happened out there?” karina asked as you turned around to check on her as well, slightly flustered but still composed.

“fucking heechul…” you seethed as you grip the nape of your neck trying to register the present situation in your head. “that’s strike two now for him!”

“i didn’t see! what did he do?”

“he launched a fist at someone in the crowd. i don’t know who he punched but they were pissed.”

“is he fucking crazy?.”

“it’s rare that he isn’t.”

“nayeon isn’t gonna be happy when she hears about this.” karina says as you hear a frequent beep in your ear piece.

“this is l/n, come in.”

“y/n! is everyone okay in momo’s car?” you hear mingyu on the other end, his voice still distressed causing a small lisp to appear in his voice.

“we’re all good here, i told your driver to just follow us back to the hotel, we’ll regroup there.”

“you got it.”

“how is he?” you asked mingyu about heechul’s condition.

“pretty banged up with a black eye, but don’t worry i taped his mouth shut. i’m sick with his annoying ass already today.”

“you’re welcome for that suggestion. just sit tight, we’ll talk more when we get back. out here.”

—

“he what?”

“you heard what i said nayeon.”

“jesus, how bad was the situation?”

“we managed to get out before things went south, but momo is still a bit shaken up.”

nayeon sighs through the phone, “ok, it’s good that you were able to handle the whole ordeal before it got worse. i’ll deal with heechul when the tour is over, but i can guarantee you that he’ll be gone.”

“thank the lord. he’s been a pain in the ass since he got dropped.” you reply as you lightly hit your head against the wall in the hallway.

“i already told yoona that there’s been a change in the schedule, she’ll relay the info to you.” nayeon said after she laughed.

“sounds good, i’ll call you if there’s anything else.” you say before exchanging “byes” and ending the phone call.

you walk over the door to momo’s hotel room, knocking it a few times before karina answers, letting you in as she closed it immediately after. you take off your fitted blazer as you place it on the chair, before standing over yoona and momo sitting down as they were drinking water, still shaken up from the events two hours ago.

“change in schedule, momo is gonna be staying here now for the remainder of the day.” you huffed out as yoona nodded at your instruction.

“i’m sorry about heechul, he-”

“what happened earlier with him is more than enough for us.” yoona says, already agreeing before you even said anything.

“we’ll sort him out later once this all blows over, but for now we just have to deal with it.” you add on, “yoona if you want you can come with us to get some drinks at the lobby.”

“i’ll be fine y/n thank you, i think staying with momo would be more-”

“you should go.” momo interrupts her, yoona curls an eyebrow at her. “mo, are you sure?”

“it’s fine, you deserve a small break while you can.”

“are you sure about staying here alone? we can-”

“i want y/n to stay with me.” your eyes widened at her sudden request.

“if that’s what she wants, it’s okay with me.” you assure yoona’s confused expression, “i’ll have mingyu scoop you and karina up to chill down in the lobby. i’ll join right after.”

yoona nods at your proposition as karina waits at the door, exiting shortly after yoona grabbed her handbag, leaving you and momo in the hotel room alone. you then grab a glass of water for yourself as you sit across momo in the open seat that was once occupied by yoona.

“so much for more shopping.” you say, earning a chuckle from momo as you sip your water.

“stardom gets dangerous at times, but that’s nothing new for you is it?” she says, your gaze meeting hers as you dart your tongue against the inside of your cheek.

“not my first rodeo, and it definitely won’t be my last.” you respond, unbuttoning the top two buttons of your dress shirt, rolling up both of your sleeves revealing a small set of tattoos on your left arm.

“have you always had those?” momo inquired as her interest piqued with the ink drawings on your skin as they were newly revealed.

“oh these?” you flash your arm at her, showing that the whole forearm had designs on top of designs, “i got more, but you don’t want to see that.”

“and what if i do?” she asks again, her confidence brimming more and more as she got comfortable with you in the short span of time.

“for someone who’s always alluring on stage, you sure are outgoing with flirting.” you tease as momo sits forward, slapping your thigh as she snorted out loud.

“this is your second time protecting me, no? i remember you.”

“you do?” now intrigued with her observation as she hummed at your question.

“you were so shy and timid when my team worked with yours the last time i had various events across the country, but now look at you. i would be lying if i said i wasn’t attracted.”

“oh?”

you didn’t know that momo had a thing for you since the last time you worked under her.

with this shocking revelation leaving your mouth agape as your heart pounded fervently, your eyes kept getting lost in momo’s beauty features. even if she was bare-faced wearing an oversized white shirt with training shorts under, she still looked good regardless if she was wearing the outfit from earlier or now.

before you could say anything, your eyes picked up on a patch of red with scratches on momo’s right wrist, instantly grabbing it to check. your hand was more rigid and slightly bigger compared to momo’s petite hand as you examined the damage more closely.

“was this from earlier?” you ask with a slight worry in your voice.

“it was from the car door, sorry.” momo responds with a pout as she avoids making eye contact with you.

you quickly glance at her for a second after as you stood up and walked toward the bathroom, grabbing a first aid kit from the bottom of the sink, returning back to the chair as you began treating her small injury by wrapping her wrist with a bandage.

“there’s something about the way your hands move, like they’re always prepared for anything.” momo teases, you look at her as she wore a stupid grin on her face.

“if you want these hands to do something else that you have in mind, i’ll listen.” you respond softly, trying to ignore the flush of warmth spreading across your cheeks. you finish the last of the bandage wrap as you held her hand up to the side, staring at her again prolonging the gentle, intimate moment.

“done.” you say as you let go of her wrist as you wipe your hands together and on your pants, returning your gaze on momo as she leaned in a little bit closer.

“were you serious about your hands doing something for me?” momo asks with a desire churning through your body. you didn’t answer as you were left with your mouth open, still trying to think of a simple answer.

“depends on what you have in mind.”

your mind shelves a cool response but the urges from within your heart only sent one instruction to your head for you to act on one thing and one thing only–as you and momo collided lips.

a slow and rewarding kiss that makes you forget all of the other worries about your job for a second as you draw back, trying to relish in the moment and feeling of momo’s lips with yours.

“this is my way of saying thank you.” momo mutters as you kiss her again, this time with hunger as her hand wraps your head. in just thirty seconds flat, momo’s flirtiness fed your need as the heat between your legs gradually increased.

hands continued to roam around as you shifted around the room to the bed, momo straddles you as you place both of your hands lightly on her ass, squeezing it as she moaned in your mouth at the sudden touch. she pulls away for a second, looking over her shoulder towards where your hands were.

“sorry i–” you say as she returns to face you, hungrily kissing you again as your hands moved their way up on her back. her hands swatting your arms off her body as she grabbed the edge of her shirt as she slipped it off of her flawlessly, noticing that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her oversized shirt.

“holy shit momo....” you say as you pull away as momo’s arms rest on your shoulders, taking in the new territory gained as your eyes widened in astonishment.

nobody else knew of the fact that you had dreams of sleeping with momo-let alone be in the current situation that you're in right now, but my god you kept yourself well composed at the fact momo's body that everyone oogled at some point was right in front of you. correction, on top of you.

“no one else has seen me like this, this is for you only.” momo says as her face meets yours, eyes half lidded as her lust completely takes over you.

“god you look so good.” you sigh out, kissing her chest as momo moaned at the sudden contact in the way you pull her closer as your hands slide up her waist, mumbling a small “fuck” in response.

you took your time indulging momo’s breasts as you alternate between the pair, placing small kisses on each boob, usually switching it up by placing the bud of her nipples in your mouth, occasionally brushing the other with your fingers making her strain her motions a bit which made your cunt throb even more.

“touch me y/n…” momo groans out, “t–touch me more.”

you hummed in response as you stopped to catch your breath from momo’s breasts. momo saw this as an opportunity as she attacked your neck, letting out a harsh groan as the nerve senses spiked at the feeling of momo’s lips nipping away on your skin.

leaning back as momo’s lips are still on your neck, you made the quick movement of flipping her over as you were now on top of her, towering over as she rubbed her thighs together, watching you take off your dress shirt and tossing it off to the side.

“jesus,” momo says, covering half of her face as she bit her lip at the sight of you in your bra.

she sees the remaining parts of your tattoo on your upper left arm as you tied your hair up in a messy bun. your body was built, given the extensive amount of weight training you did in your spare time as there was definition in your arms, shoulders and most notably your abs.

“didn’t know you wanted me that bad huh?” you ask her as you scooched up on the bed, your knee pressing against momo’s soaking core through her shorts, making her breath hitch slightly.

“you wanted my hands? i’ll give you my hands but,” you slide your hands up momo’s waist as she squirmed at your touch, eager to enjoy the feeling more before you grab both of her hands and place them over her head, looking at you as you amusingly smirked at her.

“i don’t want you to use yours.”

fishing for your necktie that you tossed to the side as you joined momo’s hands together, tying them together in a firm knot as you placed her tied hands over her head again.

“keep your hands there and relax, i want to make it up to you for earlier.” you breathed on her neck as she shuddered at the sound of your low, husky voice.

momo nodded, impatiently waiting for your touch as you kissed her neck once more before trailing down to the lower regions of her body. from her breasts, to her chiseled abs, until you finally reach the designated area you’ve held yourself back up till this point.

you continuously work yourself at a graceful pace, making sure to mark up any open spot possible as your fingers slide down to the waistband of her training shorts, making her twitch as you seamlessly slide the shorts off of her in one quick motion, exposing her already leaking flesh as you bite your lip.

shifting yourself lower between her legs as your breath grazes her inner thighs, momo whimpers as she tries to buck her hips forward, trying to force her pussy onto you mouth yourself, you hold her down on her stomach as she whines, toying with her nerves as you latch your lips on her inner thigh harshly leaving another string of marks across her leg.

“y-y/n–fuck, j-just–”

“didn't think you’d be so needy for me to do this.” you tease, “who would’ve thought the hirai momo would have this side of her just for me.”

you give momo’s pussy a longing lick as the surge of pleasure closes her legs reflexively, putting pressure on both sides of your head. before she could literally skull crush you, you bit against her inner thigh, forcing her legs open as she yelped at the quick pain before you latched onto her pussy with your mouth again immediately after.

“so wet for me...i can't wait to ruin you.” you say, running your finger along her sappy folds as momo lets out a needy whine as you dove back into her with more urgency.

momo’s tied hands lock behind your head, ensuring that the contact your mouth was making is never ending as you add your thumb and fingers into the mix. you groan against her core as you nourish yourself with the heavenly elixir that momo was dripping out of her as you made sure to clean up every drop.

“ngh–my g–god” momo cries out as she shakes her head frantically, too fucked to think sensibly as you continue to bombard her with pleasure, pumping your fingers in and out as your tongue lathers her clit for however long you went down on her (it wouldn't matter either way since you're enjoying the contact your mouth and finger was having in her walls.)

“so good, mmf, y/n ‘m gonna fuck-” momo utters as she’s completely lost in the tantalization that you were crafting on her swollen pussy as she feels a slight pressure building up a knot inside her stomach until finally, she lets go, releasing pressure as her walls clench around your curled finger, cumming as you relish in the delicious juice, savoring every last drop.

momo throats out a spent groan, recovering from the orgasm you worked her up so well as you trail back up to momo again, wiping your chin with the last remnants of momo’s slick with your thumb sucking it off cleanly as you work your way back up with kisses.

“was that satisfying for you?” you ask momo as she laid on the mattress, still flushed after being fucked dumb just now.

“better than what i have imagined.” she sighs out as she props her tied hands to her chest, looking at you with her dilated pupils as you cup her cheek, kissing her earnestly as you scratch the side of her hair making her hum with ease.

“since you’ve been a good girl for me all this time,” you started off saying as you reach for her hands, untying them from the necktie, setting them free.

“what do you want to do to me?” you ask momo with a sharp breath as her hands automatically roam around your chest, slipping off your bra and grazing her fingers over your erect nipples.

“i want you to sit on my face.”

you gasp at her sudden request as you happily complied, slipping off your pants and underwear in under three seconds as momo repositions herself flat on the mattress, licking her lips as she prepares herself to return the favor.

hovering your throbbing core over her face, placing your hands on the headboard of the hotel bed, you were caught off guard when momo lifted her head up to latch onto your clit unexpectedly, bucking your legs as you sat down as she began to tongue fuck you, tensing up your abs as the overwhelming wave of pleasure overloaded your senses.

“jesus, mo- fuck!”

you shout out as you adjust yourself as momo places a hand on your breast, circling your nipple as you begin to slightly grind on her face. it didn’t take long for you reach your peak as you kept your pace of overestimating your senses by touching yourself, gaining a moan from momo’s excitement of how you wanted to get yourself off to her as she relentlessly lapped your pussy with her mouth as you rubbed your clit at an excruciatingly fast pace.

“momo m-momo, i- gah!” you uttered out as you came. gripping the hearboard and eventually her head as you ride out your orgasm, breathing heavily, mumbling a string of curses as momo continued to clean you up of the mess you made on her face, hips shivering at the latching of her mouth as she retracts herself with a loud “pop” from your puffy pussy as you topple over momo's face, laying down right beside her, using the last bit of moving strength to shift her over to you as she grabbed the blanket covering you both.

as the cover nestled over the both of you; soft, sensual kisses were shared as the lust was then replaced with tiredness as you and momo’s hand rest on each other’s cheek.

“did you enjoy that?” you ask as a puffed up smile appears on your lips as momo laughs amusingly.

“i did.”

“how long have you–”

“ever since my first outing showcase.” momo answers your question quickly, “i’ve been hoping to get you assigned with me again.”

you laugh as you move your arms for momo to lay her head on your chest, kissing your breast once more as she nestled into you, letting the sleep consume her.

“i’ll make sure your name gets top priority next time you have an event.”

—

you don’t remember how long it’s been since you and momo hooked up, but from what you could assume in the first seconds of waking up to the sunlight beaming through the curtains, it was probably the next day.

trying to shift over as you felt a weight on the right side of your body, you look over to see momo still fast asleep with her face smudged over her shoulder, her arm dressed just under your boobs as her breath tickles your neck.

“morning…” you whisper to her ear as you plant a kiss to her temple, shifting your body facing her as she stirs for a bit.

momo shifts around, letting herself stretch a bit before returning her gaze on you as you prop yourself on your elbow, “hi, y/n.”

you lean forward to give her a soft peck as she basically melts at the touch of your lips, tickling her after by showering more kisses all over her face.

“did you…stay the night?” momo asks you as lay on your side again, feeling the soreness settling between your legs.

“yeah, sorry i should’ve-”

“it’s okay, i didn’t mind.”

“okay good.” you say giving her another kiss as you hear your phone vibrating on the small table next to the bed. you reach over to see who had called you, only to notice the numerous notifications in the team’s group chat as well as a few missed calls from nayeon. you would worry about it, but knowing karina would cover for you due to the impounding stress of your leadership gig as you sigh with discontent as you make a quick phone call.

“it’s y/n. yes. yes i’m aware. okay, i’ll be down shortly.” you said in your brief conversation with karina over the phone as momo slowly sits up, the blanket dropping down to her waist, showcasing all of the present marks on her body, and it wasn’t even all of them…

“you gotta go now?” momo asks you as you start to put on your panties and pants, grabbing your bra and wrapping it around your waist.

“yeah, just a quick meeting with karina and yoona in the lobby.” you reply as you look at the work you did on momo and needless to say, it was hearty work done right.

“you might wanna look at your neck y/n.” momo says with a sultry tone as you walk to the mirror to see the extensive damage and fuck, your neck was bruised.

you scoffed at your reflection, running your fingers over them as momo laughs at you.

“think someone will notice those marks i made on you?

“you’re lucky i packed a few turtlenecks for this tour.”

#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice smut #twice imagines #kpop smut #twice #hirai momo #twice momo #momo smut #momo x reader #hirai momo x reader #did i also mention smut?

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delulu-hours · 8 months

Text

Dog tags

Pairing: Jake Seresin x F!reader

Summary: Where reading a book has you fantasying about Jake and his dog tags as he has his way with you.

Waring: 18+ smut, unprotected, biting

A/n: Thank you @agentorange9595 for the request and the lovely idea! On a side not, I am not good at writing smut, but I hope you like it.

You couldn't help but bite your lip as you read the book in hand, fighting back a smile and the urge to giggle. Jake had been out for training, and you knew he would be back late, so you decided to finish the book you were reading. It was about a grumpy special op who fell in love with this badass sunshine girl. You had cried with the female lead when she learned about the terrible past the male lead had and the torture he went through during his ops. The romance was there, and it was hot. And there were several instances where they had hot, rough, and steamy sex. You had never felt jealous over the sex in the books until now. And it wasn't how the male lead was fucking her nice and slow, taking his time but being rough. No. It was for a simple reason.

That reason was that he was fucking her with his dog tags on.

Yep, the dog tags.

As you finished the sex scene, you let out a small groan. You rubbed your thighs together for some relief before placing the book down. "Pure thoughts." You told yourself, trying to help remove the image of Jake hovering over you, his dog tags hanging from his neck. The way his skin would glisten and how you would just be able to pull him closer by the tags. Another groan left your lips as you pulled the pillow to your face, and a muffled scream left your lips. This was torture. You had never known how deprived you were from the sight of seeing this man fuck you with his dog tags. The need for it. The only issue now was asking this from Jake. Asking him to rail you like no tomorrow so you could still feel him in you for days, and your legs couldn't handle walking. To the point where he would leave bruises on your hips from how hard he'd grip you. Your face flushed at the thought, and you wanted to curse your best friend for ever introducing you to a new world of smut. You pulled out your phone and shot her a quick text.

I hate you so much, but at the same time, I love you for recommending this book to me

10:47

You're welcome, and don't come at me with the innocent act cuz we both know it's just a mask.

10:52

You are anything but innocent, you're just too shy to ask.

10:53

You rolled your eyes at the message but placed your phone on the nightstand. You were almost done with the book and knew you could finish it tonight; however, you were ready to be done with it, so you just placed it on your nightstand. You turned off the lights and got ready for bed. Jake had told you not to wait for him, as you both knew you'd try to stay up until he came home. As you got comfortable, snuggling close to Jake's side, you drifted off and fell asleep quickly.

______

Several days passed, and now where you were, holding your drink in your hand. You could see the chain peek out from Jake's naval uniform from where you sat next to Bob and Nat. Lately, your eyes have been drifting to it, and you couldn't help the images that filled your mind as you bit your lip." You okay there?" Nat's voice broke your concentration as you looked at her. A smirk on her lips as she raised an eyebrow. "You look ready to jump him and rip his clothes off." The heat flushed against your skin as you let out a guilty laugh.

"Is it that obvious?" You pressed the back of your hand against your cheek. Nat just laughed and nudged you with her arm as you drank the rest of your drink in one go.

"So much so, but don't worry about any of these meat heads noticing except one." You looked up only to see Jake giving you an amused look, the pool stick in his hands as he took a drink of his beer.

"Oh my gosh," You mumbled. "I think I need another drink." You quickly got up, and Nat followed you.

"Want to tell me what that's all about?" She asked as she hooked her arm with yours as you went to the bar. "Usually, Jake's the one who looks at you like a meal he's ready to devour, not the other way around." This makes your face heat up even more, and the heat between your legs grows.

"Promise not to laugh." You gave her a pleading look as you found two open stools at the bar. She gave you a slight nod as Penny approached you guys.

"What can I get you girls?" She asked with a smile.

"I'm gonna need two shots of tequila." She gave you a look before going to get the shots. Nat had gotten her usual. "I've been reading this book, and it's steamy, Nat." You looked over at her, and a small sigh left your lips. "And when I mean steamy, I mean the girl is bent over while the guy fucks her like he's on heat, leaving marks everywhere. Claiming her and praising her." She raised an eyebrow. "And by no means is that the part that has me like this. Sex with Jake is amazing, but there's one detail in the book that has me running these images in my head, and I can't help it."

"Oh god, please don't talk about sex with him." She scrunched her nose, and you shook her head. Penny came back and placed the drinks in front of you.

"Y/n talking sex?" She joined in the conversation, surprised as well. You weren't one to be open about these conversations.

"No." You shook your head. Taking one of the shots and taking it down in one go. There was a slight burn in the back of your throat as you placed the glass down. "No, I'm not talking about my sex life. All I'm saying is that I wish Jake would keep his dog tags on. The book I'm reading has plagued my mind with the thought of it, and I need it now." You looked at both women, who seemed amused about your confession. "I'm serious here, guys."

"Oh, we know that, honey," Penny patted your hand. "And I think that is why it's entertaining for us." You rolled your eyes and took the next shot; this time, no burning sensation followed.

"It also sounds like you've been deprived of sex for a while." You shot Nat a glare as she snorted. "Like a beast has awoken." You groaned and placed your forehead on the counter.

"I hate you so much." She just laughed, and Pen gave you another shot. You looked at the small shot glass that lay beside you. You rubbed your thighs with a slight whine that left your lips. "I hate ever reading that book even though it's so good! I even saved my favorite parts on it." You pushed yourself up and took the third shot for the night.

Little did you know Jake's eyes had been watching you the entire time. Since the moment he started playing pool with Coyote, he had felt the way you had been looking at him. He felt your eyes burning into him– undressing him– and if he was honest with himself, he enjoyed it. It was rare when you were filled with so much lust and need that you didn't even realize yourself that you were showing it. He knew you weren't as innocent as you looked; however, you would never voice out what you liked. And he didn't mind it one bit. In fact, he loved it whenever he would discover something new about you. Just like at this moment, he had a vague idea of why you were acting the way you were. He accidentally stumbled across a book he had seen you read recently. He got curious about what it was about whenever he saw you, as your reactions were entertaining. So when his curiosity got the better side of him, and he opened it on a marked page, he wasn't expecting what he read. It was a lot to take in that he had to stop himself before getting worked up, but also because it hadn't been something he expected. The details were so vividly written. Just thinking about doing what was written to you made him hot as he pulled at the collar of his naval shirt. He could see the flush that dusted your cheeks even from where he stood. Coyote called out his name; Jake ignored him, passing the pool stick to Bob as he stalked toward you. He could hear Phoenix teasing you and Penny laughing, but he didn't care what they said. You had him worked up, and now he needed you, preferably in the comfort of your home. "What you ladies goin' on about?" He drawled, his hand touched your lower back, and he felt you flinch. He rubbed his thumb on your back and felt how you leaned into him. Reacting to his touch like you usually would.

"Nothin', Y/n was telling us a funny story." Nat had an amused look on her face, and you glared at her.

"You don't mind if I steal her from you then?" Jake asked, already knowing the answer as he moved his hand to your waist, pulling you up. You stumbled a bit due to being caught off guard and the alcohol running through your veins. Nat shook her head, and that was all he needed before drawing you out of Hard Deck.

"Jake," You whined when you were out the doors. "I was still drinking." He moved you towards the truck.

"I think you've had enough for the night, Darlin'." You shivered at the sound of his southern accent sounding heavier than usual. "Wanna tell me what has been goin' in that pretty little head of yours?" When you reached his truck, he turned you to face him. His green eyes looked darker, and you didn't know if it was from the night or from the lust that dilated his pupils. His hands were firmly on your waist as he looked down at you. You bit your lower lip as you took him in. He looked beautiful, but the silver chain that caught your attention was sending you overboard. You pushed your hands up his chest as your fingers grazed the chain. He watched you curiously as you pulled his dog tags, freeing them from his shirt. Your fingers play with the chain before they move to the tags. "Is it that book you've been reading?" He asked, and you looked at him with wide eyes. He would see the needy look on your face, the way a pout sat on your lips. He watched the conflict in your eyes before you made up your mind. He felt the pull on his dog tags as he was forced to lower his face to you. His eyes widened, not used to the sudden dominance you were showing.

"I need you to fuck me, Jake." He felt your lips move against his. He felt how his blood seemed to rush through his body and straight to his groin. "I want you to use me, baby." He felt the tightness in his pants. "Fuck me rough. Mark me up." You pressed a soft kiss on his lips. "Please," You begged, looking up at him through your lashes. A growl ripped out of Jake's lips, and he gripped your hips tighter. A small whimper left your lips as you felt his fingers dig into your waist. And then it all happened too quickly. He got you in the truck and drove back home.

_____

You barely made it through the doors when his hands were all over you. He pushed you up against the wall and pressed up against you. You could feel him. How hard he was. A small moan left your lips as he groped your boobs through your shirt. "You did this to yourself." His lips moved against your neck before his teeth sunk into your skin. You let out a small gasp as you gripped his arm, your nails dug into his skin. His name left your lips with a needy cry. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off you before moving to your bra. His fingers traced the lace fabric over your skin, taking in the black color. "Fuck you're so pretty, sunshine." He was tempted to rip your bra. Rip the rest of your clothes, blocking his view of your beautiful body.

"Jake," You gave him a warning tone, already knowing what he was thinking. "You rip my lingerie, and I will cut your dick off." You threatened. He raised an eyebrow as if the temptation was there. He knew you didn't mean it; however, he had ruined a few of your favorite sets.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled as he lowered himself, placing kisses and allowing his teeth to scrape your skin as he lightly bit you. The goosebumps rose on your skin, and you gripped his hair. Just as he got to the waistband of your jeans, he unbuttoned it. Light feathered kisses on your skin as you threw your head back. He observed you as he slowly pulled your pants down. Your eyes dilated as you looked down at him. He kissed my thighs, and you brought them up, stepping out of your pants. "Look at you," His fingers grazed the front of your black laced underwear. He could feel how wet you were. "All wet for me, and I barely even touched you." He watched as you rocked your hips against his fingers. His other hand gripped your thigh.

"Jake," You whined, needing more. He moved his hands to the back of your knee. Pushing you over his shoulder, he picked you up and marched to your room. A smack echoed in the room, and you felt the burning sensation on your ass. You pushed yourself back up, surprised by his action, while he had a satisfying grin on his lips. He kicked the door open to your room. He didn't even say anything as you dropped him on the bed. You bounced a couple of times as you watched him unbutton his shirt. That look in his eyes made the pit in your stomach flare up. He looked at you like a predator, and you were his prey. He took his shirt off like he was ready to pounce on you, and your eyes racked down his chest. The dog tags hung around his neck and down his chest. You bit your lip as you looked at him, taking in his beauty and how the tags seemed to decorate him. It added to the fuel you had racing through your mind. You moved to your knees, your fingers touching his skin about his waistband as you looked up at him. The doe-eyed look you gave him made Jake groan as he fought the urge to ravage you like the animal he felt. He watched as your fingers undid his pants, your nails scraped his pelvic skin as you pulled his boxers down. He let out a hiss as his cock sprung up and smacked his stomach. You licked your lips as you reached out to grab his throbbing cock. Your thumb ran along the head, rubbing the precum across before you stroked down slowly.

"Fuck," Jake moaned, and you looked at him through your lashes. He looked down at you with hooded eyes as you pumped back up. His face twisted with pleasure before he grabbed your wrist. "Baby, if you keep touching and looking at me like that, I won't last." He pushed the words out, his tumble rubbing the inside of my wrist. "Tonight, it's going to be about you." He pushed you down, hovering over you as he removed your hands. He used his free hand to move your thigh so he could settle in between your legs. He was slightly rocking himself against you before he pulled back. A frown settled on your lips from the lack of contact. He just had a smirk on his lips. "Take it off, or else they're gonna get ripped." He claimed, motioning to your body. He slipped his pants and boxer off completely, and you wasted no time taking off your underwear and bra. You laid back, watching as his hands wrapped around himself and giving himself a few pumps. His eyes looked at you with such hunger it caused the arousal to gather between your thighs. His hands over the head of his cock as you spread your legs open, showcasing your glistening folds. His nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw. He didn't even bother grabbing a condom as he settled between your thighs. He guided the head of his cock, coating it with your arousal. His left hand rested by your hips as he held himself up. Each time his head rubbed against your clothes, you whimpered. Desperately trying to get him in you, you shifted your hips and gripped his wrist.

"Jake, please. I need you." You begged, needing him now. He didn't even deny you as he guided himself to your entrance. He didn't even bother prying your hand off his wrist as he held your hip down. He used his hold on you to slip himself in with a full-force thrust. You gasped, back arched as you felt him stretch you open. He forced himself not to close his eyes from the pleasure as he watched the pleasure on your face. Using both hands on your waist, he pulled out all the way, causing a cry to leave your lips before slamming back in. He did that a couple of times, and each time; your reaction drove him crazy. Your nails dug into his skin as you gripped his arm. He moved down to capture your lips, using his right arm to steady himself. The cool metal touched your skin, and you brought his lower lip between your teeth, biting it lightly. Your teeth dragged against his lower lip as he pulled back, and you felt his left hand grip tightly around your waist; you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't leave bruises. He began to move himself in and out of you; the noise of your skins coming into contact echoed in the room. Moaned curses left your lips as your ankles locked behind him. "Jake- fuck- don't," You squeezed your eyes feeling him hit your sweet spot. "Don't stop, please." He groaned, loving to hear your sweet pleas.

You opened your eyes, and a hazy look of pleasure filled your eyes as your gaze lingered on the dog tags that hung between the both of you. You brought your hand up and lightly tugged on it. Jake felt the way you clenched around him. He slowed down, and you looked up at him, ready to complain. "Is this what has been driving you up the walls, princess?" He raised an eyebrow. When you bit your lip and didn't answer, he rocked his hips before pulling out so the tip of his cock rested in your pussy. "Words. Have you been all needy little thing because you've wanted me to fuck you crazy with my tags?" You whined as he pushed himself in a bit. Even if not being in you was torture, Jake needed to hear you say it. You clenched your walls, trying to get him in you. "What did I say? Use your words." The tone in his voice was demanding. You closed your eyes, lip quivering from the lack of him.

"Jake," You tried to push your hips down, but he held you in place. You knew he wouldn't give you what you needed until you answered him. "Yes," You finally gave in. "I've been wanting you to fuck me with your tags." You looked up at him with hooded lids, and your lashes fluttered against your cheeks.

"See," He trusted himself in you, and you felt full again with him in you. "That's my good girl. It wasn't hard, was it?" You watched as he spun the tags so they would hang on his back, and he felt you clenched down on him hard. "Fuck," He groaned, using his strength to steady himself. "I'm gonna ruin you tonight so this naughty pussy remembers whose it belongs to." He promised, and you felt yourself tense up, knowing that quote a little too well. He licked his lower lip, a smirk dancing on them. You were in for a long night, and you were screwed. He had read your book, specifically the part you had marked.

#top gun jake #top gun jake hangman seresin #top gun jake seresin #top gun hangman #seresin #top gun #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #top gun seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #top gun imagine

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

Note

Congratulations on hitting over 5k followers, you deserve them all and so much more! I got so excited when I realised you're taking requests for short drabbles so I was thinking along the lines of a meet the parents sort of situation with Captain MacTavish. Maybe they're both on the same team or whatever and are now engaged but Soap still hasn't had the time to officially introduce her to the family so he does so when they're both on leave and she's just the complete opposite to him but they just fit (like a puzzle piece) and the family notices and absolutely adores it. Bonus Points if Soap is just completely whipped (cause he totally would be)

—I Can See It In Your Eyes

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [It's finally time to meet the family.] ❞

Blue eyes watch silently as you speak to his father, an easy and honest smile on your lips. John blinks at the ring on your finger as you move your hand in a display of the story you were telling—the OP in Brazil, John thinks he overheard minutes earlier—a matching band to his that had been there only a single month now. You both only ever wore them on leave, otherwise, they were stuck to the chain of your dog tags; hidden away until they could be brought back to life once more.

Truthfully, this had been a long time coming.

“She’s lively,” his mother comments, and John hums, bringing the beer in his hand up to his lips for a tiny sip from where he rests against the far wall. “Your father likes her, no doubt. Never seen him smile that much at any of the ones from the younger years.”

“Those weren’t serious,” John scoffs, scar over his eye pulling as he spares his Mum a glance through a smirk. “If they were, it’d be different, eh?”

“No,” the woman grabs at his ear, pulling it as he flinches and hides a snap of his teeth at her. “A mother can tell. They weren’t good for you—didn’t make you watch ‘em like that, least.”

A reddish sheen comes to the Scot’s cheeks, avoiding the digging smugness of his matriarch as he shifts his legs.

“Stop doin’ that, Woman,” John grumbles.

“You’re doin’ it to yourself, ya little devil.” Growling, the mighty Captain out in the field is brought low easily by his mum’s own intelligence—but it wasn’t a secret. Everyone in the family could see how he looked at you, how when you spoke, his head snapped over to hear the sound of your voice like it was a call from sea and he a vessel lost to the curtain of mist.

Even now, amid a conversation, those blue eyes couldn’t help but move back as you and his aging father bent over in laughter—a small flicker on John’s lips that usually held a cold smirk or nothing at all.

His mum hums to him, watching you.

“I like ‘er.”

“Good, else this might have been awkward.” He pushes out casually, one arm going to cross his chest to rest on his shirt collar. “There’s always eloping, aye?”

Before his mother can grab at his ear again, you call out, and, like the dog he is, John’s head swivels and his expression settles down easily.

“John, come and tell your part from Brazil! I only have my half, and I always forget the piece from—”

“From the time I catch the HVT on to the time the spider bit my fuckin’ arse, yeah, Bonnie, I know.” He smirks, waltzing over to the chair you sit in, and firmly moves you over with a grab at your arm. You hum in confusion, but it’s not long before John takes your seat and drags you atop his lap. Blinking quickly, you humph and look down at him with a raised brow.

“We’re at your parents’, John,” your face is heated, voice hushed as you slap at his arm. “What are you doing?”

“Holdin’ my future wife, Dearie, isn’t it obvious?” The man’s lips twitch. “Ah, it’s fine. Settle back and let me speak now, eh?”

You fake glare, rolling your eyes, but your legs shift nonetheless to a more comfortable position as John’s mum and dad share a soft look with one another. They really couldn’t have asked for a better match—you evened out his hard slyness, the wrinkles on his forehead, and the age that lies under John’s beard. And in turn, you seemed to beam and be about as easy a person to get along with as any.

Even from the rare letters that the two would get, they had known you were something special because you’d been mentioned in the first place. John rarely told of his work, even less so about people.

As John gets on with his side of the humorous and mostly dumbed-down tale of one of your shared operations together, they see you watch him; take in every word. The smile that peels your lips as you shake your head and say, ‘I never tripped, MacTavish, get that out of your head. You made that up—he made that up.’

“I didn’t,” John huffs, glaring at you. “You went down and got covered head t’ foot in mud, then I told you to get your arse in gear and ya cursed at me like a sailor.”

“Bullshit,” you raise your brows, pointing into his face. “You’re losing it!”

“Oh, we’ve been past that bend a long time ago, Bonnie, c’mon now.”

The parents watch on, smiling.

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty x you #captain mactavish x reader #captain mactavish #captain john mactavish #john mactavish x you #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #x fem!reader #john mactavish

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

[vol i] [vol ii] [vol iii]

Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie is slowly becoming easier to live with you’re not sure if you’re just used to his disgusting behavior or if he’s truly trying to change. You make a schedule for chores and when/who/what time showers will be taken, chaos ensues on both Eddie and you. Eddie reveals a side of him that reader hasn’t seen/ noticed before.

W/C: 6.4k

A/N: if you were looking for some disgusting! Eddie smut this is the chapter for you babe.

Warnings: NO MINORS! Smut, blow jobs, rough sexual acts, degrading, daddy!kink, vomit, crude language (as if any of my fics don’t have this)

S/O: @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @boomhauer @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @banished-big-ope-vibes @carolmunson @newlips for helping me beta read, come up with dialogue, pacing, letting me insert them throughout the fic, helping me breakdown how this disgusting little mf would act in certain situations + everything in between! You guys are the best! If you aren’t already— follow them.

You couldn’t deny that things had gotten better with having Eddie as a roommate (not that you would ever express that to him) but living with the overgrown child was slightly very slightly, like a teeny tiny bit, better than it was before.

After living in his disgusting cluster fuck of a room for a week, Eddie finally sat down amongst his heap of mixed dirty and clean clothes and organized it. The disaster made your eye twitch every time you walked past his room in the morning and got a whiff of his stench, reeking of weed and Doritos, you finally convinced him to get it done, and in typical Eddie fashion— it came with a price.

After bargaining for days and nearly pulling your hair out because all he wanted was a single pair of your panties—

“Why? So you can hold them up like that dork in Sixteen Candles to show all your nerd friends?”

“Babe, the ladies I fuck don’t wear panties.”

He finally settled on a six pack of Busch Light, and for you to do his laundry for a week.

“Remember to separate my delicates, sweetheart.”

Fucking pig.

The only thing delicate about Eddie was his ego when you told him his hair was thinning out on top, (it definitely wasn’t, he had more hair than cousin It) but you needed the upper hand, and criticizing his hair was the way to do just that.

His bed frame and the oak dressers he had ordered, finally arrived. Allowing him to put away his never ending collection of band tee’s and holy jeans. Clearing a path for his floor.

“Holy shit, is that the carpet?” You ask, standing in the door frame before your shift at the salon, toothbrush in your hand, minty dollop of toothpaste atop it.

He’s elbow deep in the dresser, foregoing folding anything but instead shoving the clothes haphazardly into the shallow drawers and slamming them shut with his legs, or his hip.

“Wow, Tooty, you’re hilarious,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, “but since you asked, yes, it does, match the drapes.”

A smile spreads across his lips. Another normal conversation turning into a sexual innuendo. He couldn’t be prouder of the way you walked right into that. Since you told him what happened to Eyeball he really has been holding back his usual gross behavior, but sometimes it was just a slip of the tongue for him. Involuntary action.

You turn to leave but he stops you, crossing the room at record speed and placing a ringed hand on your wrist, the surprising warmth from his hand burning your skin.

“Hey, uh, can I get your opinion quick?”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think the groupies give a shit what color boxers you wear.”

“Wow, okay— that’s the wrong answer! But I’m talking about this.”

He points to the shelf crammed full of his odd knick knacks. It originally belonged to Nancy, but she had left it behind. Inside of it were a hoard of books. Lord of the Rings, something that looked like manuals for Dungeons & Dragons—of course he’s still playing that— a plethora of Stephen King books, and a full— more than likely sticky— stack of playboys. Go figure.

“What about it?”

“Do you think it looks good here or should I move it under the window?” Eddie asks, hands out wide measuring and comparing in arms length the distance under the window and the width of the book shelf.

You take a step into his room, every square inch of wall was covered in posters, your former bed sheets graffitied with his band, hung on one wall, the opposite held a kitchen knife stabbed through the drywall.

“What are you trying to do, feng shui?”

“Bless you.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “You sneezed, and me, being the pinnacle Christian son that I am, I blessed you, now should I keep this here?”

It took you a minute to comprehend what the hell just happened and why.

“Blessed by Eddie Munson— that’s the biggest oxymoron I’ve ever heard,” you snort, a smile twisted on your lips as you look at the overgrown man child huff about where to put his shelf, shoving your toothbrush into your mouth, “looks fine there.”

He did start cleaning up after himself, even offering to vacuum the living room in exchange for you making supper most nights. Begging you to make the lasagna again after he ate almost the entire pan the last time. He even decided to get take out on his one night a week to cook. Thank God because you couldn’t handle one more night of burnt, made-in-the-toaster, grilled cheese or using orange juice as a replacement when the milk was gone for cereal.

You learned the hard way that you needed to buy two separate gallons of milk, after watching Eddie drink straight from the jug, a dripping white mustache formed on his upper lip as he licked it suggestively, “Got milk?” He’d ask before roaring with laughter.

The next few weeks with Eddie as your roommate went rather smoothly. With you working at the salon and him working long hours at Boom’s Auto shop, you two came home at almost the same time every night. He would show up covered in grease and reeking of motor oil. His work coveralls, branding a white and red labeled patch with his name on them, had the sleeves cut off, showcasing his muscled arms and the wide array of tattoos prickling up and down them, shoulder to wrist. He wore a sweaty bandana wrapped around his head, rotating between a black or a red one, depending on the day.

You didn’t mind doing his laundry since his pockets were always full of either loose bills or the occasional joint, which you would keep, and smoke later with Robin and Steve, giggling watching the stars as you laid out on blankets in the backyard.

On Saturday nights, he usually played with the band, scoring a gig at the Hideout or working at the bar til closing time, helping Tom bartend a little until Walt got back from vacation. He stumbled in at night knocking over a lamp and almost falling backwards down the basement steps. He’d pass out for a greater half of the next day, waking in the afternoon with a raspy voice and smelling like cheap cologne.

One particular Sunday morning, he stumbled out of his room, wearing black boxer briefs, and a sleepy grin, rubbing his eyes like a little kid.

“Mornin’” he grumbled opening the fridge and diving in for his notorious pickles, tilting it to his lips and drinking straight from the jar.

You shake your head, sitting at the table and sorting through the mail. Your hair in a clip and wearing an oversized crew neck sweater, your mauve fingernails flicking through the envelope flaps, jotting down what’s due and when. “It’s 1 in the afternoon, Eddie.”

He smacks his lips loudly and faces you, fishing a pickle from the jar with his bare hands, “metal has no time limits, Tooty, we play until the bar shuts down.” He makes his way towards you, wearing one sock and chomping on his pickle.

You notice something on his stomach, a new tattoo? Maybe? Riding low on his waist and almost dipping below his underwear. The closer he gets you can make out the writing, a permanent marker phone number from a groupie written on his lower abs.

You point your pen towards his stomach, “gonna get that thing tattooed on, make it official, that Eddie the freak Munson has at least one adoring fan?”

He looks down, a smile pressing on his lips, “aww no need to be sad sweetheart,” he says lowering himself into a chair beside you, “there’s plenty of me to go around, and besides, I thought good little nuns couldn’t fuck, saving themselves for God.. or are you one of the dirty ones, showing your tits for cash so you can gamble?” He winks and laughs as you shove his shoulder trying to throw him out of the chair.

“You’re so gross!”

“And yet, I’m still here.” the Cheshire Cat smile planted on his lips.

Still. You had to admit, no matter how nasty his jokes were or how annoying he could be— having Eddie around wasn’t that bad.

“Tooty!” Eddie yells through the bathroom door bouncing from one foot to another, banging on the door with an open palm, “I’m going to piss my pants if you don’t hurry up!”

You had only been in the shower for ten minutes. When you walked past his room this morning with sleepy eyes and a deep yawn, metal music blared from his bedroom along with the annoying beep of his alarm clock, but the prince of filth was fast asleep.

“The schedule that you made says I get the bathroom first on Fridays, which is today!”

The schedule you had designed for Eddie and yourself consisted of 7 vertical columns one for each day of the week, and 5 horizontal columns: showering, laundry day, dishes, cooking, garbage. You had more days in the cooking column than Eddie, just like he had more days in the garbage column than you did. It evened out.

“Wrong— you were supposed to get the bathroom at 7, it’s now past 7:30 so it’s my turn,” you correct, putting a generous amount of body wash on your loofah and foaming it up, white suds cleansing your skin, “not my fault you can’t wake up to your alarm.”

“Christ, seriously just open the door! I’m fuckin’ dancing around out here like a little kid!”

“Can’t hear you,” you sing out to him, laughing silently beneath the spray of water.

You hear the feverish jiggle of the brass handle on the door and heavy footsteps as he stomps away. Oh the joys of victory. You bask in the delight of getting a one up on Eddie. Something that rarely happened in the few weeks he has been living with you. Slathering conditioner in your hair and rinsing, you exit the shower, feeling refreshed and ready to start the day.

Opening the bathroom door you expected Eddie to barrel through you to get to the bathroom, you’re taken aback when you hear faint yelling coming from outside.

“… piss in the front yard of my own house— I will! Go back to trimming your hedges with your toddler sized shorts and mind your own goddamn—,”

“Eddie!”

He’s standing barefoot in the middle of the lawn, his navy boxer briefs the only clothing he has on. Double middle fingers raised in the early morning sky aimed towards your neighbor across the street, Mr. Derry, the neighborhood watch dog. He was an older man, no kids, no wife. Retired. And a grade A pain in the ass.

Eddie turns and looks to you, pink blush creeping over his cheeks, “…business.” Eyes wide in innocence as if he hasn’t done anything wrong.

You’re still in your towel, hair soaking wet down your back, watching as this crazed lunatic you have as a roommate terrorizes the neighborhood, one flash of his dick at a time.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him towards the front door.

“Gracing the common folk of Cherry Lane with my morning wood, yeah take a picture and frame it you fuckin’ perv!”

Yanking harder you get him inside and slam the door. Your cheeks are flushed with embarrassment.

You open your mouth to speak but Eddie has already started explaining.

“Listen, I had to piss bad, like really bad. You could have just unlocked the door but no, Ms. Uptight-independent Tooty with your rules and schedules—” he stops and takes a breath. After your conversation a few weeks ago about the downfall of Eyeball and your own family abandoning you, Eddie had been trying to be more reasonable about things, more cautious about the way he worded things. Not trying to twist the knife lodged into your chest that had been driven there years ago.

“So I made up my own rule! If you’re gonna take forever shaving your legs or…other things…” his eyes cast down your body. The white towel snug against your form, you clutch it tighter around you as his eyes stare through the towel, begging to catch a glimpse of your wet, smooth skin. Water droplets taunting him as they fall down the slick of your hair. He shakes his head to clear his gutter mind. “I’m going to take matters into my own hands, and believe me princess, it was a handful.”

That’s about as dialed back as Eddie could be.

“You can’t just piss in the front yard! This neighborhood is not like the trailer park, that asshole you called a perv—“

“He was! He was looking right at my dick!”

“— once called the cops on Nancy because she parked by his curb when we were having her bridal shower.”

“Wa-wait, Nancy fucking Wheeler got the cops called on her?”

“Yeah, Hop wasn’t too happy to find out what it was for, calling Derry a waste of space.”

Eddie laughs, “Oh I’m not surprised— him and I go way back, remember?”

Of course you did, he busted Eddie too many times driving higher than the Empire State Building while bringing you, Dustin, Will and Mike back to the Wheeler’s. It was almost a running joke between him and Hopper. Eddie would slip him a joint while in the back of his patrol vehicle and away he went, no ticket, no charge, nothing.

“Anyway,” you jeer, pointing a finger into his bare chest, the tip of your nail making a half moon indent into the head of the bloody demon inked on his left pec, “he’s a fucking asshole so don’t piss him off, he’ll make our lives hell.”

“Fine,” Eddie groans, running his hands down his face “but he was gawking!”

You roll your eyes and grab your hair dryer from your room. An adjustment you’ve had to do since Eddie moved in, getting ready partly in your room and in the bathroom. After your hair is dried and styled, you opt for a pair of light wash overall shorts, and a thick strapped, high neck tank top underneath. You finish your makeup by applying a coat of Revlon’s Toast of New York on your lips. Sliding on your knock off Doc Marten sandals, you grab your purse and head for the door.

Eddie’s sitting at the kitchen table, chair pulled out as he laces up his black work boots, body bent over his knee as he jerks his hand side to side, lazily working the laces through the hook eyelets.

“Still getting groceries tomorrow?” He asks, shoving his white cotton covered foot into his other boot, repeating the process. “I added some essentials to the grocery list.” He gestures to the pad and paper with a tilt of his chin.

Scanning the list you laugh, “Dunkaroos are not essential.”

“Don’t you dare cross them off!” Eddie fake shouts, a grin stretching across his lips, showing off his straight teeth.

“I’m off tomorrow and don’t have many clients today— I know it’s your night to cook, but I was thinking of making tater tot casserole for supper, I’ll just have to stop and get some ground beef from Bradley’s before I come home.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie lamented, “I have a gig tonight instead of tomorrow at the Hideout,” he says standing, running his hands down his legs to shake down his coveralls. “It’s probably going to be late, so don’t worry about making anything.”

Ripping the grocery list from the pad and stuffing it into your purse, you think back to how long it has been since you’d seen them play. You went along to support Chrissy and since Eddie was Kev’s longtime best friend and basically your chauffeur, you at least owed it to him to go with. A memory of you head banging and holding Chrissy’s hand tight as you both screamed for Corroded Coffin clouded your mind.

Threading your purse straps through your fingers and casting your eyes downward you have to know, “… you guys still play Lady Evil?”

Eddie grins again, “wouldn’t be a Corroded Coffin gig if we didn’t play some Sabbath, Jeff would probably throw a hissy fit.”

Friday evenings were usually busy in the shop. Boom ran a tight ship and paid better than any auto shop in a thirty mile radius. Eddie was lucky to get hired on using his street smarts and the fact that he was the unpaid mechanic of the trailer park for every banged up old sedan that his neighbors had since he was sixteen.

The old radio crackled and fussed as Hank Williams Jr sang about the survival rate of country boys. Boom whistled along with the tune. Running his tanned fingers through his blonde hair, a Mr. Pibb and a ham sandwich in front of him.

“So Eddie,” he says leaning back in his plastic chair, “I heard from the boys that you moved into a house on Cherry Lane. Damn boy, I thought that trailer park ran deep in your blood.”

Eddie throws his empty Mt. Dew can into the trash, missing by a mile. “Ahh Boom, you know I’m the prince of the park. Just stretching my city legs, helping out a friend.”

“Didn’t know you and Eyeball’s sister were close.” Aaron sneered, lighting up a cigarette with a strike of a match against his boot.

Eddie’s light hearted demeanor immediately changed, smile fading and eyebrows pulling together, “what the hell does that mean?”

“Helping out a friend?” Sean spat, his wiry mustache shriveled into a snarl, “what are you Mother Teresa? The only help that bitch needs is a fucking lobotomy.”

“Hey,” Eddie interjects, pointing a greased finger into Sean’s face, “don’t fucking talk about her like that, man.”

Aaron talks around his cigarette, blowing smoke across the table, “It’s true, she’s smokin’ fuckin’ hot but crazier than a shit house rat.”

The pair laugh, choking on smoke and bits of crusty bread.

“Remember what Chad said about her?” Aaron laughed..

“Fuck yeah how did he put that? Don’t marry the girls with the daddy issues, even if they let you put it in their a—”

Eddie slams his fists into Sean’s shirt, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him against the wall, “another word, about her— and I’ll break your fuckin’ nose.”

“You threatenin’ me Munson?” Sean chokes out.

Eddies eyes are crazed as he glares in Sean’s, “never a threat, pencil dick, it’s a promise.”

“Fellas,” Boom hollers, shoving his chair back with an eerie scratch, metal legs scraping on broken tile, “I’ll send ya both home for the day with no pay if y’all don’t knock it the fuck off.”

Eddie shoves Sean into the wall hard once more, releasing his grip on his shirt and adjusting his rings. He cracks his knuckles as he stomps back through the bay doors and out to the Buick he had been working on.

Ducking under the hood his breathing is erratic and his fists are shaking.

He never asked what happened with you and Chad but by the sounds of it, it sure as hell didn’t end on good terms.

It was fine if he teased you, but hearing it from anyone else wasn’t gonna fly with him. Not today, not ever. But something about the way you opened up to him, showed him your vulnerable side, it made him almost protective of you, like he needed to shield you from the ugliest parts of the world.

He never would have thought that Eyeball’s little sister, tough little Tooty, the same girl who punched Billy Hargrove in the face after pinching her ass one night, would make him care so much.

“Told ya he’s cool,” Steve slurs over his Bloody Mary, clinking the ice in the glass as he tips it back into his mouth, “he’s like a wild animal, but once you get to know him— he’s just a tattooed teddy bear.”

You, Robin and Steve were out for dinner and drinks at Louie’s, the newer sports bar in Hawkins, sitting under an emerald and white striped umbrella in the hot humid summer air. A monthly ritual you started ages ago when you all worked at Family Video. Only back then you went to Benny’s to get burgers and concrete thick milkshakes, racing to see who could finish first which ultimately ended in Robin getting a stomach ache, every time.

“I could have killed him the first few days,” you say, sipping your Malibu and Diet Coke through two neon straws, “honestly, still debating it.”

Robin steals the pickle spear and celery stick from Steve’s drink, munching away and talking with a mouthful, Steve simply rolls his eyes and reaches for another mozzarella stick, “wait, I thought you guys were getting along better now.”

“They are!” Steve interjects, pointing the mozzarella stick around like he was directing an orchestra, “I asked him myself when I brought my car to Boom’s yesterday for an oil change.”

The thought of your friends asking your roommate, who just so happens to also be their friend, how things were going between you both, made your stomach lurch.

“Well,” Robin began, twirling her pina colada and biting into the yellow flesh of the pineapple , “I’m just glad you aren’t by yourself anymore. It freaked me out knowing you were there alone.”

She wasn’t the only one.

Before Eddie had moved in, Steve gave you his prized nail bat to keep by your bed. So far you haven’t had to use it. And with Eddie in the house, it was stored in your closet.

“Alright, I’ll admit,” you say, taking a long drink, feeling the warmth of the coconut flavored alcohol mix with the Diet Coke bubbles, a frenzy on your tongue, “he’s come a long way,” you admit, dunking a fry into the mayo ketchup concoction, “finally house broke.”

It was the truth, you really didn’t mind him being around.

“Shh, gotta be quiet girls, daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, but seriously, you need to shut up.”

The girls laugh, drunk off bottom shelf liquor and Jell-O shots from the Hideout. Three pairs of tangled legs stumble through the front door as Eddie hurriedly works his keys into the lock.

The two of them giggle and hush one another, planting kisses on either side of his neck and stepping out of their shoes. His leather jacket hits the floor, the shirt he was wearing was ripped to shreds from the collar down. Carol’s fingers feverishly tore at his clothing before the three of them even made it to the van.

Foregoing the zipper on the tight leather mini dress she’s wearing, Eddie shoves it down her hips, giving her ass a firm squeeze, toying with the fishnet tights, “these stay on,” he demands, slapping her ass and unzipping his jeans, a parade of cheap lingerie, and leather studded clothing start from the front door and end in Eddie’s bedroom.

Your car wasn’t home which was odd but maybe it was parked in the garage. He wasn't sure where you were but if you were sleeping he didn’t want to wake you up. You had never discussed any boundaries about him bringing someone home, but what kind of rockstar would he be if he turned down hot twins?

They had approached him after the show, twisting their evil tongues into his mouth and groping him as soon as he got backstage.

Jeff was in the back room with his long time girlfriend Ash, they were holding each other tight as he kissed her neck and she squealed into his ear.

The girl who showed up to every gig, Marissa, wearing her signature “here for the drummer” shirt, was currently bent over the bathroom sink, Gareth buried deep inside her.

Even Big D was getting some action, the waitress from Benny’s, Emily, was currently bobbing along on his dick.

All of them were getting lucky, a win for Corroded Coffin. The girls were screaming for them, bras and panties tossed on stage, Gareth sporting multiple pairs around his neck. The old bar flies drunk off beer on tap were singing along to the requested songs.

Cece’s pink floral dress is brought over her head as Eddie sucks her nipple into his mouth, teasing and biting as Carol kneels at his feet and works her palm into his boxers, gasping at the hardened length in her grip.

A monster lies beneath the cotton. Almost as thick as her forearm, her dainty fingers unable to reach fully around his girth. She pumps him slow, releasing his throbbing cock.

His fingers twist into their hair as he shoves Cece down to her knees, joining Carol in the worship of Eddie Munson’s dick. Their greedy mouths take him in, one popping his balls into her mouth the other choking on his fat cock.

Eddie wasn’t gentle when he fucked groupies. He took what he wanted and didn’t leave any room for complaints or questions. Shut off from the gentle loving side sex can bring and only seeing red, it was like he was a mad man. A different person entirely. Truly the horns of satan poked through his forehead and his eyes clouded over revealing a black veil of sin.

Demon eyed.

He was pissed from what happened earlier at work. Fucking insane with rage at Sean and Aaron talking shit about you.

Not you, not Tooty.

His frustration builds as the sound of lungs gasping for air fills his ears.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, “Jesus Christ— don’t you wanna be good for daddy? Open that fuckin’ throat up and take what I give to you.”

He grabs Cece’s hair and thrusts himself in her mouth, ignoring her tears as she gags and swallows him whole. “Are you crying? Poor fucking baby, what a shame, on the bed now.” He grabs her up by the throat and tosses her onto the bed.

He’d kill Chad if he ever saw him again. Still had no idea what he did or why you two broke up but hearing his mantra spill from those asshat’s mouths today was enough to make his skin crawl.

The vulgar shit they were saying. The way they non chalantly said it like they were reciting their McDonald’s order. Fuck that bothered him.

Cock swinging, Eddie pinches Carol’s nipples until she’s standing, he flips her upside down, fucking into her open mouth as he bites her fishnet tights open and spits on her pussy. Tossing her on the bed like discarded trash he slaps both of their asses.

He tries to blur you away from his mind, separate you from his brain for a while to release this pent up anger. But all he can see are the small tears falling from your eyes when you tell him the truth about your family.

The Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day.

Shaking his head he bounds to his bed, trying like hell to focus on his task at hand.

“Are my little whores ready? Think you can handle this without tearing up?”

When Steve drops you off you’ve already puked in his car, twice. When he announced that drinks were on him tonight, you may have been double fisting Jack and Cokes with Robin, and taking vodka shots, racing to see who could finish first.

Robin passed out in the back of his car, snuggled up with the cold leather on her cheek.

“Steeb, I’m fine, seriously! Look how good I’m walking.”

“That’s because I’m carrying you.” Steve huffs as he opens the front door.

You’re slurring your words and talking in a volume that could raise the dead, “You’re such a good friend Stephen, why? Why why why are you single?” You hiccup, the remnants of your vomit lingering on your breath, “You need a wife!”

“Tooty, we can talk about my failed love life another day,” Steve grunts, carrying you into the house, stepping over boots and skimpy clothing, “for now let’s get you to the bathroom so you can get cleaned up and maybe puke in the toilet this time!”

“I just wanna go to bed. I’m tired,” you whine, “Stoven bring me to my room, let me go to sleep!”

Ignoring you, Steve brings you to the bathroom and plops you down on the floor, opening the toilet lids just in time for you to blow chunks all over.

“Ooh that one looks like a mozzarella stick.”

“Jesus, I’m never letting you two idiots drink again! I’m always your goddamn babysitter, it’s so annoying.” Steve laughs, riddling your hair. Ever since you stepped foot into Family Video at fifteen, looking for a job, the three of you were inseparable. “You think you’re gonna be okay? I gotta get that other shit head home before she pukes in the backseat, I already have to clean the front.”

“Oh no! I didn’t know you threw up!”

Steve rolls his eyes, dragging his hands down his face.

“See you tomorrow, I’ll call you okay?” His face is pulled into concern, eyebrows raised and pinched together

You salute him and wave, laughing at his mop of hair flopping around as he turns to leave. Struggling for at least ten minutes to get your denim overall shorts unbuckled, cursing and giggling at your own drunken stupor. You finally manage to get them un done shucking them off your legs, leaving your upper body covered by your tank top, the black panties you were wearing still on. Sliding your arms around your back you manage to unhook your bra and thread it through your shirt, tossing it into the shower beside you. Exhausted, you rest your head on the toilet bowl— falling into a dizzy sleep.

“Cece, come here!” Carol whispers loudly. She’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, mouth agape at the sight of the slumped over figure hugging the toilet bowl.

“Holy shit!” She says, emerging from Eddie’s bedroom. “Is that? No fucking way.”

“I didn’t know he was screwing her too!” Carol breathes jealousy spewing from her lips.

“You really think he’d want to fuck that? Look at her! She’s a walking basket case. I heard that her family moved away because she wigged out and tried to kill her own mom.”

“Actually, the rumor is that I killed them all,” you add, raising your sleepy drunk face from the toilet, seeing double and trying not to puke on the spot, you try to stand, using the toilet to support your weight as you push off from it, wobbling horrifically.

“Get the fuck out,” you say, vision dancing as you try to point to the front door, holding onto the sink to stabilize yourself wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, “now.”

“Yeah?” Cece spits, folding her arms across her chest, “you gonna make us? Last I checked we were guests—“

“Not anymore,” Eddie hissed, adjusting the waist of his sweatpants as he looks into the bathroom at your disheveled appearance. Your makeup is smeared from throwing up, you’re half naked and barefoot, clutching onto the sink. Your overalls are covered in puke, and in a heap of vomit on the floor, a purple bra hangs over the edge of the tub. He wedges himself into the bathroom between you and the two girls, covering you with his tall frame from their view. His nostrils are flared and his chest is puffed out, “you heard her, get the fuck out.”

“What the fuck Eddie?!” Carol gripes, looking into his mad eyes.

He glares back, bored with her, “Did you really think you were gonna stay the night?” He prods, “Please, you can’t be that fucking stupid. Get your shit and go.”

“We live across town!” Cece squeaks, face pulled into shock and humiliation.

“Don’t care.”

Carol crosses her arms and glares into his eyes, “It’s late!”

“And?” He asks glaring back, and pushing through them, “Here let me help.”

Eddie takes their purses and shoes, tossing them out the front door into the yard. Pointing to the open door and fuming, he spits, “Out.”

The girls leave screeching ‘fuck you’s’ as they walk down the sidewalk, disappearing into the night.

He turns back to the bathroom, hearing you vomit again, one small glance and he can tell you hit the sink at least, puke splattering all over— the same reaction if you held a spoon under running water.

He turns around and comes back with the cleaner and a roll of paper towels, gagging with each wipe of the sink as he cleans it up.

Your crumbled body is slumped over the toilet again.

“Gonna live? Or should I call the coroner.” He says leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a look of worry on his face.

“ ‘s Robin’s fault,” you mumble, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, “woulda been fine if it wasn’t for the sh—,” you gag thinking of the vodka, “—shots, I’m usually not like this.”

Eddie sits on the side of the tub. You’re wasted and half dressed. He was a lot of things but taking advantage of a drunk girl wasn’t him. He finds your robe hanging in its designated spot, and drapes it across your bare shoulders.

“Sit up a bit,” he instructs. With great effort you sit up, almost falling backwards but Eddie catches you, careful of his hand placements not wanting to graze you in your inebriated state. He helps you sit and you put your arms through the holes of the robe. He reaches gently around your middle to tie it. Putting delicate pressure on your back as he leans you forward towards the toilet. You hum with satisfaction as your face feels the cool plastic of the toilet seat. Fighting the urge to rub your back.

“I’m dying, you can have the house when I’m gone, scatter my ashes in the rose bushes out back.” You say with a whine. Groaning as your stomach churns again, puking up more and more of the mixed alcohol you drank earlier in the night.

“Need some water?” Eddie guesses.

You nod your head, feeling like it weighs a hundred pounds you set it back down.

He leaves and comes back from the kitchen with a glass of water, swirly straw included. Tapping your shoulder he hands you the Disney cup, taking a long pull from the straw, you set the cup down on the linoleum floor.

“Thanks.”

“Agh, you’ll be alright. The porcelain Gods and I are great friends— well we used to be back in high school. I haven’t prayed to them in a while,” he says with a chuckle. Sliding down against the wall behind you, sitting on the cold floor.

“Don’t forget the time you and Kev ate those shrooms and puked all night in the basement of our house.” You mutter, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and flushing the toilet.

That was a night Eddie would never forget, he was only sixteen, and he somehow scored some homemade brownies and shrooms from one of the seniors. Being young and dumb, him and Eyeball each ate three brownies and an entire bag of shrooms. The high was insane, but the aftermath was death. He hasn’t touched shrooms since.

“Shit,” Eddie exclaims, “how old were you? Ten?”

“ ‘leven,” you say, holding your elbows on the toilet seat and your head in your palms, “old enough to know you and Kev didn’t magically get the flu at the same time.”

“Man we were dumb,” he says with a laugh, rubbing his chin with his hand.

“Were?” you say slyly.

“Easy, I’m not the one who can’t hold their liquor, Princess.”

“Oh Jesus please no more mention of it or I will barf—again.”

He stands to leave, laughing and stretching his arms out over his head as a small yawn escapes him. Exhausted from the day's events: work, concert, threesome— ain’t no way he’d be up before noon tomorrow— you either.

“Think I’m gonna go to bed, you going to be okay?”

Sitting up and looking at Eddie for the first time tonight, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re drunk, but it’s almost as if it’s the very first time you’ve seen him. His amber colored eyes are surrounded by a forest of black eyelashes, his mop of curly hair hanging in them slightly, smooth pink lips, surprisingly full, a sharp jaw with a days worth of stubble, his veiny neck dances as he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His shoulders are thick snaking down to muscled forearms, veins protruding from them, his hands are easily double the size of yours, thick fingers adorned with the same chunky stupid rings he’s worn forever. His broad chest stretches across his ribs, nipples pierced since the 80’s. He stands with confidence. His slender waist with the tiniest patch of hair ducking into the gray waistband of his hanes boxer briefs. And the prettiest alabaster skin peeking out from his collection of black tattoos.

Mouth suddenly dry, you stutter, “I—I’m done throwing up, gonna go to my bed.”

You stand on Bambi’s legs, hitting the wall hard with your shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie laughs and scoops you up making sure he’s holding under your bent knees and around your upper arms. He carries you to your bed, his skin burning hot against your cheek. He lays you down, throwing the blankets over your head for good measure, trying like hell to ignore the flutter in his stomach as you huff and pout pulling your eyebrows inward and frowning as you place your blankets to your liking.

“Get some sleep Tooty.” Eddie says all too softly. Pushing your cute sleepy face from his mind, rocking back on his heels as he starts to leave your room.

“Eddie?” You call after him, your small voice ripping through him like a knife. “Thank you, seriously. For everything.”

Shaking his head back and forth, his wild hair flows like a curtain around him in the dark as he leaves your room, “you owe me,” he says with a small grin, shutting the door behind him.

////

SEE YOU IN VOLUME: V

[volume: 5]

putting random symbols in hopes that read more will eat this instead of the last paragraph 😩

#eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Text

Modern AU Buggy X Reader

Buggy x GnReader

Just fluffy Headcanon!

• Buggy is the leader of a budget theater group that he spends nights writing or getting his people to practice for local shows- during the day however he has his own Boat Charter company and a second business of a delivery company.

• Has Rhinophyma and Roseaca which is why his nose is so large and red. Hates it and has been to so many dermatologist to get it fixed- but due to blood flow and other things will have it for life.

• Has a deep anger towards his half brother Shanks- He feels like their mentor Gol D Roger's who owned a large shipping company when he died it should have been Shanks who owned the shop to keep the legacy alive. Buggy would have been willing to follow Shanks if he did this since he knew he cohldnt- But Shanks ended up just leaving town and Buggy trying to keep it together before it finally went belly up.

• Secretly wanted to be an actor but never got the chops for it due to his nose-

• When you first meet Buggy its at one of the plays, it's a fun improve night. While not many people are there you go with some friends since you found the tickets online.

• You're one of the few people that actually play along with the act and seem to be enjoying themselves. Instead of half drunk college students that got the tickets off groupon-

• He has you come down to the stage and does a whole improve act with you, Being such a good sport you end up helping him get the crowd more engaged.

• Buggy invites you to do shows with him which you agree to. Hum giving you his number in exchange

• Showing up every Thursday to the improv nights and you start becoming friends with his theater group. Noticing how Buggy seemed much happier as you got along with everyone-

• After a few months he works up the courage to ask you out on a date, which you gladly accept.

• At first he tries to take you to the most expensive places but when you express he doesn't have to spend money to show he lives you- He gets more creative and thoughtful.

• Walks through the beach, coffee dates, going to musicals together.

• His favorite are movie nights, He will show off his limited cooking skills aka Hot Dogs and a assortment of junk food while the two of you watch mostly terrible F Tier movies together.

- "Which one did you find?" You call out from the kitchen getting some soda for yourself and Buggy.

"It's called Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter {OP note: This is a real movie- absolutely awful}" Buggy yelled out, laughing at just the name as you jump onto the big couch and hand him his drink as he eats some chips.

"That sounds absolutely awful" You say, looking at the cheap movie cover and reading the back with a snort. Buggy nods, patting himself on the back for finding such garbage.

"It truly is, I've outdone myself" He says proudly before the two of you start the terrible adventure. Having to pause the movie at times for laughing so damn hard-

"This is so bad!" You say as you laugh and roll on the floor- Buggy no better. However he wiped the tears from his eyes as he caught his breath.

"While we can laugh at least he made a movie-" He pointed out with a shrug, you sitting next to him and raising a eyebrow at the oddly kind words from Buggy.

"What do you mean?"

"I always wanted to make a movie- But I doubt anyone would watch them.. they barely watch my shows" He muttered, his insecurities getting to him as he subconsciously touched his nose. You reaching over and grabbing his hand quickly, kissing his lips to snap him from his terrible thoughts.

"What are you talking about?! I think your shows are great and I know you'd do a fantastic job making a movie!" You proclaimed loudly with a smile, your Boyfriend turning and staring hard at you.

He stares at you- like youd said the craziest thing ever. You feeling a creep of worry going up your back at how he was looking at you

"What is your ring size?" He finally ask and gestures to your ring finger making you blush deeply red.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #modern buggy #buggy thoughts #op buggy #buggy headcanons

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crippleprophet · 7 months

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rules of engagement before we begin: do not seek the original post out to interact with it negatively or harass op in any way. if i find out about anybody doing that sort of shit i’ll block them so quick it’ll be the fastest i’ve moved all year. ok thx here we go

[image description: three screenshots of a post with the username blacked out. the introductory & closing paragraphs are as follows, & the bullet points will be listed within the body of this post. the introduction reads:

nobody warns you this but addiction happens without you noticing and one of the first things that it attacks is your ability to care. if you find yourself using recreational drugs every day, stop and take one day a week sober. if you struggle with this or if you don't see the point of the exercise, you are likely already addicted and you need help.

nobody ever taught me the warning signs for drug addiction, only that "it costs lots of money and destroys your life!!!1" which is not helpful if you can't recognize a developing addiction in yourself. so here's some things to watch out for with recreational drug use.

the conclusion reads: yes this applies to weed. weed is a drug and you can get addicted to it like any other substance. addiction is not the same as physical dependence; it is psychological and it can happen to anyone. you are not immune to addiction. end image description.]

now! fundamentally why i will never align with this kind of perspective is that i affirm addiction as a social construct, like all so-called mental illnesses, & the psychiatric institution which invents & reifies them as a fucking sham.

answer quickly:

what substances is it possible for one to become addicted to? does this include caffeine? why or why not?

is the claim of sugar addiction legitimate or anti-fat pseudoscience? what, if anything, differentiates this from other addiction science?

what is the harm of the so-called opioid epidemic: access to a safe supply of narcotics, or the lack thereof?

can an autistic person who eats the same dinner every night, for example, be said to be “psychologically addicted” to it if they have a meltdown & subsequent ongoing distress + disinterest in food when it is discontinued?

can you be addicted to psychiatric medication? immunosuppressants? why or why not?

my point is less that these behaviors are not indicative of addiction but rather that that wouldn’t inherently make them harmful. fuck it, let’s take it point by point!

planning your day around drugs e.g "i'll give myself an extra half hour before heading out so i can get high first"

this whole post had me asking “literally what is the problem with this,” starting with this first bullet! why does someone need to leave for the grocery store at 5:30 instead of 6, or whatever? and the other recurring theme: what happens if you replace “drugs” with “pain management”? (chronic pain is not the only valid reason to get high—all reasons for drug use are equally value-neutral—but it certainly still is one.) “i’ll give myself an extra half hour before heading out for my pain management to start working” is the kind of calculation familiar to most people with chronic pain. “stop and take one day a week without pain management” is not a test of whether you “need help,” it’s torture.

now, disregarding one’s priorities or commitments to other people in favor of drugs can happen, & in many circumstances it’s harmful to the other people impacted. that’s not what was said here, & stopping that behavior does not require getting sober.

rapidly switching emotions around drugs. you love them but you hate that you love them so much. you hate the way you feel on them but you hate being sober. feeling guilty after using even when you didn't give a crap beforehand.

do you know what else i love but hate that i love, what else i hate using? my fucking bed. three years ago, my mobility scooter. this is not a logical argument, this is a bullshit argument. my feelings about something do not inherently reflect its harm to others – or to myself, even, though i firmly argue for the right to make “self-harmful” decisions regardless.

you know what people hate being on but hate worse being off? the vast fucking majority of medications.

why might a drug user start to feel guilty when they previously didn’t? being shamed by friends, family, or a fucking tumblr post; surpassing a constructed threshold of “acceptable” use they didn’t know they’d internalized; experiencing new or greater access issues; beginning to probe their morality around drugs & unpack things they were taught; experiencing consequences of criminalization; getting triggered.

caring less about spending money. if you are budgeting for drugs like they are food, you are likely prioritizing them more than is healthy.

“if you are budgeting for pain management like it’s as important as food, you are likely prioritizing it more than is healthy.” health is absolutely useless as a value for me anyway, but: the food’s no good if i’m too nauseous or too dead to eat it.

prioritizing drugs over other people’s financial needs is harmful! this wouldn’t happen if food & drugs were provided to people; some people wouldn’t need as many drugs if their needs were met otherwise; people’s needs being met shouldn’t be dependent on their parent / partner / self not using drugs; this harm is not what the bullet says.

getting high to do household chores and other unpleasant things because it would suck less and be more bearable on drugs

“things should suck. because god wills it i said so.”

feeling anxious or restless while sober, not knowing what to do with oneself, feeling lost or ungrounded.

again just. what’s the problem with that. so what if being sober sucks or is boring or stressful or demanding. so what if someone decides to deal with that sober or decides to use more because of that. who gives a shit.

thinking about doing drugs constantly even while sober. maybe it's the first thing you think of when you wake up. maybe when you're bored or otherwise have free time, drugs are one of the first things you can think of to occupy yourself with.

“thinking about getting better pain management constantly when you’re in pain”

i feel like you’re gonna tell me the only thing that can really take my pain away is jesus

again like. what is the problem with doing drugs because you’re bored. why do i need to occupy myself, what, fucking productively?

going to work or school while under the influence, especially if it happens regularly and if you're seeing your performance suffer as a result.

what’s wrong with going to school high. derailing a class discussion is a dick move, maybe, but that’s not inherent to being high. work & performance are both very broad terms – a surgeon or someone operating heavy machinery not being sober is putting others at risk of harm in a way a cashier is not.

the idea of taking a 'tolerance break' sounds good to you until it's actually break time, at which point you can come up with 20 very reasonable sounding points to explain why it wouldn't benefit you actually and you should just keep doing drugs regardless.

y’all think this is incredibly circular logic too right? “drugs are bad, so telling yourself drugs are not bad is proof that they’re bad.” took me right back to the sunday school classroom and i wish i was fucking exaggerating. it’s an argument founded upon the inherent wrongness of trusting yourself – what you want to do must be wrong because you want it. this is one of the points that’s a more solid indicator of, like, “congrats! you’re now in circumstances doctors are salivating to psychiatrize as XYZ Use Disorder,” but that doesn’t make it any less nonsense as a moral argument.

even if you succeed at quitting the drug, you keep your dealer's number on your phone "just in case"

so what. what’s wrong with giving yourself the continual autonomy to choose whether or not to do drugs. what’s wrong with quitting drugs for a while and starting using again.

you pretend to be sober when you aren't. you worry about other people noticing how much time you spend high. you make efforts to hide your drug use or minimize how much other people think you're using. you're scared of other people's judgement if they were to find out.

this one might be the most ludicrous to me, which is really saying something. “if other people being bigoted towards drug users makes you pretend to use less than you do, that’s your fault & not theirs.” cool! thanks for the quick heads up to not believe a word you say!

you have mood swings laced with self-hatred, regret, financial worries, and guilt. these mood swings are then very quickly wiped away by feelings of "but it doesn't matter, i can do what i want, and clearly i'm doing just fine while using drugs frequently". news flash, if you are rapidly switching between feeling numb-ok and hating yourself more than anything because of your drug use, you are mentally ill.

again, “the norm knows you better than you know yourself, you can’t listen to yourself, the body is wrong, wanting is wrong, pleasure is wrong, you are wrong wrong wrong.” but god, what a beautiful example of how oppression is psychiatrized: it’s not enough for the oppression to have worked, the system must then convince us that the effects of it working are our own fault. it’s not enough to just kill us with us fully aware of the knife, it’s gotta convince us we’re bleeding out for no reason. if you want any moments of pleasure during your miserable godforsaken little life you’d better put your nose back on the goddamn grindstone and repent. everything around you for your entire life has told you to hate yourself for your drug use but if the combined force of that violence works you are mentally ill, and that is the worst crime of all.

according to this post, when is it okay to use drugs, then? well, not planned into your day, and not at work or school, but not when you’re bored or have been thinking about it too much, and not if anyone who’d judge you or you don’t trust knowing you’re high or you just don’t want knowing is around, and not if you don’t want to quit, but also not if you’ve quit already. you have to hate your drug use otherwise that’s proof it’s attacked your ability to care but hating your drug use is proof you should stop. #JustSayNo

#& yes i wrote this stoned #substance use #drug use #addiction #drugs #long post #stigma #mac.txt

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gigislesbo · 8 months

Text

↳ lipgloss || op luffy fic

╴ sucking luffy’s cock with your favorite plumping lipgloss is something you’ve always wanted to try, thankfully he gave you that opportunity by misbehaving.

╴word count: 1.7k

╴pairing/dynamic: top!reader , bottom!luffy

╴content warning: smut like barely any plot, female prns, made with afab body in mind, use of mommy, cussing, handjob, blowjob, degrading/praising, body worship (kinda?), bondage (handcuffs), btw this is a punishment for luffy

╴ib: @tinfairies (this one) <3

╴a/n: english isn’t my first language so if there’s grammar errors i apologize. literally hated my luffy fic so have this one as an apology 😭. enjoy!!

↳ LUFFY

"Say it, Luffy, say what you did wrong." You say this as you run your fingers slowly and lightly down his cock, making sure he knows this is his punishment. "nothing!" Luffy whispered; he knew what he did was wrong, but he refused to say it out loud.

"Hmm, are you sure?" You look at him slightly with a smirk on your face, completely stopping your movements and causing Luffy to whine. "Mommy, stop, tying me up is one thing, but not touching me is pure torture." He mumbles, exaggerating about the cuffs around his wrists. "If you want mommy to touch you so badly, you gotta tell me what you did wrong." You say with a snicker, after all, your poor baby is so needy for you. "Fine." Luffy stops for a moment before continuing, "I touched myself without your permission."

"That’s a good boy for telling mommy. Do you want your prize now?" You tweak your head to the side with a small smile on your face. "yes.. mommy! Want a treat." After hearing Luffy’s cute way of asking for a treat, you finally decided to give him it.

You start by taking your fingers once more and trailing them up and down his cock. You continue this for a few more minutes, watching how your finger tips softly pleasure Luffy’s cock. At the same time, you’re making sure every part of his body gets the same amount of treatment.

When you finally stop to look at Luffy, you notice his eyes rolled back, loving how you’re treating him.

At this point in time, Luffy's cock is just dripping with cumin. You smile, lifting one hand up to touch it. You slowly take your fingertips and trace it around the head of his penis, spreading his cum across it. just how you like it, but your focus was suddenly interrupted by Luffy’s plea, "Mommy.. f-f-fuck! Please, hurry."

This only caused you to smirk. "Mommy doesn’t take orders from someone who was being a naughty slut. Maybe next time you’ll listen." Luffy's face soon became red; he was flustered by your words. He knew you were being serious; if he decided to talk back, he wouldn’t get what he wanted the most, so he shut up.

At the sight of him becoming red, you finally decided to take things up a notch. Maybe it was because of his plea after all, but you’d never let him know that. In all honesty, you liked seeing him like this.

You start by fully grasping his shaft with both of your hands, making sure you are close to his balls while your index finger is at his tip. You then decided to start stroking him up and down while using your thumb to pleasure the top of his dick. "Mommy, too good! k-keep…goin’ please!" He moans as he feels your pace fasten.

He loves your attention and how you pay attention to every single one of his needs. "Kay’ baby, I'll keep going; just remember, I won’t stop till I want to." You chuckle, fastening your pace once again, while making sure the most sensitive spots of his are treated with the utmost care.

"M-mm! go-gonna.. cum," he says with a bit of a struggle to get the proper words out. "My little slut is already about to cum? I haven’t gotten to the best part yet! I still have to play with your pretty balls so I can watch you whine and cry for more." You say it with a teasing tone, waiting for a response, and the one you got made you feel so good. "Yes, mommy," at the sound of the affirmation, you decided it’s time for you to get to your favorite part.

You take one of your moving hands off his shaft and go straight to his balls. Once your hand reached it, you decided to gently fondle them; grabbing, releasing, and rubbing were how you did it consistently over the past few minutes, making sure to alternate between each ball. "f-fuck mommy. wanna.. cum! please mommy." Luffy mewled almost high off this pleasure especially from the way your hand was going up and down his shaft, along with the way you treated his balls. He couldn’t take it much longer; I mean he was a shaking mess.

His wrists were shaking so much that you could hear the sound of metal cuffs bouncing off the walls. You couldn’t help but notice all these tiny things and want to give him the opportunity to release them, and so you did. "Kay’ baby, cum for mommy." You lean into him and whisper that into his ear, making sure he knows he has your permission, and before you know it, he’s cummimg everywhere.

"That’s a good boy. Mommy’s so proud of you; just seeing your wrists tied up with cum all over your stomach makes me excited for what I’m gonna do next. I mean my baby has such a pretty body that I’m sure he can handle it well!"and once again, Luffy groaned as the praises went to his head. And that’s when you knew it was time for his actual punishment.

You spread his legs and stare, looking at how hard he is once again from you just forcing him to do what you wanted. "Be a good slut and stay still for me, okay? going to make you feel something you never have before." You gave him a small smile while watching as he nodded.

Now is the chance. You started by giving kisses to his dick, making sure your favorite pumping lipgloss made contact with him.

This caused him to mumble in pleasure, and his brain turned into mush because of the sensation. "More, more, wan’… more." is the only thing Luffy could manage to mumble as you leaned minutely forward, giving him small kittenish licks to his tip.

While you were doing that, he continued to release more precum, which you decided to treat yourself to too. To you, his salty-flavored precum was a treat—you got to taste his own distinct flavor, and it was one he’d only share with you.

"Keep going, mommy," he panted, gasping when you finally pressed the tip of your tongue into his sensitive nerves that surrounded his crown.

“Mmmm, v-very good.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The beautiful boy above you was praising you for pleasing him correctly.

Finally picking up the speed, you flicked your tongue across his slit before sliding it between your lips, taking him into your mouth. Once again, the lipgloss makes a stinging sensation. The dark-haired boy moaned softly when you sucked at it as your thumb stroked the side of Luffy’s cock.

Your mouth was perfect; everything about how you gave him a blowjob was just too good to be true. "Mo-mommy, Oh, fuck! Wait a minute—st-stop!" Luffed yelled, trying to get the cuffs on his wrists so he could throat-fuck you.

The reason for this was because you had taken him deeper in your mouth and hollowed his cheeks; the suction he felt made him feel crazy.

At the word stop, you did, but not for long. You decided to backtrack by running your tongue over the head again and again, memorizing how Luffy’s voice would hitch every time.

"gon…mmm…go-gonna cum!" Luffy said once again, and at the sound of that, you just hummed, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure.

You weren’t done yet, though. You decided to feel his throat, hallowing out your mouth as you went up and down, causing him to shake.

From that, you knew he was going to cum at any second. Slowly taking his dick out of your mouth, you stuck your mouth open and your tongue out, slowly putting your hands on Luffy's dick, moving up and down.

That was all it took for Luffy to cum—you caught the first droplets of cum. You then stroked him faster, causing him to gasp as another wave of cum splattered across your face and directly into your mouth.

"Sorry, mommy..." was the only words that came out of his mouth because all the other sounds were just moaning.

You swallowed his seed and just smiled, "Nothing to be sorry about, baby. Just make sure not to touch yourself again without my permission" you reminded him just as you were taking off the cuffs.

╴a/n: tumblr kept crashing so like it’s completely different from my actual draft so this is ass but whatever enjoy ig.

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gogogodzilla · 1 month

Note

hiiiii can i request a smut one shot with peeta🥰 anything you’d like. thank you!!!

Dress || Peeta Mellark

peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, slight dirty talk, fingering, mentions of panty stealing, continuation of this post masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩

Effie isn’t lying when she mentions that the Capitol spared no expense for the reception at President Snow’s mansion, although it’s probably pocket change for the Capitol. Humongous parties like this are the norm, after all.

Your engagement ring’s an unfamiliar sensation on your finger but not an unwelcome one. You link your arm with Peeta’s as you explore the mansion. The ceiling of the banquet hall replicates the night sky and reminds you of home. You wonder if any of the Capitol citizens have ever seen the night sky. The lights from the city are usually too bright, and you doubt many have bothered to venture outside of the Capitol.

You walk through the ornate halls, exchanging pleasantries with dignitaries and various guests. As the night wears on you begin to think that your cheeks might cramp up from all the smiling.

It isn’t long before you find where the food is being kept and your mouth waters at the sight. Tables are laden with every kind of dish you could imagine and even more that you’ve never seen in your life line the walls.

“It isn’t fair,” you whisper as you gaze at the various tables.

Peeta turns to you with a barely-masked grim look. “People are starving…” he began but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I know.”

Before you know it, you’re sampling everything you possibly could, determined not to let anything go to waste. It’s no time before your moments of peace with Peeta are ruined by your prep team descending on you. Their drunken babbles mix together, but you do your best to keep up with what they’re saying.

Octavia questions why you aren’t eating and you brush her off with a laugh, claiming to be unable to fit another bite. This causes a chorus of high-pitched laughs to break out amongst your prep team, and you shoot Peeta a confused look which he mirrors.

“No one lets that stop them!” Flavius exclaims as he leads you and Peeta to a table holding thin-stemmed wine glasses filled with a clear liquid.

Peeta picks one up to take a sip, and it’s almost comical how fast every member of your prep team moves to stop him.

“Not here!” Octavia shrieks.

Venia points to doors that lead to the bathroom, “You have to do it in there or you’ll get it all over the floor!”

Peeta looks between the glass and your prep team, quickly putting the pieces together. “You mean this will make me puke?”

You attempt to hide your disgust while your prep team chuckles.

“It’s so you can keep eating. How else would you be able to try everything?” Octavia says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Peeta sets the glass gently back down on the table and holds his arm out to you. “I think it’s time for a dance. My love?”

Peeta leads you onto the dance floor and pulls you into his arms, mimicking the stance of the dance Effie taught you not too long ago. The dances at home are more lively than this, but you appreciate the closeness this one provides.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he murmurs, and his jaw tenses.

You run your fingertips along his shoulder and then give it a reassuring squeeze. “Just one more night, and then we can go home,” you remind softly, a small smile gracing your features as you attempt to comfort him.

He leans his forehead against yours, sighing. “I can’t wait.”

You pull away slightly, eyes flickering to the front pocket of his suit where your panties are safely nestled. He follows your gaze and grins slyly.

“You know, I think there are a few rooms we didn’t explore,” you suggest, looking at the crowd around you. Most people are too busy with their conversations to notice you.

The soft music comes to an end and you give a small curtsy while Peeta bows back. He takes your hand and leads you through the opulent halls of the mansion. Candlelight illuminates your path as you follow him, and a jolt of the thrill of what’s to come runs down your spine.

Your adventure leads you to a nearly empty hallway and Peeta picks a room to peek into. Once satisfied with the apparent emptiness of the room, he pulls you in and shuts the door gently behind you. He spins you around and before you know it, his lips are on yours. You’re quick to deepen the kiss, and he lets out a small groan in response.

You pull away to catch your breath and turn your head to admire the room you’re in. It’s elegantly appointed with plush furnishings and a canopy bed. Peeta takes the opportunity to trail kisses down the side of your neck, and you lean your head to the side to give him more room.

Peeta’s hands begin to wander across your body, caressing any skin he can reach as he nudges you closer to the bed. Your mind is screaming at you to stop this and return to the party, but the ache between your legs proves to be much more persuasive.

The backs of your thighs hit the mattress and you clamber onto the bed as quickly as your dress will allow. Peeta follows you and his lips are back on yours within an instant. You groan into the kiss, already becoming lost in him.

He runs his hands up your legs, pulling your dress up along with it. You nearly forgot how exposed you were the entire night until the cool air of the bedroom hits your dripping heat. Peeta kneels between your legs, and you spare a glance at him. His eyes are half-lidded and his cheeks are flushed and he looks absolutely perfect.

Your eyes dip down to the very obvious tent in his pants and you can’t help but reach for it. He watches as you palm him, occasionally grinding against your hand.

You tentatively reach for the button of his pants and look up at him for permission. With a nod of his head, you pop the button of his trousers and tug the zipper down. Clumsy fingers reach within the waistband of his briefs and free his cock from its confines. Peeta groans as you slowly stroke him.

He drags his fingertips along your thighs, slowly nearing where you need him the most.

You buck your hips unconsciously, desperate for his touch, as you continue to gingerly stroke him.

Peeta slowly, sinfully, circles your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance, earning a mewl from you. He presses a finger inside you, pumping it slowly before adding another one.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head as he touches what feels like the deepest depths of your insides, and your grip loosens on his cock as you get lost in the sensation of him.

He removes his fingers and you whine at the loss, but he quickly satiates you with the drag of his cock through your folds. Your fingers tangle in the bedsheets on either side of you, desperate for something to hold onto.

“So beautiful, my love,” Peeta murmurs as the head of his cock teases your entrance.

“Please, Peeta,” you whine as you grab onto his forearm, the cuff of his suit wrinkling under your grasp.

He chuckles before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “S’okay, my love. I’ll take care of you.”

Slowly, he pushes inside of you and your eyebrows knit together as you focus on taking all of him. You’ve never felt so full in your life, and it was making your head spin.

Your hands slide up to cup Peeta’s face, and his pulse quickens under your fingertips. You tug him closer, longing for his lips on yours.

The kiss is gentle and sweet, much unlike your heated and needy movements moments ago. Slowly, Peeta begins moving his hips and you gasp against him. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, and your cheeks flush.

You pull him impossibly closer as the pace of his thrusts increases and he presses sloppy kisses against the column of your neck. He pins your arms on either side of your head and intertwines your fingers with his.

Peeta rests his head against your shoulder and with every roll of his hips little pants and moans leave him. You wished he would be louder, but you feared you’d be shot on sight if you got caught. Although, it would be a very memorable headline for the evening news.

“You’re so,” he begins but is cut off by both of you moaning as he reaches a particularly sensitive spot within you and you clench against him. “Fuck, my love.”

“Faster,” you whine against him, acutely aware of the amount of time you’ve been gone from your own party.

Peeta ruts deeply within you as he quickens his pace, and the moans that left him cause your cheeks to flush. His head resting on your shoulder allows you to hear every little noise that he makes, and you love every single second of it.

You reach down to where you’re connected and draw hasty circles against your clit, causing the familiar coil inside you to tense. You’re not sure whether it’s the final roll of his hips or your fingers circling your clit just right that throws you over the edge, but you let out a loud moan that Peeta quickly swallows with a kiss.

His hips falter against your own, and Peeta quickly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, and Peeta kneels between your legs as he strokes himself once and then twice before his release coats your inner thighs.

You attempt to catch your breath as you watch Peeta come down from his high. He leans down and captures your lips in his. You smile into the kiss, momentarily forgetting what awaits you outside the bedroom door.

You pull away and cup his face, “We should probably rejoin the party. I think Effie will be looking for us.”

He sighs as he leans into your touch, “It was nice to forget for a moment where we are and why we’re here.”

“It was,” you nod as you lean in for one last kiss. Peeta is quick to oblige you before pulling out his handkerchief and cleaning up the mess the two of you made.

He rights himself before helping you to the edge of the bed, careful of your skirts.

��Do you think people noticed?”

You huff out a laugh, “For the sake of our lives, I hope they were too busy with the food.”

“It’d certainly make our act more convincing,” he grins as he helps you stand. Your legs are a little wobbly and you cling to him.

“You keep making my legs feel like this, and it won’t be an act anymore,” you tease as you both near the door.

He leans down to whisper against the shell of your ear, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

#peeta mellark x reader smut #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark #reader insert #no y/n #zilla answers #thg series #thg #thg peeta #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #catching fire

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performing-personhood · 2 months

Text

I learned a kind of funny thing and I need to tell you bc it's important, cmere. Lean in so the others can't hear okay?

Ok so like

I know that the reason we are the way we are is because at some point we took up some space - as people do - and someone turned to us and went "whoa, excuse you! What do you think you're doing" or something, right? And they were, like, surprised and offended that we took up space and told us to stay real small and subservient? And we were pretty young, you and me, and we didn't really grok Peopling yet and so we assumed that everyone else was going to have that expectation too?

Okay I just learned: that isn't true at all, that person was just an asshole.

Babe. BABE. This is big.

Ok do you realize ??? that most people when they're around someone - anyone, this is important, it's an unconscious reflex and happens rather automatically - and that person is like "I have an opinion and desires and also some needs and I am going to express them openly" Did you realize, because I didn't, that most people completely intuitively go "oh! There's another person here! Lemme just scootch over so they fit better :)" PEOPLE MAKE ROOM FOR YOU.

People don't ignore us, when we're silently having wants and needs and waiting our turn to be noticed, they just have similar very loud brains and have no idea because beung corporeal is Distracting™️. Not only do people just need a reminder that you're there, they're totally happy to accomodate. In a distinctly "ope! My bad, lemme just- here-" sort of way.

My spouse has a loud brain and drowns it out with Mario Kart. I've spent most of my life quietly entertaining myself in all of these instances, because at some point someone told me I was supposed to "go play" and nobody wanted to play with me so I entertained myself right? Okay. Well I recently had a sea change and decided I was gonna pop my headphones in and watch TV on my tablet when he was doing his Mario Karting. Because the boy will easily go for four hours and I just spontaneously realized that it would actually be ridiculous if he got butthurt at me for putting some quiet tv on for myself instead of watching a grown man play the same video game for hours.

You know what happened? Not only did nobody's feelings get hurt, but I have never made it more than twenty minutes into a show before he ends a match and switches the console off. And I have never asked him to do so. When I'm over there doing my own thing with my own TV show like a person instead of just scrolling on my phone trying real hard not to exist, somewhere in his unconscious he goes "there's a whole other human being on the other end of the sofa from me. I want to turn this off and engage with that person!"

Okay do you understand what I am telling you??

When you behave like a human person and treat yourself like a human person, other people also instinctively treat you like a human person and they're happy to be reminded that they get to engage with you. The person in our past that reacted differently and got mad at us for being a person, plainly and simply: they were just being an asshole to us.

The people we love want to engage with us. Almost all of them!!! And not only that?? Most other human beings feel the same way.

Huge. Big huge.

Don't take my word for it baby cakes okay, take a sec and muster up the courage (it'll be scary the first time, but the thinking about it is always scarier than doing it I swear) and then get back out there and practice being your very own human person occupying human people space, around someone who loves you, and just... watch what happens. The first time someone warmly, graciously, voluntarily accommodates you is the greatest feeling a corporeal being can experience, and you deserve it too.

#recovering people pleaser #recovering from abuse #recovering from trauma #recovering codependent #recovering from cptsd #cptsd recovery #actually cptsd #just neurodivergent things #actually neurodivergent #mental illness #things I learned in therapy #therapy works

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months

Note

Hello Clan, I was wondering if you could do the glams (including Bonnie and Foxy) and the daycare attendents learning that a worker reader has hearing aids that are usually hidden by their hair or a hat and that the hearing aid has a sticker themed around them, for example: a lightning bolt for Freddy, a checkered flag for Roxy, a cupcake for Chica, a music note or maybe golf clubs for Monty, a bowling pin for Bonnie, a skull for Foxy, a star for Moon, and a cloud for Sun.

I understand if you can't do all of them

No worries! But I couldn't figure out anything for Foxy, sorry-

I did my best research on writing for characters w/ hearing aids, so if there's anything I missed/got wrong I apologize!

......

Glamrock Freddy

He's seen you around the pizzaplex over the past month, although at times he gets confused when you don't respond to his greetings unless he's standing right in front of you.

But he assumes you're just busy and doesn't mind it much.

When you're assigned as his handler to help him keep up with all the events lined up this week (photo-ops, meet and greets, performances, birthdays, etc.), he finally gets to know you on a more personal level.

One evening, you're removing confetti strips and candy wrappers from his stomach hatch (in summary, the pinata's string got caught in the mechanisms during transport and ripped apart when the hatch opened), briefly removing your hat to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Freddy takes notice of the little devices in/around your ears, and suddenly it all clicks.

"[Y/n], if I may ask...are those your hearing aids?" The curious bear points to his own ears.

"Yep, glad you finally noticed." You chuckled, but he didn't catch your sarcasm.

"My apologies for sounding intrusive. I've just never seen them before."

"Oh you're okay, Freddy. I don't like to make a big deal out of them...unless some guest calls me "deaf" as an insult." You muttered, about to put your hat back on when you notice him still staring at you. "What's up?"

"Are those...blue lightning bolt stickers?" He gasps. "They look just like mine."

"...that's because they are." You smile, turning your head to show him the designs.

His heart is thoroughly touched.

"Aww..you themed them after me? Your favorite bear?" He coos, to which you huff and hide them with your hat.

"Yeah, yeah..I'll admit you're my favorite. Now don't go bragging about it to everyone else."

Roxanne Wolf

Working at the raceway was sometimes sensory hell for you, with your hearing aids constantly absorbing the sounds of noisy karts or screaming kids.

The worst was the construction work.

So you switch them off sometimes when you're busy with a task, as hearing gets tiring--especially in these parts of the pizzaplex.

One day, however, Roxy walked over to ask if you could supervise Cassie's birthday party...only to see you blatantly ignoring her.

She would've been annoyed, had her eyes not seen the aids hidden by your hat/hair.

Oddly enough she never noticed them before...

She just taps your shoulder politely, getting your attention as you turn them back on. "Oh hey, Roxy. What's up?"

She repeats her question, but you still struggle to hear her, so you both go somewhere outside the raceway to talk.

Once you understand what she's asking, you head to the atrium to assist with any final preparations, but along the way she inquires about the aids.

"Oh! There's something I've been meaning to show you." You reveal the checkered flag stickers, surprising the wolf. And you smile at her growing grin. "Yeah, I knew you'd love 'em."

"They're really cool. So I guess you can just..tune out all the ruckus of the raceway whenever you want?"

"It does get overwhelming at times, so yeah..I had them off. Sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you-"

"Nah, I understand now. But listen, if anyone gives you trouble over them, you let me know. Alright?"

"..I will. Thank you, Roxy."

"Of course. It's the least I can do for my favorite human worker." She chuckles.

Glamrock Chica

The incident where Chica's upgraded voicebox horribly malfunctioned would have surely overloaded your already sensitive hearing.

You were supervising her performance, but at the first sign something was wrong you took your aids out and dodged the chaos that followed, leaving to file an incident report.

As a lead tech, however, you're summoned to run diagnostics on her voicebox in parts and services (as apparently nobody else wanted to do it).

You kept your aids off in case things go awry again, but when Chica wakes up, she's 100% convinced that she broke them and you're angry at her.

She was informed that you use them, though she's never actually seen them.

Plus you were closest to her when it happened. If her voice could damage that many STAFF bots...then surely your aids weren't spared, either.

"Well, Chica..the good news is that we don't have to replace any of your speaking components." You explain, not realizing her sadness at first. "But I recommend you don't sing for a while and stick to the guitar. Just to play it safe."

"Oh, okay....I-I'm sorry....I really am..." She sulks in the chair.

"It's not your fault. I kept telling them not to rush the upgrade, but no one ever listens to-"

"BWAK?!!" Then she jumps, surprised. "You can hear me! I-I didn't break them..?"

"Huh? Oh..no, no, no. They're fine, Chica." You reassure her softly. "They're totally fine. See?"

Taking one aid out, you show her the cupcake sticker you put on it in hopes of cheering her up, watching the relieved smile return to her beak.

Montgomery Gator

If any place in the pizzaplex is loud (besides Roxy's Raceway), it's Gator Golf.

Should the ambience or the bass of Monty's instrument be too noisy for your hearing aids to handle, you can easily take them out or switch them off.

You can always hear his voice given how he talks in general, but if he's speaking directly to you, you'll have to put them back on.

The first time this happens, however, he sees them for a split second before they're hidden by your hat/hair and immediately assumes they're earbuds for music.

In his eyes, you suddenly decided to ignore him and he's not happy.

"So that's how it is, huh?" He snarls, already being in a bad mood as is. "I ain't fun to talk to anymore? You'd rather listen to your stupid human music than mine!?"

"Monty, what on earth are you talking about?" You blink in bewilderment. His hostility usually didn't come out of nowhere like this. "I don't have any music in-"

"Then what didja just stick in your ears?!" He points, glaring at you over his glasses.

"..my hearing aids?"

There's a long, awkward pause.

"...y'know, the things that let me hear you?"

"Ohhh..that's what they are? How long have ya had those for?"

"Most of my life." You smile apologetically, seeing him fumble and backtrack whatever he said before. "It's okay, Monty. I should've told you about them before....you wanna see something cool?"

Showing him your aids, he sees the golf club stickers on them and grins, no longer as grumpy as before. "Awh yeah!! Wait....did ya put those there 'cuz you like golf..or me?"

"I chose this design because of you, big guy." You chuckle.

Glamrock Bonnie

You were Bonnie's main handler, so you two have spent nearly every moment of your shift together.

He's been aware of your hearing aids since day one, complimenting the cute little bowling pin stickers you plastered on them and chastising any person who gave you a hard time about wearing them.

Sadly you never got closure on what exactly happened after he went "missing"...only to discover his shattered body stowed behind Bonnie Bowl months later.

He had claw marks inconsistent with what Monty's hands could have possibly done (not that you believed the gator was ever guilty of attacking him despite the rumors).

You fought tooth and nail to get approval from management to repair him, working tirelessly in parts and services--even doing overtime just to bring him back.

When Bonnie finally reactivated after weeks of trial and error, he nearly looked good as new.

Except...he doesn't remember you, and there's corruption in his memory files from the night he left his green room and went into Gator Golf.

He insists he was following somebody's orders, but can't specify anything beyond that.

"I'm sorry..I'm not much help, am I?"

"No, but...I suppose you should know that Monty's taken your place in the band in your absence." You regrettably inform him, seeing how sad he looks. "But if it's any help...you're still my favorite."

Taking off your hat, you show him the now faded bowling pin stickers that remained on your aids, and he stares for a while.

Then you see his eyes flicker with recognition as a smile grows on his face.

"[Y/n]...thank goodness you're still here! I-Is Freddy okay?"

Sun

He's definitely had deaf kids (both with and without hearing aids) come into the daycare, and he tries his best to give them a fun and accommodating experience during their stay.

So right off the bat, he knows you wear aids and often tries communicating with you in sign language.

Whether you're well-versed in that or still learning, you appreciate his efforts.

But you sometimes have to remind him that you can still talk to him as you normally would.

You show him the stickers on your aids--a cloud covering a sun, to be more precise--and he's totally ecstatic.

And I mean "jumping up and down cheering" ecstatic bc now he knows you picked those stickers because of him!! Because he's your favorite!!

Physically he's there but mentally he's the "yippee" autism creature

Sometimes you gotta lower the volume on your aids with how loud he accidentally can be, and he notices this fast.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sorry, sorry!! So sorry!!" He fumbles. "Can I add something to the stickers maybe??? Googly eyes??? Glitter glue to make them shimmer and shine???"

"Thank you, Sun..but they're fine this way." You insist. "I don't want any glue dripping into my ears."

"Right! O-Of course!! We wouldn't want that now, would we? No glitter glue going into your brain!!"

Moon

The lunar animatronic, on the other hand, takes a bit longer to notice your hearing aids (considering how dark the daycare gets during the night cycle, he doesn't notice much).

When he does, he'll ask you some questions.

Like how long you've had them, how well they tune out background noise, etc.

It's all out of genuine curiosity, and you tell him whatever you knew, taking one of the aids out to show it to him.

And only then he examines the star-shaped stickers on them, staring for a while.

At first he automatically assumes they're themed after one of the Glamrocks...until you mentioned how similar they are to the stars on his hat and pants.

Finally, the gears in his mind click together.

"So you're saying....my outfit inspired you when you picked out these stickers?"

"Yep."

"How sweet of you, [y/n]...they look very nice. Glad I could be your muse." He snickers.

You never see it, but he's gonna be gushing over this every time you're working in the daycare now.

None of your coworkers paid any mind to Moon. They usually called him creepy or avoid conversing with him should they absolutely have to cross paths.

But you go out of your way to see him whenever possible; and the stickers are just a subtle yet sweet way of reminding him that he's always gonna be your favorite.

#clanask #anonymous #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf sb x reader #fnaf security breach x reader #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #headcanons #deaf reader #platonic

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mccnstruck · 3 months

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like LIKE you

characters: kazuha x gn!reader

tags: fluff, misunderstanding, more crack, reader is DENSE af, proofread, op was writing this while their crush was right behind them so they apologize if this is incoherent

a/n: @soleillunne ALY !1!!! HIIIII i had so so much fun writing this for kazuha and i hope you have much fun reading it as i did writing it!! this is for @ecrin-de-litterature's kiss don't tell event !! pls reblog and enjoy <3

- When you almost lost yourself in his eyes and hurriedly snapped your head away from him, you knew you were so screwed. - Your racing heart knew. - He’s cute. And he most likely knows that you think he’s cute. - You first saw Kazuha in your literature class when you had to sit next to him. He smiled at you before going back to his own work, thus leaving you both to do your respective duties. - But as the weeks passed and class discussions were more frequent, you found yourself enjoying listening to Kazuha’s discussions on the text presented, sometimes bringing in your own input. - His voice soothed your mind, and your heart clung onto every syllable he had spoken. His eyes sparkled everytime you listened to his thoughts- - Ahem.

You were, inevitably, starting to crush on him.

You walked into class and whispered a quiet prayer to yourself in hopes that you wouldn't reveal anything to him right now.

And plus, Valentine's Day is such a cheesy day to confess! Besides the couples giggling and buying the really good chocolates, and seeing people talk to Kazuha, and noticing how cute he is when he laughs…

You internally smacked your head and chided yourself for the spiraling thoughts and sat in your seat.

Kazuha smiled at you, before he resumed talking with with his friends. His friends snickered and patted his shoulder, before he covered his smile with the back of his hand.

Huh. He never really gets flustered. Did he…

The bell rang, and his friends left the class, yelling out “Good luck!” before closing the door.

Kazuha sat down and smiled at you once more, yet it was filled with excitement. “I’m sorry I didn’t greet you properly.”

You shook your head and smiled back. “It’s fine. Are you doing anything today?”

“For Valentine’s?”

You shook your head.

“I was thinking of confessing to someone today. I’m meeting them by my locker after school.”

“You have a crush?!”

Damnit, you thought.

He laughed, and a soft red tinted his cheeks. “Mhm. I was thinking of sending them a poem with some sweets today.”

He showed you the gift and you internally recoiled. The gift was so unbelievably throughout, with your favorite sweets inside, along with a poem so sweetened the other person would become dizzy with love. It was beautiful, just like the grin on his face.

Your heart shattered, and you wondered what you would do after school if you still had time after crying.

“Kazuha…you put this together so nicely…”

His grin widened, and he put the gift down. “I’m really glad you like it. It gives me a little bit of reassurance.”

The teacher walked into the room, and both of you straighted your chairs to start the class.

“So, because it’s Valentine's Day, we will do an activity…”

Well, thank the teacher for rubbing it into your face.

Class went on for a begrudgingly long time, and the ache in your heart began to grow. Kazuha noticed your solemn expression and brushed your hands together. When you straightened yourself in a panic, you saw his face of concern.

“Are you alright? You look stressed right now.”

“Uh.. yeah. Sorry, I have a project for another class that’s really stressful right now.”

He nodded, and you both resumed your work. The teacher droned on about the analysis of the text and the context of the author’s work, yet you couldn’t really get yourself to focus, not with this heartache that remains.

A thought rushed past your mind. What if this was for you?

You? That’s funny, if it didn’t hurt so much. There’s no point thinking about it anyways.

After some more time, class finally ended, and you packed your bag while Kazuha stood up.

“Ah, I have to head out, I have something urgent to do for a class.”

He put his hand on your shoulder and smiled.

“I hope you finished this project of yours. Just let me know if you need anything, alright?”

You snapped your head back and felt your face burn. “Oh, thank you. I’ll see you later.”

Kazuha left the room and you almost felt yourself succumb to the hot flare that passed your body. Your shoulder, where his hand was, almost felt weak to the touch, and you barely packed up your bag without having a heart attack.

You looked to the floor and saw Kazuha’s gift underneath his desk. Quickly picking it up, you grabbed your bag and said your greeting to the teacher, before leaving the classroom.

It was your free period, and you would finally decide on what to do with Kazuha’s gift. You wouldn’t want him to show up to his confession empty handed, or worse, his crush not show up at all. So, you would wait by his locker and make sure you run out before then. Alright.

Well… it would be alright if it didn’t hurt so much.

And so, classes went on, droning about formulas and equations, and the minutes wouldn’t stop ticking, and your mind wouldn’t stop thinking of who would be the receiver of his gift. When the final bell rang for the day, you took the gift and rushed down the hallways to find his locker.

Except… there’s no one there waiting for him.

A little concerned, you decided to wait to either give it to Kazuha or whoever was waiting for him.

But the minutes had steadily gone by, and you started to worry whether the person even got a message from him.

“Ah…There you are.”

Kazuha’s face beamed as he got closer, and you laughed at the sight of him.

“Here's your gift that you left behind.” You extend your hand to him, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Hm?”

Surprised by his reaction, you were silent as your own eyebrows furrowed.

“This…this isn't yours? Kazuha, are you sure you're in the right mind?”

“That's yours.”

“But, you left it there?! Kazuha, what are you on?”

“Why do you think I left it there?”

Your mind blanked, and you looked at him with panic.

“Kazuha, you left it there. I am here to give it to you.”

Kazuha started laughing and covered his face with his hands.

“You are so… I left it there for you.”

You stayed silent for a second. Then another.

“What?!”

Now that you think of it, Kazuha is never forgetful. And the way he looked at the gift multiple times, and the way he knew of your favorite sweets, and the way he looked at you…

You covered your face in embarrassment, yet your smile grew into a grin.

“You could've told me, Kazuha…”

He took your hands and clasped them in own.

“Well, you are aware now, and I am sure you are aware of what I want to ask, dove.”

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes flickered between him and the gift.

“Hm? Dove?”

You failed to response, as your body was still in shock and in complete utter denial.

You finally spoke.

“Why?”

Kazuha smiled at you and took your intertwined hands to his chest, right where his heart was.

“Well, ask my beating heart. I assure you it beats the syllables of your name every time I see you.”

You swore to every archon that this man right in front of you would somehow be the cause of your death as well.

“So, dove, will you be my valentine?”

mccnstruck

#— kiss (don’t tell) !#astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x gender neutral reader #kaedehara kazuha x you #recovered_literature_!

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nvvacanesworld · 3 months

Text

୨⎯ “credits to @plutism for banner " ⎯୧

second part to my last fic

tw- Angst/Comfort (not for gojo), Toji comes into play, Drinking (we outsideeee), Slight smut (fingering, kissing) i was scared to do to much) Pet names (Sugar, Baby, Ma) Flashbacks of arguing .

After you left you found yourself at a bar. You don’t indulge in drinking often. You stopped some point in your relationship because Sato- or should you say gojo now?

Well Gojo didn’t like it when you would get drunk. He said “It was to much of a hassle to take care of you” and He couldn’t “take care of me when i was sloppy like this”.

You stumbled your way into the kitchen trying not to fall flat on your face. Still trying to be as quiet as possible in fear that you would wake Satoru up.

Your friends had invited you out saying you need to get out of the house, and they haven’t seen you in forever. When you thought about it they didn’t really lie.

You haven’t seen your friends in forever. So you made the decision to go out, and you had a amazing time. You didn’t tell Satoru though, and when you walked further down the hall and saw light illuminating from the kitchen you realized that may have been a mistake.

Tripping into the kitchen you were met with a fuming Gojo.

“Where the fuck where you y/n?”

Silence

That’s what over took the room. To be honest you were scared to speak, you didn’t want to upset him anymore. You were tired of fighting but it’s like you couldn’t escape it no matter what.

“Oh i get it now, can tell just from one look you were out being a slut again getting sloppy drunk”

Now you had to speak up. Because who was he calling a slut?

“Ex-excuse me? who do you think y-ou are? i’m n-ot a slut” You tried to say confidently but due to your intoxication it came out in hiccups. Maybe he was right.

His head fell down looking into the floor and you heard him chuckle.

“This is what i wanted to prevent, this is why i told you to stop drinking, Look at you, you can’t even form a proper sentence right now” He spat “it’s pathetic” if you would’ve just had one more drink and were just a tad bit drunker you might have not cost how he mumbled that under his breathe;but you did.

And you were pissed.

Walking over to him. The best you could. You got in his face pointing your nail in his face. You didn’t miss how he looked taken aback. Probably not thinking you would stand up to him like this right now. But being intoxicated you found confidence. The confidence to put him in his place.

“How d-are you say that to me m-mister, I’m not pathetic, at-least i’m not pathetic as y-ou, i mean who talks to there g-girlfriend like this? So what if i want to have fun? It’s better than being stuck around your b-boring ass all day-” You rambled but was forced to cut short because you were cut off.

Satoru had a look on his face you had never seen before. He look so angry.

Putting his hand on his shoulders it felt like he was trying to push you into the ground with how hard he was gripping them.

“Listen here bitch.”

Woah. Your eyes started to well up with tears. You waited for what he had to say next.

“Don’t ever talk to me like that again. You can’t come in here stumbling over your feet and hiccuping out your words and expect me to pick up the pieces, i’m not your caretaker, if you wanna be a slut and go to bars to drink thats fine but if you do, learn to take care of yourself. It’s to much of a hassle to take care of you when you’re like this y/n”

As you sat at the same bar he would always yell at you for going at, reminiscing about all the times you should’ve left, you didn’t notice someone filling the seat next to you.

“Hey Sugar what’s ‘got you s’upset?”

Turning to the side you were startled to say the least. For one you weren’t expecting anybody to take this seat. This bar wasn’t very popular and was very empty at the moment, the emptiness only being filled by a few regulars. Two, You weren’t expecting to see him again; let alone here.

You weren’t sure if you should open up about your problems to a man you don’t even know. You’re brain was overthinking

Didn’t you see him at the party?

Does he know Geto?

If he does would he go back and tell him he saw me ?

What if Geto tell Gojo?

You’re thoughts were halted when he put his hand on your thigh.

In hopes of getting your attention of course.

“What’s got yer mind so clouded to where ya keep ignoring me? Am i easy to ignore?” He let out a chuckle at his own joke

Getting flustered you tried to look away from him to hide the heat that was rising to your face. But he grabbed your chin stopping you from turning away from him.

“Answer me ma” he said while his eyes locked with yours “What’s got a pretty girl like you so upset, this is twice i’ve seen you sad”

Finally you decided to break your flustered silence

“I’m okay” Looking down at the drink in your hand “Me and Sato- i mean Gojo, Me and Gojo broke up that’s all”

The man whose name you don’t know, yet, just looked at you with a look of pity. The grip he had on you loosening

You began to get nervous.

God did i ruin the mood?

What if he blames me?

I should’ve lied and said i was fine

You went to get up. You couldn’t sit here and vent out your feelings to a stranger. Just when you were pushing your legs to get up the grip he had on your thigh stopped you; tightening again.

Eyes blowing wide you looked at him waiting for him to say something, anything.

“Break ups can be hard, a pretty women like you s’doesn’t deserve that, you deserve t’be happy” He spoke. He had a distant look in his eyes, kinda like he knew my pain. It made me comfortable and my body started to get less tensed.

You decide to expand your thoughts

“Oh wow, um thank you. I mean it was long overdue, i should’ve left that asshole ages ago. I mean he can never even realize when he’s wrong and he’s so mad all the time but then in public he acts like the perfect boyfriend calling me baby and shit. It was so confusing-“ You cut yourself off realizing you were rambling

“God i’m sorry i shouldn’t be venting to a stranger, i don’t even know your name” You whispered the last part not wanting to admit that you wanted to know his name.

But it seems he read your mind

“Toji” He looked at you and smirked being your attention to his lips and the scar that decorated them

“Y/n” You sighed out almost dreamily.

He found the way you said it so cute. He found you so cute. He wanted you to talk to him more.

So that’s what you guys did.

You talked at the bar for an hour or two until the door to the bar chimed and in walked the devil.

Gojo Satoru.

Hot. That’s how your whole body started to feel. You were nervous and getting sweaty.

You need to get out of here you couldn’t comfort him just yet.

It seems he didn’t see you though,Thank god, because he made his way to the booth where he sat with a group of guys and girls.

Oh so you can drink and go to bars but i can’t?

Toji noticed your distress and grabbed your hand. He dragged you into the men’s bathroom.

“Sorry if that was abrupt. I could just tell yer were nervous” He said kinda shy. Different from his confident demeanor you had grown used to.

You sat on the counter looking down at your thighs that were exposed because of the skirt you were wearing.

Toji looked too.

Walking over he stopped infront of you.

“Say sugar, hope ‘bout i try to take yer mind off that jerk” He said in a hushed tone. His arms caging you in, His eyes finding yours.

Just like they have been this whole time

Without speaking you leaned into kiss him. You caught his hint and you didn’t want to waste time. You need this.

You deserve this.

Toji wasted no time kissing you back. Lips over powering yours leading the kiss. He was big. Bigger than you so it was easy for him to overtake you in just about all his movements.

His hands found there way to your hair. He soon yanked it causing you to moan out. Giving him a chance to push his tongue into your mouth.

His lips tasted like whiskey and he smelled like oak. You couldn’t get enough. You needed-

“-More, I need more Toji.”

Not saying a word following your order his hand trailed it’s way up your skirt fingers pressing onto your puffy clit. You were soaked.

Breaking the kiss Toji spoke up.

“Yer panties are soaked through baby. Do you need me this bad? Huh?” it rolled off his tongue. Like he was born to seduce you.

“Yes ngh..yes i do please touch me more”

Diving your face into his neck you started to trail bites and kisses on it. Marking him up as your own.

You were so sexy he thought.

He groaned while throwing his head back so you could get better access. “Fuck”.

You felt him push your panties to the side. He rubbed his fingers up and down your slippery silt. Gathering the wetness on his fingers.

“Taste yourself baby” He brought his fingers to your mouth. You quickly took them in moaning around the soaked digits. Locking eyes with him. It was like your eyes were glowing in the dim lit bathroom. There were like a lantern to him. You reminded him a Siren. Luring him in with your dirty words and Beauty.

He popped his fingers out your mouth and immediately went to dive them into your pussy.

You had to muffle your moan into his neck.

But he wouldn’t allow that.

He wanted that bastard to hear how good he was making you feel. He wanted him to see it too.

Pistoling his fingers in and out of your core you were a moaning mess.

“Let me hear you baby, Let them hear you , Let him hear you”

That made your pussy leak. You felt yourself about to squirt.

He felt it to.

You turned your head to look away but he was quick to stop you. “No no no mama, Don’t look away from me. Let me see those pretty eyes when you squirt on my fingers”

He need to see those eyes while you came. He wanted that memory engraved in his brain forever. You were too much.

“I’m cummin’ i’m gonna-“

The bathroom door flew open.

You couldn’t stop yourself but toji looked over to catch blue eyes staring back at him.

This was the best day ever he thought.

“What the fuck”

You knew that voice. Fuck

Fuck

FUCK.

No you didn’t want him to see you like this.

“Y/n How could yo-“

“How could she what?”

“This is insane just who do you think you are?”

Hiding into Toji’s chest you tired to close your legs but Toji wasn’t having that and kept them open with his own legs.

“Don’t you dare” He said to you forcing you to obey.

“So like i said, How could she what?”

Gojo didn’t want to see this. He was hurt. He always hated just the thought of you with another man.

His chest was heaving

He was starting to lose his composure.

“Listen kid, cause that’s what you are a kid, a boy, because no man would treat a lady the way you did, You lost your chance, I suggest you tuck your dick and get the fuck out of here unless you want trouble” He paused and looked down at you

You were shaking. You just wanted Gojo to leave you alone.

Forever.

“Yer making my baby scared, i cant have that shit.”

Gojo stood there for a second before finally turning around and leaving

Probably the most mature thing he’s done since you’ve met him to be honest.

He was going to be thinking about that forever

He was mad at Toji for talking down on him like that, Mad at you for fucking him, But mostly mad at himself because seeing you with him was a wake up call.

He fucked up and he fucked up bad.

You weren’t gonna come back like all the other times.

It’s like he could feel the connection you guys had when you were together leave when he walked out that room

You weren’t coming back were you?

Back in the bathroom you were dressed up after Toji cleaned you up

The more you thought about it the more you were happy Gojo walked in. It gave him a taste of how you may have felt while you were together

What better way to make your ex boyfriend suffer than to have him watch you cum from another man’s fingers

You looked up at Toji, He was looking right back at you waiting for you to say something.

“Thank you”

“Don’t thank me ma, he needed to be put in his place”

“Yeah but you didn’t have to do that”

Silence took over the two of you

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing, i want to see you again”

You confessed to Toji. He looked stunned but at the same time relieved.

“Thank god you beat me to it, was just about to say that”

You giggled at his words

Yeah you deserve this.

AN- OKAY SO THAT WAS PART TWO i hope you guys enjoyed it. I’m sorry if it seemed rushed at the end i felt like i was taking to long to get it out but i wanted my story to right.

I’m sorry if detail was lacking in some areas let me know what you guys think of this.

reblogs and follows and likes and comments are appreciated and welcome with open arms and legs.

taglist- @multi-fandom-fanfic @username23345 @whereflowerswenttodie @missukiyo @mor-pheus

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