#this is my desk in my room. so i get to see it every day.
Text
domestic headcanons
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)
after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?
the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff
you just need to move yourself over
he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for
it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked
when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up
but there’s so much space?
you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like
you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk
why do the senior managers have so much space?
but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents
because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you
so there’s your clutter for the other side
though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty
a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough
it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway
surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.
frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.
he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on
“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop
“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you
“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”
he will throw a hissy fit
“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”
will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him
you give him a flat “i will be present as well.”
you’re so bloody infuriating
he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop
you look at him. what is he trying to do now?
“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”
normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings
but sometimes you cave and indulge him
this is one of those times
“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”
you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way
well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today
a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes
he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could
if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it
and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.
still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him
the only good thing about them, really
because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like
and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)
or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like
loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all
that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting
you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.
mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.
you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps
this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks
in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays
you show up in his room everyday at around the same time
if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there
you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side
and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before
(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)
whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going
in a very, very slurred, sleepy way
you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”
how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?
good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in
otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you
although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it
then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up
more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you
on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him
it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you
he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(
aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.
odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.
this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence
your spare scarves keep him company
imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him
he makes the connection very quickly
did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans
he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves
a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly
those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly
but they’re friendly to him because they’re you
one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh
and the others will be all around him
will slobber over him 100%
he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him
they will try to eat his hands
but, like, in a not alarming way
hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool
when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go
literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them
when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.
you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again.
then you lower your scarf
you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore
oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea
“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric
you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss
the best part (real)
he snuggles up against your side naturally
you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy
he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house
princess treatment
you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff
“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”
he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”
you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine”
instantly droops like a kicked puppy
he doesn’t even try to hide it
absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking
feels like you’re back to square one all over again
“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.
you glance at him. “displeased?”
“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”
you don’t respond
you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off
he moves on to slapping your face lightly
“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head
surprisingly, you let him
he might also pull on your scarf
and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours
“are you ignoring me…?”
you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”
“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”
“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”
“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”
“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.
eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine#aventurine x reader#ares's voracity pathstrider tales
266 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Only Truth... | Part Four
The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist
John "Bucky" Egan x POW Flight Nurse!Female Reader
The day Stalag VIIA is liberated ought to be one of pure celebration. Unfortunately, fate has other plans in store.
Warnings: Language, Angst, Death, Blood, Brief Battle, Serious Reader Injury [gunshot wound], POW Camp Setting, SS Officers, Mental Health Struggles, References to Christianity, Reader Scars, Hospital Setting, Kissing, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Rating - 18+ ONLY.
Author’s Note: Thank you all ever so much for your patience! At last we come to the end of our tale. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
Word Count: 6267
-------------------------
The morning of Sunday, April 29, 1945, dawned cloudy but bright. The chill of early spring still hung in the air, your breath hanging from your lips as you ducked out into the tent to collect the clean yet still-unfolded laundry that had been awaiting your attention throughout the drama of the rainstorm. You had just managed to tuck it away into your room when Fitzgibbons arrived with a new book for you to read, a more recently published fantasy novel called The Hobbit, though you had other priorities before diving into it.
You had almost gotten away with your clandestine chores, rags folded, and three-quarters of the bandages rolled, when your former surgical technician appeared at your door, knocking on the frame with an admonishing look on his face.
“I see you’re taking it easy on your day off, Ma’am.”
Huffing in irritation at being caught, you shook your head. “I’m off my feet, Fitz, can’t we just call a truce?”
He made a non-committal noise before cracking a grin. “Actually came to ask a favor, so I’m thinking we can come to an agreement. Menzies,” his deliberate mispronunciation of the British Captain’s name made you roll your eyes affectionately, “ordered me to flush a wound using your make-shift tools and honestly, I cannot make heads or tails of what you’ve jerry-rigged.”
Biting back a laugh, you nodded quickly, well aware that your cobbled-together system was more than a little unorthodox and not at all surprised Menzies had not taken the time to ensure Fitzgibbons knew how it worked. “Certainly, let me walk you through it.”
Grabbing the laundry you had thus far folded, you made your way down the hall to collect the items from the supply desk and followed him to the bedside of a new patient. Introducing yourself warmly, you learned the man’s name was Michaels and he hailed from the frigid wilds of Canada.
“Fitz and I are going to use this here to flush that wound, alright?” You nodded to the nasty laceration on his calf, your makeshift instruments cradled in your arms.
“Sounds fine, Ma’am.” He nodded patiently, vowels clipped remarkably short in that efficient Canuck way of speaking.
“Alright so if you take this, Fitz.” You held out a funnel with a piece of tubing secured to it, watching the tech take it carefully.
The mundane calm of the morning was shattered by the sudden hum of an airplane engine, your eyes shooting to meet Fitzgibbons’ sharply moments before the eruption of gunfire.
“Everyone get down!” He shouted and you both lurched into motion to begin helping your patients from their cots onto the wooden planks of the tent platform, abandoning your instruments on Michaels’ cot.
Panic rising as you once again found yourself in a wildly unsafe place while under fire, you urged the men from their beds to get low, presenting smaller targets for the errant bullets that were punching holes through the canvas of the tent every so often. The cacophony outside only increased with the rumble of approaching vehicles – tanks quite possible given the depth of sound that carried across the camp – and you nearly tripped over your own feet in an effort to reach the last two patients who simply could not move on their own.
Heaving one, Sidhu from India, out of his cot and depositing him onto the floor, you were just sliding your arms beneath the shoulders of the last, Hernandez from Texas, when searing heat and pain punched into your side. Your arms and legs gave out beneath you instantly, your body collapsing atop the poor boy still on his cot, both of you gasping for breath. With a grunt of annoyance, you flung a hand back to your hip, eyes widening as your fingertips were quickly covered in a warm, slick fluid.
“M…Ma’am?!” Hernandez warbled from beneath you, watching as you lifted your fingers to inspect just what was going on, his face blanching at the unmistakable scarlet of blood. “Doc?! Medic!! Help!!!” He began to shriek all the words he knew to summon assistance, making you wince at the racket as you forced yourself to roll off him, crashing to the floor in a pile of uncooperative limbs.
Taking a moment to try and catch your breath, pulse rocketing at an alarming rate, you began to realize that no matter how long you lay there, things were not improving. In fact the situation was growing a lot more serious as a deep ache was settling into your right side and you could feel your clothes growing damper with blood by the second. Rolling onto your stomach, you had just begun to feebly pull yourself across the floor of the tent when the racket outside subsided momentarily, Hernandez’s cries summoning several sets of boots to run in your direction.
A great, external cheer erupted in the same moment you were lifted by many hands onto one of the recently vacated cots, Chalmers, Menzies and Fitzgibbons all hovering above you as they yanked at your shirt and pants to get at your wound. The striking similarity between your plight and that of Simms set your teeth on edge, tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden thought that this could really be it. You might very well die here in these filthy, mud-covered clothes while the rest of the camp cheered on outside.
“Keep breathing for me, Nurse. You’ve got an entry and an exit wound, you just stay with us now.” Chalmers barked firmly and you managed a brief nod despite the shakes that seemed to want to rattle your bones. “Fitz go find out if they’ve got a Medic with them – we need sulfa and plasma, and she needs an aid station and surgery.”
“Sir!” He replied before you heard his frantic footfalls leave the tent.
Menzies applied a ruthless amount of pressure to the front and back of your hip and it was all you could do not to wail pathetically at the lances of pain that shot through you. “I know, Nurse, I know. For your own good, now. Why’d you have to go and get yourself shot in the middle of our liberation, hm?”
“Libe.r.ation?” It was difficult to form the word, your mouth clumsy and filled with cotton, head buzzing with adrenaline and pain.
Your heart was beginning to lose its rhythm, stuttering and skipping beats every so often. Your medical training offered a whispered explanation of ‘blood loss’ which did nothing for the suffocating feeling of panic in your chest.
“Looks like your American Army showed up to bring you home, so let’s make sure you can get there alright?” Chalmers added firmly and you nodded again, trying to take deep breaths.
You were so close. They were right there.
What had started as a frigid day seemed to be growing colder, your fingers tips positively icy by the time you heard Fitzgibbons return, giving someone a rundown. The familiarity of it made your heart ache for a simpler time when the two of you were the ones saving people, taking them from danger to safety. Now you were the one in peril, finding it remarkably difficult to keep your eyes open. The unfamiliar face of a young man in an Army helmet came into view before you felt the sting of sulfa on your wounds.
Your left sleeve was rolled up, your nonsensical protests going unheeded as the man began to search for a vein, inserting an IV for the bottle of cheery yellow plasma – the bright color anachronistic to the monochromatic color palette that pervaded the Stalag. Bandages were wrapped tightly around your middle once more and they were just about to lift you, cot and all, when another set of heavy footfalls sounded on the floorboards.
“Jesus christ…angelfish…” Bucky’s voice was unmistakable, though anguished, and you rolled your head to the side to look at him with a weak smile.
“Bucky.” You managed to form his nickname at a volume no more than a whisper, vision narrowing in on his pinched, tight features, the normally rosy hue completely drained from his cheeks.
Suddenly everything tilted and whirled as your cot was hoisted onto the shoulders of Chalmers, Menzies, Fitzgibbons, and the Medic.
“Take the plasma, Egan. Hold it up, keep pace.” Chalmers ordered sharply and the ceiling of the tent began to blur as they rushed out into the daylight, your vision going completely white before all was darkness.
------------
The morning had seemed like any other, crowded around a small campfire trying to keep warm, trading suppositions about the end of the war with Jefferson, when the unmistakable sound of an aircraft engine had broken through the din of the camp.
“Hey Macon, that’s a P-51!” Jefferson had shouted and instantly the entire population was on their feet, cheering on the pilot as he took out on of the guard towers.
Their elation was short lived, the abrupt sound of incoming artillery sending all the prisoners into the dirt as every single German soldier seemed to open fire as one, the camp instantly an active battlefield. Bucky’s eyes strayed to the hospital tent, its canvas walls helplessly pinned between the encroaching American tanks and the defending German guards. They needed to put a stop to this from the inside before any more lives were needlessly lost. Even as this thought crossed his mind, men were falling all around him.
“Fellas! Take out the tower!” Bucky shouted as he ran for the tent where the majority of the Americans were sheltering, seeking out the homemade stars and stripes they had carefully crafted and transported from camp to camp, kept hidden from goons, just for such an occasion.
It took a few tries before Jefferson successfully came up with the flag, passing it to him quickly. Dashing through the chaos of prisoners running hither and thither through the camp, some fleeing, some fighting guards, Bucky was boosted onto the roof of the administration building. The flagpole was less than sturdy as he climbed it but as he removed the Nazi war flag and tossed it to the cheering crowd below, the guns fell quiet. Securing the ragtag American flag, watching the breeze immediately catch and fly it high, an immense feeling of relief wash through him and after taking a moment to celebrate, he pressed his forehead to the hand-hewn timber of the pole to soak in his gratitude for making it this far. Though the ragged appearance of his country’s flag undoubtedly mirrored his own.
As he carefully climbed down the rickety pole, his eyes caught on a somewhat familiar figure running frantically through the crowd toward the gate, moving against the flow of those milling around the yard, celebrating. The man’s shouts carried intermittently on the wind across the crowd and Bucky managed to pick out “Medic,” his heartrate picking up at the word “Nurse.” His stomach dropped when the word “shot” reached his ears.
“Angelfish.” He whispered and quickly scrambled his way off the roof, wincing a little at his rough landing, before he began to shove his own way through the oblivious celebrants towards the hospital.
Skidding to a stop on the threshold of the tent, he was startled to find all the patients cowering beneath their cots while you lay on one of their abandoned beds, a bloody mess surrounded by men frantically trying to save you.
“Jesus christ…angelfish…” He choked out, throat clenching painfully as your head lolled to the side, slightly unfocused eyes meeting his.
“Bucky.” Your faint whisper of his name propelled him forward, a frown settling over his features at the state of your clothes, wanting nothing more than to cover up the expanse of your abdomen and the scar on your arm – you surely hated to have that so prominently on display.
Chalmers’ sudden directive for him to manage the plasma grabbed his attention and he quickly grasped the glass bottle, holding it high as they lifted the entire bed to begin carrying you out of there.
“Just hold on, angelfish.” He rasped, heart lurching painfully as your eyes rolled back in your head, your body going slack.
Running alongside you to the gate despite the way his lungs ached, the crowd mercifully parted before their odd little group. A jeep was waiting with a stretcher strapped to the back, and Bucky watched helplessly as your unsettlingly limp form was transferred from the cot, the bottle of plasma wrenched from his fingers by the Medic before he perched atop your legs. As the vehicle took off, the Lieutenant Colonel of the armored division strode over sternly.
“How the devil did a nurse end up as a POW?” He demanded as Lieutenant Colonel Clark came to stand on Bucky’s right.
Chalmer’s sighed deeply before sharing what he knew of your story, of your arrival back in January including the fact that the Red Cross was informed through the usual process, and how you were housed separately in the hospital. As Fitzgibbons, the very same surgical technician you had earned your burns pulling out of your plane, filled in the rest of your service history, Bucky could only reflect on how little he really knew you. How short his time with you had actually amounted to be. Hell, he would not have even known your squadron number if it was not for that conversation right then.
“What a SNAFU.” The man muttered and Bucky could certainly see the resemblance of the man’s commanding officer, Patton, in him. “Well, let’s get this formal surrender over with so we can get these boys home.”
Clark nodded in return and Bucky shuffled back to sit heavily amongst the men of the 100th, waving off Brady’s look of concern. Watching the salutes and handshakes, he was completely numb, his thoughts miles away with wherever they had taken you, only able to hope against hope that their aid station was of the highest calibre.
Bucky had not resorted to prayer often throughout the war. Sure he had worn a crucifix and crossed himself reflexively when flying into a hail of flak, but conversations with higher beings had never been something he had put much stock in. Faced, now, with this gnawing feeling of helplessness, your very survival in the balance, it seemed like the only tool left at his disposal.
Crammed into the tent that night, shoulder-to-shoulder with his neighbors, he felt rusty and self-conscious as he addressed the god of his childhood Sunday school and fairly begged for you to make it. He stopped short of bargaining his own life away, but barely, before sleep overtook his aching body, the exertions of the day overtaking him.
As he found himself jostling in the back of a transport truck on his way to Paris the next day, handpicked by Lieutenant Colonel Clark to be among the first sent back to England, he could not help but feel as though he was being driven further and further away from you. It was near night by the time they pulled into the base and Bucky took his first warm shower in over a year, changing into a fresh uniform and feeling almost human. They were served white bread that might as well have been cake, with steak and eggs that were too rich for him to endure more than a few bites before he crawled into a remarkably clean bed and slept deeply, exhaustion winning out over his continuous concern for your well being.
Climbing into the belly of a B-17 for the first time in over eighteen months felt awkward and painful, the crew from the 100th consisting of unfamiliar replacements, the space feeling more cramped than it ever had as he wedged himself into the cockpit behind the pilot. The deep-seated terror he had desperately been trying to supress, his fear that Buck had not made it to safety despite their planning and the beating he had taken to distract the guards, surged to the fore of his mind. It competed ruthlessly with his anxiety over whether you were still drawing breath, the fact that he may have to face the truth of losing both of you leaving him silent and withdrawn as the plane took flight.
There was no immediate answer awaiting him at Thorpe Abbotts either, no familiar faces lining the tarmac – not even Lemmons was around, which struck him as unsettlingly odd. Making his way to the CO’s hut, his eyes at last landed on a familiar face as Herrmann emerged from one the equipment sheds.
“Hey Winks! Where is everybody? Guy comes back after a year-and-a-half and no one’s around?” He plastered on a playful smirk as the boy’s face broke out into a grin of astonishment, shaking his hand vigorously as he rushed over.
“Buck took Rosie, Douglass, Croz, and Kenny up on one of those mercy missions they’ve been practicing for, they should be back any time now, sir. Gosh it’s great to see you back here.”
Bucky’s attention immediately snagged on the first name Herrmann mentioned, finding it immensely difficult to continue listening as he exhaled half of the tension that had strangled him all the way across the English Chanel. “Good to be back, Winks. Think you can give me a lift?” He raised an eyebrow, desperate for a moment of levity.
With a quick nod, Herrmann was promptly driving him towards the control tower. The most difficult part of getting up there was making it past all the congratulatory pats and handshakes, but Bucky was able to pull off his surprise, the sound of Cleven’s voice over the radio going a long way to mending some of the deep wounds he was still sporting.
More handshakes and pats-on-the-back awaited him at the hardstand and it finally felt like he was back amongst the familiar faces of these men. He did not miss the way Cleven’s eyes were quietly scrutinizing him, however. The gratingly familiar feeling that his friend was looking right through him was undeniable as he joked and smiled with the boys who had never been imprisoned. Who had not endured the things they had. As the crowd around them thinned out, Bucky turned to watch Cleven pull out one of his toothpicks, sliding it between his molars in a familiar yet long-lost motion.
“So what you been up to since I left?” His friend asked.
Bucky swallowed and shrugged a little walking over to the jeep, Cleven immediately sliding into the passenger’s seat out of habit.
“That terrible, huh?” Cleven muttered and Bucky sighed as the vehicle roared to life.
“Ended up in Moosburg.” He started out slow, with simple facts. “Got a little hurt on the way, so Brady and Hambone took me to the hospital. Turns out there was a Nurse there, POW since January.”
The look of shock on his friend’s face registered in the corner of his eye and Bucky did not have the heart to fully face him.
“The German’s held a woman prisoner?” Cleven shook his head with a sigh of dismay.
“She got shot during the liberation, stray bullet. Medics from the armored division took her and I have no idea if she made it.” Now that he had started telling the story it all just came pouring out of him.
“You care about her more than just on moral grounds.” Cleven stated matter-of-factly and Bucky sighed as he pulled up in front of what used to be their hut.
Who knew if it still was.
“Yes.” He begrudgingly admitted, though his admission was addressed to the steering wheel.
There was a long, drawn-out silence, the incessant chirping of sparrows filling in the gap in conversation and Bucky realized he had not really heard a bird his entire time in captivity. His head snapped sharply to look at Cleven as he suddenly spoke again.
“If anyone can find someone in the chain of evacuation it’ll be Smokey.”
Bucky furrowed his brows a moment before it clicked. “Doc Stover? You think?”
Cleven shrugged. “He’s our best shot I guess.”
“Our…”
“Are you going to drive us to the hospital, or should I?”
A grin pulled at Bucky’s lips as he started the jeep back up and took a sharp U-turn, heading for the base hospital. He pretended not to notice the way his friend’s eyes lingered on the stiff movement of his body as he climbed out of the jeep – he was definitely sore but was most certainly not going to admit to it. The wards were just as populated as they had been in 1943, something he found rather infuriating. It was another feeling he tucked into a neat little package and shoved down to be ignored until a more convenient time. Or perhaps never to be acknowledged again.
Stover was easy to find, dressed in his white coat, just finishing his rounds.
“Majors, what can I do for you?” He gestured for them to follow him into his office and Bucky sank down into a chair heavily, once again ignoring another man’s assessing gaze on him.
“Well it’s an odd request really but…” He trailed off, hesitating as he smoothed his too-long hair, reflecting once again that he needed a proper haircut.
“We’re wondering if you might be able to track someone down for us. Someone who was injured at a camp in Moosburg and evacuated to an aid station.
Stover raised an eyebrow curiously. “One of your fellow POWs?”
“Something like…. well yeah, she is.” Bucky corrected himself midway through, watching the doctor’s eyebrows shoot up dramatically. “Flight Nurse from the 802nd MAES, POW at Moosburg since January of ’45, shot during liberation and taken to the aid station of Patton’s 3rd Army – armored division. Which division I don’t know.”
They watched as Stover quickly grabbed a pen and started jotting down the important details, including your name.
“How bad was she hurt?” Stover asked and Bucky swallowed tightly.
“I didn’t see it happen but there was a gunshot to her stomach somewhere. They got her on plasma quickly.” He added hopefully but Stover’s face remained grim.
“I can’t promise you anything Major Egan, it doesn’t sound particularly hopeful either, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Doc.” He nodded, leveraging himself out of the chair with a barely concealed wince.
“And what do you have going on?” Stover stayed seated, eyeing him expectantly.
Bucky noticed Cleven had not budged either, the bastard. Emptying his lungs with a heavy exhale, Bucky put his hands on his hips and shrugged.
“Couple of broken ribs, I’ll be alright.” He replied nonchalantly.
“And how old are these broken ribs?” Stover prodded and Bucky ignored Cleven’s pointed look up at him.
“Couple weeks, I’m halfway mended, just overdid it getting in the fort to come back.”
Stover rose from behind his desk and opened a cabinet, fetching a bottle and holding it out to him. “Aspirin, to keep you comfortable. Take two every four hours as long as you need. Come back if you run out.”
Bucky accepted the bottle with a nod of thanks, the memory of you scrounging up two rare pills for him in the Stalag flooding back, furrowing his brows. The things you could have done in a place like this with limitless supply.
“Thanks again, Doc.” Cleven’s expression of gratitude pierced through his reminiscing and Bucky nodded quickly, tucking the pills into his pocket before heading out quietly.
Accommodations were procured and there was not much for him to do around base aside from rest and learn how to eat properly once more. It took several days for any news of your condition to reach him, via Stover’s connections, but when the man pulled him into his office on the morning of the May 5, he was stunned to learn that not only were you alive, but that you had been air evacuated to Redgrave Hospital just thirty minutes away from Thorpe Abbotts.
You were safe. You were close.
“Seems they weren’t quite certain what to do with her, but as she serves under the Army Air Force, they sent her to our main hospital.” Bucky realized Stover was still talking and he shot him a warm grin before grasping his hand to shake firmly.
“Well I really appreciate your help, Doc. I’ve gotta…” Bucky glanced over his shoulder at the door, desperate to make his way to you.
“Yeah, go…” He chuckled and shooed him out of his office.
No longer a squadron commander, Bucky technically did not have a jeep of his own to disappear with off base and so he was in the process of grabbing one of the stray bikes outside the control tower when Crosby emerged into the daylight, eyes squinting in fatigue at the brightness.
“Where are you off to Major?”
“Redgrave Hospital!” He replied brightly, watching the younger man blink.
“Sir that’s a good eleven miles, that’s a terrible idea with your ribs.”
Word seemed to have spread fast…
“Take my jeep, I’m not gonna need it today.”
“Croz, you are a lifesaver.” Bucky dropped the bike he had been wrangling to slap him on the back before diving into the jeep allotted for use by the Group Navigator. “I’ll be back!” He shouted, taking off in a spray of dust and gravel.
Turning onto the two-hundred-acre country estate, Redgrave Hospital, consisting of nearly forty Nissen huts, stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the trees and landscaped green. As he pulled up to the headquarters of the hospital, Bucky quickly realized that the staff there were not nearly as excited to see him. In fact, they were downright reluctant to allow him in to visit you, but assured him that while you were ‘heavily medicated and resting’ you were still ‘on the mend.’
While relief still permeated his system, it was a new agony to have you so very close and yet still out of his reach. If they were not going to permit him as a regular visitor, Bucky realized he was going to have to get a lot more creative in order to lay his eyes on you, and until he did, there would be not real peace.
------------
Moments of clarity punctured through the blackness – a blur of trees, the flurry of activity of an aid station, the masked face of a surgeon speaking to you reassuringly, the heartbreakingly familiar interior of a C-47 – but it was not until you were settled in a bed inside a hospital with four walls, windows, and nurses that true cognizance really returned to you. Casting your eyes around the sterile, white space, you noted you were situated at the end of a row and walled off from other patients with a set of privacy screens. The most striking feature of this hospital was the very stern-faced Bucky parked in a chair to the left of your bed.
As you began to stir, his eyes lifted quickly to meet yours, some of the tension easing from his frame. “Have a good rest, angelfish?” he whispered, and you furrowed your brows up at him, so full of questions. “They got you on the good stuff don’t they.” He chuckled fondly, reaching out to brush his fingertips across your cheek tenderly.
“Kick a girl when she’s down, why don’t you.” You sighed, speech slightly slurred from pain medication and the dryness in your mouth, but still capable of using his own lines against him.
His resulting grin contained all the brilliance of the sun and made you look down with a self-satisfied smirk. Your eyes immediately fell on your exposed arms laying atop the blanket, the scarring along your left forearm lain bare for all to see. Jerking your hands back roughly, you clumsily tried to shove them beneath the covers despite the warmth on the ward. Bucky’s gentle tut before his hand came to rest atop yours halted your attempt.
“Shhh, you’re just fine you brave, beautiful woman. Stay right there.” He murmured as he laced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm to rest above the blanket. “You have nothing to hide or be ashamed of.”
Swallowing thickly, you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his. “I think I’ve acquired a few more…” You sighed, the feeling of thick bandages padding your hip acutely registering as you spoke.
“Probably.” He nodded softly. “You also probably saved that boy Hernandez by taking the bullet, so I’d say they were well earned. Besides, they’ll make an excellent target for my mouth one day.”
Your soft smile transformed into a look of disbelief, your free hand rising to whack his shoulder gently. “John Clarence Egan.” You chided half-heartedly and he pressed his face to the side of your head where it lay propped up against several pillows, his heavy exhale ruffling through your hair. “We are in a hospital, and you are making inappropriate jokes.”
“Mmmm.” He hummed in agreement, stroking his thumb against yours affectionately.
“Which hospital is this, anyway?” You asked curiously, finding its curved roof and white walls lacked distinguishing features.
“Redgrave Hospital, you serve in the Army Air Force after all.” He pulled back slightly to answer.
“Redgrave…” you repeated thoughtfully. “Sounds awfully English.”
“Hit the nail on the head, angelfish. We made it.” Bucky’s lips brushed against your temple, and you smiled softly. “Despite our best efforts.” His teasing made you laugh softly, and you shook your head.
“If we’re in England, where’s the King?” You raised an eyebrow expectantly and he smirked, shaking his head.
“No King, unfortunately, but I did bring you this?” He reached behind him, pulling out a newspaper to lay across your lap.
“Victory in Europe.” You read the headline aloud, pausing a moment as the words sunk in before gasping and looking to him wide-eyed. “Truly?”
A look of solemn earnestness overtook his features and he nodded softly. “Truly. German army surrendered yesterday.”
You gulped roughly and looked back to ready to date of May 8, 1945, on the top of the paper – you had lost nearly nine days. You really had been so close, everyone had. And the fact that you were here, and others were not seemed so very arbitrary. Sighing heavily, you squeezed his hand gently.
“By the skin of our teeth.” You murmured thickly, looking up as a nurse shuffled past with a faint nod of acknowledgement before making a sharp about-face to come and check your vitals.
“How’re you feeling?” She asked you and you nodded slowly.
“I’m alright, thank you. Bit foggy but things are the clearest they’ve been in days.”
“I’m going to fetch the Doctor.” The nurse turned to eye Bucky sharply. “You’d best make yourself scarce.” She commented before continuing on her way.
“How on earth did you get in here?” You raised an eyebrow as you came to realize how unusual his presence was.
“Bought my way in with a few bottles of champagne – your flightless comrades are quite friendly if one knows the price.”
You coughed out a laugh as the comment made Nurses sound like some species of bird and his lips twitched into a smile, your eyes unable to look away from the soft, rosy skin of his mouth.
“Hey before you go…”
“Hmmm?” He turned to you, half risen from his chair.
“I don’t have the mental capacity to think of something self-deprecating right now, so can I just get a kiss?” You murmured before pursing your lips shyly.
His face transformed into a warm smile, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as the tips of his ears flushed pink. “I always said you just had to ask, angelfish.”
Echoing his smile, you turned your lips up expectantly as he braced his hand on the pillow beside your head, leaning in to gently brush his lips against yours, drawing a contented sigh from deep beneath your breastbone. Bucky’s lips pressed closer, a tender hum rumbling from his throat just as a sharp cough sounded from the end of the bed and he slowly pulled back with a rueful huff.
“Just checking her breathing, Doc.” Bucky grinned wolfishly as the man raised an eyebrow sharply. “She’s doing great.”
“Hn.” The doctor intoned, clearly unimpressed. “And how are your ribs doing, Major Egan?”
Inhaling sharply, you looked him over quickly, the litany of his injuries flooding back to you from your sub-conscious.
“Much better, thank you Doc. Who knew Smokey was such a gossip. Well, angelfish,” he brushed his knuckles down your cheek, “guess that’s my cue.”
Nodding slowly, wondering who on earth Smokey might be, you watched him leave before your Doctor took over, running through numerous checks with you before discussing the extent of your injury and the surgeries that had been performed to save your life. It was nothing short of remarkable, what they had thrown at you to prevent your death, the conversation a very sobering one. It would be a long road to recovery, and one, it turned out, you would mostly be taking back home in the United States.
After a week or so in Redgrave Hospital, you were deemed fit enough for transport back to the Zone of Interior for convalescence and recovery in a domestic hospital. Though the sympathetic nurses had not seen fit to permit Bucky onto the ward again, they had taken a shakily written note, the loss of strength you had suffered in just over a week was startling, and promised to deliver it to him. The trip via Prestwick to Greenland, then Newfoundland, and ultimately Grenier Field in New Hampshire felt luxurious on the much more spacious C-54. You were admitted to the Station Hospital there to continue your recovery and rehabilitation, enjoying phone calls with your family instead of delayed correspondence for a change.
It took two months for you to be fully back on your feet, back to yourself. The same amount of time, it seemed, for the 100th bomb group to be repatriated stateside. Freshly discharged and clad in a brand-new olive drab dress uniform, proudly bearing your silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia following your promotion and the ribbons from your two purple hearts, you had sweet-talked your way back onto the base. One of the more sympathetic MPs who had heard your story – admittedly there were few in New Hampshire who had not heard your story at this point – had not even protested your request. It seemed that fate saw fit to land Major John Egan in your life a second time, with Grenier Field the destination for his bomb group on their return flight.
Standing in the warm summer breeze, watching the sky for the silhouettes of their planes, it honestly felt odd to be wearing a skirt. The complexity of affixing your stockings to the straps of your garter belt had briefly made you long for the convenience of slacks, but with your properly cut and styled hair and feminine clothing you felt like an entirely new woman as you stood outside on the grass with the ground crew. Would Bucky even recognize you?
At last the distant droning of aircraft engines reached your, and everyone around you’s, ears, the shapes of B-17s multiplying on the horizon before they began to circle in for a landing. Honestly, there were so many of them you briefly doubted you would be able to find him with any manner of efficiency. Clamping a hand over your officer’s cap to hold it in place as a plane taxied onto a nearby hardstand, your eyes began to scan the crowd of men as they filtered past, surely headed for the mess hall or officer’s club. Catch a glimpse of those unmistakable ears, you stepped forward and called out to him.
“John Clarence Egan!”
His head whipped around so fast he nearly took out the man walking beside him.
“Do I really look so different in a skirt that you would walk right by me?” You teased fondly.
“Angelfish!”
His flight bag hit the asphalt with a sickening ‘crunch’ that had you worried for its contents, but the impact of his body against yours drove that thought quickly from your mind. Wrenching his cap from his head he tilted his face to nestle beneath the brim of yours and kiss you soundly. Distantly, you were aware of all manner of cheers and wolf-whistles from his comrades, but you were too busy clutching at his shoulders to truly mind.
“How did you-? What are you-? God, it’s good to see you.” He rambled before pressing his mouth against yours firmly, not even giving you the opportunity to reply.
Laughing brightly into the kiss, you became vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps approaching much nearer and pulled back slowly, smiling fondly as Bucky’s lips made as if to chase yours, but his friend’s question interrupted him.
“You gonna introduce us, John?” A tall blond man with striking blue eyes and a pair of unsettlingly symmetrical facial scars asked sardonically.
Bucky cleared his throat and stepped back, though you noted his arm slid around your waist in a rather proprietary move. You found you did not mind in the least, particularly as your fully healed wound gave no protest of pain whatsoever.
“Angelfish, this Gale Cleven – call him Buck, Robert Rosenthal – Rosie, and Harry Crosby – Croz.” He followed up by introducing you by your full name.
“He give you that nickname, too?” The one he told you to call ‘Buck’ raised an eyebrow and you laughed.
“It’s a long story….”
-------------------------
The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist
Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @luminouslywriting, @softspeirs, @sunny747, @storysimp, @slowsweetlove, @httpsmoon, @buckysegan, @justheretoreadthxxs, @precious-little-scoundrel, @jointherebellion215, @timetowastetime8, @mads-weasley
#john egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#major john egan x reader#john egan x you#john egan fic#john egan imagine#john egan#mota fanfic#masters of the air fanfiction
81 notes
·
View notes
Note
AITA for mocking my math teacher?
a few months ago my school got a new math teacher. this would be fine, if not for the fact that one of the first things she did was ask me (14M) if something was going on at home. along with this, i wad also severely depressed.
not only that, she had told multiple kids that ADHD is not real/that its a myth. my friend (14F, we'll call her c) and i both have adhd, along with many other kids in our class. she just very clearly does not know how to teach neurodivergent kids and it pisses me off every day.
i also had a conversation with her that was like
her: youve been slacking... somethings been off these last few weeks...
me: yeah i did stop taking my adhd meds recently
her: nonono it was a few weeks ago
me: yeah i stopped taking them. a few weeks ago.
her: why?:(
me: well they stopped me from eating so
and she just. walked away😭
so today c and i were sat next to eachother, and c goes to get help with a problem we were both struggling on. c comes back and sits down without a word. a few minutes later, i notice the teacher is basically yelling across the room at c and gaslighting her. telling her that she hadnt said anything about the problem being wrong, blah blah blah.
so a bit later into the class, this teacher comes over to our desk to help me, and says something along the lines of "you guys were talking earlier, you need to focus more ill move you so you can focus better if you dont stop talking" ect ect. c speaks up and says "well its hard for me to focus anywhere" and the teacher just. denies her?? so i say "well we have attention deficit hyperactive disorder so its not really something we can control" and she just kind of. disagrees?? it was weird idk anyways she starts walking away and im mocking her in a low voice which i understand wasnt a great choice but also. she was being a bitch. so she turns around and says "see me after class you two..." like damn okay.
c is also an overachiever so she often goes in for help and a few times shes just been denied help and like ??? you literally offered her help why are you now taking this back
this teacher has also given us a test on the ladt day of the quarter on something that we had been learning for maybe a week or so and it was worth 100 points (tests = 90% of our grade, hw = 10%)
i understand that mocking isnt a great thing to do but this woman has hated me from day one so aita
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
Diva
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wayne got Eddie tickets to see Iron Maiden in Indianapolis with his lovely lady, you. Thing is, Eddie turns into a bit of a diva when getting ready for an event like this. He wants everything to be perfect so he remembers it for the rest of his life. So when you’re ready to go, Eddie can’t find his favourite ring, and all hells breaks loose.
Disclaimers: Swearing, some light touching??
Side Notes: No upside down, no events of season 4. This is my second time writing a random middle of the night thought, not sure if anyone is even going to see this but if you do, thank you! My writing is very amateur so if anyone has any tips please send them my way. Enjoy!
The steam coming from the extremely hot shower was making it hard for you to do your hair in the small bathroom with the even smaller mirror. Constantly having to rub the small towel over the mirror to clear the steam off.
You’re running your fingers through the messy curls on your head mumbling small “mhm”’s while Eddie is behind the shower curtain talking your ear off about how excited he is for tonight.
Wayne had saved up and gotten Eddie two tickets to Iron Maiden’s Somewhere on Tour Tour with WASP also being in attendance, in Indianapolis. He insisted on Wayne coming with him but he denied quickly saying “I damn near have hearin’ loss just from you playin’ their music. I’ll ‘prolly go fully deaf if I hear the real thing. Take ‘yr girl who listens to that ruckus with you, it’s why I got ‘em for ‘ya.”
He called you immediately after Wayne said that. He was rambling so fast due to excitement he had to repeat himself twice for you to understand what he was saying. That was 2 months ago, and today is the day, the man has been bouncing off the walls since you both woke up in his bed this morning.
“I’m telling you. Come tomorrow morning I’m going to have no voice, probably won’t be able to move my neck, maybe a few scrapes and bruises, who the fuck knows!” Eddie says as he finishes up his shower.
“All I want out of this is a cool t-shirt.” You smile even thought he can’t see you. You love how excited Eddie gets for things he loves. Music, dnd, his books, you.
“Oh, I’m going to buy every piece of merchandise that booth has to offer. I’ve been saving since Wayne got these tickets.” It’s true. He has this special box on his desk that he puts money into when he’s saving up for something special.
You finished up your makeup quick and put everything back into your toiletries bag you keep under the sink at Eddie’s. You stay here a lot, you like to have your things with you always.
“Hurry up your shower babe, I’m almost ready and we should hit the road soon so we can check into the hotel and grab a bite to eat before the show.” You say as you put your bag under the sink. You guys were also able to save a little bit to get a hotel room just outside the arena, so you didn’t have to drive home in the middle of the night after rocking out a little too hard.
You stand and put on your skull necklace that was sitting in the jewelry dish you got for Eddie to put his rings in when he showers. The necklace resembles the skull ring Eddie has. When Eddie got the ring it came with a matching necklace as well. Eddie never wore necklaces but his guitar pick, so he just kept it in his room. But when you came along and were always so fascinated with his rings, especially the skull one, he gave you the necklace. Said you’d always have a part of him. He also said “It’s pretty fuckin’ metal on you babe,”
“Yes dear.” Eddie replies in a mocking tone. You snort and head out of the bathroom and into Eddie’s room to get dressed. You have an outfit laid out on his bed next to his laid out outfit, one of his very well loved Iron Maiden t-shirts, black jeans, and one of Eddie’s older leather jackets that doesn’t fit him anymore but fits you like a glove. Eddie’s outfit is an Iron Maiden long sleeve shirt with graphics on the front, sleeves, back, everywhere. Black jeans with rips in the knees and his battle vest with an extra WASP patch added to it.
Eddie comes sauntering in with a towel around his waist and his hair sopping wet.
“Eds. Dry your hair in the bathroom you’re getting water everywhere.” You try to dodge his clumsy movements as his wet curls sway around and cover the surfaces of his room in drops of water.
“My other towel was in here.” He takes it off his desk chair. “My hair looks better when I scrunch it dry with this towel.” He holds it up, then folds his body over to grip his curls with the towel and dry them into place.
“Does the towel have magic hair curling powers?” You giggle and Eddie looks up at you with a smirk, grabs you and starts to shake his head like a dog after a bath, covering you in spots of water.
“God damnit Eddie I just got dressed!” You laugh and try to push him away. He pulls away and laughs as well.
“And you look very nice my love.” He grins “But don’t be a smart ass.” He lightly taps your ass and you stick your tongue out at him.
“Get dressed. We need to go.” You tap your watchless wrist and step out of the room so he can get dressed without distractions. You saunter into the kitchen to grab some soda’s from the fridge you grabbed for the drive up to the city.
“You kids almost ready?” Wayne calls from the living room as he sits in his chair with a beer, watching some sports game.
“I think so, just waiting on your diva of a nephew to finish getting ready-“
“Fuck! Where is it?! Shit!” You both turn your head the direction of Eddie’s room as you both hear him frantically cursing and things flying around his room. “Babe?! Have you seen my ring?!” He calls in a panic.
“Which one Eds?” You call as you’re already walking to the bathroom, Wayne chuckling in the background, and looking in the jewelry dish. Which is empty.
“My skull one!” He calls back. You’re trying to remember if you saw it in there when you grabbed your necklace.
“I dunno, do you remember having it on before your shower?” You walk into his room, which you didn’t think could become more of a disaster.
“Yes? No? Fuck I don’t remember!” He says as he shoves his body under his bed, random items flying from where he’s lying.
“Okay chill out, we’ll find it. And if we don’t, no biggie” You try to reassure him as you also take a look around his room.
“No biggie?! That thing is my lucky charm! Always has been! And now it’s extra lucky because I have it matching with you!” He jolts himself out from under his bed and starts ripping the blankets and pillows off his bed like a madman, a stray pillow hitting you in the process.
“Okay, just- Eds just take a deep breath” You kick the pillow away as it fell at your feet. “When was the last time you saw it?” You stare at him as you watch the gears turn in his head as he thinks.
“Um, shit I don’t know. They’re just like a part of me now I don’t really think about ‘em.” His hand rubs up and down his jaw as he anxiously looks around still. “I did take them off last night when I was fixing the stereo in my van. I had to get my fingers in small places and the rings were getting in the way.” He sighs.
“Okay, I’ll go check your van and you keep checking your room okay? We’ll find it.” You stand on your toes and give his check a quick peck. He looks at you and gives you a little nod, but you can tell he’s not convinced.
You make your way out to Eddie’s van, grabbing his keys on the way out that were hung by the door. You whip open the drivers door and thank whatever god there is that while Eddie was fixing his stereo yesterday, you hung out in the van tidying it up for him, you wanted to spend time with him. But he had things to do, so you made it that you also had things to do.
You check in the centre console, glove box, cupholders, under all the seats, in the door slots, everywhere it feels like. A defeated sigh leaves your lips as you step out of the van and close the door.
“Well?!” Eddie’s voice comes from the trailer, as you look over he’s half hanging out his bedroom window. You just shake your head. “Fuck sake.” he grumbles and slides himself back in his room. When you step back into the trailer, Wayne has now also joined this fun easter egg hunt. He’s on all fours with a flashlight looking under the couch.
“How nicely did Eddie ask you to help?” You snicker as Wayne huffs out a chuckle.
“Not very, but I ain’t gon’ hol’ it against him.” Wayne gets back up on his knees, then uses the arm rest on the couch to stand fully up.
You and Wayne basically tear apart that living room to look while Eddie is still destroying his room. Curses and thumps coming from it as well. Finally you and Wayne just flop yourselves onto the couch.
“Did you try and tell ‘em it’ll be alright if you don’ find it?” Wayne leans forward to grab his fresh beer from the coffee table. You just slowly turn your head to him and raise your eyebrows a little as to say yeah and how do you think THAT went? He chuckles as he brings his beer to his lips.
Eddie comes flying out of his room, the curls he tried to keep at bay are now going every which direction and seem even poofier than usual.
“I’ve looked fucking everywhere and I can’t find it but- HEY!” You and Wayne both look at him at the sudden screech. “Are you guys- What’re you- Why aren’t you looking?!” He throws his hands up in the air.
“We looked everywhere we could. This trailer ain’t that big kid, not many hidin’ places.” Wayne says and Eddie just dramatically sighs and puts his hands on his hips. Very much resembling Steve when he’s giving the kids, or Eddie, a motherly scolding.
“Eddie, dearest, love of my life. We have to go. I know it’s your lucky charm and all, but the night is still going to be amazing, with or without the ring.” You stand to make your way over to him and Eddie puts his hands in the pockets of his vest, probably to grab a smoke and his head shoots up, same with his hand. Lo and behold in his hand, is that god damn ring.
“Yes! I found it! Oh thank god!” He dramatically kisses it and slides it back on his hand.
“You- You didn’t look in the pocket of your vest? Til just now? The vest you wear practically every single day?” You’re in disbelief he didn’t look there sooner. The only reason you didn’t is because you assumed he did.
“Ha uh, no. I guess I didn’t.” His voice drops a few octaves as he gets a little embarrassed at the mess he’s made looking for his ring, when it was in a very obvious spot. You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a small huff and close your eyes.
“Is he still your dearest, love of your life.” Wayne mocks and chuckles behind you guys and Eddie grins at that. You also can’t help but break and laugh as well and look back up at Eddie. Your dearest, love of your life, Eddie.
“Yeah. He is.” You widen your smile and he sends you a wink. “Okay hot shot, we gotta go. Do you one hundred percent have everything?” You say as you head over to the door to start doing up your black converse.
“Yes, wallet.” He slaps his back pocket. “Rings.” Holds both his hands up to show you. “Keys.” He reaches up over you and grabs his keys from the holder on the wall. “My sweetheart.” he pinches your chin and plants a kiss on your lips. You smile into it and kiss him back.
“Weird, I don’t see your guitar strapped to your back, you sure you got your sweetheart?” You smirk at him and he pulls away and gives your cheek a little pinch.
“Smart ass.” He mumbles and you wink.
“Okay lovebirds get outta here or ‘yer gon’ miss ‘yer show.” Wayne grumbles from the couch as he takes another sip of his beer. You pull away from Eddie and give him a small shove.
“He’s right let’s go.” You turn. “Bye Wayne! Thanks again for the tickets!” He just gives you a small wave not looking away from the tv, but he’s got a small smile on his lips.
“Bye Wayne! Thanks again old man!” Eddie calls as he closes the door to the trailer behind you guys. As you round the van Eddie races in front of you and opens the passenger door for you. Kneels, and out stretches his arm to it he van. “M’lday.” He bows his head.
“Oh, you’re going to be an extra kiss ass now aren’t you?” You giggle and get in the van. Eddie rises back up and grins at you.
“Darlin’, you have no idea.” He closes the door and hops in the drivers side.
Let’s just say, after your drive to Indianapolis, Iron Maiden weren’t the only ones who rocked your world that night.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie#is a diva#eddie munson blurb
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pizza delivery girl
higuruma hiromi x reader fic, a bit of smut content (nothing extreme, only kissing, touching and inappropriate dialogues). 🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞
wc: 3,390
Big thanks to my @teatreeoilll for correct spelling and supporting me the entire time. You're the best 💕 This fic would never have been written without you!
He doesn’t even like pizza.
And yet every time he has to do overtime in the dull room he calls an office, all while working cases and overwhelming his mind to the point where he just wants to see the bed, he finds himself thinking of you - the pizza delivery girl - and wondering if he should order another damn pizza. You slip to his mind unannounced once the tiredness takes over and his brain needs stimulation.
Higuruma Hiromi never took himself for a daydreamer, but here he is - imagining scenarios that will never happen with a woman he barely knows.
Ding dong!
Hiromi feels his co-workers' eyes on him when he gets up from his desk, their gazes follow him all the way to the door. As he walks there’s a new spring in his step. It's that time of day.
He opens the door and sees you, the woman who rules his irrational side. You smile at him, freckles clear on your fair skin.
“We meet again,” Hiromi welcomes you, looking at your peach colored hoodie with a print on it that he assumes is the cover of some band’s album.
“I’m starting to think that there’s hidden reason you order from the same place almost every day,” you point out with a smirk. Hiromi likes the way your voice changed over the last few meetings - how it became partly coy and… seductive.
“Well, I'm starting to wonder what are the odds that you're always the one who delivers my orders,” he bites back.
Your smile deepens and with slight shrug you mutter, “Touché.” You hand him over the pizza. “But don’t jump to conclusions. I’m just worried about you”— and your voice lowers to a whisper as you lean closer—“a little birdie told me you’re living here, Higuruma-san.”
Hiromi enjoys the softness in your voice, but for the love of God, don't use this tone when you say his name. You straighten up with a contented smile when you notice him swallow.
“You’re looking more tired every day,” you admit.
It’s not that you're innocent in all this.
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” As you nod the brown hair in your pigtail sways.
“You should take care of yourself before helping others.”
“Tough case,” he tries to shrug it off.
“Yeah, I heard.” Hiromi looks up to see genuine concern in your eyes. Before he can ask, you continue, “I read the papers. You did good job.”
Hiromi wants to say the case it’s far from over, but instead he decides not to; he accepts the compliment with a nod.
“Work goes better on a full stomach,” he says, raising the pizza box to light up the mood. You snort and bite your lower lip.
“Well I’m sure it could go even better if you relieved the pressure here and there.” You massage your shoulders and move them as if you were exhausted. You catch Hiromi a bit off guard with that.
“Well, I”—He rubs his hand over his two-day stubble—“Heh…” He smiles and can’t force himself to look you into eyes, feeling annoying heat spreading over his cheeks.
“No comeback, huh?” He hears you barely holding your laugher. Soon both of you laugh, more or less openly. For a moment Hiromi forgets he's at his office. The burden that weighed upon his mind lately suddenly becomes bearable.
“You know, I was wondering…” He scratches his cheek with a finger. His head is still full of doubts, but the timing feels so right that Hiromi gives in spontaneous impulse.
“About what?” you tilt your head.
“I—” “Excuse me, is this the defense attorney’s office?”
That’s not the right question.
For split of a second Hiromi doesn’t register the man appearing by your side. Then he notices a patch on the man's jacket with the symbol of the courier company.
“Yes, it is,” you say.
“Mr. Higuruma Hiromi?” The man asks and Hiromi confirms with a nod. His eyes are still on you, observing how you smile with what he hopes is some sort of disappointment. You shrug, then wave at him and finally turn away.
Hiromi watches over man’s shoulder how you go down the stairs. One last peek at your ass before the disappointment in his chest slowly builds up. He takes the package, closes the doors and comes back to his desk, too pensive to feel his co-worker's eyes on himself.
“Oh enough already!” Hiromi flinches at the woman's voice. It doesn’t happen often for her to be this angry, especially not at him and not about matters that aren’t work related.
“Why won’t you ask her out already?” She asks, crossing her hands over her chest.
If there’s one thing that Hiromi is grateful for, it’s definitely the ability to keep his cool in stressful situations. Professional habit.
“Why would I?” His voice is drier than when he was thanking the courier for his service.
His co-worker takes a deep breath, then asserts, “Because every time she turns her back you stare at her ass with those sad puppy eyes of yours.”
Is this how criminals feel when they speak to him through the glass windows in the visiting room? Because he definitely feels like one of them caught red-handed.
“There are no puppy eyes. And besides,” he pauses, lacking a counter-argument, “I don’t stare.” It takes one long skeptical gaze to break his façade. “Fine. But I wouldn’t call it staring.”
The co-worker raises her brows.
“Then how would you call it?”
“Admiring?” he mumbles, hoping she doesn’t hear it. His co-worker chuckles from behind her desk. He sighs as he looks at her, and puts the package and pizza box on his desk.
“I don’t think she would decline though.” It was naive of him to assume the conversation was over.
“Don't you have work to do?” He tries to separate himself from her by breaking the line of sight with a book. His tie starts to irritate him, but loosening it up means giving more opening to his co-worker so he lets it choke him.
He hears how her heels knock on the floor as she comes to his desk and lean over to reach the pizza box.
“It’s very unusual to see you like this. I’ve always thought you were a robot when it comes to your personal life,” she takes a piece of margarita.
Hiromi raises eyebrows. The book in his hands drops down.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
She shrugs.
“You know… very, hmm… economical?”
“Nice save,” he mumbles.
Economical was the last word Hiromi would have used describing his personal life. Not after wasting so much money for a food he never eats.
“So, are you going to ask her out?”
“No,” he says but sounds very disappointed. Damn courier.
“Why not?” She frown.
“It’s complicated—”
“Rubbish! You could sell me that crap at the beginning when the both of you were acting like teenagers. Now”— she snorts—“you basically flirt like normal people do on the third date!” she waves her hands, as if trying to convince an invisible witness. “Except you never went out once and it seems that the two of you would rather die than change that…”
His co-worker takes a bite and looks at him, but this time Hiromi’s facade doesn’t break that easy. He only shrugs.
“Ugh! What’s the matter with you?” she snaps at him. “Have made it a mission to complicate everything in your life?”
“Guilty,” he admits without a blink. There’s no point in denying this. “And you can’t do anything about it. We aren’t at court.”
Hiromi watches as she chew in silence.
“You can have all of it.” He moves the box towards her.
“I know,” she answers. “It isn’t the pizza that’s on your mind.” She takes the box and walks back to her desk. Hiromi knows what she's about to say before she opens her mouth, “But with that attitude you never gonna taste that in your lifespan.”
How vulgar…
Hiromi sits on the couch in his dull living room, with a glass in one hand and a remote in another. He flips through channels, staring at the TV without a hint of interest. When exactly did he become the person who comes back to home and has absolutely no idea what to do with himself? Everything feels like an empty time filler at this point.
Click, click, click…
Hiromi maintains a fast pace, his eyes on the screen, but mind barely present. Drama show, reality talk, an okonomiyaki advertisment… “Our national pizza!” Says a lady with her mouth full. Not the best marketing gimmick, he thinks. But yeah… He could go for a pizza. Today someone has interrupted his little tête-à-tête with you, but maybe it isn’t too late to fix it?
Before he can think it through, his hand reaches for the phone and opens the food app on its own. The pizzeria you work at is marked with a star as the only one in his favorites. Hiromi chooses a margarita, pays in advance, and hopes that your boss has forced you to work overtime today.
And then… what remains to be done? Just wait. But this time sitting in his dull living room doesn’t feel awfully boring. Hiromi finally finds a comfortable spot on his couch. He leans back and puts his feet up on the table, feeling strangely relaxed. As if he has found the missing piece of the puzzle. The advertising marathon has finishes and he watches the beginning of unknown romantic comedy. A pleasant drowsiness slowly befuddles him…
Knock knock!
Oh? Is it already time?
Hiromi gets up from the couch, his body feels dizzy at first but with each step towards the doors it gets more and more tense. Dozens of thoughts run through his head as his hand reaches for the door handle. Will that be you? What should he say? He haven’t thought of any opening line… Now, that’s the lawyer everybody needs, right?
Very slowly he presses down onto the handle and opens the door.
“Hello, your pizza- Oh! Hi, Higuruma-san! What a surprise!” Your expression changes from weary to genuinely happy; Hiromi feels your smile deep in his chest. “So you don’t really live in your office, huh?” You try to take a peek over his shoulder.
“I have to come here from time to time. Otherwise they will start imposing rent at my workplace,” he answers, shrugging.
Your whole chest trembles as you laugh, you have the same hoodie you had afternoon with faces of some band on it. Hiromi catches himself at staring for too long at your chest. It draws your attention.
“Do you like this band?” you ask, pulling the hoodie to stretch the fabric, which reveals a bit of your neckline.
Hiromi finally raises his eyes to meet yours.
“I don’t know them,” he says honestly and, given the cheerfulness in your eyes, you seem to be content with this answer.
“Ah, I see,” you slowly nod. “That’s not what interested you.”
“Nothing gets past you, does it?”
He doesn’t feel too embarrassed when you smile like this at him. Maybe his sad puppy eyes come in handy…
“Now that I caught you red-handed I won’t feel bad telling you something like this -” You smirked, “Don’t be upset, but you don’t look like a guy who likes pizza.”
You would think, huh?
“That’s a bit judgmental,” Hiromi says with unusual sensitivity in his voice that immediately puts you in defensive mode.
“Oh, no! I’m sorry!” You raise your hand in apologetic gesture. “It’s just”—you eye him up and down—“I don’t know, I guess it’s the suit. It makes you look…”
“Pompous?” he slips watching you struggle to find the right word.
“No!” you quickly deny. Too quickly. “I mean… well, kinda.” You gave up.
“Ouch.”
Hiromi has never heard you giggle before, but he could definitely get used to it. He couldn’t explain the phenomenon that makes him seek for your reaction - any reactions, really - but the idea of closing the doors right now and not getting more out of you seemed awful.
“Do you ever take it off?” you ask pointing at his loosened tie and wrinkled dress shirt.
I could for you, he thinks to his own surprise.
“Well, I was waiting for the pizza,” he reminds.
“Right. Can’t collect your order in pyjamas.” And you laugh again, which causes a rush of heat in his belly and bellow. Cursed thoughts suddenly take him to very inappropriate places where you tell him about the band printed on your hoodie as you take it off. He wonders what color of bra you wear. The white one would suit you - in his modest opinion.
“You weren’t wrong though.” He breaks himself out of the trance. “I don’t like pizza." After all the orders he made for the past few weeks.
You blink at his words, definitely not as surprised as he thought you were going to be. In fact, your reaction tells him that you knew and have played along this entire time.
“Then why did you order so many of them?” you ask, a soft smile forming on your lips.
“I was ordering you,” he finds himself saying. The moment the first word left his lips, Hiromi felt in his guts it was a bad idea, but the rest of the sentence left his lips anyway, leaving sweet-sour flavor on the top of his tongue.
He watches your eyes widen for a second, and your lips part - then close - then open again as you try to say something back, but your mind can’t find the right words.
Well, this is it then…
A lonely “oh” slips quietly out of your mouth.
Oh?
“Well, you are my last stop today.” Your rosy cheeks rise up as you smile. “Why don’t you invite me in?”
For a moment the world stops.
“Are you sure?” The lower parts of Hiromi call him an idiot, but the lower parts have never been in charge. Biting his tongue wasn’t an option.
Sudden embarrassment takes over as you look sideways and as both of you wonder about the simple “should I or should I not?” You smile and Hiromi smiles as well.
“Do you think my boss can sue me once he finds out that I’ve made him lose a regular customer?” You break the silence. Hiromi watches at the corners of your lips twitch, then raises his eyes at yours.
“Why do you assume I won’t order any more pizza in the future?” You shrug.
“Why would you if you can just call me instead?”
“So you can have nice break at work,” he answers. This is enough to make you burst out laughing.
“I see you've thought everything through carefully.”
“I only try to keep you here as long as I can.”
You make a step towards him, standing on the threshold. Much, much, much closer than usually. Hiromi could smell your perfume, but he mostly focuses on the soft smile you give him.
“Well, can’t deny it isn’t working. Lemme in,” you whisper, fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt as you speak.
Once Hiromi opens the doors wide for you to come in and you cross the threshold, letting the pizza box fall on the ground, making you giggle again. Hiromi presses you against the doors, his hands finally on your waists, fingers tightened to feel you under the fabric of hoodie.
You are the one who closes the gap between your lips. Your smell stupefies Hiromi as you kiss him without hesitation, shamelessly penetrating his mouth with your tongue. Your fingers slide right under his collar, slowly moving around his nape, tickling his skin and sending shivers down his spine. Hiromi feels dizzy from the excess of stimuli.
“Tell me about this band,” he says once you two break away to catch a breath.
“I know only one song…” you mutter, too focused on undoing buttons of his dress shirt to give the song name. “It was an accident. I spotted the hoodie on the sale. L—Liked the color. Later found out it’s them,” you babble.
The feeling of your fingers exploring his bare chest and belly is blend of disconcerting relief and irritation. He waited for this moment for so long that now, when he finally has you, the touch of fingers isn’t enough to meet his expectations.
You place a kiss on his chin but before you can reach higher, Hiromi’s mouth is on your neck. One hand wraps around your waists, pulling you closer to him, yet still not close enough in his opinion. He wishes he could absorb you. He wants to feel the heat coming from your skin and your heartbeat quickening.
The other hand finds your buttcheek and squeezes it hard. The moan that escapes your lips is like long-awaited music in his ear. Hiromi can’t help himself and bites your earlobe to get more reactions out of you. And when that stops being enough, he starts sucking your neck and giving you hickeys while his hands roam freely all over your body, finding their way under the hoodie.
Considering how your fingers have made big mess out of his haircut and how now they dig deep into his shoulders, he assumes he's doing a good job so far.
“These damn legs of yours,” he mumbles into your ear while lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around him.
Hiromi carries you to the couch where he takes off your hoodie together with the work uniform underneath it. Your sports bra is black, and nicely molds itself to your breasts. He can see your perky nipples through the fabric at which his erection grows larger.
You pull him towards you by tugging on his tie. Very soon your bra ends up on the floor as well when Hiromi places himself above you. The way he cups his hands around your breasts, squeezing your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, puts your dirty needs to another level.
“I’ve been waited for so long to feel them,” Hiromi whispers right before your face, a hair's length away from touching your lips. His voice is so quiet you have a problem hearing him. “You’re blushing,” he notices, making you look away and mutter an embarrassed “shatap”.
“Better hurry up and suck them,” you pout at him, you have hard time talking at this point, your throat dry and voice distorted by hoarseness.
Hiromi’s smirk gets bigger.
“It’s nice to know you want it as bad as I do,” he says before leaning over.
DING DONG.
Hiromi opens his eyes. At first he doesn’t even recognize his own apartment, the view from the couch is downright unrealistic. With his swollen eyes he looks for any sign of yours presence, because even if he knows you weren’t here, his mind doesn’t want to give up. Not yet. He can’t help it, his professional tendency to hope for the best and be ready for the worst speaks through him.
But the longer he stares at his empty apartment and the longer he can’t find any part of the clothes that he just took off of you, the more and more the disappointing reality seeps through his mind.
Ding dong…
Oh, right - the doorbell. He looks at the door, then at the bulge in his pants, sighing at the bitter unfinished business. What one pizza delivery girl can do to a man who doesn’t even like pizza…
He slowly gets up, massaging his sore nape that the couch header have gave him as he approaches the door. A doubtful thought on the back on his head whispers to him that he may see you behind it - with your high-tied ponytail, a hoodie and unearthly legs - and that his dream have been prelude to the main event.
Hiromi opens the door and sees the most average looking stranger.
Yeah, he thinks, taking the pizza and mumbling thanks, life isn’t that pretty, is it? He doesn't think about covering himself or even feel embarrassed about it. There’s just pure disappointed in his heart and an annoying tightness in his boxers.
He closes the door. What a shame it wasn’t you.
there is a possibility that a second part will be written. thanks for reading!
#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk smut#jjk x y/n#jjk higuruma#jjk hiromi#jjk higuruma x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#higuruma x reader#hiromi higuruma
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Maid of the Rich
Inspo: sluttsxphobia [I think they abandoned this idea, but I really like it, so I'm stealing it.]
Summary: You were hired as a maid, but the day Miles returns from school, he makes it his mission to make your life a living hell. But one day his idea of you changes, though you wish he'd just continued to hate you
Tw: Mean Miles [Obviously], Miles being creepy
Taglist: @fxchild, @milesfairchild2,
[Make a part 2??]
You groaned as you put the car into park. You did not imagine that this is where your life would be at peak 20; A maid for some snooby rich kids. You turned off the engine and slammed your car door, mumbling under your breath as you walked up to the main doors.
You're met by an older lady who practically gave you a death stare. It wasn't like you wanted to be there either, so you didn't know why she seemed angry. Besides, she was the one who hired you, so she had no right to be upset.
She let you in and showed you around the mansion while explaining to you what you had to do. It was all just small talk and a waste of breath. You already knew what you were supposed to do and you doubted her showing you around will help you remember where everything is. Let's be honest, the place was huge; It'd take you a while to adjust. A part of you was jealous that someone got to live here and enjoy the lavish life of riches- That was until she, the woman showing you around, reminded you to be patient with the kids, because their parents had just died and the eldest had just lost a close companion. Though, the way she said companion made you think she thought the relationship as something else- Something she didn't like.
In your eyes, it seemed she didn't like much of anything. Besides how hard could it be to watch some brats?
---
You slowly walked into the office, before looking around the room. You let out a breath of relief when seeing it was empty. You walked over to a desk and pulled at some cabinets. You were looking for papers on the man who died? You weren't sure what she was, but you needed to know what happened to him.
You groan when seeing the dozens of unmarked papers in the drawers. You hear a noise behind you causing you to freeze. Imagine your surprised when you turned around and their was a teenage boy standing behind you. You practically jumped out of your skin as your nails dug into the desk. The boy was practically hidden in the shadows, which only creeped you out more.
"Who are you?" You finally got out after a while of silence.
"I'm Miles. I live here. Who are you?"
When Mrs. Grose had said 'Kids' you expected young children- Like under the age of 10. But this kid- Teen, Miles, looked like an older teen, maybe a young adult. But, since he was in a school uniform, you assumed he had to be under 18.
"I'm the new maid."
"No shit," He eyes you up and down. "What's your name."
You wanted to give the boy a dirty look, but something in you said that was a bad idea. With his attitude, you could only imagine the two of you wouldn't be getting along. "L/n. My names L/n."
"L/n? That sounds like a last name."
"Good observation."
"What's your first name?"
You ignore him and turn back around towards the desk, fiddling with the papers. Miles glares at your back, annoyed. He takes a step towards you, but you don't pay him any mind. In fact, you turn back around him and pat his shoulder-
"I'll uhh, see ya... Miles." And then you push past him and leave the room.
Oh, yeah, now he was pissed.
---
You could feel his eyes on you. Every move you make, he's watching. It was like he could sense your anxiety about being watch and liked to watch you squirm. You could hear every breath he took and it was starting to get to you.
"You missed a spot."
"What?" You look back at him, confused.
"You. Missed. A. Spot." He points to a spot next to your hand that you had been scrubbing at for a few minutes. It was sticky and stuck to the counter.
You frown at his smirk and rolled your eyes, "Yeah, well, I also wasn't finished."
"I sure hope not, since you did a shitty job."
You felt your fist clench and you took a deep breath, before shaking your head. You grabbed a cleaning bottle before spraying the spot and finally getting it. You smirked and turned to the smartass boy, "There. His majesty now has a clean spot."
He huffs, rolling his eyes, but doesn't respond. You felt satisfied that you had gotten him to shut up. He turns to leave but you quickly call him back.
"Oh, Miles- Uh, just a tiny favor, trying aiming IN the toilet, yeah?"
He frowns deeply, giving you a stinky eye, before tilting his head, "I'll aim on your grave you fucking whore."
You sigh, clicking your tongue, "I'm not to worried. If you can't aim in a toilet, I doubt you'll hit the grave."
"Fuck you, bitch."
"Oh no, the little mean boy called me a bitch. I'm so sad."
"Laugh it up while you can. You won't be here much longer."
You looked at him confused. At first you thought he meant he would get you fired, but a part of you saw it more as a death threat. Though, it was an empty threat, because a part of Miles liked your banter with one another. It was... Nice. Really nice.
---
The garden was nice, much nicer than any place you've ever been. You looked around the many rose bushes that surrounded you. Miss Fairchild seemed to have an eye for pretty flowers. Maybe it was a way to hide the tragedy of the Fairchild family. You sighed, leaning back and pushing your hair out on the fluffy grass. It was so peaceful- Until it wasn't.
"What are you doing?"
You groan when hearing the voice and rubbing your eyes. "You've got to be kidding me," You mumble under your breath.
"Shouldn't you be cleaning? Or something."
"Or something... I'm on break."
"You get breaks?"
"Yeah, it's called Worker's Rights... I think- Well, it's a law."
He walks towards you, before towering over you. He leans his head over you, displeasing you. His face was blocking the sun and right in your line of vision.
"Do you even know what you're talking about."
"Well, I'm working a shitty job for shitty pay, so you tell me if I know anything."
"Shitty job?"
"Yeah, that's what I said. I'm glad you can hear."
"How much do you get paid?" He tilts his head, watching you sit up.
"Enough to come back, I guess. I mean, I haven't quit, so..."
"So, it's not shitty pay."
"I guess not. But no amount of money would make this job bearable."
He doesn't respond and you're thankful. You run a hand through your hair and yawn. You push yourself up and brush off your clothes.
"You should get back to work. Mrs. Grose wouldn't like to see you relaxing. She hates anything fun."
"Yeah, I've noticed..." You turn back towards him, giving him a suspicious look. "You're being weird. Why are you being weird?"
He rubs his chin, giving you a confused look. "Weird? What do you mean?"
"Don't play dumb... You're being nice..."
"Is that illegal?" He asks with an attitude, making you roll your eyes.
"No, but I don't like it. I know you're up to something. I've got my eye on him." You hand gesture the 'I'm watching you' before walking away from him.
---
You kept your eye on the boy, but... Everything was fine. He wasn't ruining your life and wasn't making you feel miserable. In fact, he went out of his way to make your life easier. He'd wash his plate, take out the trash, etc. You wished he'd go back to normal- something you never thought you'd say.
---
Miles stood over your bed, watching you closely. He lightly hums to himself, as he sits on the edge of your bed. He feels it dip, before sighing to himself. You looked so peaceful- Like nothing could hurt you. It was nice to look at. He wanted that; Peace.
His hand felt your body through the blanket. He wished he could touch your bare skin, though this would have to suffice. It wouldn't satisfy him for longer, but for now you were safe.
---
You awoke in the middle of the night feeling strange. You looked around your dark room, but nothing... It's not like you could see though. You hear a bang, causing your eye to turn towards your window. It was just a tree branch. You sigh in relief, before closing your eyes. Doing this, you missed the sound of your door opening and slowly closing.
You didn't sleep for much longer, but this time you were awaken by something more pleasant. It was a nice tune playing throughout the house. You slowly sit up, heading towards the before opening it. You look around the dark halls, deciding to find where the noise was coming from.
You slowly walking down the hall, following the music. You finally stopped in front of a familiar door. The music was still soft, but louder than when you were in your room. You push your ear up against the door, listening. It was nice, beautiful even.
Though, you must have been leaning to hard, because the door pops open, causing you to fall to the floor. You quickly stand up, frozen as Miles turns towards you.
He had known you were out there. He had purposefully played the song that Quint had told him you liked. He planned this.
"Sorry- I uh... Heard you playing."
"Yeah... It's an echoie house."
"Yeah. Uh, you're really good..."
"I know."
You look around the room at the instruments. "Pretty late."
"I guess- Uh, is there something you want, Y/n?"
You quickly shake your head and hands, "No! No, I just heard the music and wanted to see what it was."
"Well, if you close the door and come in, I can play you something."
"Play me something?"
"Yeah. That's what I said. Glad you can hear."
#yandere x reader#yandere horror#yandere slasher#miles fairchild#yandere miles fairchild#yandere miles x reader#yandere miles fairchild x reader#miles x reader#miles fairchild x reader#the turning#yandere slasher x reader#yandere imagines#horror x reader
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
my uty shrine that is mainly starlo (i am going absolutely insane)
#undertale yellow#starlo#i have been at this for Hours.#i watched 3 movies while working on it lol#and my printer literally ran out of ink#tysm to bestie for drawing 2 of the stars for my bday :3#this is my desk in my room. so i get to see it every day.#its magnetic so its stuck with magnets and blu tack#and yeah i did stick on marbles.#and also yes those are crocheted stars.#im more of a corn yaoi er but i like staroba too ig#SHE WAS WALKIN AROUND WITH A LOADED SHOTGUN READY TO FIRE ME A HOT ONE#IT WENT BANG BANG BANG STRAIGHT THROUGH MY HEART#uty#starlo uty#uty north star#uty starlo#??#btw funny story abt that star on a toothpick in the bottom left corner#his face is half burned off bc he was on my birthday cake. next to the candle. yeah.
479 notes
·
View notes
Text
MADE MYSELF SAD BY ACCIDENT WEEKEND RUINED ALREADY
#the duality of fran#yes i called in to work. i genuine stressed myself out so much i gave myself insane stomach issues#ah well#so played bg3 all day. grinding thru the last bits of act3 in my durge run#so i can get the epilogues before im separated from my gaming pc for the holidays#I CANT SEE THE EPILOGUES RN. BC. MT FUCKIN TAV FILES. ARE GONE#had some computer and steam cloud issues and anyway. my first playthru saves are gonsies so i gotta finish this run#TO GET THE EPILOGUES#anyway i did all of wyll and karlachs act 3 stuff and i think that made me extra sad#plus not eating properly bc stomach badness#and also just. probably shouls not have done nearly 10 hrs of video games straight#but alas#anyway im now extremely sad and anxious#about simultaneously everything and nothing#tattoos? my health? my family bullshit? the ultimate fate of the universe? every single problem in the world rn?#the fact that I'll never look like im supposed to? and part of me was using tattoos as a bandaid solution to fix that#and it did. not work#im not unhappy w them just not how i imagined it. but nothing ever is#and also winter. yknow. that awful time#more family drama lately. i rlly should clean my room. or de clutter my desk at least#IDK. IM JUST. SAD#and being sad is ok when i feel like i habe a purpose/duty to fulfill#but now i just kinda feel like. well im wasting air and space and resources and im not serving any function#self as a tool. yknow. i know thats bad. but. idk. idk
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Me vs outlining a perfect plan for my day in my head which I can be the only one allowed to change the schedule vs my mom asking me to do 2 simple tasks
#she was like hey can you take the trash out I was like ughhhh okay yeah give me a min (I was still ordering weed)#my mom less than a minute later : hey if you want to break down all the cardboard out there I’d appreciate it Me: actually I’d rather not I#was about to shower right after I put this weed order in#then she gets all pissed at me bc I never do what she asks and blah blah blah blah blah#like. girl. I know she can’t see in my brain but I was not awake last night watching cleaning videos and psyching myself up for a day full#of cleaning my room and showering and doing laundry and cleaning funks cage and doobs cage and making my bed and dusting my ceiling fan and#taking apart my box fan to clean it and cleaning the water pitcher in the fridge and deep cleaning#like GAH I HAVE SO MANY PLANS TODAY WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DO NOTHING AND JUST SIT ON MY ASS SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP#ripping my hair out and screaming banging my fists on the floor#I literally was like yeah I’ll take the trash out no I will not break down boxes right now and she went off on a whole fucking thing like#just shut up.#I hate it. why do I make plans in my head of the exact order I have to do things and if one person suggest doing anything differently or#pushing my schedule back further than I wanted to myself I get so annoyed I explode into a ball of flames#I wanted to shower dry off pick up weed let out funk refill the humidifier clean the bathroom mirrors throw sort and clean the bathroom#shelves sweep start a load of laundry clean off my desk which means cleaning and organizing my closet or my desk dresser thing to fit the#crap on my desk and I have to clean and reorganize the space next to my desk so I can fit my boombox there bc the humidifier took its place#next to funk and like I want to just cry why does everything have to be so fucking difficult for me why is everything simple for everyone#else and for me every simple task is composed of one million baby tasks that I have to do in the correct order forever or everyone around m#will think I’m stupid and dumb forever like WHAT THE HELL WHY IS IT SO EASY FOR EVERYONE ELSE IN MY LIFE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU JUST DO THING#IN WHATEVER ORDER AND IT DOESNT MATTER WHAT DO YOU MEAN A 20 MINUTE SETBACK DOESNT COMPLETELY RUIN YOUR DAY#AHHHHHHHHHH I WANT TO RIP MY HAIR OUT#BUT INSTEAD. I WILL GO TAKE THE TRASH OUT. AND NOT BREAK DOWN THE CARDBOARD BC THAT MEANS GETTING MY KNIFE AND MY HEADPHONES AND PUTTING MO#CLOTHES ON WHICH IS COUNTERINTUITIVE#TO THE WHOLE ABOUT TO TAKE A SHOWER THING#UGHHHHHHH#I am the worst human on the planet and I deserve infinite suffering#fuck this whole thing I’m pissed I’m gonna listen to music and rage clean after I pick up weed and shower
1 note
·
View note
Text
MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - jealousy
miguel gets jealous possessive after a new intern flirts with you
this is part of the same universe as my call oneshot!
Being 2nd in charge of the multiverse is... honestly not that hard for you. It’s mostly just co-leading, and being a secretary. Lyla helps out a bunch, but sometimes, a sassy AI can only do so much.
Jess informed you of a new intern she recruited. Apparently, he’s having his first day today, which means you’ll probably have to do a quick run-through of things with him later.
For now, it’s your fated duty to sit with Miguel at his desk so he doesn’t get all pouty later. He starts huffing and puffing when you aren’t near, takes it out on the kids sometimes.
Thanks to your suggestion, Miguel invested in a nice desk and swivel chair for the office, so now it looks more like an actual workspace instead of a maniac’s plot room. (either way, he his one lmao)
Since Lyla’s gone for the time being, you’re standing up on the office platform, tapping away at a multitude of screens. Miguel lays lazily in the office chair, swiveled up behind you to rub his face into your upper back, as well as run his hands along your tummy.
“Hun, you gotta let go. I needa tour the intern.” You mutter, closing in on an ID photo of the recruit.
“No.“
“Well, if I don’t do it, then who will?“ You ask.
“Jess.“
“She’s busy on her break. Pregnant women need breaks, you know.“
“Ugh. I don’t want you to leave.“ He whines. squeezing you tighter.
You start squirming out of his grip, pulling his pinky off of your stomach. Inching away, you push Miguel away by his head. Reluctantly, he starts letting you go, lazily running his hands onto the skin of your hips and lower thighs before letting go.
“I’ll see you in a bit, baby.“ You say, scuffing up his hair with your palm. Gracefully, you leap down from the platform, somersaulting onto the floor and skating out the exit. You hop over a few stray cardboard boxes.
Miguel watches you stroll away, and fixes his hair back into place.
Lyla magically appears, phasing in and out with a different sly look each time. She snickers, flickering all around Miguel’s head.
“Whipped.“
“Shut the fuck up.“
. . .
Miguel’s blood starts to boil as soon as you roll in with that stupid, bastard of an intern. He’s too close to you for comfort, so close to his arm nudging yours... Miguel’s teeth start to clench, his fangs close to drawing blood from his mouth. He’s paying too much attention to you, there’s a vibe he gets that he hates to his core.
Everything about him is aggravating; the blonde hair, the snarky smirk, all of it.
“...and this is Miguel’s office!“ You say, gesturing your hand to the majority of the area.
“Sweet, nice to meet the bossman.“
Bossman, his ass. Miguel would only ever let you call him bossman.
“Miguel! Come down!“ You yell, and his heart warms in his chest. He turns around from his standing form on the office platform, eyeing the intern in order to scare him a bit.
“Hey, what’s up man! Glad to finally meet the man behind the slaughter!“ The intern exclaims, his hands rested on his hips.
Miguel fights every urge to both roll his eyes and tackle the recruit, keeping a somewhat straight face on. He chuckles a little, not a single trace of a smile on his face.
“Heh, yeah? Excited to meet the bossman?“ Miguel taunts, but it looks like the intern can’t tell he is.
“Heck yeah dude! Where do I start?“
Miguel starts nodding a little, plastering on a face smile, chuckling a bit...
Before he throws the entire office chair at the recruit. Not to hit you, though. He’d never, ever hit you.
Instantly, the intern turns away, shielding his body with his hands. In the nick of time, though, you latch your webbing onto the chair, slinging it away to side before it could harm anyone. You cross your arms.
“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about tha- MIGUEL!“ You scream.
And he throws a literal file cabinet at the man. Again, you latch it out of way without problem.
“What th'heck, man?! What’s your fuckin’ problem?!“ The intern yells, spreading his arms out.
“My fuckin’ problem is you nagging my wife!“ He roars.
“Wait a sec- she’s your wife?“
Miguel then leaps down from the platform, chin held up high in a sinister glare. Slowly, he steps over towards the both of you, fixing his eyes on the intern the entire time.
Miguel’s tall, really tall compared to the newbie. He pokes his finger to the recruit, leaning in real close.
“Stay at least 5 feet away from my wife at all times.“ Miguel utters, and you kinda feel bad for the new guy.
You cross your arms. “C’mon, Miguel. He’s literally new, take it easy on him!” You say back, and Miguel pouts, whines. Possessively, he reaches over to you, pulling in you in by the hip to try to soothe you. It doesn’t work, and you present yourself from giving into his needy touches.
And then, you turn around back to the newbie. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about that! He’s usually not like this-”
“Man, fuck this.“ The intern exclaims, taking a few steps back in agitation. “Take me back home, I ain’t dealin’ with this shit!“
He storms off, kicking a stray cardboard box on the way out.
“Aw, crap.“
“Finally.“
You swerve back around, hands on your hips. “Miguel, that was uncalled for.”
“Yes it was! He was smothering all over you!“ He yells, throwing his hands up in the air like it was the most obvious thing ever.
“Well, now thanks to you, we lost a recruit.“
“One of literally thousands!“
“And now, there’s papers everywhere on the floor!“
“Shhh, honey, I’ll clean it up later.“
Ignoring your frown, Miguel finally pulls you into him, pressing your lower back into his own with a nose into your hair.
“I saw the way he put his arm around you. He was flirting with you too. Hated it.“ Miguel utters.
“When?“ You ask.
“On the surveillance.“ He says, and you sigh. He’s right, the guy was flirting with you for a bit, but you chose to ignore it so you could get over with the tour faster.
“Eh, he gave me the heebie jeebies from the beginning.“ You say, and Miguel automatically squeezes you tighter into him, a deep grumble bellowing from his inner throat.
“I’m never letting you tour anyone ever again.“ Miguel admits.
“After that? Go ahead.“ You scoff, and finally, he sighs in relief.
He tries drags you back to the office platform again, but then forgets that he threw the chair, grumbling in regret. Instead, he just hovers behind you for the rest of the day, occasionally pressing a smooch to your head.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#atsv miguel#atsv x reader#atsv lyla#atsv#across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse x reader#fluff#romance#x reader#reader insert#lyla#spiderman#cosmosis-writes ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
15K notes
·
View notes
Text
"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)
"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."
3,012 words.
warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,
notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^
credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.
russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️
Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.
He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.
Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.
Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.
The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.
Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.
Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.
…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.
"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.
Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."
Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"
Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"
He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”
“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.
As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.
Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.
The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....
Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.
Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.
Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.
He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.
Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.
Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"
His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.
You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.
Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.
Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.
You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.
Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.
The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]
He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.
Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.
Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."
His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.
Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]
Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.
Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.
His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.
"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.
Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"
His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"
Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.
Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.
"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"
"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.
He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.
Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.
"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.
Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.
You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.
Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.
The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."
Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.
"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.
"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.
His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.
Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.
"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.
Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.
Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.
“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.
Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”
This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.
Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.
Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷
[luvwestwood masterlist]
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x reader#choso smut#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#choso x you#jjk drabbles#jjk smut
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah
“That one was weak; do another three.”
“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”
“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”
We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!
Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!
Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy).
But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”
“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”
Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general.
Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.
But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.
He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.
Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord.
Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.
And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half.
Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”
Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”
That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”
You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”
“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”
Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.
“…Five minutes.”
“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.
Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs.
No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…
Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit, make this quick, Y/n!
In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??
Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—
“Y/n?”
You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!
Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!
“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“
“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”
You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”
The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”
“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.
“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”
No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.
“How was it today?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”
“The workout. How was it?”
“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.”
“And why is that?”
Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”
He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…”
His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—
“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.”
“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“
“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”
“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!
Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”
Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“
“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”
Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?”
The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.
“How come?”
For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“
“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?”
Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“
“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?”
“Right…”
“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”
“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.
His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.”
The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“
“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.”
“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”
Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.”
“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”
“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”
And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.
The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.
The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.
Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.
“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up? Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs.
The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”
And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.
Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.
You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke.
“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”
His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.
“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”
KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!
Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—
Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.
“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”
“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!?
“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”
“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU— You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament.
“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…
Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.
“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds.
“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"
With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds.
“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night.
Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.
“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment.
“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”
“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.
“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”
Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.
A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much.
“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”
By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.
But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.
Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding.
“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…”
Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die!
But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.
“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years.
“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”
“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…”
“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”
Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”
He lifts a brow. “Want what?”
“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there.
That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him.
The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity.
Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.”
The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.
“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity.
Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”
Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.”
“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.”
With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.
RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!!
The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?”
“Hey, is that you, Ino?”
“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”
“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”
“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”
“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”
“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”
Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”
“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”
“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“
“Ahaahhnn!!”
A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”
Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?
How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.
“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”
Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.
“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”
“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”
“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!”
And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”
He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”
That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”
He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”
Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…
…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by achumuchi + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji x you#toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#toji fanfic#fushiguro toji smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fic#jjk imagines#jjk fic
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
cozy as a kitten
alastor/f!reader
warnings: there are none straight up fluff with a little bit of mild teasing c:
You’ve had a long and painstakingly hard day at the hotel.
Every time you thought you could catch a break and sit down someone or something was needing you to do just about everything.
Charlie and Vaggie needed your help for the days activity.
Angel needed your opinion on his new porn shoot.
Sir pentious blew a hole in the side of the hotel with a new invention that you had to confiscate.
Husk well he’s Husk…
Niffty got stuck in a toilet.
At this point you needed just somewhere to slip away for a while and it seemed you knew just the place.
As you ascended the stairs of his broadcasting tower..
Alastor was on the air, so you quietly watched him from the sidelines while he worked. Smiling softly to yourself as you could tell this was truly something the radio demon enjoyed doing (besides causing torment to those who wronged him) and saw how much dedication he put into it.
He finally notices you as he wraps up his last couple words and then signed off turning to you in his chair with that signature grin.
“Hi my dear! Are you feeling alright?~” Alastor taking in your wearisome expression.
“Yeah Al i’m fine…just been a long day and need to get off my feet.” You give him a soft smile as you then rub your eyes tiredly.
He looks around the room seeing as there were no other seats in the room besides his own.
Alastor then puts aside his mic letting it lean against his desk, dusting of his thighs as he pats his hand on his lap.
“Come here” His voice surprisingly soft and inviting which caught you off guard.
“Alastor you don’t have to-“
“I insist~” He cuts you off before you could even protest patting his thigh more demandingly now making you blush.
You walk your way over to him settling yourself on his lap though you sat stiff as a board making him chuckle.
“You can relax now sweetheart, i don’t bite..much~”
Your body went rigged as he said this, shoving your face in his chest to hide your now red face.
“HAHA can’t take the heat..” He teasingly whispered in your ear as the static in his voice was practically humming.
Then an uneasy feeling passes through you as you then hear his tentacles admit from the floor coming up to wrap around you, making your head poke up for a moment as they then stopped once wrapped around you almost like a blanket.
Feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside from the comfort it was bringing to you.
Alastor then runs his hand gently along your hair stroking it as you rested your head on his chest once more feeling your eyes getting more droopy.
“A-alastor~” Your voice tiresome as you attempt to fight the sleep over taking you.
“Shhhhh darling, just rest, you deserve it~” He shushes you softly and could swear you felt a small kiss being placed on your forehead before the slumber completely overtaken you.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
I JUST WANNA SAY THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY FIRST LIL FIC “hell’s little maid”!! i honestly was so iffy on it and felt that my writing was crap to be proven completely wrong 😭 which has now just made me want to write tons more so TY! TY! TY! ᰔᩚ
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor imagine#alastor fluff#alastor x reader#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings#☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
miguel o'hara stars in... 'NERD!MIGUEL STARTS AN ONLYFANS' (ง ื▿ ื)ว
a/n~ this popped in my head so quick and i thought i was gonna combust if i didn’t start writng then and there٩( ᐛ )و once again all creds to @nymphomatique 💗
part 2
summary; your nerdy almost-boyfriend starts an onlyfans without you knowing.
wc; 1.6k
pairings; nerd!miguel o'hara x rich!fem!reader
cw; SMUT!!, onlyfans, miguel being embarrassed, m!masturbation, panty kink, humiliation kink, sub!miguel pretending to be a dom, miguel being obsessed with reader (//∇//), dom!reader, reader being possessive (as you should), the woman was too stunned to speak, paint me like one of your french girls, nawt proofread - i was half asleep
ok,, nerd! miguel with a secret onlyfans that he hides from you.
because he’s lowkey embarrassed
because he wants you to find it and punish him for sharing what’s yours with others
on top of that, he’s one of the top accounts on the site. i mean it’s not a surprise- he’s still hot as fuck. extremely tall, chiseled body, thick thighs, sexy face, big dick- he’s quite literally perfect, and he knows you know that.
he only started it because of you, anyway. the compliments you whisper in his ears, telling him how beautiful he is, how much you love his body, he never realised how fine he actually is. so one day whilst he was sitting in your dorm, finishing up on of your reports, he decided he would put his body to good use. you were out for the night, and you probably wouldn’t come back until the next morning so he had all the time in the world.
he scrolled through a few pics you took of him on your phone, but something was bugging him. he looked so…submissive in them. yeah, of course he enjoyed being submissive - but only for you. the idea of other people seeing him in a way that’s reserved for you and you only giving him a strange feeling in his chest. miguel was a virgin before he met you though, so being submissive was really all he knew. being dominant felt wrong, but he was willing to give it a try.
feeling a surge of confidence, he stood up from your desk, stripping himself of his shirt, leaving him clad in his loose sweats. he sat on your queen sized bed, scooting himself up to the headboard. he really was a tall motherfucker though, long legs dangling off the edges of your fluffy mattress. he props one leg up, resting his elbow against it as he angles the camera down towards his chest, bulging muscles highlighted by your warm fairy lights.
he takes pic after pic, different angles and positions around your room even using some of your toys as props. but in all of those pictures, he never showed his face - that’s for you, and nothing can change that. instead, he offered his followers a view of his plump lips, pulled into a lazy grin in every photo.
a few months pass and he’s been racking up followers like crazy, all the money he makes - he spends on you, of course, buying you bags, clothes, shoes, anything his pretty mommy desires. you don’t question where he was getting all that money from, miguel also came from a pretty wealthy family - he did still spend as much of his parents money on you as he could.
eventually, he was in the top 3 creators of the site. he started to get a bit more raunchy with his posts, after that, he blew up like crazy. the constant *pings*! from his phone, however, was a means for suspicion. since when was your little loser of a boyfriend, well he’s not your boyfriend yet, but since when was he popular? like, people only know who he is because of you, and still nothing really changed since you claimed him as yours - so what’s with this sudden boost in attention he’s receiving?
he sits across from you, at your desk again, as you glare holes into his back from your plush bed. he’s smiling at his phone, the screen hidden from your view and you can only assume the worst. he’s talking to other bitches. everyone knew you were possessive, but when it comes to miguel? that’s a whole ‘nother situation. you wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of anyone who even thought about fucking around with your miguel. having connections is a real blessing.
your tongue clicks in annoyance, voice cutting through the comfortable silence in the room as you call out to him. “miguel, give me your phone.” you hold a hand out towards him, unmoving as your face remains devoid of emotion - although your twitching eyebrow tells a lot. he looks up at you immediately, pushing his frames back up his face. “w-what d’you need my phone f-for?” it was a valid question in any other circumstance, but this wasn’t any other circumstance. this was your obedient, not so little, miguel questioning you.
your brows raise, an amused scoff leaving your glossy lisp. you raise from the bed, strutting over to him as you snatch his phone from his hand. “the fuck is up with this attitude, hm? i don’t remember teachin’ you to be a little brat.” you sneer down at him, he was pathetic, really. face flushing as he realised his mistake, stumbling over his words and whimpering soft pleas of forgiveness. “shut it.” you don’t spare him another glance, gripping his phone as you sit back on your bed, crossing your legs.
unlocking his phone was easy, his password is your birthday - you could smile at how cutely obsessed with you he is but you where too pissed off at the moment. and of course, his lock screen and wallpaper is a picture of you, the same with his instagram pfp as you scroll through his chats. everything was weirdly innocent. there were only brief dm’s between him and what seemed like old friends and some current friends you didn’t even know he had, even his snapchat was completely barren.
you double, even triple checked his socials - not even a finsta in sight. with a deep sigh, you give up. of course you weren’t going to say out loud that you were overthinking but- oh? that stupid notification sound again. you quickly looked down at his phone again, seeing a notification from twitter. you completely forgot about it - seeing as it’s not even fucking called twitter anymore. (still bitter about this, fuck elon musty)
clicking on it, your eyes widen in surprise. this whole account was a complete 360 from the miguel that grovels at your feet on a daily basis. the most teasingly sexy posts litter his feed - promising all that and more if you just clicked on the link in his bio, and that you did. miguel was watching you nervously the whole time, thinking the worst at your silent reactions. he moves to stand, hoping that just maybe he can get his phone back. “sit the fuck down.” and he sits.
what a fucking slut. your good little boy, in all these different positions, fooling his fans into thinking he’s some strong, sexy, dom. getting off in your bed, calling his fans all the nasty names you call him. the whole situation was just so funny to you. these poor people, they didn’t know how much their favourite daddy dom was in fact a little bitch, for you and you only.
there was a part of you that was happy seeing have so much confidence, as much as you want to keep him all to yourself. it was kinda hot, him trying to act all dominant. you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make your cunt throb, biting your lips as you scroll deeper, and deeper. one post in particular caught your eyes, though. it was a video, the lighting was darker than the others but his body was just as clear. you put the volume all the way up, snickering at miguel’s frightened gasp behind you.
you can see why this post had so many likes now, cause god was it sexy. miguel laid on your bed, his face not visible, chest on display as he lightly ran his strong hands up and down his body, mumbling deep praises to his fans about how ‘good’ they are for him, how well he could fuck his pretty little sluts, how they probably wish they were there with him. who wouldn’t? his fat cock was drizzled in lube, sticky, hard, and leaking all over his hand. it rested on his stomach, smearing pre all over his happy trail, as he traced a thick finger along the throbbing veins.
his moans where still just like you knew them to be, whiny and breathy, small whimpers leaking through his spit soaked lips. his hand worked himself faster, pumping up and down just like you do, skimming over his tip in the same way you do. after all, you’re the only one who knows how to use him. it feels like he edges himself forever. constantly stopping and starting, gripping onto his cock tightly to stop himself from exploding all over himself.
he pants heavily, growling softly as he pulls something up out of frame, a small black lacy thong. your black lacy thong, the same one you had on right now. he wrapped it around his aching cock, rubbing his tip along the crotch before rapidly fucking himself into the fabric. he doesn’t last long though, the thong smelt like you, he had only taken it a few minutes before he started filming - digging through your dirty laundry like some depraved perv to find the perfect pair.
only after a couple quick pumps did he spill all over the pretty fabric, his mouth hung open, chest shimmering with sweat. he brought the soiled panties to his mouth, sensually licking off his own cum before shooting a teasing smile at the camera - the video ending. you couldn’t even speak, slowly turning around to face him, his head hanging down in shame.
oh, you were gonna make sure he learnt his lesson. his fans too.
to be continued…
- i want his balls jn my mouf
#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara headcanons#miguel o’hara x reader#sub miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel ohara#cheonstapes#cheonstapes films!🪷
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: Captured.
A Continuation of This Piece.
Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader x Yandere!Gojo (JJK).
Word Count: 3.3k.
TW: AFAB!Reader, Dub/Con -> Non/Con, Implied Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Threesomes, The Pervasive Aire of Homoerotica, Slight Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Violence, Intimidation, and Biting. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
He let you wait outside while he booked a room. It was a test, obviously – to see if you’d try and run as soon as he let you out of his sight. You didn’t. You kept your back pressed against the peeling cement wall and your hands in your pockets as the man at the front desk screamed, as you listened to the slick sounds of carnage and Geto’s muffled laughter. By the time he came out, his clothes dotted with dark stains and his hands lathered in the same dripping scarlet, you thought you might’ve been too sick for whatever he wanted to do with you.
He held up a hand, two keys and their accompanying plastic tags hanging from each finger. “Pick a number, one through ten.”
You just wanted to get this over with. Then, you wouldn’t have to worry about monsters or mysterious men or any of this ever again. “Eight.”
“Oh, the honeymoon suite.” Your eyes widened, and he cocked his head to the side. “Kidding, kidding. That’ll have to wait, for now.”
The room was nicer than you’d expected. Not quite the oppressively beige monstrosity you’d feared, but not as far from the eye-bleedingly pink love hotel that’d be the permanent backdrop in your worst nightmares as you would’ve liked. Currently, you were sitting on the edge of a king-sized bed with faux-velvet sheets, staring at your feet as Geto washed his hands in the in-suite bathroom. So lost in your own spiraling thoughts, you didn’t notice the water shutting off, didn’t hear him approaching you until the mattress dipped at your side and a pair of hands came to rest on either side of your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion, you were hauled into his lap, left to balance on his thigh as his eyes raked over you unabashedly. “You should try to relax. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid of me.” His hand fell to the hem of your sweater. You’d gotten dressed in a blind panic after waking up to an apartment crawling with those awful things, but now, you regretted not throwing on as many layers as you could, not putting as many barriers as you could between yourself and the feeling of his calloused fingers skirting over your skin. “I can help take the edge off, if you’d like.”
For the first time that day, you felt a spark of relief. “Do you have anything? I’m alright with pills.”
“I was thinking something more along the lines of…” His hand splayed over your stomach, his tone laced with a dark edge. “Choking you until you black-out, then having my way with your helpless body?”
“Oh.” Just as quickly, that spark was extinguished – crushed under an unforgiving heel and stamped into total nonexistence. “I… I think I’d rather be awake, thank you.”
He hummed, tapping two fingers against your hip. “Have it your way, little one.”
Without warning, you were thrown onto the center of the bed. Before you could haul yourself up, before you could fully realize what was going on, Geto was between your open legs, mouth latched onto the inside of your thigh and his hands tearing at your shorts. The flimsy material gave away easily, and your panties didn’t last much longer. You took back what you’d said about wearing less revealing clothes; making this take any longer than it already did would’ve been torture. As deftly as he worked, the knot of dread forming in your chest was faster, quickly overshadowing every rational thought you might’ve had in favor of telling you that you weren’t supposed to be here, that this was dangerous, that you didn’t know what was going on, that you—
His broad tongue laved over your now-exposed slit, and your panicked mind went completely blank. His mouth was hot, and he didn’t waste time, latching onto your clit and sucking before you could think to push him away. Your body, nerves fried by adrenaline and senses dialed up to the point of hypersensitivity, responded immediately, your back arching as you struggled to swallow back a fractured moan. He encouraged your reactions, laving over your clit as two of his fingers found their way to your now-dripping entrance.
His digits slipped into you without resistance, scissoring apart and splitting you open as your own hands balled around the sheets, as you locked your jaw into place and did what little you could swallow back any sounds that’d make you seem more pathetic than you already were. Your pitiful attempts at resistance earned a throaty chuckle that reverberated against your clit and made your thighs clench together. Vaguely, in the distance, you felt his hand curl around your ankle, then you were being bent in half, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he ate you out like a man starved. It was all you could do to keep your eyes shut, the tears that would’ve escaped otherwise safely locked away, to make sure you didn’t kick or thrash or do anything that’d make him decide you’d be more entertaining after you’d been half-mauled by one of his monsters. It was all you could do to keep your mind blank, to block out the terrible, wet noises rising up from between your thighs, to—
The door creaked as it swung open, and you scrambled to pull away from Geto, to cover yourself before someone saw you being brought to the brink of climax by a murderer. He held you in place, though, his grip turning vice-like as he kept you splayed-open and on-display for the familiar, white-haired stranger now standing in the doorway. “Satoru,” Geto started, still idly pumping his fingers into you. “How kind of you to join—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish. You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, Gojo had him pinned to the far wall, a small crater blown into the cement where the point of collision would’ve been. You could see an orb of blinding, blue light forming in his other hand, but Geto only clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Keep your dick in your pants, pervert,” he purred, eyes flitting to you. “There are innocents nearby.”
The orb of light disappeared, but Gojo didn’t move. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”
You watched a first form at Geto’s side, watched in a daze as his knuckles collided with Gojo’s cheek with enough force to send him flying across the room and into the side of the bed, fracturing the steel frame. “Me neither, ‘toru.”
Letting out a ragged exhale, Gojo pushed himself to his feet and their conversation devolved into a rush of blows and kicks and insults half-finished before Gojo’s fist collided with Geto’s chin or Geto caught Gojo’s throat in his teeth. Clothes were torn, blood spilled across cheap carpeting, and you blinked once, twice, before shaking your head and hauling yourself up and taking stock of the situation.
They were fighting. Eventually, one of them would probably win, and that winner would probably want to fuck you. Maybe, after that, one of them would also help you. Maybe.
Gojo caught Geto’s hair in his fist and pulled. You could’ve sworn you heard Geto moan.
Okay. Alright. Yeah. No. Fuck this, actually.
Slowly, careful not to make a sound, you stood up and pulled your sweater down to cover your still dripping cunt before inching towards the door which was, surprisingly, still in one piece (it would dawn on you later that Geto must’ve left it unlatched, if not open, much to your delayed mortification). You could figure something else out. There were two other people who knew about your monsters, which meant there must’ve been at least one more. Gojo had been wearing a uniform, when you first met him, running for your life from the mangled mess of teeth and claws that’d managed to sink its talons into you, and you thought you’d heard him mention a school. You could find someone else, someone who wouldn’t ask for sex, someone who wouldn’t know your name before you introduced yourself, someone who’d give you a protective charm or a talisman and then demand for money or unpaid labor in return. You could—
It felt like vertigo, like the surface of the Earth had shifted underneath you. Your body tilted, collapsed, and then Gojo’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed into your back and his fingers burrowed into the flesh of your side. “Trying to get away?” His voice was raspy. Geto must’ve gotten his throat. “That’s not very nice.”
“You were the one who burst in uninvited and distracted me,” Geto muttered. His lip was busted, and he cracked his nose back into place as he hauled himself up from the floor. “If you hadn’t interrupted us, they’d still be cumming on my tongue so adorably.”
Gojo didn’t seem to pay him any mind. His attention remained fixed on you, his free hand drifting to your vulnerable pussy. Using his thumb, he gathered some of the slick staining your inner thighs, toying with it as he spoke. “I thought the first time I touched you like this would be more romantic.” He paused, his ears ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Or, the first time I touched you while you were awake, at least. It… it got harder to control myself, toward the end.”
You snapped to Geto, teeth bared. “This wasn’t what we agreed to. I don’t want to—”
“Don’t talk to him.” His fingers slipped into you, curling against the walls of your cunt. Your breath hitched in your chest, and Gojo pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “Don’t look at him. He’s not supposed to be here.”
“I could say the same thing about you, Satoru.” Stretching his back, he made his way back to the bed and collapsed onto it, letting out a strained groan. “If I hadn’t been so kind as to donate all of those very valuable, very hard-to-come-by curses to your pitiful cause, you would’ve waited… how long? Another year before so much as breathing the same air as your little crush?” His half-lidded stare met yours, and he smirked. “You should have a taste. The poor thing is heavenly when they’re scared.”
“He’s always been this bossy. I’m sorry you had to deal with him on your own.” Gojo drew back, but didn’t let you go. Rather, he looped an arm under your knees and pulled you off your feet, carrying you back to that fucking bed. He laid you out with more care than Geto had, but his expression remained uncannily blank. He’d been blindfolded the first time you’d met, and whatever eyewear he’d come with had been either removed or torn away, revealing eyes that were almost painfully blue. The only mercy was his hair – long enough to fall over his face and obscure his empty gaze, his parted lips. His hand drifted to your injured leg, still bandaged from the knee down, and his lips quirked downward. “I’m sorry you had to get hurt, too. But…” He smiled, leaned in until his forehead rested against yours. “It’s good that we’ll get to be together, right?”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell him to stop touching you, to let you go home, but you couldn’t go home, so you said nothing.
Geto let out an exaggerated yawn. “I didn’t put this little reunion together because I wanted to hear you talk, ‘toru.”
“See what I mean? So fucking bossy.” And yet, one of his hands fell away from you. You heard fabric rustle, metal clink, and then his cock was free, prodding against the inside of your thigh. You could feel your heart drop into your stomach as your eyes broke away from his and raked over his pale shaft, his flushed head, already leaking beads of ivory precum. He was tall. They were both massive, but nothing attached to a human being should’ve been that big. “You’re lucky I’m letting you watch.”
“Who said I’d be watching?” So preoccupied by your own terror, you didn’t notice Geto shifting until you felt his hands on your sides, then at the hem of your sweater, pulling your only remaining protection over your head. You scrambled to stop him, but there wouldn’t have been much you could to do fend him off at your best, let alone in the state you’d been reduced to tonight. With a breathy chuckle, he finished stripping you down, his attention immediately falling to your chest. “You wouldn’t want me leaving you alone with him, would you, little one?” He bowed his head, catching your nipple with his teeth and pulling harshly. A pained whine slipped past your lips before you could choke it back, and he turned towards Gojo, grinning. “See? They like me.”
Whatever rage Gojo felt, he managed to bury it beneath a soft smile, a pulse of pure electricity in his eyes as he took his cock in his hand, dragging the tip over your entrance. You thrashed, kicked, fought, but he only cooed as he thrust into you, like he was trying to comfort you. Like you would need to be comforted if he just stopped.
He bottomed out, his hips pressing into yours with a blissful sigh, and you lurched forward, moving to claw at his eyes, to wrap your hands around his throat, to do something. Geto caught your wrists before you could so much as touch him, though – laughing as he forced your arms flush against the mattress. As Gojo started to move in earnest, Geto slotted his lips against yours, taking advantage of your distress to force his tongue into your mouth while Gojo fucked you open, whatever gentleness he’d been attempting to show you falling away in favor of burying himself that much deeper in your tight heat. As soon as Geto pulled away, Gojo took his place, his kiss not quite as aggressive but no less invasive, no less unwelcome. You should’ve never left your apartment. You should’ve never run from your monsters. At least they might’ve been kind enough to kill you quickly.
By the time he broke away from you, your vision was spotted with black, your lungs aching from a lack of oxygen. Jerkily, he straightened his back and raised a hand, his fingers soon tangled in Geto’s hair. You watched in a daze as teeth clashed against teeth and lips collided with a bruising force, and considered the terrifying possibility that you might’ve been the first person either of them had ever kissed.
Gojo’s pace turned erratic, his hold on your hip crushing. His pelvic bone caught on your clit every time he thrust into you. You’d been able to control yourself when faced with Geto’s teasing, but now, every little cracked moan and pained whimper slid past your lips, barely audible above the sound of slick squelching and skin slapping against skin. Unwillingly, you clenched around him, and Gojo doubled over with a throaty groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You felt his mouth on your throat, then his teeth, sinking into your skin deep enough to draw blood. You clenched your eyes shut, willing your body to go numb to the pain, to ignore the coil of pure agony winding tighter in your core, but Geto caught your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back and stare up at him. “Trying to run away again so soon?”
“S-stop,” you half-sobbed, trying to pry his hand away from your face. “Don’t touch me—”
“We’ll have to bring a gag along, next time. That is, unless you learn to be more appreciative.” He shrugged his sweatpants below his waist, wrapping his fist around his cock and guiding it to your lips. “Open up, little one.”
You grit your teeth, keeping your mouth shut as tightly as you could, but Gojo bit down on your collarbone and you screamed, jerking against him. Geto took advantage of your misery, slipping a thumb into your mouth and prying your teeth apart, forcing his cock down your throat. “Bite down,” he muttered, voice low and tone sharpened, “and I’ll make sure he knocks you up.”
A wave of cold dread washed over you, but you didn’t have time to linger on your newly realized fear. Geto was already fucking your skull, already leaving you struggling not to choke as you tried to remember how to breathe around him. Where Gojo was uncontrolled, Geto almost seemed… unaffected, holding your head in place while he rolled his hips with the idle pace of a man determined to milk every second he could out of you. It was unbearable; the burning in your throat, the heat in your core, the feeling of Gojo battering into your cunt until you couldn’t stop your legs from twitching, your back from arching, your pussy from clenching around Gojo’s length and drawing a sinful noise from somewhere deep in his chest. You let out a ragged moan half-suffocated by Geto’s cock, and then you were coming undone around him, your body convulsing underneath his. Gojo wasn’t far behind. With a hitched groan, he pressed his hips into yours and pushed another open-mouthed kiss into your neck, making no attempt to pull out before flooding your pussy with something thick and awful.
Geto wasn’t far behind, his eyes falling shut as he came down your throat. For the longest time, neither of them moved, Geto forcing you to choke down every last drop of his cum while Gojo stare down at you, eyes blank and lips parted, his expression caught somewhere between tender and awe-struck.
Finally, he glanced away from you, looking to Geto instead. “Let’s switch. I want to feel their mouth.”
Geto let out a breath of a chuckle. With your body limp, your jaw slack, he pulled away from you, leaning just close enough to let his lips brush against your temple before straightening his back and moving to take Gojo’s place between your legs. “Whatever you say, lover boy.”
~
Hours later, when your skin was little more than a patchwork of hickeys and bruises and you couldn’t feel anything save for a constant, excruciating ache in your cunt, Geto had fallen asleep with his arm around your waist and Gojo laid next to you, head propped on his fist and a soft smile painted across his lips. You could see the sun starting to rise from behind the thin motel curtains, feel the dread that accompanied being in a strange place with strange men at a strange time, but it all seemed secondary, pushed to a distance by your exhaustion, your devastation. When Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you out of Geto’s hold, all you could summon was a whine of protest, and even that was quickly glazed over with an airy laugh, a quiet hush.
Geto’s shirt (discarded three hours in, when he stepped aside for a shower while Gojo made you cum on his tongue for the fourth time) was pulled over your head, Gojo’s glasses (lost in the initial fight, found briefly while Geto was bouncing you on his cock with one hand and jerking Gojo off with the other, then lost again) snagged off the floor and pocketed. As he slipped out of the beaten motel door, you shut your eyes against the dim light, burying your face in his chest, and he encouraged you to, cupping the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss into your forehead. With his lips still lingering against your skin, he spoke, his voice muffled by his proximity. “It’s alright. You can sleep, if you need to.”
It might’ve been sweeter, if you hadn’t been able to feel every inch of his smile cutting into your skin.
“I promised I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere oneshot#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#yandere jjk#jjk imagines#yandere geto suguru#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#yandere gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#yanderecore#yancore
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
It starts small. You honestly don't think much of it. Crows begin leaving you gifts in your window frame. It's pretty rocks. It's a small screw. It's coins and grimm, it's a button from a shirt, it's shiny beads.
You bring it up to Mammon randomly one day. He stares at you wide-eyed. "What, you mean crowns leave ya gifts? Sound ridiculous," he says and you shrug.
"I mean, I've heard about crows leaving gifts for humans before. It's not that unusual, but usually, the humans give something to the crows in return," you say, thinking aloud. "That's the part that confuses me. I haven't given anything to the crows, so why do they like me so much?" Mammon's cheeks are bright red by now, the blush going all the way down his neck. Your brows furrow with concern.
"Hey, are you okay?" you ask and he nods quickly. "Yeah, 'm fine, gotta-go-see-ya! " he stutters and quickly leaves you, practically running away. You look after him in confusion. Weren't you both just supposed to be headed home?
The gifts continue. You get a single earring. At one point you get a small bone and at another time you get a tooth which leaves you a bit unsettled but also intrigued. You treasure every single gift, keeping it in a small box by your desk. You begin to leave the crows gifts in return. You find that they like peanuts and berries. One time you experimentally leave a big piece of watermelon, only to find it devoured within minutes.
The next day there's a pretty locket with what looks like a flower engraved in it. You gape at the locket and instantly put it on, proudly wearing it around your neck. You make sure to leave the crows a feast that day.
Satan is the first brother to notice it when it slips out from the collar of your uniform one day. "Is that new?" he asks. "Oh yeah, I've befriended a bunch of crows." Satan stops in his tracks and stares at you.
"You've befriended crows?" He repeats and you nod. "Yes. Why is everyone so weird about this?" A knowing smile creeps onto his face and he shakes his head.
"Why do you think the crows like you so much?" he asks. You hum, considering it for a second. Eventually, you have to draw a blank and look at Satan in defeat. His smile only grows wider.
"Ask Mammon. He might know."
You find Mammon in his room, lying in his bed. He smiles when he sees you and pats the bed, motioning you to come over. "Come here," he says and you do, lying down next to him. He huffs and pulls at you so you're lying on his chest. You can feel his heart beating and you look up at him through your lashes.
"Hey, Mamms," you say and he runs his hand down your back, rubbing circles into it. "Hey, treasure," he says and grins.
"Satan says you might know the cause of my new friendships." His cheeks turn crimson in an instant and he lets out something akin to a nervous laugh. "Oh, the crows, you mean?" you huff and playfully roll your eyes. "Come on, big guy, spill the beans," you say and Mammon sighs.
"So, the crows like you, because, well, I told them about you," he says and a grin spreads across your face. "Go on," you say.
"Okay, I have crow familiars, you know what a familiar is, right?" he says and looks at you expectantly. You rake your brain, remembering briefly having about it in one of your classes. "Yeah, it's like witches with black cats, right?" you say and Mammon hums.
"Yeah, kind of, but anyone can have a familiar and it can be any animal. The whole black cat thing is just something the catholic church made up." You nod in understanding while Mammon continues to rub patterns into your back. The beating of his heart seems to have become louder underneath you. "So what you're saying is you can't shut up about how awesome I am and now a bunch of crows are obsessed with me?" you say and Mammon hides his face in his hands. You giggle and pry his hands away, smiling at him adoringly.
"Please don't make fun of me," he huffs and you pout at his antics. "I could never tease my lovely little bird boy," you coo and Mammon groans while pushing you off him. He turns his back to you and you laugh manically. "Come on, Mamms, It's cute," you say and press soft kisses to the nape of his neck. "you're cute," you say and throw an arm and a leg over him, attempting to spoon him. You feel him instantly melting to your touch, completely unable to keep his resolve. It's almost too easy when he turns around again to face you. You smile at his pink face.
"I really like the gifts the crows gave me," you reassure him because you genuinely do. It's become something you look forward to when you open your window.
"You do?"
"Yeah, absolutely," you affirm and he smiles sheepishly. "I once tried to train them to steal money for me, but it didn't work."
a/n: thanks for reading! find my other stuff here <3
#bird boy go brrr#i love bullying men#they make it too easy#obey me mammon#obey me#obey me mammon fluff#perse fics#obey me x you#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#mammon#mammon x mc#mammon x reader#obey me shall we date#obey me fluff#obey me fic#om! mammon#obey me headcanon#perse fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
lawredits
ale
usaruth
題名未設定
hiddentorchforge
Tumblr's Third Favorite Swordsmith
even-industry-number-make
Untitled