#and then- who would’ve thought- i find that i don’t have anything good to wear. strange! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waynes-multiverse · 1 month

Note

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam��s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

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the-travelling-witch · 1 month

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

summary: when you ask about your boyfriend's home, you get more than you bargained for; but considering it's him, you don't mind, right?

pairing: jade x gn! reader

warnings: fluff, a little suggestive, nonsexual nudity; i’m suffering from a serious case of eel on the brain so you must suffer with me; can’t stop thinking about bioluminescent eel brothers and just mixed that in with jade’s ceremonial robes home screen lines

twisted wonderland masterlist

“I’m captivated by the human custom of changing clothes to suit the occasion,” Jade hummed as deft fingers tied your previously crooked tie and then straightened out the collar of your uniform shirt. “It reminds me of fish who change their scales to match their environment.”

“That sounds like an interesting ability to have,” you chuckled as you combed the long black strand of hair behind his ear, mesmerised by the way the ambient light of the nearly empty Mostro Lounge reflected in his heterochromic eyes. Even with him sitting down and you standing between his legs, he was tall enough to where you were nearly on eye-level. “I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess mers don’t really wear clothes then?”

“It depends on the mer, really, though accessorising is far more common than what you humans would consider clothes. Those in brighter waters seem to enjoy bejewelling themselves for outings, though it doesn’t serve much of a purpose in the deep.” Jade smiled, though this smile lacked the usual nerve-wrecking edge it held when others were around. When he was satisfied with his work, his hands slid down to rest on your waist.

“On top of having to learn how to walk, having to wear all these layers of clothing must have felt really restricting,” you said, your hand mapping the path from his jaw down to his shoulder to play with the lapels of his blazer. “Though I have to say, you do look very good in your school uniform.”

“Fufu, you flatter me, my pearl,” the merman chuckled. “Even so, you look much more lovely in anything you wear. I’m still not accustomed to clothes with excess fabric. My people aren’t like aquarium fish with their long tail fins, after all.”

“I’m still in awe you managed to pull off this transformation of body and habitat so gracefully,” you thought out loud. “If my living conditions changed so drastically, I would’ve felt like a fish out of water… Quite literally, I guess.”

“Admittedly, those first months were rather rough, that’s true. But the world above the Coral Sea holds so many new experiences, I do not regret my decision.” His hands gently squeezed your sides at that, his eyes never leaving yours. Faintly you wondered whether his people could enrapture humans with just their gaze or if it was your own heart which rendered you defenceless against him.

“I’m also glad you came here, Jade,” you confessed, voice coming out barely above a whisper. This time you couldn’t stop your palms from cupping his cheeks between them as he brought you just close enough to where Azul couldn’t reprimand him for indecency. “Would you mind telling me more about the differences you experienced? I want to learn more about your home, too.”

“Gladly,” the moray smiled at you and it warmed your heart despite the hint of sharp teeth showing through. “Let’s see… Ah, I enjoy looking up at the stars, especially when out in the mountains. It’s a very different feeling than from the ocean and it makes me forget the passage of time, even though I have no particular interest in astrology.”

“Sounds like a date in the making, if you ask me,” you grinned knowingly. Every so often, Jade pestered you into switching clubs to the mountain lovers club and while you had yet to relent, you did join him on hikes frequently.

“I will hold you to that,” he promised, eyes crinkling at the edges as if he had gotten just what he wanted. Knowing him, he probably had been gunning for exactly that without you noticing. “Now then, what else did I find astounding when I first came here? Most of it are probably minor things to you, like sneezing, cracking your joints or getting a sunburn. Still hearing the first two was very alarming initially. Azul and I thought Floyd had broken a bone.”

“To be fair, sometimes it does sound like something went incredibly wrong when someone cracks their spine or neck,” you shuddered, reminded of the sounds Ace and Deuce had produced in the past which had you halfway to the nurses office already. “A sunburn must have been a nasty surprise though.”

“That it was,” Jade sighed. “There’s hardly anything worse than drying out for a merman, so we didn’t spend much time in the sun anyway. But to learn that a human’s skin is so easily burned by something they need for their health… Speaking of sunlight, considering it does not reach the depths of my home, everything seemed excessively bright up here too in the beginning.”

“Woah, maybe I underestimated how cold and dark your home is, by my standards at least. Like, no sunlight at all? I’d probably freeze,” you laughed, goosebumps forming under your blazer and shirt at the mere thought.

“Hm, I guess it must seem so to you. When I first learnt about the summer temperatures at land I also thought it wouldn’t be bearable,” Jade chuckled, a spark of mischief in his eyes that you couldn’t place yet. “But an environment devoid of light gives way to many new possibilities in which life can evolve. Sure, you have to always be on guard for what’s lurking around the next corner but you also get to appreciate the colourful glow of bioluminescent fish and plants.”

“The first part sounds terrifying, to be quite honest.” You knew he only ever brought these things up to get a reaction out of you but you still wondered what his life was like to be able to say it with such a calm expression. Instead, you chose to focus on something more pleasant. “Though the bioluminescence sounds beautiful. Back home there were beaches where algae turned the sand and waves a fluorescent blue, so I wonder what it would look like underwater.”

“Would you like to see?” Jade asked, one hand sneaking from your waist to intertwine his fingers with yours. Anticipation was almost tangible in the air, yet you couldn’t figure out why for the life you. So despite the hairs on your neck standing on end, you nodded. Immediately, Jade had risen to his full height and was pulling you along through Octavinelle’s winding hallways.

“Jade! Where are we going?” You laughed, not expecting the sudden switch up. Though that was probably on you; despite hiding it much better than his brother, Jade still tended to do only what was fun to him.

“Oh, you’ll see,” your boyfriend smiled conspiratorially over his shoulder, eyes twinkling like a kid’s on Christmas. He was seriously cute when he got excited about something, even if it meant finding yourself at the end of his teasing more often than not. Considering he was very fond of growing all sorts of things in his terrariums, perhaps he had managed to raise some sort of luminescent plant and this was a ploy for him to gush about his terrariums?

Confusion set in once more, however, when you walked in a different direction than his room. Sure, you didn’t know the structure of Octavinelle all too well but you’d think you’d find the one room you had visited most in the dorm. Wracking your brain in order to figure out what was happening in his, you almost bumped into the moray as he came to a halt in front of one of the many doors. You had never been here before, so you braced yourself for any- and everything as he twisted the doorknob.

The first thing you noticed was the smell of salt and the humidity in the air. Then you noted how you couldn’t see anything in the pitch black darkness. As if he heard your thoughts, a small, dim light flickered on above, revealing tiled floors leading up to a large pool. Of course Octavinelle would have a pool of this size.

Following Jade to the edge of the pool, you peered into the water to find only your reflection staring back at you from the water, the lack of light turning it from clear to near intransparent.

“Seems kinda of irresponsible to cultivate plants or fish in a school swimming pool, don’t you think?” You voiced your doubts as you remembered why you came here in the first place. “How deep is this thing anyway? I can’t see anything in there.”

“Who said anything about fish or plants?” Jade’s chuckle reverberated around the room from behind you and when you turned to see what was so funny, you saw him neatly folding his uniform blazer before starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait, hold on.” You held up your hands as you tried putting one and one together, just to end up at three. “Not that I particularly mind where this is going but what’s happening right now?”

There was a shit-eating grin stretching across Jade’s lips and revealing his sharp teeth as he shrugged off his shirt, sauntering over to where you were standing as he slipped his gloves off.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to see bioluminescence for yourself?” At his newfound proximity, you quickly averted your eyes from his swimmer’s body, to feign at least some form of decency, which seemed to amuse him even more. “Have I never told you that my people possess a form of bioluminescence ourselves?”

“You conveniently forgot to mention that.”

“An oversight on my part, my apologies,” Jade hummed, a hand placed over his heart, sounding not sorry at all.

“That aside, it’s not like I brought any swimwear,” you sighed, looking at his eyes and decidedly nowhere else. “Nor can I breathe or open my eyes in saltwater.”

Out of thin air, seemingly, Jade procured a small phial of shimmering liquid; the same one Azul had given to you when you went to the Coral Sea. At his unreadable smile, you raised an eyebrow but nonetheless took the potion from him. “How much of this did you plan out?”

“Fufu, do you really think I would carefully steer a conversation a certain way just to give me an excuse to bring you here?” When your answer was a resounding ‘yes’, he grinned even wider. “I see, this is the impression you have of me.”

“Also, this still doesn’t solve our first predicament,” you reminded him, yet already finding your resolve to deny him weakening. Damn the effect he had on you.

“I can’t see the predicament you speak of at all,” Jade mused, hands landing on your hips again as his fingers pinched the fabric of your uniform. “Perhaps this is a good chance for you to experience how a merperson would feel, swimming freely without any restrictive layers. You were so eager to learn earlier.”

“Jade Leech, are you suggesting I go skinny dipping in a public college pool?” You only received a closed-eye smile as a response as his hands tugged more of your shirt out of your pants. “I can’t believe you. And I can’t believe myself for going along with this…”

The vice housewarden was more than okay with undoing his former handiwork and helping you out of your tie, blazer and shirt. When it was time to remove the rest of your clothes, he left you to your own devices to do the same. For a second you contemplated leaving on your underwear but decided against it at the thought of having to walk back to your dorm with it either soaked or missing.

A splash behind you drew your attention as you draped your last article of clothing over the back of a chair you had found and you chugged down the potion, then ambled over to the pool’s edge again. Dipping your toes in, you breathed a sigh of relief when the water wasn’t too frigid, yet still settled for sitting down and hanging your legs in first.

After a minute or so of acclimating to the temperature, you wondered where your boyfriend had gone, unable to see anything in the dark water. Just then, a cold hand wrapped around your ankle. Despite knowing what -or rather who- it was, you still jerked your leg upwards, but it wasn’t like you got very far, Jade’s strength keeping you exactly where you were. A pair of mismatched eyes stared at you from right under the surface before Jade’s head emerged and broke through the water’s surface.

“Looks like I caught myself a pearl,” he mused before gliding his webbed fingers up your bare claves, sending a jolt up your spine, but not from the coldness. Crossing his arms over your knees, he laid his head down on them so he could look at you properly, his bare chest resting against your legs. If it weren’t for the long shadow of his tail moving right under the water’s surface, he would have reminded you of an overgrown housecat.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do now?” You played along, running your hand through his wet, teal hair and gently caressing the fins where his ears would be. Sighing under your touch, his long nails absentmindedly traced over your thighs, careful not to hurt you. “Please don’t eat me.”

Cracking his left eye open at your teasing, he pressed a lingering kiss above your knee, his teeth lightly gracing the skin there as he pulled away. Definitely not enough to hurt in any way, but enough to remind you of the danger he could pose; a notion that sent adrenaline racing through your body for all the wrong reasons. He winked at you, maybe as a promise for later. “We’ll see about that.”

As he parted from you, he pushed himself up in a display of awe-inspiring core strength and pulled you against him by your waist and thighs, taking you with him as he slowly sank under the surface again. Your hands tried finding purchase on his shoulders, yet continued to slip over the slick covering his skin. Jade, however, had no difficulties holding on to you.

On instinct you had closed your eyes and held your breath as you submerged but the careful caress of a thumb over your cheekbone prompted you to open them and take a tentative lungful of air. Just as back in the Coral Sea, the sensation was weird and unfamiliar but you didn’t drown, which you noted down as a pro.

Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue as you looked at Jade. Bright spots glowed on his chest and the stripes running over his ribs glowed in an equally stunning teal. Backing up so he was a good arm’s length away, you studied the rest of him, finding that the stripes over his hips as well as clusters of spots on his arms and fins all seemed to be luminescent.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, yet he still pulled you flush against his torso again. Without much hesitation you started tracing the constellations you could reach. “They’re like stars.”

The moray was glad you couldn’t see his face from your position for an uncharacteristically genuine expression of shock decorated his face. Nobody back at home had ever complimented him so genuinely without any ulterior motives. Yes, he had been the one who instigated this little stunt but he hadn’t factored in that you always managed to tug on his heartstrings in the end. At first, he had been a little wary, wondering what you thought about his merform, especially after he had chased you around the sea like this before, but he realised he shouldn’t have worried.

“And you flatter me yet again,” he chuckled instead, tone and expression back to his usual show of amusement. Still, he looped his long tail around your middle once as his hands wandered over your curves and stroked along your skin that was so much more delicate compared to his. “Should I perhaps be wary that you are lowering my defences for nefarious reasons?”

“Ah and here I was hoping you wouldn't notice,” you sighed, fingertips brushing over the bright spots littering his tail as you held his gaze, his yellow eye almost glowing against the darkness that surrounded you. “Despite all the warnings I’ve intended to steal from you. This, to be precise.”

Maybe it was the fact it was just the two of you down here and the rest of the world was forgotten, that drove you to be so straightforward and sappy. But the rhythmic beating of his heart underneath your palm dispelled any feelings of shyness or awkwardness at the -frankly cliché- confession of affection.

Not that Jade seemed to mind either. Before you caught up to what was happening he closed the gap between you and pressed his lips against yours. Perhaps taking the potion earlier was inconsequential after all as Jade moved with the intention of robbing you of all air anyway, the webbed fingers on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wanted you. You cursed your lungs for burning with the need for oxygen, never having yearned for gills as much as in this moment, if it meant you could keep kissing him for just a second longer. Before he parted from you completely he bit down on your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood but just so to leave it tingling from his attention.

“What a silly little darling,” Jade mused, tracing the shallow indents of his teeth with the pad of his thumb as he drank up the expression on your face. The coil of his tail around you grew just a tad tighter, yet still careful not to hurt you, as a sudden wave of possessiveness washed over him. “Everybody knows you can’t steal what’s already yours.”

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lemonlover1110 · 7 months

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

Suguru Getou & Kento Nanami

[Chapter 1] A Very Special Birthday

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Pairing: Suguru Getou x f!Reader x Kento Nanami

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“Mommy.” There’s someone poking your face over and over again, very early in the morning. It’s a lot of work for you to get your eyes open, but you eventually get them open to find your now three-year-old with a bright smile on her face. Her energy is infectious which causes you to smile as well. You fill up her face with kisses until she stops you, claiming, “Brush your teeth.”

“You could be nicer, Sayuri.” You respond with a chuckle. You stand up from the bed and walk to the bathroom to start your morning. You rush this morning since you want to rush to be by your baby’s side. But when you exit the bathroom, she isn’t in your room. You furrow your brows, but your eyes land on the half open door. You catch the smell of the delicious food, and you immediately know who else is joining you in the apartment.

You walk out of your room to find your daughter pulling the hem of her father’s pants. His back is to you since he’s facing the stove. He doesn’t wear anything special today even though it’s a very special day; just black jeans, and a long black sleeve shirt that’s rolled up to show off his sleeves of tattoos– And because it’s hot since he’s near a stove. You hear Suguru tell her, “Why don’t you wait by the table, princess? I’m scared you’ll get burned if you’re around here.”

“I wanna help.” She says but he’s hearing none of it. And to help out Suguru, you walk over to them and pick her up from the floor. You kiss her face over and over again.

“There’s my sweet birthday girl. How are you, honey?” You ask, and there’s a bright smile on her face. She forgets about the fact that she wants to help out her father, and remembers the fact that it’s her very special day; she’ll forget about it in a couple of minutes, but she gets so very excited when she remembers. “How does it feel to be three?”

“Good.” She answers. Suguru finally gets her breakfast off the stove and cuts it into small pieces for his precious daughter. He opens the fridge and he asks,

“You want whipped cream on your pancakes?” And she almost bursts your eardrums as she yells back a very enthusiastic yes. It’s a very special occasion, of course Suguru is going to spoil his little princess. When the sweet breakfast is ready, he sets it down on the table for her, and you put her down so she can take a seat.

You glance at it, pancakes smothered in syrup with some strawberries and blueberries on top– And of course, the whipped cream the Suguru added. You two watch as she begins to eat, and when she takes her first bite, Suguru says, “I made some pancakes for you too.”

“You better, or else I would’ve kicked you out.” You joke, although he takes the threat seriously. He did use your stove and your ingredients to make the breakfast, the very least he could do is make some for you. You prepare your plate, watching how Suguru takes a seat next to his daughter. You speak up, “Didn’t you make anything for yourself?”

“I had some breakfast with Kumi.” He answers, and your brows raise. You don’t give it much thought though, that’s his girlfriend. You just were expecting him to have breakfast with his daughter, that’s all. At the very least, he sits next to her after making her a delicious plate of food. He focuses his attention on his daughter, laughing as she makes a mess. “Is that good, princess? You seem to enjoy it.”

“Yes.” She answers with her mouth still full of food, which is something that Suguru would usually reprimand her for but he lets it slide this morning. You walk over to the table and take the other seat beside her, quietly beginning to eat.

Suguru watches his greatest gift, a subtle smile on his lips. Her birth wasn’t all that ideal since your pregnancy wasn’t planned at all but she became his whole world when he first listened to her heartbeat. You were friends with Suguru, and after he broke up with his girlfriend, he needed a rebound. You were also having some romantic problems, and it ended up in you seeking comfort in each other. Your relationship (if it can even be called that) ended a couple months after, when he got back with his girlfriend, Kumi. Your friendship practically ended because there was no way you could go back to normal after hooking up, in the end, you had no option but to go back to being friends since you were pregnant.

Your pregnancy was rather… A weird one. When you found out, your first thought was to get an abortion since you weren’t with Suguru, but when you told him the news, the man almost begged you to keep the baby. After much pondering, you decided to keep your daughter and to raise her alongside Suguru, even if you weren’t together. He moved in shortly after, and lived with you for the first two years of her life, moving out recently to be with his on-and-off girlfriend.

Luckily, you have no complaints about them. Kumi is a wonderful figure for your daughter, and while you aren’t friends, you are civil with each other. She has a good reason to not like you, plus, she’s not the easiest woman to get along with.

“What do you want to do today, Sayuri?” You ask. You’ll be having a small birthday party later in the night, but you don’t have anything planned out for the day. She puts her tiny index finger on her chin, tilting her head slightly to the side. She thinks about what she wants to do, she just has so many options.

“I have a very busy day, so I won’t be able to join you.” Suguru answers, and you’re surprised that he booked clients today of all days. The past two birthdays the man refuses to do any tattoos because he wants to spend all day with his daughter. It seems that his priorities slowly shift… He’s been working a lot lately though, and you might have an idea why.

“It’s alright, Kento is joining us.” You respond, and you watch him roll his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He tries to act like it doesn’t bother him, but you know it does. You don’t understand why he’s so hostile with Kento, the pair used to get along well before Sayuri was born, but they seem to butt heads since her birth.

“Doesn’t he have to work?” He asks, and you shake your head in response.

“He asked for the day off.” You tell him, and he scoffs. You can’t help but ask, “Why are you so… Annoyed by it?”

“Sayuri, when you’re done, can you go to your room to change out of your pajamas?” He looks at his daughter, and her brows furrow.

“I haven’t told mommy yet.” She answers, and Suguru sweetly smiles at her.

“You will in a minute, I have to talk to her about something. It’s a surprise.” He lies to lure her away, but she doesn’t easily fall for it. Her ears perk up at the mention of a surprise, which clearly wasn’t Suguru’s best option of words.

“I wanna know.” She says, and Suguru shakes his head. She gives him doe eyes, hoping that’ll help persuade her father since it’s worked in the past. It doesn’t though.

“It’s a surprise. If you know then I won’t be able to give it to you.” Suguru responds, and she has no option but to stand up from her chair and walk to her room. When she tries to slam the door of her room, Suguru speaks up, “Why does he act like he’s her father? Are you two dating or what?”

“If we were dating, it’d be none of your business. We’re just friends anyway, he just wants to be there for her.” You tell him, and of course he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t like that, it’s clear that Kento is trying to be a parental role and Suguru doesn’t like that. Sayuri has one father, that’s all she needs. “She adores Kento anyway.”

“Isn’t he coming to the birthday party? Isn’t that enough?” Suguru replies. You click your tongue, annoyed by his response.

“He took the day off to come with us, the very least I can do is allow him.” You answer, and he stands up from the chair to clean up. You’re not telling Kento to stay home because of the simple fact that Suguru doesn’t like the man– He chose to work today, that’s his own fault.

“I’m Sayuri’s father.” He says, and you chuckle.

“I didn’t say otherwise, Kento is not even my boyfriend.” You stand up as well, grabbing your plate and taking it to the sink as Suguru begins to do the dishes.

“He likes you.” Suguru states, and you let out a sigh. Suguru always had the bad habit of accusing every man that looks your way of liking you. You had serious problems with his jealousy when you were seeing each other.

“I wish. He’d be the perfect step father for Sayuri.” You comment, and he clenches his jaw. He’s about to say something about it, but Sayuri calls your name and you rush to her aid.

“Need help.” She says, and you rush to her side to help her change into the outfit that she picked out. You help her put on the yellow dress and the black leggings, before going to the bathroom to grab her hair products to style her hair. You sit on her bed, and she kneels in front of you so you can brush her hair.

“Did you pick, baby? What do you want to do?” You ask her, hoping it’ll take her mind off the fact that you’re doing her hair. Each of your movements always results in a whine from her, even though you’ve barely touched her hair.

“Playground? Please?” She responds, and you hum in response. You knew she’d land on something similar. You feel Suguru’s eyes on you, staring from the doorway, watching as you do his daughter’s hair.

“What are you doing, Suguru? It’s weird for you to just stare.” You tell him, grabbing one of Sayuri’s bee hair clips and putting it in the front of her hair.

“Just waiting for you to finish, I have to get going soon.” Suguru says, and Sayuri rises from the floor, running to her father. He picks her up from the floor and kisses her cheek. He caresses her cheek, “Happy birthday, princess. I love you.”

“I love you.” She answers, and it makes the man smile from ear to ear.

“I’ll come back with your present, princess. You’re going to love it.” He kisses her cheek again before putting her down on the floor. He waves at you, and before he can go you speak up,

“Are you still showing up to help me set up?” He nods in response. You awkwardly smile at him before waving, and he waves again before walking away.

“Can we go?” Sayuri asks, and you shake your head.

“Girl, I’m still in my pajamas. Wait for me to get ready.” You chuckle, and she sticks out her bottom lip. You stand up and begin to walk out of the room, and she follows behind you. She never leaves you alone, and honestly, you’re glad she doesn’t.

“Mommy, hurry.”

You keep a close eye on Sayuri as she runs around. You often wonder how so much energy resides in such a small body. She’s sweating as she goes down the slide and quickly runs to go up again. She happily does it over and over again, and you almost laugh, knowing that after the second time you’d be too tired to go up the slide again.

So focused, you miss the man that approaches you, until he finally greets you. You put your hand over your heart, spooked by him. He notices and apologizes, and you stand up from the bench. You playfully hit his arm before giving him a side hug.

“How are you, Kento? I didn’t expect you to come so fast.” You take a seat again, and he takes a seat next to you. He searches the playground, and he spots Sayuri quickly. She’s wearing something yellow, it seems to be her favorite color lately.

“I have nothing to do this morning, so of course I came to see my two favorite girls.” He says, and you immediately think of Suguru. He’s plaguing your mind with stupid ideas. Kento simply isn’t very popular with women, so of course you and your daughter are his favorite girls. “How has she been doing today? Does she realize it’s her birthday?”

“She does, had to tell her like three times but now she knows. She’s using it to her advantage too.” You share, and it makes a chuckle escape his lips. He expected nothing less from her, in fact, he’s proud. “She’s expecting a big gift from you.”

“And she will get one. I’ll give it to her at her birthday party.” He assures you. You love the fact that he spoils her, he’s the absolute sweetest with her. Suguru gets jealous over the fact that Kento is trying to become a father figure to your daughter, but you think it’s sweet. Plus, Kento is more of an uncle than a wannabe father. “Did you already eat breakfast?”

“Suguru came over and made us something.” You answer, and his brows raise, surprised. You don’t understand his reaction though, Suguru always shows up for his daughter. Kento should know better than anyone. Then you hear his stomach growl and you chuckle, reaching into your bag to pull out a snack for him, “I expected you of all people to have eaten something.”

“I’ll just get something to eat after this.” He doesn’t take the snack from your hands, assuming that it’s for Sayuri. He doesn’t want to take something that’s supposed to be for your daughter. You insist that he takes the snack, forcing his palm open and putting the bag in his grasp.

“We’re going out to lunch after this, but that’ll take a while. I have other food packed for Sayuri.” You insist, and Kento opens the small bag of chips. You laugh, looking at the other stuff that you have packed. “She’ll be eating baby carrots.”

“Baby carrots? She’s going to hate me.” He responds, almost spitting out the chips in his mouth because of his sudden regret– He then realizes just how fucking gross that is so he continues chewing slowly.

“She likes baby carrots, you’ll be fine. Just hide the bag– She’s coming over now.” You warn him, and he hides the bag behind him. Sayuri’s eyes land on him, and she runs over to him with open arms, causing the man to stand up from his seat and crouch down. He welcomes her warm hug, a smile on his lips.

“I missed you, Nanamin.” It makes Kento hug her tighter, but his grip loosens since he gets scared that he’s hurting her in any way. He comes around a lot, but lately he’s gotten too busy. You’re the one that sees him, Sayuri spends the night with her father and you go out with Kento. But their usual princess movie marathons haven’t been happening, and she can’t remember the last time she played dolls with the man that’s in front of her. He kisses her temple before saying,

“I missed you too, Sayuri. Happy birthday.” He responds, and she thanks him. She walks over to you, and Kento retakes his seat.

“Want my snack.” She tells you, and you reach into your bag to pull out the baby carrots.

“What do you say?” You ask her, and she shrugs.

“I’m hungry.” She answers, and you can only blame Suguru for it. You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Please, you say please.” You correct her. You give her the baby carrots, and she quietly begins to munch on them. It makes Kento feel less bad about the fact that he’s eating her bag of chips. He quietly brings it out of hiding, and her eyes light up when she notices it. She extends her small palm out and gives him puppy eyes.

“Can I have some, please?” She puts on her sweetest voice, and she magically remembers the word that seems to slip her mind. Kento isn’t going to refuse. He forgets he’s hungry and how his stomach feels uncomfortable, and he gives her the whole bag of chips. She squeals happily, thinking she has the best uncle in the world, little does she know that the chips are originally hers and he stole them.

“What do you want for lunch?” Kento asks her while she stuffs her mouth. She ends up shrugging, not having anything in mind since the only thing she wants to eat is the chips that she holds in her hand. Your hand goes to her back and rests on it while you look down at her.

“Do you want a burger, baby? You were begging for one last night.” You suggest, and her eyes light up as she looks up at you. She nods her head in response, getting excited at the thought of eating a cheeseburger with fries. “Then we’ll get one.”

“I was just thinking of a burger too. Great minds think alike.” Kento comments, and she hums in response. She finishes her bag of chips and runs back to the playground. Leaving you alone, you talk with Kento about your lives, mostly joking around with each other.

You dress Sayuri in her special outfit, one that she picked out for this very important occasion. She wanted to look like a certain princess that has a yellow dress, a princess that’s become her favorite for the simple fact that the outfit she wears is her favorite color. You have to prepare the place for her birthday party, and while you were expecting Suguru to show up and help you out, he leaves you stranded. Luckily, you can call Kento for backup and he comes running to aid you; with his help, you manage to get the house and everything ready.

“Are you okay?” Kento asks, when he catches you washing some dishes. He cleaned everything up, so he wonders why you’re cleaning everything again. And why you’re doing it so harshly. Waiting for an answer is useless. He grows impatient. “Does this have to do with Suguru?”

“He told me he was going to come here to help. His family, my family, our friends, and some of Sayuri’s daycare friends. And look at him, he’s not here. He’s not answering my calls either.” You say. “He’s a son of a– You know what? Go check on Sayuri. I have to finish this.”

“You sure? I can finish up here and you can get ready…” Kento offers, but you shake your head in response. You’re far from ready, but in order to relax yourself you need to clean up. It’s odd, but it’s the way you relax. “I’ll go check on her then.”

When you finish rewashing the dishes, you look for another chore to redo. But you look at the time, and realize that you do have to start getting ready. You take a moment to check up on Kento and Sayuri, finding them playing with her dolls before you walk to your room. You leave the door open and change your outfit into something that isn’t your rags, and you put on some light makeup. You don’t put in a lot of effort into it but you manage to look cute. Presentable for your guests.

“You look beautiful.” Kento says when he sees you again. The corner of your lips turn upward, and you mutter a thank you. Your daughter tries to force Kento to pay attention to the rag doll that’s in his hands, and she does so best by hitting him with the plush that’s in her hand. You give her a mom look which is enough to scare her; you’re grateful for it because it’s her birthday and you have no intention of raising your voice at her.

“Sorry, Nanamin.” She sticks out her bottom lip, something that always works when she needs to be forgiven. He wraps his arms around her, assuring her that it’s okay. She pulls away and asks you, “When is daddy coming?”

“I don’t know, honey. He should get here soon.” You answer. You wish you could reach the man that’s ignoring your calls. He’ll probably show up around the time guests do so you won’t be able to berate him. Knowing him, he’ll leave before you can even get a word in. You think about calling him again, even though you have a feeling your call will go unanswered for the umpteenth time. You then tell her, “Clean up your toys. People will get here soon.”

“Okay.” She answers, and she takes the rag doll from Kento and begins to put them in her toy box. She leaves her favorite doll on her bed, and then walks to you. You grab her hand and take her to the table that you’ve decorated with her favorite princess. You pick her up and sit her down in the middle of the table.

“Let’s take some photos, baby.” You tell her, and you take out your phone to begin taking pictures of her. She smiles showing her teeth, clearly forcing herself to smile for the camera. It makes you laugh. You call Kento and he’s by your side within seconds. He knows what to do immediately, taking the phone from your hand as you walk over and pose by your baby’s side. Kento comments how good you both look and tells you to say “cheese” before snapping a couple of pictures.

“Your turn, Kento. Stand right next to her.” You take the phone from his hand and he poses next to her. The first picture is awkward, but then Sayuri stretches her arms up, wanting to be picked up. So he does it. The second picture is much cuter, and you swear you’ll print it out and frame it. Sayuri and her uncle Nanamin. It makes you say, “Let me take another picture. You two are so cute.”

You’re so caught up in what you’re doing that you don’t hear the front door open, and when you realize, it’s because Suguru’s voice enrages you, “Aw are taking pictures without me?”

“Let me take another one.” You completely ignore Suguru, deciding that yelling (your way of voicing your feelings at the moment) isn’t the best thing to do right now. You have your daughter that’s right in front of you. Suguru doesn’t like being ignored, if you don’t acknowledge him, neither will Kento. Sayuri only speaks up when Kento puts her on the ground, and that’s when she runs to her father, excited to finally see him again.

“There’s my princess. How are you doing, baby? I hope your day has been amazing.” Suguru kisses her cheeks when he picks her up from the ground. You cross your arms as you watch them, your eyes falling on Kumi who is staring back at you. Disdain in her eyes which makes you roll your eyes. You usually try to disguise your annoyance, but today you’re fed up with her and her boyfriend. You don’t have the energy to be nice to them.

“Kento, come with me to the kitchen, please.” You look at Kento, and he nods in response. He follows after you. He helps you out with what you need to finish up, doing so quietly since he senses you’re annoyed. He watches as you get more irritated as you hear Suguru and Kumi talking to your daughter.

“Surprised you didn’t yell at him.” Kento lowers his voice to talk to you, not wanting anyone to hear. You raise your brows, a sigh leaving your lips.

“Not while Sayuri is there.” You answer. You don’t want to cause a scene yet. The doorbell rings, and you have to take a deep breath. You need a minute to calm down. The man that’s next to you knows you like the back of his hand. He ends up saying,

“I’ll open the door.”

Interacting with everyone at first is hard, but you loosen up and stop paying attention to Suguru around an hour in. You’re celebrating your baby’s third year of life, you shouldn’t let Suguru ruin your night. You manage to ignore him at the beginning of the night, talking to friends and family, as well as paying attention to your daughter.

There comes a moment that you do have to interact with him, and it’s when you have to sing happy birthday to your daughter. Even then, you don’t pay much attention to him. Kento turns off the lights and you light up three small candles before everyone begins to sing to your daughter.

Her eyes glance at the tiny fires in front of her, and she’s too engrossed by it to pay attention to the people that sing to her. Until she hears her name, and she looks up at her father and then at you. You two chuckle, exchanging a look with each other before focusing back on her. When the song comes to an end, Suguru has to remind her, “Blow out the candles, princess.”

When she finally puts her lips together and blows out the candles, and the moment the candles are put out, Kumi steps out of the place which causes Suguru to run after her. Your annoyance is back and worse than before. You usually take pictures with her after the candle is blown out– Either during her birthday, Suguru’s, or yours, it’s your tradition. But he steps out for some reason.

“Where’s Suguru? I want to take some pictures.” Suguru’s mother asks when the lights are turned back on. Sayuri also looks around for her father, but she doesn’t spot him. Luckily, she spots Kento and she extends her hand and reaches out for Kento.

“Nanamin.” She calls out for him, and he runs to be by her side. That’s when you take your customary pictures, even if they aren’t with Suguru. Kento takes his place, and helps Sayuri cut the first slice of the cake. They both hold a knife and Kento sticks it into a corner of the cake. They serve the first slice, and they put it on a paper plate. Kento then gives it to her.

“You can eat it, honey. I’ll finish up here.” Kento tells her, and she gets off the chair that she stands on, walking to the couch to eat her slice of cake. Kento begins to serve everyone a slice, and you’re thankful that he’s by your side because you’re so close to losing it.

“Thank you.” You mutter to Kento, helping him serve the cake. You finish up, making sure there isn’t a single slice left for Suguru or Kumi, and you take a seat.

Ten minutes later, they’re back inside, and Kumi looks annoyed. Suguru sighs and looks around before he says, “I hope there’s some cake left.”

“There isn’t.” You answer. You make sure to hum the next time you take another bite, wanting to make note of how good the cake is, and how he won’t be having any. Until your daughter gives her plate to her father, putting her hand over her tummy and announcing,

“I’m full.” He happily takes the plate from her. He offers some to his girlfriend, but she shakes her head in response. Her arms are crossed and she tries to make herself go unnoticed. Suguru tries to sit down on the empty spot next to you, which causes you to stand up and practically run elsewhere.

Your anger doesn’t go unnoticed.

Shortly after, people begin to leave one by one. Sayuri wants to open her gifts, but you hold off till almost everyone is gone because you’re scared that she’ll react badly if she opens a gift she doesn’t like. Suguru’s parents are the last to leave, and you’re left with Kento, Suguru, Kumi, and your daughter, of course.

You’re about to pick a random gift to give to her, but Suguru says, “Open mine first!”

He grabs the gift that he wrapped for his baby girl, and he gives it to her. She unwraps it, and her tiny brows furrow. It’s a cute pink stuffed animal… She glares at her father and then says, “I don’t like it.”

“Huh? Kumi told me that it’s what kids want these days. Her niece has one and she loves it.” Suguru says, but that doesn’t change his daughter’s mind. She tosses it to the side, and while you’d lecture her about being grateful for her gift, you’re mad at Suguru. He deserves it for the awful gift.

“Nanamin.” She looks at Kento, and he raises his brows before realizing what she wants. He looks for his gift. He gives it to her, and her eyes light up when she unwraps it and sees a doll that she keeps seeing on TV.

“What do you say, Sayuri?” You say, and she wraps her arms around Kento. He wastes no time in hugging her back.

“Thank you.” She responds, and Kento smiles.

“I’m glad you like it, Sayuri.” Kento replies. You watch Suguru’s face, full of contempt which almost makes you smirk. Maybe some other time you’d worry about his thoughts, how he probably thinks that Kento is trying to take his place. But you hope that’s what he’s thinking now, and hope that he’s seething at the fact that your daughter prefers Kento’s gift over his dumb one.

You continue passing her gifts but none surpass Kento’s. She goes to her room to play with her new toys, while Suguru, Kento, and you clean up the place. Kento and Suguru find themselves alone in the kitchen, and Kento tries his best to ignore the man’s presence. But Suguru clears his throat to get Kento’s attention.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” Suguru comments, making Kento raise his brows in utter confusion. Kento looks around, wondering if Suguru is talking to him.

“And what is that?” Kento asks, putting the plate that he scrubs down in the sink, washing the soap off his hands. He crosses his arms, turning his attention to Suguru. He repeats the question, “What am I trying to do, Suguru?”

“You’re trying to play dad and I don’t like that. She’s my daughter.” Suguru says, making a scoff come from Kento’s lips. Kento isn’t exactly a confrontational man, he usually tends to agree with people that are in the wrong simply to move on past a problem; he doesn’t have the energy to deal with it all. But he can’t keep quiet for some reason.

“Trying to play dad? By what exactly? By being decent to my best friend and her daughter? By getting her daughter a gift she actually wanted?” He questions, and the attitude that comes from Kento’s voice makes his blood boil. How dare Kento talk to him like that? Who does he think he is? “Last time I checked, I’m just being a good friend, and a great uncle to Sayuri. I’m sorry that I act as a better father figure than you.”

“Excuse me?” There’s full offense in Suguru’s voice. Kento isn’t lying– At least not in his eyes. Sure, Suguru has been a great father but lately he’s been putting other matters before his daughter. Luckily for Sayuri, Kento can step in for her father.

“You heard me. Guess who spent most of the day with her? I did.” Kento responds. “I took her to lunch, and I was the one who came here to help set up the party. I’m starting to act more like her father than you.”

“I know you like her mother, but don’t you dare think that you’ll ever be anything like Sayuri’s dad. This is your first and only warning, Nanami.” Suguru sounds threatening, but Kento doesn’t take him seriously; at the very least, he doesn’t care. He won’t push it any further though, so Kento bites his tongue.

“Everything okay here?” You ask as you step into the kitchen. You couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but you knew they were talking even though the men never talk. Suguru is the one that speaks up,

“Why are you mad?”

“Why do you think, Suguru?” You put your hand on your hip. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”

He’s about to justify his actions– Not showing up to help set up, ignoring your calls, walking out right after singing happy birthday. He’s a guilty man, but he has to justify himself. And you know he does, and you stop him right on his tracks.

“Don’t. Not in the mood. Help Sayuri clean up her new toys and say goodnight. I can’t stand to look at you any longer.” You refrain from talking about his girlfriend because he’ll get upset, but you can’t stand having her in your house for another minute.

“Yes, ma’am.” Suguru answers, choosing his words carefully because he doesn’t want you to be mad at him. Suguru walks past you and out of the kitchen, and when he’s out of sight you walk to Kento. You kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for tonight, Kento. You’re simply the best.” He turns back to washing dishes because his face warms up, and he doesn’t want you to notice how his cheeks turn pink.

“You don’t have to thank me. I loved helping out.” And you stand still for a moment, watching how he washes your dirty dishes. You couldn’t have asked for a better friend.

#jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #suguru geto #getou suguru #getou #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami fanfic #nanamin #jjk nanami #geto fanfic

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shawtuzi · 2 years

Text

“She say I’m obsessed with thick women and I agree”

cw include: chubby reader, black coded reader but you can picture her however you’d like <3, slight talk of body image, size kink, drug and alcohol use, basketball player eren bc that deserves a warning, oral both receiving, unprotected sex, choking n a little manhandling, pussydrunk eren, squirting, lots of dirty talk and praise, mating press, sex standing up, backshots, creampie, eren has an abnormally huge dick...i think that's about it///wc: 4.3k

Eren Jaeger was known as a legend on campus. Not only on the basketball court but with the ladies as well. If you had a girlfriend it was common knowledge to keep her away from him because lord knows once a girl catches sight of him all morals are thrown out the window. Fortunately he did have a type; short and little on the chubbier side. Of course Eren thought all women were gifts from god in their own way but something about manhandling a chubby short girl into any position he wanted until she was crying made his dick jump every time he thought about it.

That’s where you come in.

It was a Friday night after a game and per usual there was a party in Eren’s honor seeing as though he carried the entire team through their last game of the season. Eren was sitting on the couch nursing a red solo cup filled slightly with Hennessy taking small sips every now and again (eren is a dark liquor type of man i wont be elaborating). In the other hand he had a blunt pearled and ready and to be lit until he laid eyes on you. “Holy shit…” he whispered, taking your physique in.

Short was one way to put it, everyone in the room was basically towering over you. The tight black dress you were wearing hugged your curves in the best way possible, the skimpy material barely covering your ass. “Hey Con” Eren grunted slapping Connie in the chest but not once taking his eyes off of you, “who the fuck is that.” Connie looked in your direction and smirked, “that Y/N but don’t even waste your time she just got out of a breakup with Jean he dumped her” he chuckled making Eren roll his eyes.

Jean was the schools quarterback as well as the frat president of the house he was currently partying in. Eren had now noticed you were following Jean around like a lost puppy trying to get his attention but he ignored you pretending you weren’t even there. Poor baby he thought to himself his heart wrenching when he saw tears brim your eyes. You were about to just call it quits and leave but Eren was quick hopping off the couch and right in front of you. “U-um excuse me” you mumbled, bringing your eyes up to the gorgeous emerald ones above you.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you I just saw how upset you were looking and was wondering if you wanted to share this?” he smiled holding the blunt in front of your face. You bit your lip contemplating if you wanted to take the risk of being seen with Eren. The girls here were very protective and cutthroat when it came to him plus Jean was not too far away and- what were you thinking??

“Yeah sure” you gave Eren a small smile and he beamed, grabbing your much smaller hand and bringing you to his previous spot on the couch. “I don’t think there’s enough ro- oh!” you gasped when Eren pulled you onto his lap, his arm finding purchase wrapped around your back. Normally you would’ve gotten right back up and just found literally anywhere else to sit but it felt oddly comforting being in Eren’s strong arms. “So what’s wrong you looked like you were about to cry back there” Eren chuckled lighting the blunt as if he already didn’t have a good idea.

“Well…my boyfriend broke up with me and I thought if I got all dressed up he would- I don’t know it’s stupid. He’s stupid” you pouted and it took everything in Eren not to kiss the adorable pout off your face. “Well for what it’s worth I think you look beautiful” Eren smiled passing the blunt to you, “if I was Jean I wouldn’t let you go for anything in this world.” You were absolutely speechless. Was the Eren Jaeger coming onto you? There’s no way.

Instead of responding you took a couple drags of the blunt trying to ignore Eren’s intense stare. His words kept on replaying in your mind like a broken record until you decided to speak up. “You really think I look beautiful? To tell you the truth I wasn’t so sure about this dress” you giggled starting to feel the effects of the drug. Your body image was never really a problem for you until you met Jean, it’s not like he ever straight up told you but the little microaggressions he would make here and there made you a tad self conscious.

Eren smirked, tightening his hold on you, “of course I mean it Y/N I don’t know if anyones ever told you but I prefer my women on the thicker side. A little tummy on a woman never hurt nobody” he laughed downing the rest of the Henny that was in his cup. By now Eren was the kind of fucked up to where he’d say whatever was on his mind and by the looks of it you were hanging on to his every word. “To be truly honest with you it’s probably a good thing the two of you broke up, Jean wouldn’t have any fucking idea what to do with all this” he whispered the last part in your ear making you whimper quietly.

“Can’t believe I’ve never seen you before, why were you hiding from me?” he chuckled, pulling you impossibly close until your faces were inches away from each other. “J-Jean didn’t want me going to your games, but I did go tonight which is probably why he’s not talking to me” you laughed breathlessly, “you did really good tonight I never actually realized how tall you were until I saw you next to all the other players.” You couldn’t help but trail your eyes to his abnormally large hand rest on your thigh squeezing it every so often.

“Well I am six-seven so yeah I’m pretty tall, I’m assuming you’re about four-eleven? Five foot?” he smiled, giving your thigh another squeeze. In the corner of his eye he saw Jean standing in the kitchen, smoke practically coming out of his ears at the sight of his ex-girlfriend in Eren’s lap. Before you had the chance to answer his question Eren lifted you off of his lap with ease urging you to stand up.

“Let’s get a drink yeah?”

Eren enveloped your small hand in his bringing you to the kitchen, completely ignoring Jean. He grabbed an empty solo cup pouring a shot of Henny into it, “drink up!” he smirked holding the cup in front of your face. You shakily took the cup out of his hand and he could tell you were hesitant so Eren being the sweetheart he was decided to help you out. He leant against the counter and pulled your back into his chest. It took all his willpower not to pick you up and fuck you on the counter with everything he had but he managed. “I’ll take this” he mumbled, grabbing the cup from you and wrapped his other hand around your throat making you squeak in surprise. “Now tilt your head back, open your mouth, and swallow” he grunted and you complied making a smile grace his face once more. He poured the foul tasting liquid down your throat until there was nothing left, “good girl” he whispered in your ear squeezing your neck softly before letting go.

You turned around and looked up at him lust swimming in your bloodshot eyes,”Eren” you whimpered clutching onto his hoodie. “C’mon follow me” he growled, grabbing your hand once more and dragged you upstairs but not before shooting Jean a wink, a quick way of saying ‘I just took your girl and there’s nothing you can do about it’.

Eren went into the first room he could find that was unlocked and pulled you in pushing you roughly against the door once it was shut. “You want me?” he asked tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “because I sure fucking want you.” You couldn’t speak too horny to even function. It was embarrassing. “Haven’t even touched you yet and you’ve already gone dumb how cute. Just nod your pretty little head and I’ll take care of you Y/N.” You were nodding before he even finished talking, feeling your wetness begin to trickle down your thighs.

Eren pushed his hand under your dress cupping your sensitive pussy, the both of you moaning at the contact. “Shit you’re fucking soaked. Good thing too I’m gonna need to prep you before you take me” he growled rubbing your clit over your panties. You brushed your hand against the bulge in his pants gasping at how thick he was, “I’m not even fully hard yet either I’ll let your imagination run wild with that while I eat your sweet little pussy ‘kay?” Before you could reply Eren was on his knees hoisting your thighs over his broad shoulders. Being the good girl you were, you bunched your dress up to your waist giving him better access to your soaked center.

“That’s my girl” he whispered, pressing multiple kisses to your thick thighs sucking on the soft skin every now and again. “Don’t worry about me dropping you either, you weigh as light as a feather to me” he smiled, making your heart flutter. He could sense the hesitation on your face the second he picked you up and had to let it be known now and so on your weight would never ever be a problem in his eyes for as long as you would let him indulge you. “Eren you’re too- oh my gosh!” you squealed when you felt him lick, kiss, and suck at your pussy over your panties, the mixture of your wetness and his saliva soaking the material further.

You pulled your panties to the side to give him better access and his eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of your dripping, bare pussy in front of him. “Oh Y/N…” he whispered, making your heartbeat quicken negative thoughts beginning to swarm in your head. “I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to leave you alone after this, you’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen…never wanna let you go” he spoke more to himself than you. He licked a fat stripe up your pussy then wrapped his lips around your clit, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you. Sweeter than he imagined.

His shoulder length hair that was usually in a bun was down tonight and although he did look beautiful with his hair down from this angle it was slightly affecting his performance. “Baby” he grunted looking up at you through his eyelashes, “would you tie my hair up please it’s getting in my way” he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “Mhm” you whimpered, taking the hair tie from him with shaking hands. “You’re a doll” was all that was said before he dove back in, bringing your body closer to his face. Tying his hair up felt like mission impossible every time you bunch up his hair enough to tie back he would suck hard on your clit faltering your grip, almost like he was doing it on purpose.

“E-eren you’re making it- ah really hard to do this” you whined almost giving up until you felt a slap on your thigh. “Put my hair up or you aren’t cumming” he smirked spitting on your pussy before lapping at it once more. You moaned pathetically letting your head fall against the door and just when you thought it couldn’t get worse you felt something push against your entrance. “Ease up for me baby it’s just one finger” he chuckled, pushing his finger in slightly groaning at how tight you felt around him. “Just o-one?!” you gasped gripping at his soft locs. “Yeah and I actually think you’re ready for two now yeah?” he sent you a wicked smile before shoving a second finger in without warning.

The obscene squelching of your pussy made your cheeks heat up in embarrassment but Eren didn’t seem to care curling his fingers in a way that had you dripping on his palm down to his wrist. You bit your lip impossibly hard and tied Eren’s hair up sloppily strands of hair falling out of the bun by the minute. “There it’s tied up can I cum? I need to Eren” you whimpered feeling your thighs begin to shake. “Of course you can baby be a good girl and cum on my tongue” he growled bringing his mouth back to your pussy. Within minutes you were cumming high pitched moans and whines escaping your lips, “E-Eren” you huffed out attempting to push his head away.

With one last kiss to your clit Eren pulled away setting your legs down gently, standing at his height once more he brought his fingers to your lips a single to open your mouth. You sucked on his fingers greedily gagging slightly at how big they were. He pulled them out of your mouth with a string of saliva connecting to your lips, “you know I haven’t even kissed you yet and here you are sucking your cum off my fingers…cute” he smiled squishing your cheeks together. “You want me to kiss you Y/N?” he whispered resting his forehead against yours and you nodded tears brimming in your eyes at how bad you actually wanted him.

Eren licked his lips taking in how adorable you looked before pressing his lips against your shoving his tongue in your mouth. One hand was wrapped around your throat squeezing ever so softly while the other was possessively gripping your waist. Eren was relentless, barely letting you pull away for air then shoving his tongue down your throat. A smile graced his face when he felt your small hands pawing at his cock through his pants, “you want it?” he asked breathlessly, making you nod quickly. “Get on your knees.”

You obeyed, getting on your knees with quickness eager to please him. Eren slowly undid his belt then pulled his pants along with his briefs an accidental laugh escaping when he saw your reaction to his dick. It was a well known rumor on campus that Eren had a massive dick but this was nothing compared to what you thought. “Ten inches the most people can take is about half, but I think you can take all of it because you’re my good girl now right baby?” he smiled answering your question before you even had the chance, he stroked your cheek with his thumb looking at you with pure adoration. “Yeah m’your good girl” you whispered, taking him in your hand. He was so thick your hand could barely fit around and he was heavy, balls full and ready to fill you with every drop he could. You started off slow, taking only the tip in your mouth but as time passed Eren grew impatient insisting you needed a hand so being the sadist he was he grabbed your hair roughly shoving more of his cock into your mouth.

“Yeah that’s it fucking take it” Eren growled the tightness of your throat making him want to cum already. His dick was more than halfway in your mouth which made him adore you even more. He knew his good girl could take his cock with ease. “Just a little bit more c’mon baby you do it- fuck yeah there you go good fucking girl” he praised once his dick was fully sheathed in your mouth. You looked completely wrecked. The eyelashes you had glued on were coming undone and your makeup was streaked due to the tears that were streaming down your face. The glittery lipgloss you were wearing was no longer there, the remnants coated on Eren’s cock along with your saliva. His balls slapped against your chin roughly and you made sure to run your tongue over them adding to his pleasure.

“So fucking good” he brought his free hand to your throat feeling the bulge of his dick and that’s what finally did it. In seconds ribbons of cum were shooting down your throat and of course Eren made sure you swallowed every drop. “Fuck I don’t think I’ve ever cum that fast c’mere” he grunted bringing you to your feet for another sloppy kiss. You brought both your hands to Eren’s softening cock jerking it until you felt him start to harden up. “Mm Y/N” he moaned softly against your lips bucking into you every time you stroked his sensitive tip.

“Lay down…wanna fuck you now” he whispered and you complied taking off your dress before you did so, Eren following your lead and taking off his hoodie giving you a full view of his body. All those years of working out and playing basketball paid off wonderfully. You couldn’t help but drool at his physique. A tanned toned chest, swole arms, and deliciously thick thighs. He was every woman's dream but he was yours tonight.

“Look at you” he spoke softly, settling himself between your open legs “so so beautiful.” He pushed his cock slowly between your folds, coating his dick in your essence. “Look how far I’d be if I put my dick in all the way baby I’d be in your stomach” he chuckled, slapping his cock against your soft tummy, “you gonna let me put it all in you? Want my dick in your tummy?” he grinned at your quiet pleas finally giving into you. Eren gripped your plush thighs pushing them back until they were practically touching your ears before slowly pushing his cock in the both of you moaning in unison. “Eren I-” “I know baby I know so fucking tight” he growled halting his movement to let you adjust.

He was about halfway in and he wanted nothing more than to fill you up, to see the bulge in your tummy every time he fucked into you all he needed was the green light to do so. “You good? Gonna let me put the rest in?” he whispered, bringing his thumb to your swollen clit rubbing slow circles. “Y-yes please Eren” you whined squeezing around him. “F-fuck okay baby tell me if it hurts too much” he groaned pushing the rest of him cock in your already stuffed pussy. Eren rested his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering shut. You were gripping him like a vice already making him want to cum but he held back using every ounce of strength he had.

After taking a moment to gather himself Eren began fucking into you at a brutal pace the loud claps of his pelvis against your ass echoing throughout the room. “Ohhh shit” you cried, digging your acrylics into Eren’s flexing biceps. Eren brought one leg onto the bed and you knew he was about to put in some serious work. His pace went from fast and shallow to slow and deep, his swollen tip bumping against your cervix every time he fucked into you. “That feel good?” he grunted removing one hand from your thigh instead finding its place on your throat. “Yes Eren s’good” you sighed dreamily bringing both your hands to his face caressing the smooth skin of his cheeks. The moment was so raw, so intimate it honestly made you want to cry. “Feel so good-fuck you’re so beautiful should’ve been with me not him” he growled tightening his grip on your neck. “M’all yours Eren you can have me please please take me” he whined the lack of oxygen making your head fuzzy.

“P-put your arms around my n-neck” he panted planning to show you right now why he absolutely loves shorter women. You complied wrapping your arms around his thick neck, but what you weren’t expecting was for him to lift you up keeping you securely in his strong arms. His dick still remained inside you, the new angle sending shivers down your spine. “Don’t worry baby I’m not gonna drop you just pay attention to me and me only” he pressed a sweet kiss to your swollen lips before bringing both hands to your ass and proceeding to fuck you.

“Yes yes fuck Eren right there” you squealed burying your face into his cologne scented neck. You kissed and sucked at his neck and normally he wouldn’t be into that with his usual hookups but you were different. He wanted you to mark him up in fact he’d show the scratches and bruises proudly around campus letting everyone know he had the honor of fucking you.

Eren roughly pressed your body against the door fucking into you like his life depended on it. Before you knew it you were cumming covering Eren’s lower abdomen and thighs. Your thighs were shaking violently, tears of pleasure beginning to fall from your eyes. “Holy shit did you just squirt?” Eren laughed gripping bringing one hand up to grip your cheeks smushing them together. “Mhmm” you whimpered trying to recover as best as you could from your earth shattering orgasm, “never done that before” you mumbled feeling your cheeks begin to burn. “Want you to do that again… this time in my mouth.”

“Wha-?” before you could muster out anything else Eren was on his knees for you once more, your thick thighs caging his head. He took it upon himself to shove three fingers in your sopping pussy, his lips wrapping around your puffy clit. His fingers were consistently brushing against that spot that drove you crazy and he knew in no time you’d be cumming once again. The pleasure was so overwhelming you hadn’t even realized you were pushing Eren’s head impossibly close against your pussy giving him little to no room to breathe, but he didn’t care too drunk on the smell and taste of you to come up for air. In no time you were cumming once again soaking the entire bottom half of Eren’s face and his chest. “So fucking sweet I should really punsih you for keeping this pussy away from me too long but we’ll save that for next time yeah?” he grinned up at you, his heart rate quickening at your impending answer.

“Yeah…next time” you smiled back down at him, the thought of there being a next time making your heart flutter. Eren picked you up once more, bringing you back over to the bed and he could tell you were getting tired but he couldn’t stop, not until he's filled you up with his cum. “C’mon princess, arch your back for me” he huffed, wiping the excess cum off his face with the back of his hand. You being the good girl for him that you were arched your back giving him a mouth watering view of your swollen pussy. Eren wasted no time slipping himself back inside of your comforting heat feeling his orgasm quickly approach.

He grabbed both your arms pulling you against his chest putting you in a chokehold with his strong bicep (OMFGGGG IMAGINE okay anyways). “I’m so fucking close Y/N can I cum in you? Please lemme cum in you” he moaned pathetically, feeling his balls tighten. “Y-yes Eren please cum in me” you cried your eyes crossing from the lack of oxygen and immense pleasure you were receiving. “Ah fuck!” Eren growled pushing your face in the mattress pounding into you like a madman. With one final thrust he was filling your pussy with his cum so much it began to dribble out of your cunt trailing down your thighs. Eren’s legs gave out making him collapse on top of you, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Um Eren?” your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed into the bed, “you’re kinda crushing me” you giggled. “Oh shit my bad” he grunted rolling onto his back, he pulled you into his side stroking your back softly. The perfect moment was ruined though when the two of you heard the doorknob rattle and then hard knocks at the door, “who the fuck is in my room?!” the voice cried and your heart froze when you recognized it. Jean fucking Kirstien. “We’ll be out in a minute, asshole!” Eren snapped slightly annoyed at the fact that Jean has ruined this soft moment with you.

Eren stood up on shaky legs beginning to put his clothes back on, “get dressed m’gonna take you to my dorm so I can give you some proper aftercare” he smiled tossing you your dress. He sensed the skepticism on your face and looked back at the door trying not to show his annoyance, afraid you would think it was towards you. “I won’t let him say shit to you okay? You don’t need to worry about him anymore plus…I’ll give you a piggyback ride” he chuckled, giving you a cheeky smile that you returned. “Okay okay fine” you giggled putting your dress back on but something was missing. “What about my-” “Oh these?” he smirked holding up your damp panties between his fingers, “I think I’ll hold onto them for a bit.”

Once you looked semi presentable Eren finally unlocked the door revealing a gaping Jean too stuck to say anything. “Great party Jean and we’d love to stay but Y/N needs a little bit of tending to if you couldn’t hear” he smirked wrapping his arm possessively around your shoulders. After leaving the party Eren kept his promise and carried you all the way to his dorm making sure to kiss every mark he left on you along with multiple praises about how gorgeous you were and how lucky he was you gave him a chance. It turns out that Eren was right after all, Jean would never know what to do with all you had to offer…not like Eren does.

#eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren smut #eren yeager fluff #eren jaeger fluff #eren x reader #aot eren #aot smut #aot imagines #attack on titan smut #attack on titan imagine #eren aot #smut #snk eren #my writing #eren <3

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calirph · 27 days

Text

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓: 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍.

All these sentences were found on pinterests about romance, longing, pinning, sweet whispering, dirty talk and intimacy. Those that are intimate and smutty are label as such so please beware. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

For former lovers, separation and the longing:

I wish we never met, you are too hard to forget.

You don’t even know how beautiful you are.

You broke my heart. You killed me.

I just miss you all the time.

There is only one heart in this body. Have mercy on me.

For you it’s all just a game, isn’t it?

We all have our seasons, my issue is that all remind me of you.

I’m jealous of everyone who can see you everyday.

We will meet again in our dreams.

Perhaps in another life. . .we would’ve worked.

I don’t care how complicated this gets.

I wish you loved me like I love you.

Am I not good enough for you?

I wish it was easier to hate you.

Just because I let you go doesn't mean I wanted to.

Please stop making me think you are in love with me.

What is this? Whatever we have, it’s not longer simple.

You knew I loved you and you broke my heart anyways.

You left. I woke up one day and you were gone. Not even a goodbye.

I love you and it’s killing me.

Come back alive and I’ll say it. Come back to me and I’ll say anything you want.

I’ll wait for you, but don’t take forever.

I wish I had met you a long time ago.

You are putting words in my mouth.

I might be heartless but you are naive.

You’re right I don’t want to feel anything.

You are scared of the way I make you feel.

I have loved you since we were children.

Stop denying what happened between us.

You keep saying it was just an affair. But it wasn’t.

Who hurt you?

I’ll always find you.

Wherever you are, if you need me, I will find you. If you need me.

You don't need to say a word. I never expected you to feel the same.

You are still searching for me in every woman.

Intimacy between lovers, nsft:

You can control what I eat, what I wear, who I talk to.

Good girl, you are taking it so well.

You are making me proud.

This is just for you.

You're taking it so good.

Eyes on me while I fuck you, baby.

You like that, uh?

Lift your hips for me, love.

Mine. Only fucking mine.

If you can still walk, then we are not finished.

You say we are friends, but friends don’t know the way you taste.

Dirty and loyal, that’s my girl.

You deserve to be fucked until you can’t stand up.

Shh, just a bit more. That’s it.

There you go, that’s a good girl.

We have to be careful, we can’t fall in love.

I’m going to eat you up.

I’ll do things you never forget.

We are lovers, we can’t stop loving.

You little aristocrat, I want to fuck you. Teach you things, humiliate you.

I never stopped wanted you. I want you now so bad.

Maybe I should get on my knees and worship you.

Lift up your dress.

You don’t need pleasure, you need shivers.

I want you in my mouth.

Tie me up, tell me I’m yours, take control.

You got to be quiet or someone will hear you.

Does it get you wet? That someone might walk in?

Bend over, hands on the bed.

Brace yourself on the wall.

Are you going to come for me?

Come inside me, please.

You like a gentleman who knows how not to be gentle.

I can’t hate you. Not like this. Not now.

The taste of you is so addictive.

Do you want me to turn over? Take me from behind?

Oh, I thought you were mad at me.

Wet my fingers for me, sweetheart.

Use that mouth of yours.

Move with me, grind on it.

Did he ever touched you like this?

Don’t let a single drop go to waste.

Strip for me.

Do you let all your enemies fuck you like this?

Open up for me.

Don’t come until I give you permission.

Have I not been a good girl?

I learn fast. Does that feel good?

You deserve the best, because you are my good girl.

I'm going to ruin you.

#meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #◟ ⋆ memes › roleplay sources.

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moondirti · 9 months

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11. SUCK IT UP

CHAPTER ELEVEN OF ANIMALIC | MIGUEL O'HARA X F!READER

↼ chapter ten / chapter twelve ⇀

summary: you aren't feeling too good. miguel helps you get over it, in more ways than one.

explicit (18+) | 6.7k words warnings: enemies to lovers, smut, cunnilingus, face-sitting, fingering, squirting, power imbalance (everything is consensual), miguel is... sweet (?), mild fluff, angst, very little plot, mentions of death/gore notes: inspired by this hysterical ask. twas supposed to be a bit of short fun but i am a chronic over-writer. thus, i present to you – a week late tangent about miguel's magical tongue! enjoy

The night ends with you riding Miguel’s face, panties ripped and cartons of food waiting idly on your desk. If you could shatter the pleasure that seizes your brain with a vice-like grip, you would take a moment to admit one thing.

You don’t know how you got here.

It’s not the fact of it that’s got you fazed; no, you’ve long since come to terms with the new perimeters of your relationship. Really, it’s been the only active component in your life as of late, serving itself in all your food for thought. You’ve contemplated it before going to bed, upon waking up, during your lunches with Hobie – where the spider critiques your mentor so often that you’ve learnt not to mention your less-than-professional relationship out loud.

And, well– For every moment in between, you’re caught up in this exact transgression.

If you’re being perfectly honest with yourself, it’s fruitless to attempt to rationalise it. The day’s happenings couldn’t have hinted towards this at all. In fact, your morning had started miles off from where you are now. Laying on the ground, ambition fried save for one goal:

To take a break.

Your dreams still burn on your eyelids when you blink them open. They’re feverish, ochre and plum and sickly green, a little too blurry to make out the details that would’ve otherwise helped you decipher their meaning. It was something about blood, something about patchouli, and a conclusive explosion that fizzled with bright light.

Though the latter might merely be ideation. You forgot to close your blinds before falling asleep – the only reason you’re awake being the sun bathing your room in white.

A migraine strikes at your temple, rhythmic and reinforced with stainless steel. It’s vengeful. Your entire body is, actually. Sour aches run up your muscles, swelling around your joints, digging into your bones. When you attempt to readjust, your spine screams in protest. So does your stomach, gurgling for either food or relief. It’s hard to tell really; the pain is so profound that blaming a particular area would be dismissing the others.

You do know who to blame, though.

That asshole.

He’s ruthless. An absolute implacable force that grills you almost every hour of the day. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that his concern with your training is due to a growing fondness for you. But you’ve seen enough evidence of his method to prove otherwise – he’s merely approaching it with as much dedication as he prescribes anything else. Like the fate of the multiverse relies on your betterment, like his seeing to it is some sort of commandment by God.

(Perhaps it is.

But not even you take gospel this seriously.)

It’s been a couple weeks and you’re still not used to it. Over the year since gaining your powers, you’ve never exerted yourself this much. You’re so weak, you find, that your strength can be likened to that of a civilian. The constant wear and tear hasn’t pushed that front, either – the first few sessions, you’d come dangerously close to throwing up from the sheer exhaustion of it all. Your gut turned into itself, gags coated with bile as you ushered Miguel away from your perimeter. The only thing that held you back was a lack of energy to actually commit to the issue.

That, and the promise of his fingers buried deep in your cunt.

You’ve begun to understand him, though. The scientist part of you can’t help but pick up on his patterns, storing them in one place for further analysis. Eventually, having enough data allowed you to draw up a trend.

It tends to go something like this:

He compiles an exercise to help you learn a lesson. It’s devised to push you both mentally and physically – a killing of two birds with one stone. To phrase it like that, plain cut and simple, makes it sound almost juvenile, like a look into a kindergarten teacher’s book of discipline. The punishment should fit the crime, or however it goes. But it isn’t easy, not by a long shot. He seems to see what you have trouble harrowing from yourself; those meaty flaws, fattened from neglect, maggot-strewn and pulsing with a verve of their own. They’re pinpointed, slated, and then he gives you the knife all expectantly, like you can kill it by yourself.

The beasts’ name has been resilience lately. According to him, planking for two minutes wasn’t a sufficient enough appeasement to it.

Because the next day, he always expounds upon the lesson from the last. The training is a developed form of the one that nearly just killed you, and he tests how you respond. Your enthusiasm or lack thereof doesn’t matter, it’s your perseverance despite it that he rewards. You can smile every time you fall, if you don’t get up, then he doesn’t grant you an orgasm.

If you do, however–

Then, fuck. It’s so good that you often forget the struggle it took to earn it in the first place.

A strict system. One with little room for loopholes or faults. You can tell he’s thought it through – every exertion is met with an upside, a failsafe tailored to the type of pupil you’re proving to be. It means that he’s done this before; is accustomed to the patience and regimen it takes to guide someone as wayward as you.

You add it to your tally of proof that he’s a father.

(He’s able to come up with detailed plans surrounding your weaknesses.

You, on the other hand, have to resort to contrived assumptions to get a glimpse into who he is.

The imbalance is present, glaring. Enough to irk you but not enough to implode just yet. You stuff it away for later.)

Solid system aside, it certainly doesn’t account for how much of it you can tolerate. You’re paralyzed, hollowed out by the endless workouts. And while, yes, you could go to the cafeteria to fill up with fuel that alleviates the effects, you physically can’t move out from under your sheets – limp as the mattress that cushions you.

You wonder what he would say if he saw you like this. It’s become harder to guess now that you’re unsure of his true feelings towards you. A Spanish taunt, likely; something along the lines of have I worn you out already? And you’d huff but secretly squirm under the prospect of disappointing him, a scolded schoolgirl caught with a lame excuse between index and thumb.

Hell, he’s not even around and you’re still plump with shame. Your room doesn’t feel nearly as comforting with the knowledge of what waits outside. Down the hall, up the staircase. Through the common room and across the lobby. In that little gym, hidden in a corner near the med-bay, where no one frequents when the more advanced training facilities are in another sector entirely. You check the alarm on your desk – 09:00. He’s probably there already, waiting on you with arms crossed.

In your mind's eye, he’s wearing that black compression top he seems to resort to on laundry days. Grey sweatpants too. You don’t know what to call the passing reflection – fantasy is all too mortifying a word. Wish? Absolutely not. You wish for nothing when it comes to him. Except maybe–

Thighs squeezing, you brush the objection away. You could get it easily if you’re able to muster the energy. Take it one step at a time. Change into your athletic gear. Eat a light breakfast. Show up, if not a little late. Miguel would make a passing comment about it but nod at the fact that you came at all. And it would be enough, that little assurement, to motivate you through whatever gruelling exercise he has planned today.

If you let him know, though – how hard it was for you to go – would he add to your reward? So far it’s only been his fingers on you, rubbing you while you run slick onto him. Deliciously thick as they fuck into you, long and perfect at pinpointing that one spot that makes you just burst. Certainly better than your own, but…

His touch is beginning to lose its novelty. Increasingly, you’re left wanting more. You come down from your highs gaping, clenching around the memory of a length that’s only ever been in your mouth. And if he’s able to make you see stars with just his hand–

Then you’d abandon the cosmos just to get him to fuck you.

(A proclamation you’d never say out loud. Even your conscious cringes at just how depraved it sounds.)

So, you try.

Really, you do. With the fear of failing him and the lust that’s taken root in your core, you kick your legs off the edge of your bed. The air is frigid, biting at your heels as they press to tile, which is just as cold itself. You let it diffuse into your feet, getting used to it while bracing yourself for the pain bound to reemerge. Black broaches your vision, blotting its edges. You opt to ignore the blatant warning, sucking in a hurried breath – resilience – before rising to a stand.

Two seconds pass. You go blind. Like a marionette with its strings cut, you tip over and collapse to the floor.

Whether a headrush or your muscles finally giving up on you, you can’t help but attribute the display to none other than your ‘mentor’ himself. Cocky bastard with his stupid fucking philosophies. Resilience my ass. Look where that’s gotten you now; capsized like a turtle with a shell too big for its own good.

Groaning, you flip over to your side. Your elbow had taken the brunt of the impact, yet your head rings with alarm nonetheless. You’ll just… You’ll just stay right here. Yeah.

He’ll understand.

(And, if not, then you’ve dealt with him in poorer moods.)

18:00.

You’re pathetic.

So much more than that, actually. Pathetic is a description reserved for the pitiable. A person has to actually sympathise with you in order for it to be true, and you’re sure that if anyone saw you in this state – God forbid – then they’d convulse in disgust instead.

You cycle through a list of viable synonyms. Miserable. Lame. An absolute tragic case of wasted potential. None quite fit like you want them to. They all feel wrong – mirrors so distorted you can’t make out your reflection in them if you tried.

It’s just… becoming of you.

If there were a word that specifically meant befitting to Wraith, then you’d clutch it close to your chest for how validating it would read. It feels like all the work you’ve put in thus far was for nothing. Despite how it may seem, you didn’t just do it for Miguel. If it had been, then you would’ve given in half a year ago upon realising just how attractive your pursuer was.

(You remember it, clear as a waxy moon on an ink-blot night.

He’d thrown you into dry-wall and you’d called him a coward for not looking you in the eye. It must’ve hit him where it hurt, because his mask drew back and before you knew it, you were phasing in and out to the beat of your fluttering heart.

It was the first time you saw him. Once you managed to escape, your fist suffered through its duty in muffling your moans, cut by biting incisors as you rubbed one out in a hostel bed.)

No. It was for you. To put distance between the inconsiderate menace you were before Earth-15 and the woman you desperately want to be. You’d started to notice the difference too. Mentally, sure – where your self-hatred was tamped to the background, and every action you took was opened with weighty contemplation. But even physically – your eyebags had faded and you looked much cleaner than you have in a long, long time.

Where’s that progress now?

Because you’re crumpled on the spot where you fell almost eleven hours ago, with the addition of a pillow to support your head. You’re much like a wad of chewed gum, spit out by some being greater than this dimension. Gross and regressive and littering this world with your very existence.

It’s a close parallel to how downtrodden you’d felt in that convenience store bathroom, bandaging your forearm where Miguel’s claws had dug deep into the flesh. Your throat had been tight with suppressed sobs, both pain and primal fear replacing the pus that surged from your wound. The wash area was filthy. Dirt-packed grout and grey tap water. Paper towels balled in wet wads. But it felt right for you at the time, like you deserved no better.

Of course, you didn’t. Don’t. You went out and got an innocent woman killed not much later.

You still think about her sometimes. Her blood had been piping hot, almost bubbling from the yawning hole in her throat. The rescue was half-assed – you could’ve incapacitated the robber after knocking him out – but you’d been so filled with false bravado at actually having done something that it never occurred to you. The instinct lacking. Your spider-sense, absent. If you’d ever considered grasping the reins to your powers, you could’ve prevented the bullet from phasing through you and meeting her instead. You’ve always been short-sighted like that; prioritising the now over the what if.

And that’s what you stayed here to remedy. But if the same thing happened tomorrow, what’s stopping you from repeating your mistakes? You’d been too broken this morning to process that.

You should’ve just sucked it up and went.

From your place on the floor, out the window, only the top of Nueva York’s cityscape is visible. The sky has darkened to the colour of a bruised peach – an oxidised sort of orange that reminds you of last night’s dream – and the nightlights of some buildings flicker on cue when the sun dips below the horizon. You can see the ninety-degree highway up to Second Base from here. It’s been your entertainment for today, with its little commuting cars and the train that zips back and forth.

If you focus hard enough, then you can trick yourself into believing that the space station is visible, floating just above the stratosphere – where gravity is weak enough to let it hold its place. But you’re a woman of science and you know that it's impossible, that the silhouette you’re picturing is a figment of your wild reverie and you’re still anchored to earth where dreams are just that. Dreams. Your eyes burn from attempting it, anyway, those damn dust motes cropping up again.

Christ.

Given that life’s slowed, you’re spotting them more often. Back in that empty storelot, right after being bit, you’d fixated on them for a brief instant. They fit in with the setting back then, lazy in a stream of sunlight. Colourful – pink, green, orange, gold – flipping through the shades in a way that made sense. But their appearances have lost that sense of cohesion. Now, they emerge when you least expect them. In shadows. Hovering in corners not too far away. Places where it’s unnatural for them to be.

You reach a hand out. There’s no purpose behind it. Just… an exploratory action. To test the unknown. Your shoulder aches when you do, and so you don’t notice how odd it feels at first. Like electricity, buzzing at your fingertips. The motes start to drift towards your skin, magnetised to something you can’t explain.

When you sit up to investigate it further, there’s a knock at your door.

Hobie?

Couldn’t be. He mentioned he’d be away for a while last you talked.

There are few others who know of your assignment. Reilly, but he hasn’t paid mind to you since introducing your room. Jess Drew, maybe, though that’s far-fetched.

So–

You look down at your dishevelled state. In just a plain shirt and your pair of oldest underwear, you’re hardly dressed for entertainment. Especially when it’s him.

Is he checking up on you?

It’s so stupid that even in a depressive slump you’re able to laugh at yourself. Check up is the only way you can put it without making things worse. If he’s passing by, then it would be in suspicion. You’re no idiot, after all, in spite of your dejection. He wouldn’t let you roam free without having measures in place to ensure you don’t leave. That may just mean looking in from time to time.

Though it’s practically guaranteed that it isn’t out of concern.

(You have to remind yourself; you wish for nothing when it comes to Miguel O’Hara.)

Another knock. It’s hastier this time. Three raps with sharp knuckles. Impatient.

Panic overtakes all motor functions as you scramble to a stand. Yesterday’s joggers are thrown over your desk chair, in need of a wash with all the fluids secreted in them. They’re the closest in your vicinity, though, and will have to do for now. You briefly fuss over how your hair looks, whether your unwashed face is visibly oily – all fixable things that you dismiss while tripping to the doorway. The waistband is barely over your ass before you swing it open, greeting Miguel with a grimace.

Idiot. You shouldn’t have opened it that wide. Now he can see your mess of a r–

“Bad time, I’m guessing.” Is all he says, voice lilting into a question. You can’t help but register it with a tone of condescension; the raised eyebrows certainly don’t convince you otherwise.

All you really want to do is tell him off for the impromptu visit. The chagrin is there, latched onto your throat. But before you can, and against your better judgement, you give him an extensive once-over, taking heed of his state. What’s ironic – a tranquillising point that promptly shuts you up – is that it’s worse than yours.

In the complete opposite way.

Three big rips run along his torso, interfering with the technology of his spider-suit. It glitches between static and a transparent condition, baring the bronzed skin of his chest. There’s blood there too, reiterating the crimson that peeks from beneath his floppy hair, which is sweat-drenched. Tousled. He’s tousled, like he waltzed directly from a fight. A particularly bad one at that.

(And of course he still looks better.)

“One can say the same about you.” You bite.

“Don’t be smart.” He says. It isn't the snap you take it to be, more a mumble with consequence to his fangs. His mouth doesn't sit right when they’re withdrawn. You run your tongue along your gums upon remembering how they’d felt, pierced in your neck. “I couldn’t make our session this morning. An urgent issue came up.”

Immediately, something fresh smooths over you, like a balm to the anxiety that’d been plaguing you all day. He wasn’t even there. You’re tempted to laugh, but your humour dims on its way out. And when all is said and done, you find the disquietude is still there, nestled between your ribs.

You just blink in acknowledgement.

His jaw tenses. “We can reschedule.”

“You don’t have to sound so guilty about it.” The joke contains perhaps more sarcasm than you intend for it. It echoes, spiteful, and you at least have the sense to be ashamed, for you follow it up with a small reassurance. “It’s fine. I never showed.”

“Sick?”

“Something like that.”

(Lie.

Look at you, just embodying ignobility today.)

He nods, scanning your dishevelled clothing and chapped lips. Your only drink of water all day had been from the bathroom tap in an especially lamentable episode. It smacks, as though it were filled with cotton, the inside of your cheeks dry paper.

You wait for him to say something, unease broiling in your core. He does the same, gaze shifting from the scars on your arm to your bedroom and everything in between. It lingers on the external hallway, scanning for passersby. You recognise the indecision. Deliberation. Still – the long stretch of silence that hangs between you is awkward, broadening with every passing second, a gluttonous sort of tension whose favourite meal is the undefined mess that is your relationship to one another.

Finally, Miguel speaks up. “I’ll be back.”

And then he leaves.

He just… fucking–

Walks away, off to whatever takes precedence over your less-than-invigorating conversation. Which, admittedly, could be counted as anything in the world. But seriously, where is the decorum? Showing up unannounced only to leave you waiting? You run through the various reasons he couldn’t stand to be in your presence any longer, and what he expects you to do before his return.

The most plausible is that his injuries needed tending to. If they were that severe though, then why he saw stopping by first a greater priority is beyond you. In any case, he’ll probably return refreshed. But for what? Your response couldn’t have been misinterpreted to mean that you wanted to reschedule the missed session for tonight. You’re still sore, thank you very much, and in a much shoddier mood than you had been previous.

(This is what you wanted though; a second chance.

‘Just suck it up.’)

Steeling yourself, you shut the door and hobble down to the back of your room, stripping on your way. You’ll tidy up after your shower – it's bound to wash at least half of your self-loathing.

You just hope your leggings are clean.

As it turns out, you were the one who misinterpreted things.

Dressed in your athletic gear with damp skin and your sneakers primed to go, the dread had started to ebb away into a begrudging acceptance. Yes, your body still tenses with lactic-mutiny, raging where you’ve exerted it in the past, and your head still sings in migraine tones. But they all came second to the split-second fluster that had risen when he’d knocked on your door. That fear of disappointment returned with a vengeance, your worry for regression packing the final punch.

And, really. What were you supposed to think?

He left without so much as an excuse. It was up to you to decide what he’d see upon coming back. Just based on the nature of your prior meetings, the answer heavily leaned towards your own durability. Ready to face whatever exercise he has to throw your way, supposed sickness aside. You were actually quite proud of yourself for it, directing a heavy-handed pat on the back for the nail you ‘hit on its head.’

Never in your blurry dreams could you have predicted this.

Your face burns hot with puerile embarrassment.

“Um–”

“I figured you haven’t eaten.” Miguel explains, curling the plastic bags up in a gesture akin to surrender. They’re solid white, those thin types that bend under the weight of the cartons packed inside. You’re unable to process it before your stomach does, growling in suppressed hunger.

“No.” You shuffle to the side to allow him in. He takes the invitation, carefully, traipsing within your quarters to place the food on your desk. “I haven’t.”

The air resumes its resting level of edginess, however you’re far too wrapped up in your own head to buckle underneath it this time. It’s cold, you ascertain, your skin puckering in a gradient from foot to toe. His survey follows the same line, regarding your changed appearance in intrigue, cheeks sinking with a downward smile. It looks positively smug.

“Sorry, I thought… You’re not here to dole out another one of your lessons?”

“You’re sick aren’t you.” He isn’t interrogative in the slightest. You can’t bring yourself to lie again, so you stay silent. “I see you got dressed regardless.”

“Well, that’s me. Just a sucker for appearances.” You scoff, shutting the door behind you. The room appears infinitesimal in his presence, collapsing into those broad shoulders. “Tidied the space too and everything.”

Tall, packed with undiluted muscle. No longer in his spider-suit, but clothes more casual. A bandage stretched across his forehead. It’s stark against his skin, white on bronze and you can’t help but follow the way he gleams under the warm lighting. Fresh – he must’ve showered too, further evidence found in the way his hair curls, dips, drops of water rolling down his nape. You dig your teeth into your lip. Any closer and you’re bound to hit a wall of patchouli, that aphrodisiacal scent that triggers you like an animal in heat.

“Is that so?” He prods, unconvinced. It’s dark outside and you feel confined to this box. “You weren’t just anticipating it?”

“Anticipation is a forgiving word. No one would look forward to torment.”

His brows knit together, the creases between them playful, like the very implication is offensive on the same magnitude as a low-life’s taunt.

“But…” There’s nowhere to back into when he takes a step closer, your bed hitting the back of your knees. “You got dressed regardless.” He reinstates, emphasising each word, syllables punctuated to make his point. If you weren’t cornered, snared in the clutches of a cat celebrating its next meal, you’d have been able to see where this is going.

As it stands, you’re blind.

“You know what I think?” He adds upon your reticence. You shake your head. “I think, it’s finally starting to hit you.”

“Hit… Wh–”

“The point. These past few weeks have been tough, I won’t pretend otherwise.” Miguel clarifies. “But it was only the first part of it. Withstanding struggle, that torment you speak so… fondly of.”

“Like you said,” You catch on, recalling the reality check he’d given you that day with the plank. “Y’know. Resilience.”

“Remind me of the other half of it again.”

“There’s… Withstanding struggle,” You repeat stupidly, working overtime to try and fetch his exact words. It’s an almost impossible feat, the gears in your mind turning on empty fuel. The initial lecture wasn’t that long ago, but it’s been intercepted by a million other philosophies. And he’s right there, ducked close to your level, keen eyes patiently waiting for you to continue. His breath fans across your cheek. The pressure worsens. You feel dumb. “And–”

You resort to context, then – grasping for the crux of his little tangent. What did you do to inspire it, anyway?

It hits you so suddenly your neck twinges with phantom whiplash.

“Recovering when you fall.” You complete.

“That’s it.” The whispered praise tickles you, like sand filling an hourglass. Your tummy sinks, heavy with it. It’s warm and dry and feels much like how his bare hand did, supporting your neck under rubble. Behind your back, your own wind together as you shoot him a vampish look.

“Who would’ve thought.”

He shrugs. “Was your faith that lacking?”

“There were a few times, yeah. You should’ve seen me this morning,”

“Oh, I can imagine.”

“Fell right to the floor. Almost died, I’m telling you. I stayed right here,” You tap the ground with your heel. “All day.”

“It was not that bad,” He insists, speaking with a levity you don’t often hear from him. It’s nice when he reciprocates like this. You’ve always reckoned that he took himself seriously one-hundred percent of the time. You find that you get along better when he doesn’t.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.” You pop the P, using the excuse to wet your lips. The guard you keep constantly raised bends to the contours of his face, curved elegantly around those high cheekbones and the jaw he must physically sharpen to get looking so pronounced. He’s studying you – you sense it, teasing your lashes, noting the way your eyes pointedly avoid his. They’re planted firmly to his neck, where corded muscles stretch under skin, so strong you can practically hear them creak.

Your heartbeat skips from between your thighs. When you rub them together, they glide easily, lubricated by the slick pooling into your panties.

“No logical reason you should continue putting up with it, then.”

It could turn out that Miguel’s voice is modulated and you wouldn’t be surprised given how pleasing it is to listen to. Deep, controlled from a low point in his chest where smouldering coal chars it until it’s rugged. You always pay closer attention to the letters through which his accent comes through; short O’s and throaty D’s. His mouth hardly moves when he speaks. You wonder when he chooses to properly utilise it. Whether he does at all.

Your kiss had been entirely one-sided. His rewards are so detached. There’s a lot you haven’t explored yet; with every passing second, the greater the urge is to push and find out.

“Except we can both appreciate why I do,” You breathe, throwing caution to the wind and catching his stare. An irrepressible smile blooms at the spirited expression he gives you. Eyebrows raised in a thick arch, forming an amused look that only bolsters you further.

“For your redemption?” He baits, only to interrupt your response. “Or…” Your nerves spark. “For this–”

And then he cups you over your leggings, pawing where you’re brim with molten arousal. Hips bucking, your jaw hinges to expel a high-pitched keen, pinched from the back of your gullet. You latch onto his wrist, eager to either neg him on or push him away – but with the torrid fuzz that gains control of your systems, you can’t work it out.

“Do you deserve it?” His ask caresses the shell of your ear, a whisper, fingers slowing until you land on an answer.

Distrusting yourself to verbalise it, you give a frantic nod, mortifyingly desperate. It’s as much of a revelation for you as it is for him, manifested with every needy rut you give his hand. Miguel lets you seek the pleasure, pinning harder to provide the pressure you need, before withdrawing just as assuredly.

You could almost sob. Your nose is stuffy and your lips bitten and you so badly wish to be filled with anything to help you forget your miserable day. When he taps your ass, you assign every ounce of remaining intellect to decipher the vague gesture – eventually falling back on your bed in a close measure of what you assume he means. It’s a sterling guess. Your shoes are shucked off in the process and he leans over you, one knee anchored to the surface as he tucks into the waistband of your pants. They slide off with his help, separating from heated flesh like velcro.

It occurs to you that this is the first time he’ll see you. So far, your body is familiar to him in touch alone – hurried, stolen and shoved under your panties in semi-public spaces while you fight to endure the conflicting sensations. There’s mind to currently faux humility – a game you liked to play with your college conquests. Batted eyelashes and babydoll modesty; a secret thrill present in watching them come undone at your relinquished control.

But Miguel is no lover, and you’re far too gone to play nice now.

You scoot back to your pile of pillows when he joins you. It’s unreal seeing him in such a domestic setting. Civilian attire, combed hair. In high nature. If it weren’t for the bandage on his temple and the shadows making allusions to the brawn he keeps at bay, then you could’ve fooled yourself into trusting his normality. That he isn’t larger than life – solely here because he’s like you, a person trying to make well for themselves.

As it is, though, he’s still impenetrable. Fully clothed while you lay bottomless.

(Again, you’re reminded that you don’t know him. The man sacking you of your underwear could have a spouse, for all you’re privy to.

It just adds another layer of distance you should be thankful for.)

Manic with lust, you’re barely enlightened to what’s coming when your mentor captures each leg in a separate grip. Big hands cradle their bends, under your knees where your skin is unconventionally soft. It poses a contrast to the calluses on his palm, worn by years of crime-fighting and swinging on reinforced webs. They’re warm and rough and scratch you, sending a nervous buzz down to your core.

He guides your limbs up. Your ankles sway. Definitely strong; he almost syphons the breath right out through your stomach. If you close your eyes, you can imagine that this is just another exercise, a preliminary stretch.

But you don’t. Folded with your thighs pinned to your chest, you can only fluster with real self-consciousness. Your cunt is exposed to the filtered air, biting the heated centre with its opposite degree. Perhaps more wickedly, however, is the way you’re spread to Miguel’s hawk-like gaze. He inspects the way you glow, humiliated, the sticky confirmation of your desire smeared across your puffy lips. Is he turned off by the sight – your eagerness a violation of the pseudo-professional boundaries marked around your deal?

No, you decide. He’s all too content when he ducks to face it, laying a heavy mouth to your throbbing clit. It’s intoxicating, the cool slice of oxygenated air after months of smoke inhalation. You forget your insecure tangent entirely, tipping your chin back to moan your encouragement.

Fuck, he’s good.

More than good. You scramble for a better description, hands clawing for purchase on your sheets. It’s indescribable in its obscenity – lewd and dirty and slow, mapping every fold and crevice with his tongue. The sweltering muscle, like velvet, swirls across your sensitive bud, taking in its high reactivity, before lapping at the hood above it. You hone in to every miniscule movement, raptured by its dexterity and unwilling to fully let yourself go.

Miguel hums, low, tasting the agony that pours from his skill. His fingertips paint bruises where they dig, holding your thrashing hips still. You find there’s nothing else you can do to bear it, your arms flailing pathetically, toes curling. You pant and it doesn’t help dissuade the indulgence building up within you, crashing against a dam that’s starting to crack. It’s almost as though you’re doing too much to seek it out, afraid he’ll turn to ash at any second and leave you wanting.

“Oh– O’h… Shit, shit!” You whine, pounding your heel on his broad back. He barely notices, peering up at you through dark lashes. “If I had… Don’t stop! Please, p–” His crimson eyes gleam dark and bloody, obscured in shadow. Sobbing, you suck in large gulps of heady air. “If you promised this earlier, I would’ve climbed up fucking buildings to earn it.”

“Mmm-” He ignores your plea, breaking away to bring two digits to his mouth. Your right leg flops uselessly to his side. “Good idea.” One lick and they’re covered in spit. You can’t help but notice the discolouration on his knuckles, deep red and purple, as he uses his index and middle to fan out your lower lips.

And then he’s back to eating you out. This time, though, he’s drinking from your weeping slit. Breaching it, exploring the perimeter that stretches to accommodate his pistoning tongue. Despite pursed lips, your scream still manages to sound through the way it vibrates your lungs. Rattling you, much like he does now, from inside out. His nose is pressed to your mound. You don’t doubt he can smell you, potent sex and clean sweat, contracting every joint until you’re an immovable board.

“Don’t do that,” Miguel groans, scorching the space he creates to reprimand you. Crying, you obey what he says, melting into a puddle of nectar. He strikes a fair point; things feel exponentially better when you aren’t tense, nerve pathways unobstructed in sending pleasure signals to your blank brain. Discerning the shift, he huffs. “Good.”

Stars and heaven above, your consequent wail is unhinged. Your hands fly to his hair, seizing the wavy tresses in a smarting hold. The praise serves as an amplifier to every sense. Hips bucking, free calf curling around his neck. His fingers plunge into you, scissoring your tight walls as he spits onto your pussy, gathering the pearlescent fluid with his thumb and using it as aid. Like you need the extra help.

Because you’re soaked. The dam is broken. Everything gushes out of you in an ugly mess, glossing his palm and the duvet below. He nips your clit, grazing his teeth along the swollen sprout, teasing, then places his mouth back onto you. Brown locks curl to his brow. You brush them back, shoving him harder, closer. Sort of power-drunk at the sight of him succumbing to your command.

It’s short lived. You’re about to cum when he chooses the inopportune moment to speak.

Growls, actually. “Hold on.”

Capturing you to his face, he makes sure you’re steady before relinquishing his fingers from your hole and upending you both.

Suddenly, you’re on top and he’s the one framed by your pillows. Your back bends and you almost crumble on top of him – an old building met with a wrecking ball of celestial proportions. You can’t hold your weight on your haunches. They’re practically useless like this, quivering with suspense. Where guilt would be the appropriate response at such a prospect, you’re bound by awe instead. He’s no doubt suffocated by your squeezed thighs and seated pussy – the force of which aided by gravity – but something tells you that’s what he wants. For the first time, his eyes flutter shut.

A sting – concentrated on the globe of your ass – registers only seconds later where he had slapped you. Go, it demands silently. You force yourself to muster the energy to do so.

You can’t last very long, anyway.

Pelvis waving, you ride his face, back arched away from his hand. It irons over your covered waist, wet and soaking the breathable material of your shirt. The position proves to be a workout in of itself, your core strength tested in the motions. For the first time, you find yourself thanking his training. You wouldn’t have persisted otherwise.

Your orgasm rises again, faster now that you’re properly edged. It floods up from your feet like a high tide, sweeping all the seaweed and shells and stability from your abdomen. Lost at shore, a stranded sailor waking up from a tempests’ shipwreck; dazed, sun-blanched on splintered wood. There’s sand on your skin – it clears that too. You’re renewed in briny water. Freshened, addicted to the feeling of the sea pulling you back into its gentle but firm embrace.

You take back what you said. About his mouth and how he chooses to use it. It’s none of your business so long as he keeps it on you, sucking and drinking the cum he milks for all its worth. It just keeps coming, no start or end in sight. It’s all you can do to withstand your weakened centre constantly clenching and still breathe, tears budding hot and heavy. Your nails scratch his scalp. Miguel gives a minute mmmm.

And in the wake of it, while he lays there and laps you clean, the echoes of your moans still rings from the walls.

Forget what you said. Technically, the night didn’t end there.

Much later, you’re both washed and warm. It took you a while to wipe the slick from your folds. He used your bathroom to cleanse his hands and face.

The same cartons of food now sit open between you, on the desk he’d manoeuvred off the wall to divide its chair from your bed. He’s much too big for the seat, but when you’d offered him the mattress, he brushed you off. You currently sit cross legged, cushions bare – sheets in the wash.

And it’s quiet. The empty type, strangely enough. Devoid of any of your usual sarcasm or awkwardness. Sort of… suspended between both, in the foreign land of amity.

Perhaps that’s what convinces you to ask. The inherent safety of the moment. There’s not much you can say to offend in the post-smut glow. Slurping the tail end of a noodle, you look away from your rapture with the illuminated highway outside to take him in. The train had just passed.

“Are you married?”

Miguel doesn’t reply immediately, chewing a mouthful of seasoned vegetables. Instead, he looks at you with mild amusement. Eventually, his adam's apple bobs in a thick swallow.

“No.” He says.

chapter twelve

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solarmorrigan · 11 months

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So this started out as some scribbly thoughts on FTM Steve and devolved a little bit into smutty Steddie rambling. As happens. So anyway, explicit text below the cut, click through at your own discretion, et cetera

Warnings(?) for some clumsy language and hints of period-typical transphobia; some discussion of Steve and Nancy together, but only for Steddie purposes. This is mostly just silly

“So, wait, you slept with how many girls in high school, and still managed to keep this a secret?” Eddie asks, brows climbing his forehead.

“Not as many as rumor would’ve had you think.” Steve shrugs. “Like maybe four? The rest, I just… didn’t discourage when they exaggerated. Helped my image.”

Eddie can’t help but snort. He’s glad Steve outgrew that image. “Still, four is a lot to keep a lid on. All of them agreed not to tell and then just – didn’t?”

“Actually, most of them never found out. It was only–” Steve pauses, eyeing Eddie cautiously, as if talking about his past female sexual conquests with his current boyfriend is fine, but what he’s going to say next will be a bridge too far. “It was only Nancy who ever knew.”

Ah.

Ah, yes. Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. Steve’s one true love.

Until now, Eddie fiercely reminds himself. He eyes the t-shirt that is very much his that Steve is very much wearing and slides over the jealousy to address his more pressing question.

“Okay, how did you have sex with at least three other people without them finding out you don’t have a–” Eddie stops short, fumbles for a moment, “a, uh, conventional dick?”

Steve snickers. “Nice save. And, uh – I never actually took off my pants. My talents are in other areas, and I always provided enough of a distraction that they didn’t seem to notice when I just… took care of myself.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, who can’t help but give him the laugh he’s looking for. “It didn’t say flattering things about my stamina, but multiple orgasms are a pretty good bribe. I got good reviews.”

“Huh.” Somehow, Eddie can’t help but feel impressed; he doesn’t quite understand why Steve had felt the need to do it at all—still doesn’t really understand Steve’s drive for popularity when he’d been in high school—but he can admit the skill in the subterfuge. “But you told Wheeler?”

He’s not sure why he’s asking. A part of him, he thinks, wants to make sure Steve had been able to tell her on his own terms, rather than having his hand forced.

Steve shifts, shrugs. He doesn’t look sad, but he’s maybe a little melancholy.

“Nance wasn’t… temporary, for me. She wasn’t a fling, and I didn’t want to hide from her. And it’s the same with you.” Steve’s gaze falls heavy on Eddie. “You are the… third? person I’ve ever told. I want you to know just– all of me.”

Eddie reaches out, grabbing for Steve’s hand; he’s pretty sure he’d be physically incapable of stopping himself from somehow touching Steve after an admission like that.

A thought is beginning to form, however, leading back to what had started this conversation in the first place. Eddie would bet anything that if Wheeler was the first person Steve told, then Buckley was the second.

And that meant only one person Steve had slept with had ever known all of him – but just how much of all of him had Wheeler been interested in?

“How’d she take it? Wheeler, I mean,” Eddie asks, as casually as possible while his thumb is still stroking Steve’s knuckles.

“Uh… pretty good, actually. She was kinda surprised, and she wanted a little bit of time to come around to the idea, but I think she was mostly just bothered that she didn’t figure it out before I told her.” Steve smiles, distantly fond. “But after that, she was cool. We didn’t talk about it much, but I knew that I could talk to her if I wanted to. I’d never had that before. It was… nice.”

It does sound nice. It had probably been the first time anyone had ever been close to accepting every part of who Steve is, and Eddie feels almost bad about turning the memory to sex.

Almost, but not quite.

“So… she was cool with…” Eddie’s eyes flash down below the belt, obvious and significant, “getting involved?”

A sly grin spreads over Steve’s face as he catches Eddie’s eyes. “Are you trying to ask what Nancy and I did in bed?”

Eddie throws his hands up in defense, forgetting for a moment that he’s holding one of Steve’s hands and pulling it up with him. “I’m just trying to figure out what I’m working with here,” he insists, smiling a little too hard to be innocent. “Now, you insinuated you have talents in the oral and digital departments—which I am very interested in, by the way—but what I want to know is what’s been done for you.”

Steve eyes Eddie like he’s considering whether or not to answer, but the way he’s licking his lips says he’s already decided, even if he doesn’t quite realize that himself.

“She… definitely didn’t mind being involved,” he says finally; there’s a slight stain of pink gathering at the tops of his cheeks that Eddie sort of wants to bite. “She would finger me. Sometimes she’d go down on me, but I think we both enjoyed it more the other way around. I think she liked seeing me get myself off while I did it, and I– definitely liked that, too.”

Eddie makes the mistake of imagining it: Steve on his knees, fingers buried in his cunt, wet and dripping, his hips jerking down onto his own hand, maybe kneeling between Eddie’s legs while he does it, maybe looking up through his lashes while he sucks Eddie’s cock.

A little noise escapes Eddie.

“How about… toys?” he manages after a moment. He’s leaning closer now, raptly watching the way the flush on Steve’s face darkens. “You ever try those?”

“I have a… a couple,” Steve says, voice gone low and rough, his eyes fastened now to Eddie’s mouth. “We didn’t use them together, though, they’re just mine.”

Oh, they’re going to revisit that. They are absolutely going to revisit that, but right now Eddie is on a mission. He won’t let himself be distracted.

He slides closer, practically on top of Steve now, one hand on his hip and the other spread warmly over his ribs.

“Never thought about a strap?” he asks.

Steve shrugs, not nearly as nonchalant as he’s pretending. “Thought about it, never quite got there.”

“Which way were you thinking? Would you have worn it? Or…” Eddie is going out on a limb here; just because Steve has a pussy doesn’t mean he likes the idea of penetration, but Eddie has a hunch. “Or would it have been the other way around?”

A sharp breath escapes Steve’s chest. “Do you want that?” he asks, soft, almost hopeful.

Eddie strokes a thumb across his ribs. “Want what?”

“To fuck me.”

This time it’s Eddie who goes breathless. “Is that even a fucking question?” he demands, and then, in case he wasn’t clear, adds, “I would want very much to do that, yeah. If you want me to.”

“I wasn’t sure if you would,” Steve says. “I mean, I know you’re strictly into guys, and I don’t exactly have… a conventional dick.”

“You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?” Eddie asks, eyeing Steve’s smirk.

“We’ll see,” Steve says, which likely means no.

“Fine. But Steve,” Eddie reaches up, cupping Steve’s face in his hands, “I am one hundred fucking percent into you. You are a guy. You are an incredibly hot guy whose pants I have been wanting to get into forever, no matter what you’ve got in there.”

Steve smiles, and Eddie caresses the corners of it with his thumbs.

“Well, you do seem to prefer the weirder shit, anyway,” Steve murmurs.

“Not weird. Different,” Eddie says, and Steve makes a face at him but readily allows him the kiss he presses in for after that.

“So have you…” Steve starts, once they’ve broken apart, “ever been with a guy with my, uh– sort of equipment?”

Eddie would make fun of how awkwardly the words had tumbled out if he hadn’t suddenly been feeling a bit awkward himself.

“Not, uh, exactly.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him and Eddie amends snappishly, “okay, fine, not at all, no.”

“But you’re open to it?” Steve checks, as if the way Eddie has pressed against him like a needy cat has left any room for doubt.

“More than open,” Eddie says. “I might just, y’know– need some direction? To start with?”

“Directions, huh?” Steve smirks. “I can work with that.”

Eddie has no doubt that he can – and that Eddie will enjoy every second of it.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans steve harrington #stranger things #solar wrote #let me know if there's something I need to tag this with that I missed #eddiesteve

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njdevilsdarling · 7 months

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the ‘costume thing’ | jack hughes x reader

*pairing: jack hughes x gn!reader

*summary: a simple misunderstanding between you and jack turns into a full-blown argument

*word count: 896

*tags: angst, miscommunication, happy ending

*a/n: goodness gracious, this was supposed to be fluff but it grew into this angsty monster. i hope you enjoy !

happy halloween !!

you’ve been trying to convince jack since september to wear matching costumes this year. jack didn’t agree to do it last halloween so maybe this time, it’d be different, but nope. he still shot down every suggestion. it’s starting to get on your nerves. you’d never force him to do it but it’s hard not to feel jealous seeing all of your friends dressing up with their partners.

and you thought you’d had some pretty good ideas, too. your best friend straight up cackled over facetime when you told them your favorite (the angel and devil thing is so overdone but jack has always looked good in white).

now, it’s two weeks before the 31st and he still hasn’t said anything. he doesn’t even pay attention anymore and you suspect that he isn’t listening whenever you bring it up. it fucking sucks.

at first, it was just annoying- something that was just aggravating enough to get under your skin- but now, it’s starting to hurt.

it’s beyond just a costume. it’s about him ignoring you and not even taking your opinion into consideration.

fine. if he wants to play that way, so can you.

“c’mon, just talk to me.”

you cross your arms and stare at him, shaking your head. oh, now he wants to talk, got it.

“did i like, forget to do something or make you upset?” jack says, sounding genuinely concerned. it’s nice to know he cares but you’ve been paying attention to how long it would take for him to approach you. three days is shitty.

you stand there in silence while he fidgets awkwardly, clearly frustrated by your lack of a response.

“can you please say something?”

you sigh, rolling your eyes. the low simmer of irritation and hurt that’s been under your skin finally boils over and you can’t stop yourself from lashing out at him. “it doesn’t feel very good to be ignored, does it?”

immediate regret sets in as you watch the look in his eyes shift rapidly from sadness to sharply annoyed. “is this still about that costume thing?”

“are you serious?” you scoff, full on glaring at him, “you think that’s why i’m upset?”

“yeah, i guess. i don’t know.”

“i’m upset because you’re not listening to me. every time i try to talk to you, you just brush me off, and that’s if you even care enough to respond,” you snap at him. you feel your eyes begin to burn and it only serves to make you more upset. you’d never considered yourself someone who tries to hide your emotions but fuck, crying over this in front of him is embarrassing. “it’s like you don’t even want to hear what i have to say. and i feel ignored.”

it’s quiet but the silence between the two of you is thunderous. jack opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find what to say. you sniffle, using the back of your hand to dry your eyes. it isn’t fair for you to spill everything you’ve been feeling lately out to him and to him to stay still and speechless. it feels like hours before he finally says anything.

“i’m sorry,” jack mumbles, and it’s so genuine that it’s almost like you have to look up at him. “i should have listened to you.”

you laugh wetly, wrapping your arms around your body. “yeah, you should have. you never even told me why you didn’t want to like, dress up with me.”

“i don’t know why.” he shrugs. at least he looks bashful. “that’s a shitty answer, isn’t it?”

he’s right. it’s a horrible answer but he says it in such a way that makes you giggle, hiding it behind your hand. hearing you laugh causes him to smile.

“i didn’t know you felt like that. i wish i would’ve, though.” jack bites his lip, his hands in his pockets. it sucks, seeing him so dejected, but part of you is glad that he’s taking this so seriously. it’s such a contrast from before; he’s actually, really, listening to you now and it’s damn satisfying. “i don’t like seeing you upset.”

you take a deep breath, nodding slowly. he’s trying. one conversation isn’t going to make everything okay but it’s a start.

“just… i need you to talk to me. fighting like this is stupid. i don’t wanna spend most of our time together arguing,” you say quietly, the last of your tears drying on your face.

jack pulls you into a crushing hug and for a moment, you stand still, before hugging him back just as tightly.

“me too.”

he’s got such a way with words.

jack flicks his headband with a frown and you watch the little halo attached to it wobble.

“quit messing with it,” you hiss, elbowing his arm when he goes to hit it again, “you’re going to break it.”

he pouts, rolling his shoulders back. maybe the wings were a little too much, but he just looks so cute in them. “and why am i the angel again?”

“because,” you say simply, flashing him a grin, “you’re always a devil. it’s my turn now.”

you quickly pull your phone out, using the camera to check if your horns are still on straight. in the top left corner, jack readjusts the wings you ‘forced’ him to wear.

you can’t fucking wait for tonight.

#celeste.txt #jack hughes #nhl x reader #jack hughes x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils #nhl imagine

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satansapostle6 · 5 months

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The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

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Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Smut. Switch dynamic. Praise. Rough sex. Oral(both receiving). Slight choking. Overstimulation. Spitting. Blood. Minors DNI.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: Coney Island Baby

After their return from Hades, Luke and Katherine slept for an entire two days. They were exhausted beyond understanding. It had taken Luke a while to readjust to mortal luxuries, like time and space.

Luke eventually woke one morning to sunlight pouring in through the window, a welcome improvement from their time in the Underworld. Katherine slept beside him in their shared bed, and all was well at the moment. He knew to relish in the present calmness, as it naturally wouldn’t last.

He was happy to wake up without anywhere they had to go, or a nightmare to recover from. Luke was pretty sure he’d had a nightmare some time in the first few hours of sleeping, but eventually, so much time had passed he’d since forgotten them. He laid in the hotel bed with his feet curled into his body as Katherine faced him, mirroring his body language.

“You okay?” she asked softly, a smile on her face for what felt like the first time in forever.

He nodded, genuinely able to mirror that smile. “Yeah. I’m okay. I feel a lot better.”

“Me too,” Katherine nodded. “I feel like the Underworld really fucked us up.”

“Yeah… I guess we have more to be haunted by than most people.”

“We should do something fun,” she sighed, “And not be miserable for once.”

“I think… that’s a really good idea,” Luke decided, his voice still deep from exhaustion. “I’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“I wanna go to Coney Island,” she said slowly. “I’ve never been. I wanna know what Lou Reed was talking about.”

“Okay,” Luke agreed, not needing any further reasoning. “Coney Island it is.”

It felt great to the both of them waking up at 2 PM. As Luke finished his shower, towel still wrapped around his waist, he heard Katherine speaking, but couldn’t hear the words. Opening the bathroom door, he emerged with wet hair.

“What’s that?”

Standing coquettishly against the wall, in only an oversized shirt that he’d lent to her, she didn’t bother to hide the grin on her face as she spoke.

“What should I wear?” she asked.

This was a question Luke never expected from Katherine. He’d always felt that she was a very confident sort of person, the kind of person who just always woke up knowing exactly what they wanted to wear. If anything, he would’ve thought she’d tell him what to wear.

“…What do you want to wear?” he asked, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“I don’t know. Something I wouldn’t usually wear,” she admitted. “Something you can’t find somewhere that sells fishing bait.”

“What do you like?” Luke asked, genuinely curious what she actually liked that wasn’t leather jackets or jeans.

“I don’t know,” Katherine admitted. “…Should I wear a skirt?”

“If you want to, yeah,” he nodded, kind of flustered. “That’d look nice.”

“Alright,” she shrugged, still looking at him even though the conversation had come to a conclusion.

Luke watched as her eyes slowly trailed downward, chuckling as he put his hands on his hips.

“What you looking at?” he asked.

“Your face,” she smiled innocently, crossing her arms as she met his gaze.

“That’s not my face.”

“Oops,” she shrugged, wandering off as he just shook his head.

Luke truthfully wasn’t really sure what was going on with Katherine, but he didn’t really question it. They were both having fun. He figured eventually, he’d figure out if she would be a friend, girlfriend, or something in between.

He decided to put on his nice brown leather jacket and a dash of cologne, putting in the effort that he felt someone like Katherine deserved.

“You ready?” he called, car keys in hand.

“Yeah,” she called, slowly coming out of the bathroom after putting on her makeup.

Luke had almost forgotten she was one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. She had the softest skin, the prettiest lips, and long, shiny hair. She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, and what he could only describe as one of the shortest denim skirts he had ever seen, along with a pair of heeled leather boots.

He could smell her perfume, and it made him feel lightheaded with ecstasy.

“How do I look?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Like I’m gonna have to win you every stuffed animal they’ve got,” he said proudly.

He playfully threw his arm around her as they climbed into the Pontiac and headed for Coney Island.

“I’m gonna tell people you’re my boyfriend so they get scared you’re gonna beat the shit outta them,” Katherine said as she put on her lip gloss on the car.

“I’m gonna tell people you’re my girlfriend so they think I’m really cool,” Luke smiled.

For once, the voices in his mind were quiet. There was no screaming, and no pain or guilt. All he thought about was how much he really, really liked Katherine as they sang along to Smashing Pumpkins in the car. Wandering around Coney Island and going on the roller coasters with her was enough to make him forget about being anything more than a person.

For the first time in his life, Luke didn’t have to do anything. He wasn’t too busy saving the world to realize that his world might just be someone else.

As he watched Katherine genuinely laughing and smiling, he felt he didn’t deserve the chance to see it. It was so unusual to him, seeing her enjoying herself. It definitely felt strange that it was being with him that made her enjoy herself. But he loved every minute of it, whether it was exploring with her, or sitting next to her on rides, or standing behind her in lines so that she could live in peace.

“Oh, look. A basketball game,” Katherine pointed out.

“You wanna play?” he asked her.

“No, I wanna watch you play,” she grinned.

“Okay,” he sighed jokingly, “Which one do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Luke examined the wall of various sizes of stuffed animals, trying to decide which one he liked the best. Eventually, he settled on a tiger, because in a strange way, Katherine reminded him of one. It didn’t take long for him to make enough baskets to win one. He’d gotten just about every single one, which Katherine admittedly found attractive in him as she picked at the pink cotton candy he’d decided to get for them.

Luke turned around with a goofy grin as he showed off the stuffed tiger he’d won for her. Laughing happily, Katherine excitedly jumped into his arms as he caught her instinctively, stunned and touched by the gesture. Luke gladly spun her around in a circle as he allowed her to wrap her legs around him, the two of them fitting in with the families around them surprisingly well.

Katherine pulled away as Luke held her in his arms, throwing her own arms around his neck as she went in for a big, romantic kiss in the middle of the boardwalk. In that moment, the one thought swimming around in Luke’s head was that he really had been to hell and back with this girl.

Neither of them were in any rush to pull away. The kiss ended very slowly as they separated, only to see one another’s smiles.

“I’d kill for you,” Katherine whispered, giggling as they seemed entirely wholesome to the people around them.

“I’d die for you,” Luke reminded her, setting her back down on the ground. “And. You deserve all the tigers in the world.”

She eagerly accepted the gift, taking the animal as she made it face him, playfully snapping her teeth in a joking bite as he admired her.

“Thank you. For today,” he told her.

“Why are you thanking me?” she asked.

“Because, you let me see you smile,” Luke stated simply.

“I’ll let you see it even more if we can ride the roller coaster again,” she incentivized.

“Again? I’m gonna throw up,” he groaned.

They had spent almost all of their waking hours at Coney Island before they decided to go. Luke certainly didn’t mind driving as he watched Katherine blissfully do nothing for once.

“So, what do you wanna do?” he asked her readily. “Today’s about you.”

“Wanna keep the fun going?” she asked, a mischievous grin on her face.

Luke raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Why? What’ve you got in mind?”

“Let’s find a dive bar,” she suggested, an array of ID’s in hand. “I’ll kick your ass at pool.”

“You’re on,” he accepted.

Playing pool with Katherine while they each had a beer at a dive bar would’ve been fun, if it weren’t for the men in the room. Luke wasn’t sure if it was how much he cared about Katherine, or how he felt he owed her for completing Ares’s ‘quest’, or just common decency, but he wanted to gouge out every wandering eye in the room.

It was all he could think about as they played and drank. He knew it was ridiculous, because Katherine could easily kill everyone in the room probably better and faster than he could, but he still wanted to ‘defend her honor’, or something. Perhaps he just wanted to murder anyone who looked at her the wrong way.

He knew she could sense it. She knew why he stood right behind her every time she leaned over the pool table to take her shot. But, what he didn’t know, was that she took pleasure in the way he would lightly brush up against her. The tension definitely made several hours go by pretty quickly.

“Hey, Katherine?” he said, wanting to be serious for a moment.

“Hmm?” she looked up.

“I, uh… I know we moved past it, but… I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you that night. With Ares,” Luke reminded her. “I should’ve told you how grateful I was to you, for what you did.”

“You don’t have to,” she promised him, knowing it was bound to come up sooner or later. “I know.”

“Okay,” he nodded, feeling less guilty.

“Alright,” she smiled, taking his hand in hers as she squeezed it for reassurance.

“For the record,” Luke purred, leaning down and whispering softly in her ear. “I wish I could’ve killed them myself.”

She looked up at him in surprise, feeling as if Tartarus had changed him.

“You deserve that much,” he told her, lightly brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she remarked.

“You want another drink?” he asked, cautiously glancing behind her at the man leering as he sat at the bar.

“Why don’t we go back?” she suggested.

“Sure. You go out to the car, I’ll just be a second,” Luke told her.

Katherine took the car keys from him and disappeared as Luke headed to the bar, crossing his arms as he approached the man who had been hungrily eyeing her for the past hour.

“Hey,” he said, his tone rather confrontational.

“Hey,” the man grinned in response, not perceiving a single reason as to why Luke could be angry with him. “Quite the hottie you got there. What an ass.”

Luke made a face, at both the comment and its unfortunate phrasing, watching as the man’s friend seemed to also think it was somehow cool. Not appreciating the lack of common decency, Luke heard a voice in the back of his head that just said ‘fuck it’. He snapped and pulled a folding knife from his pocket, holding it inches from the man’s face as he slammed it onto the bar.

Everyone around him stopped, not quite sure how they wanted to react to the situation yet. Luke calmly held the knife to the man’s face as both he and his friend panicked.

“Ah! What the fuck?!” the man hissed, his face smashed into the table.

“Yo, we don’t want any trouble!” his friend blurted out drunkenly.

“Talk about my girlfriend like that, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out,” Luke threatened, waiting for him cry.

Not having anything else to add, the man nodded quickly, begging Luke not to hurt him as he roughly shoved him, leaving the bar as everyone, including the bartender, just watched, fully aware that calling the police to that particular establishment would just be bad for business.

Luke eventually joined Katherine in the car, climbing into the driver’s seat as she looked at him calmly.

“You okay?” she asked coolly.

“More than,” he assured her, feeling as if he’d done his part. “Also, we can’t come back here.”

“Okay,” Katherine shrugged, fully aware of what must’ve happened.

Luke started the car angrily, starting to wish he’d followed through on his promise. She could definitely tell the mood he was in.

“I bet it was really hot,” she said finally, “Watching you make that guy squirm.”

Luke stopped, turning to look at her as he knew exactly what she wanted.

“That’s nothing. You should see me make you squirm.”

That was what did it. Never before had Luke ever seen two eighteen year-olds more determined to do anything. It was practically a race back to the hotel. Luke had to fight every urge to carry Katherine through the hotel lobby, elevator, and hallway. As soon as the door closed behind them and Luke’s jacket was thrown off, it was a free-for-all.

Katherine jumped into his arms, kissing him passionately as she felt his strong arms wrapped around her. He sighed heavily into the kiss, high on her scent as he set her back down on the ground.

“Are you sure?” Luke asked her, searching within her eyes.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” she promised him.

That was all he needed to know. They all but slammed into one another in a messy kiss, his tongue driving her insane. She helped him pull his shirt over his head, gasping lightly as she felt his cold hands underneath her skirt, kneading her skin, hard.

“I want your thong in between my teeth,” Luke said suddenly.

Katherine sighed. “I love ADHD sex.”

Her hands slowly ran all the way down his bare chest as he kissed her, still playfully groping at her ass.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” she teased.

“Neither do you,” he promised her.

He slid her skirt down her legs in one swift move, watching, aroused, as she got down on her knees to get his pants off. She patiently pulled down his briefs, her response to which could only be described as a greedy gasp.

“I don’t fucking deserve you,” he gasped, his hand slowly combing through her hair.

Grinning up at him, Katherine’s eyes darkened as she only opened her mouth, tongue just barely sticking out as she silently told him what to do.

“Oh fuck, I could die right now,” he groaned.

He slowly inserted himself into her mouth, gasping at the sensation. His pace gradually picked up as he held onto the back of her head, thrusting as fast as she wanted him to. She looked up at him coolly, eyes calm and serene as he fucked her face, thrusting so hard he was surprised she didn’t choke or cry at all. She didn’t even seem fazed; she was enjoying it wholeheartedly. Luke groaned, enjoying every second of it.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good…”

He hardly even felt the need to contain his excitement. But eventually, he couldn’t wait anymore. Pulling out of her mouth, Luke grabbed her by her face, pressing a hard, wet kiss to her lips as he forcefully pried her mouth open and spit in it roughly, gulping as she looked him in the eyes as she swallowed. He could’ve fallen in love right then and there.

“You’re so fucking nasty, I love it,” he said in a low drawl.

Katherine loved that he didn’t care if kissing her after she’d had his dick in her mouth was disgusting. She mounted him eagerly, chuckling as he impatiently started grinding against her as she peeled off her undergarments.

Before she could, Luke aggressively flipped her over, grinning in an animalistic fashion as he pinned her down, nipping at her neck as he made his way down her body.

“Fuck,” she gasped.

She pulled, hard, on his hair as his veiny hands pawed at her breasts, not sparing her the pain as he took each of her nipples between his teeth, encouraged by her pulling his hair. He whined hungrily as he moved downward, positioning himself between her legs as he dug his fingers into the soft skin on her thighs.

Luke hungrily bit down on her hip bone as she laughed maniacally. He bit down on her thong, slowly pulling it down with his teeth before taking it off.

“You’re a fucking goddess,” he moaned, burying his face in between her legs with greed as he just breathed her in for a moment. “I’d do anything for you. Fuck me, you’re so wet.”

Katherine sighed as he suddenly latched his mouth onto her clit, roughly massaging her hips as he strategically overstimulated her.

“Fuck!” she hissed, giving his hair a harsh tug as he moaned into her, tongue still lapping at her insides. “I’m gonna rip you apart!” she vowed in anger.

He pinned her down to the bed by her his, grunting crudely as he ate her out. He wouldn’t let anything interrupt him.

“Wrap your legs all the way around. Fuck my face. Let me make you come on my face,” he ordered impatiently, sighing into her as she sucked him into her.

He felt as if she were some sort of violent ocean that he couldn’t help but get sucked into. He flicked his tongue faster and faster, groaning as he felt her thighs shaking around him. His head was completely trapped, not that he even cared. He stayed out, attacking her with his tongue until he felt her finish. Even as she got even wetter, he didn’t stop, reveling in his accomplishments as she pulled on his hair.

He looked up at her, eyes wide and locked on her as she glared at him. When he was finished, he didn’t waste a second. Flipping her over and manhandling her like a rag doll, he made it so that they were both sitting up on the bed, as he slowly buried himself in her, as she still came, losing his mind.

He held her close to him by softly holding onto her throat, his big hand wrapped around her neck for balance. This was essentially his love language.

“Fuck, Luke! Holy shit!” she gasped, feeling how long it took for him to completely bottom out. “Luke…!”

“That’s it,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he lost himself in her, “Let everyone know my name… Please, Katherine, please,” he begged her.

She gasped as he picked up the pace, his cold hand on her neck somehow making her chest feel even hotter. He slammed into her harder and harder, making her groan as she impatiently pulled away from him, lying down as she pulled him down on top of her, kissing him hard.

“I wanna see the stupid fucking look on your face while you fuck me,” she hissed.

“Katherine!” he cried out, almost collapsing on top of her as he lovingly kissed all over her neck. “Fuck. You’re everything.”

“I’m gonna fucking destroy you,” she cooed mockingly as she shoved his face into her neck, her hands resting on his back.

“Go ahead,” he pleaded, “Make me yours. Fucking destroy me, just use me…!”

He moaned loudly as he penetrated, trying to control himself as felt her fingernails digging into his back. He nearly screamed like some sort of horror movie character as she clawed her fingers down his back so hard she started to draw blood.

Luke huffed excitedly as he thrusted in and out of her, completely burying his face in her chest.

“Shit!” he gasped. “Oh…”

He cried out, overstimulated as she scratched up and down his back. He knew there was blood dripping, but hardly even thought about it. He didn’t want to finish yet, but he also knew that he was enjoying being with her too much to really do anything about it.

“It’s okay baby,” she promised him, one hand playing with his hair. “Just come. Come for me,” she whispered.

“Tear me apart!” he hissed. “Fucking destroy me!”

He felt himself fuck like he never fucked before. He thrusted in and out of her so hard, she saw splotches of black as she dug her nails into his muscular back. She sighed as he kissed the side of her neck, refusing to stop worshipping her with affectionate little kisses. Just as he felt her getting so wet he knew she must’ve came again, he moaned softly as he braced himself.

“Luke,” she whispered, mouth agape as he kept going.

“Fuck, that’s so unfair, don’t say my name like that,” he whined.

Reaching a shared climax unlike anything either of them had ever felt before, he pulled out, coming all over her bare stomach with her nails still digging into his back. Panting hard, he collapsed on top of her, continuing his worshiping as he kissed all over her neck.

“Katherine, you’re so beautiful,” he gushed. “You’re a fucking goddess. I don’t deserve you. I love the way you hurt me,” he moaned, falling on top of her.

She appreciated the way he put his full weight on her, sighing in exhaustion as she worked her fingers through his hair. There was come and blood kind of everywhere, but to both of them, it seemed to feel right. That’s what they were together, just come and blood.

“I think I’m in paradise when I’m with you,” she murmured.

“I’d come in my pants if you told me you hated me,” Luke confessed, flipping over beside her to give her some room to breathe.

Sitting up, Katherine momentarily excused the come on her lower stomach as she looked at the old digital alarm clock on the bedside table.

“It’s 7:23,” she told him, her voice still breathy as she realized it was already light out.

“What time did we get in?” Luke asked in confusions staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know, 11:48?” she approximated.

“Shit,” he breathed, thinking hard. “Did we just fuck for seven hours?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “I think so.”

Luke had forgotten that he was a demigod.

Chapter Ten

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjo #pjo hoo toa #jake abel #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader smut #pjo luke #rick riordan #riordan universe #riordanverse #adam milligan

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h-harleybaby · 7 months

Note

Ignore this if you’ve done it but matching costumes with the boys… what do YOU think they’d wear as couple costumes with reader

~🍋

STOOOOP THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE AHHHH

I doing the main 4 + Butters because you didn’t specify them :)

Cartman

• Would absolutely suggest doing something vaguely racist, but dw y’all don’t… even if you have to physically shove Cartman into the bathroom to change. He’s probably pissed about it the whole night tbh

• Probably makes you go as a KFC chicken bucket while he’s the Colonel Sanders because he genuinely will not shut the fuck up until you agree to it. It was so stupidly embarrassing

• He would most definitely force you to go to a party so he could show everyone y’alls costumes before dragging you out to go do other things. He really just wanted to brag and embarrass you

• Cartman will absolutely make you go trick or treating with him despite y’alls ages, and y’all stay out sooooo late that people aren’t even out anymore. He refuses to end the night until he hits up everyone’s house and demands all the candy they have

• At the end of the night you guys stop by the dollar and grocery stores to buy all the cheap Halloween candy that’s on sale. Don’t worry you’ll get your cut on the candy too, it’s just a bit… smaller than his cut

Stan

• Stan doesn’t really care enough about Halloween to plan to dress up or literally anything, but if you insist he’ll probably throw something together quickly

• You guys go as Sally and Jack but his part of it is really half assed, he still looks good tho!! It’s just, a lot people couldn’t tell who he was as at first. He probably got so drunk he couldn’t even remember

• Speaking of getting drunk, he throws a costume party because you insisted on doing something for Halloween. You asked, he delivers! Everyone’s there, even people from straight up other neighboring towns. People hear alcohol and and will do whatever to get it

• An almost concerning rowdy party and it wasn’t even from the party goers! It was from Randy swinging on the Chandelier and supplying all the alcohol. Overall a really memorable night… well to most of the people who went

• Like father like son, neither Stan or Randy could remember anything from last night but regardless, they had an unspoken agreement. Never tell Sharon and never speak of it ever again, the night never happened. Well, the pictures you took definitely say otherwise

Kyle

• Sheila insists on buying y’all’s costumes and she gets y’all some peanut butter and jelly costume. Kyle absolutely hates it but he would never tell his mother, thank god he has a job so he could buy something else and just change when you guys leave

• Y’all actually end up going as Morticia and Gomez Addams even though Kyle in general looks a little too colorful to be Gomez cough cough GINGER cough cough but regardless, he tries his best to slick his hair back and hunch over more so he could be shorter than you. It doesn’t work but it’s the thought that counts right?

• Half way through the night hall switched costumes because you didn’t wanna wear heels too long and he wouldn’t have to because of how tall he is. Shelley let him use her hair straightener and you’re pretty sure you burnt off some of his hair but it’s tooooootally fine, absolutely fine (he doesn’t know)

• Kyle was honestly kind of miserable the whole night, he didn’t really WANT to be there but you begged him to do something with you and Halloween and Stan would’ve dragged him to the party regardless if you asked him to go or not

• Though I suppose you asking really did help, he might’ve just bailed when he heard there was alcohol. Despite everything… he makes a really good Morticia but that was mainly because he was tall and would do the tango with you if you asked

Kenny

• KEN AND BARBIE YOU SAY? I THINK SO!!!!!!! It’s hard to find something in his closet but he ends up trying to spray paint his parka bright pink and writing “I am Kenough” in black sharpie. Oh that poor, poor parka

• You had to physically force him not to try throwing together some haphazard dick costume that he wanted to use soooo bad. He tried to hard to convince you that you guys should go as a dick and sperm

• Thank god you guys didn’t, y’all ended up taking Karen trick or treating for a couple hours and she went dressed as a lil skeleton!!! It was the cutest thing ever, kinda stuff to make your heart melt

• After Karen got tuckered out y’all went to the party, might I add just in time to watch Randy scream and hang from the chandelier in only underwear. Honestly it was a lot funnier than it should’ve been, the man was stuck up there the rest of the night with you both passing up bottles of liquor to him

• Very memorable night for everyone involved, and somehow everyone knew what you guys were dressed as!! I suppose the bright pink and “I’m Kenough” really helped

Butters

• Would also suggest something racist but he doesn’t really know it, at least you give him better ideas so y’all don’t end up coming off weird

• Y’all would totally end up going as Joker and Harley Quinn, it’s completely overdone and cringe but y’all still go as them. Green hair and shirtless and EVERYTHING! His parents don’t like it at all and he ended up getting grounded later

• God you guys are sooooo cringe together, like y’all quote Harley Quinn and Joker stuff the whole night if y’all go to a Halloween/costume party. Multiple people will gag and throw up in their mouths. Multiple

• He’s the type to go to the party with you and almost have a heart attack because of the music, he would be paranoid that his parents would ground him for hearing such music. Somehow they did and they weren’t even there to hear it 😭

• You suggested going trick or treating but Butters was convinced he’s too old for it and his parents would def ground him for being out too late with someone as pretty as you. After a lot of convincing you got him to hit up a couple houses with you before you guys went home, the old people were very confused

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cultofdixon · 9 months

Text

At least there’s no bears

Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns • Usually Daryl can see where the traps lay…but then you got caught • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Blood Loss / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

Daryl slowly sat up in his bed knowing he has the hunt today and that his partner will be joining him. Which meant he had to get ready and then drag their ass out of bed so they could get ready.

Once they both were ready, Y/N stretched their back out waiting for the archer who was currently informing the early bird Rick on their whereabouts for the morning.

“Hey, eat” Daryl startles them out of their thoughts as they tiredly take the protein bar handed to them and started to dig in while they walk to the gates.

It was a cold and nice morning for the two to go on foot for the entirety of the hunt. Even if Y/N does miss his bike to at least go a bit further out.

“You still waking up?”

“Meh.” They shrug adjusting the rifle on their back as they held onto the strap while looking around. “Why do we have to hunt early? Like. It’s what 5AM?”

“Have a watch to confirm that?” Daryl laughs a bit only to be hit with a pebble in the back of the head. As he quickly whips back, Y/N pretended like nothing happened only for him to playfully glare. “I’d be careful of any left behind traps. Don’t think there’s anything as serious as a bear trap but better to be aware”

“Why do people hunt bears? Some of them may be stupid, then others just want to steal your picnic baskets”

Daryl stopped once more only for Y/N to run right into him from not paying attention. He gave them a confused look.

“For someone who had a brother with only a few working brain cells. He didn’t watch cartoons? YOU didn’t watch cartoons?”

“Yogi bear”

“SEE YOU DID”

“Merle only watched cartoons or fights”

“Sounds very Merle coded” Y/N laughs a bit as they branched off a bit into a different direction to check out a bush with fruit on it.

The archer kept an eye on them for the most part, not like they would need the extra set of eyes since their first response in danger is to fight or find the closest hiding spot. They were also one of those adventure types from the old world and would almost always be outside so he knew that they knew about certain signs of danger and especially what’s poisonous or not.

“Those berries good?”

“Nah. But it could be good bait for small critters that can have it” Y/N plucked a handful as the two quickly turned to the sudden scurry that was too quick for a walker and Daryl went to follow.

When the tracks came up empty, Daryl was hit in the head again and turned to Y/N who had just caught up to him.

“What?”

“Did yea hit me with a berry?”

“No but thanks for the idea” Y/N laughs kneeling down to grab the acorn that fell, also grabbing the few acorn caps off the ground. “You ever wear these on your finger tips? As a kid?”

“And pretend your fingers were friends or some shit”

“That’s incredibly sad. If only I lived near the forest in Georgia then we would’ve been friends. Always find me in the trees”

“City kid?”

“Yeah but my sister always took me to the park to get outside and yknow, also not to hear bickering soon-to-be divorced parents” They laugh a bit as they took one of Daryl’s hands to put an acorn cap on one of his fingers before finding another bush in their peripheral to go investigate.

Daryl looks at the little acorn cap they put on his finger and thought it was cute of them, but before a smile could even grace his features. Fear shot right through him.

“son of a—-FUCK!” Y/N yells as their voice echoed through the forest followed by the thud of their body hitting the ground. They looked down to find the bear trap latched onto their left ankle. “Fuck fuck FUCK” they were too afraid to move and once Daryl finally came over.

The color in his face drained as he knelt down to assess what happened.

“You should’ve watched where you were going”

“Seriously?!” Y/N snaps at him for stating an annoying yet obvious response. Only for the sudden jerk to worsen the pain as they couldn’t look at their blood drain from their body or they might pass out. “Oh god”

“Jesus fuckin’ christ—-We gotta get this shit off yea without taking the foot”

“Oh”

“Oh?!” Daryl stops messing with it to lock eyes with Y/N a moment as neither exchanged a word. “What the fuck is happening right now?! Did I hurt yea further or—-“

“SOMEONE HAS TO BE THE CALM ONE”

“DEFINITELY DOESNT GOTTE BE YOU”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEFORE THE WALKERS HEAR YOUR YELLING” Y/N snaps only for Daryl to cover their mouth waiting for the snap of twigs he heard to just be a critter and not what they had said a few seconds ago.

“I wish yea didn’t adapt your feelings to the situation when you’re the goddamn one that’s injured.”

“Freaking out to my full potential will only make me sob and the pain a whole lot worse” Y/N squeezed their eyes shut to fight back the tears as it was starting to get way worse. They carefully took their belt off even if it meant shifting, a wince, and Daryl flinching to the pain response. “Tourniquet”

“Smart. Very smart” Daryl takes the belt from them and got started applying such above their ankle before assessing what he should do next.

A lot of blood.

A lot of fucking blood.

It’s a 2hr window before they might lose it even with a tourniquet.

Y/N watches as Daryl thinks too loud in front of them. They were worrying about him even if they are the one bleeding less now. They clear their throat to get his attention as his expression instantly went to stress and worry thinking something worse was happening.

“Take the bear trap off, wrap the wound in your bandana, then carry me home so Denise can patch me up” their voice was shaky after silently crying a bit to themselves. Daryl did exactly what they said, a bit confused why they were so clear minded about it.

Next thing they knew, Daryl was carrying Y/N on his back all the way back to Alexandria.

“This shouldn’t have happened…”

“D, come on…”

“I knew this area had fuckin’ traps last time I was out. Should’ve taken them out before dragging you out here”

“You didn’t drag me out here” Y/N frowns. “And you would’ve gotten yourself caught in a bear trap. It just happens by accident”

“You shouldn’t have come…”

“I wanted to. You asked and I said yes…even if you didn’t I would’ve come out to find you if you’re didn’t leave a note like you usually do” They rest their head on his shoulder trying not to let the blood loss beat them with the exhaustion. “Shits unpredictable sometimes…”

“You’re too optimistic sometimes” Daryl sighs, listening to them hum in agreement as he felt their body shift against him. Making his anxiety pick up the pace to get to Alexandria.

It’s been a few hours and Y/N woke up exhausted but at least patched up and in the infirmary. They noticed they were alone but at least there was crutches to help them get around.

As they managed to get up and out of the building, Daryl was starting to head back to them carrying something when he noticed them on the crutches.

“You’re supposed to stay in the fuckin’ bed”

“Don’t tell me what to do” Y/N scoffs. “I wanna be in my bed. With you. Thank you very much” they were about to move past him when Daryl took their crutches leaving them still in a flamingo pose. “Daryl. Don’t be a dick”

“Let me set shit down inside and I’m carrying yea to bed. And ain’t taking no for an answer”

“Then can you hurry up? You or Denise or whoever took my jacket and I’m cold” Y/N frowns waiting for Daryl, watching him go inside the house leaving them out there longer than they had wanted.

But Daryl came back out in a little bit of a sprint with one of his sweaters, helping them get it on before picking them up bridal style and going toward the house.

“You gonna be nurse back to health?”

“Ain’t leavin’ yea that’s for sure”

“You’re sweet”

“You’d fall down the stairs if I left yea alone”

“I think I’m gonna take back calling you sweet” Y/N laughs resting their head on his shoulder as he pushes every door he had to open with his foot. Eventually getting to their room and setting them on the bed.

The archer carefully propped up their ankle using his pillow and covered them with his blanket. Y/N got comfortable watching Daryl move around the room moving a few things but then he left to grab something.

When he came back a moment later, Y/N had fallen asleep given their body was still wiped out and the drugs Denise gave them still floated around. Daryl set the glass of water on their nightstand along with fresh bandages for when they wake up so he could put new ones on. In the mean time, he moved to his side of the bed taking his boots off before bringing his whole self beside them.

Y/N opened their eyes a sec to see him beside them as they carefully moved their self close enough to bring their head on his shoulder. Daryl rests his head on top of theirs taking the time to finally relax.

“At least there wasn’t any bears”

“Shut up and go to sleep”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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pupuyvs · 4 months

Text

87 (written)

Karina tapped her coffee cup once more, her ring making a noise each time she did. She’s grateful for how empty the cafe was at this moment, she knows if someone was next to her they would’ve lost their mind from the sound.

However she couldn’t help herself, she was meeting the girl who, up until this moment, was her “rival.”

She lets out an anxious sigh as she looks at her phone once more to see if Chaewon had sent her another message.

She finds herself automatically relaxing when she sees Sohyun had texted her a picture of Midnight sprawled out on her bed.

“Sorry I’m so late, they just let us out for a break.”

The sudden voice makes Karina jump before she puts her phone down to stand to greet the newcomer.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t here that long.”

Karina points to the chair in front of her to signal for Chaewon to sit down.

Once the short haired girl sat down, Karina took her seat.

After a few moments of awkward silence, most of it being Chaewon staring her down while she avoided eye contact, Karina decided to speak first.

“Have you ordered anything, their coffee is good.”

Karina doesn’t know why she said that, since she was too nervous to even try hers.

“No,” Chaewon started, “I don’t intend to stay here long.”

Karina nods, before biting her bottom lip. Due to the short haired girl still wearing her mask, it was hard to gauge just how exactly the girl was feeling. Which is of course a terrible thing for an anxious Karina, so she spits out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Listen, if you’re here to fight me, you should know we are both still idols and are in a very public area.”

She watches as the girls eyebrows furrow, before she hears a laugh.

“I’m not here to fight you Karina.”

“So, why are you here,” Karina questions.

Chaewon sighs and looks down at her hands that are currently on the table. After a few seconds she looks back up at the girl before speaking, “I’m here to tell you, I give up.”

“What?”

Chaewon lets out a breath, clearly annoyed. “Do I really have to repeat myself?”

Karina quickly shakes her head, “No, sorry. I’m just…confused. Last Sunday you were all ‘I’m going to win, you’re going to lose’ now you’re saying you’re done.”

“Yeah well..” Chaewon looks away, her lap suddenly seeming interesting to her, “Things change.”

When Karina doesn’t respond, Chaewon decides to speak again.

“She doesn’t want me, and I don’t want to keep chasing after her, especially when I don’t have a chance because of..”

The word “you” goes unsaid, but Chaewon makes it clear when she looks at Karina.

Karina nods slightly, “But why text me? Why have us meet here? No offense, but this truly could’ve been done through a text.”

“You’re right,” Chaewon starts, “I could’ve, but I called you here because…” Chaewon pauses before sighing.

“I plan on leaving Sohyun’s life, at least until I can be around her without it hurting me and the coward side of me couldn’t bare to tell her bye, so I came to tell you instead. So when I do disappear, at least you’ll know why.”

Karina’s eyebrows furrows, “You’re not going to tell her any of this?”

Chaewon shakes her head, “No.”

Karina sits back in her seat and nods after a few moments of silence.

“I don’t understand your logic, but I feel as though you don’t really understand it either, so I won’t question it.”

Chaewon nods before making eye contact with Karina, “All I ask is that you promise not to hurt her again, I don’t know what she sees in you, but she loves you and though that kills me it would kill me even more to know I gave up, left and you hurt her.”

Karina scoffs lightly, “I don’t owe you anything. However, I won’t hurt her, never again, I love her.”

Chaewon visibly relaxes before looking at her watch, “My break is almost up, and I’m sure she has been blowing up your phone.”

Both girls stand up and stare, a silent goodbye is exchanged.

As they both exit, both intending to go their separate ways, Chaewon calls for Karina.

“I just thought you should know, I heard Sohee is planning to come back today. I don’t know what you have planned but I suggest you enact it now.”

Before Karina could respond Chaewon simply gets in her manager’s car and leaves.

Processing the news Karina knows what she must do and immediately takes off to her new destination.

Jimin knew she must’ve looked insane, running through the streets of Seoul. And based on how Sooyoung is staring at her when she opened the door, she knows it’s true.

“Karina?”

Jimin puts a finger up as she attempts to catch her breath. When she can semi talk she stands straight and breathes in before speaking.

“Is Sohyun here?”

Sooyoung nods before opening the door for her. When Jimin walks in Sooyoung closes the door and hands her a pair of slippers which Jimin immediately puts on.

“Here, let me take your coat.”

Jimin shrugs off her coat and lets Sooyoung take it. Once in her hand Sooyoung pauses and tilts her head as she looks at it.

“This looks awfully familiar…”

Jimin blushes, “It’s the coat Sohyun gave me.”

Sooyoung nods before chuckling lightly and goes to go hang it.

“Why didn’t you tell me Sohee was coming today?”

Sooyoung head peeks out from where Jimin can only assume is the coat closet.

“How’d you find out?”

Jimin blushes a bit more, “I asked you a question first.”

Sooyoung closes the closet door and appears in front of Jimin, “I just found out an hour ago, I kind of forgot to tell you.”

Before Jimin could respond, a door opens which immediately makes both girls look.

“Hey Soo who was at the do-”

Sohyun stops speaking when she sees Jimin.

“Jimin?..”

Sooyoung looks at Jimin, who is seemingly dazed, and shakes her head, “Surprise.”

Sohyun furrows her eyebrows, “What are you-”

This time Sohyun is cut off by Jimin suddenly hugging her.

Sohyun freezes at first but after a few seconds melt into the hug. When Jimin feels her relax she holds onto her tighter, her cold fingers digging into the girls waist slightly causing the actress to get goosebumps.

Jimin pulls away after a few minutes looking at Sohyun she smiles, “Can we talk,” she asks softly.

Sohyun nods which causes Sooyoung to point in a random direction, “I’m just gonna go.”

When she walks off Sohyun tilts her head towards her room, “Let’s go in here, Sooyoung is too nosy.”

From a random spot in the apartment Sooyoung yells in objection, which causes Sohyun to roll her eyes and Jimin to laugh.

When they get in Sohyun’s room Jimin immediately kneels to greet the black cat who walks towards them.

“Hey Midnight, how’ve you been pretty girl?”

The black cat rubs against her hand, almost as if saying shes missed her.

Standing up, after petting the cat for a few, she looks around the girls room spotting the many flowers she sent her in the corner and the plushie she sent earlier this week on her bed.

She smiles as she walks over to the plushie, she can feel Sohyun’s eyes following her.

She picks up the stuffed toy and turns to Sohyun.

“You know my room are filled with these right now?”

The shorter girl tilts her head to the side as she moves to sit on the bed, “Is it?”

Jimin nods as she sits beside the actress, the plushie now between them.

“When Valentine’s Day happened, I was in such a bad mood I went for a walk, which don’t do if you’re single, couples everywhere. I saw one of those claw machines and played it, I realized it helped me feel better. So…every time I thought of you I would play, I sucked the first few times so I definitely would have more but…”

The idol looked up when she was met with silence and her eyes widened slightly when she saw Sohyun staring at her, thinking she messed up she went to apologize but was immediately cut off by the actress’ lips meeting her own.

Jimin froze momentarily and before she could reciprocate the actress was already pulling away, a blush painting her cheeks.

“Sorry, it’s just-” She was then cut off by Jimin kissing her.

Jimin pulled away this time, keeping their foreheads connected. She opened her eyes, making eye contact with the girl, immediately causing her to smile.

“No need to apologize.”

Sohyun simply looked down, flustered before she pulled away from Jimin, causing the idol to pout slightly.

Clearing her throat, Sohyun looked around before looking back at Jimin.

“You said you wanted to talk?”

“Ah, right..” Jimin clears her throat, “Sohyun, I want-”

Before she can finish Sohyun’s door slams open showing a panicked Sooyoung. Jimin groans in annoyance, what is with all the interruptions today?

“Sooyoung, what do you want,” Sohyun asks, also very clearly annoyed.

“Sohee’s here.”

This causes both girls to perk up, “What?”

If you asked Jimin how she thought today would go, sitting at a table next to Sooyoung across from Sohyun and her scary older sister, Sohee, would not have been her guess. Yet here she was, all of them silent as Sohee stared her down and she looked everywhere but back at her.

“So Sohee, how was your flight,” Sooyoung asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

“Fine.”

The three girls internally winced, clearly she was not happy.

“How was filming,” Sohyun asked her.

“Fine.”

“Yeah,” Jimin thought to herself, “I’m dead.”

“So Karina,” Sohee starts, her voice cold.

“You can just call me Jimin.”

The oldest blinks at her before starting again, “Karina.”

Jimin hears Sooyoung whisper “damn” which causes her to start anxiously shaking her leg.

“What are your intentions with my sister?”

“Sohee…” she hears Sohyun start.

“It’s fine Hyun.”

The nickname causes Sohee to glare at her, “I mean Sohyun. It’s a reasonable question.”

“Umm,” Jimin clears her throat, “I don’t have any bad intentions with your sister. I know my reputation isn’t really the best with you, and I know it’s my fault and I take full responsibility for that. But I love your sister, and if she’ll let me, I want to be with her and make her happy.”

Sohyun clearly is happy with her response as she whispers a small “I will,” which everyone hears. Sooyoung and Jimin smile, while Sohee just glares at Jimin even more.

“And why should I believe that?”

The question catches Jimin off guard since she was too busy giving Sohyun heart eyes.

“Well truthfully, you shouldn’t, I mean I haven’t given you any reason to believe anything I say. But, if you’d just give me the chance to, I’d really like to prove to you that I mean what I said.”

When she finishes she sees Sooyoung nod, “That was good,” she whispers to her before showing her her palm for a high five below the table, which Jimin of course reciprocates, which leads Sohee to glare at the both of them.

When both of them immediately look down at their hands like children getting scolded Sohee sighs.

“I know about your plan.”

This immediately causes Sooyoung and Jimin to look up in shock, while Sohyun looks confused.

“What?”

“How?”

“What plan?”

Sohee raises her eyebrow before pointing towards Sooyoung with her head, “Your girlfriend told me.”

“Fuck!”

“Dude.”

“Wait what plan?”

Sohee places a hand on Sohyun’s lap as a way to get her to quiet down.

“And while I don’t approve of the fact you were trying to go behind my back. I do approve that you would do anything for my sister.”

Jimin looks at her expectantly, “Meaning?…”

“Meaning…I’ll give you a chance to prove me wrong. I won’t try and stop you guys from getting together nor be a hinderance.”

Before the three could celebrate Sohee speaks again, “However, if you prove me right, I will ruin your life, do you understand me, Yoo Jimin?”

Jimin feels a chill run down her spine as she nods, “I understand.”

Sohee smiles and visibly relaxes in her chair at that, “Great! Now who’s hungry? I brought takeout.”

After eating and getting to know Sohee better, Jimin found herself back in Sohyun’s room lying next to her.

Jimin brushed a stray hair out of Sohyun’s face as she smiled at her.

“So,” she starts, breaking the silence, “Am I sleeping over?”

Sohyun acts like she’s thinking before speaking, “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask the boss of the house.”

Jimin pouts, “Why didn’t you tell me while we were out there, I would’ve asked Sohee then.”

The actress rolls her eyes at her, “I was talking about Midnight…Sohee doesn’t even live here.”

The idol shrugs before looking at the cat that was currently laid in a ball between them.

“She said yes.”

Sohyun laughed, “You didn’t even ask her.”

Jimin shakes her head, “I did, you just didn’t hear.”

“Yeah okay.”

The two laugh before Jimin stares at the girl, which flusters her. “What,” she asks.

“Nothing, just wondering if you’ll be mine again.”

Sohyun stays silent, pretending she’s thinking about it, which causes Jimin to pout. “Hyun…”

Sohyun laughs before leaning forward to peck away her pout, “You’re so impatient.”

“I can’t help it, so?…”

The actress smiles at her, “Of course.”

Jimin immediately breaks into a huge smile and pulls the girl closer to her, Midnight having been moved, annoyed from their movements.

She stares down at the actress, “You’re mine again.”

“I’m yours,” the actress confirms.

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taglist: @thefckghost @emgchip @yoontoonwhs @rinapomu @chaewoni3 @flolio @petruchiosstuff @glassflowerpetals @multiliker @minjeongswife @xen248 @mineige @sewiouslyz @jisooftme @r4cjh @bbanghanni @uzumakioden @lesbodietcoke @twicesserafim

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thezombieprostitute · 4 months

Text

Dream Come True - Part 6

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Kidnapping, Mild violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

“So where are we at with identifying the culprit?” Steve’s voice was tight, even over speakerphone.

“Jake’s identified the hacker,” Curtis reported. “But we’re still nowhere closer to finding out what they want or who they’re working for.”

“Has anyone tried contacting the hacker,” Bucky asked from the phone.

“If we did that we could alert their boss,” Mace warned. “That could get Ran killed if we’re not careful.”

You were sitting with Jake, listening to the conversation. Curtis had initially not wanted you to partake but you had to present your case to the Bosses, backed up by Jake’s data. You fidgeted nervously, feeling helpless.

“Jake did manage to get a foothold in hacker’s bugs so we can hear anything that they hear,” Curtis continued. “Is there a way you can call him about something? Maybe get a code phrase from him?”

Everyone heard Bucky curse at that, “the idiot never learned them. Insisted he’d never need them.”

“So,” Steve started, “we’ve got a possible hostage situation where Ransom is being watched closely and he was only able to communicate with Teach?”

“That’s actually a good point,” Mace perked up. “Why did he send those to her? To her apartment, specifically? Why wouldn’t he send, or something similar, to someone in the family? Or even to the cybercafe where he knew she worked?”

“Probably because she’s not in the family,” Bucky pondered aloud. “Anything he sent to us, legitimate side of things or not, would be flagged for suspicion. They don’t know she’s connected to us.”

“Then I can go in,” you blurt out. All heads in the room snapped to look at you. Instead of letting yourself be intimidated, you continued, “I…I could go in under the guise of angrily returning his gifts. I’ll wear something he’ll recognize as acknowledgement of his code…something one of his characters would’ve worn.”

“No,” Curtis barked. “There are too many unknowns here.”

“She might be our best bet,” Steve intervened. “Teach, how will you know if your message is getting across?”

“Well, Jake’s only identified audio trackers, right? What if I were able to write a question or something while yelling at him about the gifts? Maybe even write some cards out beforehand to make it easier?” While Mace and Jake nodded acknowledgement and thought about it, you could feel your confidence withering under the intensity of Curtis’s glare.

“I don’t know what other practical options we have,” Bucky commented.

“NO,” Curtis snarled. “We’re not putting an outsider in danger! She’s not part of the family, she shouldn’t be risking herself like this.” While his words were for everyone else, his eyes never left you. You’d never seen him so worked up before. It gave you an idea as to why his people tended to follow orders over arguing with him.

“We have audio,” Steve interjected. “She can set up some code phrases or words of her own and let us know what’s going on.” Curtis opened his mouth to say something but Steve cut him off, “and if you try saying no again, Curtis, I’ll leave you out of the planning. Especially if you have no better alternatives.” Curtis clenched his jaw, still glaring at you. Part of you wanted to shy away from him, but you needed to show him you could back up your talk so you stayed firm.

“What are some possible things you could fit into a natural conversation to give us updates,” Mace asked you.

“Um…well, if I call him “Mr. Drysdale”, like I always did, it’ll mean everything’s okay. If I call him “Ransom”, it’ll mean there’s something wrong but I can’t identify it. If I call him “Hugh”, I’m telling you I’m in danger, please come get me now. Do you think you can work with that?”

Mace nodded and added, “if there are other people there, complain about working for him for so many years, using the number of years to tell us how many there are.” You nod in understanding.

“I’ll call Destroyer to set her up with a car,” Bucky chimed in. “He’ll make sure it has no identifiers that can mark her as suspicious. Be ready to go in thirty, Teach.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, just loud enough to make sure he can hear you. You’re still faltering under Curtis’s silent deathglare. You see him twitch at your words and a bit of pain seeping into his eyes.

You pull up into the driveway and put the car in park before taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Jake, Mace and Hal ran you through a bunch of possible conversation scenarios to help you practice your improv and keep your cool.

Curtis seemed to withdraw, focusing instead on getting you the items you needed. He gathered all of the gifts from your apartment to put in the car. He also picked up the four-leaf clover earrings and the Celtic-shield-knot talisman you needed to convey, in Ransom’s code, that the message had been received. As much as his stares made you uncomfortable before, as you left you wished he’d at least look at you.

You take a deep breath, “no going back,” you tell yourself. You step outside the car and grab the gifts before heading inside. You were too stressed to stand and wait after knocking or ringing the bell so you opt to lean into the energy and slam open the door. You stomp towards Ransom’s office where you see him pacing back and forth.

“Mr. Drysdale,” you scold. Ransom’s head snaps to you, he almost seems relieved.

“Ah, Sweetheart,” he purred, “you got my gifts!” He walks closer to you and you see a piece of paper in his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Drysdale. And I’m here to return them to you. I told you, I’m not going to work for you again.” As you speak you hold out your own pre-written card that asks, “someone’s listening?”

Ransom nods, his body language conflicting with his entreating tone, “oh but Angel, you know how well I treat you! No one makes you come like I do.”

“Mr. Drysdale!” Your eyes flash with irritation but he holds out his hands, placatingly, complete with the note you’d seen earlier.

As you take the note he continues, “come on, Angel. I can pay you more and you can get back to worshiping my cock like you did before. Please! You’ve ruined me for other women with that gorgeous, meaty ass.”

Without thinking you smack him hard across the face, “Mr. Drysdale, you will never speak to me again. If you even think about sending me anything else, I’ll get a restraining order!” You turn around and storm out, the note now in your purse. Ransom takes the opportunity to get some ice on his face, hoping he won’t get yet another bruise.

You return to the car and drive away as fast as you safely can. Your eyes are tearing up so you can’t drive too fast. When you feel you’re a safe distance away, you pull into a parking lot and catch your breath. You open up the note and text a photo of it to Jake. You can barely read it because of the tears that keep falling. You hope it’s a good enough photo before you put the note back in your purse and give yourself a minute to catch your breath.

You’re about to turn the car back on and head back when someone taps on your window. Startled, you turn and see a man with bright blue eyes and a thick mustache smiling at you. You roll down your window just a little so you can hear him.

“Hey there, Sunshine,” he leers at you. “What’s a lady like you doing out here by yourself?”

“If you can’t tell me why you’re bothering me, I’m just going to drive off,” you scowled.

“No need for that,” he assures. “I just figured since you told off your boss, you could use a new man to take care of those needs for you. And you are just my type.”

Your eyes widen at his words and you go to start the car. He flashes his gun at you and you freeze up.

“Careful, there, Pumpkin,” I get that you’ve been through a bad breakup with Ran, but I’ll treat you right. If you behave.”

“Um,” you hesitate, visibly shaking. “Can I…can I text my friends? They’re expecting a message of some kind. I’ll just tell them I’m making up with him so they don’t go looking for me?”

“I get to read the message before you send it.”

“Of course, Mr…”

He smiles, making your stomach churn, “just call me Lloyd, Pumpkin.”

“Yes, Lloyd,” you nod. You grab your phone and type out the message to what you hope is an unrecognizable number, before showing it to him.

“Making up with Hugh,” he reads aloud. “Succinct and efficient. I like your style. Go ahead and send it, then come on out of that car and let me show you a great time.”

You hit send and put the phone in your purse, making sure to carry the purse with you as you step out and he leads you to his own vehicle.

Part 5 -- Part 7

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@lokislady82

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x plus size!reader #curtis everett x insecure!reader #mafia!curtis everett #mob!curtis everett #curtis everett #plus size!reader #ongoing series

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