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#get lit Jesus YAS
empresskylo · 7 months
Note
headcanons for the cod men if they found out you were a virgin... i promise this is not self indulgent 🫣
𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 includes: ghost, price, soap, alejandro, konig, and gaz. afab!reader. female pet names used. reader refers to self as a woman.
GHOST *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
♡ ok ok ok, he would have never thought he’d want to be specifically with a virgin. like it never really crossed his mind before now, but he just assumed he’d always like being with someone more experienced. he likes a quick hook up. doesn’t have the time to be all gentle and soft and caring for someone who's never done it before, ya know? not that he's an asshole or anything, but he never thought he'd be the right person to take someone's virginity.
♡ but when you tell him you’re a virgin, something stirs inside him. he doesn’t mind. not one bit. if anything, he actually gets a little giddy, wanting to be the one who shows you how it’s done.
♡ and he ends up being rather sweet about it. he goes slow. he takes his time. he spends a good amount of time prepping you. “jus’ lay back, sweetheart. gotta make sure you’re good n’ ready to take me.”
♡ when it finally comes down to it, he’s easy to edge into you. you grip his shoulders tightly, squeezing your eyes shut. “gotta talk to me, love. gotta know i’m not hurtin’ you.” you nod and look up at him. “i’m okay. keep going. please.” he kisses your lips and continues in. after a few painstaking moments, “alright. i’m halfway. jus’ a lil more.” “only halfway?! jesus fucking—“ ghost laughs, his hand caressing your face and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. when he’s finally fully seated, he groans, fisting the sheets beside your head to keep himself from rutting into full force.
♡ “ah. you okay, pet?” “y-yes. are you all the way in?” “mhm” “okay. just… give me a moment.” “take your time, love. we got all night.” you let yourself adjust for several moments. “can you move, now?” he kisses you, slowly dragging himself halfway out and then pushing back into you, making you both gasp into each other’s mouths. "you're so fuckin' tight," he groans as he tries to take his time. he doesn't want to hurt you.
♡ and he knows the rumor that women don't usually orgasm their first time, so he wanted to make sure you came at least twice before he shoved his cock in you. he wants you to associate this with a positive experience.
♡ and he tries his hardest to make you feel good too. he begins to rub your clit as he thrusts and you moan loudly. he grins. "you like that, princess?" you nod your head vigorously. and sure enough, he's able to make you come around his cock and he swears that was some of the best sex of his life. it wasn't the fact that you were a virgin, it was the trust and the intimacy of it that made this so good for him. he never thought he'd care for things like that until now.
PRICE *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
♡ price doesn't really mind either way, but he was definitely surprised when you told him -- he couldn't believe someone as beautiful as you had never slept with anyone. but he's honored that you'd trust him enough to experience that with him.
♡ he kisses you and lays you down on his bed, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "jus' let me take care of you, love," he coos. you bite your lip and nod. he starts by going down on you, making you come on his tongue like he has before. then he's back above you, wanting your first time to be in missionary, making you as relaxed as possible.
♡ he even made it all sweet and lit some candles (":
♡ he constantly is getting consent and checking in on you. "you feelin' okay?" "jus' tell me to stop if you don't like it." "want me to keep goin'?" "tell me what you want, sweetheart." "this feels good, yeah?"
♡ when he's fully inside you, he strokes your hair and kisses you multiple times. "see, wasn't so bad," he teases gently.
♡ with price, it's really not awkward at all. he doesn't let it be. he's so sweet and considerate the whole time. when he's thrusting inside you, he checks to make sure he's not going too hard.
♡ and he knows the sex will only get better, so he tells you not to worry if you don't finish alongside him. and you don't finish with him, but he makes sure to get you off after.
♡ he holds himself inside you after he comes, grunting and panting above you. then he looks down at you. "i wanna feel you come on my cock, love." you look a bit confused and he starts rubbing your clit, keeping himself planted inside you. with the pressure of the situation over, you're much more relaxed and apt to orgasm. so it doesn't take you long to spasm around him, and he fucking loves it. "god, you feel amazing, princess." and he looks at you with such admiration as you catch your breath and come down from your high.
♡ "it will only get better from here," he teases.
♡ after he pulls out and gets up, he scoops you up too, making you squeal. he carries the two of you to the bathroom to shower and clean up. he washes your hair. helps you put your clothes on (making sure it's his stuff you're wearing) and pulls you into bed with him, his arm wrapped around you.
SOAP *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
♡ johnny has no issue with it at all. he really thinks nothing of it. he didn't care if you were a virgin or not, so when you tell him, all it does is lets him know he needs to be a bit slower with you. and you truly appreciate him not making a big deal about it.
♡ it'd probably happen one time when you two are making out on the couch. things get a little heated and his hands are all over you. he gropes your breast through your shirt and you moan in his mouth. he pushes you back on the couch and teases your shirt up. "j-johnny," you say between kisses. "yes, lass?" "you remember i'm a virgin, right?" "mhm," he kisses you again. "did you want me t'stop?" "n-no," you whine as he rubs a hand over your clothed clit. "i just don't want to disappoint you." he looks at you in annoyance. "what? why would ya disappoint me?" he sees the shy look in your eyes like you're a bit ashamed. "lass, you could never disappoint me. i just want you. but if you don't wanna do anything, that's okay too." he kisses your nose and caresses the side of your face.
♡ with that out of the way, you tell him you do want to. he promises to go slow. and he does. he asks how you want it. you can ride him if that would make you more comfortable, being able to control the pace and all.
♡ you straddle him on the couch, soap's hands running all across your torso. squeezing and cupping your breast. gliding over your ribcage. going down to your ass and pulling you forward.
♡ you're slow when you lower yourself on him and johnny's head falls to the back of the couch, trying to contain himself. "you feel so good," he whines out.
♡ lots and lots of little praises. he wants to make sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. "that's it, love." "fuckin' hell, you’re takin’ me so well." "does it feel good?"
♡ and he'll rub your clit with his thumb, smiling as you collapse into him, your arms around his neck as you continue to bounce on top of him.
♡ you're definitely pleased when you orgasm around him, sending soap over the edge as well.
♡ then he kisses you, runs his hand through your hair, and pulls you into his lap where he'll tell you how good you were, how much he loved that. and he'll make sure you had a nice time too. wanting to make sure you feel good about yourself.
ALEJANDRO *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
♡ gets a little bit of sick satisfaction knowing he’s going to have been the only one to have had you. “gettin’ you all for myself, then, mi amor?”
♡ even though he’s thoroughly enjoyed sex for years and has developed a taste for what he likes and dislikes, he’s charmed to be with someone who is so new at this. it’s a new experience for him in that sense.
♡ he definitely wants you comfortable before he tries anything, BUT, he goes absolutely fucking feral when he gets you to blush and act all shy and awkward. gets off embarrassing you. “you want me to fuck that tight little cunt of yours?” he says. your eyes widen and your cheeks get hot/flush. “a-alejandro” you whimper, a bit startled at his dirty mouth. “hmm? did you think my teasing stopped at the bedroom?” he winks.
♡ “tell me how you want it, mi amor. do you want my cock?” you nod sheepishly. “uh-uh,” he scolds. “gotta use your words.” you turn your face away from him in embarrassment. “yes.” “yes what?” “yes, i want your cock.” your entire body is on fire and alejandro grins madly. he never would have thought innocence would turn him on so much.
♡ but he’s really quite sweet in the moment. even though he does tease you quite a bit, he’s always reading your body and making sure he’s not hurting you and that you’re enjoying yourself. “just tell me if you want me to stop,” he says down at you. “okay?” he asks. you nod, “okay.” “esa es mi buena chica.” that’s my good girl.
♡ even though his is being careful, he can't help but get turned on when your nails are digging into his back and your face is scrunched up. "it's so much," you whimper out. that honestly sends him over the edge. he gets a little sense of pride knowing how intense everything was for you -- and for him.
♡ he makes sure you're not hurt once everything is done and he cleans you up and holds you close to him.
KÖNIG *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
♡ you were a bit nervous to tell him, so you kinda waited until the last minute.
♡ könig had you pinned beneath him, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck, making you giggle. after he’s torn your clothes off and is back to attacking your lips, you break away to mumble at him. “i’ve… never done this before,” you said shyly. he looks at you, his eyes flickering between yours. “is this okay? do you want me to stop?” you shake your head. “no, no. i just wanted you to know.” he smiles and kisses you again.
♡ he’s okay with being your first, but it definitely makes him a bit nervous. he knows he’s going to have to be the one to take control of the situation, figuring you might be a bit shy/awkward and not know how to lead. but he’s okay with that.
♡ he also doesn’t want to hurt you. my guy is 6’7” so i mean… he’s got a big dick, i’m sure of it—he told me himself. he makes you orgasm like 4 times beforehand, absolutely tiring you out, but also making you relaxed and more ready for him.
♡ he’s planted between your legs and you're still panting from your last orgasm, and he lines himself up. “m’gonna go slow,” he tells you. you nod and he slowly enters you. your hands grip his shoulders tightly, already feeling the pressure of him stretching you out. (and even if you weren’t a virgin, it would still be like this tbh. size kink initiated)
♡ it takes a few minutes for him to bottom out. he does little half thrusts with only part of him inside you, trying to ease his way in. “i don’t think you can fit,” you whine out. “you can take it, liebling. jus’ a little—ungh—furtherrrrr—fuck,” he groans as he fills you completely. you’re whimpering under him, but mostly in pleasure.
♡ he catches his breath before asking you if he can move. you nod. he kisses your lips, mumbling against you, “i’ll be gentle.” he begins to rock into you.
♡ and he is. he’s slow and soft with you, mumbling praises. he tries his hardest to get you to give him another orgasm, rubbing your clit. you whine and squirm under him. you trust him so much that you’re actually relaxed enough to orgasm your first time with him.
♡ he’s stopped moving inside you so he can focus solely on rubbing your clit. finally, you clamp down on him and come. you’re so breathtakingly beautiful under him, squeezing him so fucking tight, that könig orgasms right then and there, without even having to move. both of you are a little shocked and you end up giggling.
♡ he lays on top of you, resting his head on your chest, his hands wrapped around you, while you stroke his hair. he leaves a little trail of kisses on your skin and you both lay there for a bit, content and entangled together.
GAZ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
♡ gaz is a bit baffled about what to do. like he gives off hot shit energy, but when you tell him he’d be your first, he gets flustered. he feels pressured to make sure it’s good since he will be your first impression of sex.
♡ you end up having to tell him to calm down. “kyle, oh my god, it’s fine! it doesn’t have to be perfect. i just want it to be with you.” and that definitely relaxes him a bit. he just doesn’t wanna ruin this for you. it’s actually quite sweet.
♡ he’s on the bed, on top of you, kissing you and slowly stripping both of your clothing. when you’re both in underwear he makes an offer. “did you wanna be on top, love?” you give him an unsure look. “idk, i'm not really sure what i’m doing,” you say shyly, playing with the chain around his neck as it dangles above you. gaz rolls over and takes you with him. “you don’t havta if you don’t wanna, but this way you get to control everything. because shit… idk how well i’m gonna be able to control myself once i’m in you.” your face goes red hot.
♡ you take him up on his offer and stay straddling him. you let him help you line yourself up with him and you sink down ever so slowly, gritting your teeth as you do. gaz has his hands on your hips, panting as you take him teasingly slow. “that’s it, baby,” he encourages.
♡ your hands rest on his chest, sitting slightly forward as you take your time sinking down all the way. once you’re fully seated, gaz let’s out a guttural grunt, his eyes squeezed shut, his voice strained, “fuck—yeah, good t-thing you’re leadin’ this because with how fuckin’ good ya feel, i'd be tempted to fuckin' plow right into you.” his words leave you slightly embarrassed. gaz opens his eyes and looks at you lovingly. “ugh, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he groans.
♡ not only does his words make you more excited, but it makes you more confident. you begin to move up and down, putting your weight on your hands. gaz hands grip your hips tightly in his fingers, clawing at you as you ride him.
♡ after several minutes of this, he rolls you under him making you squeal. “i can’t hold back any longer,” he says as he slides out of you and thrusts back in. he definitely does it more powerfully than you were, but it doesn’t hurt. it feels good letting him do the work. he buries his head in your neck, “jus’ let me know if i’m going to fast.”
♡ it isn’t much longer until you’re squeezing around him, making him groan and grunt wildly. just hearing him like that, knowing it’s you causing it, has you spilling over the edge. the way you tighten around him sends him over the edge as well.
♡ you’re both panting as he lays beside you, pulling you into him. “jesus,” he murmurs. “i always thought it was supposed to kinda suck for women the first time,” you said. gaz looks down at you, running his fingers in your hair, and laughs. you both begin giggling, both ecstatic and feeling amazing. you’ve never felt closer to him in that moment.
♡ gaz couldn’t believe how good it felt to have you coming with him and he's so excited, he's rolling you under him, asking if you're ready for round two.
7K notes · View notes
un-lawliet · 5 months
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WHAT IF teen!Gojo and teen!reader are best friends teetering on the edge of lovers but they get into a petty little argument and start ignoring each other right???? so reader goes on a date with someone else to be petty and Gojo internally freaks out. So, him and his friends get in disguises as Gojo tries to sabotage the date without being noticed but instead he accidentally helps the other guy look great and impressive every time💀
Geto, shoko, and Nanami don’t help Satoru. They just watch and laugh😭 good fluffy ending though pls
THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST !!!!! i loved this idea so so much- i kinda tweaked the request slightly but i hope this is ok <3 i love you and thank you for your patience !
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“Normal”
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- in which you’re on a date with someone that isn’t Gojo.
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“Does this count as stalking?”
It absolutely did count as stalking.
Gojo, Shoko, Nanami and Geto were currently huddled in a dimly lit booth hunkering down as to not be seen by you…or your pompous looking date sat opposite you.
“It’s not stalking.” Gojo splutters, glaring at Geto through the top of his sunglasses, “It’s just..just-”
“You tracking Y/N down and making us watch her on a date.” Shoko muses, rolling a cigarette between her fingers, reaching for her lighter.
“Exactly!”
Nanami groans, his head falling backwards, hair falling over the curve of his eyebrows, hiding his face slightly.
Shaking his head, a small grin dances across Geto’s calm face, watching as Gojo pouts and glares at your table, eyes completely trained on your face.
“‘S’not even that good looking, she just has a thing for guys that flatter her.” He grumbles under his breath, flicking the fancy wall he leaned on.
“Think most girls enjoy feelin’ pretty Gojo.” Shoko replies, hand still feeling around in her pocket, “Oh fuck sakes, I’ve lost my lighter…Hey- Geto, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare one on ya?”
Geto nodded, tossing her a purple lighter from across the table, smiling gently as she thanked him.
“You shouldn’t smoke inside.” Nanami mutters, now staring down at the menu in-front of him, finger tracing along the prices in thought, seeming to pause on the brownie section.
“No one can see, we’re fine.” She sighs, taking a drag and blowing it towards Gojo, grinning as he dramatically clutches his chest, gasping for air.
“What’s the point of us even being here Gojo.” Nanami huffs, side eyeing the bakery stand parallel to their table.
“Because, I need to show her that this..this loser is nothing compared to me!”
“I don’t know Satoru.” Geto muses, taking a sip of his camomile, “Y/N seems pretty into him.”
“Suguru!” Gojo gasps in horror, betrayal dripping from his voice and on to the curve of his disgusted face.
Shoko wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, inhaling before continuing. “He has a point Gojo, I mean look, you ever see her smile like that?”
Gojo whips his head around to stare at you, and Shoko covers her mouth to hide a poorly restrained giggle, sharing a glance with Geto.
“I make her smile like that- She smiles like that with me!!” He whines, and Nanami rolls his eyes.
A waitress smashes a glass from behind the café’s counter, you jump slightly in your seat and turn to look over at the sound, you don’t notice the group of strange looking teenagers ducking down at your movement, concealing themselves poorly in their seats.
Your date laughs at you, you blush and turn back to him bashfully, excusing yourself for being so on edge.
Gojo glares.
“So what’s the plan then Gojo.” Nanami drawls, resting his face on his palm.
“Yes! The plan!” Gojo splutters, looking away from your pretty, pretty face to look at the three of them.
He hesitates and Shoko groans.
“You do have a plan don’t you?”
“Of course I do!..So, the plan..the plan um, well-”
“He has no plan.” Geto interrupts.
“Jesus Christ Gojo.”
“Does that mean I can leave?”
“Shut up!” Gojo exclaims, “I’m thinking give me a second would ya?”
“Nanami if your leaving I’m coming with you.”
“Wanna go now Shoko?”
“Guys!”
Gojo slumps forward in his chair, his face resting on the table as he whines.
Geto rests a hand on his back and chuckles, shaking his head at the two other sorcerers.
“It’s ok Satoru, we can all figure something out ‘kay?”
“Yea?” Gojo replies, his voice muffled by the table.
“Yea.”
Instantly, Gojo springs up, his eyes as wide as his smile.
“Ok let’s brainstorm.” Geto suggest, his voice like honey as he removes his hand from Gojo’s back and reaches back to his tea.
“What if we spill tea over him!” Gojo gasped, pointing towards the cup in Geto’s hand, a sharp look crossing his face.
“Stupid. Y/N would see us.” Shoko grumbles.
“No- See Shoko, the point of a brain storming session means we make suggestions and listen without judgement.” Gojo argues, crossing his arms.
“Yea but your idea was stupid.” Nanami concludes, watching as Shoko nods.
“You suggest something then Nanamin!”
“I’m suggesting nothing, this whole idea is foolish.”
“OoOoh “Foolish” is it?”
“I’m leaving.”
Nanami stands up reaching for his bag, scowling at Gojo.
“Hey, hey Nanami c’mon ignore him he’s just..” Geto pauses with a quick regard to Gojo, “He’s just Satoru.”
“An idiot.” Shoko chimes.
“Yes, an idiot.”
Nanami sighs as he sits down, placing his brown bag back at his feet reluctantly ignoring Gojo’s grin.
“…What if we trip up the waitress as she’s bringing them their food.” Shoko suggests, twirling a piece of hair around her finger.
“That could work!”
“No, Satoru, that just causes trouble to the waiting staff.”
“And?”
Geto rolls his eyes, “We don’t need to cause anyone any trouble just because you’re too afraid to just ask Y/N out.”
“I am not afraid!” Gojo moans, putting his face in his hands.
“Uh huh, that’s why you fell out with her when she told you about the date.” Shoko laughs, wiping off ash from her arm.
“What was I supposed to do?” Gojo queries, frowning.
“Talk to her?” Nanami deadpans, “Like a normal person.”
“Our Gojo isn’t normal though.” Shoko winks, nudging an unamused Nanami.
“Focus guys.” Geto says, clapping his hands twice to draw attention.
Your sweet laugh echoes through the cafe, and Gojo pouts, shoulders slumping.
You were supposed to be sitting opposite him laughing.
It was supposed to be his food with which you shared.
And yet one petty argument about some random guy you had met in returning from your last mission asking you out, had ruined everything.
The shared glances between you and Gojo, how you leaned on his shoulder when you slept in classes, the way he would always keep an eye on your cursed energy when joining you in battle.
All those little moments had dissolved in the bitter moments after you informed him of your date, a small smile dancing in your eyes.
“He said I was pretty Toru’” You had said, your eyes wide, and Gojo wanted to cover the love sick gleam glistening in your eyes with his hand.
“I always think your pretty.” He mumbled, watching you cock your head in confusion.
“What was that?” You questioned, leaning towards him slightly, trying to recall his quiet words.
“Nothin’.” His curt response didn’t phase you as you moved backwards, a charming skip in your step.
“Think he sounds stupid.” Gojo was never good at expressing his true feelings, and in that moment, Gojo’s sheer panic over you leaving him overpowered his aloofness.
“You think someone thinking I’m pretty is stupid?” Your shoulders fell, and you turn to him, a small lour crossing your face.
“What? No? That’s not what I-”
“It what’s you said though Toru’” You sighed, and Gojo cursed at himself for the glimmer of insecurity that appeared to vex you in that moment.
“It’s just- Well he’s just stupid.”
“So you are calling him stupid for telling me I’m pretty.”
“No! He’s stupid! Not his words!”
“That’s the same thing Gojo!”
“Is not!”
“Is too!”
And now Gojo’s watching as Geto summons one of his smallest and weakest curses to push your stupid dates chair over, sunglasses off and held in his fist.
“Oh so we’re actually going with this plan? I wasn’t imagining it?” Shoko muses, stealing a forkful of Nanami’s brownie.
“Nobody else had any better ideas.” Gojo silenced, waving a hand in her direction, practically clamouring on top of Geto to watch.
“Satoru watch it, I can’t see where my curse is going with you on me.” Geto scolds, brushing the white haired man off.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Nanami’s disinterest oozes out from his voice, nudging his plate over to Shoko who smiles brightly at his offer.
Geto flexes his hand, ensuring that the curse went unnoticed by you, it ducked under a table and weaved between chair legs.
“Make sure Y/N doesn’t see it!” Gojo panics, his hand covering his mouth.
Geto pauses, and looks over his shoulder towards Gojo, eyebrow raised.
“…Sit down Satoru.”
And Gojo immediately drops, hands on his legs.
The curse bobbles over to under your dates chair, and Geto smiles, before releasing his hold.
.
.
.
The sound of your dates chair toppling over boomed through the cafe, and with a swift flick of his finger, the curse dissapears, and all four of the sorcerer’s immediately drop their heads.
“Oh my God? Are you ok?!” Your concerned voice follows, and you stand up instantly, rushing towards your date, who grins at you from the floor.
“Oops, must have slipped.” He smiles, accepting your hand in helping in up, wiping the memory of his fall off of his jeans. “At least I have a pretty lady to help me in my moment of weakness.”
You giggle, and push his shoulder, “Oh shush you tease.” Bending over to pick up his chair.
“Oh no don’t worry I got it.” Your date winks, helping you lift the chair.
“How??!?!” Gojo groans, watching you swoon, “What is happening?”
“Man.. She must really like him eh?” Shoko offers, sharing a cheeky smile with Geto.
“Maybe it’s hopeless.” Nanami chimes in, “Do you want to finish this?” He asks Shoko, gesturing to the half eaten brownie.
“Actually?”
“Yea go on, you seem to be enjoying it.”
“Maybe.” Geto cuts in, “Maybe we should just leave them be? Let it fizzle out naturally?”
“What if there is no naturally Suguru.” Gojo mopes, kicking the leg of the table.
“Gojo it’s obvious she likes you, and it’s obvious you’re both smitten.” Shoko says, her voice muffled and she finishes Nanami’s brownie.
“..You think?”
“Everyone thinks.” Nanami replies, “Haibara thought you two were dating when we first joined the school.”
“How is Haibara by the way?” Geto questioned, “Why didn’t he join us?”
“Not sure, he said something about needing more sleep before his first solo mission.”
“Isn’t that next week?” Shoko adds.
“He likes his sleep.”
“Come on guys! Focus!!” Gojo exclaims. “I’m in a dire situation here!!”
“A dire situation that could be solved with a conversation, Gojo.” Nanami rolls his eyes.
“Try the curse again Suguru.”
“Satoru it didn’t work once, it probably won’t work a second time.”
“Ugh.” Gojo slumps back, a sigh escaping his lips. “If you’re all so sure Y/N likes me, then why is she with that loser right now?”
“She probably got tired waiting for you to make a move Gojo.” Shoko replies.
“Yea the “will they, won’t they” becomes tiresome after a while.” Geto agrees, pushing his empty cup towards the middle of the table.
“Ah!” Shoko says pointing over at you.
“They’re leaving Gojo.” Nanami affirms, joining Shoko in pointing.
“What?!?” Gojo gapes, “No!”
Geto laughs, shoving Gojo to his feet, watching you leave the cafe. “Go get her Satoru.”
“But how?” Gojo moans.
“Just go!” They all exclaim, and Gojo pauses for a split second before he’s bounding towards the door.
By the time he’s outside, you’re waving goodbye to your date, promising to call him as he walks the other way.
You look happy he thinks, and suddenly feels very out of place.
Gojo’s begins to turn to go back into the cafe, admitting defeat, when he hears your voice behind him.
“Gojo?” You gasp, disbelief permeating from your voice. And Gojo freezes, turning around awkwardly to face you.
“Hi.” Gojo replied, scuffing his shoes against the ground as he approaches you, hands in his pockets attempting to appear cool.
You look at him, your mouth slightly agape as you fiddle with the sleeve of your jumper, processing his appearance.
“You followed me to my date?” You ask accusingly, glancing around.
“He didn’t offer to take you home?” Gojo chooses to ignore you, refusing to acknowledge the implication of your words.
“I told him I could go back by myself.”
“Some guy.”
“Satoru.” You pause, lifting a hand to stop him, “Why are you here?”
A car drives past the pair of you, it’s headlights cast shadows across his perfect face and your hold yourself back from staring.
He stalls, looking at you for a moment. “C’mere, I’ll walk you home.”
“Satoru.”
You’re tired of his deflections, for once you just want to talk.
You both stare at each-other, silence decorating the air between you.
And Gojo shakes his head, stepping backwards and looking away.
“You look good.” He mutters.
“Good?”
“Pretty alright? You look pretty, he was right.”
“My date?”
Gojo’s sunglasses fall down the bridge of his nose slightly as he leans down to look at you.
“Who else?” He muses.
You don’t understand, your heart fluttering pathetically in your chest as you prove further.
“Why are you telling me this now?” You ask, your voice light, scarce of hope.
“Because.” Gojo hesitates, hating how unsure he sounds in this moment. “Because you are.”
You step towards him, it’s a slow movement and Gojo watches you almost cautiously.
“It took me going on a date with someone else for you to finally say something?” You tease, your hands shaking despite the confidence in your words.
“Would have said something without him, y’know?”
“..Really?” Your eyes widen, a tiny grin crossing your face.
Gojo nods, and you take another step and hug him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest.
And Gojo’s smile almost hurts his cheeks as he wraps his arms around your figure, pulling you in closer.
“You’re an idiot.” You mumble, looking up at him.
“But you like me.” He replies, cockily grinning down at you, blue eyes sparkling.
“Yea, I do.” You whisper, clinging to him, moving your head backdown to face his chest, face burning with your confession.
A small kiss is placed on the top of your head and you hold back a giddy laugh, pulling away from his embrace completely.
“So…Does that mean you’ll let me take you out?” Gojo questions, taking your hand and pulling you gently along to walk with him.
“Hmm I don’t know..Are you asking?” Your head leans on his arm, grabbing his arm as you walk.
“I would take you somewhere much better than that shitty cafe.”
And you’re laughing, “You love that cafe Toru.”
And he laughs with you, a long arm circling around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
And Geto, Shoko and Nanami watch from the window of the cafe, shaking their heads.
“Idiots.” Shoko says.
“Completely.” Nanami agrees.
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Masterlist <3
Feel free to leave a request !
A/N : HELLLLLOOOO PEOPLE !! ABBY’S BACK !!! thank you for the request sweets this is literally one of my favourite concepts ever I cannot cope!!!! I love teenage Gojo so much :( BUT ALSO Shoko <333333 — i hope everyone is happy and healthy, i finished this at 2am and i have school tmrw pls kill me rn i hope a car hits me when i walk in, genuinley this no longer a joke.
LOVE YOU
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intertexts-moving · 8 months
Text
in my thinking about ya lit era (rereading inkheart) & retrospectively artemis fowl is still so baller. what if fairies were real & they had a militaristic cyberpunk underground world & they fucking hated u.protags are the worlds least likable pretentious irish 12 year old autistic cunt & a dyke fairy special ops cop whos his bestfriend and also thinks hes the most annoying person on earth. and his huge also autistic chill butler whose name is butler whos job is killing people.& is his other bestfriend. half the plot revolves around him resolving his daddy issues & when he finally gets his dad back his dad is like ah jesus fucking christ. you are NOT normal please be normal! other half of the plot revolves around irish fairy special ops police station drama.
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mountainsandmayhem · 1 month
Text
Shhh...Just A Little Bit More
DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader
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18+ MDNI
Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)
Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.
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“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”
“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised. 
“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?” 
You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents. 
“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult. 
When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there. 
See, Joel. I’m responsible. 
“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump. 
“Jesus. You fucking scared me.” 
“Watch your language. Get in the truck.” 
You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head. 
“Got somethin’ to say young lady?” 
“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.” 
He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway. 
When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door. 
“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel. 
Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!” 
He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.” 
“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved. 
“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.” 
“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes. 
The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen. 
“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again. 
Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?” 
You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job. 
When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber. 
You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire. 
You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 
“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster. 
His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens. 
He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan. 
“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling. 
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly. 
Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?” 
You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.” 
His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?” 
“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too. 
He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.” 
You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt. 
The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now. 
His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!” 
“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest. 
You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?
You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again. 
“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”
Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.” 
Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good. 
His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.” 
He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.” 
He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode. 
Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up. 
“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.” 
Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.” 
Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself. 
You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.” 
You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air. 
“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice. 
You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly. 
“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh. 
You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy. 
Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth. 
Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?” 
You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now. 
His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?” 
“Mm-hmm” 
“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.” 
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Taglist:
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag  @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @mermaidgirl30
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fushigur0ll · 10 months
Text
IM SLEEPY
꒰ ♡ ꒱ — you and miles end up falling asleep on the couch and try to get back to bed which was all the way upstairs
includes: sleeping, cuddles, fluff and kisses. 1610!miles and 42! miles can be interpreted here<3 not proofread, written at 2AM
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the warmth of the afternoon sun streams through the window, casting a golden glow on the room. miles and you lay intertwined on the couch, both breathing slow and even as you guys sleep peacefully. miles' arm is draped over your waist, holding you close, while your head rests on his chest just snoring silently.
you feel a large and warm hand resting on your exposed hip, the thumb gently rubbing it in a soothing motion. you stir from your deep slumber and let out a small yawn, causing miles to awaken with a quick raise of his head from the pillow. As you stretch and wriggle in his embrace, legs shaking as your limbs loosen the tension of your muscles but you suddenly lose your balance and topple over the edge of the couch, landing with a thud on the floor.
“SHI- damn” you hiss and groan, not even bothering to get the hell up again.
your poor sleepy boyfriend jolts fully awake at the sound, his heart racing as he looks down to see his girl sprawled out on the ground. he blinks slowly as he watches you closely and bursts into laughter. you huff and rubs your eyes as he still continues to shuffle around the bed laughing like he hasn’t in years. wheezing and everything like a old man.
“not too much on me now” you grumble, clearing your throat and looking around the low litted room.
“did i make you fall off the ground?” he chuckles and looks back to you again, a drunk smile on his face and shoulder jumping from the small giggles he keeps to himself. you roll your eyes playfully and sit up with a groan, exhaling while you look at him. “now you decide to be concerned? telling ya mama” and that made his smile drop for your turn to start giggling.
he huffs and grabs ahold of your arms to pull you back to the couch, laying ontop of him. you continue to giggle but those giggles turn into laughs whe. he starts to poke and thicken around your body, you squirming all over the place ontop of him.
“OKAY! okay! okay i’m sorry! i won’t tell your mom!” you snicker and he stops, kissing your neck and cheek repeatedly with a small smile.
“better not” he mutters playfully into your ear, biting it so you’d squirm and squeal. he chuckles and cups your face to make you look at him.
“howd you sleep?” he rubs your cheekbone and you lean into his palm eyes fluttering close as the softness of his hand. “slept good” you hum and lean up to kiss him softly to which he happily reciprocates. you both separate just a tad bit as you lazily brush your lips against his own.
“wanna go upstairs?” you mumble, pecking his soft lips twice. he groans and stuffs his face into your neck.
“can we just stay here?” he whines slightly, hugging you tighter and you laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “as much as i want to, i wanna sleep on your bed..so that way i don’t fall off easily” you hear him chuckle and nod
“i’ll make sure you won’t fall again” he whispers tiredly and stays quiet for a few minutes before he sits up with you, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist and with his hand under your thigh. he slowly walks to what you think is to the stairs but you think wrong as he carrie’s you to the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on the lights and just leave the room litted with just the light that streams in through the window.
“JESU- milessss” you jump and whine as you feel yourself being placed on the island counter, the cold attacking your bare legs has your body up in a quick tense state, awaking you more from the daze of slumber you were just previously in. “sorry” he chuckles and steps in between your open legs, wrapping his arms around your waist once again then resting his head into your chest, humming softly.
you smile down at him, wrapping your around around his head and neck, swinging your legs softly back and forth. you rest your head on his own, staring out the window that shows the city from the high floor you live on in the apartment. you close your eyes, breathing in and taking in his natural scent. you smile softly to yourself, as you find yourself doing what he does to you which is just smelling you as much as weird as that sounds it’s just kinda cute.
to both of your dismay, he slowly leans away from you and picks you back up again. your arms and legs trapped around him tight when he brings you around the island counter to the fridge. he opens the door and squints his eyes at the warm toned light, blinking a few times for his eyes to get used to it. he looks and sees a cup of water, picking it up and remembering that he put it there on purpose to drink later when the water would turn nicely cool and since it was, he closes the fridge door and pats your back.
“drink some” he mumbles softly and puts the cup to your mouth. you sit up and drink from the cup, eyes closing as a cool breeze just swept through your body making you feel refreshed. you leave some for your man and you dig your body back into his own, hearing him drink whatever is left. he finishes and puts the cup down, before holding you tight and walking out the kicthen to the last destination
"bed time?" you ask softly, your voice a mere whisper in the peaceful silence of the room. Your boyfriend responds with a gentle hum and a nod, patting your bum affectionately as you snuggle closer to him, feeling your eyelids growing heavy with sleep.
You both make your way to your room, the soft patter of his feet on the carpeted floor the only sound in the otherwise silent house. Your boyfriend closes the door behind him once he enters. he gets to the bed and he lays down first, getting the covers and pulling them halfly on you both, his body radiating warmth and comfort. You snuggle under the covers with him, feeling his arms wrap around you protectively and his breath tickling your neck.
you exhale in satisfaction, relishing the warmth of your handsome boyfriend's embrace, and feeling your heart swell with love. All you want is to stay here with him, to bask in the afterglow of your passion and enjoy each other's company. with your eyes closed, you trail kisses from his chest to his neck, then up to his cheek, and finally to his lips. He responds lazily, kissing you back with tender affection, and placing a hand on your back to draw you closer.
as you both separate, you gaze into each other's eyes with a soft, contented smile. your boyfriend leans forward, his forehead gently knocking against yours, and he gives you a playful peck on the nose. You feel his warmth seeping into your skin, and you snuggle closer to him, savoring the sensation of his body pressed against yours.
Momentarily lost in your own thoughts, you become aware of his lips brushing against your clavicle, and you let out a soft sigh of pleasure. You stroke his hair , feeling the coils of his fro slipping through your fingers, and you revel in the sweet, intoxicating scent of his skin.
"You're so beautiful, baby," he whispers, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. You feel a warm flush spread throughout your body, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your chest. you smile and kiss his forehead softly, feeling the softness of his skin under your lips. " ‘n you're perfectly gorgeous," you throw back, your voice filled with love and adoration. He shakes his head with a low hum that vibrates through your body.
“not as gorgeous as you”
“..corny miles”
and you both giggle uncontrollably.
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fushigur0ll © 2022 all rights reserved.
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wileys-russo · 3 months
Note
“i was sleeping” “yeah well now your not” leah williamson
4am wake up II l.williamson
"then there was a magician! babe you know i fucking love magicians." leah slurred as you hummed. "was he as good as the one at your birthday baby?" you questioned hearing a gasp.
"oh i forgot about him! fuck i told this guy he was the best and that was a lie!" leah groaned with a whine and you heard a bump and a mumbled apology.
"tripped over someones stupid table. who the fuck put that in the way!" leah huffed with a small hiccup on the other end of the line.
"how rude of them. hey lee? can you take a break from the rum and drink some water for me baby?" you smiled as your girlfriend let out a deep sigh.
"yeah i guess. but only for you baby girl cause you're the best and i love ya!" leah slurred, grunting as she sat down in a booth. "i love you too sweets. are you back with alex and jess again?" you questioned as leah hummed.
"can i speak with al please?" you asked as leah whined. "why! you're my girlfriend and you're not here. alex has her girlfriend with her she doesn't need mine!" leah scoffed making you chuckle, the blonde out at an event which you had to miss due to a clashing family commitment.
family just as important to leah as it was to you she'd completely understood and encouraged you go, even offering to skip the event herself but you'd never let that happen considering she was set to present.
though it was obvious you both had very different nights.
it was your grandma's 90th birthday so you'd had a couple glasses of wine and everything was nicely wrapped up by about ten in the evening, meanwhile it was now midnight and it seemed leah was just getting started at the after party.
much as she'd begged you to come and join her you were far too comfy wrapped up in bed to bother, so leah had settled for a phone call to 'wish you goodnight' which nearly a half an hour later she was still yet to actually say goodnight.
"oh shut up and give her here leah you idiot!" you heard the blondes best friend scoff and there seemed to be a tussle of sorts before the line cleared. "hi sexy. we miss you!" you heard alex greet, your girlfriend gasping in offence and sternly ordering her to never call you that ever again.
"hi scotty. can you get her a water please? if she doesn't have a couple inbetween drinks she'll wake up tomorrow an absolute nightmare to deal with." you chuckled, your girlfriends hangovers something else let alone when she was dehydrated on top of it.
"on it babe. jess isn't drinking so she'll drive her home, wouldn't dare put her in a taxi at this rate." alex chuckled as you heard leah start to sing along to something in the background. "bub we're gonna go dance. i love you!" leah snatched the phone back and blew you a kiss before the line cut off and you sighed in amusement.
you were sure alex would have fun dealing with that.
~
"babyy girll!" your eyes fluttered open at the sudden sound, wincing at the sharp pain which shot through your neck at the awkward position you'd fallen asleep in, phone tucked beside your head where you'd been watching tiktoks before you had.
you heard a loud thud and suddenly the room lit up as you nearly hissed, shielding your eyes as leah flicked the lights on and fell through the door frame stumbling forward and catching herself on the edge of the bed.
"leah?" you rasped out unsure if you were still dreaming or not as the blondes head popped up at the end of the bed where she'd fallen down to the floor.
"thats my name!" she slurred and pulled herself up onto the mattress with a grunt as you rubbed your eyes tiredly and pulled yourself into a sitting position. "you didn't wait up for me." your girlfriend frowned somewhat adorably.
"i was sleeping." you smiled with a shake of your head. "yeah? well now you're not!" the blonde slurred with a grin crawling toward you.
"oh jesus." you mumbled at the state of your drunken lover, unable to hold back the amused smile at her scruffy state.
"my names leah but you can call me jesus if ya want babe. but i know you prefer oh god! oh god! oh god!" your eyes widened and you lurched forward to cover her mouth now much more awake as your girlfriend started to mock your moans.
"oh i missed you." you were all but tackled back down to the bed by the taller girl, grimacing at the strong smell of alcohol on her breath as she tried to kiss you but missed as her lips instead kissed the pillow beside you.
"i missed you too lee. but time for bed i think!" you smiled, tapping your phone which glared back 3:56am. "i have a favour first." leah smiled charmingly as best as she could, pushing herself up and off of you allowing you to sit up again.
"mmm?" you hummed with a raised eyebrow, slipping out of bed and making your way round to help her get her shoes off where she was struggling with them. "make me some food? please bubba?" the blonde pouted, the term of endearment one that only left her lips when she was absolutely smashed.
"lee, darling its nearly four in the morning. sleep now and i'll make you the best breakfast in bed ever later!" you promised, pushing her hands away and helping her wiggle out of her suit pants next causing her to let out a sigh of relief.
"do you come on the menu?" the defender smirked, eyes starting to droop as you shook your head. "so i see we've had some tequila shots then yeah?" you laughed, the particular alcohol forever making the girl ridiculously horny much to her ongoing frustration that you refused to engage in anything when she was drunk.
"maybe a few. but i had some water! just for you." she pointed to you and attempted a wink which just wound up being an over dramatic blink. "did you now? how responsible you are." you teased, moving away to grab her some comfier clothes to sleep in.
"i am the responsible one in the relationship duh. i'm older and wiser!" leah sighed as you grabbed her hands and tugged her to sit up, struggling to unbutton her shirt as she smacked your hands away.
"i can do it! strip for you any day sexy." she wiggled her eyebrows and flopped back into bed, and sure enough though it took her a few minutes she managed to get the shirt off as you helped her up and into a large baggy t-shirt.
"do you want me to take your makeup off baby?" you asked softly, chuckling as her energy levels seemed to be dropping and she nodded wordlessly and laid back down as you darted into the bathroom.
"you're so pretty. my pretty girl!" leah sighed out, hands resting on your legs as you hovered over her gently wiping away her makeup with the micellar wipes. "you're very pretty too, even a drunken mess." you quickly pecked her lips as you finished and moved off of her.
ignoring the whines for you to come back you hurried into the kitchen grabbing some advil and a bottle of water for the blonde in the morning, checking the door was locked and chuckling at the wake of destruction she'd left in her path toward the bedroom.
"that's a tomorrow problem." you mumbled with a smile at the multitude of knocked over and dropped items all over the ground, only picking up your girlfriends suit jacket and draping it over a chair.
"baby!" leah yelled out with a whine as you quickly returned. "i'm right here." you promised, helping her get into bed properly and gently swatting away her hands which grabbed and poked at you demanding you give her attention.
flicking the lights back off you blinked a few times to adjust, not that you needed to with how your girlfriend was kicking off, easily able to follow her voice back to bed.
"where the fuck-oh hi bubba!" she grinned in the darkness finally feeling the bed dip as you moved in beside her, latching onto you. "cuddles please, love you." leah slurred quietly, patting your thigh affectionately as you shuffled down the bed, her head moving to rest right above your heart with a tired sigh.
"goodnight leah." you chuckled, tangling your hands in her hair and messing about with it like you knew she loved. you heard her mumble something back but had no idea what it was as you smiled pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.
the only woman you'd let wake you up at four in the morning for a cuddle.
813 notes · View notes
iliaclwrites · 2 years
Text
everybody’s talkin’ up a storm (act like they don’t notice)
summary: The one where the boys don’t know that Eddie Munson is dating the pretty assistant librarian that always helps them out. Dustin has a crush on her. Mike thinks it’s fake. Erica just wants to get home to watch Thundercats. 
“Uh, Eddie?” Lucas started, voice small. “Do you have someone over?” 
Eddie blinked. “Uh. Just my girlfriend,” he said flippantly, tossing himself onto the sofa and taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “Keep it down for a while, would ya? She had a long night.” 
There was silence. 
“Your what?”
warnings: none! wholesome fluff here lmao. a lot of d&d references -- curse of strahd is a banger
“You kids okay?” you asked, setting down the collection of Tolkien books they’d recalled from the front desk. “Fresh out of the returns bin, I thought I’d better bring them over here before I reshelved.” 
“Thanks,” Lucas breathed, grabbing the top one from the pile and hauling it open. He’d always liked you. You’d started as assistant librarian two years ago, and had always had a soft spot for them, wheeling them straight to the fantasy section when they’d stumbled in as wide-eyed kids on their first day. 
“Now, what’s all this about?” you asked, leaning over to read Dustin’s notes. “Book report? I didn’t think Fellowship was on the syllabus.” You pressed one manicured nail to the paper. “You’ve spelled Lothlorien wrong, honey.” 
“You’ve read The Lord of the Rings?” Dustin demanded, his hair flouncing as he peered up at you from his book cavern. “Really? What’s your favourite book? Favourite character?” 
You laughed. “The Two Towers, and Faramir,” you said, and chewed on the edge of your thumb. “Pippin is a close second, though. Are you guys just in a book club?” Your eyes lit up as you took a seat next to them, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Can I join?” 
“It’s not a book club,” Mike said, and chewed his mouth a moment, obviously debating admitting something. “We’re doing research for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign.” 
You stared at them. “You’re in Hellfire?” you asked, and then pulled their notes over to you, nodding at the numbers you saw. “Ah. That makes sense then. Yikes. Five charisma, Lucas, really?” 
Lucas yanked his notes back as Dustin’s mouth fell open a little bit more. If that were possible. “You play D&D?” he asked, voice going shrill. 
“Dustin, honey, this is a library,” you said, pressing your index finger to your mouth. 
“I’m sorry,” he said sarcastically, and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You play D&D? You know about Hellfire?” 
You snorted, and twisted in the seat, looking very unlike the prim and proper librarian you had been moments ago. The way you were lounging sparked something in Lucas’ brain, something familiar, but he pushed it down. “Do I know about Hellfire,” you muttered, shaking your head. “My brother was the first DM.” 
That caused an absolute uproar. Their pencils flew about the room, papers shoving, and you tried to no avail to calm them down. You could feel the gaze of Mrs. Leibniz, head librarian, burning into the back of your skull. 
“Boys, boys,” you said, waving your hands. “Okay, Jesus Chr– yikes,” you corrected lamely. “One at a time, one at a time.” 
“What did you play?” Mike asked. 
“Do you still play?” That was Lucas.
“Do you want to come to Hellfire?” Dustin, sweetly, hopefully. 
You smiled at them, twirling a pencil as you cast your mind back. “God, back in the day? I think my character in my Hellfire days, before I was a DM, was an Elven rogue,” you said, nodding as it came back to you. “Tinuviel, of the Woodland Realm. She was such a knockoff Eowyn it’s kind of a wonder Tolkien never sued. I do still play, a little, when my brother has the time to do a oneshot. I can’t come to Hellfire, it clashes with my shifts. Satisfied?” 
The boys nodded, and you smiled at them firmly, glancing down at a sheet of paper. There was a beat of silence, and then – 
“Wait, sorry, did you say you DM?” Mike said, twisting in his seat to look at you. 
You shrugged. “We had a rotating DM base back then,” you said, scratching the back of your head. Again, the motion pinged something in Lucas’ skull, but he wasn’t sure what. “Once my brother left, I shared the year with Eddie Munson – you guys must know Eddie, right?” 
They nodded. You leaned forward conspiratorially. 
“I made him cry when he faced down Strahd.” 
“No way,” Lucas said, rocking back in his chair. Your hand shot out, slamming it back onto four feet before he would tumble. “Shit, I mean, dang. Sorry. But you made him cry?” 
You grinned, remembering it fondly. “Yeah,” you said, and Mike saw your librarian persona totally slip away in exchange for a totally feral smile. “He didn’t speak to me for a weak after he died. God. Good times.” 
“You’re crazy,” Dustin said, pointing a pencil at you, “and you’re everything we need.” 
You blinked. “Huh?” 
“It’s simple,” he said, pointing at the paper. “You can help us outwit Eddie. Run circles around him. You’ve almost definitely played Rahasia before. He won’t know what hit him!” 
You wrinkled your nose. “Dustin, honey, doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of D&D?” you asked, and he shrugged. “You’re better off without me, kids. Just–” You stopped, looking up at them from under your eyelashes. “Does Eddie still do that thing when he DMs, where he, like,” you chewed your bottom lip, “starts singing?” 
“I hate the singing,” Mike groaned, and Lucas nodded in agreement. “He writes all these songs! And then he sings them! Sometimes with guitar!” 
“It’s great for worldbuilding,” Lucas said quickly, “but. It does go on for a bit.” 
You bit back a smile. “Some things never change.” 
Dustin shot you a quick grin. “We’re actually going to Hellfire after school today,” he said, “if you want to come with us? Break out that old Elf rogue.” 
You shook your head. “I’m a Halfling now,” you said, quirking up a smile. “Rindi, of the Shire. Master thief. Besides, it’d clash with my shifts. And then where would I be? You don’t think you guys are my only kids, do you?” 
With that, you stood up, leaning over to whisper, “If you’re playing Rahasia, make sure you’ve got a bone dagger on you,” before moving back to the reshelving trolley. “Good luck, boys! Tell Eddie I say hi!” 
++
“Hey Eddie,” Dustin chirped as he headed into Hellfire. “We bumped into an old friend of yours at lunch.” 
He quirked an eyebrow, munching on a sandwich from his backpack. “Uh-huh?” Eddie said, not really listening to him. “And?” 
Dustin shrugged, and looked at Eddie slyly. “Tinuviel says hi.” 
Eddie blinked, and swung his leg down from where he was sprawled across the chair. “You met my girl!” he crowed, throwing the sandwich down onto the table, sending bits of lettuce careening across the minifigures. “She’s a spitfire, that one.” 
“She’s the assistant librarian,” Mike supplied helpfully, and Eddie shot him a weird look. 
“I know,” he responded, furrowing his brows. “We’re literally on the same campus, like, all the time.” 
Mike flushed. That much was obvious. 
“Anyway, enough chitty-chatty,” Eddie said, and leant over the gameboard. “You last left Rahasia in the dark of the night, exhausted and weary from a skirmish…” 
++
“Hi,” Dustin said to you, meekly. You peered over at him from the books you were checking back in, locked up in a cavernous stack of AP Calculus texts and editions of Hamlet. “This is. This is kind of a weird question. You don’t have to say yes.” 
You shoved some of the books out of the way to look at him, and pressed your glasses up your nose. “Hey, everything okay?” you asked, gesturing for him to take a seat. “Take deep breaths, Dustin.” 
He shook his hair out. “Well,” he said, taking his hat off and holding it in front of him like a Regency era gentleman. “It’s my birthday next Saturday–” 
“Happy birthday,” you said automatically, and he shot you a nervous smile. 
“I was wondering. Well, we were wondering. Mike, Lucas, and me,” he clarified, “if you’d like to come over and play a oneshot campaign with us? I’m DMing for my birthday, and it’s my first time, and I’m kind of nervous. It’d be really cool to have more people in the party.” 
You winced. “Dustin, honey,” you said, and pulled another returned copy of Hamlet toward you. “That’s not really appropriate. I’m a teacher here.” 
He rolled his eyes. “You’re an assistant librarian,” he countered. “Plus, you know what you’re doing! It’ll be fun!” 
You scratched the side of your nose, glancing down and away from him. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. It’s against policy, I can’t just show up. I could get into a lot of trouble.” You shot him a smile, unhappy with how crushed he seemed to be. “Look, look, tell you what,” you said, pressing your thumb to your mouth and chewing at the nail as you scrawled out your shift timings. “If you meet me in the library on the days you don’t have Hellfire, I’ll help you with your oneshot, okay?” 
He brightened. “I get to hang out with you?” 
You blinked stupidly. “Uh. Yeah, I guess,” you offered, and shoved the paper toward him. “I’m kind of rusty, but I’ll see what I can do. How many are in the party?” 
“The usual Hellfire guys,” he said, “so four. Oh, and Lucas’ sister. So five,” Dustin said, and you nodded, wheels in your brain turning as you tried to think of a good campaign for them that’d be finished in time. “You’d really help me with this?” 
You grinned, and nudged his elbow with your pen. “Once in Hellfire, always in Hellfire, kiddo,” you said, and he shoved his bookbag down on the table. “Hey!” 
“You’re free now,” he said, pointing at the sheet, and started pulling reams of paper from his bag. “I was thinking, like, a desert campaign. You know. Caravans and camels, that sort of thing.” 
You bit back a fond smile, and watched as he laid out the bare bones of his first ever Dungeon Master session. 
“There you are,” said a voice, after nearly half an hour of you helping Dustin build the stats of his Lizardfolk NPC, and you grinned at the sight of Eddie Munson standing near the desk. “Dude, we thought you died. You’re gonna miss lunch. Heya, teech,” he added, winking at you. 
You smiled up at him beatifically, and pushed Dustin’s papers back toward him. “Hey, honey,” you said to Eddie, and glanced back at your desk. “You’re gonna do great, Dustin. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re a natural.” 
“Can I come back?” Dustin said quickly, and Eddie glanced down at him in surprise. “Like. To work on the campaign. With you. Here. Or other places. So it’s perfect. You know.” He smiled again, and you sighed, rubbing your temples. 
“Of course you can, Dustin,” you said, and looked up at Eddie above Dustin’s head. “He wants me to help build out his birthday campaign.” 
Eddie grinned, and clapped his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. “And you’re enlisting my girl Tinuviel?” he asked, and Dustin smiled nervously up at him. “There have never been safer hands, my friend. This will be a campaign to remember.” 
With one hand on Dustin’s head, Eddie wheeled him out of the room, before turning around surreptitiously to blow a kiss at you. You jumped up from the desk slightly to catch it, nuzzling it softly, before biting down viciously at the fake kiss. Eddie gasped in horror, and shielded his eyes, parting his hands slightly to shoot you a wink before he vanished out the door. 
It was a few days of this, of Dustin appearing in the library at lunch with an apple for you in one hand and a binder in the other, as the deadline of his birthday loomed. You helped him take detailed note of his characters – who did what voices, where did people stay, what was a catchphrase you could use to slip into character. He was sweet. You understood why Eddie was so fond of him. 
“You’re gonna do great,” you told Dustin on the Friday, as he was packing his things up. “Seriously. I wasn’t this prepared for my first campaign. Just remember to keep your character sheets–” 
“Right where I can find them,” Dustin agreed, zipping up his backpack. “Thank you. I’m really sorry you can’t come.” 
You shrugged. “Policy is policy,” you said, and ruffled his hair. “Knock ‘em dead, champ.” 
++
“What do you mean we can’t use the room?” Dustin demanded, staring up at the custodian. “I booked it today! I need it!” 
The custodian shrugged, grimacing as he turned back to the door. “Pipe’s faulty in there,” he said, scratching under his chin. “We need to seal the area. Should be fine in the morning.” He paused. “You got stuff in there? We can get it out before it gets too wet.” 
Dustin groaned. “Party’s off,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest. “Unless you want to play an underwater level.” 
Mike sighed. The rest of Hellfire were gathered around the door, looking at it despondently. After a long moment of silence, Eddie turned to them, looking more serious than he ever had before. 
“Okay,” he said. “We can use my trailer–” They chorused a cheer, but he held up a hand. “Best behaviour, okay? We spent all week cleaning that thing up, and I can actually see my reflection in the countertops now, so if any of you fuck my hard work up I’ll rip your tiny little balls off.” He paused, and looked at Erica. “Or, uh. Lady balls.” 
“Freak,” said Erica. 
They piled into Eddie’s van, Dustin calling shotgun, as they careened down the road to Eddie’s trailer park. The windows were open to the trailer, and laundry was hung on the line, Eddie snatching a shirt from it as they walked in. Lucas stared at the pairs of bras dangling from the line. Hold the fucking phone. 
“Yeesh, yeesh, keep it down,” Eddie said, settling the kids down at his trestle table. “God, I never should’ve let you guys drink all that Coke. Sugar is bad for you, you know?” 
“You’re smoking,” Erica said bluntly, and Eddie nodded sagely. 
“That’s because I’m grown,” he told her. “I can do what I like.” 
Inside the trailer, Lucas froze. There was a pair of shoes by the door, heeled, small. He blinked. He knew those shoes from somewhere. “Uh, Eddie?” he started, voice small. “Do you have someone over?” 
Eddie blinked. “Uh. Just my girlfriend,” he said flippantly, tossing himself onto the sofa and taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “Keep it down for a while, would ya? She had a long night.” 
There was silence. 
“Your what?” Mike practically yelled, Dustin and Lucas joining. “Since when have you had a girlfriend? Why have you never brought her to Hellfire? What the hell–” 
“What the hell is going on?” 
Their heads snapped up to see you, standing blearily in Eddie’s doorway and rubbing at one eye with the cuff of Eddie’s shirt, hanging loose over your frame. Dustin screamed. You flinched, before pulling your hand from your face to stare at the group. “Uh.” 
There was a long pause. 
“You’re not wearing pants,” Erica said, helpfully, and you vanished back into the room with a squeak, before reappearing in a pair of shorts. 
“Eddie,” you hissed, and your boyfriend looked at you askance. “Why in the goddamn – cover your ears,” you barked at the kids, “everloving fuck are the kids in the house?” 
“That’s not the important question,” Dustin hissed. “What are you doing in Eddie’s trailer?” 
Eddie froze, his head darting between the two of you like a lost puppy. “Dude,” Eddie said, looking at Dustin in confusion. “She lives here.” 
“She’s your girlfriend?!” Mike demanded, staring at you in shock. You blinked the sleep blearily from your eyes, and head over to the counter, pouring instant coffee into a mug while shooting daggers at Eddie – he was mouthing, sorry sorry sorry. “The assistant librarian?” 
“Uh. Yeah?” Eddie said, his eyes jumping from each of the kids’ expressions. “You guys didn’t know?” 
“No, we did not know!” Dustin snapped, and you swallowed a tentative sip of coffee, coming out from the kitchen to stand by Eddie. “You never mentioned having a girlfriend!” 
“I’m pretty sure I did,” Eddie said, turning around to look at you. You were unimpressed. “I’m literally always saying, I gotta go see my girl, or hey that’s my girl.” 
“Oh,” Lucas said dumbly. “I thought that was about your guitar.” 
You snorted so hard you felt the coffee shoot up your nose. Dustin looked crushed. 
“My gui– You guys seriously think that looking like this, I hadn’t snatched up the prettiest girl in Hawkins High in my time?” Eddie demanded, tugging you by the beltloop of your shorts to come closer to him. “Guys. Come on. I was beating them off with a stick.” 
Your hand settled in Eddie’s hair, sleep still making you hazy. “You asked me out fifteen times, Munson,” you muttered, and he swatted at your scratching fingers. “One time you even wrote me a song.” 
“Shut up,” Eddie hissed. 
“But– we never see you guys together,” Dustin said, voice going slightly shrill at the end. He was alternating between staring at you, and then at Eddie, and then at you, over and over that you thought he’d get motion sickness. 
“I’m a librarian,” you said, not unkindly, coming to perch on the arm of the sofa as Eddie’s hand settling lazily across your thighs. “I can’t exactly come sit at the lunch table, Dustin.” 
“That checks out,” Lucas muttered to Mike, who was still taking in the scene. “Like. Damn. Uh. Congrats, I guess?” 
“Thank you,” Eddie said, sending you a genuinely happy smile before squeezing your thigh. “Sorry for the wakeup, Tinuviel. Hellfire flooded.” 
You hissed sympathetically. “Yikes.” 
“I’m sorry, this is great and all,” Erica said, and put her hands on her hips. “But are we ever gonna play this campaign? Because there’s an episode of Thundercats tonight, and I never miss Thundercats.” 
You bite back a laugh, and disentangle yourself from Eddie. “You guys set up. I’ll –” You glanced back at the kitchen thoughtfully. “Dustin, sweetie, do you like cake?” 
“Um.” Dustin blinked a few times. “Yeah?” 
“Then happy birthday. I’ll bake you one.” You smiled sweetly as you headed into the kitchen portion of the trailer, sipping your coffee thoughtfully as you heard the boys start to interrogate Eddie about the relationship. “Oh, and Dustin?” 
His head snapped up, sheepishly pulling away from where he was furtively whispering with your boyfriend. “Yes?” 
You winked. “Save me a seat. Tinuviel’s coming out of the woodwork.” 
++
(You and Eddie had met in middleschool, with his hair buzzed short and yours long enough to reach the small of your back. There was a copy of the Lord of the Rings that was two weeks overdue, after a lot of begging and pleading with Mrs Leibniz (Miss Franks, back then), she had finally released the culprit’s name to you. 
You shoved Eddie in the playground and demanded he return the book, standing on top of the sandpit in a blaze of righteous fury. 
Eddie asked you to be his girlfriend there and then. 
It took three years, ten campaigns, and one drunken proposal after prom night for you to finally say yes.) 
10K notes · View notes
halcyone-of-the-sea · 5 months
Text
How To Adapt To Fire (I)
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AU MASTERLIST || PART II
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PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader
WORDCOUNT: 4.4k
WARNINGS: Fire(s), intended harm, mentions of death, murder, crime, corruption, arsonist mystery plot, pining, protective!Johnny, flirting, intense banter, etc.
A/N: This is based off of US Firemen just because that's what I'm most familiar with!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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There was an arsonist in the city, and you were going to catch them.
Getting out of your car, you slap the door closed behind you and rush out, heels clicking over the concrete as the roaring flames continue violently—orange and red going high into the air, all centered around an abandoned warehouse building. Through the darkness of night, everything was lit up like hell.
Your satchel hits against your thigh one fast step at a time, arms pumping as your eyes find the flashing lights beyond the glare, squinting. 
“MacTavish!” You shout, jogging to the line of yellow tape and slipping under it through a small crowd of locals who call to you sharply. Voices going in one ear and out the other, you only search for that familiar helmeted head and the Scottish accent that accompanies it.
“What is she doing?”
“How come she gets to go closer!?”
“Stop that woman!” 
Your white blouse does little to push back the gusts of molten heat on the roaring airwaves, and neither do your dress pants. You push on with stubborn righteousness, even as the mulling firefighters groan under their breaths when they catch sight of you, all pausing in their various duties and panic of grabbing the hoses and getting the water going. 
The iconic red trucks sit stationary, but the man beside one of the three vehicles has his head nearly snapped off when he darts it over to you in a fast instant. 
“MacTavish!” You call out again, locking onto wide blue eyes that blink rapidly at your appearance. 
An under-the-breath curse is leveled out, heard in between shouts and the spray of water, droplets hitting your hard face.
“Steamin’ bloody Jesus. Not again.” Heavy boots jog over, tan and yellow uniform loose beside the places where the straps of his gear attach various items and tools to his body. “What in the hell are you doin’ here, Pencils?” 
“My job,” you call stiffly, your finger going out to tap at the small plastic card attached to your blouse. 
‘PRESS PASS’
“So be a good informant and tell me how much damage this is going to cause,” your hand is already inside of your satchel, flicking on a hand-held recorder, as your eyes scan about. “The fire was bigger here,” you begin without wasting any time, and the firefighter in front of you sighs in exasperation, clenching his jaw. “Was it because this place was abandoned unlike the last four scenes, or because there was a different accelerant used.” 
“I’ve told you, Hen,” MacTavish’s hand moves out in appeasement gestures, glancing at the fire and the rest of the teams that rush to get the rest of the hoses going. “Ya can’t be here when the fucking fire is still ongoing. Do you want to get burnt to a damn crisp?”
“I need answers,” you level, gaze darting back to stare into cerulean blues.
John MacTavish, who everyone just calls Johnny or Soap, for some reason, had been a familiar face to you for upwards of two months. In that time, there had been an alarming amount of suspected arson cases—twelve, counting this one. There was an unprecedented spark-up, most taking place in older neighborhoods and abandoned buildings barring the previous four, of which two people had been seriously injured, and three had died. 
But now, it was back to out-of-the-way properties, and you wanted to know why. You needed to. 
Such an escalation just to suddenly drop back down to no casualties? It didn’t make sense. If it wasn’t for your career as a journalist, then it was for your morbid curiosity of which Johnny was intently familiar with.
 The Scot clenches his jaw, dark eyebrows under his helmet stuck into a line. Around him, the others were getting the blaze under control the best they could—there was no need to go inside to search for anyone and all that had to be done was keep the fire from spreading. So, he had no trouble trying to get you to see sense yet again.
“Do you ever give it a rest,” he asks gruffly, accent thick. “Christ, I’ll be gray before you learn to stop sticking your hands where they don’t belong.” 
“You’re not my mother, MacTavish,” you speak, lowering the recorder. “Do you have anything for me?”
Johnny moves up a hand and runs it over his face, groaning. A smirk flickers to your lips. 
“You’re worse than a fly,” he breathes, unimpressed eyes opening to stick to you. “I can’t say much right now, most of it is left for forensics. Just from the blaze alone,” he glances over, taking it in. “I’d make a guess that an accelerant was used. Especially with how fast it popped up and the intensity of it. I’d have to get the dogs down here for a sniff, but it’s likely.”
“Do you think it’s—”
“Connected?” Johnny interrupts, lips twitching at the annotated gimmer in your eye. “Aye. This was man-made. There was nothing here that could start a blaze like this.” 
You click the recorder’s button and move back with a sigh. 
“Lovely.” 
The Scot raises a slow brow, looking you up and down, confused. “That’s it?”
“It’s all you can give me right now,” you mutter, sliding a look at him as your eyes squint at the rabid flames. Pieces of screeching metal fall into a heap, a loud boom of spreading smoke and lifeless coughing of material in the air. 
“Fucking hell,” you murmur to yourself. “This had to be one of the biggest ones so far.”
It was getting held back from the surrounding buildings—slowly but surely in the morning, the entire place would be a smoldering pile of ash and metal, only more questions left behind. 
Johnny sets his hands on the collar of his gear, sighing. “Won’t be the deadliest, though, will it? I’m just glad there won’t be bodies to drag out.”
You send a side-eye his way, feet shuffling. “That, I can agree with. But the pattern doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“Well, sorry, Hen, but you’ll catch me a bit more concerned about the potential next targets than the pattern.” He grunts, rolling his shoulders. “We need to catch this prick. Soon. Resources are stretched thin.”
“It’s like the guy completely switched his M.O.,” you ignore him, eyes narrowing. “Abandoned buildings, then to taking people's lives, then right back to where he started? That doesn’t happen overnight.”
Johnny grunts. “‘Cept here.”  
You sigh, tapping your fingers against your bag. The man at your side looks over, shrugging as he takes in the firmness of your expression—the same that he usually wears to any scene he gets called to. Determination. 
“I’ll get the report to you soon as I get it,” Johnny breathes, tilting his head. “Figured with all of your connections, you’ll have a better chance at piecing it all together.” 
“Thank you,” you nod. The man hums. 
“Now, get the hell out of here, yeah? Makin’ me nervous. Tape’s there for a reason Dearie.”
Scoffing, you toss up a hand and shake your head. “I live to make people nervous, MacTavish. You don’t help bust criminals and not make people nervous.” 
You begin backing back up, studying the land one more time. Johnny’s lips are thin, and he shifts his legs to stare after you. 
“Just be careful,” he calls, fingers tightening at his collar, strong jaw moving as he fixes it. His heart stutters in its course. “Don’t stick your neck where it doesn’t belong, Hen.”
You wave a hand, and then you’re off again, disappearing into the crowd with flames rising high behind you. 
The fireman watches tightly, licking his lips before shouting, “I’m serious!”
Your list of enemies was seemingly endless. 
Drug busts, criminal enterprises, hitmen—there was no shortage of stories you’d broken and your name being printed into the papers; you weren’t at all unknown to the city or the various police or fire stations. Many described you as a public nuisance, but…you were viewed with a modicum of respect as well—even if it was kept under breath. 
Yet, where there was respect, there was also the less savory emotion of contempt from the related individuals of those whom you’d landed into the eyes of the law and behind bars.
Perhaps you’d taken this arsonist for a disorganized fool…but you were about to get a very violent reality shift. 
“This is the report?” You ask, Johnny sipping from his coffee cup as you both sit in the park three days later, the bench stiff as your fingers play over the manila folder you’d been passed. 
“The public one.” Soap huffs when you slide him a look, his finger pointing at you as he holds his drink. “What? Pencils, I don’t care who you think you are, I’m not about to risk my career for something I can just tell you first-hand.”
You sigh, muttering before your hand pushes open the papers. “Go on, then.” 
Johnny smugly smirks, chuckling as his free hand goes up to fix the backward ballcap on his head. Under the tight hold of his athletic shirt, gray sweatpants sharply contract your put-together and professional appearance—like night and day. He still smells of smoke and metal. 
“You’re bein’ more snappy than usual. Publisher still on your arse, Bonnie?”
“Telling me I need to drop this goose chase,” you grumble, scoffing, eyes skimming down the printed words ahead of you. “As if.”
“Ah, he’ll come round,” Johnny’s lips flicker, flesh crinkling under that stubble of his. An overgrown mohawk leaks from the sides of his hat. “C’mon, tell me what ya need. I’ve got it all up here,” he goes to tap his head, taking another gulp of his coffee. 
The morning air is cold all around you, and people pass pushing strollers or jogging—Saturday just beginning to spread over minds and wake those who’ve slept in. Johnny and you weren’t quite like that. 
“Our theory about the accelerant?”
“My theory,” Soap grumbles but nods. “Gasoline. Dogs found traces all over—there was a damn lot.” 
You tilt your head, glancing at him. “Fits the profile from the other cases except the ones involving casualties.” Your lips pull into a frown, Johnny’s face going more serious. “Weren’t those all started with matches to the curtains in the living rooms?”
“Aye,” Johnny tips his chin to you. “Couldn’t figure that out until—”
“Until you found the matchbox out in the lawn at one of the crime scenes, plus the busted locks on the front doors. All exactly the same.”
The fireman grunts, lips flickering as his face goes a bit red. “Know my job better than I do.” 
You pause, a small heat coming to your cheeks, eyes pausing in their search for new information. “I’m not the one who willingly goes into burning buildings, give yourself more credit.”
Johnny leans closer, chuckling. “Was that a compliment, Pencils?”
“No,” you slide out. 
He hums a sound of amusement, moving back as his form slouches into the bench. A bird darts past overhead, chirping. “Goin’ soft on me. ‘Bout time—I've been waiting.” 
You roll your eyes heavily, closing the manila folder and shifting it into your satchel. 
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You face Soap head-on, taking in the deep blue of his eyes and the tease hidden in them. “The station? Home?” Your brow raises. “Animal shelter—I heard they take in strays.”
“Ah,” Johnny flinches, hand raising to his chest as he feigns hurt. “This how you thank your favorite public servant?” 
“You’ll live,” you grumble, standing and flattening out your long black coat. “Come on. Seeing as you’re not entirely lost to me, I’m getting breakfast today.”
Johnny’s beaming grin makes your lips pull in a low smile.
“And just like that,” he chuckles, standing up so that his boots hit the ground and his hand falls into his pocket. The empty cup in his hand is tossed into the trash. “I’m a picture-perfect specimen. Not that I wasn’t already, eh?”
“Oh, fuck off,” you breathe, voice exasperated even as your smile breeds along the lines of your face. 
The both of you take off side by side, legs mirroring the others’ pace one slow movement at a time. Throughout your meetings for information, Johnny and yourself have grown close to one another—Violet’s Dinner one of the many places that was the unfortunate hub for your intel swapping. However, it was only unfortunate for the patrons, not you.
Soap gave what he knows about the fires and the ways they were started, and you gave over potential next targets based on whatever you can piece together from your police informants as well as others. 
You hum as you both walk the trail, slowly weaving away from the bench and down to the gated entrance of the park, slipping past the black iron as John holds it open for you. 
“Besides the ol’ fire-freak, then,” Johnny begins, smiling over at you as he itches at his neck, large arm reaching up and flexing. “Any other big breaks?”
Head turning his way, you speak easily. “In which article—the multi-generational money laundering bust at Warren’s Electrical or the murders near Fifth Ave? Or even the drug smuggling near the docks?” 
Blue eyes blink. “...Eh…any of ‘em?”
You snort, turning back to the sidewalk and shrugging. 
“You asked.” You slyly begin, before getting into the mental paper that you still had to type and send into editing. “Roy Laurence committed the murders near Fifth Avenue—my informant with the SWAT team says he was arrested and booked within an hour of the green light. DNA and fingerprints found at the scene of the last victim.” You raise a hand. “Now, I just have to try and get a spot in the courtroom when a trial date is released.”
“Well,” Johnny breathes, sending you a veiled look after a moment. “Don’t mean to brag, Pencils, but I got to help an old lady cross the street yesterday.”
You laugh, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as Soap chuckles. The sidewalk continues, men and women passing at their slow paces as cars zip past; the fireman taking the chivalrous stance of the person beside the street unconsciously.
“And I’m sure she was very pleased, MacTavish,” you push out, shifting closer to him as an individual passes by, bumping your arm into his. 
“Aye, she was,” the man huffs proudly, puffing his chest. “Called me a handsome bloke and kissed my cheek. Blushed a bit.”
“Playboy,” you tease, eyes narrowed over at him. “Cheating on the mutts back at the station?”
Johnny gasps, putting on a serious face. “Don’t you call Mr. Spots a mutt, Dearie—that’s too far.”
“Christ,” you breathe, and an arm settles over your shoulders, shaking you a bit and squeezing your flesh before chuckles follow. 
Trying not to sink into the feeling of heat and the promise of fire, you live in this moment of nearly something. There was the close sensation of borderline affection—just brushing the sense of care and…pining. 
You knew the Scot was interested in you, or, at the very least, knew he had some modicum of attraction to you. Hell, the way he’d flirted with you when you’d propositioned him to be your link to the fire department was nearly laughable even today. All smirks and glinting eyes.
John was funny, no one was denying it. 
There was that firm push and pull between the two of you, a string attached to your wrists that wouldn’t snap—that had seemingly only grown stronger over the months of mystery. But the arsonist took precedence. 
Play can only come after work, and you were the picture of professionalism. Or maybe just stubbornness.
“The regular?” Johnny asks, letting you go as he pushes open the front door of Violet’s with his shoulder, keeping it there as you move inside and nod. 
“Sure. Same seats?” 
The fireman smirks. “Always.” 
You smile, walking off to the corner booth as John goes up to the front, waving down the familiar face of the waitress to let her know that the both of you are here. The two exchange pleasantries as you sigh and lean back into the red-cushioned seats, letting your satchel drop near your feet. Sending a text to your editor, you tell him that you’ll have an article written up about one of your ongoing fixations by Monday.
Johnny’s broad shadow soon graces you once more, carrying a plate of fresh bread with butter on it. 
“Lady’s a fuckin’ lifesaver,” he breathes. “Gave us free bread today.”
Your eyes dart over to Tammy, the waitress, who winks at you before disappearing to help another customer. Hiding the twitch of your lips, you raise a brow at John. 
“Don’t you usually get pancakes, too? Your stomach will explode,” you huff. 
“Ah,” his face scrunches in dismissal. “There’s always room for fresh bread.”
His large fingers are already around the body of a knife, slathering gooey butter on a steaming piece of the carb, chomping down and swallowing before he speaks—reaching for another.
 “So, spill it on me.”
Your fingers reach out, grasping some bread and bringing it to your lips. You chew, swallow, and ease out, “I think there are two arsonists.” 
Johnny pauses, wide eyes stuck on you as he stops his hand from bringing up the next piece of food. He blinks, his face tightens as he wonders over the information that you have, and then the groans out a long, “Fucking hell… one who’s doing it for kicks, the other who’s settling scores.”
“Precisely,” you shrug. “It explains the complete break in character, and we have enough fires to show that not only is the way the flames started different, but for different reasons as well. One wants to kill, the other can’t control it. Impulse.” 
“Makes sense,” Johnny grumbles, amused mood for the moment dropping to one of flashing anger. He taps his knuckles slowly on the table, thinking. “You tell the police this theory?”
“Nah,” you shake your head as your legs shift along the seat. “You know how the chief gets about me—I need to do some of my own leg-work. Get more evidence.”
The Fireman is already shaking his head with a chuckle that has no ounce of tease or jest in it. “Nah ah, no fuckin’ way am I letting you get involved with two arsonists—certainly not one that kills people, Hen.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not asking permission,” you smirk as your breakfast plates are brought over. Johnny’s is full of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, and you, your regular. You thank Tammy with a nod and take a sip of your small drink. “There has to be a connection between the victims. I’ve written about them before, my notes have the answers, I’m sure. I need to focus on one at a time—”
“Bonnie—”
“A possible Revenge-Motivated Arsonist is a far bigger threat than one that only has an impulse to light fires and not harm others. I’ll leave the ladder to you—”
A hand grabs at your own, grasping it firmly. Head snapping up to the square jaw ahead of you, which is tight, the stubble moving the scar along his chin one frown line at a time, you pause your quick rant. Face steadily heating as callouses run along your flesh like un-cut granite, your heart stutters.
“You’ll do nothing without me.” Johnny’s expression leaves no room for discussion. 
Mouth slightly parted, your eyelids blink before a squeeze is leveled out on your hand, and the Fireman shifts back. Your eyes follow, stuck on how his shirt hugs his large biceps and the gentleness of how he held you—how he always held you. 
Focus.
“You’re not getting dragged into this,” you chuckle, tilting your head seriously. “It could cost you your job.”
Johnny shrugs. “Only if I’m caught. If you're half as stubborn, as I already know you to be, Pencils,” he sighs, low smile coming to his lips. “Then I know you’ll be needing my level head.” Cobalt eyes twinkle.
You stare at him, blinking. Ignoring that skip in your pulse. As hard as you would like to try, you can’t say no to that face of his—that open expectation and firm choice.
“As level as a steep decline,” your grumble meets Soap’s ears, and the man’s face twists with an ingrained amusement that breeds the closer you are to him. It was easy to bounce jokes with you—like a pair of birds, squawking and puffing feathers, only stopping at strange intervals to preen one another before the loud chatter started anew. 
“And stop it with the dumb nickname already,” you glare. “It happened once.”
John drags his plate closer, picking up a piece of bacon and taking a bite out of it. “It isn’t every day you see a bonnie Hen with seven pencils in her breast pocket, is it? Hell of a first meeting with that serious face of yours and the sight of fabric practically ripping open.”
“I was in a rush,” your face burns, jaw rotating. “At least I was prepared, MacTavish.”
“Well, who’s sayin’ I wasn’t prepared?”
“Me!” Your fingers grab at your fork, pointing it at him. “You were practically covered head-to-toe in ashes!”
Red cheeks on his part, but always that adorning sheen to his expression.
“I was just in from a damn fire!”
Breakfast went as it usually did—good food and better company—but there was a deeper level to it now; a sharp edge of purpose. By the time the both of you were done, you’d already made up your mind to make it back to your apartment and gather the intel that you had. Find a starting point.
But, as mysteries like these always go, the good times came to a rapid cliff-drop. Johnny was muttering about his work schedule back on the sidewalk when he got the call. 
Phone to ear, you’d seen his face tighten—feet going completely still as you have to halt and look back at him, confused. A breeze goes by on the air, and your nose twitches to a sharp tang that leaves your fingers twitching.
“What do you mean, ‘fire on third street?’” Your body locks up, and Johnny’s face becomes devoid of pigment, watching yours closely. It was a strange emotion on his face; a hard and hesitant thing all at once. He was staring, brows pulled in as your lungs seemingly went to concrete inside of your ribs.
Third street? Fire? 
Soap’s voice goes even lower. Spine even more straight. “...Stillview apartments?” 
You’re already running before you can understand the severity of the revelation—dashing as Johnny yells after you to stop. 
That was your apartment building.
“Dearie!” The fireman shouts, his boots pounding after, but you had a head start, shoving through the crowds, dodging strollers and trash cans—bags and thrown curses. “Fucking hell, stop!”
Your form darts fast, heart hammering. Already your mind is running through every possibility and explanation. How could this be happening? Why? Has one of the arsonists found you out? But even then, it could only be the one intent on murder—countless others lived in your building; this was more than intent…it was a massacre.
Fires don’t just spark at a time like this to not be called connected.
Even over the air, you could hear sirens above Johnny’s loud pleas to slow down, moving as well as he could through the rush of people. 
He’s still on the phone, barking questions and the will of his legs to take him in the direction of the department building. But you. The back of your head in his black-sided vision. 
The man knows that if he doesn’t catch you, you’ll run straight into that blaze not only for the principal but your evidence. Your cork boards and their red strings—your pictures and printed articles. Johnny knew you had them, he wasn’t an idiot. 
You were too smart for your own good.
He was nearly there—just a few more steps and he could grab the back of your jacket like some stray cat, pull you back until you were in his arms. A fireman, yes, but he’d never get used to the inferno that was you; you consumed him utterly. It was an instant feeling for him, and even with the initial flirting, the immediate latching of his attention held fast. A bird to a wire. Hopeless, he was. Johnny was afraid at how much you trapped him in your ways—your looks and your…you-ness.
And you were only making him more afraid at this very instant. 
Soap was the only person ever supposed to be walking into fire.
“Hen!” The fireman barks, sharp and visceral. But you only take the next corner faster, satchel slapping against your thigh. 
“No,” you pant, legs dashing. “No, no, no. I left everything I need for this case in my filing cabinet!” 
This is what you get for trying to be organized for once.
You smell the smoke before you see it, and feel the heavy hand on your coat collar not a moment after you lock on it.
“MacTavish!” Your angered voice moves out, but it’s all strangled away in a fast moment of the screaming of sirens and the visible fire from your tall apartment building strikes you. Watching blankly, your face falls as strong arms reel you back into a chest.��
“Fuck,” Johnny growls, eyes wide as he looks on, phone clenched tightly in one hand. His jaw writhes with tension, vision darting from one fire truck to another and the men available to help. People were doing a myriad of things—screaming, running, watching—but through it all, there was the presence of fear coupled with a static anticipation. 
Panting heavily, you watch your life’s work go up in flames, and feel the tight arms of your informant keep you close.
You learn that if you don’t adapt to this fire sooner or later, it’s going to consume you. And still, you can’t understand if you’re talking about Johnny, who murmurs quick words of comfort into your ear, or the case that just locked you in with chains of commitment and rage.
The real work had just begun as ashes fell like snow to the street; the spray of the firetruck’s water flew with sure aim. Your face hardens, and you feel that worried grip tighten, bringing you into a ramshackle hug.
You have an arsonist to catch, and not a single person would stop you now.
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TAGS:
@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot
1K notes · View notes
worldlxvlys · 4 months
Note
Can you pls make a fix where reader smokes with a guy friend after Chris says it’s not a good idea but the stuff she smokes is laced and the friend tries to make a couple moves but Chris steps in last minute and beats up the friend and then brings her home and takes care of her? Maybe before they are official they are still dealer and costumer
here for you
dwb! chris x reader
warnings: reader gets laced, unwanted touches, vomit, violence, blood (please please read with caution)
a/n: hope you like, also we’re just gonna name the dude jake and keep it pushin
dwb! chris masterlist
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with that, i rolled my eyes and placed my phone down. i heard it vibrate again, but ignored it, missing his response.
“i’m coming over.”
“everything ok?” jake asked, noting my annoyed expression.
“yup, let’s do this” i said, watching him pull out two pre-rolled joints. we were sat on my front porch, a good amount of distance between us.
“oh wow, got me my own and everything” i said, as he lit mine and passed it to me.
“of course, princess. anything for you” it felt wrong, hearing someone other than chris call me that. i felt like i was cheating on him, which is crazy, considering we’re not together.
i brought the joint up to my lips, inhaling and taking slow puffs of the smoke. i closed my eyes while exhaling, enjoying the feeling that washed over me.
jake did the same with his joint, and i could feel his eyes burn into the side of my head.
“you starting to feel it?” he asked. i opened my eyes and realized he was suddenly a lot closer to me than he had originally been.
this was weird. usually when i’d smoke i would feel a sense of relaxation and happiness, almost in a state of euphoria.
now? i was feeling very relaxed. too relaxed.
my body felt light and my brain was fuzzy.
“oh yeah, you’re feeling it baby” he said as he brought his hand to my face, caressing it.
“you’re so pretty baby” he whispered in my ear as he brought his hands to my waist.
“jake? what are ya doin’?” i mumbled out, i could barely keep my eyes open.
“don’t worry about it baby, just close your eyes” his hand started rubbing my thigh as he brought his face to my neck
“please stop” i whispered, wanting to push him off but not having the energy to.
i was so out of it, i didn’t hear the heavy footsteps traveling up the steps of my front porch.
“yo, she said stop” chris.
chris pulled jake off of me by the collar of his shirt. he didn’t hesitate to pull his arm back, and swing. all that was heard was the sickening crack as his fist collided with jake’s nose.
jake let out a cry as he fell to the ground.
i couldn’t even keep up with what was happening. in contrast to the instant lightness my body had when i started to smoke, my body was now heavy. it felt like i was being held down by a million weights.
chris climbed on top of jake, and landed blow after blow. he threw punch after punch leaving jake’s face bruised and bloodied.
“chris?” i called out, wanting him close to me.
this seemed to make chris snap out of his angry state, as he rushed over to me.
he took in my drowsy state, his eyes softening.
“jesus ma” he whispers as he picks me up bridal style.
“you’re ok baby, i promise. i’m gonna take care of you” he said as he gave my forehead a kiss.
he then carried me to his car, buckling me in and giving my hand a squeeze, “i’ll be right back, ma”
he walked over to jake and pulled him up by the collar, whispering something in his ear before letting go of him and coming back to the car.
once we arrived at his house, he picked me up again and carried me to the door.
he put me down briefly, to push his key in the door and open it, then proceeded to pick me up and carry me to his room.
as soon as we got to his room, he placed me on his bed.
suddenly, i began to feel nauseous.
“chris- toilet” he seemed to understand what i was trying to say, and quickly helped me to his bathroom.
as i hovered over the toilet, i threw up my stomach’s contents making my throat burn and eyes water.
he pulled my hair back, and rubbed my back soothingly.
“ok, baby. it’s ok, let it out”
once i finished, i started to fall back as chris caught me. he wrapped one arm around me, the other flushing the toilet.
“i’m sorry chris, so sorry”
“don’t apologize, ma. that’s what i’m here for. you got me, i’m not going anywhere” he said as he continued to rub my back.
“chris, i feel so disgusting” i mumbled.
“i know, baby. do you wanna take a bath?” i nodded my head.
“ok, is it alright if i help you? i don’t want anything to happen to you, ma” he asked.
“yes, chris. thank you for asking first”
“of course, ma. don’t wanna make you uncomfortable”
“ok don’t move, i’ll be right back” he said as he leaned me against the wall.
he quickly went back to his room, grabbing a towel and clean clothes for me to change into.
when he got back, he began to run the bath water and adjusted the temperature to my liking.
while the water continued to run, he helped me brushed my teeth.
once the water was done, he undressed me, and helped me into the water.
he rubbed the soap onto my skin gently, constantly checking to see if i was ok or if he was making me uncomfortable.
when he finished, he helped me dry off and put on his clean clothes.
once back in his room, he sat me down on his bed.
“do you want space or cuddles?” he asked, very careful not to cross any boundaries.
“cuddles please”
with that, he sat down next to me and opened his arms. i leaned up against him, placing my head on his chest. “thank you, chris”
i said before drifting off to sleep.
he watched me sleep, feeling my heartbeat against his own.
“i’ll always be here for you” he whispered.
———————
idk if y’all have caught onto this but i’ve never smoked a day in my life😭
me and google were like this 🤞🏾 while writing
hope you enjoyed <333
masterlist
tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @sosmatt @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4
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2knightt · 11 months
Note
please write something, anything I’m thirsty pretty please with a cherry on top 😋
↳treat me like a fool!₊˚✧
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──IN WHICH, the gang falls head over heels inlove!。✦
||✰ — the gang, separately
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Dallas Winston ;
dally thought you were gorgeous.
you were sitting across at buck’s, talking to someone who could only assume is your friend.
you were laughing, giggling, talking, in such a way that dallas was captivated.
he couldn’t even pay attention to two-bit tellin’ him one of him lousy jokes.
“and i tell ‘er—hey! are you even listenin’ to me, dal?!”
“what?”
“what’re you even looking a—”
two-bit may not be smart, but he sure as hell can put two and two together.
he followed dallas’s eyes, only to see you.
two-bit got a goofy grin on his face and turned to face dallas.
“go talk to her!”
dallas rolled his eyes in annoyance.
‘go talk to her,’ he doesn’t get it—you’re too pretty for a grease like him.
“no, man.”
two-bit laughed like it was funny.
he lightly hit dallas’s arm, he knew he could talk to you, but it was like he was nervous.
and, dallas was nervous.
but he couldn’t let his nerves get the best of him. he just can’t, he’s better than that.
dallas sighed, dreading what he was about to do.
he knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t let the opportunity pass.
he walked towards you, putting on a confident aura to make him seem tuff.
“hey.”
“oh-hi!”
jesus, even your voice was pretty.
if we’re being honest here, dallas had to recollect himself after you spoke.
“saw you ‘cross the bar n’ wondered if i could, get your name?”
“that’s it?”
“yea, why? got a problem?”
“y/n.”
you answered his previous question, yet not his most recent one.
it was like you wanted to keep him guessing, and he liked that.
dallas winston actually liked y/n.
Johnny Cade ;
you’ve known dallas winston for years.
good friends, obviously.
the two of you were walking down the street to nowhere in particular.
the both of you like to make it up as you go.
you were telling him about some gossip as he pretended to listen, until he shouted out some guys name.
“johnny!? is that you?!”
you scoffed and rolled your eyes.
if he wanted to hang out with someone else, he could’ve just said.
the boy that you suppose is johnny, perked up and started walking towards you two.
the both of you stopped walking to see johnny, even though you had zero clue on who he is.
dallas is a very private man when it comes to his other friends.
when johnny got up to you guys, dallas threw his arm around his neck, puttin’ him in a headlock.
he was scolding the poor kid about something even you couldn’t understand.
when he was done, johnny was rubbing his head in annoyance.
his eyes almost lit up at the sight on ya.
johnny thought you were an angel.
you were almost glowing in the sunlight, your hair framed your face perfectly, your eyes, lips, nose, everything was gorgeous.
“uh, who’s she?”
he asked, turning to dallas.
“y/n, say hi to johnny. be a good girl, eh?”
“oh shut up, dal! but uh—hi johnny. i’m y/n.”
your voice was like honey to johnny, he was almost stunned.
you felt a little creeped out with his stares so, you thought you’d just walk back home.
you waved to the boys and turned around to start walking.
dallas looked in johnny’s direction with the type of look that johnny didn’t like.
“your creepy staring scared ‘er off.”
“what? i wasn’t staring, bug off man.”
was he? oh god..that’s not a good first impression.
especially for such a beautiful person like you!
god, what a fool he was.
Ponyboy Curtis ;
pony saw you ‘round school a few times, always thought you were really cute but he never got a real good look at you.
but luckily, you had to ask ‘em a question.
“hey! you’re ponyboy, right?”
you’re even prettier up close, jeez.
no way a guy like him, had a chance with a girl like you.
your smile was more attractive than he was, your voice was like the heavens above were calling for him, everything about you was just…better than him.
but he put on the bravest smile he could, and nodded his head.
“good, be pretty embarrassing if i was talkin’ to the wrong guy.”
you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
ponyboy lightly chuckled, never thought you’d get so comfortable around him before.
“well uhm—i was just wonderin’ if you knew my friend, micheal?”
yeah, he knew micheal.
he knew what you were gonna ask.
he knew there was a rumor going around about you guys dating.
he just, didn’t get why you’re asking him out of all people.
“yeah, why?”
“okay, cool! well, if he tells you we’re dating, ignore him. please?”
“definitely.”
you smiled, genuinely this time.
your smile almost made ‘em faint.
you were just so cute, too cute for anyone in this bum city.
you thanked ponyboy for his time and for being understanding, and rushed out.
he just stood there, trying to process that you talked to him.
he was red, his ears were red, and his cheeks were red.
he looked like a loser.
but now, he was a loser with an angel knowing about his existence.
so, it’s a win.
Sodapop Curtis ;
you just got hired at the DX to be a cashier.
you needed the money, just in general.
your boss had told sodapop he wasn’t needed at the cash register, and he didn’t know why.
he got that they got a new employee but, being the cashier was more his job!
thought he’d go check you out, go see if your even fit for the DX!
you were just sitting there, your chin resting on your palm, waiting for anyone to walk through the doors to buy something.
you heard the back door open but didn’t really pay attention to it. you were sorta just, staring off into space.
sodapop walked in, and saw you just sittin’ there!
if he was working the register, he sure wouldn’t have just been sitting there!
he walked around the counter to talk to you, face to face! give ya a good scarin’.
at least, he thought that’s what he was gonna do.
when he saw you for the first time, he swore he almost got weak in the knees.
you just looked up at him, not bothering to move your head or nothin’.
even though you looked almost mad, you were still drop dead gorgeous.
the sun hit your face, just right.
your lashes, your eyes, the shine in ‘em almost made sodapop apologize for annoying you and run away.
in a good way, though.
“whatchu want? who even are ya?”
“nothin’! just wanted to say hi to my new co-worker is all. i’m sodapop curtis! what’s your name?”
he talks an awful lot this early in the morning.
but who are you to complain? less talking for you.
“y/n.”
soda smiled, even your name was beautiful.
everything about you was.
you were perfect.
Darry Curtis ;
you knew darry early on in life, around middle school..maybe?
you couldn’t really pinpoint it.
you stopped talking because you moved up north.
you did miss him, but you never really thought an awful lot about it. even when you were going back to tusla.
you were at the store for nothing in particular, it was more like something to pass the time.
you were going aisle by aisle, finding nothing.
until you went down one aisle, there was one real tall guy looking at some soup.
you thought he looked familiar, but you couldn’t tell from so far away.
you walked down the aisle and stopped right beside him, pretending to be looking at soup.
the man looked confused, but he was distracted so you could get a good look.
you saw his side profile and it all finally clicked.
“holy shit, darry?!”
you basically shouted, with a huge stupid grin.
darry looked scared and confused at the fact that someone knew his name, but when he turned to face you he looked more surprised than anything.
“y/n?!”
darry thought you were pretty before but, jesus. how did you get even prettier?
your smile was wider than before, your eyes looked happier, and you were just…gorgeous overall.
“well shit—how’re you? how’s your brothers?”
“they’re good. soda dropped out though, but ponyboy’s doin’ good in school.”
“that sucks about soda, ‘m sorry. but uh—i gotta go, sorry! hey, how ‘bout we catch up tomorrow?”
darry was shocked you’d even wanna hang out with him.
you just seemed so—high class now.
but, who was he to turn down a goddess?
he agreed and the two of you set a time and waved goodbye.
for the rest of the day, darry had this stupid smile on his face.
Steve Randle ;
you guys had met through a mutual friend.
danny had wanted to hang out with two of his friend groups at the same time.
you were in group A while steve was in group B.
everyone was partying, but that wasn’t really your thing.
you were off to the side, people watching.
some guy grumbled and stood next to you, almost oblivious to you.
he looked pretty mad so you thought you’d ry n lighten the mood.
somehow.
“so much for a party, huh?”
you tried to joke, looking up at the man.
he looked down at you, stunned.
you didn’t know why, he looked like he was judging you the way he looked you up n down.
steve was just shocked a girl like you would talk to him.
too pretty for him, way too pretty.
even in this dimly lit room, he can see how gorgeous you were.
your smile was so pretty, so gorgeous.
then steve realized he must look like a freak, staring.
he chuckled, giving you a halfassed answer.
“yeah right. was told this was gonna be fun, might as well leave.”
“was just about to do that. no point in stayin’ when all my friends are so drunk they can’t even remember their own names.”
“can i get your name at least?”
he asked, raising an eyebrow.
he must’ve thought that was smooth.
you chuckled at his question,
“y/n.”
“i’m steve, it’s nice to meet you, pretty lady.”
Two-bit Matthews ;
“woah! hey pretty lady!”
you heard some guy shout at you from behind you.
you sighed, but kept on walking.
when the strange dude caught up to you, he almost tripped.
you laughed at his failed attempt, and two-bit could’ve sworn he heard wedding bells right there!
“what d’ya want?”
“can i not want to talk to you?”
“nah.”
you answered, grinning at his disappointed face.
“aw, c’mon! a man deserves something for his efforts!”
“what efforts?”
the man went silent, and thought for a moment before answering,
“…i ran.”
you burst out laughing again.
and two-bit almost pulled out a ring.
you were like a goddess on earth, had the most gorgeous laugh, and understood his humour?
take him away.
“well? can i get ya number, pretty lady?”
“nah.”
you said, walking away.
the man stood there, stunned, watching you walk away before snapping out of it to shout at you.
“AT LEAST TELL ME YOUR NAME!! I’M TWO-BIT!”
“Y/N!”
and now it’s two-bits mission to get y/ns number.
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—can you tell i gave up?
— ALSO MY OTHER FIC WONT UPLOAD. UGH.
taglist ;
@diorgirl444 @typereader
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whore4abby · 6 months
Text
a room with a view; abby anderson
part one
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warnings; older!abby, ditzy fem!reader, mdni
wc; 1.1k
you were getting tired of the bustling city-that-never-sleeps lifestyle, and it was starting to take a toll on you, leaving you feeling burnt out and in need of a little getaway for a while. you had decided to surf the web and look for any airbnb listings, preferably something a couple hours outside the city.
whilst idly scrolling through the available rentals, you eventually stumble upon a listing that catches your attention. the listing is for a room to rent on a charming farmstead nestled in a serene and rural part of a small town, surrounded by rolling hills and lush greenery that seems to span for miles and miles in all directions.
intrigued by the listing, you quickly make up your mind and decide to book this spontaneous getaway. the thought of being on a farm for a few weeks has you feeling giddy and excited about your new adventure, picturing yourself in the idyllic fields and playing with the animals, maybe even going for a dip in a nearby creek.
and after a few swift clicks of your freshly manicured fingertips and a trip to your purse to fetch your credit card details, you’ve finally secured your reservation. you try to hold back your excitement but before long you’re giggling and kicking your feet like a schoolgirl, rustling the soft floral sheets beneath you with your frenzied movements.
a couple weeks later, you find yourself driving up a long and winding path up towards the farmhouse. the fields either side of you filled with gorgeous wildflowers and tallgrass, the gentle breeze causing them to sway slightly. you hum along happily to the music emitting from your radio, a little smile on your face as you feel the warmth of the sun hitting your cheeks.
abby sits on the front porch of the farm house, a coffee mug in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. she hears the low rumble of your engine and looks over as you slow down and pull up outside the quaint farmhouse. she watches you hop out of your little white convertible and prop your sunglasses up on your head, your wedged sandals crunching at the gravel beneath your feet as you saunter around to the trunk to grab your bags.
abby stands up, taking a final sip of her coffee before walking off the shady porch and towards you. she crosses her arms across her chest and stares at you, clearly unimpressed with your arrival. the clothes you’re wearing scream ‘city girl’ and she thinks you look a little ridiculous walking around in a short dress and high heels.
“i think you're in the wrong part of town, darlin’…” she blows out a big cloud of smoke and raises an eyebrow at you, looking you up and down and throwing the cigarette butt to the floor and stomping it out with the heel of her beaten up cowboy boots. “y/n right…?”
“yeah, that's me…and you’re abby, right?” you smile, before attempting to haul your luggage out of the car. abby nods and sighs before getting closer to help you with your things. “here, let me…” she mumbles, not waiting for your response before grabbing your bags and suitcases one by one. you watch her as she effortlessly lifts the bags and walks with them towards the modest home. you finally get a good look at the woman you’re gonna be spending the next month with, and you feel yourself start to get a little flustered around her as you watch her biceps strain against her plaid shirt.
you giggle softly and look up at her “i could’ve done that myself-” she smirks ever so slightly and gives you another subtle once over, “a pretty little city girl like yourself…? i don't think so, honey.”
abby looks down at you smugly, and gives you a sceptical look, speaking lowly, “ya know.. this is a farm right? this ain’t a vacation. you can’t be wearin shit like that. jesus christ, girl.” she mutters before she starts to take your bags into the farmhouse.
“this is where you’re gonna be staying.” abby sighs and almost rolls her eyes as she leads you down the corridor and into a bedroom. its a small room, nothing like what you’re used to back at home, but you’ll make do just fine. she sets down the pile of bags and stands with her hands on her hips in the doorway. “set your shit up…” she looks at you sternly.
“listen to me missy….im not dealing with any of this bullshit-” she gestures to the excessive amount of belongings you have, from the makeup to the ungodly amount of clothes and other useless material items.
“i don't want you leavin all your things around, yeah? this is my house and you’re gonna follow my rules whether you like it or not…understand?” you resist the temptation to roll your eyes and give her attitude, instead choosing to just nod for the sake of staying on her good side. and with that she turns on her heel and retreats back down the hallway and disappears out of sight.
you let out a heavy sigh and lay back on the bed, giving yourself a little time to adjust to your new temporary home before you start to unpack.
the next morning, you step out of your room, heels smacking against the hardwood flooring as you join abby at the table. she looks up from her newspaper in disbelief and scoffs at your choice of outfit, but its obvious she likes what she sees as her eyes drift down to your thighs, which are barely covered by your itty bitty denim shorts. “coffee?” she pushes over the pot towards you and your eyebrows furrow, “no iced lattes?” she snorts in amusement and shakes her head, “just drink the damn coffee, doll~”
you huff but still bring the mug up to your freshly glossed lips, drinking from the steaming mug, and shuddering a little at the bitter taste, “not even any sugar?” you give her an innocent smile, hoping to woo her into agreeing with you. but instead she looks at you as if you’ve deeply offended her, making it pretty clear she’s not willing to compromise on this.
she finishes reading and snaps the newspaper back together, throwing it down on the table and standing back up. “hey, wh- i wasn't finished!” you pout as she scoops up your mug and pours the coffee down the drain.
“remember what i said!? my house. my rules. now hurry up we got work to do-” she bites back harshly and opens up the door, ushering you out and resisting the urge to slap your ass as you pass by.
god this was gonna be hard work.
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silassinclair · 1 month
Note
It’s my first time requesting, so I’m sorry if you don’t understand my bad english ;-;
May I request a GN readerx Yandere Wild West Outlaw (my brain can’t remember his name) with a reader who sleeps anywhere on anything? There will be one time this man has seen his darling somehow out of the ropes and is sleeping on the roof.
I understand if you don’t wanna do this request, but if you do it thank you from the bottom of my heart! <3
Always take care and take a break when needed~
This request is so silly I have to do it. Also your english is great, don’t sweat it!!
Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Sleepy Reader
CW// Nothing, just wholesomeness
Masterlist
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It’s yours and Maddox’s first night together after he took you from your home. You two are camping out in the desert by a cave. There’s a small fire lit and Maddox’s horse Jasper is munching on some carrots.
But it’s been awfully quiet, the outlaw thinks. Why is it so quiet?
He realizes it’s because of you! You’re usually always thrashing and screaming at him and now you aren’t!
He also realizes that you’re no where to be found… It makes him panic slightly. He shoots up from where he’s sat and he looks around the camp. The desert is dangerous, what if you got stung by a scorpion or bit by a rattlesnake!?
“You come out from where you’re hidin’ missy! Or I outta shoot-”
He nearly trips and falls flat on his face. Looking down he sees you taking a dirt nap, quite literally in the dirt. How did you get so far away from camp? Did you sleep walk? Fall asleep while trying to escape? Whatever it is Maddox doesn’t give a damn, he’s glad he found you.
“You’re a dumb little thing. What would you do without me?”
From this moment onward Maddox sees a repeating pattern. You sleep anytime, anywhere. And on occasion you can even “teleport”. He thought about calling a priest to perform an exorcism on you once.
“Sweet Jesus, this ain’t possible… How’d ya get out here!?”
When you fall asleep while on his horse he sits you in front of him so he can act as a back rest. He doesn’t want you falling off now.
Loves it when you fall asleep on him. You’re so vulnerable when you’re asleep like this. He can touch you without getting yelled at or smacked. So he takes advantage of it.
Combs his hands through your pretty locks of hair and caresses your plush cheeks. Sometimes when you squirm in your sleep from a nightmare he shushes you like a baby and rocks you back and forth.
Stays by your side from now on when you’re asleep after… the incident.
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The Incident:
After over a week of being on horseback and foot Maddox finds an old house for them to settle in temporarily. It’s a cute house with victorian architecture. It’s definitely abandoned and all the owner’s belongings are still there. They most likely fled due to the Native American tribe near by but Maddox isn’t afraid of them. He actually gets along with the tribesmen better than the whites who hate him for being half American and half Mexican.
“This place is nice. It almost the same size as my old home.” Y/n mutters as she admires the decor. But her eyes feel heavy, she needs to sleep. This past week has been exhausting.
Maddox notices how worn out she is. She’ll be no good to him if she’s a mopey, tired slug. So he brings her upstairs to the main bedroom. The bed is dusty but it’ll have to make do.
“You’ll sleep here sweetheart. But I’m gonna have to tie ya’ down. I don’t need ya’ escaping now.” Maddox ties a rope from the bed post to her ankle.
Y/n doesn’t even bother to yell or fight back from being tied down. She just falls asleep immediately like a hibernating bear. When she’s asleep Maddox unpacks some supplies down in the living room. He also cooks up a can of beans and digs in.
It’s quiet. All his life he’s been alone, but he’ll never admit he feels lonely. He’s never had anyone to trust or rely on. Most nights he’ll sleep under the stars and talk to Jasper. But he’s a horse so talking to him is one sided.
Even though Y/n is sleeping just upstairs he misses her. Misses her snarky comments, creative insults, and the way she smacks his chest when he gets too close.
“What are you doing to me woman..” The outlaw mutters to himself as he trudges himself up the creaky wooden stairs. He’s in front of her door and he opens it slowly, peeking his head in. But then he slams it open when he sees she’s gone.
“Y/n?” He shouts, looking around the room and searching every corner. She’s missing again! Maddox runs like a cat out of water as he searches the whole house. What if she got hurt!? He could never live with himself.
He kicks open the front door and looks around the property. What if the tribe found her and thought she was a threat? Every negative outcome of what could happen to her comes to his mind. Getting eaten by a coyote is a possibility too.
Maddox takes his hat off and grips his black hair.
“FUCK!” He shouts and kicks the dirt on the ground, the cloud of brown blowing with the wind. Maddox walks back to the house in defeat where he tells Jasper that Y/n’s gone, and she is never coming back. But the horse only exhales loudly and shakes his head back and forth.
“She’s gone buddy. I know you liked her but she’s probably dead in a fuckin’ ditch somewhere!” The man snaps.
Jasper slams his front leg down and neighs loudly. His nose is pointed up towards the house.
“What are ya’ on about you?” Jasper never behaved like this before unless he wanted to try and tell him something. He’s a smart horse, so any sound or motion me makes is usually when he tries to convey a message.
Maddox looks up at the house where Jasper is looking and squints his eyes. He puts his hat back on to cover his eyes from the beating sun. Looking closer he sees a familiar head of h/c hair on the roof!
“Y/n!?” Maddox says in disbelief. How the fuck did she get up there!? Does she even know she’s up there? Probably not.
“Shit boy, what do we do?” He turns to his horse. Jasper neighs louder and Maddox looks back up and sees that she’s about to fall off the roof!
“SHIT!”
Y/n turns in her sleep and falls off the roof. Maddox feels his heart drop and he breaks off into a sprint. Just before she hits the ground he catches her, making them both fall to the dirt.
“Y-You?” Y/n wakes up and sees she’s outside and that god forsaken outlaw is beneath her. His head is under her dress making her squeal and scramble away.
“W-What in the hell!? What do you think you’re doing? Why am I outside and why was your ugly mug up my dress!?”
Maddox groans and rubs his head. He turns to her with a glare and grabs her wrist, pulling her up.
“I ain’t ever takin’ my eye off you again! You ought to be a witch or somethin’!”
From that moment onward Maddox sleeps next to Y/n in a bone crushing cuddle. When he feels her move in the slightest he wakes up and tightens his hold. No way in hell will he let something like that happen again.
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Text
Tiny Shelby Feet - A John Shelby/Reader Short Story.
Just a fluffy lil' short that came to me this morning, besties. Hope you love it :)
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Words - 700
Warnings - None. Fluff a' plenty!
“You alright, sweetheart?” 
No, you absolutely are not alright. And it’s all his fault.  
Being angry at him isn’t an option, though, because he’s always so good to you. Hell, it was him being very good to you that got you into this in the first place, your stomach swollen and rounded with the next Shelby offspring due to arrive into the family in the next couple of days.  
You toss and turn a little more, albeit slowly, heaving your bulk to lie on your back. “I can’t get comfortable.”  
“Bet ya can’t, bab. Can’t even imagine what it’s like,” he speaks softly, removing one of the pillows from beneath his head. “Lift up.” Pushing yourself up, he slides it beneath your lower back, the downy plumpness soothing against your aching back. “What is it like, though? Is there anything it’s similar to that I’d understand?” 
It’s sweet of him to even want to try and comprehend the feeling of being pregnant, at least. “Imagine if somebody gave you a gallon of Epsom salts and sewed your arsehole up.”  
His eyes bulge. “Jesus fuckin’ wept. That don’t sound like fun.” Those eyes continue to widen when he sees you beginning to wince through gritted teeth. “Ain’t coming, is he?”  
“No, no it’s a cramp in my thigh.” 
“Left or right?” 
“Left.” Your instruction has him reaching beneath the bedcovers, beginning to massage said thigh, the tightened muscles finally relenting within the grasp of his warm, skillful hands. Bloody John Shelby and his skillful hands. Again, it’s how you ended up like this in the first place. “Okay, that’s better now. Thanks, love.” 
He props himself up on an elbow, hand lovingly stroking your bump, smiling as he feels his unborn child wriggling beneath his palm. You still remember the day you felt those first kicks, running down to the betting shop and grabbing his hand so he could feel them, too. You’ll never forget how lit up he looked at the sensation of tiny feet nudging against his big hand. “Who do you think he’ll look like most, you or me?” 
You can’t help yourself. “Me, hopefully.” 
“Oi, you cheeky mare!” Desired effect achieved. “I suppose it’d be better. I know I’m handsome, but we don’t want two freckled ginger nuts in the house.” 
“I really hope she has your hair, and your freckles,” you speak, putting extra emphasis on the word she. ”You know I love your freckles." 
“Fuck off,” he mutters, batting your hand away from where your finger trails over his shoulder. 
“Oi, no violence! I’m carrying your daughter!” 
“Son!” he corrects with a pointed finger. “You’re carrying me son. No girls, they’re too much headache for my liking.”  
“Poor thing’ll likely never see the outside of the house until she’s eighteen,” you chuckle, stroking your bump lovingly. 
He snorts, curling his lip slightly. “And the fucking rest! Ain’t having no boys round her, oh no, none of that malarkey.” He then lifts his chin a little, nodding to your rounded belly. “That is if it’s even a girl in the first place, and I’m still saying it’s a boy.”  
You smile, your eyes growing tired, yawning right on cue. Finally comfortable, you’re able to settle, drifting off to the rhythmic stroke of John’s hand over your belly. He thinks you’ve nodded off, unaware that you can hear every word he whispers to your unborn child.  
“Don’t even matter to me, you know, what you are,” he speaks softly, leaning to lay a kiss just above your protruded belly button. “I’ll love you until the last beat of my heart. I will. Anything you want, it’s yours. You ain’t gonna grow up poor and scratching around to make ends meet like we all had to. I’m gonna be a proper dad to you, little’un.” 
You can feel a lump in your throat form thickly, smiling on the inside as you drift into slumber. It’s nothing compared to two days later, though, when you see John holding your newborn son in his arms for the first time, his eyes filled with happy tears. Or, when five minutes later, you birth the twin sister nobody knew you carried, too.  
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lasciviouspoison · 9 months
Text
had to write this concept before i forgot it, lol. tw: toji! x chubby!reader, reader is mentioned to be bratty and submissive, use of pet names (mama, sugar, baby), breeding!, reader being cock drunk and toji is pussy drunk like a mf. per usual, i write with black women/woc in mind but all are welcome to read and enjoy. love ya!
toji fucks his pretty chubby bunny like there’s no tomorrow every. single. time.
now of course it took the two of you a bit of time to get comfortable with each other. and by the two of you, i mean you. at first, you were apprehensive to toji seeing you in a bra, much less completely nude!
but after a couple of months, the two of you grew to love each other and your guard completely crumbled to the ground. finally allowing toji to see you, whenever he wanted, however he wanted.
hence why now, it doesn’t matter the occasion, time, or place, when he can fuck you. but just how many times he can get u to cum before he does.
and right now, in your shared candle lit bedroom, he’s at a record number of three…
“jesus fucking christ baby, love it when you lemme fuck ya like this” toji says in between thrusts. there’s sweat beading at his hair line, causing his raven black hair to dampen ever so slightly.
mindless babbles and cries leave your lips as a response, causing him to chuckle and stroke you at a painfully slow pace.
“c’mon baby, talk ta me. lemme know how good i make ya feel.” he’s in your ear, but it feels like his voice is traveling all over you. at this point, you’re so delirious, it feels like he’s talking from inside your head.
“toji y’feel s’good. wanna do this f’rever” you say with a heavy tongue, glossy lips, and tears streaming down your face. if you’d have seen yourself right now, you would’ve ran away from him, but toji can only think to himself how beautiful you look right now.
beautiful hair splayed over the pillows in such a perfect way. your sleepy eyes looking up through those beautiful eye lashes. the perfect nose and full lips. silver jewelry all tangled from the movements, but he doesn’t care. how could he care when your body, that perfect and pliant body, is on display for him? so soft and pretty. smelling of vanilla, you’re like his own piece of heaven. one that he gets to build up and tear down each time you let him.
it’s why each time you let him fuck, he does it like he wants to put you through the mattress.
“forever huh? maybe you should quit that stupid job like i told ya. stay at home and sit pretty for me while i take care of ya. would ya like that mama? tell me sugar.” he’s baiting you, but you’re too cock drunk to care.
“yessss! yesyesyesyes! i’ll quit, i’ll do wha’ever toji jus please don’t stop” your eyes are crossing and your toes are curling. it’s quite shocking how toji can turn such a bratty girl like you into such a submissive and mailable mess.
but he wouldn’t want it any other way.
“‘kay baby. i won’t stop. not gonna till i fill ‘er up. make ya a mama. oh! yer lil pussy must reallyyy like that idea, she tightened up on me, hehe” he says. but his strokes are getting sloppier by the second, so you know he’s close too.
without a second thought, toji sticks his thumb in your mouth and you automatically suck on it. he pulls it out with a ‘pop’ and rubs tiny circles on your clit. it makes your legs shake while you attempt to close them despite toji’s body being in the way.
he grabs your face with his other hand and kisses you deeply, tongue swiping over your bottom lip before entering your mouth. at this point, the two of you are moaning and whining into each others mouths like some horny teens.
it’s amazing how your neighbors haven’t complained about the noise yet.
toji removes his mouth from yours and buries his head in your neck, “gonna cum baby. want it inside?” his voice is gravely and his thrusts are getting harder by the second.
“yes toji! wan’ it inside me!” you manage to whine out.
didn’t have to tell him twice, “okay baby, g’nna give it to ya- ah- fuck! there ya go baby. there ya fuckin go. take it all”. he’s cumming so hard that his jaw locked, forcing him to talk through his teeth. his hands pry your legs open as far as they can go, trying to savor as much of you as he can before the sensitivity kills him.
you can feel the warmth from his cum shoot deep into you, which triggers your fourth orgasm of the night. the two of you are mindlessly grinding against each other while riding out your highs. toji making note to not drop his full weight onto you, but hold you close, which results in you being elevated slightly off the bed.
soon after, you can feel toji set you down gently and lay on top of you. hes stroking your hair and wiping your tears away until he hears you let out a loud breath.
“ya back with me mama?” voice laced with concern.
“m’okay now toji.” you say with a slightly shakey voice. your hand comes up to brush some of his hair out from in front of his eyes.
toji sits back on his knees, still inside you, and examines your face and upper body for any signs of him being too rough.
“was scared i hurt ya. i know i can get a lil too rough at times” he says while rubbing your boobs gently.
you let out a small laugh and adjust yourself on the bed, causing your hips to move back slightly on toji’s dick. he tries not to hiss at the feeling but his brain has turned to mush again and now all he can think about is how good you smell. “you’re never too rough toji. i’d tell you if you were”. you say with such a sweet and gentle smile, meanwhile toji feels like a fucking rabid animal.
and suddenly, he’s laying on top of you again, kissing and sucking on your neck. his hands have moved back down to your thighs where they’ve begun to push your legs back.
his head knocks into your jaw and he licks the side of your mouth. his body is burning hot and he’s running low on stamina, but he can’t help himself.
“good. cause m’still hard”.
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cringequeenwrites · 3 months
Note
hi <3 id like to request larry johnson smut. i have this idea of just like laying around being lazy with him, talking about his art, music, maybe even smoking a little. as he’s comfortably rambling with you, he keeps trailing off getting distracted by looking at you. he starts grabbing at your thighs (super obsessed with them) and listing off phrases of adoration about you. just overall super lovey, entranced by you, almost can’t help himself but just being all over you. just some guilty pleasure lazy lovey smut plss 😭😭
Sorry for taking so long I was in art block for a hot minute, long intro,fluff,love making smut >>
•oO* •oO* •oO* •oO* •oO* •oO* •oO* •oO*•oO*•o
The Artist’s muse
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Art credit: @deordah on instagram
You woke up begrudgingly to the buzz on your phone. The rectangular light emitted shadowed your bewildered, but sleepy features as you grasp your phone with your eyes still closed. Once you could lift the weight of your eyelids you could just see a text from your boyfriend.
‘Come to my room, I need your help.’
You muster a groan before slugging off the bed before putting on some more appropriate pjs to where before sliding on some fluffy slippers and exiting your apartment to trudge into his. Times like this you feel grateful that you live in the same complex as your lover.
The elevator shuddered and reeked of cigarettes and mildew finally stopped and you exited. Softly opening is shared apt door to not wake his mom up with the spare key she gave you a couple months back. In her words Larry made too much noise trying to sneak you in himself than you actually coming normally.
You lock the door behind you and shuffle to his bedroom. The deafening silence of your slippers and his music looming vibrations into the thin wall made you feel almost invisible like a ghost. The familiar smell of burning marijuana and incense filled your nose.
You open his door and slide in to close it behind you. He hadn’t notice your presence yet. You spotted his figure behind a canvas atop of his big easily that also blocked the door way. Most likely the cause of him not noticing you come in. His vinyl player playing a more low and somber tone in contrast of the typical metallic death metal.
You scooted to the side, he still doesn’t notice you. But now you see he’s hyper-focused and high painting something. You see the shapes and color of a figure but you can’t tell what it is yet. You see him put down his paint brush with his brows furrowed as he takes another hit from his blunt, reaching for his phone.
‘Hurry up’
‘I’m right next to you dumby.’
You waited for text to deliver, to ping his phone, and to fully read your one sentence before lifting his head up like a barn owl. You see him jump in his stool and almost fall back. “Jesus fuck, sals a bad influence on you, you know that?” You chuckle at his response and move closer, hugging his tall frame as an apology. “What did you need help with larva.” Larva was the nick name you gave him because you grimaced every time you used larr-bear. Larva being way cuter you argued. You boyfriend who had mixed feelings about being compared to a worm, got back to what he wanted to say.
“I need you to pose for me, I wanna paint ya.”
You paused and looked at him, looking in his features to decipher if he was messing with you or not. His eyes stared back at yours with honesty and the white of his eyes a more pink from weed.
He then wrapped his arms around you to pick you up. You wide eyed and flattered at first, now flustered and in the air. “How bout,no..actually hold on.” He muttered before he flopped you on the bed with heist as he rearranges the position of his easel. You were torn with emotion. Flattered that your boyfriend wanted to paint you, but tired because it’s almost two and half in the morning.
You steal the neglected blunt off his nightstand as he fumbled with his pants. Still lit and burning you inhale while just accepting what’s happing. Still half asleep as you stare off into space. “You’re so pretty you know that?” His voice dipping an octave with his brush against the canvas. “I’m tired.” You almost whispered, even talking normally felt like too much work right now. “I mean it, you’re so fucking beautiful.” You say nothing unintentionally,zoned out from sleep deprivation and the slow high as you inhaled the blunt with your lips touching the rolled up paper.
You’re unsure how much time has passed. Your mind brought back to Larry when you no longer hear the brush strokes and music from the player suddenly click off. You observe him turn of the lights, but still seeing his silhouette shuffle toward you. Climbing in the bed quietly, the light of your blunt being the only light emitting from the room.
He sits closer to you,not saying a word, but you can tell what he is doing. You give him the blunt, he cranes his head. you cup his cheek with your free hand and place the joint to his lips with your other hand. You two shared the dwindling blunt until it was just bits of burnt paper. Breathing smoke from his mouth into yours, feeling as if you’re sucking his soul.
“I love you.” He said. His head coming to rest on your shoulder as you put your hands around his neck. “I love you too, don’t ever wake me up this late again.” You hear his sudden chuckle, feeling his dopey smile on your skin. “I’m sorry, just miss you.” He continued. Pulling down your pj pants with your underwear. “You see me everyday.” You entertained him as you pulled his shirt off. “I know.” He huffed. Taking off your shirt he gave you years ago.
“I just want you here, I want your heart.. Your attention, I wanted to hear your voice. I don’t know how to put it. I even miss the smell of your clothes.”
He uttered through whispers. Shuffling his pants off to kick them away. Kissing the shell of your ear down to your neck. Hands on your waist as his legs intertwined with yours.
“I need you.”
He grabbed the lube from that laid on the covers from a couple nights before. Pouring a generous amount on his shaft. You lock his waist between you with your legs. He rubbed his cock between your folds,heat already emitting from the both of you. The squelching sound made by your mixture of slick and lube coating your lips as his tip plays with your sensitive clit. You let out a shuddered whimper from the teasing, earning a chuckle from the man above you. He then inserted the head in, pausing to give you time to adjust before sinking his length in. His thickness was something you never got used to, no matter how many times you two were together. He bottomed out with a huff. Pausing again to give you time to adjust. You ran your hands through his hair to signal him to go. He slowly thrusted but thoroughly pressed into your core when he made contact. Now spouting endless praise and encouragement to you. “You so fucking hot, fuck, your pussy is so good I could fuck you forever. Your noises are so fucking cute too. I love you so much baby you don’t even know.” He sped up to where you could hear the plaps and squelching of your skin together. Inching closer and closer before you were about to climax. “Larry I’m close-“ you could only warn too soon before you felt your legs spasm and shake as you gush around his cock. Hiding your face in the crook of his neck as he chased his high, thrust coming to a sloppy rhythm as he pumped his cum I side you, filling your pussy until it was spilling out as he pulled out.
“We can clean up tomorrow morning.” He exhaled, still lying on top of you as he drew the blanket covers over the two of you. “I love you.” You whispered with soft huffs. “Love you too.” He said, falling asleep with your arms around him.
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wileys-russo · 5 months
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dancing the line what are we ficlet plsss 🙏🙏
dancing the line, what are we
"-or i was thinking maybe this one?" you paused in front of a sofa, crossing your arms and waiting for your girlfriends input, only it never came. looking up you realized she wasn't with you and your eyebrows knitted into a frown.
"grace? babe?" you called out, cringing a little as several people turned to give you a funny look in the crowded store. "for god sakes." you sighed as you roamed around the furniture store, finally spotting her.
"babe! ya gotta try this, heavenly." your girlfriend sighed, feet kicked out and reclining in an expensive looking massage chair, groaning as her voice vibrated. "baby i need to buy a new sofa today, get up." you chuckled, extending a hand toward her.
"five more minutes." grace sighed, eyes fluttering closed. "no! get up clinton." you kicked her ankle playfully as she huffed but clicked the remote to stop it none the less, hauling herself up. "what bout this one?" your girlfriend asked, gesturing to a brown leather sofa.
"leather? no thank you." you shook your head firmly as grace hummed, the two of you walking around as she pointed out sofa after sofa and you'd find something wrong with each one.
"babe ya've managed to find an issue with every single sofa. what do ya want?" your girlfriend withheld the urge to groan, forcing a pained smile as you both continued to wander around the store.
"that one!" your face lit up and grace let out a quiet sigh of relief as she followed after you. "will it fit in ya livin room?" the blonde questioned skeptically as you sank into the soft grey material.
"go to that end." you nodded, pulling out the tape measure you'd borrowed from mary and handing it to your girlfriend. standing up you both measured it and you nodded.
"yeah, it'll just fit."
~
"what was that about fittin!" your girlfriend huffed, grunting as the two of you struggled to fit the boxes which contained the parts of your sofa in your front door.
"i said it would fit in the living room! i didn't think about the fucking door. pivot!" you groaned, trying to rotate the last and largest box, the two of you heaving and straining before finally it slot through.
"jesus!" grace exhaled, promptly collapsing to the floor and covering her face with her arm. "thank god thats over." you sighed, pushing the final box out of the way and closing your front door.
"come on, now you have to build it." "don't ya mean we?"
you did not in fact mean we. you watched on from the kitchen as grace squatted down, tightening the legs of the first piece and mumbling away to herself as her eyes scanned the instructions.
"stop checkin me bum out while i do your work!" the blonde turned around and caught your eye with a knowing grin. "hey i'm helping!" you protested, sat up on the counter.
"and exactly how are ya helpin babe?" grace smiled, clearly amused at the thought. "moral support and i'll make you lunch soon." you gave her a cheeky grin, cheering loudly and clapping making her eyes roll as she turned back to her work.
"smells good." you smiled and leaned back into the strong arms which wrapped around you. "it's a sandwich, doesn't smell like anything." you teased, craning your head back as grace only smiled and softly kissed you.
"come on, time to go test the sofa i just built ya!" "we built baby." "i built babe, and i'll be charging ya for me services." "oh really?" your laughter filled the room as the taller girl picked you up, marching over to the sofa and dropping you down, crawling on top of you and ducking down so her lips ghosted yours.
"really, don't want ya in any debt so we best start ya payment plan now then babe."
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