Tumgik
#which would cover a whole month of work for me
ur-mousey · 1 day
Text
You Need Me ~
Yandere! Geto Suguru x F!Reader
Tumblr media
Part One
summary After losing your job, you settle into a new living situation with Geto Suguru. 2.05k warning mature, smut, caregiver kink, manipulation, confrontation, comfort sex, dub-con, bondage. ..............................
Geto Suguru's kept your head up high through the whole ordeal. He's been at his most supportive now that you've lost your job. Gone were those turbulent days of worrying over the emotional distance. And in its place lay this new opportunity. You have known each other for six years and dated for four. The next step was within reach, happening now. The brimming excitement in your boyfriend was contagious. However, it failed at easing the nervousness throbbing in your lungs.
You sat perched on the kitchen's island. Suguru messaged the knots forming on your shoulders. Easing the stress that bites at every pore and beckons on a migraine. You wanted this done. Men intruded at each corner, carrying boxes in and leaving out with furniture marked unusable in Suguru's eyes. It never felt livelier in this familiar home. 
What was a den of musk and dark wood, a bachelor pad of Suguru's creation turned brighter. Gone were the smoky brown leather couch or the scents of cigarette buds that caused your nose to stuff. And, in its place, was a style akin to yours. For fuck sake, he'd taken things too far before. For example, a month into dating, you'd lightly twisted your ankle, and your boyfriend flipped. He took his work home and piled on with the college assignments you had at the time to nurse you to health. And when you worried about attendance, Suguru had that covered.
Without your knowledge, your new boyfriend emailed your professors using your school account to explain your lack of attendance. It was a ridiculously crafted lie. Reading about your supposed 'life-impending' aliment got a cackle out of you. But, it crossed the line. These people thought that death would befall them. And, what was even shitier, was the forged doctor's notice that raised no alarm.
That was the first instance that you felt fearful of him. Geto Suguru had been a hapless drunk when you picked him up those years ago. And similar to a stray cat, he popped his head around. Studied your stance. Warmed up to your words left like bread crumbs, coaxing his body closer until he sunk his claws deep into your heart. Burrowing himself in your heart's confines, where now your veins singed only his name.
This housing debacle threaded that same fine line. 
You demanded that nothing would change and that Suguru would have his current space as is, now, littered with your nicknacks about. You were the one moving, not him. Therefore, he shouldn't lose his safety or way of life because of you. Your partner said he didn't mind. He prioritized your comfort above all. It was a losing battle from the start that you relented countless times because you couldn't argue forever. And that was a part of what terrified you. 
Losing your job set off a chain of events. Your apartment's lease was on the precipice of ending, and renewal couldn't be obtained without a job. It's been a struggle to revisit your resume, to fix the formatting, and to send it to potential employers. It was to the dismay of Suguru that you sought other employment. He preferred you'd take this time to self-discover away from school and work.
However, you needed money more so than fulfillment. You applied to numerous listings. None had bothered to respond. The few locations that you called promised future correspondence after reviewing your qualifications. Those promises had lit a fire under your feet, created a skip in your steps, which extinguished just as quickly. They'd, as well, never got back to you.
The bite of being unwanted weighed like a cluster of pebbles tossed to skid, only to be drowned in shallow waters. 
What if it wasn't you? You superseded those job requirements, and it made little sense that zero out of the possible thirty employers didn't even offer an interview. 
You had a faint inkling in the creases of your mind. Buried under the weight of distractions. A dark thought that felt smoldering. You love Suguru. But this somehow felt like his fault.
>>>
"Duckling, what do you feel like eating?" Suguru called as he rounded the corner. Eyes on his phone, "Tonight's take-out." You sat on a plush armchair, legs spread over the side, pulling apart tangled string lights you yearned to string up. You pondered for a moment.
"Um… ramen?" You shrugged, consumed by the K-drama on screen.
The food didn't sound appealing. You felt slightly nausea throughout the day. Nervousness compiled with skepticism of the past few months. But, you tried to let the visuals of the drama swoop you elsewhere. It did little to switch off your warring mind.
The current scene is played as follows. The antagonist counted down from ten, awaiting the anesthesia to be administered. As she reached seven, the young doctor interrupted her. "Oh, did you know? If I don't get all the air out before injecting a shot, you could die."
The client's eyes widen in confusion. The world around her became a loopy mess of darkness, except for the source of her trauma. Suguru raised his brows, glancing at the TV and then back to you.
"You're doing too much at once." His words slipped in between the doctor's parting line to the woman. Everything was black, the credits rolling. Before the next episode could load, you exited the streaming service with a scoff.
"Two things are too much?" You watched Sugu stalking forward. You wiggled your toes at him, giggling as he took the bate and tickled it. You squirm in your spot, heat rushing to your face. Your boyfriend's grasp was unrelenting as he continued to exploit your ticklish weak spot.
"It's three when I talk to you," Suguru whined, plucking the fairy lights from your hands. He tossed them on the coffee table. "I demand your sole attention." He pocketed his phone behind him, and he slotted his hips in between your legs. His hand abandoned your feet, trailing the expanse of your shin.
"Sugu..." You started not sure how to word it. The thoughts that had plagued your mind came rushing back in its full glory. You loved him, and if your suspicious were true, you wouldn't know how to function. Suguru hummed in response. He noted the worry swimming behind your gaze. He leaned down, nuzzling your neck with his head. Kisses broke loose along your collarbone. You felt too heavy to continue. "I- um, couldn't help but wonder... did you cause the jobs- um."
Suguru's movement stilled. His weight pinned your knees in place. A hurried breath passed your lips, "I won't be mad if you did." The fact that it was true caused your stomach to roll.
Whatever contents made its home in your belly earlier that day threatened to expel. You felt sick.
"So what if you won't." Suguru glowered at your frame as he reached his full height over you. Your pussy wept to be touched. Your lover looked as if he would ravish you in that moment. You rubbed curious circles on his knuckles as he lifted your lower half. You sucked in your lower lip, teeth pressing into the semi-raw flesh. Unsteadily, a tear slipped past your burning eyes. You uncomfortably arched your back to accommodate Suguru's silent demand. His hardened erection pressed tight strokes against your clit. "I got you fired. And I will not allow you to get another job."
You are startled by his cold admission. You gave a brief nod, choking out the next set of words. "You… can't just- Sugu, why?"
Suguru sighed, "Cause I love you. You're my stupid and naive little duckling. It's okay. I got you. I'll protect you from the monkeys."
"Monkeys?" You yelped.
"Don't worry about it. Isn't it more important that I got you." Suguru shimmed your shorts off and tossed it aside to the wastelands. You buried your face into the cushion, embarrassed that your concerns built into craving an orgasm. "Say it. Duckling, I got you."
Suguru's thumb applied pressure to your clit. He set a firm pace that anchored your senses to be swiftly compelled by him. He knew your body. You weren't ever going to find this pleasure in another. Suguru crouched on his knees. Your pussy naked and in his face. You heard the zipper of his pants break loose. The smack of his beautiful cock on his thigh elicited a whine from you. "You got me."
His lips smashed against your lower lips. His tongue lulled into your pulsing entrance. Suguru breathed over your clit, ragged and dense with unconcealed lust. His droll and your juices connected you two.
The sight made you blurt. "I love you." The waterworks flooded over you. You gargled moans between sobs. Suguru never once relented his assault on your vagina as you spoke. "I don't wanna think. I need you. Fuck me, Baby~."
"Good fucking girl." Suguru nipped at your folds. "I'll take all the bad thoughts away. I know whats best for you."
Suguru made quick work of his clothes and the remainder of yours. His cock held your attention as he cleaned away the coffee table. A bulbous head, red and shinny of pre-cum, made your mind fog. His length wasn't something to laugh at. It terrified you every time he'd whipped the thing out. He rarely shoved its full length inside of you.
Your head perked up as your boyfriend gestured you over. "This'll be more comfortable for y'a. Lay back." You did as told, acceding to his demands. Your back met the cold wood of the table. He made quick work untangling the string lights. Fuck You. You spent forty minutes on that crap when Suguru fixed it in less than two minutes. "I'm tying you down. Better be careful, or you'll break them," He grinned.
Using the middle of the fairy lights, he bound your wrists in place. He looped it around, tugged to check the sturdiness. Suguru folded your elbows up, your hands set firm on your chest and where your fingers could graze your chin if you ducked. Your boyfriend wrapped the two ends around your neck before securing them below the coffee table.
Suguru regarded his work. He tweaked at your nipples. He straddled your stomach, pumping his dick on top of your pillowy skin. "My- my, you've been so fucking good for me. Fuck, Duckling." He whined into your breast, taking turns with sucking each. You squirmed. Your feet slipping off the edge as you tried to find purchase.
Your hips bucked more intensely. The slopping sounds of your pussy caused your face to heat up. "Sugu~ stop teasing"
"Please, fuck me with your cock. I need it," You stuttered between the racing of your heart. Your tummy hurt so badly. You scratched at your neck, hissing at how deep you were going.
"Since the princess asked nicely."
Without warning, Suguru plunged headfirst into your cervix. He held you still, watching you squirm on his cock. "There's some rules from now on. You don't need anything that I can't provide. Repeat it."
You hiccuped, "I- uh… don't need an-anything that you can't provide." You attempted to twist your hips to ride Suguru's stationary body. He hummed at your words, releasing an attack on your clit. Short bursts of slaps had you seeing stars. You couldn't handle being at the height of an orgasm for much longer.
"Tell me you won't fight me. You can't say no to me. When I buy you something, you accept. If I dress you, bathe you, do all the shit that you could do yourself, guess what you do. Accept it."
"I won't fight. I'll accept everything you give or do to me." You whined. Borderline screamed at the top of your lungs. And with that, Suguru guided your hips back and forth.
.............................. Requests are opened and encouraged. Here's the official JJK master list that you can check out here. 🥰 @appleblueberry-pie, thank you for your continuous support and suggesting this lovely prompt.
@oromaangel and @sweetthingssourpeople. I hope that you two enjoy the continuation of this story! Thank you for your engagement on part one.
>>> NEXT JJK POST: Fushiguro Toji x Stripper! M!Reader!
Off topic, there is this stray cat outside my mom's house and she was so nice to me that I wanted to take her home but I couldn't because I live with a bunch of cat haters. 😭 Follow my instas if you want = Squeak.ink (art account) or Ur.Mousey (personal)
126 notes · View notes
taylor-titmouse · 3 hours
Text
Tumblr media
Julia is sick of working late. She's sick of being disrespected, and most of all she's sick of her boss. Lance is a burned out, smooth-talking playboy, but he also happens to be the son of the CEO.  When Lance pushes her buttons once too often, Julia is tempted to put him in his place – but is it worth throwing away her career for a moment of satisfaction? Content: -F/M -dom -degradation -small penis humiliation -directed masturbation -power play 5k words,  EPUB and PDF format Only $3, Releases later tonight! you can go read the first two pages on the shop page!
i've mentioned a couple times now that my editor and the author of roger crenshaw: the dogs at duskfall @mortalityplays is now available for freelance work for people other than me, but i don't think i've made as big of a deal how he's ALSO going to start releasing his own smut shorts on the last friday of every month! he is SUCH a talented writer on top of being an excellent editor and it's my absolute delight to work with him on the cover for his first release. FINALLY i have a great answer when asked "is there anyone else writing smut like you?"
and since this was the first time in a while i went through a cover design process that wasn't just me making one for myself, i thought i would go into how it went!
The Prompt
R/L wanted something that didn't visually describe the characters, because he had deliberately avoided that himself in the text. these characters are archetypes, ideas of characters: a woman who works in an office and her playboy burnout boss. for an erotic fantasy scenario, not going into detail can be ideal, as it allows the reader to project their own fantasies onto the characters. but what does that mean for a cover, when showing off the characters is often the point?
The Thumbnails
Tumblr media
it means silhouettes, babie! if you're a reader of romance you've probably seen this approach a few times. silhouettes allow you to give the impression of a character without actually specifying them. HOWEVER! that can only go so far. note the female silhouettes in the left and right thumbnails--one with a pony tail, one with her hair down. these two very minor design elements say completely different things about the character, and pin her design down into something specific. (there is a whole line of feminist thought about this, that there is no such thing as an "unmarked" woman, or rather a woman whose presentation does not say something about her, ie a woman not wearing makeup is not perceived as neutral the way a man not wearing makeup is).
so anyway including her in the cover in full doesn't work for the prompt, because how she wears her hair or how she dresses would say something about her that we don't want to say. thus: we chose the middle design!
a man in a shirt and tie are super archetypal, and """neutral""" enough to not say anything specific about lance, our male protagonist, other than he has a job and is of average size (which are of course not technically truly neutral, but for our purposes, are functional as symbols). and while a long, narrow, leg does still say something about julia, it is abstracted enough to simply represent the concept of "woman" without projecting an overall image of her in the reader's head. she has a leg, and she wears high heels. that's all you get!
The Sketch
Tumblr media
now we can move on to the sketch stage! this is the point at which the palette and text are figured out. i tried a few fonts before landing on one that had the retro paperback all-caps feel that i liked, and i used what i believe to have been a risograph print texture from retrosupply.
we went with the text up top rather than at the bottom, because it lends weight to the shoe and balances out the blacks in the pants. it also allows the figure to take up more of the cover, which is ideal. honestly, not a whole lot to say about this bit that i didn't cover in thumbnails: which is the point of doing thumbnails in the first place!
The Finish
well you can just scroll up to see that one. the final colors ended up a little less saturated, a little cooler, to bring it home to the retro paperback look i was going for and tie the colors together. i'm very pleased with it and had a lot of fun. cover design is one of my favorite parts of putting out books, and it was especially fun working with someone else to bring their vision to life.
anyway, you should go buy this book! it's only three dollars and i want to make more covers for these! your purchases would prove that i am a very good investment as a cover artist >:)
55 notes · View notes
harvestar · 3 months
Text
ugh the emotional dropoff did not go away and now I am So Sad with no real reason to be... today felt so weird and I don't know what's happening
2 notes · View notes
probayern · 2 years
Text
.
6 notes · View notes
drchucktingle · 3 months
Text
THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION TELLS CHUCK TINGLE TO STAY HOME BUT WE PROVE LOVE ANYWAY
just when you buckaroos thought 2024 would be a break from book drama, here comes chuck tingle in the mix. recently i was asked to be a featured speaker at the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION annual conference. a few days ago they rescinded my invitation. here is what happened.
(EDITED TO ADD THIS LINK. if you have a hard time reading this on way of tumblr you can also read for free on chucks patreon)
Tumblr media
i would like to start off by saying it is not my intent to start a fight, and all those reading this should know that the actions of a few misguided folks do not speak for the whole TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. i am sure there are many involved who will be very upset to learn what others at TLA have done in their name. there are many individuals here, so please do not paint them all as villains in your mind. besides, chuck loves the dang library everyone knows that.
the point of writing this is not to vilify. i am writing this is because MOMENTS OF DARKNESS are the best places to SHINE A LIGHT AND PROVE LOVE IS REAL. this is a perfect time for learning and growing and for us talk on some very important things that queer buckaroos and neurodivergent buckaroos face every day. this is an unfortunate moment that WE can turn around and use to prove love is real.
i am also writing this to understand some of my own personal feelings on the matter. for something that seems very simple on the surface, the trot is complex, and i am still working out my emotions on the whole dang thing. i am learning in this way.
PART ONE: BAG OF LOVE
a few months ago chuck was asked to be a featured speaker at the 2024 TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION ANNUAL CONFERENCE. i have been asked to do things like the before and it is ALWAYS a fun time to meet bookseller and librarian buds. trotting around face to face and talking about my story of conquering chronic pain and overcoming my mental hurdles is VERY IMPORTANT to me. i say YES to these things whenever i can. (here i am with authors at CALIFORNIA INDEPENDENT BOOKSELLERS ALLIANCE conference. they are a WONDERFUL group and they proved love with their OWN invitation to chuck. this was such a moving event with so many amazing authors and stories. got very teared up during this photo)
Tumblr media
ANYWAY BUCKAROOS i get the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION invite and say 'YES BUD LETS TROT'. we are then confirmed.
months pass. a few weeks ago i get a call from my manager and agent and publisher saying ‘the TLA have rescinded their invitation.’
turns out some things had been going on behind the scenes
at some point the TLA asked chucks INCREDIBLE HEROIC BAD ASS PUBLISHER if chuck would be okay with not wearing the mask, to which tor/nightfire/macmillan said ‘what the heck are you talking about of course chuck is going to wear his mask. this is how chuck presents himself’ (NOT EXACT QUOTE)
as you all know, my pink bag way is a VERY IMPORTANT SPACE. as an autistic buckaroo it is a boundary that allows me to express myself freely and relieve my chronic pain from neurotypically masking all day. i have talked about this for years, and it is why i consider my private identity a SACRED THING. it is literally a health issue.
fortunately THE PINK BAG is never really a problem when making appearances. i have spent years going on television shows, doing interviews, speaking at other conferences and conventions, hosting book events on tour, and even MEETING WITH LAWYERS in my pink face covering. it is always respected and that is very validating to my way.
when arriving anywhere i always take precautions. i always warn buckaroos ahead of time that there is a masked man coming. i always have someone go in ahead of me JUST IN CASE. again, there has never been an issue. at a big conference where i am a special guest there is ESPECIALLY not an issue because my face and bio are printed IN THE DANG PROGRAM
SOME FUN TIMES AT BIG EVENTS BELOW:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
CHUCK ON TV SHOW NAME OF 'AT MIDNIGHT' BACK BEFORE I WROTE LOVE IS REAL ON MY HEAD:
Tumblr media
well, there has never been an issue.... UNTIL NOW.
PART TWO: RESCINDED
a few days ago TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION suddenly messaged my publishers and said that chuck tingle is no longer invited. my invitation was rescinded. the reason given was that people could possibly be uncomfortable with my mask
right out of the gate i would like to say this: it is absolutely the right of the texas library association to disinvite someone from their conference. it is their event, after all, and they can ban anyone they would like, for any reason.
of course, that doesnt mean other folks HEARING THIS NEWS wont have their own opinions the TLA choices. if the TLA disinvites someone, their reasoning for doing this can be discussed and analyzed. whether or not they follow their own guidelines can be questioned, and certainly their kindness and tact can be considered
there are a few BIG POINTS to make regarding this choice from the TLA
first and foremost, i just gotta say buckaroos, it is incredibly rude to invite someone to be a guest speaker at your event, have them confirm and mark off their calendar and turn down other offers, then rescind their invitation. this is maybe the simplest of the points, but it is an important one.
second, (DEEP BREATH HERE WE GO BUCKAROOS) i personally do not think of my autism as a disability very often, but i also KNOW that despite these feelings it ABSOLUTELY IS. autism is important to be listed as a recognized disability because of the help some autistic buckaroos need regarding government programs and things like that. ALSO just because my neurodivergence has helped me in some ways (hyperfocus and a unique artistic sensibility for example). i personally need to step back and remember my battle with stress and chronic pain from having to neurotypically mask all the time. for as much as i love being autistic it has made some things very difficult.
in other words, i am perfectly capable of speaking and interacting with folks without this pink bag on my head BUT WHEN I AM IN THE CHUCK TINGLE SPACE I REQUIRE IT. i can ONLY use this space while covering my face. is not a want. it is a need. holding this boundary is more important than i can ever say. i will not, and can not, let these spaces cross.
TLA not letting an autistic author wear the face cover theyve set up to express their neurodivergence in a safe, healthy way is--for lack of a better term--NOT A GOOD LOOK.
i cannot fathom them disinviting another author for using a disability aid. i cannot fathom them saying that a buckaroo who hears better with a hearing device cannot use it during their panel because it would make others 'uncomfortable'.
but here we are.
PART THREE: WHAT DOES A BUCKAROO GOTTA DO TO GET BANNED AROUND HERE?
this is the TLAs official stance on disability issues according to their website:
Tumblr media
when poking around on the TLA website i noticed a few other things. i noticed a previous guest speaker wearing a niqab, and i was left wondering if the religious significance is what make that okay but chuck tingle banned. that made sense until i looked deeper and saw mascot buckaroos dressed up on the exhibition floor, and saw some kind of spiderbud in a costume contest. nobody around them seemed to be all that scared. their invitations REMAINED INTACT.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
it should be mentioned here that AT ONE POINT during the discussions an email was sent from TLA saying chuck is allowed to come and wear his mask in the exhibition halls and smaller panels, just not at any of the big PAID PANELS i was once supposed to participate on. this was a confusing offer, but their explanation was that people who paid for something should have the option to not see chucks 'scary neurodivergence aid'. i tried to wrap my head around WHY they would make a distinction. maybe the exchange of money (rather than time) causes some kind of philosophical adjustment that i just cant grasp?
i wonder, would the author who wears a niqab ALSO be banned from the paid panels? i hope not
my answers trotted up short until i investigated deeper and found this quick moment from one of the TLA help videos. while some events DO require additional buckaroo cash, it actually appears that THE ENTIRE CONFERENCE IS TICKETED AND COSTS MONEY.
Tumblr media
at this point i realized there is clearly no actual official policy about not covering your face (other than one from a few years ago saying that you HAVE to cover your face), and the addition of 'money' is a red herring. these excuses make no sense
PART FOUR: CLOSE THOSE GATES
it appears that my neurodivergence is 'scary' enough to get me uninvited, REGARDLESS what their disability and mask policies may say
BUT WHY? why is chucks preferred physical presentation valued SO little by the TLA that a THEORETICAL complaint is worth more? is my neurodivergent expression so awful? is my own safety as a queer activist such an afterthought?
is a pink bag with the words 'love is real' scrawled across the front REALLY going to frighten someone when the posters and pamphlets on the way into in panel would have a photo of my masked face saying THIS IS LITERALLY WHO IS ABOUT TO APPEAR BEFORE YOU.
if THAT accommodation is too much, would it really be so difficult to have someone trot out beforehand and make an announcement? to say 'there is someone on this upcoming panel who needs a mask to express this part of himself, if this makes you uncomfortable then this panel might not be for you'.
and really, i have to heckin ask, is this physical expression of my raw inner truth really so hideous and frightening that fear of making someone uncomfortable is a REAL problem?
Tumblr media
(a terrifying display of autism. apparently)
i cannot imagine what kind of precautions they need to take before a stage play featuring costumes and masks.
you MIGHT think chucks queerness and left leaning politics could be the issue with this organization, but they have had drag queens as past speakers (also featuring some GLORIOUS makeup and hair that covers almost all of their faces. VERY CURIOUS). regardless, the TLA do not seem like a conservative bunch.
if you are bisexual or an autistic person who is good at 'passing' you probably already know where this is headed, your dang spiderbuckaroo senses are tingling at FULL ALERT. i will say i do not KNOW the real reason why i was uninvited, and i do not have enough information to make any concrete statement of the real answer. there is only evidence that masks have been fine at TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION events in the past, but not much else to go on.
so the FACTS part of our discussion ends there, but i think it opens us up to talk about some very important feelings that bisexual and autistic buckaroos know well.
THIS is where we take a unfortunate, hurtful moment and turn it into a discussion. this is where we prove love is real.
as someone who is constantly doubted and put through purity tests because of my unique way, we are pushing up against a subject i know well. thats right buckaroos: we are talking GATEKEEPING
Tumblr media Tumblr media
AGAIN, i do not know if this is the answer, but someone in my position might be VERY STRONGLY INCLINED TO THINK that a few well-meaning left leaning buckaroos think i am a joke and that this is a character, and that there is something problematic about my work because i am not really a real person.
any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a neurodivergent buckaroo with an unusual visual presentation, an autistic buckaroo who conquered his chronic pain ONLY by creating this important space... but what about a FAKE autistic buckaroo?
any upstanding left leaning organization would OF COURSE allow a mask for a queer LGBTQ activist standing up for gay and trans rights against a torrent of scoundrels hunting for his legal identity. its a matter of safety... but what about a FAKE queer activist?
let me be very clear for the 100th time: i am a real person. this is not a joke. i am not playing a character. i am really autistic and bisexual. tinglers are sincere and they are not ‘so bad theyre good’. they are just good. camp damascus is not ‘my first serious book’ because my queer erotica is serious. my art is important and real.
when people tell me to unmask they often do not know WHY they want it, and of course one very good reason is innocent curiosity. but there are SOME cases where i start to get THAT feeling--that tingle all of us ‘passing’ buckaroos get when we can sense the real intent behind the poking and prodding. that is the feeling of stumbling into a gatekeepers crosshairs.
if i was to take off my pink bag, what about my face would you analyze to tell if i was REALLY queer. my eye color? my ear shape? if you learned my legal name, would you see if it sounded autistic? is my voice neurodivergent enough?
or is all of that utterly absurd? i am curious what the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION thinks.
PART FIVE: GENDERED
this will be the shortest of parts, but it has to be said. i have a very complex relationship with gender, as written about at length here and here. i understand these things can be difficult to parse for some, but i ask that you trust me when i say that the ONLY reason i have been able to talk about my gender and sexuality and learn these things about myself is because of this pink bag. this outward appearance is a direct expression and reflection of my gender journey.
if the texas library association does not care about my appearance as an expression of my autism, then i cant imagine them giving a dang about it as an expression of my gender and queerness. that being said, it is personally very important to me and i think it should be mentioned
PART SIX: SO YOU WANT TO REMOVE AN AUTISTIC QUEER AUTHOR FROM YOUR EVENT BECAUSE PEOPLE MIGHT FIND THEIR DIFFERENCES SCARY
there is a question to be asked here: how could the TLA have done this correctly?
i have one very big piece of advice i would like to shout from the rooftops. please, for the love of sweet barbara, DO ENOUGH RESEARCH to know if this appearance will be a problem and, IF SO, dont extend an invitation in the first place. unique buckaroos with different presentations are constantly left in this place of limbo because we are bombarded with careless actions like those of the TLA. before you consider extending a branch to an artist who might need more accommodations than usual, think to yourself 'CAN WE MAKE THESE ACCOMMODATIONS?'
Tumblr media
putting all of this on the shoulders of a single 'buckaroo with a difference' is exhausting. as the TLA has shown, we currently live on a timeline where a buckaroo like myself never really knows if an invite is SOLID without doing a deep dive history lesson on how often a group discriminates and against who.
i did not want to spend my whole family holiday worrying whether or not i should say something publicly or just lie down and shut my dang mouth. i had to consider HOW i should say it. i had to worry whether or not its worth standing up for myself in the face of the largest state library association in the country. i think buckaroos with differences are with me when i say: WE ARE SICK OF HAVING TO DO THIS WORK TO COVER FOR THE POOR BEHAVIOR OF LARGE ORGANIZATIONS WHO TREAT US BADLY
another option would just be to use kindness and common sense and happily accommodate artists with unique presentations to your conventions
PART SEVEN: LOVE IS STILL REAL
i would like to close by saying THANK YOU to my publisher nightfire and editor kelly for standing up for me. they immediately stood firm and had my back. they are the real dang deal. THANK YOU to my management and agent buds dongwon and gino for trotting along beside me. THANK YOU to the folks at the texas library association who initially invited chuck with goodness in their heart and then likely got bowled over by someone else, and maybe even got knocked to the side by a big closing gate.
i hope there are librarians in texas who are still interested in carrying BURY YOUR GAYS when it comes out (which is ironically about someone who creates a space through art to express their queerness where they cant otherwise). libraries prove love is real and what they do IS SO IMPORTANT. it was SO IMPORTANT TO ME as a young buckaroo and i cannot thank you enough. i am not sure if me writing all of this will hurt my sales in some way, but this opportunity to speak about the reality of disability awareness and queer gatekeeping is too important to stay silent. (if you have not already preordered BURY YOUR GAYS then give it a preorder to make up for some texas library losses i guess.)
which leads me to my final thank you. THANK YOU to the buckaroos reading this. yes YOU. i am in the position to stand up and speak my mind against scoundrel forces ONLY because i have the might of you buckaroos by my side. the buckaroo trot is ALL OF OUR TROT and we are ALL HERE TO PROVE LOVE. i cannot tell you how much i appreciate the way you have created a space for me to express these important parts of myself. you have seen this pink mask over my face and saying YES, I ACCEPT YOU, you have literally saved my life. for that i am so thankful.
if you are UPSET by what youve read here, then turn it into something positive. you can support autistic creators, or make a donation to the AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK
and besides WHO IS REALLY MISSING OUT? this is what it looks like when you invite the worlds greatest author chuck tingle to your event and treat their identity as valid. WE HAVE A DANG GOOD TIME
youtube
KEEP TROTTING INTO THE FUTURE. KEEP KICKING DOWN GATES WHEREVER THEY MAY BE. KEEP PROVING LOVE IS REAL AND PROVING IT TOGETHER. lets go buckaroos - chuck
UPDATE AN HOUR AFTER POSTING:
true buckaroo TJ KLUNE was set to be another author on panel chuck was removed from and has informed me he has now chosen to decline his invitation in support and solidarity with chuck. i am so deeply moved by this. thank you from bottom of heart buckaroo
Tumblr media
to be very clear TJ has a huge platform and DOES NOT NEED TO DO THIS. these conferences are great for book sales and he is taking a hit out of pure solidarity. this is queer buckaroos standing up for eachother. i am floored by this kindness and love
please consider checking out his books if they are not already covering your dang bookshelf. chuck blurbed IN THE LIVES OF PUPPETS and i was blown away i heckin loved it
MOST RECENT UPDATE:
here is more
10K notes · View notes
chucklechampion · 6 months
Text
evening dedicated to The Horrors
#i just need to fucking vent man#i cannot fucking live like this anymore#i still dont have the tags for my car and its almost been a year#a whole year where i didnt go ANYWHERE but work and home and sometimes special occasions when i felt i could risk it#and the daily agonizing fear of being pulled over again and getting a ticket that i cant afford because i cant afford to pay for my tags#ive gotten one of those smart watches that can track your heart rate and stress and im genuinely developing a heart problem from stress#when i was driving home tonight i think i mightve had an arrhythmia which was a scary feeling#im going off of caffiene from here on out because im starting to be afraid that i might have a heart attack#im twenty fucking five years old and im so stressed and scared about money that im afraid of a heart attack#i miss being able to go and do things and just get out of my generally shitty house#i feel like i would be a totally different person if this was just finally taken care of#someone who doesnt feel like they need to hospitalize themselves because the neverending stress is making you suicidal#because it feels like it’ll never end and i’ll be scared and hurting forever#because how the fuck am i gonna get almost $2000 when im going through a garnishment#like i can barely afford to pay all my billa#fuck i CANT even pay my bills my mom is covering my phone bill this month#because i’d have to choose between car insurance or a phone#and god for fucking bid i ever lose my insurance#the level of fear i would have just trying to get to and from work would kill me#and the longer this goes on the more i wonder if that might actually happen#im smoking way more because im stressed. i cant sleep because im stressed. i cant eat because im stressed.#all things that preclude some pretty serious cardiovascular problems#i have a doctors appointment on tuesday to discuss my heart#im nervous for it but who knows#i have had an exceptionally high heart rate but maybe the arrythimia was just psychosomatic#my money troubles have completely stopped my life and i cant see a way out#i feel like im drowning and like im going clinically insane#i was outside sitting in our carport and a cop drove by and i was so terrified i spent 10 minutes hiding in an empty room#looking through the blinds to see if they were gonna come do something#i am so afraid that i have considered quitting my job because the commute is so stressful and upsetting
1 note · View note
mrsbarnesblog · 5 months
Text
Push him
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR manager! Reader
Summary: When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you.
Word count: 6.8K
Warnings: smut, bucky is obsessed with your short skirts, bucky is recovering, grumpy x sunshine, good friend natasha romanoff, office sex, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names
Author's note: ‼️so if you haven't seen my previous post, this is my new account. you may have seen this work on my old one (@inmyicyworld) but it was terminated and @support doesn't respond to me. please, follow and share this work. I'm going to reupload all of my old fanfics and hope to get your support ❤️
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The work at the Avengers Tower wasn’t what you expected it to be. Tony Stark found you while you were working for another company a little bit more than a month ago. He was amazed by the way you were dealing with problems, by your charisma, and by your ability to find a common language with everyone. That’s how he knew that he had to have you as his partner and a part of the team.
The next day, you got a call directly from Tony, asking you to quit your job and accept his offer to work as Avenger’s PR manager. It would be an understatement to say that your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard your salary.
He said that you were totally worth it and that working with a group of such different people was not easy, but he was sure that you would be perfect at this. So on that exact day, you decided to take a risk and accept the challenge.
One thing that you hated about your previous job was the strict dress code. It was simply far from your style because you hated wearing the same basic and boring clothes every day. Tony said that it was the last thing that he cared about, and in that building, no one was obligated to wear certain clothes.
You knew that it was your lucky ticket.
He was actually really friendly and funny in person. You talked a lot during your first day while he was showing you all the necessary places in the tower: your office, his lab, common rooms and kitchens, avenger’s rooms, and even a beautiful garden on the roof. By the way, Tony allowed you to decorate your office however you wanted and gave you the number of the person who was responsible for this.
In short, it was perfect.
You were giddy with excitement on your first actual day of work. According to the plan, you had to meet with the Avengers and then arrange a few meetings for Tony.
It felt like you spent hours before your mirror deciding what to wear. Your whole room was a mess, and when you finally completed your look, which consisted of a short black skirt, beige long sleeve and a brown leather jacket on top, it was already time to go.
Everyone in the room heard you before they saw you because of the sound of your heels clicking on the wood floor.
“Don’t tell me that this is our PR manager, Stark.” Black Widow looked you up and down with a smirk on her face. “You look good, hun. Finally, someone with a taste in this boring group of losers, besides me and Wanda, of course.”
“Hi.” You nicely smiled, not ready to get a compliment as soon as you stepped into the room.
“Ohh, she’s also the sweet one.” Another red-headed woman, Wanda, said with a smile.
“You both, shut up.” Tony stood up from the armchair with a pack of chips in one hand and threw the other one over your shoulder. “Want some?” He asked you, showing the food, but you slightly shook your head. “Whatever… Now, you all listen here, this is Y/N; she’s our new PR manager. I stole her from someone because she’s incredibly smart and good at her job. Starting from this moment, she’s going to cover up your asses and organize all this stupid media stuff.” You blushed at his words but were still silent. “So, this is Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Bucky, and Th—wait, you already know them, right?”
“Yeah, of course I do.” You chuckled. “By the way, it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope we can work together, and I will have a chance to be helpful.” You took a look at all the Avengers in the room, and everyone looked at you with a smile except one person, whose eyes sent shivers down your spine.
When you looked at Bucky, you saw that his eyes were scanning your body with an unreadable expression, and you suddenly felt really weird in your short skirt. Your eyes met, and his famous death stare was really quite scary. He didn’t like you? You two were staring at each other for a few seconds, and you believe that the rest of the team noticed it because Steve loudly cleared his throat to get your attention.
He asked you a few questions about you, and Clint and Sam made a few jokes. Everything was fine as you all chatted for a little bit until Tony said that everyone should get ready for tomorrow’s mission, and you too have a lot to do.
You went back to your office only with the thought that, during this whole time, Bucky was staring at you like he wanted to burn a hole in your head.
Tumblr media
Later that day, Bucky was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of already-cold coffee while Steve was making himself dinner. It was quiet besides the sound of the cooking food, or at least Bucky didn’t listen to Steve’s words because he was too deep in his thoughts.
Well, he was mostly thinking about you and his mixed feelings about this interaction. As soon as you walked into the room, you had his whole attention. He couldn’t help but stare at your body, at your open legs, and at your smiley face. He knew that he sounded like a total creep and that it was inappropriate to look at other people this way, but he had never seen women dress this way. Was it normal right now? Was it new fashion trends or something? The only women that he had been interacting with for the past few years were women from Wakanda, and in the tower it was mostly Nat and Wanda, and he had never seen them dress like that. Or, at least, he just didn’t care enough to notice it.
When he saw you today, he felt something in him, and he didn’t like that feeling. It was something new, something that he had never experienced before, but his body became tense and his stomach tightened. It was weird.
“What, you're still trying to process her?” He was distracted from his thoughts by Sam, who came to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Bucky looked at him and furrowed his brows when he saw a shitty smirk.
“What the fuck are you talking about? And why are you smiling like an idiot?” Bucky growled.
“Because you’re thinking about Y/N.” His words caught Steve’s attention, and he came closer.
“That’s why you two were staring at each other like that?” Steve said this while drying his hands with a towel. “Do you like her? I think she seems cute.”
“No, I don’t. She just looks... different.”
“Oh, the old man got excited by the beautiful woman and her short skirt.” Sam’s smile got even wider as he started teasing Bucky. “You know, I wanted to ask her out, but I can take a step back if you like her.” He leaned on the table so he could get under Bucky’s skin even more.
“I do not like her.”
“So you’re okay if I ask her out? Maybe I should go to her office right now.” Sam pretended like he was really thinking about this.
“Sam...” Steve said.
“You both are just getting on my fucking nerves.” Bucky’s chair almost fell to the floor when he angrily stood up. “Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care about you or her.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, and Sam started to laugh out loud.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Steve shook his head like a disappointed mother whose kids always fight.
“That was fun, and maybe it’ll push him to ask her out. She’s hot, but not my type; I’m just trying to help this idiot.”
Tumblr media
You have been working with the Avengers for over a month now. This work was literally a dream from any angle. You were making a lot of money, doing the job that you really liked, and found a lot of close friends.
Almost everyone on the team was very close to you. Natasha and Wanda were particularly your best friends. Sam was the funniest person you’ve ever met, and he always found time to tease you or to make a compliment. Bruce and Clint were like your uncles—a little bit old and annoying, but always with a piece of advice for you. A few times, you and Steve met at the gym when you came to work too early, so he was happy to train with you. Who would’ve thought that Captain America himself would teach you how to throw a punch?
The only pain in your ass was Bucky Barnes. Well, to be fair, he didn’t do anything. You’re not even sure that you heard his voice. He was always just staring. Any time that you came to the room and he was there, you either saw him from the corner of your eyes or felt his burning gaze on your back.
To this day, you had no problems with your job. You organized a few interviews for Tony and Steve, talked to the newspapers and magazines, and held some meetings, but right now, sitting on your white chair, you felt weirdly nervous.
Bucky had to come here any minute to talk about a recent accident. Apparently, he almost knocked out someone on the street. All the press and news sources were taking advantage of the situation and using loud headlines to cast a shadow on Bucky and get more views. “The Winter Soldier is back?”. “The Winter Soldier almost killed an innocent man on the street.”
It has been the biggest topic on the internet for the past few hours. Most of the people were furious and wrote too many inappropriate and rude things. So you asked FRIDAY to call Bucky so you could know the whole situation and give comments to the press as soon as possible.
You started thinking about what you should do, or, to be more honest, how to behave around Bucky, because a few days ago two red-headed women that you now considered your best friends assured you that he is in love with you and just doesn't know what to do with it.
You told them everything about his weird actions—that he always looked at you, checked your clothes, and stayed silent. Natasha and Wanda just looked at each other with smirks on their faces.
“Why are you looking at each other like that?” You arched an eyebrow and crossed your hands across your chest.
“Please, don't tell me that you don't understand his behavior.” Natasha looked at you and sipped her coffee.
Well, I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew the reason.”
“Honey, he lust likes you and thinks that you’re hot. You remember that he’s actually an old man, right? Women from his time didn’t dress like that, and you look really sexy.” Wanda’s words made Nat nod her head as you looked weirdly at both of them.
“That’s bullshit, Wanda. This can’t be true. I'm sure that he just doesn’t like me and thinks that I look too revealing. Or he just hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time.”
“Some time ago, I came to the kitchen at like 2 a.m. just in my lingerie because I thought everyone was asleep. Barnes was sitting there with a book, and you know what? He just said “Hi” and didn’t even look at me again while I was making a sandwich. And when he sees you, he just can’t take his eyes away and stares like an idiot.”
You stayed silent, thinking about the girls' words, because everything seemed pretty reasonable.
“And what should I do?”
“I don’t know, seduce him or something.” Natasha just casually said it, and your eyebrows flew to your hairline.
“Wait, do you like him?” Wanda asked you, and Natasha huffed like it was obvious.
“I mean… he’s beautiful. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, but Steve and Sam love him, and I trust their opinion.” You stopped trying to put together your thoughts. “To be honest, sometimes I think about the fact that he’s probably one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. When we studied history at school, all the girls fell in love with America's Boy, and I with his best friend.”
“Then don’t wait. Just give him some hints, because I swear, for the ladies’ man, he’s too slow.” Natasha’s words made you smile. “Try to get closer to him; I don’t know, flash him with your boobs and look at the reaction. Push him a little bit. He’ll break.”
The loud knock on the door almost made you jump out of your chair.
“Come in.” You said this as you stood up and fixed your white dress and cardigan.
Bucky came probably to the lightest and most cozy room in the whole tower. A lot of white and pastel colors, comfy sofa and armchairs, and paintings on the wall. And in the middle of this was you—always perfectly looking, in heels, in a too-short dress, and with a smile on your face. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the smooth skin of your legs. It’s probably so soft...
“Em– Hi.” You awkwardly stood while his eyes were scanning your body. He didn’t answer; he just nodded. “So I think that we can sit there, it’s more comfortable.” You wave your hand at the sofa with a fluffy cover on it. “Do you want anything? Tea, coffee, water, soda?” Bucky just shook his head while he was trying to comfortably sit with a frown on his face.
You deeply inhaled while trying to be a professional. You didn’t know what was wrong with this man, but his behavior started to get on your nerves.
“Bucky, we can’t work together if you keep ignoring me. You can say if you don’t like something, because I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone.” You sat across from him and crossed your legs.
“I don’t know what I should say.” His deep voice filled the room. Bucky took a pillow that was lying near him and started playing with the fringe. “I feel weird when I’m around you, and I don’t like it. I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have.” His eyes scanned your body once again, and you wondered if he was talking about what you thought.
“Can I do something to change it?”
“No.” He deeply inhaled. “It’s my own problem, and it’s not your job to try to fix it. Anyway, why am I here?”
“I think you know why. I need to ask you about the recent incident because I have a meeting with the press in less than an hour, and I have to give them a good reason why you did that. People didn’t take all that information too well.” You saw that Bucky sadly smiled and looked you directly in the eyes, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “So, tell me what’s happened.”
“You know that whatever you say won’t change people’s opinions about me, right? No one forgave me, and they’re still looking for a chance to call me a murderer.” He tried to hide behind a smile, but you saw everything written in his eyes. Bucky hurt himself with his own words.
“I understand how you feel about this whole situation, but we should address all those rumors because things might get worse.” You leaned on your knees with your hands, and Bucky’s eyes immediately fell on your boobs.
Push him a little bit. He’ll break.
You tried to hold back a smirk.
“Fuck.” He mumbled. “ I– um– I was walking from the coffee shop to the tower. It was another busy street with hundreds of people, but I still didn’t expect someone to touch me. That man jumped on my back or something, and my instincts just worked. I threw him over myself on the ground and put a hand on his throat. Turned out he wanted to take a picture. But I panicked because there are many people who want to take revenge and who might want to do it literally any second. I’m always ready for this.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but you could hear the pain in his voice.
You felt deeply sorry for the man before you. Even if he was cold and acted weird around you, you knew that it was his way to protect himself. After everything he came through, you couldn’t blame him.
“Do you still go to the therapist?” You gently asked.
“Yes, two times a week.” Bucky nervously ran his right hand through his hair while still holding your pillow in the metal one.
“Okay, that’s good; I can work with this information.” You nodded and reached for your journal on the coffee table. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky. I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to convince people that it was not your fault, okay?”
“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stood up, carefully putting your pillow in its place, and left your office without another word, while you were sitting there with a smile.
Maybe the girls were right.
Tumblr media
After that day, everything between you and Bucky became even weirder. Yes, he wasn’t totally silent now, and you’ve got a few “Hi”, but his stares felt different.
It was like you two were playing some kind of game. Since you knew that he didn’t actually hate you, you tried to do as Natasha and Wanda said—get his attention and push more. And God, you loved that game.
Almost every day you found an opportunity or excuse to see him in common rooms or in the corridors of the Tower, and you made sure that Bucky noticed you. You wore tighter clothes, walked right past him, and looked at him with a smile. You knew that it was working because a few times Bucky just suddenly left the room while he was mumbling something.
It was almost 8 p.m., but you were still working on schedule for the next week. There was some kind of charity event, and Tony required you to convince everyone to go there because more Avengers can attract more sponsors and money. As always, Bucky was the one who refused to go there. He simply sees no reason for him to be there, and he doesn’t want to be there alone because he knows that Captain America will be the biggest star, and such a social butterfly as Sam will leave him in a second.
You decided that it would be better to talk to Bucky in person, but you didn’t want to lose a chance to get his attention, so you went by yourself instead of asking FRIDAY.
You looked in the small mirror to check your makeup and hair and went straight to where you knew Bucky was spending his evening. As you walked in a dark room filled with only light from the TV, you saw Sam and Steve sitting on the couch and Bucky on the armchair near them. You quietly walk to him and just casually sit on the armrest. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and you heard that the chewing from the boys stopped. Bucky had no choice but to put his metal arm on your lower back.
“I need you in my office. You have to talk about the next charity event. Could you please give me some of your time?” You quietly asked and lowered yourself closer to him. Bucky was just staring at you for a few seconds, but then slightly nodded.
Bucky followed you to your office, not without getting smirks from the boys,and then stood near your table with his hands in his pockets.
“Don’t you want to sit?” You said and stepped closer to him.
“No.”
“Um– okay.” You took the papers from your table and stood in front of Bucky. “So, you know that there is going to be a charity event, and I’m responsible for getting all the Avengers there, and you are one of them.”
“I’m not going, I already told Tony.” He just shrugged.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not needed there. I’m not an actual hero, people have no interest in me, especially when there will be Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, you know? Plus, I have no interest in sitting alone the whole night.” You saw that Bucky tried to be casual about it, but he just put salt on his own wound.
“Don’t say that, Bucky. There are people who want to see you there, you have a lot of fans. You know, I’m going there too, so if you don't mind, we can–”
“What game are you playing with me?” He interrupted you. Bucky straightened his shoulders, which made him look even bigger, and started moving closer to you, putting you in a trap between him and your desk.
“W– what do you mean?” You couldn't control your body as you started to tremble a little bit from the power that this man had. As soon as you bumped into the table, his hands landed on both sides of you, and his face was right in front of yours.
“Don’t act clueless, Y/N. I see what you’re doing.” He stopped for a second, studying your face. “You know, I tried to convince myself that you do all of this by accident, but now I’m sure that you’re just playing your little game. Am I right, doll?” You two were staring at each other, and you felt almost nauseous from different emotions.
He was so fucking beautiful up close. Piercing blue eyes, pink lips, and light stubble You know why many women thought that James Barnes was charming. If he had more confidence, he would’ve been unstoppable.
Your eyes slowly shifted lower to his arms and chest as you remained silent. He was big, with well-trained muscles that were seen through the tight black t-shirt. Both arms were stretched near you, so you had a really good opportunity to look at the smooth tanned skin and beautiful dark vibranium. You felt how your lower stomach tightened just from the thought of getting those pretty hands on your body…
You were pulled out of your head by a sudden movement of Bucky’s hand, which gripped your face and pushed your lips together. He was obviously dominating in the kiss, as if he were desperate to taste you. The tip of his tongue brushed over your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily gave him. The moan came out of you when Bucky moved away and looked you in the eyes, still holding your face.
“This whole fucking time I thought that I was a creep for looking at you, but now I know that you did everything on purpose, doll.” His eyes moved between your eyes and mouth. “All these short skirts and dresses that almost showed me everything underneath it, all these innocent smiles and looks... You did it to tease me?”
“Not at first...” You mumbled. “But you were acting so weird, and girls said that you liked me and just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find out whether it was true or not.”
“Fuck, if I knew earlier that this was your plan, I would’ve bent you over the nearest surface, baby.” Bucky moved a little closer, brushing his lips over yours. “Do you know how fucking hot and gorgeous you are? I haven’t felt that way in many, many years. Just wanna kiss you and make you mine.”
“And what’s stopping you from this, Sargent?” You asked with a smile and moved your hand to the back of his neck to gently play with the baby hairs.
“You’re gonna be my death, doll face.” He mumbled before leaning closer and kissing you again.
This time, you started to touch each other's bodies. Bucky’s warm and cold hands landed on your thighs, playing with the hem of the skirt and rubbing your soft skin after he lifted you up a little bit and helped you sit on the table, staying in between your legs. Your own hands were moving up and down his broad chest, discovering all of his muscles.
“Bucky…” You whined into the kiss when his finger brushed against the edge of your already wet panties.
“Tell me.” Bucky moved away from your swollen lips and left a path of kisses down your neck. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He sucked a sensitive spot under your ear, which made you moan.
“I don’t know. Just do anything, please.” You both breathed heavily. You felt like you were too hot; your lower stomach ached, and your underwear was soaking wet. Bucky was looking at you with such lust in his eyes that you wanted him to destroy you.
“Lay back.” He ordered you as one of his hands went higher under your skirt and slid your black lace panties down your legs. You didn’t miss how Bucky shoved him into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk on his face.
You quickly followed his instructions and just threw all the papers from our table on the floor. You’ll regret it later, but now you don't care. The sudden move of Bucky's metal arm grabbed and pulled your shirt, and all the buttons scattered on the floor, making you gasp in disbelief.
“Bucky! It was expensive.”
“Sorry, I’ll buy you whatever you want, I promise. But now I need to see you all.” He growled and fell to his knees before you. “Fuck, doll, such a pretty pussy. I’m gonna make a mess with her.”
Bucky’s hands grabbed both of your legs and threw them over his shoulders. He dragged your skirt higher, not wanting to take it off of you. His head fell on your right legs as he left a few kisses on your sensitive skin.
“Bucky please! Don’t tease me!” You desperately whined.
“I need a moment to appreciate both of you. I haven’t done it since the 40's, you know that?”
You wanted to say something, but his mouth on your most delicate part of your body left you speechless and made you grab his hair. Bucky’s tongue was gentle at first, just to get a taste of you and tease you a little bit. His tongue started to play with your clit, circling it and applying different pressures to find out what made your body twitch. It looked like he was enjoying it too; you felt deep grunts escaping his mouth as he was trying to catch every drop that came out of you.
Your loud moans filled the room as Bucky found the perfect place and made motions that made you see stars. A hand in his hair tightened even more when you felt one of his fingers at your entrance.
“M-hm, so wet and tight for me.” He pulled away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers came in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were firmly glued to your pussy, which was trying to get more, and his mouth opened a little bit at the sight. “Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Bucky attacked you with his mouth again. This time he was licking your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. When the feeling of his nose touching your bundle of nerves came through your whole body, you gripped Bucky’s dark locks even harder, particularly trying to ride his face, and he had to put his metal hand on your hips so you wouldn’t move.
Your body tensed when he curled his fingers right on your g-spot, sucking your clit like a hungry man.
“Bucky—fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop!” You whined with tears running down your face.
A few more movements of his magical mouth, and you fell over the edge. Your legs tightened around his head, tingles went all over your body, and the loudest moan mixed with Bucky’s name came out of you as you were riding on the wave of your orgasm.
Bucky didn’t stop, though.
He made sure to lick every drop that came out of you, to the point that you had to beg him to stop because you were too sensitive.
“That was—“ You were trying to catch a breath. “That was the best orgasm I've ever had, oh my god. If you did it for the first time in like seventy years, I can’t imagine what you can do with practice.”
Bucky dragged you up by your neck, so you would be at the same level with him. His hand moved your hips closer to the edge of the table, and you felt how hard he was through those jeans.
“I can practice whenever you’ll allow me, doll.” He put his warm hand on your face to kiss you. The taste of your own release on his tongue made you moan.
“Need you inside of me, please.” Your hands automatically started to pull up his shirt, but he stopped you.
“We don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”
You were silent for a few seconds. “Why wouldn’t I want to take your shirt off?”
“You know, my arm and scars...”
“Do you really think that I care about it?” You left a few kisses on his cheek. “I think that your arm is hot, by the way, and I want to feel your skin on mine, Sarge.” It was enough for Bucky to pull off his shirt and stay before you half-naked.
Your hands moved to trace every muscle, every birthmark, and every scar on his chest, and you felt that this moment was so intimate, especially because of Bucky’s stare. He looked at you with such adoration and softness that you wanted to melt.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He mumbled and kissed you with even more passion.
Bucky ripped off the rest of your shirt and quickly took off your matching black bra, gripping your breasts with both hands and taking your left nipple in his hot mouth.
You dug nails into Bucky’s back as he was sucking and licking your nipples, leaving them wet in the cold air. It felt good. So fucking good—his mouth was truly amazing. But the emptiness inside of you was almost painful, and you were clenching around nothing.
“Bucky! Sarge, please, I need you.” You almost cried and dragged his head by the hair back to your mouth.
“Baby, baby, wait– “ His hot breath was touching your lips, but he stopped your hands, which were unbuckling his belt. “Baby, I don’t have a condom. Fuck, do you have one?”
“We don’t have to use it... I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” Your legs wrapped tighter around Bucky’s waist and put him closer to your naked core. He swore that he could feel your heat through his jeans and boxers.
“Fuck, I love twenty-first century... I’m clean too, can’t even catch a disease with this serum shit.”
His words were like a green light to you. You didn’t want to wait even a second more. So you just took off his pants with such speed and impatience that it made Bucky chuckle. With the last movement, all of his clothes were on the floor, and you sat on your table, frozen because of the sight before you.
Bucky’s thick and perfectly long dick was the best fucking thing that you’ve ever seen. Pink and a little bit curled to his abdomen. Your mouth watered just thinking about tasting it. Or how well he’ll stretch you out. You didn’t even notice how your mouth opened a little bit, and you unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.
“You’re gonna destroy me, Bucky.” You mumbled, to which you heard only a deep chuckle. Your eyes moved back to Bucky’s smiley face.
“I hope so.”
Two different hands landed on your thighs again, spreading and lifting them up. You both looked down at where his cock almost touched your bare folds, and the first contact made you moan loudly. Bucky took the base of his cock, giving himself a few pumps, and moved the tip up and down your pussy, moving easily because of the mixture of your juices.
You grabbed his forearm and whined at the action.
“Ready, doll?” He was trying to be tough and strong, but you saw how he nervously licked his lips, the tremble of his flesh hand, and the tension in his abdomen. But you still vigorously nodded.
It was different from everything you’ve ever experienced. He was big but tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt you. He only pushed a few inches, but you already wanted to cry from all the feelings inside of you. Pain mixed with extreme pleasure.
Bucky was trying so hard to control his motions and go slow, but God, it wasn’t easy. From the first touch of his cock, it felt like he had gone to heaven. He knew that sex was good, he remembers it, but the feeling of you and your warm body that so gracefully greeted him inside made him feral. Bucky felt such a need to kiss you that it was almost painful, especially when your swollen lips were a few inches away from his.
He leaned in closer to your lips, but it made him slip deeper into you, which made you both loudly moan into each other's mouths.
“Fuck– doll, you’re so warm and tight, oh my god.” Bucky mumbled as the grip on your hips became harder. It’ll probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care.
The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming. He was so deep and stretched you just the way that you wanted, and you almost cried from pleasure.
“Please, Bucky, please move!”
His hips slightly moved once, and it felt like his mood instantly changed. You were suddenly pushed back on your table, and your legs, still in heels, were thrown on Bucky’s shoulders. His metal hand stayed on your thigh, and the other one fell on your stomach to push your skirt higher on your waist.
“All dressed up for me, baby.” He started slowly moving, burying his cock deep inside, and then leaving only the tip to tease you. “You know how long I wanted to do that, huh? Bend you over and just fuck the shit out of you until you can’t say anything except for my name.”
“Bucky– Sarge, please go faster. Just fuck me, do whatever you want.” You were desperate, yes. But you couldn't help but beg, because you really needed him to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of you.
You reached for his hand on your stomach and interlaced your fingers together.
“If you keep calling me that, I won’t last too long, doll.” His thrusts became harder and faster as your body moved up and down on your table.
Bucky was looking at your drunk-looking face with a slightly open mouth because you couldn’t keep your moans quiet. Your hair was deshiveled, your skin glimmered with sweat, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.
“So beautiful, baby.” Bucky murmured, fucking you harder. The room was filled with loud noises from slapping skin and moans. “You love it when I talk to you like that, huh? Want me to tell you what a good girl you are?” His words definitely did something to you, and you unconsciously tightened around him. “Almost choking my cock, baby, fu-u-ck.”
“Mhm, Sargent, I’m so full of you.” You couldn’t see straight as the tip of his head pressed at the perfect spot with every thrust, it was too much and not enough at the same time.
The wet kisses on the inner side of your thigh sent shivers down your whole body when Bucky started to suck tender skin. His rough movement didn’t stop for a moment, and you knew that your orgasm was getting closer. The warm feeling in your belly slowly became bigger. It was hard for you to cum from sex, but Bucky did it so fast and without even touching your clit.
“C’mon, doll face. I feel ‘ya. Feel how your perfect little pussy is squeezing me. Cum with me, baby, cum on my cock.” His movements were still rough and confident, but you felt the slightest change in the way he was looking at you, how his body trembled a little bit, and the prettiest quiet noises escaped his mouth as Bucky was coming to his own end.
You were completely lost in your pleasure, with strong arms on your body and Bucky’s hard cock that was completely destroying you, so when fingers on your clit started to move in circles, your body slightly jolted up from your table.
“Bucky, Bucky, please—ohmygod, I’m coming!” You cried out loud and grabbed the hard wood under your arms.
“O-oh, fuck, doll, cum with me, please. Yes, squeeze my cock harder, make a mess. ‘M gonna cum.” With the last few pushes of his dick inside of you and movements of the fingers, you both fell from your heights, and the room filled with loud moans of pleasure. The feeling of his hot seed on your walls almost made you faint.
Bucky fell down on your body as your leg slipped from his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped around you, and Bucky’s face nuzzled into your neck. You don’t know how long you two stayed silent, trying to catch a breath, while your hands gently rubbed Bucky’s back.
When he finally lifted himself up with a metal arm near your face on the table, the look in his eyes sent millions of butterflies to your stomach.
“I don’t even know what to say…” He chuckled and cupped your face with his right hand. “You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”
“Even when my makeup, my hair, and my clothes are completely destroyed?” You playfully arched an eyebrow and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on your hot skin.
“Well, I did it, and I’m satisfied with it. You still look so hot, especially with my dick still inside of you.”
“Bucky!”
“Sorry, sorry. But I’m serious, though. Will you let me take you on a date? Maybe yesterday for lunch or for dinner after work?” His eyes had this little bit of doubt, and you couldn’t stop your wide smile because he was really thinking that you would say “no” after that.
“I will be glad to go out with you, Buck.” You dragged his face closer and gave him the sweetest kiss you could.
Bucky moved away, gently slipping out of you, and you hissed at the empty feeling. He helped you stand up on your shaking legs and handed you your clothes.
“Fuck, you completely destroyed my clothes.” You said as you were standing in front of the mirror. “How will I go home?”
“You can stay in my room.” Bucky came closer to you and helped you make your blouse look more presentable, even without buttons.
“Really?”
“Of course, doll. Just hold your shirt in case we bump into someone in the corridor, but I think everyone is already in their rooms.” Bucky finished dressing up, and you saw your underwear sticking out of his pocket.
“Don’t you want to give me my panties?”
“Na-ah, you’ll have to walk with me dripping out of you.” He gave you a cocky smile and turned all the lights off before wrapping his arm around you and leading you into the hall.
It was completely empty, but the second that you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Bucky’s best friends looking at you. All of you were looking at each other for a few seconds before Sam started hysterically laughing.
“You owe me fifty bucks, idiot!” He said to Steve, who was as red as a tomato. “Good job, Buckaroo, but I really thought that we were gonna ask her on a date first.”
“Fuck off, Willson.” Bucky growled, protectively stepping forward to protect you from their looks.
“Okay, okay, relax, no one’s touching your girl.” He said with a cocky smile on his face. “Let’s go, Steve. You’re too innocent to look at things like this.” Sam took his friend and led him in another direction.
“Asshole.” Bucky growled.
“Everything is okay, Buck, let’s go.” You stepped closer to his room, but he was still standing in his place. “I have to take a shower. Will you come with me, or will you stand here the whole night?” You smirked.
It was everything he needed to finally get closer to you, scoop you into his arms, and carry you into his room to the sound of laughter, which soon turned into moans.
4K notes · View notes
xxbimbobunnyxx · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Cat and Mouse
(Perv!Eddie Munson x Perv!Fem Reader)
Summary: Eddie thinks you are innocent and oblivious to all the pervy things he does behind your back, but what he doesn’t know is that you’re fully aware. Not only that, but you like it, and you just might be a bit of a perv yourself. WK: 8k (idk what happened)
Warnings: Where do I even begin? This is filthy guys… Panty stealing, honestly just Eddie and Reader both taking things of each others without asking (and using them to pleasure themselves), Maybe a tiny bit of angst? Idk there’s like a second where they’re both doubting themselves but it’s solved quickly. SMUTTTT!!! Unprotected P in V, Oral (M and F receiving), overstimulation(on R), hair pulling, slightly sub!Eddie? Idk he’s just really down bad(but so is R), dirty talk but like dirty dirty. Idk what to tell y’all they’re pervs, they’re gross, this is feral. If I missed anything pls lmk!! 18+MNDI!!
A/N: Listen… idk what came over me with this one… a horny demon possessed me and wrote this.. It was fueled by my feral period brain and all the perv Eddie fics I’ve seen where Reader is innocent, which is still very hot and I love it but I’m a whore so I wanted to write something where maybe she wasn’t as innocent as Eddie thought. That’s it, that’s all I have to say, pls enjoy the filth. 😌 (also shout out to @take-everything-you-can for mentioning something about taking Eddie’s shirt, I kind of took that idea and ran a mile with it.) My Masterlist
You met Eddie a few months ago, you were working at your uncle’s comic book shop when he came in looking for some dice. He came in a few more times after that, always needing something for his campaign, or looking for a comic for one of his younger friends he told you about. He would always stay and talk to you for a while, telling you things about his life, asking about yours. Eventually he asked you if you wanted to come to one of his shows and the two of you had basically been inseparable since.
You hadn’t known him long but it didn’t take long for you to pick up on a few things. Like how his eyes would always linger on your thighs when you’d cross them on his bed in your little ruffly skirts, or how they looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he noticed you hardly ever wear a bra. You noticed he always talked to you in this way that made you seem so innocent and pure, untouched. You weren’t, but noticed he liked it, so you played into it.
You started to notice things going missing, a pair of underwear that didn’t quite make it in the dirty clothes basket, a tester vile of your perfume you had left over from before you decided it was worth buying the whole bottle, a picture of you from your stack of polaroids that was of you at the beach in your little red bikini.
So you started leaving things. Your dirty underwear on display, always at the very top of your laundry basket. A nearly empty bottle of your favorite lotion sitting next to the trash, ready to be thrown out. A picture of your tits with your forearm just barely covering your nipples at the top of the stack of Polaroids.
Each time they would be gone, and you weren’t sure at this point if he was just playing along or if he was the one that was really that naive.
The first time Eddie saw you he was convinced you were an angel. Standing behind the counter at the comic shop downtown in your little white sweater and pink skirt. When he walked up to look at the dice in the glass underneath the register he could see your white thigh high socks. You had this cute ribbon in your hair and when you spoke your voice sounded like sugarcane. You asked him if there where any sets that stood out to him, and then you surprised the hell out of him by asking if they were for D&D. You had never played, but your cousins and your uncle did, so you knew the basics.
He couldn’t stop himself from coming in after that, finding any excuse to make a trip to see his favorite girl. Maybe he would decide he needed a new mini for an NPC or offer to go get a new release of a comic for Dustin while he was at school. He always spent a while standing there talking to you, getting to know you, ogling you because he just couldn’t help himself. How could he? When you would lean over the counter giving him a perfect view of your tits through your thin shirts and hardly ever wore a bra? When you would ask him to hold the ladder steady so you could get something up high and he would get a perfect view up your skirt of whatever panties you wore that day? You were irresistible.
He learned that you weren’t only beautiful but actually really cool. You knew a lot about comics, you had read Tolkien, you loved horror movies possibly more than he did, and you were down to give any music a chance.
You also had this innocence about you, like you almost didn’t realize how much he wanted you. It just made him want you more. You’d look at him with those big round eyes and pouty lips whenever he would tease you about something. When he would compliment you outright you always made this little squeaky noise and he would notice you squirm or press your thighs together.
But once you started hanging out with him outside of work that’s when he really lost control. The first time he was at your house he saw a pair of your panties next to your laundry basket. Clearly dirty by the way he could see your juices left behind on the crotch of them. You were in the bathroom changing and he just couldn’t resist. He picked them up off the ground and held them up to his nose, inhaling your scent. He felt slightly sick but he had already gone this far so he figured he might as well just have a little taste. He licked the patch where your pussy was, and even though they had mostly dried you still tasted divine. His head spun and his cock hardened as he imagined what you would really taste like. He heard the bathroom door across the hall creak open so he quickly shoved the panties into his back pocket and sat down on your bed, one leg bent at the knee crossed over the other to try and hide the very prominent bulge in his pants.
Then there was the time you had to run down to the mailboxes to check your mail, he already had been subtly staring at the small vial of your perfume after you proudly announced to him that you decided it was your signature scent now, showing him the larger bottle. He figured you wouldn’t need the small one anymore, it was almost gone anyways. So he did what he’s been finding himself doing more and more often when he’s in your room, he pocketed it. That night he sprayed it on his pillow, holding it to his face while he had your panties wrapped around his cock. Bucking into his hand with reckless abandon, imaging what yours might feel like instead.
Then there was the day he was at your apartment before you were supposed to meet up with some of his friends for a movie night and you wanted to shower after work. He was bored, snooping around a little like he usually does when he gets a moment alone in your room, and he came across a stack of Polaroids. His heart warmed when the top one was a photo of you and him at a metal show you went to with him and the guys a few towns away.
You were always surprising him and that night was no exception, banging your head until your little ribbon was about to fall out of your hair. He fixed it for you, of course. He kept looking through the stack of photos, seeing images of you and your friends back home, some of you and your cousins, and tons of you here in Hawkins. Mostly of you and him, some with his friends that were now yours too. But when he got almost to the bottom of the stack he saw a photo of you and your friends at the beach, all smiling wide at the camera. He could only see your neck and shoulders but he could tell you were wearing a little red bikini of some kind. He eagerly flipped to the next photo, hoping there might be one that proved him right, and he was not disappointed.
This picture was just you, laying on the beach with your legs outstretched in front of you, your hands were buried in the sand and just like he thought you were wearing a bright red bikini.
The way you were leaning back on your hands was making your chest stick out and the way one of your legs was slightly bent made it so he could just see the curve of your ass from the side. Your skin glistened with what he assumed was a mixture of sunscreen and sweat and he wanted to lick it off. Your eyes were adorned with heart shaped sunglasses that matched the red of your swimsuit and if he looked close enough he could tell even your toes matched.
He felt his cock harden immediately, licking his lips at the sight. Without even really thinking he shoved the photo in the back pocket of his jeans, hoping you wouldn’t notice it missing.
You tempted him twice that day, it was just too easy when you threw your clothes on top of the basket after your shower and walked into the kitchen to get a snack. Your panties were directly on top, the crotch side up, and he could see a fresh wet patch there. He couldn’t help it, he pocketed them and excused himself to the bathroom, running his tongue along the cloth where your juices had collected. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he felt like he was going to pass out. It only took a few tugs of his cock before he was spilling cum all over his hand and exiting the bathroom with his pockets full of treasures like nothing ever happened.
About two weeks into this cat and mouse game you still weren’t sure you were just playing with yourself, you were alone in Eddie’s room. He ran out to his van to check for the tape he was looking for and you were sitting on his bed and one of his shirts was thrown haphazardly near his pillows like he had taken it off right before going to sleep. The thought came to you and before you could question it you were grabbing it and holding it up to your nose. It smelled good but not like you were expecting. You were expecting the scent of weed mixed with tobacco, apple shampoo and the aftershave you got for him after you told him the smell of the one he was using smelled like a 60 year old man’s wife picked it out for him.
It smelled like those things, but it also smelled like… you, your perfume. But there was something else. When you picked it up it felt slightly dry and maybe a little bit crunchy and upon closer inspection you noticed that it was dried cum. Did he spray your perfume onto his cum shirt? Was he smelling it while he stroked his cock? Thinking of you? The thought made your pussy pulse and your head spin, but it wasn’t what you wanted. Plus, he would definitely notice this missing. So when you heard the trailer door swing open you acted fast. Grabbing one of his discarded shirts that was on the ground near his bed and shoving it into your bag.
That night you did something you would’ve felt ashamed of if you weren’t positive Eddie’s done something similar, maybe even dirtier from the looks and smells of that shirt you found.
You wrapped Eddie’s shirt around your pillow and rode it until you came three times. As you drifted off to sleep still holding onto the pillow you wondered how much longer you could go without actually having the real thing.
Eddie was starting to wonder if you were doing this on purpose, his first indication of that being what he was currently holding in his hands. You were in the kitchen making lunch for the both of you and he was snooping around, as one does. But something caught his eye when he was walking by your shelf, something that wasn’t there before. Right on top of the stack of Polaroids he had found the bikini photo in was a picture of your tits. Your nipples were covered by your forearm, but your tits nonetheless. He was absolutely positive this hadn’t been there before, he definitely would have noticed.
Did you notice that he took the bikini photo and leave this here on purpose so he would see it? Did you take this for someone else? The thought of that made him sick to his stomach. His thoughts were bouncing around in his head like a ping pong ball trying to decide if he was reading into it, if he should take the photo or leave it. If he took it would you be mad? Would you be offended if he didn’t?
Before he could contemplate his decision further he heard your steps coming down the hall so he made a snap judgment and shoved it in his pocket. Practically launching himself onto your bed, he grabbed one of your cute frilly pillows, threw it on his lap and hoped it wouldn’t come off as suspicious.
You were walking down the hall with two bowls of Mac and cheese when you heard a shuffling sound and then the creaking of your mattress like someone just jumped on it. You smirk to yourself, wondering if Eddie saw the gift you left him.
When you open your bedroom door he’s sitting on your bed with a pillow in his lap, he flashes you a smile that is almost believable but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks. You set his bowl down on top of the pillow, and smile back.
“There you go Eds, one gourmet bowl of Kraft, as promised.” You mock curtsied, setting your own bowl down on your nightstand before walking over to your dresser under the guise of grabbing some socks. Making sure to glance as subtlety as possible at your shelf, and just as you thought, the photo was gone.
“Why thank you madam” Eddie held the spoon in his hand with his pinky out as he dramatically took a bite.
You giggled at his antics, as you grabbed the socks out of your top drawer you saw an opportunity to tease him further. You had already seen Eddie eyeing you in your little house shorts and your tank top so you pulled out your white thigh thighs, the soft fuzzy ones that you only really wore at home and made a show of putting them on.
You kept your back to him, bending over extra as you slid them slowly up your legs. You make sure to pull them up as high as they go. Leaving only a small section of skin between the top of the socks and the bottom of your shorts.
Eddie was pretty sure he was going to pass out and he thanked his past self for putting this pillow where it is right now. He watched as you pulled on your socks wondering how something as mundane as putting on fucking socks could be this sexy. When you snapped each one in place it made the meat of your thighs slightly giggle and the way they were sitting just under the curve of your ass was making it look extra juicy. He wanted to bite into it before he made his way between your thighs and spent the rest of his god damn life there.
“Fuck” He swore under his breath and hoped to god you didn’t hear him.
“Hmm? Eddie, you okay?”
You turn around and look at him with that fucking look you always gave him, like you didn’t know how sexy you were, like you didn’t know you drive him fucking crazy.
“Uh - Yeah! I was just saying fuck this is really good, I forgot how much some good ol’ kraft hits the spot.” He smiled and hoped his excuse was convincing enough, taking a large bite for good measure.
“Right? It’ll always be my favorite no matter how many homemade or restaurant kinds I’ve eaten, nothing beats it.”
You crawl onto your bed, making sure he can see down your shirt and plop down next to him on the pillows, leaning over to grab your bowl off your nightstand. Eddie can see your ass even more when your shorts ride up and he suddenly feels like he’s got to get out of here before he says or does something totally humiliating.
“I - uh - I just remembered I have to help Wayne! I told him I’d help him move his stuff into my old room since he has been so tired and hasn’t done it! So I’m - I gotta go!” He stood up swiftly, turning away from you and throwing the pillow down behind him. He didn’t turn around, just kept marching towards your door with his bowl still in hand. Only when he was practically out of your bedroom door did he turn his head to the side and address you.
“Thank you for lunch! I’ll leave the bowl in the sink! I’ll um - I’ll see you later!”
He didn’t even give you a chance to respond, ditching the bowl in the sink, grabbing his shoes not even bothering to put them on as he ran out the door to his van in only his socks.
You sat there with your mouth hanging open, eyes wide as you stared at your bedroom door wondering what the fuck just happened. Did you go too far? Were you making him uncomfortable? Maybe he changed his mind about you… Or maybe… maybe he ran home to jerk off… maybe you did go too far but not in a bad way. That’s what you hoped at least.
You bit your lip and clenched your thighs as you entertained that possibility. Was he going to go home and jerk off to your photo? Maybe with your panties held to his nose or wrapped around his cock? At least that’s what you liked to imagine he did with them, you could be wrong.
You were wrong, but not about that. Eddie normally used your panties exactly how you imagined. But not right now, no. He didn’t even make it home, hell, he barely made it out of your apartment building before he was pulling off into some trees and furiously tugging at his cock while he practically dripped drool on your photo. He made sure not to though, he couldn’t taint it like that. It had to remain in perfect condition in case this was his only chance to see your tits.
He grunted and whined, spitting down onto his cock and rubbing it around his tip with his thumb. His pace increased as he imagined it was your hand, or even better, your tits. He imagined sliding his spit slick cock between them while you sucked and licked at the head, he imagined covering your face and tits with his cum.
“FUCK!” He throws his head back against the seat, his eyes cross and he practically bites through his bottom lip as he cums all over his hand, his pants, even some on his shirt.
After he came down from his high, the reality of what he did hit him. He not only probably confused the hell out of you by running off like that without barely saying goodbye, he just jerked off in his fucking van to a photo he took from your bedroom. This was getting out of hand. He had to get himself under control, maybe some distance would help.
You hadn’t seen Eddie all week, ever since he ran out of your room like a bat out of hell and that was unusual. You guys usually saw each other a few times during the week, even if it was one of you bringing the other lunch while you were at work.
You called him a few times, either getting his voicemail or only having a brief conversation before he came up with an excuse to get off the phone. You started to wonder if you were reading things wrong after all. But that just didn’t make sense, why would he take all those things if he didn’t like you? If he didn’t want you in the desperate way you wanted him? You almost felt like you needed him.
So you decided to make a last ditch effort, no beating around the bush this time you were going to be straight forward. You grab Eddie’s shirt, your Polaroid, and your white lacy thigh highs with the little pink bows that he bashfully complimented one day.
You wrap the shirt around your pillow like you have done so many times now you’re almost ashamed. You take off your shirt and shorts before pulling on the thigh highs, leaving you in just your little white lace panties and socks.
The first photo you take is a shot from above of your tits, you can see your thong and the very top of your lace adorned thighs.
The second features your face, your eyes wide in that way you know he loves, your middle and pointer finger shoved down your throat with your lips wrapped around them. If you look close enough you can see a bit of drool dripping down between your boobs.
The third photo is a full nude, your legs spread and pussy on full display for him.
The next one is the one you’re most excited for, the one that sparked this entire plan. It’s an upshot of you from the neck down, you’re straddling the pillow that’s wrapped in Eddie’s shirt in just your socks, your free hand grabbing onto one of your tits.
The last photo is you in the same position but it’s from below, you have your fingers on your pussy, opening yourself up for him against the material of his shirt.
Satisfied with the spread, you gather them up, grab your discarded thong and remove the shirt from your pillow. You fold the panties and the photos into the shirt like they’re a gift to be unwrapped and put them in a little box. Then you write out a note.
Eddie,
if you wanted my panties… all you had to do was ask. You’ve taken all my cutest ones now. But that’s okay because I took something of yours too, I thought you might want it back.
Xoxo - Your angel.
You sign the note with the nickname he had awarded you and fold it in half, putting it on top of the shirt and then you put the lid on the box. Now all you had to do was give it to him, everyone had planned to meet at Gareth’s for a movie night tomorrow and he was supposed to pick you up. You could give it to him in the car before you get there and tell him not to open it until he gets home. It was the perfect plan. Hopefully.
Eddie was nervous on his way to pick you up for movie night, he had managed to avoid you the entire week, much to his dismay. He felt pathetic but he missed you, and even though he was still feeling guilty he was excited to see you.
He pulled into a guest parking spot in front of your building and was surprised to see you already standing there. He usually had to come in while you finished getting ready because you were perpetually running late. But you were standing there in a little white dress and a soft looking pink knit sweater, holding a little box in your arms. He figured it was some kind of baked goods, you pretty much always brought treats to every get together.
You saw him pull in and waved as you walked over, he jumped out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you.
“Hi Eddie, this is for you. But don’t open it now, open it when you get home. Okay? Promise me?”
You sounded nervous, hell, you looked nervous. What was in that box? He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the night not knowing.
“A gift? For me? Angel, you shouldn’t have.” He tried to play it cool, even though he was feeling anything but.
“I didn’t spend any money on it or anything… but I’m not giving it to you unless you promise you won’t open it until you get home later.”
“Yeah, I promise.” He smiled at you reassuringly.
You handed it to him nervously, and he took it with glee, immediately shaking it like a Christmas present.
“EDDIE!! Don’t do that, you’re never going to guess what it is so just wait, please!”
You were looking at him with this pouty look on your face and he literally would’ve said yes to murder at that moment so he agreed. You let out a breath of relief as you got into the car, now all you had to do is wait.
Movie night wasn’t awkward like you feared it might be. When Eddie picked you up he acted totally normal, like he hadn’t been ignoring you all week and you couldn’t tell if that annoyed you or not. Maybe a little. You wanted to ask him about it but you also didn’t want to make things awkward by bringing it up so you tried to act as normal as you could.
That little box in the back of Eddie’s van was in the back of your mind all night though, you couldn’t stop overthinking and second guessing your decision. You even almost went out to his van at one point to take everything out and shove it in your bag but you talked yourself out of it.
Eddie was in a similar boat, he was having fun, he was engaging and acting as normal as he could but all he could think about was what possibly could be in that box. He knows you made him promise but there are several times where he has to physically stop himself from just going out to his van to look in it.
When the last movie ends you and Eddie were both quick to gather your things and leave. Him wanting to get home as fast as possible to see what was in the box and you wanting the looming thoughts of how he might react to just be over with.
Your goodbyes were chaste, neither of you bringing up the gift you had given him. He walked you to the door like he always did but he didn’t ask to come inside and the hug he gave was much faster than the usual bear hugs he would normally give you.
Eddie sped home, he lived in a studio apartment a few miles from yours and the drive had never felt so long. He pulled into his parking spot with a screech, grabbed the box from the back and rushed inside.
He didn’t even bother to take his shoes off, throwing his jacket across the back of the couch before plopping down on one of the cushions with the box in his lap.
He took a deep breath before opening it. At the top was a note, he unfolded it and as he read it he swore all the blood from his body went directly to his cock.
Underneath the note was his shirt, his favorite Iron Maiden one he hadn’t been able to find for a few weeks.
It was folded neatly so he gently took it out of the box, it felt heavier than it should and when it was fully in his grasp he could feel that there was something inside it.
He sets it down in front of him on his coffee table so he can unfold it and his jaw drops when he sees what’s inside. A pair of your panties, a little white lace thong is sitting under a stack of Polaroids.
His hand shakes as he reaches for the photos, when he sees the first one he actually moans, and then they somehow just keep getting better. But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the second to last one.
You have his shirt wrapped around your pillow and you’re straddling it in nothing but those fucking socks, and he’s seriously going to lose his mind, especially when he sees the last photo of you in the same position, spread open for him.
It took him a second to get past the fog of lust to realize what this means. You knew. You always knew what he was doing. It all makes sense now. The way your panties were always so easy to steal, how he always happened to have the perfect view of your tits and ass, the photo. Also you took his shirt, you didn’t just take it, you put it on your fucking pillow and humped it. He hopes you did it more than once. He picks up the shirt again and he really looks at it this time, there’s little white streaks all over it, from you. He brings it to his nose and it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. Both of your scents mixed together, topped off with the sweet smell of your pussy.
His initial thought was to rip his pants off and stroke his cock until it was raw but he realized he could do better than that. He could have the real thing. He needed to see you. Now.
He didn’t even think twice about shoving everything back in the box and walking back out the door to his van. Speeding off in the direction towards your house.
You were laying in your bed trying not to let your anxiety consume you when you heard banging on your door. Your heart pounded and your mouth went dry, you knew who it was, there was no way it could be anyone but him.
You opened the door and there he was, looking absolutely feral if you might add. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out, he was breathing like he ran a mile, and his hair was all over the place. You wanted to eat him alive.
“You knew?” He held up the box you had given him earlier the night, his hands shaking.
“Yeah…” You bit your lip as you nodded. “I knew the whole time… from when you took that first pair of panties, I knew.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” He looked at you, his eyes filled with lust and confusion.
You shake your head, a smirk forming across your lips.
“Why not?” He was still panting, hands grasped tightly on the box.
“It was fun, I thought for a while there that you knew I was doing it on purpose, and then when I realized you didn’t it was almost hotter to me for some reason… I’m sorry if that’s weird.” You suddenly felt super self conscious, was he mad you didn’t say anything?
“I stole your panties, multiple pairs might I add, and you’re asking me if it’s weird that you left them out for me?” He laughed, bringing his hand up to your cheek and rubbing his thumb across it.
“I could never think you were weird angel, do you know how sexy that is? And these photos…” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Did you really…”
“Fuck my pillow with your shirt on it? Yeah.” You nodded, your face nuzzling into his palm.
“Jesus fucking christ… that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life, shit.”
He used the hand cradling your face to pull you closer, clashing your lips together in a hungry kiss. You immediately buried your fingers in his hair, like you did in all your fantasies. You wanted him closer but the box was still in between you so you broke the kiss long enough to pull him inside and discard it on your kitchen counter.
You pulled his mouth back down to yours by the collar of his shirt, running your tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately granted you access. Your hands made their way back into his hair and he gripped your hips pulling you tightly against him.
“God Eddie, I want you so fucking bad.” You moaned against his lips.
“Angel, I’ll give you anything you want after all these sweet gifts you’ve been leaving me without me even knowing… you really thought I knew?” He took your face in both your hands, running his hands down your neck and rubbing his thumbs along your jaw.
“For a while there, yeah… That’s why I left you that first picture, but then when I came back in my room and you were acting all nervous I realized you definitely didn’t know. I thought for a second I might’ve made you uncomfortable but I took the chance with the photos anyway… looks like it paid off.” You looked him up and down, biting your lip.
“Fuck yeah it did.” He pulled you into another bruising kiss that you happily returned. You stood there in your kitchen making out for what could’ve been minutes or hours, tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths and your hands mapping out each other's bodies.
You finally pulled away, breathless. You smirked at him, placing a kiss on his throat before turning around and walking towards your room. Eddie wanted to scream at the sight of your ass in your tiny little pink spandex shorts. He bit down on his fist instead, admiring you for a moment before practically running after you.
You were standing in the middle of the room with a smirk on your face that he’s never seen, one you must have been hiding from him this whole time. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive and he was going to let you.
“Tell me about your fantasies Eddie… tell me what you did with my panties, I wanna know so bad.” Your smirk turned into a little pout, giving him that fucking look. The one he knows now is all an act, but something about that just makes his dick even harder for you.
“Fuck, you really want to know? The first time I sucked on them while I jerked off and right when I was about to cum I wrapped them around my dick and came all over them.”
“Mmm… that’s what I hoped you’d do, tell me more…” You walk up to him and run your hands down his chest, hook your fingers in his front pockets and give him the look.
“I can’t believe this is happening, I - uh - I was so scared if you ever found out you’d hate me. But fuck, I never imagined you would be into it.” He put his hands on your hips and squeezed, almost like he was making sure this was real.
“Well, you better believe it honey, because I am so so into it.. please tell me more.” You lean up and press wet kisses along his neck.
“God damn.” He throws his head to the side more, granting you further access to his throat. “When I had a second pair I sucked on the newer ones and used that same pair to jerk off. Then when I got your perfume I sprayed it on my pillow so that I could smell you and taste you.”
“Mmm Eddie, that’s so hot.” You bite into his throat causing him to let out the cutest little yelp, sucking the skin into your mouth, wanting to mark him as your own.
“Then once I had the bikini photo I was able to see you too, so it was like I was surrounded by you in every way possible.”
His hands snake down your hips to grab onto your ass, the material of your shorts and the feeling of your soft skin contrasting with the calluses on his fingers.
“That day when I found that picture of your tits… and then you somehow found a way to make putting socks on one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen and you topped it off by bending over in those little shorts with your ass practically in my face? I barely made it out of your building before I pulled over and jerked off in my van like a depraved psycho.”
You moaned at that, pulling back from his neck to look him in the eyes.
“If you’re depraved… so am I.” You pull your tank top over your head and throw it on the ground behind you somewhere, followed by your shorts. Eddie seriously thinks he’s in love with you at this point because you’re not wearing a bra or panties but you are of course wearing white thigh highs. You’re standing there like every fantasy he’s ever had about you come true, but better.
“Angel, those pictures have nothing on the real thing” He grabbed onto your tits, twisting your nipples between his fingers. Using his nose to brush your hair away so he can whisper in your ear. “I need to taste you so bad, like, so bad. I need to know what the real thing tastes like.”
“Mmm fuck, yes, want that so bad.”
You lay back on your bed and spread your legs, showing him how wet you are for him. Eddie doesn’t think twice before dropping to his knees in front of your bed and throwing your legs over his shoulders. He wishes he had it in him to kiss every inch of you before tasting you but it was like someone offered him the nectar of the gods and he needed it now.
He parted your lips with his fingers before running his tongue along your slit, licking up and down with a flat tongue before shoving it as far as it could go inside you.
“Ho- holy shit! Eddie!! Fuck, your mouth is so good.” Your fingers found his hair again, tugging and the groan he lets out sends vibrations through your pussy.
“I thought your panties tasted sweet but nothing will ever taste sweeter than the real thing, oh my god baby.”
His tongue comes up to circle your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You feel his fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting his pointer and middle finger deep inside you. He curls his fingers in just the right way, he’s still sucking your clit while he runs circles around it with his tongue and you feel yourself getting close.
“I’m gonna - I’m gonna - fuckinnng cum - I’m gonna cum.” You pull his hair again and start rocking your hips against his face. You watch his eyes roll back and feel him moan into you again, knowing he’s enjoying this as much as you is what sends you over the edge. Your hips rising off the bed and your hands falling from his hair to grasp the sheets. Eddie brings his free hand down on your abdomen to hold you down as he fucks you through your high.
You try to push him off once it becomes too much but you hear, or more so feel him let out an “Uh-Uh” into your pussy. His hand that’s pinning you down doesn’t move and his fingers stay buried inside you. He’s licking and sucking on your clit like a man starved and you immediately feel another orgasm crash over you. Your entire body shakes and you let out noises you didn’t even know you can make.
When he feels you push at his head this time he lets you, looking up at you with a grin on his face, his chin and mouth covered in your juices.
“Sorry… you just tasted so good and when you came it was so hot I didn’t want to stop.” He looked awfully bashful for someone who was just eating you out like it was his fucking job.
“You’re sorry? Holy shit Eddie, I’ve never cum that hard in my entire life.”
He smiled triumphantly, you’d think just told him he won the lottery. He came up and covered his body with yours, kissing you without wiping his face. The taste of you on his tongue was intoxicating so you pulled away from the kiss and licked his lips, then his chin, and down his neck.
“Fuck, we taste so good together.” You moan.
“Holy fucking shit, you’re my dream girl.”
“Let me return the favor, I wanna taste you too, also you are wearing way too many clothes right now.” You pull at the hem of his shirt and he puts his arm behind his head to pull it off.
You’ve never seen him shirtless before and you needed a better view. You push on his shoulders until he lifts himself off of you and lays back on the bed. You throw your leg over him to straddle him, looking down at him in awe.
“Wow Eddie… you’re beautiful.”
You smile at him with that devilish little smile he’s becoming addicted to as you run your soft hands along his chest before raking your nails down his torso, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. His back arches off the bed as he lets out this sound that you want to hear him make over and over again.
You grind your hips down on his, fiddling with his belt loop and looking at him with a question in your eyes.
“Please.” Now he’s the one giving you the look and you understand why he loves it much. Those big brown eyes are wide and glassy, there’s a slight pout on his lips and even though he just ate you out so good it makes you want to sit on his face.
But there’s something you want more, something you’ve been dreaming about. So you undo his belt and jeans with deft fingers, pulling on the waistband of both his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down and when his cock pops out and hits his stomach your jaw actually drops.
You always figured Eddie was big. You caught small glimpses through his jeans when he thought he was hiding his boners better than he really was, so you had an idea. But it’s bigger than you imagined, and so so pretty. The tip red and leaking precum, each vein prominent because of how hard he was. You lick your lips and spit on your hand, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it a few times. He makes that sound again and you know you’re addicted to it now.
“Your cock is huge baby, I can’t wait to feel it stretching me out.” You spit on the head of his cock, circling your thumb around it before you lean down and take it in your mouth.
“Holy - fuckING - sh - shit!” Eddie instinctually jerks forward, his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag.
He’s about to apologize but you don’t pull off, just push his cock further down your throat until your nose is snug against the hair at the base. There’s tears coming out of the sides of your eyes and drool dripping down your chin but you’re moaning and so he can tell you’re enjoying it. You circle your tongue around his shaft a few times before pulling off.
Not for long though, you take him as far as you can without gagging and start bobbing your head up and down, your hand moving in time with whatever your mouth can't reach. Eddie is a moaning mess, he’s babbling your name in between curse words, switching between grabbing onto your hair, the sheets, and his own hair.
When you pull off his dick and bring your mouth to his balls, swirling your tongue all around his sack before sucking one into your mouth he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you. But he’s also positive that he wants to fuck you so he grabs you by your hair and pulls you off.
“Hey, I wasn’t done!” You look at him with a pout and you whine. Every time Eddie thinks he can’t possibly be anymore obsessed with you, you prove him wrong.
“Yeah but I was about to come and I want to fuck you so badly.” He’s the one whining now.
“Can I ride you?” You ask him like that’s even a question.
“Fuck yeah you can.”
You eagerly climb back up to straddle him, wasting no time lining him up with your entrance and sliding down on his cock. It’s still a stretch but you’re so wet it hardly hurts. You rock back and forth a few times once your hips are flush against yours and you moan in unison at the feeling.
“Oh sh- shit, your pussy is so fucking t- tight. Feels better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
“Yeah? Your cock is so fucking big, filling me up so good Eds.”
You start riding him hard and fast, your ass bouncing against his thighs, your tits on full display and you’re moaning his name over and over again like a prayer. He has one hand on your ass, grabbing it so hard you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise there tomorrow, and you honestly hope you do. He brings the thumb of his free hand up to your bottom lip and runs it across it.
“Suck.”
You do, happily, swirling your tongue around the digit and moaning at the feeling of having something in your mouth while your pussy is being filled too. He pulls it out and you’re about to mourn the loss but then he’s rubbing circles on your clit and fucking up into you to meet your thrusts.
He starts fucking you so fast that you can’t keep up, you put your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his flesh and just let him take you. He’s fucking you hard and fast, his cock hitting just the right spot while he continues to circle your clit.
“Eddie I’m c - close I-I’m close.” Your babbling and drooling, fucked out and on the brink of what you know is going to be a mind altering orgasm.
“Me too Angel, I need you to cum for me. Cum all over my cock just like you dreamed about when you were humping your little pillow.” His feet are flat on the mattress and he’s somehow fucking you harder than he was before. When you cum your vision goes white, pleasure jolts through your entire system and you aren’t even sure you’re on this planet anymore.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum, where do you?”
Eddie talking brings you back to earth just enough to respond, to tell him what you want.
“Inside! Eddie please inside! I want you to cum inside me so bad!” You start to meet his thrusts, he’s still rubbing your clit and you’re so sensitive you already feel another orgasm coming on.
“Oh fuck!!!” Eddie cries out as his thrusts slow down to pumps and his cum spills inside you. The feeling sends you over the edge, cumming right along with him. Your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth.
When you come down you let yourself fall onto his chest, both of you panting, your hearts pounding. You lay like that for a while, catching your breath and enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually your knees start to cramp and you slide off of him, settling at his side with your head on his chest.
“I’m gonna fuckin marry you someday.”
You laugh, even though he doesn’t sound like he’s joking.
“Yeah? I think I’d like that. Then my underwear will stop going missing because we will live in the same house.”
You both started cracking up at that.
“I’m serious though, can I have some of them back? You really did steal all my best ones…” You looked up at him and pouted, giving him the look.
“That’s not gonna work the same now that I know you’re just using it against me…”
“You sure about that?” You stick your bottom lip out further and make your eyes even wider.
“Ugh, no. You’re still not getting them back though, I’ll buy you new ones.” He brings his hand up to push your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your temple.
“Why? So you can just take those ones too?” You tease.
“Nah, I have the real thing now. I’d rather take them off you.”
Tagging the bbs: @the-unforgivenn @lokis-army-77 @gravedigginbbydoll @bettyfrommars @eddiemunson95 @melodymunson @bangaveragewhitewine
4K notes · View notes
teatreeoilll · 3 months
Text
w/c: 750 Part I - A drabble - headcanon thingy of our favorite king of red flags curses, set in a Heian-era village. i dunno anymore. | Part 2 here
Childhood!FriendSukuna who first met you as he stood at the brink of death.
"Mom, hey, mom." You tugged at her sleeve, directing her gaze at a frail boy, about seven or eight, on the verge of collapse behind the village market stall, "Can I give him an apple?" It's a bad month, she thought, glancing at the contents of her basket; this kindness might cost an empty stomach later on.
"No dear, he'll be fine." But you already ran off with an apple, your tiny legs making their way to the sickly boy.
"Here," you held the apple in front of his face, to which he narrowed his eyes, extending a scrawny arm to smack it away.
"I don't need your trash." He barked, his voice harsh as he gathered saliva in his mouth, spitting at your feet, “Peasant.”
As soon as your mother dragged you away, he picked up the apple, eating it whole.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who didn’t mind the insults the villagers threw at him while he was knee-deep in mud, plowing the fields for a cup of stale rice in the evenings.
"That brat is cursed," the whispers would grow amidst the village's council meetings, "If we stop feeding him, he'll leave."
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose malnourished limbs betrayed him as he fell face first on the rice terrace with the hot sun still ablaze on his back.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who woke up almost a day later under an unknown ceiling, fever gnawing at his head under a wet cloth.
"Mom! Mom!" You shrieked from the corner of the room, "He's awake!" and a woman came in with a warm cup of tea, the taste of which lingered on his tongue as he drifted back to sleep.
"Let me die, brat." His hoarse voice was still weak when he came back to his senses as you placed a fresh, dampened cloth over his forehead.
"My name's not 'brat,'" you informed with a scoff, "It's (Name); what's yours?"
Too ashamed to admit he didn’t know the answer, he turned away and closed his eyes.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, whose mouth hung agape when you pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead one night while muttering, 'mother told me that a kiss can heal any sickness'.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna, who disappeared as soon as he found the strength to walk again, returning to the fields only to find that the farmer's wife would no longer spare him dried-out rice when he finished a day's work.
"They should have let him die," he heard the farmer's wife proclaim through the thin walls of the cabin, "That self-righteous linen maker and her irritating daughter. That brat probably cursed them, too."
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who killed the farmer and his wife, unleashing a torrent of power he never knew resided within him; some kind of strange magic, he thought, wondering if the whispers of curses were more than the village gossip. The air hung heavy with the metallic tang of blood, and for the first time, he could breathe.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who disappeared after the crime, only to emerge a decade later, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake as he razed and burned each village in his path - laughing as he watched the terror-stricken villagers bow at his feet, crying and begging and dubbing him devil.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who spared you as the village you once called home turned to ashes around you.
"I owe no debt to you now." He announced.
Tears pooled in your eyes, and a scream escaped your lips as you broke down on your knees before him, "I should have listened," you wailed, fingers clawing at the dry dirt beneath you, "They said you were cursed," you hurled a mass of dirt at him, hitting his chest, "They said the devil came to the village the day you were born."
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who passed through the village again the next day, just to see you lying between the rubble, limbs sprawled on the dirt and ashes.
"I've extended you kindness." He said, covering the sun with his frame as he loomed over you, "Leave."
And you laughed, shaking and howling until the sides of your body started stinging, and the words came out as mere gasps; "And go where?"
"Wherever you wish."
"Home," You declared, locking eyes with his confused expression, "I want to go home."
You weren’t sure what sick thoughts ran through his mind when he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your forehead, so you smiled, his face still a mere inch away from yours; "It's my fault." you confessed, "So, the next time we meet, I'll fix it, okay?" A deadpan expression took over as you added, "I'll kill you myself."
-
1K notes · View notes
emo-batboy · 5 months
Text
Battinson Guest Starring on TV Shows
SO
For someone who holds the title of Richest Man in the World, Bruce doesn’t do a lot of traveling.
Which is to say he does a LOT of traveling, but he always tries to find a way out of it.
(Are there bat-related reasons for this? Are there people-related reasons for this? Are there anxiety-related reasons for this? Who knows?)
But partners and sponsors aren’t always going to tolerate his hermit-like tendencies. So once every month or so, Alfred wrangles Bruce into a private jet and sends him off to who knows where so he can represent the company.
Usually, it’s somewhere close on the East Coast, maybe it’s across the pond, even Asia isn’t off the table, but the rarest place to spot Bruce Wayne is actually the West Coast of the US.
One day, it is announced that Bruce Wayne will be spending two (count ‘em, 2) consecutive weeks in California with his kids for some grand business convention.
The West Coast media goes feral with the news, ESPECIALLY interviewers. And because Bruce kicks up such a fuss this time, Alfred has the gall to sign him up for FOUR TV appearances.
Here are these appearances :)
RuPaul’s Drag Race
Drag Queens, especially Drag Race all-stars, contribute to a wide variety of charities
So on a new episode, the queens are challenged to design and shoot a promotional ad for their own charity
And who better to act as a guest judge for this episode than the show’s largest benefactor, CEO of the Wayne Foundation, Bruce Wayne?!
Physically? He’s older than half of the contestants. But spiritually? He screams Baby Gay.
Fifteen minutes into the episode, Bruce is welcomed into the werkroom where he gives them pointers on their campaign. He’s in his cute little three-piece suit (Alfred’s idea) with the intention of looking put-together and knowledgeable. But that’s not the only outcome.
They all flirt with him. Everyone, single or taken. The confessionals are so thirsty.
“He’s lucky the cameras are on. Otherwise, I’d eat him up faster than a bachelorette party in a buffet line.”
“My celebrity crush is talking to me, and all I can focus on are his gorgeous eyes. How am I supposed to know what he's saying?”
Of course, they shoot their shot, but most of it is joking since they don't know he's bi yet.
“Are you single, honey?” Bruce blushes. “It’s complicated.” “Well, I’ll make it simple for you.”
We all know this man can't handle being flirted with. We saw how he froze when Selina did it. It’s like he mentally bluescreens when someone calls him a pet name.
Only THEN do they learn he's bi
One of the queens jokingly asks him, “Ever been with a man before?” thinking it would be a firm no, but Bruce says, “Actually, yes.” “Oh shit, really?” And to Bruce’s embarrassment, the whole room hears him.
The flirting is thus taken up a notch.
On the main stage, Bruce has a lot of great constructive criticism. He talks about how to find the right audience, the importance of a good slogan, and even goes on a little rant about logo design.
(You cannot convince me that Bruce hasn’t hyperfixated on the business of charity work before. Or the science of marketing. They’re his favorite business topics.)
After about three minutes of him complimenting one contestant for their Drag Library pitch, he stops himself mid-sentence and says, “Oh sorry, am I talking too much?” “No, please! Keep talking, sweetheart.” Bruce covers his face to hide his blush. “Why is everyone flirting with me?” “Baby, have you seen yourself?”
While the judges deliberate, RuPaul mentions Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent. Bruce nods along for a while then suddenly just blurts out, “Wait, does it spell ****?”
The judges pause then burst out laughing. “Oh no, we’ve traumatized him!" Bruce is blushing up a storm. “I just never thought about it like that!” “Sweet, innocent Bruce. We’re so sorry.”
It’s later revealed that Bruce offered to help some of the queens launch their charity projects through the Wayne Foundation.
It’s v cute 🥰
Nailed It!
I love Nicole Byer.
She is Mother.
In all seriousness, she’s so fucking funny and she’s personable enough to pull Bruce out of his shell a bit.
The theme for this episode is Found Family. Three pairs of family members compete together—a gay father and his adopted son, an aunt who adopted her niece, and a stepfather and stepdaughter.
Because Bruce Wayne famously adopted two children, he is invited to guest judge.
So Nicole opens the episode with a zinger, the contestants are introduced, and Bruce is welcomed onto the judge’s panel beside Nicole and Jacques.
(Yes, Bruce does speak French. Yes, Nicole makes a joke about it being hot.)
Nicole: “We were surprised you accepted our invitation, Mr. Wayne. You’re notorious for staying on the East Coast. What brought you to the Nailed It! Studio?” Bruce: “My children love this show. They always tell me I should be on it since I’m so bad at baking.” Nicole: “Really? Maybe we should do a celebrity season of Nailed It! and have you compete.” Bruce: “No, you should not.”
Nicole: “So, Bruce, I know you have a butler at home who bakes for you. But what’s the grossest thing you’ve eaten? Escargot? Bad caviar?” Bruce: “I drank olive oil straight from the bottle once.” Nicole: “…What?”
The problem for Bruce is he can’t say anything bad. It just feels mean :(
(And he would rather jump into oncoming traffic than gamble with a social interaction)
For the first challenge, the contestants make cake pops. But when Bruce tries the first one, there is a sickening crunch. Bruce’s eyes widen for a second and he slowly chews.
Nicole: “What was that? Bruce, are you okay?” Bruce, clearly struggling: “It’s…good.”
“Bruce, you can spit it out. It’s okay.” “I already swallowed it.” “Oh, you poor thing.” Bruce chokes for a second, and Nicole pats his back. “Please don’t die. We can’t afford it.”
For the big challenge, production has a surprise in store for Bruce.
Dick (9) and Jason (7) run onto the set and smother Bruce with a hug.
It’s adorable. Bruce no longer cares about paying attention, okay? His kids are here :D
The two boys read from cue cards to announce the second challenge: a three-tiered Gotcha Day cake. And as per tradition, the winner of the first challenge gets a leg-up.
This time, it’s a Helping Hands Button. When they hit the button, Dick and Jason will run over and help them for three minutes. (While being supervised, of course.)
As the contestants bake, Nicole says hello to Dick and Jason, who are clambering all over Bruce like a jungle gym. They both shake her hand and talk about how they love the show.
Nicole looks pointedly at the two empty chairs beside Bruce. “You know, we brought these chairs for you two to sit in.” Dick, on Bruce’s shoulders: “We’re fine, Ms. Byer!” Nicole: “Ms. Byer? Oh, you’re a cutie, aren’t you?”
Just ten minutes before the challenge is over, the Helping Hands button is pressed, and Dick and Jason are given stools so they can help the aunt and niece stack their cake tiers.
Two minutes in, the aunt instructs them to let go of the cake. But the moment Jason pulls his hands away, the cake topples over and covers him in frosting. Jason, whispering: “Oh f*ck.” Bruce: “Jason!” Jason: “I didn’t say that! Dick did!” Nicole: *cackling as Bruce buried his face in his hands*
Jason gets cleaned up, and Dick helps them stack what can still be salvaged.
When Wes brings out the trophy, he’s dressed as Batman. Dick and Jason gets a kick out of that.
Celebrity Family Feud
Bruce was invited to the show after his SNL skit went viral a few months ago
This episode, the teams are split up by cities they grew up in. Gotham v. Star City. Naturally, his team is playing for the Wayne Foundation.
It’s a pretty odd cast of people, most of them having moved to LA or Hollywood. Bruce is the only one to still live in Gotham.
They have fun, though, despite their limited common ground. The audience has a few good laughs.
(Some at Bruce's expense)
Harvey: You're a very wealthy man, Mr. Wayne. What do you really do in that tower all day? Bruce: I, uh…business? Harvey: …You business. Bruce: ……Wait-
All in good fun. Bruce just vibes in his little corner until he needs to answer a question. It's pretty chill.
For exactly half of the episode.
Then it happens.
Steve Harvey takes two people from each team up to the buzzer and says, “We asked 100 people: Name something your parents always told you as a kid.”
What the production failed to consider is how this particular question might be a sensitive topic for some contestants.
Bruce’s team gets the question, and Steve saunters up to Bruce, completely oblivious.
“Alright, Bruce Wayne!” Bruce nods awkwardly. “Hi, Steve.” “Bruce, what’s wrong? You’re looking a bit uncomfortable.” “…I don’t like this question, Steve.” “Why not?” Bruce just gives him a desperate look, and it clicks. “Oh! Oh my gosh!”
Let’s be real. Bruce is awkward enough, but Steve Harvey cannot save an awkward moment for his life either.
But he tries his best anyway and asks, “Are you okay with answering this question, or would you like to pass?” Bruce nods frantically. “I can answer. ‘I love you.’” “I love you too, Mr. Wayne.” “No, uh, my answer is ‘I love you.’” “Oh! That’s a good one.”
Thankfully, the audience erupts in laughter. That little interaction cuts the tension, and Bruce’s answer ends up on the board.
And by god, the memes
“I love you too, Mr. Wayne” is the new “Enjoy your meal.” “You too.”
The audio clip of “I don’t like this question, Steve” goes viral on TikTok
Someone gets a pic of Bruce and Steve looking at each other with palpable fear in their eyes, and it makes its rounds all over Twitter
10/10 never again
Running Wild with Bear Grylls
Now this is the most challenging. Not because it’s difficult, of course. But because Bruce has to look stupid enough to maintain his Brucie Wayne persona but smart enough to keep himself safe.
For this episode, Bear takes Bruce to the California desert.
“How much do you know about survival, Bruce?” Bear asks. Bruce nods carefully. “I did some survival training once with a friend from boarding school.” “Oh really, how did you do?” “Fine, I think.”
This is, of course, his way of saying I trained with a league of assassins for years, but Bear can’t know that! And that’s how most of the episode goes.
Thank god Bruce's fear of being caught is mistaken for being scared of the physical challenge because every time Bear points out how well he’s doing, he breaks into a sweat.
Bear: For a businessman, you’re surprisingly fit. Bruce, sweating bullets: Oh, this is all just for show.
Bear: Wow, you’re a natural. Are you sure you’ve never set up a zip-line before? Bruce, gripping his equipment so tight he gets rope burn: I think it’s just the survival instincts.
Of course, he pretends to be out of breath a few times. The Drama.
Bruce, pretending to slip and fall: Ouch! Who knew the outdoors were so dangerous? Bear, you are crazy. Bruce, internally: How much longer are we doing this?
Bruce being a vegetarian is actually a point of contention. You see, Bear always makes their celebrity guests do something crazy for food like skin a snake or eat a mouse. Scavenging for berries just doesn’t grab the audience’s attention.
But do you know what is vegetarian?
Bear: Now, in extreme cases of survival, it’s not rare for humans to resort to drinking their own pee. That’s what we’ll be doing in a moment. Are you up for it? Bruce, visibly repulsed: I’ve had Gotham tap water. I’ll be fine.
How on God’s Green Earth did Alfred convince him to do this?
To get to the extraction point, Bear takes Bruce down a cliffside.
Bear shows Bruce the meticulous process of properly belaying from the top of a cliff, and Bruce, who has done this over 100 times is like, “Wow that’s so dangerous :( Will we be okay?”
He really tries to ramp up his acting skills this time.
(Little does he know that’s not necessary.)
Bruce goes down first as Bear belays with a cameraman filming from the top. Halfway down, Bruce hears a scuffle, and the cameraman yells, “F*ck!”
Bruce looks up, arms already out for protection, and he sees a small disk falling towards him. It’s the lens cap. He catches it on instinct.
For a second, he thinks, “Shit, was that too skilled? That’s not enough to make people think I’m Batman, right? I just caught it in midair while dangling from a cliff. That’s totally not weird and suspicious. Normal people do that—“
Then Bear yells, “Bruce, drop it!” Bruce looks up at Bear, confused. “Why?” “There's a scorpion!” That’s when Bruce looks at the lens cap and sees a black scorpion perched on top with its tail ready to strike.
They don’t have those in Gotham.
Bruce jumps in his harness and flings the cap at the rocky cliffside. He hears a crunch, and the scorpion and cap tumble to the ground. Bruce frowns. Can a scorpion survive that drop?
“You just killed a scorpion, mate!” Bear cries. Bruce looks up in horror. “I killed it?!” “Hell yeah!” Bruce’s face falls. “No!”
Because oh. shit.
Bruce just killed something. The sad, orphaned vegetarian just killed a scorpion.
Bruce has a meltdown.
He didn’t mean to kill it!!!! Oh no, he just killed an innocent little creature. Yeah, he punches people for fun sometimes, and he definitely put a few violent criminals in the hospital, but he’s never committed MURDER!!
This poor little scorpion died due to his own negligence, and he feels so so so bad about it.
Bruce is a mess as he climbs the rest of the way down.
Bruce, cradling the scorpion’s body: I don’t know how to perform CPR on a scorpion! Bear: Bruce, you took its head clean off. Bruce: *sad noises*
Legit inconsolable. To him, it’s like he just murdered a puppy
Once they're out, Bear is trying to cheer him up. Bless him.
Bear: We’ve conquered the wild! Haven’t we, Bruce? Bruce, head between his legs, still mourning the scorpion: I’m never going outside again.
Yeah, no one’s going to think he’s Batman after that.
And that's all four of Bruce's TV appearances from the West Coast :) Dick and Jason never let him live any of it down. Alfred is almost sorry. (He is not sorry.)
Let me know your thoughts! What other TV shows do you think Battinson would appear on as a guest?
Okie dokie :D Love y'all! Have a good day <3
2K notes · View notes
sweatervest-obsessed · 3 months
Text
Hangovers and Hickeys
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
WC: no idea rn lmao probably like 700
A/N: some Spence content before the new year (on the western calendar). Hope you all get to enjoy the day!
Tumblr media
“Good morning sunshine.”
You winced at the sheer volume of his voice. “If I could, id shove you off of the roof Derek Morgan.”
“Fun night?”
You snorted and finally lifted your head off of the desk. “You should be a profiler.”
That caused Derek to laugh, which made you wince and close your eyes. The sunglasses perched on your nose were supposed to be helping. They weren’t.
“That’s a nice hickey you got there.”
You grunted in response and tried to adjust your sweater collar so it would cover the hickey you missed this morning when you didn’t look in the mirror. You had basically rolled out of bed, and into your car to make sure you got to work on time.
“Who gave it to you?” “Why don’t you use your super duper profiling skills to deduce it or whatever Sherlock shit you wanna do.”
Derek snorted and shook his head. ”or you could just….tell me.”
“Don’t worry about it Derek.” You grumbled.
When Derek realized he wasn’t going to get any answers out of you about it, he decided he was going to change tactics.
“Moving on from Boy Wonder?” It was no secret that you had a crush on a certain nerdy doctor. And so Derek tried to use this knowledge to his advantage.
You crossed your arms and just raised your eyebrows. “I’m not dignifying that with a response,”
“Pretty sure that was my answer.” He chuckled, sitting down in his chair and swiveling to look at you.
When you decided to just ignore Derek, and face your desk, he piped up again. “Where is he anyways?” “No idea.”
It was like he was waiting for his cue from you. Spencer pushed open the doors to the bull pen and strolled in. He had his purple scarf around his neck, over his new coat that Henry (JJ) had gotten him for Christmas. It was a beautiful grey pea coat that kept him warm during these freezing winter months. Spender was carrying a tray with two coffees on it and what seemed like a bag from McDonalds, which seemed to be for you, since he was headed in your direction.
The smell of the food caused you to groan with joy and smile at the man walking towards you.
“My knight in shining armor.” You muttered as he placed the whole tray in front of you. You placed a kiss on his cheek hasilty, causing him to blush a little.
“I got hashbrowns from both McDonald’s and Dunkin’, a little smorgasbord of grease for your pallet.” He whispered before taking one of the cups out of the tray.
“I’m going to marry you Doctor Spencer Reid.” You muttered, digging into the bag and pulling out one of the McDonald’s hash browns and biting into it. The groan you let out leaned a little on the pornographic side, which made Derek raise his eyebrows at the sound you let out, and then at tinge of pink on Spencer’s cheeks.
You continued eating, clueless about the silent interrogation happening to your left, enjoying every single bite and sip of your hangover cure.
“Derek I can hear you thinking and it’s making my head throb.”
Derek’s eyes snapped back to you, as your figure swiveled in the chair to face him, casually munching on some of the fries, in a completely different mood then from two minutes ago before Spencer had walked in the room.
“Sorry your highness. I’m just curious as to why Boy Genius here is bringing you hangover cures.”
“Well it’s his fault I’m this fucked up so he owes me.” You grumbled, swiveling around in your chair to face your desk. You pulled your lap top out of your canvas bag and started to set up for your work day.
“Wha-how is it his fault.”
That’s when Spencer turned bright red and tried to change the conversation, or at least get out of it. “I—well it’s not…I….hotch is…”
Spencer basically ran across the bullpen and up the stairs to Hotch’s office, avoiding the conversation he almost just had.
“I don’t think you wanna know.” You smirked and bit into the muffin from Dunks that Spencer had got you, not looking at the man behind you.
“I’m starting to think that too.” His eyes narrowed and he looked between where Spencer had run off to, and you.
Something was going on between the two of you, and Derek Morgan was going to figure it out.
2K notes · View notes
fayesia · 4 months
Note
Hi, I had an idea for mike schmidt. Imagine Mike is doing No Nut November.
Streak — Mike Schmidt x reader
Tumblr media
a/n: OMG this is such a good idea ty for the request. I will definitely need to write more on this, maybe some blurbs or even this idea for other characters lmk what u guys think!!
You and Mike lay in bed on the night of halloween, cuddled up next to each other after multiple rounds of intense sex.
“guess we can’t do this for a month then?”
“you know how it is in November honey, gotta keep the streak up”
Mike liked to boast about his numerous year streak of lasting through No Nut November. You liked to laugh merely at the fact that he had this streak because he never had a girlfriend until he met you. He was a virgin before that, which you knew after your first night of intimacy lasting around 2 minutes with lots of laughs.
This year would be the first No Nut November where he actually had a girlfriend…and you were gonna make sure he broke that ‘streak’.
On November 1st Mike woke up and saw you get out of bed completely bare walking around to get your things for a shower. You slowly bent over reaching for clothes that flew from last nights frantic events, smirking as you heard a loud groan come from behind you. The large lump under the thin covers said all it needed to about how easy this plan was going to be.
During breakfast you cooked him some pancakes wearing nothing but some lace panties and an apron. Leaning over his shoulder you place the food on his plate, landing soft kisses along his neck while your breast pushed against his back.
“god you’re killing me over here baby, is this cause of my streak? ..come on you know i’m gonna do this”
‘not for long’ you thought.
It been 3 days since the 1st of November and after a long day at work Mike returns home ready for a night of relaxation, walking through the door he’s shocked at the sight of you. Lounging on the couch in his favourite lingerie a simple silk robe covering you.
you greet him at the door guiding him to the dining table where a whole meal has been cooked, but Mikes not hungry for food anymore. His eyes darken as you start piling his plate with food, the movements loosening the robes knot, revealing all your glory hidden underneath.
Abruptly pushing his chair back Mike grabs your hips pulling you down to straddle his thigh. His lips press hard against your own, his tongue entering and fighting a losing battle with yours as he dominates you. He leaves kisses down you neck roughly marking and nipping at the tops of your breast. “fuck this challenge” he growls against your skin sliding your robe off and unclipping your bra. He goes absolutely feral practically mauling your breast, his mouth is everywhere and his tongue soothes the stings after he bites at your nipples. moaning at the sensations you grind your hot core against his thigh. you moan into his mouth as his hands guide your hips to rutt on his thigh. “mm yeah baby just like that, fuck make a mess” looking down at where your core meets Mikes thigh you can already see the large wet spot staining his pants. Your panties are absolutely soaked and ruined and the stimulation of his thigh tensing against your clit has you just about ready to come.
“i’m gonna come omg yes yes”
you’re too overwhelmed to even moan as an orgasm crashes through you, leaving you panting and slumped against Mike. He carries you to the room laying you face up on the bed and stripping himself of his clothes. you watch as he slips his boxers down, his thick cock slapping against his happy trail, the tip is red and a vein that runs through the entirety of his dick is pulsing. you use your arms for support after recovering from your orgasm as Mike stalks towards you, pushing your legs up against your shoulders. his face nears your panty covered cunt and you feel his hot breath against it as he rubs his nose across the flimsy soaked cloth. Finally he rips it in two but your too far gone to even care, especially once his mouth is on you, tongue exploring ever inch of you from the inside out. his lips wrap around your clit and he’s overall just making an absolute mess of your pussy. his spit and your arousal combined spreads across the lower half of his face and also down to your puckered hole.
Just as you’re about to near your second orgasm of the night mike gets up, flipping you over and pushing you face down into the sheets. you wiggle your hips needy for something to fill you up and that’s exactly what happens.
Mikes cock is sheathed inside of you in one swift go reaching the very depths of your pussy, you clench around him and mewl into the sheets. “fuck so fucking tight honey shit i don’t know how long i can last” you try to respond but the only sounds coming out from your mouth are moans, continuous ones that are almost comparable to an amateur pornstars. Using his hands he guides your hips back against him to meet his thrust, the tip of his cock rubbing continuously at your g-spot. suddenly he yanks you up pulling your back against his front while he drives his cock into you even harder and faster than before.
he pinches your nipples, leaving one hand there the other drops to your clit playing with it using his index and middle fingers.
“oh fuck, jesus keep going mikey please don’t stop baby.”
“so close, so fucking close.”
“come baby, with me please”
the continuous rubbing against your clit has you coming hard around his cock, your cum dripping out and down onto his balls, simultaneously Mikes warm load starts filling you up, his loud almost animalistic low groans harmonising with your higher squeals and moans. He lowers you back face down on the bed with a few more pumps and slowly removes his member, remnants of your mixed cum leaking out from your hole soiling the sheets under you, as you curl up against mike. He carries you into the bathroom and with a dazed smile you look up at him announcing, “guess you lost your streak”
~unedited~
1K notes · View notes
dilfsfordinner · 13 days
Text
summary- toji fails to prevent a completely preventable messy incident from occurring, involving his son
pairing- husband toji x fem!reader
—————————————————————————
“You wanna do it?” Toji grinned, eyebrows raised as he watched little Megumi tug the ratchet from his grasp, waddling towards the raised car, brave enough to face the thing he’d thought a transformer just months prior.
Your car was in dire need of an oil change and being the caring husband that he was, Toji took up his place as mechanic for the day, his worry about typical shop workers taking advantage of women evident in his pleas for you to just stay home and let him do it.
Megumi also took up his place as the incredibly curious and stubborn one year old, his job apparently to make Toji’s work as hard as humanly possible, every babble or questionable crash tearing Toji’s attention away from the task at hand, which is why he stopped trying, and just let his son indulge in his childlike curiosity.
Of course, you would lose your mind if you knew that your baby was around such a large machine, but Toji knew himself and his capabilities, his reflexes practically inhuman, so he didn’t really mind a little thing running around his feet, as long as he kept an eye out.
“Alright, Megs, give it back,” Toji said gently, hand curling open to reveal a waiting palm, Toji realizing that the young boy did not intend to help him underneath the car. Rather, he’d started a game of tag, little feet scurrying to the other side of the garage, awaiting his father’s move.
Refusing to let a one year old bruise his competitive spirit, Toji used his skills to be across the room in a split second, large hands grabbing Megumi before he could run away, a loud slew of giggles leaving the young boy’s lips, Toji smiling as he held him up with only two hands, walking towards the car like he was holding a feral cat.
Setting the babbling child down, Toji got down on his level, kneeling to tell Megumi to stay back and watch for a second. Pulling himself under the car, Toji then began to use Megumi like a little assistant, asking for tools as needed. “Wrench please” and similar phrases continued for a while before Toji was ready to actually do the task at hand.
Humming in approval at his handiwork, Toji made one final request to the boy sitting beside his feet. “Can you get the jug of oil for me, please?” he asked gently, hands busy holding the port above him closed, his ears catching an excited “yes” and the patter of running feet retreating farther into the garage.
Too preoccupied to notice the unusual length of time it was taking for his son to grab the requested bottle, Toji continued his tinkering before an odd smack sounded, glugging sounds following soon after.
Pausing his movements, Toji craned his neck to try and see his son but before he could even question what had happened, a familiar sniffle sounded at his feet, loud cries flowing from his baby’s mouth.
Sighing, Toji quickly screwed the oil duct tight, and pulled himself from under the car. The sight he emerged to was certainly a surprising one. There, right next to all of his discarded tools, was an oil-covered Megumi, his whole body completely drenched with the thick, black substance.
Letting out a sympathetic laugh and sweet “It’s okay”s, Toji scooped up his crying child, tutting as the dripping kid hid his face in his dad’s chest, trying to hide or remove the liquid, Toji couldn’t tell.
Completely clueless to the situation outside, you were busy in the kitchen, making a snack for your husband as a thank you. For the first time in an hour, familiar footsteps sounded behind you as you chopped up some vegetables, smiling to yourself as you expected two arms to come wrap around you. What you didn’t expect was to hear the wails of your baby boy, and you especially couldn’t have prepared yourself to see him in the flesh.
“What happened,” you gasped as Toji held the young boy to his chest, a black trail of droplets gathering around his feet as you rushed up to the two of them. Cradling little Megumi’s face, oil coated your hands, anger bubbling inside of you, the only funnel being a slap to your husband’s shoulder, narrowed eyes turning up to meet his own.
“I told you to leave him in here,” you huffed, your angry tone fizzling into sympathetic coos as your attention turned back to your son. “It was an accident,” Toji’s voice had that humorous lilt to it, one that was really good at making your very motherly nature less worrisome. “It happens to workers all the time, he’ll be okay.”
And he was right, because after what seemed to be hours of scrubbing and a whole bottle of dawn dish soap later, the previously oily Megumi was squeaky clean, and incredibly happy as he munched away on his dinner. Toji couldn’t help but retell the story a million times, ignoring your reprimanding words as he fell into a fit of laughter, which eventually had your lips starting to pull into a smile, Megumi none the wiser, his memory about the incident already wiped away.
—————————————————————————
633 notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 8 months
Text
The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It
Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.
Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)
Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!
Tumblr media
"Your hands are so big."
It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.
"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."
Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.
Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?
You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.
"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.
"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.
"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.
"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.
Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-
"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"
You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."
As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"
Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"
"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.
"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.
You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.
Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.
Tumblr media
"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.
"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.
"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.
It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".
"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.
"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.
With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."
"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.
"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.
It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.
"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.
God damn it.
You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.
Honey: We need to go to Plan C.
Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?
Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.
Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?
Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.
Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽
Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.
Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.
Tumblr media
Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.
"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.
"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.
"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.
It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.
You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.
"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.
Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"
You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"
Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.
"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.
"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.
Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.
"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.
"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.
"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.
Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."
Your breath hitched, "You do?"
Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"
He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.
Time for Plan D.
Tumblr media
"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"
"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.
"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"
It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.
"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.
"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.
"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.
When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.
"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.
"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.
If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.
"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.
Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."
It took everything in you not to scream.
The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.
With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.
Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board
Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.
Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?
Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate
Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?
Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!
Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?
You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!
Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?
Bagman: Like 52% nude.
Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.
Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?
Bagman: No that's plan G
Tumblr media
"Hey Bee!"
The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.
"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."
"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."
"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."
The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."
You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.
Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.
"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.
Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"
You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.
After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.
Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.
The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.
"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.
Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."
"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.
In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.
You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.
His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.
So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-
"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."
This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.
Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.
Tumblr media
The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.
He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.
Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?
Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.
"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.
You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.
"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.
"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.
"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.
His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.
You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.
"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.
"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.
"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.
"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."
His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"
"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.
"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"
You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.
"The first day of training?" He repeated.
"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."
Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.
"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.
His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.
Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.
When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.
"FINALLY!"
You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.
You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.
Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.
Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.
"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?
"Let's go."
He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.
"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.
"Making up for lost time!"
Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.
The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.
Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.
You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.
Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.
"Why do you keep doing that?!"
"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."
"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."
"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.
Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.
His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.
What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?
You wanted to know everything.
But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.
Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.
"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.
Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.
"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.
"I would love that Robby."
Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"
You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."
He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"
"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.
"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"
"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.
"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"
"As most things are."
"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."
You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.
"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.
"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.
"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.
"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.
Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"
Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.
3K notes · View notes
cocklessboy · 1 year
Text
I see a lot of people saying that gender-affirming health care like top surgery for trans people like myself should be freely available (which is correct), but one of the reasons they often give is that top surgery is very safe and has a very low rate of complications compared to other surgeries. And I often see transphobes clutching their pearls over the few people who do have complications. What about them?! What if you're one of the unlucky ones?! Should we really let those transes risk it??!!!
Setting aside the fact that no one raises such concerns over other types of surgery, I'd like to use myself as an example for anyone who needs one.
In May of 2022 I had top surgery (double mastectomy). The surgery was done by a gynecological surgeon, not a plastic surgeon, because that way my insurance would cover it.
The surgeon did his job and removed the breast tissue, but he did not make it look pretty. I have dog-ears at both ends of both scars (extra bits of skin that hang off in a very unappealing fashion), my chest still looks unnaturally flat with no muscle or fat despite a lot of working out, and one of the stitches didn't heal properly and was left as an open wound through "secondary healing" for several months before it finally healed over into a very large scab (and eventually a very large scar). My nipples are uneven and irregular and look... well, just awful, really. Due to bad genetic luck, I wound up with keloid scars which, instead of getting smaller and lighter over time, have instead expanded, becoming thicker and darker. Worst of all, I now have chronic nerve pain in my chest. My GP thinks the surgeon must have hit a nerve during the procedure, and now I have random sharp pains all over my chest even now, nearly ten months later. The pain might improve with time, or it might not.
I basically had almost every possible complication one can have from this surgery short of infection or death. Some of the aesthetics might be fixable with more surgery (though plastic surgery will be expensive). Some are probably permanent. I might never feel comfortable taking my shirt off in public again. I might have to tattoo over the scars.
And pay attention to this next bit, because it's the most important part of this whole post: I do not regret the surgery. Even with all the complications and the ugly state of my chest and the pain. If someone said they could push a button and make it so that the surgery never happened and I'd have a perfect, unmarred chest with C-cup breasts again, I would tell them to take their button and fuck right off. Because even with basically the worst of all possible outcomes, that surgery was the best thing that ever happened to me.
I don't feel good about taking my shirt off in front of people now. I do think my chest is ugly. But it's a male chest now. When I put on a t-shirt, it rests flat against my chest. No one will ever mistake me for a woman again. I'll never have to wear a bra or binder ever again.
The dysphoria I felt from having breasts was so severe that a hideously scarred chest and chronic pain are vastly preferable. The euphoria I feel when I look in the mirror with a shirt on is something I never knew I was capable of feeling.
And it's my fucking body, and it's up to me what I do with it. If I wanted to tattoo myself from head to toe, or file my teeth into fangs, or have a doctor break my legs and surgically implant extensions to make me taller, that's my right because it's my body. The fact that all those things are regarded as basically acceptable (if a little weird), but I had to have a dehumanizing interview with an old cis psychiatrist who hates trans people and wants us all sterilized just to get a piece of paper giving me permission to have my tits removed, is fucking absurd.
Top surgery (of any kind) is generally very safe, and complications are rare. But even with the worst outcome, a trans person will basically never regret it.
And frankly, if a cis woman wants her tits cut off, or a cis man wants a pair of boobs to play with on his own chest, more power to them because literally who gives a fuck what people do to their own bodies? I saw a dude on TV when I was a kid who'd tattooed his whole body to look like a cat, filed his teeth into fangs, and had loads of plastic surgery to surgically implant whiskers and make his face look more feline. It was weird! But literally no one said that should be banned because he might regret it. It's his body to do whatever weird shit he wants with.
The next time someone clutches their pearls and kicks and screams about how you can't let someone permanently alter their body in a way they might regret, feel free to point to me and my complete and utter lack of regret.
(Or have a little fun with it, go hard in the other direction, and say you absolutely agree, which is why we should ban ALL non-emergency surgeries until the patient has been FULLY evaluated by three psychiatrists - along with tattoos and piercings. Oh, and ballet lessons for anyone under the age of 25, since ballet changes the structure of a child's body FOREVER.)
3K notes · View notes
oceantornadoo · 19 days
Note
IDK! HEAR ME OUT THO!!!
Simon, staging the break in and what not so he could push you back into his arms??? INSANE!
Delicious story. Thank you for the food! <3
so originally when i made that last fic (which unexpectedly blew up tysm everyone) i added in the creepy elements almost on accident?? but this and another reply has me thinking...
tw: slight humiliation (but you'll like it)=
simon riley wasn't a bad man. he also wasn't a bad husband. at least that's what he told himself.
when you had presented him with those divorce papers a bit ago (13 months and 4 days, but who was counting), he thought it was a bluff. a joke. he had gone too far in your last argument, and that was your reaction. when he told you he'd go to therapy, you stared at him with a look he'd only see on men in the battlefield. dead all the way through, a walking husk. so he signed them and went to therapy anyways.
the whole time, this whole 13-month break, where you had been 'building a new life' or whatever, he had been planning. internalizing the commentary his therapist would make, and then spitting it back out to you while you moved out of his place. every time you seemed to forget one extra box, and who's to say if he hid a couple in his room? he had a plan.
over time, simon really seemed to have learned so much from therapy. so much about communication. he had become open and welcoming, far from that man who would respond to your complaints with hard stares and a lack of words. so maybe you met for coffee a couple of times and that's how he knew about the cafe by your new place. maybe that's how he tailed you one night after a date, just to make sure this new guy didn't try anything (and not to figure out your unit number). whatever he did, he played a dangerous game by letting you have this illusion of freedom while balancing his presence in your life, just enough to make you want more. after weeks and week of stagnant progress, he needed one extra push. something small, not even a shove.
and if he happened to mention your unit number to a bunch of shady guys that hung out in the alley by your building? happened to brag about your pretty pussy and sweet-smelling panties? maybe mention your habit of not locking the window when you left for work? who's to say. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
and now here you were, back in his arms where you belonged. a little frightened but comforted in the knowledge that he could protect you. the ghost wasn't shed when he took his mask off, but you didn't need to know that.
--
your body was so used to being in simon's arms you didn't even realize you had been grinding on him for the past ten minutes. his boxers you wore were sticky with arousal as you grinded against his clothed cock in the dark. even in your dream, it was simon underneath you, no one else. "si." you panted, a near-whisper that only a military man could have heard. "dove?" he adjusted your sleeping positions, tossing the covers to give you more room to maneuver against him.
"i know i said that thing about the line not being crossed." he gave you a low chuckle. silly little girl. you had finally realized how much you needed him and he was going to milk you for all you were worth. "and?" you stopped. shit. he needed to seem more responsive. he moved you from his thigh to his boner using one arm, the other one snaking its way under your shirt to stroke your back. you moaned as he massaged the tension from the day's earlier events away, giving you sweet relief. the sweetness of the massage made a hard contrast to the friction in your core as he rubbed you against his hardened cock.
"spit it out, baby." he growled. "can you-fuck." his hand had moved to the back of your neck now, holding it in a tight grip. his hand was so large he could feel the pulse points on either side of your jaw, heart racing. finally. "can you get me off? just this once?" he snorted, moving you up and down against him faster, dragging your sensitive clit over and over. "what's the magic word?" he flipped you both around, pressing his body weight on top of you.
simon turned the light on, wanting to see how needy you were. you were panting, shirt sticky with sweat as your chest moved up and down with exertion. he hiked up your shirt and took off your boxers, exposing your sticky cunt to the cool air. he took a sniff of the fabric, noting your small gasp as if you didn't know how obsessed he was with you already. "magic word." your mouth dropped. guess you weren't getting off that easily. "please, simon." he clucked his tongue at that. "ghost?" he left out a short laugh, arms reaching out to tug his shirt off of you. your nipples were so hard, aching to be pinched and sucked just how you liked them. "not ghost." he reached over to his nightstand, pulling something out of the drawer. he fumbled with his hand for a second, then held yours up to the light as he slipped something on it.
"husband." the words left your mouth in a whoosh, eyes transfixed on your wedding ring that was on your hand. the one you had flung at him after he complained about the divorce papers, the one you said you'd rather die than wear again. and here it was, right back on your finger, sparkling in the lamplight.
simon captured your mouth in a rough kiss, entering you with his ring and middle finger at the same time. "so willing for your husband, hm? all puffy and wet. look at your cunt, darling." you both looked down at your pussy at the same time. it was squelching, your vibrator sessions not holding a candle to what your ex husband could do to you. you were almost embarrassed by how desperate your pussy looked, clit enlarged from its earlier friction. his fingers worked in and out of you, wedding ring covered in slick. you watched as he pressed his thumb to your clit in small circles, a tightening sensation in your lower belly rising to the surface. "simon, si-fuck" he gave your pussy a small slap, pulling his fingers out as you addressed him incorrectly. "husband, please." he entered you again roughly, drawing a low moan from you. he captured your nipple in his mouth, teething it just enough to make you hurt. punishment.
"please please please i'm right ther-" he pressed hard against your clit and sent you careening off the edge into your orgasm, back bowing off the bed. simon gave you small love bites as you recovered, hand still working your cunt to draw out your orgasm.
finally, he removed his fingers and drew back from you, forcing eye contact. he put both in his mouth, moaning at the taste of your arousal mixed with the metal from the wedding band. your jaw was still open, looking at him like you had never seen him before. like the sheep's skin had finally been removed, and now only the wolf remained.
"let's get you to bed, wife."
552 notes · View notes