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#i got a little too wrapped up in a part of the one fic that was just supposed to be a bridge for time passing
luveline · 2 days
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Mothers day lil fic with eddie x reader from june baby? 👉🏻👈🏻
mom!reader, 1.5k “Big stretch!”
You hold your arms above your head, stretching as tall as you can go. Your t-shirt rises and exposes the soft stretch of your tummy, stretch marks decorating your skin and lightened in the sun as you lean to your left side.
“Okay, now we count. One, two…”
“Three,” Junie says. “Five, six, seven.”
“You forgot four, babe. Let’s try again, okay?” You stretch to your right side. “One, two, three…”
“Five, six, four–”
You giggle. Junie, who wasn’t doing a very good job at copying your yoga poses to begin with, hears you laughing and drops her short arms to her sides. “Tummy!” she says, jumping forward to push her hand into your stomach.
“I’m telling Eddie you did that. So nasty.” You drop your arms.
“Tummy,” she says again, poking at your belly button.
You catch her hands in yours and level her with a feigned glare. “What are you trying to say about my tummy?”
She beams. It’s lovely to have a little baby that looks like you. Her joy is yours, her smile made up of your lips and teeth. She’s a mirror, and you could never not think she was gorgeous —it makes you gorgeous too.
“Guess we’re done stretching?” you ask.
She lifts her hands to your sides, a gesture to be grabbed. You lean down to collect her and drag her up for a hug, holding her low at the back to encourage face to face time. “What, you’re not talking to me?” you ask warmly.
She touches your neck.
“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure you get it.
Outside, tires roll across grass and road alike. You listen for the whine of Eddie’s van as it parks, grinning all over again when it comes. He’s not supposed to see you today, it’s Sunday, he has too much stuff to do.
If he’s outside, it means he swapped his shifts again or called out, which means he’s gonna give you one of his speeches about being sickly sweet in love with you. You can pretend you don’t like them as much as you want, but there’s no better feeling than being loved like you’re something special.
You open the door before he can, and he needs it, anyhow. To your confusion, he’s carrying a cellophane wrapped bouquet made up of a hundred different colours and a white box in the other, arms full and naked, no jacket to hide from the early summer sun. Your eyes widen as he gets to the steps. He looks like he made an effort to see you (and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t always, you love him as he is, but you can’t help asking yourself why).
“What’s going on?” you ask.
Eddie smiles. “What do you mean?”
“What’s the stuff for?” There’s a bag hanging from his elbow.
“This stuff?” he asks, cresting the last step.
“Hi,” Junie says.
“Hi, babe.”
“Hi.” She reaches for the flowers. “Pretty.”
“You think so? I got them for your mommy but I’m sure she’ll share them with you.”
You’re nonplussed as he moves in to kiss your cheek and skirt around you. “Come on. This stuff’s heavy,” he says, the cellophane crunching against his chest as he squeezes past you into your home.
“Eddie, what is that stuff?”
“You don’t know what day it is today?”
You think about it for a second at least. “No?”
It’s not your birthday, not Junie’s. You and Eddie can’t have made it to your first anniversary already, but perhaps six months? You try to do the maths in your head. Eddie puts the white box on your kitchen table, the bag on Junie’s high chair, and the flowers by the sink.
“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks, some sympathy in play.
“Eddie, we did stretches!” Junie says from your arms.
You offer her to him. He wraps her up and makes it look easy, baby on his hip. Quick kiss pressed to her cheek. “Yeah? Mom’s got you doing yoga again?”
You’re drawn to the box like a magnet.
“What is it?” you ask.
“It’s for you, babe,” he says easily, smiling as Junie tucks a curl behind his ear. “It’s all for you. You can open it.”
“You sure?”
“Of course I am. Open it up.”
You take the box’s lid off, lips parting in surprise. Happy Mother’s Day has been written in white writing against a baby pink cake. It’s simple, without frills, but it’s sweet and it looks soft to the touch.
“Is it today?” you ask.
“Yeah, babe. I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Eddie shifts Junie forward to stop her from tangling his hair. “That’s a lie, I totally can. Quick, come here.”
You slot into his side, expecting the kiss, but not the second one against the apple of your cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to make sure my mom knew I was thinking about her first.” He taps your noses together before pulling away. “You’re the best mom ever, so. Me and June got you some presents. No biggie.”
“Junie got me this?”
“Who do you think wrote on the cake?”
Eddie pretends to eat Junie’s hand, to her delight. You feel the cardboard of your box between your fingers, no attempt made to hide the achingly huge smile that’s taking shape. “And the bags for me too?” you ask.
Eddie can hear it in your voice. “The bag’s for you too, of course. You're the mother.” He snarfs against Junie’s wrist. “Um-num-num.”
You drag the bag from Junie’s blue and orange high chair across the table to peek inside. It’s a flat, paper bag from a clothing store, so the contents surprise you for being much more than clothes. Your smile gets worse with each item unveiled from its tissue paper depths: a humble box of fancy chocolates, a bag of your favourite chips, a small black box and a pair of pyjamas wrapped together with a ribbon.
You hesitate with the box, hand atop it, head tilting toward your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t notice your hesitation, or at least he’s pretending not to, pretending to nibble Junie’s sleeve where she’s laughing it up in his arms.
“What’s in the box?”
He looks up quickly. Not pretending. “Oh, that’s– If you don’t like it, I can take it back. It’s nothing crazy.”
“You’re proposing.” The box is shaped for a bracelet or necklace rather than a ring.
He nods severely. “Will you do me the honour?”
You laugh softly and line your thumb to the box’s seam. It opens on a tense hinge, clicking into place.
It’s a bracelet made up of silver beads. There’s a small flat-circle charm between the beads, that, upon closer inspection, harbours two hearts, one bigger than the other.
“It’s nothing fancy, okay? So if it breaks you won’t feel bad. It’s real silver though, you don’t have to take it off much if you don’t want to. I don’t know. I think it’s, like, a reminder of her when you’re not together.” Junie whines, encouraging Eddie to press another peck to her cheek as he hugs her tighter, and takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine.”
You slip the bracelet onto your wrist. It goes without saying you’ve never had much jewellery.
Taking his face into your hands is easy. Holding him tenderly is second nature. “Thank you,” you say, eye to eye, willing it to sink in deeply. “I love you.”
“Yeah, I love you, too. And Junie loves you more than anybody. You deserve to know that.”
“I do,” you say, glad when he puckers up for a kiss. You kiss his pouting lips misaligned to nobody’s worry, adding another for thankfulness, and a third just because. He’s smirking before you’ve so much as pulled away.
“And thank you!” you add saccharinely, stroking Junie’s cheek, though the idea that she had anything to do with your gifts is funny. “I wouldn’t get to be a mommy if it wasn’t for you. I love you.”
“Love you,” Junie says distractedly, more interested by the stud earring in Eddie’s lobe.
He gives you both a soft, soft look, startlingly yards away from his previous smirking. “You’re the best girls in the world.”
“You're the best boyfriend.” You curve an arm around him to steal him and press your face into his arm. “I love you,” you say, smushed. “Thank you so much for everything. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he says.
“I really love you.”
“Yeah,” he says, his nose touching your head as he cranes his head down to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you too. You deserve it, alright?”
Junie pats your head. “Love love love you. Kiss?”
She almost blinds you trying to kiss you in the eye as you turn your face toward her, but it’s nice.
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dreamauri · 17 hours
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♪ — 𝟱 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗘𝗦, 𝐒𝐕𝟓 rbr! sebastian vettel x fem! reader (fluff) “. . . using his five senses, these are his favourite things about you.”
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( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests | taglist )
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 Sight
Sebastian is convinced you're beautiful and he's lucky to have you.
Your smile and eyes are priceless compared to all the art works in the world combined. And therefor, it's only fitting for you to wear the most exquisite of brands and jewels.
he loves seeing you in things he buys. clothes, dresses, sunglasses heels
it makes him feel satisfied that he could make you shine despite you already being brighter than the sun and prettier than Saturn and the moon.
Sebastian loves to spoil you just as much as he loves admiring you
So when you wear a dress he buys you, he can't help ut forget the world around him and admire the Greek goddess he's been blessed with
"That's a pretty anklet." Sebastian hummed as he sat on the couch beside you, nuzzling his nose in the back of your neck as he gently brushed your hair into a ponytail because it was flying everywhere from the windy beach. You giggled feeling ticklish as his fingers traced down your legs to the jewellery he had bought you a few days ago.
"My boyfriend got me it. This bikini too." You giggle as you share a soft peck before standing up and down a little twirl. Sebastian couldn't supress his smile as he held you waist and puled you closer, kissing the belly button piercing.
Touch
 it gives sebastian peace of mind knowing that he's your safe spot
being the person who can keep you safe eases his mind.
he loves it when you hug him or hold his hand. that you come to him for solace.
he'll hold you close when you crawl into his chest and will cuddle you after a long day of work.
Sebastian loves to run hands through your hair and leave small soft kisses all over your head and hands, rubbing your back as he holds you close in his embrace
"Well hello." Sebastian smiled, lifting his arm to see you from where you were hugging him from behind. You wrapped your arm around his waist with a smile, getting on your tippy toes for a kiss the German didn't hesitate to give.
"Are you going to be stuck to me the while night, Meine Liebe?" [my love] He asks feeling you nuzzle your nose in his back. "Do you not want me to?" You ask and Sebastian shakes his head, gently holding one of your hands and stroking your fingers as you melted into his figure.
Smell
Your perfume always lingers on Sebastian since you cling to him so much, a comforting reminder of your presence and affection.
It's a subtle mix of sugar and blueberries, a scent that clings to his clothes and bedsheets, making him feel close to you even when you're not around or he's away.
Every time he catches catch a whiff of it, he's reminded of your comforting aura and hugs and the way you whisper sweet nothings in his ear as you play with his hair when it's your turn to big spoon.
This scent becomes a part of his everyday life, making mundane moments feel special. Especially if other drivers or co-workers smell feminine perfume on him and ask. he goes on a whole rant about you.
Sitting at your vanity, you smile as you spritz a bit of perfume on your wrist. He walks by, catching the scent, and grins like an exited puppy. "Can I have some?" he asks as if he's not going to tangle his body with yours in a few minutes. "Seb." You laugh as he couches down so you can put some on his neck. Instead, he got a kiss to his cheek, which made him feel all fluffy, leaning his head on your shoulder as if he was melting into you.
Hearing
Sebastian's curses in German are a familiar sound in your home. He loves cursing, so doing it in German has become the norm. it's gonna be sooner or later that you catch on and join in too.
Swearing is way of expressing frustration, but it often makes him laugh because he never expects it from you and that he actually loves that you're speaking german (even if it's bad words.
"Scheiße." [fuck] Seb found himself smiling, looking at you as you struggled with the pickle jar. "What was that, mein liebe?" he giggled, leaning his forearm on the kitchen island. "Was zum Teufel ist los mit dir? Why won't you just open?" [what the fuck is wrong with you] You huffed shoving the glass in Sebastian's chest chest. "Here since it's so funny, you take it."
Seb could'n't hold his laughs in as he unscrewed the lid of the jar easily. Loud curse words ensued as you watched him do what you've been struggling with "Fuck you." you smacked his chest, taking the pickle jar and plucking one of the pickled cucumbers before screwing the lid back on.
"No no noo." Seb whined , hugging you from behind with a pout. "Go back to the German. Please?" The blond stuck out his bottom lip in plead with his blue puppy eyes. "Nein." [no] you huffed angrily munching on your veggie.
Taste
Every kiss Sebastian shares with you is a sensory haven, but nothing beats the taste of champagne on your lips after a celebration
When you get a taste of the podium champagne bottle, Sebastian makes sure to pull you closer to taste the alcohol once more, only it's from your tongue this time
The flavour mingles with his senses, creating a delicious blend of saliva and expensive bubbles that's intoxicating
He can always tell when you've had a glass, the taste lingering long after the kiss ends sends his heart in whirlwind and tongue yearning for more
These moments remind you of victories celebrated and moments cherished together
After a long-awaited victory, Sebastian pulled you into a kiss, the taste of champagne lingering on his lips. "You taste like celebration," He whispered, smiling against your ips. "That's because every moment with you is worth celebrating," You hum, kissing him again, the taste of champagne and love blending perfectly.
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replaytech · 1 day
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just let me help you | tech x reader
warnings: small injury
(shoutout to my sister for this fic idea☝🏻)
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-
“Kriff”, was not the first irritated word to leave techs mouth.
He had been working on fixing a part of the marauders control panel for the last 20 minutes.
All of his efforts, however, are to no avail.
A pair of footsteps walks up behind him and sighs, “Tech, I’m calling in someone from the hangar”, hunter says.
Tech just adjusts his goggles and continues tinkering with the controls, “That is unnecessary, I can fix it.”
Hunter knows full well that tech is capable of fixing just about anything, but they were on a serious time crunch to get off of this planet.
-
You’re making some minor adjustments to one of your astromecs when a tall, dark haired man with a face tattoo walks up to you.
“Are you a mechanic?”
The hand that’s holding a wrench stills as you look down at your dusty coveralls and back at him with a “What does it look like?” look.
He laughs lightly, “Were kind of in a hurry and could use some help, we can’t pay much, but it would be really appreciated.”
You stand up, dust off your legs and push your glasses farther up your nose, “Payment isn’t needed, lead the way.”
-
You walk into the cockpit of their ship and see a man looking very frustratedly at some loose wires, “I am getting there, hunter.”
“I’ve never seen an omicron class attack shuttle with these modifications before.”
He stops what he’s doing immediately and turns around, “Pardon me, I thought you were my brother.”
The way he’s looking at you makes your face turn slightly pink, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in or anything.”
He adjusts his goggles, “Who are you, exactly?”
You fiddle with your eyewear as well and tell him your name, “I’m a mechanic here at the hangar, your brother sent me.”
He looks at you silently for a second before swallowing and facing away from you, “I am Tech. However, I can manage this, you may go back to your duties around the hangar.”
You cross your arms and tilt your head, “Your brother said that you’ve been working on it for a while, can I just take a look?”
He glances at you sideways and moves over slightly, “I suppose a second opinion wouldn’t be a negative thing.”
You smile softly and make your way over to the control panel, looking at every single detail and focusing on each piece.
Tech, of course, notices how entranced you seem to be by the technology of the ship and can’t help but stare at you.
The way your glasses fall down your nose slightly, the way your eyebrows slightly furrow, the way you bite your bottom lip, he takes note of it all. Your focus might be on the controls, but techs focus is all on you.
Tech blindly reaches for some random wires, seeing how his gaze can’t be torn away from your face, and you notice, “Wait, don’t put those toget-“, your voice cuts off.
You warn him a little too late, and he brings a wire down onto another and shocks his fingers.
He lets out a startled sound and backs away, “Are you alright?”
He looks at you and the way that you’re worriedly checking his hand, “I, I think I will manage.”
You look up at him with a quirked brow, “It would kill you to ask for help, wouldn’t it?”
You swear he’s slightly blushing, “I suppose it wouldn’t cause extensive damage to my health.”
A grin breaks out onto your face as you both sit in chairs opposite from each other. You pull out a small med kit from your satchel.
You hold his hand and slowly peel off his glove. You start to feel almost nervous. All you’re doing is taking off his glove but it feels so… close.
You gently inspect his fingers, “It’s not too bad, you just got a first degree burn on your pointer finger and thumb.”
You look up to see him looking at you silently with his lips parted, but after a second or two, he clears his throat, “That’s the conclusion I came to as well.”
As you wrap his fingers in bacta patches and dry wraps, you speak up, “So, are you and your brothers soldiers?”, you gesture to his armor.
“My brothers and I are enhanced clones from kamino. I suppose we are technically still soldiers, just for a different cause.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “Enhanced? I’ve heard of clones because of the war, but I never knew there were enhanced ones.”
Tech adjusts his goggles, “Yes, each of my brothers has an enhanced trait. Hunter can track and sense any electromagnetic frequency on the planet, crosshairs marksmanship is unlike any you will ever see, wrecker has the strength of approximately 100 regular clones and I have what would be referred to as a brilliant mind.”
You finish bandaging his fingers but his hand stays loosely on top of yours, “I find that men with the highest intelligence quotients tend to be the most engaging and endearing.”
He looks a little flushed and maybe even taken aback, but recovers quickly, “That is one way to characterize those with a mind similar to mine.”
You look at him for a few seconds before awkwardly clearing your throat, “Well, we should probably get back to fixing up your ship. Try not to connect two opposing wires this time around.”
You once again feel nervous around the brilliant clone. The way he looks at you, it is almost as if he is seeing the beautiful blue lakes of Naboo for the first time.
He stands next to you as you resume inspecting the controls, “Technically, it was not my fault.”
You snort, “Is that so?”
“Yes. I am not used to being in the company of someone who has a mind like mine, it is very distracting. The amount of beauty you have in your face alone does not help my situation. Neither does the fact that every other part of you is equally radiant and stunning.”
You nearly choke. Tech thought you were beautiful?
Somehow, your face becomes more blushed, “I don’t know about my beauty being as much as you say”, you awkwardly laugh.
Tech glances over at you, “Those who do not acknowledge your beauty simply do not have the brain capacity to realize how exquisite you really are.”
You bite your lip to hide your smile, “You’re one to talk. I blush everytime you look me in the eye.”
He’s about to say something else but he catches the look of confusion on your face, “Is everything alright?”
You point to a switch below the controls, “Your power switch is turned off. Tech, there’s nothing wrong with your controls”, you can’t help but laugh.
You turn the switch on and the panel comes to life, “I did not realize that somebody turned off the switch.”
“You’re welcome.”
The two of you turn around to see a tall man with a tattoo over his eye and a toothpick in his mouth, one of his brothers, probably.
He points his toothpick at tech, “I had to get her here somehow. You’re welcome”, he walks away.
You grin and cross your arms, “So your ship was fine this whole time?”
“That is correct, but I was not aware of that.”
“And why would your brothers bring me here?”
“Perhaps they noticed my gaze linger on you for longer than usual when we first arrived.”
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turtletaubwrites · 4 hours
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Numbers Game ~ Part 20
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Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks
Numbers Game Masterlist
Word Count: 7349
Ao3 Link
Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link
Summary: You fight to find some joy while your little world falls apart. Is there anyone you can trust?
Author's Note: Hi friends! I realize that most of you came for the smut, and stayed for the drama, lol. Going forward, there will be some heavier topics including trauma, scenes depicting panic attacks, etc. I'll try to bracket the most intense sections off with ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ and I will do my best to make sure you still understand what's going on in case you'd like to skip past those parts. Thank you so much for staying with me, and letting me take this story where I always wanted it to go!
Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks and/or big trauma (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)
!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc
Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, SH (scratching while panicking), Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Double Penetration, PIV Sex, Anal, Multiple Orgasms, Hair-Pulling, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~
She’s perfect. She’s everything. She’s—
Stupid, red hair.
Buggy held Y/N close, hearts still racing, still breathing with each other.
This morning he’d woken up tense, sweating with guilt that she wasn’t in his arms after all the shit they’d been through to get back.
But the arms that had wrapped around him… The lips that had kissed his neck…
“Mornin’ Bugs.”
“Morning, shithead.”
Then there were her tears. More fucking tears today. That was all he could think about. The near panic of needing to make her feel better, make her smile, make those tears stop touching her beautiful face.
Now that those tears had stopped, his mind cracked open, letting that red hair shine through like the first light of the morning sun when you’re not ready to see it.
Gods, I’m such a piece of shit. 
“Buggy?”
“Hey, star! How ya doing? Can I get ya anything?”
“No,” she laughed, the sweetest fucking sound in the world. “Just you, Bugs. Just stay with me for a while, please.”
He held her close, his head falling back against the headboard. 
“I’ve got you.”
~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~
Buggy’s name echoed through the halls, so loud that Mihawk wasn’t the only one that heard.
Crocodile sighed, shaking his head slowly at the sound.
“Should we punish our pets,” Mihawk drawled, the words spilling out like acid.
“Sorry,” Shanks called as he sauntered back into the lounge, a pleased smile on his face. “My other hosts are a bit busy. Mind if I—“ 
“Fuck off.”
Shanks smirked up at Crocodile, sand fading from reality after the larger man had shifted across the floor. 
“You two seem awfully grumpy,” he taunted, his voice too even, too calm. “It almost seems like you care about your captives. But that can’t be right...”
Mihawk was there, stepping slightly between the two men. Two men he’d betrayed.
“Is it really necessary to gloat, Red Hair?”
“Who’s gloating,” Shanks countered, his sunny smile falling fast. “I just wanna know that my friend and his girl are safe. Can’t blame me for that, can you? Not after everything you did to him.”
“We won’t stop him if he wants to go,” Crocodile rasped, the veins in his hand pulsing as he clenched his fist. That thought soaked his blood in a rage he didn’t know what to do with.
He knew there was nothing to be done. 
“How kind of you,” Shanks mocked, walking away from Crocodile’s glare to stand in front of his old friend. He didn’t look back at the frustrated sound that left Crocodile’s throat at the dismissal. 
Mihawk hated the itchiness in his fingers, the instinct to reach for his sword. 
“You’ve been trying, haven’t you, old friend,” Shanks breathed, his eyes scanning over every slight movement on Mihawk’s face. “Looks like it’s too late to play nice, though. Why would such a sweet girl wanna stay with monsters like you?” 
A clash of hook against sword.
Shanks’ serene face, inches from the striking metal as Mihawk blocked that golden hook. 
“I think I’ll have lunch on the Red Force. Give my friends some time to cool off. All that screaming sounds exhausting.” Shanks winked at Mihawk, nodded at Crocodile with a smirk, and strutted toward the door with a laugh. “If you hurt them while I’m gone, I’ll level this place to the fucking ground.”
With that threat, the red haired emperor left the two ex-warlords frozen, their weapons still caught together in a useless battle between defeated men. 
It was hard to say who lowered first, but as soon as their weapons were down, Crocodile brought his to the other’s throat. 
Mihawk let him.
“You knew,” Crocodile raged, eyes flaring as he failed to spot any fucking reaction on his new lover’s face. “You knew, didn’t you? He’s gonna take them both!”
“Don’t you think he should,” Mihawk choked, wishing it was just the sting of the hook making his throat tight. “We’ll get through tomorrow, then we'll say goodbye to our little pets. Our little prisoners. They’ve served their purpose—“
He hissed, knowing there was blood beneath that press of metal, wet heat dripping down his skin. It was almost enough pain to relax him. Almost.
“You don’t get to decide that,” Crocodile growled, bringing his face in close to breathe scotch scented fury over Mihawk’s skin. “You spoiled, selfish, little prince. Finally grown a conscience, and now you’re making it everyone else’s fucking problem.”
Mihawk was away, leaving the hook empty, except for his own pretty blood. He didn’t bother to stop the flow of it down his chest before he snarled back. 
“We can’t force them to stay, sandman,” he declared, his breath heavier than he’d expected. “I won’t do that to them again, not—“
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Crocodile sighed as he cleaned his hook with a handkerchief, white fabric staining red. 
“And why is that,” Mihawk purred, eating up the anger, preferring it over everything else. 
“If they wanna go, we’ll let them go,” the larger man conceded. His deep voice was almost weak with those words, though his next were spoken with power, with the need to make them true. 
“So, we’ll convince them to stay.”
~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~
~~~~~~
Fuck.
You wished that Buggy’s arms could make you feel safe from the parade of memories, of demands that dragged you back down. 
It was stupid. Of course you couldn’t be free. 
A choked laugh tore from your throat. Buggy tried to soothe it away, but the insanity of it all was too much.
You had felt safe. You’d felt fucking happy with these men that threatened to kill you, to sell you into slavery. Even though you were never without fear, you’d somehow felt good with the men that owned you. Felt good with the men that threatened to kill your lover, that had beaten him bloody, humiliated him, then made you crave them so fucking badly that you almost begged them… that you had begged them to fuck you like a whore in front of him. 
Just to escape your boring, privileged life.
All of that guilt you’d tried to shove down deep was back, and Buggy’s sweet smile that had made it all okay felt like a mirage. His loving arms around you made you feel sick. 
I am sick.
He was right. He wouldn’t even have to fake it. I’m everything he said. Damaged. Wrong. Worthless. 
Buggy deserves better. 
“What’s wrong?”
More brittle laughter escaped your raw throat, and Buggy chuckled at himself.
“Sorry, baby. That list is fucking massive, isn’t it,” he soothed, hands tracing over your skin. “Wanna take a shower with me?”
He carried you, helped you, kissed you, dried you, and made you wear some of his lipstick, chasing your lips with it until you laughed and gave in. 
“Why don’t you care?”
“What,” he coughed, eyes wide as he reached for you.
“About my… About who I am?”
He looked confused, almost as if he’d forgotten. Almost as if he really didn’t see you differently. You couldn’t fucking handle that thought either way. 
“Why would I care about your shitty family,” he scoffed, grabbing and squishing your cheeks. “All I care about is how long I have to wait before I can start making fun of you for your fancy trust fund.”
Your mouth would have fallen open in shock if he hadn’t been squeezing your face so hard. He smirked at you, looking way too fucking proud of himself.
“You. Dick,” you hissed reaching out to punch his arms, his stomach, anything you could reach. Buggy cackled as he floated each body part away just before you could hit it. You squirmed out of his grip, and he floated around you, sticking his tongue out while you huffed. “I’m gonna kill you!"
“Ooh, how much do hitmen cost? I bet rich girls can hire all the best assassins!”
“Buggy– mnf.”
“I still love you,” he whispered against your lips after shoving you against the wall. “That’s never gonna change, no matter what happens, star.”
Somehow there were still tears left in you, but he caught them with his gloved thumbs, giving your red lips a gentle kiss. 
“I love you too, Bugs.”
"Of course you do,” he winked, leading you out of the suite. “Ya hungry, pretty star?”
~~~
“Good afternoon, Y/N,” Mihawk drawled as he pulled a chair out for you. “How are you feeling?”
Uncomfortable wasn’t even close to covering it. 
They let you sit by Buggy, let him hold your hand, and they stared at you with eyes that might have held concern. Or they might have had dancing berries behind them, imagining what sort of price tag you had branded under your skin. 
“Not great,” you said blandly, hating not knowing what they were going to do with you. 
The lunch went on, and they didn’t push. Didn’t try to speak with you more than some awkward small talk, and a polite request for the salt shaker. All they did was observe you.
“I want to call my sister.”
“Of course, swee– of course,” Crocodile rasped after a pause, pulling his hand back before it could reach across the table. 
“Do you already have a buyer in mind?”
That vicious growl left your throat like lightning, too fast for you to catch. Buggy’s hand went still on your shoulder while you shook with rage. 
“Y/N, we’re–”
“Y/N,” you mocked, almost proud of the way Mihawk’s lips parted when you cut him off. “No rabbits? No sweet girls? Already distancing yourselves from your old pet, huh? I guess you can’t get too attached when you have to put ‘em down, can you?”
Your chair toppled over when you stood, but you resisted the urge to shove those pretty, round tables because you had to stop being there right that fucking second. Had to stop looking at them. You backed away from their shocked faces, the pain and anger in your blood making you dizzy. 
“I hope your next pet survives a little longer,” you spat as you turned to run inside, fleeing down that long corridor. Your eyes were burning with tears, staring at the floor just ahead of your frantic steps.
It felt like only a few seconds had passed before you were caught.
“Hey, bunny,” Shanks cooed, pressing you against him. You clung to his waist, tears spilling against his chest, bare between his loose shirt. “You’re okay, sugar. I won’t let them hurt–”
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Mihawk breathed over your shoulder, so close. Shanks tensed, tilting you ever so slightly, as if preparing to pull you away. Mihawk’s wicked fingers trailed down your back, sending chills through you while he made his promises. “We’re not going to sell you, or ransom you, or hurt you, Y/N. I swear it.”
Detangling yourself from both of them with a shudder, you caught Buggy and Crocodile waiting, watching. 
“Why are you talking to me like that,” you asked, hating how hard it was to swallow the lump in your throat. 
“We didn’t think that you’d want us to talk to you so… intimately, after everything,” Mihawk explained. His fingers flexed, and you closed your eyes against another wave of exhaustion. 
“Can we just pretend today?”
Pathetic.
“What do you mean?” Crocodile came closer, that frightening face going soft, breaking you down. 
“Can we pretend everything’s alright? I just wanna pretend you care until it’s over. Do whatever you want with me, just let me feel… Just let me pretend you care,” you begged softly. Buggy’s arms wrapped around you from behind before his lower body could catch up, squeezing more tears from you. “Please?”
“Rabbit…”
“Come here, sweet girl.”
Buggy let them take you. You let them take you.
Golden eyes were so close, the scent of him making you sigh while he stroked your hair, kissing down your temple, your cheek, your jaw, before helping to lift you into Crocodile’s arms. 
Silver eyes poured over you, his deep voice so calming while you cried against another silk vest, cried as he brought you back to that magical place filled with pleasure and pain. That place where you’d felt both shackled and free.
That stupid, green, velvet couch. 
“My sweet girl. I’d never send you away. Never hurt you, babydoll. Daddy’s here. Whatever you need.”
“My little rabbit, my love. I want you by my side. I want to watch you, my fierce, little bloodhound. Tell me what I need to do, darling. Anything.”
“My shining star. You’re my everything. You’re everything I need.”
Pretty, pretty lies.
~~~
“President Buggy, sir?”
Buggy huffed while he floated his head across the room, sticking his tongue out when he flew over Shanks’ grinning face. His hands didn’t stop petting your legs while you laid across the three laps on the couch. 
“What is it,” he snapped at the intruder through the cracked door. 
“So sorry to interrupt, sir,” the man sputtered, clearing his throat. You couldn’t see him, but his anxiety radiated through the door. “The final dress rehearsal is meant to start soon. Should we… would you like us to run through it without you, sir?”
“No, I…”
Buggy’s hands went stiff, and you turned your head to look over at his concerned face, almost pained when he glanced at you. 
“It’s okay, Buggy,” you croaked, your voice a wreck after all your tears. 
“We can watch your show over dinner again,” Mihawk suggested as he laid his hand over Buggy’s.
“We’ll freshen up,” Crocodile agreed, brushing a bit of hair from your face. “How does that sound, sweet girl?”
The tiniest, most exhausted of smiles touched the corner of your lips before he lifted you, and followed Buggy’s headless body toward the door. 
“Mind if I take a peek backstage, Bugs,” Shanks flirted, wrapping his arm around the clown’s shoulders. “I always love your shows.”
“Don’t get in the way,” Buggy grumbled. You heard Shanks’ pleased laughter while Buggy floated up to press a soft kiss to your lips, and Crocodile’s wide chest kept you warm, and sleepy. “Wanna watch my show, star?”
“Always,” you breathed, wishing you were worth that perfect smile. 
~~~~~~
~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~
“Don’t be so stressed, Bugs,” Shanks beamed, following his grumbly clown through the halls. “You’ll blow ‘em away at the party tomorrow. Then we can take Y/N, and get out of here. Help her smile again. She needs to–”
“You don’t know her,” Buggy hissed, rounding on his old friend. His old friend whose eyes widened a bit at his words, but still kept that fucking smile. 
That perfect fucking smile that made his eyes go a little unfocused every time he saw it. 
So he turned, continuing his scolding while he walked toward the banquet hall, avoiding that face. 
“You don’t know what she needs.”
“You’re right,” Shanks apologized, walking backwards so he could look at his clown. Look at those perfect eyes. “You know her. You’re fucking beautiful together, Buggy. It makes me so happy to see you like that. Loved. She loves you, doesn’t she?”
Shanks watched all those expressions move under that greasepaint, studying each and every one. Trying to figure out the right words to say. 
“She does,” Buggy hesitated. He shouldered past the red haired pirate, forcing the other man to keep up with his quickened pace. Forcing that smile out of his line of sight. 
“Let’s get her out of here,” Shanks urged. Even with their speed through the halls, his voice was calm, quiet, soothing. “You can protect her, Buggy. I’ll help you. You know she’ll never be safe with them. I just want you both to be safe and happy, Bugs.”
Tears. 
Too many fucking tears in her eyes. 
“When did you ask her?”
“What do you mean,” Shanks chirped, skirting around a servant with a stack of nameplates for the tables. 
“I mean, when did you ask her to come with us,” Buggy breathed, pulling Shanks backstage after looking around the banquet hall. The stage was tiny compared to the three rings he was used to, but he could get used to that swanky, private dressing room. 
Especially now that he had Shanks pinned to the mirrored wall inside, those brown eyes flashing with a challenge, and a promise that almost made him forget the world. 
Forget her. 
“When,” he growled, more forcefully than he’d meant to as he shook himself out of Shanks’ spell. Shanks didn’t answer right away, his eyes roaming over Buggy’s face, concern and charm oozing off of him. 
“The first night,” he whispered, cradling Buggy’s cheek, tilting his hips closer. Wanting to get this stress out of Buggy’s eyes, help him feel good, help him get out of here. “You still snore like a sea lion, Bugs. Mihawk didn’t hear me.”
Buggy’s red lips fell open, but he pulled away before Shanks’ thumb could rub across them.
“And the dance. What did you say to her?”
“Just this,” Shanks reassured with a smile. “I can protect you both.”
Shanks’ smile had always brought irritation or need. No, not need. Awe. Buggy had tried to compete with his friend, had fought and struggled for years. 
“I want you with me, Bugs.”
He’d never felt good enough compared to his perfect friend. His perfect friend that was always in charge. Even though his perfect friend said such lovely things about him. 
“I don’t wanna find the One Piece without you, baby.”
Those lovely things. They couldn’t be true. 
“And I don’t wanna leave your pretty star with these monsters.” 
Until finally, Buggy had believed those words. Believed that perfect smile. 
“Let me make it all up to you. Anything you need.”
But in the end, that smile had brought him nothing but pain. 
Nothing until…
“Come with me,” Shanks purred, not caring about all that greasepaint when he flipped Buggy around, shoving his clown against the mirror to kiss the surprised, little moans from his lips. “I want you so bad, Buggy. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Buggy’s eyes fluttered closed when Shanks’ fingers reached for him, finding his cock already hard beneath that bright, red fabric. Shanks let out a satisfied hum as Buggy lost himself, melting under that smile that said so many lovely things. 
Melting under that hand that knew his body so well.
“President Buggy, sir?”
~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~
~~~~~~
The snail went on and on. 
You’d let Mihawk take care of you, wiping your face, kissing you, rubbing cool lotion onto your flushed skin, kissing you, fixing your face up before kissing across it again.
“Lovely, little rabbit,” he’d purred before setting you up with the transponder snail. You were shocked when they left you in the lounge all alone, until you remembered that he could hear you from a mile away. 
Pretending. We’re just pretending.
“Hello?”
“Kat? Oh gods, hi! Kat, it’s me,” you panicked, realizing you hadn’t planned anything to say. 
“Y/N? Are you okay? Fuck, tell me it’s you, sis.”
“Kat,” you laughed, relief and joy flooding your drained body, waking you out of your daze. “It’s me. I helped you cheat your way through stats so you would—“
“So I would help you get out of those creepy match making parties mom kept—“
“Kat, I’m so sorry.”
“Kat?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I mean,” you grimaced, hating it all. “You were right. They found out who I am.”
“How much is the ransom?”
Sighing, you leaned back, tapping your head against the chair. 
“I don’t know yet, but I’m okay. They let me call you.”
“… The Cross Guild?”
Fogginess filled your mind again, trying to mesh all of your worlds together.
“That clown,” she explained, her voice getting hushed. “Your clown, and his cronies, right? I saw the flyers.”
“Oh,” you relaxed, picturing that colorful flyer that had caused so much trouble. “Yeah, but don’t worry. They haven’t hurt me. I think they’ll just ransom me back. Uncle’s gonna love—“
“You should really listen to him.”
Kat’s voice was lined with stress, something you never missed. 
“Kat, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she clearly lied, your sister’s shrill voice too easy to read. “It’s just been long enough, you know? Things are good here, and you could… we could all be happy.”
“Happy,” you breathed, not wanting to give in to anger. 
“Yeah,” she brushed off, clearing her throat. “Mom’s coming, so I… I love you, sis.”
“Love you—“
“See you soon.”
The snail stared back at you for too long, its slow moving eyes making you dizzy. 
Unease bubbled under your skin, Kat’s strained voice replaying in your mind. 
“Something’s wrong,” you declared to empty air, your voice hollow. 
“What is it, love,” Mihawk asked, appearing on the desk before you. 
“Kat’s stressed.”
“What about, sweetheart,” Crocodile prompted as he came to lean over the desk beside the other man. 
“He’s done something,” you trailed off, mind going hazy around the edges. 
“We’ll help you, darling,” Mihawk whispered before kissing your wrist, your eyes fluttering from his simple touch amidst all your chaos. 
“Please, don’t send me back.”
~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~
The plea was dry, futile, almost silent while your eyes got lost around the desk. The moment the words left your lips, you went limp. Your mouth slack, drool forming, ready to spill if you got stuck for too long. 
Nothing. 
Nothing. 
Just how he wants me.
What looked like panic in their eyes at the horrifying laugh you let out made you laugh even more, your fingernails scraping deep into your thighs while that grating sound tore through you.
“You can try to own me. I tried to let you. But he won’t let you. You’ll have to buy me first,” you warned in a harsh whisper, insanity creeping and creeping. 
“Sweetheart?”
“Nope,” you giggled, shaking your head too fast. “No sweethearts for me! No love for me. Just work. Nothing else.”
“Y/N…”
“Y/N,” you parroted Mihawk again, your voice breaking. “Please pretend. Please pretend you—“
~~~⚫️⚫️⚫️~~~
“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, kneeling at your feet, your head in his hands. “Let us help you, rabbit. I…”
“Help me by pretending,” you sat up, voice clear when you brushed the fresh tears away. “I want to pretend. I want you to pretend to care for one more day.”
His strong hands gave in as you stood to walk away. 
“Please, pretend.”
You were in his arms, resting your head in the crook of his neck, feeling Crocodile’s strong presence beside him.
“Thank you.”
“All you gotta do is tell us what you want, sweet girl.”
“Thank you, daddy.”
~~~~~~
~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~
Murder. 
Murder roiled just beneath the surface of their skin, bodies made up of raw nerves.
A panicked glance shared between them helped nothing, except to confirm that something was fucking wrong. 
Something far worse than what they’d thought.
Mihawk held Y/N against him, pretending to be light, pretending to be the person he’d been for her before.
The person he’d been when he wasn’t scaring her, using her, showing her what a monster he was.
But all he wanted to do was shake her. Drag out whatever horrible truth there was inside her precious, little soul so he could stab it to death. 
She’s going to leave us like this. She’s going to leave here broken. 
He glanced at the other man again, wondering if he was just as terrified as he was.
Crocodile was terrified. All he wanted was to protect her. To never hear that jarring, scraping laugh leave her throat again. It was demonic. Wrong. 
His sweet girl should never be in that much pain.
He had to fight not to tear his hook across every wall they passed, through every door frame he ducked under. 
Had to give her what she wanted. To pretend everything was alright. 
To pretend that he wasn’t one of the monsters that made her cry. 
He sat and watched the show, watching her tired face pretending to be happy while her sick laughter clawed through the back of his mind.
I can’t let her leave like this. I can’t let my sweet girl hold that pain. I’m going to fucking gut him. 
~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~
~~~~~~
Woozy. 
But okay. 
So nice to sway back and forth between them. To watch your clown perform. To forget the world. 
Forget everything.
You were pretty good at it. 
Practiced. 
It helped when they’d call you pretty names, trace their warm, strong hands along your back, your thighs. Massaging your hand while you smiled at the shining star on the stage. 
Even the red haired pirate made you smile with his laughter and jokes, with his charm and soothing voice. Even with that missed smudge of red paint on his chin, you smiled at the thought of Buggy being happy. 
“Look at my star,” he hummed, his upper body racing to you faster than his legs could when the show was done. They left the band going for you, letting you sway. “You okay, baby?”
“Mhm,” you lied, not caring what Crocodile did to you now. “I think I need to stand.”
Pushing away from the table, every eye on you felt like pressure, felt like the real world was crushing you.
“Pretend,” you ordered, huffing a laugh at what a spoiled, little rich girl you were. “Everything is fine and we’re having a wonderful night, all of us together. Okay?”
Your three men promised, their voices soothing, but the forth voice cut through when the red haired man stood. 
“Everything is wonderful,” he beamed, offering you his hand. “Would you like to show me what a wonderful dancer you are, bunny?”
He looked so pleased when you snorted, and even more so when you took his hand. You didn’t think about why you shouldn’t or why anyone would stop you. 
I just want to pretend. 
~~~~~~
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
This poor thing. I’ve gotta get her out of here.
Shanks led Y/N to that gleaming floor, sparing just a glance at Buggy. His clown didn’t match his smile, and he couldn’t blame him. 
How could he smile when his poor girl was coming undone?
“Your technique is amazing,” he teased as he kept her from rolling her ankle. “Where did you train?”
“I trained at— shut up,” she narrowed her eyes, so fucking cute. 
“You actually trained,” he laughed, pulling her squirming body against his until her eyes went wide, her breathing slowed. His next words came out soft, but there was no need to hide from his old friend anymore. Mihawk couldn’t stop this. 
“I’ll protect you,” he vowed, watching her eyes clench shut. “Come with me after the party. I don't care about your family’s wealth. I don’t care where you came from. I just care about Buggy, and the One Piece. And now you.”
Those pretty eyes were teary again when they opened, and he felt a twinge of guilt before he charged on. 
“You can be free, Y/N.”
“Tomorrow,” she sighed, body slumping a bit against his. “Tonight we’re pretending that everyone cares, that everyone gets along, that no one would ever use me. Can you pretend?”
The emptiness in her voice made his stomach twist, something foul hiding behind her tired request.
“Of course. Anything for you, bunny,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. When he turned to look for Buggy, he clenched his jaw, fighting to keep tension out of his body while he danced with Y/N. 
Mihawk’s hands were on Buggy, stroking his hair, smoothing over his thigh while the clown laid on the table in front of those scumbags. Even Crocodile leaned closer, rubbing his large hand along Buggy’s back before heading to the dance floor.
“May I have the next dance, sweetheart?”
“Yes, daddy,” she hummed, pulling away from Shanks, not even meeting his eyes before skipping toward her kneeling captor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling when he stood. Her feet dangled while he held her thighs against that massive chest. 
“Mm, see? My sweet girl doesn’t need to be a good dancer when daddy’s around.”
She squealed as the tyrant carried her across the gleaming floor, satisfied laughter floating along behind them. 
Shanks tried not to gape at that sweet girl giggling in the arms of a man that destroyed an entire country for his own fucking greed. 
Poor thing.
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~
“Aren’t you gonna stop them,” Buggy asked, watching his two favorite people head toward the empty dance floor. Wondering why he didn’t feel happier seeing them together. 
“We’re never gonna do that again,” Crocodile rasped, the strange tension in his words making Buggy whip his head around to frown at that intense face. “We’re not going to force either of you to do anything you don’t want to.”
Buggy was rarely out of words, but he simply stared at the man, his red lips parted in almost comical confusion. 
“I’m sorry, Buggy.”
Those words from the swordsman’s lips had Buggy fearing that he’d died, that his mind was imagining ridiculous scenarios while his body left this world. 
But those golden eyes didn’t fade to nothingness. They kept staring at him, those dangerous fingers reaching for his own. 
“The fuck…”
“We’re bad people,” Crocodile announced, and the firmness of it made Buggy crack up, his pretty throat exposed while that blue hair fell back. 
Crocodile felt the urge to be angry. To demand fear. 
That shit was getting old. 
And his little clown was cute when he laughed. His little clown was cute when he made everyone laugh. 
Still annoying. But cute.
“We’re bad people,” Crocodile apologized, smoothing his hand along Buggy’s back. “That’s not gonna change. But I wish we hadn’t been bad to you. We hope… I hope you’ll let us make it up to you.”
Buggy blinked up at Crocodile in shock, and Mihawk almost laughed. It was surprising to hear so many nice words out of such frightening lips all at once, especially without their darling in front of him.
Mihawk cut through layers and layers of guilt to touch Buggy’s lovely hair, to smooth a hand over his thigh. 
No matter which direction he went, he would be hurting someone. There would be no true redemption for a wicked soul like his. 
But he could start here with crystal blue eyes, and a silly nose. A nose he used to ridicule, but lately had caught himself almost smiling at when he saw it. Fighting not to reach for his little clown. And why shouldn’t he reach? Who the fuck was he trying to impress? This clown was more interesting than anyone he could think of. 
“I am a terrible person. A selfish, cruel bastard. An asshole,” he whispered, staring into his clown’s wide eyes.
“Uh, yeah,” Buggy agreed cautiously, a nervous laugh leaving his throat as his eyes flicked back and forth between his tormentors. 
“I’m sorry too, little clown,” Crocodile rasped, fingers pressing in gently against Buggy’s sore muscles. “I know it’s not worth much after everything, but I’d like to take care of you now. Make sure no monster like me hurts you, or our girl again.”
Crocodile watched his little clown try to understand him. He knew it wasn’t worth shit. How could a few words make up for the terror and pain he’d caused? He fought the instinct to slam his hook into the table at his own discomfort, his body not used to accepting guilt. 
But this brave little clown had stood up to him. Over and over. Protected his sweet girl from him before he knew how precious she was. Made her laugh. 
Made him laugh.
“We won’t hurt you if you leave, even if you take her with you. I hope you stay though,” Crocodile confessed, leaning over Buggy as he stood to walk toward the dance floor. “I’d love to spoil you, little clown.”
Buggy almost fell off the table when Crocodile kissed his temple, and the playful smirk on Mihawk’s face didn’t help. 
These men were fucking horrible.
Dickbags. Monsters. Pieces of shits.
But they were also interesting. Relaxing. Intoxicating. Overwhelming. 
They made her smile. Made her scream. 
Mihawk chuckled softly, and Buggy realized that his eyes had fluttered when he thought about these big, scary, bad guys fucking his pretty star. 
Fucking him. 
“So, where’s the after party, Mr. President?”
Buggy let out an embarrassingly high yelp at Shanks’ question, breathed along the back of his neck.
“Our little rabbit wants us to pretend we all get along,” Mihawk purred, danger and challenge in those golden eyes. “Think we can all get along on that giant bed, or should I tell–”
“Can we,” Buggy asked, looking up at Shanks’ grin. 
What if this is it? What if this is the end?
Buggy wasn’t sure which “end” he was more concerned with, and that made him want to beat his head against the table. 
What the fuck do I want?”
~~~🐊🤡🗡️~~~
~~~~~~
I want to forget everything. I want everything to freeze right here, tonight. Never start again. Just this.
“All you gotta do is tell us what you want, sweetheart,” Crocodile promised, his hand tracing down your bare skin after Mihawk freed you from those fancy clothes they’d picked out for you. You giggled when Buggy started from the bottom, kissing up your ankle and shin, shivering when Shanks mirrored him on the other side. 
“You said we all need to get along, right, love,” Mihawk teased, his voice alone making your body tighten with need. “My little vixen… You want everyone to get along inside you, don’t you? Want us to spoil our little darling? Want us to drown you in come?”
“Fuck, please,” you begged, interupting Crocodile’s weak argument against it. Interrupting whatever flimsy excuse he could muster up for why they shouldn’t fuck your brains out tonight. “Please, fucking take me.”
“Anything for you, little rabbit.”
Oh gods.
 So many things. So many sensations. 
Buggy on his knees in front of you, his tongue finding your clit like a fucking magnet. Shanks behind you, his hand holding one of your cheeks aside while his hypnotic tongue made you cry out, teasing, and then fucking your ass while you twitched. 
Mihawk gripped your hair, forcing his tongue into your mouth while you whined before he shoved your head down, shoving your mouth over Crocodile’s thick cock. You cried, struggling against his size, until Mihawk took your place, showing you how it’s done. 
Crocodile threw his head back, and the needy moan from Mihawk’s stuffed throat was enough, Buggy and Shanks’ tongues sending you screaming for the first time that night. 
“Don’t stop,” you begged, falling back against Shanks’ chest while you devoured the sight of Crocodile fucking Mihawk’s throat, fisting that soft, black hair, and calling him his “sweet, little prince.”
“Want us to fuck you, little bunny? Want us inside you?”
“Please, gods…”
“You heard her, Bugs, let’s–” 
“Shut the fuck up, and fuck my girl’s ass already.”
Buggy was already kissing along your cheek as they kneeled on either side of you, whispering to check if it was alright. Lubed fingers were shoved up your ass while your eyes rolled back, not ready for the pressure that was about to fill you. 
“Oh, ffuck…”
“Little bunny likes getting fucked like this, huh? Like my cock in your tight, little ass? How did I know you’d feel so fucking good? Fuck her, Buggy. Let me feel your cock inside her.”
“Buggy!”
“Fuck, star… Gods,” Buggy moaned as he forced himself inside your needy cunt. He kissed you while you fell apart, whimpering and screaming with every greedy thrust. “Shanks…”
“I feel you, Bugs,” Shanks purred, his strong fingers finding your clit. He made you come, screaming your voice away while he talked to your clown. “She’s perfect, Buggy. Let me feel you come inside her. Let’s fill her up. You wanna please him so bad, don’t you? You want his come, bunny?”
“Need it,” you managed to moan while you twitched. 
They may have said more words, but all you knew was their achingly hot pleasure pouring so fucking deep inside you. They filled and filled you while they kissed each other over your shoulder, letting out sweet, little moans while you took everything that their cocks could give you. 
Before they were done fucking each other through your body, you felt Mihawk’s fingers in your hair, tugging just hard enough to pull you out of the feelings you were about to dip into. 
 “Want more, darling?”
“Please.”
“So voracious. I wonder if these little boys can keep up.”
“We're just getting warmed up,” Shanks taunted, fucking his come into your ass with a few wicked thrusts while you spasmed against him. “Can’t wait to see what other tricks our pretty bunny can do.”
“Come here, sweetheart," Crocodile purred from the bed, sitting against the headboard. “Daddy’s cock’ll make you forget everything.”
Whining, you begged to get off of the two cocks that had just made you scream, and onto the one that would rip you apart. 
“Come on, boys,” Mihawk ordered as he helped you line yourself up, their come dripping down to mix with the lube Crocodile had rubbed over himself for you. “Let’s watch our lovely girl’s sweet pussy get destroyed.”
“Fuck, daddy,” you cried out, the stretch of him inside you still a shock after all your time together. “Daddy, it’s too much.”
“Nah, babygirl,” he soothed, kissing your neck while his hand guided your body over his. “You can take it. Take it for daddy. Take everything...”
“My little rabbit,” Mihawk hummed, kissing up the back of your neck. “You love it when we take you like this, don’t you?”
You started to say yes, but when he shoved himself into your come-soaked ass, all you could do was scream. All you could do was pant, and twitch, and come, and then fucking come again when they told you what a good, little girl you were. 
“You fuck our girl so well, little prince,” Crocodile praised, bringing a soft moan from Mihawk’s throat. “Gonna stuff her sweet ass for daddy? Show me what a pretty mess you can make?”
You both cried out, their cocks twitching inside you. So fucking good.
“Mm, be a good boy, and kiss me first. Make our sweet girl come with your fingers again.”
“Daddy,” you fell apart, feeling his lips on yours before you watched him kiss Mihawk over your shoulder. Your head fell to the side, and your eyes rolled back at the sight of Buggy and Shanks with hands and lips all over each other.
But Buggy’s eyes were on you. 
“Buggy,” you whispered at the sight of him, and suddenly he was there. He was kissing you. 
“My little clown,” Crocodile purred, fisting his hand through that gorgeous blue hair. “Wanna make it up to him, little prince?”
“Yes, daddy,” Mihawk breathed, his fingers still making you twitch. 
Buggy had already stopped kissing you, staring back and forth between the two men while they fucked into you, while he trailed his hands down your skin. 
“I wanna take care of you,” Crocodile promised, his voice getting rougher as he fucked you open. “You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you, little clown?”
Your mind was almost lost to it all, almost fucked out, but his words felt heavy, vital. Your breath caught, waiting for your clown to answer. 
“Yes, daddy.”
“Mm, such a good boy for me,” Crocodile praised, tugging that blue hair a little harder while you came on their cocks again. “Show him how sorry you are, little prince. Suck his dick. Let Buggy fuck that mean little mouth of yours.”
If you weren’t already coming, you knew you would have at those words, at the shocked look on Buggy’s face when Mihawk opened wide, at the sounds they both made when Buggy shoved his floating cock so deep, so fucking fast into the swordsman’s throat. 
“Fuck yeah, daddy’s so fucking proud of you,” Crocodile groaned, thick come spilling down the sides of his cock as he filled you. Mihawk made delicious whimpering noises while he came in your ass, Buggy’s cock strangling him, then spilling across that perfect face when it pulled away. 
You caught Buggy’s eyes when he stared at his mess, his satisfaction making you twitch again. Mihawk reached for Buggy, kissing him hard over your shoulder. 
The door closed. It wasn’t a slam. That probably would have helped you remember why there was a door at all, let alone another human being on the fucking planet. 
But the door shut, and Buggy was gone, leaving your body screaming until your other lovers let you loose, praising, and kissing, and touching, until you shivered with pleasure. Carrying you into the shower like they had that first night. 
Buggy returned, helping to scrub Crocodile’s shoulders, making you all laugh under that lovely, warm water. 
So many pretty lies. 
Smiling against Buggy’s chest, with Crocodile curled up behind you, and Mihawk’s hand touching you from around Buggy’s body, you felt perfect. 
This was exactly what you’d wanted. 
Exactly the kind of pretend you had asked for. 
Tonight you only dreamed of the transponder snail, and you decided not to answer. 
~~~~~~
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
It was already too much. Too much that Buggy couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. 
It’s okay. He loves her. We’ll take her away.
Those words rang through Shanks’ mind while his clown couldn’t look away from the monsters in that bed. It was okay, even when Buggy left him without a second glance to kiss her. It was just for her.
Until it wasn't.
He called him daddy.
He let Mihawk… 
Mihawk had… 
Now they're kissing like that… 
Shanks had to leave. 
“Shanks, hey! Where ya going?”
The red haired emperor rarely had to lie. Rarely had to fake a thing. Never had to fake a smile. 
But he did now.
Shanks plastered a smile on his face, tilting his head at his lovely, old friend. 
“I’m good, Bugs,” he lied, moving close. He was about to touch his chin, but the thought of Mihawk there made him pause. “You should sleep in there with her. If you come with me tomorrow, then this is your last night to play pretend with them.”
“But–”
“It’s okay,” Shanks lied again, getting over himself to kiss those faded red lips. “I’ll be here in the morning, Bugs. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Soft, sweet eyes scanned his face, so Shanks held onto that fake smile as tight as he could. Wanting his clown to be happy.
“Okay,” Buggy whispered, reaching for his hips to pull him closer. You can join us if you want. I’m sure–”
“I’ll be alright,” Shanks laughed, fighting not to shove Buggy back into that room, and slam the door on his new life that made no fucking sense. “Goodnight, baby. Dream about me.”
A bit of satisfaction ran through him at the shudder Buggy gave when he teased those words, kissing below his ear. The emperor turned around before his clown could say another word.
Shanks needed to get the fuck out of there. 
Before he hurt someone. 
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
Mihawk couldn’t recall feeling the amount of pleasure, safety, and comfort that he had tonight. The warmth and slow breathing of his three lovers would have had him drifting off. 
Yet, he couldn't recall feeling the level of terror and helplessness he had felt when he watched Y/N fracture, the chaos in her distant eyes sending ice through his veins.
His darling's secrets kept him awake, especially at the searing thought that she might leave with Shanks. She might leave before he could hunt and kill whatever had poured that poisonous laughter down her throat.
That laughter.
“Hey, Hawk Eyes.”
Shanks’ quiet voice taunted through the halls, dangerous laughter floating with it.
“I know you’re awake, old friend. Let’s have a chat.”
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
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Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!
a/n: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the DRAMA! How's everybody doing?
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Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak
Part 21
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Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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Well fuck now I wanna write a few thousands of words of Niffty and Husk kicking so much ass.
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rinhaler · 7 months
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𝐀𝐌 𝐈 (𝟐𝟓𝐅) 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 (𝟐𝟖𝐌)
i know it sounds bad but we got high and he's hot!!
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ plug!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot Notes: thank u 2 @chososdoll for beta reading for me!! this is part of @ohkento's reddit-inspired collab! (ps this isnt a true form fic i just think he looks SEXY IN THAT PIC HNNNNGN) Warnings: 18+, dubcon, mean dom!sukuna, sub!reader, cheating, hate sex ♡, drug taking, weed smoking, blowbacks/shotgunning, heavy degradation, slight praise, fingering ♡, vaginal sex, sixty-nineing ♡, face sitting, squirting ♡, pussy spanking, noncon filming, coercion, manipulation, daddy!kink, creampie, cervix fucking. Words: 10.6k
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“I’ve heard about you.” Yuuji starts, turning his head from looking up at the stars to facing you. Your mind feels cloudy, but you return his stare. He thinks your pearly smile belongs in the sky; a permanent constellation to remind him of this moment. “How come this is my first time meeting you?”
You sigh, reaching over as he hands a lit spliff to you. The bonfire rages in front of you both, the smoke burning your eyes until they fill with water.
At least you have the perfect cover if you burst into tears.
“Things got… hard.” you tell him, not really wanting to elaborate. But golden-brown puppy dog eyes will you to continue. It’s stupid, really, how cliché people become when they smoke. You’re no exception. The intoxication and the setting make you feel as though you’re in an indie movie, longing to share your scars and become closer to the one attractive boy giving you his attention. “My ex, he cheated on me. I was with him for two years so it hurt.” you confess, taking a thick drag before passing it back to him, he tuts as he takes it from you.
“I’m really sorry,” he expresses, holding eye contact while he smokes. The feeling rushes straight to his head and through his blood. He laughs a little as he gets comfortable in his seat. “Sorry… I’m not laughing at you.” he clarifies, laughing again.
You start to laugh too, leaning over to grab the spliff from his hand before he sets the back garden on fire with it. Both of your attention is pulled from each other as you hear a scream from inside. The party is still going on indoors, and the scream soon turns into a girly laugh.
No doubt one of your friends flirting with one of the other guys.
“It’s okay.” you assure him, getting just as comfortable in your own seat as you smoke the remainder of the joint. You wrap yourself in the blanket you brought outside and turn your body slightly to face him. “It was with my best friend, too.” you continue, your deepest wound not seeming so scarring as you allow the high to expose your secrets on your behalf.
“Shit.” he shakes his head.
“I’ve been doing therapy and stuff so I’m better. I just wasn’t in the mood to see people…” you explain, jolting upright a little as you realise you’re oversharing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so deep and make you feel uncomfortable.” you tell him.
“I’m fine, I’m the one who asked.” he chuckles, getting comfier under his own blanket as he turns to look at you.
His warm eyes make you feel relaxed, safe. And you hate it. You hate how much of a cliché you really are becoming and you hate that you can’t help it. This moment feels so much bigger than anything, but deep down, you’re paranoid, because you’re sure it’s the drugs talking.
You’ve heard about Yuuji, too.
You’ve heard about how sweet he is and how he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. He has a sports scholarship of some kind, and after a quick stalk of his socials you noted how reflected this is in the form of his chiseled body. Could he really be so nice? He seems, perfect.
And apparently he, gives the best head.
“I have a secret.” he tells you, quietly. His voice almost drowned out by the crackling bonfire beside you. You aren’t sure what makes you heat up so quickly. The implication of his words or the way he said them. A lustful look in his eyes as the fire dances wildly beside you both.
“Yeah?” you tell him, cheeks fill with warmth as you try to ignore how fucking hot it is in pursuit of looking cool. And that makes you giggle, for some reason. Yuuji isn’t the one making you flush with heat, it’s the fire, idiot. “T-Tell me.” you encourage him, throwing off your blanket and fanning yourself dramatically.
So much for looking cool.
He grins, almost coyly, as he leans across the arm of his chair. And for some reason, you instinctively mirror him. Is it so secret that you need to be close? He might whisper it to you.
He tilts his head, smirking. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips a few times. Enough times that you make a note of it. And your heart is fucking racing with each flicker of his gaze. You think you know what’s coming. But you stay still, watching him, waiting for him to make the first move.
“… I really wanna kiss you.” he admits. And if you weren’t hot before, you certainly are now. You try, and likely fail, to keep it cool. A wide grin spreads across your face and you burst into giggles. But your eyes meet his again, and you see a smile just as wide as yours on his face as he observes you.
“Yeah?” you ask, dumbly.
“Yeah.” he nods.
You gulp, shallowly, leaning in closer to him and letting your eyes fall closed. He smirks, again, leaning in until your lips meet. It’s sweet and passionate, until he pulls away. It surprises you a little. Worries you, even. Are you a bad kisser? Maybe you are when you’re high. But worry turns to astonishment as he pulls your chair closer to until the arms of both of your seats touch. He smirks, again, wrapping his arm around your neck as he leans in to kiss you.
And now, you really do hate yourself.
You moan into it.
You aren’t even sure where it came from. Was that really you? He grins, nonetheless, a feeling of pride swelling in his chest as his tongue meets yours in a more than welcome manner. You pull away, a string of spit connecting you both. A kiss infused daze covers your features as you look at him under heavy eyelids, and you pant, deeply.
“I have another secret.” he whispers, stealing another sweet kiss from your raw lips. Gloss smeared over your lip line and a dewiness transferred to his.
“Is it as good as the first?” you tease, giggling as his hand cups your face. You mewl, melting into his touch as his thumb strokes your cheek delicately. Your eyes widen. A look of curiosity replaces the majority of the lust, though you both know it’s still lurking.
“Well,” he starts, his eyes begin to wander. You observe him as his vision roams from the sky to the flames beside you. He takes his time, the anticipation of his words runs rampant through your bloodstream. Until, finally, he blesses you with his gaze once more. “I want to stay with you until the sun comes up. I want you to sit on my lap, with my cock inside you, under our blankets. All night.”
You’d hoped once he told you that your anxiety would have diminished. Though you’re sure with the way his eyes are fixated on your lips, your heart is surely surveying an escape route from your slack-jawed mouth as it pumps hard and violently through you. He doesn’t seem worried that you haven’t said a word, and his gaze doesn’t falter.
“Okay.” you nod.
It excites you. You haven’t been with anyone since your ex. And it might be a bad idea, but it doesn’t stop you. It’s not like you’re rushing into being with someone. It’s been months since things ended with your cheating ex-boyfriend. You stand up, bringing your blanket as you stand over Yuuji, and he holds your hips gently.
He feels under your skirt, smiling when he feels how soaked your panties are but he doesn’t comment. He moves them into the crease of your thigh and encourages you to straddle him.
You do.
Hovering slightly as he pulls down his joggers and his semi springs free. It’s big and pretty, like him. You kiss him as he jerks himself until he’s aching. He’s desperate to bury it inside of your gummy walls, his cock catches against your eager hole with every purposeful stroke.
He throws his head back as you sink down on him, and your hips stutter slightly from the stretch. You’re trying to focus on concealing your bodies with the fuzzy blanket wrapped around you, but your lips fly to his in a bid to silence yourself as he sheaths himself fully.
“Fuck, you’re tight… so wet, too.” he mumbles, hips rolling ever so slightly as he enjoys the feeling of being inside of you raw.
You jolt, panicked, as you hear a knock from the kitchen window. Both of your attention is stolen to see the origin, and you spot a group of partygoers hollering from inside. Two of his friends and one of yours, they all cheer and whoop as they can only assume what’s going on under the blanket.
Yuuji smiles, shaking his head before turning back to capture your lips in another soft kiss. You’re too distracted to notice him flip them off until they disappear.
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“Do I remember the night the most perfect woman in the world let me hit her raw after a few minutes of talking under the stars? Yes, baby, I remember the best night of my life, why?” Yuuji asks after you recall that first night you met. “Very cool of you, by the way. I didn’t think you were gonna say yes.”
You giggle, punching his arm softly as you curl into his side in bed. And you sigh, dreamily, thinking about it again. It’s been over a year since that night and you feel just as hazy around him as you did then. You were worried about him thinking of you as a one night stand. Worried that you’d just given in to this stranger for no real reason only to get your feelings hurt again.
But as the sun began to rise and wake you both up in that horrendously uncomfortable chair, he kissed your forehead and held you tightly against his chest. He stroked your hair until you managed to blink the blurriness from your eyes and see his in a new light. The crackle of the orange and white flames had gone from them. Instead, they were honeyed and soft. The kindest eyes you’d ever seen.
“The McDonald’s breakfast in the carpark was better than the sex in the garden, by the way.” you tease him, earning a tickle attack into your sides.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why you were begging me to fuck you in the backseat afterwards.” he laughs, stopping his assault as you begin to scream. You cuddle into him again, his fingers tracing over the flesh of your upper arm. “It was good though, really good. Should we order hash browns?”
“Yes.” you nod, excitedly.
He sits up and reaches over to his bedside cabinet to grab his phone. He sighs as he checks his notifications. You sigh, too, watching him as he gets out of your warm bed in search of his clothes.
So much for hash browns.
“Yuuji…” you start.
“Don’t start, please, I don’t wanna leave in a bad mood.” he tells you. He smirks when he realises you’re checking out his abs, only focusing on him again as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. “I don’t want to rush moving in just because you feel sorry for me.”
“I’m not rushing you, and I don’t feel sorry for you!” you tell him, shuffling onto your knees and crawling across the bed until you’re kneeling beside the edge of the mattress. “I hate your brother. He’s a creep and he treats you like shit. I have plenty of room here… you can move in here and have your own space and—”
“I know he’s a dick.” he agrees, pulling on his socks and slipping his feet into his sneakers. “But he’s my only family. I’m not just gonna ditch him. Why don’t you move in with me?” he wonders.
“Um… I live in a townhouse instead of an apartment and it’s better, it’s in a better neighbourhood and your brother isn’t here.” you smile, smugly, and it earns a chuckle from him.
“Okay, you’re right about that. Speaking of which though I can’t stay tonight but you can come over if you want. I’ll order those hash browns for you tomorrow when I’m on my to the gym. I’m booked with PT sessions my entire shift.”
“I’m not waking up at 6am to eat hash browns alone, Yuuji.” you roll your eyes.
“You can text me when you wake up and I’ll order them for you. Pleeeeease?” he flutters his eyelashes dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Good girl.”
“I didn’t say yes?” you respond, flabbergasted. “Is Sukuna gonna be there?”
“Well, yeah. He lives there.” Yuuji tells you, earning an eye roll from you. He is in complete agreement on how much his older brother sucks. He understands why you hate him. He’s irritating, he’s crass and seems to have no concept of personal space or privacy. Yuuji doesn’t care for his brother in the least, and he has no doubt the feeling is mutual. There is love there, of course, but only out of necessity. “You don’t seem to mind him when the family discount applies for weed, though. Interesting.” he says with faux suspicion.
“Okay, that is literally the only thing he’s good for.” you remind him. He laughs, agreeing.
He kisses your lips chastely, hurrying to grab his backpack to hurry home to his expectant brother. The only two reasons he ever leaves you in haste are for work, or for Sukuna. Today was meant to be a day you could spend together since you both have the day off.
But of course, Sukuna ruins everything.
YUUJI: FORGOT TO ASK YUUJI: ARE WE SMOKING TONIGHT? YOU: DUH! YUUJI: BETTER BE NICE TO SUKUNA FOR THAT FAMILY DISCOUNT THEN 😉
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You stand outside of your boyfriends apartment complex, shivering, waiting for somebody to answer the door. He ordered a taxi for you since he knows you always worry about your car getting broken into when you visit, his own car suffering numerous break-ins in the span of your relationship.
And really, you don’t want somebody to answer the door. You want it to be Yuuji, specifically, the thought of Sukuna answering the door and tormenting you until you get to the safety of Yuuji’s room is entirely too much to handle. Your nerves are already shredded by being here, the thought of having a battle of words with Sukuna will surely tip you over the edge.
“Oh, hey, I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.” you hear a voice from behind you. You turn around to see Yuuji. Fuck. You see the hallway light flicker on from under the crack of the front door to his apartment and you realise too late that a demon has been summoned. “I went and got cookie ingredients, I thought we could bake some before we smoke later.”
“Sounds fun.” you smile, his sweet idea assuages the tension you feel, albeit briefly, before his elder brother swings open the front door. Yuuji pulls his lips into a thin line when you can barely contain the scoff that scratches through your throat. Sukuna rolls his eyes, moving aside to let you both in. He peaks inside the bag Yuuji is holding before his little brother smacks his hand away. “Do not touch or I will kill you.” Yuuji warns him, carrying the ingredients to the kitchen before putting them away.
You decide to help, hoping it will go quicker if you pitch in and you can escape his brother’s intimidating stare faster. Sukuna approaches, leaning over a counter as he watches you both.
“Nice of you to grace us with your presence, princess. It’s been a while.” Sukuna taunts, but you ignore him. He clacks his fingernails against the countertop, and the sound is jarring. He smirks when you shoot him a pointedly aggravated stare, giving him reason to do it more. “What do we owe the pleasure?”
You sigh, nostrils flaring as you put two bars of chocolate in the fridge.
“We’re just hanging out, gonna bake these cookies and smoke.” Yuuji answers for you. So you smile, falsely, and rest your back against the wall once you’re done. “Oh, speaking of which… family discount?”
“I’m busy now.” Sukuna looks at you and then back at his brother. “Ask me later.” he expresses, red eyes fixed on you for a moment before he turns to leave.
It’s like you can finally breathe again when you hear him go to his room and close the door. You kick yourself away from the wall and into Yuuji’s open arms. He smooths his heavy hand over your hair, hoping you’ll relax a little. He spends some time figuring out what you can do to pass some time, knowing you’ll need a distraction.
“Let’s just bake the cookies.” you speak, words muffled as you talk into his shirt. You pull away as he looks down at you so that you can speak to him clearly. “I just wanna stay in your room all night…”
“Sure, baby, whatever you want.” he nods. “Okay, lets get all of the ingredients out again.”
He takes his time trying to remember where everything is. You, on the other hand, are rushing to gather them all. Sukuna has a way of making your anxiety spike. He’s too… commandeering. He has a way of forcing everyone’s attention to remain solely on him whether you try to ignore him or not.
You’re intimidated by him, he’s more muscular than your boyfriend and he’s a drug dealer for fuck sake.
It brings shame to you when Yuuji has to snap his fingers to get you out of your trance as you think about his brother. You start cutting up the chocolate bars while he puts ingredients in the stand mixer.
And your mind wanders, again. It’s not like you’re scared of Sukuna. Well, you are, terrified would be more apt. But you know he wouldn’t do anything to you. He’d risk losing Yuuji. And as much as they don’t really get along, they’re extremely co-dependent. Especially Sukuna. He likes the presence of his little sibling and has a slight superiority complex due to being older.
The reality is, you think Sukuna would be lost without Yuuji. Lonely, even. And having Yuuji’s steady income is a nice sense of security for him. He makes plenty of money being a dealer, of course, but he knows it’s a fools game. It’s not reliable and it’s risky.
You put the chocolate chunks into the mixer and watch him as he masterfully fills the ingredients into the bowl. Your thoughts calm for a moment as you can do nought but watch the whisk whir.
“You know I wanna move in with you eventually, right?” Yuuji tells you, and it fully breaks you from your train of thought. You look at him, staying silent so that he can feel free to continue speaking. He leans against the counter as the ingredients continue to mix. “I wanna live with you… marry you… all that.”
His talk of marriage makes your cheeks fill with heat, though you’ve gotten better at playing things cool since your first encounter. You just smile, and nod, as you drink in the delicious information.
“I’m just worried about him.” he tilts his head, indicating he is referring to his elder brother. You nod in understanding, though you don’t have much sympathy for your future brother-in-law. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. “We aren’t like you, we don’t have a big family. It’s just us.”
“Well my family isn’t that—” you stop yourself, looking into Yuuji’s disappointed eyes. It’s foolish to pretend you aren’t blessed with an adoring family. You’re your parents only child, though. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have a sibling. And, of course, you’re spoilt rotten. The reality is that if you didn’t come from privilege, you and Yuuji could have been neighbours. But your parents weren’t about to let you live in a dangerous neighbourhood when they can easily afford to subsidise you. “It must be tough, baby. I know you feel guilty for wanting to leave him.” you rub your hand up and down his arm as a show of comfort.
“Yeah…”
“But…” you start, his eyes locking with yours again. “He’s a grown man, Yuuji. You’ve lived the same life and look at you now… You’re nothing like him.”
You’re right. He knows you are, that’s why you’re standing in silence until the timer goes off and he checks the ingredient bowl. It’s sticky. He scoops a little on his finger and dots it on your nose. The kitchen fills with laughter as you try to retaliate. He’s too fast for you, though.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he tells you as the situation calms. He licks the chocolatey dough from your nose and presses a gentle kiss onto the tip. And dammit you can’t help but smile.
You begin rolling the dough into balls on a tray. The silence has dissipated, but your thoughts still run rampant. Should Sukuna really be Yuuji’s responsibility? No, of course not. But Yuuji won’t see it that way. He’s sensitive and caring. God, he cares so much.
It makes you dizzy as you watch him smile and walk with the cookies to the oven. They smell so great already, you could have eaten them raw. But they’ll be even better when they’re baked to perfection.
You’ve made these cookies so many times now. The pair of you have process committed to memory. They’re so good. Especially with a tall glass of milk. You always tease Yuuji when you do this since he’s always left with a milk moustache after devouring his plate of cookies.
The sound of the timer rings through the kitchen again. You clap excitedly as Yuuji covers his hands with some oven mitts. The chocolatey smell hits you both like a train, the pair of you moaning involuntarily as you inhale it. He brings them over to the countertop, setting them down to cool.
Sukuna smells it, too. He loves it when you bake cookies because he knows neither of you will deny him one. He’s been smoking and playing video games since he retreated to his room. He’s thoroughly stoned and would very much enjoy a sweet treat right about now. He pauses his game, and the sound of his door opening and closing brings back all of the tension to your body.
“Here.” Sukuna speaks as he enters the kitchen. He tosses a baggie onto the counter and looks at his brother expectantly. Yuuji nods, reaching into his pocket for his wallet so he can pay him. Sukuna’s eyes are fixed on you in the meantime. And as you go to grab the weed, he places his hand over it and pulls it back towards himself.
“Thanks, man.” Yuuji smiles, handing the cash to his brother who pockets it without even checking it’s right. Though Sukuna’s stare doesn’t waver, you find yourself looking down at his hand covering the weed and then turning away completely. He internally beams with pride at that, thrilled to know it’s still so easy to intimidate you. But on the outside it’s simply portrayed as a slight curve of the corner of his mouth. “Is something wrong?” Yuuji wonders.
“Yeah, actually,” Sukuna speaks, finding your eyes again before he looks into Yuuji’s. “I want a cookie, call it family tax.”
“Take two.” you tell him, sternly, a new ferocity in your eyes he hasn’t seen before. You walk over to them and place two cookies on a little plate for him. You go to hand it to him, but as he reaches out to grab them you place them down on the counter. “Let them cool.” you smile, sarcastically.
“Aren’t you sweet.” Sukuna snarls, teeth bared as he slides the plate towards himself. “Sweet enough for your turn. Pay up, you know what I want.” he chuckles. He turns his head and taps his finger against his cheek.
“C’mon, dude…” Yuuji tries to interject. You know Yuuji is furious, deep down. But he won’t call him out on it. Last time he did he wouldn’t give either of you any weed for two weeks. It wouldn’t be a problem if you knew anyone else you could buy from. And the shit Sukuna gets is good. Yuuji has given up on trying to be a dominating presence when it comes to living with his brother. Sukuna is always one step ahead and Yuuji can’t quite keep up.
You go to him, reluctantly, and plant a soft kiss to his cheek. It makes your skin crawl. He makes your skin crawl. And despite your sense of urgency to flee the scene, you can’t. His hand grabs your wrist, and Yuuji is ready to spring to action. Sukuna’s face is unbearably close to yours. His red eyes piercing your own as he does all he can to make you feel small and pathetic.
“That’s a good girl.” he sneers, placing the baggie on the top of your hand after releasing your wrist. He chuckles, darkly, as he walks away with his plate of cookies, taking a bite out of one before he disappears. He kicks his bedroom door shut behind himself, the sound of laughter and guns shooting loudly from his TV are the only thing either of you can hear.
“I’ll bring the cookies and clean up.” Yuuji sighs as he ventures to the sink. “Go and get comfy and pick a movie.”
You don’t say anything, leaving your boyfriend to tidy up in silence. You’re seething with rage. This isn’t right. He does this every single time you’re here and you buy a deal from him. And Yuuji just lets him. You know you neither of you have much choice if you want the access and ability to smoke. But it’s getting to you, badly.
Around fifteen minutes pass after you left the kitchen. You’ve since gotten into your sweatpants and comfortable vest. Shorts would have been preferable, since there’s still an uncomfortable sizzle to the November air, but you’ve learnt your lesson about what you wear when you visit the Itadori household. You’ve had Sukuna leer at your thighs more times than you can count. And it’s never subtle, his eyes lingering for a moment too long to have it potentially be an accident. It’s always so lecherous and purposeful.
You decide to watch Clueless, again. You’re sure Yuuji will be defeated when he sees your choice, he’s lost count of how many times you’ve watched it recently. It’s been a comfort movie to you, for some reason, since Halloween.
“Hey.” Yuuji smiles as he enters the room, somehow managing to carry two glasses of milk and two plates of cookies. “What are we watching?” he asks, looking at the TV. You rush to grab a plate and a glass from his hands to ease his load, putting them on your bedside cabinet as he does the same with his own.
“Clueless.” you smile, happily. “Her step-brother has been hitting really different for me, lately.”
He closes his eyes and stifles a sigh. You can see a laugh desperate to break free as his mouth shakes through a smile. But to his credit, he manages to compose himself, eyes opening again once the reality has set in. Clueless. Again!
“Sounds great baby.”
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It’s been a week since you last got to spent time with Yuuji. Your work schedules have been clashing, it feels like a lifetime since you got to spend any time together.
You enjoyed your hash browns in bed after he ordered them for you when you stayed over at his place. Though he ended up ordering Sukuna breakfast, too, leading to uncomfortable extended time with him that you prefer to avoid at all costs. He tried to make conversation with you, he often does, but you took it upon yourself to go back to bed with your hash browns. You tried to enjoy them. You tried to relax. But it’s near impossible when you’re under the same roof as someone you loathe. You watched a Youtube video on your phone while you ate, and then quickly got ready and booked a taxi home.
You’d hoped next time you got to see your boyfriend it would be at your house and away from Sukuna. But, alas, that was not the case. You received a text from him at 10am asking you to come over ASAP.
YOU: is something wrong??
YUUJI: no
YUUJI: just stressed
YUUJI: pls can u come? I’m working tomorrow so I cant stay over ☹️
YOU: okay ☹️ omw 💖
You’ve never had a text like this from him before, and it scared you. Something was telling you that he was downplaying how he was feeling. It took you barely any time to get ready. Forgoing makeup and making an effort in favour of rushing to your boyfriend’s side. Maybe something had happened at work.
Maybe he cheated on you.
He could be dying!
“Shut up…” you whisper to yourself as you pack your toothbrush into its travel case and throw it into your overnight bag. You pick up your car keys, not wanting to waste time waiting for a taxi.
You throw your bag on the passenger seat and speedily drive off. Your anxiety and the adrenaline was getting to you, you knew you’d have to calm down or you’d end up getting into an accident. As you focused on getting to your destination in one piece, you took several deep, slow breaths.
You’re safe.
You park up your car and lock it up. With your bag in tow, you rush to your boyfriend’s apartment. Your left foot taps impatiently after you knock on the door.
No answer.
You knock a little louder.
No answer.
And then you find yourself knocking louder, repeatedly, while you wait for your boyfriend to answer the door. He knew you were coming. He said it was urgent. So why are you waiting here, freezing, for him to answer the door? You’re filled with relief when you see his figure obscuring the light trickling through the cracks of the door. Your teeth chatter, and you begin stepping from foot to foot in a bid to warm through.
But your blood runs cold as the wrong Itadori opens the door.
“Heh. What do you want?” he asks, a cocky grin permeating his features.
“Move.” you demand, barging past him with your bag so that you can hurry to Yuuji’s side. Maybe something is wrong. He could be sick and resting in bed.
“He’s not here.” Sukuna informs you, halting you in your tracks. You turn to face him, a scowl that could kill adorning your face. Did he do something to him? All fear you’ve ever felt from him dies as you approach him, setting down your bag so that you can hit or punch or scratch him if needs be. “Relax.” he tells you.
“Where is he?”
“At work. I thought you had your entire relationship on a Google calendar, you didn’t know?” he laughs, angling his body so that he can bypass you in the skinny hallway. You huff a little, picking up your bag again so that you can follow him.
“But he asked me to come over, he said it was urgent.” you explain, though he doesn’t stop walking. You hurry after him, grabbing his arm until he stops. And he does, his eyes slowly dart down to where your hand holds onto his bicep until you awkwardly let go. “S-Sorry. I’m just confused. Why would he text me if he’s not even here?”
“Sweetheart, I’m not his PA. I don’t fucking know.” he turns away from you again, opening his bedroom door. You huff, again, utterly defeated as you try and decide what to do. You look towards his bedroom door and then to the entrance. You suppose you could go home until he finishes work. Or you could go to the gym he works at and find out what’s happening. You head towards the front door, thinking you’ll decide once you start driving. Sukuna hasn’t fully retreated into his room yet, leaning against his door frame as he calls out to you. “I’m making a bucket, want one?”
Your eyebrows knot as you turn to face him, another involuntary scoff turning to laughter as you look at him in disbelief. He’s got some nerve. You don’t even want to respond, opting to carry on your journey towards the entrance before you look at him again.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? I don’t want to smoke with you.” you roll your eyes.
“Awe, why not, princess? I won’t even add any tax.” he smirks, already heading towards the kitchen as if you’ve given him the answer he clearly wants to hear. And you hate him with your whole heart, because fuck, if you aren’t intrigued. It’s been a while since you’ve had a gravity bong. “Excellent choice, good girl.” he winks as he sees you out of the corner of his eye, as he grabs an empty one litre water bottle from beneath the sink.
You don’t say anything, leaning over the island counter as he prepares the bong for you both. It’s embarrassing, after some time, that you find yourself having to avert your gaze as realise you’ve been staring at his defined back muscles. He’d decided to forgo any form of clothing to cover his torso, only wearing a low riding pair of grey sweatpants, though they’re a darker grey than yours.
It isn’t much better as he whistles, tilting his head for you to join him by the sink. You’d close your eyes if it didn’t make you look like a complete freak, only to hide them from his flexing abs and his juicy pecs. The tattoos aren’t helping, either. It only serves as a reminder that you’re hopelessly trying not to ogle your boyfriends, older, larger, and scarier brother. He’s behaving interestingly, though. He’s never been like this before. He’s dismissive and almost uninterested in you.
“C’mere.” he orders you, dragging you closer to him as he lights the weed in the bowl. You gulp, a little intimidated. Gravity bongs are something you don’t partake in often, you can’t even remember the last time you did one. He moves his finger from the hole he’d poked into the bottle and the water begins to drain from it. Smoke fills the bottle in it’s wake, and when empty, he screws the lid off for you. “Quickly.”
You begin to inhale everything. Not caring how fucked up you feel in the least. You show no signs of stopping, and it impresses him. Your fingers hook around the kitchen counter as you finish, knowing when your bones feel like jelly that you’ve had too much.
“Atta girl,” he comments before repeating the process for himself. He pays you no mind as you wander towards the corner counter space, lifting yourself up like you’re the queen of the kitchen taking her throne.
He continues to ignore your presence as he smokes, inhaling and entirely draining the smoke that had filled the bottle. He tosses it into the sink, walking by you to grab a bag of ice from the freezer, filling two glasses to the brim with the frozen cubes. He fills them with water, sliding one to you.
“Drink.” he commands, and you do, not realising how thirsty you’d become. Your throat burning and eyes flooded with red veins. You drink the water and immediately need to refill. He shows you a kindness, though, handing you his glass to drink before filling your own again. “You’re a real lightweight, huh?”
“Oh shut up. I’m just gonna go.” you tell him, jumping down from the counter and going to collect your bag again.
“You can’t, you’re high.” he reminds you, and in your stoned state the sentence makes you burst into laughter. “You’ll end up crashing your car. Fool.” he gives you another glass of water, refilling his own for a second time before turning to leave the kitchen.
“Great, so I’m stuck here with you and nothing to do?” you pout, opening the fridge to see if there’s anything to eat. “Why did we not make cookies?” you mumble to yourself.
“I have snacks in my room.” Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, like a snake offering an apple in the garden of Eden. You’re tempted. God, you’re tempted. What else are you going to do until Yuuji gets home? He grins, widely, as he hears your feet follow after him as he walks into his bedroom.
You’ve never been in here before. It’s quite tidy, all things considered. It’s very tidy, actually. You’d expected it to be some dimly lit shit hole. It smells nice, save for the weed, the windows are open wide and the sheets smell fresh as you sit on his bed.
He throws a sleeve of Oreos at you and you turn into a giddy child. The two of you kick off your shoes, not caring for where they land as you both get comfortable on his bed. You’re above the duvet, sitting adjacent to him but angled away with your legs crossed. He gets under the covers, though, picking up his Xbox controller as he mindlessly plays GTA V.
You spend far too much time licking the cream of your first Oreo, utterly entranced by the characters, the plot and the violence of the game he’s playing. He doesn’t seem to mind when you ask him a million questions about it, either. He’s more amused that you’re so clueless.
“Here,” he tosses the controller at you. “Go for a drive, it’s fun when you’re stoned.” he tells you.
You’ve played video games before, you aren’t a total idiot. Though he had expected you to ask for more help when he gave you the controller. He thinks it’s cute that you try to obey the speed limits and stop at every red light.
He reaches into his bedside cabinet, pulling out a joint. It’s ignited quickly, his eyes squinting as he inhales and watches the screen to make sure you’re not getting him into trouble on his game.
“You’re not bad when you’re high.” you tell him, passing the controller back to him. He takes it from you, saving his progress before reaching out to smoke again. He sits upright, and you barely react when he pulls you away from where you were sitting until you're facing him. “U-Um…”
He’s giving you a look. That look. The look Yuuji gave you when he told you he had a secret. God, they could be fucking twins if Sukuna wasn’t covered in tattoos, it’s scary. But he doesn’t say he has a secret; he doesn’t say a word. He simply watches you with a pondering stare, but an aim behind his eyes nonetheless.
Your own eyes shift when you see him bring the spliff from his ashtray to his lips. The cherry end of it igniting holds your focus before your eyes are on his again, enraptured by the moment and what he’s thinking. He sucks the smoke deep down into his lungs, and you can’t help but watch the way his chest moves from his heavy breath.
You gasp, softly, as he snatches your stare once again. His thumb and forefinger grasp your chin and tug downwards until your jaw is lowered. His face is barely a centimetre from yours, you know he’s going to kiss you. But why are you about to let him? His lips ghost yours, and you’re taken aback as you feel a plume of smoke invade your mouth. He’s impressed when you breathe it in, though, but smirks wildly as you begin to cough it up.
“You taste like cookies and cream.” he whispers into your ear, the sensation of his words rushes straight to your heat. But your sense comes back, pushing him away from you as you look sternly into his eyes.
“I didn’t say you could do that.” you remind him, preparing to move back to where you were sitting prior. But he stops you, easily, pushing your body down until your head is in his lap but over the duvet cover. “Sukuna…” you sigh, your head and your limbs feel too heavy to move on their own anymore.
“Mm?”
“I’m wi- I’m with Yuuji… I’m with your brother.” you remind him, you move your head a little so that you can look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, though, still focused on his game. You can hear dialogue again, and guns, you’re not as exciting in comparison to that, you suppose.
“I know.” he speaks, his jawline bulging as he swallows and clenches his teeth slightly. “Don’t tell me you thought I was gonna kiss you. Silly girl.” he speaks, still not bothering to grant you with the eye contact you’re so desperately craving for some reason.
But your body betrays you as a whimper escapes from your throat. And that does get his attention. His game pauses, and he looks down at you. But you hide your face, scrunching your eyes shut so he can’t read your expression. But your shy little display tells him all he needs to know.
“Oh? You minx,” he torments you further, and you want to scream. You can’t hide your face anymore, your cheeks becoming too warm and your entire body sizzling with heat. You’re panting, uncomfortably as you try and cool down. “You wanted me to kiss you. You’re with Yuuji, remember?”
“I didn’t! I- I- would never. I love Yuuji, I’m in love with him! I’d never kiss you. Yuck.” you fib, if you weren’t high, you know you’d never be in this predicament. You know you’d never have agreed to hang out with him. But really, it’s a lie. You weren’t high when he asked if you wanted to do buckets. He intrigued you, and you’re a fool, because you fell for it. Hook, line and sinker.
“Hm…” he hums, his spliff resting between his lips as his eyes linger on your cleavage before roaming down your body to your sweatpants. He places the blunt back in the ashtray, his eyes setting their sights on your hands. He moves one with ease above your head, though you instinctively pull it back. But it’s too late, the other one joins, a singular hand of his pin both of your wrists down above your head. You wriggle against him, but you don’t pose a challenge in the least.
“S-Sukuna?” you question as his fingers breach the waistline of your sweatpants. A sadistic smirk sprawls across his face as he realises in your haste to be here you’d not bothered putting on panties. You mewl, desperately, as his fingers find your petalled flesh. He doesn’t do much, simply feeling your slick and teasing your folds as he examines your facial expressions.
“You didn’t want me to kiss you?” he asks again. He drags two fingers up your slippery slit until he finds your clit, rubbing targeted circles around it slowly. The tension makes your hips buck, but his face is stern as he watches you keen for him. “Then why is this cunt soaked?”
His words almost bring you to tears, and he can tell. The way they fill with water so rapidly and your face becomes sweaty. You’re ashamed. You’re embarrassed. He’s humiliating you, but you’re too turned on to tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop.
“I hate you!” you tell him, and there is certainly venom behind it. Because you mean it, you really fucking mean it. He’s the absolute worst. You’re so in love with Yuuji, but he’s ruined everything, now. You should have known this would happen. He’s been flirting and teasing and bothering you throughout your entire relationship with Yuuji. But you never thought it would come to this, ever. Especially after what you’ve been through, you’d never want to inflict that same agonising betrayal onto Yuuji.
“I know. You think I’m so beneath you, yeah?” he grins, and your mouth falls open in surprise, though his circling touch doesn’t stop. “I’m a drug dealer, I’m a bastard, I’m a piece of shit. But, sweetheart, me ‘n Yuuji didn’t grow up with daddy’s bank account like you. But look at you, princess. You hate me and you’re still letting me play with your sloppy cunt.”
“Fuck you.”
“You can, I know you want that. You’re drenched. My fuckin’ fingers are pruning.” he laughs, you want nothing more than to cover your face in shame, but you can’t while Sukuna’s heavy hand trap your wrists. “Awe, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Much cuter than when you’re trying to be tough f’me.” his rubbing halts, though the sense of abandonment is short lived as he plunges two thick fingers into you tight hole, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit again.
“O-Oh, fuck, hnng—” you groan, eyes meeting his as he pleasures you. And he drinks in the sight. Your tongue lolled from your mouth as you accommodate his touch, the pads of his fingers batter your g-spot again and again until your back arches. “Sukuna, s-stop, we can’t.” you warn him.
He smirks, ignoring you, opting to do the opposite. He increases the pace in which his fingers torment you, his cock leaks when he sees a few tears spill from your eyes. He’s that good, huh? Maybe his little brother isn’t as talented.
“You’re fucking tight. You’re gonna cum, aren’tcha?” he taunts you, you attempt to clamp your thighs around his hand, but it only spurs him on more. His fingers sink deeper. Your mind and rationale become lost to him. “You’re gonna cum for a bastard like me? Your boyfriends brother, too. Gonna cum in your pants like a virgin just for me? Pathetic little girl.”
“Oh FUCK, GOD!” you cry out, thighs trembling around his hand as you orgasm. Your chest heaves, and he doesn’t fail to notice how your nipples have began to poke through your vest. “C-Christ, okay, lets just forget—”
“I’m not done with you.” he speaks, it cuts through you as he lets your hands go. You massage them quickly, before he pushes his full weight on top of you as you lie flat against the mattress atop the sheets. He holds your jaw, roughly, and kisses you.
He humps his clothed, hard cock against your soaked sweatpants, your slick dampening them with each roll of his hips. He breathes heavily as you kiss. An exchange of saliva and clashing teeth as you moan and break away before licking at each other’s tongues again and again.
You shudder when you feel him put his hands down your pants again, collecting the dewiness at the apex of your thighs before forcing it onto your tongue. And you suck, gratefully, replacing the loss of his lips with his monstrously thick fingers. You can hardly believe he fingered you so easily.
Your lips wrap around his digits beautifully. He moans as he watches your little hands in comparison to his own hold it in place so you can bob your head up and down the length, your tongue licks and laves until there isn’t a trace of your dewiness left.
So he kisses you, again, tongues tangling as he dry fucks his cock into your clothed core. His hands roam and pinch and squeeze every inch of your body that he can grab. He yanks your sweatpants down, tossing them aside with little care to where they might land. And he surprises you, again, when he manoeuvres you seamlessly so that you’re straddling him.
He thinks it’s cute as you look around, unsure of how you got into this position. But he brings you back to him when he humps up into you so that you fall forwards. You kiss him again, but he breaks it to speak.
“Let me taste you, baby. Sit on my face.” he tells you. You’re nervous, but you move yourself so that you’re hovering above him. He pushes a finger into your hole and you throw your head back in satisfaction. “I said sit. I wanna know what a slutty princess cunt tastes like, so fucking sit.” he orders, his arms hooking around your thighs and forcing you down until you smother him with your heat.
“FUCK,” you moan, loudly, as his nose nudges against your throbbing clit. You aren’t sure what to do with so much freedom to move. The way he slurps and feasts on your dripping flesh sends wave after wave of embarrassment through you. And he’s loud he’s so fucking noisy as he moans into your heat and drinks every drop that your heavenly cunt has to offer. “J-Jesus… ah—!” you yelp, feeling his palm come down hard to strike your behind.
You begin to roll your hips, rubbing your pussy up and down over his face and stimulating your clit with his nose. He reaches under your vest, tweaking your nipple as you hump his face. He spanks you again, quickly, as you stop moving. You’re too gone, completely lost in the moment as you use him for your pleasure. You’d never have expected this from him.
He relinquishes your nipple to free his cock from it’s material prison. You heard the sticky sound of it ring through the room as he jerks himself off. His moaning becomes louder. The divine taste of your cunt and the ability to stroke himself goes straight to his head. You’re gone, you’re fucking gone. But he’s right behind you. The way you’re smothering him makes him lightheaded, but he’s not letting you go until he’s ready.
You see the pink silhouette of his cock as you look over your shoulder, but you’re desperate to get a better view. He groans, so loudly that you think he might have came, as you tug on his pink hair. Using it to your advantage as you ride his face into your next toe-curling orgasm. And at that, you do collapse. Practically singing his name as you cum in his mouth, only when you’ve reached your high does he let up on you.
He admires the view of your tits as you back up to look down at him, throwing your vest over your head as carelessly as he’s discarded your pants. His face is shimmering with your juices, and you feel another searing tidal wave of embarrassment as the reality sets in that you’ve done this to him. And you’re still cheating on your boyfriend. But you’re past the point of no return, you think. Yuuji is barely on your mind, all of your attention is on his brother, now.
And he’s still not through with you yet.
“Do you need some cock?” he asks.
“Y-Yes.” you nod, pathetically.
“Look at it, then. Look at my cock and beg for it.” he tells you.
You adjust your position so that you’re hovering above his face again but facing his cock perfectly. It’s beautiful, you think. More defined than Yuuji’s but around the same size and width. His cockhead is more prominent and the veins are unmissable. You’d have begged without even being asked if you’d gotten the chance to see it earlier.
“Go on,” he starts. You feel his hands between your shoulder blades and he pushes you down roughly. “Beg for my cock, whore.”
“Please, please Sukuna. I need you to fuck me.” you start, completely reduced to tears as you look at it as your mouth waters. You hold him with both hands, and you’re still unable to hold the entire length of it. “Wanna cum on you. W-Want you to b-bruise my cervix. Need to feel you inside, please, please please.” you’re practically sobbing as you continue.
“Kiss it.” he demands. “Worship my cock, and I’ll decide if your slutty cunt is worthy.” he tells you. Your eyes widen, but you kiss his tip without question. It’s so sweet and affectionate despite how sordid and lewd it is. But you can’t help it. It’s worthy of worship. You’re sure it’ll hurt, but you’ll take it. You don’t mind in the least.
You lick your tongue across his slit, poking your tongue into it slightly and relishing in how he hisses from the sensation. He buries his face in your cunt again, moaning into your soaking folds as you please him.
His length is freed from one of your hands, making the decision to cup his balls as your kiss down his shaft towards his pubis. His head is thrown back as you make contact with his balls, the grunt he releases is ethereal, you’d never have known such beautiful sounds could from him.
You scream, slightly, as he spanks your ass. It encourages you to take him down your throat and ignore your gag reflex and you bob and suck and run your tongue along each vein it can detect. He can barely focus on eating you out, too bewildered with your near pornographic performance.
“Such a good little cocksucker. No wonder Yuuji likes you.” he spanks you again. “Think he’d still like you if I told him I’ve been balls deep down your throat, slut? I’m not so sure. But I like you, a lot more now.”
“S-Shut up.” you tell him, defiantly. You silence him as you lower your pussy to his lips again, distracting him momentarily with your sweet taste.
You feel his cock flexing in your hand, like he’s ready to blow his load right down your willing throat. Even though you don’t want him to cum like this, you wouldn’t mind. You’ll swallow every last drop for him.
He stops you, though, shoving you away from him so that he doesn’t cum prematurely.
“Hands and knees, now.” he speaks coldly. He admires your face quickly before you get into the position he wants you in. It’s glistening with sweat, tears, spit, and his precum. “Good fucking girl.” he spanks you as you arch your back and wait patiently for him. Your legs spread apart and your cunt pulses in anticipation for him to slot himself inside.
He doesn’t though, not right away. Instead, he leans over to his beside table and pulls his phone off charge. He kneels behind you as he pulls up the camera app and swiping to video mode. His sweatpants are shoved down his thighs and rest at his knees. He takes a few photos of your glittering, pulsating cunt, spreading it open as his fingers dig into one of your ass cheeks.
“Pretty fuckin’ princess pussy…” he moans, and you mirror him, following it with a giggle. You feel a sense of pride at his praise, arching your back deeper. “Ohhh there she is, good girl, good little slut.”
He drags his cockhead through your shimmering folds, gasping each time it catches against your hole.
“P-Please fuck me, daddy, n-eed it.” you whine, earning another hard slap against your ass. He’s happy, of course. He didn’t expect you to be such a slut, he’d never have expected you to utter such a filthy title for him of all people. He’s certainly never heard you refer to Yuuji as daddy whenever he hears you fucking through the thin walls.
“You’ve got good manners, for a whore.” he speaks, your hole flutters with each word, but he sees how hard you clench as he degrades you. A new understanding of what your body likes. He’d only been doing it for his benefit, but now, he knows you like it too. “Do you like being a whore for daddy, hm?”
“Y-Yes,” you pant, “Love bein’ a whore for you, daddy…”
“Cute. I’ll give you my cock, then.” he pushes the tip in before pulling out completely again, chuckling at how whiny you are from the loss. “But you know, princess, good whores like to be cummed in. You’ll let me, won’t you?”
“Please… please cum inside. W-Want you to fill me up!” you tell him, and it’s enough. It’s more than enough to have him bullying his cock into your desperate cunt. You moan, boisterously from the stretch. You’re sure their neighbours won’t be happy if they’re home, the whole complex probably heard you. But you don’t care, and neither does he.
He’s glad that you said he could cum inside.
It’s not like you had a choice, though.
“Do you still want me to bruise your cervix?” he asks, angling the phone in his hand to capture how fucking deep he is inside of you. Your ass pressed flush against him as you swallow his cock hungrily. You nod, dumbly, yelping again when you feel a stinging slap against your cushioned ass. “Words.”
“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.” you wince.
“You’re such a good fuck toy, aren’t you?” he laughs.
He begins to pound into you, his brute strength and weight behind every aggressive pummel of his hips. It hurts, God, it fucking hurts as his tip nudges against your cervix. But you don’t care, you’re sure you will when you’re sober and your logical train of thought returns.
But now, in this moment, you truly are Sukuna’s fuck toy.
And it feels fucking sublime.
He captures on film the way that you moan and gasp and plead for something you aren’t even aware of. The way your hands grip into his pristine white sheets. But is favourite part is watching how your pussy stretches open as you swallow his coke can cock. And the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.
“F-Fuck,” he moans, “You’re fucking suffocating me.” he speaks, barely able to contain himself as he feels heady with lust. He doesn’t stop, though, he doesn’t care if you cum anymore. He’ll finger you again to finish you off if needs be, but for now, he needs to be selfish. Thoughts of filling you up and flooding your unprotected womb make him feral.
“Sukuna! S-Stop!” you warn him.
“Huh?” he responds, showing no intention of stopping or slowing as he rams his cock into you repeatedly. The only thing on his mind is finishing, he couldn’t care less about your change of heart or guilty conscience.
“F-Feels funny, I- I can’t! Hnnng—!” you finish, cunt squirting and gushing like a fountain all over him. “Oh my god…” you pant, burying your face in the pillows as you hide your shame from him.
“Holy fuck,” he responds, thrilled that he’d captured the moment on film. You show no signs of stopping either. You squirt as much as a backed-up teenager getting his first handjob. He spanks your pussy and rubs his hand all over it, making a complete mess of the two of you and the sheets below. “Dirty little squirter, hah? Fuck, you’re like a pornstar.” he tells you, chuckling again.
You don’t dare show your face, but you mewl into the pillows as you ride out the rest of your high as he shoves his cock back into you.
“Do it again, on my cock.” he demands.
“C-Can’t, can’t cum anymore.” you tell him, utterly spent and defeated as you allow him to use your body for his own benefit.
“Brat. You’ll cum on daddy’s cock and be grateful that I’ve been so good to you.” he explains. And true to his word, he manages to build it up in you again, somehow, as he continuously batters his length into your g-spot until your vision turns white.
He’s not doing much better, either, still enraptured by the sight of your dripping wet pussy and soiled sheets. It’s something he needs to see again, a sight he will treasure ‘til the day he fucking dies.
“Cum, slut. Make a fucking mess.” he speaks through gritted teeth.
“Mmmnf, hah, aaaah—!” you moan, granting his wish. The sight helps him topple over into his own bliss. His cum flooding your ruined walls, he fucks it further into you, but pulls out eventually to see his sperm dripping from your filthy cunt.
“Are you embarrassed, brat? You sprayed yourself again.” he snickers, spreading your pussy open with two fingers to see the mixture of his cum and your release spill from your twitching hole. “Has Yuuji ever made you do that? No… I’m sure he doesn’t know you’re this much of a dirty whore. But I do, I know now.”
The mere mention of the man you’ve betrayed has you bursting into tears. The sex was mind-blowing, yes, but at what cost? You’ve been begging him to move in. Hell, he was talking about marrying you. But you can’t have that with him, now, not after this.
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You sobered up a little after a shower, making sure to keep the door locked as you washed yourself of your indiscretion. You even waited in there until you dried off to get changed, not wanting to risk Sukuna seeing you naked again. The damage is done, of course, but you at least want to be able to proudly say it was a mistake that will never happen again.
Maybe Yuuji will forgive you.
There’s no way you can keep it from him. Not after what you went through. It’ll break his heart, of course it will. But you can’t hide it, it’ll just get worse over time when it eventually comes out, because it will. Whether you tell him or Sukuna does through a weed induced stupor, the truth will come out.
You’ve been checking the time on your phone repeatedly to see if Yuuji has finished work yet. Eager and filled with fear and anxiety so that you can tell him, honestly, what happened. He’s going to hate you. There’s no way he won’t hate you after this. But you owe it to him and you owe it to yourself to be truthful.
You tense up as you hear a knock at the door. Yuuji wouldn’t knock, so you know who it is.
“Go away.” you warn him, but it doesn’t deter him.
“Aw, don’t talk to daddy like that.” he smiles, a shit eating grin that you want to smash against concrete.
“You’ve ruined my life, get out of here.” you tell him, crossing your legs as you check the time on your phone again. You sigh, throwing it further down the bed so that it’s out of reach. You’d missed how he shrugged his shoulders with a laugh as he turned to leave. But you stop him. “Don’t tell Yuuji, please. I want to be the one to tell him.”
“Tell him… what?”
You look at him, bewildered, unable to process if he’s being serious or not.
“That we fucked.” you remind him, deciding you aren’t about to spend all day trying to decipher his tone. “I need to be the one to tell him, so don’t say anything.”
“Oh, tell him that?” he questions, laughing again as he realises he knows something you don’t know.
“It’s not fucking funny, Sukuna!”
“Yeah, it is, you’re a little slow on the uptake.” he laughs some more, sitting on the edge of the bed. His ruby red eyes piercing into yours intimidatingly despite the smile on his face. “You don’t need to tell Yuuji anything.”
“Yeah, I d—”
“Yuuji knows.” he laughs, louder, almost bursting into hysterics as he sees the astonished look on your face.
“W-What?” you sigh, looking around the room in horror.
“Yeah… I mean, c’mon.” he smirks. “Why else would he text you to come over, when he wasn’t even home?”
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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osaemu · 6 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ SHE GOT MY HEARTBEAT SKIPPIN' DOWN 16TH AVENUE! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: he's always so confident and self-assured, but a couple kisses from you and he turns into a mess.
contents: fem!reader. kinda suggestive ending (inumaki's comment). you spend half the fic making out lolll anyways we love flustered gojo he's so precious <3 tagging @rinniessance and @rizsu to see streamer!gojo's latest shenanigans :3
author's note: this one was requested and i rly liked the idea sooo yea. i wrote it. shocking right?! anyways thank u guys for all the streamer!gojo requests, saves me the effort of having to think of plots ꨄ︎
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"baby, what time is it?" satoru mumbles against your lips, holding you in place on his lap. the two of you are seated on his plush chair in front of his computer, and you've been kissing like teenagers for the last... hour? or two?
satoru tilts his head in to kiss you again, soft lips gently pressing against yours for the thousandth time. his hands roam over your body, and one rests on your waist while the other reaches around you into your back pocket. his eyes flutter open when he feels your phone, and he turns his head briefly to sneak a glance at the time.
"shit, i gotta start the stream in two minutes," satoru mutters. he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and leans back, azure eyes drinking in your heated cheeks and fluttering eyes. a smug smile slowly grows on his lips as you look away. 
"aw, d'you want more?" he cooes, reaching out and touching the side of your face. satoru gently pushes your face back in his direction, moving his slender fingers to your chin and holding it in place. you're all sweet and flustered in the aftermath of your makeout session, and every time he sees you like this, another part of his heart surrenders itself to you.
you nod bashfully, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you feel satoru's grip on your chin tighten. he pulls you in for another long, minty kiss, and you feel him smile against your lips. his hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck as he hugs you against his chest, which rises and falls in sync with yours.
"you're so cute," he murmurs in between kisses, eyes flickering back and forth from you to the time. "c'mon, honey, we have a minu—"
you cut him off with another kiss, which catches him off guard—usually he's the one leaning in. but no, you had to take him by surprise and throw him off his game. the little hm? that slips out of his lips when you kiss him causes satoru to go redder than you've ever seen him. 
seeing satoru embarrassed is rare—he's so cocky and confident that embarrassment is basically unheard of, but in this moment, you've got him. he laughs nervously when you pull away, wide eyes looking everywhere but at you and your cheeky smile.
you reach up and grab his chin, tugging it in your direction the same way he did earlier. "you know exactly what you're doing," satoru mumbles, pulling you closer and burying his face into your neck. 
"i have no idea what you're talking about," you reply smugly, kissing the side of his face. "don't you have a stream to be starting soon?"
satoru looks up instantly and groans when he sees the time—it's a minute past his start time, and that could cost him a couple hundred viewers. you laugh as you hop off his lap and into his bed, curling up under his sheets as you watch him scramble to start the live. 
"love you, 'toru," you call, wrapping your arms around one of his pillows. 
after a second, he turns around, a loading sign on his screen. "love you too, baby," satoru replies, face still noticably red. you blow him a kiss and watch as he pretends to faint in an attempt to hide his childish grin.
a soft ding then signals him that he's about to be live, so satoru spins his chair around to face his computer. he forces his usual collected smile onto his face and starts, "hey, everyone. sorry for the delay, just got... held up with something."
inumaki: u look like a tomato LMAO
yuuji-itadori: yea ur really red, are u ok?
satoru looks away, mumbling something about how it's just the lighting that's making his face look red. naturally, everyone disagrees and starts speculating as to why he seems off his game today, and eventually, someone gets it.
megumi-fushiguro: he always looks like that everytime he sees his gf wdym
inumaki: WAIT THATS IT
inumaki: he was def doin unspeakable things with his gf just two seconds ago. trust
you can't suppress the small laugh that escapes your lips when satoru stumbles over his words at the comments, face redder than ever. "a-anyways, today i'm gonna— hold on," he cuts himself off by looking down at his phone, where a text notification from you had popped up.
love of my life: ur so cute :(
love of my life: but get ur shit together 
love of my life: im the only one who gets to see u like that (¬_¬)
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slutforln4 · 1 month
Text
COME ONLINE.
🖇️ lando norris x reader
🖇️ in which, you and your boyfriend have a little bit of fun while he’s streaming.
🖇️ warnings: smut, virtual exhibitionism sorta??, bj
🖇️ author’s note: this is horrific and short, but i don’t want to keep you guys waiting for fics for months again haha
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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“Mate, what the fuck are you doing?”
Max’s voice echoes in Lando’s headphones, distracting him from the only thing he’s focused on— you.
You look up at him from under the desk, unusually cold fingertips trailing up the distressed man’s thighs. He’s been trying his hardest not to break, to not show that you’ve been teasing him for the past eight minutes, with your hands ghosting over his bulge, softly tracing his thighs or the addicting way you lick your pretty lips.
“The game lagged.” He makes up an excuse for the awful few shots he placed in the surrounding trees, instead of the enemy. You stifle a giggle at his successful lie, fingers still toying with the hemline of his shorts.
Max rolls his eyes. “You’re just bad at the game.”
Lando ignores Max’s comment, too busy biting back a moan the second your hands palm him through his boxers. The mere feeling of your slender fingers sliding up his length, already throbbing for the feel of your mouth on him.
It’s a while before you do anything, and by the time you touch him again, Lando’s focusing on the game with no regard for the pretty girl kneeling in front of him. His fingers hastily press the buttons on his keyboard, eyes intensely tracking any movement on the screen. “I got one,” he says, eyes stuck to the screen.
Lando doesn’t react when you trail a finger up his thigh again, this time underneath his boxers. It takes a moment for Lando to notice the gentle tug at his boxers. It takes another moment for him to notice the kisses you place on his thighs, starting at his knee and ending at the base of his dick. His breath hitches when you start licking up his length, taking your sweet time in teasing him, making sure to give him a hard time keeping quiet on stream.
Max mutters something, but Lando’s too distracted by your lips softly sucking on his tip to even talk. He’s aimlessly walking around the area of his game, trying not to get into any trouble both online and in reality. It takes everything in him not to moan when you take his dick into your mouth, softly stroking the part that doesn’t fit.
“I’ve died.” Lando says, trying to keep his breathing steady while looking down at the view in front of him— his girl on her knees, taking him even in the virtual presence of others. He never knew you had this side to you, so he was shocked when you suggested the idea of giving him head while he’s playing.
Lando hears a noise in his headphones that indicated someone subscribing to his channel. “Noelle, thank you for the sub. Appreciate it.”
You freeze. Lando notices it, looking back down at you with a sort of darkness in his eyes. You hadn’t known he was on stream, and the notion of that shook you to your core. But it also excited you. How far could you push Lando before he inevitably breaks? How bad would the consequences be? A plethora of questions swirled in your brain, all while you were still toying with the man in front of you.
Lando watched as you stroked him, feeling all his walls come crashing down the second your lips wrapped around his length. He tried his damn best not to show it on stream, but he was a fucking mess. he takes his bottom lip between his teeth the second you start doing that thing with your tongue that always drives him crazy.
It drives him so crazy that he has to focus his attention on not making a face, trying his best to keep his eyes on the screen and read the chat. He can’t even speak, the only thing helping the silence from him was the music, that seemed to be awfully fitting for the situation he’s in. He can hear Max complaining about the enemy team, but he can’t even laugh about it, his whole career at risk for the mere touch of your lips.
He feels the warmth fill his lower abdomen and knows he won’t be able to get away with the microexpressions turning macro. Eitherway, he risks it. When you quicken your strokes and movement of your head, Lando seeks strength in clinging onto the headrest of his chair, bicep bulging through his black shirt and you’re sure you’ll see plenty of pictures of your boyfriend being a pathetic mess.
It’s fun toying with him. It’s easy to make him flustered and desperate for you, but it was just as easy to make him so angry he’ll fuck you til your legs shake. You contemplate the idea of not letting him cum and instead leaving him to continue the stream with a hard-on or risking the possibility of a moan slipping past his lips and having it circulate the internet til the end of time.
Your decision becomes easier to make when Lando leans back in his chair, the back of his hand covering his mouth while the other is still holding onto the chair for dear life. His pretty eyes are hidden by his tightly shut eyelids, as he tries his best not to let a sound escape his lips.
It takes a few more strokes until he’s throbbing and coming undone. You feel the hot liquid trickle down your throat and you swallow every last drop. The heaving of his chest and silent whimpers don’t go unnoticed by you when you pull away and wipe the side of your mouth with your sleeve.
A shy smile plays on your lips when Lando drops his arms into his lap, now covered by the boxers you pulled back up. He’s a heaving mess, face red and sweaty.
“You alright, mate?” Max asks, concern lacing his voice as he notices the heavy breathing echoing through his headphones.
Lando looks down at you, biting his bottom lip as he hastily nods. “Yeah, never been better. I’ll head out now, got some things I need to take care of. Bye, chat.”
When the stream ends and the only presence in Lando’s room are him and you, he helps you up from the floor and brings you to his bed. You lay down and he lays beside you, hands touring your body and lips never leaving your neck.
Little did he know, his name was trending. And not for the right reasons.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
Text
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - 18+ MDNI Simon Riley/female reader
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“Ye dinnae have tae worry.”
Johnny, Simon’s friend, or coworker, you guess, croons to the two of you, happy faced Emma bobbing in his arms. She’s perfectly content with him, her affinity for big strong men clearly grown since knowing Simon, when she took to him like a duck to water.
Still. You’ve never left your baby in the care of a stranger.
Simon, somehow, senses the hesitance. Sees the tepid enthusiasm, a big palm settling at the middle of your back, mouth leaning close to hover above your ear. “If you’re not sure, we can stay in.”
“No!” You settle as quickly as you can after the blurted admission, embarrassment simmering away in your gut. “No, sorry. I trust you... I trust your judgement.” You motion to Johnny, who’s watching you with a serious expression. “I’m sure it will be fine, it’s just-“
“You’ve only ever left her with me.” He finishes for you, and you look up at him, relieved to find soft brown eyes crinkling with understanding, sweetness. The tender affection you’ve come to know so dearly.
“Just that one time and- and she’s so little.” At the same time, she yawns, little chest rising and falling with a big exhale, tiny lids begrudgingly drooping shut. She’s just going to be sleeping anyway. Just go.
Another voice whispers in the back of your mind. One you haven’t heard for quite some time, urging you forward from beyond the light.
Be brave.
Dinner is great. Better than great, even. It’s… wonderful. Perfect. The restaurant is decked out for the holiday, and there are lights of every color strung from the rafters, soft music wafting and weaving through the throng of diners, low light accompanied with candles dotting each table. The food is delicious, aromatic and rich, and both you and Simon eat until you’re complaining of feeling too full, one last glass of wine settling into your veins with a giddy effervescent that makes you giggle just a little bit too much.
“We’re not due back for another hour.” He muses, after the check’s paid and you’re both lingering by the door, his warm hand squeezing yours. “Want to walk?” He motions to the green space across the block, the one that’s got a big tree glowing in the middle, flanked with a residential street all lit up, more lights and decorations shining into the night.
“These houses are pretty.” You murmur, cheek smushed against his bicep, arm wrapped around his like you’re a koala, and he’s your tree. Your shelter.
“You like ‘em?” You take a left, peeling off into the park, steps naturally in stride, and he adjusts, pulling his arm free to wrap it around your shoulder, heart warming in your chest when you feel his lips come down across your head overtop your hat, the touch alone enough to make you feel toasty all the way through your boots.
“Yeah. Always wanted Emma to have a yard, y’know?” You sigh. It’s not out of reach, so much, but everything was easier with two incomes, and before it was just you and her, you felt like the dream was nearly attainable. Nearly there. “One day.” You slow to a stop in front of a tree, it’s long trunk stretching towards the sky, barren branches wrapped in string lights, and turn expectantly, face tilted. Kiss me, you hope your expression tells him. Make me yours.
His mouth covers yours, fiercely, lips parting to work tongues and teeth together, fingers scrabbling across clothing, seeking, touching. You trace along the hem of his shirt, up under his jacket, his skin shivering beneath your touch, muscles tensing, shaking in the night. Your palm splays flat against his ribs, his abs, and you hum into his mouth, thighs pressing together at the feeling of him reacting to your touch. He’s been such a gentleman. So perfect, with you in his bed. He looked away, every time you tried to prance into the room in a too small pair of sleep shorts. He averted his eyes, when you rolled over without a bra on, breasts loose in your sleep t shirt. Even cuddling, waking up together, going to sleep... he was respectful. You wish he was just a little more willing… to be bad.
You tried not to think about the alternative. The idea that he’s seen your stretch marks, and stomach, enough to make you feel a little sick. You’ve been strategic about it, big shirts, hips covered, but what if…
You bury the thoughts. The dread and spiral that feels like circling the drain. The wine makes you feel bold, it makes you feel desperate to know. Does he want this?
“Simon.” You gasp, hardly separating yourself to speak. Instead, you feed your words to him, hoping they’ll sink through, hoping they’ll make sense. “I need- I want you to touch me.” He pulls away, hand cradling your cheek, leveling you with a serious look.
“We don’t have to rush this, sweetheart, I-“
“I’m not rushing.” More tongue. He tastes like the whiskey from dinner, and the tannins of your wine. Like the bread and the oil, rich silky texture, earth and salt exploding in your senses. “I’m ready.” You find his hand, pulling it from your cheek, dipping low to crawl up under the bottom of your sweater, until his knuckles are brushing against the skin of your diaphragm. There’s a sharp intake of breath and then-
His hand folds over the curve of your breast, thumb slipping inside the fabric of your bra, stroking across your nipple. When he feels it, firm against his touch, he groans, pressing closer, his body crowding yours against the tree. The width of his frame shields you, and he drifts low to your skirt, teasing his touch across your lower belly, fingers dipping into the waistband.
“You think you’re ready for me?” He hums in your ear, teeth grazing against the shell. You shudder, soft whine slipping free, and he shifts, hard cock swollen in his jeans, now pressing between your legs, making you throb for him beneath tartan and cotton. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” He slides his hand down, searching beneath your skirt, grazing along the outside of your panties. You close your eyes when his finger slips inside, stroking through where you know you’re ready, where you’re so wet, clit pulsing with desperation for him. He circles your entrance, dipping inside you and then out, stroking over your swollen bud, making you jolt and whimper in his hold. “Fuck.” He breathes.
“Yeah, I’m-“
“You’re soaked for me.” He kisses you, long and deep and furious, still working his finger gently back and forth. “This pussy been wet all night, honey?” Your eyes nearly roll back into your fucking skull, words failing on your tongue.
“Simon… I- yeah.”
“Want me to take you home, take care of you?” He presses deeper, heel of his hand making contact with your clit, thick finger sinking into you, moan swallowed by his mouth. “Think you can be quiet enough so you don’t wake the baby?” He thrusts, pressure grinding upwards, your walls clenching desperately. You nod frantically, but he doesn’t stop, keeps fucking up into you with his finger, bringing you dangerously close to the edge quicker than you ever thought possible.
“Fuck, I-“
“Shhh.” He hushes, mouth wide on your cheek before slotting his lips against yours and pulling free, finger falling away from your body. You watch with wide eyes as he brings it to his lips, slipping it inside to taste you, lashes fluttering like he’s dining on some sort of decadence. “I’ll give what you need sweetheart.” His forehead touches yours. “I’ll give you everything. I promise.” He swears, and something glints in his eyes, something serious, nearly predatory, severe and dedicated, so intense that it makes you shiver.
“Okay.”
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roosterr · 9 months
Note
Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol
the 141 when you have amnesia – p2
note: i have received your therapy bills :)
wc: 5.2k
warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise
ao3
[part one]
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price
✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.
✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.
✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.
✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.
✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.
✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.
✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.
✹ the base is dull without you.
✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.
✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.
✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.
✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.
✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.
✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.
✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.
✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.
✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.
✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"
✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.
✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.
✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.
✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.
✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.
✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.
✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.
✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.
✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.
✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.
✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,
✹ "i remember you now."
✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.
✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.
✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.
✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.
✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."
✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"
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gaz
✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.
✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.
✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.
✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.
✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.
✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.
✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.
✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.
✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?
✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.
✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.
✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.
✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.
✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 
✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.
✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.
✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.
✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.
✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.
✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.
✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.
✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.
✹ "i'm not really paying attention."
✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.
✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."
✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"
✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.
✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.
✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.
✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.
✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"
✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"
✹ "just piss off, you prick!"
✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.
✹ "what's wrong? are you–"
✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.
✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.
✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.
✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,
✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"
✹ "you read my mind."
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soap
✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.
✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.
✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.
✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.
✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.
✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.
✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.
✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.
✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.
✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.
✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"
✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"
✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"
✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"
✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.
✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.
✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.
✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.
✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.
✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.
✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.
✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.
✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."
✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"
✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"
✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."
✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.
✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.
✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.
✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.
✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.
✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.
✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.
✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.
✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."
✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."
✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.
✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.
✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"
✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.
✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.
✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.
✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.
✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.
✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"
✹ "i'll never forget you again."
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ghost
✹ he avoids you like the plague.
✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.
✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.
✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.
✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.
✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.
✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.
✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.
✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"
✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.
✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"
✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.
✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."
✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.
✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.
✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.
✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.
✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.
✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.
✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.
✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.
✹ "i remember, si."
✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.
✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.
✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.
✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"
✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."
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4K notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 2 months
Note
You write fluff and flangst absolutely amazingly and I’m in awe every dang time!
Buuut since you’ve got spring break coming up, a little fic idea that’s in my head that I’ll never do justice! (If you’re interested)
Fem!reader finding out an adorable way to tell Spencer she’s pregnant. I don’t care if they’re dating or married or what - but like she puts together a crossword, or a puzzle and he just doesn’t get it. (If you wanna throw angst in, he leaves without getting it for a case and then realizes it in the middle of the night.)
puzzling | S.R.
trying to tell Spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy and misc. symptoms., talk of fainting and blood tests. word count: 1.69k a/n: welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda! i hope this does your request justice and thank you for entrusting me with this idea!!!! <3
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you
It was your pride and joy, the collection of folded papers that sat on the kitchen counter, next to a cup of coffee that you had already filled for him.
On your fake newspaper, you had created a custom crossword puzzle. With four very important clues.
Across: “Early stage of life”
Across: “American actress Frances _”
Down: “Must be finished by”
Down: “Veteran’s Day month”
You smiled softly to yourself as you heard Spencer’s footsteps coming down the staircase. Padding over to the kitchen counter, you sat on one of the stools, a cup of tea in front of you.
Before he even looked at the newspaper, Spencer leaned over to kiss you good morning, “You look tired,” he whispered, hooking a finger under your chin as if he were investigating the dark circles underneath your eyes.
“Way to make a girl feel good about herself,” you teased lightly, even though you knew he was right. At least you felt tired.
He rolled his eyes, “You know that’s not what I meant.” Turning to grab his mug of coffee off of the counter, he observed you again, “Are you sure your doctor said nothing was wrong?”
Smiling, you gave him a brief nod. You had gone to see your doctor a few days ago for nausea and fatigue, and Spencer would’ve gone with you had he not been on the other side of the country on a case. “They’re running some tests, but they didn’t see anything blatantly wrong,” the doctor was running a few blood tests, checking your iron levels and HCG.
Using his free hand, Spencer reached over and moved a lock of hair out of your face, “They said your blood pressure was low?”
Low blood pressure, as it turned out, was a pregnancy symptom that was most common in the first trimester. “You’re freaking out over nothing, Spence,” you told him. Really, it was something. A rather large something – or small, depending on how you wanted to look at it. “Come on, it’s crossword time,” you told him, using the end of the pen to tap on the newspaper.
“I worry about you when I’m away. You do know that low blood pressure can cause syncope, right? Did they prescribe you anything for it?” He asked, ignoring your wishes to move on and do the crossword.
There was a small part of you that just wanted to tell him, but frankly, you had worked too hard on the crossword puzzle to give yourself away like that. You couldn’t tell him that they didn’t prescribe you anything because they didn’t know how far along you were. A larger part of you knew that if you just got him to work on the puzzle, he would have his answers in about seven minutes.
Then his phone rang, he pulled the device out of his pocket, and the Caller ID on the screen caused you to slump your shoulders forward. It was Garcia. “Hey Garcia,” he greeted on the phone, “at the tarmac?”
You set your head on the counter and sighed in defeat as Spencer hung up the phone.
“Are you alright?” He asked you softly, tenderly wrapping an arm around your torso.
Humming, you sat back up, ignoring the stars in your field of vision as you did so. “I’m fine, you should go,” you insisted.
Spencer shook his head, “No, you’re sick. I’ll call Garcia back and tell her I have to stay back.” Acting bewildered at the idea that he had been so remiss as to agree to do his job while you were unwell.
You reached out and set a hand on his, “It’s alright, love. I can take care of myself,” you reminded him. Besides the fact that you were wholly self-sufficient, the only reason why Spencer would be asked to meet the team at the tarmac was if they were headed toward a particularly gnarly case – they needed all hands on deck.
“Promise me you’ll check in? Call your mom if you need any help, please,” he requested, pleading eyes following you as you got up to hug him.
Nodding, you wrapped your arms around him, “You should take the crossword with you.” Pulling away, you haphazardly refolded the newspaper and handed it to him.
Furrowing his brow, Spencer inspected the paper that you had given him. “We always do the crossword together on Saturdays,” he found you incredibly helpful on the pop culture clues. “We could save this one and then have two for next week,” he offered.
God. No. Your eyes widened at the idea of having to keep your secret for another week, shaking your head, you shrugged, “No, you should take it. It’ll make me look forward to next week even more,” you insisted.
He folded, and with a sweet kiss to the forehead, he was off to go save lives, remaining entirely unaware of the one growing inside of you.
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him
The judgmental Italian behind him was proving to be a distraction, “Did you find something?” Spencer asked, eyeing the evidence board with frustration. Something bugged him about the case, and he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.
“Not right now, but it’s three in the morning,” Rossi said, joining Spencer by the evidence board. “Why don’t you give that big brain of yours a break?”
Shaking his head, Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I tried. I can’t stop thinking about the case.” Men were popping up dead in a small Missouri town at an alarming rate, and he felt so close to a breakthrough.
Dave nodded like he understood the feeling, that was probably why he had emerged from his hotel room so early, returning to the precinct before the sun peeked over the horizon. “What do you usually do to wind your brain down?”
Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “Crossword puzzles,” he admitted, any word puzzle would do the trick.
The chuckle from the older man next to him startled Spencer, “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Rossi looked around the precinct, “I’m sure we can find one around here somewhere.”
“No,” Spencer said, “I have one in my bag, actually.” He refrained from including the detail that you had given him the crossword puzzle, or else he’d never hear the end of it.
Clapping him on the back, Rossi lifted his coffee cup, “Then I suggest you go take the thirty seconds to fill out that puzzle and then get some rest.”
Once he was back in his hotel room, he changed before pulling out the pile of papers that you had sent him off with. Sitting on top of the bed, he filled out the puzzle in approximately six minutes and forty-three seconds. Once the letters were filled in, he skimmed the puzzle – just to check it over.
The only one that might’ve given him trouble was about an American actress – usually he had you to help him with pop culture, but he recalled having the same last name as an actress in Days of Our Lives.
It was interesting that the words “Baby” and “Reid” were right next to each other.
Wait.
Quickly, he calculated the odds that the words “Baby” “Reid” “Due” and “November” were all in the puzzle and when the numbers were put together, they made your anniversary. Spencer just as quickly called you, listening to the phone ringing.
His heart was racing as he waited to see if you answered the phone. “Hey,” your groggy voice came through the receiver.
“Where did you get this crossword puzzle?” He asked you, flipping through the rest of the newspaper for the first time.
You hummed softly, “You’re doing it right now?”
Looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table, he dropped his face into his hands. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even think about the time,” it was just past four in the morning now, making it just past five in the morning in Virginia. “I just thought that…” his voice trailed off. What if it was just a coincidence?
There was silence on your end of the call, and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. You hadn’t been feeling well, and he’d woken you up with his phone call. “You thought what, Spence?”
The teasing lilt in your voice had given you away to him immediately. He knew. Every one of his suspicions were confirmed, “Y/N Reid,” he breathed.
“Spencer Reid,” you countered.
He took a deep breath, “Are you pregnant?”
“Yeah,” you answered simply, with about as much enthusiasm as he expected from you at five in the morning.
It all started to make sense to him. The low blood pressure, the drowsiness, and even the slight caginess when it came to him asking about your doctor’s visit. He swiped away a few stray tears, “I don’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a feeling he was overly used to.
You cleared your throat, “Are you happy?” Nerves clouded your voice, and he could hear you becoming more awake – more alert.
“I am,” he searched aimlessly. Elated. Thrilled. Ecstatic. “I’m so happy,” he told you, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say, I just… God, are you okay?” Dread washed over him, you were alone, sick, and pregnant at home and he was halfway across the country.
Sighing, he heard a ruffling on the other end of the call. “I’m great. I’m exhausted, I had no idea being pregnant was so tiring. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know.” You sighed again, “I’m not making any sense.”
He laughed lightly at your rambling, “You’re making perfect sense. Chances are your energy will return during the second trimester.”
“Don’t get my hopes up.” You paused again for just a moment, “I’m sorry if I scared you. With the whole doctor’s appointment thing. They really are keeping an eye on my blood pressure and whole slew of other things, but they know the root cause.”
A giddy smile grew on his face, “It’s because you’re pregnant.”
A soft hum came through the phone, “It’s because I’m pregnant,” you concurred.
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2K notes · View notes
kiwicopia · 2 months
Text
🔞 MDNI | Boothill x Fem!Reader (blurb AU) 🔞
TW: sex in a barn, slight choking, love bites, prosthetic limbs, slight overstimulation, licking, creampie.
Edit: This got way more attention than I honestly thought it would. So, if it hits 2k, I'll make part two. 😉 Or! Perhaps a full fic of this blurb?
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Things weren't supposed to end like this, but you couldn't be blamed. A handsome stranger paid your esteemed ranch a visit, hoping to get one of your finest Thoroughbreds, only to end up with something far better.
One hand firmly gripped the fat of your hip, the metallic fingers digging slightly into your skin while the other was wrapped around your throat, tilting your head back just enough for him to kiss along the side of it. Your thighs trembled with the way his thick cock bullied your slick cunt, dragging yet another moan from your pretty lips.
Boothill's lips curled into a slight smirk at the sound before letting his tongue slide up your neck. It was hot and wet, and your hands gripped the stall door, causing the wood to chip ever so gently with the way your nails dug into it. "Dirty girl," he teased. His chest pressed against your back a bit more as his hips smacked into the back of yours harshly, his pace remaining merciless. "I came for a stallion, not a broodmare." The hand around your throat squeezed a little harder, causing you to let out a pitiful whine. "But I can make a new deal."
You already knew what the new deal was, but you remained silent, too focused on the pleasure that coursed through your veins with each thrust of his meaty cock. He filled your gummy walls, shaping your pussy all for himself as he brought you orgasm after orgasm. It had been a while since you had a good fuck, and with a customer of all people. Still, you had to hand it to him. Boothill had the stamina of a Thoroughbred, plowing into you repeatedly without so much as a break, and he hadn't even come yet.
Your head lolled to the side, allowing him another chance at kissing your neck, though he soon bit down on the soft flesh, causing you to moan at the sudden feeling. One final thrust had your body up against the stable door, pinned as he finally came, painting your walls in thick, white ropes of his cum. The hand gripping your neck only tightened, yet he made sure to at least let you breathe.
Boothill kept your body pinned against the stable door as he panted hard, his breath hitting the back of your neck as he pressed a gentle kiss to the nape. "Fuck," he breathed out, "haven't had this good a time in a while." His hand on your hip loosened as his metallic thumb rubbed gentle circles against your soft skin. "Now," he chuckled, "how 'bout we discuss the new deal?"
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eymie · 2 months
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PHOTOGRAPHER !
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pairing: thomas webb x fem!reader
warnings: smut, nudes?? kinda, alcohol, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), thats it i think
summary: you were a new york photoprapher and thomas lived in your apartment. and after one frustrating night you invite him into your room.
a/n: WHERE. IS. THE. MF. CALLUM. TURNER. FICS. i’ve been on this game since fantastic beasts. (ive found a few scrumptious callum fics and yk who u r @willyoubemycherryy) also i have not written in a hot minute and none of you expected this.
You lived on the story above Thomas. Not that you ever really noticed him at first, you were relatively new in the complex too. Sometimes you’d hear him having a conversation on the stairs with the old man from 2B. Mix of words you didn’t bother to put together.
Well, you didn’t care until you saw him for the first time. The old man from 2B liked to talk a lot, often chatting you up when you got home from work. Sometimes bringing up Thomas which you didn’t care for.
"He could use a nice girl like you.”
To which you would’ve scoffed. You heard someone running down the stairs, to which you met eye contact with Thomas. Wavy brown hair, pink cheeks, glasses that sort of turned you on.
The real New York type of guy, to be honest, your type of guy. His lips parted as he looked at you, a small nod and than sliding past you.
“Where you going Thomas,” He called out, to which Thomas turned around laughing.
“I gotta go, meeting up with Mimi.” Thomas turned on his heels to leave until he was stopped again by the man.
“I want you to meet me friend.” The man gestured to you, Thomas smiling at you in return.
“No, it’s alright. I have to get going.” You smiled back, walking to the door where Thomas stood. You brushed past him, your clothes brushing his own.
“Where?” Thomas asked, furrowing his brows.
“Around, I’m a photographer.”
That’s how it started. After that, coincidentally you ran into Thomas a lot more after that. Usually alone, and to that he’d usually greet you and say hi. After a specifically draining day, a frustrating one at that, he ran into you in the front door.
He rubbed his eyes, apologizing and then he started talking. Going off about something you honestly didn’t care much about. You liked hearing him talk. You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.
“Wanna talk about it? In my room.” It came out like word vomit, immediately embarrassed. You watched his eyes for a second, not even processing his nod.
You grabbed his hands pulling him up to your apartment, dragging him close behind you. His hand was big compared to yours, you weren’t surprised you had already noticed he was a lot taller than you.
Your anxiety kicked in when you struggled to unlock the door. Him peering over your neck, watching you struggle with your keys. You felt his lips brush your neck slightly, your panties dampening.
You flung your door open a little too excited, a small laugh leaving his lips. He followed you in, to which you immediately grabbed your alcohol off the shelf.
When you turned around, Thomas caught you off-guard, pressing his lips to yours. It was quick, aggressive a bit, which you assumed was probably from nerves. He was quick to shake his head and apologize.
"Shit, I'm sorry." He mumbles, looking down at his shoes. You examine his face, his expression. You hand him the full bottle of alcohol off your counter, to which he takes from you with ease. "Thanks--"
You pull him back down, pressing your lips harder to his than he had before. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging on it making him groan into the kiss. He still held the bottle in his hand, but his free hand slid to your waist.
He had you pressed against your counter, nowhere to move. His tongue slid over your bottom lips, you parted your lips allowing him to slip it in. Pressing and sliding against your own making you moan softly into the kiss.
Thomas pulled away, taking a sip of the alcohol, furrowing his brows at the taste. He placed it back on the counter beside you, who was breathless and needy.
He tilted your chin back up, pulling you back into another heated kiss. Both hands now free, groping whatever he could. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue, his kiss was intoxicating.
His hand slid up your skirt, tracing the apex of your thighs. His fingers slowly slide up to the wet patch of your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”
"Thomas," You gasp, pulling away from the kiss. He trails down your jawline and neck, leaving soft wet kisses. He hums into your skin, hands pulling your waist closer to his body. "Wait--"
"What?" He was barely audible, too busy tainting your skin with his marks which you would certainly cover up the next day.
"l don’t know," You gasp, his tongue running over the mark he had just left. You feel him smile into your skin, a small laugh leaving his lips. His fingers sliding over your panties, pressing onto your clothed clit.
"Do you want me to stop?" He pulls away looking at your flustered face. His hand pulling away from the apex of your thighs, sliding up your waist and under your shirt.
“No,” You were too quick to answer, a small laugh leaving his lips. The way Thomas kissed you felt urgent, like he needed you now and he could’ve wait. And if you knew any better you would’ve known why.
You walked backwards to your bedroom, never breaking the hungry kiss. His hands were large, pulling at your waist. Your hand pulled back to push the door open further, backing into your small room. He turned you, pushing you against the white door, shutting it with your body weight.
You let out a soft moan as his knee slotted between your thighs, pressing into your clothed his. His hands travelled down to your hip, pulling your cunt harder onto his rough pants.
“Look at you, getting off on my thigh.” You whined at his words, a wet patch forming on the fabric of his pants.
“Thomas, I want you—“
“I know,” He mumbles against your lips. Thomas was usually quick when it came to sex, at least with the foreplay but he wanted to take it slow so bad. Talk you through it. “Don’t worry, gonna fuck you.”
“Now,” You move your head to the side to give him more room to mark your neck. His hand slides up to cradle your jaw, lips attacking your skin.
“Not yet,” His hot breath against your skin, lips pressing to your neck.
Thomas’ hands slid under your thighs, you jump up wrapped your legs around his waist, His fingers press into your skin, holding you up against him. Your arms wrap around his neck as he tosses you down on the mattress.
“Take off your clothes, okay?” You nod in reply and quickly pull off your skirt and panted as he pulls off his shirt. You pull off your own shirt, tossing it onto the hardwood floor next to his discarded clothes.
You look up to see Thomas, pulling off his pants leaving him in his tented boxers. You suddenly feel yourself getting hotter than before.
It was in a flash, he was on top of you, hot skin against yours. His hands pried your thighs apart then slid up to your bra clad chest. He slid his fingers under your bra while he nipped at your jaw. His glasses were still on and pressed into your skin
Your fingers slid up to pull his glasses off his face, to which he tried to resist. “I can’t see without those.”
“Shut up,” You cut him off with a kiss, fingers tangling in his brown hair. His glasses were held in your free hand, falling against the pillow beside you.
He broke the kiss, still brushing his plump lips against yours before speaking. “Put them on.”
You knew what he meant but you ignored him, pushing him on his back instead. You climbed onto his lap, your hands pushing him down against the mattress.
You placed his glasses on your face, they made your vision blurrier and you wanted to see him. You went to pull them off but he gripped your wrist, pulling your hands away from your face.
His cock twitched through the fabric of his boxers, you slowly grinded your hips in return. A small whimper left his lips, his eyes shut. You slid you hand up his body to his lips, your pointer finger slowly parting his lips.
You watched as his eyebrows furrowed, parting his lips for you. You roll your hips again and you listen as another soft groan leaves his lip. You smiled, leaning down to press your lips to his. Deep in the kiss, your hands slide to slowly his boxers down allowing his cock to spring out.
Your lips parted at the sight of his hard cock, pre-cum drooling down the tip. His large hands slid up your waist and pulled you down onto his cock. Your wet folds sliding across his length .
“Want you inside,” You whined, nails gripping his chest. He bit back any noises, nodding at your request and let go of your hips. You bit your lip, positioning his tip at your entrance.
“What do you want?” He asked with a smirk, a little too amused for your own liking. You tried to sink down but he had a firm grip on yours hips stopping you.
“Please, need it.” You whine, trying against but his grip on your hips stopped you from it. You clenched your jaw in frustration at his lack of sympathy.
“Want me to fuck your pussy?” He asked with a small laugh, you scoffed in return.
“You’re too vulgar.”
“I’m about to be inside you, what type of vulgarity would you prefer?”
“Shut up—“ You didn’t get to finish before his hands were pulling your hips down, his tip pushing past your entrance. Your mouth fell agape and your eyes were shut closed. You whimpered at the slight sting, he was bigger than you expected.
“Yeah, take it like a slut.” He smirked, watching as he bottomed out, stretching your cunt wide open. God, he wished he had his glasses on to see how your cunt looked around him.
You didn’t noticed his hand fumbling onto the night table, grabbing your old camera you retired from taking photos. The flash made you squint through his glasses.
The small photo came up on the screen, your perfect body sitting on his cock, tits full and being held in his free hand. He was saving that for later. He put the camera back on the nightstand, hands trailing up to steal his glasses back but you grabbed his wrist.
“I don’t think so.” You swatted him away, adjusting his glasses on your face. Your vision still just as blurry as his own.
“I wanna see you.” He whined, leaning back on his elbows, squinting back at you.
“The photo for later wasn’t enough?” You tease.
“Come on, give me my glasses so I can fuck you.”
You pushed him back down on the bed, raising your hips before dropping them. A groan slipping from his lips as his head falls back on the pillow, bucking his hips up.
“Fuck me, Thomas.” You whined, grinding your clit into his pelvis. His nails dug into your hips leaving red crescent shaped marks. His lips were parted, head back as you rode him. "Please."
With that he flipped you onto your back, pressing your legs to your chest. The small room was filled with obscene noises and the slapping of skin. He thrusted his length into you harder, pulling you to meet his thrusts.
"Fucking begging for it," He grunted, his tip pressing into your sweet spot. Strained moans left your lips, despite your best effort to keep quiet. New York apartments had thin walls.
Your hand slapped against your mouth to muffle the loud moan that had just left your lips. His hand slid to your wrist, sloppily grabbing it and pinning it above your head.
"Don't hold back," He ordered, lips connecting to yours to swallow your moans and whines. His free hand travelled down from where he pinned your legs to your clit, pressing your sensitive bud.
"Fuck--" You moaned, the knot in your stomach tightening. His thumb rubbed your clit harshly, pressing his thumb hard against it. "So close."
"Come for me, baby." His lips brushed against yours, his saliva coating your kiss-swollen lips.
A gasp left your lips, then a strained whine. Your walls clenched around his cock, the knot coming undone. Your head thrown back against your pillow as he fucked you through your orgasm.
"Yeah baby, just like that. Come for me." His whispered into your skin, your hips bucking against his thrusts. He pressed soft kisses into your skin as you arched off the mattress. His hands travelled to the arch of your back, rubbing your spine. "So good for me."
You fell back to the mattress, soft whimpers leaving you between your pants. His hand left your sensitive clit instead holding your hips as he neared his own orgasm. Pulling out, his hot seed coating your thighs and stomach.
"Give me back my glasses, I wanna see that photo."
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hwalovs · 7 months
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Days and Nights (M)
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Pairing; Mike Schmidt x reader Word count; 2635 Warnings; this is pure smut, maybe a little plot. Kissing, whining, dom/sub themes, unprotected sex (wrap it you freaks), they get right to it, breeding kink? kind of?, they'reliterallyinloveshutupbro
Description; Being the day shift guard has its perks, you get to leave at midnight, you get to leave for lunch while all the fast food restaurants were still open, and you get to see the cute night shift guard before you leave.
A/N; i am feral for this man, I don't know what happened. one day i watched the movie, the next im frothing at the mouth for another white boy. this is so short i might write something longer for him.
after finding my fic reposted on wattpad, I'm going to make clear; DO NOT REPOST THIS WITHOUT ASKING OR WITHOUT PROPER CREDIT.
I will only let this pass once, as for my other fics, DO NOT REPOST THEM.
THIS IS NOT EDITED
Mike was hired two months before you, first seeing you before he started his nightly shift at the pizzeria. You were standing outside, reading through a book before looking up when you heard his car door shut. You smiled, and dropped your book back into your bag before walking over. Your car was parked further away from his, but you went out of your way to walk up to him. 
From then on, you two were friends, always seeing each other after your shift and before his. You always made sure his badge was straight, and he always made sure to tell you to get home safe. Sometimes you both would stop to ask each other about your days, he talked about his sister, and you talked about your cats. 
One day, he got there a little early, wanting to get in and use his time to sleep, to try and find more clues about what happened to his brother. He found you asleep at the security desk. Snoring softly, the monitors flickering in and out. He smiled, setting his stuff down besides yours before walking closer, bending down so he could see you more clearly. One of your cheeks was squished against your arm, your breathing even. 
“(Y/n),” he cooed, reaching up to move a piece of your hair. You stir, slowly opening your eyes before realizing who it was in front of you. Shooting up, you rub your eyes and stutter, looking at him, and then the clock.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t even realize I fell asleep!”
He smiles, standing back up and leaning against the desk. He watched you rush around with tired eyes, collecting your stuff while rattling on how active the animatronics were. 
He found you like once or twice, but never regularly. Sometimes he would find a forgotten coffee cup, and he would smile before throwing it away. It was the little things about you that he was slowly picking up on. He remembered each one, and wanted to learn more about you. 
Mike knew he was in too deep when you were getting ready to leave one day, packing up the rest of your stuff and flashing him that dazzling smile you always did. It made him forget the Dream Theory book resting in his bag, or the pills that accompany it. He forgot for just a second why he was there so early, why he was itching to fall asleep at the desk in the first place. 
You stand from the chair, badge catching the light, and when you sigh and roll your neck, whimpering at the tight knot, he shivers. He shouldn't, he knows that, you're his coworker, someone who endures the same nightmare he did- but he couldn’t stop the thoughts of you underneath him, whimpering as he sunk deeper inside you, stopping when his hips were flush against-
“Mike!” 
Your voice felt like ice water, rattling him until he was back in reality. He shifts, hoping that his sweatshirt covers how hard he was. There was a small part of him, deep within his brain, that did hope you saw, that you’d offer to help him. 
“Yeah?” He clears his throat, swallowing when his mouth waters. Smiling, you tilt your head, and he feels his stomach drop. 
“Did you hear me?”
He curses himself, “yeah! Yeah.”
Your eyes narrow, “what did I say, then?”
You were teasing him. You had to be, you were smiling again, and as you walked closer, he tried to rack his brain, trying to remember what you were saying. 
“Cat got your tongue?” Your voice is quiet, and you’re right in front of him. He can smell your perfume, can see the shine of your chapstick that's on your lips. 
“I- uh-”
“You’re so cute,” you chuckle, and it throws him off balance. He almost falls from the whiplash you’ve given him. You usually don’t stop to talk to him like this, you usually pack up and bid your goodbyes, warning him on the animatronics movement- but with how close you were, that he could smell your perfume, he realized he didn’t care. You were here, in front of him, calling him cute.
“What?”
You lean in close this time, your breath tickling his ear. 
“You heard me, Mike. Or are you lost in your thoughts again?”
Your lips press against his and it's the only thing he can think about. Your lips taste like strawberries, and your mouth tastes exactly like he thought it would. Your hands are in his hair, and his are gripping your waist tightly. 
He wonders when he’ll wake up, if this is a dream. When you lightly bite his lip, he moans, and comes to the conclusion that you’re real, and you’re kissing him. 
Pushing you both from the doorway, he backs you up to the desk. Kicking the chair away, he blindly reaches behind you to push away the small controllers that litter the top. He hears something crash onto the floor, but pays it no mind when you're sucking on his tongue. 
His hands reach under your thighs, lifting you onto the desk, and your hands fumble at his belt, the fog that settled on his mind clears for a moment, and he pulls away.
“Here?”
You furrow your eyebrows, before smirking and leaning forwards, “you don’t want it?”
“I do- I really do-”
“Then what’s stopping you?” He tries to think, but can’t when it's only youyouyou on his mind. Flooding his senses, invading his thoughts and making him feel crazy ever since the day he met you. His jeans are tight, and he can feel the precum that's pooling in his underwear. 
“Fuck,” he surges to kiss you again, reaching down to unbutton your jeans. He slides his hands into the waistband, and you use the edge of the desk to push yourself up, letting him yank the jeans off in one fluid motion, your panties going with it. 
The desk was cold on your skin, but you didn’t care when Mike lifted his shirt, biting into the fabric and pushing his pants down far enough to free his cock.
In any other situation, Mike would have you in his bed, pillow under your hips while he eats you out for hours on end. He knew you would taste amazing, just like he knew your mouth would taste amazing. You were perfect to him, and that's the only thing on his mind when he was pressing into you. 
Mike's cock was thick, stretching you out perfectly, a slight burn following. You didn’t stop him, though, because his eyes were locked onto where his cock was slowly sinking into you, and his hands were shaking at the warmth you brought him. 
The monitors behind you continued to show the empty space of the Pizzaria, but it was at the back of both of your minds. Mike’s shirt was still caught between his teeth, his stomach smooth and perfect. He didn’t make a sound until his hips were flush against yours, and the whine he let out made you clench around him. 
His eyebrows furrowed, and he finally looked up at you, pupils dilated, curly hair a mess. Reaching up, you pull the shirt from between his teeth, the fabric wet, and grab the back of his head to drag him into a kiss. His lips are hot against yours, and his tongue licks into your mouth desperately. He moans as he tastes you again, and you grab his hips, trying to pull him further. 
When you pull away, you suck onto his bottom lip, looking at him through your lashes, “look at you,” you coo, “you’re so pretty, baby.”
He whines, blushing as he grinds against you. Finally finding a slow rhythm of deep thrusts. It lets you feel all of him, and lets him feel all of you. He stretched you out so well, and it almost felt like you could feel him in your stomach. He was perfect. 
“You’re so warm,” he whimpers, forehead resting against yours. Pulling at your vest, you manage to throw it to the floor with his, the metal badge chiming against the linoleum. He seems to understand what you’re doing, reaching for the end of your t-shirt, pulling it up quickly. The office was cold, your nipples hardening underneath your bra. You grab at his shirt next, his arms raising so you’re able to throw the shirt to the floor. His hips falter, but he continues.
Mike begins to leave kisses down your neck, biting your bra strap to push it to the side, letting it fall down your arm. He grabs the top of your bra, yanking it down and groaning at the sight of your exposed chest. 
“Fuck,” he curses, licking his lips before surging forwards, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, tongue swirling the bud. Your head falls back against the top of the monitor, moaning loudly. 
Mike pulls away, a string of saliva connects his bottom lip to your nipple, but you lift your head to move closer, licking the spit from his lip to kiss him again. 
There was a heat slowly building in your gut, and you wrap an arm around Mike’s shoulders, trying to make him go harder, to go faster, but he just looks at you with a smirk.
“What is it? Huh?” He asks, his breath heavy. You whine, nails scratching at his skin. 
“Mike-”
He tsks, “common, baby,” he coos, “talk to me.”
“Please- Mike please- harder, fuck me harder,” theres a heat in your cheeks, and you feel your eyes burn at the building coil in your gut. 
Yet, Mike only looks at you with a growing smile, “Harder? You want me to fuck you harder, baby? But why?” He whines, “You feel so good like this.”
“Oh my god,” you moan in frustration, hand reaching in between you both to reach your clit, but his hand grabs your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 
“What is it, baby?”
There's that teasing smirk again, and you can feel your eyes burn. Your orgasm was right there, yet he was slowing down, causing it to be pushed further away. 
“I wanna cum, please, Mike- Please make me cum,” a sob threatens to spill from your lips, but Mike shushes you, kissing you softly. His stubble tickles your cheeks as he lays kisses onto your skin. He bites onto your neck, moaning as you clench around him again, sucking until the skin is bright red. 
He grabs onto your hips, leaning back to look down at where he disappears into you, and begins thrusting harder, letting go of your wrist to allow you to grab onto his shoulders once more. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he licks the pad of his thumb before snaking it between your bodies, rubbing tight circles around your clit. 
Throwing your head back, you almost cry at the hot coil in your stomach threatening to snap, and you can feel the tears that roll down your cheeks. 
“Please- Please, make me cum- wanna cum so bad-” you begging, pleading, in jumbled words that Mike can barely make out. Your legs are locked around his waist, pulling him closer. 
When you cum, your thighs tense around his waist, almost stopping him. Your mouth drops open, and a soft whine falls from your lips. You're clenching so tight around him, Mike almost cums himself, but bends down to bite onto your shoulder to stop himself. He refuses to cum yet, he wants to keep making you feel good. To see you fall apart around him again. 
He leaves another kiss where he was biting down on you, pulling away to leave kisses across your cheeks, before finally stopping to kiss you once more. You're breathing heavily, thighs shaking from the intense orgasm. 
Sliding out of you, he whines softly, pulling you from the desk so you’re standing, he only smiles at your confused face, grabbing your neck softly to pull you into another kiss, tongue licking into your mouth.
“Turn around, baby,” he sighs, holding your hips as you do. The table digs into your hips as you bend down, breasts pressing flat against the cold surface, but he tsks, grabbing your neck once more to pull you back up. His thumb was below your jaw, pressing against your pulse point just enough to feel your heart race.
He uses his other hand to press onto your lower back, making you arch, then reaching down to grab his cock once more and slide through your folds. You were so wet, cum slowly beginning to drip down your thighs. In one smooth thrust, Mike presses his hips flush against your ass, his hand still lightly gripping your neck to keep you against his chest. 
“There you go,” he whimpers, pressing kisses along your shoulders. He starts to thrust again, and you have to bite your lip to stop from moaning loudly. 
He felt so much deeper like this, hitting the spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back. 
There was still a buzz from your orgasm, but it was quickly building into another. Your thighs were shaking, and your palms were flat on the desk, nails digging into the wood. 
“M’gonna cum again-” you moan, knees almost buckling as the rapidly building heat. Mike smiles from behind you, but moves his hand from your waist again, snaking it down once more to circle his fingers around your swollen clit. 
“Again? You gonna cum for me again, pretty girl?”
“Oh my god- Mike-” You’re cumming before you even realize it. Head blank except for the thought of him-
His grip on your throat tightens just slightly, and you reach up to grab his wrist. His hips falter, breathy moans filling your ears as he presses your hips harder into the desk. You knew there would be bruising, but at the moment you didn’t care. You would let Mike do anything he wanted to you, as long as he kept making those heavenly noises for you. 
“You feel so fuckin’ good baby,” he slurs, “my pretty baby- you’re just perfect f’me- Perfect fuckin’ pussy too-” 
“Mike, please” you whimper, arching your back more for him. 
He hums, thrusting harder into you, “that's right baby-” he leans forwards to tilt your head, locking eyes with you, “say my name.”
“Mike-”
He groans, head rolling until your noses touch, “again, say it again baby- please-”
“Mike!-” 
“I’m gonna cum- fuck-” 
Your hand is wrapping around the grab onto him, nails dragging across his skin, “Inside me- please cum inside me- wanna feel you so bad-” 
Mike’s thrusts stop, grinding against you as he spills inside of you. Uttering your name under his breath like it's the only thing he’s ever known. 
You were everything he’s ever wanted. To have you clenching so tight around him, to be able to have you like this was like a dream to him. He never wanted to wake, he wanted to stay here with you forever, but as you both collected yourselves, his cum sliding down your thighs and dripping onto the floor, he knew better than that. He’s sitting in that uncomfortable chair again, watching as you slide your jeans on. You forgo your panties, reaching down to unzip his bag, smiling as you let them drop inside. 
“Do you wanna go on a date?”
You laugh, and it fills the room with a brightness he knew only you could bring. 
“I think we’re way past going on a date.”
“Then how about dinner? I make a mean Spaghetti and meatballs,” he smiles, and feels like his world is complete when you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, “I’d love that.”
2K notes · View notes
inuyashaluver · 3 months
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hii would you be able to write a leah x reader fic where reader is just very veryy sleepy and just falls asleep on leah a lot no matter what time it was or where they were
sleepy girl - leah williamson
leah williamson x reader
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description: in which you’ll always be leah’s sleepy girl
warnings: suggestive, swearing
a/n: i’m back!! this req too cute! thank you for the request, lovely! enjoy!! i don’t throughly enjoy this but it’s okay
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
if there was one thing that everyone knew about you, it was that you were extremely sleepy. it didn’t matter what you did, or how many hours you slept, you had the ability to fall asleep anywhere, especially if you were with your girlfriend, leah.
there was just something about her shoulder that lulled you to dreamland when you least expect it.
it really wasn’t uncommon to see you cuddled up to leah, sleeping soundly while she gently palms your skin or just holds your hand.
maybe it was her scent, or her gentle touches that topped it all and leah ate it up everytime.
leah absolutely loved you in your sleepy state, your most affectionate and easily convinced state, she just thought you were the cutest.
you and leah had been friends ever since you could remember. you both went through the arsenal youth teams and stuck together like glue. you both quite literally could not be separated, finding a sense of comfort in being together anywhere and everywhere.
it came to no one’s surprise when the two of you started dating at 21, a late realisation from both of you.
you and leah often laughed about her mum’s reaction of: “haven’t you always been dating?”. your love was very pure, and genuine. full of affection and respect, both of you so giddy to finally be dating after the years and years of pining.
throughout your relationship and friendship, leah learned just how sleepy you could be and she found it incredibly endearing you felt safe enough to sleep anywhere if she was there.
“baby,” leah whispers, her hand rubbing comforting, warm circles over your (her) shirt in the early hours in the morning. you both had training and leah always made it her personal mission to be the one to get you up in the morning.
you grumble, burying your face into the pillow of your shared bed. leah lets out a little giggle, moving to lie back down to rest the side of her head on your shoulder blade. “please” leah nuzzles her head against you.
the gentle rise and fall of your body had her smiling affectionately, her hand still exploring your skin and if anything sending you right back to sleep.
“come on, my girl, training” she reminds you gently, holding herself up slightly over your body to place a gentle kiss between the space of your shoulder blades.
“no, lee” you whine, shaking your head, leah laughs again, giving the back of your neck a kiss this time and smiling at the way you giggled at the ticklish sensation.
“yes, lee, come on!” she pleads, gently rolling you around so you could lay on your back. you squint and look up at her and she takes you in, she always loved you in the mornings, always a little grumpy but softening for her almost immediately.
“good morning, sunshine,” she chuckles, a hint of a smile plays at your lips and you hold your arms up, she grins brightly, wrapping your arms around her neck in an attempt to lift you from the bed but you dragged her down with you. she laughs brightly when your legs wrap around her waist and pepper kisses all over her face.
“(y/n)!” she attempted to reprimand, but the way she was melting into you told you everything. “why are you denying me sleep, and my own girlfriend?” you rasp out, leah hovers over you slightly, smiling down at you cheekily.
“i’ll buy you a little treat if you get up right now” she persuades, you smile up at her and nod while she lays a gentle, sweet kiss on your lips before she hoists you up. “you’ve got yourself a deal, williamson” you kiss her cheek with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ making her laugh once more, one of your favourite sounds in the world.
you were both in the gym in the arsenal training facility, you and leah were stretching on mats, until leah began to drink water and you planted yourself in her embrace.
she happily welcomed you, pulling you close by your waist so your back was flush to her front, her arm securely wrapped around you while she had some water.
she held the bottle to your mouth and forced you to have some, kissing your cheek when you finished. she wraps her free arm around your waist and hugs you tightly.
you melted into her, your head resting on her shoulder quickly had you falling asleep.
“do you wanna watch a movie later?” leah asks softly in your ear, when she doesn’t hear a response, she leans forward slightly to see you dozing off on her shoulder.
she smiles brightly, pulling you closer and kissing your cheek gently before she rested her cheek against yours.
“look at you, lovebirds” beth teases, leah throws her a glare and beth sticks her tongue out at her in response,“fuck off, beth” leah whisper shouts, making sure not to wake you up accidentally.
though, all the movement managed to wake you up. “sorry, baby, beth’s being a little shit” leah grumbles, kissing your cheek apologetically as you grip onto the arms wrapped around you.
“it’s okay” you yawn, now fully awake after your little power nap.
you turned your head around and smiled at leah adoringly, it had blood rushing to her cheeks almost immediately.
you kiss her lips quickly and mutter sweet words against her lips, leah could tell beth was teasing her from afar at how soft leah was at that moment. but leah didn’t care, her girl showing her clingy, soft side had her heart soaring.
“my sleepy girl” leah coos, pinching your cheek lightly, you smile up at her, slowly blinking while your eyes trail along her face. “you’re pretty,” you utter, she raises her eyebrows at you amusingly.
“someone’s still a little sleepy” she chuckles, you shake your head and lean into her, “no, i’m awake” leah grins, her heart beating out of her chest when you began to play with her fingers, you were now arguing with beth over your sleeping habits.
“fuck off, beth, leah’s really comfortable” you defend, huffing in frustration, “clearly! since you fell asleep in what, two minutes?” beth teases, leah laughs and you turn to her offendedly, her smile slightly dropping at your narrowed eyes. “sorry” leah breathes out, tightening her grip on you as you turn back to argue with beth.
when leah went down with her acl, you took care of her with utmost hospitality and diligence. leah often had to beg you to sit down so she could cuddle you because you just wouldn’t stop. leah knew she couldn’t have gotten through recovery without you, telling you that almost every day.
you couldn’t wait for leah to come back, counting down the days but also being extremely strict with her and her recovery.
“leah, no, ice it” you say sternly, placing the bag of ice back on her knee. “baby, please, i’m bored!” leah groans, making grabby hands at you in an attempt for you to sit down.
“leah” you say flatly, leah rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, “stop calling me leah” she grumbles, your face softens and you go and sit next to her, kissing her cheek apologetically as you both watched the movie on the tv.
“sorry, baby” you start, “i need you to get better, i’m lacking in my leah training naps” you tease, leah scoffs with a laugh, shaking her head but pulling you into a sweet kiss, “i’ll be better soon” she demands, kissing your lips repeatedly.
the day she finally was able to come back was for an england match, and you were both starting.
for the first time in your relationship, you got up first, the excitement jolting you awake. leah’s arm was wrapped tightly around your waist while her legs were tangled with yours.
you placed a little kiss on her nose and giggled when it crinkled under your touch. leah’s eyes flutter awake and she gives you a surprised smile, “why are you awake? what’s wrong?” leah mumbles, moving to lie on top of you, her face burrowing into the crook of your neck.
you scoff, unable to resist carding your hands through her hair as she leaned into you. “it’s the big day” you gasp excitedly when you feel leah kiss a column of kisses up your neck.
she smiles against you and hums, you close your eyes and sigh contentedly, “mhm it is, don’t fall back asleep, we’ve got a game to win” leah teases, pinching your hip lightly, making you giggle before moving to pull you into a breathless kiss.
“i’m wide awake, thank you very much” you defend, “i’ll give you a couple hours till my shoulder turns into a pillow” leah teases, bursting out laughing when you don’t defend yourself, your cheeks pink as she leans in for another kiss.
the team were all having breakfast at the hotel before you all boarded the bus. you opted sitting with alessia and ella to let leah catch up with the girls.
but you couldn’t focus on the conversation, your eyes would drift to leah, a proud smile evident on your face that got you teased relentlessly.
it took about 15 minutes until alessia begged you to go over to her, tired of your yearning glances towards the blonde. you promptly left without a second thought.
you see leah chatting with georgia and keira on a table on the other side of the room and you just couldn’t contain yourself.
you walked up behind leah and keira and georgia laughed immediately at how you were only apart for not even 10 minutes until you needed to be near her again.
leah furrows her eyebrows and follows their gaze, her face immediately softening at seeing her favourite girl nearing with a bright smile.
you rush forward and pull her into a kiss, your hands cradling her face, she hums in surprise against you and pulls you to sit on her lap, the girls around teasing and wolf whistling at seeing you two.
“oh, hello,” leah breathes out with a giggle, you smile and pull her into another kiss, tame for the public eye, yet expressing every ounce of affection you both had.
“someone’s excited,” leah smirks, her hand running over your thigh as she draws you closer on her lap.
you nod along with her, kissing her cheek tenderly, “very excited, my girls back” you hum, resting your head against hers and focusing on the intense debate occurring between georgia and keira.
though, as leah kept cuddling into you, you felt your eyes begin to close and like clockwork, you were asleep.
leah felt your dead weight against her and she shook her head amusingly, kissing your shoulder and gently swaying you until it was time to get on the bus. “told you” she teases you, knowing you couldn’t hear her but still having to prove she was right.
“baby, let’s sleep on the bus” leah coos, smiling as you stir awake and immediately pull her into a tight hug. her hands on instinct rub over your back, chuckling when you wouldn’t let go. your legs wrap around her waist.
“no, i’m not moving” you whine, leah kisses your cheek before lifting you up, the girls laughing amusingly at the fact you were already asleep against leah.
she sits you down at the window seat and tucks you into her side quickly, she drapes your legs over her thighs and runs her hands up and down them gently while you sleep against her shoulder.
the girls passing by you giggle and take photos of a sleeping you and a very unamused leah at all the teasing.
“you must’ve done a number on her last night, williamson?” mary teases, leah narrows her eyes at her, her cheeks a little pink (mary wasn't lying), her stern captain face front and centre.
leah flips her off, refraining from arguing because she didn’t want to wake you up. mary laughs and turns back around, leah focuses back on you, moving some stray hairs off your face, her heart eyes evident to everyone as she looks at you adoringly.
you slept the whole way through, thanks to leah telling everyone to shut up if their voices just went above a whisper. “so help me, you wake her up, i’ll have you benched or doing laps” she’d threaten, the girls genuinely couldn’t tell if she was serious. (she was)
“love, we’re here” leah whispers, pecking your cheek and waking you up with a smile. “hi” you grin, “hi” she chuckles, kissing you quickly before tugging you off the bus, both of you waving to the camera with cheesy grins filming your arrival.
“good bus ride, girls?” the social media manager laughs, leah nods, nudging you with her shoulder, “this one got in a pre-match nap while i sat and watched” she teased, looking at you with a cheesy grin.
“such a creep, watching me sleep” you tease, winking at the camera and pulling leah off with your intertwined hands.
you and leah got taken off 20 minutes before full time. you both collapsed on the bench, absolutely exhausted from the brilliant performance from the two of you.
you give leah the biggest hug when you sat down, telling her how proud you were that she was finally back, and no less the captain of the squad.
as you both watched the rest of the match, you gently ran your nails over the skin of her arm as she rested her hand on your thigh. you both watched intensely, watching the match play out.
you moved over slightly to rest your head on leah’s shoulder and she already knew what was about to happen.
“don’t you dare leave me alone right now” leah teases, “i’m not, lee” you mumble, “you’re about to fall asleep, my love” leah laughs, “i’m wide awake” you scoff, glaring at her for a second before thumping your head on her shoulder.
“whatever you say, baby” she grins, squeezing your thigh gently as she leaned down slightly to make your position more comfortable.
her body was warm and her scent was enveloping you, her steady breathing and her hand caressing your thigh made your heart flutter, but also made you extremely sleepy.
you nuzzle into her and pull her arm closer to your body, promptly falling asleep. “and there she goes” she laughs to herself, kissing the top of your head as she watches the rest of the game.
the moment got filmed and went borderline viral, people laughing at how fast you fell asleep but calling the moment extremely cute between the two of you.
leah woke you up when it was finished and forced you to do your cool down, smiling at how dazed you were, promising you a good nap on the way home that you begrudgingly agreed to.
you both fell asleep on the bus to no one’s surprise but were both wide awake that night, showing leah just how proud you were of her comeback.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
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leahwilliamsonn: england’s star striker, everyone!
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yourname: it was a long day
↳ leahwilliamsonn: aw, i know, baby
yourname: but, where is alessia?
↳ alessiarusso99: hi
↳ leahwilliamsonn: so humble
↳ yourname: what can i say
↳ leahwilliamsonn: ah, there she is!
bethmead_: this girl could sleep through an earthquake, i swear
↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh 100%
↳ yourname: baby! you’re supposed to defend me, some girlfriend you are.
↳ leahwilliamsonn: fine, she’d wake up during an earthquake and THEN fall asleep
↳ yourname: 😐
read part two here !!
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catiuskaa · 4 months
Text
*cough cough* no, me kisses.
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SUMMARY: he may have lost his opportunity to ask you to become official, but boyfriend or not, there’s only one thing Hannie wants needs: your kisses. All over his face. Right now.
WC: exactly 1.3k baby!
CW: it’s too fluff!! ahhh!! (scared) lol, mentions of the usual sick thingies like headaches and mucus (ew!), mentions of lipstick stains (because YES), use of petnames.
REQUESTED! by pookie dookie @4ln-stay8 right here. I owed you one for reading my angsty fics, so I gave my best with this one. tysm for your support, my love! <3
A/N: inspired on the jeekies bc this singlehandedly changed my brain chemistry (melts n giggles)
[☆★🧣★☆]
Jisung wanted to groan.
Meanwhile, you only wanted to giggle and take millions of pictures of him.
What for? Well, first of all, little Hannie was cutely hiding under his duvet.
Only Jisung’s big boba eyes blinked repeatedly as he sniffed, not because he was crying, but because the poor little thing couldn’t even smell anything. He kept the half down of his face under the blankets of his bed, as he surely knew he was blushing due to you being in his room.
He hadn’t been expecting you, and he wanted to groan and put on a tantrum —or however you use that word in a sentence— because you had to be there at that moment.
“Aw, Sunggie,” you melted at the sight of him, holding back the need to coo and pet him and treat him the small and cute hamster he so was. “Lix called,” you clarified with a toothy grin. “He said you were sick, and buzzed me in before he left.”
Jisung made a note to himself to remember to tickle Felix to death for that.
There was one thing he wanted, and while it was you the one who could give it to him, he felt quite shy from asking, as far as refraining from doing so just yet.
Because it was not like you two were dating officially. Yes, the big, fat crush he had on you was as obvious as shit, to put it in elegant words, but he hadn’t asked you yet.
He was going to ask you, but he got sick.
And that one thing he wanted from you was your sweet pouty lips peppering kisses all over his face.
You sat next to him, and sheepishly shook your head. “Let me tidy up this place for you and bring you some medicine and more tissues, yeah?”
Your voice felt soothing, he wanted to use it as a blanket and stay wrapped in it for the rest of the week.
His heart sent more blood to his cheeks. As if there wasn’t enough, he thought with a huff, big eyes watching your movements as you picked a plate that had been left there since the night before and started picking up the used tissues from the floor.
“…hi…” Jisung mumbled, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.
Was he sick? Sure. I mean, his head hurt, his eyelids felt heavy, his nose was runny and he had surely filled the floor of his room and a decent part of his bed with used tissues.
But despite all that, the thing he wanted the most was to cuddle you to his hearts content.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you snickered softly, and he couldn’t help but smile with you. “Want some water too?”
He coughed in response, and you giggled. He cracked his knuckles underneath the bed sheet, his hands tingling, wanting to take you by your shoulders and hug you like a boa constrictor.
“Guess we have to cancel for tonight,” you mumbled with a small smile, your hand tenderly stroking his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll go leave my coat and bag in the living room and I’ll come back, yeah?”
He pouted without realizing. “Mmhhh…” he hummed with a small frown, almost like a whine.
You were about to mumble a soft ‘what’s wrong?’ before he shoved the covers away from his face as he gingerly raised his hand to grab your wrist and settled your palm back on his forehead. He sighed in small relief, melting into the coldness that lingered in you from being outside.
“Headache?” You said almost in a whisper, hearing the butterflies’ wings going crazy in your stomach.
He nodded. If he had been a cat, he would be purring, even if your hand had already turned warm against his skin.
“C’mon, Jisung-a,” your voice felt even softer than before. “I’ll come back before you know it.”
He sniffed. “…you will…?”
Your heart crushed, unable to handle how cute Han looked. It was too much, so much that even the butterflies in your stomach started to have their own butterflies in their stomachs.
And with a smile, you moved your hand to his cheek and planted a shy tender kiss on his forehead.
“I will. Pinky promise.” You chuckled softly, a blush slowly creeping up to your cheeks.
His eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat.
Oh, no. Now he knew what one of your small kisses felt like.
Now you couldn’t leave. Not before… oh.
He grinned slyly, making you raise your eyebrows, wondering what could he be thinking in that cute little head of his.
“…we’ll… make a deal…” he stated as firmly as he could.
You shrugged lightly, secretly enjoying the faint pink hue of your lipstick that had stained his forehead.
“Sure, Hannie.” Your smile only made the fact that you’d leave for, like, ten minutes —or God, maybe even more— feel a lot worse.
“I… want… more of those…” he blushed deeply.
“More of those?”
He took your hand and covered his eyes with it.
“I want more kisses.” He sniffed again.
Your mouth quickly formed the shape of an ‘o’, as your blush quickly turned a deeper shade of red, as if to compete against his.
You giggled, moving your hand from his face.
“You want my kisses, jagi?” You teased with a smirk.
He felt his heart going crazy in him, a tight feeling in his chest that turned his ears red.
“Aww, but aren’t you too sick for that?”
Oh, no.
You weren’t just going to give him a small kiss and then not continue all morning and all evening… right?
That couldn’t be allowed. Was it? He tsked at the thought. He had to make sure it wasn’t.
He coughed, pouting.
“No.” He coughed again. “Me. Kisses.” He sniffed. “Now.”
You laughed loudly, a sort of laugh that went right in Han’s little heart and filled it up with energy. He didn’t feel that gloomy sensation that being sick could cast over someone.
Instead, he squinted at you playfully.
“You have ten minutes, missy.” He said, already looking much better, emotionally wise at least. “Or else.”
You giggled, sheepishly pecking the corner of his lips.
"You can set up a timer, you cheeky idiot."
He moved his hand to his heart in an overly dramatic gesture that made you cackle, as he chuckled too, trying to ignore how fast his heartbeat felt under his hand.
Nine minutes and forty three seconds later —forty four, forty five...— you had settled a plastic bag next to his nightstand, had stolen a tissue box from the living room, and right now, you were smiling, walking one step in front of the other, carefully so to not spill over the soup you had made for him.
"It's amazing. You have to try it, I've outdone myself." You chuckled as he sat up on his bed, gingerly waiting. You left the tray on his crossed legs, moving his desk chair and nonchalantly taking a seat close to him.
"C'mon." You snickered. "Eat up." He finished it without a single complaint.
"Good boy." You teased, cackling loudly when you saw him blush.
"That's not fair," he mumbled with a pout.
"Scooch aside, Mr fairness."
You moved the pillows and laid next to him, shyly putting your arm below his neck, and then passed the other over his chest.
His face was practically in front of you.
"Hi." You grinned cheekily.
"...oh, h-hi." You giggled at his shyness. You hid the fact that you had reapplied your lipstick in the kitchen before bringing the soup, and started peppering soft kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his mouth...
Oh, you were surely going to catch whatever he had.
[☆★🧣★☆]
~Kats, who doesn't understand why tumblr won't let her stack pictures when answering asks, reason why I post them separately, lol. Thanks for the request, gorgeous!
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