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toxicanonymity · 9 months

Text

needs

3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader

joel master list

Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prequel), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6), but can read alone.

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.

“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .

-------

It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous. He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.

Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it. He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable.

He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you. Of course it would.

You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too. He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun.

It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you.

“Can I see it?” you ask.

“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”

“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?”

It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.

“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate. “Can ya gimme a second, honey?”

“Okay.” He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away. “Now?”

“No. Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make.

“What do you mean”

“Just trust me, it’s not how you wanna see it.”

“Why?"

“Cause it ain’t as. . .”

“Ain’t as what?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”

“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer.

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.”

When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.”

He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”

"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"

Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs.

After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"

"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."

You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper.

He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."

You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions.

——

He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly. Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad. If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop.

You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway.

Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like. Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit.

—--

“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft.

He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach. You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste.

“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily.

“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips. He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch.

Then, your lips wrap around the head. He inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”

You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more.

“Oh god damn,” he breathes.

You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating.

He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.

“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs.

“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees. In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel.

“Can I taste that, too?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he nods.

You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum. It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.

“Like it,” you whisper.

“Yeah? take all ya want.”

You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your teeth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.”

You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop.

“Good girl,” he sighs and cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.

—

All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.

It’s not a want. It's a need. You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it. You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.

You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.

----

One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief. He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.

On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on. But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it. “Good girl, that’s real good, honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”

God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away. Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body. He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep.

"God have mercy," he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.

"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.

He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change.

When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself.

"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair.

"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all."

"I know."

"Have a good dream?"

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all.

“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”

“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs.

"You want a hand?"

“Yeah.”

“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass. "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?"

You're quiet.

"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"

“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.”

“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit.

He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.”

“Okay.” You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down.

—-

"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats.

“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact. He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.

"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.

"Yeah,"

He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"

"You put it between my legs."

He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit.

You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"

"No, you put it inside," you whisper.

Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.

——

“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes.

Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”

“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.

Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”

“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’

“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.

“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."

“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip.

“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.” You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you.

You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.”

“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”

“Too big?”

“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”

He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”

You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.

“you like havin’ me in here?”

“I love it,” you say.

“As much as the dream?”

“More than the dream.”

“What happened next?” he asks

“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”

“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”

“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”

He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”

“Felt so good, like a massage”

“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”

“And warm”

“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that.

He begins to slowly move again and you whimper. You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good.

"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time.

"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes. His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”

You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”

You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.

“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”

His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty.

—-

He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”

You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer. He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.” You turn around and face him. “You okay, honey?”

You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.

His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath. He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.” He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod. He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.

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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. There's a virgin section on my joel master list right above the one shots. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.

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terramassakin · 1 year

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Ugggghhhh...

#fucking hell that c*nt really did a number on my brain...#been 2 fucking years but im still dealing with the trauma #and im so afraid to open my heart up again that just going for a romance option in a game is making me feel all sorts of pain #like gods damnit why cant i just enjoy these harmless romantic things now #without the memories of that parasitic waste of time rearing its ugly head???#just fuck why did i trust her.... i mean i know exactly why.#and how she manipulated me into letting her do whatever she wanted to me...#but that still doesnt make the pain im feeling right now any better #i just want to be free from her and from my mistake of letting her in my life #i know itll happen someday so im going to keep holding on till then #and continue existing out of stubborn spite to not let her be the death of me #if anyone is reading all this just know i am ok and in therapy for all this #i just needed to vent and didnt know how to make a read more on mobile 😅

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shemaycry · 4 months

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Girl, I'm into it, I'm into it, I'm into it. RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY ୨˚̣̣̣୧ periods are shitty, annoying punishments for not getting pregnant. luckily, sukuna is sweet enough to help the pain.

NOTE ୨˚̣̣̣୧ i’m currently on my period & i also find period sex hot asf so there you go. i know a few people don’t like it, so if you are one of them— turn away! this was originally gonna be either noritoshi or choso (blood techniques) but i decided on sukuna 🫶🏾 please excuse typos & grammar mistakes i posted this late!

“Damnit woman, which one is it?”

“Sukuna, I sent a fucking picture for a reason!” You yelled down the phone, eyebrows pinched close as annoyance flooded through your body. Between your lover’s idiotic tendencies and the fact it felt like a hundred soldiers were tap dancing on your uterus— you had little care if your words were rude.

Still, the man gave a sharp watch your tone; before turning the phone to allow you to see the display case of pads.

“Just tell me which one, so I can leave already.”

You sucked your teeth, bringing the phone closer and squinting at the screen. You couldn’t be entirely mad at the man, given he went to the store for you graciously with only a single eye roll. A few of your female friends don’t have the same luck with their partners. But still, what was so hard about looking at the picture you sent— and then grabbing that pack?

A soft huff escaped, “That one.. it’s uh— the purple one. Long with wings.”

You watched as his tatted hand reached for the correct pack, even pushing it into the camera for further confirmation.

“These are huge..”

You felt warmth flood through your cheeks, giving a sharp just buy the damn pads, before ending the call. You tossed your phone to the side, turning to curl up into a ball whilst your arms hugged your stomach. Soft groans escaped you with each cramp, attempting to find a comfortable position to get into.

You tried a heating pad, a hot shower, and even pills to minimize the pain— and yet, it still remained. At the same exact intensity as it was this morning.

Another groan escaped you, body turning to lay on your stomach and your face into your pillow. The softness of your towel grazed your stomach and bare thighs, the only comforting thing at the moment.

Whilst delving in your own misery, the bedroom door opened, revealing your loving boyfriend and the bag of pads.

Sukuna took one look at your helpless state and laughed to himself, tossing the bag to the edge of the bed. “Cramps kicking your ass, huh?”

You could only groan, rolling onto your back and sinking into the bed. You glanced at the man, spotting his back to you as he snatched the black hoodie off his body; revealing his tattooed back. Your eyes then flicked to the ceiling, lids fluttering shut.

“I tried a shower.. pills, everything Kuna. This sucks..”

“Tried an orgasm?”

You gave a soft sound of disapproval. You were aware of the method, the pleasant feeling sure to rid you of your cramps— but the thought of such a mess wasn’t something you were into. Nor did you think Sukuna was in, either.

Until.. a tight lock around your ankle caused your thoughts to cease, gasping as you were suddenly dragged towards the edge of the bed. Your eyes flew open, staring up at the man who was currently situating your legs onto his hips.

“Sukuna, what..”

“You’re gonna keep complaining about the cramps, might as well get rid of them.” Sukuna claimed, acting as if it was the most obvious thing ever. He leaned down, lips finding yours in an instant, a heated kiss being shared between the two of you.

Your hands found his shoulders, sliding across his bare hot skin— groaning the moment his thick, wet muscle intruded your mouth. Naturally your hands were sliding up, fingers curling into his pink tresses for leverage. Despite how good the kiss was, your mind couldn’t shake the nervousness that surrounded you. Having sex on your period just seemed like a mess waiting to happen.

Surely Sukuna would get grossed out, right? But.. he did offer. You were going through the motions, weighing the options, and absentmindly pulling away from the kiss. You hadn’t realized until a sharp voice interrupted your thinking once more.

“Always thinking so damn hard..” Sukuna spoke, pushing his hips forward. The man grinned as your hand fell to his waist, watching you stifle a quiet groan. He began to reach down, gripping your wrist and yanking it up to press against the bed. The glint in his eyes was all too familiar, something that always caused a heat of warmth to spread throughout your body.

Yet, that still wasn’t enough to shake the anxiety.

“Sukuna..” You gasped as the man moved closer, finding your neck to kiss and nip. Your stomach was stirring, arousal pooling between your legs. “— it’s.. a mess, baby. Are you su—?”

“Would I be touching you if I wasn’t sure?” He interrupted, his free hand gliding down the plane of your body. Without hesitation the man was breaching your shorts and panties, spreading your wet folds to rub at your clit. “Keep interrupting me..” Sukuna warned, biting at your throat— causing you to whine.

Your hips rose into the feeling, his two thick digits rubbing tight circles onto your swelling bud. Your arousal was building, surely soiling both his hand and shorts— but neither of you cared in the moment. Instead, Sukuna seemed to chase this; gliding his fingers down to sink into your entrance, easily.

Plunging inside, curling at your spongy walls— your legs were opening wider as the pleasure began to consume your body, dulling your mind. You hadn’t even realized your hand was free until you felt him flip your shirt up and grab your breast. His thumb brushed across your nipple, it hardening under his touch and the cool air.

Sukuna continued to tweak the hardened bud, scissoring his fingers inside of you all while a grin played at his lips. “You were so against it just a second ago, and yet..” His eyes dipped to where his hand currently was, a third finger pushing inside to meet his other two. “— you’re moving your hips so eagerly.”

Your moans were more vocal at this point, pitching into whines each time his fingers curled to press against that special spot. Your stomach clenched with each thrust, feeling a pressure build inside of you. “K—kuna, mm..!” You could barely speak, hand gripping the towel underneath you as you began to fuck your self on his fingers. A difficult task given the position, but one the man definitely encouraged.

“Mm.. that’s it, keep ruining yourself on my fingers, sweetheart.” Sukuna was clearly enjoying this more than you, leaning down to swipe his tongue across your bud just to watch you shiver. You were sensitive, painfully so, that each movement had you trembling as if he had touched you hundred times. His watchful eyes were eating it all, casting an image to save for a later date.

Soon enough the pressure was forming, becoming too much like a bubble ready to burst. Your head leaned back into the bed, lips parted as soft whines escaped. “Su—sukuna, fuck, fuck! I’m close—!” Your back arched the moment his thrusts became more intense, a blinding white passing through your eyes before you came— legs shaking around his form.

Sukuna’s fingers slowed but didn’t stop, mixing up your fluids and throughly fucking you through your high. The man ignored your sensitive whines until he was satisfied, pulling his fingers out soon after. Your lover was unfazed by the red mess staining his tattooed appendage, simply wiping it against the towel underneath. “Made such a mess..”

“Don’t make make fun of me, Sukuna. That was embarrassing enough.”

Your boyfriend grinned, fingers hooking onto your shorts and panties to slowly tug down. “Embarrassing? I wouldn’t know, given how much you were moaning just a minute ago.” The cackle he released was downright maniacal, tossing your clothes to the side whilst going for his own.

Your body was hot, cheeks puffed as you attempted to glare at him. “Whateve—er..” Your words dragged the moment his cock began to tap against your clit, the man gliding it along your slit carefully.

“You say something?” Sukuna mocked, a hand reaching to your thigh and pushing you up farther onto the bed. He continued to glide himself between your folds, watching your stomach tense each time his tip made contact with your sensitive bud.

The anticipation was welling inside your stomach, fingers gripping the towel as you rose to grind against him— gasping the moment he began to enter you. Sukuna fed you inch by inch slowly, pushing deep into you whilst the reddened arousal was tainted his cock. The thought of doing this.. was gross, weird, and something you definitely wouldn’t do.

But now? While in the act. The only thing you could think about was how good he was stretching you; filling you up so easily and then some. Your legs were shaking around him, his name falling for your lips in a honeyed gasp as you slowly became adjusted.

Sukuna leaned over your body, a hand falling to your throat to direct you; forcing eye contact. “Don’t go dumb yet, I just started.” He grinned, rising you up a bit to snatch your lips in a deep kiss— while pulling his hips back at the same time.

The first thrust was always so deep and harsh, making your legs bounce and your thoughts go slack. Within a minute, Sukuna started a bruising pace inside; fucking you deep into the mattress all while kissing you so sweetly. The differences were making your head spin, unable to focus on a complete feeling before the other fought to take over.

You breathed heavily into his mouth, struggling to keep up with his tongue all while his length fucked into you. His hand suddenly fell from your neck down to your thigh, gripping it tightly and pushing it up.

The raise position caused your head to fall back into the bed, moans escaping you freely as your trembling hand suddenly fell to his waist. “Sh—shit.. Kuna, hah..! Feels so good, fuck—!”

Your cries were music to his ears, even enjoying the way your pretty manicured fingers dragged across his lower stomach with each thrust.

Sukuna leaned even closer, using his body weight to fold you like some damn chair. The stretch in your muscles washed away with each slam into your messy cunt, your walls clinging to him as a desperate pressure formed in your stomach. Your words were jumbling together, moans broken as tears welled in your eyes.

The man grinned at the display, cock twitching in your wet sex with each thrust. “Can’t even fucking think, can you? Should have fucked you dumb like this earlier..” Sukuna claimed, a hand falling between the two of you to press against your stomach. He felt himself inside you, his ego swelling more and more.

You were so close now, back arching up off the bed as your legs trembled. The band inside you was growing thinner and thinner, desperate moans escaping your lips.

And yet, Sukuna stopped suddenly— right when you were about to hit your peak. You felt the disappointment crash down on you in an instant, glaring up at the man with glossy eyes.

“Su—sukuna, why would you do that?!” You whined, feeling your irritation grow when you noticed the grin on his face.

Instead of replying, however, Sukuna leaned up from his previous position; your legs falling to his hips. In one swift movement he was switching you onto your stomach, hooking his arms under your legs to bring you to your knees.

Before you could think he was sinking back inside of you, hand sliding to your back to arch you even further. This position left you far too vulnerable, the man fucking you into the mattress with no way to move away or escape.

Your face was mushed against the wet towel and sheets, crumbling them within your hands as desperate, pleasurable cries escaped you. He was stirring with up inside, hips slamming against your ass and causing your body to shake.

Sukuna’s hands laid a bruising grip on your hips, eyes focused on your body. He was entranced by it; the recoil of your ass, the way a creamy ring was forming around the base of his dick, and the way you not so subtly tried to move away from the thrusts.

“Oh, is it too much, brat? You want me to slow down don’t you?..” Like he would. You and him both knew that wasn’t going to happen. The knowledge solidifying the moment his hand rose to grab a nice handful of your braids, gently tugging to get you onto your hands.

“..Messy fucking pussy— don’t try to run, take this dick.”

You cried out as his free hand suddenly slammed against your cheek, the stinging pain shooting right between your legs; increasing your arousal. Your walls were clinging to him, clenching each time his tip brushed against that perfect spot inside you.

The man suddenly released your hand, your body falling to the bed as he continued to fuck into you. Sukuna’s large hands fell to your cheeks, separating them for the perfect look. “Mm.. shouldn’t neglect this hole either.” Your lover suddenly dragged in a soft tone, one you nearly didn’t catch. Until his thumb was suddenly sliding against your puckered hole, pushing in carefully.

The sudden intrusion caused your body to lunge, shaking as whines escaped you. His free hand massaged your ass as if to soothe you, continuing to push it in until he reach the knuckle.

The foreign sensation took a moment, tight entrance clenching around the digit. But the moment you relaxed, a new found pleasure washing over you; your arousal increasing, and dripping all down his cock.

“Sukuna.. fuck! Please, please, please—!” You were pleading so loudly now, tears trickling down your cheeks, as you rutted back against him; pushing your ass into his lower stomach.

Sukuna grinned at this, leaning over your body; hitting your deep all while mocking your moans right in your ear. “Clenchin’ me so damn much, fucking close aren’t you? Bet you wanted this even more then I did, such a damn freak..” His words came out in a soft hiss, slamming himself deep as his cock twitched, his own climax quickly approaching.

You gripped the sheets, back arched into his hot body as broken babbles of his name escaped. Within minutes you were cumming, making a complete mess on both him and underneath you.

Yet his hips never stopped, the intensity never dulling despite your body going slack against the bed. You whined as the sensitivity began to grow, fisting the blankets for leverage.

“Fu—fuck, Sukuna— I can’t..”

“You can.. was being so fucking good for me, don’t stop now.” Sukuna groaned, fingers digging into you as his thrusts became desperate. “Milkin my dick, shit— want me to fill you up, don’t you? Maybe even put a baby in this pretty fucking stomach, so you won’t have to worry about cramps.”

The thought caused your head to spin, unable to say a word and instead nodding repeatedly. Sukuna chuckled at this for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed, pushing himself deep before releasing inside.

Heavy pants covered the room as you came down from your highs, a sharp groan escaping you as he removed both his thumb and length from within you. Your hips lowered to the bed, cheek brushing against the blankets.

As your legs moved, the sticky feeling between them caused you to cringe— tilting to glance at the man.

“Sukuna..”

He grinned a little at you, hand smoothing across your back. “Yeah, yeah.. I’ll help you clean up.”

comments & reblogs are appreciated

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hypewinter · 3 months

Text

A continuation of this

It was amazing how interesting the hors d'oeuvre table became when one was avoiding social interaction. Danny pouted as he filled yet another plate with the tiny little snack foods. He should have listened to Mom. She had warned him he wouldn't like the party but he insisted on coming too. But how could he resist? When he heard all the fun stories his uncles told, he wanted to see for himself. And his grandpa had been so happy that he wanted to come too. Danny thought he would be in for a night of excitement especially since he'd be able to stay up past his bedtime yet instead he was currently bored out of his mind. He was also incredibly uncomfortable.

Danny didn't like how all these older people kept coming up to him and asking him weird questions or squeezing his cheeks. His mom and uncles tried to intercept as many people as possible but some people had gotten to him and. Danny didn't complain though as he's the one who wanted to come anywhere and he didn't want to seem like a brat. Plus he was still holding out hope that one of his uncles would do something interesting and if he complained, he might be taken home early.

That's why Danny had taken to avoiding his mom. She was very good at reading him and was even teaching him how to read others. If she saw him it would take 0.2 seconds for her to realize he didn't want to be here anymore. Mom was really nice so she would probably take him back home when she noticed. But Danny was a big boy and big boys suck it up for uncomfortable parties that they begged to attend. Though he still wished Sam were here. Sam? Who's Sam? He couldn't remember. There were a lot of things Danny couldn't remember. Even when he tried really hard to.

"Ah so this is the newest Wayne brat!"

Danny was pulled from his thoughts and looked up to see a man staring down at him. The man's blonde hair was very shiny. Must be full of a lot of that gel Uncle Damian liked to use. But he had put on too much and now his head looked all flat and shiny. But maybe the man liked being shiny since he had a lot of gold jewelry on too.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" the man said harshly, his lazy brown eyes boring into Danny. His body language was practically screaming How dare you? Better than you. This man seemed to sway quite a lot too. Was he drunk? Mom had warned him to stay away from drunk people but it would be rude to just walk away wouldn't it?

Instead Danny put down his plate and signed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. You just have really pretty jewelry sir."

The man's glare only intensified. "Huh? Whazzat? Talk damnit!" He began to project annoyance.

Danny furrowed his brows slightly. The man had said a bad word. You're not supposed to say bad words around children. At least that's what Grandpa Alfred had taught him when Uncle Jason got in trouble for saying one near him. It was also frustrating that this man didn't know any sign language.

Nevertheless, Danny pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. He clicked on the first page which read, "I'm sorry, I have limited speech and use sign language to communicate. However I can use this notepad instead." He held it up for the man to read.

Yet again the man didn't seem to be satisfied as he retorted, "You can speak but you choose not to? You're an arrogant little brat aren't you?" Angry. How dare you think you're above me? Uh oh.

Danny quickly scrolled down to a blank space so that he could explain it wasn't like that but he never got the chance. The man snatched the phone from Danny's hands.

"Listen you little turd," the man hissed, leaning in close. It took all the self control in Danny's body not to gag at his breath. "You may think you're all high and mighty just because you got lucky but make no mistake. You're just gutter trash. Just like all the other pests Wayne brought into his household and just like your mother."

Tears pricked at Danny's eyes. That wasn't true. Neither his uncles nor his mother were trash. They were good people. The nicest people ever. They saved Danny from that terrible terrible place and gave him lots of hugs and sweets and warmth. This man didn't know what he was talking about.

The man continued, "You'll do well to respect me as unlike you and your little pretend family, I actually come from a distinguished background. I'm not some orphan from an unknown background whose parents probably sold him for drug money. Do you hear me?" Hostile. Don't mess with me!

"If I tell you to speak to me, you speak to me. Is that clear?" You're beneath me. Know your place.

Danny didn't know how much longer he could keep the tears at bay. Luckily he didn't have to.

"Is there a problem?" There she was. Mom! In all of her glory. Her hair done up in a little bun and dressed in a suit matching his. He had actually picked it out for her.

Danny rushed over to her and clung to her leg. Not trash he projected. My family. Meanwhile, the man's attitude did a complete 180. "Ah Ms. Cassandra it's so nice to see you again! I was just complimenting your little one on how cute his suit looked on him!"

Mom ignored him and looked to Danny instead.

What happened?

Insulted you. Insulted my family. Mean man. Bad man.

Cass gently patted Danny's head. He loved when she did that. Okay now. Don't worry.

Mom turned back to the man. "For someone so much better than everyone, you really like hanging out in the Bowery," she said. I know your secret.

The man stiffened. Does she know? How does she know? "I'm really not sure what you're referring to Ms. Wayne." Nervous. Agitated.

Mom didn't say anything. Just leveled a stare at the man. His smile began slipping in the awkward silence. Panicked. Must leave.

"Well I should probably be going now. I feel like I've had too much to drink. Perhaps I'll go sit down," the man said quickly, excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, Cass turned back to Danny. Okay? Danny buried his face into her leg. Wanna go home. In the next moment, Danny felt himself being picked up and cradled in his mother's arms. Let's go home, she portrayed with a smile. Danny desperately clung to her suit as his bottom lip wobbled.

"Sorry," he whispered. He wanted her to know he really meant it. That he was truly sorry.

He felt a kiss be planted on his forehead. "Don't be," Mom replied. Danny wrapped his arms around her neck and closed his eyes, finally letting the tears he'd been holding at bay fall. He took in the warmth and love his mother showered over him. His family wasn't trash. They were his saviors.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales #you be believe when the rest of his family hears what that man said to danny #his life will be ruined

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44st4rs · 4 days

Text

...AND ON THAT NIGHT!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ synopsis: With his account just a few cents from a negative, Toji turns to his favorite site to ease his woes. Until a certain ad gains his attention...and feeds his need for cash. He'll just please a lady who's half a mile away!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ pairings: widow!fem!reader x toji fushiguro

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ cw: 9.2k words, pwp, mentions of death, age gap (toji’s 35, reader’s 27), pet names, grinding, toji has an implied mommy kink, n*pple play, cuņnilingus, cūm eating(?), power play, use of protection

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ words from chris: part one is here...again! please read up and enjoy! i'm having so much fun with this and i can't wait for you all to share in that love, xoxo!

part 2 • the man for hire m.list

"Damnit...'nother day and I'm still broke."

It's easy to say that Toji is stuck in a trance as his dead eyes are pinned to the bolded words in his palm.

CHECKINGS: XXXX

BALANCE: ¥ 0.45

Toji's thumb has yet to leave the screen of his phone, the illuminated screen shouting back at him. He's dragging along the cracked surface like he's looking for something—something that would change his life right at that moment.

He's so ingrained in his search that he's managed to drown out his current reality—seated on the empty late-night train tracing around Tokyo with only himself to claim as baggage. He's even got earbuds in too, though the only sound in his ears is the tugging clash of the train running along the tracks.

He pulls the hand braced along his knee to comb the messy black crown of his hair, brushing back thick strands away from his strained eyes.

It's a hard pill to swallow and the only urge Toji has at that moment is to spit it out and crush it beneath the heel of his black leather work boots. But for now, he's settling for the warmth of the train cart for peace of mind.

Toji leaned back into his seat, tugging at the gray fabric of his thermal bunched along his chest. His eyes shift from his phone to anywhere other than his despairing reality, only to catch his reflection in the train window.

It's a sight to take in—his fair skin smooth and polished, his black hair frazzled due to his touch. There wasn't a lick of hardship to be found within his visage—all except for his eyes, of course.

His once vibrant azure hues now mimic that of the night sky. He's alive on the outside but akin to that of a zombie within his soul. In his very seat, he's sitting there dead to himself and dead to his surroundings.

So much potential burns at the palm of his hands but opportunities have yet to appear to Toji. So much time and years have passed, and not a single one caught up to him to reap some reward. He could sit here and think about all of his life choices, but he knew better than to dwell on what couldn't be fixed.

That didn't mean he couldn't pout for a minute, though.

"What a life..." he utters, bringing a hand to wipe over his tired features, leaving the rough thick tips of his fingers to pinch along the bridge of his nose.

"How did I get here? Strapped for cash and livin' on the lam...just perfect."

Toji knew one thing though—he needed a get-rich-quick scheme quickly. Not for millions, just enough to get him by and afloat.

His eyes settled back onto the blackened screen of his phone, racking through his brain to decide what could ease his monetary woes: XXXHub.

No matter his mood, Toji can always count on his favorite porn site to brighten his mood. All he needed was a quick peek at the newly uploaded filth that awaited him.

His thumbs went to work, clicking on one of the bookmarks to bring him to XXXHub's homepage. The grin that glows upon his features is devious but the thoughts that swirl his brain surpass all curls of his mouth.

He was already scrolling through the categories, deciding which one would be his sin for tonight...that was true until a certain blinking red banner beneath the website's logo caught his regard.

"FUCK A LONELY LADY AND GET PAID TODAY! SHE'S 0.7KM AWAY!"

"Hm..." he mumbles through a tightened pout. "Is that all I gotta do for a quick dump of cash?"

The title piques Toji's attention, earning a sharp arch of his brow. In better days, he knew better than to click on links like this, but with the reality he's living in, the risk of a virus is worth it.

And so...he did it. His thumb—without a lick of hesitancy in sight, clicks upon the blinking banner, navigating him to a home page of profiles and a lengthy explanation.

"Fuck a pretty lady right now! These women are all lonely and can't please their poor pussies anymore :(!

They're all alone and begging for your cock! So scroll down and pick whose bed you'll end up in tonight!"

Toji merely shrugs his shoulders as he begins his search, his eyes scanning through the first page of profiles. He taps, he huffs, and he flips through all the options, eagerness bubbling deep within his belly. How could he choose between all the pretty faces, the perfect tits, and racy lingerie?

"God these women are perfect! She's got a cute face...that's a nice ass...and oh...who's this? She's a real pretty broad," Toji drones as he taps the profile.

He couldn't explain it, the sudden gravitation to the woman on his screen. She has a single picture on her profile—a mirror picture of her in a black silk robe.

Whatever expression she wore was hidden behind the sleeved arm of her robe, leaving just her eyes to view. Her hues told Toji a different story, a look of innocent doe eyes pawing on his heartstrings. This—this site, this kind of exposure wasn't her cup of tea. She isn't like the other hundreds of other women who had their legs spread first for the camera.

In search of learning more about his new beau, he lingers down on the woman's biography, his lips reading the words aloud.

"I'm Y/N, 27 years old, and a widow. My husband died a few years ago...that got dark real fast...and I haven't had a man in my life since. I'm not looking for anything serious, just for the night. If interested, please call the number below and...I'll be paid handsomely?!?"

"I'm handsome...and she's gonna pay handsomely?!... She's mine!"

That last sentence is all Toji had to read before sending his fingers to race across the screen. He simply had to take up the deal before anyone else did. If all he had to do was fuck a pretty girl for his account to finally see a change, he would've done it years ago.

Toji flipped between apps, punching in each digit of the phone number carefully. A set of sweaty palms and a shaky grip soon creep over him. Nervousness, something Toji hasn't felt in years. Him? Nervous to call a woman? He didn't know what to expect, whether he'd be welcomed by the mere sound of his voice. Should he try to sound different? It's a long shot but with his pockets running on empty, anything's worth trying.

With a heavy chest, Toji gave the phone number a series of checks to make sure he got every digit right before clicking the awaiting green button of fate. Bringing the phone to his ear, Toji brought his attention to his reflection once more, taking in the reality of his choice.

One ring. Two rings. Three—

"Hello?" The voice purrs into Toji's ear.

His grip on the phone grows heavy, the color of his skin fading to a ghostly white. Toji swallowed down the lump in his throat, searching for the words to begin his first impression.

"Hey! I'm calling for the ad on uh...phew...XXXHub...I just wanted to see if you were willin' to...y'know...have me for the night?"

All Toji can hear is the sharp huff of your breath before his question gets an answer.

"I'll text you the address. If you can be here in the next 30 minutes, I'll add 10,000 yen to the overall pay."

With that, the call went dead, leaving Toji with furrowed brows, widened eyes, and his mouth agape.

"She didn't even ask for my name...she must be as crazy as me."

Deep in thought, the flicker of a text message caught Toji's eye.

(XXX)XXX-XXXX:

108 Minato-Ku, TO

I'm on the 45th Floor.

"Minato? She's the next stop!" Toji rises to his feet upon the realization, his hand bracing around the steel pole for balance.

To his luck, the train slowed its pace to enter the station of Minato, the blur of the concrete platforms gaining clarity. The doors opened in time for Toji's newly encouraged stroll as he planted his foot onto the yellow line. Excitement courses through his veins as Toji begins his perilous walk. He inhales the cool Tokyo night breeze, staring down his phone once more.

"Time to get rich 'nd laid!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

1:14 A.M.

Your eyes stare at the digital numbers illuminating your phone screen. He called at one and in the fourteen minutes that's passed, all you've done is roam about the penthouse living.

"He's coming...he's actually coming! I–"

"Uh Ms. Y/N?" a voice on the intercom interrupts your nervous ramblings. The call grabs your attention, urging you to walk towards the elevator doors. Your finger pressed against the red response button, prompting your reply.

"Yes?"

"You have a guest coming up. Says his name is Toji. He's tall, kinda an off guy, but he's real attractive, so...have fun!"

"Oh um...t-thank you!" You stammered, leaving your teeth to sink into your bottom lip. It was one thing to have a complete stranger come into your home—but to have your doorman wish you a fun night was one for the books.

Now, a mere few minutes stood between you and Toji— and the pummeling heartbeats flooding your senses didn't begin to calm your nerves. Your eyes scanned over every inch of the living room, searching for some form of relief.

The comfort of your space quickly calmed your racing mind–the polished red granite floor, the fluffy tan pillows, and white throw blankets covering the espresso-colored sectional, and the glimmering chandelier hanging over the glass coffee table in the center. Your eyes fell onto the mirror along the wall, scrambling steps pitting you before it.

"Okay...I look great," you hummed, scanning over your mirror's reflection. A pink silk robe graced your body with a lacy black matching bra and panties hidden beneath.

You're so invested in your reflection that the common ring of the elevator doors falls on deaf ears–until what followed brought your blood to a stilled run.

"This is a nice place! I've only seen these places on TV, never thought I'd be seein' it in real life!"

Your arms dropped to your side, allowing for the white polished tips of your nails to grab at the hem of your robe. You turned around to greet him head-on, yet all the words you had for him weathered down to a few jumbled thoughts.

"Well...hello to you, too...what's your name?"

He came to a standstill, turning around on his heels to meet you. His eyes widened in sheer awe at the sight of you, something he paired with a soft smile.

"Toji, oh and...Hi!" He announced, tugging his hand out of his pocket to wave. "You've got a nice home, Y/N."

"Thanks..." you push off as you direct Toji towards the sofa, seating yourself at the opposing side of the coffee table.

"Please, have a seat. I didn't think you'd get here so fast, I would've made tea or something to eat."

"No need to do anything special for me, Pretty girl. You're already helping me more than you know," Toji grinned as he settled into the sectional, sitting opposite of you.

A sly smile grew across your lips as his words filled the air. You turned away to avoid his gaze but it wasn't enough for Toji to ignore.

He leans back into the ribbed cushion of the sectional, his legs spreading apart to mirror his newfound comfort.

As his arms stretch along the backing, Toji's head fell into a tilt as he took in the full sight of you at last—glossy lips, smooth skin hidden behind that pesky robe he wishes you'd lose already, and all the curves he's dying to get his hands on. But before he could, Toji knew he had to warm you up to some extent.

"So...I know y're husband died, sorry 'bout that. I bet he's looking down at the pretty lady he left behind."

You shrugged his courtesy off, "It's alright. The pain's washed away and I just keep moving on. Can't dwell on it forever."

"I feel ya, just keep on moving."

"You...understand?"

"Lost my first and second wife...trust me, I know."

A shrouding silence falls over you both, with just the subtle stifled breaths filling the tense air. Putting aside his wary means of kindness, you were finally able to gawk at the strange man you've allowed to enter your sacred world.

Your sights finally meet Toji's, the two curious gazes softening with each passing moment. Per the doorman's warning, Toji truly was attractive. Tall, black hair that fell just short to the curves of his ears, azure eyes perfect for the job of enchanting, and that scar along his lip piqued your interest in him more than it should. Just his demeanor alone—the blend of a bold, menacing confidence carrying a timid wave to wash over you.

Until Toji's musing finally cuts the awkward tension in half.

"Y'know...I'm just thinking...this is a really nice place," he notes as he stretches his thumb to graze along his jaw.

"Yeah, Toji, thanks, you said that already," you huff.

"But listen, I'm thinking...why don't we...extend our deal? Would you be willing to have me...past tonight?"

Your lips don a growing grimace, your eyes narrowing a taunting squint.

"That's not what we agreed on."

Toji's hands immediately shot up in defense, waving the invisible flag of surrender.

"Yes, you're right. But think about it, I'm a pretty clean guy—keep myself groomed if I do say so myself. And I'd be here to fulfill any and all of your needs. I can even be your bodyguard! I know some creeps try to throw themselves at you—"

"Like what you're doing right now?" You shot back, folding your arms against your chest.

All Toji conjures is a smirk, "Can't be a creep if I'm here to fuck you, Pretty. But I like the sassy attitude....Like I was saying...I can just...protect you. Plus, you can take down that ad and save yourself the hardship of dealing with another me."

"And how do I know you'll be any good at pleasing me?"

That's when a heavy scoff—dark, heavy, and accursed with scorn rang from Toji's lips. It was almost your question just pricked at his pride, using his laughter to protect the endangered sanctum of his ego.

He broke away from your stare, leaving you to study him instead. He plows his palm to his chest, lazily dragging those rough digits of his to delineate along the hidden contours of his abdomen, right down to rest atop the peeking glint of his belt buckle.

"I told you to trust me either, didn't I?" He rasped lowly. "I know your type and let's just say it's my weakness. I'm gonna please you, sweetheart. Just keep your end of the deal and we'll be getting along."

"Someone's cocky, and what do you mean you know my type?"

"You're doing too much talking," he gripes, "And not enough thinking. I just offered to be your personal toy, what's your answer gonna be?"

You hold back any thought to ridicule Toji further, your teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip. He wasn't playing around anymore, not with that blooming dark glint blending with the denim blue hue of his eyes.

"I'm assuming you still expect to be paid?"

"Naturally. I don't need a fortune, just enough to stay afloat."

The tips of your fingers drummed along the wrinkled leather cushion as you mulled over Toji's demands. It wasn't a bad deal, you both did gain something in the end. It feeds whatever he was looking for and it strangely calms some of your nerves.

Maybe having Toji would finally ease your nerves about having a man around again. His conditions truly brought some security to you and your home—unless he planned on robbing you.

You give him one final glance over—hinging over his own tantalizing stare. A risk to say yes, but something told you it'd be a bigger risk to let him walk out once the time came.

"Fine," you sigh, " We have a deal, but the second I even sense that you're crossing the line, you're done."

Toji lays his hand on his chest once more, huddled over his heart. "You have my word. I won't do more than what you tell me. But now that we've struck a deal...I think we should celebrate."

Toji pats at the empty spot beside him, the leather reverberating his taps softly into the air. "Anyways, don't you wanna come sit...near me at least?"

"That's..fair," you agree, standing from your spot on the couch.

A few sauntering steps bring you to sit beside Toji, leaving just inches of space between you both. You couldn't even begin to look at him, but the heat of his stare is hard to ignore. He's taking you in, better than the cryptic profile photo online could ever present you.

The weight of the cushions shifted slightly as Toji leaned in towards you, finally fixing his sight over you entirely.

"This is your first time doing something like this, isn't it?"

"No... What if I'm just quiet in nature?"

A gentle chuckle flooded Toji's chest. "If you were naturally quiet, we wouldn't be here right now. This isn't your type of thing, I know. But hey..." Toji trailed off.

To lure your attention, he places an outstretched finger to nuzzle along the curve of your chin, forcing you to face him without room for interference.

"You've got me now."

The scent of mint floods your nose, accompanied by the robust musk of a cologne. He was so close, and with the stare he voluntarily pulled you into, you had no choice but to bear him for all he was.

A man with such flawlessly fair skin, seemingly invigorated with a refreshing glow. His brows were thin and groomed from what could be seen, hidden behind the fluffy onyx strands of hair. His lips plump, brushed with a sheer coat of pink as he bared a faint smile towards you.

And right there on the corner of his mouth was a rough scar, a crude memory that now complements his charms; the same charm that struck you with awe. He barely had a hold over you, yet you were melting into his whims quicker than you could even begin to think.

Toji's free hand came to lay along the curve of your thigh, his thick, calloused palm settling into the warmth of your supple skin. You study his hand carefully—his hand's easily twice the size of your own, shaped by rough skin and faded scars.

Though, Toji carries a gentle touch, so gentle that the nerves under your skin prickle with sheer anticipation. Your gaze flows from Toji's hold, leading your sights to meet his own.

"This is a better look on you, Princess. Think we can get a little more comfortable?"

"I think we can do that," you grin, freely leaning into Toji's care. Your arms are quick to fold around the nape of his neck, leaving Toji to close the distance as he leads you onto his lap. His hands cup at the hem of your pink robe, the pads of his fingers teasing to slip beneath.

"You said you're gonna be able to pleasure me, right? Then...do it, I'm letting you take control," the astute words rolling off your tongue.

"Oh, I like you already!," Toji smirks, the scar on the corner of his lip curling.

His hands slipped from your back to the rich heft of your ass, his digits finally kneading at the silky plush. "Tell me what you like, or we can spend all night figuring it out together. It's not like we're rushing to go anywhere."

Hearing Toji's question brought a flickering heat to swarm your cheeks. But you've picked up on one thing thus far with Toji—he didn't have a single care for what could be vulgar, or lewd—he just wants what's real and raw.

"Um...well I like being touched...like what you're doing now. I really like kisses, I-"

Toji nuzzles himself into your chest, his breath fanning over your skin.

"So...you like kisses like this?" His lips settle against the crook of your neck.

His efforts were nothing short of delicate, his lips painting peppering pecks about your skin like a brush to a canvas.

"J-Just like that," you mutter, your hands bracing the weakened collar of Toji's shirt.

Your hands slip away from the nape of his neck to cup his face, gently prying him from his splayed mess of kisses. Within your hands, the cushions of your digits are careful to stroke along the contours of his jaw. But your touch wanders a little higher, hovering over his lips. The pad of your thumb sits along his bottom lip, wiping away the glossy sheen of spit.

Toji's eyes remain on you, intrigued by your developing notion. His hands kept busy to ground his drifting mind, roaming about to brace your arching spine. The pit within his stomach churns with suspense, yearning for that fragile touch of yours to engulf him in a world far away from his own.

"What do you wanna do? Got my attention now, Princess."

"Tell me what you like," you croon with a winding smile on your lips.

The faint flare of rouge sprinkled across the highs of Toji's cheeks, his swollen lips bearing a gaping 'o'.

"Oh, you don't gotta worry about me—"

"But I want to. So...I'm waiting to hear something."

"Just making you cum is all I want. Don't worry much about me, you hired me, remember?"

"That's not the answer I want," you brood with a pout.

"But that's the answer you're gonna get. Trying to spoil me, huh? 'M not used to that these days," he murmured as he pressed his pursed lips against your thumb.

"Guess I'll just have to learn, I'm excited too though," you smile.

"I'm not gonna make it—"

Before the next word could roll off his quipped tongue, you push a kiss onto Toji's lips, your fading smile buried within the slew of lust.

You couldn't have imagined Toji's lips to be so soft against your own. He's mimicking your every move, welcoming a fluid tide crashing the two of you. When you push, he pulls with just enough force to leave you chasing for more.

Your tongue swipes along his bottom lip, inducing a shy whimper to trickle from his throat. He tows you in that much closer, desperately trying to contain himself within your care. Your chest smothers against his, the laggard breaths filling his lungs.

Toji gives into you as your tongue slid over his. He couldn't help it, greedily coiling the slicked flat around your own. It's selfish to drag you into his sick urges, but with the way you fit in his hands, your lips dancing with his own, and god—your tongue rolling over his like a binding knot, apologies were nowhere near due.

In the heat of it all, you pull away for a moment's breath—but not without sealing Toji's tongue between your lips, suckling at the limp muscle.

Breaking away from the messy kiss you've fallen into, your thumb drums along Toji's cheek, his fluttering eyes opening to reveal a lust-blazoned glow.

"Guess you like kisses too," you chuckle, planting a peck along the highs of his flushed cheeks.

"Fuck, I can't take it, where's your bed?" he hounds, adjusting you in his hold.

Toji lifts you with sinful ease, your legs instinctively lacing around his waist.

You bury your head in the crook of his neck, taking in the intoxicating

"It's the door down the hall, you're already staring at it."

Your muffled words guide Toji down the dimmed hallway towards your bedroom door, nudging his knee at the agape door to expose the sanctuary of your bedroom.

"Wow, got a nicer room here than out there," Toji marveled as he stood over the bed. He laid you down onto the plush white blanket, the shape of your body imprinting into the fluffy white weft.

"Thank you," you smirk as you perch yourself onto your elbows, peeking up at Toji as he tends to himself. He works quickly to rip the gray henley shirt from his waist over the top of his head off and onto the wine-carpeted floor of your bedroom.

Toji's hand sits along his stomach, wiping his broad digits across the defined cuts of his abdomen—earning a well-deserved gaze from your hungry eyes.

"Go on, I know you wanna touch me," he hints as he dips his body over yours. You drop onto the bed, your hands pawing at the vast hull of Toji's chest as he traps you beneath him. The sheer warmth of his skin lulls you further into his captivating hold. You found yourself in a hypnotic state the more your hands explored along Toji's bare skin.

"I know that look—you like what you see, don't you Angel?" Toji sneered as his fingertips reached out to your visage, stroking the back of his digits along your cheek.

"I-I don't know what to say, I—"

"So...don't. Don't say anything. Just...kiss me like that again...please," Toji pleads, his puffy lips brushing against your own.

A weary grin teases your lips to curl as you nod, your arms encircling Toji's neck. You oblige with a light peck before dragging him back down into the dizzying bliss he's begging for.

Just an hour could have passed since Toji's met you and already he's bound himself to you just like that. He can't understand why either—it's just a kiss. Yet he can't remember the last time when a kiss like this held him captive, wanting more with each passing second.

It's just a kiss but he can't bring himself to stop pouring pitiful whimpers when your tongues coiled around each other. It's just a kiss and he's losing himself to the flourishing desire you draw out from the depths of his being.

Well...almost losing himself.

His hand breaks away from the caress of your features, sending those heavy digits to drift across the silhouette of your body. His wandering touch made itself just shy of your panties, the lacy edge grazing against his fingers.

But he's careful not to break the seal that barriers your navel from the heat between your legs. Rather, he finds himself crumbling what bits of fabric he can between his fingers tips, tugging the panties taut against your cunt.

A lewd wince breaks from your lips, and a smile cracks along his own.

"Aww, you like that?" Toji hums, "Think you've got something to tell me?"

You can only stare at Toji with a mouth wearing a witless gape as he continues to tease you, yanking at your panties with no end in sight. He's lazy with it but that doesn't mean it's not without intent. He's intending to work those thin panties of yours to slip past the fat lips of your cunt and fix whatever friction he can build to drive right up against your poor clit.

Your hand races to find some way to end his selfish exposé, nails clipping into the worked bulk of his forearms. Yet the words you want to say to him come out in nothing but broken gasps and whimpers.

He's leaving the comfort of your lips for something new, laying a trail of kisses down to your chest. Gently, he brings his free hand to your breasts, pushing away the annoying robe to slip his hand into the cup of your bra.

You're so soft, such delicate skin shouldn't have been handled by a man such as he, but for the sake of pleasing you, he'll ignore it for tonight.

He slowly guides the pillowy plush from behind the pesky bra, your tits sitting pretty for his sore eyes to take in. A sight just for him but he can't help but to drag that tongue of his past your nipple, smirking at how the decadent buds stiffen between his lips.

Toji pulls away with a lewd 'pop', overlooking your poor nipple twitches in the room's cool air. He carries his fingers to draft along the curve of your tits, mindless strokes leading him to roll out the stiffened peaks for his ministrations all over again.

But he isn't satisfied by this game, his brows furrowing into a knot. His hues shoot your tested stare—his eyelids heavy enough to squint but fluttering just enough for you to absorb the full intent behind his eyes.

"Oh, 'm trying so hard to be nice, Y/N, swear I am. 'Til you tell me what you want, just gonna keep teasing you," he sings softly as he welcomes your nipple into the gummy hollows of his mouth once more.

"O-Okay okay, let me just—"

Toji's impatient. He can't wait for you to try and find the words, not when he knows they are sitting right there at the tip of your tongue. So he's willing to help you draw it out—by using his own tongue to suck at suckling at the roused bud of your nipple as you speak.

"Wait, Toji 'm trying!" You whine, tightening your grip along his forearm.

"Try harder, 'm not the one making a mess."

Your hand searches for his wrist, lithe digits binding around him. The hold he has over your panties loosens as you pull his hand to sink past the soiled cotton triangle at last.

"Please...touch me."

A chuckle cracks within Toji's throat, "That's what I've been waiting for—Tch, really making me work for my pay."

Without another word breaking into the air, Toji's fingers work themselves into a sweeping whirl about your clit. He's so soft, using a feather-like touch to ease the roused bundle of nerves into his trust.

He's painfully tender from what his mouth leads on, leaving his fingers to drift past your fold and pinned to the stingy slit of your pussy. The tip of his digit pecks at your hole, coaxing your walls to accept his touch.

Bit by bit he's slipping in, stuffing your pussy with the overwhelming girth of his digits. He reaches your sweet with disgusting ease, he would curse his luck if he wasn't so focused on the cute faces befalling your face.

But there was one in particular that he's fond of—your eyes rolling back into your skull, your swollen lips pursed onto a quivering frown. Your hands can't seem to decide where to rest, both palms grasping onto his surging forearm—as if that was really enough to stop him.

"This is all you wanted, isn't it, Princess? You aren't that mean, just can't use those hands of yours to touch yourself like you need to. Let me fix all that for ya," he hums, pressing a kiss onto your cheek.

But Toji doesn't just stop there. He's reeling away from your side completely, standing at the foot of the bed with his hands bracing along the contours of your waist.

"C'mon, lift your hips," his digits tugging at the elastic waistband trolling your hips.

You bring a finger to sit against your lips, biting down on that digit as you follow his words.

The rough edges of your panties sting your legs as Toji pulls the gossamer cloth from its post at your hips and off onto the floor.

He drops to his knees, his hands cupping the supple underside of your thighs. Toji doesn't give you the chance to retaliate or rebel, pushing your legs to swell against your chest.

"Be nice and hold your legs back fr' me, won't you? Need both my hands for this."

A hum serves as your response as you replace Toji's brash embrace around your legs with your own, mustering up all your strength to fulfill his wish.

And Toji was right, he did need both his hands—setting a hand to your hip to keep you at bay and a hand draped over the sticky, plush mounds of your cunt. He's splitting the dripping mess of your lips apart, just to gawk at what's become of you.

He bit back any words that came to mind, they were all just going to come out as mindless drivel anyway. He didn't know where to start, especially when your pussy's already blooming beneath his very eye.

It's so lewd the way he catches everything; the sticky wispy threads of glass barely keeping your lips nuzzled together, how your slit gasps for attention, eager to be filled all over again, and how your clit erupts into anxious twitches over desperate anticipation.

He's itching to feel you, that's the reason his digits ghost along the plushy bead, trailing his touch to sink past your silky folds.

But there's something missing from this equation...

"Y/N?" he breaks out lowly.

"Yeah?"

"Can't see you, mama. Spread those legs open too, 'kay?" he whispered as he laid his cheek against your thigh.

"Mmhm, Toji, you tease me too much." That still didn't stop you from parting away your trembling thighs off your chest, and onto the dipping stress of the bed.

Toji greets you with a ruined smile, "See, that's so much better. Plus...I love an audience."

The words ready to slip off your tongue opted for a breathless moan the second Toji delves into you, his warm breath covering you. He starts off so considerate with you, peppering kisses from the flushed bud down to your gummy slit. His kiss is challenged by the introduction of his tongue, languidly flushing out your folds as your slick drenches his senses.

Toji's working his lolling tongue into steady strides, coiling at the burning nerves to catch every drop of essence dripping from you. His nose knowingly bumps at your clit through all this, earning a slew of scattered moans to chime from your lungs and into the air.

"O-Oh! Mmm fuck, Toji! Feels 's good!

"Aww, I know it is, Princess, 'm hearing you sing my name after all."

But what Toji's after is more–more of that pretty voice of yours crying out his name, more your sweet flooding his mouth, and more of those cute twitches drumming against his lips. So when he's finally ready to pay your clit well-deserved attention, Toji's head falls into a tilt to close any possible gap. He's serious about no distractions, he wants every drop of you he can get.

That's why he's pecking at the raw bulb, teasing your clit into a false sense of security. He's so sweet with it, just barely pushing back with his kiss. He lets the pearl press up against his plush lips for a change, just teasing the hungry confines behind his supple curves. But it's that final tender display is when Toji's trap falls into place, enveloping the perked bud behind the lush seal of his lips.

He wastes no time to draw your clit into the pulsing stream, Toji sucking at the bundle of nerves. He's not too hard, but he's not playing coy either. Rather, he's eager enough to invoke your clit into a silky swell, with methods that suit only his whims.

He's so messy with it too, allowing spools of spit to drip from the corners of his mouth. Squelches ring from the filthy scene—but he makes them even louder just for your ears to hear by ending each reeling tide with a 'pop' of lips. He could stop to clean himself up, but what was the point? Laving your clit in the lewd cocktail of his spit and your sweet honey made it all worthwhile.

"T-Tojiii," you draw out, " I-I'm...'m fucking gonna cum, pleeeease don't stop!"

A frigid heat washes over your body, the pit in your tummy stirring with an addictive pull. There's a weight befalling your entire body, the building high within your core pinning you to the bed. If only he knew just how close you were, maybe he'd take some pity and help you out more–but you knew that was out of the question.

But with desperation taunting your blank mind, you only had one solution to rely on.

Even though Toji's hand clings to your hips, he doesn't stop you from all movement. And with how his tongue laps at your clit in between his taunting treatment, it was the perfect chance to ease your hips into a messy cadence, your hips driving your pussy to ride against Toji's tongue.

Your pussy paints a salacious story all over Toji's face. Your slick glosses over his lips, a sloppy one too, just how he's grown to like it coming from you. Your essence paints his lips, chin, and even the tip of his nose alike in your glossy veil.

It's almost like Toji's receiving a kiss back when your hips start to rock against him. It's disgusting but his eyes are trained to capture every detail. The stutter in your rhythm whenever you nudge against too hard, or those trembling strands of your slick that drips from the tip of his nose whenever your hips drawback too far.

"T-To-ojjjiii, 'm g-gonna cum!"

Every one of your moans hits Toji hard, that dominating nature he wears only ebbs the longer he's nuzzled between your thighs. He can't think straight, not with the throbbing pangs trapped behind his pants.

He isn't one to chase after his own urges during a time like this, but you simply have that effect on him. He has to do something, or else he'd make such a pitiful mess of himself.

He's placing a hand right on your tummy, using just enough force to pin you down while his other hand races to fidget with the buckle of his jeans. It's a hard but successful struggle when he yanks the metal clasp off his hips, allowing him to unbutton his pants.

His hand ravages across every inch of his cock, his fist strumming from the base to the weeping tip. He gives the head just a good enough squeeze to ground him, but it's a fleeting dream when his lips catch your clit in his lips once more.

A merciful whimper croaks from behind Toji's lips, he hopes you'll forgive him but if he doesn't do something more than just squeeze at himself, he'll burst sooner than planned.

And you, well you have no idea of the struggle you've put on him, and Toji knows this. He can see it on your face—donning that cute look he's fond of. You finally found relief and he was selfishly chasing it right beside you.

That building guilt isn't much of a hindrance though, and it certainly doesn't stop Toji's thumb from swiping along the heavy underside of his cock, bringing the flustered nerves lining his fat girth to a brimming stir.

"Go ahead, baby. 'm right here to clean up your mess," he whimpers, sending his hips to buck up into his sheathed fist.

Toji uses your undoing as a distraction from his own as his lips bear one last stride of your hips. You fall back onto the bed, your legs slamming shut from hungered efforts.

Toji grins to himself as he pulls away from you, leaving just one final kiss to skim over your quivering clit. He picks himself from the floor, standing over you with a softened stare.

Your arms drape over your face, covering your eyes behind the sleeves of your robe as you struggle to grapple with steady breaths. You look so peaceful coming down. Toji really doesn't wanna disturb you, but the pangs wrecking his cock tells him otherwise.

"Hey, hey, can't pass out on me yet. Still got more for you, Angel," he calls out, resting his hand over your heaving belly.

"O-Oh, right. Almost forgot 'bout that," you chuckle, sighing as you sit up to face Toji.

And you really did want to, but something else grabbed your attention quicker than he did.

A stretching wet spot on his pants, bounding your hand to mend his troubles.

You crawled onto your knees towards Toji, closing the gap between you both. Your hand moves on its own, gravitating to the opened clasp of his pants. With his briefs in tow, you tug the remaining clothes down his legs with Toji slipping out of the restricting confines at last. His hands fold behind his back, his sign of giving you free-range over him.

"Whatcha gonna do with it," Toji muses as he casts a heavy stare over you.

Before you could even think to reply, your eyes swarm over Toji's cock, hinging on its upright curve. There's a happy trail that leads right down to the base, the thick gathering of hairs neatly trimmed.

He's big, from each inch he carries to the fat bulgy girth, even his twitching red tip's thick enough to flood in your mouth with ease. Even now, the veins melding into your twitch, coaxing rivulets of white to bud from his slit. With nowhere else to go, each drop runs along his underside, curling at the heavy swell of his ball and landing on the bed's blanket.

"You're making a mess on my bed, Toji."

"Oh..'m s-sorry, Miss. Can't help myself, y'know? Your hands are so soft and I..."

Your finger swipes at the spilled tears, drifting that sullied finger to your lips. You peer up at him, just for his deprived sights watching your every move. He's biting down on his bottom lip as he observes, failing at holding back those whimpers leaking from his throat.

"I'll clean up...just this once," you purr, pressing the pad of your digit to your tongue. The rich swirl of salt coats your mouth and numbs your senses. The drops of precum melt nicely along your tongue, down to the last drop as you wash away his presence with a loud gulp.

"Oh f-fuck...'m so sorry. Promise it won't happen agai–"

The last word didn't get the chance to finish off Toji's mind before a striking tremor jolts through his cock. A river of white gushes from out his tip and onto the bed, sinking through the plush material. His poor cock's weeping for that attention, just a taste would satisfy that burning—a taste that you also found yourself starved of.

You roll your eyes at Toji's pathetically faltered apology, setting your lustful eye back down onto the mess of his cock. White's a good color on him, especially when it bled from his poor, dribbling cock.

Your digits grip the base of Toji's cock, lazily pulling into a loose fist as you strum along his tanned length. That tip of his is just begging for attention, and you're more than willing to serve it. You inch your lips closer to the blushing tip, but the sudden hand Toji places under your chin force your sights up at him and only him.

"Whatcha doin' there?"

"I was gonna–"

"Ah ah, can't let my pretty girl do such a dirty job. Just ignore it, I'm gonna cum soon anyways."

You give Toji a stifled nod, your grip over his shaft fading away. For your cooperation, Toji blows you a kiss before reaching down for his pants, searching around in his pockets.

He stands over you once again, this time with a gold foil between his fingers.

"Here," he says, offering you the packaged condom. "Help me out 'nd put it on for me, yeah?"

"Just the one?" You enquire, ripping apart the small foil square.

You press the rim of the condom to the head of Toji's cock, the slickened sheet of plastic rolling down his length. Yet the rolling momentum ends just shy of his base, the condom coming to a staggering halt.

"Toji, it doesn't fit," you sigh as you pay him a stern glare.

He simply cups your cheek, "No, it does. I'm just a little too hard for the condom to handle right now—but it's not gonna break!" he's swift to assure you as he tugs at the stressed slicked latex.

"Alright whatever–"

It doesn't take long for Toji to hover over you, his arms caging you into his world. His brash entrance halts your sentence, but a new conversation takes place when your eyes fall in line with his.

Toji flickers over you, his eyes tracing along every curve to be found on your body. You're perfect, made just for him. His hand crowds along your waist, massaging the supple skin that melts into his grip.

"I don't know why you hid your body under that robe, you're perfect."

"So you wanted me to answer the door naked?" You hinted, lacing your arms about the nape of Toji's neck.

"Well if you did, things would've been a lot different, but let's take this off."

Toji hums to himself as he slowly drags the satin sleeves of your robe off your arms. He quickly bundles the silky fabric into a ball, tossing it out of mind and into the bedroom's surrounding abyss.

He's drunk off some carnal instinct as he settles onto the bed, his arms caging you into his world.

This time, he's the one with the feverish kiss, sending his tongue to grace the caverns of your mouth.

Your legs tether around Toji's hips, pitting his body flush against your own. The thick hull of his chest smothers against your own, but your hands race to outline his dewed skin.

His every breath, the drum of his heart, and the rippling twitch of muscles thaw in your palm. You've seen it since the night started, but now you've become more keen to study Toji's body, tracing over his smooth skin adorned with scars.

"How'd you get these?" the question rolling off your tongue as you peer up to him.

"I'll tell you one day, but for now, just focus on me," he chuckles, stealing a kiss from your pouty lips. Sure, it's not the answer he knows you're looking for, but you're the one staring at him with those pretty doe eyes, rubbing at his chest tenderly.

So it's no shock that this time he's the one with the feverish kiss, sending his tongue to grace the caverns of your mouth. He has a job to see through to the end, but for some strange reason, Toji can't find the energy to part from your lips.

He's adamant on keeping you under him too, at least for as long as the night wills. His arms bracket beside your head as he rests some of his weight over you, his body settling against your own. He slides his digits to your thigh, shifting your weakened legs to lace around his hips.

"Mmph, Toji," you moan as your arms coil along the broad of his shoulders. The weight of his cock sits homely between the puffy lips of your cunt, the weight mindlessly coaxing your hips to rock against him for some friction.

Toji's too ready to reciprocate, easing himself to accompany your lust-ridden rhythm. Your pussy paints him in the same wet kisses he held over you, sending the spry head of his cock into a sputtering frenzy.

"Mmhm–fuck..c-can't wait anymore," Toji seethes as he snakes a hand between your bodies.

"Relax for me, 'm gonna go nice and slow," he murmurs, drawing lazy circles with his tip as he aligns himself with your entrance.

It's the crown of his cock that ruins you, the thick mushroom tip nuzzling to fill your hole. Toji's ever so kind for your sake, using the gentle pace to coax your walls to his girth. Your pussy's even got the nerve to tease him, singing those cute little wet hymns to welcome him.

An outpouring sob breaks Toji from your kiss, his head dropping beside the pulse of your neck.

"Oh f-fuuh—s-so tight, Princess! 'Nd you're squeezin' me like that, fuuuck, Y/N!"

He's hesitant to press on, relying on sheepish bucks to drive his cock deeper inside of you. But Toji's so slow that you can't help but aid him, tilting your hips to ease his descent.

The fat of his cock finds a way to fill your cunt to the hilt, Toji grinding his hips against your own. All you can do is rely on him to ground your fleeting sense of self, your nails decorating his arms in crimson crescents.

"Ooooh! Mmm, Tojii, c-can't! 's too much!"

"'Shhh, 's okay, I got you," he slurs as he lifts his head from the crook of your neck. His hazy eyes find yours, paired with a boyish grin. His hand comes to lay along your temple, reaching to pat at the top of your head

" 'n-nd you wanna cum again, right? 'M gonna do that too, j-jus' lemme fuck you."

"O...okay," you nod as the bubbly string of tears begins to stream down your puffy cheeks.

Toji babies you with kisses, distracting you from the slow reel his hips haul. But he's taking away that infectious stretch that sedated your walls just for the moment, carefully driving himself to the hilt again. You gradually let him have his way, this time his cock sitting between your walls with grace.

"Think you're ready to take it?" he checks, planting a kiss at the corner of your quivering jaw.

"Y-Yeah, I can take it."

You said the words he needed to hear, Toji winding back this gracious for the last time tonight. You did say you were ready to take it—and that's exactly what fuels Toji's reckless symphony.

The barreling strength of Toji's hips snaps against your own, painting bruises you'll have to nurse when the time comes. It's all dizzying—the heat fanning across your inflamed skin the building pressure in your tummy, all of it sends your mind to places beyond reach.

He's not trying to do it, but every inch he bullies your pussy takes leaves your eyes to roll back into your head. He's just so big, but with each stride of his hips, you're taking him so much better, so much deeper than the last.

And Toji knows how well he's stuffing you too–why else would his ears be graced by the precious driveling babbles of your numbed mind? He knows, he knows—but do you know how much better you're fucking him back?

Not with your hips, but the fluttering grip you keep him under is almost too much. He's already flooding the strained condom with weeping tears of precum, but he can't envision the moment when he'd be swept into his nirvana.

And that's a scary fact he has to swallow.

"Mmhph, o-ooh...I-I can't...I can't do it!" his voice grunts, his hips fumbling to a shaky stop. Chills crackle all over his body, zapping away at his welled fervor. He fills your ear with nothing but hot pants— as if he's desperate to catch his breath.

"T-Toji, you okay?" You croak, raking your digits through his hair.

He doesn't respond.

"To–"

Instead of giving you an answer, Toji replies with another grueling drop of his hips.

And then another.

His hips swiftly fall back into the fiendish trance he donned earlier, draining your walls dry of resentment. He's drunk off you–your heat, the velvet bliss of your snug walls, the way your pussy clutches around him when he's working at your sweet spot.

All the things he couldn't afford to fall prey to.

"Y're gonna make me cum first. C-Can't have that," he whines in your ear as he reels back to rest on his haunches. He's keeping busy with sending the mind-breaking girth of his cock to replenish your aching walls. He clips one hand to your waist, the other confronting the sweaty locks of hair that obstruct his front-row seat of your undoing.

The pit of arousal rallies deep in your belly, the explosive burst being teased with each wet kiss Toji plants at your core. Your hand rushes to grasp at the thick of his arms, your nails digging into the flesh. It's not enough to subdue that raging flame flickering about your walls, not when Toji laid claim to your sweet spot the way he did.

"T-T-Toji, 'y're gonna—I'm..." you trail off as your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

"Huh? Can't hear you. Try again, Mama 'm here waiting," Toji taunts with a spiteful grin.

"I'm cu–mmmph-!"

A white, hot streak breaks over you, claiming your body as its victim. Your eyes screw shut and suddenly everything is washed as white. You can't think, can't spell, you can't do anything but revel in the arch-inducing high striking over you.

It's an overwhelming wash that rings chills down your spine. Everything within you stalled—only for a sob to spill from your lolling tongue. As you come down, all you can form is broken breaths, your lungs chasing after the sex-stained air.

Toji wants to make a slick comment about how cute you look with that fucked out face, but how can he when he's finally spilling thick ribbons of white to flush the condom in his salacious shade. It's taking so much out of him, so much that he's hunched over you, burying his lips against your skin to conceal the shameful moan seeping from his lips.

When he's finally drained of all that pent-up stress, his hazy eyes weigh heavy with sleep. He steals a glance down at you, just to see how you've curled up on your side without him.

Kissing his teeth, Toji swiftly pulls himself from your velvety walls, yanking the suffering choke of the condom from his length.

Just as he thought—bleached white, but not a tear in sight.

He ties a knot into the condom before reaching behind him to tuck the used covered back inside the foil.

"Toji?" your voice cracks softly.

"Hm?" He laments as he collapses beside you, draping his arm along your hip.

"Can you cook?"

"Huh?! I mean yeah, but why does—"

"Good, I'm expecting breakfast in the morning."

TAGS: @pixelsanji @sleepy3 @slaughterakira @woahhajime @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @jjjangsta @10-jiku @missyasma @a3trogirl @chaoticevilbakugo @luvrdrop @yourmommy52726 @widepipepaladiknight @tojishugetiddies @nekoriots @ladyackermann @tonaken @holychocopie @dukina @kensgff @humantrashcan2000 @batmanslittlelover @23victoria @sisnot @insideboburnham @shima707 @patchi-chi @brokenheartshards @akiko0-0 @mx-luvzz @whore02 @lilystarknette @hannas16 @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @your-favorite-god @missakward123 @ssetsuka @alwaysfreakingout @httpstoyosi

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honeyedmiller · 2 months

Text

Angel

joel miller x f!reader drabble

warnings: this drabble has dark themes!! this is purely smut and it contains a knife kink and daddy kink. please heed these warnings! if you do not wish to consume this content, please do NOT read under the cut. smut contains unprotected piv, dirty talk, empty threat of using the knife!!!!! dark joel (? just in case) this relationship between joel and reader is consensual and joel was asked by reader to do this with reader. 18+, minors do not interact.

wc: 641

Joel was astonished when you’d first told him.

He was unsure. Hesitant. And oddly enough, the thought of you enjoying doing that with him turned him on, blinding him with a carnal desire that he knew was still deep inside of him.

He’d sworn up and down to himself that you’d softened him up, made him a better man after he’d met you one night at the Tipsy Bison. One smile from you—a smile that could end fucking wars—and it was over for him. You had him wrapped around your finger from that moment on.

So, when he’d asked you if there was anything in bed you wanted to give a try, something you two had never done before—he was completely taken aback at the proposal you offered: him holding a knife up to your throat as he fucked you relentlessly from behind.

And that’s how you two ended up here, with his switchblade pressed to your throat as your knees dug painfully into the mattress, him pistoning into you from behind.

Joel got a million dollar view of your ass and your arched back, his other hand engulfing your wrists as he pressed them against your tailbone. It was no use for you to struggle, even if your pleas were getting louder.

You and Joel had a safe word, and he’d yet to hear you say it, so he kept going.

“Daddy, please—”

“Wan’ me to fuckin’ press this blade into your throat baby? Hush up now n’ take what daddy gives ya.”

Your cunt gushes at his words, his empty threat sending you into a spiral of arousal. You couldn’t even think straight at this point, and Joel knew it. He also knew him being a little mean to you turned you on even more.

“Look at ya, getting fucked dumb on my cock. Can feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ me. Fuck, baby—god damnit. Gonna cum if you don’ stop squeezin’ me like that.”

You were numbly incoherent at this point, nothing but a strangled whine bubbling from your throat as your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. The blade was dangerously close to digging into your skin, but a sick, twisted fucking part of you loved the thrill of it.

Joel’s thrusts were becoming sloppy and you knew he was close. He took the blade away from your throat and gripped your hips, flipping you around so his broad body covered yours.

He was pulsing inside of you and the wild desire in your eyes nearly sent him over the edge. A calloused hand dragged up your body and groped your breast, tweaking your nipple between his forefinger and thumb before he trailed his hand up to your jaw to open it. He pressed the blade of his knife onto your tongue as he fucked into you at such a rapid pace, you fucking swore the bed would break.

“Such a good girl. My angel. So fuckin’ pretty n’ good for daddy, baby. Come with me.”

And he didn’t have to say it twice. His wish was your command, and you cried out as you pulsed around him, gushing all over the base of his cock. He grunted as he collapsed and dropped his head onto your shoulder, pulling out just in time before he came all over your stomach.

You swiped a finger over his hot spend, plopping your finger into your mouth as you looked into his eyes and sucked. You moaned at the salty taste, eyes closing in pure ecstasy.

“Christ, baby. Y’don’t know what you do t’me.” He flops down onto his side and tosses his switchblade onto his nightstand, pulling you into him.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you traced patterns onto his warm chest, the feeling of his erratic heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

“I have a pretty good idea.”

#don’t look at me #omg #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #dark!joel miller #knife kink drabble #PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS #joel miller tlou #jackson!joel #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic

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sleepsunawareof · 6 months

Text

Well like many, the Loki S2 finale has me still reeling and I have had this little drabble on my brain and had to get it out. I am not really a writer, I've not written a fic since I was a teenager probably lol so be easy on me but alas, I hope this is enjoyed by those who also just couldn't bear the thought of Loki being alone at the end of time forever.

Description: Loki uses his time slipping abilities to talk to you one last time before making the decision he knows he has to in order to save those he loves. But, you aren't so willing to let him condemn himself to an eternity alone, or yourself to a lifetime without him.

Word Count: 1367

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVENT SEEN LOKI S2 EP6!! Angst, sadness, happy ending mostly

••••••••••••••

"How are you doing this?", you asked as you watched strands of space and time float around you and Loki throughout A.D Doug's workshop.

"We're outside of time. Darling, I had to see you. I had to speak to you." Loki said, a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. "The Loom, it was a failsafe all along. And no amount of scaling can account for infinite timelines. I thought we had it, I really did", he explained.

"Damnit, we should have known it would be...", you lamented.

"I spent centuries trying to figure it out, and it was all for nothing."

"Centuries?" you questioned.

"It's hard to explain" he responded. "Darling, there are only two options. Go back and kill Sylvie before she kills He Who Remains and allow the Sacred Timeline to continue--"

You cut him off. "You can't Loki! The Sacred Timeline is full of misery, injustice, and sadness - what the TVA stood for under He Who Remains was all wrong! We can't go back to that. And you know you could never kill Sylvie...not after everything we have all been through together."

"I know...", he said, a sad knowing in his voice and his eyes. "But there is one other way."

"And what's that?"

"Me".

"What? You? I don't understand Loki..." you said cautiously.

"The finite power of a machine can never handle the infinite timelines of a multiverse, but the infinite power of a God can", he said as he watched your face intently for any hint of reaction.

It took a moment as you stared at him, blinking. "Do you mean..." you questioned, as the realization of what he was saying started to set in.

"Yes, my love. Believe me, if there was any other way, I swear I would take it. But there isn't. I know what kind of God I need to be, for you, for all of us. It's the only way."

"Loki, if this is what you have to do, then please, take me with you at least!" you implored.

"My darling y/n, you know I can not do that. I must bear this burden alone, and you must go live your life on the timeline, the one you deserve to have. I could never condemn you to an eternity of solitude at the End of Time", he said sorrowfully.

"But you'll condemn me to a life of solitude on Earth? Loki, I can't live without you. There's no life for me down there if it's not with you! Please, as long as our friends are happy, and I'm with you, that's all I'll need. Please let me go with you!". The last part came out as a sob as your emotions got the best of you. You couldn't believe what he was talking about doing, the sacrifice he planned to make for the ones he loved.

"When I go back there, to that moment in time, you won't remember any of this. You won't know you said you wanted to go with me," he reminded you.

"Loki, every version of me across space and time would go with you. Even into the abyss, if that's where you have to go. I will follow you, I know I will!" you fully sobbed out as you threw your arms around him. The thought of him leaving you was killing you.

"They'll stop you if you try to follow me, you know that" he said, speaking of your friends back at the TVA.

"Then tell them not to Loki! Please, I'm begging. My place is beside you, always and forever, no matter where that place is."

And then Loki was gone and everything turned to spaghetti.

••••••••••••••

Loki slipped effortlessly back to just the right moment in the Loom control room, having been here in this moment over and over for centuries. This time though, it was different. This time, it was the last time. Loki looked over at you and his friends with a sad and knowing smile on his face. And then with one last look, he turned and ran down the stairs towards the blast doors. He knew he could keep you from following, lock the doors behind him with impenetrable magic. But he also knew that in your heart, you would never want to be without him. You would resent him forever if he left you on Earth alone.

You, Sylvie, and Mobius ran down the stairs after him immediately, but he was already through the airlock doors. The three of you watched Loki open the blast doors with his magic and start to step outside, absent of any protective suit. As you reached out to open the airlock door and go after him, Mobius pulled you back.

"Mobius, I have to go! I have to get to him!!!" you screamed.

"You can't! The temporal radiation will kill you if you open that door and go out there, you know that!"

"But it's going to kill HIM!" you cried out as you watched Loki walk out onto the walkway.

But something amazing started to happen. As the temporal energy shredded his TVA clothes away with every passing second, something else began to take it's place. Flowing dark green linen draped his form, traditional and humble shoes appeared on his feet, and a horned crown adorned his head. He looked absolutely Godlike and regal. As Loki walked closer to the Loom - this imperfect piece of machinery that took so much from so many - he lifted his hands, called upon his magic, and destroyed it in a flash of bright green and white light.

Then, there was darkness. Loki wasn't done, though. He reached out to grab a strand of time and suddenly it glowed back to life, his beautiful green magic allowing it to thrive. He grabbed another, and another. You, Mobius, and Sylvie stood silently in the airlock, watching as Loki brought the timelines back to life, one by one, gathering them in his hands. Above him, a chasm opened in the sky, revealing the End of Time. Loki looked back one last time at the 3 of you back in the airlock. He had no idea if you would really come after him like you said - but he wanted to see your face one last time if it was truly to be the last. Your eyes locked, and you knew now that the temporal energy was gone, there was no threat if you left the airlock.

"I have to go with him." you said to Mobius and Sylvie. "His worst fear is to be alone, and he is going to condemn himself to a lifetime of loneliness to save us all!" you said as you opened the door.

"Y/n, please! Stop! You don't know what you're giving yourself to." This time, it was Sylvie who pulled you back, holding your arm so you couldn't run down the walkway.

"Yes, I do. I'm giving myself to love. I'm giving myself to free will, to choice, to hope." you said.

"Sylvie, let her go," Loki called out. "It's going to be okay." he assured.

Sylvie let go of you hesitantly, and you started your walk out to Loki. When you reached him, he could not take your hand, but you took his arm. Together, you began to ascend the invisible stairs to the End of Time as he held the reanimated timelines in his hands. As you both crossed the threshold of the chasm to the End of Time, He Who Remains' throne and the ruins of his citadel came into view. Loki walked forward to the throne, the one he never wanted but was always destined to have. The timelines took on the beautiful form of a tree - Yggdrasil, the tree of life - the tree of the multiverse that Loki would tend to for eternity.

"This is where I'll have to stay forever, darling. I can never leave, never move. Tending to the timelines is my glorious purpose, my eternal burden. Are you truly willing to stay here with me?" he inquired.

"Yes, my love", you answered without hesitation.

"For all time?" He asked.

"Always".

#loki x reader #tva!loki x reader #loki x you #loki #marvel #mcu #god!loki x reader #drabble #loki drabble #loki imagine #loki season 2 #loki s2 rewrite #not canon #loki series #mcu loki

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weskin-time · 1 year

Note

I don’t t go here but how about sharing body heat with John price headcanons? Like if it’s cold outside and the both of you are stranded. Alone. 👀 (feel free to ignore just giving ideas haha)

i’m sorry this took. months. i love when i write and hit the save button only for it to not save. >:/ BUT I HOPE I DID YOUR ASK JUSTICE!

Captain John Price x GN!Reader

not beta read

Cold air curled into your lungs and made its home on your skin, burning the back of your throat and searing your flesh as if it was hot out, but it was freezing.

There was no snow, just dry cold air that made your sinus’s cry out in pain, no moisture in the air just a winter haze in a forest. Frozen dew drops clung to blades of grass, to the leaves shed on the forest floor like blankets, the dwindling light of the day promised an even colder night.

The twilight would have been peaceful if it had been a voluntary camping trip, if you weren’t stuck with your captain in the middle of the woods out in bumfuck-nowhere Russia.

It should have been easy, should have been an easy drive to a small town where the contact had been, but it was an ambush, a trap set up by Makarov to get you lot off his ass. Your small team was outnumbered and forced to retreat, but an explosion caused Price and you to be separated from Gaz and the rest of the small amount of men. A mine caught the captain and you off guard, causing the Humvee you were in to wreck, separating you from everyone, somehow Makarov’s men didn’t see you two slip into the woods that bordered the town.

“Damnit. You two are going to have to sit tight for the night.” Laswell spoke over the coms.

Good thing the army backpack your we’re wearing had supplies inside it, standard military issued foldable tent, a shitty sleeping bag, and then some. Price seemed to have lost his bag (or didn’t even bring it) in the explosion, meaning there was only one tent and sleeping bag to share between you two. Fun.

You barley paid any attention to the conversation going on behind you as you began to set up the tent, unzipping it from its little bag and trying to figure out how to set it up. It kind of reminded you like those folding frisbees you sometimes get at fairs or small events.

“Laswell-“ Price began to argue but was cut off.

“John it’s too hot right now to rescue the two of you, Makarovs men are still in the town, Im not going to argue with you. I’m sending a team your way before dawn tomorrow, you’ll be out of there in no time.” Her tone was final.

“Fuckin hell.”

The kept talking as you focused on the tent, tuning them out as you fed some tubes into the fabric of the green camo. Your nose felt numb, your fingers moved with a slowness of paralyzed flesh, the cold in the air seeped into your being freezing your blood. Your heavy fingers fumbled over the rough fabric as you sniffed your now running nose.

By the time Price was done complaining you had gotten the tent up. It was large enough for about 2 people, and thankfully the backpack you carried had a thin scratchy blanket to go along with it. Looks like you wouldn’t be camping warmly tonight.

“The tents up captain.” you called over your shoulder to where the man was just a few moments ago, jaw chattering slightly.

“Alright. Fuckin hell.” the last part was muttered under his breath.

———————————

It had been an hour since you set up the tent.

Twilight had come to cloak the forest in darkness, the birds who were chirping and singing earlier had went to bed, it was too cold in the night air for them.

The temperature had to have dropped a few more degrees by sundown because your toes ached in the combat boots you wore, you could barely feel them let alone move them in the confines of the shoes. Your fingers felt like rocks, slow to move and what could best describe it as ‘clunky’.

It’s weird how the cold burns. Your skin felt like it was on fire minus the heat, your thighs didn’t help warm up your hands as you pressed your legs harder around your fingers to provide any warmth at all, instead it just make your skin ache. What’s worse is you couldn’t make a fire.

Makarov’s men were still in the area Price had confirmed, while y’all were deeper in the woods to where it would take them a while to find you even if they tried to look in the forest, it would still be too risky to attract them from the smoke of a fire, and everything was too cold and frozen to have a smokeless fire, you needed dry wood with no bark for that.

You and your captain had huddled up in the tent for the night. Price was currently on watch, which left you alone in the tent to rest.

But it was too cold to sleep. It was too cold to even think. You sat in the fetal position with your arms around your thighs instead of your knees, pressing your fingers into the crevasse of your thighs to provide some warmth, but none coming to you. A blanket from the sleeping bag was wrapped around you, it was too cold to even lay flat in the sleeping bag, you had to huddle to stay somewhat warm, and even then you felt the buzzing, burning, numb feeling of the cold. You were able to handle torture if needed, but this? this was hell. The blanket did nothing.

“Shift change.” He announced before unzipping the flap and sitting fully in the tent ready to switch positions with you but he stopped when he saw your shivering state.

Your head was on your knees and you honestly couldn’t tell if you were shivering worse than he was. Your skin looked dull from what he could see and that instantly worried him.

He shifted over to you on his knees, shutting the tent flap behind him, “You alright?”

You weakly looked up at him only to be met with his sudden expression of shock and worry all mixed into one. You could barely see in the moonlight but you’d be able to sniff out the expression sense you haven’t seen him ever express it before.

Your lips were turning blue.

“Fuckin hell,” he groaned out a string of curses as he put down his gun and took off his vest and placed it with yours in the corner of the tent. You could barely understand what he was muttering, something about muppets? Fuck if you knew.

“Imma move you, right?” He asked full knowing he was going to do it regardless if you said yes or no, so you have a weak grunt in approval.

You didn’t want to move, moving meant you’d loose all the warmth you’ve built up be it not much. John sat down close to you and took the blanket off you, which you barely even noticed, and wrapped his large warm hands around your midsection and hooked his other under your knees, lifting you up to sit in between his legs. You were facing sideways against him with your shoes under his thigh as both of his legs wrapped around your frame. He pushed your head to rest against his chest and instantly your hands found their place resting against his ribs.

His arms wrapped around you with the blanket, draping it around the two of you as he held you against him.

If you were in your right mind you would protest against your captains actions, but survival was more important in this moment. Plus you honestly didn’t mind being this close to him, feeling his breath on the top of your head as he huddled into you, his strong heartbeat hammering in your ears in a calming manner, and slowly the warmth of the two of you beginning to grow under the trap of the blanket, making your skin feel as if it was thawing. You felt safe in his arms like this.

“That better?” Price asked resting his head on your own.

A whine of ‘mmhmm’ escaped your throat at the question.

“Get some rest ey? Gaz’ll be here by dawn.” Reassuring words from your captain almost put a spell on you as you instantly felt your eyelids grow heavy. You absentmindedly snuggled closer into his chest and shifted your weight to rest fully against him. A hum of contentment released like a balloons air escaping. You really should be embarrassed a little about this situation but you were too cold and tired to care, you were just glad you could feel your fingers again.

Right at the cusp of sleep where your brain was swimming in the ideas of a dream a soft pressure surrounded by what felt like fuzzy grass tickled your forehead.

John had given you a kiss on the head, “Sleep love.”

You’d worry about everything later in the morning when you’re rescued and after you’ve been seen by a doctor.

#tezi post #captain price #captain johnathan price #captain price x reader #cod #call of duty #mw2 #call of duty modern warefare #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #mw2 x reader #mw x reader #captain john price x you #cod x y/n #call of duty x y/n

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cryptidcorners · 7 months

Note

Heya! I have another request for you (but take your time, I know you’re busy and I just got an idea—forgive me) but what if we had a cute imagine of Mike killing a spider for Abby and/or his girlfriend? Like, a big one? And then we got the comedic bits of Mike muttering under his breath, “I’ve faced ghost children, giant killer robots, and a serial killer…yet this spider is the most difficult to catch…”

Mike Schmidt x F!Reader: Spider Chaos

Description: Mike tries to catch a spider and fails, despite everything he went through while working as a security guard. Yet, he's still fixed on getting it for you and Abby.

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt (+ Abby!)

Tags: Girlfriend!Reader, Fluff, Descriptions of Spider, Found Family, Some Comedic Bits, FNaF Movie Spoilers , Established Relationship, Mike being Ridiculous, Just Cute Stuff!

No Warnings . Unless you're sensitive to stuff with spiders . Stay Safe !

Read my INTRO before interacting, thanks!

"Ah, God! It jumps!" Mike scrambled backwards with a yelp, waving a thick pillow around as he narrowly escaped the blind spider's path. "Can't get it,"

You had been holding a broom from the sidelines, holding on your infectious laughter as Abby circled around. The whole tizzy was ridiculous, especially since Mike was so serious about catching a harmless bug.

"Hit it, Mike!" Abby encouraged, which fished a chuckle out of you. "Yeah, come on. You can hit it."

"How come you get the broom?" Mike's brow arched playfully.

"We need protection." You shook the handle lightly with a goofy smile. Before you could add another quip, the speck was inching on the wall. You stammered, "Mike, the wall. The wall!"

Mike hit the wall in a flash. It looked much more impressive from his view, which was why he held a kiddish smile on his face. Yet, he gingerly peeled off the pillow in search of its body. "I think I got it,"

"Imagine if it gave birth when you hit it. Tons of baby spiders," you wiggled your fingers near Abby in mock of the flattened spider, making her giggle. She exclaimed in disgust with a massive smile, "Ew!"

"Come on, don't make me think of that, babe." Briefly, his eyes wandered towards the wall. "God, I can't believe it took so long to catch. I mean, I've literally faced ghosts, killer robots and a filthy guy in a rabbit costume. Can't believe I couldn't get a spider," he groaned.

You walked over to him and kissed Mike's face. "Whatever, I'm proud of you." His face reddened immediately and he chuckled, "Thank you."

"Mike, I found two more!" Abby cried out, "And I think it's a girl spider."

"God Damnit."

#💌 request!#scribblesandsherlock #💤 mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #fnaf #mike schmidt fluff #writing #writers on tumblr

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bloatedandalone04 · 4 months

Text

In The Way I Need You | Part 6

Series Masterlist

➪in which clay messes things up after he regretfully lies to his mother about his intentions with you, and you decide to start looking for another job.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.9k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

In the twenty seven years he’s known his mother, Clay had never seen her this angry.

Well, except for the time Sam walked out, but this was a close second behind that.

Lilith Beresford, in all her glory, stood in front of the couch, home a mere day and a half earlier than she said she’d be. She towered over the two of you, and Clay quickly discovered that you hadn’t woken up yet when he glanced down and saw you still peacefully sleeping against his side.

Clay couldn’t even have a second to take in how cute you looked all cuddled up with him before he was sitting up a bit. “Mother,” he greeted in a surprised tone, making her raise her brow. “You’re home early.”

“I am,” she said before reaching down and tapping your shoulder.

You stir a bit and open your eyes, instantly looking up at Clay with a tired smile. Then you looked over and, too, noticed his mom. “Mrs. Beresford,” you sit up immediately and put a cushion of space between you and Clay. “I didn’t know you were coming home today.”

His mother smiled down at you, and Clay knew that smile like the back of his hand. It was her pissed off smile. “I got everything I needed out of my trip,” she replied. “Would you mind giving me and my son a minute alone?”

You scratch at your jaw and look over at Clay with an uneasy expression. “Of course not,” you answer and stand up. “I’ll go wake Joey up and get him ready for school.”

“No need,” she stopped you before you could leave the room. “I’ll be home all day, so we won’t need your services.”

She was being so cold to you and Clay wanted to say something but had no idea where to start. His heart ached a bit when you gave him a look that practically begged him for help, but he stayed silent. “Okay,” you murmur, giving her a forced smile. “I’ll just go pack then.”

“Okay,” his mother said before she turned back to face him.

“Mom-” he tried but she held up her hand and waited until you were out of the room and up the stairs before she dropped her act.

“Clayton, have you lost your mind?” She asked loudly, clearly not caring much about the fact that you could still probably hear her. “Don’t you remember the last time you slept with the help?”

Clay glared at her as he braced his elbows on his knees. “It wasn’t like that,”

“Oh, well, I sure hope not,” she rasped. “Samantha left you all alone with a boy who wasn’t even six months old yet, do you remember that? And now I find you sleeping with the nanny.”

“She’s not the nanny, God, mother, would you drop it?” He muttered and dropped his gaze. “And we weren’t sleeping together. Not like that, anyway.”

Lilith crossed her arms. “Don’t act all innocent, Clay, damnit. What were you doing with her?”

“We just fell asleep!” He loudly answered as he stood up. “That’s it. We were watching a movie together then fell asleep, that’s all. She’s twenty, mother, what do you think could happen there?” He hated the words that were currently leaving his mouth, but he wasn’t ready to have his mother control another relationship of his.

He wasn’t even being truthful, not at all, but he needed to get her off his back. Clay had just begun whatever this is with you, and you needed to have a proper conversation about it before he was able to let himself reveal that he had feelings for you to his overprotective and sometimes overbearing mom.

Lilith narrowed her gaze, and he knew she wasn’t really buying it. “Don’t lie to me, Clay. I mean it,”

He took a breath as he felt his heartbeat quicken a bit, and when he met her eyes again he could see the concern in them. “I’m not lying, mother,” he says, surprised at how calm he sounded. “I promise. That will never happen again. Nothing is going on between Y/n and I.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, you poked your head into the living room, an unreadable expression on your face as you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “I’m heading out,” you told them, your gaze cold and hard. “Mr. Beresford, your son is up. He’s asking for you.”

Even your tone was cold, and Clay had a horrible feeling that you had heard what he said. “Okay,” he quickly responded, walking around his mom and towards you. “I’ll walk you to the door.” He offered, hearing Lilith clear her throat from behind him.

“Shouldn’t you be getting Joey dressed, Clay?” She asked, and when he turned to face her once he was next to you, he saw that her annoyed expression had returned as she crossed her arms.

He opened his mouth to respond but wasn’t able to say anything before you turned around and headed for the stairs. “I’ll only be a minute,” he spoke quickly before following after you. “Y/n-”

“Thank you for letting me stay at your house, Mr. Beresford,” you cut him off as you descended the stairs with him right behind you. “I hope I helped you out a bit while your mother was away.”

Clay’s brows furrowed as you both reached the bottom. “That’s not��you know you did- Y/n, wait,” he rasped and gently took your wrist in his hand, turning you to face him. “I’m sorry about what I said. I don’t know how much you heard, but-”

“I didn’t hear anything,” you lied, shaking your wrist free and putting a few steps of distance between you. He wanted to close the space again, but the look you were currently giving him had him refraining from doing so. “Are we done here?”

Clay looked at you for a few more seconds before nodding, not at all being done here but understanding that you didn’t want to be around him right now. He broke eye contact and reached into his pocket, guilty pulling out his wallet. “Here, I’ll pay you extra-”

“No need,” you brushed him off. Jesus, he probably just made you feel like an escort or something. Could he fuck this up any more than he already has? “Just save it for next time.”

So there will be a next time. “Okay,” he hesitantly agreed, adding, “Can you pick him up from school tomorrow?”

You nod quickly and he could see the way your eyes watered with unshed tears. Fuck, he felt like a complete asshole. “Sure,”

You open the door but before you could step out, he stops you again with his hand on the frame. “Y/n,” he called softly, but you didn’t look at him. He didn’t blame you. With a sigh, he asked, “Let me know you got home okay?”

It was the early morning and probably the safest the streets could be, but he still wanted to know that you had made it home. “Okay,” you answer and leave the house the second he takes his hand off the door and allows you to open it.

Clay stands there and watches as you begin to walk down the street instead of calling for a cab, and he knew you probably needed the walk to clear your head. He had no idea how far away you lived from him, but he still wouldn’t feel any better if he did know, anyway.

He looked down at his wrinkled button up and huffed, closing the door with more force than he needed to before heading upstairs and walking right past the living room, where his mother still stood.

Your face burned in embarrassment as you let your apartment door slam shut. Your eyes stung from the tears you held back during the entire thirty minute walk home from Clay’s place.

You should have never kissed him. You should have never let yourself get so close to him. He didn’t want you. He thought you were too young and immature for him. He didn’t want you.

You drop your bag onto the carpet in the entryway as you press the heels of your hands against your eyes. What was wrong with you? Why did you ever think for a second that this guy - who clearly has his life figured out - would ever want you as something more than a fling? He has a kid, for fucks sake.

Humiliation takes over your body as you make your way to your bedroom. You toss your phone onto your dresser and fall onto your bed, your face pressed against your pillow as the tears finally leave your eyes.

Things should have never escalated past a professional relationship, and now you were left stuck in the most awkward situation ever. You were his kid’s babysitter and had indulged in a heated makeout with him on his couch, then fell asleep on him an hour or so later.

Why did you kiss him? Twice? Why didn’t he stop you?

If he didn’t want anything to happen with you, why did he let things go that far?

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly as you thought about how you were supposed to act like he hadn’t totally crushed you with his words when you babysit Joey tomorrow? How were you supposed to face him after that?

He was right, you’re just a child compared to him. Someone who has no idea what she wants to do with her life and someone who had no business trying to pursue something with her employer.

God, you are so embarrassed.

You weren’t sure how long you cried for, but when you woke up a few hours later you wanted to cry again at how pathetic you felt. You had literally just cried yourself to sleep over a guy. You hadn’t done that since you were seventeen and were sure that your boyfriend at the time was the fucking love of your life, when in reality he was just an immature teenager. You were sure you looked similar to that in Clay’s eyes.

Your phone going off from where you left it on your dresser makes you jump slightly, and you have just enough self control to wait until it goes to voicemail before you push yourself up and make your way to it.

As you unlock it, you are met with a few unread texts and a missed call from Clay, and your heart ached even further.

7:19 AM

Clay Beresford: I’m sorry about how things went before you left. I didn’t know she was coming home today, otherwise that whole thing wouldn’t have happened.

9:23 AM

Clay Beresford: Hey, it’s been a while now and you haven’t let me know you got home yet. Just checking in.

10:01 AM

Clay Beresford: Please tell me you made it home okay.

Tears gathered in your eyes again as Clay was a genuinely nice guy, he just simply didn’t want you in the same way you want him. You’d have to get over him, and you could only hope that happened as quickly as it started.

You inhale sharply as you text him back.

Sorry, I fell asleep as soon as I got home. Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow.

You turn your phone off after that and set it aside as you sit down at your small kitchen table and open your laptop. While you planned on getting over your crush on Clay, you still knew you wouldn’t be able to work for him for much longer, so with another quick inhale, you begin your search for another job.

Clay fucked up, that much he knew.

He sat at his desk at work, his eyes glued to his phone as he reread your text. You had become so short in your responses to him, both over the phone and in real life. You had called him Mr. Beresford. Multiple times.

He tossed his phone aside as he leaned back and sighed, running his hands down his face as he heard his computer go off with another incoming email.

It was only ten in the morning, and he was already done with the day.

He was out of line when he was talking to his mom earlier, and had he known that you were able to hear what he was saying, he would’ve never said it. He knew his words hurt you, and he was sure he fucked up any chance with you now since he was just a coward who can’t stand up to his mom.

You probably wouldn’t want to be with him, anyway, if you knew that he was pretty much momma’s boy. Truly, you deserve someone more mature than he was, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want you.

He really did. He hasn’t felt this way since Sam, and even then he couldn’t remember feeling like this. Clay hadn’t thought about her at all lately, and he knew it’s because of you. His mind is constantly consumed with thoughts of you and Joey, and how much his son had grown attached to you.

If you stopped babysitting because he is a fucking idiot, it’ll break Joey’s poor heart, and that would probably break Clay’s.

Other than Lilith and Rick, you are the only other person who was a constant in Joey’s life, and your sudden absence from it would surely be confusing for the four year old.

Clay ended up going home early and picking Joey up from school two hours before it ended, simply because he was really the only person that brought him comfort, with the exception of you, but that was only a recent thing and he already fucked it up.

He was on his back on the living room floor, the expensive rug making it a bit more comfortable as Joey sat on top of him and played with his stuffed bear Lilith had gotten him for his second birthday. “I miss Y/n,” he mumbled as he pulled at the blue bow the bear had around its neck.

Clay gave his son a small smile, both at his sweet words and at the way he was getting better at pronouncing your name. “I miss her, too, bub,” he said and meant it. Having you over for two nights was amazing and walking into the kitchen to see you and Joey already in there felt strangely normal. He can’t believe he fucked that up.

It had only been a few minutes since he got home when his mom walked down stairs and stopped once she glanced into the living room and saw both her son and grandson in there. “Oh, you’re back early,” she observed, looking over at the clock as she entered the room. “It’s only one thirty.”

“I know,” Clay responded, reaching up and running his fingers through Joey’s hair. “It was a slow day.” He lied, and avoided eye contact with her since he knew he couldn’t actually lie to her.

“Uh huh,” she said and crouched down next to them, smoothing out the mess Clay made of Joey’s hair. “You should be in school.” She said in a lighter tone, making Joey smile up at her.

“Daddy said he missed me,” he said back.

“Did he?” She asked, looking down at Clay with a raised brow. “I was the one who was gone for four days and you’re the one he missed? That’s not very fair, is it?”

Joey laughs and holds the bear out to her, and she takes it with a smile. Then he got up and reached out to her with both arms, making Clay sigh as she picked him up. “I hope you aren’t still upset about this morning,” she says, holding Joey on her hip. “I warned you about that girl, Clay. The last thing we need is another Samantha Lockwood.”

Her name had Clay sitting up with a grimace. “She’s nothing like Sam, mother,” he defended you even though you weren’t here to witness it like you were this morning when he excused you as if you meant nothing. “Y/n’s nice, and she’s great with Joey. He loves her already.”

Lilith nodded with a knowing glint in her eyes, “Yes, the Beresford boys fall for people quite fast,” she replied. “Just as long as you haven’t.” She added and left the room, heading towards the kitchen with his son in her arms.

Clay huffed as he moved to sit on the couch, taking out his phone once he was settled against the backrest. He wanted to call you and try to explain why he said what he did, but he was sure you wouldn’t understand. Or you wouldn’t care.

He didn’t really deserve to call you right now. He deserved to wallow in the guilt for way longer than just a few hours.

You will be here when he gets home from work tomorrow. He needed to try and get you to listen to him before you left again.

Until then he will give you space and try not to piss you off more than he has already.

“Y/n!” Joey excitedly says as he runs over to you. “I missed you!”

You bend down and wrap your arms around his little body. “Hey, buddy,” you say back. “I missed you, too.”

He pulls away with a smile as his small fingers play with your bracelet. “Daddy says he misses you, too,” your own smile dropped a bit at that as you ran your hand up and down his back.

“He did?” You ask with a forced laugh. “That’s nice, huh?”

You stand back up and take his smaller hand in yours as you lead him towards the car. “Yeah, and he picked me up from school yesterday,” he told you, making your brows furrow a bit as you get him situated in the backseat of Rick’s car.

He probably meant that Clay had picked him up when the day was over instead of having Lilith or Rick do it himself. Still, your forehead sported a crease the whole drive to Clay’s house at the fact that he left work early enough to be able to pick Joey up at three.

Once you have the front door locked, you take Joey’s hand again and grab his bag with your free one as he tugs you up the stairs. You unpack his lunchbox as he snacks on the cheese and crackers you got out for him, and when you pull out his work from today your smile returns.

He had drawn you again, but this time it was just you and him holding hands, with a teddy bear in his other one. “This is cute, Joe,” you tell him as you sit next to him at the kitchen table.

Joey looks up and gives you a big smile as he points at it. “That’s for you,”

Your smile falters once again as you look between him and the drawing. “For me?”

He nods as he chews on a cracker. “I made it for you,”

You press your lips together as you look over the drawing again, noting the little details that showed it was you. Your hair color, your eye color, the bracelet on your left wrist. It was represented by a simple black line on your wrist, but it still had you reaching over and wrapping your free arm around him. “I love it,” you say with a wavering voice. “Thank you, babe.” The name slipped out before you could even realize it, but the big grin Joey gave you afterwards had you feeling less embarrassed about it.

You had spent a good portion of your day yesterday looking for another job, but now you were dreading leaving this one. Sure, it wasn’t very ideal to consider babysitting a job, but it was your source of income for now.

Joey was so damn cute and so nice for his young age, how could you just up and leave him? Even though he wasn’t old enough to realize that his own mother had abandoned him, the thought of being like her made your skin crawl. You couldn’t do that to him, but things with Clay were so awkward and full of tension, how could you stay after what he said about you?

You were so embarrassed, you weren’t even sure how you were going to face him when he got home later. Maybe you could slip out quickly as soon as he entered the house? Yeah, you’ll do that.

You sit at the table with Joey for a long time, talking about nothing and everything as you share a coloring page. Gone were the cheese and crackers, and when he looked up at you with a pouty lip, you knew he was hungry for dinner.

Standing back up, you set the drawing aside and get started on dinner, which was a simple ground beef and pasta casserole. Joey finished it quickly and hopped off the chair, heading in direction of the living room as you put away the leftovers.

“Daddy!” You hear him call and pause, your fingers wrapped tightly around the plastic container as Joey laughs somewhere in the hall. You look over at the clock on the stove and see that it is only six thirty. Clay was home early.

Well, at least earlier than he had been for most of the days you’ve been babysitting Joey.

You hear quiet footsteps near the kitchen and slowly turn, meeting Clay’s eyes as he stands in the doorway with Joey in his arms. He looked nervous as he held his son against his chest, his forearm pressed firmly against his back. “Hey,” he said cautiously.

Turning back around, you secure the lid on the container before walking over to the fridge and putting it inside. “Hi,” you answer shortly and feel the tension start to grow. “You’re home earlier than I expected.”

Clay sets Joey down as he says, “Yeah, I rushed through most of my meetings today,”

You nod and grab your bag from off the table, slipping the drawing inside as you do so. “Well, I guess I’ll be going now,”

“Wait,” he calls softly, gently nudging Joey in the direction of the living room as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “We should talk.”

You give him a shrug and a forced smile. “There’s nothing to talk about-”

“Yes, there is,” he cut you off and when you met his eyes again, you could see what looked like desperation in them. You break eye contact as soon as you make it and play with the strap of your bag. “Please.”

You don’t say anything as you stare at the floor, your face burning when you feel your eyes sting.

“I’m going to go get him ready for bed,” he started, making you hesitantly glance up at him. He looked hopeful as he asked, “Will you stay? And after I put him to bed, we can talk…please? I feel awful.”

You bite down harshly on your lip as you shift uncomfortably. With a sigh, you walk past him and towards the living room, feeling Clay follow close behind you. Joey smiled at you as you sat next to him on the couch, and when you set your bag down again on the floor, you could hear the quiet sigh of relief Clay let out.

“Come on, bub,” he held out his hand. “Bath time.”

Joey got up and gave you a quick hug before running over to his dad and taking his much bigger hand. When Clay looked back at you as he guided Joey upstairs, all you did was give him a small, barely-there smile, and that seemed to be enough assurance for him. At least for now.

#hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #clayton beresford #clay beresford x reader #clay beresford imagines #clayton beresford imagines #clayton beresford imagine #awake 2007 #awake #in the way i need you series #in the way i need you #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars anakin

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

Text

Eddie's Memory Log: Day 30

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 4 here | part 5 here | part 6 here

(ao3 link here)

After one whole month of documenting Eddie Munson’s semi-fucked memory levels, Steve has come across a few crucial bullet points:

Eddie never forgets his own name.

If Eddie’s pain levels are bad, so are his memories.

Eddie likes the lime jello better than the chocolate pudding, except he always forgets.

Eddie’s memory is worse after the weekend, but it gets better throughout the week.

Eddie can hum the theme songs to all of the shitty soap operas (even on bad days).

Eddie’s memory is at its best if he’s had multiple visitors the day before.

And maybe the most important bullet of them all:

Eddie always remembers three people (Wayne, Dustin, and Steve).

Memory Log: Day 31

It’s Monday, which means Steve hasn’t seen Eddie all weekend. The knuckleheads and Hellfire lemmings take the weekend shift since they don’t have school. Steve should be grateful for the time off, but he can’t help but wonder how Eddie is feeling - if he’s throwing hissy fits or being confectionery sweet to all of his guests.

The curiosity and concern has settled its way into Steve’s routine during his days off. That’s just how it is.

And that’s exactly why Mondays are becoming Steve’s (secret) favorite day, despite Eddie’s brain managing the slightest soft-reset after the weekend.

“Is he a Hyde or a Kathy today?” Steve asks the nurse at the visitor check-in counter.

He knows the majority of the staff by now, and they’ve all adopted his Eddie Behavioral Lingo. Steve is getting far too cocky about being the hospital trendsetter.

“He’s um…” the nurse's gaze drifts up to Eddie’s door.

Shit. Steve bursts into the room because he already knows exactly what that translates to.

It’s a high-pain day. Eddie affectionately calls them Grendel Days - he finally decided to play along with their lackluster literary references.

Oh yeah… Eddie remembers Beowulf

“Hey, hero.” Steve speaks in a lower volume because loud noises are brutal on days like this. “I heard that Grendel crashed the party today, huh?”

Admittedly, Steve had Dustin retell the important chunks of Beowulf to him cause there’s no way in Nerd Hell that Steve was going to read that fantasy bible of theirs.

Eddie squints one eye open to look at Steve. “That son of a bitch is trying to slice open my goddamn kidneys, I swear.”

“Should I get my nail bat?”

“You’re what?”

Damnit.

Eddie remembers zero fucking percent about their monster battles (and it’s probably best to keep it that way while he’s still recovering).

“Not important.” It is but whatever. Best to just change topics. “Can I interest you in any pain distractions?”

“What are you gonna do exactly - open your letterman jacket and offer me a lollipop?” Eddie snorts at his own joke before slumping over, holding his sides.

Steve wags his finger at him. “See, that is karma for being so mean to me all the time.”

“That?”

“All this pain you’re having.”

“Actually, I think it’s because I’m some type of Demonic Tinker Bell.” Eddie offers, fake coughing into his hand. “If not enough people are calling me freak, I start to die.”

It’s just a joke, but Steve is not so keen on his friends joking about things like Mortality anymore.

Still, he laughs. Plays along easily. “All hail the freak.”

Eddie stops his fake coughing fit.

“And just like that, my wings of darkness have returned.” Eddie flicks his wrist theatrically, giving Steve the weakest smile. “See? Much better.”

But it’s not Much Better. Eddie spends the rest of the visit seething with internal pains. Switchboard style - one area inflicting jolts of throbbing agony, then another. Eddie grabs wherever it hurts the most. Sometimes he can’t touch every pain point, it’s just too widespread.

Maybe Steve should… No. He’s not sure his hands could stop the hurt any better. He’s not a doctor and he’s not fucking magic. Steve is just the guy that wears offensively bright sweaters and watches Eddie’s torture spectacle from a front row seat.

They don’t talk much after that.

Eddie can’t talk through the pain. And apparently… neither can Steve.

Memory Log: Day 35

The pain has been monstrous all week long. They’ve had to plug Eddie’s heart monitor back in because his heart rate tends to skyrocket when waves of pain hit. It used to be easy to forget that Eddie suffered anything other than head trauma.

Not anymore. Not with his room beeping like a terminal metronome at all hours.

Steve stops asking Eddie’s novel-based behavior levels because he already knows the answer. Wishes he didn’t.

“Munson?” The lights are off, which helps with Eddie’s headaches. That’s good. Less pain in his head, behind his eyes. Small victories.

“Go home.” Eddie’s breathing sounds labored.

Steve settles into his chair anyways. “Can’t.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Me neither.”

“Steve, I swear.”

“Like a sailor.”

Eddie chuckles. “Hurts to laugh.”

Seeing Eddie like this is god awful. He should be shredding on his guitar or mocking Dustin senseless for his clashing pattern combinations. He shouldn't be wrapping his arms around his torso, confining the pain that’s mangling him from the inside out.

“We’ve gotta find a way to get Grendel out of your system, man.” Steve bends down to Eddie’s eye level. “Cause this fucking blows.”

Eddie opens both eyes this time - they’re so sunken in. “… Grendel?”

Shit no.

If Eddie’s pain levels are bad, so are his memories.

Steve tries again anyway. “You know… from Beowulf?”

“Sounds cool.” Eddie eye’s close again. “Are they a band?”

Eddie doesn’t remember Beowulf.

“You think everything sounds like a band name…” Steve mumbles, ignoring the disappointment pinging in his mind.

Eddie reaches for the guitar pick on his neck - one of his bandmates brought it by a couple weeks ago. He rubs his thumb over it as if he can transfer memories through fingerprints.

“Hometown Slut.” Eddie sends a sideways smile over towards Steve. “Snatching virginities and record deals.”

Okay. Fuck. Eddie remembers inside jokes. That seems like a big fucking deal.

Steve attempts to not overreact with this revelation. Avoid another hair ruffling/thumbs-up situation. “Did you have to use the word ‘snatch’ in your weird little slogan?”

“Oh the word choice was very unavoidable, Stevie boy.”

Steve shuts the notebook, focuses on keeping Eddie distracted from his pain. “What about your band?”

“What about it?”

“Do you remem…” Steve searches for another phrase. “Do you think you can tell me the name?”

“Alright, please stop treating ‘remember’ like it’s a dirty word.” Eddie whines. “I’m not the fucking cable version of Breakfast Club. Stop censoring yourself around me.”

“Right.” Steve opens the binder back up.

Eddie doesn’t remember…

“Corroded Coffin.”

Phew. Eddie does remember his band.

“Do you remember what instrument you play?” Steve puts emphasis on the un-censored word.

“Accordion.”

“Be serious.”

“Polka is dripping in sincerity.”

Steve pinches the skin between his eyebrows. Truly, it’s impressive that Eddie can still manage to be a massive prick, even when he’s writhing in pain. It’s like he’s going for the goddamn gold medal of assholery.

“Guitar.” Eddie dangles the pick around, somewhat peeved. “Now can we chill with the third degree for today, officer?”

Steve notices Eddie’s monitor is beeping faster than it was when he first entered the room. That sobers him up from his irritation.

“Yeah, sure.” He sighs. “No more questions for today.”

Eddie cuts him a devious look. “Well I didn’t say that now, did I?”

“Huh?”

“Oh the vapid look is not nearly as cute as you think it is.” Eddie lifts himself up slightly from his stack of pillows. He flattens them out and into a pillow wall as he sits upright. “How about I ask the questions today?”

“Why? I’m not the one who’s struggling with brain stuff.” Steve walks over to give him a hand. Eddies seems to be struggling with his strength, which is to be expected after becoming a fucking bat buffet.

“That’s debatable.” Eddie mumbles.

Steve’s close enough to feel his breath as he pushes the pillows comfortably around Eddie’s new sitting position.

It’s not weird, the close contact or the breath. Steve has been helping Eddie with gross shit for a month - holding his hair when he starts puking or coughing up blood. Unraveling him from tubes and cords because Eddie is notorious for twisting himself into a medical straight jacket with this shit.

It’s not weird… it’s just weird how aware Steve is of Eddie’s breath. How warm and jagged it feels, even through his layered clothes.

Maybe Eddie is aware too, because he starts breathing through his nose the longer the silence is drawn out between them. Steve finally takes a step back, creates a non-breath-touching distance once again.

“Humor me then.” Eddie fills the tense pause.

Steve crosses his arms. “Don’t I always?”

“No. Usually, you aggravate me.” But see, why do Eddie’s eyes get all shimmery when he says snarky shit? And why does Steve suddenly use words like shimmery to describe Eddie Munson?

Why does it remind him of those sequined dresses that girls wear to homecoming dances when Eddie’s eyes do that shimmery thing? It’s like his mind is taking the insults and turning them into compliments, which is so bizarre.

“Steve?”

Shit, right. Say something instead of thinking about Eddie’s sequined eyes, goddamnit. “Yeah?”

Real original, asshole.

“Just… look.” Eddie taps his fingers against this side of his bed. “There’s sharp pains shooting through every fucking limb on my body right now. I just need a distraction today - not a pop quiz.”

Yeah, Steve offered the distraction idea at the beginning of the week. But really, that’s not what he’s here to do. He’s here for the kids. He’s here to fill his jobless life with a meaningful task. Help Eddie the way he couldn’t help him in the Upside Down.

But the kids have no idea what it’s like every day. How some days, they are friendly and comfortable with one another. How some days, there’s a verbal boxing match between them - and on those days, they’re both the losers.

How some days, Steve is the one getting flustered instead of Eddie (who’s usually being called out for staring at Steve’s hair or arms or whatever else his eyes decide to fixate on).

Nobody else knows how many climates this hospital room can hold. Nobody besides Steve and Eddie.

“Fine.” Steve decides after mulling it over for far too long. “I’ll be your distraction.”

“Careful, Steve.” Eddie breaks the non-breath-touching distance, poking Steve’s wrist. “You almost sound flattered.”

“Hardly.” Bad time to bring up the word hard - when they’re seesawing between taunts and flirtations. Thank god for the binder Steve’s holding, obscuring any part of his anatomy that could potentially betray his coolness at the moment.

“Go ahead, Munson.” Steve backs away from Eddie’s touch. “Ask your questions.”

Eddie runs the entire thing as if he were a late night talk show host. Uses his hospital side table as his interview desk. Pretends his empty jello container is his microphone. Calls Steve his ‘special guest’ the whole time. Steve scoots his chair right next to Eddie’s bed, just to keep up the talk show charade.

An hour into it, they’re both feeding off one another’s energy and attention. Steve can tell by the way Eddie’s fingers unclench from his sides and his teeth stop gritting together, that his pain is subsiding - or perhaps it’s no longer at the focal point of his mind. His heart monitor is at a tempo that seems ideal - less fast and less choppy. More like a ballad than a pop song.

Eddie’s questions range from common to outright strange. He asks Steve shit like, ‘what’s your favorite breakfast food?’ And then follows it up with, ‘okay - but if you could only eat scrambled eggs for dinner, would they still be your favorite breakfast? Or does time of day play a vital role in your food preferences?’

“Does it fucking matter?” Steve rolls his eyes. More than annoyed by Eddie’s constant need to play devil’s advocate.

“Nothing matters, Harrington.” Eddie replies. “And please stop answering my questions with more questions. This isn’t a goddamn improv game.”

Eddie remembers how to be a pain in the ass.

Steve doesn’t write it down, doesn’t really need to. “What the hell is an improv game?”

“I swear to Johnny Carson, I’ll kick you off my show.”

“Whatever.” Steve isn’t any less confused, but what’s new. “I guess time of day does matter a little bit.”

“Ha! Knew it. You’re so predictable.”

“And you’re a fucking handful.”

“That’s high praise coming from such an esteemed guest of the show.” Eddie’s hand is splayed over his chest, over his heart. The heart that’s beating like a ballad and not a pop song according to his monitor.

Okay stop.

Steve knows this is a game. A shtick. So why is his face heating up? Why are his palms sweatier than they were twenty minutes ago? Why does Steve keep wondering what Eddie’s eyelashes feel like against his cheek when he flutters them in that overly dramatic way?

The clock interrupts his questioning. Probably for the best.

They exchange goodbyes. Eddie always gets a little concerned that Steve might not show up again. Steve always tucks his bitchiness away to reassure Eddie that he’ll be back on Monday.

It’s their routine. Not just Steve’s routine. It’s theirs now.

Memory Log: Day 38

It’s Monday. Soft-reset day. Steve’s new favorite day.

“Hey, Steve.” One of the nurses stops him on his way to Eddie’s room.

Her name is Sam - Steve likes Sam the best because she lets him stay longer on days when Eddie feels his shittiest. She also gives him gum to help with his nerves.

Hospitals do that sometimes. They just activate his nerves like glow sticks. Snapping and crackling the radioactive colors that make his stomach churn.

Anyways, the gum helps.

“What’s up?” Steve asks.

“Just wondering,” Sam gives him a pleasant smile. “Do we have a code for Eddie’s good days?”

“Good days?” They don’t hear that phrase often around here. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you should think of one.” She starts flipping through some files. “He’s been in great spirits for three days now.”

Three days? Steve rarely gets three hours of Eddie being in great spirits. The guy is a perpetual ghoul, so this is definitely something to celebrate.

Steve makes a pit stop to the vending machine. Grabs them a couple of root beers and candy bars for the occasion. Look, it’s not champagne and hors d’oeuvres, but it’ll suffice. Besides, Eddie doesn’t strike him as a ritzy kind of dude anyways. He’d probably make some joke like, ‘you mean to tell me that a whore made these d’ouevres?’

Jesus christ, Steve’s been hanging out with Eddie for too long.

“There’s my favorite lady killer.” Eddie is already grinning as Steve walks in the door.

Still remembers Steve is a Hometown Slut (of all the things that would stick to his brain… why that?)

“Seriously, you look sharp today.”

Steve’s knees lock at the compliment. “Um. Thanks. So do you.”

And the crazy part is, he means that. There’s a peachy color returning back to Eddie’s skin. The bags under his eyes are a faded gray instead of an Almost Black.

And his hair. Eddie’s hair is actually untangled. His curls are fluffed out, sort of feathery at the ends. Maybe somebody trimmed all of the dead pieces off because it looks... Well, it looks nice.

Steve kind of hates to admit that.

“Guessing your pain levels are better?”

“You guess right.” Eddie nods. “Whatever meds they gave me Friday night finally kicked Grendel’s lousy ass.”

Eddie remembers Beowulf again.

“Glad to hear it.” Steve is trying to process how great things are going. Eddie’s complexion. Eddie’s memories. It’s never this clear on Mondays. Steve tries to just be grateful to have a day like this, but he can’t help but wonder why.

Why now?

“Eggs for breakfast?” Eddie is fiddling with his necklace again.

Steve jerks his head up. “You… didn’t forget?”

“Don’t get too excited.” Eddie gestures to Steve’s pants. “Because I wish I could forget those ridiculous khakis that you always wear on Mondays.”

“Shit, really?”

“What’s the deal with that anyways?” Eddie’s nose scrunches up at the question. “Laundry day or something?”

“I…” Yes.

“Or do you think your ass just looks better in lighter colors?”

“Well…” Also yes.

Eddie winks. “Looks like your ability to complete a sentence is just as fucked as my memory, huh Stevie?”

Steve nervously runs his hands through his hair. “This is just a lot to process, sorry.”

And it is. Steve starts jotting everything down before he starts to forget:

Eddie remembers Steve’s favorite breakfast food.

Eddie remembers Steve wearing khakis on previous Mondays.

Eddie remembers Steve’s Memory Fucked inside joke.

Eddie remembers a shit ton about Steve.

Eddie remembers.

Very lightly, Steve scribbles on the corner of the page:

Eddie notices Steve’s ass…

The rest of the visit is pretty awesome, one of the best ones they’ve ever had. Eddie recalls practically everything from Friday, which is blowing Steve’s mind. They talk about his visit with Dustin on Sunday, and how excited Eddie is to see Wayne on Thursday. Steve doesn’t even bother with taking more notes because Eddie remembers it all.

They talk like real friends today. Friends that occasionally notice other friend’s asses or get lost in their sequined eyes, but still. It’s somewhere in the ballpark of friends, right? Whatever it is, it’s better than ripping each other apart with insults. That’s gotta count for something.

Eddie falls asleep an hour before visiting hours are over. He falls asleep still smiling from the last joke he told before dozing off. Steve studies his facial features because he can finally see more of them (Eddie’s bangs were trimmed too, thank god).

He’s still pretty banged up. Cuts that overlap and bruises that change gradient the further up they spread. As if the softer parts of Eddie are still freshly wounded. That’s not how it works, Steve has been beaten up enough to know that people don’t bruise like fruit. Not really.

Steve can just see more of Eddie now, which is proving to be a dangerous road to travel down. Way too many detours to let his mind wander. Think. Overthink.

He thinks Eddie is attractive. That’s the detour he’s taking tonight. And if this person didn’t already occupy so much space in his mind, that detour might be more shocking to him. But it’s barely registering on the shock-meter.

Eddie’s unharmed features are highlighted in attractiveness against the purples and grays and reds. It’s almost impossible not to notice that he’s attractive when his face has this many colors. This much character.

Steve doesn’t know what’s going on. This could all be his exhaustion kicking in. Or maybe Eddie’s great spirits has twisted Steve’s outlook on things. Or maybe it’s an illusion from the Better Day they’ve shared together.

The only clear answer that Steve has right now is that Eddie remembers him. And that fucking means something.

Steve stops by to tell Sam the good news on his way out.

“I think he’s getting better.”

Sam nods once. “He definitely feels better, I’ll give you that.”

“Sure, but…” Steve begins. “I think his memory is getting better too. He remembers the littlest details about me.”

“Steve.”

“That’s huge, right?” Steve is so awestruck. “Like… I don’t know, Sam. Maybe he’ll get to go home soon.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes just keep shifting between Steve and Eddie’s door.

“I think I need to show you something.”

That can’t be good. Her tone is very, ‘speak with me after class, young man.’

They quietly walk back into Eddie’s room. Sam motions her head for Steve to approach Eddie’s bedside. Cautiously, Steve does.

She gently pulls back Eddie’s thin blanket, and Steve feels the air vacate his fucking lungs.

Eddie’s arms. There’s tape and IVs and tattoos and scars - all of the usual stuff.

But then there’s writing. Eddie is covered in black ink, scribbled notes filling in all the gaps of his pale skin. Steve can’t make out most of the words - it’s all messy.

But there’s one word he spots over and over again.

‘Steve.’

It’s all messy, sure. But it’s all about him.

“Holy shit.” Steve whispers, quickly looking towards Sam. “Sorry, didn’t mean to swear.”

“No, that’s an appropriate response.” Of course she’d be cool about him swearing.

Without waking up Eddie, he begins to decipher the notes as best as he can:

Scrambled eggs. Extra hold hairspray. Hyde or Kathy. Yellow sweater. Khakis on Mondays.

There are notes on things they haven’t talked about as well. Things that Eddie has just observed:

Steve visits Mon-Fri.

Steve laughs at all of your jokes, even the mean ones.

Steve applies chapstick when he’s nervous.

Steve will untangle your wires without making it weird.

The name Steve no longer sounds the same after reading it fifteen times over.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Sam places a hand on Steve’s back. “It’s not that he’s remembering everything again.”

“Oh.”

“He just doesn’t want to forget you.”

No. That can’t be right. That can’t be possible. Of course Eddie knows who Steve is. Of course he does.

Steve finds a shitty excuse to get the hell out of this place. He’s polite about it because Sam is a kindhearted person, but this is so fucking unfair. Every last bit of it, down the last ink stain on Eddie’s nondominant arm.

Max isn’t awake. Eddie still has a skim-milk memory. Nothing has gotten better?

Well that shit ends today. Because whatever detour Steve’s mind discovered tonight, it’s leading him down a fucking freeway of tenacity. He’s fueled by whatever attraction or feelings he’s developing for Eddie. Whether it’s friendship or something more, it really doesn’t matter. Not after tonight.

Steve just cares about Eddie way too much to let his mind rot away like this. He’s too close, too connected to the problem to let it go unsolved forever.

As soon as Steve gets home, he calls Robin.

“Really, dingus?” Robin answers the phone like that. Annoyed and groaning already. “It’s late and I’m neck-deep in a John Hughes marathon.”

“It’s about Eddie.” Steve gets right to it.

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh fuck.” She exhales loudly. “How can I help?”

“You’re friends with his bandmates, right?”

“Yeah, kinda. Why?”

Steve flips through the memory log. Locates one of his crucial bullet points:

Eddie can hum the theme songs to all of the shitty soap operas (even on bad days).

“I need you to ask them to make a mixtape of Eddie’s favorite songs.” Steve requests. “And it should be in chronological order. From stuff he liked as a kid, to stuff he’s into now.”

“Okay…” Robin pauses. “And you think this will help?”

“I don’t know.” Which is true, it could be a big waste of time. “But I’ve gotta try something.”

This might be dumb. But music helped them defeat(ish) Vecna. So there’s a possibility it could massage the knots in Eddie’s mind. Relax him enough to remember his life. All of it.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Steve adds before hanging up.

“What?”

Steve hits the accelerator on his freeway of tenacity.

“I need my fucking car back.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #these are getting longer than I ever thought they would be I'm sorry!#but things are gonna get way more flirty next time 😏#oh and I’ve read this too many times to know if it’s decent anymore #so if it’s mush… that is why 🙃#and please bonk me on the head if I forget to tag you please xx

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mayhemscorner · 1 year

Text

Bed Rest

Shikamaru x f!reader

🔞MINORS DNI 🔞

Warnings: soft core SMUT, swearing, injuries

Summary: a lazy hang out turns to lazy sex (just a quick smut read for on the go. Simple, goofy, with a bit of filler episode humor)

To say I was beat from the mission was an understatement. Turns out, getting slammed in to the ground by your neck really does a lot of damage. My bed at home beckoned to me, plush, soft comforter and lots of space to stretch compared to the bedroll on my back that’s been used for two weeks. It was a dream to be prescribed three days of bed rest by the doctor. But upon opening the bedroom door, I notice a lazy soul already occupying my sweet bed.

“Move over, I’m tired.” I grunt out, slamming face first in to the long forgotten pillow that rest besides Shikamaru’s head. It was common to find him napping in a random spot when I’d come back from missions, sometimes the floor, or the front porch of my house. But my bed was a new one.

“Great to see you and your smart comments are still alive.” He sighs as I can feel his weight shift closer to me, grunting in pain.

I wince as I turn my neck to focus on his bruised face, “I hear you got a nice beat down yourself, champ.”

“Doctors orders for strict bed rest, a drag I can’t go outside and watch the clouds.” He mumbles out, his eyes fluttering slowly shut. I huff a small laugh out as a pinch of pain runs through my neck,” bed rest doesn’t mean an actual bed. It just means get sleep and not get in any fights, Shikamaru. Now get out of my bed so I can get my ordered bed rest.”

I’m only answered by slow and steady breathing, signaling he was already practically asleep. Leave it to Shikamaru to put his best effort in falling asleep. I can only sigh, gathering a pillow to go crash on my own couch in defeat. A slow hand stops me from brokenly standing up,” bed rest, not couch rest. Just lay down and don’t be awkward, damnit.”

“Awkward? You’re in my bed. You’re the only one making this awkward.” I huff out, slamming the pillow against his head and falling back down beside him. He drapes an arm over my side and grumbles,” stop complaining already, if you didn’t like it you would’ve forced me out the door by now, Y/N.”

His delicately placed hand sends electric pulses through my entire body, a sensation that was almost taboo to feel about a close friend. And the anger of him being right sets in.

“Shut up and put your hand somewhere else then, you’re distracting me.” I try to chastise him, resulting in it moving upwards and cupping my breast,” not what I meant.”

He chuckles slightly, close enough to my ear that it sends a shiver against my spine,” if I really wanted to distract you I would.”

His hand kneads slightly, oddly relieving other pains as the ecstasy of the intimate touch invades my senses.

“S-Shikamaru, what are you doing?” I yelp out as his other hand snakes its way under my body and to my other breast.

“I’m showing you what distracting really is.” He clips out, resting his heated face against my neck and nipping softly at it. My body acts on its own free will, arching my back into his body, and grinding my ass against his pelvis deeply.

“But we’re supposed to-“ I begin, being quickly cut off as his breath ghosts over the spot he just bit,” resting… I know.”

He pulls away, minding the sore spots as I moan in frustration,” and I can’t do that now that you’ve made a move on me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve crossed a line. I’m too tired to think clearly.” He apologizes, quickly suggesting he went home.

“No! I mean, you just caught me off guard. I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” I admit sheepishly, guiding his hands back to position. It was his turn to sigh, only this time it was relief… maybe even pleasure. His lower body rhythmically rolls into mine, boasting a defined bulge against me that grows harder with every touch. I can hear the soft moan in my ear and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from following suit.

“I’m pretty lame at the moment… I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” I breathe out, heart quickening with every motion. I suddenly realize it might be beneficial for the both of us as a moan finally escapes my own mouth,“But then again, I wouldn’t mind going slow and enjoying it. I find going slow is quite relaxing and a great way to promote rest.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself, or me, Y/N?” Shikamaru breathes out tiredly as my mind races. I whip around quickly, disregarding any aching pain and settle on top of him with a huff,” fuck it.”

My hands wander across his body, plucking and pulling at the fabric that’s separates us. It felt so wrong, yet so right to know first hand that the man who always complained about women could feel emotions such as intimacy. The friend I always slept or napped with, but never in an intimate way. The static charge of rubbing clothes courses through my finger tips, jolting through my body and down to my core. If I didn’t like him so much… if I didn’t crave or even need him so much, I might just feel guilty. But the feeling of his lips clumsily finding mine between closed eyes and rambunctious limbs fumbling around, felt a little too satisfying. We were both lazy at heart, never in a rush. And it showed as his lips took time against mine. Slowly pulling in my lower lip as his hand finds its way to squeeze against my ass, followed by a light smack. I use his slight distraction to nip at his lip, taking in the faint taste of an after mission cigarette drag. He sharply inhales, finding his bearings in gripping tightly at my hips. Shikamaru’s eyes flutter halfway open, hungrily staring me down as all thoughts escape my head in nervousness,” Y/N, are you okay?”

I shake my head back to reality, looking down at his pants line and back to him,” Y-yeah. Are you… are you okay with this?”

“Yeah.” He huffs a silent laugh as I work at his pants, finally receiving a helping hand as he pulls them below his knees. Shikamaru’s hips jerk as my hand delicately wraps around him, pumping softly and slowly, falling in to a rhythm with his breathing. Shikamaru tilts his head back, moaning slightly with a half cocked smile of bliss, jutting his hips in to each stroke as his face quickly flushes,” just don’t hurt yourself, okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, it’s my neck that bothers me. Not my hand.” I exhale, watching his eyes roll before they meet mine,” if it gets to be too much. Tell me to stop.”

I nod, taking a brief moment to slip off my pants that desperately need a wash after the mission and crawl back on top of him. I find the courage to sink down, the ache between my hips enhancing with each second I take to slide fully on to him. By the time I’m fully settled, it feels like my core is about to burst with ecstasy, until he lifts me slightly by my hips and slams me back down gently. A soft yelp escapes my throat from surprise, quickly hushed by his voice,” does that hurt?”

“No, it- it feels good.” I moan between thrusts, watching as his face contorts from pain to fits of pleasure and ecstasy. My head instinctively moves to fall back, quickly answered with a jolt of pain before Shikamaru goes taut and stops all movement,” Shikamaru, I said I was okay. Keep going… please.”

He nods, resuming his motion as I feel the familiar knot in my stomach, unfortunately dulled by the ebbing pain that seemed to rush back in uninvited. My eyes shut tight, spots flickering as my neck hurts and lower body goes numb in pleasure. My moan is choked out by Shikamaru’s own, followed quickly as his pace picks up, using the last of his energy to finish strong and rough.

“Look at me, Y/N.” He hisses out between his clenched jaw, forcing my eyes to obey and lock on to his before they wander once again with the sensation of pure ecstasy. With a guttural moan from Shikamaru, I can feel the hot ropes pulse in to me and his body becomes rigid once again. His head arches back in to the pillow behind him, his moan quickly becoming a whimper, and guilt makes me hope it’s from pleasure and not pain. I can barely manage to flop over beside him and try my best to hide the winces, but fail miserably.

“It was too much for the both of us, wasn’t it?” He sighs, eyes fixated on the ceiling as his hand rubs against his torso. I reach my hand to move his, taking his place to rub at the bruising area softly,” probably. But you always sucked at timing.”

His hand snakes upwards to cup the back of my neck and rub soft circles where it hurt the most, and his eyes slowly meet mine,” such a drag I didn’t do it sooner.”

I find my eyes fluttering closed at the lulling touch against my neck, being pulled slowly to rest my head against his chest and match his steady breathing,” I only let you because it was a pity to see you being the one in pain for once.”

“That’s a lie.” Shikamaru snickers, pinching my ear slightly with his free hand. I giggle back, tilting my head up to sleepily look to him,” and how would you know?”

“Never tell Choji secrets. Especially when you’re both drunk.” He answers, pulling me fully on to him with a grunt. My mind tries to gather any time Choji and I were drunk together, but falls short,” that’s a bluff. I haven’t been drunk with Choji for a long time.”

“Barbecue, sake, and wedding gift planning.” Shikamaru hints.

I then remember the night, sitting down with Choji and venting about not being able to find Hinata and Naruto a gift when my own love life was on the rocks. Sake goes down too sweetly after going through a break up just before a friend gets married. It was several weeks ago now, turning to Choji after Ino and even TenTen had come up short with ideas.

“Why don’t you ask Shikamaru? You two seem to think pretty similarly.” Choji huffs out, ordering the bottle of sake.

“The last thing we need is the two of us working together. It always ends horribly and you know that, Choji.” I cough out after knocking back several cups of the bitter and satisfying beverage.

“It’s because you like him.” Choji smirks, wiggling his eyebrows before ordering another bottle. Two bottles empty and halfway through the third one, I groan as my head slams against the table,” Choji, if I had the capability of liking anyone, why would you assume out of everyone in the leaf, it would be Shikamaru?”

“Because, Shikamaru is the only thing you talk or complain about when you’re drunk, even sober for that matter.” Choji points out, laying down more strips of beef against the barbecue. I bang my head against the table a few more time in frustration,” because that idiot doesn’t leave my head. It’s wrong to think of a friend that way damnit. Especially him.”

The next sentence is the one part I knew Choji took to Shikamaru in confidence,” we’re both too dense to just fuck and get it over with. Besides, sex takes effort and I use enough of that during missions.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before…” Choji laughs, pulling a strip off the grill and finishing off the plate of beef. Everything afterwards is black as my hand reaches to finish the sake straight from the bottle.

“Oh no, he told you.” I groan, burying my head in guilt and embarrassment. Shikamaru only hugs me with a reassuring laugh,” everything.”

“Just wait until you hear what he told me what you said.” I lie, feeling as his breathing stops,” L-listen, when I told him about that little dream, I figured he wouldn’t say anything!”

“Choji didn’t really tell me anything, but now I’m curious about this dream…” I trail off, eyes becoming heavy as a yawn wracks my body.

“That’s a story for another time, we should get some actual bed rest.” He yawns back.

“If I wasn’t so tired, I’d try to argue with you. You win for now.” I mumble out, quickly letting the claws of sleep sink in to me. Before drifting off, I could feel his lips lazily drift across my forehead. I knew in that moment, I was too comfortable to complain or prod even further. I was content with being finally in his arms and getting some well deserved bed rest.

#shikamaru smut #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru imagine #nara shikamaru #naruto fanfiction #naruto imagines #naruto smut #shikamaru imagines #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara #shikamaru fanfiction #shikamaru x you #shikamaru is a lazy king #Shikamaru

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