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fan-goddess · 6 months

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Authors Note: Here’s the final one of your requests sweet anon! I literally started this yesterday so I’m happy with how quick I wrote this! I’ve separated your requests into 3 separate pieces just so it’s easier! Hope that’s okay and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Certainly went more goofy than usual with the tags that’s for sure…

Warnings: P in v sex, public sex, Toms got a hell of a mouth, dirty talk, teasing, unprotected sex, he’s just oozing dominance, overstimulation, he’s cocky as hell, but he gets strangely bashful at the end, he’s gotta low-key breeding kink, and it’s successful, thumb sucking but not your own, degrading I think, praising also, (if I’ve missed any which I don’t doubt I have, then let me know in a way you’re comfortable with)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

The bar was crowded and noisy, as sailors from all ranks spread themselves all throughout the room looking for their next ‘catch of the day’.

You yourself was sitting idly by the bar, sipping your daiquirí whilst your supposed best friend was chatting up some ginger haired sailor with spectacles the size of oranges with vigour. You loved her, you really did, but she really had some unique tastes…

“And what’s a gal like you sitting all by herself in a place like this now?” A voice said, bringing you from your depressive thoughts.

When you turn to him, you’re actually surprised to see a handsome man in-front of you, dressed in his sailors uniform, with a matching hat and a cocky grin painted on his lips to match.

“Well sailor, my mates currently chatting up one of your own. And I’ve been left all on my own…” It’s amusing to you how when you mockingly pout in annoyance for a little added affect, the sailors eyes can’t stop themselves from staring at them, desire clearly swirling within them.

“Well we can’t have that can we now! A beautiful woman should never be without company I believe!” He grins, slyly touching hands with your own so his little finger can caresses your warm skin.

You choose not to answer his statement right away, instead watching with hooded eyes as his own stare pure liquid heat into your whole body, merely at the sight of your lips pursed around the straw of your drink whilst you give a small hum of amusement.

“And what are you going to do about my lack of company sailor?” You grin, placing down your now empty glass to look at him with full attention, resting your head on your hand for that extra effect.

“Well, I’ll be keeping the lady company. In any way she so pleases…” He grins, coming closer to you under the pretence of wiping something away from the corner of your mouth. Only his own mouth opens slightly in surprise and arousal, when your lips move to wrap around his thumb and bite down slightly, before removing it with a slightly wet pop and a cheeky grin.

“Well then, it’s a good thing I know exactly how you’ll be keeping me company, isn’t it sailor boy?” The cheeky carefree grin still drawn on your face.

“Yes pretty woman, it is indeed…”

It’s surprising how calm and aroused you are about fucking an absolute stranger in an abandoned and slightly dirty alleyway behind the bar. But hey, the big wars going on and you have no idea if you may die the next day. Gotta make the most of it right?

“Fuck… such a tight pussy…” The sailor boy groans, the sound alone going straight to your cunt that clenches desperately around his cock.

You have no idea his name, but that strangely makes that it all the more thrilling.

“Oh! So good!” You whine. The grip your nails have on his arms tightening as his teeth sink almost desperately into the skin of your neck. Wanton you cannot control ripping straight from your throat as he does so.

It only gets worse when that same thumb you playfully bit down earlier comes to your mouth once more to collect some of your built up saliva, and skilfully trace circles with it on your swollen clit.

You’ve got to admit, your sailor is nothing but skillful when it’s comes to a woman’s body. Not that you’re complaining of course….

“Can already feel your walls clenching down on me. You want my cum that badly inside you huh?” He huffs, grinning into the skin of your neck as he sucks dark marks you know’ll show up the next morning. It almost makes you forgive the cocky undertones that so clearly shines through.

“It’s okay love, I know you can’t help it when you’ve got a cock this big in your tight little pussy huh? Come on love, fucking cum for me already!”

You didn’t even realise how close you were until he told you. As the moment he said those words with that almost annoyingly deep seductive voice of his, your walls began to clench and your whines become muffled as you try to quieten them down by keeping your head in the curve of his neck.

Yet as you felt the euphoric feeling calm down, you realised he hasn’t even cum yet, and he was still thrusting deep inside of you like it was his last time on earth. Which to be honest, when you thought of this moment later that evening, to a man like him, it very well may have been.

“Awe it’s okay love! You can give me another one can’t you? Let’s see if we can give you another before I cum deep inside you shall we?” The sailor gives you another cocky smirk whilst his thumb still continues to draw small shapes on your clit, and all you can do to respond is whimper slightly whilst nodding your head sluggishly.

The strange buzz you begin to feel throughout your whole body is slightly painful, and yet that feeling mixed with the once again building of pleasure is something you can’t help but find almost annoyingly addictive.

So additive in fact, you can’t help but clamp your teeth tightly onto the plump skin of your lips to keep that delicious mix of pain and pleasure pumping through you.

“Awe, have I fucked my pretty girl dumb? That’s such a shame… still. I gotta tell you this is by far, the best fucking cunt in England” He emphasises his praise with a sharp thrust between each word, and you can’t stop yourself anymore from releasing your lips and beginning to desperately gasp for breath as his cock makes you feel practically breathless as he bullies you with it.

And It’s only worse for you when his cock begins to bully your sweet spot harshly and accurately.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna cum again!” You whine, your eyes screwing shut as you barely manage to get the words out.

“Hey! Eyes on me love!” His hand suddenly withdraws itself from your clits with a slight gasp you realise he’s grabbed your jaw tightly to force your eyes to look into his own, and his thumb covered in your juices is pushed into your own mouth, where you suck almost wantonly at the soaked digit with a whine.

“Yeah, that’s a good girl! Gonna cum deep inside you… and who knows. Maybe I’ll leave you with a going away present!” He chuckles, before his face screws up slightly as you feel yourself cumming around his cock, bringing him to his own orgasm with a deep erotic groan.

The two of you don’t speak for a few moments. Allowing only the sounds of your mixed heavy breaths do the talking as he releases you from his hold and the two of you begin to make yourselves presentable.

Sailor boy only needing to pull up his trousers and redo his belt, whilst you yourself pull up your underwear and adjust the shoulder straps of your dress before wiping away the slight wet trails around your mouth with your sleeves.

You look at him almost shyly as the sudden soberness hits you, whilst his own eyes hold slight sympathy when he looks over the state of your neck. No doubt already bruised and marked for all to see on the way back home.

“My names Tom by the way. Tom Bennett.” He says, finally breaking the sudden build of ice.

You shyly say your own, and a slight blush takes over your face when he repeats it back to you under his breath with a small half smile. As if to test it.

“I’m shipping off next week. Did you uhm, did you wanna maybe go somewhere to eat tomorrow night maybe for dinner? I’d ask if you wanted to go now, but now that I’m looking at you, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe go and rest back at your place first before we did anything…” It’s strange to see your sailor boy, or Tom you suppose, so shy all of a sudden. But still you can’t help yourself from smiling slightly as his much more innocent proposition than the one he gave you back in the bar.

“I’d love to do it tomorrow! I think you’re right. I may need some rest before we go somewhere… still, did you have anywhere in mind to eat?” You ask, preening slightly as he smoothly places him arm over your shoulder almost possessively and leads you out of the alley with a small smile, insisting he walks you to your home.

Whatever you do, no matter how many times you’re asked, you never tell your children this is how you met their father. Nor tell your eldest son this is how he got brought into the world…

#tom bennett/reader #tom bennett imagine #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett x you #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett smut #tom bennett #tom bennet x reader #world on fire smut #world on fire #ewan mitchell character

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thecoffeelovingfreak · 1 month

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𝒐𝒉, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆

pairing: vampire!acheron x gn!reader

genre(s): au (unspecified), light angst, eventual fluff, hints of hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers

word count: 3.4k

warnings: written before acheron's release and v2.1, blood, mild descriptions of violence, slight nsfw (it's just during the bite scene and is nothing too intense)

notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my mind, so I hope you enjoy it! I decided to write this as a chronicle almost, of spontaneous meetings before a more conclusory end. I would be up for a part 2 eventually if you'd like to see it! I should also note that because only her trailers have been released, and this is an au, some elements of her character may be missing or not fully expanded upon, but I hope that doesn't interrupt your reading! :)

Read it on ao3!

~~~

Water trickled down from the murky sky, leaving shadow-wrapped puddles on the stone street. The step of a steady heel interrupted one’s stagnance as a figure emerged unshrouded from the alleyway. Another walked to her right, clothes beginning to soak from the rain. Blood trailed behind them, tainting the clear water with flowing scarlet.

“Why did you follow me?” they queried, pausing to lean against a nearby lamp post.

A violet gaze cast in their direction, yet the woman did not speak. She simply watched her momentary companion wince at the persistent ache of a flesh wound. Her fists tightened at the sight – the innate response to a long-held desire. A rising heartbeat flickered in her ears as she observed the form before her. A quirked brow, torn and stained cloth, a slight shiver from the chilled rain.

Striding forward, she was soon halted by their hand.

“Please, answer me.”

Instead, she took that cold limb in hers and brought it over her head, resting it on her left shoulder. She placed her other arm around their waist, and guided them from the lamp post with careful ease.

Calmly, they walked together.

The storm began to intensify as the wind picked up, flurrying droplets against the pair while lightning crackled across the sky.

“To fulfill my duties.” she spoke, strong and smooth.

“Pardon?”

“Why I followed you.”

“Oh…”

“Those beasts have been permeating the city. I seek to remove them. One had been following you to your destination, and I became involved as early as I could. I apologize for your injury. Had I been sooner it could have been avoided.”

“As long as I remain alive, I will consider you a savior."

She hummed, a calm and thoughtful sound in time with the rolling thunder.

"What constitutes a savior to you?"

A thin burst of light painted the dark sky lavender, casting the surrounding buildings in a haze of purple rain.

“A person who protects others, whether doing so is simple or difficult, and will see their work through no matter the cost.”

“I see… Rest your eyes, we will be at an infirmary soon.”

She felt their head fall on her shoulder, hair tickling against her neck. Their breathing had not yet evened out, but their heart rate had begun steadying.

There was a doctor at the end of the block, seeing patients out of his office and an emergency tent that had been placed on the empty lot next door. This would be the seventh time in three days that she would bring a new victim of the ongoing crisis.

She knocked on his door before being greeted by a disheveled man. He quickly understood the situation and turned back into his practice to grab supplies while she lay them down on one of the beds. A hand grasped hers tightly as she began leaving, walking toward the door.

“Wait…”

Their quiet voice reached her ears and beckoned her back to the bedside.

“Thank you, drifting savior.”

“Acheron.”

A small smile grew on their face. “Thank you, Acheron.”

“There’s no need, but… you are welcome nonetheless.”

“Will you stay here?”

“I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere, but you will see me somewhere in the future.”

“Then I wish you luck and safety in your endeavors, until we meet again.”

—

The weekend market still bustled despite the city’s circumstances. Shoppers in a variety of outfits and colors paced up and down the streets, carding through wares, food, and clothes. A basket rested in the crook of your left elbow as you approached a fruit stand. Greeting the shopkeeper, you asked for a few peaches before perusing through the lemons.

You squeezed each one gently, hoping to find one filled with enough juice to add to a marmalade. When two were to your liking, you exchanged payment with the shopkeep and received your produce bag of white peaches, placing all of your main ingredients into your basket.

Bidding farewell, a flash of familiar violet caught your eye amongst the crowd.

You weaved through the people quickly, hoping to catch up to Acheron. A throb began developing in your side, but you did your best to ignore the increasing pain. Finally, you had the opportunity to meet her again, and in a much less dire setting this time. You watched as she strode with an aloof confidence, the crowd slowly moving out of her way.

When you reached the end of the sidewalk, you had the chance to reach out and tap her shoulder. She turned abruptly and faced you, however, before you could make contact.

“How did you know I was coming?”

“I could hear your footsteps approaching.”

You questioned how with the amount of activity there was. Deciding to ponder it later, you reached into your basket.

“Would you like a peach?”

She looked hesitant for a moment, before lightly shaking her head. “I have already eaten.”

“Alright.”

"How is your injury?"

Her question brought your attention back to the dull ache in your left abdomen.

“It is much better, though it will still become irritated from a lot of activity."

“Let us sit down, then. Hand me your basket.”

“Oh, thank you.”

The cool metal of a nearby bench slowly warmed under the heat of your palms. You sat in silence with Acheron, who was leaning against the back of the bench with one leg crossed over the other. It was not uncomfortable – far from it in fact. You felt safe around her, and resting became much easier.

—

You crossed paths next at a gently lighted bar.

She quietly slid onto the stool beside you, a sharp gaze watching your movements. After taking a sip of your cocktail, you met her eyes.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Of course.”

Rising first, she took your right hand in hers and brought you out to the sparkling dance floor. In a swift motion, you were spun into her arms. Deft fingers grasped your hips, turning you around to face her. She brought your arm up over her shoulder, stepping backwards for four beats before bringing her hand to rest delicately at your nape. Shifting your hand to replicate the same, you placed your other hand at her left elbow, and began shifting rapidly from side to side with each step toward her you took. You remove yourself from her, running your hand down her arm and casting her away in a spin. When she returns, she steps at your right foot, sending it back in a kick before it arrives up at her hip. Her hand cups the underside of your knee as yours sit at the back of her neck. She elegantly drags you backward before letting your foot fall to the floor. After, she sets her left hand on your shoulder, walking around you before stepping away, and spinning back into your hands. You dip her and catch her eyes for a moment, watching a flame stoke behind them.

When you bring her back up, a pair of your hands remain connected until you’re within arms distance of each other. You walk in a circle like this – watching her predatory gaze. It’s not an uncomfortable sensation to be underneath, if anything it makes you want to match her pace more. You come back into her arms, in the same position you started in. Your back is to her front, breathing heavily as her fingers ghost over the site of your injury. Only now do you note it’s stinging tenderness, but it slowly begins to dissipate as she rubs over it. You glide together like this over the floor before she sharply turns you out in the hold of her hand. The scene becomes muddled, but a part of you feels an odd joy at the usually uneasy sensation. When you’re finished, she brings you back to her. Your fingers land awkwardly at her sternum and your dance is complete.

As you catch your breath, you begin to notice the lack of a second heartbeat thrumming beneath your fingers.

Yet, that couldn’t be, right? You were mellowing from the performance, yes, but you still would be able to tell if there was a beat outside of your fingertips. When you caught Acheron’s eyes, you could see what seemed like a cloud of thoughtful storm behind them. Without another word, she left.

You remained on the floor, wondering just what lies underneath her violet gaze.

—

A soft wind blew against your cheeks as you rested underneath a large willow tree. The sky glowed in beautiful warm shades, followed by a vibrant indigo. Flipping a page of your book, you attempted to block out the sounds of the park. Children ran and played together as some walked their dogs. A few people stopped at a stand for snacks while talking or heading home.

A shadow and a wisp of white clothing appeared before you, the color of coming evening blending into her hair.

You closed your book and gave her a small smile. “How have you been?”

She looked in your eyes pensively, before reaching out her hand. “Would you like to go for a walk with me?”

“I don’t see why not.” you replied, taking her hand and standing up.

Together you strolled down the paver path, watching as the street lights turned on. The tip of your shoe caught on one of the uneven layers, causing you to stumble forward. Luckily, Acheron caught you carefully, bringing you to a standing position and helping you regain balance again. You lightly laughed off your blunder, doing your best to calm down again after the momentary scare.

As the moon rose higher in the sky, you felt a tired relaxation start to well within you. When you looked to your left, you realized the opposite could be said for your companion. She seemed alert, and ready for combat if the need arose. Her head nudged to the right, signaling for you to turn there, no doubt so you could go deeper toward the forest and avoid others.

“I apologize for what I must do. Please find somewhere safe until I am finished.”

“It is alright.” you responded, deviating to find a temporary shelter from whatever beast was trailing you.

A grotesque, dripping, jet black creature with multiple ice blue eyes came from seemingly nowhere, with a small group of winged beasts accompanying it. You rushed underneath a bench across the small courtyard space, doing your best to breathe silently but your book fell loudly to the ground. Your eyes met the cold ones of the monster, but a flash of purple soon bloomed as horrible screeches filled the air. A shadow expanded over the scene not long after, removing Acheron and the wretched animals from your field of view.

Although they seemed to be gone, you didn’t dare move.

She emerged not long after, a lovely shade of red disappearing from her arms – yet her hair remained white. Another row of creatures came from the forest, and she fought each one effortlessly with a strength and capability that most would not have. Although, the closer you looked and the more little hordes that came, you could feel a sense of exhaustion coming from her. There were a few hits that she couldn’t dodge in time, and one that looked especially deep from where you hid.

As she dealt a final blow, her breath became heavy. She did her best to walk to you with a stoic air. You quickly left your cover, jogging to meet her where she was and watching as she stumbled forward. Surprised, you caught her in your arms, trying to keep her upright.

—

“Thank you for the concern, Bertha, but there is truly nothing to worry about. Care for a jar of marmalade before you go?”

“Oh, that would be excellent! Thank you very much.”

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbing one jar of the peach spread you made two days prior. Returning to the entryway, you handed it to your neighbor with a smile. After exchanging goodbyes, you shut the door and made your way back to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of clean water.

The door to where Acheron was resting sat half-closed, a sign that she had probably begun leaving before resigning to sit back on the bed. With a gentle kick, it opened all the way and revealed your contemplative… friend, now. After many bedridden chats over the last week, you felt closer than before, even if a chilled distance may still remain.

“How are you this morning?” you questioned, placing the bowl on the bedside table and grabbing a fresh cloth from its drawer.

“Better. There is still a persistent fatigue, however.”

You hummed, “I have noticed you sleeping more. I assume it is not helping, then?”

“You would be correct. I am not sure how much longer I want to stay in this bed.”

“Is it not comfortable?” you teased, walking to her side to remove the bandage on her arm.

“No.” she replied with a hint of a smirk.

“Well then, you’ll just have to start moving to other areas of the house.”

“You want me to follow you around all day?” she quipped.

“Maybe. I wouldn’t be entirely averse to having you with me more often. Our chance visits are beginning to be too little for me, I’m afraid.”

“I guess I will have to fix that. Where would you like me to be?”

You felt a light heat grow in your cheeks, and did your best to keep a straight face as you softly rubbed the wet cloth over her cuts.

“Right beside me.” you whispered.

She hummed, looking almost regretful.

After you finished, you offered her a hand. She took it, and calmly you helped her get to a chair in the small dining area off of the kitchen. Her speed and strength had definitely improved since the first day she woke up. Faint and injured, she had tried to rise and leave, but you stopped her. She needed to rest and be given care for a while. Within the minute, she had already fallen back asleep, and you began tending to her stressed wounds once more.

Her hair has yet to fade from a gleaming white.

Putting a slice of bread in the toaster, you didn’t bother asking Acheron if she would like a piece. In all of the time that you have known her, she has never eaten or drank anything.

“Do you want to ask me something?” she queried, head tilting slightly in your direction.

She always had such attentive hearing – too honed almost. Impressive strength and stamina, something that was almost inhuman. She had no heartbeat that you could sense, either. From all of the tales that you have heard in your life, you could only find one conclusion.

“Actually, I do.” Taking a seat across from her, you folded your hands over the table. “Are you a vampire, Acheron?”

A beat of silence crossed the room before she replied, “How adept of you.”

The toaster popped, and you paused a moment before rising to check it. Placing it on a plate, you opened the butter dish and retrieved a knife before spreading it over your toast.

“You need blood, then, correct? In order to soothe your fatigue.”

“Yes.” she returned simply.

Brushing your fingers on a nearby towel, you slowly strode to her side of the table.

“Use me.”

It was a bold request, and one that she could very possibly turn down. Still, you were going to see her care through to the end. Even besides that, you were starting to consider her a friend.

She seemed stunned, although her face could never communicate the extent of which. As if betraying her features, her hands started traveling around your waist, bringing you slowly onto her lap.

“Are you certain?”

“Of course.”

With no hesitation or restraint, she licked up the right side of your neck, bringing her left hand up to tug at your hair and angle your head over. Your fingers curled into the front of her shirt, one that she had borrowed from you. The tip of her tongue crossed the cusp of your ear, making your grip tighten. Her thumb started rubbing your scalp as she bit down. It burned initially, but within an instant became truly pleasurable. Her lips tightened around her bite as she sucked and licked the area, drawing blood out and leaving you in a daze. One hand remained tightened around her shirt while the other drifted to her hair, holding her closer. Your breath echoed in her ear, one that was likely catching the soft whimpers that left you, only spurring her on more.

Your body moved against her, seeking any more of her you could get. A small nick from one of her teeth made you whine as you repeated the same motion. She did it again. Her other hand fell from your waist to your hip, sliding underneath your shirt and rubbing your lower back. You relaxed into her, sliding your hand further down her body, shifting closer to her as that hand moved to her stomach, stroking underneath the borrowed fabric.

You felt her begin to pull away below your left hand, and so you brought it out of her hair and down her cheek. The white started leaving her hair, but your gaze remained only on her eyes – and the remnants of blood on her lips. In a swift motion, you licked her bottom lip, tasting what she so craved. Before you could shift backward, she tightened her grip in your hair and kissed you with the same passion you danced with weeks ago. She leaned back and you cupped her cheek, bringing your other hand up to her bare waist. Tracing over the cool skin, you remained on her for a small minute before finally, she parted from you.

—

A knock hit your door right before you were set to leave for the day.

When you opened it, none other than Acheron greeted you.

“I remember you dropped this during my battle, so I came to return it.” she stated, handing over your leather-wrapped book.

“Thank you.” you replied, turning away to leave it on the table by the door. When you looked back, she had something else prepared.

“I also wanted to bring you this gift.”

You accepted a white box with purple and red ribbon. A letter rested underneath the bow, and you saved it for last. After undoing the neat package, you opened it to find a well-forged dagger.

“I wanted to give you something to start with, so that if the time comes and I am not there, you will have a weapon.”

It was a beautiful present. A winding snake wrapped around the hilt, its head resting on the tip. It had a sharp shine to it, and weighed light under your hands. It was held in white leather, and displayed a dark metal when you removed it. You would be sure to cherish it.

Exchanging the blade for the letter on the table, you slid a letter opener under the seal and lifted out the paper. While it was not very long, it seemed incredibly heartfelt.

I must start this letter by telling you how much I appreciate all that you have done for me. I am not accustomed to such care, much less the tenderness that you showed me. It is an… odd feeling. But one that I am not very against. Though I cannot say that I can stop my drifting across the country, I can say that I will always return here, to you. I want to stay for the next few months, and teach you some of what I know. I hope you will consider my offer, and me.

Sincerely yours,

Acheron

Wordlessly, you set the letter down and crossed the threshold, placing a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her in a hug. She hesitated at first, but soon crossed her own over your back.

In a whisper, she posed a question. “Will you accept?”

“Of course!” you returned quietly.

“Great. We will begin tomorrow.”

A complementing smile grew on her face, one that showcased a great amount of joy that you had never seen from her before. It was lovely, and you were sure that the next few months with her would feel the same.

#coff writes for hsr 🍾#title is once again from tbh&c #specifically the ultracheese :)#hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr acheron #hsr acheron x reader #honkai star rail acheron #honkai star rail acheron x reader #hsr au

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quickiesgirl · 1 year

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Girls On Film - Robin Buckley

Paring: Mechanic!Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+, Smut, Modern Day AU, Dom/Sub, Nudes, Sexting At Work, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Dirty Talk.

A/N: I’ve had this idea for weeks but barely had the energy to write lately. Hoping to get back on my weekly schedule soon. Thanks for being patient.

Robin slid out from under an older, beat-up truck and lifted from the ground, brushing her hands down the sides of her oil-stained blue jeans.

She leaned back into the tall wooden bench of the little mechanic shop she worked at and picked up her half-empty Coca-Cola can, taking a quick sip of the flat soda while glancing over at the men working to her right.

Her short brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, the sleeves of her blue and black, button-up flannel rolled up her forearm, and a white hand towel hanging from her back pocket.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she undid the top two buttons of her flannel, ready to get out of these clothes and into a nice cool shower with you in her arms. She went into her pocket and pulled out her phone, noticing recent text messages sent from you that she instantly tapped on.

Her pretty blue eyes widened with lust, gawking at the phone in front of her and the explicit pictures she was seeing. Your beautiful tits on full display and your thighs teasingly pressed together, revealing your neatly trimmed bush. You gazed into the camera with those big, submissive “fuck me” eyes you always give her when you're horny.

Robin looked all around her and quickly responded. You sat at the edge of the bed with a mischievous smirk spread across your face as her text bubble appeared.

‘Holy shit, babe, that’s not the best thing to send me when I’m around my co-workers!’

‘Why? I miss you… 🥺’

‘That's obvious, sweetheart. But, I nearly moaned in front of everybody when I opened this.’

‘Aww, you liked it?’

‘Of course, I did, bby. You look fucking beautiful!’

You blushingly smiled and began filming yourself, panning down to your tits that were being cupped and massaged by your hands. You let out little, desperate whimpers and intentionally loud, pornographic moans just to tease the shit out of her.

“Oh fuck…” Robin whispered in a husky tone beneath her breath, keeping the screen close to her as she ogled in silence, admiring how you squeezed at your soft breasts, your nipples erect between your fingers, and your body twitching every time you’d pinch or ghost over them.

Her pussy grew wetter by the minute.

‘I wanna suck on those fucking tits so bad. I can't wait to get home to you, baby girl.’

You passionately tugged on your bottom lip, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Whether it’s in person or through a text message, she always knew how to make you flustered.

‘Are you busy right now, babe?’

‘A little, but why do you ask?’ Robin answered back, knowing damn well what you desired, just wanting to see you admit it.

‘I just wanna watch you play with yourself for a minute, please?’

‘Since you asked so nicely, I'll give you what you want. Just give me a minute, okay?.’

‘Okay, but hurry. I’m needy <3’

Robin decided now would be the perfect time for her break, and after washing her hands with the hose outside the garage, she hopped into her car. Luckily tucked away in the back of the parking lot, behind the other empty vehicles, she had some privacy to sit down and shimmy her jeans and panties down to her ankles.

She pointed the camera down and kept it there while she slowly moved her hands down her full, muscular thighs and drove her fingers through her soaking wet pussy. The chipped, black polish on her nails outlined her pink, fleshy folds before retreating to her small clitoris that pulsated under her touch, which she delicately began to rub.

Her body was melting into the driver's seat as she imagined her tongue licking away your pussy, taking in your sweet aroma with your thighs clenched around her head and your hands buried in her hair, only pushing her deeper.

She moaned your name softly, her blue eyes fluttering from the sensation before pausing the video and sending it your way, not stopping for a single second as she waited for your reply.

You ogled the screen and slipped two digits inside your tight cunt, responding with the other hand while you were knuckles deep, coated in arousal, and stuffed in your leaking pussy, curling against your g-spot with your thumb grazing across your clitoris.

‘fuck, robs, I’m so wet for you.’

Robin's pussy clenched around nothing after reading your message, only imagining how needy she made you and how that addicting taste could be gushing across her lips and tongue.

‘Show me, baby girl.’

You could practically hear the dominants coming out of her, causing you to roughly bite your bottom lip between your teeth and do as told. Propping your phone on a rolled-up blanket in front of you and recording yourself as you spread your thighs open, showing off your aching, swollen pussy just for your girlfriend’s eyes to see.

“I-I wish you were inside me, Robs~ mhm~ I wanna feel your fingers fucking me- and stretching out my pussy. F-forcing me to ride them between your deep thrusts, oh my god.” Your voice shuddered between breathy moans, head falling back in pleasure, and back arching off the pillows that kept you up.

Your girlfriend watched you desperately fuck yourself, already getting closer and closer to the release you so desperately craved.

Fuck, she wanted to be there to take care of your needs and make her baby girl feel so good. But knowing that you, her fucking beautiful girlfriend, was getting off to these little videos drove her wild.

‘please, baby, I’m so close. I wanna watch you cum.’ you begged through your message, making your girlfriend smirk. The thrill of potentially getting caught while she filmed little videos for her girlfriend turned her on so much.

“Such a good girl~” Robin’s lustful gaze eating you up through the phone screen, and her hand building speed against her sensitive bud that she massaged in circles, legs shuddering as the tension in her abdomen grew closer to snapping, thinking about the image of your perfect tits and that beautiful pussy she loved dearly.

Her breathing grew heavy, and her moans grew louder, she wasn’t concerned about someone else hearing instead she was speaking loud as she pleased, “Oh my god baby, look what you do to me, gonna make me cum when I’m supposed to be working... Bet you’re close too, sweetheart, are you gonna be a good girl and- cum for me?... Come on, baby, c-cum for me, cumhm~mh!”

You cried out in pleasure, and your wet plush walls spasmed around your fingers as you dissolved into a lustful orgasmic high, releasing your juices across your fingers. Robin's head pushed back, groaning loudly and experiencing her own euphoria.

She pushed a loose strand of her hair behind the tip of her red, blushed ear that traveled down along to her cheeks before the video ended altogether.

You sent over a picture of the white, milky arousal spilled across your inner thighs and down your ass cheeks. Robin admired the picture with a soft smile, replying back with, ‘Aww, baby, look at the mess you’ve made.’ before saving it to her camera roll.

‘Thank you for letting me cum. <33’

‘Of course, bby! We’ve definitely got to do this more often. I have to get back to work, but I promise I'll hurry up and try to get home to you as soon as possible. ;)’

‘We’ll talk about it when you get home. I love you.’

‘Love you too, sweetheart. ♥️’

#robin buckley #robin buckley smut #robin buckley x fem!reader smut #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things netflix #stranger things #quickiesgirl writing

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e-dubbc11 · 1 year

Text

Afternoon Delight

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Dirty talk, a LOT of it. Reader and Billy both have filthy mouths in this one so 18+ please (no minors or I’m telling), some swear words

Word Count: 1.6k-ish

Summary: Reader is reading and waiting for her boyfriend to bring her lunch in the park. A very handsome man takes a seat next to her, the book she’s reading is one of his favorites.

A/N: This is my contribution to May’s writing challenge over on the Thirsty For Cox discord server. This month’s prompt was sundress season and I honestly didn’t mean for it to get dirty but my brain had other ideas. Oh the book I took the quotes from is The Picture of Dorian Gray. I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

A gentle summer breeze rushed across your exposed shoulders as you sat alone on a park bench reading your book on an early Saturday afternoon. The subtle rustling of the trees above your head prompted you to look up and watch the sun highlight the veins in the leaves as the wind moved them in multiple directions.

The warm afternoon sun shone through the leaves on the trees, drawing attention to bright green patches of grass all over the park. It was a beautiful day.

Your boyfriend told you earlier that morning that he would meet you in the park for lunch and you couldn’t wait to surprise him with the new dress you bought.

Black with white polka dots, adjustable spaghetti straps, long with a deep V-neck and a drawstring closure, it was perfect for a day like today and you were sure he would love it on you.

Continuing to turn the pages of your book, you looked up the walkway and noticed a very handsome man walking toward you wearing a gray suit.

He had ebony colored hair, a short well-groomed beard and as he came closer you noticed his eyes. He had beautiful yet very mysterious deep brown eyes, the kind of eyes you could just get lost in while he was talking to you. They looked like two flat black marbles and they were looking directly at you.

There were empty park benches everywhere, so you didn’t think he would take a seat next to you and yet, he did. As he sat down, he smiled at you. You’ve never seen a more perfect smile on top of an already incredibly handsome face.

He said hello, you said hello back and returned the smile he gave you.

A smile like his could get you into some serious trouble but then he doubled down and opened his mouth to which you heard his soft tone, his voice was smooth like warm honey with a slight New York accent.

“I love that book.” He said.

You almost forgot you were holding a book, he was quite the distraction.

“Me too.” You said. “This is my fourth time reading it. Do you have a favorite part?”

You asked him, hoping to throw him off guard to see if he’s actually read it or if it’s some lame pick up line.

“Well…let’s see.” He said. “There are so many.”

Got him.

“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful.” Chapter 2, page 23

“Oh and…”

“When we are happy, we are always good, but when we are good, we are not always happy." Chapter 6, page 106

The fact that he had those passages memorized, shocked you to your core and you felt slightly embarrassed and ashamed that you doubted him, but it turned you on at the same time.

“I’m sorry, I thought that…” You said.

He interrupted you.

“You thought it was a line, didn’t you.” He said with a sly grin.

Very few people surprised you, especially tall, handsome men just strolling through the park.

“I do apologize Mister?” You asked.

“Russo…Billy Russo.” He said extending his hand for you to shake. “I read that book a lot when I was deployed overseas.”

“Deployed? Wait, lemme guess…” You said as you carefully looked him over from head to toe. “You were a marine.” You were biting down on your lower lip, and fighting the desire to draw him in close by his tie.

He continued to stare at you with those intense brown eyes of his, he could not look away and neither could you. He held your gaze and felt yourself start to blush every time he smiled at you.

“How did you know?” He asked.

“Well…actually, my boyfriend was also in the Marines.” You said in a low breathy tone.

His smile disappeared.

“Well your boyfriend is a lucky man, I’ve never seen a more beautiful smile…on anyone.” He said.

He took the words right out of your mouth, you felt the same way about his smile.

Billy moved his head like it was on a swivel, looking all around him. “So…where is this boyfriend of yours? If you were mine, I’d never let you out of my sight.” He stated.

The struggle to keep from smiling was difficult, and you replied. “Actually, I don’t know. He said he would meet me here for lunch and he’s never ever late.”

You weren’t sure if it was the rays from the sun or Billy that was causing the warmth to rise to your cheeks.

There was something you wanted from Billy but maybe you shouldn’t ask. Although, what harm could come from reading a few pages from your book to you?

There was just something about his voice that was captivating. The way the words rolled off of his tongue was musical and hypnotic, like he was meant to read them aloud.

As he read, he’d glance away from the pages for sentences at a time to look over at you. He had memorized a lot of the passages, staring at you as he recited the words.

At one point, he stopped and lost his place because he was too busy staring at you.

“I’m so sorry.” He said. “I have to tell you, I’m very distracted by this beautiful dress you have on. Although I’m not sure if it’s the dress or the woman wearing it, maybe it’s both. I can’t believe your boyfriend let you leave the house without him, lookin’ like that. Every man that walks by this bench is having the same thoughts as I am.”

Trying to swallow the lump in your throat, the ache between your thighs grew hungry for him.

“Oh? And—what sort of thoughts would those be, Mr. Russo?” You whispered.

“Impure ones.” He hissed as he looked you up and down.

Your fingers lightly danced across the glowing skin on your chest and moved up to rub the back of your neck as his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip.

“Thoughts of taking you back to my place, hiking that dress up over your hips and fucking you so hard you can’t walk right tomorrow, pinning you against the wall, and having your legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper into that sweet pussy of yours. I wanna hear you scream my name over and over again until your voice cracks, and I bet you’d look really pretty sitting on my dick.”

Gently, he touched your bare shoulder, and brushed the warm soft skin of your arm with his calloused fingers, those words sent shivers down your spine despite the hot afternoon sun.

Shuddering at those sinful thoughts, you leaned in to him so your face was closer to his yet your bodies remained apart and whispered against his mouth. “Is that right? Anything else?” You asked before sucking on his bottom lip.

“Or just ripping it off of you because it covers that gorgeous body of yours, then using it to tie you to the bed so I can look at you all spread out, ready to take my cock. Those are the kind of thoughts I’m having.”

A bead of sweat had dripped from your neck down your chest and in between your breasts, your panties were soaked from listening to Billy describe what he wanted to do to you, and if he wanted to fuck you right there on that park bench, you would probably let him.

“Maybe I’m having similar thoughts.” You said softly. “Maybe I want to see you on your knees in front of me, your head underneath my dress, and your tongue fucking me until I can’t see straight.”

You were so distracted by him, you forgot why you were sitting on that bench in the first place.

He inched closer to you so his thigh was touching yours, the look in his eyes was primal, his long slender fingers touched the side of your face, his other hand grazed the top of your breast and then he pushed some of your hair back behind your ear so he could whisper to you.

“Role playing is fun, isn’t it sweet girl. I don’t even need to touch you to know how wet you are for me. Love the new dress. I know I was supposed to bring lunch but I didn’t think there would be a snack waiting for me when I got here.” He said with a devilish smirk and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

You reached out to brush his beard with your thumbs and let out a little chuckle. “Wow…And I thought I’ve heard every cheesy pick up line there is, my love. Are you done flirting with me? Where’s my lunch?”

Billy held up one finger. “Number one, I’ll never stop flirting with you, number two, you’re wearin’ MY lunch…and I promise I’ll get you something to eat, but I need to get you home now otherwise we’re both getting arrested for indecent exposure.” He said with a wink. “I held out as long as I could. I’m pretty sure I flatlined when I first saw you. You look fuckin’ hot, baby.”

You leaned in close and gave him a hungry kiss, your tongue twisted with his and your teeth nipped at his lower lip which made him absolutely feral for you.

“Well let’s go home then, Mr. Russo and don’t forget our book.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @simple-lovebot @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

#billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo smut #billy russo #billy russo x you #thirsty for cox may challenge #thirsty for cox writing challenge #tfc challenge

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thatone-brightstar · 10 months

Text

Before You (Carmen Berzatto X Fem!OC)

It was Isaac before Carmy, and it was Ross before you.

Read part I.

Part II: January.

words: 3.4k

a/n: Thank you all so much for 200+ followers!!! Idk what to do in these situations but I'll celebrate by giving you more Carmy content! Slide into my dms with your prompt ideas and I'll gladly do my best to write what I can! Also: Image does not represent OC's skin type, just needed a summary pic. WARNING: Smut ahead, p in v unprotected sex (birth control is present but not mentioned), minors DNI but you'll do what you want so don't say I didn't warn you

This was not how she expected her New Year to go, dress hiked up to her hips, nails digging into his neck and shaking thighs painfully wrapped around the man continuously slamming into her. The lewd sounds he makes reverberate inside the small depot, echoing back into her dew covered skin and fueling the shivers traveling up and down her spine. Ross has always hated her name, but the way Carmy says it- blissed off his mind, crimson cheeks and pink pouty lips rounding over each syllable and followed by a breathy ’fuck’- god does he make it sound devine.

Her nails drive deeper into his reddened flesh and the pain of her grip tightens his fingers over the plush skin of her parted thighs. The flimsy fabric that barely covers her navel lets him see himself lost with each thrust, sight replaced with a gripping sensation, choking him with his own air.

There was something cathartically thrilling about their… situation. The sneaking around, the lingering stares each time she crossed to the depot and the tauntingly short uniform that made him visibly gulp. It all brewed thick inside his gut like he’d never known, the warmth of her lips weeks before had shaken the loose earth over his buried desires and there was no way he would get his fill from just the one time.

Unbeknownst to them, they had fallen into a clandestine rhythm. After closing, Ross would get in her car, drive a few blocks away and wait for Carmen in the warm comfort of the vehicle. Her pulse always quickened in anticipation around the ten minute mark, when she’d spot him in the rear view mirror, blowing smoke into the wind and hair disheveled after a hectic service. The drive to his felt longer each time, anticipation thick and pulsing in the empty space. They could never reach his place though, once she parked on the narrow alley beside his building, his fingers would wrap around the side of her jaw and her breath would be stolen by hungry tobacco scented kisses. She enjoyed the feeling of his needy hands circling her hips and pulling her over him, before his mouth attacked the frail skin of her throat.

But tonight felt different to her. The frustrations of a shitty service had Carmen on edge and he didn’t even give her a chance to leave as she popped her head into the empty kitchen to say goodbye. Instead wrapping his grip around her wrist to drag her into the small room and pinning her against a shelf with the strength of his panting chest. His usual doubtful behavior is replaced by strong and steady thrusts, ones that have the glass olive oil gallons behind her vibrating angrily. Her worry of them braking only lasts a few seconds, soon being pushed out of her mind by the constant pattern of his movements and the tightness inside her that’s beginning to burn.

“Fuck- Ross-” He moans into her neck as he speeds up his slams, breath blowing cold over the sweat on her skin.

The relentless strike of his hips on the base of her thighs paints the sensitive skin with a light shade of pink, causing a hiss from her when he readjusts his grip over the slick flesh.

“S..sorry- you good?” Carmen asks with slight concern, slowing down his movements and gulping the dryness in his mouth.

“Ye-yeah-” She reassures with a panting grin, eyes slightly glossy and mascara staining her bottom lashline. “Keep going, I like it…”

“Oh.. yeah- right okay.” Her bluntness gives him a blush that matches the underside of her thighs before resuming with a brutal blow, ripping a gasp from her lungs and making her breasts jolt with force.

Ross’ fingers tangle in the sweaty strands of his hair and pull him down to her awaiting lips, licking and nibbling over the delicate skin while his hands dent the muscle of her legs and his actions grow faster each time. With a string of groans pouring from her chest, she does her best to chase his hips with her own, striking a perfect spot each time. Her feet hook tightly at the base of his spine and this restricts his actions into shorter and faster shoves against that specific, beautiful spot that seems to split her in two.

An almost filthy cry bursts out when her orgasm shoots up from deep in her core, sparking in each nerve ending in her body and his hand flies quickly up to it to drown out the obscene sound. The remaining force in his last thrusts carries her back down into her body just in time to feel his fingers dig into her bruised skin. A throaty groan blows heavily over her collar bones before he slumps down completely with heavy inhales. She likes this part, when his shoulders lose tension and the beating of his heart doesn’t palpitate as hard against her chest.

He pulls out with a soft hiss but rather than make an effort to step away from the momentary comfort she provides, Ross feels his thumb brush gently over the red dents he produced; a clear contrast from a few minutes before. She tries to remain quiet so as to not ruin the moment he seems too caught up in, but his tender touch pulls an invisible string deep inside her and the fear of unwillingness to anything remotely close to a relationship triggers her mouth before she can stop it.

“You’re gonna leave a mark…”

“Hmm?” He pulls his head up to meet her eyes, bright pools of aquamarine absorb the little saliva left in her tongue and she swallows drily again and again.

“Your fingers…” She clears her throat. “They’re, uh, they’re gonna leave a mark.” Though that’s not really what she originally meant.

**********

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me!”

“No!” Ross groans towards her friend, trailing behind her as they both cross the entrance to the back of house.

The regularly hectic movement in the kitchen seems less so as service isn’t due for another few hours. There’s a thin layer of peace visible in the rounded backs of a few cooks as they ingest family, elbows glued to the long stainless steel tables. Ross moves to the water filter beside Frank’s station, ignorant to the glance he throws her way, but very present in Meg’s eyes as she gasps.

“Wait, was it Frankie? D’you finally cave?” Meg whispers beside her.

“Ugh, gross no. I’d rather stick hot coal in my mouth…”

“Okay, then who?”

Ross rolls her eyes once again. “I’m not telling you, alright?! So just- hop off my dick.”

“Oh c’mon, he had to be good if he left bruises like that…”

Meg leans down to inspect the lilac dents peeking ever so slightly from under the hem of her uniform. A hiss leaves Ross’ mouth and she immediately reaches down to swat her friend’s pointed finger off the darkest spot.

“All I’m sayin’ is, every artwork needs the artist’s signature.” Meg grumbles beside her.

“What artist?” The cook intervenes as he pokes around his own plate.

“Ross has a new boy toy and she won’t tell me who it is…”

She keeps her eyes trained on the slowly filling bottle, trying hard to tune out the teasing from the two idiots behind her.

“Y’know she won’t shut up ‘till you tell her, right?”

“I’m just hoping for her batteries to run out.” She assures with a flat smile, taking a sip from her bottle and leaning on the table in front of her.

“I thought you’d be more interested…” Meg teases, picking a piece of dried tomato from his plate and nibbling it through her smile.

She can see a slight tension in his jaw before he shrugs, eyes heavy on his dish. “We’ll find out eventually…” He answers under his breath, the words making Ross’ brows furrow.

“Meaning…”

Frank sighs and pushes his forearms off the table, finally looking up at her. “I mean- c’mon Ross, we know your type- plus, if it was one of these motherfuckers-” his fork drags pointing at the few cooks in the room. “-which it probably was- you know none of ‘em can keep their fuckin’ trap shut.”

If his comment struck a nerve, left it beaten and pulsing in agony, she doesn’t let it show. Instead, she rolls her eyes one more time and gulps down her water, drowning the many colorful swears with his name written on them. A prickling sensation covers her skin, the grip on her bottle going loose when she catches his persistent gaze falling heavily on her from across the kitchen. It washes over her for a few tender beats, and the water in her bottle no longer seems sufficient to cool the heat his strong stare ignites in her stomach.

Carmy doesn’t mean to stare, his eyes had just wandered, obliviously guided by the source of her vibrant voice, the private conversation not so private in the confinements of the blinding white room. A strange sensation flourished in his chest when Megan mentioned the bruises he had previously apologized ardently for and could hear Frank’s slight annoyance at them.

He doesn’t dislike Frank per se, he finds him irritating and obnoxious at times sure, but not to the point of hate. Right now however- as he appears completely entranced by her- Carmen can’t help the irritation beginning to course through him from the words he overheard. He knows they’re bullshit- the idea to expose her in such a way had no space inside his mind, Carmy isn’t like that- and with his own eyes roaming her tense features, he hopes that in the few seconds he allows himself to sneak a look, she can catch that. The unspoken assurance that she can trust him to keep whatever they have going on a secret.

“- are you even listening to me?”

Her friend’s voice demands Ross’ attention and he drags his eyes away, setting them back on the paper thin sweet potato slices gliding off the sharp edge of the mandolin.

“What- yeah, um… something about… your hair?”

“No dumbass- your psych exam, how’d it go?”

Despite his heavy attention to the task at hand, his ears can’t help but to tune back into the conversation as her sigh floats thick in the air of the kitchen.

“Failed it again… which is- fine-” She groans and reaches her hands to rub up her face in frustration. “-but that blows my second try so I only have one left or I’ll have to redo the whole course.”

Meg frowns up at her and reaches a hand to stroke over her arm. “You’ll do fine on the last one, I’ll help you study.” She offers with a kind smile. “Next one’s the good one… you’ll see.”

“Yeah… I guess'' Ross replicates her friend’s expression and takes another sip from her bottle, only half heartedly believing her.

“Yeah- we’ll both help you.” Frank adds, reaching his own hand beside Megs, a sly expression turning hers into distaste.

“Chef-” Three heads turn to the far left to see Carmen’s usual serious expression, making Frank immediately straighten his posture. “If you’re done fuckin’ around, that duck amuse in the walk in isn’t gonna confit itself-”

“Yes, Chef- sorry.”

“Thank you!”

Frank briskly picks up his half finished plate and disappears around the corner with a quick step, barely having time to throw them an irritated expression.

She feels it before seeing him. Only a wisp of white and blue flashes in her peripheral vision before he disappears behind her, the warmth of his extended digits pressing gently on her lower back and a soft ‘behind’ blowing on her exposed neck. Ross turns just in time to catch the artist’s eyes lingering on her for a sliver of a second, but it’s more than enough to spread a tingling sensation over the blossoming bruises. She doesn’t notice the change in rhythm inside her chest or the soft sigh that he pulls from her as he moves further away.

Meg’s voice is barely audible behind the thin ringing in her ears and it’s only then that Ross notices she’s been staring down the empty space of the corridor, Carmy long gone.

“What the fuck was that?”

It’d be a blatant lie to say she knew either. The way her hands had suddenly gone all clammy and her stomach had dropped to her knees with a simple touch was not characteristic of her usual hookups. The day prior’s fear resurfaces again and the erratic beating takes another definition as she swallows hard and turns to Meg with a thin lipped smile.

“That was um… the artist.”

**********

Roslyn never wanted a relationship, she didn’t need to be in one to know they were shit. All the effort it took to maintain a façade of contentment and joy just for it all to crumble down into nothing, made every cell in her body recoil in disgust. Besides, nothing ever made her believe in the fairytale and every couple she met while growing up seemed completely tired of each other's company. Why would she ever want to put herself through that most ancient form of torture? For what, just to not be alone?

Big whoop. She’d been alone most- if not all her life- and from the vast experience could confidently say it wasn’t as bad as people made it seem. Her own company was a hundred times better than some of the questionable creatures she found herself roped with.

Yet, despite all the reminders and admonitions that she ‘wasn’t made for that kind of thing’ and to ‘just leave what isn’t for you alone’, Ross could not contain the tumultuous thoughts banging heavily around her skull.

The shift had gone by quickly as she spent more than half of it in her head, finally clocking off autopilot once the crisp air brushes past her cheeks at the employee exit. The air comes with the lingering wisp of tobacco. Ross tries to disguise how accustomed she’s grown to the smell, breathing in deep and walking slowly in his direction. She throws a nod to her right, where Carmen stands leaning on a tree.

“Hey…”

“How was your shift?” He asks a bit awkwardly, pushing himself off and dragging his feet beside her.

“Fine, I think-” Ross stops abruptly.”-hey, is it alright if we like, don’t do anything tonight-”

“Oh shit- no I wasn’t here for-”

“It’s just, my head kinda hurts and-”

“Yeah, I get it- I wasn’t-”

“I also haven’t eaten so-”

“-I can make you some…thing.”

The silence is filled by tension as his words linger heavy in the air. They slipped past his mouth without contemplation and now weigh more with each second she doesn’t respond. Words turn to dust in the back of her throat- scratchy and uncomfortable- while she tries to come up with a lie on why she wouldn’t find it absolutely appealing to be cooked for.

“It’s okay, you spent the whole day cooking- you don’t have to….”

“I don’t mind it.” He’s soon to assure, keeping his eye contact despite the sharp shake of his head.

Her fingers grow sensitive at the constant assault of her nails, she huffs out a small breath of air and looks up at him. She can only hold Carmen’s strong stare for a few seconds, eyes wavering instead on the treetops above his head.

“No one’s ever really made me dinner before.” Ross delicately whispers her confession.

His offer’s dissected in her head for what feels like an eternity while he just waits in place, knuckles cracking at his sides. A slow smile finally covers her face, nodding gently to him.

“Okay…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He offers what she has come to know is his soft smile, at least what she can see of it under the dim lighting of the street lamp. The clouds of vapor emanating from both their chests pull her from the unintentional staring contest and she makes a following motion to him with her head.

“I-um- I left the car that way.”

“Right- yeah- okay.” Carmy’s nervous stutter widens her grin.

They begin to walk the few blocks in silence, he’s concentrated on the surrounding ambience- second cigarette in hand- while she attempts to ignore the alarms she has strategically set out, all in the name of self-preservation.

‘It’s just dinner’, she repeats to herself. ‘It doesn’t mean anything’.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He speaks out, pulling her from her head. “And you can totally tell me to fuck off-”

“Probably will, but shoot-” She adds with a light laugh, tired eyes concentrated on their path.

He contemplates his words for a second, the dim roar of tired engines penetrating their small bubble of peace.

“So you really hate your job-”

“Ooh, hate is not a strong enough word-”

“-Okay, so you loathe your job-”

“There you go…” Her humorous smile triggers his usual small one, the tiny dimple on his left cheek guest starring just briefly but she takes a short second to admire it fully.

“Why do you stay?”

Ross contemplates his question while she plays with the strap of her bag, debating between the option she’s always used to deflect any sort of question, or to undust and pop the lock on the box where her truths lay hidden.

“Well you see, I have this horrible habit where I have to eat and-”

“Oh, fuck off- I’m serious.” His laugh is brief but genuine and it shudders something deep within her- it vibrates through her ribs and changes the tempo in her chest- an earthquake came and gone.

A slight sense of panic trails behind her external joy, looming just out of sight but present still. She sighs and gulps the tightness down, turning to the empty street before them.

“I wasn’t supposed to be there this long.” Ross finally confesses loud enough so he can barely hear her. “I'm majoring in psychology…”

“So this is temporary?”

“Yeah…” She sighs again, picking at the gel polish she gets specifically to avoid the bad habit. “It’s supposed to be, but I’ve been trying to get my license and failed my exams twice. I only have one more chance before I have to retake the course all over again.”

He’s silent for a while, staring at the grimey ground and searching his head on what to say. “I was always shitty in school… but maybe I can like, try and help you study? Some say it helps explaining it to someone else.”

Carmy’s voice falls into a whisper with the last sentence and draws her gaze away from her fingers and up to his concentrated one.

The way his attention falls solely on her- eyes never straining far from her own- heightens her senses and chills her skin past the warmth of her coat. All she can muster is a thin smile, because anything bigger would trigger the lever that’s already too tight.

“So psychology?” He changes the subject.

“Yeah, the-uh- child kind.” She awaits the usual taunt that comes with her answer- the ignorant thought that ‘why would children even need a psychologist?’- but it doesn’t. When she looks in his direction, it isn’t there either and she can’t decide if what he’s giving her is worse.

“That sounds pretty cool.” He says instead.

Ross’ brows twitch up momentarily, awe visible only for a few worthy moments. “Yeah it… it is.”

And says nothing else.

‘Don’t read too much into it’ Ross repeats to herself, as many times as needed to push out the ridiculous thought of anything more than what it is- just a casual thing- out of her head, on the drive to his place.

**********

Part III.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat, @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 and that’s it lmao

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gliphyartfan · 7 months

Text

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa @justanerd1

Hey! Hi! Hello! How's the weather?

Oh look! I seem to have dropped a part of dear old Warrior's rewrite! What's this? A part two? To think, such a thing was rattling in my drafts!

I had no idea!

...

....

......😀

....Anyways-

The scent of the Great Sea was unique compared to any oceans Warriors passed through.

In the past or in the present.

Such a scent was like any other when visiting the sea. Yet there was a certain level of 'Other' that the Captain tended to notice when near anything connected to that era.

A scent that tended to follow the Hero of the Great Seas in the same way the scent of steel and blood followed Warriors through battle.

So it wasn't hard to catch such a scent through the smoke, steel, and fire as he raced through the Forsaken Fortress.

It didn't take long before Warriors spotted him, no surprise given that the trail of felled monsters left in his wake.

The boy didn't look in his direction, focusing on cutting down the last crowd of monster within the vicinity.

"Hero of Winds." He spoke calmly, his voice echoing across the now empty space between them.

Even from the distance he stood, he could see the way the Sailor's shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice, though quickly recovering.

"Hero of Warriors," The Sea Hero quietly said in reply, turning to greet him as he approached.

It was odd to Warriors, seeing the brightness of the usually cheerful boy so muted, to see his eyes so dimmed and cold. To see his tunic weathered, torn and stained.

But it was no surprise really, give all that they've been burdened with up to this point.

As Warrior watched his sword brother approach as well, he couldn't help a small smile that tugged on his lips. It wasn't a lie when he said he missed him.

He missed all of them, but reuniting with even just one of them was blissful in its own right.

It was only once he was within reach of the Sea Hero did they both stop. Eyeing one another calmly, intently.

Warriors could feel a sense of tension in the air, a weight that seemed to hang over them.

The Sea Hero was the first to break the silence, looking away, his voice low and guarded. "We can speak more later, there is still Gohma to deal with-"

"I killed it. I wonder why it was still alive though, given that we both know you have the strength to kill both it and Helmroc King before I ever showed up," he replied, his voice steady. "You just wanted to see if I would show up like last time."

The Sea Hero inhaled sharply, his head snapping back to him, wide eyes quickly fixating on Warriors.

Warriors could see a storm within his eyes, a hunger that came with the desire for truth. The danger that came should that hunger not be sated.

A look he was sure he himself had many times through this war. Before reuniting with Fi.

"It's been a while...Wind." He reached up and place a hand on the sailor's trembling shoulder. "I didn't expect you to actually leave such an simple enemy alive for as long you have." He smirked softly.

"Losing your touch?"

"...In another life such a 'simple enemy' would have caused both of us severe trouble," he said, his voice low and filled with emotion. "I just wanted to see how you handled it." He smirked, but it was wobbly. "To make up for lost time."

"In annoying me?" He joked. Wind huffed a laugh before bowing his head and clearing his throat.

Warriors nodded, looking away, up at the sky. "I understand what you mean though. I've been wanting to see everyone too." He said quietly.

"It's been so long since we last saw each other."

His gaze snapped down to the younger, smiling while taking a slow step forwards. "I missed you dearly Wind."

They stood in silence for some minutes, simply staring into each others eyes. Neither daring to move further away.

They had been apart for only a few years, for Wind at least, it was luck that Warriors didn't have to suffer long without the knowledge of the others.

He did not envy his pain, nor the pain the others must be suffering right now. All alone without the assurance that Warriors, and now Wind, shared.

That his sword brother remembered everything, just as he did.

In a way, it wasn't something either of them could truly process, not until a moment passed.

In an instant, they pulled each other in a tight embrace.

Neither cared that their hair was coated with soot and monster blood, or their skin had been torn, scraped and burnt as they fought the countless enemies across the battlefield.

In this moment, they were reunited.

"It has been...far too long," Warrior sighed after pulling away a bit, only to rest his forehead against Wind's, looking deeply into those brightening eyes. "How have you been my brother? What has changed for you? Have you met with any of the troops?"

Wind shook his head. "When my era connected to yours, I immediately came here when I saw your troops." he answered, before grinning a bit. "I mean, as you said, I can handle these brutes just fine. So waiting here wasn't much trouble."

His face gained a slightly mischievous look. "Well...it wasn't much trouble for me..."

Warrior snorted. "Of course not, you're a Hero of Courage, what hero doesn't enjoy senseless battle from time to time?" Wind laughed lightly at that, sounding brighter as the conversation continued.

"Well, it seems our Goddess wanted us together again," Warrior grinned, giving the shorter boy an affectionate squeeze. "Though I suppose you'll head home after all this is over, so this reunion is only brief." he sighed.

He knew Wind was aware that he would be forced to wait in the past after the war ended. But it didn't change the fact that it was a cruel punishment.

But at the same time, they both knew it was necessary.

Wind gave him a sad smile. "It would seem so, yes," his face fell, but then he smiled brightly again. "But...for now, we're together again, even if for a little while."

"For a while," Warrior agreed. A smile spreading across his face as he felt a part of him settle peacefully.

Reuniting with Fi made this war far more bearable then he had expected.

But reuniting with Wind, his sword brother, one of the few he trusts with his true self.

That brought a sense of peace that only reuniting with their Goddess could eclipse.

"You know, I noticed certain people still alive that I was sure wouldn't have lived this long" Wind mentioned after they pulled away.

"Mind answering why?" Warriors hummed at that and crossed his arms.

"Well...the official answer is simply that they are my fellow soldiers and it is my duty to protect them." He answered solidly.

Wind raised an eyebrow at that response, "...and the real answer?"

Warriors tilted his head and looked at the sailor directly in the eye.

Wind could see a coldness seep in that only comes when speaking of those who have committed offenses against their beloved.

The unquenchable desire to eliminate all who had offended Her. Regardless of whether they recalled their crimes of another time period or not.

What a familiar and comforting sight it was to the sailor.

"Because what better way to bond with my brothers than working together to eliminate those offenders?"

Wind's smile held amusement, his eyes held anticipation and approval.

"You really waited up for us, didn't you." Warriors shrugged at that with a grin.

"Wanted to see if you specifically kept your skills sharp."

"Sharper than yours!" Wind retorted reflexively.

Warriors threw his head back and laughed freely.

Despite the separation, it was seamless the way they interacted again, as if no time passed at all.

Yes, he had missed this dearly.

#linked universe #yandere linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #loz #lu wind #lu warriors #ttau rewrite #rewrite #part 2 #part 3 coming when I finish the other rewrite #three guesses who's up next

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sleepy-wyvern · 1 year

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Can I request some smut with Eddie, where he’s not quite a virgin but he’s very inexperienced and him and reader have been together a good chunk of time. They are finally getting down to business and Eddie is so unsure of himself, but he’s hitting the most wonderful spots, but he keeps slowing and questioning reader if he’s good and if she’s okay and she’s just like “shut up, don’t stop, fuck me” not in a mean way just that she needs Eddie sooooo bad

Thanks so much for the request darling! What a fun idea <3 and tbh this prompt is definitely a head canon, he would completely act that way! I've literally been writing fan fics for hourrrrs and I proofread it but I hope it sounds legible lol. Hope you enjoy thanks so much for sending a request! <3

Dinner and a Movie | Eddie Munson x female!Reader Smut <3

Synopsis: Tag along on a drive in movie (horror!) date while you’re a bundle of nerves about planning yours and Eddie’s first time.

SMUT! 18+ Only, please DNI if you are a minor!

Tags: inexperienced sex, couch sex, vanilla, fingering, p in v, condom, pet names: darling, sweetheart

Words: ~4.8k, AO3 link here

Tonight’s the night you were finally going to have sex with the one and only Eddie Munson.

Your stomach was an empty pit of nerves and butterflies fluttering against your rib cage. It seemed a good idea at the time, to mutually decide to take your relationship slow and steady. You hadn’t wanted a relationship centred around just sex, yet today that’s all you could think about.

You and Eddie have been dating a while now and it wasn’t hard to tell he was the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. He hates to see you sad, whenever you were even a little discontent he worked so hard to make you happy. Stupid, goofy jokes and gags even in public just to make you laugh. Snacks and your favourite food and movies whenever you were too depressed to get out of bed.

Well now you couldn’t sit still, bouncing your leg as you sat on the edge of the bed staring blankly into your closet.

What the hell do I wear? Is there a designated first-time-having sex-with-my-boyfriend outfit?

Staring at yourself in the mirror you can’t help but be critical of yourself as he’ll see you naked in merely hours.

Eddie assured you that he would follow your lead in the relationship, taking things as slow or fast as you wanted to. He really was fine with anything either way, you treasured that knowing it wasn’t always the easiest thing to find in a guy.

Regardless, you hadn’t told him yet but you planned on initiating more than your usual steamy make outs tonight. Your body couldn’t take it anymore, after last night when you kissed in his van your thighs were soaking. The way he tasted lingered on your tongue, planting himself deep inside you. Your dreams were filled with desire for him. You couldn’t wait any longer, calling him as soon as you woke up to plan a date tonight.

“Hey,” his sleepy voice answered the phone, slightly raspy which made things worse in a beautiful, wonderful way “everything alright?” you could almost feel his large brown eyes looking at you through the phone.

“Yeah, everythings perfect,” you press your lips into a tight line nervously, receding into the soft security of your bed sheets. “I was uh, just wondering if you wanted to do something tonight.”

You heard a slight ruffling noise, presumably from him shifting his position, “of course I would. Did you want to do anything in particular?”

Your mind blanked and you answered honestly, “I have no idea. I just wanted to be with you.”

He chuckled into the phone making you shiver “well, dinner and a movie?”

“Cheesy,” you smile into the phone.

“I mean, both at once,” he continues.

“Oh?”

More ruffling from his end of the line before he replies “The drive in movie theatre, they’re playing a scary movie, your favvvooourrrite” he teases trying to make it sound more appealing. Truth be told, he didn’t need to play it up for you, you loved the idea.

He answers for you “I’ll pick you up at 7, good spots are taken early” the confidence in his voice makes you giddy like your crushes you had as a teenager.

“Sounds like you have that all figured out then,” you twirl your hair around your finger making a small curl.

The entire Saturday you couldn’t sit still. You puzzled for nearly an hour on what to wear, your spotify playlist beaming in your ears.

“Fuck it,” you sigh grabbing ripped jeans, a Metallica t-shirt, and your favourite underwear set, hidden beneath your outfit.

You fussed with your hair, trying to make it look as effortless as possible, yet with a shit ton of effort. You knew Eddie didn’t care- you could show in pyjamas or hell, even naked and he’d be happy. Maybe too happy.

The time seemed to go both fast and slow until 7 rolled around. You had been waiting all day for this yet your body jumped as the door knocked. You open the door to see him standing there, hair pulled back into a sweet, casual messy bun with wild strands framing his face. In his hands he held some flowers, looking down at them you blush.

“What’s the occasion?” You ask after thanking him, taking them from him after letting him in.

He folded his arms, leaning back against the wall watching you look for a vase “Do I need one to give my girlfriend flowers?”

You glance back at him seeing his cocky smile “if you were a normal guy” you reply hauling out an old vase.

You fill it high with water, placing the flowers in carefully as he speaks “Well I’m everything but normal.”

The purple, pink and white flowers rest lazily in the vase, creating an ornate centrepiece for your kitchen table.

You walk up to him wrapping your arms around his torso in a tight hug. You could feel his heartbeat as you pressed your chest into his, the thumping rising the longer you stayed there.

“Thank you,” You murmur, “they’re beautiful. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

You looked up at him and you knew he didn't need reassurance to act himself, but it felt nice for him to hear that you liked him just the way he was and accepted his differences. He kissed the top of your head, running his hand along your upper back.

“Let’s go, there’s some popcorn calling my name,” you smile against his chest before you pull back to put your shoes on.

“Don’t forget the mysterious cant-legally-call-it-butter popcorn topping” he laughs at his own joke quietly and you roll your eyes.

“It must be made with drugs,” you say, fixing your shoes.

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” he agreed, “are you ready?” He whispered.

You nod “I think so.”

Music blasted through the radio as he drove you in his esteemed van, windows down and wind cooling your nerves. Although his driving was reckless, you loved riding in the passenger side, sitting back listening to music with him next to you. The epitome of summer, and of near meditation, stripping any stress off of your body. Before you knew it, the van slowed to a stop as he paid for your tickets.

“Thanks Eddie,” you spoke as soon as you drove away from the ticketer.

“For what?” He asked and you knew he wouldn’t accept thanks for paying for the ticket.

You turned your head to watch him concentrate on the road, and to find a parking spot. His brows are furrowed as he squints looking around.

“For everything,” you reply and he looks at you, confused for a moment.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything, sweetheart” he leans towards you to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re watching?” you ask just now realising you have no idea what movie you’re going to see.

He pulls into a parking spot where you both have a nice view of the screen, white against the setting sky, “Nope. You’ll have to find out the hard way” he grins.

You and Eddie make your way to the concession stand as you were sure he wouldn’t add enough mysterious topping to your popcorn, despite insisting he knows how much you like. While waiting for your turn for the gooey goodness, he practises throwing popcorn up in the air, one piece at a time trying to catch it in his mouth.

“Eddie,” you scold as he finally catches one, unable to keep a wide goofy grin off of his face while he chews.

You smack him lightly on the chest while he laughs at you “Eddie,” you repeat “they’re going to kick us out!”

He rolls back on the balls of his feet, careful not to spill the popcorn. Clearly he wasn’t made for standing still. It made things like waiting in line more interesting though, as he found new ways to make you laugh, hopefully without getting you both kicked out on date night. It didn’t take too long to get your turn, and you returned back to his van with your haul in your arms. Darkness spread further in the horizon, only a faint line of sun remained and you knew the movie would start soon.

“Okay so I lied,” he said in between chips “nachos and popcorn isn’t exactly the best meal…” he trailed off.

“Actually I love it. Everyone’s childhood dream honestly” you smile warmly at him, taking a chip and dipping it in the cheese sauce.

The screen lit up as the projector flickered to life. Eddie moved his hand quickly to the portable radio, switching the dials until tuned into the correct station, flipping through some music and news broadcasts as he did.

You watch the screen as crickets chirp and campfire music starts playing through the speaker and you almost whip your head over to smile at him “Friday the 13th!” You cheer.

“Shhh,” he said with a smirk “no talking at the movies,”

You throw a piece of popcorn at him before looking back at the screen; Camp Crystal Lake 1958.

Eddie turns to you mimicking the ch ch ch ha ha ha of the music.

“No talking!” You scold.

After swallowing some popcorn he answers “hey, that was humming and that’s much better than their singing.”

You laugh, batting at him, “that’s talking!”

“Shhh, you’re going to miss the sex scene,” he teases, making you roll your eyes.

All it made you think of was what you had planned for later tonight, making you readjust your position suddenly nervous. Well, it won’t go this bad right?

You’re lost in your thoughts as the movie zooms into the girls’ face in a still shot of her screaming, fading into the roll of intro credits as most older movies tended to have early in the movie.

“Coke?” Eddie offers his drink to you and you raise your eyebrow.

“Really? You’re offering me coke when I ordered Diet Coke?” You let out a small snort of a laugh.

He shrugs innocently “it tastes different!”

You laugh “please don’t get me hooked on the hard stuff again.” You wave off his offer, taking a sip of your own drink out of the red and white striped straw.

As the movie plays and you finish the nachos, you lean against his shoulder snuggling in as you work on the popcorn. Your hands brush together as you laugh at the first girl for ignoring every red flag. You share giggles in the darkness of the van over the comical kills of old movies. You made fun of them, sure, but that was part of the charm with old school slashers.

Normally with movies you’d be yawning by the end of it, trying to stay awake. But you were nervous, and determined to make tonight as perfect- or at least as good as you possibly could.

Looking over at him watching the movie intently filled you with a hot desire. His black leather jacket fit the atmosphere entirely and framed his body underneath. The feeling of his firm chest against your head was comforting but you wanted- no, needed- more of him. You wanted to feel his body on top of you, engulfed in everything that is him. Perfect dark brown wavy hair, tired droopy eyes filled with laughter, slim torso and a delicious waist.

Perhaps he knew you wanted more, you wondered as he raised an arm putting it over your shoulder rendering you even closer to him.

By the end of the movie, when they zoom the camera into the lake, your heart was pounding in your chest. Eddie had turned the van on to start it, putting the warm air on you hadn’t noticed how cool the air was.

“Always love that” he smiles tapping his fingers against the van door.

“Me too. Wanna come back to my place?” It took all of your courage to say it tonight, although every other night it came easily. Tonight was different, everything was different.

“Yeah, are you okay?” He says noticing something off about you “we can call it a night if you want.”

“No” you said a little too quickly, redness rising to your cheeks “Yeah everything’s okay. Perfect actually,” and it was. Then why were you so nervous?

“Okay” he smiled, squeezing your knee gently.

You move your fingers to the car radio, switching to Bluetooth to play some music through Spotify on your phone. You put on the playlist Eddie had tailored for you, of his favourite music he’d thought you’d like. And it did help, before long you were fumbling with the keys to your apartment.

Switching on the lights, your small apartment felt somehow different than you left it, even though no nook or cranny had been touched. The soft arrangement of flowers still held strong in their vase, slurping up the water you provided. You lazily lay your purse on the kitchen table next to them, leaving your shoes at the door. Eddie does the same, making himself at home as he always does, with a carefree attitude.

“Thirsty?” you ask, you grab the remote flipping on some sitcom on the tv.

“Naw,” he shakes his head, taking off his leather jacket revealing a dark long sleeved shirt beneath.

Flopping yourself on the couch you sigh as he sits next to you. He was much more relaxed than you, leaning back into the couch as if it were his own, tapping his fingers against his knee. The tv hums in your ears as you connect your phone to Bluetooth, switching the playlist on through your speakers, quiet enough to not disturb any neighbours. You curl up into him, pressing your thighs against his legs and leaning your head against his chest.

After a moment of music playing, his foot tapping against the floorboards, the words leave your lips cautiously “I had fun tonight Ed’s…”

“Me too,” he whispered into you, brushing his lips along your hair. “I always have fun when I’m with you” his whisper was louder as his lips touched your ear, making you shudder.

Suddenly you’re looking up at him as the butterflies inside your chest take over, brown eyes staring down, hypnotising you. Your lips meet in a deep kiss for the first time this evening, a sweet relief.

He pulls back for a moment to say “You know, you don’t have to feel pressured to do anything. I’m happy with the way things are, with whatever you want.”

You blush realising he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“I-I know…” you trail off “yeah I’m just really nervous” your eyes meet his “but it’s because I really want this, and I want it to be perfect.”

He smiles at you, and you’re worried you said something wrong “I’ve been so nervous about this since the day we started dating.” He runs his hand through his hair, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this nervous “I don’t exactly have much in terms of experience.” He admits, red rising to his cheeks, a rare sight.

“Anything with you would be perfect,” you say to him with a smile.

“Actually, that’s my line here sweetheart” brown eyes glistened with joy.

“You know,” You admit “I called you this morning because I had this dream and…” you trail off cheeks even redder.

“A dream?” He smirked down at you, running his thumb along your waist. Clearly, he understood what he needed to do, “tell me about it,” he whispered.

You recount the dream you had, suddenly feeling flustered but you wanted him to know exactly how badly you wanted him “we-we we’re at the beach,” you start and he hums.

“Sex on the beach?” He smirks at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “lovely drink too.”

“No, silly. Well yes but… we went swimming” you think back to the dream, the sky was dark and the moon illuminated both of you, dancing off the water. “You dragged me into the water, asshole move by the way,” you glare at him.

He sighs “dream me getting me in trouble.”

“You say that like you wouldn't do it in reality.”

“Okay fair” he laughs as you smack his shoulder “continue.”

“You dunked me under water, so I pulled you in. Then we started kissing…” his hand trailed up under the fabric of your shirt ever so slightly. “You started grabbing my thighs…”

“Like this?” He asks, bringing his hand to your thigh.

Strong fingers grasp it, his thumb traces random patterns on your jeans “mmhmm,” you whisper as he slowly moves up. Your legs heat up as you feel yourself starting to wetten.

“And then, you untied my swimsuit top, throwing it into the ocean so I couldn’t grab it” he twisted his body to face you as you spoke, bringing his free hand to the small of your back.

“Go me,” he whispered with a smile.

You laugh before continuing “and you kissed me. Everywhere. I mean, everywhere.”

“You know,” he snuck his hand underneath your shirt, running over the bare skin of your waist. “I could do that for you, if you like.”

You find yourself climbing on top of his lap, straddling his hips. He was taken aback but pleasantly so, eyes staring up at you in wonder. He grabbed both of your love thighs, trailing his hands back to your ass. You lean down kissing him deeply, feeling his tongue against yours tasting his sweetness. He grabs your ass lovingly as you kiss, hard and deep while you release his wild hair from the confines of his messy bun.

You run your fingers through his hair lovingly, kissing him passionately, gasping into each others’ mouths. His hands are up and cupping your breasts through the light fabric of your bra. You imagine riding him then and there, letting out an ever so slight moan. His breath was shaky, first you were a little embarrassed by the noise but clearly it fed something in him.

He moves his hands to the clasp of your bra, fiddling with it for a few moments before you feel the band slacken. You shimmy the straps off of your shoulders, letting the bra fall out of your t-shirt onto your thighs. You look up at him innocently as he looks at your bra in wonder “go me” he whispered with a playful grin.

You feel your nipples stiffen against your shirt as you pull it up and over your head, his jaw nearly dropped, “you are so damn gorgeous…” he mumbles, bringing his mouth to your breast.

Your head falls back as he kisses your nipple, licking his tongue hungrily along your breast. He brushes his tongue quickly against your nipple, back and forth making you let out a moan. He moves to the other one to show it some love, alternating between sucking and licking as his strong hands hold you steady. His wavy hair tickles against your skin, a pleasant sensation.

You bring your hands down to the rim of his long sleeve shirt, lifting it up. He pulls his head back, taking over to lift his shirt over his head. You put your hand against his chest, tracing your finger over his tattoos “you’re beautiful…”

“Hey, that’s my line again,” he kissed your neck playfully, you let out a laugh as it tickled.

The feeling of his body pressed into yours was heavenly mixed with his lips against the delicate skin of your neck. He pecked gentle kisses into you, making his way to your mouth. Bringing his hands to your waist he gently guided you to lay down on the couch, your back pressed into the cushion.

He lowers himself on top of you, holding himself steady against the couch. He seemed nervous as he did, breaths unsteady. You pull his head down to you, locking your lips together. You were addicted to the taste of him, you wanted to stay there forever inhaling him. Smoke and sweet soda intertwined, taking over you. Suddenly though, there were too much clothes keeping you apart.

Your hands instinctively move down his chest, over his stomach and grabbing at his belt buckle. His bulge didn’t even try to hide from you as his cock pressed tightly against his jeans.

His lips brushed yours, breath catching in his throat as you wiggle your fingers underneath the fabric. You fumble with his belt buckle as he moves to nibble at your neck, breath hot against your ear. You slide the belt out, dropping it to the floor with the sound of metal clinking.

You move your fingers back, undoing the button of his jeans, unzipping them gracefully. You can hear the gulp heavy in his throat, adams’ apple bobbing. He moves a hand to your jeans to reciprocate, undoing the button much easier than you had. You feel your thighs start moving instinctively as his hands are now dangerously close to your cunt. Your body shivers, feeling weak beneath his touch, wanting to succumb to all of him.

You shimmy out of your jeans, discarding them along with your socks to the floor rendering you naked below him save for your soaking panties.

“Wow,” he says, shaking his head, flashing his perfect teeth at you in shock, running his tongue over them thirstily, “you’re absolutely soaked for me darling.”

You manage a nod “I want you, so bad,” you look up at him with begging eyes “all of you, tonight.”

He couldn’t say no, not that he ever would refuse you, “anything you want,” he whispers, standing and removing the last of his fabric keeping him apart from you.

He pressed his naked body against yours, heat mingling together. You kiss him, love drunk on his taste and scent, wanting to consume it all.

“Please,” you murmur, your cunt throbbing with every heartbeat.

He moves a hand to your panties, sliding them down over your goosebump covered thighs until they reach the floor and it’s just you and him. His hot, firm body against your cool, shivering, soft one. Bodies now connected by the chapped lips on his pale marble body.

You wrap your arms around his neck as he brings his hand to your wet cunt. He looks to you for confirmation and you nod eagerly. He had fingered you before but you savoured it every damn time.

He wasted no time plunging his fingers inside tonight. The sight of your back arching as you moan makes his cock throb, letting out precum for you as you squirm under his grip. His fingers rub against the walls of your cunt methodologically, his rings adding a new form of pleasure to the experience. He takes his sweet time preparing you for him, making sure you're soaked and stretched.

“Eds,” You say, bringing your hand down to catch his wrist, shivering at the sigh of his fingers inside you “I’m ready.”

“A-are you sure…?” His voice is low.

You nod eagerly “yes, yes please.”

He reaches down into his jean pockets, long forgotten, pulling out his wallet. He reaches into the old worn leather grabbing a small packet, which you eagerly grab from him.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to” he reminds you, dropping his wallet to the floor but you’ve already got the condom opened.

“I want to” You look him deep into his eyes, bringing your gentle fingers to touch his shaft.

He groans and throbs against your touch as you roll the condom down over his cock, fitting perfectly. He takes over, lining up his tip with your cunt. He looks at your face, studying your expression and you nod.

Slowly, he slides in until about halfway when you let out a groan of wonderful, tight pressure, your walls clenching against him. He squeezes your shoulder comfortingly with one hand.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, letting yourself relax against the couch.

“Okay, okay” you breathe deep “you can keep going.”

He slowly starts pushing himself into you again, your toes curl as all of him is finally inside. You both let out a gasp of air, smiling at each other.

“Finally,” you whisper, not intending that to be out loud.

You longed for this since the day you met him, feeling him deep inside you right where he belongs, fitting perfectly inside.

He pushes your hair back away from your face, “you look so beautiful with my cock in you, sweetheart” he wears a proud grin looking down at your naked body.

“Keep going” you urge him along.

He pulls out, not entirely but enough for him to thrust back inside, smoother this time. He sits there for a moment, checking in again.

“Is that okay?” He asks.

“Uh-huh,” You nod more confidently this time.

He repeats the process, thrusting in a little faster this time and he’s rewarded with a sweet, high pitched moan. He continues at a steady pace for more thrusts, getting used to the feeling of sliding in and out of you.

He reaches down to a couch pillow discarded to the floor, picking it up. He pulls out for just a moment, lifting your ass into the air, he shoves the small pillow underneath you.

He brings his cock to your entrance for the second time, sliding it in much more easily this time. Thrusting in the second time he brushes against the wonderful spot deep inside you, making you grasp the couch and moan louder this time.

He smiles knowing he found your spot, pulling out and thrusting back over it again “how’s that darling?”

“‘S good, so good” your toes curl against the couch.

He continues ramming his cock against that wonderful spot, and just as you feel your pleasure climb he slows a little.

“How are you doing?” Eddie asks, a little nervous.

“Please Eds” you whimper “shut up and fuck me, and don’t you dare fucking stop.”

He chuckles at your reaction and obliges, having his confidence return “whatever pleases my lady.”

You grasp at his back for dear life then as he no longer holds back. Your body is pressed hard into the couch as he rams into you over and over, “yes Eddie! Right there right there baby,” you encourage, chasing that sweet ecstasy.

He grunts in response, sweating as his cock pushes you along the trail of pleasure, higher and higher.

“Yes Eddie, yes, I need you so bad” Your voice is almost a shout.

Your hands grasp desperately at his firm back, muscles tensing as he fucks you. He pushes you over the edge of orgasm as you let out a breathless moan, mouth draped open as your eyes practically roll back.

Seeing you writhing in pleasure below him was too much, he releases his orgasm inside of the condom with a deep, husky moan that makes your spine shiver.

He lays on top of you, still inside, breathing heavy as his sweat drips onto you. You bring your numb hands up to his head, running your fingers through his sweaty hair, brushing it back and out of his face.

“Wow” you whisper after a moment, enjoying the comforting pressure of his weight against you.

“Wow,” he confirms with a quick nod and you can feel his heart pumping in his chest.

You lay there for maybe minutes that only feel like seconds before he pulls himself out of you. You realise how cold the air is as his body leaves yours, standing up and tossing the used condom in the trash.

“Come here” you reach your hands out beckoning him to come forward.

He obliged almost curiously, as you pulled him by the waist closer to you. Mouth watering, you take his soaking cock into the embrace of your tongue, licking up every last drop of his orgasm. With any other guy before Eddie you honestly hated it, the taste and the feel. But with Eddie, you felt like you couldn’t live without it as your tongue begged for him.

“Okay, okay,” He pulled out when the sensations became too much, lifting himself behind you to snuggle into your back, nuzzling sweetly into your neck.

He pressed his warm body up against you, holding you securely in his grasp.

“Better than the dream?” He asked playfully, kissing your ear.

“Better than my dream” you confirm, sharing a sweet giggle. As he held you tightly then and there, you knew this would be the first time of many.

----

💙💙💙💙

Thanks so much for reading, if you enjoyed leave a like/reblog/comment if you feel so inclined, no matter how old/new this fic is when you read it!

My requests are currently OPEN! Turnaround time is usually 1-2 days depending on length <3

Have a great day my lovely reader!

-Wyv

#stranger things eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #wyv fan fics #fan fic #fan fics #fan fiction #anon request #dinner and a movie first time with EM

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lucysarah-c · 14 days

Note

Do you have any plans for a LevixReader longfic that you would like to write about plot-wise (going back to seasons 1 and 4) besides Holy Ground or after you finish Holy Ground?

Hi, dear! How are you?

Oh, that's such a good question! Yes, I do! Actually, I have the first chapter written, but I will post it once I finish 'Holy Ground.' My idea is to finish writing it before even posting the first chapter. It's not going to be as long as 'HG,' no no. 'Holy Ground' is my baby; I planned that story for years, and it's long because I created a whole universe about it haha. Chapters are long, and they are already cut out of plenty of scenes before they get posted. I think that once 'HG' is done, it may be 500k, and that's a lot.

The new fic would only be five chapters; the titles and everything are already decided. Because who am I if not an obsessive controller and planner? The story will be a canon time but AU about what would have happened if Levi, Farlan, and Isabel would have succeeded in killing Erwin, and now they live in the capital city. The title will be 'Suburban Legends,' with one prologue and four chapters. Levi X reader.

I can even give you a sneak peak:

Snow crunching underfoot, cobblestones slippery, skies open and flamingo pink, the screams of newspapers and old brooms sweeping streets. Head down, dark locks dusted with snowflakes, hands in pockets, calloused, tired feet in a worn uniform. Elaborate sighs, eyes glued to the floor, shop owners opening their stores, boulevards closing. A shaking figure paces down the streets, curious eyes following its path as some recognize him.

The ferry wasn't scheduled for its first trip for at least two to three hours more. He needed to pass the time; his meeting with the higher-ups and Historia had lasted until dawn. The early mornings downtown hold a melancholy that deeply affects him. As he reaches a small plaza, his sigh rises and he admires the view. Sheena's Wall exhales an air of foreignness he can't comprehend, like visiting an ex's house - familiar yet tinged with unease and foreignness. A place once called his own, now recalled with flashbacks of bad dreams.

The overwhelming desire to be alone consumes him, perhaps hidden in a forest outside the walls where nobody could see or expect him. Unusual for him, but he feels on the verge of tears. What could be the reason? The stress of the Wall Maria retake expedition? Erwin's unwavering determination and wavering intentions? The reasons he joined the scouts now disturbed like a distorted dream? Kenny? The kids from the underground reminding him of his own and, once again, Kenny? His mother?

Desolation and doubts cloud his mind; the streets teem with strangers, and the wash of loneliness shivers his body in a way it hasn't before. He can almost believe that at 31, he wishes Kenny were around again, to guide him, to ask him questions, to show him the way. Joining the scouts seven years ago, knowing more at 24 than at 31. Pacing the streets like an abandoned dog, wondering where to return, never thinking they'd one day be left to fend for themselves in the empty fields, seeking civilization by the scent of food and the hope of love.

Thank you for passing by! I can't help but wonder what made you want to ask that question! Feel free to return haha.

Have a lovely day/night!

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fleckficgirl · 9 months

Text

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 10

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: This chapter contains mugging, memory loss, traumatic brain injury. This fic as a whole contains sex, language, violence, mental illness.

Word Count: 3164

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Author’s Note: I’m back! Obviously, it took me sooo long to figure out how to write this next chapter, but I finally got it together. I really appreciate your patience in the meantime & hope you enjoy reading it. The plan is to post more regularly soon (Chapter 11 is almost done).

“Makeup is an art,” Chantelle and Tina had explained to you the night before. “Think of your face as a canvas.”

Despite all their well-intentioned beauty coaching, the cold, hard truth was you still had no idea what the hell you were doing - you couldn’t even keep the differences between moisturizer, foundation and concealer straight in your brain. And after twenty minutes of attempting to “paint” your face like the natural-born Rembrandt they were convinced you were, you’d stared back at your reflection in the mirror and decided you looked like a clown…and not in a sexy-Arthur-Fleck kinda way.

Exasperated, you’d washed everything off, opting instead for a tiny bit of mascara, lip gloss and powder.

But then there was the issue of your hair. You’d burned your fingers on Tina’s flat iron before managing to get things somewhat under control. But as soon as you stepped out onto the street the rain began to fall, causing your already-unruly mane to frizz up completely by the time you reached the subway.

Chantelle’s handpicked outfit, however, remained the only unblemished element of tonight's ensemble: her tight-fitting angora sweater did things for your non-existent cleavage you’d never imagined possible. You’d be sure to thank her profusely later…even though she thought you were going out with someone else tonight.

You’d never cared how you looked in front of a guy before…but Arthur Fleck wasn’t just a guy. To say he’d gotten under your skin was, perhaps, the understatement of your life: you were becoming crazy about the man.

You didn't know how you were going to survive this date. You could barely hold it together in Arthur’s presence without wanting to reach out and smother him with affection, and the kiss between you earlier today had only solidified your deepest desires. You wanted Arthur in so many ways…ways you didn’t even understand yet. It reminded you of the first time you’d ever rode the Giant Dipper at Amusement Mile: the sensation of your stomach flying up into your throat as you went over that first terrifying drop…a disconcerting mix of fear and exhilaration. Was this what being in love felt like?

***

The bouncer at Pogo’s frowned as you handed him your ID.

“Are you…um…are you alright, miss?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

You were thrown off by the question. “Of course. Why?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…have you looked in a mirror recently?”

You shook your head. The jerk was actually making fun of how bad your hair and makeup had turned out. People in this city really didn’t know how to act.

“Wow, you’re hilarious,” you rolled your eyes at him, snatching back your ID. “Can I please go inside now? My friend’s about to go on.”

You pushed past the rude bouncer and entered the club, scanning the room feverishly for an empty seat. Spotting one parallel to the center of the stage, your eyes lit up and you rushed over to claim it. As you sat down, a strange chill ran up your spine as you slowly began to realize: everyone was staring at you. Faces of concern and mockery swam around you, and you weren’t sure why.

Oh shit, you thought. Do I have something on my face?

Unfortunately, you hadn’t brought a compact mirror (Tina and Chantelle had given you a five minute lecture on the importance of always carrying on in your purse), so you couldn’t check. And you couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom because then you’d lose your seat. You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, then glanced at your watch and saw the glass was cracked.

Weird. You hadn’t remembered smashing it against anything on the way over.

Your concerns about your appearance, however, were quickly dissolved as the current act wrapped and the emcee took the mic.

“This next comic describes himself as a lifelong Gotham resident who from a young age was told that ‘his purpose in life was to bring laughter and joy into this cold, dark world.’ Umm. Okay? Please help me welcome Arthur Fleck!”

You applauded along with the rest of the half-faded crowd as relief washed over you. Thank God you hadn’t missed him. As Arthur took the stage, your heart began to throb again. There were simply simply no words to describe how incredible he looked tonight. His red vest. The crisp, white button-down shirt underneath it. The matching slacks.

And his hair. His hair.

You were certain his hair was going to be the death of you. How was it possible that you and that gorgeous hair inhabited the same planet without the entire world imploding?

Arthur squinted out at the crowd before speaking. You knew he was searching for you, needing to see you in the audience, needing to know you were there for him. And you were. When the two of you locked eyes, he smiled. You smiled back at him and everything else fell away. It was you and Arthur again. And nothing else in this cold, dark world mattered.

You didn’t care that Arthur had a laughing episode at the beginning of his act. You didn’t care that basically all his jokes fell flat, either. You didn’t care about any of that. All you cared about was how proud you were of him. So proud, you felt like you could burst into a million pieces.

When he finished his set, you leapt to your feet, clapping and screaming. Arthur blushed from the stage, embarrassed…and pleased. Everyone was staring at you, then back at Arthur, then back at you in dazed confusion. Two weirdo peas in a pod…and proud.

“We’re gonna take a short break,” the emcee announced.

A moment later, you and Arthur found each other at the back of the club.

“You were amazing, Arthur!” you exclaimed as you threw your arms around him.

“I'm so glad you came tonight…” he hummed into your ear. Of course, your depraved mind twisted the meaning of those two words in your head, and you found yourself having to stifle a blushing smile. You felt your body quaver with excitement at being next to him once again.

“Wait a minute…” Arthur pulled back to look at you, shock and concern flooding his face.

“Y/N, what…what happened to you?”

You blinked. “What? Nothing happened to me.”

“You’re…you’re hurt.” Arthur looked you up and down, then lifted your hands to eye-level. Bruises in the shape of what looked like fingers and fingertips lined the insides of your wrists. You frowned at the sight, utterly confused.

“Y/N, who…who did this to you?”

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “I mean…I have a slight headache, but, y’know, it’s probably just the rain.”

“Y/N, look at me. Tell me what happened. Can you remember?”

It took a minute for your brain to register Arthur’s question, which you realized was a little strange.

“Well,” you inhaled, trying hard to formulate your thoughts. “I got on the subway…I know that. And I took it all the way to…well, whatever this stop was near here, you know? And then I got off the train and went up the stairs…and then…” you looked up into Arthur’s beautiful eyes. “And then I was here. Watching you perform for the very first time. And I’m so proud of you, Arthur!” you squealed as if you’d seen him for the first time tonight all over again.

“You don’t remember anything else? You must have hit your head.”

“I'm fine!”

“Y/N,” Arthur’s worried eyes blinked at you. “I don’t think you are. I think I need to take you to the hospital.”

“But it’s our big date!” you wailed. “I got all dressed up and everything!”

At that moment, a few Wall Street bro types brushed past and snickered at Arthur.

“Nice set, freak. In case you didn’t get the memo: you’re supposed to tell the jokes and the audience is supposed to laugh…not the other way around.”

"He has a laughing condition, you assholes!" you snarled at them without hesitation.

To everyone’s surprise, the bros paused, thrown off by the fact you’d called them out.

“Sorry…” Arthur interjected, glancing at the dudes apologetically. “She’s…she’s not feeling well.”

Arthur shot you a desperate please-shut-your-mouth-before-you-get-us-both-killed look, but you could see there was a tiny, triumphant smile curling up his lips underneath it. Still, the words were flying out of your mouth and there wasn’t much you could do to stop them.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling well,” you continued loudly, glowering at them. “Maybe if assholes would shut their fat faces and stop acting ignorant, I’d feel better.”

“Okay, you’re coming with me now!” Arthur wrapped his arm around your shoulders and scooted you towards the door. You looked over your shoulder to see them staring after you, dumbfounded. The sight of it made you laugh.

“Y/N,” Arthur pulled you into him as soon as you were outside. “I’m taking you to Gotham Hospital. We’ve gotta get you checked out.”

“No, Arthur!” you protested. You didn’t exactly know why you were so opposed to the idea, but your first instinct was to protest.

“Y/N, please. Please? Just do it for me. Just so I know you’re okay.”

“I’m worried about you,” he emphasized.

“I’m fine!”

“Okay.”

You’d switched it up so quickly, Arthur blinked in disbelief. He cleared his throat, nodding.

“Uh…okay. Good. Let’s go.”

“This is not where I expected to end up tonight,” you lamented. Arthur sat next to you, a clipboard given to him by the nurse at the front desk in his lap. He was trying to fill out your paperwork for you.

“Um. Your last name is…L/N right?”

“Yeah” You smiled at him. “How’d you know?”

Arthur blushed. “I…might have looked at your timecard. I was…curious about you. This was before…you know…we became...closer.”

“That’s so sweet! I looked at your timecard, too!”

Arthur stifled a laugh. “What’s your date of birth?”

He patiently wrote in all the answers and brought the completed forms back up to the desk.

“I’m surprised there aren’t more people here,” you observed, looking around at the handful of other patients. “It is a Friday night, after all.”

“It’s only ten o’clock,” Arthur reasoned. “My guess is things get crazier out there in a couple hours or so.”

“I feel like things are flying out of my mouth tonight without any filter,” you blurted. “And I’m not even that angry.”

“I feel like they are, too,” Arthur agreed. “But, that’s okay. I’m glad you agreed to come here. I’m…I’m still worried about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning in. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Arthur looked a little startled, but he nodded.

“How do you get your hair to look so good all the time?”

Arthur’s eyebrows arched and he laughed.

“I'm serious!”

“No…I'm sorry,” he demurred, looking down at the tile floor. “It's just that nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

“Nobody ever said your hair looks incredible?” you asked. “Like it's the most gorgeous hair in the world? Nobody ever approached you to do shampoo commercials?”

“Maybe that's my true calling,” he joked.

“What shampoo do you use?”

"That's a personal question," Arthur teased as the door to the back of the ER swung open.

“L/N? F/N L/N?” the nurse called out.

You leapt to your feet. “Oh! That’s me.”

“Do you want me to wait here?” Arthur asked.

“Are you kidding?” You extended your hand and pulled him up. “Of course I want you to come. You’re my emotional support clown.”

After weighing you, taking your blood pressure, asking if you had any allergies to any medications and all the other boring details that entailed a medical visit, the nurse set you up in an examination room and read through your paperwork, pursing her lips as she centered in on the handwritten scrawl (Arthur’s handwriting of course) that explained why you’d come to the ER in the first place.

“It says here you…think you hit your head?”

“He thinks I hit my head,” you clarified, jerking said head towards Arthur. “I’m still not sure. There’s a big gap in my memory from tonight and I don’t know why.”

“There are bruises on her arms,” Arthur added. “She came to meet me and she looked…disheveled. Like someone had…”

He paused. The nurse looked you up and down.

“You don’t remember what happened to cause the bruises?”

You shrugged. “I can be clumsy sometimes.”

“You’re not…that clumsy,” Arthur murmured under his breath. “I mean,” he looked up at the nurse. “She’s a dancer. She’s…one of the most graceful people I’ve ever seen.”

“Arthur, that is so sweet!” you exclaimed.

The nurse shot you both a skeptical look, then smiled. “Your husband obviously cares for you a great deal.”

“Oh,” Arthur blushed. “I’m…not her-”

“Yes, he’s a wonderful husband!” you interjected, flashing him a slightly maniacal smile. “So protective of me. I couldn’t ask for a better one.”

“It sounds like you might have taken a fall,” the nurse continued, jotting down a few notes on your chart. “But the bruises on your wrists do look like they were caused by someone else’s hands.”

“My watch is broken, too,” you blurted.

“I’m wondering if maybe you were mugged. It happens to women in Gotham all the time, unfortunately.”

“But I still have all my money,” you pointed out, opening up your purse to show off your untouched wallet.

“Maybe you fought them off,” Arthur suggested. It wasn’t a completely outlandish notion. You were known to bring out the feistiness if the wrong people pushed your buttons.

“In any case, we’ll run some tests to check for concussion and other injuries.”

The nurse opened a drawer and handed you a light blue paper robe. “You can put this on. I’ll inform the doctor and he’ll check you over.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said.

“Of course. He should be by in just a minute.”

“What a nice lady,” you said to Arthur after she left you alone. “Don’t always meet people like that around here.”

“Very nice,” Arthur agreed. He cleared his throat. “Um…do you want me to leave, or…turn around while you get changed?”

You blinked, the reality of everything that had happened tonight finally hitting you.

“I just can’t believe this is how tonight turned out.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked softly.

“I had a whole outfit planned, Arthur! And my hair and makeup. I wanted to impress you and look beautiful for you tonight.”

“Y/N…” Arthur stood up to face you. “You are beautiful. No matter what. All I care about is that you’re okay.”

You sighed, moved by his sweet words, but you still felt utterly crestfallen and defeated. “I ruined our first date. And your big stand-up debut. I wanted tonight to be perfect so bad…”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Arthur interrupted. “I…” he paused. “Of course I wish none of this had happened to you. This city is…awful. In so many ways.” He paused, taking your hand into his. “But…I just love being with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, as long as we’re together.”

You wanted to kiss him again, but suddenly the door flew open and a man in a white coat suddenly stood before you both.

“I hear somebody got banged up tonight.”

“My guess is you got mugged. Maybe the muggers chickened out before they could actually…you know…mug you. It does look like you’ve got a concussion.”

Dr. White’s bedside manner was on the complete other end of the spectrum of your nice nurse’s from a few minutes before, but you’d come to expect that from men with MDs. After performing the perfunctory tests of shining a light in your eyes, examining your body for additional trauma or bruising (none was found) and asking you a few routine questions, he announced his evaluation:

“What can you do for that?”Arthur asked, concerned.

The doctor snorted at what he obviously deemed a dumb question. “Not much. Just wait it out. Don’t go to sleep for a while.”

“What happens if I fall asleep?” you asked.

“You could die.”

“Oh.”

“Your brain’ll heal itself,” the doctor continued. “Might take a little time. Just try to take it easy and don’t be in places where this could happen to you again.”

“You mean the entire city?” you asked, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him. You knew what he meant, but the slight insinuation that getting mugged was somehow your fault didn’t sit great with you.

“What can I say?” Dr. White shook his head and shrugged. “Welcome to Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here all my life,” you informed him dryly. “Gotham’s a jungle.”

“Then welcome to the jungle.”

“Are you hungry?” Arthur asked in the lobby of the hospital. It was past midnight. “There’s a diner down the street people seem to like.” He paused. “That is…if it’s not too late for you.”

The way you saw it, you’d stay up all night with Arthur if he’d have you.

“Let’s go to the diner. I could really go for a cheeseburger."

Arthur laughed. “Okay.”

The rain had stopped and the air outside felt crisp and freshly-washed. For a brief moment, it made you forget that the garbage strike in Gotham had just entered its seventh week.

You and Arthur moved through the crowded sidewalk together, stumbling through the endless obstacles of people and garbage. A startling headline caught your eye as you walked past a newsstand, and you stopped in your tracks to read it:

KILLER CLOWN ON THE LOOSE. LATEST NEWS ON THE MURDERS, PAGE TWO.

Beneath was a drawing of a vampiric clown.

“Can you believe that?” you asked.

Arthur paused alongside you, his eyes wide as he soaked in the headline.

“I watched this on the news last night."

Arthur nodded, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. “They worked at Wayne Enterprises. All three of them.”

You rolled your eyes. “That figures.”

Arthur cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?”

You continued, lowering your voice. “Between you and me, I actually knew one of them. Back when I was still at college. He was a complete asshole, and that’s putting it nicely.” You sighed. “And if I had to guess, those ‘friends’ of his were cut from the exact same cloth. But it looks like he finally picked the wrong person to fuck with. And I can’t say I’m shedding any tears.”

Arthur nodded slowly, taking in your words.

“I’m sorry,” you stopped yourself. “You must think I’m crazy for talking like this.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Three less pricks in Gotham City,” you quipped. “Only a million more to go!”

Arthur threw back his head and laughed. You took it as a good sign: despite the traumatic brain injury and the chaotic night you’d shared, his smile still made you go weak at the knees.

🤍🩷 Thanks for reading. Visit my Masterlist for all my Fleck writing, including future chapters of Heartthrob.

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck imagine #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #joker #joker fanfiction #joker 2019 #joaquin phoenix joker #joaquin phoenix #slow burn #friends to lovers #age gap relationship #gotham city is awful #phoenix!joker x reader

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misslili265 · 2 years

Note

What about Chrollo and Kurapika with a writter s/o headcanon? Thank you >v<

Aya, hey reader, thank you for the request, oh love these two, I would take any of them!!! Let's write your headcanons, hope you enjoy 💓

CHROLLO AND KURAPIKA HEADCANONS

Chrollo lives for the Phantom Troupe, for him this is the only way to go. But if one were able to break into the heart of the devoted leader, it would be quite a feat.

Chrollo would still be devoted to work, but once you wrapped him in the chains, not of death like Kurapika, but of love, he would be handed over to you. Although before he didn't care much about whether he was going to live or die, it's like Chrollo's personality, your existence causes a desire for protection. In his mind, from now on, he needs to do this job.

You would always be escorted, but only by the more centered of the troupe. And updates of your every step would be required from them.

No, Chrollo wouldn't shove you into a dirty hole where the troupe gathers. You would be oblivious to it. Being with a wanted has disadvantages.

You would have to live with a certain absence of Chrollo sometimes, who wants to not put you in any situation that could be used against him. And if someone discovered your whereabouts and threatened to kill you, Chrollo would without hesitation do the impossible to save you, if there was no way out, he would ask for your life in exchange for his own.

On the other hand, we would need a better word than luxury to describe your situation. Chrollo would bathe you in wealth. You would be extremely spoiled. And when he had the opportunity to be with you, he would be affectionate and seductive, and handsome as he is, it wouldn't take much effort on his part. When together he would cover you with kisses and hugs, smiling in a naughty way knowing about his power how he always get what he wants.

And in case you ever went against his opinion, Chrollo would just smile and use all the manipulative power he possesses to get inside your mind. Until his will was fulfilled.

Chrollo would not be insecure in a relationship. But depending on the level of love he feels, leaving him wouldn't be a good idea.

Chrollo is a leader by nature, and he knows how to direct things to happen according to the plans he has. With you the effort would be channeled, leaving you at the mercy of the head of the Phantom Troupe's tender arms.

Love him, it's not an option. But well…this it's not that hard, isn't?

Revenge is the angelic man's reason for living. Kurapika works hard to do justice. But when crossing your path and falling for your grace, he would have an existential crisis.

Revenge is something that seems to cry out for him. But questions such as. "- Would that bring them back? Is this a sign that I can follow a different destiny? Questions of this nature would torment Kurapika's head. That he would only have moments of quiet by your side of the brave member of the extinct Kuruta clan, with you moments when Kurapika would feel something inside of him filling his being more than an emptiness in his chest.

Simple things that you did on a daily couple basis between the self-imposed missions that Kurapika would perform, would make him just fall more and more. Ice cream, outdoors together, all this would lead him to rethink your safety and his own.

After all, he has thought of something special about your future...

He continues to be careful and eliminate members of the Phantom Troupe without you knowing, because in his opinion, you would try to stop him, which would be true.

But he becomes cautious, as the desire to get back to the one he loves would increase, becoming a necessity.

Kurapika would be wary of displays of affection at first, but if you're the type who loves to show how much you love through caresses, he'll sooner or later discover a side of you he didn't think so exist. He would develop affection and crave your touch. The run of your fingers through his golden hair, the small, long kisses, the light bites on his neck would make him blush and feel overwhelmed in passion and desire. But at some point he would realize that without it he could no longer live.

Yes, he would complete his revenge. But after that, surely a ring would be on your finger. In addition to all the love he's sure he feels, because as we know, Kurapika isn't the type to have doubts about his decisions.

He would also love you with one goal in mind, that of restoring his own clan, when choosing someone, he would be old romantic and faithful for life, and definitely devoted to his family proudly.

608 notes · View notes

berrieluv · 2 years

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GymRat!James Potter headcanons.

note: head empty just james potter who trains religiously at the gym.

can someone pls tell me how to write dutch bag like how do i write it i can’t even look for it on internet bc i have no idea on how to write tysm

ok, correct me if i’m wrong but james potter would LOVE plus size girls (not trying to exclude thin girls, i’m sure my man has heart for every kind of woman) but i just think he’ll be just obsessed with plus size girls

maybe this is being influenced by my thoughts that lily evans is plus size

but we’re not talking bout her here.

I think James would be the kind of boyfriend — or even if he’s not your boyfriend yet and he just likes you— who would try SO HARD to know how much you weight

and i mean sneaking into madame poffrey’s nursery archive kind of thing just to know

that information is so he can do thrusts hips with your weight and prove you — more prove himself — that he’s strong enough to handle any kind of ride with you

he also would try to make you go with him,

even if you don’t want to train, he would be like:

“just look at me while i do it”

he wants you to know how strong he is of course

james would also be the kind of boyfriend that even if his body is absolutely toned, with killing abs and deadly thighs, he would never point out an “unhealthy” habit of yours.

like he would never try to tell you to stop eating some foods or exercising more

of course if you tell him you want to start training and loose weight he would be absolutely fucking enchanted

he would make sure to tell you first:

“darling, i want you to make this for yourself and only yourself. i don’t want you to make a change for me, i think you’re unbelievably beautiful this way and there’s nothing that would change the way I feel about you”

but after that he would be delighted, his girl and him sharing the second thing he loves to do the most

the first one is you

james would absolutely break you at the gym. at first he would try to make you do what he does, i’m talking about almost two hours of exercise

then you would threaten him with leaving if he doesn’t stop

he would spend HOURS on internet, finding easy routines and exercises for you

he would make sure you’re eating well and drinking lots of water too

as you see your body change, you can also notice how James horniness doesn’t, he desires you as much as he always has, being real to his promise

you can’t feel insecure with a man like james

c’mon how could you

he practically worships the ground you walk on

when you’re both alone at the gym james would ask you to sit on his torso so he could do hip thrusts with you

i’m sorry is just that james potter doing hip thrusts is an imagine that would never leave my mind

james would also protect you from the dutch bags from the gym and the people who would dare to say he’s too much of a man for you

and of course he’s too much of a man for you, you can only cum 3 times in a row, 4 if you’re feeling particular strong,

but oh my man can make you go so much more

i swear the principal source of joy of his life it’s to watch your body reaction to an orgasm

#james potter x y/n #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter smutt #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x reader #the marauders fluff #the marauders x you #the marauders smut #james potter smut #the marauders x reader #james potter headcanon

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magnoliabutters · 9 months

Text

pairing: spencer reid x (she/her) bau!reader

summary: never in a million years would you expect to wake up next to spencer reid...

warnings: 18+ content, mdni; fake statistics, seasons 1-7 spencer, innocent/well-researched virgin, plot who?, sub/dom switch, oral (r receiving), etc.

word count: ~2.5k

reblogs for baby spencer wencer ♥️

Never in a million years would you expect to wake up next to Spencer Reid.

After a particularly daring case, you were dying to find a way to let loose. Luckily for you, the only coworker available was the sweet, heart warming smile of a young agent.

The night was filled with playing chess and simple card games. It didn’t take long for you to regret ever suggesting the idea of playing any games with Reid.

You gently persuade him into the idea of binging Netflix shows. Two wine-tinted glasses and an emptied bottle to show for the fun night. Little did you know, it was going to end in a sleepover.

A grumbling moan and the base of your palm presses into your brow bone. You slowly raise and place your back against your headboard. Resting elbows on your knees, you curve out your back.

“Did you sleep well?”

You jump at Spencer’s voice, having completely forgotten that, in good slumber party fashion, you invited him into your bed. “Oh god,” you gripe, peering through your fingers. He sits with today’s newspaper folded to its crossword. A pen swinging between his two fingers as he sits propped up by two pillows.

Moving away from the curiosity of how this man procured the paper when you don’t even get them, your eyes are glued to the bundle of curls on his head. You point his way while stifling a laugh. His brows furrow as he tucks in his chin. When realizing exactly what you were laughing at, he lovingly smacks you with his paper thin weapon.

“Okay, your hair,” he starts. You nod, encouraging him to finish his sentence. A mean Reid, that would be a sight to see. “Well, I don’t want to be rude so I’m just not going to say anything.” He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest like he did something.

You smile, leaning your head back onto the wood. “Ugh, I don’t want to get up.” Spencer slow slides down with a smile, crushing the pillows below him. His eyes raking over your dramatic body.

“Well, you don’t have to,” he shares with a shrug. “68% of Americans sleep in, especially seeing as 48% of women have trouble…” he slows his words upon noticing the sheets gradually covering your head.

Under a rather light duvet, you can hear his muffled words. “Oh, okay then.” He returns to his puzzle, biting the top of his pen in his mouth. A minute or two passed and he writes down his sixth word furiously.

Wow, Spence is really just going to leave you down here. You groan as you shoot up from the covers. “I could’ve been dead in there for all you know.”

Reid’s eyes are glued to the next clue, not a care in the world. “Not really,” he utters. A slow smile forming on his right cheek. You get a better look at that chewed cap between his teeth. The way his lips pull with his smile. They look sweet, like gentle and supple to the touch but also tasting of some sugary berry.

You rake over his body. A sudden desire to take a quick peek. He looks nice in his purple dress shirt. You always appreciated how he wore them, folding the sleeves half way up his forearm. He has a space, a little tanned slit between his shirt and brown corduroys. You find yourself wanting to explore it…

“Agent Reid, are you fucking serious?” you gasp, pinching the side of his leg. He winces, but not just from the bites of your fingers. “Ugh, do you always have to curse like a sailor?”

You laugh, diving your elbow into your pillow and supporting your head with your palm. “Fuck yeah,” you say with a straight face. He scoffs, landing in one of those cute smiles of his.

“Anyway, back to the question at hand,” you say with thin lips. “Did you seriously wear your pants to bed?” Spencer raises his shoulders and hands in defense.

His mouth gaping as he scoffs. “Y-yeah, I did,” he extends his last word in a sing songy tone. Your brows raise as you nod along. “I-I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

The base of your palm returns to your brow bone once again, but this time for an entirely new reason. “I told you to be comfortable,” you say softly. “Yeah, well, comfortable to me may not be comfortable to you,” he retorts. Raising brows as he confidently rests back onto his pillow.

“I don’t buy it,” you shake your head, sucking your tongue against your tooth. Spencer turns towards you, a lip slightly raised, and offended by your reaction. “Don’t buy it?” he asks incredulously. “I don’t buy it worth shit, man,” you enunciate your “t” before bursting into laughter.

He shakes his head in short movements before the words fall from his mouth as quick as an auctioneer. “It’s not like I’ve done this before, okay?” You pause, completely still. Your eyes widening with a small drop of your jaw. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “You’ve never done what before?”

Now it was Spencer’s turn to hide under the covers. You happily join him beneath the surface, scooting closer to his arm until you were touching. “We really don’t have to talk about it,” he spits out, blowing off the topic. Part of you wishes you could respect his desire, but another part is way too curious to not inquire more.

“Spence, have you never…?” you ask quietly, hiding behind his shoulder as you curl onto to your side. His mouth flattens, displaying his classic thinking face. You allow the silence to fill the air, just like you do when you read over a case beside him.

Silence allows his alien brain to work in ways that you could barely understand. With something like this, he should have all the time in the world to consider sharing such a truth with you.

Several minutes go by and your chin stills rests on his quiet shoulder. “I’ve never been in bed with,” he starts but quickly shuts down. You raise from his side, giving him your full attention. A comforting hand at his peck as you draw his eyes to you. “It’s okay,” you say softly and sincerely. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Annoyed, Spencer pulls the covers from his face and kicks his feet off the mattress. You find a part of you aching for him with every inch he pulls away from you. “Spencer,” you call out as he reaches for his keys. “I really don’t want you to go.” You take a deep breath, hoping he won’t leave - fully knowing that even if he did, you would see him again later that day.

He slows his movements, sustaining his furrowing brow. “Come lay back down with me,” you ask softly. “Please?” He runs his tongue over his teeth. His fingers playing with those dancing keys. “We only have,” you jump onto his side of the mattress. You extend your arm to reach the alarm clock, struggling your first two tries. “Look, only an hour. We can go in together.”

You pull the only stunt you had left. The pouty lip and your bestest puppy dog eyes. “Pleaaasseee.”

Spencer rolls his neck back, groaning as he does. Putting on a real show, just to crawl back into bed with you. “You’re more insufferable than I thought,” he utters with a tiny smirk.

“You’re more cuddly than I thought.” Your chin returns to his shoulder. A leg curls over his as your hand rests lightly upon his chest. You were completely comfortable beside him, as though he was made just for you.

Hesitant at first, you feel his arm wrap around your lower back. He runs his big, soft hand up and down your torso. You could easily fall asleep, right here in his arms.

As you dig deeper into his embrace, you feel his gentle fingers accidentally finding their way beneath your shirt. He makes the same motion under the cloth, only you could actually feel the warmth of his palms this time.

Each touch of his skin to yours creates an explosion that floods your body with adrenaline. You were tired? Nope. You’re wide awake now. The blood embarrassingly makings it way down to the pit of your stomach.

Unknowingly, your legs tighten their hold of Spencer’s thigh and calf. Your eyes widen once recognizing the firm girth pressing against your inner thigh. Your body stills, desperate not to pull any attention to anything going on.

Thoughts of your hand traveling down his stomach flash in your mind. Spencer has always had a piece of your heart, from the day you met him, but as the years went by, you came to accept the futility of your budding, romantic relationship.

Like a deer in headlights, you remain frozen beside him. Silence lives between you two yet again, but this time, there’s something new - something your partnership has never experienced.

You could hear his breathing. How it hitches any time he tries to adjust himself. How every other breath is held for at least five to seven seconds before finally being released into an exhale.

You bite your lip, putting all your effort into not squeezing your inner thigh against his thick cock. A deep exhale pushes from your lips.

You decided long before that it would never work between you two. On top of that, you wouldn’t dare be so careless to be one of his firsts without sincerely wanting to give this a shot.

Your heart bursts with each beat, practically breaking your ribs in the process. “Spencer,” you whisper. He hums at your voice, being pulled from his own trail of confusing thoughts. “Can I touch you?”

You tuck into his shoulder, cringing at your own words. It’s enough embarrassment to make him chuckle and fill your cheeks a rosie red. “You’re already touching me,” he answers sweetly.

You press your forehead against his soft skin. He’s really going to make you say it. The worst part is that he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. You raise your eyes to him just to see that he was already peering back at you. “Spence,” you sigh. The innocent, giddy smile he was sporting slowly dissipated as he rakes over your face - searching for some behavior, some clue that will give him the answer to your worry.

You gulp, painfully waiting for his brilliant mind to figure out the world’s most transparent puzzle. This silence was unbearable. You could hear your heart in your ears. Is your that your throat closing? Or do you just have anxiety? Either way, your body screams for the emergency exit.

You mumble, “I should probably get ready,” while sitting up from your comfortable rest. Spencer grabs your wrist, a tight grip that excited you. As your eyes lock, he softly says, “Yes.”

Heart racing. Breath quickening. You return back to his side, laying a delicate head against his chest. Your hand slowly trails down his sternum and onto his stomach. Your thigh digs into his as you curl into him.

Spencer bites his lip as your fingers hook beneath his pant’s waistline. He closes his eyes, running a tongue over his bottom lip. “Can I?” you ask, flicking your eyes up to him as you unhook his button. A slow hand as you pull down the zipper. He nods with a shake that vibrates across his body.

It isn’t long before you could feel the heat resonating off of it. God, you mouth salivates - dying to feel it’s firmness, it’s girth. You melt beside him, wanting nothing more than to hear sweet moans as he cums.

Spencer hisses, almost as though the touch was too much, but he slowly eases into it. Your fingers dip beneath his tight, black boxer briefs. The band pushing against your skin as you slide deeper. Light brown, tightly wound curls flourish beneath your fingertips. His base is thick and enticing. You quickly raise your eyes, clenching your jaw upon the sight.

His tongue lightly floats to his top teeth before taking in a quick inhale. A brief glimpse at his subtle confidence and it is confirmed - he could have had you on your knees way before this. Your hand trails down until your fingers wrap gently around his girth. A shaky breath escapes you when your index finger barely meets your thumb.

Upon the sensation, Spence’s breath hitches and he takes a slow blink. His mouth slightly opens in anticipation as you raise your grasp upon him. Your fingers squeezing tight. A thumb brushing at the threshold of his tip. He gasps, finally dropping the pen between his fingers. “T-that, oh god, that feels so good,” he coos. His body tenses beneath you.

As you quicken, Spencer’s chin grasps for the heavens above. His hand innately digs nails into the small of your back. Your fingers squeeze tighter with each downward movement.

The sight of him causes a rose tinted haze. The blood buzzing in your ears. Your heat slowly grinds against his leg. He hums beside you as you time your rutting hips with your tugging hand.

Abruptly, his hands press into your cheeks and guide you to his lips. You gasp before closing your eyes and crashing onto his torso. You taste each other in a way that sends shockwaves throughout your body.

His lips slightly part, inviting your tongue within. However, he is the one who gently slicks his tongue across your lip. He is the one that presses its tenderness against your own. Your fingers wrack through his waved brunette locks.

Spencer’s hands reach for your hips, pulling you further onto him. His grip is a pleasant mix of a caveman craving his woman and a soft, gentle lover. You cannot help but dig your hips further against his. You wanted more. You wanted him beneath you. To feel him twitch against you.

You straddle his waist, placing your own hands on the sides of his beautiful face. Your hair falls like a curtain as you pull away to take a breath. A smile sprawls across his face. His hand brushing the hair behind your ear with eyes raking over your features.

Lowering yourself down onto him, you pause before your lips touch. Eyes locking onto each other. An energy buzzes between you both. The very same energy you felt the first time you met him. You are the one to pull your gaze as you slam your lips against his.

Placing one hand upon his chest for stability, the other dives between you two and finds it home around his cock. The wrapping of your fingers leads to his breath hot against your mouth. A smile perking between your cheeks any time his sharp, hot breaths tickle your lips.

Spencer’s hands rub down your back, dragging your tank top down with him. His palms warm your waist before his fingers curl into the hem of your panties. He pulls the thin cloth down, dragging it against your outer thighs. His eyes are glued to yours as he raises his chin, begging for your kiss.

Dropping your panties to your ankle, you can feel the heat boiling in your belly. You lower yourself against him. Your wet, heat grinds against his firm rod. He bites back a moan. You press your cheek against his as you nip at his earlobe. “Oh, yes, just like that,” he purrs.

His touch pushes you off the cliff of euphoria. Your mind completely buzzed from his sensual touch. You could feel his hips grinding back onto you. Those shaky breaths leaving him.

You suddenly become overstimulated by the feel of your clothes. Your fingers reach for the hem of your shirt but he quickly stops you. His hands cupping yours as he shushes you. “Please,” he whispers. “Let me.”

Spencer lightly brings your hands back to his chest. His fingers reach the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head. His breath stalls upon the sight of your uncovered breasts. A tongue traveling across his lip as he shudders.

A gaping mouth as he slowly inches towards you. His tongue slightly leading the way. With a beaming grin, you lean into his kiss, feeling yourself crash into his hold. He hums against you. “Don’t stop kissing me,” he pleads softly between pecks.

Your arms hug around his neck, pressing your lips against his. Your hips grind against him, wanting more and more. “Mmm’never,” you mumble. His hands slide up the sides of your waist, traveling ever so slowly until they cup your breasts. His dick twitches between your legs, making you gasp ever so lightly.

Spencer presses his fingers into your lower back. He pins you forward until his mouth crashes upon your nipple. You moan at his wet touch, taking sharp breaths as you drop your head down. “Shit, shit,” you whisper.

His tongue circles around your sensitive skin. Your nipple hardening upon his touch, making him drool more than he already is. “Don’t stop,” you mewl. Your breath escapes you with each flick of his tongue.

Spence’s lips press softly into your skin, making their way to your other side. As his breath heavies, he leans closer and closer into your bosom. Your fingers crash into his waved locks, pulling him tight against you.

Firm teeth lightly envelop your nipple. A bit tighter than you expected. You wince, letting out a hiss that forces him to drop your breast from his suckling. “Too hard?” he asks innocently. Those gentle eyes peer up at you, leaving a twinkling flutter to your belly.

You lift your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Your hand brushes through his brunette locks as you pull him closer into your chest. A scrunch to your nose and you plant a long winded kiss across his lips. A squeeze to your lids and you pull away, even though your body screams at you for doing so.

"Not hard enough, Dr. Reid."

Spencer's eyes open just as his lungs suck in a large breath of air. His gentle hands at your waist now dig into your skin, twisting both your bodies until he rests heavily upon you. His hands reach for your own, wrapping at the wrist and burrowing them into your pillow.

His honey eyes look deep into your soul. They rake over the features of your face. He pulls one of your wrists to his other hands, holding your arms above your head. He then takes his free hand to brush a soft thumb against your cheek bone, down the side of your jaw, and against your lips.

As soon as his eyes return to yours, the words fall from his delicate mouth. "Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?"

You bite your lip, holding back a screaming moan that you didn't know you were capable of. Your head immediately nodding, fully submitting to his intoxicating power. As you do, his thumb pulls at your lip, dragging it down to your chin before placing it gently once more at your cupid's bow. "Good girl."

Spencer's kiss land softly upon your neck. His waving hair tickles the sides of your face as you push against his restraints. Your body innately wishing to hold him, to pull him closer onto your skin - but his fingers squeeze tighter against your wrists. He won't let you go. No, he won't let you out of his grasp, not until he's done with you.

Little moans escape you as his silky pecks travel down to your collar bone. Your lower half folds into him. Legs tightening at his waist, trying to pull him in closer and closer.

His hips bury themselves into you. His breath hot upon your skin, struggling to maintain the sanctity of each kiss. But you can feel it. You can feel him twitching against your thigh. You mewl at the thought of him. They always said the tall, lanky boys had the biggest...

Spencer's forehead presses at your chest, balancing his weight as his fingers massage against your heat. He lets out a low hum as his thumb forms light circles upon your bud. "You're so wet," he whispers before pressing another kiss on your skin. "Are you wet because of me?"

A question so innocent and sweetly asked. His eyes evading from yours as he lands more kisses on your sternum and stomach. You could barely stand it. Your heart flutters in a way that sucks the breath right from under you.

"I've been wet and dying for you to touch me since you got in my bed."

That sweet smile slowly forms on his right side as he dives in for another kiss. His lips wrap around your nipple, sucking gently. Your back arches, pushing your chest further into his warm, drooling mouth. Tight teeth dig onto your sensitive skin making you wince aloud, followed by a tight grin.

His fingers slip under your panties’ hem, slowing dragging them down your legs. He leaves them hooked around your right ankle as his fingers massage into your inner thighs. The sensation almost overwhelming as you take in a harsh breath and adjust yourself beneath him.

"Little sensitive, baby girl?" Spencer asks before crashing his lips on your hip bone. His grasp slowly loosening as his large palm drags down to your sternum. You jump at the fluttering feeling, wanting nothing more than his head between your thighs.

"Let me make you feel better," he utters as his thumb rubs those tight little circles against your clit again. His kisses haunt your heat. His tongue only a mere few inches away, but busy loving on the pudge of your upper thigh.

Hesitantly, your hands float down to your sides. His pecks grow closer and closer to your swollen bits. The wait is becoming almost too much to bear. "Spence," you whimper breathlessly. His touch now like fire against your skin, bursting electricity throughout your body but in such an unnerving way.

You know what your body wants, what it craves.

His head raises, eyes on yours, but his tongue drags up your stomach. He rests against your chest, hands laid on each other with his chin upon them like the cherry on a sundae. "Yes?" he asks with a hint of musicality in his inflection.

"I - I can't take it anymore," you whine, burying the crown of your head into the pillow beneath it. "Please." Your eyes return to him just as that small smile plasters upon his cheek. He moves his hands back to your hips, planting kisses on your stomach until he reaches the very top of your heat.

Spencer's tongue slowly navigates its way down your slit. A loud exhale escapes you and you can finally relax. Your body completely in love with the euphoria it is receiving from the strong muscle.

In the lonely nights where you allowed yourself to wonder, you had always imagined guiding the sweet boy through the process. Teaching him how to lick, where to lick, how fast to lick, and how deep to go.

Not a single ounce of your body was prepared for SS Agent, Dr. Spencer Reid to destroy your pussy without you uttering a single word.

Your fingers find themselves tangled deep within his hair. Your torso curves up to the heavens as you struggle to fathom the undeniable pleasure between your legs. His palm adds a degree of pressure to your breast that sends sparkles to your vision. His fingernails dig into the flesh, but two fingers specifically tend to your nipple - ensuring that it remain hard for him.

Spencer hums against you. The vibrations feel divine, teleporting you to heaven and dropping you back down at an alarming rate. Never once has a man made you feel this fucking good. And, fuck, is it even better knowing that Reid is the one that is making you pray that the licks never stop.

Gradually, you feel his fingers gathering slick within your folds. He releases deep guttural groan upon your touch. The sensation knocks your eye balls right to the back of your head. One palm rests upon his head, while the other digs into the sheets at your side.

He pulls from your heat, breathless as he does. "M'God, you're so wet," he murmurs. His finger flirts with your hole, circling it with a slight pressure. "Do you want it?"

You mewl at his words. You would have never seen him coming. Not this Spencer Reid. Your mind screams at you, screams at you for convincing yourself not to give this a shot, for convincing yourself out of it. "Yes, I want it," you whisper without another second of hesitation.

His grin smirks as a hand rests lightly upon your inner thigh. His thumb rubbing tiny circles into your skin. His breath is hot and heavy against your most sensitive part. His tongue rips between you, flicking the tip against your bud.

Raising his head to watch your reaction, Spencer gradually dives his middle finger within. Your gummy walls take him in, begging for so much more that just a finger. Your chin raises as curses fall from your lips. His smile broadens, beams at the sight. He must like your cursing now...

You can feel his finger brushing ever so lightly against your bumpy surface. Your knees weaken, legs barely holding on. "More," you plead as your hips begin to rut against his delicious fingers.

"Beg for it, Agent," Spencer demands.

Grinding against his fingers, against his face, your eyelashes flutter as you dig deeper into the mattress. "Please, Spence. Please, baby. Please, fuck me." You whine lightly, finding yourself willing to do just about anything to feel more of this pleasure.

He obliges, delving his ring finger in and curling to brush against your G spot. You feel light headed, like the Earth was actually on a globe and someone just spun the shit out of it. You can barely hold back your moans.

Spencer dives in past his second knuckle. Once your walls adjusted to his fingers, he quickens his movement. He lets out breathless moans at the sound of your skin slapping against his. "Oh god," he groans between sweet licks of your clit.

His fingers thrust deeper within you. His delicate hands move quickly, faster than expected. "You're so tight," he whines as he pulls his mouth from your heat and plants a kiss rough and firm against your lips. His tongue plunges against yours, dancing in tandem. Both being barely contained by each other's mouths.

Each push of his fingers forces a whimper from your throat. Spencer moans in response against your lips. He could feel you tightening around his thick fingers. "You're close, aren't you, my baby?" His rhythm is sustained as an unnerving pit rests in the bottom of your stomach.

He breathes heavily against you, pressing his forehead upon yours. His eyes peer down at your body. He enjoys watching your body heave beneath him, watching it twist and wiggle around in pleasure. "Cum for me, baby," he whispers into your ear.

Almost as though you unknowingly needed Spencer's permission, the rubber band in your stomach bursts and your thighs clench around him. The lightheaded feelings returns as you slowly grind against his hand. His fingers still within your pulsating walls. He grinds his cock against your thigh, desperate to get out.

His hand slowly finds it way to your cheek, rubbing a soft thumb across the bone. Your breath heavies as you gradually fall from your high. He guides your chin down as he places a firm peck upon your forehead. He raises your eye line back to him before resting his lips against yours sweet and soft.

"Mmm'you're so good to me," Spencer breathes against your mouth. Another peck and you swear you could see stars. You hum against his kisses, wrangling your fingers through his chocolate waved hair. "You've definitely done that before, haven't you?" you ask.

He runs his tongue across his lips, maintaining his gaze with yours. "I’ve done my research," he whispers before raising the back of your hand to his lips. He lightly lands beside you, hooking his other arm behind your head as he pulls you closer into his embrace.

With a smile and fluttering lashes, your hand travels down the center of his chest and his stomach. Eyes searching for the light brown hair of his happy trail. You bite your lip before flicking your eyes back to his.

Using the base of your palm, you press firmly upon the outline of his girth. Your mouth salivates, flashing thoughts of his cock pushing past your lips. "Mmmmm," Spencer vibrates deep within his throat. His eyes closing as he tilts his head onto yours.

Your finger tips lightly brushing against his boxers. Your own breath hitches as you can clearly feel outline of the mushroomed head. Electricity bursts in you or stomach once again as you massage your fingers up and down his staff.

Spencer groans, faint whispered curses fall from his perfectly innocent lips. "D-don't stop..." he whimpers.

The sound of twinkling bells fill the air.

Your head immediately raises as his eyelids flutter open. "Shit!" You reach for your phone, gripping onto it tight just to reveal the 6:30am alarm. You wince, furrowing your brows as you unwillingly are pulled from the magical and euphoric morning.

Landing back against the mattress, you burrow your head into his neck. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. "It's time," Spencer whispers against your forehead before placing a light kiss. You whine into the crook of his neck, never wanting to leave the warmth of his hold.

"Shhh," he shushes, brushing back a strand of hair from your face. You curl your face up towards him, sporting a pouty lip. "Are you going to be okay?" you ask with concern, knowing a throbbing cock is not exactly painless.

Spencer smirks, eyes raking over your solemn face, before placing a mind blowing kiss on your lips. "Of course." You blush, tucking your chin as you rest your head against his peck. "Maybe after the case..." he suggests with a bouncing brow.

"Hmmm, or during?" you whisper. "I get lonely in my hotel room." He lets out a harsh, ragged breath before pressing his lips together and forming a straight line. He nods, suddenly becoming nonverbal and only being able to communicate with gestures.

The flattery forces a giggle and a blush to your cheeks. Leaving one more kiss onto those sweet, chapped lips, you start to make your way out of bed. He places a supporting hand to the base of your spine as you raise and hook your legs over the side of the bed. You stand, reaching for your trusty work clothes, as your panties slide to your ankle.

Grabbing hold of your dress shirt, you fling your arms through the sleeves before turning back to him to button up. You catch his glimmering eyes watching you, causing you to pause and smile yourself.

"Can we still walk in together?" Spencer asks with eyes scanning your body from head to toe.

"Of course."

note: thanks for entertaining my need for reid! reblog if you enjoy por favor!

• nav • no-no plagiarism • requests open • one shot •

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #bau team #bau reader #smut fic #matthew gray gubler

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thetreetopinn · 4 months

Text

The Innkeeper -- an endo/safe vore writing prompt

Safe vore/endo writing prompt/idea that I might do something with, but others are welcome to take and interpret how they wish.

Check down past the break to read the prompt. I kinda went a little long winded, but it's an idea that when I started writing it out, it just kinda started pouring out.

Enjoy!

A vore hotel of sorts. Just one person who eats people instead of putting them up in a room. We can call this person 'the innkeeper' until a more fitting name and description comes along.

The innkeeper could be just some guy/gal/non-binary pal--human, non-human, or something in between or beyond--who lives in a nice, cozy place that COULD be used for more than one person, like maybe a small family, but they run a business providing lodging to people.

The trick is, if you're looking for a room at the inn, it's gonna be more "in" than most places.

Oh don't worry, the innkeeper is quite friendly and trustworthy. They wouldn't dare do any harm to anyone looking for a safe place to bed down for the night. And they have the amazing ability to swallow just about anyone who can fit in the innkeeper's house, no matter how much bigger they are than the innkeeper themselves.

Curiously enough, they're already playing host to a few other guests, and when you get swallowed up, you've got your own private 'room' somehow. It's warm and squishy and surprisingly comfortable--to say nothing of how surprisingly comforting the sound of the innkeeper's heartbeat and breathing happen to be. You could drift off quite easily in here.

Some find they have a bit of difficulty waking up when it's time to check out because it's just so damn cozy in the innkeeper's belly. The innkeeper has to provide a bit of a wake-up call for many of their guests. They feel bad for doing it, because they hate making someone leave when they're enjoying themselves. Of course, there's also a bit of a greedy desire there. It feels nice housing someone inside, and it's always a little lonely once the innkeeper is completely empty.

Thankfully, the innkeeper has quite the reputation for hospitality and keeping their word, so there's almost always new guests coming to stay with them when it's the season for people to travel and go on holiday. Guests are much more sporadic during the off season, and that leaves the innkeeper a little lonesome, both inside and out.

The innkeeper always enjoys giving their guests safe lodging, because it's very gratifying to be hospitable, to provide an enjoyable and comfortable experience... and also... because they really enjoy waddling around their home with a large, full belly they get to dote on, stroke, and appreciate. They act almost as if they're pregnant and all their guests are their children. It's terribly endearing and it's a silly little notion that the innkeeper rather enjoys letting roll through their head.

Pay no mind to it if the innkeeper starts using terms of affection to refer to you while you're visiting--'sweetie', 'honey', and the like. Some guests actually kind of enjoy the idea of pretending the innkeeper is a sort of surrogate parent while they're visiting. The odd 'mom' or 'dad' might slip out while a guest is talking to the innkeeper... and that makes them just tingle with joy.

No matter how many people the innkeeper is currently housing, they never seem to be as big as they should be. There's some curious magic, science, or magical science at work here that lets them somehow compress or conceal just how big they actually should be. They could be carrying a population of fifteen guests and they wouldn't appear to be anywhere near that size. They would still be plenty big, and they desperately enjoy housing that many, but their belly would only reach down as far as their knees in a large, smooth, round orb that has just enough give to it to feel like a warm, plush, very full pillow.

It's not uncommon for some guests to just cuddle up against the innkeeper's belly and lean on it for warmth and comfort. This never lasts terribly long as the guests tend to prefer to be on the other side--to be the one stretching it out from inside rather than pressing on it from outside. Either way, the innkeeper is happy to accommodate. It's just terribly curious how they can keep their guests comfortable--they never notice any sense of being tightly compacted--while their belly is so much smaller than the sum of everyone in it.

However, once the innkeeper is in bed for the night, they let out a relaxed breath as though they're un-clenching a muscle. As they do this, their belly expands outward, stretching larger and larger until it's just as big as it should be for how many people they've eaten. It feels so good to let everything relax like that. They had a bed specially made and reinforced for exactly this practice. The innkeeper fights to stay awake as long as they can so they can spend all the time they can get caressing and appreciating their guest-filled tummy, delighted with the subtle movements and sounds everyone inside makes.

The innkeeper's favorite guests are the ones that come in pairs--romantic couples, like boyfriends, girlfriends, married couples, and the like--or even better, small groups that are polycules. Oh those always feel the best, because the innkeeper can feel them snuggling up together, exploring one another's bodies, taking advantage of the privacy to be intimate if they so desire. There's no need to worry that their activities might be heard or felt by other guests. The innkeeper is perfectly able to keep such things isolated from other 'rooms'... unless someone enjoys hearing and feeling that coming from near by.

Yes, life is pretty good for the innkeeper. They make their own hours. They get to meet all sorts of interesting people. They get to enjoying sharing their hospitality. They get to luxuriate in the sensation of a huge, full belly. And they even get to play host to their guests when they want to come back out for something--the innkeeper is actually quite a good cook and is happy to prepare meals for their guests to enjoy when their guests aren't out exploring the area for the day, or snuggled back up inside the innkeeper's safe, warm belly.

The only thing the innkeeper might long for is a companion--someone who isn't just passing through. It would be rather nice to have a partner to enjoy their lovely home with, someone to rub their belly when they let it stretch back out at the end of the day, someone to cuddle with at night, and maybe, possibly, someone who likes to think of themselves as a 'permanent guest'.

The idea of having someone move in with them tickles the innkeeper. Their new roommate or romantic partner splits their time helping to maintain the household, fawning over the innkeeper's belly, and being inside it for great, long stretches of time. The partner knows all the best places to caress, both inside and out, and they love to murmur sweet nothings out to their innkeeper while they're inside--just silly, mushy nothings that make both the innkeeper and their partner melt in a goofy sense of happiness.

Or maybe their companion might take up the practice themselves. Instead of just one very full belly waddling around the house, there could be two of them, bumping into each other, sharing the joys of being full of their guests, sitting on the couch pressing the sides of their tummies together to bask in the sensation of it all. Then at night, when they both let everything relax and they both stretch out as large as they should be, they tend to their own bellies as well as the other's. Such a notion would be a terribly wonderful thing to experience... but those like the innkeeper seem to be rare. Not so much others who can swallow someone whole like the innkeeper, that is actually fairly common. But more the manner in which the innkeeper uses their abilities--that is what is hard to come by.

'Predator' is a word that could be used to describe the innkeeper but they don't like it. It sounds too vicious, too cruel, and the innkeeper is anything but. Sure, they might be a little... possessive... sometimes, but never cruel, never so selfish to think of their guests as "only food". Yes, it is technically possible that the innkeeper could just keep everyone they eat, even digest them, but that simply feels wrong to them. And yes, there are others out there like the innkeeper, able to perform the same kind of act--though so many of them are exactly the sort of 'predator' the innkeeper does not want to be like. The innkeeper has played host to a few of these other 'predators' before. Some did not enjoy their stay and so the innkeeper would let them out and bid them farewell. Some found they enjoyed the experience and wondered if it might be possible to learn how to mimic the act themselves.

The innkeeper did not hold much hope for 'converting' others with their abilities, but there was always a chance. And teaching someone how to do what the innkeeper does--while it is exceedingly rare--is a terribly gratifying experience. Giving someone else the joy the innkeeper gets to feel... that is a marvelous gift.

Maybe someday the innkeeper will find someone who wishes to learn their ways and stay with them, to 'expand the inn' so to speak. Or maybe someday the innkeeper will find someone who just wishes to make their home with them--to make the innkeeper their home. They could be a guest they've had before and that person just needs to find their way back 'home'. It could be someone they've not met before, a new guest who--upon discovering the innkeeper and their hospitality--decides that there isn't anywhere they'd rather be than in the innkeeper's arms... or their stomach.

#safe vore #endo vore #endosomatophilia #writing prompt #belly kink #cuddly vore #belly hotel is best hotel #check out times are flexible #oh you would like to extend your stay?#don't mind me I'm just enjoying sharing my hospitality with you #soft vore #v0re

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honney-pies · 5 months

Text

Ma Cherie ❤︎₊ ⊹

Chapter vi: Absence

Pairing: Inuokku/ F! Reader

Summary: the loss of someone in your life can be hard to navigate around, even more so when a relationship had only recently blossomed.

Length: 3.09k

A/N: hey y’all, i know it’s been a long time since i posted and that partially because things kept on popping up and i kinda forgot this fic even existed lol. I’m really sorry guys, I know it’s a short chapter, but i’ve had a lot of stuff going on this week and was unable to really sit down and write. Luckily my finals are now officially over, so i’ll have more time to write. I’m currently writing the next chapter, so that’ll be out sooner rather than later—if I remember to post lol. also the start is kinda weird and repetitive, i didn’t really know how to start it and i felt bad for making y’all wait this long

Ma Cherie Masterlist

While it’s only been three months out of the eight scheduled months of Yuta’s time abroad, Toge is going insane. He misses Yuta’s warmth, his reassurance, love, and his ability to understand (Y/n) in ways that he is unable to — even after all these years. The two still text and FaceTime regularly, but it’s not the same. (Y/n) helps to ease the pain, but their relationship had been so new when he left, it pains them both. In the days before Yuta left, (Y/n) scheduled them full of random date ideas, but this did nothing to slow the flow of tears at the airport as Yuta left for Africa with Miguel.

(Y/n), like her beloved, is losing her sanity. Don’t get her wrong, she loves Toge — she would’ve figured a way around the marriage if this wasn’t the case — but Yuta’s a breath of fresh air. A breath the young couple both desired and consumed to the fullest.

The dynamic between the two hadn’t necessarily been awkward once Yuta left, but after spending nearly every waking moment with someone, the relationship molds itself to have the other in it all the time. Yuta leaving made them reform their relationship for the fifth time. At first it had been (Y/n)andtoge and yuta, then it became (Y/n)andtogeandyuta. It was still the three of them, but with newfound distance they had been unprepared for.

One of the ways the trio compromised with the thousands of miles of useless space was many calls, texts, photos, and videos. This led to (Y/n) ‘asking’ her adoptive dad to upgrade her phone plan to accommodate the plethora of content growing in her phone.

“Toru-nii, I changed my storage plan. I got 2TB.”

“What?”

“It’s an extra forty dollars, so just a warning.”

“… Okay?”

“You’re paying for it.”

“When am I not paying for something?”

“ ‘Kay, thanks!”

With the accompanying spare time of one less person to be with, (Y/n) has been filling her days evolving her cursed technique, working on her friendship with her older brother, preparing Megumi for the dorms-

“I’m an empty nester!”

“You’re literally my teacher.”

“(Y/n)-Chan and Megumi-Chan are abandoning me!”

“We’re still seeing you everyday, Toru-nii.”

“Oh, I can still hear their voices haunting me. Dear Fates, what have I done to have been handed such a cruel deal in life?” (This can be applied to many situations in JJK, and frankly, it hurts).

Megumi grumbled before shuffling towards his warden, who’s on his knees in fake hysterics, and placed a gentle hand on Gojo’s head. No infinity stopping him. (Y/n) smiled softly and walked over to her small family. She wrapped her arms around her boys tightly.

-which has been fun. He got a room the hall over from his adoring, darling, dearest sister. However, this does little to thwart (Y/n) appearing at random. She felt it was her sisterly duty to materialize from thin air and either claim a spot in his room and play with his shikigami or would request his assistance.

Toge and (Y/n) had more time together than they’ve had in a while, but that did little to squash the ache in their chest for the absence of Yuta. Their beds were bigger and colder. Their rooms were more barren, and their days more boring. There wasn’t anyone else besides the two of them for a long time then they found another, only for them to leave and it hurt far more than they anticipated.

Toge and (Y/n) had been togeand(Y/n) for as long as they could remember; promised to each other at the ripe ages of three and four. Even though they never considered an addition to their love, Yuta wormed his way into their hearts and lives before leaving soon after. They didn’t know what to do, they didn’t know how to function.

Yuta wasn’t there to hang out with Megumi and make (Y/n)’s heart soar beyond belief. Yuta wasn’t there to get the things that the two of them couldn’t reach because they were both fairly short. Yuta wasn’t there to help ease the pain of Toge’s sore throat. Yuta wasn’t there to help on the days where (Y/n) could hardly get out of bed, so wracked with guilt and despair that the very thought of leaving the world hidden away beneath her covers was impossible.

Some times (Y/n)’s glad that he isn’t there, to be honest. She already feels bad enough that everyone has to see her on the days where everything is too much and she just wants to fade from this life and wait for the next one. After Yuta left, it got too much to handle. One less person to distract herself by giving every possible ounce of affection and adoration she could. (Y/n) tried to keep it to herself and deal with it in the early hours of the morning and the late hours of the night, but this did little to stop her melt down.

She became erratic during training, sloppy running drills, and has less self preservation. (Y/n) didn’t mean for any of this to happen, at least she doesn’t think so. She doesn’t want to die. She wants to grow all gross and wrinkly with her friends, family and lovers. She really does. However, in the hours where everything is still, in the hours where she has time to feel and remember, she can’t help but hurt.

—————

One day on a job with Noritoshi, everything came to a head. She lost control for the first time in a very long time. Her older brother, who had never seen this happen, did the only thing he could and called his teacher. Utahime arrived to see the siblings covered in blood, all the curses had been slaughtered and laid dismembered around them. Noritoshi held his little sister as tightly as he could as she sat quietly. Utahime, who also had never seen the girl like this, did the only thing she could and called Gojo.

“Ah Utahime, to what do I owe the pleasure-“

“Kamo-san, she’s… she’s…” The rustling of fabric and small voices in protests could be heard on the other end.

“What about my daughter? Did she get hurt under your watch? Where are you?” Gojo’s voice becoming that of a stern one laced with desperation gave Utahime whiplash.

“She’s not hurt, in fact I don’t think anything even touched her-”

“Spit it out.”

“She’s dripping in blood and there’s carcasses scattered everywhere, Gojo. Is there something I need to know?”

“I will be there soon. Call me again if there are any spikes in cursed energy.” Before Utahime could respond, the line clicked and an annoying jingle could be heard. The teacher and student watched as (Y/n) slowly blinked and reached into her skirt pocket, pulling out her phone.

Obviously it’s the one that came out just a few days ago, only the best for Gojo’s little girl.

“Dad.” The two strained their ears to hear the other end of the conversation, the girl rarely refers to Gojo as her dad around others.

“No, I’m not hurt.”

“No, it’s not my blood.”

“Yes, I’m with Nori-nii now.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Utahime wondered just how often this child has seen tragedy befall others for her to still be able to converse while being so clearly not okay. It’s a thought that made her uncomfortable, so she removed it from her mind to contemplate at a later date.

Like so many others.

Gojo arrived soon after and strode straight towards (Y/n). Noritoshi hesitantly handed her to him. Gojo pulls her taught to his chest and cradles her as he used to when they were younger. A time that felt so long ago. (Y/n) curled her hand into his clothes and cried. This made even more weight fall heavily on Satoru’s heart.

((Y/n) is a girl who cries often, this is true. She cries when: she watches a sad movie or show, when she reads a sad book, when she sees something adorable, when she’s angry, when she laughs hard enough, when she’s on her period, and occasionally when she shits. Despite this, she doesn’t typically cry when others think she should. (Y/n) has days where most can predict her tears, and most of the time they’re correct, but those are only a handful of days. Her family and friends have familiarized themselves with these dates and plan everything they can around it. She cries on her birthday, Christmas Eve, mid November, and her fallen loved one’s death days. Unfortunately, (Y/n) will soon not know life without tear stained cheeks and red eyes. She will survive, for better or for worse we do not know, but not without a trail of immense pain that will try to drown her at every turn).

“My sweet, baby girl. You’re safe. I’m here,” he murmurs softly for (Y/n)’s ears only. However, the silence that surrounds them allows the others to hear. Noritoshi feels slightly envious that (Y/n)’s father is so warm. He quickly banishes the thought, remembering some of the things she has had to endure to get the loving family she so rightfully deserves.

Satoru slowly turned and began to walk, not before turning back into his ‘strongest’ facade and looking at the other two.

“I don’t need to worry about a report on this.” This is not a question, nor is it a request. He stated it as an absolute, an indisputable fact such as the sky being blue or him being able to kill them without so much as lifting an arm. Utahime nodded quickly, so Noritoshi followed suit.

The father and daughter make their exit, letting Utahime finally ask questions.

“(Y/n) is in so much pain and I don’t think I will ever know just how deeply she has been hurting.”

This was the only information Noritoshi was willing to divulge to his elder. Utahime pats her student on the back, sighing, before getting back up.

“We will not breathe a word of this to anyone, not even your classmates or your father. Do you understand?” Noritoshi nodded his head.

“Yes, sensei.”

(Y/n) had spent the remainder of the day at home, in the luxurious penthouse Gojo had bought for their growing family. Her room, like the one at school, is covered with many different things. The only difference is that these things are far more personal and bittersweet than the ones at her dorm. Mementos of special occasions and intimate reminders of those she lost. It even smells of the past, of a time where all she knew was her mothers death, Suguru’s downfall, and the warmth of those close to her.

Rumor has it that Miguel spent hours either restraining or pleading Yuta to stay with him in Africa rather than be at his girlfriend's side. Toge is the person who ultimately convinced him to not come home. As much as he wanted him to, it would have only led to an extension of his time abroad.

———————

It’s not a very apparent thing, her pain. Only to those who know her well enough. So when she, and the rest of her classmates, gets summoned away for a mission and leaves her brother on his own, she’s fine. However, when she gets a call where all she can hear is her little brother wracked with sobs, she is far from okay. Her first thought is that Satoru is dead, which is quickly proven wrong when Ijichi pulls up with a message from him. She rushes to pile her necessities from the hotel which they were staying at and hurriedly gives her friends a goodbye and Toge a kiss on the cheek. Maki wouldn’t let her leave until she promised to give her a text when she got back to school and another text later that night.

Megumi, to put it gently, is a complete and utter wreck. He has snot dripping down his nose onto, and most likely into, his mouth. His eyes are puffy and his soft, porcelain skin has become red. (Y/n) desperately wants to whip out her phone and take a picture in order to blackmail him at a later date, but her first priority is to make sure her brother is okay, which he clearly isn’t.

“ ‘Gumi-” He practically launches himself through the air and into his big sister’s arms, seeking any comfort he can.

“He-he’s gone, nee-san! He’s gone!” (Y/n)’s brows furrow. “Who’s gone, ‘gumi?”

“Itadori!” (Y/n)’s eyes widen slightly, she has heard of the boy and how remarkable he is from her dad and brother. She didn’t think that Sukuna would have let his vessel die so soon, but she pushes the logic away from her mind for the moment. Megumi comes first, all else comes second.

“Oh, ‘gumi.” Megumi’s voice cracks repeatedly as his cries become louder. They might have only known each other for a small period of time, but Itadori clearly made a long lasting impression on her brother.

“He left me, (Y/n)!” (Y/n)'s heart aches with the remnants of her brother’s. She cradles him in her arms through the tears, even when he tires himself out from crying. Satoru arrives later in the night, noticeably distraught. He watches silently from the entrance of the room as (Y/n) and Megumi curl tightly around each other in his room. Satoru gently closes the door behind him and slips off his shoes, moving quietly towards the bed, wiggling his way behind his kids. He moves them closer to him and holds them tightly to his body.

The next day, after a little bit more crying, (Y/n) is introduced to Kugisaki Nobara, a sweet, headstrong girl. The two get along splendidly and the older of the two listens dutifully as Nobara speaks of Itadori. Even though she calls him an idiot, moron, and dumbass, (Y/n) knows that his death has rocked her deeply.

Later she questions Satoru about the incident, and his answers are vague at best.

“You’ll be very upset with me when you find out the truth.” (Y/n) sighs before placing a hand on his arm.

“You’re our dad, so I trust you blindly, but please think of Megumi in your choices.” Satoru has a solemn look on his face when she says this.

“I’m doing the smartest thing I can, I’m trying to keep everyone safe.” (Y/n) hums softly.

“So he is alive?” Satoru looks at his daughter, a slight twitch in his expression is all it takes for (Y/n) to know she’s correct. Sometimes Satoru can forget just how brilliant his daughter is.

“If you think it’s best to keep it quiet, I’ll follow your lead, but if I find out otherwise I’m telling them.” He nods. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Two days later, The other second years make the journey home while (Y/n) is in a meeting with the higher ups. An awful, boring, useless meeting. They desire to make her feel small and worthless, and above all else try to make her feel weak and (Y/n) hates feeling weak. She knows full well she can kill them. She knows her place above them, Satoru and Suguru had made sure of it, but that does little to help her when all they do is berate her and piss her off.

“For the last time, I don’t know anything about the circumstances of Itadori Yuji’s death, I can only assume it was during a mission. No, I have never met him. All second years have been on a mission for the past couple of weeks. Yes, I arrived home earlier than my peers to comfort Fushiguro after receiving news of his state. Should I find out that you had a hand in the death of an innocent child and our only way of stopping Sukuna, I will gladly let you know of my stance on the matter. However, I can save you the time and remind you who raised me. Now, I excuse myself from this unnecessary meeting.” Gojo is, of course, right outside the door when she steps out.

“That’s my girl.” (Y/n) smiles at him and walks with him to the car. The two play hand games in the back seat and make their way towards the school. When (Y/n) steps out of the car, she looks at Gojo to follow, but he doesn’t exit.

“I have a job, but I’ll come see you when I’m done. Keep an eye on Megumi?” (Y/n) frowns, but nods nonetheless. “Of course.”

She closes the car door with a slightly harder than necessary shove and walks up the stairs towards the entrance of the school.

“Wait… someone did die?” (Y/n) immediately recognizes her best friend's voice and hurriedly walks over.

“I told you in my text, or did you not read it?” Maki looks over her shoulder and rests her arm on (Y/n). “I skimmed it.” (Y/n) scoffs, “Rude.” Maki shoves her playfully.

“Kam-“

“(Y/n)”

“(Y/n)-san, are you friends with this girl?” (Y/n) looks at Nobara and nods.

“They’re my classmates. Don’t mind Maki, she didn’t mean to appear insensitive. Well at least, I don’t think she meant to.” Maki swats at the girl. She feels her fiancé’s hand intertwining itself with her own and she can’t help but smile. Nobara clearly sees this exchange due to the now grossed out expression on her face. (Y/n) just smiles sweetly at her and can hear Megumi gag faintly. She subtly sticks her tongue at the demon spawn.

In the future, (Y/n) will look back on this memory with fondness. In the future she will weep at the thought of how her brother once was and the fading remnants of Megumi in her mind. She will mourn her short lived friends, the impact they had on her with the small amount of time she had with them. She will think of the plethora of ‘what ifs’ that continuously plague her mind. (Y/n) will remember the final moments of her childhood and innocence with that lingering bitterness that follows nostalgia.

In the future (Y/n) will have one single wish of having that Time Turner from Harry Potter her Suguru would read to her as a small child.

______

Tysm for reading and i hoped you liked it! The next chapter, phosphenes, will be posted eventually. As always, this is crossposted on ao3 and nothing else. Please let me know if y’all find this somewhere else!

#honney-pies #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #inumaki toge #ma cherie #inumaki x okkotsu #inumaki x reader #inuokko #okkotsu yuuta #inuokko x reader #yuta x reader

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riewritten · 1 year

Note

hi love ur writing sm

can we get part 2 of erwin x marley reader ?

i got this req more than a month ago, and as much as i hate to admit it, i think this will get more than a part 2. oh my god. oh my GOD. i have nothing but my impulses to blame.

THE WORST KIND OF NOTHING

CHAPTERS: 2/10 (TENTATIVE) | READ CHAPTER 1 HERE

PAIRING: ERWIN SMITH & FEM!READER & ZEKE YEAGER

leaving the pairing ambiguous for now bc i honestly don't know what will happen

WORDS: 1.5k | AO3 | FANFICTION

TAGS: Manga S4 spoilers, Canon AU – The Attack on Liberio Failed, Violence, Psychological Warfare, Manipulation, Character Study, Enemies to ? heh... let us see

It’s as if you are born once again in a pristine body devoid of any memories.

Except that it wasn’t in any way pristine, nor were you a newly-born infant.

You are lying on a ruined land, rough ground forming blisters on your bare back. When you sat up, what daunted was a doomsday: a village piled with carcasses, full of dead bodies. You are the only one alive—no, you are the only one unbruised out of all that had died. You don’t remember anything.

It’s as if you are born once again in a pristine body devoid of any memories.

Except that it wasn’t in any way pristine, nor were you a newly-born infant.

You are nothing. In a vast space with nothing but carcasses, the only thing you have is a body, not even clothes that the corpses wear.

It is until a blonde man with a beard and glasses spoke from behind, “Aren’t you cold?” He knelt and wrapped you up with a thick white cloth. “That’ll do for now, would you mind? I can’t afford my soldiers blushing amidst this tragic scene.” It sounded like a joke — at least you had the baseline comprehension to understand so. “Yelena, it’s all clear!”

“Who are you?”

He put his hand on his chin as if to think about it, so lack of seriousness and urgency as if no one’s dead at all. His face soon changed when he laid his eyes on you again, “Shall we have a deal first?”

“Who are you?”

“Look at your surroundings. Do you have any idea what just happened?”

Roaming your eyes all over, your question really did change. You gulped as fear reckoned inside, “What happened?”

“You killed them. All of them.” And unlike his jokey tone, he scooted his face nearer to whisper with dead eyes, “And I could do the same to you right now with one wrong move.” If his goal was to intimidate, it sure did work; your primal urge to survive kicked in, proving a semblance of humanity in your empty vessel. “I won’t make things complicated. All I want is for you to accept my deal.”

You stared at him, blank and confused, and thus his face turned casual again.

“Don’t get too scared, though! I’ll give you the benefit of a decent life despite all the lives that you took from my men!”

That was the last ping for you to understand the gist of your disposition. He really wasn’t lying because lots of corpses are wearing the same uniform as him. Fear reeked further inside with nothing in mind but the primal desire to survive.

“What’s the deal all about?”

The question was followed by a painful injection shot on your nape. Zeke got a bit surprised but it was followed by a chuckle, “Don’t just strike from behind, Yelena.”

“You can save the talk for later, Zeke. We should neutralize her first. Who knows what she can do?”

You resisted out of impulse, but the said Yelena grabbed your head and shoved it at Zeke’s chest. You can almost feel your neck tear apart with the reeking pang of fluid. You can hear it gushing. You can feel how huge the needle is. You groaned and wiggled away, but Zeke caught you in his arms with soothing hums. It won’t take long, it won’t take long. There, there, young lady. You can do it.

When the fluid emptied, Yelena harshly dropped you and then tied your arms behind your back. The cloth fell off; she heeded it no mind. Zeke let out a light tsk, “Have some pity on her. Can’t you feel how cold the breeze is?” But then he got distracted by the blister on your stomach. “Oh, poor you. We have to treat this later on.”

“Quite unique that your eyes are not lurking around her boobs."

Zeke shook his head in dismay then nonchallantly wrapped you up with the cloth again, “That’s very untimely, Yelena.”

“Continue your talk. We’ll be waiting at the base."

You felt utterly dizzy. Your vision is wobbly and Zeke is multiplying kaleidoscopically. He knew it well hence he held onto your shoulders for support. “So speaking of the deal…”

“Deal…” you blankly muttered with the last bits of consciousness.

“There, there,” Zeke’s palm caught your cheek that was about to fall on the ground. “Be a good soldier by my side and you shall live that undeservingly decent life. That’s a bit generous offer, don’t you think?”

“H-huh…”

“Think about it, I couldn’t be so generous anymore if you were to turn me down. The least that I could do by then is make you choose how you want to die.” He tapped your cheek. “Hear me? Oh, don’t tell me you’re about to faint. You hadn’t even told me your name yet!”

“H…hah…”

When your consciousness fluttered away for good, you felt him catch you. The kaleidoscope roamed all over your vision until it was no more. His soothing voice slowly transitioned into tip taps of the water, and the reeking smell of corpses changed into a rusty chamber. When you opened your eyes again, what daunted is still a blonde, but it’s not Zeke anymore.

“That’s quite rude, spacing out in the middle of a life-changing contract.” Erwin deadpanned.

“What?” roaming around the surroundings answered the prompt. You’re in a torture chamber and the Commander is forming up a shenanigan. “The deal, yeah, we’re talking about a deal.”

“A loyal wildcard that wouldn’t break for me in exchange for a decent life amidst the crimes you had done with my men — was my offer too much to handle for your consciousness to slip away? I thought it was a generous one.”

Oh, nothing had changed. From the first memory you ever had of this world up to your tied-up figure now, you still have nothing. Nothing but generous offers of blondes who would kill you in a snap for noncompliance.

“What do you know about me? Let’s start from that before running through the deal.”

“You’re speaking as if I could offer you another choice.”

“I can’t deal with someone who doesn’t know the hell he is trying to pry in.”

The Commander nodded at the given point, impressed. Without further ado, he shoved the medical equipment away and pulled your chair so you’d hear properly the things he was about to say. “The mysterious massacre at the Marleyan port involving soldiers and citizens alike. I heard that caused an impediment with the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers and yet…” he tipped his head to the side, looking a bit too curious about the answer. You’re uncertain if he’s just messing around or he really doesn’t know. “It was reported that the instigator was safe kept by Zeke and masked as a newly recruited underling. Oh, if only there weren’t any witnesses.”

The Commander stood up and walked behind your back and — much to your uncomfortability — glazed his fingers on your nape. He lightly pressed on a spot in the middle; the jitters ran through your nerves, roaring your heartbeat louder. “And as we speak, serum fluid is running through your nerves. How cruel of him to put you on a leash without your consent.”

Your breathing went labored, hands went colder — this man really knows what he’s talking about; he very much knows the hell he is trying to pry in. Maybe—just maybe—he even knows more than you.

His hands slid towards your shoulder next. He leaned his head, mouth nearer to your ear so you’d hear the first package of his deal, “Since it’ll be your first job under my command, I won’t impose much burden on your hands. All you have to do is prove that you really can be an unbreakable weapon for the Scouts.”

Despite the utter feeling of powerlessness, of lack of control, of lack of everything since the day you got “born,” you kept yourself intact. “How would I do that?” The question was muttered with no hint of bother, just as you vehemently attempted so.

“You just have to wait until he screams. If you turned into a titan, then my soldiers would release you of your despair. If not, then you don’t have to prove anything else — our deal officially starts by then.”

You just have to wait until he screams. If you turned into a titan, then my soldiers would release you of your despair.

If you’d be honest, your powerlessness includes ignorance. Not even you know the answer to that question — that’s what tied you to the sweet ruthless Zeke after all.

However, despite the looming answers, you had quite a twisted wish.

You wish his scream would really turn you into a mindless monster, which Erwin’s crew could dispose of so quickly. The most pleasant deal you’ve gotten so far was his, after all. The pleasant deal of releasing you of your short-lived despair — of the lives you took, of the leash tied at you, of the shackles wrapping your hands behind your back.

The best deal you’ve got was with the Commander of this hell of an island.

With that in mind, you looked him in the eye and nodded, “Not like I have something else to lose.”

The Commander, now satisfied with the ordeal, offered you a cordial smile. “Worry not, I swear to treat you better than they did.”

🏷 @frenchdyer @watyousayin | SUBSCRIBE HERE

WELP… that took quite a dark turn. for context of this AU, i’m exploring a rather dead theory about how ymir just altered the canon timeline so eren would have no choice but to do the rumbling! i don’t believe in that theory myself but for the sake of this fanfic, this will revolve in a setting where:

mikasa ANSWERED eren properly (you're not just a family something something) and so they ran away together. BUT DON'T worry, eren will still run behind the curtains. his characterization just wouldn't sit still, i know) and;

both armin and erwin lived

but why these two variables? why did ymir not alter the timeline in favor of the rumbling? that’s where you enter the picture. good luck!

ALSO, sharing this colossal titan!erwin smith. whew.

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