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#And also not bottle shit up so fuckin much
stuckinapril · 2 months
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I’m finally biting the bullet and contacting a therapist today after being ambivalent ab it for so long… this hellsite has its many disadvantages but one thing I can say is it has truly helped me be less scared of pursuing therapy. Silver lining etc etc
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uselessgaywhovian · 6 months
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how to bring up to your dungeon master that your character might be better if she got railed
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donatellawritings · 24 days
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hiii mamita!! first off i wanna say i love ur writing and characterization SO MUCH!! ur my absolute fav latina representation in this fandom and im sending u sososo much love <3 secondly, could we pretty pls have rafe w latina reader who’s constantly using spanish around him and he eventually understands her enough to get some things but doesn’t say anything until she says something slick one day under her breath and he calls her out so she’s like oops🫢🫢🤭
tysm for the kind words, angel <3
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this is so bff!rafe coded …
rafe was an obsessively busy man — the poor guy just had to keep himself occupied, or he’d find himself slipping off into the deep end. so, he never actually took the time to learn spanish, but he had a pretty basic understanding of the language, solely thanks to the fact that he spent most, if not, all of his free time around you, listening to your jumbled rants. and it was clear to him which words were profane and insulting, by the way you’d huff and roll your eyes whenever they rolled off of your tongue.
you see, rafe was fully aware of your bitchy side and how your sweet and delicate demeanor could quickly flip into a bratty and entitled state, especially when you didn’t get what you want — which just so happened to be your current dilemma with rafe.
it was simple — you wanted to soak up some sun in your brand new frankie’s bikinis two-piece, while your bossy best friend, rafe was adamant about going to the country club to catch up with topper and kelce, over a glass of whiskey.
lifting your miu miu sunglasses to sit atop of your shiny blown out hair, you leaned your head back against the cushion of your lounger, the sun deliciously biting your bronze skin, “pendejo,” you mumbled, rolling your bambi eyes as rafe began to walk away from where you reclined.
stopping dead in his tracks, rafe cocks his buzzed head to the side, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, “the fuck did y’just say to me?” he spoke, his voice low as he approaches you with quick and long strides, before yanking you up to your feet by your elbow.
with pouted lips, you kept your eyes away from rafe’s, “i didn’t say anyth—”
letting out an unamused chuckle, rafe grabs your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his, “y’lucky i don’t break y’fuckin jaw,” he warns, harshly releasing your face from his tight grip as he watches your eyes well with tears, “don’t start that cryin’ shit — fuckin’ kid,” he spits, balling his fists at his side for a brief moment, before opening his hands, muttering under his breath as he walks away from you.
furiously knuckling away the tears that threatened to spill down your flushed cheeks, you keep your head down, a wobbly pout on your swollen lips.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
rafe didn’t go to the country club that afternoon. and you sat by the pool for about an hour, mindlessly splashing your french pedicured feet in the light blue pool water — you hated when rafe was upset, more so when you were the reason for his anger. but, you also knew how volatile and impulsive the son of ward could become, so you decided to wait it out for as long as you could.
rising to your feet, wet footprints stained the pavement as you padded towards the door, you eyes sparkling with shock as rafe walked through the door, “what are y’still doin’ here?” he questions blankly, monotone and all as he brushes past you, shoulders tense and jaw locked.
ignoring the way your tummy swirled and churned with disappointment, you exhaled sharply through your button nose, deciding to force yourself to be unfazed by rafe’s harsh words, “i don’t like when you’re mad at me,” you whine, dragging yourself where rafe sat, legs spread and a sweaty bottle of cold beer in hand.
taking a quick swig of the beer, rafe shrugs, “and i don’t like when y’get a smart fuckin’ mouth with me, just because y’wanna be a spoiled fuckin’ kid,” he counters sharply, setting the beer down beside his foot.
you really pissed him off.
nodding your head, you quietly brought yourself to straddle your best friend’s hips, noticing the way he licked over his lips, before pressing them into a tight line, “can i give you a besito? i’m really sorry, rafey,” you sighed, batting your cutesy lashes as your softly brought your nails to scratch at rafe’s abdomen.
remaining silent, rafe earned a playful eye roll from you as you leaned your tits into his chest, pressing your full lips into his structured cheek with quick pecks, “i - mwah - am - mwah - sorry - mwah - papito,” you giggled between kisses, sealing your apologies with a stolen kiss to rafe’s lips.
craning his neck back to get a better look at you, your skin all bronzy and dewy from your earlier suntan, rafe raises his eyebrows, “papito? that’s a new one,” he comments, raising a hand to rest on your the sweaty skin of your lower back.
with wide doe eyes and parted lips, you gasp, “you like it?!”
letting out a defeated sigh, rafe pulls you in by the back of your neck to press a kiss to the top of your warm hair, “yeah, s’cute, kid.”
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princessbrunette · 7 months
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kinktober : oct 17th
captain price x handjob
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one thing about price, is that his pants are always gonna fit snug around the crotch.
you’ve giggled about it before, laying half over his thigh in bed after he’d come home late snuggling into you — half asleep asking why he always wears such ‘tempting pants’ only for him to chuckle nonchalantly, saying something along the lines of “gotta give my best girl a show, don’t I?” before shushing you to back to sleep.
it became your favourite sight once he’d arrive home to you, his sweet doting wife, who can only try her very best to keep her eyes on his in conversation when his cock was practically looking at you first, heavy and visible in his pants, tight belt at his hips only accentuating the shape. you wondered if he was always half hard or something, or if he really was just that long and thick.
sometimes you couldn’t control yourself, you’d just wanna touch on him.
there’s no complaints from john as you lean up to kiss him slow and needy in the hallway when he’d arrive home in all his gear, your hand sliding down his stomach and caressing his bulge, a moan torn from your throat at just the shape under your hand. he smirks to himself, thinking you want something from him. “two steps through the door and you’re asking to get dicked down. y’think m’not tired, love?” he smirks against your mouth, fully willing to give you whatever you want regardless.
you whine a little, and as much as you’d love that— you’re just in the mood to take your time and play with him. so, you drag him to the couch and shove a beer into his hand, the full breadwinner treatment as you unzip his pants. “just wanna play with it. want you to relax, john.” you tell him sweetly through your eyelashes, holding that eye contact as you drool into your palm. he exhales, jaw slack as he shakes his head.
“i must be the luckiest man on earth.” he chuckles, low in his chest and you hum with a sweet little hazed out smile, lips still a little wet from drooling on your hand as you begin to tug at his cock.
“y’so big.” you practically mewl as you slowly stroke him up and down, twisting your hand for his pleasure.
“yeah?” he responds, lips against the tip of his beer bottle as he sips, voice slightly muffled into it and brows furrowed as he watches the movement of your hand. “fuck.” he whispers post swallow.
“mhm…” your voice is breathy and moan-y, and he can’t help but sit forward, reaching to pull you closer.
“you want me to fuck you like this, sweetheart?” he gruffs, placing his beer aside. you pant, your free hand pressing at his chest as you shake your head with doe eyes.
“just wanna see you cum like this, please? can have me afterwards…” you beg, not breaking the eye contact once again as you lean forward and drool, letting it hit the tip, your fingertips smoothing over it and massaging it into his cock.
“fuckin’ ell.” he scratches his beard, tipping his head back against the couch and spreading his thighs, the sight making you wish you took up his offer, but also glad you were being patient. “little minx, you are.” he smirks, his eyes still shut.
soon, his stomach is tensing, and he’s reaching out to grab the nearest thing to him, which happened to be a couch cushion, digging his fingers in as he pants. “shit, baby. right fuckin’ there.” he groans before spitting out pearly liquid into your palm, letting it drip down your wrist. you let out whimpers just at the feeling and how good he looked coming undone.
he finally comes down, barely aware of the feeling of the couch shifting beside him. when he finally comes to, reaching out for you and opening his eyes — he’s stopped in his tracks to see you with your panties off, eagerly using his cum as lube as you stroke your fingers hungrily through your own folds, whimpering. he eyes you with a tongue pressed into his cheek before shaking his head, regaining his strength as he pushes himself up to pin you on your back. “little fuckin’ tease, aren’t you?”
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fraugwinska · 26 days
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Going with the times was amazing! Thank you so much. If I may can I get another Alastor x Reader who is a very affectionate person like always going in for hugs if she's close to them and she gets drunk and starts trying her hardest to give Husk a hug because he looks so grumpy, so he summons Alastor to come get his girlfriend. Who then gets incredibly happy to see him and just clings to him after he picks her up. Id also like to see Angels reaction to all of this.
You are awesome!
No, YOU are awsome! :> I do love Husk and Angel together, throw drunken Reader into the mix and we have ourselfes some chaos :D I sincerely hope you like it! <3
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Take the edge off
It had started so innocently. 
For the first time since you met him, Husk had actually, actively invited you for an after-dinner-sendoff-drink at the bar, along with Angel. 
Coming from him, the one that had been the most on the fence with you, you didn't dare to pass this opportunity. It was understandable though. Husk had a deep distrust in Alastor, and, by proxy, in you when he had introduced you to the surprised residents as his ‘courtship’. 
You had visited the hotel often after that, staying for activities or dinners, bringing over some baked goods or homemade treats if your work schedule allowed time for it, lending listening ears and comforting hugs in spades to anyone who needed it and earned the admiration - or at least acceptance of your presence - from almost everyone over time. Almost. 
Husk, ever the skeptic, had made it clear to you he wouldn't want to have any relations to demons who chose to stay at Alastor's side, let alone his ‘partner’. 
But you stubbornly persisted, even though it had hurt, even though Alastor would pat your head and tell you it was wasted labor - you still tried, bringing an extra bottle of the herb sirup you knew Husk liked to spice his drinks with, or you tried to engage him in conversations about things you learned he was interested in. Now, your earnest efforts had seemed to finally been fruitful - instead of invading, you were finally invited to sit at his bar. 
In all the nervousness of not fucking this up, you drank too much, way too fast. You were a lightweight on good days, but now, after five not-so-kid-friendly drinks in the span of less than an hour, you were… unhinged. 
“I told ‘ya the last Gin Tonic was too much for her!”
Angel snorted with laughter, two hands holding you back from climbing over the bar to an aggravated Husk, arms outstretched and whining loudly. 
“Huuuuuuusk, come on, just oooone!”, you struggled against Angels grip on your waist, eager to reach the furry demon and put your arms around him, “I give the bestest, bestestest hugs ever, you cannot not smile, I promise!” 
Husk ducked with a mumbled curse, dodging your gripping hands when Angel temporarily lost grip on you because he laughed too hard at the chaotic mess that you were - normally his job, with Charlie as the babysitter - oh, how tables turned. 
“Fuckin-... how the hell was I supposed to know that she'd turn into a goddamn demonic care bear?!” Husk grunted, pulling the feathery end of his tail out of your hands - you had caught it with delighted giggles and glee, and pouted when it slipped out of your fingers. 
“Niffty! YO, NIFFTY!”, he bellowed, looking down to find her already at his side behind the bar. 
“Shit, you're fast. Oy, go and get Alastor, pronto, tell him his friggin’ girlfriend is…” Husk was pulled back by his neck, a sudden weight on his back making him swallow the end of his sentence. You had managed to escape Angels restrictive hands, and slung your arms around the cat demons neck, nuzzling your cheeks into the fur on his back. 
“Theeeere ya go! Feel the frown turn upside down!”, you sang, words muffled by his pelt, grip as strong as iron. Husk groaned, prying at your hands, but - to no avail and Angels absolute amusement - you tightened your hold on him the more he struggled. 
Niffty tilted her head, clearly not fazed by what was happening. Angel heaved, clutching his chest as he tried to calm down enough to speak. 
“Niff, just… pfff, stop that, leave his whiskers alone babe, holy shit, huh-huh, okay, okay… just run an’ tell Smiles to get his doll before she strangles Husky, okay?”
The little bug nodded eagerly and scurried away. 
Angel turned to Husk, still a highly bemused grin on his face. “‘Ya know, having the radio demons lover hanging around ‘ya neck might earn ‘ya some major street cred.”
“Oh, you fuck off if yo’ can’t help.”Husk growled, trying to ignore your figure, still clutched onto him like a living backpack. “Get off me kid, come on, dammit.”
“But you're not happy yet.”, you said innocently, refusing to let go. 
Angel gave Husk a meaningful look. “‘Ya know, she really does give great hugs, when she's sober and not batshit crazy drunk like this.”
“I don't need hugs, I need a fucking drink is what I need.”
“Huuuuusk…”, you whined again, quieter now, sadder. “Why do you hate me?”
Husk stood still, exchanging a look with Angel, who seemed pitiful now. He nudged his head to the two of you as a silent command: Say something nice. Husk sighed, patting your arm around his neck awkwardly. 
“I don't hate yo’, kid.” 
“Yeah you do… I just want to be friends, see your happy face, smiling… but you hate me…”
Angel narrowed his eyes at him, mouthing ‘Do better’, and he huffed. 
“Jesus fuckin…, listen, I don’t like yo’ choices of men, but ...you're alright. Way better than yo’ bitch ass of a boyfriend at least.”
Angel opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of Alastor's signature jazz background music approached and he quickly decided to just sit back, out of the immediate danger zone but near enough to have a first class seat to whatever would happen now. 
Alastor walked up with an amused smile and curious expression. 
“Evening, my fellow friends. Niffty came to me with a cryptic message, about my darling doe strangling our beloved bartender?”
Husk scoffed, turning around so the radio demon could see you hanging on him like a koala on a tree trunk, pointing at you. “This yours?”
Alastor laughed, his face lighting up in a softness Husk had seldom seen before. 
“Indeed, it seems to be.” He chuckled, stepping up to you. “Darling?”
You rose your head at the sound of his voice, smiling happily when you recognized him. 
“Al!” He caught you with ease when you jumped from Husk’s back straight into his arms, patting your back as you locked your arms around his waist. “My, those two did their diligent work, you are quite inebriated.”
You giggled into his coat. “Yup, I am hammered like a rusty nail!” You lifted your head, beaming up with tired eyes at his bemused grin. “And Al, guess what! Husk said I'm not an ass like you, so he doesn't hate me anymore! I’m alright!”
Husk, who rubbed his sore neck, froze at your words, quickly shooting the radio demon a glance. Static crackled and for a second, he shivered from the licks of electricity running over his spine, making his fur stand up. But nothing further happened. Alastor just smiled at you, ignoring the cat demon completely, and ruffled your hair. “How good for you love, you did it afterall! But it’s late now, why don’t you stay here tonight?” “That’d be nice…”, you sighed, sleepy and exhausted.
You let his waist go, only to wrap your arms around his neck as he scooped you up to carry you. Angel and Husk gawked at the scene before them, questioning reality as Alastor, of all people, pressed his lips to the crown of your head, which made you humm and turned to leave, leaving the bar without so much as a cheerful "Good night, chums.".
Angel leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands in his hands, watching the pair disappear in the dark with an amazed expression. "Man, she really takes his villain-y edge off, doesn't she? Kinda scary how she gets Smiles to almost behave human." Husk poured himself another drink. "Scary doesn't even cut it." He took a huge swig, but he still had to grin.
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livwritesstuff · 4 months
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Something Eddie had learned during his and Steve’s past few years living in mid-western Massachusetts was that nobody parties harder than middle-aged suburbanites with their young children in the next room.
Sure, it’s a different kind of partying than what Eddie had participated in when he was younger, but still just as impressive, or so he's thinking as he stands in the crowded kitchen of a ridiculous McMansion decorated to the holiday nines, fancy IPA in hand (in a matte can and everything), four days before Christmas.
He's mingling.
Well, he’s kind of mingling. He’s had one eye on Steve, who is on the other side of the kitchen, pretty much the entire time, because Hazel, their youngest daughter, is sacked out and Steve is holding her in one arm as if she’s a newborn still and not a couple months past her first birthday like she really is (it’s providing Eddie with yet another reason he needs that kid to stop growing up, already, because he’ll never get tired of watching that man hold a baby).
Moe and Robbie are…honestly, Eddie doesn’t really know what all the kids get up to at these things. They are loud – and with an unending consistency that makes any silence deafening (and a telltale sign that some type of shit went down that they should probably check in on) – and occasionally one or two of them will barrel through the kitchen on some imaginary mission.
Eddie isn’t really even drinking. Steve is certainly doing enough for the both of them, and his way of getting himself into trouble with the other parents once he’s got a couple beers in him is entertaining enough for Eddie to not need alcohol to get through the night.
“Dude, fuckin’ Dan is making drinks,” Steve tells him early in the evening, “If he offers you a dirty Girl Scout, say no. He’s a father.”
“What the fuck is in that?”
“Vodka, creme de menthe, and chocolate whiskey.”
“Shit, that…actually sounds kind of good.”
“I know, but we’re declining in protest.”
Some time after that, Eddie ends up with Hazel. She’s awake and curiously mouthing at a peppermint cookie when Steve makes his way back to him.
“Lisa is mad at me I think,” he says as he sidles up behind Eddie, pressing himself against his back and wrapping an arm around his waist.
“Watch it, handsy,” Eddie warns him, “There’s children present. What did you do to Lisa?”
“All I said was that maybe the start of a recession isn’t the best time to buy a timeshare and suddenly I have a tone.”
“Well, what did you expect?”
Not even twenty five minutes later, Steve returns.
“Evan’s parents probably aren’t gonna invite us to their New Year’s party,” Steve tells him, with the tiniest slur to his voice that might have worried Eddie if he wasn’t also holding a very large bottle of water.
“Why?”
“I dunno, man. All I said was that the fourth Christmas tree might be compensating for something and it was like I said the Armageddon was coming.”
“Alright, I think it’s time for us to head out.”
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pryllee · 2 months
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7 minutes in heaven, or 7 hours.
Blade x AFAB! Reader
Dubcon, stomach bulge, kinda degradation/praise kink, slight mean blade with a sprinkle of softheartedness, cunnilungus/fingering, riding, jealous reader, kinda jealous blade ”ugly body” rejections whatever mentioned in start, hickeys/marking, tit sucking, bit of possessiveness in both so the feeling can be mutual, small breeding kink mention
A/N: I get pretty awkward and cringey while trying to write fuck parts so I hope anyone who reads this finds this good. And maybe I'll make HCs with him taking care of a child next time... If anyone wants that. 🥲
As depressed you already were, it already sucked even more with each rejection that slapped you at the face. You slammed the can of alcohol onto the table as Blade just watched leaning his head onto the wall.
"Ugh these fuckin' asses..." You held onto your head annoyed as hell,
"You know, we should be heading back now." He scanned you, before looking away again to try avoid your ’fiery fists’
You complained, slamming a fist onto the table almost making it break. "Oh c'mon don't make it worse than it already is! These idiots have the nerve to call my body unattractive, they might've just had atleast one more kiss before they died, no? Not like they were any better..." Silently whispering the last part.
Your brows furrowed noticing him staring off into the distance, probably at someone. You tried to find the direction he was looking in, and found a pretty girl almost your height, but her curves really showed through that waitress uniform.
A small ’oh’ of disappointment almost escaped your lips, making your eye twitch. "Maybe your right. Lets go." You grabbed the can with half of alcohol left.
Your walking almost felt like you were stomping leaving Blade barely confused, more like unfazed as he found this normal.
You noticed the place felt a little lonely, you didn't hear much till you advanced inside further and noticed some of the stellaron hunters and probably new recruits due to some unfamiliar faces along with Kafka on the side and Silverwolf. "Hi, [ Y/N ]. Nice to see you've brought Blade along with you." Kafka smiled as Silverwolf blew gum up, tapping away on her gaming console.
"Whats going on? They playin' spin the bottle?" You pointed drunkly with drool almost oozing out of your mouth. "Hmm...—seven minutes in heaven or whatever." She waved her hand as her back leaned against a pillar.
What is with these people leaning against shit? Just how disinterested really are they?
"Lemme participate." You spoke as you squeezed in a spot in the circle pushing some people aside joining the weird circle formation that felt like a cult. "What about you, Bladie? Won't you join her too?"
"Not interested. I don't really care about those type of feelings." He was about to walk away in the way both of you came, till Kafka offered him something.
"Hmm, I'm sure Silverwolf can secure you some time with her?" Pointing at her as he noticed a little wheel thing that controlled the bottle. "Unless you want her to give herself up to someone else, that is."
He clenched a fist tightly, loosening it quickly as he just also squeezed in a spot opposite of where you are.
He watched the previous can you held be thrown away assuming you already finished it or didn't and just hated the taste now. As the bottle kept spinning for some time, you wondered when it would land on you and choose a decent looking dude. Till it finally did. But then landed on Blade.
Your expression of happiness quickly went away realizing who else it landed on, would he even want to do spicy with you? If anything he'd probably rather do it with that stupid girl he stared at earlier. Maybe I should kill her. Whoops, thoughts got a little offtrack there.
The person on your right was nudging your shoulder to follow Blade in, as you quickly took a glance at Kafka feeling like something was up. And you were right cause something really was up. You followed him in, as he locked the door behind you both.
"So what do we do? Play cards? Or should we find that girls number?" You scoffed in annoyance wondering how the fuck you both even got paired up. Not like he'd find you anything more than friends.
-
You once planned to confess to him but as you were looking for him, you overheard some parts of a ’private’ conversation.
"Bladie, what do you prefer in a girl?" Kafka smiled, asking him. He just looked away as he looked in your direction, it felt like he saw you, but then it felt like he didn't as it really was just an open corridor thing.
"I don't know. I don't care about such things... But probably someone good with a sword and is stronger than me." He mumbled the last part, seemingly unsure of his words infront of Kafka as she'd probably do some weird shit.
"Oh? I thought you liked girls like [ Y/N ]?" She pried. "No... We're just co-workers, shes too bold for me too." He sighed, speaking in a low tone.
Just co-workers? Ha, is he fucking insane? Not even friends... But literal co-workers? You walked away holding onto your broken heart with tears bubbling up a little but you just wiped them away deciding to push your feelings away.
"Hmm... Poor [ Y/N ], seems pretty upset that she thought she was already rejected without the chance to even ask directly..." Kafka whispered in a low tone, glancing in the same direction he looked in previously.
"...Excuse me?" He asked, yet only got a headshake and ’nothing.’ in response. Did ’Elio’ also foresee this? How come Blade wouldn't get to know though? Well I guess he wouldn't need to since it's not related to the Astral Express or Stelle.
"Girls number? Who exactly are you talking about?" He asked, making the atmosphere even more awkward. "Oh please, don't act like I didn't see how you stared down that girl with ’beautiful’ curves in that stupid bar." You scoffed, crossing your arms.
"Is this seven minutes in heaven, or seven minutes in hell listening to you complain? And I didn't stare her down. I was just looking at her because ’curves’ were related in the stupid topic. You're the one who just stomped away like a furious little kid." His words hit you hard into the face, "And we aren't dating, I don't see how you're so pissed off about it."
You were practically seething in anger as you just turned around to go through the rooms backdoor to go outside. "And where are you going?" You felt him grip onto your waist, which sent shivers up your spine. "None of your business." You tried to push his hands off yet his grip only tightened even more.
"Blade..– Let go." Your breathing slowly became more and more hitched as the gap between you closed. Suddenly the lights went out and you heard Kafka announce something that made everyone walk away.
"Have fun, you two." Kafka whispered to herself, although she knew you couldn't hear.
"Hm? What happened, Kafka?" Silverwolf confusingly followed her from behind.
His chest pressed against your back, feeling his breathe becoming heavier as his hand slid down to your inner thigh, making you try to squirm out of his grasp almost instantly. "Blade stop—nnh.."
A soft low moan was made out as he caressed your clothed sex, you held onto the door infront of you, "Do you want me, [ Y/N ]?" He whispered into your ear. As short silence filled the room, he spun you around, lifting you up with his arms with your back pressing against the now locked door. "Answer me, you whore."
His eyes bored into yours. Your eyes darted everywhere trying to find a way to escape or somewhere decent to look at. "Whats with the act? How come you're so shy now?" He teased, chuckling, leaning into your lips. His tongue mixing with yours as you held onto him for Aeons sake, digging your nails into his back.
He pulled away with a string of saliva connecting from both of your lips, before leaning back down biting down on your tops button spitting each one out. "Do you really need to destroy my top? I could've just undo it by myself."
This felt like a dream come true, yet you also wished you would just wake up from it, it feels so wrong yet so right.
"Hmm... Can't have a pretty girl like you falling onto the ground now can we?" He held you with one arm now, with the other needily pushing the remains of your dignity away to reveal your chest. Yet another obstacle arised due to your bra. "Shouldn't we...—stop here? I'm sure it's already been seven minutes.." He shook his head, just pushing your bra down.
"Mmh, how cute, you're the one who wanted this for so long yet you're the one who also wants this to stop already." He bit down on your nipple, suckling on it like he tried to milk you,
"Maybe I should breed you with kids so I can suck alot of milk out of you, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?" You moaned softly from time to time, covering your mouth with one hand as the other travelled up his hair,
"Mmngh... I— maybe...nnnh" you whimpered. His mouth was suckling one with one hand cupping the other and flicking at your now hard nipples leaving hickeys. You sobbed out his name softly, "I assume thats a yes? Can't believe how turned on you are when I'm only playing with your tits."
The previous hand that was cupping your boob slid down your pants, pushing it down along with your panty,
"Be a dear and say my name, maybe I'll help with that wetness down there then." His gloved finger ran down your slit, making you shudder,
"blade..." You mumbled
"Can't hear ya."
"Ugh... blade," You looked away embarrassed, your nails again digging into his back.
"Hmm?"
"Oh for Aeons sake, Blade please just fuck me!" You cried out in annoyance, the embarrassment was more than enough.
"Good girl." He lifted you over to a table, laying you on it with you facing him, "Wasn't so hard now was it?" He took his gloves off, pulling your pants off exposing your legs and cunt.
The tension got heavier with the bare cold hitting against your chest and lower half. He aligned two fingers with your hole, slowly pushing it in. "Be gentle—please..." You looked away,
"Mhm... And why should I?" He cooed "Could this be your first time?" You slightly nodded, as he just looked back at your hole, pushing his fingers in deeper forcing a moan out of you; "Ughh..—Blade! Nnh!" You cried, arching your back miserably, it hurt like a bitch yet slowly felt good.
He can't believe he almost gave your virginity up to someone else other than him, the fact you could've been moaning out someone elses name really is annoying.
His fingers thrusted in and out at a painfully slow pace, your walls tightened vigorously and it was so easy for him to access with how wet and slick your pussy already was for him. The pace got faster, with his fingers slightly becoming curled with each passing thrust adding another finger in.
"Fuck! Blade—nngh.. shit..." You cussed out clawing at the table feeling a knot in your tummy loosening, you came all over his fingers making a mess on the table. "Look at what a fucking mess you made, what a slut getting off with my fingers alone." He shoved his fingers down your mouth, onto your tongue,
"Lick it." You moaned softly to try and tease him, along with some sucking. "Ha, maybe I shouldn't have let you cum that easily." He flicked your clit making you yelp a little loudly.
The bulge in his pants was starting to become unbearable, but atleast it's time to actually have some intercourse. He undid his belt, slipping his pants off pulling you closer to him, sitting infront.
You became a tad bolder, holding onto his thigh and with the other hand you held onto his arm. "Sit still, pretty girl." he reprimanded,
He finally slipped his boxers down grabbing onto your ass lifting you up pressing your now dry saliva-ridden tits against his chest slightly with him holding his length, "Uhhm... Are you sure it's going inside of me?" You stared nervously at his length "Yes, and I'll make it fit if you're so worried about that." He spat on his hands, rubbing around it.
"Don't girls usually do that by sucking it?" You ask perplexed, "Mmh... They do, but I'm sure the both of us can't wait to start this fuckfest."
He chuckled again lowly, burrowing his head into the crook of your collarbone kissing it leaving a hickey as he blindly shoved it inside of your hole making your back arch, and tremble. His mouth travelled down again to your nipple, suckling on it and drawing circles around it with his tongue. He stuck his hand in place on your stomach feeling the bulge disappear and appear each thrust he does.
"Fuck—" low moans rolled off your tongue, "... Feels so good, Blade.." He sloppily thrusted inside, trying to find your g-spot, finally noticing you tighten arching your backing vigorously at one of the thrusts, thrusting again making you moan loudly.
"Shh. Do you want someone to hear us?" He shoved a finger in your mouth, spitting onto your tongue making you swallow it. "Such a whore, swallowing my spit so easily." He leaned in for another kiss, mixing saliva together once again sloppily thrusting rolling his tongue around with yours.
His thrusts got faster 'n deeper yet somehow still managed to hit your G-spot everytime, you threw your legs around him, and arms around his neck smashing your lips against him. "Fuck—I'm so close [ Y/N ]... He mumbled lowly with one of his hands travelling down to rub your clit furiously.
You creamed around his cock, liquids dripping down your thighs and his shaft furiously feeling yourself coming closer to your climax. You burrowed your head into his neck, messing his collar up and leaving small hickeys as you bit at him.
"Really what a whore, I can't believe you could've been like this with someone else." His words made you scoff slightly, "Neither can I." Grunts could be heard under his breathe and your moans getting louder and bolder till both of you came at the same time, white liquid filled your womb yet you still felt his length barely softening,
You tightened around him hard you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, "Mmh.. Not done yet." He whispered, blowing into your ear having reality settle into your very veins.
"Don't tell me you still have stamina..." You said in a tired tone. "I do, infact I still do have enough till morning." He laughed leaving another hickey on your collarbone, biting on it feeling proud of all the markings hes made on you.
Light shined through the blinds, quite literally almost blinding you till you realized you have no idea where the fuck you are. You were in some weird house, in someones bed. You got up and noticed you were naked, hurriedly finding clothes to wear.
Till you noticed the closet was full of mens wear, yet you just grabbed whatever looked comfortable and strided out of that room... Which was probably Blades room. You noticed a mirror right when you stepped out, and saw hickeys everywhere on your collarbone and neck. "So it really wasn't a dream..."
"What wasn't a dream?" You saw him appear from the side holding a cup of coffee in different clothes for the first time. "Also you're wearing my clothes. They seem too big for you." He remarked, "Well obviously, I have no idea where the hell you threw my clothes off too and the tops buttons were torn off by you."
"Calm down you two, we don't wanna stir up trouble in this house, otherwise we'll be found out and chased out. Also stop with the love quarreling." Silverwolf sighed also in different clothes. "Okay why is everyone in different clothes for the first time? Am I going insane?" You rubbed your eyes.
"Now we may wear the same outfit for a long time but we definitely wear something else at night to sleep comfortably, thank you." She replied in an ’isn't it obvious?’ tone. Blade just leaned on the wall sipping the cup of coffee.
Silverwolf then seemed to remember something, hurriedly tip toeing over to you, "How was it?" She whispered in your ear. "What? How was what? I don't know what you're talking about." You flushed red running away to find the bathroom.
"The bathrooms the other way." He yelled loudly in an unfazed tone. "I KNEW THAT!!!" You screamed dashing the other way.
"Oh dear Blade... What exactly did you do to her?" "Nothing. Don't go thinking weird stuff about me now." He took another sip of his coffee before following in your tracks to also go to the ’bathroom.’
——
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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 3 months
Text
Good Cop, Bad Cop feat. John Wick
Basically Soft!JW and Mean!JW brain rot - can’t get this shit outta my head or my drafts. Do not read this. I had to take a damn shower after I wrote it. NSFW / Eplicit Content / hitting & name-calling & dubcon
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Of course, he’s soft John, who holds opens doors, pulls out chairs, gives away his coat
Little kisses all over your face til’ his jaw is sore just to make you breathless and giggly
Sickeningly sweet and charming, magnetizing in his kindness 
Master of tickle fights 
Deep laughter that rumbles through his entire body
Languid, big tongue never in a hurry
Of course, he takes mental note of your erogenous zones and sensitive spots
Makes sure you come first 
John Wick sucks toes. If you’re ticklish, oh well, he’s putting your foot in his mouth and holding you down or tying you up. Also gives fantastic foot massages with hands and tongue. 
Patient, frustrated John, big plump tip leaking and twitching, giving your fluttering cunt time to stretch and settle around it
Holding your hips down into the mattress and suckling your bloated pussy until the blue light of dawn - until he drinks you dry - don’t worry, though, he’s got the bottle of unscented, water based lube right there and plenty of saliva to keep you slippery - “we don’t want you to chafe, baby,” he coos, worrying a sloppy kiss to your overworked clit
He’s self-aware enough to recognize that his smooth voice is an effective weapon, especially when he’s talking you through taking his cock. Man of few words doesn’t mean he can’t use them the exact right way
“That’s my girl.” “Yeah, that feel good?” “Right there?” “Look at you.” “Gorgeous,” thrust, “irresistible,” thrust, “so fuckin’ sexy.”
Don’t get me started on the Russian dirty talk. Do you know what he’s saying? Absolutely not. Is it still more effective than English? Absolutely yes.
But, realistically, there’s also bully John, who always gets what he wants one way or another
Doesn’t matter how tough you think you are, this man is made of tall, corded muscle. 
Huge, mean, committed and determined, stalking toward you and letting you know, without words, that you’re fucked
Doesn’t matter how soft he tries to be, there’s still that rough undertone that always gets the best of him
You know he’s such a sweetie, but he gets so jealous sometimes. It’s to the point where he doesn’t let you touch yourself or use vibrators unless he’s controlling the scene
The charade of your innocence is over when, one night, you’re drunk, straddling his lap and kissing his collar and you can tell he’s trying not to fuck you stupid
“John,” you say, “you know I’m a big girl. You can do what you want.”
“It’s gonna hurt,” he replies, smoothing over your flushed cheekbone
“Good,” you tell him, “hurt me.”
You’ll live to regret it
He feels a little guilty that that’s all the more coaxing he needs to keep you stuffed full of his dick and crying from overstimulation as often as he can
“We’re lucky you’re on birth control,” he grits out, the wet slap of his balls against your ass as he destroys your cervix 
More filthy, awful shit from his mouth as he manhandles you into a position where he can bite your flesh and whisper in your ear and bottom out in the sanctuary of your cunt
“Cockdrunk slut, huh?” - “It would be easier if this stubborn pussy would ever loosen up a little bit. Shame.” 
He keeps you fat and red and sore and full of cum, always 
You stopped begging him for reprieve - eventually
Heavy handed John, bruising your ass a little too much, hitting you hard enough to make your teeth knock together. 
One day, he’s gonna keep you locked up in a big house, collar around your neck, always wearing too-tight clothes and overly feminine fetish outfits that would make a stripper blush 
Run, hide, fight 
There’s no getting away from the Boogeyman
Plus, he likes the chase
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norman-fucking-reedus · 2 months
Note
Not really a sexual request but… thoughts on Daryl coming home upset? Like genuinely hurting over something or anxious about something. Personally I think Daryl would have some level of anxiety that every now and then can get bad so maybe something happens with that? Idk I just love your writing and wanna see your take on sad Daryl🫶🏻
UGHH I’ve been CRAVING some sad Daryl for a while I have this idea of Daryl having a mental break where he isolates himself from everyone because he has no clue how to properly communicate his feelings so instead he decides to stay in his own space and silently drown to death alone in his own thoughts.
Normalize holding adult men like babies because obviously thats what they are
I feel like lately my writing has been kinda bad?? 🧍🏾‍♀️Maybe this is just too short idk but something is OFF.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
It had been two weeks since Daryl locked himself and your heart in the basement.
He needed some space, that much was obvious, but the worrying started the first week when Daryl didn’t touch the plates of food you or Carol would leave outside the door. He never left the room, never made a sound either. If it weren’t for the years of a living in an apocalypse, you would’ve thought he was dead.
Daryl felt dead, his bone weighing heavy with emotion and anger he just didn’t know how to get out. Years of bottling up everything now seeped through his grimy skin, mind running two miles a minute as his hands fisted his greasy matting hair.
He almost felt like a teenager again, rotting away feeling sorry for himself in bed while internal screaming at himself because lord knows he couldn’t do it vocally. He pushed everyone away, he needed to. Nobody needed to see him like this. Nobody needed to deal with him like this. Nobody needed to help him like this.
Daryl knew you and Carol left food outside his door, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to eat. Didn’t deserve to drink. He didn’t wanna open the door one day and see one of you standing there with a pitiful look on your face. He didn’t need pity.
He also didn’t need the jarring sound of pounding at said door. “Go ‘way” He mumbled, but instead the door creaked open, softly shutting. Maybe he should learn how to use a lock.
“Daryl” You voice was soft against his burning ears, however he felt a twinge of anger surge through him. “Get out. Don’t need anythin” He pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed and only glancing over at where you stood with your arms tightly folded. “It’s been weeks”
He knows. “So? Gonna be another weeks too, now leave” You stood firmly in place, not budging.
Daryl screamed at himself for trying to throw you out, you of all people. Only his internal monologue didn’t match the one coming out his mouth. “Dammit woman I told ya ta leave!”
You stared at him silently, taking a few steps towards him and not faltering when he stood up, merely inches from your face. “Don’ need ya in here feelin’ fuckin’ sorry makin’ me feel worse”
“Well if it makes you feel any shitter I feel sorry for you inside and outside the door” You shrugged up at him, looking at him with a more causal expression than anything. “Why are you pushing me away Dixon?” Daryl bared his teeth at the question, angry at himself cause he didn’t know why. “Why’re ya in here?”
“That’s not answering my question” You scoffed, and Daryl turned to frustrated kick the night stand. “I don’ hafta answer tha’ stupid fuckin’ question! Why can’ ya jus’ leave me tha’ fuck alone?” He began pacing around the room, trying to put distance between the two of you continued to stubbornly close it. “Because I give a shit? You don’t get to suffer in here alone because think you deseve it”
You shoved Daryl’s chest, and surprisingly he shoved back, tears burning hot in his eyes. “Why not?!”
Your face softened and you grabbed Daryl’s hands, holding them tightly in yours. “Fucking stop!” He tried pulling himself out your grip, shaking his head as more traitorous tears spilled. Daryl grunted as you pulled his arms towards you, causing him to stumble which gave you the opening to finally capture him in a tight hug. “Get offa me” He mumbled even as his body desperately melted against yours. “It’s okay sweetheart” You whispered the words and walked backwards, lying on the bed when the back of your knees hit the mattress.
“Ya shouldn’t- Ya shouldn’t see me like this” Daryl buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling an unfamiliar lump form in his throat. He no longer felt anger, but saddness. He was sad, so sad that he didn’t know what do to other then straying away. His chest hurt, and he felt so vulnerable in your arms that he just exploded, body shaking as sobs racked through him. “I’m here now babyboy, it’s okay” You, quite literally, tangled your fingers into his hair, soothingly scratching the scalp as Daryl’s tears ran down your skin and soaked your shirt.
It hurt so bad yet felt so good to finally, finally let it all out.
You moved to sit up against the wall, bringing Daryl along with you and positioning him to lay across against your shoulder, brushing hair out his red as he sniffled. You wiped his tears with your hand, staring down lovingly at him as you stroked his cheek. “Tell me what's hurting you” You whispered, listening to his soft whimpers and snotty sniffles. Daryl leaned his head against you, eyes flickering up to meet yours as he searched your face. He felt so grateful to have someone like you, caring about someone like him.
“Jus’ everythin” He whispered back.
You kissed his forehead, letting your lips linger there. “Anything in particular?”
Daryl shook his head, soaking up every ounce of attention you gave him. Each tear was wiped away by soft fingers, followed by a gentle kiss.
For the first time, Daryl felt like a little kid, huddled up sweetly in your arms as you ran your hands across his back, slowly rocking his frail frame.
He cried harder than he ever has, muffling sobs into to the fabric of your shirt. You only stroked his hair and told him that it was all okay.
And he believed you.
Daryl could physically feel the love radiating off you, seeping through his clothes and filing his weakened body.
It was so peaceful in the room beside from Daryl’s sniffing, he felt like you were the only people left on earth. As he glanced up at you through clumped lashes, he wished that you were.
“M’sorry” He mumbled.
You quirked a bow. “For what?”
“Fer pushin’ you”
“Away or earlier?” Daryl shook his head slightly.
“Both” He responded.
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Ugh. I guess I forgive you”
Daryl cracked a small smile, one of his fidgety hands reaching for yours. His fingers were cold compared to yours.
“I love you” You whispered, squeezing his hand in yours.
He searched your face, eyes glassy as they once again filled up with tears. “I- I love ya too”
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★
© norman-fucking-reedus 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, or adpated to any other platform. You may translate my works with my asked and given consent.
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chososbabymama · 9 months
Text
(plug!suguru x fem!black reader)
plug!geto pt 1
head empty no thoughts, only plug suguru😩
[CW// swearing, implied NSFW, drug usage (jus weed yall i promise suguru not poppin percs or nothin), alcohol, mei mei (yes im makin a cw for her weird ass!!)]
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sugu..。oO (☆): u got me fucked up y/n, im omw.
[IMAGE ATTACHED]
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shit… you stared at your phone, eyes widening in shock. you gather yourself quickly before rolling your eyes and tossing your phone to the side.
“ion even see why he’s coming over…. seems to be happy as hell with that other bitch he got” you grumble.
you see, growing up you and geto were next door neighbors. your parents thought it’d be a good idea for you to hang out together given that you would be attending the same school. through geto you were able to meet gojo, sukuna, choso, toji and nanami. you all became a close group fairly quickly, they essentially became your big brothers and did their best to keep you from harms way while also making sure they weren’t smothering you.
but your relationship with suguru was always… different. sure he had been just as protective as the rest, but he would always go above and beyond for you. girls were bullying you? he glued their shoes to their lockers and put stink bombs in their desks. some guy cheated on you? suguru sent videos of the guy smoking to his college recruiter and got his full ride scholarship revoked. you were being harassed in public? geto broke someones wrist after they tried to grab you. you were sad and lonely on valentines day? he showed up with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a bag of your favorite things, and a big ass bottle of pink whitney.
so when you guys were 16 and geto told you he was gonna start dealing, you knew things were only gonna go up from there. he had been the one who got you into smoking, from your first pipe all the way to teaching you how to roll your own blunts. geto was smart, good with money, and had that disgustingly endearing boyish charm about him. naturally customers ate it up, and he thrived in your town for being the local plug. he continued his practice all the way until you guys went to college, him and sukuna even worked together sometimes at bigger parties and events. but the one thing geto had ALWAYS made clear, was that HE was gonna take care of you. 7 months after he first started he showed up to your house with a full zip, lighter, grinder, colorful pre-roll papers, and a pretty rolling tray to match (most of this stuff you still have and use to this day). needless to say you were shocked, you can still remember the way he sat you down on top of him as he explained how the grinder worked and how tightly you wanted to pack the cone.
“don't worry pretty girl, imma take care of you. wont have to spend a single cent on flower s’long as i'm around yea?” he buried his face in your neck and maybe it was the joint talking but you could’ve SWORE you had felt his lips on your neck and the grip on your hips tighten.
ever since that day, suguru has kept his word. you had consistently gone to him when you needed smoke and you never paid for it. just tell him how much you need and within the hour its in your hands. its caused quite the issues with his hookups, they couldn’t understand why YOU never had to pay but they did. you didn't fully understand why yourself, but each and every time he’d just shrug and give them the same answer,
“she’s just special.”
he’d never let you forget that to him? you always came first.
you loved all those boys with all your heart, but suguru managed to carve a special place all to himself, and you couldn’t say you were upset about it. which is why you were so fuckin pissed off about how these past few weeks have been. despite your growing feelings for suguru, you foolishly assumed that losing his friendship wasn't worth it. so you kept your feelings hidden for 6 years as you watched him fool around left and right. you of course had your own share of hookups, but you knew that no matter what you'd still end up in your shower crying out for him as you reached your peak.
these past few months with him, have been…. interesting. for some reason your interactions with him had become much more flirtatious. whenever you sat together his arm would be wrapped around your shoulder, he’d kiss you on the cheek anytime he left the room (gojo sometimes demanded one of his own and like the good friend he is, suguru would comply), and the nicknames?
‘hey sweetness you need anything?’
‘you know you’re my number one, right pretty girl?’
‘c’mon mama you know i miss you’
it was all honestly driving you insane, the back and forth with him. the constant battle you have with yourself about his intentions. its all just…. a lot. you were just getting used to the new aspect of your dynamic when all hell broke loose. it seems like one of sugurus past hookups was upset that he wasn't paying attention to them or any of his other past flings for that matter, not when he wanted you. so, they decided to…. fix that.
imagine your surprise when you get a text from hakari in the middle of your class,
karis bitch ass: “thought geto was fw u ???’
[3 IMAGES ATTACHED]
your eyes widened almost comically as you stared at the screen. kinji had sent you screenshots of mei mei's instagram story….. with suguru. the first was a shirtless picture with him facing away from the camera (sweats hanging dangerously on his waist).
you had to blink a couple times to make sure you were REALLY seeing this shit.
the next one was a video of him at a party pouring a bottle of crown royal into mei's mouth. you were floored, each second you spent watching it, felt as though your skin was getting hotter. but the TRUE icing on the cake was the last one. the last one that led to you avoiding and ignoring suguru for 3 weeks.
the last picture was of him driving. geto looked fine as fuck when he drove. he knew that, you knew that, everybody knows that suguru geto behind the wheel was a wet dream come true. the ‘i miss u sugu~’ glaring at you from the bottom of the photo. but what really made your eye twitch, was the fact that mei mei was in the passenger seat. YOUR fucking seat. designated to you by the owner himself. at this point you didn’t know whose ass to beat first and you honestly didn’t give a shit. it really was gonna depend on who crossed your line of sight first. you gathered yourself enough to get through the rest of your lecture before bolting out of the hall. you quickly shoot hakari back a text,
‘good thing u don get paid 4 thinkin🤨’
you locked your phone before heading to the campus bus stop. today has absolutely drained you, usually geto would pick you up and take you back to your apartment but you honestly didn’t feel like seeing him. as you trudge your way to the exit you feel your phone vibrate once more.
sugu..。oO (☆): wya mama im outside waitin for u ?
you rolled your eyes at the message and sat at the bench as you watched the bus pull up. ‘he wants to give somebody a ride so bad maybe he should go find that fuckin bitch’ you thought bitterly. you knew you weren’t being fair, shoko was a really good friend to you- she always has been! now her classmate on the other hand…. lets just say there’s a reason you two don’t attend the same functions. but geto was close to her family so there were definitely moments him and mei mei could have snuck off together….. fuck. suguru wasn’t your boyfriend. you weren’t his girlfriend. but you at least thought maybe he’d…..
you shake your head and get on the bus. as you turn on your headphones you see that suguru sent you some more texts.
sugu..。oO (☆): y/n ???
sugu..。oO (☆): wats goin on baby y u not talkin to me ?
sugu..。oO (☆): did i do sumn wrong ? wtvr it is im sorry dove :(
sugu..。oO (☆): cmon y/n seriously, wtf is goin on im fr gettin worried abt u.
each text filled your body with a disgusting amount of rage. the sense of betrayal you felt from his actions was more than you could handle.
y/n🕸️: takin the bus from now on.
sugu..。oO (☆): y/n what the fuck are you talkin about.
you didn't bother replying. you just put your headphones on and watched the bus travel your familiar route home. your phone continuously buzzed, no doubt suguru but you didn’t have the energy to engage with anyone right now. you just wanted to go home and smoke…… smoke the weed geto gave you….. well you can't have it all.
from then on you avoided your best friend like he was the fuckin plague. at first you thought you were being discreet with it... until people started blowin up your phone. see, suguru didn't exactly hide the fact that he took care of you; that he'd always be by your side. so for people to see one without the other was a surprising development. and suguru wasn't taking it well AT ALL.
( karis bitch ass: y/n ion kno wut geto did but pls take him back he wont stop bitchin!!!!
suguru went to a party thinking you'd be there: suprise! you weren't because you'd heard he was going so you stayed home. apparently he spent the whole time whining your name with his favorite peach crown royal in his arms on the sofa. it would have been cute if you weren't so mad at him.
ino sent you a video of suguru LITERALLY pushing a girl away on some, "get away you're not y/n" with that stupidly cute pout on his face.
even yuki was surprised about you icing geto out. sending you voice memos about the shit geto does while they're out. "no y/n the best part was when he tried to give the girl the bag she tried to ask for his number he fuckin mushed her and said 'sorry im married, her name is y/n and she can fight' ooouuu she was pissed!")
it was really hard being mad at suguru...
over the past three weeks you had been a bit lonely without him. sure you had the weed and a plethora of clothes he left at your place to keep you company, but you missed HIM. the way he'd stick his cold feet on you, how he always cheats at go fish, how he'll come over and play your PS5 while you sit in the back and cheer him on, the way he looks at you. you miss suguru so fuckin much.
but you also feel betrayed.
geto KNOWS that you and mei mei don't like each other, him being the one to hold you back from her on several occasions. you know they had a thing in the past but.... why would suguru be so fucking SWEET to you if he was just gonna go crawling back to her... it didn't make any fuckin sense to you. and unfortunately, you held a grudge. one that went so far as to even go to someone else for weed. in the entire time you've known suguru, you ALWAYS got your stuff from him. no matter what was going on between you two. but this time? this time you felt really hurt, so you turned to your backup plug; sukuna.
thing is, you've never actually bought from sukuna before. he knew about your weird thing with geto and he showed support his own way from the outside. you had never failed to notice that every picture or video someone sent you of suguru, sukuna was always nearby.
(what you didn't know was that sukuna was the one who had to listen to the long-haired males woes. sukuna was honestly getting sick and tired of it...)
but imagine the pinkette's surprise when he gets a text from you that friday night asking to pick up!
y/n☽˚。⋆: hi 'kuna ! can i get a zip pretty pls ? id ask geto but i dont wanna bother him when hes busy haha
aside from the man in question being attached to his hip (that is no exaggeration sukuna is literally sitting on the couch with his best friends arms wrapped around his waist listening to him come up with reason 34248 'why y/n is so fuckin mad'). sukuna's tattooed hands had quickly taken a screenshot of your message to send to the man in his lap. he quickly grabbed a chunk of his friends inky locks with his free hand and shook.
"hey, idiot. check your fuckin phone i think you'll wanna see this"
suguru lifted his head and gazed at his roommate with bleary bloodshot eyes, the blunt from a few hours ago had settled nicely in his skin (made it easier to wrack his brain and figure out what the fuck he did wrong). he rolled his eyes and flopped back down into the couch with a deep and heavy sigh.
"man what's the fuckin point. y/n is mad at me and wont tell me why so if she's not on my shit then what's the point of even havin a fuckin phone y'know?"
sukuna rolled his eyes and snorted,
"yeah i guess that's why she just texted me askin' for a zip, huh?"
"she fuckin what?" suguru shot up quick and grabbed his phone. his brows furrowed and he began to mutter to himself angrily. sukuna watched as suguru's frown got deeper with each second he looked at the screen. finally, he swore loudly before grabbing his jacket and his keys. "man i gotta go 'cuz now she's playin with me and im not about to let that happen." sukuna watched as geto threw on his hoodie and sneakers and ran out of their apartment.
as the plug ran down the steps he took out his phone to let you know he was on his way to you.
[IMAGE ATTACHED]
my cinnamon apple <3: u got me fucked up y/n, im omw.
which lead you to your current issue, trying to figure out what the fuck you're gonna do. you had planned to be mad at geto for at least a couple more days so him showing up like this wasn't something you were exactly ready for. you quickly scrambled to get yourself together and prepare for the inevitable conversation. you were sure he'd notice you dressed in his clothes (you had on his spider-man jacket and black headband to hold back your 613 lace). you had already rolled yourself a couple blunts so you decided to light up until the moment of truth.
as each hit filled your lungs with smoke, you could feel the anxiety fade. you hadn't anticipated meeting suguru so soon. and you're terrified of what this conversation could possibly mean for your friendship. on one hand if he decides to pursue a relationship with mei mei thats his business, but on the other, you know that it would be at the expense of your relationship with him. you haven't been able to be in a room with her ever since she outed your little sibling for being nonbinary. it had been something only a few people knew about but somehow mei's nosy ass found out and told anyone she could get to listen. now your family never backs down from a fight, your parents made sure of that. but it gets exhausting always being an outcast (being 3 years older you couldn't do too much to help, but at least they had yuji, nobara, and megumi around).
but when they came home one afternoon covered in bruises with a tired smile on their face saying, 'i won, i won' over and over again, you couldnt just sit idly. you went and showed that bitch who the fuck you were. and who you were was a fuckin maniac. you had slammed mei mei's head into a window, broke her nose, bruised her ribs, and gave her a black eye. suguru had to pull you off of her that day because you couldn't calm down. had the boys let you that day, you could have really beat the brakes off that girl. which is why her scary ass always runs away when you enter the room. instead she likes to talk shit and throw shots at you on social media.
the day of the fight, when mei was at the hospital she told doctors she had been mugged because she was too prideful to admit that she got her ass whooped.
just thinking about the shit you did to her that day brought a wicked grin to your face as you continued to smoke your blunt. if suguru wants a fuckin encore, you'll give him one alright... this blunt had given you time to think and fester on why you were so angry with your best friend. he was there for you for your worst moments, he held you as your body shuddered with sobs seeing your sibling lying in the hospital bed. he was there after your first date. he walked you to and from classes after she tried to spread a particularly nasty rumor about you. he was there when you cried yourself to sleep after your first boyfriend told you there is no way hed bring a girl that looks like you home. suguru has seen you in ways that nobody else in the world has. and his proximity to a person who actively tries to do you harm is just... unacceptable.
as time had went on you even decided to pour yourself a glass of wine and wait in the living room with your last blunt. you were really going to give suguru a piece of your mind...
not too long after you migrated to your living room and started smoking, you heard rapid footsteps outside your door followed by frantic knocks. you took your sweet time unraveling yourself from your blanket on the couch to head to the door. you opened it to find your best friend red, sweaty, and panting.... with a backpack that you were sure contained some kind of peace offering for you.
you wordlessly let geto into your apartment, taking a long sip from your glass and an even longer drag from your blunt. you blew out a sigh as he wasted no time in heading straight to your room. as soon as he set his bag down next to your bed, geto whirled around to face you with wide eyes filled with something you couldnt quite place.
"y/n baby what is goin on. first you wanna take the bus home by yourself knowin damn well how unsafe it is. then you wanna avoid me, ME! for weeks, not a peep from you, nada nothing! you even turned your read receipts off for me mamas, you completely iced me out. now i gotta find out that your tryna buy from other people? what the hell happened, what did i do to make you this upset at me?"
by the end of his speech, geto had inched closer and closer to you before reaching out to grab your hand and pull you with him on the bed. you huffed angrily before spitting out,
"didn't think you'd miss me too much since you've been spending so much fuckin time with mei mei lately. i saw her instagram stories suguru, i know you've been with her so don't even try to lie!" you twisted and tried to get away but he had a vice-like grip around your midsection.
"woah woah woah, these are very serious accusations sweetheart. now i haven't been with her for over a year you know that, i slept with her a few times but once you told me how it made you feel i nipped it in the bud. so what stories are you talkin about, hm?" suguru had leaned back from you so that he could make eye contact. he wanted you to know that he was telling the truth, he knew he was stupid to have slept with mei mei in the first night but one drunken night led to two which led to 5 or 6 times before you finally ripped him a new one for it. since then he had actually blocked mei mei on everything, he wouldn't even sell to her. shoko or utahime would always pick it up.
the reluctance was clear as day on your face, so geto quickly whipped out his phone to show you his blocked lists on his phone. instagram, twitter, snapchat, hell he even blocked her on tiktok, discord, and her telephone number. the longer you looked through his phone the more confused you felt. then what the hell....?
"so then what the fuck is this?" you showed suguru the screenshots you were sent of mei's story featuring him. his brows furrowed in confusion and his mouth itched low in irritation before geto let out a scoff.
"baby these are old as shit, i didnt even know she had these let alone posted them. see, this one in my car was literally the last time i messed with her. and she was only in my car because she had no other way to get home. all of these were before i got your initials done love." suguru zoomed in on the picture of him driving, and sure enough the red cursive ink was missing from the side of his face (you didnt know this but he had gotten that tattoo done that same day. dropped off mei and went straight to his shop).
you quickly scrolled through the other texts hakari sent you.... and they were all missing that red tattoo... well this is embarrassing.
"oh." while you were scrolling, geto's face had gotten softer as he watched the realization cross your features.
"yeah, 'oh' is right. now you wanna tell me what's goin on? you really been throwin me for a loop here these past few weeks. it really hurt my feelings seein you text sukuna for that zip. i mean, i know we're all friends and if you were gonna shop with anyone im glad it was him... but did you forget what i said? i promised to take care of you, so why you not lettin me?" geto peered at you with such a sad expression and you started to feel bad.
you really didn't think he would be this affected by it, yeah he'd be bitter you shopped with someone else but you thought he would get over it. you didn't know you hurt him this bad. you situate yourself and him on the bed so that you could wrap your arms around his shoulders. you knew that tonight would include a much deeper conversation with him, one that you've been steadily avoiding since you were younger. but maybe its good that this happened, this way you can both move on with your lives.
"i'm so so sorry suguru. i thought they were recent since i hadn't seen them before. i should've known better as soon as i saw mei mei posted it. i was just so mad seeing you with her. i mean, after seeing everything i had been through with her... it was so hard to keep my cool when i found out you slept with her. it made me think about a lot, a lot about us."
you shifted to grab his face and look your first love in his widened eyes,
"suguru geto, i'm in love with you. i've been in love with you for the past 6 years. honestly? i've probably been in love with you my whole life. seein her post made me realize that i'm tired of hiding it. i don't want you treating anyone else like you do me, and i don't care how selfish that sounds. no one in this world loves you like i do, i love the way you throw gummies at satoru till he wakes up. i love how you buy kento weird ties for christmas every year. i love how you say you don't snore even though you totally do. i love that you pinky promised to take care of me and haven't broken it once. but you made a vow to be with me as soon as you promised, so are you gonna to take responsibility for what you've done to me or am i gonna have to get someone else to do it?"
your confession had started to get more aggressive as you went on, but that was just how much he meant to you. the more you talked the more you realized how much you had been holding back. loving suguru was never difficult, but keeping yourself in check was. wrestling your feelings of jealousy with each of his hookups was a challenge; they never stuck around for long but each had the nerve to test you. one had even tried texting you off his phone on some shady shit trying, but you quickly told her to give him back his phone before you played double dutch with her vocal chords.
as you held sugurus face, you could see the information process. his eyes were filled with such an intense emotion it took you aback as the biggest smile you'd ever seen danced across his face. the tips of his ears started to burn bright red as he gazed up at you.
"god i'm so fucking in love with you" you quickly shove him away in embarrassment as your love lets out a loud and happy laugh.
"sugu-!" you shout, he's so fucking unserious sometimes.
"i'm serious moonlight, you think just any girl gets tatted on me? baby i have your initials, birthday, and our zodiac signs. i didn't think i'd be tellin you this, but my very first tattoo was dedicated to you sweetheart."
now you were confused, "what? no it wasn't, your first tattoo was the one of-"
"-the stick figure? no my darling, that was the first one i showed you. i didn't wanna show you this one because i knew you'd be mad it was my first tattoo. but i couldn't imagine anything but you being the first piece of permanent ink on me." suguru could see the confusion still lingering on your face, so he slid away from you for a moment to slip off his pants. you could feel your face twist as you watched suguru strip himself half naked in your room...until you saw what he was trying to show you. he had pulled up the left leg of his boxers up a little bit, revealing a ring of words coiled around his upper thigh. you and the bright red ink practically had a staring contest. your full name (first, middle, and last), sat almost like a garter around him. the thought of that.....made your head spin.
you looked back at him and briefly caught his eyes before he swiftly turned away. he looked... embarrassed? suguru rarely got embarrassed, sum bullshit about 'bein too old for that shit. i did what i did or said what i said.' this nigga think he grown or something...
before you had a chance to respond, geto beat you to it,
"look i-i know that you might be upset and i'm sorry i didn't say anything to you before. i just... i didn't know how to tell you? you were always on me about getting 'something that has meaning' to me and that's you. but shit happened and then after a while too long had passed and it felt too late? if that makes sense? and when i first brought it up you didn't like the idea but honestly how could i not? y/n i've been in love with you since we were 15. i knew as soon as i got in the game that i was gonna take care of you and i meant that. but i never thought you'd feel the same way. kento never failed to point out that all my hookups looked like you in some way, i never thought this would happen. so i was content to love you the way i used to, but i can't believe it took TOJI of all people to stop being scared of my feelings. so these past couple months i've been tryna show you that i want you. but apparently i didn't do a good enough job."
you whined in protest. by now you had found yourself situated on sugurus lap with one hand rubbing your thigh and the other tucking your head under his chin.
"i know you don't think so ma, but if i did, we wouldn't be here right now yeah? i wanted to take it slow, have you gradually fall in love with me like those movies and books i know you like reading. i just wanted to do right by you moonlight. im sorry that all this happened before i could."
suguru held you tightly and began to rub your back to sooth you. a few tears had slipped from your eyes and you wipe them on your sleeve. youd felt his hands pulls yours down, forcing you to meet his soft gaze.
"y/n, i love you. i love how you always crochet me gifts, i love how you always wear sweaters no matter the weather, i love how trust me to help you take care of your hair, i love how you can't cook a pot of rice- don't look at me like that you know damn well you burn that shit every time. i love the way you love. i love the way you love ME. you've been my number one since the day i met you, and that hasn't changed. i know my past history with my partners has been shoddy to say the least, but never for a second think that i felt for them what i've felt for you my whole fucking life. and if it's okay with you, i'd really like the chance to show you, truly, how much i mean it when i say that i love you."
suguru gazed into your eyes with a level of honesty you've only seen a few times. you wanted to give him hell for all the slow burn that he put you through... but how can you? the love of your life just told you he feels the same, the only thing you could do was say,
"suguru, you're such a fuckin idiot. stop talking and kis-"
before you could finish, your love surged forward and connected his lips to yours. kissing suguru geto was like trying to breathe underwater, you happily let him take the lead; loving the way he dominated the kiss. his lips were smoother than you'd ever imagine (all those years of reminding him to wear chapstick payed off). you could almost feel his heart pounding against yours, the previous anxiety you'd felt melting away as you both poured yourselves into a moment that was long overdue. his scorching hands had begun to move until one rested on your lower back while the other led your legs to wrap around his waist. when you had both FINALLY decided to pull away from each other and catch your breaths, suguru couldn't contain his excitement. he quickly twisted your bodies and tackled you to the bed, wrapping you in his arms with an airy laugh,
"FUCK holy shit y/n does this mean we go together? like real bad? 'cuz i've been waiting for this moment for quite literally most of my life so i'm a little geeked right now. hOLY SHIT- can i use your back as a rolling tray? that would be so hot-" you quickly cut suguru off by kissing him again, relishing in his moans as you use his hair to guide his lips on yours. as you once again separate from each other, you smile at him. your best friend. your other half. you giggle and move your hand to lovingly caress his face before responding,
"yes, suguru. we go together REAL fucking bad."
THE END
400 notes · View notes
pedge-page · 3 months
Text
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife Follow up to the drabble on the Pepsi pregnancy dillema, inspired by @alltheseperfectimperfections 's comment:
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Also supported by @wanda2themax
- - - -
You're just getting so cranky lately. Short tempered, stressed with work, your body weight not going back down despite working out, period all fucked up now, and with your little Sarah's terrible tantrums as shes just barely approaching 2, and with Joel's... everything. Everything about him is pissing you off now.
He's been exhausted between you and the kid that his only alone quiet time is late at night.
Joel glances at the clock which shines 2:34am brightly. He rubs his eyes aggressively with his big palms. You're passed the FUCK out with your hair everywhere, arm draped over his chest like a fallen maiden with drool slipping from your snoring mouth.
He kisses your hand before gently tucking you in without stirring you. With one final look at your sleeping body, he closes the door behind him and quietly heads downstairs.
The bright florescent light of the refrigerator has his eyes squinting as he searches for something sugary. Part of your irritability was scolding him for drinking too much pop, not enough water. So he's been looking forward to just having a Pepsi in peace.
He digs in the back and finds the blue can. There's a solid crack as he pops it open, then hissing as the bubbles subside. Titling back, he sips from the little hole and sighs.
He closes his eyes and breathes in the peace.
Just as he closes the door, he sees a creepy shadowed silhouette of a figure standing in the pitch black hallway from the stairs.
He flinched hard and shouts "FuCKIN--shit!" As he clutches the can to his chest and spilling a bit on his shirt.
Its just you.
He sighs, clutching his chest to lower his heart rate. "Christ, baby you scared me."
Your lips are thin lined, apparently unbothered by Joel's reaction. The nightgown dangles by your knees, hair still messy but eyes--empty. Wide and blank. It takes him a second to register you're looking at the metal can in his hand rather than him.
"Ah, I'm--it's just a little. Can't get mad at me for it--"
But you're not listening, gliding towards him like a ghost and holding your hand out.
He sighs grumpily and gives in, surrendering his sweet drink.
Instead of dumping it down the sink, however, you bring it to your mouth and all but CHUG the pepsi like a thirsty desert survivor. And you keep. Going. The entire can. Usually just a sip and you're hiccuping but right now, he can audibly hear each gulp, the can crinkling in your clutch as you suck it down.
Once ever drop has safely traveled down your throat. You burp--something you NEVER do--without caution or care.
"That was good. Goodnight," you say plainly. Then walk back up the stairs and disappear into the dark.
Joel just stands there wondering what that was all about.
The next day you don't bring anything up, or act any different.
He starts testing his "hunch."
He leaves unopened cans next to your bed, but you never drink it. You seem to only have a craving when he's already opened it (and drinking it for himself).
He once opened a Pepsi bottle then dropped his phone. Bending down to pick it up, and looking back to the table to find it gone. He goes into the living room to see you and Sarah mindlessly watching dancing fruit on the TV and taking little sips without acknowledging his presence.
He also had Tommy over for dinner once and had a coke and pepsi open in his arm. He extends the coke to you, but without missing a beat, you take the pepsi in his other hand and walk away with it.
Tommy pipes up and asks, "I thought you were a cola girl?"
"I am," you state confidently, sipping down the pepsi can without question. "Why?"
Tommy just eyes Joel suspiciously and shrugs it off with you.
It's not until you've had 12 more pepsi's this WEEK that he's sitting you down. He opens a can and you greedily take it in two hands, sipping away. You squeeze your eyes and shiver. "OooOooOooOo spicy!" You squeak.
"Honey," he says tentatively yet as calm as possible.
"What."
"I think we should take a trip to the doctors today."
"What why? What's wrong? What happened, are you okay??"
"No nothing wrong with me, baby. For you..."
"Me??? What's wrong with me, mister?"
His eyes gesture to the aluminum in your hand. You stare at it confused, looking at it closely, as if it has a skull and cross bone posion on it--I mean, it doesn't LOOK like anything is wrong with it? Just a normal pepsi--until it clicks.
Your jaw drops. You gasp so dramatically.
And he gasps too with a comically uncontained smile.
You both hear a tiny gasp below you as Sarah looks up to mommy and daddy just wanting to be part of the gasping fit.
And you gasp again and look the can and he's gasping back, but in a mocking playful way where hes pretending he didn't figure it a week ago already. Not that you even care because holy FUCK you're gasping incredulously since youre only JUST NOW FIGURING IT OUT.
"NO. NO WAY."
He just smiles widely and tries not to laugh. "Gotta find out for sure but. Seems like it."
But then your smile fades, and you start staring at Sarah and then your belly, and you're already considering cursing out its new occupant.
"WHY DOES NO ONE LIKE COKE WITH ME! WHATS NEXT??? WE'RE GONNA BE A HUNTS KETCHUP FAMILY????"
- - - -
Notes: yes fuck it baby #1 is Sarah. I kept dancing around giving her own name but nah.
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tvgals · 1 year
Text
‘ IM GON BE THAT BITCH TODAY AND STILL GON BE THAT BITCH TMRW, BITCH. ‘
drugstore owner! tanaka x black! fem! reader <3
cw- black fem reader, tanaka is infatuated with you ! also the smuttiest of smut
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as the girlfriend of a drugstore owner, you’d think you would get stuff for free right? wrong ! tanaka is very stingy, even when it comes to his pretty girl.
“but babyyyyy,” you whine, caressing tanaka’s chest in persuasion, “just one bottle of patron won’t hurt nobody! pleaseee!” your acrylics slowly raising up to his shaved head. “nope. sorry, mamas. payin’ customers only.” he rejects, pulling you closer to him by your waist. “ryuuuuu’ baby please! i jus’ wanna have fun with my friends tonight! i swear i’ll pay you back anyway i can!” you say, eyes practically shattering the plastics that make up the lenses in your square eyeglasses
“mmmm…anyway, yeah?” he asks, cocking a brow. “anyway!” you promise, kissing his cheek. “alright. go take a bottle. have fun mama.” he tells you, kissing your forehead. “thank you baby!” and with that, you run into the aisle that withheld all of the alcohol, and you take a bottle of patron, waving one last goodbye to your boyfriend behind the counter and you walk out.
you make it to your car, trying to pick up your pace due to the cold eating at your arms and legs. you make it to your car and plug the keys into the engine, shuddering due to the cold. you look to your right and see tanaka’s hoodie. you shrug and put it on, the fleece that was sewn into the hoodie helping your body temperature. once you were fully settled into your car, you call your friend and put her on speaker phone.
“heyyyy! you on yo’ way?”
“yeah, i’m just now leavin’ though. i’ll be there in like 10 minutes.”
“you got the patron?”
“duh. ryu gave it to me for free.” you brag.
“girl i wish my man got me stuff for free. aight i’ll see you later.”
“bye.”
and with that, you hung up the phone. down the street and around two corners from tanaka’s store. you hear a ding on your phone. you pick it up and pause the music previously playing on your aux, due to the fact tanaka sent a video.
< 61 bald bitch 🫶🏾
you should see what ur missin out on mama
*1 attachment*
you click it, already guessing what it was. the stereo that was previously playing city girls was taken over by the sounds of the pre-cum that was slathered over tanaka’s tip and the sounds he made due to it.
‘miss ya so much mama..’
‘can’t wait for ya to come back..need ya so bad..’
you practically type at what can be only classified as lightning speed,
god dammit ryunosuke. give me five minutes.
and with that, you swerve your car back around and hit those two corners once again and race down the street. parking sloppily once you get there. just from the lobby of the store, you can hear your boyfriends heavy breathing and his light whimpers. “dammit dammit..” he whines, throwing his head back. you march to the work room and see tanaka in the midst of his ecstasy. “you’re such a fuckin’ asshole.” you murmur, a snarl on your face. “yeah huh…enough of a….shit…enough of an asshole to come back?” he chuckles.
i’ll come back in like two hours when i get more motivation to finish this i apologize
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its-time-to-write · 7 months
Note
Jamie tartt friends with benefits would be very fun! I love how you write Jamie it’s so so incredibly lovely
I wrote this bc I’m mad about old men trying to tell me how to do my job.
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soft hands hit the jagged ground
It starts off as a joke, really. 
You’re both at the same party and arguing about who’s the better kisser, when suddenly your lips are on Jamie’s and neither of you are quite sure who made the first move. 
You don’t talk much, just enough to say that this competition extends to other physical activities and to order a car, so a few hours later you collapse exhausted on the bed in your flat. 
“Fuck,” Jamie gasps. 
“Fuck,” you agree. 
“We’ve got to do this again sometime,” he says, hand on his stomach as he stares up at the ceiling. 
“Give me ten minutes,” you reply. “Can’t let my twenties go to waste now, can I?”
So yeah, it’s like a thing. 
It’s not a romantic thing, that’s for sure.
It’s a “we just won a match” thing, or a “I had a shit day at work” thing, or “I need to blow off steam and can’t be bothered to pick up a stranger at the club” thing. 
No, romance does not factor in. This is strictly a friendship-type deal. 
It’s great, because neither of you actually has time for a relationship, and hookups are so hit or miss. And besides, you’ve never been extremely thrilled at the idea of some random person knowing where you live. And Jamie’s a little worried that someone will try to steal his jerseys. 
(Not worried enough, apparently, because you manage to make off with one from his Man City days.)
You both swore that neither of you would catch feelings and maybe that would have been true except for the evening Jamie called you and said, “Can I come over?” in a voice you’ve never heard before. 
You’ve barely hung up the phone when he’s knocking at your door, dressed in a suit and actual dress shoes, not trainers, hands leaving your body only for a moment to shut the door and turn the lock. 
He kisses you like he’s got all the time in the world, all slow and hungry.
He touches you almost like you’re someone else, and you’d think it’s strange except you can’t think of anything other than the fact that his body is pressed against yours and he’s holding you like it means something. 
You don’t say anything until you’re walking back to your room wrapped in a towel, water bottles in hand. 
“What was that about?” you ask, handing him his water. 
Jamie barely lifts his head. He decides not to play dumb, to be a little bit truthful. He’s not sure why, maybe because he’s still coming down and his brain doesn’t work proper. 
“Me and the lads were at a funeral today. For Ms. Welton’s dad. Made me feel all fuckin’… strange and shit. Dunno.” He takes a sip of his water and you settle in the bed next to him. 
You nod and say, “Makes sense.” It does. Funerals are fucking strange. The last one you went to had you feeling weird for a month so yeah, you get it. 
You’re both silent for a while longer when Jamie blurts out, “I told Keeley I still loved her,” and then you’re silent again, but it’s a different kind of quiet. The kind where you can practically hear the words oh shit hanging in the air. 
A couple things click into place where they probably shouldn’t, and so you take your cues from Jamie and say what’s on your mind as you blurt out, “Is that who you were thinking of?”
Jamie goes completely still, which is also strange because he’s never still. Always tapping or shifting around or something. 
“Right,” you say, far too brightly. It’s fine, after all. “I understand. Yeah, no, makes sense.”
You’re not sure what else to say after that so you kind of just sit there and wait for Jamie to move again. He does, sits up enough to grab his knickers from where he dropped them off the side of your bed, slide them on, and say, “Better get going. It’s getting late.”
“Yeah,” you say halfheartedly, suddenly very, very tired. It’s doesn’t escape your notice that Jamie doesn’t meet your eyes the entire time he collects his clothes and heads out the door. 
You manage to get up and fish a new pair of underwear from one drawer and a sleep shirt from another, and it’s not until you’re back in your bed that you realize it’s Jamie’s 51 kit. 
But you’re too tired to get up and change so you just leave it and pass out. 
You wake up the next morning with way too many emotions to consider, so you let yourself buy a coffee from the shop instead of making one at home. You get an extra shot of espresso to block out the great big warning bells firing in your head. 
You’re not-so-blissfully unaware of the fact that Jamie’s on the other side of town having a similar morning. One that involves going to Nelson Road early to sneak in some extra cardio so he can work off whatever feelings still linger from last night. 
For a brief moment, he considers going to Dr. Sharon. But no, there’s no need for that because it’s all straightforward, innit? He’s a little fucked from the funeral and telling Keeley he loves her, and all he needs is one more good fuck and then it’s all out of his system. 
Except whenever he thinks about your face of all body parts, his chest gets all squeezy. And worse. 
So maybe it’s not so straightforward. 
He does fucking love Keeley, right? He’d take a bullet for her, and he misses talking to her every day. He scrunches up his face and imagines kissing her, nothing too wild, and it doesn’t make his chest tighten. 
That’s a good thing. 
Right?
By the time you get home from work, you’ve decided that it’s fine. It’s weird that he was thinking about someone else, but it doesn’t mean anything. Honestly, you two are just messing around until one of you decides to get into a relationship. So yeah, it’s all good. It’s not like you’d date him anyway. 
You’ve been pushing away thoughts like that for years, you’re not about to let them surface now. 
Jamie does not particularly want to talk to Dr. Sharon about this. He wants to talk to Keeley, except last time he tried that she walked him all the way to the therapist’s office and left him there. 
He thinks maybe Ted would be good, except he’s not sure Ted would know how to deal with Jamie’s whole “friends with benefits” situation. 
Beard probably would, except his relationship with Jane is one step away from psychotic, so Jamie thinks that he’ll talk to Sam because Sam is smart and probably won’t judge him. 
It works out, actually, because he’s going over to Sam’s for a sleepover since they have an out-of-town match the next day, and need to be up early. Jamie hates waking up early so Sam promised to make sure he wouldn’t press the snooze button on his alarm. 
So yeah, now he’s in Sam’s car (a fucking Tesla, all eco-friendly and shit) and they’re talking about training and brand deals and Jamie asks if Sam’s got a girl, but Sam just blushes and says I don’t know, not anymore before turning the question on Jamie. 
Jamie sighs and puts his face in his hands. “Let’s wait till we ain’t in your fucking car, yeah? It’s too fucking long to say here.”
Sam obliges and just turns up the radio for next eight minutes it takes to get to his house. 
Jamie hauls his bag into Sam’s flat and down on the guest room floor before taking a deep fucking breath. 
Right. He can do this. 
He makes his way to the kitchen where Sam’s pulling something out of a crock pot and Jamie is a little envious of his ability to cook so well for himself. 
Sam is oblivious to Jamie’s internal monologue as he says, “Alright, this girl. Tell me about her.”’
Jamie takes another breath and then the words just come spilling out. 
“I’ve known her since we were fucking…fifteen or some shit and like, we’ve always been friends. But lately it’s been like, what’s the word, friends with benefits? Where we have sex but aren’t dating. It’s been alright, mostly, except yesterday I told Keeley I loved her and things got all fucked up in me head.”
“How so?” Sam prods encouragingly. 
“It’s like…” Jamie pauses. What is it like? “Thinking about kissing Keeley didn’t make me all tingly or nothing. Dunno, felt- wrong. But I think of her face-” he groans. “Shit, man, me heart started pounding like mad. I’ve seen her naked, and it’s her face that gets me. I mean, what the fuck is that?”
Sam’s face is doing some weird contortionist movement, trying to hide his expression, so Jamie says, “Fucking hell man, spit it out before you break something,” and Sam says, 
“I don’t think you love Keeley.”
That makes Jamie mad. Of course he loves Keeley. He’d do anything for Keeley. 
Sam must see it written in his face because he hurries on. “I don’t mean that you don’t have love for her. I mean that you do not seem to love her romantically. It would seem to me you like this other girl.”
Well shit. That’s exactly what Jamie was afraid of. Leave it to Sam to get to the heart of the problem in five minutes, only this leaves him with another problem:
He’s spent the last nine years pretending like he had only friendly feelings toward you. Innocent, like. 
He can’t let all that pretending go to waste now. 
You don’t see each other for a week which is fine, because you had decided way beforehand not to meet up until the next weekend. You were finishing a major project at work and he was wrapping up a killer week at training. Hence, Friday night was the night to blow off all that steam.
You’ve successfully squashed any feelings for Jamie. They’re gone, buried deep down once again and you will not let them come back up.
And yet, you’ve put on a pink set under your shirt and sweat shorts, with a little more makeup than you’d gone to work with. Maybe the whole Keeley thing is lingering in your head a little more than you thought.
Whatever. Doesn’t matter.
You grab your keys and head out the door to Jamie’s house.
Jamie’s already texted you to let you know the door’s open, so you slip in and turn the lock behind you. The foyer is lit with a dim glow from upstairs.
“Jamie?” you call softly, “You here?”
There’s no response, so you pad up the stairs, stopping only to drop your keys on top of the table in the hall.
“Jamie?”  you say again, peering into his bedroom. Ah. So that’s where the light’s coming from. 
Jamie jumps from where he’s been bending over a candle. “Shit, you scared me. Didn’t hear you fucking come in.”
You smile tentatively, unsure what to say. Jamie shakes out the match and crosses over to the ensuite to drop it into the sink. He comes back out again and dips you into a kiss.
He says, “Nice shirt,” with his lips still against yours, and it’s only then that you remember you’ve put on his old kit, the one you stole the second time you went home with him.
You grin and kiss him again, waiting to be on your own two feet again so you can slide a hand under his sweatshirt. Neither of you have worn anything particularly amazing because it’s what’s underneath that counts, isn’t it?
Jamie’s thinking something similar because he starts backing you up to the bed as you fumble to slip shirts over heads and pants down on the floor. He traces an appreciative palm over a pink flower appliqué, and then you push the last traces of doubt as he hooks a finger under your waistband.
“What’s with all the candles?” you ask, when it’s dark enough to be considered nighttime but the clock says it’s technically morning.
“Setting the mood,” Jamie replies, voice gravely and just a little bit raw.
“Hmm,” you say. “Glad you didn’t burn the house down.”
Jamie’s been pressing kisses up your bare arm and you can feel him grin at that. “Psh. I’m an adult now. I’m fuckin’ responsible.”
“Sure,” you chuckle, then shiver as Jamie’s mouth has found its way to a spot behind your ear. “You ready to go again?”
“No,” Jamie replies between kisses, “What makes you think that?”
“Just a hunch,” you say as you roll on top of him. You trace his lower lip with your thumb, and he takes that opportunity to his it. And to run his knuckles up your sides.
“Fucker,” you hiss. “That tickles.”
He smirks, a real one, with his eyes all heavy-lidded and the barest hint of his teeth gleaming in the candlelight. 
“Yeah?” he whispers. “What about this? Does this tickle?”
He actually fucking dances his fingertips up your sides as you gasp and try to get off of him. He’s not having it, because he rolls you over and continues tickling you as if you hadn’t just been fucking fifteen minutes ago. 
You’re laughing and half-heartedly pushing at him and it’s so ridiculous that you stop trying to get him away and instead press as much of your skin against his as you can. 
He’s whispering in your ear, a combination of crude jokes and compliments, the kind that makes a blush bloom from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears.
God fucking damn it, he’s going to be the death of you, but you can’t make yourself stop smiling.
He’s still murmuring in your ear and he’s saying something about how fucking gorgeous you look, how fucking beautiful you’d look on the side of the pitch with his number on or as his date to some event and how everyone would be jealous because you’re so fucking hot, but you belong with him and he’s the one who gets to see you last thing at night and first thing in the morning.
It’s so utterly ridiculous.
He’s only saying it because he’s so far gone.
It’s so. Utterly. Ridiculous.
“Jamie, we can’t date,” you say between giggles.
He pauses to ask “Why not?” and the remnants of your laughter die in your throat. Oh shit. One good look at his face tells you he’s not joking. 
“Jamie,” you say again, this time more seriously, “Jamie, we really can’t date. That’s not how this works. You’re supposed to date a model or an actress or something, and I’m supposed to date, like, an accountant. Or a lawyer.”
“Why?” Jamie asks, accent thick as it’s ever been. 
“Because,” you reply. “I’m not really the trophy-girlfriend type. And… we’ve been friends pretty much forever. It’d mess everything up when we break up.” He’s still on top of you, propping himself up on his elbows so he can see your face. You want to point out that this is a conversation that probably requires clothing, but you don’t actually want that so you stay silent.
“What if we didn’t break up?” he suggests. 
You bark out a short laugh. “It doesn’t work like that. You can’t just choose not to break up.”
“Can,” he responds.
“Can’t,” you counter. 
“Don’t be Roy Kent,” he says.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you reply. “And anyway, I’m way sexier than him. And less scratchy.”
“You fucking like when I tell you what to do,” he says. 
You make a face. “I like it when it’s sexy. This is not sexy. This is sad and stupid, and we promised we wouldn’t have this conversation.”
“You promised,” Jamie reminds you. “I just didn’t disagree.”
He’s not wrong.
“Fine,” you say, pushing him a little so he’ll get off you. 
You sit up and wrap the sheets around your chest, pulling your knees close. “You told me less than a week ago that you were still in love with Keeley, and now you want me to date you? I love you, but you’re just getting your wires crossed because we’re having sex.”
Jamie shoots up, mouth open and you realize what you just said. 
“Shit, not like that, I mean as a friend, not- not as- I don’t know, I didn’t mean to say that,” you stutter out.
“I love Keeley as a friend,” Jamie says. “Talked to Sam about it, and he says I don’t know how to tell the difference between a friend and fucking romance. He said I’m fucking in love with you, not her, and he’s fucking right.”
You’d say that sounds like the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard, except you’ve known Jamie for nine years and yeah, that sounds like something he’d do.
“Right,” you say slowly, “and you just now started feeling this way?”
He hesitates before deciding fuck it. “Nah. I think- I’ve been pretending like I didn’t since we were like, fuckin’ sixteen, probably. Didn’t want to screw it up though, did I?”
You shake your head before saying, “No, I guess not.”
“And anyway, us being together is that different from what we do now,” he continues. “Dating just means we can like, hold hands.”
You laugh and ask, “Is that the only thing that’s going to change?” but you can feel your resolve softening. Jamie can feel it too.
“Nah,” he says, feeling confident to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I can tell you that I love you. And kiss you just because. And get me mum off my back about never making a move on you.”
You say, “Hmm,” as if you’re considering it, but he knows you’ve already made your decision by the way you reach for him with both hands with a smile beginning to bloom across your face.
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pedgito · 1 year
Note
hey, im a big fan of your writing. I am also a big fan of Javier Peña, Joel and Din lmao. So can I request a story about either one of those (mostly sfw mainly because im in my feelings) that is more of a hurt/comfort angst? Maybe bottled feelings are freed, a near death experience occurs after a heated confession that didn't go well...? idk I leave it up to you if you want to write it of course. Anyways, again, love love your stories, especially the way your portray Javier. Have a nice week <3
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pairing | javier pena x fem!reader
content warning | mostly sfw, arguments over commitment/relationships, mention of violence (bombing), descriptions of minor injuries and emotional distress, just lots and lots of angst [2.6k]
author’s note | this screamed javi so hard so i couldn't pass up the opportunity to write some angst for him
↝ other fics | requests? | ao3
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You’ve been at it for months now, waiting for Javier to finally give in and confess to you what he’s been holding back for so long—he’s so closed off it’s impossible, his back turned to you as he grips the chair shoved into the small dining table tucked in the corner of his apartment.
This was supposed to be a one off job, spend a couple months down in Bogotá with Steve—play alongside him in the hopes of catching Escobar, settling into a mix between the three of you, realizing fairly quickly that Peña wasn’t the type of nice guy you were used to.
He was brazen, straight-forward and a little bit—scratch that, a lot of an asshole, so full of himself that it oozed out. Still, that didn’t stop you from climbing into his bed a week into your stay, breaking the one rule you had.
Never fucking sleep with your co-workers.
Look where it got you; fighting an emotionless wall of stone.
He wants you, but he can’t have you. He doesn’t want to see you with other people, but he can’t stake his claim and call you his—but god forbid you so much as consider eyeing another person, someone interested in showing you the attention you wanted, that you deserved. His jealousy is unmatched, the curl in his lip when he sees you across the room around them, the short and fleeting touches they gave to your arm in passing—from your perspective, a simple gesture between friends, but to Javier, it's a threat.
And it wasn’t that he didn’t try to show you attention—Javier was more than that, all-consuming in a way, passionate to a fault. But, he was not a lover type guy.
Still, you were naive enough to think you could change that.
“I’m not doing this anymore,” You spoke strongly, watching the tilt of his head as looks down, burning a cigarette held between his fingers, “whatever this is—we can forget about it.”
“Yeah—I’m sure the others will have a fuckin’ field day when they catch wind,” Murphy let it slip once and it’s been the constant topic of conversation, playful teasing toward you but torture on Peña who likes to keep things private, always, “always eye fucking you across the room.”
“Who cares, Javi?” You ask, feeling like you were talking to a ghost as he refused to look at you. “You don’t give a shit what’s going on here, why should I?”
And it hurts because you do.
It was innocent at first, one hookup that should’ve ended that night. But, one turned into several and eventually you were spending most night at Javier’s apartment to the extent of grabbing dinner on the way there—or, for fucks sake, cooking for the man. You knew that he loved breakfast in the mornings despite his constant refusal to eat it, how he couldn’t focus without his first cup of coffee and why he kept his gun at his bedside and the spare under the mattress.
He’s got scars, faint but visible when you lay against his chest at night—some from childhood, some not, but you wouldn’t know had you not spent the time with him and watched the vulnerability he showed when it was just you, just him after a long, stressful day trying to catch a terrifying monster and the both of you itching to burn off steam.
“You can’t ask me on a date, can’t—jesus—you can’t even look at me, Javier.” He hears the break in your voice, how hard you’re struggling to keep things together.
And you’re fuming, furious, aiming to hit him where it really hurts. You want him to feel. Feel anything.
“You like to play house and let me cook you meals, act like I’m yours when it’s convenient for you.” He twitches at that, slamming the burnt end of the cigarette into the ashtray. It’s the only real sign of emotion he’s shown all morning. “That’s all you care about. Egoísta.” (Selfish)
He slams the ashtray down roughly, ashes flying over the table. You don’t jump or flinch, not at all fazed by his outburst. You saw it too often during work when things fucked up or didn’t go his way. When he did show emotion it was intense and full body.
“I told you,” He says slowly, turning toward you now, “I don’t do this,” He punctuates slowly, fingering wagging between the both of you, “I can’t do—this.”
Clearly.
“Can’t or won’t?”
The difference is staggering, truly. You wanted an answer.
“You tell me you never want me to leave your bed, your apartment, that you want to keep me here forever because there’s nothing that makes you feel this close to home—and you can’t do this?”
He speaks it against your lips almost every night when he’s pulling you into his chest, pressing those soft lips of his against your forehead and kissing you with a tenderness reserved only for you.
Javier never answers, gaze growing more intense by the second, bound to retreat from the situation before emotions boil over—but you beat him to it, grabbing your bag and storming out without a word.
He’s never had to beg you to stay and he doesn’t realize how desperately he’d wished to ask you until a few hours later, a phone call from Steve that has his heart dropping into his stomach, the equal worry in Murphy’s voice as he relays the information.
Steve mumbles your name—hurt, bomb, Escobar written all over it, dead, so many dead.
You’re lucky to still be standing—or rather alive, forced onto a gurney lined in the aisle of some rundown Bogota hospital where the workers were running rampant, clearly on edge and scrambling to save lives.
It was minor compared to what could have been. A small concussion, some lacerations to your face and a nasty gash on your side that required some stitching. It wasn’t anything some pain medication and bandages couldn’t fix, but in that commotion you had lost all of your belongings, undoubtedly damaged beyond repair. You had been in the shopping center ten minutes prior to the explosion and you were shaken, admittedly, wondering why your life had been spared over so many others.
And you always hear about your life flashing before your eyes during a near death experience, never really believing it until it happens—and selfishly, you couldn’t think about anything but Javi.
He was a nasty parasite, the kind that sucked the life and energy out of you, took everything and gave nothing in return. You knew how he was going into things, knew he wouldn’t budge or change his ways.
But still, there was a hope that maybe he would change.
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The first thing you manage to do when you find a phone is call the embassy—anyone who would answer and let them know what happened, but they were miles ahead and already fifty feet deep into investigating.
Carillo is the first to ask if you’re okay, not that it matters—but then Murphy is scrambling for the phone, a soft commotion in the background as he argues with the man until he finally lets up and hands it over.
“God, we thought you were dead. Please tell me you’re alright?” Murphy pleads, sounding just as strained and worried as you’d expect, “All your limbs, nothing missing?”
You laugh softly into the phone, the first breath of life back into after what has been a terrible day. It’s already evening, the day has come and gone and the sun is setting without a trace of anyone coming to help.
Not that you expected it—Javier wasn’t the type to get over things easily.
“Yep. Head’s still attached and everything.” And Steve can appreciate your way of coping, adding a bit of lightheartedness to a dark situation. You release a shaky breath, squeezing the plastic tighter until cracks under your grip, “Is there—I mean, they just discharged me, but I don’t have a ride.”
“Javier didn’t pick you up?” Murphy asks, sounding confused. “I told him—he should’ve…”
He trails off, cursing away from the phone as he speaks to someone distantly, “Which hospital are you at?”
You look around for any indication, reading off an unfamiliar name to Steve as he repeats it, scribbling it down on a piece of paper.
“Shit—Javi’s probably clear on the other side of town from you.” Murphy runs a tired hand through his hair, over his face. “They told us they sent everyone to the one here close by the embassy.”
Everyone.
Families searching for their missing—you couldn’t even imagine it.
“He—does Javi think I’m—“
“Shit, I don’t know. He’s been on edge since he got here this morning, we’ve been trying to figure something out, anything—he left a few hours ago when we weren’t getting answers and I just—did something happen?”
“I think I pushed him too far this morning,” You say softly, huddling closer to the wall as the halls become more crowded, louder and suffocating in a way that has your curling around yourself slightly, mindful of the pain in your side, “fuck, maybe this is karma, Steve.”
“Hey, no—don’t say that shit,” He stops you in your tracks, “Javi is…Javi, you can’t predict anything he’s gonna do. Dude’s a fuckin’ brick wall half the time.”
There’s a long moment of silence.
“Steve, I don’t have my phone.” You tell him, “Can you just—call him? Let him know. I need to find a cab or someone willing to drive me back to Bogota if that’s even fucking possible. I don’t even have my wallet or badge with me.”
It’s almost like a divine intervention that you hear Javier on the other end, cutting through the flurry of other voices and busy telephones ringing. He’s wrenching the phone out of Steve’s hand before he can get a word in.
“Querida,” He says soft, voice quivering slightly, “Querida, is that you?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will yourself to remember how badly things ended earlier in the day, even if they didn’t feel as important now, they were still important to you.
Emotions were high now, but the fallout could be devastating.
“Yes, I’m—Javi, I’m okay. A little banged up and stuff but I’ll survive,” The silence grows as he absorbs the information, “Look, I need to go. I have to find a ride back to town.”
“Don’t move,” He says briskly, suddenly, “Fuck—I mean stay there, no te vayas. I’m coming for you.” (Do not go)
The line cuts before you have a chance to reply.
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You love how well he sticks out in a crowd despite how he likes to blend in and not draw attention to himself, but he’s all tanned skin and shiny with a layer of sweat that tells you he probably ran a few blocks to get here.
You did wait, even if it was closer to a half hour before there was any sign of him, despite how upset you still were, you waited.
Of course you did.
His eyes dart around nervously before they land on you, tucked away in a corner as you cradle your side and he’s barreling toward you, scooping you up before you can protest. The small squeak you release has him pulling back like someone stabbed him with a hot brand, brows furrowed with worry.
“My side,” You mumble, shifting his hand away from the wound, watching as it falls helpless to his side again, his gaze lingering over your body, face, seeing the amount of damage you took, “hey—I’m fine, all things considered.”
Javier blinks slowly, rubbing around the side of your jaw, careful of the small bandage covering a nasty cut, that familiar pout growing on his lips. You saw it earlier, but the implication was different.
This wasn’t anger. It was worry.
“Mi amor,” He murmurs, oblivious to the commotion around you both as he looks at you, almost straight through you, “fuck—I’m so sorry.”
You breathe through your nose deeply, shaking your head as you grip his wrist for leverage, pulling him alongside you until you’re outside, away from the crowd of people and alone.
“No, I’m sorry.”
And for once, Javier is surprised.
He knows you always have a comeback poised on your tongue, the will to fight and work through any argument that surfaces, but this is defeat. It’s clear as day on your face in the way it falls, eyes softened to the point of near tears and your cheek covered in a dark bruise that makes his chest hurt.
“I don’t know why I’m forcing you to answer to something you don’t want,” That something in question was you, but it didn’t matter, “maybe we let things drag on too long. I was just—happy, I liked it. I shouldn’t have expected anything from you since you were clear from the beginning.”
Even with Javier being the first to cross the lines he drew himself, asking you to stay that one night and never going back, making mistake after mistake until it stopped feeling wrong and started to seem, well, normal. But, here you were, taking the blame like he had no wrongdoing in any of this.
“Bebita, no.” His voice is low, thumb rubbing a tender spot in the side of your neck, a soft touch that massages the ache in your muscles, head tilting into the touch as you look at him. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Oh, the irony.
“Now look at you,” He says, scanning over your face briefly, “consumes mi mente, nena.” (You consume my mind, baby)
“I can’t do halfway anymore, Javi.” It’s pure honesty, fingers finding his wrist as they wrap around delicate, using his touch as an anchor. “I need all of you.”
“Then have it,” Javier says mindlessly, without thinking and speaking instinct—it’s real, you can see it in the way his eyes widen and soften in the same instance, that pleasing look that entraps you, “tómalo.” (Take it)
The tears that sting your eyes don’t fall, but they rise, blinking rapidly to will them away and force yourself to keep composed despite hearing those words, knowing how deeply he meant them.
“Fuck, I’ll marry you if that proves anything to you, querida.” He’s being over-dramatic, but it has your insides fluttering like wildfire, “I should’ve never let you leave this morning.”
But, he was scared. Terrified of how deeply he felt for you.
“There’s so much you don’t know,” Javier explains, “so much I need to tell you but I don’t want to scare you away.”
As if he could.
“Javi, I’m with you.” You tell him steadily, “I always have been.”
Javier laughs through a sigh, breathing through his nose as he smiles for the first time that day.
“We can talk. We will.” Javier nods assuredly, “But, I want to get you home first.”
Home. He means his apartment, but it comes out that way without realizing.
He’s tender when he helps you shower, cleans your wounds up with what little first aid he has, but he manages, helping you dress in what has to be the most vulnerable moment you’ve had since meeting him.
Javier holds you for a long while after that, curled up in his lap on the sofa as he smokes away with his head leaned against the back of the cushion, rubbing a hand over your thigh softly.
“Hermosa?”
You’re nearly asleep by then, rousing with a small hum.
“After all of this,” He trails on, “when we put Escobar away and this shit is done,” He pauses, taking a short drag from the cigarette and blowing it out into the air, “I want you to come back with me.”
“To Texas?”
He nods, squeezing your leg for reassurance.
“I'm terrified of losing you here, but home—I would never let you out of my sight, I could keep you close.”
His trepidation will always be his downfall, but he knows he can’t let you go anymore. He needs you here, he’ll need you after.
“Anywhere you want, Javi. I’ll follow.”
He doesn’t have any reason not to believe you.
“Buena.” (Good.)
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Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡
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iheartjohnlennon · 9 months
Text
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'Let me take you down'
London, '66
Summary: John and Paul see the same so John and Paul share the same (you).
Word count: 3,054
Tags: Smut, Threesome, Unrequited Love
The lounge was adorned with light, drugs, and music. The holy trinity of joy.
The light was more a metaphorical one. But no one had caught your eye, personally.
You had caught a few though.
Through your peripheral vision, you saw John Lennon slightly sauntering towards you.
A cig in hand, flirtation on standby and a smile that would make most of his thirteen-year-old army piss themselves with happiness.
Finally, you thought to yourself. 
He can now stop undressing you with his eyes or making passing comments.
You knew he wanted you, you've known that for a while now. 
You also know of his other half, his bandmate, Paul. He gives you eyes as well.
But you try not to pay Paul any romantic mind because he gouges his eyes out for any woman he sees anyways.
"Well 'ello love." John speaks in a chipper tone, he sits beside you, not even asking if the seat is taken.
His cockiness shines through as he rubs against you, you turn fully to look at him.
"John." You don't give anything up, you won't make it easy.
"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He strokes your chin, he seems disappointed you aren't on your knees from the first hello. 
You scoffed, "Quiet? We've been speaking for seconds John." 
"Ye know wha' I mean.." He rolls his eyes, he didn't like how dismissive you were sometimes.
John always had a simple philosophy of flirt then fuck, which clearly didn't seem to work a hundred percent of the time.
"Why's a bird like you, 'ere alone?" How classic.
"Because I came here alone."
"Well, no shit."
"Don't get rude."
"Not gettin' rude lovely." He took a puff of his cig.
A voice interrupted your little squabble, it was a familiar one, "I reckon he's tryin' to call ya beautiful."
You saw the charming face that matched.
"Which ya are by the way," Paul added with a smirk.
He stood before you both. His hair was dishevelled and he smelled delicious. 
"Alrigh' McCharmly she gets it, fuckin' 'ell." John spoke with an acute bitterness in his tone. He wasn't prepared to let you go yet, especially not to Paul.
"Ha, well, anyways I came here to ask if yous wanted to smoke some grass."
So that's what that aroma was, the one that hypnotized you to no end.
And 'yous'. He wanted you both.
As much as you preferred Paul's company over John's, you were intrigued by this offer of having both of them at the same time, smoking.
"Wha', you wanna smoke 'ere?" John questioned.
"Not really, follow me." Paul palmed your hand in his with a warm smile as John placed his hand on your back possessively.
~
They both ushered you through the bar area upstairs, into some sort of chamber.
It was abundantly less lively than the former and had harmonious jazz playing in the background as opposed to some soft rock.
Everyone looked like they were on something, good and bad. You felt intimidated. John and Paul knew this scene more than you, even though you came to the lounge often.
"Welcome!" Paul began, "Make yerselves at home I suppose, I'll be back."
You and John were oddly close on the sofa. Physically because his arm was loosely around your waist and emotionally because his eyes were intensely on yours.
Maybe it was the music, the lighting, or his flirting that made you yearn for more than just his gaze.
He took your chin in his fingers, "Yer beautiful, ye know that?"
"Do you need me to know that?"
"I'll tell you every day if I can."
John shifted his head, it was on a tilt as if he was going to kiss you. You were happy to oblige, but a vigorous Paul interrupted you both. Again.
He strode in with a plastic baggy filled with weed, rolling paper, and a bottle of Jack Daniels. This could be an undoubtedly long night.
~
Paul placed himself beside you, now you were nicely in between the pair. 
"We'll share one blunt and do a pass around." John affirmed.
"Yeah, an' Y/N will roll 'em 'cause she has tiny, cute fingers." You adored the way Paul tickled your hands after saying that. You sent him a smile and he sat back, hand tracing circles on your back.
You didn't smoke weed often but didn't find it hard to roll the blunt.
"Good girl." John whispered, giving you a smirk.
"Have a light?" You asked no one in particular.
"Sure thing." 
Paul reached into his pocket and fished out a light, he held the blunt between your lips childishly and held your jaw as it lit.
You took in a puff and immediately felt inundated with pleasure and simultaneous dizziness.
You sat down but felt like you were stumbling on a circus wire. You turned to John and Paul, their faces were now just attractive blurs.
You cleared your throat heavily after inhaling more.
"Ladies first." John chuckled.
"Easy there, you ok?" Paul asked patting your back.
"Absolutely sublime." You sneer whilst inhaling even more. You could feel your face getting hot and your vision getting more skewed.
You had enough and passed it on to Paul. This was nothing new and as he took a puff he looked at you with contentment.
His hand was still on your back, rubbing up and down. 
He passed the blunt onto John.
He held your shoulders and began with a lustrous look in his eyes, "I want to kiss ya, lemme kiss ya Y/N?"
You could only nod in response before Paul lay a warm kiss on your lips, his tongue exploring yours as he replaced John's arm with his.
"Slag." John mumbled.
Your noses touched, your tongues tasted and your chests collided as Paul kept his devoted pace.
John watched you and Paul make out whilst longingly taking swigs from the whiskey.
John was watching with a peculiar fixation. He loved the way you groaned as Paul bit your lip, he loved the way you squirmed with each wet kiss.
This was peculiarly turning him on.
Paul met John's eyes for a moment whilst in the middle of necking on with you.
He felt bad for the fella, he was in this cuckold, which wasn't a cuckold because John isn't with you, but still.
Paul stopped kissing you, you sighed craving more of him.
"Can I share ya?" Paul mused to your bewilderment.
"Hm?"
"Sorry, I meant can we share ya?"
"Hm-".
You were overwhelmed with such a flabbergasting joke. You were stopped in your tracks by such a crude joke.
Or?
Was Paul asking for a ménage à trois right now?
John sniggered from beside you, "He's not good with his words, is he? It seems like he wants a threesome, well- we." 
This was convenient. You could all find somewhere private, knew each other well and were as horny as it seems.
Paul spoke, "Ya know, ya really don't have-" 
"I want to." Your eagerness came out as you interrupted him to accept.
Paul put on a grin. He had you where he wanted you.
"We'll take this somewhere more private after you neck on with John."
You did somewhat like John. And you supposed he would have fucked you eventually, but certainly not in this circumstance.
Paul playfully pushed your head towards John's and whispered, "C'mon baby ya know ya want to, I see the way ya look at him."
Before you could even formulate a response, John was already on you. He grasped the back of your head and immediately placed his lips on yours.
His tongue and teeth collided with yours, you could taste each drop of whiskey on him.
Paul smoked and watched with lidded eyes.
John gripped your waist with both hands, his kissing was passionate and abrasive. He groaned, he was properly getting off to this. He got rougher, pushing you into the sofa.
"Alrigh', alrigh' don't kill 'er." Paul cracked up whilst separating you both.
Paul's kiss contrasted with John's. Your lips felt all puffy after John, he looked at you smugly. You couldn't tell the difference between John making you dizzy and what you were smoking.
Paul's task was over and the men on either side of you gave each other a knowing look.
~
You all rushed down the stairs quicker than a blink.
They were all over you the moment the driver set his eyes on the road. You didn't care if the driver was watching, or hearing. You had two pairs of hands on you. Yanks and grabs were all you felt the whole way through. Paul was in one ear and John was in the other.
Paul attacked your neck with smooches and sucks, you giggled girlishly at the feel. 
John buried his face in your breasts and all but tried to leave marks on your chest.
You felt their hands travel down further, like waist down further. You halted their efforts to dually finger you in the back of some car and cautiously mumbled, "Later, later.."
A triad of soft moans and silly giggles continuously echoed in the car, you were sure the driver was sick of you all now.
"Are we nearly there yet?" You said dramatically.
"We arrived minutes ago you daft girl." John laughed.
Jesus, now you were dazed.
Paul began, "Shall we?"
~
The driver didn't bother to say goodbye and drove off with a scowl.
You all sounded hysterical whilst rushing to Paul's hotel room.
The hallway was closing in on you. Paul had his key in hand and fumbled with the lock, John had your ass in his. 
"Any slower McCharmly?" You jested.
"I'll go faster when it's convenient Y/N." 
With his dirty quip and the push of a door, you eventually entered.
Before you could even close the door behind you the duo was still all over you. You felt so many hands it was as if you were crowd surfing. They were taking small bits of clothing off, like ties and shoes, and somehow still found focus on you.
"We aren't even on the bed yet you animals." You whined.
"I'll 'ave ye anywhere." John retorted.
"A bed? Let's get on the bed then princess." Paul cooed, bringing you up to your feet properly.
You couldn't even get on the bed without feeling gropes and pinches all over you. You got on top of the thing and slouched back, in a relaxed position.
Paul made his way on top of you and John got on the side, laying by you. 
Paul confidently took off your articles of clothing. He carelessly tossed your heels on the floor and began working to get your tights and skirt off.
John almost immediately mouthed you in that same rough manner again. He held onto the back of your head, making sure you wouldn't pull back. He took his kiss lower, to your jaw. Lower, to your neck. Lower, to your chest. He dragged your shirt up, so eager to have a taste he couldn't even pause to unhook your bra.
He sucked and fondled your breasts. You let out chortled moans as the ticklish splendour of him using his teeth to nibble and his tongue to swirl drove you over the edge.
"Fuck John-" You seized his hair in your hands, raking through it, drawing him closer. He swapped sides and moved onto the other breast.
The way your body writhed as John sucked you off made it fidgety for Paul to get your bottom half off. He managed in the end and wasted no time in taking an interest in your silk panties.
"Ooo, these are pretty... pretty Y/N.." He marvelled, tracing a maddening thumb over your clit.
As John proceeded with his kissing assault to your top half, Paul took his head to your lower regions. He licked your clit through the panties and teasingly gave it a kiss. 
Then you felt Paul pull your panties aside. He slipped a finger into you and began a come-hither motion inside of you whilst also giving you little flicks with his tongue.
You frolicked around in ecstasy, you were reaching a boiling point from having both successes on your cunt at the same time. You could've cum from this alone, but you comprehended this was going to be a long night.
Your moans only rose louder, they turned into cries, you could feel yourself pulsing. Paul is damned good with his mouth. 
He moved his head off you, leaving you wet and wanting. John also did the same, looking down on you triumphantly.
"Oh Paul...Oh John..." You sighed pleasantly.
The two gave each other another knowing look, you rolled your eyes, "What is it this time?" You flirted.
"Nothin' love, we're jus'...wonderin' ya know." Paul spoke back.
"Wondering about what?" You mused, turning on your stomach.
"How good ya are.." Paul whispered.
"How good I am what?" You question, confused.
John suddenly mocked, "Bloody 'ell Paul, carn't stop speakin' in bloody metaphors can ye?" 
"Awe, I think he's just a bit muddled from what he had earlier Johnny." You tittered.
Paul interrupted, "Righ' I'll get to the point then shall I? We wanna take ya from both ends." 
"You don't have to present everything like a business proposition Paulie." You laughed, getting into a doggy position. 
"Ya are our business Y/N." John enunciated. 
~
Their positions were determined. Paul was behind you and John lay on his back in front of you. You got in between his legs, lowered down on your elbows, and greeted his clothed cock with a kiss.
You could feel him growing stiff as you worked to pull down his trousers, then his boxers.
Before Paul could put anything in, he was working to get fully naked.
John would have preferred fucking you from behind but he felt like the guest star, being all lounged back, receiving attention from your mouth.
You got his trousers off, then his boxers, you received a happy welcome. 
He met your eyes and snatched your hair in his hands. "Yer beautiful...so beautiful..." John murmured, stroking a thumb across your lips. 
"Isn't she." Paul chirped in, guiding his cock towards your entrance, in a reverie, all imperceptive and seductive. 
You practically shivered at the intention, his first thrust was unreal, different to any cock you had felt before, maybe because it was him. 
His cock naturally felt more distinct than his fingers. Its thickness caressed your vaginal canal and provided tinges to your G-spot via the tip. 
He sped up the moment he got that first feel, moving you forward before you could even fit the latter into your mouth, the impulsive movement causing you to brush your face against his cock as opposed to sucking. 
"Mmmph, mmm." Paul moaned. 
"Fuck- fuck-" was all you could muster as John watched in amusement. He gave himself a few tugs before discovering great solace in your lips. 
He bobbed you up and down, vulgarisms rang from his mouth as you wrapped your lips around the top inches and used your hands to trace what your throat wasn't handling. 
"Fuckin' 'ell Y/N...fuckin' 'ell...keep goin' baby, jus' like tha'..." John's head lulled back in fulfilment, he honoured you to high heaven and was for the time thankful Paul was here, as every thrust he gave you caused your moans to vibrate onto his cock. 
~
You were all moaning messes, utterly void of any emotion apart from pleasure and whatever emotion you would call being under the influence. 
You were being rag-dolled back and forth and wished for every bit of it. 
John's hand got tighter but his once consistent up-and-down movement got sloppier, his hips moved up lightly, trying to get as much of you on his cock as humanely possible. 
He was balls deep within your mouth, you were taking in a nose full of his pubic hair. "Yer goin' to make me cum- Jesus Christ Y/N!" His words were still riddled with praise and hastiness as his free hand palmed your tits. He grunted as each movement he made caused the sensitive tip to touch the back of your throat. 
You relished in providing John pleasure. 
Paul had only gotten harsher, the space was mainly filled with the moist sounds of Paul penetrating you, the viscosity you two had produced felt mouthwatering.
"Ya like it when I go faster don't ya? Tell Paulie you like it when he goes faster." He uttered. 
His strokes were paired with that voice off his and as he arrived close, he all but cooed, "Like tha' Y/N? Like tha' baby?"
You turned your head back at him for a moment, he greeted you with a cocky, yet lovely smile. His hair was all messy and he was flushed with colour. 
You could feel him precisely hitting and caring for every nerve inside of you, with his hands tugging on your hips and his pelvis meeting your ass.
And as much as you rasped out John's name, you couldn't help but pull him out of your mouth, only subtly, just to stammer out Paul's. 
You felt an exhilaration coming from all senses. John let out a definitive moan, finally releasing into the back of your throat. The consistency made you feel naughty, you spat some back out only to lick it off his cock again, the slight overstimulation drove him mad, "Shit- fuck...Y/N...slag..." 
Almost on command, Paul did the same. You felt his cum shooting into you, a liquid bullet. He moved in slightly, shoving his semen to the innermost part of you, moaning yeahs and ooos. 
He trembled as you clenched around him. 
 ~
Paul changed positions off of you and so did John. You all looked like orgasmic chaos. 
You felt hit with weakness after that, you signalled to them that maybe it was time to rest. 
~
You were in between them. Paul spooned you, seemingly falling asleep the fastest, probably because he smoked the most. 
John was facing you, muttering sweet whatevers and giving you smooches along your chest. 
It's as if your souls intertwined with one another as you all simultaneously climaxed, you pondered. 
"I love you." You whispered to no one specifically.
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paddingtondos · 6 months
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I will fully cop to the fact that Undead Unluck is like basically a melting pot of shit that is quintessentially me-core, and that 100% colors my view of it. However, on the other hand, I don't care, this shit is still fucking complete fuego top to bottom.
Like, i get that the humor at the start is very unsavory and hard to swallow for some people, and I don't hold that against them. But the way it pays off on the initial rocky relationship between Andy and Fuuko is 10000000000000000000000000000% worth the price of admission.
And like, the character designs coupled with the art scratch a fucking primal itch in my brain. I could *look* at Undead Unluck forever. It's such a goddamn FUN style, and it's matched by a strong grasp on slick, readable page layouts. Not to mention the way the series is constantly moving its setting. In the first, like, thirty chapters alone, they go to Japan, Russia, The USA, Brazil, Australia, etc. I'm such a sucker for globe trotting.
The cast is very visually diverse. They all look cool, and so it's appealing to me on that level, but you can also just TELL that Tosuka adores his OCs. Like, fucking Void Volks, the basically nameless and faceless redshirt from volume 1? Yeah he's a core member of the cast now. Gina? The woman who died in volume 2 to advance Fuuko's plot? No she gets her happy ending actually and she gets to actually be friends with Fuuko. Like you want to talk about side cast utilization, this series should be setting a new fucking gold standard in WSJ as far as im concerned, One Piece notwithstanding.
And the worldbuilding. God, the worldbuilding. I'm a sucker for SCP/Magnus Archives-esque shit on a subatomic level and UDUL doesn't disappoint at all.
God, and how the powersystem is intrinsically tied to the worldbuilding on such a goddamn fundamental level, and how basically every superpower in the series has a purpose outside of combat, and just god shit fuck it's so fucking god damn good and I just wish I could like fucking bottle up the feelings that I feel about this series as an Imbibable Liquid and have you all drink it to actually understand how much I love this series because I genuinely feel that a) I will never be able to *fully* articulate why I love this series and b) I also totally understand why someone would think I'm a fuckin maniac for just how strong my feelings about it are. Like it's probably the epitome of like, "That Pretty Good thing that is just randomly a masterpiece to one specific person on the planet." But I happen to be that one specific person, and to me, Undead Unluck is That Pretty Good Thing.
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