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eetherealgoddess · 3 days

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Can you make a fem reader whose is a martial artist with a yan bonten but she doesn’t let them get her easily

ik it's been a while y'all but don't worry bc i will be getting through your requests!!

idk much about martial arts so I’m just gonna do my best with the fighting scene. hope you enjoy!

also, why am i more inclined to write when i’m high 😩

ꨄFight For Your Lifeꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦You’ve been on the run from your childhood friends❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Fight For Your Life

The platforms of your shoes slap against the wet concrete, puddles of water splashing as you ignore the rain falling on your skin. Your bloody clothes hugging against your body uncomfortably as the street lights glow amongst the dark sky, the empty buildings sitting under as you run past with squinted eyes. Your lips are apart as you take in quick breaths, though you tried to keep the panting steady. The adrenaline running through your veins made it easier to ignore the goosebumps caused by the cold air hitting your dermis and the red liquid running down your nose.

You didn’t know how long it had been since you ran from your totaled car. It was amazing how you slipped away, not expecting the driver of the car to have died on impact. You knew exactly who sent the sheep, snarling as you remember the men you couldn’t seem to escape for long. Although you made it far enough to stay in a motel a great distance away from Japan, you still had a long way to go.

I’m so tired of this shit.

It’s frustrating having to travel from place to place, continuously spending a limited amount of money just to be free from the grasp of the yakuza. If you would’ve known that you would be abducted as an adult by your childhood friends who disappeared without any warning, you wouldn’t have become close to them in the first place. To have been so devoted to them and the rest of the gang, only for them to abandon you and reappear without warning, snatching you up and treating you as property rather than a person, murdering most of your loved ones without a care of how that could affect you. Not only is the situation painful but demeaning. How could they treat you like that? No explanation for the disappearance nor the behavior, not that you needed it. Who they are now explains everything you need to know.

Ignoring the tightness of your chest became harder as you slowed your pace, halting your movements before bending over, hands on your knees. You gripped the fabric of your pants as your eyes closed, head dropping as you struggled to steady your breathing. Your tears of frustration mix with the droplets of rain, finally lifting your body and rubbing your sleeve against your eyes, only for the moisture to return.

Your eyes widen as bright lights flash behind you before you swiftly turn your body to face the car speeding toward you. The loud engine roars as the vehicle darts down the hill through the fog. You search around your surroundings for a good hiding spot amongst the empty stores. You huff before running behind a structure closest to you. You find a dumpster, cursing as you open it and climb in, ignoring your discomfort for bacteria as you cover your nose and close yourself into the darkness, praying to not feel anything crawling on you as you rub your face with both hands, smearing the blood from your nose.

You breathe in through your nose and release from your mouth, ignoring the overwhelming stench as you listen for anyone close. The pouring rain made it difficult to hear any footsteps if someone were to walk near. You closed your eyes as you pant into your cupped hands quietly. You patiently stay in your spot for what feels like a while, planning to hide in the dumpster all night long if you have to. The phone you bought when you ran from Bonten was lost in the wreck, hidden behind the broken machinery and shattered glass so you had no way to contact anyone to help, not that you knew anyone. You also didn’t know if the police would help you anyway considering Bonten has some of them wrapped around their fingers.

The top of the dumpster is snatched open, rain pouring as the sound of your screaming covers the droplets landing on the full sacks of trash. You struggle against the hold on your wrist as you’re yanked out of the hiding place, feet meeting the ground.

“The more you struggle the harder this will be for you!” The man growled, attempting to hold you in place. When he pulls you toward him with his grip tightening, you straighten your posture before pulling your head back and slamming it against his forehead causing him to release you as he grabs his head in pain. Running on nothing but adrenaline, you dash away from the man as you ignore the throbbing ache of your head, only to run in the direction of two more men speeding towards you.

“Shit!” You hiss before turning back around.

“Get her idiot or it’ll be our asses!” One of the men exclaimed on his way toward you as he faced the original male whose face is still scrunched in pain.

Just as you were about to pass the man who attacked you, he reached for you in which you dodged before continuing to make your escape. Before you could succeed, you are snatched by the collar of your top and yanked back. You gasp as you feel the sting from the sudden pressure on your neck, though your shock doesn’t last long.

“Gotcha you bit-!” He grunts and bends over, releasing you in the process when you elbow his stomach with as much strength as you could muster, so much so you release your own throated shriek. Before you could run the next man comes forth, pulling his arm back before landing a punch on your cheek. Your face hangs to the side in reflex as your palm immediately meets your cheek, eyes wide as you wince in pain.

Before he could make another move, you use your fist to back hand the man’s face before landing a punch on his cheek with the same arm, his body wobbling back as he tries to keep balance. You shove him just as the third male comes to ambush you from the side, both of you landing painfully on the ground with you at the bottom. The puddle of water mixed with dirt and grime splashes as you thrash in his hold as he grasps your wrists and forces them next to your head, squeezing as you howl in agony.

Seeing an opening all the while your face is scrunched with fresh blood oozing down your cheek, you take the opportunity to knee the man’s midsection. His eyes widen as his grip loosens, mouth hanging open with a silent scream. You make eye contact before shoving him off of you. Before you can pick yourself up, the original man places the platform of his shoe on your stomach before pressing down hard. Your nails claw at his covered ankles as he glares down at you with a smirk.

“Oh? What is this?” You watch as the color drains from the man’s face. Your own eyes widen at the realization that you had just been caught.

Your head slowly turns to the side, your own eyes meeting two pairs of purple orbs. A certain mullet haired man tsked as he stood in place, flicking the cigarette butt from his fingers before lifting the black gun held by his other hand. A blaring shot echoed in the air, your eyelids met just in time before the red liquid could splatter in your eyes.

As a result, a weight was lifted off of your stomach as you opened your eyes, watching as the other two men had an expression of bewilderment, freezing in their spots as they watched the bloody corpse drop to the ground, pieces of the brain and skull lying all around the wet ground. You stare at the situation with wide eyes as you slowly sit up, leaning on your trembling arms as you watch both males take a step back with their hands in surrender.

“Come on boys, don’t cower on us now.” The tall man says, running his fingers through his short streaked hair, a sly smile on his face as his other hand holds the black umbrella both him and his brother stood under.

“Pathetic.” Rin states before he turns on his heel, slowly walking away from the scene, Ran follows alongside. They don’t give you another glance.

Escaping your trance, you went to jump up, only for your arms to be grabbed by the two men. You thrash as your feet lifts from the ground, your biceps slightly sliding against their wet hands as the rain continues pouring. You didn’t stop your struggle even when nearing the familiar black suv that caused your heart beat to accelerate. Sweat mixed with the droplets sliding against your forehead as the pressure in your chest became more prominent the closer you got to your entrapment. You pull your arms with all your might against the growling males’ holds, attempting to use your feet to kick them, only for them to dodge and grips tighten.

“Don’t do this.” You plead, bargaining for your freedom.

“We got no choice, lady.” The guy on your left responded.

“You have to have a wife or daughter or something, guys! Please!” Your eyes burn with moisture caused by frustration, your eyebrows furrow as you glance between the men who hold you.

“Shut up!” The guy on your right hissed. “We’re doing this to keep them safe. Your well being is worth nothing to us so just accept your fate.”

Your head hangs low as you’re dragged to the car, the tinted window rolling down as a blur of white reaches your peripheral, right before the men holding you halt in front of the vehicle. You hear footsteps before a tight grip reaches your chin, forcing you to meet golden eyes that seem to glow through the rainy night. A blonde strand hanging on the left side of his face, the rest of his black locks pulled back in a messy ponytail. His empty orbs bore into you as you seem to internally cower from the strange expression.

Your discomfort increases as time goes on, the sound of the rain hitting the pavement masking the silence as you continue to hold eye contact. The corners of his lips curve upward before you can comprehend his next move. The tight grip released on your left arm before you hear a thud against the ground. Your eyes widened as you eye the injured male, turning your gaze back to the man who gives a sheepish smile, rubbing his bruised knuckles as he chuckled.

“You really know how to make a guy angry, Y/n.” He scratched the back of his neck before looking to the side as his smile dropped. “Running off like that wasn’t cool.”

You scoff before shaking your head angrily. You couldn’t believe his deflecting. They treat you like a pet. It’s degrading and abusive. The lack of respect as close as they were before is disgusting. Before you could respond, the cocking of a gun snatched your attention away from the tiger tattooed male in front of you and towards a certain pink haired man who now stood outside of the car. The barrel of his gun aimed right at your torso, your body tightening as you lose your breath.

His scars stretch as he snarls shifting his aim quickly before pulling the trigger. A loud shot rings out, echoing throughout the empty street. Your breathing slows down as the pounding of your heart is the only sound you can hear, followed by a ringing in your ears as the final grip releases you to the ground. The water pellets fall on your face as you feel pressure on your front as you stare at the sky, a warm liquid forming under your torso as your lips hang slightly apart.

You barely hear the car doors opening as your hearing goes in and out, five figures hovering over you as they observe your figure. Crouching down closest to your face, the platinum haired male who gives you an expression of emptiness uses a hand to caress the left side of your face, thumb tracing your temple. He leans over, his warm breath connecting with your ear.

“If you won’t let me have you, death will.”

As your hearing comes back and vision clears you watch as the men with solemn gazes turn and leave your vicinity. Mikey pulls back before picking himself up and following his men. You listen as you hear footsteps fade and the car doors open and close. The engine roars before they speed away, leaving you on the wet street.

You were in slight shock considering you couldn’t believe you had just been shot. You knew they were capable of it but the thought of yourself being murdered is unsettling. You stay on the ground for a moment, relieving yourself of the panic attack you just had before you slowly sit up and eye your surroundings. Seeing nobody in the area, you look down and pull your shirt up, grabbing the busted sack that once held fake blood from your cushioned vest. Staring at the sack you took a deep breath before releasing.

This is perfect because now they think I’m dead.

Although you were surprised about the gunshot, you wore a bulletproof vest, along with the fake blood sacks since you had escaped because you knew that there was a chance you might die trying to leave them. Your hands couldn’t help the trembling as you eyed the bloody puddle under you. Seeming to escape the trance, you hopped up from your seat and began to walk in the opposite direction from where you came.

The car’s atmosphere was thick with tension and grief. Although all the men held the same stoic and zoned out expression, their emotions were going haywire with their decision to kill you. Do they regret it? No. They don’t regret it as your punishment nor as a blockage for you to be able to move on without them. Do they wish you had just listened so it wouldn’t come to this? Indeed. Kazutora wipes the stray tear as his head turns to the side, eyebrows furrowed as he leans back in his seat with crossed arms and a crossed leg. Sanzu slowly cleans the gun used to take your life, wiping in slow yet rough strokes, all the while trying to focus on everything but the memory of your body landing on the ground. Now that his anger was gone, he lacked the adrenaline he had originally.

The Haitani brothers sit next to each other in the back of the black suv, Ran smoking a cigar with a tired expression as well as Rin removing a flask from his suit’s jacket and throwing his head back for a good sip. Mikey sat in the passenger’s seat, eyeing through the windshield with nothing but an empty void filling the inside of his chest. He feels nothing and everything at the same time. You used to be so close to all of them. It was a shame but he knew that he couldn’t allow you to live without him. You chose this. This is your fault.

A sudden ringing interrupts everyone as Mikey grabs the phone and hands it to Kakucho who uses one hand to direct the wheel.

“Hello?”

“You what?!”

Everyone’s eyebrows furrow at his reaction. He lowers the phone before handing it to Mikey with a concerned expression. Mikey sets the phone on his ear as he listens to the other person.

“Boss, her body is gone. She’s nowhere to be found.” Kokonoi says as he crouches down to get a closer look at the busted sack. Using a gloved hand to pick it up before it hangs from his fingers and the remaining liquid leaks.

“I have a feeling she faked her death and has escaped.”

Mikey stares ahead with a more focused expression, his eyes slightly wider than usual as he narrows his gaze.

“Find her, now.”

You eye the two lines with wide eyes. Your hands tremble as your fingers barely hold up the test.

“I-I’m pregnant?!” You hiss. You hop from the toilet and slam open the stall door, tossing it into the trash before walking to the sink and recollecting your memory as you try to search for how this could’ve happened because you genuinely had no remembrance of any sexual encounter in the last few months.

“I-I can’t feel…” The tingling in your limbs causes them to limp as you attempt to move your body around, though hands around your wrists prevent you from budging. Legs sit in between yours as the person on top of you leans over to your ear.

“How much of a dosage did you give her this time, Sanzu?” Kazutora asks before he licks a slow trail from your neck to your ear. You squirm under him as you try to find an escape before your body slightly shuts down and you become still as your eyes become heavier.

“G-guys…” You whisper, trying to come back to reality as you feel him adjust on top of you. Your mouth hangs open in a silent grunt as you feel a firm pressure enter your vagina.

“Enough.” The blue eyed male responds while rubbing his thumb along your forehead, taking in your scrunched nosed expression as Kazutora slowly thrusts into you.

“Fuck.” He whispers as he pressed his cock against your cervix, holding it there as his hands snake to the back of your head and neck, squeezing before he pulls his hips back to repeat the same process.

You shut your eyes tight as the girth stretches you, a stinging sensation surrounding your core before your pussy engulfs his cock perfectly. The pain switched to a conflicting pleasure that your own drugged body couldn’t handle. Your head falls back as Sanzu leans over and pulls you into a heated kiss, while Kazutora holds you tightly, his head on the other side of your neck as he accelerates his pace, hips rocking in a steady rhythm purposefully aiming deep against your g-spot.

Ran watched the display to the side with his brother, enjoying the show as they patiently waited for their turn with Bonten’s signature doll. He man - spreads while sitting with his arms resting against the top of the sofa, one arm slightly behind Rin who has his arms crossed. Both brothers ignore their erections as their pants become tighter, listening to the sounds you make as well as the juices colliding.

Mikey sits in a chair, similar to a throne next to the sofa, eyeing the session with his legs spread, leaning over to where his arms rest on his legs. From this angle, you both make eye contact when Sanzu pulls back.

“P-please stop!” You whine out as tears fall, hoping for Mikey to take control of the situation. Unfortunately, the only response you get are Sanzu’s thumbs smearing your tears and groaning from Kazutora in your ear.

Suddenly, he stops his thrusting and pulls back. He sets your legs on his shoulders as he looks down at you with a glazed over expression, red covering his face along with sweat as he repositions himself before leaning over your thighs and thrusting hard. His pace accelerates once more as he brings you both closer to your release. His forehead rests on yours as he thrusts his hips rhythmically against you. His cock slides in and nearly out of your walls as the head kisses your g-spot repeatedly.

“You're taking his cock so well, sweet girl.” The pink haired male whispers against your ear before nibbling the lobe, his hand sliding on your chest towards your neck before circling his fingers around the surface and slightly squeezing. The stimulation becomes too much, the sensation overwhelming as it mixes with the effects of the drug. Your hips meet his deep thrusts as you cry out.

“So. *thrust* Fucking. *thrust* Good, baby.” Kazutora’s raspy soft spoken words meet your ear as his eyes bore into yours. Biting his lip, he watches as your hands meet his chest as his grip tightens on your legs, along with the thrusts forcing you into having a violent orgasm along with sending him into his own as he moans out your name and his hips move sloppily, riding out both of your orgasms as sweat drips from your skin.

Your hand shakily reached your mouth as you recall when they would drug you up and proceed with sexual acts against your will. You have no clue which of them would even be the father. You knew you had to figure something out but you just didn’t know what. You quickly leave the public restroom and ask to use the cashier’s phone. Once you dial the number, you set it to your ear.

“Draken? C-can you please help me?”

“Ugh, girl come here!” You sigh as you eye the mess left from the little devil.

“What is this?” You question your child, eyeing her golden eyes as you point at the red paint that spilled all over your carpet.

“U-uh, I don’t know mama.” The eight year old responds with a cheeky smile. You shake your head, irritated because of the mess but you breathe out a sigh considering the paint is washable and will be able to be cleaned.

“Yeah, okay. You’re gonna help me clean this up.” You shake your head as your daughter nods. You chuckle to yourself before stating, “And don’t try to lie to me anymore, I can see right through you.”

Your daughter shrugs before leaving to grab some of the supplies. You couldn’t believe how much she grew to look like Kazutora. It was haunting and hard to deal with at times but she had nothing to do with it so the love for your child was enough distraction from how she was created. Before you could follow and help her, you heard a knock on your door. Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting anyone to have appeared so you ignore it.

Once the knocks stop, the ringing of your phone catches your attention. You snatch the device from your pocket and lift it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say to the unknown number.

“You have something of mine, and I’ve come to get it.” Before you could react, your windows were shattered as you crouched down and covered yourself. Immediately going into action, you run to the storage closet in the hallway to grab your child.

“Mama?” She cries out in surprise at the commotion.

“We have to go now!” You snatched her with one hand and pressed a contact with another.

“D-Draken! They broke i-!” Before you could finish, the phone was knocked out of your hand and you were forced to the ground, releasing your child in the process as she’s snatched by a person you hadn’t wanted to see.

“Awe, you really do have my eyes.” Kazutora says warmly with a smile as he holds your child in his arms, the poor girl crying in confusion and fear.

You're cuffed before you’re forced to stand up and face five of the men you never wanted to see.

“M-Mikey, please! She needs me! Don’t t-take her from me!” You yell in hopelessness, the tears falling uncontrollably as you watch Kazutora caress your daughter’s hair. The leader only stares down at you before turning on his heel and walking away, motioning for the other men to snatch you and follow.

“Wow, Y/n. You know, you really had us fooled.” Rin says as he grabs one arm. Ran stands on the other side and mimics his brother’s hold on the opposite arm.

“It’s silly really. We knew only an hour after you escaped and followed you up until this point.”

“You should be thanking the king for not killing you on the spot.” Sanzu growls with his head turned slightly back to make eye contact with you.

“On the bright side we can all be a family, now.” Kazutora beamed.

Truth be told though they would never say it out loud, they were all thankful that you hadn’t actually died. They found it humorous that you thought you could escape their radar at all. Now having been caught, you could only stare ahead, in hopes that if you comply, you could possibly come up with a plan to safely take your child and completely leave your past behind.

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strangersmunsons · 2 days

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read 'em and weep #5

you're acting weird. Eddie decides to do something about it.

Chapter 5 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 4 -> Here!

Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, mix of fluff & angst, romantic gestures, idiots in love, communication breakthrough, shy babies working out some kinks. No mention of reader's appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: Discussion of Eddie's past, mentions of poverty, drug use, allusion to violence. Mentions of food & eating. Word Count: 4.5k sometimes I think I make him too soft in this series, but I can't help myself. are you guys tired of lovesick!eddie yet???

Eddie wakes up late on Sunday — it’s well after noon when he rises from bed with a sticky yawn in his throat and sleep in his eyes. In his rumpled t-shirt and boxers, hair a tangled mess, he pads down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Wayne is dropping scoops of pancake batter into a sizzling pan on the stove.

“Mornin’, Ed.”

“G’morning,” Eddie grunts back. He plops into one of the seats at the tiny table, rubbing his eyes.

“Sleep okay?”

“Like a rock.”

Wayne nods approvingly. “Figured as much. I could hear ya from the living room.”

Eddie scrunches his face in annoyance. “You could not.”

His uncle smiles, mirth buried in his whiskers.

“Well, you deserve a good night’s sleep. You’re always out and about these days.”

Wayne flips the last pancake, lets it cook, then adds it to the stack he’s already piled up. He sets the plate of cakes and two cups of coffee onto the table, and takes a seat across from his nephew.

They begin to eat in silence. That’s not unusual, as Eddie has a tendency to inhale his food — the boy’s got a garbage disposal for a stomach — but he’s not scarfing it down the way he normally does. Instead, he pushes his breakfast around his plate in between taking small bites, looking moody.

Wayne pauses in between sips of coffee, #1 Uncle mug hovering halfway to his lips.

“Everything okay?”

“Uh…I think so. Yeah.”

Wayne raises an eyebrow skeptically at him. “You sound like you’re not sure.”

Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat, frowning at his pancakes.

He doesn’t want to push, lest Eddie shut him down completely, but Wayne’s curious. Sue him.

“Somethin’ happen with your girl last night?”

Eddie blushes and sits back in his seat, voice pained. “Wayne —”

“We don’t have to get all touchy-feely. It’s just a question,” he tells him sternly. “And believe it or not, kiddo, I have known a woman or two in my lifetime. I can give you advice if you need it, y’know. I’m not a eunuch.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Gross, man.”

Wayne laughs, a gruff chuckle that reverberates around the small kitchen. Eddie smiles in spite of himself.

“So what’s the problem?”

Eddie drums a nervous rhythm against the table with his fingers, naked without their bulky rings. “I don’t know, really. She was just kinda weird yesterday.” He pauses for a moment, searching for the right word. “Distant.”

Wayne listens intently, fist tucked under his chin. “Distant how?”

Eddie fills his cheeks with air, and lets it out in a long, slow exhale. “Well, she was fine in the morning, but last night she was really quiet. Especially when we were alone, which I don’t understand.” If you’d been nervous to spend time with his friends, then he’d get it, but you seemed fine at Benny’s. It was before and after, when you were by yourselves, which strikes him as odd.

He gestures helplessly with his hands, words flowing faster now, confusion leaking into every syllable. “She’s usually really excited when she sees me. All happy and stuff, y’know? And we always talk a lot, but she hardly said a word to me. And at first I thought she just had a tough day at work, but then —” Eddie stops abruptly, clamping his mouth shut. I didn’t get hardly any kisses, he finishes miserably in his head.

Rather than verbalize the thought for Wayne, he just throws his arms up, letting his flailing limbs speak for themselves.

Wayne gives him a solemn nod, determined to keep his expression neutral. If he reacts too strongly either way, then Eddie might not feel so inclined to discuss his love life with him again. Ever the sensible one, he asks, “Did she have a tough day at work?”

Eddie looks sheepish. “That’s what she said,” he admits reluctantly.

“But you don’t believe her?”

Eddie’s bottom lip juts out petulantly. “It just didn’t feel like she wanted to be around me.” His face falls, and his voice becomes softer, the hurt more pronounced. “Like she couldn’t wait to get away.”

Wayne heaves a sigh, and thinks it over. “Personally, I think you’re readin’ too much into it,” he finally responds. “If she tells you she had a hard day, then she probably did.” He rubs his stubbly chin thoughtfully. “Although, you might be onto something there….”

Eddie’s face crinkles in despair, mouth falling open.

“Now, hang on,” Wayne adds hastily, seeing his kicked-puppy look. “I just mean to say, that you’ve been spendin’ an awful lot of time together, right? And you haven’t really known each other that long, but you’ve hardly gone a day this summer without seeing her. Maybe she’s runnin’ out of things to say to you,” he jokes.

Eddie clicks his tongue in distaste. “C’mon,” he complains.

“She might just need a little space, is all I’m sayin’.” The older man shrugs. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you, or that she doesn’t wanna be around you. Just give her some breathing room. And then, in a few days, if you still feel like things are off, talk to her about it.”

Eddie squints at him. “Can I just do that?”

Wayne shakes his head in disbelief. “Boy, I swear,” he mumbles.

After breakfast, Eddie mulls over what his uncle told him. Now, he’s the first to admit that he doesn’t really know how to be a boyfriend, but goddamn it, he’s trying.

Is that his problem? Is he trying too hard?

Okay, fine, he’s a bit of a smother. But it’s difficult for him not to be; he’s spent far too long navigating life in this thankless town alone. Now that he’s finally found you, he can scarcely bring himself to let go, even for a second.

“Breathing room,” he mutters to himself. Fine. No biggie. He can deal with that.

For the next few days, Eddie resists the temptation to call you first, or visit you unannounced at work, which is a task that would be much easier to accomplish if you were giving him literally anything in return.

But you haven’t called. Not for an evening chat, which was customary on days he didn’t stop by the library. Not to check up on him, not to find out where he’s been, or why he hasn’t visited…it’s like nothing is out of the ordinary.

Evidently, you’re not missing him at all.

The phone has only rung twice so far this week. Once it was Henderson, and the other one was a telemarketer that he promptly hung up on. His ego took a huge hit every time he came home and asked, “Any calls for me?” and had to see Wayne shake his head no.

Disappointed, and overwhelmed by a creeping sense of dread, Eddie concludes that your radio silence could mean one of two things: either you just don’t feel the need to be around him as much as he does you, or he did something to upset you.

He can’t figure out which is worse. The internal debate plagues him morning and night as the days keep rolling by.

Up until now, you haven’t seemed to mind his clinginess. If anything you were nearly always overjoyed to see him — so much so that it startled him, and he often found himself looking back over his shoulder, to see if there was someone else standing behind him that you were smiling at instead. Has the novelty of Eddie Munson worn off so quickly? It didn’t seem like you, so kind and attentive towards him, but who was he to expect you to want to be with him twenty-four/seven?

Unless it was something else entirely, something he had done that didn’t sit right with you, that was causing this. He tries to think of what he could possibly said or did that may have offended you, but he keeps coming up empty.

And then, in the midst of his warring thoughts, inspiration strikes.

“Uhhh…hey, Wayne?”

Wayne calls back from his spot on the couch, where he’s immersed in the latest episode of The Joy of Painting. “Yeah?”

Eddie shuffles into the living room, lips pursed. He tries to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. “Would it be…ill-advised…to show up unannounced at her house with a grand romantic gesture?”

Wayne stares at him. “You know I said space, right?”

Eddie starts packing up a brown paper grocery bag with everything he thinks he’ll need, while Wayne hovers in the kitchen, watching him with his arms crossed. He’s simultaneously disapproving and amused.

“So you’re just gonna ignore my advice, huh?”

“Wayne,” Eddie sighs, “I appreciate your sage words of wisdom, I really do. But unfortunately, I am not a patient man. I need resolution now, or else I’ll die.” He pulls out another snack from a cupboard and stows it away in the bag, alongside the sandwiches he made and some other morsels scrounged up from the kitchen. He’ll get your favorite drink, too, when he stops for flowers at the gas station —

“You? Impatient? Naw.”

“Ha, ha,” Eddie replies sarcastically.

Wayne shakes his head. “I sure hope this works out for you.”

Eddie hesitates. “I mean….” Suddenly insecure, he looks over at Wayne, anguished expression on his face. “Is it a completely horrible idea?”

Wayne softens immediately, and silently curses himself for discouraging him. “No. No, I don’t mean that. I’m actually…well, I’m mighty proud to see you treatin’ a lady so well.” Eddie turns scarlet, grimacing at the praise, and Wayne continues. “I’m just worried you might overwhelm her, with…how well you’re treatin’ her.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his hair. “I just…don’t like the way things feel right now. And I don’t wanna make the mistake of ignoring it, hoping it’ll go away, and have things get worse.”

There’s a pang in Wayne’s heart. He really is a good kid, isn’t he? “Aw, hell, Ed. If this feels like it’s the right thing for you to do, then I say do it.”

When Eddie finally arrives at your house, the nerves have really kicked in. He understands that this is kind of a gamble, but subtlety has never been his forte. Slinging his acoustic guitar over his back, clutching the grocery bag in one fist and a small bouquet of dyed carnations in the other, he manages to rap lightly on the front door without dropping anything.

Eddie holds his breath as the seconds tick by, heart thumping in his chest.

Finally, the door swings open slowly, revealing your figure and Eddie immediately feels warm, in spite of the cool air that seeps out from the house. You look startled to see him, even more so when your eyes drop down to the flowers in his hand, mouth popping open in surprise.

“Hi,” he greets you nervously. “Uh, I hope it’s okay that I’m here, I-I know I didn’t call you or anything first. But, um, it’s a nice day out, so I thought we could have a picnic?” It comes out like a question. He jostles the grocery bag, and you can hear the contents shift around inside. “If you’re not busy or anything. And these, um, are for you.” He thrusts the flowers forward, palm sweating against their plastic wrapping.

You stand there in silence, not saying or taking anything, just gaping at him. Eddie’s stomach drops. And he’s totally unprepared for what happens next.

Your face crumples, and you burst into tears.

“Oh, Jesus.” Eddie sets everything down onto the ground and lurches forward, arms outstretched to touch you, but he hesitates before making contact, his hands fluttering around your figure uncertainly. “I — sweetheart — what?” he stutters, entirely out of his element.

“Sorry!” you sob, clapping your hands over your mouth. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize,” he says automatically, completely bewildered. His hands finally come down to rest on your shoulders, and he leans closer to you, like maybe proximity will cure whatever this is. “Is something wrong?” He winces, and shakes his head. “Sorry, that’s stupid — what’s wrong?”

You sniffle in response, fat tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.

Watching you tremble with emotion breaks his heart, and it’s stronger than his panic at being unexpectedly confronted by a crying woman. “Oh, baby,” he says tenderly, wrapping his arms around you fully and pulling you in close. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” you repeat in a watery voice, slightly muffled by you pressing your face into his shirt. “You’re just…you’re so sweet, Eddie. That’s all.”

“You don’t have to say sorry for crying,” he says, chuckling breathlessly. “Although I was kind of aiming for a smile with all this, not tears.” He pats your back gently, and moves his lips to your ear. “It’s been a while. I was missing you.”

You shudder. “I missed you, too.” You let out a choked laugh, and pull back a little, dabbing at your eyes. You audibly try and swallow the lump in your throat. “This isn’t how I usually greet company, I promise.”

In the small, sunny backyard, Eddie lays out a faded gingham tablecloth onto the grass. It’s tattered at the edges and bears quite a number of stubborn stains, maybe not great for their tiny kitchen anymore, but perfect for an outdoor blanket. While he sets up his little surprise date, doling out food and plates and napkins, he steals glances at you, visible through the kitchen window, where you’re arranging your new flowers in a vase. When you come back outside to join him, he doesn’t miss the way you swipe at your eye one last time, trying to rid yourself of the final remnants of your outburst.

He offers you a soft smile, and pats the spot on the ground next to him.

You sink onto the blanket with a sigh, looking tired but pleased to see him nonetheless. And there’s a trace of something else in your eyes, some unknown emotion that he can’t quite put his finger on. You reach gingerly for the sandwich he packed for you — your favorite, you note right away — but Eddie simply watches, wondering if he has to ask or if he should wait for you to explain.

“So, how’re things?” you ask innocently, and take a small bite.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, but he keeps his tone light. “Well, I’m a little concerned, naturally. We gonna talk about what just happened back there?”

You chew slowly, stalling. He waits patiently.

“I wasn’t expecting all this,” you finally say, gesturing around at the spread before you. “It’s…it’s really, really nice of you,” your voice breaks again on the last word, but if you’re threatened by another wave of tears, you don’t succumb.

Eddie shrugs modestly, but remains curious. “It’s no big thing. Just wanted to surprise you,” he says, and hesitates before continuing. “I, uh, haven’t heard from you in a while, so I wasn’t sure if…maybe you were upset with me, or something, I dunno. Like, if I did something wrong.”

Abruptly, you fix your gaze on your lap, but not before Eddie sees them widen in alarm.

He peers closer at you. “Were you upset with me?��

Your blanche. “God, I’m such an asshole,” you mumble, throat tightening again.

Eddie’s thoroughly confused now, and he chuckles uncertainly. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m a little lost here. Why are you calling yourself an asshole?” The idea is absurd; it’s hard for him to even fathom.

You wring your hands nervously, unable to make yourself look at him. “Eddie, I — I’m sorry. That I haven’t been reaching out to you lately.” You struggle with what to say, feeling ashamed, but you force yourself to continue. “But…Marissa — from work, y’know? — she…she told me some stuff about you.”

Eddie’s insides turn to ice.

“Stupid, gossipy stuff,” the words come out in a rush now, like you’re desperate to get the truth out and over with, “most of which I didn’t even really believe, anyway, but I guess I couldn’t help feeling…anxious, after it happened? And I didn’t know how to talk to you about it, so I just…didn’t. I’m so sorry.” You take a deep breath and shake your head, frustrated at your own actions. “And then you come here today with an entire picnic, and flowers, and your guitar, and I feel like the biggest jerk on the planet. I can’t believe myself.”

Eddie falls silent for a moment, his dark eyes big and sad. It’s not what he was expecting, though he supposes he should have been anticipating something like this happening eventually. Gossip about him had improved — or affected him less, at least — when he finished school, but there were still whispers about him amongst the townies, he knew.

“What did she tell you?” he asks dully. “That I’m the spawn of Satan?”

A knot twists in your stomach. “Something like that. Of course I know that’s bullshit.”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. “Oh, yeah? What did she tell you that was so impressive, then?” When you flinch at his words, he cringes inwardly at his own snarkiness, and reminds himself who he’s talking to.

You scratch at a dark spot on the blanket, fidgeting under his stare. “She — she said that you were involved with someone named Chrissy, and the way she mentioned it really freaked me out.”

Upon hearing her name, Eddie’s eyes bulge with panic. Oh shit, oh shit. Low blow from Marissa. Because unlike the far-fetched devil worship accusations, there’s some substance to that rumor, no matter how convoluted the truth became. He starts to mentally scramble for a way to explain, but you continue on before he can speak.

“I guess I just couldn’t stand the thought of you having another girlfriend,” you admit guiltily. “I didn’t wanna find out, because I didn’t think I could take it, if I knew you were seeing someone else.”

That catches him off guard. “Oh, you —” Eddie fumbles with his words, “you thought that I was…dating her?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. When someone tells you ‘ask him about so-and-so’ in that kind of tone, that’s generally what comes to mind.”

Eddie blinks, then groans, and flings himself back on the blanket. He drapes one arm over his eyes, hiding the world from view. He heaves a great sigh. “Nothing like that ever happened between Chrissy and I,” he says quietly. “Never dated, never hooked up. Never even so much as kissed.”

“Oh.” You process this, wondering at her significance. “Who is she, then?”

“Just a girl in town,” he mutters. “We went to high school together.” He sighs resignedly again, and pulls his arm up, just enough so he can peek at you. “Listen, Wayne and I, we don’t have a whole lot to our names. In case that wasn’t obvious.” He snorts humorlessly. “I…used to deal, for a bit of extra cash. Help out with the rent and stuff. Did Marissa tell you that, too?”

“She did,” you affirm. “But Eddie, I don’t care about that either, I swear.”

He moves on without acknowledging your remark. “Chrissy was a cheerleader. Queen of Hawkins High, basically. And she was looking to buy one day, so we met up after school. I was just gonna sell her some pot, but she asked me if I had anything, ah, stronger.” He wets his lips with his tongue. “I didn’t usually sell harder shit to other students, but I had some Special K laying around, for my own…personal use.” He doesn’t dare look up again to see your reaction to this tidbit. “And I sold it to her…and then she disappeared.”

You stare at him. “She…disappeared?”

Eddie sits back up and nods, face hardening. “For a few days, anyway. Ran away. Her family’s got a good name, and a lot of money, but that doesn’t always make for a good home life, y’know? I don’t know what was going on with her, exactly, but she wasn’t okay. And when she skipped town, everyone pointed their fingers at me.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate; the implication is clear. Still, you ask, “What, they thought that you…did something to her?”

“Yeah,” he deadpans, staring off into the distance. “All but brought out the pitchforks and torches.”

Indignance on his behalf hits you like a truck. “Teenagers run away all the time!”

Eddie rubs his face in distress. “Yeah, they do, but when Hawkins’ golden girl is last seen entering the town freak’s trailer to buy ketamine, people tend to jump to conclusions.”

A wave of sadness washes over you, as you try to picture it in your head: they truly believed that sweet, doting Eddie was capable of hurting a young girl like that?

Eddie, who played fantasy games with kids six years his junior simply because they asked him to, and fed the strays in the trailer park, and spent many a Sunday making banana bread with his uncle? Who he chose to live with instead of moving out, because he loved him and wanted to be close in case he needed him? Was it even possible, for people to be so blind?

The very thought of it makes you sick. “That’s horrible….”

“S’okay,” he mumbles. “She came back home eventually. A little worse for wear, I heard, but she was fine. Told everyone that I had nothing to do with her leaving, or whatever happened while she was gone. But,” he shrugs, “people will believe what they wanna believe. The Munson reputation precedes me.”

You reach for his warm hand, and clasp it in yours, savoring the feel of his calloused palm against your own.

He casts you a desperate glance. “I swear I never did anything to her,” he whispers.

Your chest aches for him, and you squeeze his hand. “Of course you didn’t.”

His breathing hitches. “I guess it’s obvious,” he says, voice trembling slightly, “that there’s a lot of stuff I haven’t, um, told you about yet. And to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready to tell you all of it right now, either. But I will, someday.”

There it is. The notion that Eddie wants to be in your life long-term, and that he wants you to be in his, finally spoken.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to,” you reassure him quietly. “It won’t change how I feel about you, anyway. I think you’re really wonderful. I-I like you so much, Eddie.”

A silence falls over the two of you. Eddie watches the bumblebees fly lazily over the white clover dotting the lawn. You try to think of something else to say, something you can tell him that’ll make the pain go away, erase the hurt that this town has caused him. You suspect that this incident with Chrissy is just the tip of the iceberg that is Eddie’s trauma — for how long was he treated like this by those around him, and how harshly?

Before you can come up with the right words to soothe him, Eddie speaks again, his voice a little stronger. “So you, uh…heard that I was a drug-dealing cult leader, but got upset because you thought I was seeing someone else?”

At last, some brevity. You make eye contact across the blanket, and you’re relieved to see the corners of his lips have turned up into a tiny smile.

Heat blooms in your cheeks as you nod. “I did, yeah.”

He attempts husky laugh, though he still looks weary. “Damn. You got it bad, huh?”

You shrug. “What can I say? You’re a catch, Munson. I don’t think I feel like sharing.”

He hums softly, and he relaxes a little, body sagging as he finally releases some of the tension he’s been holding onto all this time. “Sorry for snapping at you,” he offers needlessly, biting at his thumbnail.

You dismiss it immediately. “Don’t apologize —”

“Nah, I get it. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you if the cult rumors or the dealing really did bother you, even. I mean, that’s some pretty jarring intel to hear from your boss about the guy you’re dating. They’re not really things people tend to look for in a partner.”

You shake your head. “I should’ve talked to you about it as soon as it happened. But it just felt so…crass to come right out and start interrogating you.” You scoot closer to him on the blanket. “You have to believe me, Eddie, I don’t care about what anyone else has to say. I feel like I know you,” you pause, and reach out with your free hand to cup his cheek, “even if I’m a little fuzzy on the details right now.”

He sucks in a quick breath, closing his eyes, and rests his face against your palm. “I have to warn you,” he says, “that if we’re together, and people know about it, then this might not be the last time someone tries to talk to you about me. And I’m asking you to — to trust that I’m not what they say I am.”

“I do,” you promise. “I trust you.”

You lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, and chuckles weakly. Although the reassurance was needed, he’s feeling all too vulnerable for his liking, so he changes the subject. “You know, while we’re hashing things out here, can I ask you an unrelated question?”

You smile indulgently. “Shoot.”

“So, I guess we know now that this wasn’t really why, but Wayne told me that the reason you weren’t talking to me is because I’m up your ass all the time, and that I need to give you more space. That’s why I didn’t come sooner. I know I kind of smother you, and I was worried that maybe, maybe you needed a break from me, or something?”

Rubbing your thumb against his cheekbone, you whisper, “Oh, gosh no. You’re like…my favorite person, Eddie.” You nod shyly, as though affirming it to yourself for the first time. “Yeah. You’re the person I want to be around the most, um, at any given moment.”

Eddie blushes, and something inside of him shifts at those words, making him feel impossibly soft. “Me too,” he returns.

Your turn. “And I have a question for you, too.”

“Shoot,” he echoes.

“Were you gonna play me something on that?” You gesture to his guitar, forgotten on the grass behind him.

Eddie lets out another laugh, the most carefree one he’s uttered today. “I was. Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine you playing acoustic music. I’m intrigued.”

Eddie grasps the neck of the guitar with one hand, and drags the instrument into his lap, situating himself into a playing position. “You’d be shocked, sweetheart. I can make just about anything sound metal.”

Your eyes sparkle wickedly. “Are you gonna play me some Joni Mitchell?”

Eddie purses his lips. “No, I was thinking KISS. It, uh, translates pretty well, actually.”

You cross your legs on the blanket, rest your elbow on your knee and tuck your hand under your chin — giving him your full attention.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s hear it!”

thank you for reading!! <3

taglist: @eddiesgirlforever @eds6ngel @sheisahauntedhouse @lokis-tardis-companion19 @teary-eyed-egg @whenshelanded @nanaminswhore @witchwolflea @destinationwanderlust @kores-mun-son-n-more @clairesjointshurt @fishwithtitz @wickedscorpio22 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @lexr86 @cultish-corner

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x reader series #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x bookworm!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff

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livelaughlovesubs · 1 day

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do you write for nanami? if you do, i have a req :3

au where hes still with us (sniffles) and being a sorcerer is more of an on-the-side thing, and he's like an overworked office middle class guy whos also a wizard on the lowkey. sometimes he works so much he even forgets his birthday. but you didn't. ohhh no you did not. you're at home patiently waiting for him, and all you want is to spoil him for the night because he deserves it!! he deserves to just be taken care of, given the care he needs, maybe a little overstim in the process, but it's all with good intentions... (right?)

SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OMG 😭😭

anyway...... requesting a sub!nanami x softdom!female!reader with a little overstim <3 (out here exposing my service dom fantasies)

idk if you do emoji anons, but if you do can i be 🎱 anon? tysm!! i love your works and i hope your have a lovely day/night :) <333

So taking care of nanami on his birthday? Consider it done. Also welcome 🎱 anon, I’m happy about all my new anons ^^

Dom!reader x sub!nanami

Warning: blow job (reader giving), teasing, marking - hickeys, fluff, use of pet names

Hands moving across the table, reaching for the dirty porcelain. The sound of plates being stacked could be heard, and you swiftly placed the dishes on the counter. Nanami tried to help, carrying the cake over to the refrigerator, though you stopped him. “Let me do it, it’s your birthday today! You are forbidden from working.” You declared, snatching whatever he was holding away and putting it in its rightful place yourself. “My birthday isn’t that important, just let me help.” He was such a gentleman, but you still stayed stubborn. Today was his birthday, yet he still went to work, he even did overtime. That’s not acceptable, at least now you should lift some burden off his shoulder.

Right, that was your plan. To take care of him, make him feel loved and happy. Also most importantly, not let him do any chores. Even if it doesn’t look like that, he also has to rest. You really adored him which is why you wished he’d take care of himself some more, and have a mesmerising birthday of course. So why did he look so troubled? You told him not to help. Instead of relaxing he looks uncomfortable or awkward. Just sitting there, watching you do it all. Seems like this part failed a little.. then it’s time to move onto the next one.

Still determined to make him enjoy himself, you brought him to your shared bedroom after watching a movie. “Could you please sit down, my dear?” You asked him, while slowly stripping your clothes. Until you were only in your undergarments. In the meantime the Blondie sat down, a slightly hesitant look on his face. He wasn’t sure what to do, since you’ve been taking everything upon yourself the entire time. His hands wandered to his belt, gaze never leaving your body. Before he could get rid of his belt, he felt your hands on top of his, stopping him gently. “Leave it all to me, alright?”

Nanami felt really embarrassed now. What was he, a kid? Why would he need help undressing himself? Despite his inner turmoil, he still let you do whatever you wanted. It looked like you planned all of this just for him, thus he’ll try to play along. The last thing he’d want is to inconvenient you. Slowly you pulled his belt out, then your fingers wandered up to his collar. He felt a slight tug as you pulled on his tie, untying the knot. Then you gently, and carefully unbuttoned his deep blue shirt. You were only focused on him, and nothing else, pupils glancing at his face every now and then. A smile spread across your features when you saw him furrowing his brows. “You can take off those glasses now.” You whispered, one hand reaching for his cheeks, caressing him while the other still held his dress shirt. His own hand moved upwards and took them off, placing them on the nightstand.

“Such beautiful eyes, don’t hide them from me all the time, hehe.” “I’m not hiding anything from you.” You sure hoped that was the case, considering how he thinks most of the stuff happening at work isn’t worth mentioning. Now that that was out of the picture, you resumed your previous antics, opening one button after another. Soon it revealed his muscular body, and you couldn’t help but stare. You have always loved everything about him, from the head to toes. Yet right now you were sure his torso was your favourite. How beautiful his skin was, as well as the little, barely visible scars from battles; or his firm chest with those cute nipples.

You moved your face closer to his, hands on his pecs now as you kissed him, locking your lips with his. His lips were soft and you were like in a trance when you kissed him. Before he got to enjoy it you pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. It was way too short for him, but he didn’t complain, he could never get mad at you. Afterwards you started kissing his neck. So carefully and tender, that it felt like a feather brushing over his skin, it was almost ticklish. His breath sharpened by a notch when you started groping his chest, squeezing that place with your fingers. In between kisses and smooches, you made sure to whisper into his ear, showering him with compliments. “I’m so glad to have you, my handsome and beautiful boy.” This continued for a bit, and soon his entire collarbone area was covered by red spots. Some hickeys were on his torso too. “You look gorgeous right now.” you commented on those trails of marks you left behind, before fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

You didn’t strip him entirely naked, only enough that you get to touch him wherever. Pulling his pants and underwear down a little to free his cock. He groaned a little when you wrapped your hand around his shaft, rubbing the part that is connected to his pelvis. “Y/n, darling.. don’t tease today.” Immediately your attention wandered to him again, shushing him with your finger as you said, “don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, I’ll make you feel good today.” A light chuckle, then you played with his tip. The adoration you had for him was genuine, and visible in your eyes.

The way you looked so confident and eager to make him feel good was so adorable in his eyes, and he just can’t help himself but fall even more. Sighting a little before it turned into a breathy moan, “uhh,..huh.” Your delicate fingers were touching all the right places, and soon he was fully erect. One of his hands was clutching the sheets, while the other reached out to your hair, stroking it gently. This surprised you a little, but it wasn’t too bad so you let him be. Then you moved lower, until your lips were inches away from his dick. You let your saliva drool down, afterwards you licked his tip as a tease. “Hmm- i told you not to tease.” “Oh? Guess i forgot that then~” an adorable giggle followed, coming from you. He was truly lucky to have you here with him.

While he was still admiring the relationship you two have build, you took him into your mouth and sucked. Trying your best to avoid any teeth and using your tongue to roll it over his tip. “Ughh- haa..” his grip on your hair tightened. Normally you’d push his hand away, though today was a special occasion. Sweet moans and the occasional gasp spilled from his lips, eyes now clenched shut. Sometimes he’d bite his bottom lip too, to try and keep his voice down. You just continued taking more of him, using your hand to jerk off the rest that didn’t fit. “Darling.” He called out to you, but stopped mid sentence to compose himself. It was getting harder and harder to speak, or to think.

He could feel every fever of his being pulsing, his heart pounding like crazy. The blood rushed to his face and abdomen, making the rest of his limps go numb. Strength was leaving his legs and arms slowly, all while more and more pleasure flourished within him. How his body convulsed every time you licked his tip, or when the inside of your mouth clenched down on him. It felt warm and soft, so good he could feel himself getting closer to the edge.

“Ahh.. keep going, just like that.. please.” Finally he finished his sentence, pleading with you with a meek voice. You didn’t plan on stopping anyway, instead you wanted to make him beg you to stop at the end of this session. Smirking to yourself as you kept doing your own thing, enjoying the noises he’d make. Did it really feel that good? Was what you would have liked to ask, but this is fine too. As long as your lovely boyfriend looks ecstatic and full of bliss, you were content too. Out of nowhere his grip righted by a lot, enough to make it hurt for you. He mumbled apologies while saying, “ah.. I’m clo-close.. haa, sorry., darling…”

What a lucky boy. If today was any other day you would have punished him. Fine, guess you were going to be especially merciful with him. You didn’t mind the slight sting his tug brought you, mouth and hands still working on bringing him over the edge. He let go of your hair in the last minute and clasped it over his mouth. A silent moan left him, then a repressed groan followed. “Nghhnmmm…!! Ahhh..ugh..” his voice was beautiful, you could listen to him all day. Even though his hand wasn’t in your hair anymore, you still didn’t move away. Letting him cum in your mouth, before you finally moved back. When your lips left his dick you made a wet slurping sound, then swallowed everything he offered to you. “Delicious~” you smiled innocently as if you didn’t just make him see heaven.

Suddenly he moved closer to you, sitting up and hands grabbing your cheeks now. “Nanami? Is something?” You wondered, but that curiosity soon got replaced by shock and a joyful feeling you haven’t felt for a while. He kissed your forehead, cupping your face with his hands as he whispered, “I’m glad i can spend my birthday with you.” All while smiling so tenderly, with a calmness and warmth that was unfamiliar to you. Only sometimes he’d get emotional enough to be like this, and whenever he did, you couldn’t help but fall in love with him all over again. “Happy birthday, nanami.”

#sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub jjk #sub jujutsu kaisen #sub nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami fluff #nanami x y/n #🎱 anon

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diazsdimples · 1 day

Text

Fuck It Saturday

I'm not sure if it's friday anywhere anymore so we're fucking it on a Saturday!! I've been super lax on writing this week because I've got a beefy 3k word report on care for transgender/gender diverse parents during pregnancy due on Monday and I am not even halfway done dfkjds. BUT I did get a small trickle of Frostpunk AU beans so I thought I'd share! Snippet below the line bc it's kinda long

Tagged for Friday & Saturday by @smilingbuckley @thekristen999 @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @bidisasterevankinard

@cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley and @kitteneddiediaz, I will be getting to your snippets tonight!!

Buck’s reading to Christopher when it happens.

Ever since Christopher woke up, Buck has been keeping a near-constant vigil at his bedside, keeping the boy entertained and comfortable where he can. He’d even snuck into the Children’s Shelter to borrow some toys for Christopher - a set of cards, a rainbow puzzle, a small, plastic dinosaur toy, and a fluffy rabbit that Christopher had kept tucked under his arm ever since.

So, it’s not entirely surprising that Buck is there when Edmundo wakes up.

The first indication is the bleeping on Edmundo’s heart monitor begins to increase in speed. Buck stops midsentence and turns in his chair. The first thing he notices is that Edmundo’s eyes are open, wide and fearful as he looks around the room.

In a flash, Buck is on his feet, book clattering to the floor, and he rushes over to Edmundo’s bedside.

“Hen!” he yells, praying his friend is close enough to hear. “Chimney! Someone, come quick!!”

Edmundo’s chest begins to heave as a heavy panic sets in and he raises his arms to claw at the breathing tube down his throat. Buck grabs his wrists and pins them to his size, and is surprised at the strength of the man. It takes no small amount of effort to keep him from ripping the tube out, or scrabbing at the IV lines in his arms.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, Hen and Chimney are coming, just breathe for me,” Buck says hurriedly as he watches Edmundo gag around the tube. He knows the man will be getting oxygen, but that won’t be stopping the feeling of suffocation, the feeling of obstruction in his throat.

Edmundo’s eyes bug out as he looks at Buck, gaze boring into him in a silent plea. Help me. Make it stop.

There’s a clattering of feet on linoleum as Hen, Chimney, and another medic Buck doesn’t know the name of all sprint into the cramped med bay.

“What’s going on, what happened?” Hen asks as she comes screeching to a halt, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on. Before Buck can even open his mouth, Chimney is grabbing the extubation equipment and barking orders at Hen and the medic, all three swarming Edmundo’s bedside.

Buck’s in the way, he knows it but he cannot make himself move. Instead, he takes both of Edmundo’s hands and laces their fingers together, squeezing lightly to give Edmundo something to focus on.

“Look at me, Edmundo,” he says as Hen peels off the tape keeping the tube in place. Edmundo’s eyes flick back towards Buck, his eyebrows scrunched together, and Buck’s stomach twists uncomfortably as he sees a tear slide down Edmundo’s cheek.

“That’s it, just keep your eyes on me.”

“Okay, extubating patient now. Hen, have suction at the ready. Jess, get the O2 mask,” Chimney orders, and there’s a fluffy of movement as everyone gets in position.

Buck looks away. He doesn’t want to watch the tube come out. He’s never been the best with medical things at the best of times and this.. well he’s not exactly sure why the thought of Edmundo in particular being in pain makes him so unhappy but it does. So he doesn’t watch, instead keeping his eyes trained firmly on his and Edmundo’s hands. It doesn’t escape his notice the way Edmundo’s knuckles go white as he clings to Buck for dear life.

There’s horrible wet noise followed by the sound of suction and a volley of wet coughs, before Buck hears a deep breath in. He chances a glance upwards and sees Edmundo, eyes open and sans tube for the first time he got to Sector 118. There’s an oxygen mask fitted over his face, fogging up with every breath Edmundo takes.

Instantly, relief flows through Buck like warm honey, filtering through his veins until he’s lighter and warmer than he’s been in days. Edmundo’s awake. Edmundo is breathing on his own. Edmundo’s alive.

Buck grins, unable to contain his joy. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Edmundo.”

“Eddie,” the guy croaks, and Buck blinks.

“Huh?”

“Name’s E-Eddie. Not Edmundo,” he rasps, before breaking out into a coughing fit. Buck rushes to help him upright, takes off the oxygen mask, and holds out a container as Edmundo – Eddie spits into it, his chest heaving from the force of his coughs. Buck rubs his back, murmuring reassuring words until Eddie takes a shaky breath and allows himself to rest back against his pillows.

No pressure tagging (for Friday or Saturday) @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @neverevan @babybibuck @aroeddiediaz

@bibuckbuckgoose @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @wikiangela

@loveyouanyway @exhuastedpigeon @epicbuddieficrecs @hermscat @worriedbisexual

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @actuallyitsellie @idealuk @dangerpronebuddie @simpingforhotfictionalcharacters

@houseofevanbuckley @loserdiaz @elvensorceress @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss

@steadfastsaturnsrings @thewolvesof1998 @jehdogg @ohlookitsthearkhamknight @revenge-of-the-assbutt (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

#james writes #buddie wip #frostpunk au #buddie #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 buddie #911 #911verse #911 fanfic #eddie x buck #HE'S ALIIIIIVE #GOD i'm so glad I can finally write alive eddie #also the fact that I'm at 16k and not even a quarter of the way through...#help

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1800-fight-me · 13 hours

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Hiiiiiiii. :)

First I love love love your fics.

You’re awesome.

Secondly you have a fic called duty and honor or something like that, where Aemond goes to war and his little wife is pregnant.

In it Aegon makes comments to her that she doesn’t like. I was wondering if you would write a continuation fic where now Aemond is back he over hears his brother and becomes all protective knowing this has been happening all the time he was away as well.

Just love protective pissed off In love Aemond and the way you write him, makes a girl swoon :) 🌹

Of Retribution & Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature) (as always - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Violence, reader is a couple weeks postpartum, Aemond being protective

Word count: About 1.3k

Synopsis: Your husband defends your honor and protects you from the hateful words of his brother.

Author’s note: This ask is from the summer of last year lmao my bad,,, I've been going through it lately but hopefully this fic was worth the wait and still makes you swoon! Thanks for the love and support! Hopefully this is also the start of me being more involved in writing and the fandom again! This is part three of my first ever Aemond fic!!

Part one - Of Duty and Honor

Part two - Of War and Longing

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

“It certainly appears to be true that childbirth takes away a woman’s beauty,” Aegon practically sneered at you as he looked up and down your body.

It was merely two weeks after you gave birth to Aemond’s daughter and your emotions were all over the place.

His words filled you with such anger and self consciousness that your body could not hold in the emotions.

Most embarrassingly, your eyes filled with tears. You were aghast at your reaction. Though Aegon often frustrated you, you certainly did not care enough about his opinion on your appearance for his words to cut so deep.

Though if you were honest with yourself, you were already uncomfortable with your appearance today and wished you could have avoided today’s gathering. Though Aemond had assured you that you looked lovely, it was obvious to you, despite your lady’s maid’s best efforts, that you were exhausted. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin, your body went through massive changes and had not had the time and chance to adjust back.

So there, in front of Aegon and the rest of your in-laws, you began to cry.

Damn these uncontrollable emotions that came on so strongly after giving birth.

You wanted to run and hide, and turned to do just that when Aemond walked in the room.

His brow knitted in concern and his footsteps quickened as soon as he saw you.

He was at your side and pulled you into his larger frame as he looked down at you.

“What is wrong?” He asked, his voice tight. His gaze was on you before his eye darted around the room scanning it for danger or anything that could have caused your distraught state.

You pursed your lips, afraid to speak for fear of more embarrassing tears flowing.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice dark with the promise of violence.

You really didn’t want to be the cause of another fight between him and his brother.

“Aegon was being vile,” Heleana spoke up.

You looked back at her in surprise that she would speak up, stand up for you.

Aemond looked over your head at his brother and his eye narrowed.

“What did you say to my wife,” he practically growled.

Aegon visibly blanched and as quick as that your mood changed. You held back a smile. You were eager to see Aegon finally receive consequences for all the horrible things he’d said to you throughout your pregnancy when Aemond was off winning his war.

“N-nothing,” he said and you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

Aemond glanced down at you. He could’ve asked you but it was clear he wanted to make his brother sweat, make him admit to hurting you.

He glared at Aegon who chose to glare back.

Alicent let out a long suffering sigh and explained to Aemond what had been said.

“That’s not the only thing he’s said too, right?” Heleana asked, her voice sweet and innocent. It amused you that she continued to push the issue, trying to get her husband in trouble.

A horrible thought clanged through you that every vile comment he’d made to you, at least you had Aemond’s protection. Maybe it was worse for her. And maybe getting Aemond to punish Aegon for how he treated you was a safe way for her to get retribution as well.

So you met her eyes, took a deep breath, set your jaw, and turned back to your husband. You told him every awful thing you could remember that Aegon said to you those eight months that Aemond was gone.

You ignored Aegon, looking only at your husband as you spoke.

As you finished, the tension in the room was thick, and it became so quiet, quiet enough that you could hear Aegon take a step back.

Aemond took a deep calming breath, gently brushed you aside, then lunged towards his brother.

“Aemond!” Alicent yelled in protest.

“Aemond,” you murmured, a weak attempt to dissuade him, your heart not truly in it as you protested along with her.

You took another step back, your body still weak from giving birth, not having any interest in getting involved in a physical fight, and watched as your husband punched his brother in the face to defend your honor.

He looked like an avenging angel, you thought, as his white hair flew around, his upper lip curled into a snarl, and the look in his eye promised pain.

You wondered at it, the smooth grace with which he attacked, it caused your heart to pound, and you knew it was not from fear.

He really only got two good hits in before the King’s Guards intervened and pulled him away. But it was glorious to behold.

His assault was so quick and vicious, Aegon didn’t even have a chance to fight back.

Alicent was distraught, but Heleana sidled up beside you and gave you a small smile which you returned.

The fact of the matter was, you were incredibly turned on. Uncomfortably turned on as you watched Aemond be violent to defend your honor.

You were ready to drag him to your rooms and make another baby, but then your aching body reminded you that you were in no shape to do any such thing.

Aemond yanked himself out of the grip of one of the guards and strode to you.

He tilted your face up with a finger beneath your chin so your gaze would meet his own that was filled with fire. And smirked at the desire in your eyes.

He pressed a brief but firm kiss to your wanting lips, you heard Aegon yelling something but ignored him completely.

You slipped your hand into Aemond’s, his knuckles a little bloody, and tugged on him slightly, leading him out and away from the chaos.

As you exited the room you gripped his tunic, and he backed you against the wall.

He placed his hands against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in, and with the heat - the fire - between the two of you, there was nothing you could do but rise up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.

And these past weeks with your daughter, the nine months before that as you carried her, had been amazing, one of the most joyful experiences of your life. But, you were not only her mother, you were also Aemond’s wife.

And he reminded you of that, reminded you that you are his wife and he desires you, as he kissed you back, kissed you hard, kissed you in a way that made your toes curl.

This was not the sweet, short, gentle way he had kissed you since she was born, no. This was your dragon filling you with his fire again.

His lips moved against yours, opening you up so his tongue could sweep against your own.

His hand left the wall to grip your waist, and self consciousness at your changed body flared up, but was soon smothered by his desire as he pushed his body closer to yours, pushed you further against the wall, pressed against him completely.

He groaned into your mouth and you nipped at his bottom lip in response. Finally, your body sang, like you were shaken awake by the heat.

You whimpered against his lips, and his tongue danced with yours in response.

Your body throbbed with desire… and then pain that reminded you that although your spirit felt ready to be joined with your husband in carnal desire again, your body certainly was not.

You pulled back, your breathing hard, and he smiled softly as he beheld you. His hand grazed up from your waist, slowly and gently, until he cupped your cheek.

“I can’t-“ you tried to explain, but he shook his head, understanding in his gaze.

“I know,” he murmured.

He kissed you again, this time gentle and slow, filled with care and affection rather than heat and desire.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” you said sweetly.

He chuckled and said, “I love you too, little wife. Let’s go hold our daughter before that look in your eyes convinces me to fill you with another.”

You giggled and took his hand and allowed your prince, your defender, your husband to lead you to your daughter.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n

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cookie-crumblr · 2 days

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F!Bimbo Reader x Bugkeeper Yandere OC

A nipple clamp fueled daydream i had~

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: F!Reader, reader referred to as she/her, reader has a vagina, nipple play, nipple clamps, exhibitionism, pet names for ready (precious butterfly,), beyond Stockholm, reader is in shackles, public fingering, public sex(in a fitting room),unprotected sex, cum eating not proofread.

EEEEEEP! I just bought some nipple clamps with little chains on them and i’m so excited to wear them around like under everythingggg and OMG PLZ…. IM DROOOLINGGG🙈🙈🙈

status: together

You didn’t tell him, you somehow snuck it into your amazon order without him seeing. And they’ve arrived and he didn’t even check the boxes this time!

You’re so excited an entire flock of butterflies fill you dangerously to the brim.

He loves to make you happy above everything else. He takes you shopping all the time, making sure you always get to be covered in the latest fashions and showing you off properly.

You have a surprise for him today when he takes you out.

You get a low cut dress, one that goes almost to your navel, and put it on… Excitedly you take your pretty mounds out one at a time and attach little gold clamps with several delicate chains connecting the two.

The pressure is already divine and has you panting little foggy splotches onto your mirror. But you give the center of the chain a little tug to test it and “Ah!~” Oh gods!

This is gonna be fun! You can’t wait to tell him about the ones with a clit clamp attachment and a collar!!! wheeewww! calm down a little! you’ll spoil the fun before it’s even began! One thing at a time.

Oh but he’ll have the most fun with the collar attachments!

You smack your cheeks lightly to despell the enchantment that dream casts over your mind.

“Oooooh Enixxxxxx!!!! I’m ready, darling!!” You call and bust through the door, arms held up and ready for him to unlock the shackles. The sensation of fabric running over your nipples is already driving you mad! these things are amazing!

He pushes up his glasses, chuckling at your adorable behavior, “Alright precious butterfly,” his hands are soft and clammy as always. He’s so cute and always so nervous even still. No matter how good he is at hiding it.

Black hair falls into his face, and you reach up to push it behind his ear. His dark skin darkens another shade more crimson.

His hands come around yours and your body, his mouth comes dangerously close to yours, brushing past it he’s moves to your ear.

“What are you wearing there, Butterfly, hmm~?” He brushes a thumb over your hard and squeezed nipple.

In shock you let out an “Ah!” at the jolt of ecstasy that sent through you.

“My, my, so sensitive, what is this?” He pulls the fabric away for your chest enough to see the metal squeezing you, and the chains he thought were a long necklace at first. “Trying to be sneaky huh?”

He pulls his touch away from you and faces the door, leaving you with pangs of longing and and a frigid loneliness. You whine, and he turns back to you, “Butterfly, we’re going out, wasn’t that your original plan?” He smiles feigning innocence.

“You’re cruel!” You call after him and follow along.

He doesn’t help you into the van like usual, instead he sits at the wheel and hungrily watches your every uncomfortable movement. The pressure is already becoming too much for your poor nipples.

You want desperately to touch yourself, or better yet be touched.

Your hand flies down and your legs spread, when he grabs your wrist.

“Nope.”

You’re big puppy eyes widen and you pout at him, “wha?”

“You did this to yourself, Butterfly, now i get to watch you squirm,” he says coldly.

Shivers run down your spine, “What happened to that shy guy that couldn’t get out one word without stammering around me, huh?” You poke his cheek.

“You love this me more, admit it.” He says with a smile, but you frown.

“I like every you, so far” You cross your arms and immediately pull your arms away from your chest with a shudder of pleasurable pain.

the car ride is too long and uncomfortable you squirm and writhe begging to take them off for at least a little while, all while Enix just smiles wickedly next to you.

He helps you out of the van at least, his hand on the small of your back, his other holding yours to steady you.

He suddenly brings his head down to your chest, moving aside the cloth over you before lightly sucking on your pinched nipple.

You try weakly to push him off, “Ooh! Enix! S’too much!”

“And who’s idea was this now hmm?” He kisses your clavicle, pausing there, he says: “You should have gotten one with a collar…”

A chill runs down your spine.

He pulls you along next to him, and grabs your ass.

You walk to your favorite Italian tailor’s, you’re giddy as you step through the door and find it more filled with people than usual.

It’s a pretty exclusive place… But you’re excited that there’s more people around today.

You exhale loudly on accident. All the pressure on your buds is starting to hurt!

Soon you’re walking through the aisles, shaking and reaching up to your chest, hoping to get rid of the pressure.

Enix stops you, and you continue to shake in his grasp. “Enix please,” you whine.

His hand slowly climbs your arm, up your shoulder, his chest presses against your back and he leans down to whisper into your ear“You wanted this, Butterfly,”

His other hand brushes gently over your exposed flesh, up your arm, over your shoulder, down the edge of your plunging neckline until he gets to the first chain and lifts it, just readjusting where the pressure is angled.

You sigh, “Eniix”

“I love it when you say my name,” He gently takes the chain back down, grabbing the next chain along with the first and lifting it up next.

The pressure shifts slowly again, and the pleasure along with it, rolling over you slowly.

You feel him slip his other hand up your dress, slowly getting to that burning place inside you.

He doesn’t leave you empty for long, his slender fingers pierce you and his thumb and palm play with your clit.

“Enix! What if someone sees!?” out of breath, you manage a hiss.

“Nobody will, Butterfly, I’m watching” You remember he’s like six foot something, he slouches so badly, you always forget he’s so tall! Of course he can see over the racks.

He keeps dipping into you ferociously, while he holds the chains up and relieves some of the pressure. giving you even more pleasure where you need it. “Mmmmf!”

The heat builds in you, desperately climbing to its peak, he speeds up, he knows your close. Wet with your slick he rubs all the way out over your clit and then back inside of you and curling.

You cum on his long fingers, he brings them to his lips. He licks your essence off languidly, a moan rumbles in his throat.

He pulls you along to the fitting room, luckily nobody’s using it for adjustments.

“Butterfly, let me relieve you first,” her kisses you all along the jaw and neck and shoulder slowly takes your dress off. and then removes the clamps.

He takes each over sensitive bud into his mouth and gently rolls his tongue over them.

“Oh my gods!” You moan, as he keeps up his delightful assault.

The tenderness after the harsh prolonged torture feels like a dream.

He’s making your body burn up again!

“Butterfly,” He lifts your leg, and pushes you against a wall. “Fuck” he presses his length into you and your eyes cross. It feels like he’s pushing in forever and you get to be so fucking full even by the half of it! He stretches you to perfection.

His hand wraps around your throat, as he’s pelting your insides with rough thrusts from his massive member.

“Yes! Enix!!” You hold on to him for dear life as he fucks the shit out of you.

Your spongey walls flutter and contract around him, right before he shoots ropes of his hot load into you.

“I don’t want to pull out,” his voice is gruff and low. he keeps rocking his hips slower now, basking in your pussy and the afterglow of post orgasm bliss.

“We have to go back out,” You tell him.

He slips out of you, still rock hard. “You’re unfortunately right,” his cum seeps out after him.

He swipes your slit and collects some of himself, and then brings his fingers up to your lips.

You eagerly suck on them, he fixes your dress and hair for you, and you get back to the floor.

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gutterfuuck · 1 day

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i literally have your post notifs on now 🫣 that conquerer mark fic was soooo good omfg 🙏🙏 while it’s kind of on the topic of bff mark, would you be able to do like…childhood friends mark that knows the reader is attracted to him (probably in love with him) and kind of uses it to manipulate her? or something similar idk LMAO i’m just in love w the childhood friends/friends to lovers trope and i think u could put a really fun and dark spin on it!

mdni! possibly uncomfortable for some, will add tags soon so please bare with me! not very smut like, some at the end.

this is just a small drable, i will extend on this idea! please enjoy!

i very love this idea; i already know exactly what i will do with this hehe. he's been aware of your little secret crush on him since you both started highschool, thinking nothing of it, thinking that you would eventually grow out of him… until you don’t. you were certain that you were destined to be.

that was until amber came along. you felt threatened, terrified that she would take him from you- she was gorgeous-and he knew it tore you up inside. when college came around; you almost gave up on him. you thought back to how he had knocked on your bedroom window floating one day making you panic and almost scream awake the entire neighbourhood. oh how you wished that he had stayed by your side.

you scrolled through the newsfeeds on your phone, watching back mark-invinvible's - fight today, pining for the sweet boy that you had fallen in love with. you felt as if you needed mark grayson to eat, sleep and drink.

he flew through your window, taking you by surprise as he nodded his head at you as a quick greeting, disappearing into your bathroom in his suit and emerging a second later in no shirt and pajama pants. "thought i'd do a quick check around the city before bed." he spoke, your eyes quickly glancing at his body, observing him. you were sure he wouldn't notice, you'd been doing this for years and he hadn't even paid you no mind.

that wasn't true. mark saw the way you looked at him. not just now, but all the time. he could see the way you mourned for him, heard the way you touched yourself for him, jerking off to the sounds of your hopeless shameful cries afterwards, slowly slipping into despair as you tried to wrestle with the realisation that mark was with another. he craved it. craved you, wanted you.

he wanted to get off…

you were his best friend, so when you watched him slump onto the end of your bed and listened to him complain about his relationship, you comforted him, you heard him. you felt guilty to admit it, but your heart fluttered at the possibility of amber being out of the picture. oh you felt horrible.

mark knew how you felt: euphoric. you were hoping on their downfall. mark and amber were actually only on a little break. “it’s just been rocky recently,” he would get back with her eventually. “we should try seeing other people.”

and he sees right through you, sees right through his pretty little friend. he doesn’t hesitate, his hand resting on your lower back. “i know you like me, i’ve seen the way you look at me.” he speaks and you flush, wanting the bed to open up and swallow you whole. you try to speak, but are interrupted by mark. handsome, strong, sweet mark. “i’m kinda pent up… just- i don’t know.. i don’t wanna make it weird,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, shrugging along with his words. take the bait.

“me and amber— not so active anymore. if you get me.” what was he getting at? you thought your heart was going to pop out of your delicate little chest.

and then he finally pops the question.

before long, you’re on your knees, mouth stretched around your best friend’s dick, drool leaking from the edges of your mouth as he rocked his hips into your face, “c’mon now, i thought you liked me… hah- are you gonna start being a good fleshlight or am i gonna have to go next door and finish inside of amber, huh?” his words were lost on you, the only thing you could focus on was the way you had finally gotten his attention; you were finally useful to him.

#dark blog #invincible #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson smut #fem reader #bff!mark grayson #invincible x reader #invincible smut

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ivonhart · 2 days

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a lil teaser for my nanami x fem gojo!reader part 1 to see if ya’ll are liking it so far

if ya’ll want me to continue writing this just know this mf is gonna be LONG - probably my longest post yet

please note that this is not proof read yet so ignore any possible mistakes🧍

if you have any ideas or suggestions please don’t hesitate to comment because this is my first time writing for jjk and it’s characters (if I remember correctly when Satoru was young that mf was a butthole to “weak” people so he’s gonna be a lil bit of a dick sometimes in the flashbacks btw)

enjoy 🔥🔥

The day Satoru Gojo was born became a day that would be celebrated for centuries to come in the Jujutsu world. The child born with both the Limitless and Six Eyes was revered almost as if he was a god within the Gojo clan due to the fact it has not happened in over four hundred years. So, when the mother of Satoru claimed to be with child a year later, the expectations were set to the heavens.

Throughout the months, as the mother’s belly grew in size, whispers of what the child would possess filled the halls of the estate. Perhaps, they too, would be blessed with the Limitless and Six Eyes. Two children with the abilities would be a revelation to the world for it had never happened before. But, the moment you opened your eyes it was clear you were…nothing.

You held no ounce of cursed energy and the joy of Satoru’s birth was quickly tainted by yours. And your childhood would hold no good memories to reflect on. Nor any good relationships with those in your clan. Now, you found yourself staring at the entrance to Jujutsu High. Although you lacked cursed energy, your father would never allow you to live a normal life.

“Despite the fact you hold no cursed energy, I will not allow you to be anything other than a sourcer. I don’t care if they make you fight them blind, you will not be anything else.” You weren’t sure why he made you take this path. Maybe he could take credit if you do manage to survive into adulthood. The first sourcer with no cursed energy coming from the Gojo clan would solidify just how strong they were. Or maybe he just sent you here to die. With a sharp inhale you pulled your shoulders back, latched your hands together against your tailbone and walked into the campus.

You were introduced to the two other first-year students after being led to the main building for the start of the tour. The first boy was named Yu Haibara. You took note of his overwhelmingly positive demeanor as he introduced himself. His wide eyes sparkled with a thousand stars and a smile that was almost as bright as the sun. He was so positive, in fact, that it made you uneasy. Never in all your life had you been on the receiving end of such sheer excitement and interest in you and what you did. “Enough, Haibara. You are making her uncomfortable.”

Those were the first words you heard come from the second boy’s mouth since being here. He was somewhat lanky in comparison with blond hair that dropped down his face. After his comment, Haibara was quick to apologize which earned him a simple hum from you. “And you are?”

You asked towards the blond. “Kento Nanami.” You nodded slightly before saying your first name. Haibara’s eyebrow raised. “That doesn’t sound like your surname.” Nanami watched as you stared at him with an almost emotionless expression. Since he first laid his eyes on you he took note at how rigid you presented yourself.

Like if one hair was out of place on your head something bad would happen. And your outfit…despite the heat that hung in the air you were showing no skin aside from your head and hair. Your shirt reaching to the bottom of your chin and your hands covered with gloves with solid tights covering your legs. Everything about you intrigued him.

He didn’t tear his eyes away from you when the second-year students entered the room, resulting in him catching the way your shoulders tensed up. “WELCOME LIL’ SIS!” Haibara’s eyes almost popped out of his head at the sight of Satoru Gojo. Little sister? Was all that ran through Nanami’s mind as he kept an unwavering eye on you. “Wait!” Haibara’s snap towards you. “YOU’RE A GOJO?!” You clenched your jaw…hard at the sight of the white-haired boy.

It was inevitable that you would cross paths with him, but you didn’t think so soon. Satoru sauntered over to you with a black-haired boy and brown-haired girl not far behind before throwing his freakishly long arm across your shoulders. “Suguru. Shoko. This is my little sister.” Ever since Satoru entered his teenage years he decided he only wanted to address you like that. You believed it was just something he would do to get underneath Father’s skin, because you knew Father never allowed him to call you his sister.

You didn’t bother to look at Satoru’s friends as you stepped out from his hold with a sneer. “Don’t call me that.” You bit back in a harsh whisper. Though, you knew the others heard because suddenly the room was filled with a suffocating tension. With a sharp huff and dismissive wave towards Haibara who got close you retreated towards Nanami. As you came closer, the boy noted how your demeanor completely shifted. Your once straight shoulders were slumped in on themselves and your head hung low. As if you were trying to disappear into yourself.

The tour went by in a blur and it wasn’t long until you found yourself silently walking alongside Shoko Ieiri towards the girl dorms. She wasn’t like Satoru, she was quiet, but not in the way Suguru Geto was. Not a shy quiet…just a nonchalant quiet. “Soooo…” Shoko’s drawn out ‘o’ echoed throughout the hallway. “Sato–” “Don’t.” Your tone was sharp as you snapped at the upperclassmen. A small smile tugged at her mouth before she responded.

“I don’t think that’s a very appropriate way to speak to your upperclassmen.” She almost regretted the joke she made as she looked back at you. Your eyes were hard as stone, filled with pure hatred at the sheer idea of Satoru Gojo. A sneer pulled at your lips as you clenched your fist together. Truth be told, Shoko was always curious about the younger Gojo.

Satoru would mention you from time to time, but only to drag you down in order to boast about his own powers. “I still can’t believe my father is sending my little sister here. She’s such a weakling! She doesn’t even have cursed energy.” Shoko remembered how he laughed with such glee at your expense. She could only imagine how it was like for you when he still lived at the estate. It was no wonder why you held such hostility towards him. Shoko didn’t need to see much to pick that observation up.

“Just show me to my room and leave me the hell alone.” With a small hum, the girl turned on her heel and resumed walking down the hall. You almost pushed Shoko over to get into your room and without as much as a ‘thank you’ you slammed the door shut. You could feel your chest grow tight with the need to cry. Seeing Satoru after so long brought back memories you wished you could forget.

“‘Toruuu, where are we going?” You asked through laughs of glee at the idea of spending time with your older brother. You never saw him much in between your training and you rarely had chances to talk with him. So, when he came into your room and began dragging you, claiming he had a “surprise” you couldn’t fight the joy that filled you. “You’ll see.” You didn’t know at the time that his smile wasn’t one of happiness and his laughs weren’t fueled by joy. He pulled you all the way to an abandoned house within the forest some ways away from your home. “I found this old house.” His sparkling blue eyes shot around the living room as you entered with a cheek-splitting smile. “I thought we could…make it into a little hang out area.” You felt your heart swell at the idea of spending more time with your brother and with quick nods you agreed. “That sounds so fun, big brother!” He turned to you with a large grin. “So, to get started I need you to get something from the cellar out back. The previous owner left some cool stuff that I’d like to use to decorate this place.” Without any fuss you turned tail and raced out towards the cellar. You had no reason to trust your big brother and you wished nothing more than to make him happy. Quickly, you opened the cellar doors but you couldn’t help but hesitate at the unease it sent through your body. The air that came from inside was hot and stuffy, and there was no light at all…but you wanted to make Toru happy. You wanted to make this place your hideaway. So, with a deep breath you descended the stairs in search of a light. BANG! A yelp escaped your mouth at the sound and sudden darkness. Someone closed the cellar doors. “Toru?” You slowly turned around and with your hands in front of you you began walking. “Toru? The door closed!” “Yeah, and it’s staying closed.” His tone took a complete 180. Before you spoke with enthusiasm, but now his words dripped in hatred. “W-What do you mean? Toru, I’m getting scared.” At this point you felt your heart rate speed up and your body heat to spike. You could already feel sweat run down the back of your neck. “You’re nothing but a weakling and I hate weaklings!” Your shin hit the first step up towards the door as you began to cry. Unfortunately for you, your heightened emotions manifested itself into something you had yet to learn existed. And the very first time you ever felt one touch you was when it sank its large claws into your stomach, causing you to let out a blood curdling scream within the darkness of the cellar.

hope this peaks someone interest

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagine

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slippinmickeys · 20 hours

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This is for @medicatedmaniac who asked for a Ficlet set in the Proof of Life Universe: “Proof of Life my beloved - maybe the leadup to the Pulitzer prize being awarded? Maybe the night of and their in their hotel room getting ready to go to the ceremony? Or they get a letter about being nominated in the mail and maybe have mixed feelings on the nomination?”

1. She gets caught as she stands on the threshold of the hotel room, déjà vu suddenly overlaying her vision like a slide into a projector. The window is in the same place. The desk. The carpet is the same, though cleaner. If she closed her eyes she would hear a spat of gunfire. She does not close her eyes.

“Scully?” says Mulder from behind her with a gentle hand on her upper back.

She has stayed in hotel rooms since being held hostage in Africa, but this one…this one has a layout so similar to the one in which she was held that her amygdala takes over her higher functions. For a moment. One moment. Then she swallows and forces herself to breathe again. Forces herself to calm.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mulder whispers. He has come up more closely behind her, is looking over her shoulder into the room.

He is the only other person in the world who would get it, and does.

In a moment, the bags he was holding hit the floor and he brushes past her, marches into the room with purpose, directly to the desk, where he picks up the telephone receiver.

“I’m getting us a different room,” he says.

Scully swallows thickly and finally does close her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. She does not hear gunfire. They are an ocean away from that place.

“Wait,” she says, then moves into the room herself. Stands in the center and takes a slow turn. Mulder, still standing at the desk, still holding the phone receiver in his hand, watches her.

She turns to him calmly, and, she thinks, with dignity.

“Before you call,” she says, “take my picture.”

“Take your-”

“Take my picture,” she says. “In front of the window.”

Mulder slowly lowers the phone. Glances at her. Glances at the window. She doesn’t have to explain what she means. He understands immediately.

“A journey of a thousand days,” he husks.

Scully nods. “The light,” she goes on, “is perfect.”

2. Africa again, but far east of the jungle mountains and lowlands besieged by war, they are now in the shadows of Kilimanjaro, the savannah stretching before them as paper unfurls from a scroll.

Scully is here for six months, the resident doctor in a rural hospital built and supplied by a Canadian charity. She treats diseases long dead in the First World west, urges the women to collect water from the new well six miles away rather than the river that is only two.

She has a local guide and contact who works for the charity, a lanky Maasai man who goes by the Christian name of James. He wears ropes of delicate and colorful beads and a lion's tooth on a cord around his neck. Under his red tunic he wears a white Hanes wifebeater and sandals made of old tires. He is missing a tooth on the side of his smile, which he is also always wearing.

“Good morning, Doctor,” he says in his friendly accent when she emerges from the clinic door to see if there is anyone waiting for treatment.

“Jambo!” Scully says at a volume and enthusiasm which makes her uncomfortable. She would rather a quiet hello and nod, but the culture she is living in necessitates jovial greetings at all times.

James is leaning against a post just beyond clinic porch and holding a spear which means he was likely out in the bush.

“Have you seen Mulder?” she asks.

“Yes,” he says. “He got a call. He asked me to come and get you.”

At this, Scully raises her eyes. Cell phone reception is spotty here at best. She hasn’t bothered to carry her phone with her in weeks. Mulder always has his out in the field, but the clinic is in a dead zone and there’s really no point.

James pulls his own cell phone out of a pouch that’s looped around his waist. He presses a button and hands it to her.

“Scully?” says a tinny voice punctuated by static. She puts the phone to her ear.

“Mulder?”

“Scully,” Mulder says. “Call Benjamin and Savato, tell them we have to leave early.” He explains his statement in a rush and Scully is dumbfounded when she silently hands the phone back to James.

He nods at her and steps back respectfully. When she’s halfway through the door of the clinic, she comes back to herself and spins around.

“James!” She calls out. “How does your phone work here?”

James smiles widely, showing the gap in his mouth.

“Magic,” he says.

3. The day is sullen; gray and without cheer. Outside the window, the rain comes down in a defenestrating assault.

In the bright doorway of the bathroom — they have a top floor suite — Mulder stands, struggling with the knot of a bow tie.

“Monkey suit,” he says, a little whiny.

Scully smiles and walks up to him, the silk sheath dress she’s wearing whispering as she moves. She’s not wearing heels yet and has to tilt her head back to look up at him.

“It’s only for an evening,” she says, reaching up and taking over the knotting. “And if the big mucks at Columbia hear you complaining, they might take back your award.”

Mulder lifts his chin to give her more room to work. After a moment she feels his warm hands settle on her waist.

“There,” she says, straightening his bow tie. His hands stay where they are.

“Does it feel weird?” He asks her quietly. “To be here? For this?”

She pulls a stray hair — hers — from his white sleeve.

“A little,” she says.

4. “…for fairly obvious reasons, the areas of arts of scholarly arenas live close to my heart and lived experience. Over these two decades, so much has changed in our world. And we all know those changes have had huge impacts on journalism, the arts and scholarship. But three things have remained true. One, is that we value these roles of journalism, the arts and scholarship, and that has remained central to a good life. Personally, socially and politically. The second is that good and talented people continue to join these professions. And the third is that the Pulitzer Prizes annually provide the world with the occasion like tonight, to honor and celebrate these critically important areas of human endeavor, and the people who perform at the highest levels in them…”

The speaker continues to drone on. Scully pushes the remainder of her short rib around on her plate. Mulder has barely touched his fish.

The picture of Scully standing in the window of room 1055 at the Hilton has been projected on a giant screen behind the podium for the last several minutes, and Scully can feel the eyes of the gathered assemblage flitting to her on a near constant basis.

They’re probably thinking of her trauma, of her experience, and they have most certainly read the stories that were breathlessly published about her and Mulder. Most of them have seen up close and personal the ravages of war and upheaval. There are several journalists she knows here, acquaintances she left behind when she resigned from CNN. Most of them approached before the ceremony and politely inquired about her, her health, what she was up to now. Many with a sad, pitying look on their faces.

She sets down her fork and turns the wedding ring around in circles on her finger. She doesn’t feel pity when she looks at that picture. The look on that woman’s face displays nothing but courage, and the eye behind the camera nothing but love.

When Mulder heads up to the stage a moment later to be handed the certificate he won, the applause that spreads through the room is thunderous. His eyes never once leave hers.

5. The lobby of the auditorium is thick with people and humidity, joyous voices rising up over the static of tires sloshing over rainy streets just beyond the front doors. They’ve been back in the States for a week, but Scully still isn’t used to the crowds. The noise.

From behind her, Mulder touches the bare skin of her shoulder. He’s just returned from the coat check and holds up the red wool coat she’d had to buy at Nordstrom two days before. She puts her arms through the silken sleeves.

All around them winners and colleagues and friends are making plans to go out and celebrate their accomplishments. One man in a charcoal suit has a bottle of Veuve in his hand that he swiped off of one of the tables. Several people have invited them to join them.

Mulder tips his head to whisper in her ear.

“We can slip out right now when no one’s looking,” he says.

She doesn’t even wait to answer, using her small stature to slip in between several people and out into the cold damp.

They’ve been provided a town car and driver for the evening, but it’s too hard to find him in the chaos outside the auditorium, so they hail a cab instead. Once they’re on their way back to their hotel, Mulder pulls the certificate out from under his coat where it was sheltered from the rain and looks at it.

“I’m starving,” he says to the piece of paper.

“You barely ate,” Scully points out.

“I was nervous,” he explains.

Scully takes the certificate gently from his hands and looks at it. The gold foil. The calligraphy.

“If we call in a room service order now, it should be to our room by the time we get out of the shower,” she says.

“God I love you,” Mulder says reverently.

They gorge themsevles on cheeseburgers and truffle fries, and, on a whim, a bottle of champagne (Mumm’s rather than Veuve, as, Mulder points out, he isn’t about to spend his prize money on booze) as they sit around in fluffy white robes with HBO on mute on the big TV in the corner.

On the desktop, under their room key, sits the Pulitzer certificate.

“That’s as much yours as it is mine,” Mulder finally says to her, nodding towards it.

“Yes,” she agrees, and sets a half full glass of bubbles on the bedside table. She reaches for the terry cloth tie of his robe.

Later, it’s all soft sighs on soft sheets and Mulder fills her with himself until they become each other.

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #au #prompt #proof of life

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rainba · 9 hours

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Hihihihi!!! How would the sillies respond to a darling who's self destructive (both socially and physically, like self harm and self sabotage)? I love ur OCS btw ur writing is amazing 💘

Aww, thank youuu!! :3c

And thank you for the ask!! It's really made me think....

Huge warning for these responses, they are very… Dark. If these topics make you uncomfortable, please feel free to skip this one!

TWs/tags: self-harm, toxic behaviors from the yans.. Lots of angst (plus comfort)

For Kairos, it’d be a really unhealthy situation. He, too, engages in really self-destructive behaviors, and if his darling also does it, he’d only end up enabling you even further. In some way, Kairos would see it as “beautiful”, the two of you suffering together at your own hands... He’d be one of those people that would watch you cut yourself and then kiss your scars right after… And then he’d cut himself in the same places, just so you two can “match.”

And if you’re socially self-destructive? Pushing everybody away because you just feel like everyone secretly hates you, or for some other reason? It’s okay– all you need is Kairos, anyway! You can destroy all of your other relationships, so long as you keep Kairos close to you.

He’ll love you forever and ever, you never have to worry about him leaving you. If you push him away, he’ll keep coming back. You could be at your absolute worst, and he’d still view you as a perfect angel. It’s… Not healthy. But he can’t help it.

However– if you were to ever put yourself into any life-threatening situations, or if you genuinely wanted to die, he'd become downright terrified and would try his best to make you stop your self-destructive behaviors. After all, he loves you too much– he doesn’t want you to die. The two of you need to live long, happy lives together! If engaging in all these self-destructive things with you might lead to your death, he’ll do everything in his power to make it stop, and he'll also make sure that the both of you get better. He'll hold your hand every step of the way, recovering alongside you. And he'd never judge you for relapsing.

Basically, it's sort of like this: if you want to get worse, Kairos will also get worse. If you want to get better, Kairos will do everything in his power to help you, and he’d also try to help himself along the way. It’s almost like he’s mirroring you, in some ways.

As for Luka, he’d have a totally opposite reaction to Kairos. He would be enraged that you actively hurt yourself. He’d handle it pretty badly. If he found out that you actively harm yourself, he would refuse to take his eyes off of you and would be monitoring your every movement... You'd suddenly never get a moment to yourself.

When you’re using the bathroom, he’ll be standing next to you the whole time. When you shower, he’ll be showering with you. When you go to sleep, he'll be caging you in his arms.

If you have a job, he might actually force you to quit, just so he can monitor you even further. Either that, or he’ll make you take a temporary leave from work until he knows that you’ve stopped hurting yourself.

It’s… Absolutely not a good way to go about it, he knows this, but it’s the only thing he can think of doing. It's his gut reaction to it all.

Luka would keep asking you ‘why’ as he holds you tightly in his arms, glaring at you while also having pitiful tears in his eyes. For one of the first times in his life, he feels so deeply hurt and confused. He isn't prepared at all to handle the feelings that are bubbling within himself. Luka would also start losing lots of sleep.

When you’re sleeping peacefully in bed beside him, he’d sit up and bed and just… Stare at you for hours.

Slowly, he'd start kissing your cheeks, stroking your hair, and then holding you close as he tries not to be upset with you. He knows that you’re hurting… And he loathes how helpless he feels. While he’s not the biggest advocate for therapy, he would ask you to go see a therapist. He knows that he alone can’t help you– and that it’s impossible for him to just monitor you every second of every day.

If you refuse to see a therapist, he’ll be upset, but he won't force you to go. All he tells you is that if you need it, he’ll listen to you– even though he’s horrible at giving good advice. But at the very least, he’s really good at just listening to you. He’ll remember everything you tell him. And any time you show signs of improvement, he will be proud of you.

As for socially sabotaging yourself, it’s the same as Kairos. All you really need is Luka, so… He won’t stop you from cutting everyone else off. ^^;;

#ask #kairos posting #luka posting

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taylorswiftstylequestions · 1 day

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Sorry this ask turned into an essay — as I explain I have a personal connection to this topic and a lot of thoughts on it, ha

On the topic of Taylor’s discussion of Joe’s depression — I have never seen anyone claim that she has made fun of it, but I have seen some discussions from people who feel that she’s been unfair or insensitive with how she’s spoken about it, or that she broke up with him because he was “too depressed” and that she was blaming him for things he can’t control. Renegade has been used as an example of this, and more recently So Long London (specifically “you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days).

I don’t want to speak for anyone but myself here or invalidate anyone’s feelings of hurt with how Taylor addresses these topics (because that is entirely fair to be hurt by if you interpret it in that way), but I will say this: as someone who has been on both sides of this equation (I have clinical depression that I’m in the process of getting medication for, and I’ve also had multiple relationships with people who were going through severe mental health struggles that I was trying to support them through), I don’t think that the way Taylor has referenced Joe’s depression affecting her in her music seems cruel to him. I’ve never gotten the impression that she is blaming him for struggling or that she expected him to just stop struggling and get better, or even that that’s the reason their relationship ended. I think there’s a lot of frustration in those songs, and while I understand why some may balk at that, it can be really frustrating at times to love someone who doesn’t love themselves, or who is pushing you away at every turn. It’s not their fault, and I don’t think Taylor is framing it as such, but that can make it even more frustrating when it feels like things are breaking down and there is nothing you can do to fix it.

And I feel like it’s kind of taboo to talk about those feelings because (in my experience at least) they’re wrapped up in so much guilt? I was in a relationship very similar to the one described in Renegade once, and I would get into this cycle where my partner would be struggling, I would try to help them, they would push me away and/or say things that would really hurt me, I would feel upset and hurt, but then feel so guilty for being upset and hurt because I knew they didn’t mean it the way it felt and that this wasn’t about me, so I would just keep those feelings to myself and say nothing, and it would start all over again. These aren’t pretty emotions at all, and I fully understand why some people are hurt by the way Taylor talks about them, but I think there’s a big difference between “I’m frustrated because my partner is struggling and I feel like I’m giving them everything I have but nothing ever changes and it’s hurting me” and “my partner is too depressed to deal with, why won’t they just get over it?”

I’ve had loved ones tell me tell me to just stop being depressed before — I know that hurt very well, and at least to me, this feels different. Honestly I really appreciate songs like Renegade and So Long London because hearing someone else talk about that experience has made me feel less like I was some uniquely horrible person incapable of being the perfect supporting partner that I should have been. I think it’s just a shitty, frustrating situation where no one is solely to blame, and I think that’s how Taylor presents it.

But again, this is just my opinion — I can totally see how and why people might interpret them differently and feel hurt by them, and I don’t want to speak over those feelings at all

Hi friend! First of all tysm for being so open and honest about your personal struggles with both yourself and past relationships - I'm grateful you feel you can be safe here talking about that. And secondly in your grace and empathy in understanding the many potential sticky layers of feeling here and how this might be ruffly and uncomfortable for people. I love that so much.

My interpretation has always very much been in alignment with yours. And I think if this album was seeking to do any one thing it was to wield honesty like a blunt force instrument - even and especially when the truth is uncomfortable and can be alienating. I've never once interpreted her documentation of a partner's mental health struggles as "get over it" (is there anyone who better understands how fucking hard it is to get over literally anything than Taylor?). But I feel the line that haunts me most is, "I gave you all my best me's / My endless empathy / And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier". And the uncomfortable truth is that it is so incredibly painful to be in love with someone who doesn't love themselves and who has proven (despite years of begging and pleading and patience and kindness) that they are not interested in becoming someone who can love you better. And it's unfair and shitty and horrible to have your "spine split from carrying [both of you] up the hill" for years. You feel sad for them. You feel sad for you. You feel sad that you feel sad. And then you feel mad that they are making you sad. And and and.

#tss ttpd party #opinion

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jealousjersey · 10 hours

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₊⊹ ꕤ˚large and in charge ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

pairing ★ sub!josh futturman x dom!reader blurb

synopsis ★ yours and josh’s relationship has gotten bland, and when you suggests pegging, it takes a big turn.

warning ★ pegging, cumming, no gender specific reader, mentions of rough patches in relationship, begging, moaning, thrusting, penetration with toy, toy use

dating josh futturman wasn’t the worst thing in the world…you loved him. and he loved you, but your sex life wasn’t ideal, you were ultimately tired of how vanilla things have gotten. so whose gonna blame you if you suggest something…uncomfortable ;)

“baby, i was thinking we could…try something different. you’ll think it’s weird but i’ve looked it up and it’s not! many people do it! and i was thinking that we could…try it and see if it works for us…” you say nervously to your boyfriend, placing kisses on his shoulders, specifically focusing on his freckles

“well what is it” he replies hesitantly, knowing you could say anything

“uhh, have you heard of…pegging? like me fucking you?” you say, almost stuttering.

“uh…yeah i’ve heard of it…is that something you’d want to do?” he asks, completely open to the idea of it. something about you being in charge this time really does it for him. he’s always thought about it this way…him being a sub for you, it’s mainly the theme in his mind when he masturbates.

“yeah..yeah i do. are you up for it?” you ask. he nods his head eagerly, showing you how much he wants this. you never expected him to be so…open to this. it almost made you want to take him right there…but the equipment is needed first.

“okay, do you wanna look for one with me? we can order a strap on from amazon.” you say, motioning him to lay down with you. you hold him close to you as you open amazon on your laptop.

“does this one look good?” you say pointing at the screen, showing a pink translucent dildo with sparkles implanted into the silicone. it’s no huge dildo by any means, maybe a 6 inch. you wanted him to be comfortable his first time, and not just shoving a 12 inch in him.

be nods his head, his arms sill wrapped around you and head buried in your chest. “yes, that one is good” he whispered, looking almost embarrassed by the action of looking for one.

“i’ll order it baby” you place a kiss on his red cheek, flushed with embarrassment. your kiss, this simple soft gesture melts his nerves away.

friday

the day comes, you get a notification that a package is on the front porch. a decently sized white parcel with a sticker showing your address, the sender shows the person you ordered it from. it’s finally here.

you rush inside and go to your bedroom, opening the package, accidentally waking him up. it doesn’t matter how much sleep he gets, he can always manage to get more.

“it’s here? already?” he says, wiping his eyes away from the sleep and yawning. but as he sees it in your hands, the translucent pink dildo, his face turns a deep shade of red.

“mhm…you ready?” you ask, excitedly. you tried to act nonchalant about it but god it was hard when you’ve wanted to do this for so long.

“yeah…i’m ready.” he says, sitting up in bed, his hair messy and his eyes partly closed with sleep apparent in them.

directly on the beat, you get lube from the front drawer and slide it around the dildo, josh can’t help but get hard at the sight of this. he almost wishes you were doing that to him.

“take your pants off and get in doggy style” you say to him, trying to sound as seductive as possible but he can’t help but laugh.

“god don’t say it like that” he chuckles, but he does. his ass looks so good like this. you spread some lube on your fingers and insert them into his hole, something about the way it clenches around your fingers makes you shiver with excitement.

“that feel good?” you ask, pumping another finger inside him, watching his dick gradually get harder as it touches his stomach, still in the same position.

“mm…cold” he whimpers. “getting hard…put the toy in please” he begs, he looks so cute like this. scared and cold just waiting for your next move.

“gonna put it on slowly okay?” you say, reassuring him. all he can do is mumble as you insert the slick toy into his hole, feeling the way he flutters around it. he lets out a soft moan of pleasure.

“more….” he whimpers, and you obey. you push in more, almost filling him up completely, the sensation of being in control makes you so excited for this.

you push in deeper, hearing him grunt, moan, whimper. it all makes you wetter.

“m’gonna cum…please say i can cum please” he whimpers, dick hard against his stomach with precum leaking down his chest.

“just a little more, you’re doing so good josh” you encourage him. “such a good boy, taking my strap so well.” you coo.

your hips rut into his ass, the strap on hitting his walls as they clench around it.

“so tight…so good for me” you say, knees wobbling from the position you stand in.

“good boy, you can cum now josh” you say, pushing further into his hole, and with a loud moan. he cums, and god….youve never seen so much in your life.

his cum squirts out of him, leaking all over the bed, then pooling on the floor as it spills. god, he makes such a mess.

“such a good boy” you say as you pull out, a wet pop filling the room as his hole returns to its normal size.

“sorry…i made a mess…” he says, turning completely into a bottom.

you press a kiss against his lips and get a towel, wiping his chest as he lays on his back, his dick softening.

“don’t worry baby…did you have fun?” you ask. he nods eagerly.

your sex life just got a hell of a lot interesting.

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princess-of-the-corner · 10 hours

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Aware of Abuse AU

Nino in this is a little fascinating to me, cause I can’t see him NOT becoming friends with Adrien. I can see them maybe not being super close, especially at first, but I can’t see them being enemies. But I can also see Nino becoming the first class kid (outside Sabrina, and I’m not sure how she counts) to really GET the rich kid trio, and start trying to make proper friends with them.

Like, Just How I See This In My Head

(sorry to put this under a readmore but it’s a little long)

So, we have the first day shenanigans, who knows what, but we still have a bit of seat drama. Adrien ends up sitting in the front on Chloé’s side, Sabrina and Chloé behind him (protecting him, but shhhhh, that wasn’t on PURPOSE). Which means that there’s an empty seat next to Adrien, and … no one really wants to sit IN FRONT of Chloé. It’s not that they think she’ll DO something, but it Makes most of them uncomfortable. Like, no one’s being explicit about it (except maybe Marinette) but everyone’s reluctant to take that seat. So, Nino decides, “welp, someone’s gotta sit there. New kid doesn’t seem too bad, questionable friends aside” and plops himself down, introduces himself to Adrien.

Like, keep in mind, he’s been in the same class as Chloé for most of his school life, but Nino isn’t someone who’d be much on Chloé radar. He isn’t her friend (Sabrina) or her “obstacle./rival/jealousy-crush (Marinette). He and Chloé probably butted heads a few times, but nothing serious. Plus, she doesn’t mutter (Max) or kick the chair in front of her (Kim). She’s a tolerable seat mate. If it gets bad, well. He has headphones. He can probably just ignore her.

So, like, Nino takes the seat, introduces himself. Adrien starts to light up, because yay! New friend! But Nino probably still asks why he’s friends with Chloé. His light dims a bit. He gets quiet. He’s seen today why he’d ask, but he’s also seen other shit. He’s BEEN through some shit. He’s also been through the WRINGER today, fighting a giant stone monster did a NUMBER on him. He’s TIRED. So Adrien responds in a way he might not normally. "If you knew her, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Nino’s a bit taken aback - that is a … weirdly solemn, serious response?? vaguely concerning?? - but decides, ok, sure. Why not? That could be a valid point, Nino doesn’t actually know Chloé personally, despite them being in school together most of their lives. She could genuinely be nice to some people. Or she could be a manipulative fuck, again, Nino doesn’t actually know her that well personally. Maybe she’s a decent person to people she considers “worthwhile” or some shit. Maybe she’s brainwashed Adrien like most of the class think she did to Sabrina. Who knows? Not Nino. But he doesn’t have to be a dick about it. If Chloé’s an amazing friend to Adrien, awesome. Maybe he’ll help mellow her out. If she’s actually the Anti-Christ, Nino can hopefully provide an example of a good friend for Adrien to look at and realize he deserves better.

(For the record, Nino does NOT think Chloé is devil spawn, he’s just looking at the two most extreme possibilities in his head)

So, he nods, concedes the point - “Yeah, that’s fair. We don’t really hang.” Adrien lights up a bit more, pleased. They chat a bit, about school, hobbies. (Behind them, Chloé’s in a state of shock, because what??? Someone??? Admitted she might?? Be good?? Not bad?? In a roundabout way, BUT STILL????!?)

So Adrien and Nino are … maybe not FRIENDS right away, but FRIENDLY. They talk. They exchange numbers. Adrien misses a day for a photoshoot, and Nino helps Sabrina take his notes. Nino still mostly hangs out with Marinette, Alya, the rest of the class, but he makes time to hang with Adrien too. At first just them, wandering around Paris, or hanging in his bedroom, but slowly, Nino gets invited to hang with Adrien, Chloé and Sabrina, sometimes Kagami.

And like … It’s awkward. We won’t pretend it’s not. But while Chloé is blunt, sometimes rude, she isn’t going out of her way to be MEAN. Isolated from the environment Nino’s used to seeing her in, it becomes really clear that Chloé just doesn’t have many other ways to interact with the world, and either has difficulty learning, or in a few cases doesn’t see the point. Away from everyone else, she’s also much more friendly to Sabrina - tries to talk her up more, get her to take more agency (maybe … not always in the best way, but she’s TRYING). And like, hanging with her at the mall, and then seeing her in school is a bit of whiplash for behaviour, but like. Now Nino’s SEEN her be a decent person with stunted social skills. He doesn’t think it EXCUSES anything, but like. He no longer buys Marinette’s “Rich Brat, Perfect Life” rant.

I think the big turning point for all of them would be Nino finding out how much their jokes about their parents aren’t exaggerated jokes. They aren’t “this is funny cause it’s ‘out there’” the jokes are “this funny cause it’s true”.

Cause like. At first, Nino honestly believes thats what they are. “The gates of hell would open before my dad threw me a birthday party.” / “I think my mother would fire me, if it wouldn’t look bad for the press.” “Like, fire you from being her daughter, or set you on fire?” “Yes.” / “Do you think my dad would notice if I pierced my ears?” “Oh, absolutely! Can’t have the face of his brand altered without prior agreement!” “True, true. What about you?” “Oh, I could dye my hair a different colour every day for a month and he wouldn’t notice.”

Like, Nino thinks it might just be some weird, rich people thing? It doesn’t help that, like, Adrien and Chloé don’t tend to make that many of those sort of jokes around him. I mean, they might know their parents suck, but they don’t want anyone ELSE to. It’s personal. Other people won’t get it. They don’t want pity. Whatever the reason, they try to keep the jokes on the downlow when hanging out with Nino. So, Nino doesn’t get the full force. A few black humour style jokes like that are … concerning, but Nino doesn’t think they’re, like, full on awful. Maybe a bit “rich parent neglectful” but like. Not bad, right? His friends aren’t in that bad of a situation, right?

I like to think the tipping point is a slip up. Something dramatic, because. I mean. Look at these kids. Drama follows them.

Like, say Nino’s over at Adrien’s. Gabriel is out for the day, which means the two have run of the place. They’re relaxing, playing video games, whatever, when Chloé bursts into the room in tears. Nino’s so shocked he falls off the sofa.

Chloé, however, doesn’t even look at him. No, all her focus is on Adrien, cause GUESS WHAT MUMMY DEAREST DID NOW!? Maybe it was a dinner gone wrong. A gift turned sour. A random argument. But just because Chloé KNOWS her mom is a bitch, doesn’t mean it hurts any less when Audrey demeans her. When she knows which nerves to hit and buttons to press. She’s ranting, sobbing about how, oh, of course she did this, why am I even surprised, I should have expected this, honestly. I knew what she was going to do, why open my big mouth!? It’s ridiculous, utterly-!

Chloé stops. Because she just noticed Nino. Who is having a horrible paradigm shift, realizing oh. Those jokes were NOT exaggerated. His friends’ parents ARE that bad. They DO suck that much.

Chloé’s ready to start falling apart all over again, because god, could she GET any more pathetic, she just spilled her guts in front-! She didn’t even SEE him, why wasnt she more careful-! Adrien is trying to figure out damage control. Nino can see them both panicking, and just says, “We could sell her kneecaps on eBay.”

Chloé & Adrien: “… . what?”

Nino, straight faced: “eBay. I heard kneecaps go for a lot, these days.”

Adrien, after a pause: “Audrey’s though?”

Nino: *shrugs* “I mean, I don’t think we’d get much for them, especially once they’ve been shattered, but I still think we could get SOMETHING.”

More silence.

Nino: “Like … four dollars? I’m pretty sure we could get at LEAST four dollars. Maybe some old, chewed gum. Some dryer lint, if we feel like pushing it.”

Chloé, starting to smile a little: “… Mom has security.”

Nino: “I have a nine-iron, a taser, and six years of parkour. Also, I’m pretty sure Max has access to the dark web, and he owes me a no-questions-asked favour.”

Yes!! YES!!!!!

This is the vibes I am imagining!!

#submission #aware au

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hey-august · 13 hours

Text

➜ A continuation of this story, based on this wonderful request!

Word count: ~1.3k

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x amab!reader 🍆, no use of Y/N, anal sex, briefly fantasizing about other people during sex, loosely implied shanks x buggy

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Another night, another performance complete. Buggy steps out of his bathroom to empty chambers. The stage was reset in his absence with neatened bedsheets. The only lingering signs of your presence are a fresh glass of water and pain relievers on the bedside table.

That’s how each show ends. You never stayed longer than needed, and Buggy never asked. He ignored your only offer back in the beginning and that wordless decision established the roles you each played during these trysts.

Buggy sits on the edge of his empty bed to accept the small comforts you leave behind. The medicine helps alleviate the soreness spreading through his body and blooming on his skin, but it doesn’t work for the ache that lives deeper inside. A longing that is only abated when you’re pouring yourself into him while his closed eyes chase fantasies.

It’s not long before another act is scheduled and your skills are needed. Your mouth is hot on his skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses and false promises that are full of nostalgia and memories of the sea. His fingers are threaded in your hair, following your journey and afraid to be left behind. Huffs and puffs of pleasure edge into hungry requests for the scene to progress.

“P-please. I need more.”

As your presence recedes, the ache of desire grows. A thread of tension is pulled taut as you line yourself up against Buggy’s body. His ocean-colored eyes flutter open in both anticipation and confirmation. Spit and precum aid your length sliding into the pirate and splitting him open for the first time tonight.

Unprepared for the confining tightness, you hiss sharply. Buggy watches through half-lidded eyes as you throw your head back. This is different. This isn’t in the script. The improvisation changes everything and pulls him from the immersion. He can’t hear his fantasies in your voice. The fullness isn’t a memory or a desire he’s chasing. It’s you. Just you.

Frowning, Buggy squeezes his eyes shut to force you out and lock himself in. He visits each sensation - the right hand gripping his hip, his leg resting on a shoulder, hot breath wafting across his sweat-coated chest, the jolt from each rough thrust. You say the words from his imagination and from his past, but there’s a divide. A chasm that he’s sinking into.

“Hey, you still with me?”

A voice cuts through the darkness. It’s full of kindness and worry, tones that Buggy hasn’t heard in this bed before. Opening his eyes, Buggy is faced with an expression mirroring those feelings.

Buggy nods and looks away, embarrassed that you can read him so easily.

“Should we take a quick break?” you offer while running a hand along the leg hoisted over your shoulder and massaging the muscles. His body relaxes under the soothing touch.

Licking his dry lips, Buggy nods again. “Yeah,” he responds hoarsely.

You pull out slowly and lower Buggy’s leg onto the bed before finding a spot in the rumpled sheets. A heat increases in Buggy’s chest, reacting to your thoughtful movements.

You’re always mindful of the person you share this space with and it ignites a hot flame that the pirate struggles with. It makes him uncomfortable. You make him uncomfortable. That’s why he prefers when you’re someone else. It’s easier for him to pretend he’s fucking a fantasy.

And yet, the burning desire continues to consume him. Even when you take him past the brink of exhaustion, there’s still a part of him that’s unsatisfied. A part of him that’s curious. Afraid, but interested.

Buggy rolls onto his side, facing away from his confusion.

“Do you want to try something different, captain?” Your hesitant voice drifts from the side of the bed. Again, full of a softness that manages to compress Buggy’s chest.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

A change could stitch the rift Buggy was falling into. Maybe the issue isn’t that he can't picture someone else, but that he’s chasing the wrong illusion.

A hand reaches over to brush a few strands of hair stuck to the side of Buggy’s sweaty forehead. The unexpected touch is met with a small flinch and a held breath.

“Well…who are you thinking about?”

The answer comes quickly and without thought, carried on the stuck breath that needed release.

“You.”

The bed shifts as you prop yourself up to look at the backside of the man beside you. The one who continues to avoid looking at you.

“Captain, ar-”

“Buggy.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air. You never referred to him without the title, unless you were bringing a different relationship to life.

Repeating the two syllables of his name pulls a soft sound from the captain. An enticing noise.

Your body wraps around Buggy’s, holding him to his confession. Each twitch and throb of your cock is pressed against his lower back as it cries for how badly you want him. A need that is stroked by his sneaky hand.

“Oh f-fuck,” you whine against his shoulder while bucking into his touch.

The sincerity in your voice is bewitching. It tugs at Buggy - peeling back the veil, plucking at the strings in his chest, and winding up his thread of tension. Following the lure, Buggy shifts against your body and eases himself onto your erection.

His sigh is echoed by yours dancing across his damp skin. You move slowly and intentionally, drawing out more sounds with each agonizing drag. Suckling kisses move along Buggy’s shoulder and up his neck.

“H-harder…”

A small head tilt grants you more access to his skin. Smooth and unmarked, until your teeth leave small indents and your lips bring bruises. Buggy grinds into you harder with each lingering reminder left on his body. Each one laying claim and burning with honest desire.

“Fuck, I want you so badly,” you pant. Grabbing his hip, you pull his body to meet yours and thrust your feelings deep into Buggy. “Say my name. Please, say m-my name.”

A high-pitched whine is spun into the most wonderful version of your name. Buggy repeats it, letting the taste coat his tongue and pour into him.

Anticipating the impending flood, you pump Buggy’s dick with jerky movements that smear precum all over his lower stomach and your hand.

“Cap- Buggy… Buggy, I want you to come for me. I need you to come for me.”

Desperation drips from your voice, as it drips from the head of his cock, before exploding with white hot jets.

“I’m coming, fuck- you’re making m-me come,” Buggy grunts while bucking against the sensations on both sides.

The mess is everywhere. Some clings to his abdomen, some seeps into the bed, and the remainder is coaxed to dribble on your hand. It’s not quite enough, though. Moving your hand up his body, sliding on sweat and cum, you hold him tighter and chase your release. A real release, not one that mimics someone else’s joy.

The sound of your name falling from Buggy’s painted lips fills the room and your head as you empty your balls. Your thrusts grow erratic and sloppy, disrupted by each pulse shooting deep inside Buggy.

Rubbing your face on the back of his shoulder, you press soothing kisses to each mark and murmur soft appreciations and unnecessary apologies.

Your heart beats heavily, the sound of exertion and uncertainty reverberating off of Buggy’s back. The hand wrapped around his body feels the same tempo beating in him. Before you could pull away, Buggy wraps his hand around yours.

“Don’t go,” he whispers.

You don’t answer. For a painful moment, Buggy wonders if you were going to ignore his request, just as he did once before. The sting is eased when you nod against the back of his head and tighten your embrace.

Finally, the persistent longing that had been lodged in Buggy for so long was gone. And in its absence was you. Just you.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #x reader #buggy the clown #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut

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