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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Seven-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktov. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Violence, Aggression, Blood, Slapping, Slight Masochism, Sexual Aggression, WeaponizingEnzoBerkshire(im sorry?), Fingering, DARK THEMES.

***FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"Rowena, render me resilient." You huffed, mumbling to yourself while pulling your infuriated corpse out of the creaky wooden chair in the empty potions classroom. "I'm going to fucking kill that boy."

Mattheo was thirty minutes late. Thirty. Three. Zero.

At first, you dismissed his tardiness, convincing yourself it was just another instance of his habitual delay--and in those initial ten minutes, you buried yourself in your homework, trying to maintain an air of indifference. But as the clock ticked away, another ten minutes, then another five, your patience wore thin, your nerves splintering with palpable annoyance. From that point on, each passing second seemed to echo with the ghost of his absence, amplifying your frustration.

The room seemed to close in on you as you stared at the clock, wondering why he would brush you off so callously when he damn-well knew he was the only fucking reason you were there, in that classroom, in the bloody first place.

The single-minded focus on confronting Mattheo propelled you forward, urging you to swing open the creaky wooden door with a determined force. As you stepped into the eerie, freezing corridor of the dungeons, your resolve transformed into a palpable energy, driving you forward with every purposeful stride. The anticipation of the impending confrontation overshadowed any trepidation, making you oblivious to the typical nerves that might have accompanied a situation like this.

As you approached the Slytherin common room, the distant thumping of loud music permeated the heavy door, sending vibrations through the floor beneath your feet. Despite the unfamiliar territory and the intimidating reputation of the Slytherin's domain--which was often veiled in a haze of marijuana smoke and the lingering scent of alcohol--your anger acted as a shield, eclipsing any reservations or second thoughts.

Your frustration boiled over as you banged on the door with a force that reverberated through the wood, echoing your impatience. With each pounding knock, a faint haze of smoke seeped out from the cracks around the door, a telltale sign of the revelry inside--it felt like centuries had past before the door swung open, a thick cloud of smoke billowing out from the bustling common room; and before you could react, a Slytherin student you didn't recognize--tall and imposing, grabbed your arm and yanked you inside, pulling you close to him.

He pressed you against the door as he slammed it shut behind you, his eyes narrowing as he scanned your appearance from head to toe, clearly suspicious of your presence inside his domain.

"Who the hell are you, and what do you think you're doing here?" he demanded, his voice sharp and laced with suspicion. The scent of alcohol mingled with the smoke, adding an acrid edge to the atmosphere as he scrutinized you, waiting for an explanation. "You're out of your bloody depth little Ravenclaw...some nerve-"

You stammered, hardly able to catch your words. "I-I'm Mattheo's tutor...he didn't show up to-"

"Mattheo's tutor, huh?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery as he cut you off. "Well, good luck trying to drag him out of this madness on a Friday night. Once he's in, he's in deep, and nobody can rescue him, especially not a helpless little Ravenclaw like you."

His grip on your arm tightened, emphasizing his point, the pressure sending a jolt of pain through your body. Your stomach twisted as you watched his lips curl into a cruel smirk, his blue eyes glinting with sadistic amusement.

"You're better off running along before you get sucked into our world. We Slytherins don't play nice, especially when it comes to parties."

With that, he shoved you away from the door, dismissing you with an irritated flick of his hand, leaving you standing there, caught between frustration and helplessness, engulfed in the suffocating haze of smoke and the pounding rhythm of the music as you attempted to gather yourself. Admittedly, the smell was getting to your head, you pulse pounding in your temples and matching the base of the music. You shot your gaze around the room, in search of any sort of sign that Mattheo was around--but you didn't get very far before you felt movement behind you.

Your heart raced as you spun around, finding yourself surrounded by practically all the boys from the infamous Slytherin Quidditch team, their cold gazes assessing you with a mix of curiosity and arrogance. Draco Malfoy, the groups undeniable leader, sneered at you, his blond hair perfectly styled despite the chaotic atmosphere of the room.

"Well, well, look what we have here, boys," Draco drawled, his tone dripping with superiority. "A lost little Ravenclaw wandering into our house. Did you take a wrong turn on your way to the library, sweetheart?"

You swallowed, your eyes shooting around at each of the men as they circled around you, Theodore Nott and Regulus Black shared a knowing glance, exchanging silent communication that made your skin crawl. Blaise Zabini, the schools best known charmer, stepped closer, his smug smile sending chills down your spine.

"Or perhaps you're here to join the party?" he suggested, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin prickle with discomfort. Lorenzo Berkshire, the powerhouse of the team, folded his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable as he observed you. The room seemed to close in around you, the haze of smoke thickening as their presence suffocated the air.

With every instinct screaming at you to escape, you tried to muster courage. "I-I'm just looking for Mattheo," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pulsating music. "I'm his tutor, and he was supposed to meet me for a study session...I came to find him."

Theodore smirked, tilting his head as he scrutinized you with a calculating gaze. "I don't recall Mattheo mentioning anything about a tutor," he said, his voice low and edged with suspicion. "Are you sure you're in the right place, Bella?"

"Or, perhaps you're here for something other than tutoring?" Lorenzo said, his voice like a low growl--your nerves multiplying as he took a deliberate step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "You should know that little birds who dare to venture into the snake's den rarely ever make it out alive..."

Lorenzo's words stirred something inside your chest, your stomach twisting into a knot so tight you thought for sure your intestines were about to explode. The boys, their eyes gleaming with a sinister intent, moved forward with calculated steps, their chuckles weaving through the air like unsettling whispers. They encircled you, a menacing dance of predators closing in on their prey-the glint in their eyes mirroring the sharpness of fangs as they closed the gap, enveloping you in a suffocating sense of dread.

You couldn't help but to be acutely aware of the irony of the situation, you were the helpless little bird ensnared in the midst of hungry snakes--desperate for rescue that you knew would never come--internally freaking the fuck out until you steeled your shoulders, gathering every single last ounce of your courage to meet Enzo's burning gaze head on--a glint of defiance twinkling behind your eyes.

"Little bird, Berkshire?" you taunted, your voice ringing through the room as you took a bold step toward him, your head held high to meet his eyes. "Last time I checked, the Ravenclaw emblem was an Eagle…unless it’s changed without my knowledge…" you continued, your gaze unwavering, watching his jaw clench with irritation. "Do you know what eagles are capable of, Berkshire? Or is that information too elevated for your limited intelligence?"

Lorenzo's lips curled into a contemptuous smile. "Save your Ravenclaw wit for your textbooks, little bird," he said, his tone dripping with disdain. "In our den, you're just prey, no matter what emblem you wear."

The boys around you chuckled darkly, their laughter echoing through the room like the hiss of snakes, only fuelling your urge to defend yourself further. Lorenzo took another step forward and you straightened your shoulders.

"Your attempts to wield venom through words mirror your feeble Quidditch endeavors…always falling short of the impact you intend," you sneered, your confidence cutting through the tension. "Perhaps it's time to reevaluate your definition of prey, considering the ones who underestimate tend to fall the hardest."

Lorenzo's nostrils flared, his face turning crimson with rage. "You got quite the mouth on you, little fucking brat," he spat, his voice sharp as a dagger, hand reaching up to grip your jaw, pulling you tight against him--the scent of alcohol flooding your nostrils as his free hand gripped your hip, your mouth parting in complete, paralyzing shock. "You want to fucking say that again, huh?"

The boys surrounding the two of you exchanged uneasy glances, their initial amusement morphing into concern as they realized just how far he was willing to take things. A few of them took cautious steps back, their confidence waning in the face of Lorenzo's escalating rage.

Your voice wavered, a mixture of fear and defiance. "Let go of me."

"Not so tough now, are you?" He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening. "You're bloody pathe-"

Lorenzo's malicious words hung in the air, pregnant with menace, but they were abruptly silenced by a deep, furious rumble that reverberated through the room.

"Berkshire," you recognized that voice. You’d never, ever not recognize that fucking voice. "What the fuck are you doing?"

The resonance of his voice was like a rolling thunder, each syllable echoing off the stone walls and sending tangible shivers down your spine. The very atmosphere seemed to quiver in response, and you could almost feel the raw power of his anger vibrating in the air, setting the entire room on edge. Enzo's eyes widened in alarm, his confident facade crumbling like fragile parchment in the face of Mattheo's wrath.

Slowly turning, Enzo locked eyes with the approaching Riddle, whose gaze blazed with an unyielding fire, and without giving him a chance to react, Mattheo surged forward, his movements swift and deadly. His fist, wrapped in a tempest of rage, found its target in Enzo's jaw with a resounding impact.

The force of the blow sent shockwaves through the room, Enzo's head snapping violently to the side, a spray of crimson erupting from the corner of his lip, painting the air with the evidence of Mattheo's strength--and the room stood still for a moment, suspended in a heartbeat of sheer shock as Enzo stumbled backward, his once-defiant demeanor now entirely shattered.

In the wake of Mattheo's ferocity, the room remained suspended in a tense silence, like a captured breath waiting to be released, the echo of the impact still ringing in your ears. Enzo, once the epitome of arrogance and aggression, now stood stunned, his hand clutching his injured jaw as he struggled to regain his balance. The other boys, previously reveling in their sadistic taunts, stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief at the sudden turn of events.

Mattheo, his chest heaving with restrained fury, stepped forward, his gaze locked onto Enzo.

"Touch her again," he growled, his voice low and menacing, "and I'll make sure you regret every last moment you spend at this fucking school."

Enzo, now visibly shaken, nodded weakly, a mix of fear and humiliation clouding his eyes. Without another word, Mattheo turned his attention to you, his expression softening slightly, concern flickering in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentler now, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had just erupted in the room. "Did he hurt you?"

Your mind buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions, struggling to process the chaotic events that had just unfolded. Numbly, you shook your head, your hand instinctively reaching up to rub your jaw, still tingling from the force of Enzo's grip.

"No," you said, not daring to meet his eyes. "I'm fine."

With a nod, Mattheo turned, his eyes boring into the remaining onlookers, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "Enough gawking. Move along," he ordered, his tone laced with steel. "This isn't a show for your fucking amusement."

The intensity in his words sent the spectators scrambling like startled crows, leaving you and Mattheo in the quiet aftermath, the weight of the recent events hanging heavily in the air as he peered down at you with dark eyes.

"You came looking for me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible above the fading echoes of the room. "Thought you'd appreciate a night off from my bullshit."

Your chest seized as you eyed his face--the cut across his nose from yesterday still faintly bleeding, swatches of blood still decorating his jawline and cheekbones--you couldn't deny that this boy was a bloody mess. A cunning, arrogant, complicated fucking mess--but Gods, was he fucking attractive.

"I don't appreciate being blown off without notice, Riddle..." you huffed, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "Not that you could ever relate."

“You’re right, I can’t..I usually get some notice before being blown.” With a slight smirk, he gripped your wrist, meeting your eyes. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

Mattheo's hold on your wrist was firm yet oddly reassuring as he guided you through the chaotic Slytherin common room. The room was a cacophony of laughter, music, and rowdy students, but his presence seemed to part the crowd effortlessly, creating a path for the two of you with ease. The air outside the common room was a welcome relief, free from the suffocating haze of smoke and the overwhelming scent of alcohol. Mattheo didn't release your wrist, his touch lingering, and you found yourself following his lead as he navigated the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts.

Silence settled between you, broken only by the distant echoes of the party behind you. Mattheo's expression was unreadable, his eyes focused ahead, as if he was deep in thought. The tension that had gripped you inside the common room began to dissipate, replaced by a strange sense of calm in his presence. As you walked, you stole glances at his profile--his jawline sharp, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes a stormy mix of emotions.

There was something different about him tonight, something vulnerable beneath his usual composed facade.

As the two of you finally reached the vacant potions room, Mattheo relinquished his hold on your wrist, allowing his fingers to slide away like the fading echo of a melody. He gently pressed open the ancient door of the classroom, and you slowly ventured inside.

Your senses heightened, capturing every subtle nuance of the space. The faint creak of the floorboards beneath your weight, the distant hoot of an owl, and the rustle of leaves against the windowpane merged into a symphony of nocturnal sounds. The anticipation in the air crackled like static electricity, wrapping around you as Mattheo's presence loomed closer, his warmth seeping through the layers of your uniform.

A singular step carried you further into the room, yet your feet rebelled against moving any closer. Your body buzzed with a peculiar blend of apprehension and curiosity, a tingling sensation that crawled beneath your skin. Mattheo's proximity felt palpable, his body brushing against you as he stood just behind, a silent guardian in the obsidian night.

The click of the lock reverberated through the chamber, its sound shattering the silence like a fragile glass.

His words caressed your ear as he spoke, accompanied by the strong scent of whiskey on his breath. "You're a goddamn handful, Raven..."

At the sound of his voice, your lids fluttered involuntarily, warmth creeping down your back, you were beyond thankful that he was behind you and couldn't see your reaction.

Your voice was a breath as it left your lips. "That's funny, coming from you..."

"Touché, princess." He hummed, the vibration massaging your spine. You tensed as his hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your hair back with it. "I'm sorry about Berkshire...he's a real charmer..."

You huffed, shaking your head, dismissing the heat that pooled in your core with each passing moment of his proximity. "Seems like all you Slytherin men are...certainly know how to dish it out, but don't know how to take it, hm?"

His lips curled into a smirk, his tone laced with arrogance. "Oh, we know how to take it, Raven," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I certainly do, anyways..."

Your breath caught in your throat. "I'm not so sure about that, Riddle...my mouth has gotten you going many times now..."

"Fucking right it has..." he growled, lips grazing the sensitive skin on your neck. "But I can handle you...the real question is, can you handle me..."

Your pulse was flying, rocketed somewhere into another galaxy. "Haven't I proved myself yet..."

A low, rumbling chuckle escaped him, reverberating through the room. His warm breath brushed against your skin, sending shivers of anticipation across your flesh. His tongue traced a torturous path up the side of your throat, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His hands hovered over your hips, their presence magnetic, hesitating slightly before tightening their grip as if uncertain of your response.

"Not even fucking close, princess..." he purred, his words dripping with desire. "You have a long ways to go still..."

A soft, involuntary sound escaped your lips, your head falling back against his shoulder, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations that coursed through you. Resistance seemed futile; you were utterly ensnared in his grasp. He wielded an irresistible power over you, and you had no strength left to resist, even if you wanted to--all you had were words; empty, meaningless words.

"I thought you didn't want to do this anymore," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hushed breaths between you. "I thought you just wanted me to be your tutor."

Mattheo's grip intensified. "I said a lot of things last night that I didn't mean, Raven..." he murmured against your neck. "I was drunk."

"You're drunk right now, too, Mattheo..." you muttered, unable to hide your amusement. "Bloody hell, you have issues."

"I know...I've gotta work some shit out," his teeth nipped your earlobe, you could practically feel the smirk on his lips. "I'm exercising my demons, Raven, I promise..."

His words hung in the air, laced with desperation and a yearning for understanding, as if he sought solace in your presence but didn't know how to ask for it--with a sharp inhale, your hands found his, and when he loosened his grasp on your hips, you spun around to face him, meeting his dark, penetrating eyes.

Your hands fell to your sides, fingers trembling as your gaze darted from his eyes to his lips, and back to his eyes. "What the fuck do you want from me, Mattheo Riddle..." you whispered. "Give me a solid answer...for once in your bloody-"

"I want you," he cut you off, his hand shifting to cup the side of your face. "...I want you on your knees for me..." his thumb brushed your cheek, his head tilting. "...I want you swallowing my cum..." he wet his lips, leaning closer, "...but most of all, I want you moaning my fucking name until it's the only word that pretty little mouth knows how to say."

Your lips parted, a soft exhale of contentment escaping your throat as he brushed his mouth against yours, stealing every breath from your lungs.

"But…you can't stand me, remember..." you whispered, your voice trembling like fragile glass. "You hate me..."

"Yeah," he huffed, his gaze flickering to your lips. "I hate you."

Your heart thundered against your ribs. "You hate me.”

"Yeah, I fucking hate you," he replied, his eyes simmering with intensity. "Do you hate me?"

"Yes," you responded, the words flowing from your lips like molten lava. You needed no time to think about it, not even a second. "I hate you."

"Yeah?" His eyes darkened, his features glossing over with something that made your stomach twist. "Say it again."

"I hate you, Mattheo Riddle..." you murmured, his lips brushing over yours again, sending electric sparks across your skin while his hand slithered around your lower back, pulling you closer. "I hate you so much."

He gripped your uniform between his fist, a low chuckle leaving his throat, his voice dripping with seductive arrogance. "I don't think I believe you, Raven." He purred, his warm breath caressing your lips. "Maybe you should prove it."

He pressed his lips to yours in one swift, powerful kiss, the intensity of it leaving you breathless. His mouth trailed a scorching path along your jawline, his tousled curls tickling your cheek as his warm breath fanned your skin. Speaking became a struggle amidst the sensations that engulfed you.

"How do you propose I do that?" you managed to breathe out, your voice barely audible over the thundering beat of your heart. His lips moved to your ear, pressing against it with a tantalizing heat.

"Hit me," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

"What?" Your body erupted in an incomprehensible collection of emotions, admittedly taken back by his request. "Why-"

"Hit me," he repeated, voice harsher now. "Just like last night--fucking slap me, Raven...don't be shy, you know I deserve it..."

The intensity behind his words propelled you into action, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Without a moment's hesitation, you inhaled a sharp breath and drew your hand back, the room electrified with anticipation. With swift precision, your palm met his cheek in a sharp, resounding smack--his tousled chocolate curls dancing upon impact, his head jerking to the side.

In the charged aftermath of your slap, a potent silence hung in the air, laden with fervent anticipation. When he smirked, his eyes ablaze with a searing intensity, it felt like a scorching brand against your skin. Undaunted and admittedly more fucking turned on than you'd ever been before, you wound your hand back again--this time, your slap landed with a fiercer impact, a guttural groan escaping his lips as your palm connected with his cheek for the second time.

Before you could register what was happening, his hand gripped a fistful of your hair, his strength surprising you, and he spun you around. With a forceful push, he shoved you against the wall, the impact sending a shiver down your spine. His lips crashed onto yours with a hunger that matched the storm raging within you, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you both.

"You like that, Raven?" He purred, his fingers working to untuck your blouse before slipping underneath the fabric, the sensation of touch sending shivers down your spine. "You like making me fucking hurt, huh?"

"Gods, yes," you gasped, words choked through your breath as his fingers teased your nipple under the fabric of your bra. "You deserve so much more than that."

"That's right," he groaned, arrogance flooding his tone, lips moving like a sin along your neck, igniting your senses. "I'm a piece of shit, aren't I...using you like this...taking you as my little fucking toy when I said I wouldn't..."

A shuddering breath escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair, unable to deny the raw intensity of your desires for even a single fucking second longer.

"Mattheo," you gasped, your voice barely audible, your body amplifying your words as it pressed closer to his, spine arching as he teased your nipple. "Touch me...please, just fucking touch me..."

"There she fucking is...there's my dirty little slut..." Mattheo groaned, low in his throat, teeth sinking into your neck. "Begging for me without even needing to be told...fuck, you learn so quickly, don't you..."

As his hand trailed down your stomach, you let out a shaky breath, feeling the heat of his touch flood through you. The trail of embers he left in his wake had your mind reeling, making it hard to even form coherent thoughts--your heart pounding so hard you were completely fucking certain he could hear it.

"Matty..." you whimpered, his teeth marking your neck, your grip tightening in his hair.

As his fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt and found their way to the mound of your pussy, you couldn't help but arch your back, pressing your hips closer to his hand. The fabric of your thong did little to impede the sensation, and you felt your body responding involuntarily to his touch. Your bodies were pressed tightly against each other, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in rhythm with you.

"Shh," he murmured, hand slipping from your hair and clamping over your lips. "You'll need to be quiet princess...you don't want to get caught like this, do you?"

His body shuddered against yours as you mewled, the vibration sending a wave of pleasure through your limbs. Mattheo pressed himself harder against you, his hardness pressing against your thigh--the sensation sending a jolt of excitement through you, causing you to roll your hips against him in response. You were so fucking far gone now, there was absolutely no saving you. You wanted more of him, all of him, every single inch he wanted to fucking give you.

"Oh my fuck-" Mattheo's voice was a breathless growl as he slipped his fingers under your thong and slid a finger through your soaked slit, your entire body jolting against his--a loose moan reverberating through your chest. "Oh fuck, Raven...you're so fucking wet..."

Breath hitching, engulfed in a deluge of lust, you wriggled against him, lava already flowing out from your centre and through your veins.

"Look at what I fucking do to you..." he pressed your head against the wall, his own head shifting back to meet your eyes. "Who else gets you this fucking wet, huh? Fuck...this little pussy already belongs to me..."

You choked back a moan, stifled under his rough palm as the pad of his finger drew slow circles around your clit, warmth flooding your body. Your hands clutched the fabric of his shirt now, digging in with enough intensity to slice the fabric with your nails. Mattheo growled, watching every ministration of your face under his hand, rubbing faster in response, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your hips bucking.

"That's it...fuck..." he muttered, loosing himself in your eyes, in the heat of your pussy dripping from his touch. "No turning back now, Raven...you're going to fucking cum for me...you're going to make yourself mine..."

Your lids fluttered, body trembling, oxygen fleeing you without hesitation; short, insistent groans escaping your throat, his fingers assailing your stiff nub. You were balancing on your peak, ready to tip over, never knowing pleasure so fucking intense in your entire life.

"Look at me." He hissed. "Look into my fucking eyes as you cum for me."

Every nerve in your body felt electrified, pulsating with a pleasure so intense it was almost painful--chest rolling and head spinning as you met his eyes; drowning in their chocolate intensity. His touch, his gaze, everything about him overwhelmed your senses, plunging you into a euphoria you had never experienced before. You were gone, hardly hearing his words, hardly even conscious, the sensations flowing through you were unlike anything you've ever known. And then, before you had a chance to accept it, white light flashed in front of your vision, blurring your sight, a blissful heat ripping through you and shattering your sanity as you squealed into his palm--Mattheo’s lips parting and his chest heaving as he watched you, not daring to blink, not even daring to breathe.

You became aware how tight you had been holding him, and you quickly released him, a wave of hot shame washing over you. Your hair was sticking to your face, your cheeks tingling.

"Such a good girl," he said, lifting his fingers from your pussy and bringing them to his lips, shoving them past his teeth, holding your stare as he sucked your juices off of them before slowly pulling them out with a pop. "Just getting a taste of what I have to look forward to later."

You exhaled a long, trembling breath--your conscious slowly returning.

“Gods,” you gawked, speechless, body still tingling with the aftershock of your climax. “What are you doing to me, you plague of a boy…”

He chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a malicious smile. “Told you I’d ruin you Raven…” he said. “I may be many things, but a liar isn’t one.”

———————

Here’s eight->

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munsonhoneybaby · 2 months

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Three's Company | Eddie Munson X F!Reader X Gareth

Summary: When Gareth accidentally interrupts your typical evening with Eddie, the night takes a turn that none of you were expecting.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, alcohol consumption and heavy marijuana use so automatic dubcon, smut, mostly pwp, p in v (unprotected), voyeurism, fingering, masturbation (m), oral (f receiving), daddy kink, hair pulling, choking, little praise, little degradation, honestly just a touch ‘a everything yk how it goes

A/N: it’s not specifically stated but gareth is about 21-22 and eddie is 23, about to turn 24. this is honestly just one big filthy mess i can’t lie, so just brace yourself. and i did throw in a lil action with gareth right at the end for all my gareth girlies out there <3

started with this idea

Smoke hung densely in the air, thick clouds drifting lazily through the small bedroom. The three of you were working your way through your third joint, the windows sealed and trapping the hot, heavy air inside. Empty beer bottles sat scattered on almost every surface, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s still two-thirds full on the nightstand beside three miscellaneous coffee mugs. Yours was white with a picture of a crab and said ‘Don’t bother me I’m crabby’.

You watched your boyfriend as he tapped the joint against the rim of the ashtray before leaning over you to pass it to his drummer. The openings of the cut-off sleeves of his Led Zepplin tee flashed you the dark ink crawling across his ribs. His rings clinked against Gareth’s in the handover, just loud enough to hear over the mixtape that you’d made for you and Eddie. It wasn’t exactly designed to suit the usual mood when the guys were over– Jeff would usually be there, too– but the two of you had started the evening alone together.

Eddie had been rolling up for the night at his desk when his friend called him. Apparently, Jeff had plans with a friend from work, leaving Gareth woefully bored and lonely; on a Saturday night, no less. It had you both feeling a little sorry for him, so you told Eddie to invite him over. After grumbling under his breath– something about ‘just wanting to fuck his girl in peace’– he begrudgingly did as you suggested and your party of two became three in less than thirty minutes.

You didn’t mind, though. Whoever said two’s company and three’s a crowd must have never spent two hours sitting, drinking, smoking, and talking with Gareth and Eddie.

“Sorry again for crashing your date,” Gareth apologized to you. “If Ed told me you were here, I wouldn’t’ve come.”

Eddie stood to pour a finger or two of whiskey into his Campbell’s Soup mug and you stretched your leg out, using your sock-covered foot to nudge your own mug closer to him. “Oh, so you don’t wanna hang out with me anymore?”

He scoffed, “C’mon, you know I think you’re cool as shit.” After topping off all three drinks, Eddie handed Gareth his. “I just don’t wanna third-wheel you guys too much. ‘S a little rude and pathetic, don’t’cha think?”

The boy took a swallow with a faint grimace, then rolled the desk chair he was sitting in about a foot closer to offer you the joint. “It’s not pathetic, Gare. You’re just hanging out with friends.” The music faded out and your head lolled towards your boyfriend with a lazy grin as “One of These Nights” by Eagles began. He just shook his head at you with a little smirk, biceps flexing as he raised his arms to tie his hair back in a low ponytail. Settling himself on the bed, he let his back rest against the wall as he sat between you and where Gareth sat in his desk chair.

You took a long drag, eyelids drooping as your head tilted against Eddie’s chest. His eyes roamed your body as it fitted to his. Your shorts were a little shorter than you’d normally wear in front of Gareth, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain as he eyed your bare legs curling over his lap. Smoke billowed slowly from your mouth and the feel of his friend’s gaze on the two of you wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning down to breathe the rest of it in for himself, lips slotting familiarly between your parted ones. From your knee, his hand crawled slowly up the outside of your thigh to your hip. Your own fingers wandered to his exposed ribs, stroking lightly over the small date forever etched into his skin– the date you’d gotten together, almost three years ago now.

He didn’t tell you he was getting it; he knew you’d tell him not to, that it was a bad omen, but he didn’t believe that. Maybe you’d only been together for a year at the time, but you were a part of him. In fact, he’d wanted to have your name done, but after seeing your reaction to Rick getting his girlfriend’s name tattooed he’d worried you’d tear him a new one for it. Though you had to admit, it had grown on you. Maybe after ten years, you’ll let me add your name, huh babe, he’d said when he first showed you. Now the thought had your thighs squeezing together, the way you both knew you belonged to each other– the way everyone knew.

Gareth certainly knew, unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him though he knew he’d been staring for far too long. Watching Eddie’s teeth tug on your lower lip had him gnawing at the inside of his own. A glimpse of his tongue slipping into your mouth had the younger boy’s palms sweating. It wasn’t until his breath hitched at the sight of his friend’s hand sneaking between your thighs that you finally seemed to remember he was there.

Swatting Eddie’s hands away, you passed the dwindling joint to him and fixed an apologetic look in Gareth’s direction. “Sorry, I’ll make sure he behaves.”

“It’s okay, sorry I uh- interrupted–” He cleared his throat a little awkwardly and cracked his knuckles. “You want me to roll another one?”

“Go for it.”

While he turned around at the desk, Eddie’s mouth was meeting the sensitive flesh below your ear. His tongue grazed your skin and you let out a small gasp before pinching his thigh in warning. He hissed, but that smug little smirk of his remained.

Meanwhile, Gareth’s shaking hands were struggling not to rip the paper. He could hear all of it, even the occasional wet smack of his best friend’s mouth on your skin. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he shook his head a little and focused on finishing the task at hand. When he finally turned back around, his mouth went dry at the sight before him.

You sat comfortably between Eddie’s legs, back against his chest and head tilted to gaze up at him. He stared back at you with the same adoration, breathing in the last hit and ashing it in the tray on the nightstand. His free hand was halfway up your shirt and Gareth tried not to imagine the way his fingers must be teasing along your ribcage. He could see the blooming spot of red in the crook of your neck– which definitely wasn’t there before– slowly growing darker. So much for making sure he behaves.

He handed Eddie the joint and lighter which earned him a crooked grin and a “good man.” He watched him place it between your lips instead, lighting it for you as the shape of his other hand moved higher beneath your baggy t-shirt. Still, he could make out how the older boy kneaded at one of your breasts beneath the fabric until you swatted at him yet again. His throat grew tight and he could only hope and pray that neither of you noticed his pants doing the same.

The two of you had always been a little handsy, and he couldn’t deny that part of him always had some trouble keeping his eyes away, but something was different tonight. Maybe you were acting a little more intimate, maybe it was the heady music you’d been playing all night– hell, maybe he was just too fucking crossed– but it was different. He was one second away from having a nervous breakdown or busting in his jeans.

Suddenly, he was struck by the deep twang of “I Want You” by The Beatles beginning. Eddie’s head fell back against the wall with a thud, “Mmm, I fuckin’ love this song. Y’know that, Gareth? She loves this song too, don’t you, sweetheart? S’that why you put it on here?”

“Shut up.” You weakly elbowed him, but both boys still caught the way your thighs squeezed together.

He chuckled, his nose dragging along your cheek as he murmured, “Yeah. My sweet girl wanted me to fuck her to this song tonight, didn’t you, baby? This one always makes her shake.” Your stomach flipped nervously as your wide eyes were forced to meet Gareth’s, your bewildered expression mirrored on his face. He went on. “Maybe we should show him, hm? I mean, since he feels so guilty ‘interrupting’ us and all. What d’you think?”

Gareth was starting to think the dream-like quality of the night was because he actually was dreaming. This is Eddie Munson. The same Eddie Munson who almost knocked a middle-aged man’s teeth out for whistling at you three months into your relationship. And now, what? He wanted to–

“Y’gonna let me fuck you in front of ‘im, sweetheart?”

By your deer-in-the-headlights expression, Gareth would assume you were just as shocked by this turn of events as he was– which you partially were. You and Eddie had mentioned once or twice the idea of letting someone watch, Gareth’s name had even been thrown around when discussing the subject over a packed bowl, but you’d had no idea he had been considering it so seriously. Still, you couldn’t deny the way Eddie’s words made the heat between your legs throb. Glancing up to meet his eyes with uncertainty, you bashfully whispered, “I-I don’t know if Gareth wants that, Eds.”

Your boyfriend’s smirk only grew, fingers teasing at the waist of your shorts. “Don’t worry, babe, Gareth’s a dirty little pervert just like me. I mean, he’s been hard for twenty minutes.”

Finally, you glanced over at the boy in question whose face was now redder than you’d ever seen before, and his eyes immediately shot to the floor. He looked like a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Knock it off, you’re embarrassing him. S’okay, Gare. You’re allowed to look.”

Hesitantly, he lifted his head and his heart could’ve stopped. Eddie was tilting your chin towards him for a kiss with one hand as the other worked its way into your shorts. The glimmer of his rings in the low light caught the younger boy’s attention, eyes following them down your throat until they disappeared beneath your shirt once again. Lips leaving your boyfriend’s, you turned to him and held out the joint that had apparently stopped burning. “Wanna come get this?”

He hoped you didn’t hear the shaky breath he let out as he willed his knees not to give out and stood from his seat at the desk. “Y’sure you don’t just want me to l-light it for you?” The faint tremble in his voice matched the one in his hand as he took it from you, embarrassment warming his cheeks.

You must have noticed as you replied, “S’okay. You clearly need it more than I do, honey.” His face only grew hotter as he clocked your eyes lingering on the obvious tent in his jeans.

Finally speaking up again, Eddie chimed, “Seriously, man. Relax a little.”

In disbelief, Gareth faintly laughed out, “Right.” Dropping back down into the desk chair, he watched you and Eddie exchange a long look, almost like some form of confirmation. A check-in. He’d always admired how the two of you communicated so effortlessly. Frankly, he admired many facets of your relationship. He and Jeff had talked more than once about how they hoped they’d be lucky enough to find a connection like yours and Eddie’s. Still, he couldn’t believe you trusted each other enough for this– that you both trusted him enough for this.

Brain still cloudy with shock, he briefly glanced around his friend’s bedroom. Almost like he had to make sure he was really there. This was really happening. While Eddie was already attempting to peel your shorts off, you refused to assist him. Gareth’s fingers clutched at the arms of the chair as you graced him with your soft gaze instead. “You sure you’re not uncomfortable, Gare? You’re okay with this?”

Simply nodding dumbly in response, he was shocked when Eddie corrected him; “Use your words, Gareth.” He said it casually, but there was a subtle firmness behind it— one he wasn’t sure he had ever heard Eddie use before, especially toward him.

What shocked him more was the way he found his body tensing in response. Afraid the words wouldn’t come out, he sheepishly cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah, I’m good. Swear.” God, could his face flush any redder?

Your boyfriend finally forced you to lift your hips from the bed, allowing him to shove your shorts down your legs. His hands eased along your inner thighs, spreading your legs and hooking one of them over his to keep them open. Gareth was just barely able to make out the faint wet spot beginning to form on your underwear. He had to resist the urge to lean in for a closer look like some teenager watching his first porno. Eddie’s ever-wandering fingers eased over that wet spot, rubbing in soft circles around your clit.

Puffing out a soft breath from your nose, you sank further into his chest. “Feels good, huh, baby? All worked up already ‘n I’ve hardly even touched you. That excited to show off your pretty little pussy?”

“Eddieee,” You grumbled, trying again to hide your face in his chest.

“Don’t be so embarrassed, Gareth is even more excited than you are.” Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your underwear, he asked, “How ‘bout we give him some more to work with, hm?” Taking them off, he tossed them to his friend. Said friend was a goner. He blamed his crossfaded state of autopilot for the way he instantly lifted the material to his nose and took a deep breath. Eddie chuckled, “Told ya he was a perv.”

Gareth subtly palmed at his length, practically gnawing at his lower lip as he fought not to make a sound– God forbid he interrupt as Eddie spread your legs wide, giving him an unobstructed view of your dripping pussy. Fuck, he might as well have been drooling on the floor. He could hear your wetness as your boyfriend slipped his fingers between your slick-covered lips, easing around your clit a few times. Stuck in his glassy-eyed stare, he didn’t mean to let out a broken whimper as Eddie sank two fingers inside you.

Just as he was afraid of, the older boy instantly narrowed his gaze in his direction. “Oh, we’ve got our boy on the edge of his seat right now, baby. It’s okay, Gare. I know you’ve never seen anything like my girl before, you can take your cock out. Just keep your hands to yourself.”

The way Eddie spoke to him made his whole body blaze with shame, but he still found himself doing as he was told. When he looked at you again you were watching him fumble with his belt, button, and zipper. Finally freeing himself from the confines of his jeans, his cock twitched in his hand at the sight of the intrigue in your eyes, your tongue grazing across your lower lip. You clutched at Eddie’s bicep with a soft moan, walls clenching around his fingers.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Gettin’ all wet for my best friend’s dick?” His free hand grabbed your face, your cheeks squishing under his grip. “Didn’t know my sweet girl was that fuckin’ filthy.” You whined at the sudden emptiness as Eddie withdrew his hand from between your thighs, patting your leg with a soft murmur. “On your stomach, babe.” Obediently, you rolled over and he followed, kneeling behind you to grip your hips and lift them from the bed. “‘Atta girl.”

Your face warmed as you and Gareth looked at each other– you on your knees with your chest flush to the mattress and him with his pants just below his hips, his hand fisting his cock. Then Eddie’s fingers were knuckle-deep inside you again, curling into spots that only he had ever been able to find. Your hand shot back to grab at his thigh and you let out a surprised, gasping moan. “Daddy…”

While Gareth let out a quiet groan, Eddie just gave a low, condescending laugh. “Aw, sweetheart. I wasn’t even gonna tell ‘im. I didn’t wanna embarrass you too much, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Letting out little puffy breaths, your eyes welled with tears. Normally he would take this as an excuse to tease you further, but he didn’t want you getting too worked up with the added pressure of his friend’s presence. His hand rubbed soothingly over your back, “My little crybaby. It’s okay, Daddy’s here.” Your body relaxed, spine sinking deeper into its arch as his touch warmed your skin. “Would ya look at that?” Not that he had to ask; Gareth couldn’t stop looking. “She’s just such a sweet girl for me. Ain’t that right, baby? And so pretty. One of a kind, my girl.”

Taking in the scene before him, Gareth could only hope that wasn’t true. Because he wanted you– no, he wanted this. This thing, this passion and love that you two have for each other. Even as obscene a display as it was, he felt like he was witnessing something sacred, something holy. He was blessed further when Eddie brought you back to stand on your knees, your back to his chest as he lifted your shirt over your head.

Completely bare for both of them to gawk at, you were pointedly aware of your boyfriend’s fully clothed form behind you. He pinched teasingly at your nipple, making you arch further into him and grab at the hem of his shirt. Clawing for the skin just beneath it, you finally pleaded, “Take your clothes off.”

His eyes narrowed playfully; he just couldn’t help himself. “What do you say?”

“Please, Daddy,” You whined quietly with a pout.

With a quick wink and a crooked smirk, he crossed his arms to pull the ragged material over his head. You didn’t hesitate to seek out any inch of skin you could touch, a tremble licking down your spine as the soft warmth of his bare chest molded to it. Hands still pawing at your tits, his mouth worked its way down the length of your neck. “I love you,” He murmured against your shoulder, tone playful but still drenched in adoration.

“Love you more, Eddie.”

“Impossible,” He whispered in return before leaving one more kiss. “Now, back down.” Goosebumps erupted at the touch of his rings on your back, guiding you down until your chest met his bed once again. “Isn’t she such a good listener?”

Gareth was almost nervous to say anything– like any answer he gave could be the wrong one, and the wrong one might get the shit knocked out of him. So, why did his stomach tighten when Eddie looked at him expectantly for an answer? “So good.”

“Just wait til you hear how she sounds.” Eddie finally pushed his sweatpants down to his thighs, rubbing the head of his cock through your wetness and drawing a surprised gasp from you. “You ready for me, baby?”

“Yes,” You breathed out impatiently.

Finally sinking inside, he didn’t stop until his hips were flush with your ass. Gareth’s hand stilled, fingers tightened around the base of his length to keep from coming too soon. Each slow thrust pushed your hips forward, emphasizing the perfect arch of your back. Your eyebrows were furrowed slightly, but he could still hear your moans from behind the pillow you were clutching. That didn’t last long as your boyfriend laced a hand into your hair, pulling your head back just enough to uncover your mouth. “Don’t hide those pretty sounds, babe. We wanna hear ‘em.”

Eddie. His best friend, his brother, his mentor, his frontman, his dungeon master. He had never thought of Eddie like this. He had never seen Eddie like this. His frizzy curls falling out of the messy ponytail at the nape of his neck, tattoos on display, muscles in his arm flexing as he gripped your hair. Sure, he’d always thought he was a pretty good-looking guy, but now Gareth was beginning to wonder how he hadn’t thought about this before.

And the two of you together? Christ, you were a work of art. He wanted to frame this moment– capture it, bottle it, sear it into his brain so he’d remember every detail exactly as it was. The way the flesh of your thighs trembled with every movement, how Eddie’s sweat mixed with yours to make your skin glisten in the dim glow of the lamps, all of it made his body burn with need. Then Eddie was speaking again.

“God, you always feel so fucking good. My girl, made just f’me, huh?”

“Yes, Daddy,” You breathed out with a whimper. “Fuck, you’re s’deep.”

“I know, baby. I know,” He cooed sympathetically. “You c’n take it, though. Always do, don’t you?”

Gareth could see how your wetness further matted the dark hair around the base of Eddie’s length with every thrust, how the slick was just beginning to reach your thighs. Each moan you let out was more broken and drawn out than the last. That was until Eddie’s hand settled around your throat, urging you to lean back into him once more, and your moans turned to shaky, gasping whines. The ringed fingers of his other hand squeezed at your breast before mapping a path directly to your clit, circling it with practiced precision. With the way your stomach trembled in response, the boy didn’t think you’d last much longer.

He almost thought he’d spoken his thoughts aloud when Eddie asked, “Aw, you gettin’ close already? C’n feel it, baby. Having an audience really working you up that much?” He grasped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Knew you were my little freak, sweetheart, but c’mon. You’re just as dirty as me and Gare.” Gareth himself felt guilty with how your face crumpled in shame, but Eddie only smirked as he kissed your temple and inched his hand lower to squeeze at the sides of your throat. “It’s okay, baby. You’re bein’ such a good girl for Daddy. So, so good f’me. Just need you to come for me now.”

Red lines and crescent-shaped indents littered his arms as you uselessly pleaded for exactly what he was already giving you. Your head fell to the side only for you to lock eyes with Gareth, though he didn’t seem to be in much better shape than you were. The pale sliver of his chest that was visible had turned the same vibrant red his cheeks had been all night. His hand, fisted tightly around his cock, was moving in time with Eddie’s thrusts as arousal all but dripped over his knuckles. The sight ripped another shuddering moan from you.

Darkness encroached on the edges of your vision as Eddie finally felt your walls spasm around him. Your nails bit into his skin so hard it nearly broke, but it only encouraged him to hold you tighter as you tensed in his arms. “Fuck yes, there it is. Feel so fuckin’ good when you’re comin’ around me, sweetheart.”

“Eddie,” You cried, “Please. Come inside me, I need it.”

Though he tried to hold it back, a ragged groan tore itself from Gareth’s throat. Spurts of come stained his shirt as he fought to keep his eyes on the scene before him, but he couldn’t help but let his head fall back against the seat. He’d never felt so good. His veins were thrumming with weed and whiskey, so much so that the room still spun when he closed his eyes. But the pleasure still throbbing dully through his body like an ache wasn’t from the booze or the joints.

The blurriness cleared from his vision just in time to watch Eddie pull you in for a messy, desperate kiss. One hand cradled your jaw while the other clutched at your hip, pressing himself as deep inside of you as possible as he came.

Quiet sighs and pants filled the room as the three of you collectively caught your breath. Gareth just watched as you both melted into one another. Eddie’s palms soothed over every inch of your skin he could reach, and he whispered one last crazy idea in your ear– one that was somehow even crazier than the idea that had brought you all to this moment. Though the suggestion made your eyes widen and your stomach tie itself in a knot, the way you clenched around him in response compelled you to agree.

Carefully pulling out he planted one last kiss on your shoulder, allowing you to lay back against the pillows as he fixed his sweats and turned to his friend who still seemed to be recovering. “How ‘bout you come ‘n help me clean her up, Gare?”

The boy froze in his seat, length twitching where he’d tucked himself back into his unzipped jeans. “W-What?”

“Before I change my mind,” Eddie singsonged simply in return.

Limbs weak, he quickly stood from the desk chair, sending it knocking back into the desk. Hesitantly, his knee met the edge of the mattress and he looked between the two of you for reassurance.

“It’s okay, Gareth,” You murmured softly. “As long as you’re okay.”

“Did so good for us,” Eddie cooed in agreement. He stared as his drummer slowly knelt between his girlfriend’s spread thighs, fingers winding into the boy’s hair encouragingly. “Thought you deserved a little treat.”

Gareth’s heavy eyes fell shut when he finally had the taste of you– of both of you– on his tongue, lapping up your shared mess before sinking inside. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips and thighs as he mouthed urgently at your wetness. “Tastes so good,” He panted into your skin.

“What does?” Your boyfriend asked, giving his unruly locks a little tug. “Her come, or mine?”

He only moaned in answer, tongue laving over your abused clit.

It felt wrong, looking down and seeing someone else’s head between your legs, but it only made that coil in your stomach grow even tighter. “Fuck, Eddie.”

“Ah, ah, don’t be rude, baby. It’s not me this time. Let ‘im hear you say his name.”

A humiliated whine escaped you, as though admitting it aloud was more shameful than inviting him to do it in the first place. “Gareth,” You finally moaned out pitifully, your hand winding into his hair alongside Eddie’s. “You’re gonna make me come again.”

“Oh, he’d be fucking honored, babe,” Eddie chuckled smugly. Leaning over you, he left a slow, deep kiss on your lips before dipping lower to your breasts. His tongue teased at your nipple before his lips wrapped around it completely, calloused fingers finding the other. He only pulled back briefly to murmur, “Go on, sweetheart. Come for us.”

The feeling of two mouths, two sets of wandering hands, was overwhelming. Your thighs closed around Gareth’s head as your hands wound into both his hair and Eddie’s. He could feel your walls clench and your clit throb against his tongue and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He would’ve happily stayed there forever, drunkenly licking up every drop of tangy arousal that you released, but as your muscles began to twitch, Eddie gave one final pull to his hair that let him know his fun was over.

For a moment, it was quiet save for the low, bassy thrum of the music still playing. Then Eddie was up, grabbing a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweats and pressing them against Gareth’s chest for him to take. “You did good, Gare. Real good, alright?” He rubbed a hand over the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “Go ahead to the bathroom ‘n get cleaned up, ‘kay? We’ll get you settled in for the night.” Cheeks warm from the praise, Gareth just nodded, heading for the hallway while you and Eddie finally got a second alone. Gazing down at you, he brushed your hair back from your face, trying to read every facet of your expression. “Are you okay? I didn’t push you too hard, did I? That wasn’t too much?”

“No, Eds, I’m okay. I liked it, it was good.” You nodded reassuringly. Still, he raised an eyebrow questioningly, holding out his pinkie which you locked yours with. “Promise,” You whispered. “Are you sure Gareth’s okay, though? Things won’t be weird with him from now on?”

“No, baby, I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.” He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and grabbed you a bottle of water from the nightstand. “‘M gonna go make him a bed on the couch, alright? I’ll be right back.” You pouted out your lips for one last peck but let him go out to the living room while you gingerly got up to put clothes on.

Eddie was spreading a blanket over the couch when Gareth finally came out of the bathroom. On the table beside him sat a bag of chips, a bottle of water, and a couple of Tylenol. Sitting down, he patted the space to his left and asked, “You okay? I should’a talked to you both more before I dove into all that, I’m sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologize–” He took a much-needed drink of water and shook his head. “Trust me, I-I had…I had a great time. And I won’t make things weird, or like– tell anybody, I swear. I’m sure it’ll all be fuzzy in the morning anyway. Did you guys…?”

“We had fun, man, don’t sweat it.”

“Oh, we definitely had fun,” You agreed as you joined them. You settled on Gareth’s other side, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Thanks for being so cool about everything, I don’t think we could’ve trusted the other guys with something like this.”

“Well, thank you for trusting me,” He answered gratefully.

“My right-hand man,” Eddie reminded him as he stood, clapping a hand over his shoulder.

You playfully rolled your eyes at the sentiment, but kept a good-natured smile as you leaned over to peck the boy’s cheek. “Get some sleep, alright? Sweet dreams, Gare.”

As if anything could be sweeter than the taste of the two of you still lingering on his tongue when he closed his eyes and drifted off.

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815 notes · View notes

coryosbaby · 3 months

Text

18+, MDNI !! specific hair type mentioned

Js thinkin’ about Drug dealer! Trailer trash! Anakin…

I can imagine you’re outside smoking a cigarette in your pretty pink nightgown, curlers all pinned up, your fluffy house shoes pressing against the damp summer ground. You’re sitting down on the front steps of your trailer as you listen to Anakin and Padmē argue over and over. So much for a smoke break.

But then, with one last mean remark, Anakin is slamming his screen door and barreling down the steps in anger. Tattoos all over his arms, wearing jeans and no shirt or shoes…nipple piercings on full display. He stands in the grass and tries to calm himself down.

Your face flushes with heat as you see him, and you turn your head as if you hadn’t noticed him there. But his eyes lock on you, and he calms a bit. Hes always had a soft spot for you, his pretty young neighbor. Always chasing away creeps and helping you carry in your groceries, selling you pot that isn’t laced (‘you can’t trust the crackheads in this fuckin’ trailer park. Come to me if you ever need any shit like that, okay?’). You can’t deny the crush you’ve had on him for the longest time. You guess you’re just like your momma in that way— always going after men old enough to be your dad, men that you shouldn’t ever associate with. Men that are bad news.

Anakin sighs, jeans hanging low on his hips, and you try not to drool.

“Did you hear all of that?”

You give him a shy, timid smile. You awkwardly shuffle on your feet.

“A little. I’ve only been out here for five minutes, though.”

He hums, his eyes moving down to the cigarette in your manicured hand.

“Can I bum one?”

You nod, and the man walks over the short distance between your houses and sits down beside you. He smells like cologne, sweat, and a little bit of alcohol. Not in a bad way, though. It makes you practically dizzy with want, your thighs prsssing together as he lets out a small “thanks, dollface” as he reaches into your nightgown pocket and pulls out your half empty pack of Marlboros. He lights up, smoke billowing out of his nostrils as he exhales and leans back against your screen door.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I try not to yell, but..”

He shakes his head, as if it isn’t worth discussing. You knee bumps against his, and you shrug.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

His shoulders relax, his ring clad fingers skimming your thigh. He give you an amused smile as he sees the curlers in your hair.

“About to go to bed, grandma?”

You roll your eyes at his teasing, taking a long drag.

“Yeah, actually.”

“Mmm..” His hand comes up to your face, stroking the soft skin of your cheek. Your eyes widen, a flush coating your cheeks. “It’s cute, y’know. The way you always wear your hair like this at night.”

You struggle to find words, your lips parting with every breath. Anakin’s eyes light up, as if remembering something, and he reaches into his pocket.

“You still smoke?” He asks, a baggy of weed now in his palm. You say yes because it’s true, and invite him inside your house.

And of course, it isn’t long before he’s got you whining for him. A joint and a half later, your pussy is spread out on his cock as he takes you against your bedroom wall. He doesn’t fuck you on your bed— he says it’s hotter this way, taking you so desperately. He fills you up damn near perfectly, his face buried into your neck as he holds you up with his strong arms.

All the while, your curlers are falling out, house shoes halfway off your toes, your nightgown lifted up and slightly ripped from his roughness. Your loose, unfinished curls stick against your forehead as he pummels you, and he practically laughs in your face.

“Oh, baby,” he says. “Hair’s so messy, ‘s fuckin’ adorable.”

You cry from embarrassment, drooling all over his lips when he pulls you into a wet ‘n messy kiss. Your fingers card through his dyed black locks, lashes fluttering when he thumbs your clit.

“Oh!” You let manage to let out, slick pooling as you cream on his cock. “Ani, ani, feel s’ good…”

“Yeah?” He breathes, with jagged thrusts into your weeping cunt. “Cmon, dollface. Let the whole trailer park hear you. That’s my fuckin’ girl.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

creds to @fuckmyskywalker for this amazing idea 🩷🩷

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#anakin Skywalker #anakin Skywalker x reader #anakin Skywalker x fem! reader #anakin skywalker x bimbo! reader #trailer trash! Anakin Skywalker #anakin Skywalker smut #dom! anakin Skywalker #Hayden Christensen #anakin Skywalker fanfic #anakin Skywalker blurb #anakin Skywalker Drabble #James Kelly #Star Wars

763 notes · View notes

cosmicanakin · 3 months

Text

hazy bliss.

adult content | minors do NOT interact

pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.

outline. after a long week apart, vinnie's weed stash and his kisses melts away any stress.

contains. smoking, marijuana, smut, fingering, heavy use of pet names ( princess baby pretty girl etc ), overstimulation, aftercare.

authors note. have yall seen the videos of vinnie in milan for the prada show???? lord have merthyyyyy. he looked so fucking YUMMY with his slutty itty bitty waist. anywayyyy! here's another vinnie + smoking sesh fic as promised ;)

you've been busy with work all week and haven't gotten to see your boyfriend vinnie for almost a full seven days. and it's definitely been taking its toll on both of you. so late last night you sent him a text asking if he had any weed left and wanted to come over after his long day of filming for a smoke sesh, knowing it would help relax you both.

waking up this morning to a text from him saying he was on his way over lifted your spirits instantly. you tidied up your place as quickly as possible, putting on some lowkey music in the background to get in a chill mood. just as you finished fluffing the blankets and pillows on your couch, you heard the doorbell ring.

bounding over excitedly, you swung it open to reveal your handsome boyfriend standing there holding a backpack and wearing his signature beanie pulled low over his messy curls. "hey baby," he greets with a grin, eyes lighting up upon seeing you. you throw your arms around his neck in a tight squeeze, inhaling his familiar woodsy cologne you've missed so much.

"i'm so glad you're here," you mumble into his hoodie, feeling vinnie's arms come around your waist to hold you close. after a long moment he pulls back to press a lingering kiss to your lips with a contented hum. "me too, pretty girl. i've been craving your company all week." taking his hand, you lead vinnie inside to the living room.

sitting him down on the plush couch, you rummage through the bag for the goods as vinnie kicks off his shoes to get comfortable. you grab his grinder and roll up a fresh joint, handing it to him along with the lighter. leaning back against your boyfriend's broad chest with a pleased sigh, you let vinnie spark the flame and take the first hit before passing it to you.

inhaling deeply, you hold it in as usual before blowing billowing smoke up toward the ceiling with a happy sigh. your body starts melting into vinnie automatically, feeling his arms come around your middle to hold you close as you pass the blunt between you. you chat lazily about everything and nothing, catching up on the mundane details of your days apart.

time slips away as the weed helps dull your mind and heavy lids start drooping, relaxation seeping into stressed muscles. a comfortable silence settles over you both as vinnie thumbs gently at your waist under your shirt, lips pressing lazy kisses into your hair. you set the blunt aside on the coffee table, content for the moment to simply exist here wrapped in his embrace.

a light shiver runs through your body from the pleasant tingles washing over you from vinnie's tender caresses. you can feel his growing interest pressing into your lower back, eliciting a low hum of approval. tilting your head back against his broad shoulder, you meet vinnie's lidded gaze before leaning up to capture his parted lips slowly.

his hands slide up under your top to glide appreciatively over sensitized skin, igniting sparks wherever he explores. vinnie's mouth moves to leave open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck, evoking breathy sighs of pleasure. "i've missed you so much, y/n," he rumbles against your flushed skin. you eagerly help him tug your top off before attacking his hoodie zipper.

with eager hands you undress each other down to bare skin, exploring familiar planes with renewed fervor after your long absence. vinnie's tongue swipes expertly at taut nipples, taking his time lavishing them until you're panting and squirming in his lap. his thick length prods teasingly at your slick entrance, making you whimper and rock down desperately to take more of him.

vinnie stills your hips with strong hands and kisses along your chest tattoos adoringly. "slow down, baby. we've got all night," he purrs, eyes dark with longing. you nod shakily, threading your fingers through his dark curls and urging his mouth back to yours hungrily. vinnie shifts to lift you easily, legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom.

gently laying you out among the rumpled sheets, vinnie settles between your thighs, palms caressing worshipfully up your curves. you seize handfuls of blanket on either side anxiously waiting for his next touch to drive you mad. his fingers tease your dripping cunt for torturous moments before two long digits slide smoothly inside. you keen helplessly at the fullness, walls fluttering needily around him.

vinnie pumps his fingers leisurely, stretching your entrance as his thumb toys with your swollen clit. "fuck baby, you feel so good around me," he praises earnestly, eyes trained intently on your writhing form coming undone below him. every flick and curl sends waves of ecstasy crashing through your body until you feel yourself tumbling over the edge with a cry, walls clamping down in a pulsing rhythm.

your boyfriend leans up to kiss you sweetly through your quaking orgasm, savoring your blissed expression of euphoria. vinnie speeds up his ministrations to keep you hovering on the edge. then stops to position his thick length at your oozing entrance, eyes locking onto yours sincerely.

"i love you so much, princess," vinnie whispers before gradually sliding into your welcoming heat. you gasp in unison, his girth stretching you deliciously full once more. a few heartbeats pass adjusting to the intimate joining as vinnie showers your face in tender kisses, worshipping your beauty. when you nod, he pulls back slowly only to sink deeper with agonizing precision.

building a powerful rhythm, vinnie gives you every inch as his hips roll expertly, angling to hit that sweet spot with each pass. you moan wantonly into the slick skin of his shoulder, nails raking down broad shoulders and back sure to leave marks. the drag of your walls milking his length expertly pushes vinnie closer to the edge much too soon in his lust-filled state.

his fingers find your pearl swollen and straining once more, rapidly working it towards another euphoric fall. vinnie's breath hitches and stutters out in coarse grunts as he feels your orgasm crashing in, dragging his own release by the hair. "come for me sweet girl," he growls in your ear, hips snapping sharply a few more times before stilling buried deep as his release hits hard.

vinnie trembles and shakes through his high, fingers still methodically working your cunt until you're mindlessly keening and thrashing from overstimulation. he lets you ride out what seems your third or fourth high of the night against his heaving chest, worshipping your sweat-slick form with gentle caresses and sweet nothings murmured into your hair.

once you both come down from cloud nine, vinnie lifts you easily in his arms to carry you over to your en-suite bathroom for a shower. he washes you tenderly from head to toe, rinsing sweat from your sated muscles now jelly-like and replete. after drying off, he bundles you in fresh fluffy towels, kissing along your damp shoulder lazily before you head to bed for well-earned rest.

sliding under cool sheets, you curl into vinnie's waiting arms, forehead pressed to his as you smile contentedly. "i love you so much, vinnie. thank you for coming over to relax with me," you murmur tenderly. vinnie beams, cupping your cheek to plant his signature kiss to your lips softly. "no where else i'd rather be, princess. you're the best medicine to all my stress."

drifting off peacefully wrapped in your boyfriend's tender embrace, you know he'll be by your side through anything as long as you have each other. nothing washes worries away quite like vinnie's unconditional love and care shown through gentle intimacy. you've missed him terribly all week but now drifting off sated in his arms, you know nothing could tear you apart.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚#vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinniehacker #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x female reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker headcannons #vinnie hacker x y/n #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie imagine #vinnie smut #vinnie angst

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sprout-fics · 6 months

Text

Rotes Mädchen: Chapter 9 (Final)

(Werewolf! König x Red Riding Hood! Reader)

(Art by the lovely @zwienzixes)

(Masterlist)

Word count: 5.7k Rating: Mature Tags: Werewolf! König, Fairytale AU, Monster Hunters TF141, Witch Laswell, Traditional German Fairytale setting, World Building/Lore, F! Reader, Mating/Claiming Bites, Werewolf reveal, Chase and takedown, Happy ending Warnings: None A/N: Thank you to everyone who supported this series. I'm so immensely grateful to everyone who provided inspiration, encouragement, and support for this story. I'm so proud to be finished. Thank you so much.

Once more into the woods you run.

The glow of the village has long since faded behind you, the shouts and cries of the villagers as they ready themselves for the incoming devastation a mere echo through the trees. The wind muffles it, whispering through dry branches of sinister shadows and creatures that lurk within the groves around you. The breeze ruffles your skirt, tosses your scarlet cape across your form. Far above the canopy, the smoke from the burning wreckage of your home billows into the sky. The gentle, yellow light of the full moon now drips red from the fire, casting a hazy, crimson curse against the forest below.

It washes over your form as you turn your face to the sky, look to the moon which hangs as a deathly omen to all that gaze upon it. You wait for the towering figure of a wolf to rise far above the branches, to open its jaw and take the moon between its dripping fangs. Ink dark clouds roil before it, and in them you see the eyes of the beast threatening to stare back at you. They pin you where you stand, stare down through the trees and echo a growl to the rising wind.

The forest once felt like an ally to you. Now, it sets to betray you.

Konig is here, somewhere, amidst the trees. Feverish and dazed as he is, he couldn’t have gotten far from the village. Yet in the darkness, where you can scarcely see a few steps ahead of you, it’s impossible to find any tracks to lead you forward. Instead, your voice rises high to the heavens in a desperate bid to summon him to you.

“Konig!!”

It feels like it hardly carries above the wind that rakes through the trees, rustling leaves across the darkened path before awash in malevolent scarlet from the light of the moon. Your voice cries out through the trees as a wailing call, a tearful attempt to find the man who had held you in his arms and whispered endless devotions.

You don’t understand. Why did he leave, when you begged him not to? When he swore he’d stay, when he had asked you if you’d ever walk out of the woods beside him?

Was it all just a lie?

The forest holds all secrets. Now, it holds him away from you as well.

You make your way forward quietly, knowing you are far from alone in these woods. The threat of the beast within remains, and inside your thoughts the sonorous echo of his ominous howl reverberates in an endless omen. The memory of the towering, monstrous thing from the first night the witchers had come upon these woods has haunted you all this time.

Taller than any man, a huge, lumbering thing. Its arms too long, ears standing atop its furry head, huge spine hunched forward as a pair of gleaming, yellow eyes gaze at you from the trees. Fangs snarl at you in the confines of your mind, and you feel yourself caught between yellowed teeth as the thing crunches down in a killing blow. You think for a moment you hear the sounds of it giving chase above the rapid echo of your own terror, and despite yourself you venture a gaze behind you as Price’s horse thunders down the misty midnight path towards the safety of the village.

You see just a glimpse of it from beyond your fluttering red cape, a shadow that dwarfs your thoughts, a gaze that fixates on you from afar, seeming to promise ‘Soon, little maiden. Soon.’

Soon. You knew this entire time you would come to face the beast. A premonition lurked within you like a fawn disguised amongst the brambles, concealed and fragile, waiting for a thing you could not see. Trembling, it hid from shadows, blinked at the moving figures above, listening to the growl that prowled in search of your quivering form.

You thought you’d have more time.

Now, with the blood moon rising, the wind carrying the sound of your voice in a desperate cry, the darkness swallowing you whole, you fling yourself towards that violent fate. You run forward as panic mounts within you, feet thudding against the cold earth as you search for the soul of your beloved.

He’s here, you can feel it. You know you’ll find him, throw yourself into his arms and dry your face against his shirt as his arms close protectively around you. Somehow, you’ll find yourself facing the wolf together, finding a way forward as you both have vowed. Escape, or death, as long as he holds his hand in yours.

A howl splits the sky.

It begins as a low note and rises to full pitch just as goosebumps erupt across your skin in terror. The sound is deafening. It feels like it’s all around you with no discernible source, calling out your name as a herald of your demise. The howl shakes the ground below your feet, feels like it cracks the earth so you fall down into the endless forest, the branches closing above you as an inescapable prison.

You feel your chest rising unevenly, limbs shaking and breath curling away from you in a gasping billow of air. Terror roots you to where you stand, stifles your voice so the utterance of his name is a mere whisper.

“Konig.”

He said he’d protect you. He said he’d stay.

You knew you tasted lies on his tongue when you kissed him.

Yet you refuse to release him without giving chase.

You run forward once more, the apocalyptic red of the moon radiating off your scarlet cape, dyeing your figure the color of blood. The color of your inescapable fate.

Please. You beg the gods who do not listen. Let me see him. One more time. Let me kiss him and whisper words there even as I’m devoured.

Once more into the woods you run.

Shadows dance at the edge of your vision, and you spin towards them, eyes wild as you try to find Konig, the creature amongst them.

“Konig!!” You call again, listening for his answering call. You flee deeper into the woods, praying that with your next step you don’t find a mangled corpse at your feet.

Yet in the light of the moon, what you find instead is just as horrifying.

Fabric waves in the wind from a sapling that bends to the breeze, and as you near you catch it between your hands.

A dark, poorly sewn covering. The hood he used to cover his face.

Yet there’s no bloodstains, no indication of injury. Almost as if he had torn it from his figure himself. You gaze down at it, fingers tracing the seams, eyes not understanding. Had he shed it in his fevered state, full of delusions?

It doesn’t matter. He’s close, you can tell. Once more, you raise your voice to the rising wind in a cry for him.

“Konig!!”

Yet in the echo of your call, the woods fall ominously silent. The whisper of winter on the wind stills to a quiet hush, tickling the edge of your cape before it falls into stillness. The sway of the trees gently wavers to a halt, and even the clouds above seem to pause in their journey across the sky. The forest holds its breath, allowing the drum of your heartbeat to pulse too loud in your ears.

In the soundless woods around you, you feel an awareness prickle sharp across your neck, racing down your spine in acute realization.

You’re being watched.

Then, a growl.

Fear pulses in tandem with the icy rush of blood in your veins, chest compression the air in your chest into a silent, trembling breath. The low, grinding sound of the growl reverberates ceaselessly in your thoughts, echoing there with the sound you heard so long ago, on the day you began to be plagued by nightmares of the hulking, towering figure that haunts the woods.

You turn in slow motion, limbs shaking, eyes wild and unblinking. You feel as if you move through water, and even as something pulses inside you to run, RUN! you can’t seem to make yourself flee. You remain grounded to the spot, the roots of your feet extended deep into the earth and planting you where you stand. Instead you’re forced to turn to gaze upon the thing that you know will be your destiny.

You expect a shadow, a hulking mass the same as the one you saw in the woods that night. Yet instead the first thing you see is the eyes, the pair of glowing, golden orbs that stare at you from the trees that arch above your trembling form.

Yet then the thing rises, its front paws leaving the earth as it grows taller, taller. With every heartbeat you watch as the beast ascends to its full height, the golden eyes rising through the branches, seemingly past the canopy. An ancient, primordial terror seizes inside you as the monster dwarfs you with its massive size, centuries of instinct bred into your veins by your ancestors to fear the thing before you, to regard it with such terror it urges you to flee to the end of the earth just to avoid its killing bite.

The werewolf raises its muzzle up into the sky just as the clouds part, reddened light streaming through and alighting the creature in the blood red drip of the sky above. It parts its jaws in a snarl, claws extended outwards to reveal the muscle in its arms and torso, fangs gleaming in the ruby glow that makes scarlet ooze from its mouth as it parts-

and howls a catastrophic omen to the heavens.

You will yourself to cover your ears, but your fists remain at your side, one hand still gripping the fabric of the man you may never see again. Instead, your eyes remain locked on the werewolf that towers far above you, with such monstrous height and size you think it may devour you whole.

He can swallow the moon. You think with such stomach-turning dread that every other thought within you sucks into petrified silence.

I’m going to die.

It’s that thought that finally releases you.

You’re sprinting away before you can process the ground moving under your feet, boots thudding against the earth as you fling yourself further into the trees. The long note of the beast’s howl trails after you, dimming to nothingness as the wind rises once more, as your own heaving breaths muffle every other sound in the world around you.

RUN.

You weave deftly between the branches and trunks of the trees around you, your smaller size an advantage to the monster’s lumbering stature. The forest reveals itself to you at last, seems to part before you as you hurl yourself in an unknown direction, a bloodied path with a fatal end. The trees swallow you, try vainly to hide you within their depths as you feel the earth thud, and the monster finally gives chase.

You suck in air desperately, chest compressing in dangerous hyperventilation as you flee. You can’t stop it, you don’t even try, knowing every single moment could be your last. Legs pumping, you try to remember which way you came, trying to remember the dips of brooks and streams, of crags to hide yourself in, the way back in the direction of town in a vain bid to lure the beast into the swords of the hunters there.

Yet in your chest a single word echoes out in a deafening prayer, a scream for rescue towards the one who vowed to protect you.

“KONIG!!”

The beast follows behind you, and you feel the ground shaking under your feet as it closes the distance, tearing trees like branches as it carves a path forward towards your fleeing form. You hear the crack of wood- the sound of an ax hammering through trunks, felling ancient oaks just to taste the warm drip of your blood against its fangs. Each step it takes trembles the earth like a war drum, every beat within your chest feels like the moments ticking until the jaws seize about form, crushing you in half as your scream fills with scarlet-

PLEASE!! You shriek vainly towards the gods, tears filling your eyes with the futility of this chase, knowing it only ends one way. ONCE MORE. LET ME SEE HIM JUST ONCE MORE.

The moon stares balefully down upon your crimson clad form. Silent, imminent, unavoidable since before the day this story began.

Your cape snags against a bramble of thorns, and at the speed you launch yourself with the tie around your neck chokes the air from your lungs. You tug frantically at the fabric, hearing it tear as you rip yourself free, casting a single glance over your shoulder at the thing behind you.

It’s several long strides away, once more on all fours, steam streaming from its dripping maw as it pants and gives chase. Paws the size of your head impact the earth, drumming a rhythm there that screams higher with the pulse between your ribs. The golden eyes trace you as you stumble in your terror, promising a fatal bite that grows closer with every passing second.

You’ll never outrun it.

You try desperately to think past the veil of all consuming fear within, trying to find a solution, a way out, a path forward further into the woods so deep it cannot find you.

The solution comes before you can fully consider it. In the darkness, you don’t see the dip of the stream bank ahead of you. You yelp as you fall forward, unintentionally launching yourself into the water below. It’s not so deep it covers you fully, but the sudden shock of the cold brook manages to steal the air from your lungs as you raise yourself up with shaking limbs. The deafening huff of the beast is just beyond you, and in blind terror you lurch forward once more.

Yet the forest, in all its secrets, offers you a hidden enclave, a shelter. Your hand finds the deep swell of a space between the rocks, damp and shadowed, a space just large enough to fit yourself into. Your chest heaves in gasping breaths as you cram yourself into it, allowing the rocks to swallow you. It’s in his memory, you think, remembering the way you found Konig curled into the same hollow between the trees and rocks, eyes terrified and somehow hopeful as he once reached for you.

He could be already dead. Devoured by the wolf, and with you never having the chance to say goodbye.

Yet you stifle your tears as the werewolf pounces into the stream with a throat tearing snarl, snuffling along the bank’s edge in an effort to trace your scent. You pray that your fall into the water has erased the smell of your fear it uses to follow you, that the shadows of your small enclave conceal you enough to avoid the gaze of its glowing, golden eyes.

You can hear the monster splashing in the stream, growling in frustration as it tries and fails to detect you, nose lifting to the wind to catch your scent. It barks in growing anger, the sound full of ire, grinding deep in its throat. You shiver in the darkness, frigid, wet, shaking from head to toe in your fear. You force yourself to try and not even breathe, for fear the monster will somehow hear that too. You wish in a futile prayer for the moon to set, for the sun to rise and the monster once more to fade into the trees, away from your terrified form huddled into the embankment.

Please. Please. Please. Go away. Just go. Please.

The monster howls towards the sky once more in an angered cry, and the sound shakes the earth under you, seems to echo off the rocks that ensconce your form. The whimper that bubbles up your throat is muffled by the roar, and you shift to gather your cape tighter around you as if it somehow offers a shield of protection.

Then, the world goes silent.

You’re clenched so tight you almost don’t notice at first, eyes scrunched shut and figure curling in on itself as much as the space will allow. A sob clings to the back of your throat, and you will it through sheer force into silence unless it betrays you. Yet the huff and growl of the monster beyond you has vanished. The stream babbles gently in its absence, a soft, almost soothing sound paired with the rustle of trees far above.

You wait a long breath, wait longer for your heart to begin to still before you allow your shoulders to drop, your eyes to open.

Only to stare into the golden gaze of the werewolf.

You scream, and scream louder as a claw snags the edge of your cape, allowing the monster to drag you from your shelter.

“NO. NO!!” You shriek, struggling as the thing parts its jaws in a sinister snarl. Your hands work frantically at the tie around your collar, fingers fumbling as you fall onto your side, the impact rattling the air from your heaving chest.

Somehow, you manage to free yourself, and as the monster plucks the red fabric of your cape between its fangs, you miraculously manage to dart under one of its massive legs and fling yourself up the slope of the embankment. You claw at branches and roots, fingers digging at dirt as you somehow haul yourself up onto solid ground once more. Yet you have not a moment of relief, not as the monster quickly realizes your ruse and gives chase once more.

You cry as you flee, trying to remember the sacraments for the dead as the warm breath of the monster falls upon your nape, quickly closing the distance behind you. A sob tears from your throat, and the memory of your beloved’s gentle embrace, his kisses and devotions provide no shelter from the monster that pursues you.

A swipe to your legs is all it takes to send you tumbling, ground rushing up to greet you harshly. Yet even then you try to struggle away, crawling forward, your eyes streaming with tears. The monster looms above you, uses a mere ounce of strength to flip you onto your back, pin you beneath a single, massive paw.

“Konig.” You sob, vainly trying to dislodge the weight above you, a futile effort as the wolf lowers its maw towards your weak and prone form. A growl reverberates all the way from its chest down into the marrow of your being, and it once more forces a wordless cry as you’re pressed helplessly into the earth.

The werewolf stares down at you, muzzle bunched in a snarl as it lowers its muzzle closer towards the soft, tender arch of your throat. The bite from Konig remains there, and you sob as you remember the words he whispered as he engraved a claiming mark into your flesh.

"Rotty." He growls again, voice deeper, somehow feral. "My Rotty."

Wild, somehow, as he’d held you, barely able to restrain the savageness inside him that seemed more creature than man.

You blink, lips parting, breath caught in your throat as somehow the forest reveals all things kept secret within its depths, at last allowing you to glimpse upon the truth held within the both of you all this time.

The bite mark on his leg. The trap that had been laid by the witchers that had caught the hock of the wolf. The strange disappearance of the monster as you’d sheltered a stranger in your home. His disgust with the scent of wolfsbane on your palms. The interest in his stare that offered a silent watchfulness, an unwavering focus like the lurking gaze of a predator from the woods. The glint of his golden yellow eyes is the same color as the stare above you.

“The wolf won’t hurt you, Rotty. I promise. I’ll protect you.”

“Konig.” You whisper in awed realization, watching as the monster opens its jaws to descend ever so slowly towards your throat.

He left you. He was trying to protect you. Protect you from himself.

He is the wolf from your nightmares.

and somehow, the man from your daydreams.

“It was you.” You whisper, tears still streaming but somehow not afraid, breath released in a sigh as you grow limp under the grasp of the beast above you. “It was always you.”

The pale light of the moon falls upon your open, tender gaze even as warm breath huffs across your skin in the promise of a killing bite.

The words of Laswell, the words you didn’t understand, now unwind themselves in the prophecy of which she spoke.

Laswell holds you, hands clinging tightly to the cape she once bestowed upon you as a gift of her affection towards you.

“There’s one more thing.” She tells you, and in her voice you hear prophecy, the magic she keeps in careful concealment. It winds around you like brambles, a protection for the soul inside you striving towards something you’ve desired all your life, something which remains so close and just out of reach, residing in the woods you’ve always called home.

Laswell gathers you to her, and whispers words in your ear you don’t yet understand, holds you tight like she would a daughter.

“The only way to stop a werewolf.” She speaks to you in a voice that speaks of prophecy. “Is for his name to be echoed thrice by the voice of his beloved.”

Teeth scrape against the flesh of your throat. Your arms raise around the neck of the monster, embracing him so you nuzzle your cheek into his pelt. You drink in the scent of him- familiar, earthy, a touch of smoke from the warm billow of your hearth, and within it the breath of something forever wild and untamed. There, you whisper the final sacrament to this story of yours in a beloved sigh of complete and total surrender.

“Konig.”

The werewolf above you freezes, teeth closed gently around your neck, not yet drawing blood.

You close your eyes, turning your head ever go gently, and press a kiss into his fur.

“Let’s walk out of these woods, together.”

It’s still for a moment, the whisper of the wind through the trees hushing unspoken words onto both your forms, the forest waiting, holding its breath for what comes next.

The creature above you makes a sound, something caught between a growl and a voice, and in it you hear the name he has bestowed upon you.

“Rotty.”

His fangs relinquish their hold on you, drawing back at the same time the paw that pins you withdraws, his form shifting, changing. You watch in awe as the monster before you transforms, fur growing inwards, the bulk of his massive frame folding. His animalistic features retreat from snarling fangs and outstretched claws to human features, shoulders shortening, limbs thinning, until at last the form of a man appears underneath. Konig bows under the transformation, body wracking with a deep shudder as his bones fold themselves back into place, skin knitting so his wolfish features disappear.

At last the pale flesh of his form is revealed, and Konig gasps hoarsely as he falls forward, arms buckling under him so he flops onto your form.

You reach out and catch him, feel the air rush from your lungs as the exhausted weight of him presses down on you. Your hands wrap around his neck, shoulders, and you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, whispering comforts there as he shivers.

“Rotty.” He manages again, voice now absent of the feral growl. Instead he whimpers, broken and desperately relieved, forcing strength into his arms so they wrap around you in turn. “Rotty...I-”

“Shh.” You hush him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’re safe. I’m alright. We’re okay.”

Konig shivers again, hiccups a small, sorrowful sound into your shoulder.

“I tried to save you.” He rasps. “I knew if I stayed that-”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “I...nearly killed you.”

“I know.” You tell him, a hand reaching up to pet at his hair. “I saved you.”

Konig nuzzles deeper into you with a trembling sigh, hauls you closer to him. “How did you...?”

You smile, staring up at the moon. For the first time, you notice that the red haze of smoke from the village is dissipating, leaving behind a gentle, pale yellow that bathes you both.

“A friend.” You confess. “Someone who had faith in me.”

Konig is still for a moment, before he at last rises off you, bracing himself on his elbows so her hovers just above your face. Without his hood, you see his features for the first time. A strong jaw, a tickling of a beard, a slightly crooked nose, long dark hair that drapes across his forehead and neck, and...

You blink, fingers coming up to trace the corner of his mouth.

Sharp canines that speak of something other than human.

“What sharp teeth you have.” You murmur softly, expression softening, and you watch in awe as Konig’s face pinches, tears welling into his eyes.

“Rotty.” He sobs, ducking his head. “Rotty, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean, I never-”

You watch him, transfixed by this new myriad of expressions you’re witnessing for the first time, lips parting in wonder. The words inside you escape before you can stop them.

“You’re so...beautiful.” You whisper, watching as his eyes shoot up towards yours, shocked. You can only offer a tender smile, a sweet and beloved reassurance as your hand traces his cheek in a loving gesture.

“I love you.” He tells you, barely audible, as if he’s almost scared to say it, scared of his devotion towards you. It clenches something tight in your chest, and you feel your own expression finally crumple, warmth flooding your eyes once more.

You stretch up, press your lips to him in a chaste contact, and whisper there the words you’ve wished so desperately to say this entire time.

“I love you, Konig.”

He shudders at the sound of your breathless confession, and gently grazes his lips against yours, as if he can taste the words there.

“Beloved Rotty.” He murmurs, and bends at last to kiss you.

You press into him eagerly, head falling back onto the earth as he chases you, mouth slanting against yours with a sigh. Your hand raises to tangle in his hair, and it solicits a groan from him, deep and cavernous like the wolf he is inside. You feel his teeth bite at your lip, fangs scraping across the plush skin. You shudder at the pure possessiveness with which he kisses you, as if to remind himself that you’re whole, his, only ever his. His Rotty. His beloved. His mate.

You whisper his name once more and allow him to devour you whole.

---

The sun rises gently over the village.

In Laswell’s quiet cottage, pale morning light seeps through the windows, and washes over her in a soft, dove gray that catches the color of her eyes. She gathers her things, collects her belongings and prepares herself for the long journey that is about to come.

In her hands, a letter.

Dearest Kate,

I’m safe, but you probably knew that when you saw this.

I’ve decided to leave the village, and my guess is so have you.

I have someone to go with, but I think you knew that too.

We’ll be fine, don’t you worry. I’ll find a way to visit soon.

Just not yet. I hope you can explain to Price and the others

what has happened. I hope they’ll understand, and that

someday I can see them again. Give them my love.

Tell them I understand why they did what they did in

hiding the truth from me. I know they were trying to

protect me, and I don’t hold it against them.

I have someone to protect as well, and he’s going to

protect me too. We have each other, and I’m more

happy than I can write here.

You had faith in me. You always have. You knew

that only I could break this curse, and even at the

risk of my own life you believed in me. Without you,

I would have lived a life of heartache. Thank you for

saving me from that. Know that I will find a way to

see you soon, and until then I hope you are happy,

and well, and safe.

With all my love,

Red...and Konig

Laswell stares down at the paper with sad, fond eyes. There’s a bitter sweetness to her smile, a happiness that is stifled only by your absence. She comforts herself with your words, with your promise to come see her once more. Yet she’s glad to watch you leave, as if observing a fledgling lark take flight for the first time and ascend far above the trees, into the blue sky. There will be a time when you come back to nest into her arms, and she trusts for the day to come soon when she can embrace you as the daughter you are to her.

A knock on the door. She turns, taking in the weary, grieving form of Price as he stands on the threshold.

“It’s time.” He tells her, voice mournful, muted. Laswell tilts her head, smiles at him before gesturing to him inside. He stands at her side, brow bunched in dismay, and she turns to him, cups his face in fond familiarity.

“John.” She murmurs. “I have something to tell you.”

---

The wind rushes past your ears as you fly across the earth, hands gripped tight to the beast that moves under you. Fur tangles between your fingers, and you use it to brace yourself with every powerful roll of shoulders that carries you forward. Warm, panting breaths huff into the growing winter air, steam billowing from the creature’s mouth as his paws thunder against the ground. You cling to him as he runs, the crimson of your cape streaming out behind you like a bloodstain.

You look to the sky, where the sun rises above a clear, pale blue, and the moon nestles softly beyond the horizon- waiting, silent, until it rises once more. The vast expanse of azure you were never able to fully see extends endlessly out before you as you’re carried far above the tree line, into the mountains, and away from the village you once called home. Instead, your eyes take in the never-ending forest below, and gaze further up into the misty slopes wherein you will plant new roots for you and him.

The beast under you slowly trots to a halt amidst a fern lined grove, glances at you over a single massive shoulder with golden eyes. You stroke through his dark fur before sliding from his back onto solid earth once more. As you do, the wolf rises and shifts, bones shifting inwards until Konig is at last revealed with a soft sigh. He stands bare beside you as you toe the edge of the cliff to take in the view below. The smoke from the village can no longer be seen, well behind you now as you travel towards the future. The changing colors of fall have begun to fade, and you shiver at the thought of the long winter that’s yet to come.

Konig loops his arms around you from behind, drags you to him so the warmth of his frame bleeds into you. You go easily, lifting a hand to gently grasp at his arm as you two stare down at the valley below.

“We’ve a long ways to go, Schatz.” He murmurs, propping his head above yours and swaying gently on his feet. “We’ll need to find a den before winter comes.”

You hum a low note in response and allow yourself to imagine it- a new home. One with furs lining the floors, plush beneath your bare feet. A fire blazes brightly, smoke lifting upwards with the scent of cedar. You feel the warmth of it cast golden across your bare form as you pad over towards the nest you share with him. Both of you, strange, mysterious creatures of the woods- once alone, now together. He embraces you, gathers you to him and descends towards your waiting lips. You taste devotions on his tongue.

“My mate.” He purrs from behind you, as if imagining the same vision. He leans down to nuzzle at your cheek affectionately, drinking in your scent with a pleased, rumbling growl. You crane your head to offer him a kiss and feel the smile there as you do.

“My wolf.” You murmur in return with a breathy sigh, cup his face in tender affection. A sound rumbles low in his chest- possessive, protective, and utterly devoted.

He tilts his head, noses along the bruise he left on your neck with a displeased little whine.

“It’s fading.” He remarks quietly, noting the waning colors. “My claiming bite.”

You arch your neck so he has better access to it, sighing languidly in response. “Is that what makes me yours?” You ask softly.

Konig pauses then, and soon you find yourself facing him, caught in his arms as your hands brace themselves on his bare chest.

“No.” He tells you, staring down with his beautiful eyes, the color of a damp, green forest. “I can bite you, claim you forever, but you’re mine no matter what, Rotty.”

You offer him a smile of pure adoration, eyes full of a love so deep not even the endless forest has room to contain it. You stroke his face, your beloved wolf, and whisper the words that are your destiny.

“Then claim me.” You tell him softly, feeling prophecy unfurl once more. “Forever. I’m yours.”

Gold swallows green in his gaze, eyes glimmering brightly as he gathers you to him once more. You sigh into his lips as his arms close around you, unspooling your crimson cape so it sprawls on the earth below.

“Beloved Rotty.” He murmurs with the low intonation of a wild thing now tamed by your hands. “My Rotty.”

He lays you down amongst the ferns, presses his teeth to the soft flesh of your neck...

and you allow red to seal your fate.

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#konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #witcher 141 au #könig x f! reader #my fic #fic: rotes madchen #werewolf x reader

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ozarkthedog · 9 months

Text

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

summary: hitchhiking is especially dangerous during the outbreak.

chapter warnings: 18+ only. mdni. dark!joel miller x rescued fem!reader x dark!tommy miller. dubcon → noncon. set a few years after the outbreak and before they meet tess. mention of dead bodies and guns. no beta.

word count: 1414

author’s note: I just want to be their plaything ☺️ this part is pretty tame fyi but the following chapters will be intense.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

No one dies from love Guess I'll be the first Will you remember us? Or are the memories too stained with blood now?

You curse your car as it breaks down halfway to your destination. A town on the outskirts of the state that supposedly was a safe haven. As smoke billows from the hood, you sling on your backpack and head out on foot.

The scenery was the same mile after mile. Carnage mixed with bountiful greenery. Burnt, dismantled bodies no longer empty vessels as flowers and weeds filled the cavities.

A vulture circles the darkening sky above you as the low rumbling of a truck catches your attention. You turn on your heel towards the sound as it echoes up the road, growing closer.

It was rare to run across friendly folk. Everyone was trying to survive. Doing things they never thought they’d do and that included yourself.

You knew you were unlikely to survive another few days out in the wilderness with no food or water. Taking a chance on whoever was driving was your only hope. Your hand drops to the gun strapped to your hip. It holds only 3 bullets but no one has to know that.

The truck slows to a stop and idles. The dim headlights cut through the evening haze and make it hard to see the driver but you hold your ground. There could be a little old lady behind the wheel (unlikely) or a massive motherfucker has his rifle trained on your forehead.

You raise your hands hoping the little sign of submission will help your cause. You need to find shelter soon if this is going to go south.

The driver’s window rolls down. It’s dark inside the cabin but you can make out the driver’s face as he lights a cigarette. A flicker of orange gives you just enough time to see brown eyes and a head full of dark, loose curls.

Smoke billows from the window as a man leans an elbow on the frame. The silver moonlight paints an eerie haze over the scene, highlighting just enough to know he didn’t have a gun on you.

“What’s this now? You tryin’ to get killed or somethin’?” He asks, a sly smirk tugging on his lips.

His pointed eyes rake up and down your body and spies your side piece as he takes a heavy drag on his cigarette before flicking the hot embers away.

“I- My car-” You start but trip on your tongue from the nerves building in your belly.

He looks up and down the road then back at you. “You alone?”

You nod. “I’m not looking for anything but a ride to the next town.”

The man tongues his cheek in thought before looking to the right. “Whaddya’ think?”

Shit. There was someone else in the truck.

“She looks nice enough.” The driver mutters ominously. His eyes never leave yours as he takes another drag on his cigarette.

You shift on your feet and swallow down the notch in your throat.

“Sure.” A deep voice rumbles from the pitch-black passenger seat. “Why not.”

The driver grins and lets out a little holler. “You heard him, girl,” he hooks his thumb over his shoulder. “Hop in.”

Relief washes over you like a hot bath. “Thank you. I’ll give you anything you want from my pack as payment.” You offer as you open the back door behind the driver.

“Now hold on a minute, Sugar.” The driver raises a hand. “Give me your gun.”

Fuck. You knew it was too good to be true.

“How about I give you the bullets?” You counter with a half smile, not wanting to part with your gun even if it was unloaded.

The driver shakes his head. “No can do. The gun or no ride.”

You grit your teeth and weigh your options which are bare minimum at best just as the raspy screech of a clicker sounds in the distance.

“I’m taking off in 5 seconds whether you’re with us or not.” He informs and settles a hand on the shift.

Another screech echoes into the night forcing you to unholster your gun and shove it at the man before jumping in the backseat of the pick up truck.

“Good choice.” He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and puts the truck in gear.

The dimly lit cabin reeks of grime and gunpowder. There’s a sack filled to the brim on the seat next to you. You assume it’s weapons or food as your eyes flick to the front seat and meet the grim stare of the passenger.

He’s large; the flannel shirt he’s wearing tugs on his bouldering shoulders as he shifts in his seat to keep an eye on you. His salt and peppered jaw sets in a hard line. “You gotta name?”

He’s unnerving as he stares you down. You squirm but do your best to put on a brave face as you tell him your name. The passenger's jaw twitches but he remains stoic as he keeps his eyes trained on you.

You couldn’t stand the unnerving silence despite the man’s intimidating presence. “How far are we from the next town?” You ask, timidly.

“‘Bout a day's drive.” The driver says, flicking his eyes to look at you in the rearview mirror.

Your heart plummets. “Shit.”

“Not to worry. You can stay the night with us.” The driver suggests, sending his partner a smirk.

“That wasn’t the deal.” You argue, instinctively reaching for your gun only to have your hand brush your empty hip.

“You’re not really the one to be calling the shots, now.” The passenger hums before patting the empty seat between the two men. “Join us up front.”

“I’d rather stay back here.” You quip while scanning the back seat for any kind of makeshift weapon.

“I wasn’t asking.” The older man warns as he cocks your gun, pointing it at you.

Tears fill your eyes but you don’t let them spill as you shakily raise your hands. The man keeps the gun trained on you as he shifts closer to his door to make room. “Climb over.” He commands. “Slowly.”

You quickly nod and do as he says. It was awkward climbing over the bench seat. You try not to bump the two burly men as you settle in between them but with the lack of space your limbs brush their arms and jean clad legs.

Even with the open view of the road through the windshield, you’ve never felt more confined. The passenger slides an arm around the back of the seat and turns his body towards you. “Ain’t this nice, Sweetheart?”

“The name’s not, Sweetheart.” You seethe through gritted teeth.

The two men chuckle at your feeble attempt at coming off stronger than you really are. “We’ll see about that.” The older man muses.

You spy your gun as he casually rests it on his knee. You wonder how long you’d have to wait before making a move to grab it.

A harsh hand suddenly grips the back of your neck making you cry out. “Don’t even think about it.” He growls and lifts the gun, pointing it towards your body.

“Alright. Alright.” You gasp, your throat constricts until nothing but a whimper slips through.

“God damn. You make some pretty noises.” The driver says while pinning your stare and rubbing a callous hand over his crotch.

You want to vomit. This can’t be happening. You needed to find a way out fast.

“Can see your mind working, Sweetheart.” The passenger claims your attention when he tips your chin towards him with the barrel of your gun. “Don’t think too hard or this won’t end well for you.”

Ice gathers in your veins. You can barely hold the man’s stare as tears fill your eyes.

“It’d be a hell of a waste to dump this sweet body.” Lust filled eyes trail down your quivering frame as he lets the threat linger. “But it ain’t no skin off our backs.”

Tears spill down your cheeks as your heart beats against your chest. “Don’t be scared, Sweetheart.” The passenger thumbs at the wetness with a soft coo. “You’re in safe hands.”

He tucks you into the crook of his body despite your weak protest. He smells of cedar and gun power as he cages you into his side.

The truck veers off the road suddenly. It follows a long winding dirt path that eventually leads to a small cabin surrounded by trees.

The driver lays a hand on your knee making you twitch. “Welcome home.”

💌 send me mail - feel free to scream at me :)

#dark!joel miller #dark!tommy miller #joel miller #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller x you

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vulpisnocturna · 7 months

Note

Hello there, I hope ur havin a great day ♡ may I ask for Gojo x virgin!reader w voice kink, if it's ok w u obviously 🖤 I just think he would be sooo sweet to his darling 😌

Of course lovely :)

15) free space (voice kink)

NSFW - MDNI

Warnings: virgin reader, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk, experienced Gojo, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, safe sex (on this blog??? crazy I know), Lawyer AU because why not, soft dom Gojo

His cerulean eyes were truly what people described and more. They had the effect that the Bernini statues had had on you when you had first seen them: awe and wonder at how an artist could carve marble to look like flesh and silk, how fingers curling on stone could look so soft and powerful. Gojo Satoru’s eyes were the same: they left you in marvel of the specks of hundreds, if not thousands of hues of blue, from the deepest depths of the ocean to a forest stream to the summer sky, all the way to the richest sapphires and the July fields of cornflowers in a meadow. They were framed by snowy eyelashes like snowflakes on ice, and try as you might, you could not accept that they were covered by sunglasses most of the time.

The first time you had seen them, you had forgotten how to speak. Now, because Satoru was a bit of a prick, he never did let it go. Once he had caught onto the fact that you had a crush on him, he had asked you out on a date. You were a lawyer green as grass at the firm he was partner at, fresh out of law school, looking to make a name for yourself in the law scene and make a change. Though his methods of arguing were unorthodox, Gojo Satoru was regarded as the best lawyer in the city. He talked way too much and often got cheeky with the Judge, which always made you slump in your chair and cringe inwardly like all the bones in your body had turned to soup, but somehow, his charm always managed to appease both the Judge and the jury.

Nanami-san said that if anyone other than Gojo tried his methods in court, they would be held in contempt in the span of five minutes without even having the time to utter “Your Honour”. He could do what he did because he was Gojo Satoru, but you still admired his speeches, his compelling motions, the way he could turn a case around at the last minute of the closing arguments as though it was second nature.

It was after a full day in court where you had had to cross-examine a very important defence expert witness that Gojo had kept you in the cafeteria at the afternoon break. You were sitting on a bench, trying to relieve the pain in your feet after wearing stilettos and standing behind the podium for hours, and drinking the watery coffee that did not taste like much just to keep yourself going just for another two hours, when Gojo had approached you.

‘That cross was quite the show’ he had commented, devouring a pastry, licking his lips when the strawberry jam inside it painted his mouth bright red.

That had been when Gojo had first taken notice of you. After that, he had insisted on getting a morning coffee with you, buying you lunch on the break and had even invited you to a dinner with the firm partners, and despite you feeling really out of your depth, he had managed to make you feel like you belonged with his easy jokes and cheeky compliments.

One week after the dinner, he had taken you on a beautiful date at a bar in the bustling centre of the city, where cocktails were served with smoke billowing from the glass and even just bartending looked like full-fledged artistry.

And now, after your third date, you had had a couple of glasses of red wine, and you had felt courageous enough to take him up on his offer to go back to his place. As a starting practitioner, you were living in a small flat near the courthouse, one where if you opened the sofa-bed, you would not be able to reach the kitchen unless you crawled over the bed. And now, you were in a penthouse with windows surrounding the living room, overlooking the skyline and the city centre. It was... extravagant and showy, two adjectives you would immediately choose when talking about him. And he was currently embracing you from behind, kissing your throat, sending your heart pattering like hailstones on a car windshield.

You hadn’t had the guts to tell him you were a virgin. You were out of your depth here as you had been at the dinner, but this, this felt so much more personal. This was... embarrassing.

Perhaps because you had been so busy with law school and then work, trying to stay on top of bills and rent, you hadn’t had time to date. You felt as though you had missed a big part of your puberty and early adulthood, and at some point, it had gotten to a point where “waiting for the right one” had turned into not trusting anyone enough with the embarrassment of still being a virgin. You had never been fully naked with someone, never done anything more than making out and shirtless dry humping. And he... well, he had a reputation as a womanizer. He looked like the type to have commitment issues, and God, you should not be involving yourself with him to this point, you should not give out your first sex experience to someone who might just want a one night stand with no baggage, but he had won you over like he won all of his cases.

And now, you were afraid to admit that you loved that peculiar, flamboyant man, and you wanted him to be your first.

But you did not know how to come clean with it. And so you were stuck in that predicament, turning into putty in his hands and growing more and more tense by the minute as his lips ghosted your jaw and your throat, his hands splayed on your stomach, holding you in place.

‘You are so pretty, sweetheart. You smell so sweet- you look so innocent, just want to see you look at me with your pretty teary eyes underneath me’ he murmured against your ear, and a shiver ran up your spine, your eyelids fluttering at the mere sound of his voice. He sounded... tantalising. It was as if his voice alone was enough to render you unable to think, enough to make your lower stomach drop and force you to press your thighs together to alleviate the throbbing between them. The huskiness of it, the sweet but sensual tone, his words... they were all making you dizzy. You could just hear him speak in your ear forever and you would never need to have sex to know what it felt like.

‘Satoru-‘ you breathed, licking your dry lips, and he turned you, picking you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips. His lips clashed with yours, hungry and enticing, soft and ravenous as they sought to brand you and burn their likeness in your mouth. His tongue was warm and demanding against yours, and he tasted faintly of mint and spiced rum, a lingering tribute to the last drink he’d had. His teeth sank in the pliant flesh of your bottom lip, and he sucked, tearing a whimper from you that made him groan.

The sound that came from his throat did nothing to quell down your lust, rather, it poured gasoline on a forest fire, to the point where you were squirming and gyrating your hips against his erection in an attempt to find reprieve.

‘Eager, are we, baby? I like it’ he chuckled, and you burnt from embarrassment and sheer lust, gulping when you found yourself in his room, which seemed to be bigger than your flat, on a king-sized bed with the softest mattress you had ever felt underneath you. He was quick to take off his shirt, giving you a view of his flawless alabaster skin and the lithe body he was blessed with, one that was nonetheless quite toned and muscular for someone who spent his day arguing with people. He climbed above you, looking at you with those cobalt eyes that seemed to make the world stand still.

‘C’mon, sweetheart, relax. I’m not going to devour you- unless you ask nicely’ he winked at you, making you burn at the embarrassing joke and the connotations of his words.

‘I- I haven’t... had sex before. Ever’ you decided to rip the band-aid and hope for the best. Satoru’s reaction was not what you had expected. He looked perplexed.

‘You’re a virgin? You? You must have had a crowd of fanboys following you for years. Were none of them up to your standards? Were you waiting for me?’ he teased, smirking, almost as if he was trying to put you at ease with his light humour. You gave a nervous laugh.

‘Uhh, I was... busy- and never really got to that point’ you stuttered, wishing his stupid extravagant bedside table lamps weren’t on so he wouldn’t see your face.

‘Well, I am flattered you chose me. I’ll have to make it worth your time, yeah?’ he said, seemingly falling back into his charming self as he ran the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, making you hold your breath as you waited for his next move.

He cupped your face, drawing you in for a slow, sensual kiss that made your stomach drop and pebbled your skin with goosebumps. The touch of his fingers was a mere caress across your ribcage, your waist and hip, but you could tell that he was holding back, and he would have likely been much rougher had he not known that this was your first time.

His feverish lips traced a line to your throat, and he took his time savouring your skin, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin until you were sure you were nothing but a pliant ragdoll in his hands.

‘I’m going to make you feel so good, baby... going to make you addicted to this, make you my good girl’ he crooned against your skin, and your breath faltered, your teeth pulling on the corner of your bottom lip. He sounded sinful, alluring, like he was casting a spell on you. His voice alone, hearing him say that, the drop in his tone, the way his tongue seemed to caress every word like his fingers were ghosting your skin... it was already becoming too much to bear. You needed to feel more, and you did not want him to treat you like you were a fragile thing who would break at the slightest touch.

In your fantasies, ones you would take to your grave, he would just take you as he spewed filth to you, praising you and making you feel like you were the only thing he ever saw and wanted. You wanted to be his.

‘Satoru... you can be rougher with me’ you murmured, and his eyes seemed to gleam in the orangey glow of the lamps, a grin spreading across his reddened lips as his fingers curled around your hip.

‘Careful what you wish for, pretty girl’ he said, his hand skimming your body to settle on your ass, under your skirt. He was fondling the pliable skin there, his tongue dipping out to lick your cleavage. He helped you out of your top, his eyes devouring every inch of your skin, making you feel truly attractive and seductive as you watched him take in your features like he couldn’t get enough of you.

Satoru ran his willowy fingers over your breasts, ghosting over your stiff nipples, circling them before he pulled down the straps of your bra and snaked his hand underneath your back to unclasp it and toss it away.

You would have felt self-conscious, were it not for Satoru’s immediate enthusiasm as he dipped his head and kissed the skin around your nipple, his hand kneading the other breast as his tongue flicked your nipple and he sucked it. You arched your back into his eager mouth and skilled fingers, wishing he would touch you between your legs, because you couldn’t take it anymore.

‘So pretty- you’re so sensitive, baby. You want me to take this pretty little skirt off?’ he asked, voice almost mellifluous, and you nodded almost too eagerly, immediately averting your eyes and feeling your cheeks heat up with warmth as you watched him smirk. He unzipped your skirt, easily slipping it off you, and his fingers ran up your thighs, which parted for him instinctively. He hummed in self-satisfaction, eyes locked on your face as he cupped you through your underwear, making your breath falter and a desperate mewl escape you at the much needed friction, which still did not feel like enough.

‘You’re such a good girl. So wet for me’ he crooned, dragging his fingers along your labia, pressing slightly until you were squirming underneath him.

‘Please, Satoru- need...’ you whined, and he chuckled, lowering his head to plant a kiss on your clothed pussy, his tongue mischievously flicking you where your most sensitive spot was.

‘What do you need, sweetheart? Want me to take your panties off and lick your cute little cunt?’ he asked, so impossibly lewd and alluring that you could not help but moan, nodding desperately.

‘Yeah- need you to touch me’ you breathed, and he smirked, cerulean eyes bright and impish as he hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties and dragged them down your thighs, discarding them and immediately touching your bare skin, teasing your wet labia and kissing your thighs, inching closer and closer to your cunt.

He dipped one long finger inside you, and you were already clamping and throbbing around it, but when he curled it, you could not help the breathless, wanton moan that poured out of you. It felt too good to be true.

‘Such a tight little cunt. Need to get you used to my fingers before you can take my cock, m’kay?’ he cooed, and your head spun with the sheer desire that man could induce in you with just his voice and a single finger.

But when his tongue joined his hand and he flicked your clit, you swore you saw stars. Your hands shot to his snowy hair, and instinct made you try to squirm away, but Satoru would not let you. He pinned you down with one large hand and let out a gravelly groan, circling your clit with his tongue.

If you had known oral sex felt this good, you would have sought someone out years ago. But perhaps it was just Satoru, and he was annoyingly good at everything, including sex.

You were reduced to a sobbing, wanton mess as Satoru tormented you in the sweetest way there was, coaxing whimpers and moans from you as he sucked your clit in his searing mouth, added another finger inside you and pumped them, slowly at first, and then deeper and faster.

His fingers were so much different from yours: they were longer and thicker, and he knew what he was doing even better than you did. And his tongue... God, it was torturous.

‘Cum for me, pretty girl- cum on my face’ he said, and you were undone. Your orgasm rocked through you like a surge of electricity, making your body tense up and your thighs tremble, your ears ringing and your eyes full of tears, white splotches dancing in your vision as the tight knot in your lower stomach released.

You were bleary, worn-out and breathless when he finally lifted his head and slipped his fingers out of you, unable to even form words after the orgasm he had just torn from you. Your dazed eyes followed him as he lifted himself off the bed and unbuttoned his trousers, taking them off along with his black boxers, until you stared, eyes slightly wide as his cock slapped against his lower stomach, thick and long, the reddened skin contrasting with the neatly trimmed white hairs of his crotch and the pale skin of his stomach.

He reached to the drawer of his nightstand, grabbing a condom and ripping the wrapper with his teeth. He unrolled it over his cock, smirking at you and hovering above you, kissing you and rubbing the tip of his cock over your labia, making you whine and push your hips against him to get him to push in.

‘Shh, shh. I have to be gentle, don’t want to hurt you, baby’ he murmured, looking as though he was struggling to restrain himself too as he pushed in a little bit, until the tip of his cock pressed inside you, tearing a whimper from you. It already felt thick and as though it was filling you and stretching you, and you did not know whether you would be able to withstand any more.

However, with coaxing and shushing from his part, he was able to push a few more inches inside you, moaning as his head dropped in the crook of your neck, his breath uneven. Your eyes scrunched up and you gritted your teeth at the burning sensation inside you, taking small breaths and trying to relax your muscles even though your instinct was to tense up.

‘Fuck- you’re so tight. You can take it, you’re doing so well, sweetheart. Just a little more’ he praised, kissing you, forcing you to relax and distracting you from the pain you felt as he pushed. You gasped at the sudden pang of pain, raking your nails down his back, but the sting did not take too long to fade away.

The first push of his hips after the pain went away felt so good you could not hold back a loud moan, and your back arched into him, your eyelids growing heavy with pleasure.

He let out a groan, gripping your thigh, lifting it around his waist, deepening the thrusts until you were squirming underneath him, whining and pleading with him.

‘Good girl. You feel amazing. You sound so sweet, baby’ he crooned, slapping his hips against you, until you could barely breathe and were rendered incoherent by how good it felt, how it pressed against all the right places, how his words were guiding you through it, heightening the pleasure.

‘’toru- please... I’m so close’ you moaned, and he gave you an impish grin, pulling you into a sloppy kiss, his hand snaking between your bodies to roll your clit between his fingers, until you were quivering and writhing underneath him, gasping for air when your lips weren’t interlocked with each other.

‘That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby. I’m close too’ he said, getting rougher, pushing deeper and harder into you, lifting one of your legs on his shoulder, his bright blue eyes burning into you, seeming to sear the image he was seeing into his brain.

A string of curses and slurred pleas left your mouth as it got too much to bear and the knot in your belly released, making you tremble with your orgasm, your field of view obfuscated with white, your muscles weak as his hips stuttered and his rhythm broke. He came with a breathy moan, his head thrown back in bliss, his lips slightly parted.

Satoru slumped next to you, a light sheen of sweat making some strands of snowy hair cling to his forehead, his skin almost glowing in the dim light of his room.

You dared to reach to his face and brush them away, and he closed his eyes, almost as if he was revelling in your touch. It made your heart tighten in your ribcage.

‘Shower with me?’ he asked, smiling slightly, and then his lips stretched into that charming, roguish smirk, ‘I can’t promise I’ll behave, sweetheart’

#i apologise for any law inconsistencies #gojo imagine #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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daisies-daydreams · 11 months

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Under the Desk (John Price x F!Reader)

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Oral Sex (M!Receiving), Semi-Public Sex, Swearing, Spanking, Hair Pulling Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Just a little something I wrote while I'm working on a few requests. 👅💦

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You squealed as you wrapped your arms around Price's thick neck. A small squelch erupted from your lips as he thrusted his tongue inside of your mouth. A small jolt of electricity shot through you as your clothed sex bushed against his stiffening cock. The action earned you an eager squeeze to your bum, your boyfriend’s hand kneading the flesh in his rough palms. Price parted lips with you, his chest heaving as he gazed at you with blown pupils.

“Get under the desk, sweet girl. You know what to do,” Price rumbled, his wet lips dancing over yours. You nodded, your hands trailing down his t-shirt as he pulled back in his office chair. You gave a harsh grind of your hips one more time, savoring how he gasped at the friction. You slowly slid off of his lap, maintaining eye contact the whole trip down. Price stared at you through half-lidded eyes as you shuffled onto your knees, your hands working at his belt.

Price pulled out one of the desk drawers and fished a fresh cigar out. He flinched when your fingers slowly pulled down the elastic of his blue boxers. His hard cock jumped out of his pants, the red tip dripping with precum. You licked your lips, taking his burning hot shaft into one of your hands as you pumped it slowly. Price grunted as he flicked his lighter, setting the tip of his cigar ablaze. He puffed at it a few times before releasing a stream of smoke from his nostrils.

“That’s a good girl,” Price praised as you continued to stroke up and down his length. He inhaled another drag of smoke, only to nearly choke on it when you kissed the tip of his cock. “Bloody fuck,” he groaned when you swirled your warm tongue around his plump, bulbous head. His balls ached as you worked your hands in tandem with your tongue. You raised his dick before licking a stripe from the base all the way up to his leaking tip.

“Fuck, lovie,” Price grunted as he shallowly bucked his hips. You sighed and closed your eyes as he slid his hand down to your head, threading his fingers through your hair. He puffed at his cigar again as he massaged at your scalp.

You moaned around his cock, taking it an inch deeper into your wet cavern. You let your hands fall to his inner thighs as you shifted closer, allowing him to sink in even further.

“That’s right-use your mouth just the way I like,” he rumbled, billows of smoke pouring past his lips. You suckled around his dick before starting to pull your head back, leaving his head between your lips. Price released a subtle moan as you bobbed your head across his length, his cock stuffing your mouth full. His fingers began to grip at your hair as you used your tongue to smooth over the vein on the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-“ he grunted. Price quickly set his cigar in his ashtray as you watched the resolve slip from him. His free hand clutched at the arm of his desk chair while he used his other to guide your head up and down his shaft. You repressed the urge to gag as his cock began to hit the back of your throat.

“Mmm, love how your lips wrap around me, baby,” Price swallowed thickly. You squeaked when he thrusted his hips into your mouth, his cock nearly splitting your jaw apart. Tears pricked at your eyes as your fingers raked down his pants.

“Shit-gonna cum,” Price growled, his cock twitching inside your wet cavern. Your eyes opened to look up at him and his face scrunched up.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Captain? Mind if I have a word real quick? It’s urgent," Gaz spoke from the other side of the door.

Price’s head whipped forward before looking down to you. You reflected his gaze of panic, his cock still lodged deep in your throat. Your love’s breathing stuttered as he pushed himself forward.

“Not a sound, bird,” he demanded softly as he scooted you beneath the desk. You nodded as Price straightened his clothes out. He sighed as he held his hands on his desk.

“Come in!” he called. Gaz opened the door, his brows instantly knitting when he saw the Captain's red face.

“You alright, Price? Look a bit feverish,” Gaz stated as he approached the desk. Your heart thrummed against your sternum as you felt some of his precum slide down your throat. Your mind was swimming with arousal, numb to any consequence of being caught. You fluttered your eyes closed as you cracked a wry grin.

“Ah, well, I’m not faring too well-Gaz,” his voice strained as you hollowed your cheeks around his cock. Price's hands squeezed together, his knuckles turning whiter by the second as you swiped your tongue against a prominent vein. Gaz raised a brow, his eyes scanning his Captain.

“Right. Well, there’s some important news from Las Almas,” Gaz stated. Price kept his hands tightly wound together and nodded as Gaz explained the most recent report given by Alejandro. You shallowly drove your mouth up and down his length, careful to not make too many wet sounds. Price’s hands tightened around each other every so often. His left eye twitched whenever his sensitive tip tapped the back of your throat. Gaz paused.

“You sure you’re alright, Price?” the Sergeant asked. Price nodded and gritted his teeth as you deftly massaged his heavy balls with one of your hands.

“I’m fine, Sergeant,” he seethed as you stroked your thumb across his raphe. His hand slipped down to the arm of his chair, grasping at his as Gaz finished his conversation. Your eyes widened as Price snatched your hair, squeezing his fingers around it roughly. You didn't cease your ministrations as Gaz saluted and saw himself out. You released his dick from your mouth, smiling up at him.

"Little minx," Price huffed. You squeaked as he shoved his cock far down your throat, using your hair to guide you along his thick shaft.

“Think it’d be funny to make me cum in front of one of my men, hm?” he asked. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as he relentlessly drove himself into your mouth, each squelch louder than the last. He groaned as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your walls clenching around nothing.

“You're gonna take all my cum like a good girl,” Price grunted when he gave a few more hungry thrusts. He bit his other hand as he stiffened, his cock twitching over your tongue. Your moans were muffled as he came down your throat.

"(Y/N)..." he slurred as you felt the warmth drip down your esophagus.

He panted before shifting his gaze down. You looked up at him with wet doe eyes as he kept your hair in a tight grip. You felt the tension in your throat loosen as he slid you off of his cock. You gasped and sputtered for air, some of his cum dripping down the corner of your mouth. Price clicked his tongue before swiping at the drop and shoving his fingers between your parted lips. You clamped your mouth down and swirled your tongue around his fingers, suckling his spend greedily.

“Fuck-look at you,” he groaned as his chest heaved. You whined as he withdrew his long digit, wiping it on his pants leg. You rested your cheek on his inner thigh, your hips wagging like a dogs. Price patted your head before rolling back in his chair.

You blinked as he nodded his head towards the desk.

“Come up here,” Price softly commanded as he curled his finger. You quickly bounded up, squeezing your thighs together as you stood in front of him. The Captain hummed, a dangerous glint in his eye as he rose from his chair. He splayed his hands over your hips before leaning his face down to your ear. You yelped when he laid a sharp smack across ass, the flesh instantly stinging.

“Turn around and bend over," Price rasped as he lined his cock up to your soaked entrance. You shuddered as he raked his teeth over your pulse, his hand wrapping around your hair.

"I'm gonna make sure you truly understand what it means to listen,” he husked.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

#captain price #captain john price cod #captain john price x y/n #call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #reader insert #cod smut #cod x reader #john price call of duty #john price x y/n #captain john price #john price cod #john price x you #john price x reader #mw2 fanfic #cod mw22 #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you

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nina-ya · 6 months

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Happy Birthday- Sanji Edition

A/N: This was written for the lovely @uminozerol for her very special day!! Happy birthday my love <3 Pairing: Sanji x Reader CW: None WC: 1454

Sanji rose early on the morning of your birthday, driven by the desire to craft a perfect day for you. His plan was set: to surprise you with breakfast in bed, followed by a stroll along the beach, a gorgeous picnic featuring a delicately prepared mushroom risotto paired with an expensive bottle of red wine, all culminating in watching the breathtaking sunset together and sharing some delightful desserts. The grand finale of your special day was a handcrafted necklace adorned with a stunning topaz, a precious gem carefully fashioned by artisans on the island just for you. It was intended to be a perfect day, a gesture of affection meant to make your birthday unforgettable.

However, fate had other ideas. Just as Sanji finished preparing your breakfast in bed, some of the other crew members entered the kitchen, led by Luffy whose eyes immediately zeroed in on the spread meant exclusively for you. In the blink of an eye, Luffy devoured the breakfast, leaving Sanji visibly shocked and disheartened by the unexpected turn of events. Moreover, your unplanned arrival in the kitchen meant there was no chance for Sanji to quickly prepare another surprise. Determined not to let the morning lose its sparkle, he proceeded to carefully prepare a fresh breakfast, serving it to you with enthusiasm, a radiant smile adorning his face as he warmly greeted you with a cheerful, "Happy birthday."

As the day unfolded, Sanji clung to the hope that the unexpected morning mishap could be salvaged. "It's okay," he reassured himself, determined to carry out the remainder of his plans. He threw himself into the kitchen, preparing the white mushroom risotto that was a part of the day's intended feast. He also took the time to bake a batch of vanilla cupcakes, accompanied by some smooth vanilla frosting, knowing full well that they were your absolute favorite.

To maintain the element of surprise, Sanji had orchestrated a diversion, sending Nami and Robin with you to explore the island and take you shopping. While you were away, he set the mushroom risotto to cook.

A burst of chaos erupted. A group of pirates attempted to invade the Thousand Sunny, forcing Sanji and the rest of the crew to respond swiftly and protect the ship. They defeated the intruders with little difficulty, but the time they spent dealing with the pirates allowed a thick cloud of smoke to billow from the kitchen, signaling the unfortunate demise of the risotto.

Sanji's irritation was palpable as he surveyed the scene, shaking his head in disbelief, feeling that the day couldn't possibly get any worse. Sanji frantically ransacked his brain, searching for any way to save the day. His thoughts fell on the dessert, the precious cupcakes that he had so carefully baked and topped with vanilla frosting – a beacon of hope among the challenges he had faced. He was determined to make the best of the situation.

Opening the fridge with a sense of urgency, he reached for the cupcakes to complete the last piece of the puzzle, breathing a sigh of relief at the prospect of redeeming the day. But as he gazed inside, the heart-wrenching sight that met his eyes left him in disarray. The cupcake tray lay in shambles, its contents devoured or strewn about the fridge. Bits and pieces of cupcake mingled with the remnants of vanilla frosting, an explosive mess.

The scene left him in an absolute state of distress, a mix of desperation and rage surging through him. In a frantic panic to salvage what remained, Sanji sifted through the wreckage of cupcakes and frosting, hoping and praying for a glimmer of hope. To his relief, he managed to retrieve a single uneaten cupcake from the scene.

He rushed to create a fresh batch of frosting, working quickly to decorate the lone cupcake with as much care as he could muster. Time was of the essence as he put the final touches on his makeshift dessert before you returned to the Thousand Sunny, his commitment to making your birthday special unshaken despite the day's unexpected setbacks.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the night sky with its final hues and casting shimmering stars, you finally returned to the Thousand Sunny. Nami and Robin, who knew Sanji's surprise plans for your birthday, had directed you to meet him in the kitchen for your special birthday dinner. Filled with anticipation, you hurriedly made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with thoughts of the foods Sanji might have prepared to celebrate your special day.

With anticipation, you swung open the door, your eyes brimming with excitement. However, the sight that greeted you was unexpected. A single candle cast a soft, gentle glow, bathing the kitchen in a warm luminescence. In the faint light, you could just make out Sanji, who held a single cupcake, his nervousness obvious.

He approached you, nervously carrying the cupcake, his voice trembling as he began to explain. "I, uh, had this whole plan to make the perfect day for you. I was going to start with breakfast in bed, and then, well, we should have been on the beach by now for dinner, but, you see, everything got ruined," he stammered, his nerves taking over.

A tender smile graced your lips as you observed the cupcake and the flickering candle. With a gentle exhale, you leaned forward and closed your eyes, extinguishing the candle's flame with your breath. The darkness momentarily silenced Sanji's rambling, enveloping the two of you in a quiet moment.

He resumed his explanation with a touch of regret, "I'm really sorry that I couldn't do more for you—"

But before he could finish, you silenced him, leaning in and enveloping him in a sweet, tender kiss. Breaking the kiss, you offered your soft and heartfelt response, "Sanji, this is absolutely perfect."

Sanji, if visible in the dark, would be seen blushing profusely, a deep crimson hue painting his face. He stood there, frozen, almost as if the kiss had rendered him momentarily speechless. However, your soft laughter broke through the quiet air. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, and cautiously diverted the conversation, “Uh, so, what did you wish for?”

In response, you playfully teased, “That's for me to know and for you to find out,” a smile evident in your voice.

Sanji laughed softly, the tension dissolving, “Yeah, forgot the whole ‘keep your wish a secret’ thing.” He suggested wine, and upon your agreement, he navigated the darkened kitchen to retrieve a bottle of red wine and glasses. Leading you to the deck of the Thousand Sunny, he settled by your side. Pouring wine into glasses, he presented one to you. You both indulged in your birthday cupcake, savoring every bite of the sweet delight, washing it down with the wine.

As the night deepened, the ambiance aboard the Thousand Sunny grew more peaceful. The night sky above was decorated with shimmering stars. Wrapped in the serene embrace of the night, you and Sanji continued to enjoy each other's company, sipping wine, laughter reverberating across the deck, leading to a comforting and intimate scene, the passage of time marked by the emptying wine bottle.

As you both sat on the deck, the necklace, a masterpiece of intricate craftsmanship, lay cradled in his hand, its radiant topaz gem gleaming in the sunlight. Sanji leaned closer, his voice tender and filled with affection, as he said, "I have a little something for you," He then gently placed the necklace around your neck, letting the cool touch of the gem grace your skin. It sparkled brightly, a reflection of the joy and admiration in his eyes as he fastened the clasp.

You couldn't help but gasp in surprise as Sanji presented the topaz necklace. Its elegance was striking, and you were taken aback by the thoughtful gesture. The gem sparkled against the warmth of the moonlight, and as he delicately secured the clasp around your neck, you felt the smooth, cool touch of the gem against your skin. Overwhelmed by the beauty of the necklace and touched by his heartfelt gesture, you turned to him with a beaming smile, expressing your gratitude. "Sanji, it's stunning," you said, touched by the thoughtful gift. "Thank you so much. It's perfect."

Lying side by side, gazing up at the star-studded sky, the gentle ocean breeze whispered secrets of the sea as the ship bobbed steadily. As sleep began to claim the night, you nestled into a comfortable position, resting your head on Sanji's chest. He planted a soft, tender kiss on your forehead. "Happy birthday," he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the night's calm, before succumbing to sleep beside you.

#one piece #one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji

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dracoxmalereader · 4 months

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Wrapping Paper

Draco x Male Reader

Context: First of a two-parter because Draco deserves more than a one shot (will post the second one tomorrow). My usual Huff!Reader, takes place in third year so before they're together, but they totally have mega-crushes on each other. <3

Summary: Draco has developed a habit of dragging you along with him whenever he sees you. Today is no exception, even as the holiday season comes into full swing.

Word Count: 800

An arm hooking around the bend of your elbow is all you feel before you’re being tugged away.

Frost nips at your nose, snotty and icy when you sniffle and echo a confused goodbye to your friends. Draco’s gloved hand warms your sleeve. He can’t have been outside for long.

“How come I’m always the one coming to find you?” His voice is playful, confident lilt caked into it. His arm doesn’t leave yours.

His footsteps crunch against the snow, falling heavy over it, bearing his full weight and pulling him faster than you can keep up with. He turns to side eye you as you fumble and trip. You catch yourself before you can meet the slushy ground.

“At least you’re wearing a coat this time.” He chuckles, a smirk on his face. His eyebrows are high and passive in a way you rarely see. “But really, your little Hufflepuff friends can’t be half as entertaining as I am.”

“My friends are plenty entertaining,” You reply. “You’re just always hanging around Crabbe and Goyle.”

You both remain still, chilly eyelashes blinking at one another. Hot chimneys mark the cold, bleak sky, smoke billowing from them into the air. Red lights glitter in the reflection of Draco’s eye.

“I told you they’re harmless,” He starts. “Dumb lot they are, but harmless. Even if they don’t know when to keep their mouths shut. Or do homework.”

His hand starts to slip from your arm, the flurry of people muddying the streets all too claustrophobic for the contact. You swallow and nod along, not quite convinced. A glimpse of vibrant green catches your eye through an open door.

You crane your neck to get a better look around him. His passive brows furrow before he spins to see too. “Stitches and Draughts? But they just sell junk.”

“Junk that I want.” Giggling, you take a bouncy step towards the store. Draco grumbles, but follows regardless.

The two of you mosey into the building. It’s a homey thing, warm and quiet. Unpopular, too, if the lack of people is anything to go by. Behind the counter is an old man you don't know the name of.

You carry yourselves to the shelf that had grabbed your attention. Holiday wrapping paper covers the whole of it, from the dusty floor to the low, wood beams of the ceiling. Your fingers tug at vibrant green, and the roll slips into your palm. Little cartoony Santas smile up at you.

“How adorable,” Draco mocks, his voice filling the insulated space of the store. “Almost worth some little kid’s play money.”

You shoot him a glare, and he looks away, exasperated, trailing his eyes on a table in the corner. It’s covered in tiny wooden statues.

“It is adorable, thank you very much.” You bite. “Worth all two of the hard-earned galleons it’s going for.”

Your fingers curl firmly around the roll, and your other hand snakes up the inside of Draco’s arm. You tug him to the counter. His throat bobs, awkwardly lingering at your side while you dig into your coat pocket to pull out the money. The old man takes the coins with shaky, wrinkled hands.

“Too expensive for you, eh?” Playfully, you nudge Draco with your elbow. “Here I was thinking money wasn’t a problem for you Malfoys.” The redness that blooms under his skin is lost in the twinkling string-lights strewn about.

You wish the old man a happy holidays on your way out of the store, paper in hand. “You certainly have interesting taste.” He says.

“It’s cute,” You laugh, pulling the roll open a bit to look at the pattern of Santas continue across. “I needed wrapping paper before break, anyways.”

“The paper we use at the manor is a lot more mature.” Draco teases. “I haven’t seen anything like this since I was a child.” An amused breath blows out of his nose, puff clouding in the cold.

Your brows furrow and you stay. In your peripherals you see Draco open and close his mouth once, twice, then he’s speaking again.

“But I guess it’s not that bad.” You turn to look at him. He shifts his weight and shoves his hands in his pockets. “For a Hufflepuff.”

He rolls his eyes. You give yourself a moment just to take in the way he holds himself. You tuck the paper under your arm, and fondness pulls the corners of your mouth up. People had webbed away from the edges of Hogsmeade, the street now mostly populated by the stray adult settling into place at a shop.

You hold your arm out to Draco.

“Where to next, hm?” You smile, and hope the sun will stay in the winter sky long enough to make just one more memory with him.

Updating later than I promised, again. TT

This time it really wasn't my fault, I was having tummy troubles all day. I'm in no shape to write Draco fic if I can't even leave bed. I felt like a dying widow in a period drama.

"Take me forth to the riverside one last time. When autumn dawns, only my memory will wake to dip its toes." - Me probably if it was like 1412

Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @siuspider @dracoshusband @skrunklespoingo @joongbin @esperfraud @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @0-alastair-0

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celtic-crossbow · 2 months

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Simply Save Me

Pairing: Scud x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cock warming; minor drug use; sexual themes

Summary: Scud is a known bad boy but what happens when you act like a bad girl?

A/N: Just catching plot bunnies with @lazyneonrabbitt 🩵

It was incredibly difficult to keep still, nearly impossible. You were so full, the intrusion that at first burned had morphed into a pleasurable stretch. You were near desperate to feel him moving inside you, massaging your deepest walls.

“Josh.” You had your arms wound around his neck with your face buried against his shoulder. The position was necessary so he could adequately see the screen. With his biceps bracketing your ribs, he was able to handle the controller, moving it back and forth instinctually trying to encapsulate the movements on the television.

“Come on, man! It was right there!” Scud yelled into the headset. You wanted to shush him, suddenly afraid that Blade or, oh god, Whistler would barge in to complain about the noise. They would find you utterly bare and split open on your boyfriend’s cock, clinging to him with tears in your eyes. Scud was still clothed, belt and zipper spread open. It was bad enough that the strangers he chose to game with could hear every whine and whimper.

“Please, Josh. Please.” You brushed your lips over his throat, licking his pulse point and feeling his heartbeat thrumming beneath your tongue.

“Sit still, baby. Almost got this round in the bag.” He leaned, continuing to press buttons on the controller while grabbing up the half of a joint from the ashtray. The movement had him nearly pulling out only to fully re-enter you.

“God, I need you. Please.” You began to roll your hips, the smell of weed wafting into your nostrils to combine with the spicy scent of his skin. He grunted and placed one hand on your hip, growling when you heard the specific tone indicating his character in the game had died.

“Aw, man. Crash and burn. Couldn’t just stay still, could ya, girl? Wasn’t enough to just sit pretty on me, just had to take more.” You continued at a slow pace, already panting from the pleasure, how your walls would tighten only to be stretched back open with each downward roll.

“I’m sorry, baby, I just needed you so bad.” You breathed against his ear. The controller and headset hit the floor with a thud and then his other hand was sliding up your side, over to palm at your breast. “Oh, god, yes. Touch me.” One hand disappeared as he hit the joint one last time, holding his breath as he put it out in the ashtray.

“Gonna wish you’d been good for me, babe.” He smirked with smoke billowing from his mouth and nose. Both hands slid around to your ass, grabbing greedy handfuls before gripping tight to lift you with him as he stood. You whimpered when he pulled out and deposited you on his bed, your hungry cunt left clenching around nothing.

The drawer to the nightstand slid open. You knew exactly what that meant for you. He was considering all the options at his disposal, finally reaching inside to pull out something with a quick flash of purple. Scud was notorious for tweaking anything he could use in the bedroom or crafting something of his own. A shiver ran over your form, anticipation building. You never knew what your boyfriend had planned for you. And you had just given him plenty reason to torture you in the most pleasurable ways his skilled mind could create.

Bowing over you at the same time something silicone pressed against your hot core, the inventor kissed you, grinning against your lips.

“Hold on, baby girl. The Scudster’s gonna show you what happens when you don’t behave.”

#murda writes #scud x female reader #scud x reader #scud fanfiction #joshua scud frohmeyer #scud #scud smut #Spotify

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cheriiyaya · 2 months

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Post-ww2 Yakuza!chuuya x Fem!reader

✮ Contents: ACT ONE, ~2k words, yakuza, mentions of ww2, mentions of double suicide

✮ A/N: omg i LOVED WRITING THIS FIC !! SO GLAD TO BE APART OF @kentopedia 's event!! a lot of this chapter is going to be set up, but it's important for the rest of the series !! next chapter~ masterlist~

Note: this is a work of fiction. I have taken some creative liberties in this fic, and i do not claim to know everything about japanese history but i have tried my best to be as historically accurate as possible

The train screeched, dragging along the rusty tracks to a stop. The doors slid open and people clambered out of the hot, stuffed train cars with large suitcases full of luggage in hand. You stepped outside into the mid-afternoon sun, surveying the noising chatter of people and the whistles blown by conductors while smoke billowed out the top of the train and dissolved in the air. Kyouka was right behind you- a young girl of around fourteen that had lost her parents in the war and, your personal maid. She carried your luggage with relative ease, it always stunned you how this young girl could manage carrying things most have trouble with.

“Come on, we have to reach the house soon…” You gestured for her to come closer to you. once she complied the two of you weaved your way through the sea of souls, chatter of things from the increase in the cost of rice to the presence of American troops flitted about.

Both because of the war.

You bumped into a man and quickly apologised, smoothing down the yukata that you wore as you glanced around the station in search for one of the servants that would bring you to the estate you were being sent to live in-for how long you didn’t know.

You saw some men crowded around a poster taped against the wall. Probably a poster from Communist supporters or just a call to resist the rule of gaijin. It’d probably will be torn down soon, and from the presence of American troops in this station alone made you wonder why it hadn’t been ripped off.

“Miss!!” You turned around to the source of the voice to see a young boy hurrying up to you, hair white and donning a sickly-pale complexion.

“You must be…” you racked through your brain for the boy’s name as he panted for air, hands on his knees. You were told his name before you left Tokyo, it was…

“…Atsushi. Nakajima Atsushi miss.” He panted, pushing his crooked bangs out of his sweat-beaded face. “Nice to meet you.” Atsushi smiled, straightening his posture and turning to Kyouka. You watched as he tried to take your luggage out of kyouka's small hands, to which she promptly refused and instead toddled off in search of the car. You smiled at her antics and followed along.

the car shifted against the gravelly unpaved roads leading to the estate. It was a family estate, built near the edges of Yokohama and one of few buildings that were lucky enough to be saved from the bombing of the Tokyo area a few years back. You rocked in the seat, hands folded in your lap as you looked out the window at the vibrant shades of green that adorned old, twisting tree trunks that curved along the sides of the road. “Have you been back recently miss?” Atsushi inquired from his spot in the front, steering wheel in his hands.

“No, it’s been a while. I can’t really remember the last time I was here very well, I was very young after all.” You braced against the side and let out a sudden yelp as the car hit a particularly bumpy spot. You looked at Kyouka quickly, confirming she was okay as you saw the girl looking quite unbothered as she stared blankly ahead with a small luggage bag in her lap.

Atsushi nodded, slowing the car down as the winding path opened to the estate grounds. Parking the car in a slope by the road, the three of you clambered out, exposing your skin to the sweltering heat of the burning sun.

“You can go inside miss. there’s not many helpers anymore but it’s not that much of a trouble.” Atsushi grunted as he helped kyouka lug the luggage out of the trunk, quickly explaining the directions to the room you were staying in. You nodded and went inside.

The estate was different; maybe it was because the light damage that was restored over the years, but there was something else to it. Maybe it was the way light shone in and hit the tatami floors, dust dancing in the rays coating the room in a warm hue. The floors creaked under the most gentle of steps as you walked through the halls following atsushi's hurried directions to your room. Pushing the sliding shoji door aside you entered the room carefully, as if there was an undisturbed creature slumbering away, forgotten amidst the chaos of the years long world war. There was a few things in the room, a western style desk and closet and a futon along with a few books lining a bookshelf. You aimlessly grabbed a book off the shelf, flipping through the text in boredom with your chin propped in hand. The entire estate was quiet, a far cry from the memories of the maid’s chatter and gossip echoing against the walls as a child. It was to be expected; no one in Japan was doing too favorably nowadays.

You sighed and dogeared the page you were on, laying down on the futon and staring blankly at the ceiling

Kyouka brought up the market as you ate breakfast the following morning.

“mh? do I want to go?” You took a sip of miso soup, head tilted in thought.

Kyouka nodded “I thought you might like to go out.” You nodded and swallowed.

“You’re right about that.” You spared one last bite of rice-it felt wrong to waste any when it was so expensive- and stood up.

The car sputtered and groaned as it came to a stop in a random alley near the Yamiichi. You and kyouka filed out, atsushi having some work to attend to so the two of you were left on your own. It was a bit stressing; after all it was your second day in Yokohama. Loose rock and dirt shifted under your heels as you slowly figured out the proper directions to the market from the vague directions given by a passerby.

Yamiichi were technically illegal, but sometimes they were the only places that most people could afford to buy from. Of course they had risks. Yakuza gangs often fought for control of the most lucrative markets in the city, and American troops often intermingled alongside the Japanese in the markets. However, keeping your head low and avoiding standing out worked well to repel possible troubles.

You were just there with your maid to get some food and leave. As the sight of poorly constructed roofs of market stalls grew closer you couldn’t help the dip of anxiety in your stomach, spreading and curling around in your limbs like a plague.

The market was packed at this time of day, and you made a mental note to come later or earlier-though the former seemed better to you. Weaving through hungry and desperate people was a difficult task, being pushed around and hitting the sharp, protruding bones of hips and shoulders would definitely cause some bruises if this kept up.

Pausing to read the stalls signs to figure out who was selling what, you made your way to a stall selling sweet potatoes among other vegetables, sending kyouka to another stall as you rather not stay longer than needed. The seller, a middle aged man with silver streaks in his dark hair, placed produce in a worn sack as you named out what you needed, and when he named the price it was more exorbitant than expected.

“Are you sure? For all that?” You dug your teeth into the soft flesh of the inside of your cheek, glancing at the half-filled sack. It seemed too much, but bartering didn’t seem attractive enough for you to argue with this man. You doled out some yen and placed them on the table, grabbing the sack of produce and hurrying off with it clutched to your chest.

Glancing around for kyouka, you didn’t see the man barreling towards you, looking around with hands shoved in pockets.

You didn’t notice him until he crashed into you, knocking the two of you to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Ah shit, my bad- are you okay miss?” You grunted and nodded, blinking dust out of your eyes as the ginger stood up and hurried to your side.

“I’m okay.” You sighed, looking to the side to find the threadbare sack ripped open and the produce spilled all over the dusty ground. You sighed and looked up at the man, gray eyes casting an apologetic glance at you while holding his gloved hand out. You nodded and took it, about to thank him when you heard an over-dramatic gasp and the crunch of gravel under hurried steps.

“Chuuya! How ungentlemanly of you to knock over such a pretty lady!” You saw a twitch in the man's-chuuya's- eye and he let out a silent hiss, glaring at the brown-haired man that strolled over.

“Shut it, mackerel. I didn’t mean to.” He snapped back, squeezing your hand a bit before dropping it. The brunette glanced at you before he grinned and dropped onto his knees, clutching your hand in his. You gaped a bit, a starry look in the mans eyes as he spoke quickly.

“My darling, would you like to reenact ending of the play Shinjuu ten no Amijima with me in a double suici-?” chuuya grabbed him by the collar, shoving him away from you and gritting his teeth.

“Sorry, sweetheart. For this mess-” He gestured to the wasted produce, “-and for dazai.” He shook dazai a bit and he whined about double suicides and how mean chuuya was for not letting him achieve one with you. You smiled a bit and giggled softly at the sight in front of you and if you were staring a little more carefully you would’ve seen the colour that flushed chuuya's cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll come back later I guess…” You sighed, shoulders slumping. chuuya's mouth opened before he shut it, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck.

“okay, guess I’ll go do…stuff…” He said it so quietly you had to strain your ears over the clammer of the market to hear. Before you could respond he lugged dazai up and dragged him away from you, not before you could register a snippet of their argument.

“c'monnnn, Chuuya! You hafta admit she’s reaaaally pretty-” a yelp followed.

“S-shut it!”

It took you a moment to realize they were talking about you.

You looked down and gathered some of the salvageable produce in your arms, and as you did so you realized your heart.

Why was it beating faster than normal?

Shinjuu ten no Amijima: "the love suicides at Amijima"; a kabuki play in which the two lovers commit double suicide at the end.

gaijin: foreigners; used by the Japanese to describe occupying American troops

Yamiichi: illegal black markets in post-wwii japan

tagging: @rusmii @atsquie @minteraysolo @atzuhi @lovesick-fairy @adoredazai @pinky-99 @tabathastan @ravencincaide @dazaikinniess @nyx-prodigy @himikoslove @teddirika @hyacinth-venom @kaitoluver @dydrem @starracoonagain @scryarchives

#☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝕽𝖊𝖉'𝖘 𝕽𝖚𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya headcanons #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x gn reader #chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara x you #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara

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laws-hat-headcanons · 7 months

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Psstt as a Kid fan I gotta ask....how would he confess to his mechanics-obsessed crewmate/potential girlfriend? She loves to build and create all kinds of contraptions, sometimes there is an occasional kaboom, but it's all part of her ideas. Does he even dare to confess first? o:

Hi @metalheaduo

Thanks for the ask, I know I've written something for Kid in the past with a mechanic s/o so this was pretty fun! Hope you like it!

Kid confessing to a Mechanic love interest

. At first Kid thinks his feelings towards her are just professional appreciation - from one talented builder of metal death traps to another.

. And he would continue to convince himself of that for a long time, even when he knows it’s probably more than that.

. One of Kid’s favourite things to do is chill out in the workshop together, coming up with ideas that are each more crazy and outlandish than the next.

. He’s amazed at how she doesn’t shy away from a challenge, even when Kid puts forward an idea that is a technical nightmare, she’s drawing up schematics within minutes.

. Kid doesn’t know if it’s love, but it’s the closest thing to it that he’s ever felt.

. He’s not good at expressing himself. Knows that if he tries to tell her that she means something to him he’s going to fuck it up.

. And if she doesn’t feel the same, if she rejects him, he doesn’t want to lose the friendship they have. He doesn’t want to lose the late nights tinkering together or the shop talk over dinner.

. Kid doesn’t want to stop spending time with her.

. So he sits on his feelings for a while, trying to figure out if she likes him as more or if it’s just friendship and and a shared hobby to her.

. Is not very patient though so can’t hold back for very long.

. Kid goes a little bit insane trying to think of a way to confess without feeling like an idiot - but he’s always been more of an actions guy than a words guy.

. Is set on confessing and is heading to the workshop when there is an almighty explosion on the Punk and his mind just goes blank.

. Is literally bouncing off walls as he sprints full tilt through the ship to get there and make sure she is okay.

. When he arrives as the workshop there is smoke billowing out of the door and he can see the flickering of flames inside but she’s standing outside, hands on her knees as she inhales deep lungfuls of air.

. “What the fuck happened?” Kid demands, striding over and taking her by the shoulders, standing her straight so he can quickly check her over to make sure she’s okay.

. “I was - I was just… shit that scared me!” She shudders and Kid scoffs, shaking his head in exasperation as he places a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her against him.

. “Yeah? Well stop doing stupid shit without me.” He orders, feeling warm spread through his body as she wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He swallows, nervous all of a sudden. “I- I can’t lose you. Got it?”

#one piece #one piece headcanons #eustass kid #one piece imagines #kid x reader #eustass kid headcanons

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harrywavycurly · 9 months

Note

Okay so… how did Eddie meet Barbie!Reader? Was he all of a sudden at the beach or did Barbie!Reader go to find the girls thats playing w her in Hawkins? How!

Hiii babes!! I will happily answer this, in my head Barbie took a wrong turn somewhere trying to get to the real world and ended up in Hawkins and just decided to never leave. So I hope you enjoy this little blurb about them meeting 💖

-find all things Eddie Munson x Barbie!Reader here✨

Eddie let’s out a sigh of pure exhaustion as he closes the driver’s side door of his van. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the headrest of his seat and he honestly debates on taking a ten minute Power Nap before driving home to his small, lonely one bedroom apartment. His thoughts are interrupted by a loud squealing noise causing him to open his eyes and what he sees in front of him makes him question if he actually is asleep or not.

“Oh no.” Your voice is full of panic as your hot pink convertible begins to have black smoke billow from the engine. “No no no…don’t do that.” Eddie raises his eyebrow as he watches you talk to your car as if it’s actually going to fix the problem. “I knew I should’ve picked my bike.” You get out of your car and Eddie can’t help but feel his eyes goes wide as he sees your outfit, it’s a pink mini skirt with a white and pink crop t shirt and pink heels.

“This is clearly a dream.” He mumbles as he waits to see what you’re going to do, he knows he probably looks like a creep but he’s too tired to really care. He watches as you bend down and look at your tires and he has no clue as to why. “What the hell?” He’s unbuckling his seatbelt as he watches you walk towards your trunk and stare into it after you open it.

“Something in here must be wrong.” You state as you place a hand on your hip. “Oh maybe it’s you? You’re too heavy or something?” You ask yourself as you reach inside the trunk and pick up your hot pink suitcase that has most of your wardrobe in it.

“Uh I don’t think your suitcase is the reason your engine has smoke coming from it.” You turn your head and Eddie is taken back by how gorgeous you are, another reason he thinks he’s actually dreaming because no way someone looking like you decided to just take a trip through Hawkins. “I’m Eddie.” He adds making you smile.

“Hi! I’m Barbie!” You give him a little wave as he not so subtlety looks you up and down. “Do you like my outfit?” You ask when you see Eddie’s eyes land on your t shirt. Eddie’s cheeks go red as he clears his throat and takes a step around you so he can open the hood of your car.

“You’re overheated.” He explains as he looks at your engine, he hears the sound of your heels on the sidewalk and he’s not sure why it makes him nervous the closer it gets.

“Oh I’m fine I actually don’t even sweat.” You reassure him as you put on your pink heart shaped sunglasses. Eddie leans over so he can look at you to see if you’re just messing with him but he can tell by the smile you’re giving him that you’re being serious.

“Uh I was talking about the car.” He adds making you just tilt your head at him. “Just give me a few minutes and you should be good to go.” You smile and clap your hands together out of excitement as Eddie gets busy fixing your car.

“Do you happen to know where I’m at? I took a left turn on my snowmobile and somehow ended up back in my dream car but I think I was supposed to get in a boat.” Eddie decides right then and there that he really must be dreaming because none of that made sense minus the dream car because you had already told him you’re name is Barbie.

“You’re in Hawkins sweetheart.” You just smile as you look around and wave at the people who are looking at you as the drive by.

“It’s Barbie remember? Not sweetheart…that’s a cute name but it’s just not mine.” Eddie is happy he can hide his embarrassment behind your car’s hood. “Hawkins…I like it here.” You mumble to yourself as Eddie closes the hood making you jump a bit at the loud noise. “Can I see your dream house?” You ask making Eddie laugh and rub at the back of his neck as you look at him with big hopeful eyes.

“It’s called an apartment.” He explains as he hands you back your car keys. “You can uh follow me there if you’d like?” You take the keys and look from them back to Eddie who’s raising an eyebrow at you. “What’s wrong?” He asks as you look at your car.

“I don’t know how to drive…in the real world.” And with that Eddie just takes the keys from your hand and puts them in his pocket before turning and grabbing your suitcases from the trunk. “You’re so strong.” Eddie has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at your comment because he knows you actually mean it in a nice way and not a sarcastic way.

“Thanks Barbie.” Is all he says as you follow him across the street towards his van.

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miheartsedthings · 3 months

Text

Song: Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez

Billy x Shy (slightly) Nyctohobic Reader SFW (Minors DNI)

Summary: You and Billy only met a week ago (the day you started community service) and you never talk to him, that is until the night you're cleaning the community center and the power goes out.

My submission to @corroded-hellfire Valentine's event! ;)

Words: 3,365

“It's your own fault, but 500 hours for parking tickets is fucking bullshit.”

Carmen takes a generous pull from her cigarette, a bright red cherry glowing in the dark. She draws the smoke in deep and lets it billow from her nostrils like some great dragon. As if it were purer than the air around you. The baseball field is dark, an orange lamp post on the little street beyond the fences. You sit on the ice-cold bleachers, chill biting right through your thin sweatpants and pullovers, numbing you to the bone.

“I can't believe you're going.”

You say to the dark. You reach for the bottle of crown between your sneakered feet and take another swig.

“Yeah well, no one told you to get community service right after graduation. Otherwise, you could start with the rest of us.”

“Who knew Hawkins took parking so seriously.”

She chuckled, her face obscured by smoke and darkness. She chuckled and didn't even cough.

“Talk to Hargrove yet?”

You took another long drink and cringed a little.

“Nope.”

She chuckled again, but louder, blossoming into a full-hearted laugh.

“Seriously? You lost that bet fair and square. If you don’t tell him, it’s friendship treason.”

“I swear, I’ll tell him.”

“How?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

She shook her head, then put out her spent cigarette and grabbed your hand. You walked that way; hands clasped, joints stiff with cold, the way you had every night since graduation a few months back. Be it from parties or hours on the bleachers talking about any and everything. Carmen had been your best friend since moving there from Chicago mid-semester. In the morning, she'd be going off to college and you already missed her so much it made your throat ache.

You stopped on her darkened lawn and she turned to you.

“Do me a favor,” she said, fishing her crumpled pack of lucky strikes from her front pocket and slapping them into your hand. “Keep my last lucky.”

You look at the white and red pack, it's plastic crinkled, the integrity of the carton broken down into a soft, malleable thing.

“For luck?” The question isn't a question and you smile when you look at her, pocketing the pack. A slow grin spreads across her face.

“Hell yeah. Good fuckin luck.”

. . .

The clouds are dark and low, threatening rain at any minute.

“It’s child endangerment having us out here in a storm.” Ricky, one of the other ‘volunteers’ sneers this at the probation officer, interrupting his speech about your assignment.

The officer cuts his eyes at him.

“A, you’re working inside the community center. B, you’re 23. All of you are old enough to know better.”

You're messing with the pack of cigarettes in the pocket of your orange jumper. The sky does look sinister, and you’re here much closer to sunset than normal. The community center wouldn’t reschedule their afterschool program, leaving the group to wait until dinnertime.

“You’ll work in teams of two. Two on the second floor, two on the main, two in the basement.”

The girl beside you raises her hand, her pink manicure glittering in the sun.

“My doctor says I can’t be in dark, dusty places. I have a note.”

The officer regards her with annoyance.

“Jess and Thomas, take main,” he says, “David and Ricky you two have the attic, and.”

It’s then that he looks around, realizing you're the last person there. He rolls his eyes. “Anybody seen Hargrove today?”

Of the fourteen days of service, Billy has only shown up about 8, and only half of those was he on time. When you’d first moved to Hawkins, Billy stood out immediately. The California transplant who took over the school. It’s a shame he insisted on acting like a dickhead because he was a serious hottie, and there was a lack of eye candy around here. In any case, your paths never crossed. However, that didn’t stop you from admiring him from afar and developing a strong, embarrassing crush. Then, there’s the thing only Carmen knows about. The it you're required to confess to him. Somehow.

The probation officer goes inside to make a phone call and the rest of you relax. You and Jess hop up to sit on the railing along the wheelchair slope.

“You think he’s coming today?” You ask her. She’s adjusting her jumpsuit, trying to make it look more flattering somehow.

“If he does can we switch partners? All Tommy talks about is friggin Dukes a Hazard.”

You laugh.

“Be my guest, his energy is a bit much for me, anyway.”

“Oh, yeah.” her eyes twinkle mischievously “It’s a lot, right? But in a good way. Like a mouth full of hot pizza.”

“You like that feeling?”

“You don’t? It’s nice to be a little overwhelmed sometimes.”

Just as she’s saying this, you get a whiff of smoke, and then she yelps, scrambling away from the rail and grabbing her buttcheek. Billy stands on the other side, grinning, a mostly-gone cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“What?” he asks “Too much?”

His jumpsuit is hanging down, bunched around his waist. His white tee shirt is taut across his chest. Jess giggles and goes back to lean against the bar, she and Billy getting close.

“You like sneaking up behind girls and pinching their asses?”

“Only the cute ones.”

“Mr. Hargrove,” The probation officer is making his way over and you hop down from the railing “Nice of you to join us. You’re in the basement.”

“Um, actually, mister," Jess says "Y/N said she doesn’t mind switching partners.”

“Well, actually, I mind. Hargrove and L/N, in the basement.”

. . .

Billy is whistling while he lazily pushes a skinny vacuum across the short blue carpet. It had started raining the moment we got inside and it raged against the little storm windows near the ceiling. The basement is a small space with a chunky green couch in front of an old TV. Shelves of board games line one wall while on the other is a shelf of movies and an old stereo. You're dusting off the shelf and then move to the stereo, its buttons are all dirty and gross.

“God, this thing is old.” You say, not expecting Billy to hear you, but he does. He switches off the vacuum and comes over, leaning down over your shoulder to look at it. He's close enough to feel his body heat. You smell his cologne and the familiar cigarette smoke.

He glances at you, and even though you look away quick you know he caught you staring.

“Let's see what we got.”

He flicks on the stereo and navigates to a station blaring metal.

“Fuck yes,”

He cranks the music up and starts bopping his head and swirling his hips. You can't help but laugh, and when he sees you looking pleased he smirks and hams it up even more.

“This is not a party!” The parole officer yells down the steps as he comes down. He rounds the corner but Billy doesn't bother to stop dancing, in fact he turns and aims his rolling hips at the officer.

“What's wrong with a little party?” He asks.

You turn the radio off and Billy looks at you like he's surprised you're obeying. You look away.

“Thank you, Ms. L/N. Now, I'm gonna step away for a little while, I'm needed at the courthouse. Can I trust you two to stay down here until the job is done?”

“When exactly is that?” You ask. “I mean, are we supposed to be dusting everything? Cuz that's gonna take all night.”

He sighs.

“Look, just straighten up, clean the windows, make it look nice.”

“Do we have glass cleaner?”

“Are you gonna sass me all night?”

The officer’s tone clips, suddenly, stinging. It makes you look down.

“We got it covered, why don't you run along?” Billy says, already turning his back on the officer, who stares angrily after him for a moment before leaving.

You get back to dusting, embarrassed into silence. Billy wasn't even pretending to work anymore. He rifled through the board games and then sauntered over to the movies and did the same.

“What’d you do, anyway?” He asked, coming up beside you. You looked up at him, and he smirked down at you like he expected something bad.

“Parking tickets.”

His face fell.

“Fuckin tickets? Damn, and here I thought you were interesting.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Sorry to disappoint.” You moved over to the TV and started brushing it off with a paper towel. “What'd you do? Fight somebody?”

“Is that what I look like, to you?” He teased, following you, “You think I'm some jerk who goes around lookin for fights?” He circled in front of you, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help smiling.

“Ya know,” He leaned against the TV, looking up at you with those ocean-blue eyes. “I remember you.”

You stare at him in disbelief for a moment, flustered by his undivided attention.

“Yeah?” You got back to dusting, nervous about the way your blood was rushing. “Well, I was around, and you were around,” you rambled. He closed the distance between you again and snatched the paper towel from your hand. Balling it up, he tossed it around his back and caught it over his shoulder like it was a tiny basketball.

“You gave a speech at that assembly.”

“You remember that?”

You try to hide how pleased you are.

“What, among all the other thrilling shit going on at Hawkins High?”

“I thought you were more of a ‘parties and babes’ kinda guy.”

“Yeah, well. That shit gets boring, too.”

He takes a step closer, trailing his gaze up to your eyes and lingering there with intention. He can tell that his presence makes you nervous, and in the quiet moment that settles, he smirks a little. Thunder claps, making you yelp and jolt, you’re so close to Billy that you can’t help bumping into his chest. He catches you, his hands on your arms.

“Whoa,” he says with a chuckle “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little storm?”

You push away from his touch.

“Of course not.”

You went to the little bucket of cleaning supplies near the vacuum to look for glass cleaner you already knew wasn’t there. It was dark out, and you were trying not to make it obvious that you were worried about getting home. The bucket offers paper towels, wet wipes, and a couple of sponges. What exactly are you expected to do with this?

“I thought you’d be back in Chicago by now.”

Billy was settling onto the couch, his feet up on the coffee table. Wind howled against the building and you looked to the storm window just in time to see a flash of lightning. Good, this time when the thunder comes you won’t jump like an idiot.

“Yeah, me too. But we’re residents now, and there’s no way my parents can afford out-of-state tuition.” You sigh and look back to the bucket, eager for something to keep you busy. “Not like I miss it, anyway.”

“Not a big city girl?”

“The weather sucked half the year, and people were weird. Maybe it was just my school but it seemed like everyone wanted to take advantage whenever they could. Just trying to use you and get to the next best thing.”

“Sounds like LA. Buncha wannabes.”

“I thought you came from the OC?”

A slow smile drew across his lips.

“Torrence,” he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “What else do you think you know about me?”

Your secret flashed through your mind.

“I’m sure you know what kind of reputation you have.”

“Fuck,” He grumbled, half a broken cigarette between his fingers.

“Your last?”

“Wouldn’t be my life if it wasn’t my fuckin last.”

Your hand went to your pocket. Thank you, Carmen.

“Here.” You went to him and offered the pack. He looked up at you, the split cigarette hanging from his perfect lips. He smirked and accepted the cigarette.

“Look at you, bein unpredictable.”

You gave up on cleaning and sat next to him. Just as he was lighting the cigarette, the room went dark. You jolted, letting loose a little yelp. Upstairs, Jess shrieks. The room is so dark for a moment you can’t see anything, then Billy flicks his lighter and you can see a little of his face.

“Knew it. You’re scared.”

“We should check on Jess.”

You stood, but there was barely any light coming in from the two storm windows and you could barely see in front of yourself. Billy’s hand came to your waist and you jolted again.

“It’s just me,” he said calmly, wrapping his arm around your waist, which you allowed. Let’s face it, you're creeped out and his body feels solid and warm. The two of you make your way to the stairs, only to reach the top and find the door locked.

“Jess?”

You knocked hard, hoping she could hear you.

“Y/n?” Her voice came to the door. You heard her try the handle. “I can’t open it!” she yelled, on the verge of panic.

“All the doors up here are locked,” Tommy added. “Dave and Rick are stuck in the attic, too.”

“Dammit! I can’t be under this pressure!” Jess cried.

“Do you have to yell?”

“Shut up Tommy!”

The two went on bickering on the other side of the door.

“Why don’t you two freaks break a window or somethin?” Billy yelled, shutting them up.

“We-we’ll give it a shot,” Tommy called back “Give us a sec.”

Their voices receded, Billy groaned and the cherry end of his cigarette glowed as he took a drag. you were close in the narrow stairway, his arm still around you, as if it belonged there.

“Since when d’you smoke?” He asked.

“I don’t. That’s courtesy of Carmen Bailey.”

“Ah, yeah. I remember her. Her mom’s at the pool every day in the summer.”

The thought makes your stomach fall.

“Did you ever…?”

Even though you can’t see him, you know he’s smirking.

“Just another rumor.”

You wonder what would happen if you told him right now. It could go well. If what the woman said so long ago had been true, then it had to go well. But what if she was lying? A shiver ran through you.

“You cold?”

“Hm? No. I’m fine.”

He pulled you closer, your shoulder against his chest. God, he’s so warm. A loud bang made you jolt again and Billy stroked his thumb against your side, filling the stairwell with lucky strike smoke. What a thing when cigarette smoke becomes comforting. Another loud bang. No shattering glass.

“It didn’t work!” Jess cried with desperation in her voice.

“Fuck,” Billy mumbled.

“What do we do?” Tommy asked.

“Just wait for the officer to come back.” You said.

“Have you seen what it looks like out there? He’s not coming back. Fucker just left us.” Jess might’ve been crying real tears.

“At least you’re not in the basement,” You added with a little laugh.

“As if I wouldn’t kill to trade places with you.” She said.

You and Billy went back down to the couch and settled in. Officially stuck. He kept his hand on you in some way, on your hip and then on your thigh when you sat down. You sat together in silence, and you watched the glow of his cigarette wind down to his lips until it was gone. You don’t know where he put it out. Then there was just the sound of the storm. The rain and an occasional flash of lightning. The thunder which made you tense for just a moment each time. Billy could feel that tension, you knew because every time he would message your thigh, reminding you he was there.

“I’m really glad you never hooked up with Carmen’s mom. She’s my best friend and it’d be really awkward.”

He laughed.

“Best friend, huh?”

“Yeah. Since day one. You weren’t here the first couple of days I started but it was weird. This town treats new people like aliens.”

“Think I don’t know? Weirdass cornfield fucks.”

You belly-laughed and he chuckled a bit, too.

“Well, to be fair they didn’t stand a chance against you. Nothing could’ve prepared them for hurricane Hargrove.”

“Hurricane Hargrove,” he said, testing the nickname “I like it. You came up with that?”

“It was here when I arrived. You’re the best thing about this place.”

You hadn’t meant for it to sound so intimate, but suddenly there was just the sound of the rain and something fluttered in your chest. Billy’s hand moved a little higher on your thigh, kneading the muscle.

“Anyway, Carmen’s great. That’s why I hate not starting classes with her. We’re supposed to share a dorm.” He doesn’t answer, his hand is still feeling your thigh and your face is getting hot. “Are you excited for school?”

“Did you hear the question you just asked?”

You laughed nervously.

“I just mean, aren’t you looking forward to getting out of Hawkins? Starting your life somewhere else? I mean, what do you wanna be?”

He sighed.

“Uh, fuck, I don’t know. I wanna…not be a prick.”

“Decent goal.”

He scoffed.

“Should be easy, right?” He was quiet for a moment, and in the quiet, your hand came down over his. Your eyes were adjusting and you could make out his outline. That curly hair. “I’m here ‘cause of my dad. We got in a fight…that asshole started it but the second I fought back he said ‘You’re a man now, you’re gonna face real consequences for your actions’...called the cops. Charged me with assault.”

You stroked your thumb over his knuckles.

“Sounds like a piece of shit.”

“Biggest I’ve ever met.” he said, “So, I don’t know where I’ll go, what I’ll do. I’m just not stayin here. And he’ll be lucky if he sees me on his deathbed.”

You're filled with the urge to lift his hand to your lips, to kiss the length of his arm, and find his mouth in the dark. Would you get that far? Would he stop you?

“There’s something I should tell you.”

The words popped out on their own, setting in motion this confession you couldn’t hold in.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice smooth and low, “Tell me.”

You took a breath.

“Promise not to laugh.”

“That bad?”

“Please. Promise.”

“I swear.”

He squeezed your hand with a reassuring firmness.

“My parents took me to Navy Pier when I turned eleven and I saw a psychic there. She told me,” A rush of nerves made you cringe “God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

“Just spill it.”

You groaned, dying of embarrassment.

“The psychic told me I’d meet my soulmate one day and until that day I’d suffer nightmares every single night. And she was right. I had nightmares that night and every night since then…until I found my soulmate…” quiet stretched out between you as you found the courage to finish, “Until I found you.”

The lights flicked back on, making you squint and cover your eyes from the sudden flare. Then you saw him. He looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time, recognizing someone.

“How d’you know it's me?”

After a moment’s silent embarrassment, you swallowed spit.

“You're in my dreams now. All the time.”

He looked down, and you're so nervous you wanted to chew off your lip. You stood, only to have Billy stand with you. He kissed you, and his tongue was smoke and spearmint. His lips were soft, and he took you around the waist, pulling you into a distant, smoky cologne while your arms were slung around his neck. Nothing had ever felt so perfect. He pulled back, though not far, and there was so much tenderness in his cool eyes.

“D’you think it’s stupid?” you asked.

“Y’know…all kinds of crazy shit happens around here. Someday I’ll tell you about it.”

#corroded-hellfire #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #billyhargrovesfw #fluff #cute #thunderstorm #billy #valentinesday #miheartsedthings #fanfic #story

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