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#hes like making me train someone to do my job when like. im doing my job perfectly well and several other ppl also already know it
halomancer-2 · 26 days
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I think being autistic does actually make me inherently better at animal handling because I, too, have been yelled at for growling and biting when everyone ignored my previous warnings and didn’t set clear boundaries
#my roommate’s always like Wow my dog responds so well to you!#yeah bitch I set clear expectations and consistent rules and I don’t yell at him#and I pay attention to his body language and the rituals he creates#literally it’s not that hard#ya she got him to train as a service dog LMAO#she doesn’t have the money to send him to a trainer and the time to do it herself#when I recommended she pull from the emergency fund (because his reactivity is getting BAD to the point of borderline aggression)#she was like ‘who has an emergency fund for their pet :P’#BITCH IDK IM NOT MAKING $30+ AN HOUR WITH A 401K AND FULL INSURANCE PACKAGE#THATS WHY I DONT HAVE A DOG??#just an in-the-works shrimp tank that I do in fact have a small emergency fund for#it’s your job as a responsible pet owner to attend to your animal’s needs. if you can’t do that you shouldn’t have a pet#and she fucking undermines the training /I/ give#like I was teaching him to find a toy when someone knocks at the door to redirect his energy and prevent barking#but now whenever he barks at the door she YELLS at him to find his toy#so I had to stop training that area because like. what the fuck am I gonna do???#notably I am the only person who can consistently get him to stop barking at the door#completely unrelated to the fact that I’m calm and give him treats when he stops barking#and comes over to me and chills out#goddddd I hate her she shouldn’t have any animals ever#anyways what was I saying.#oh yeah I’m the only person in this apartment who should ever be allowed to have a dog#this is also why I dont plan to get one! I recognize that the college life is simply incompatible with responsible dog ownership#(unless EVERYONE is REALLY onboard which. lmao good luck.)
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bobthebobking · 2 years
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hate my boss hate my boss hate my boss
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Everyone kept saying a bunch of things that made me feel bad about quitting but I slipped my resignation letter on the desk and RAN AWAY anyway
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byuntrash101 · 3 months
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big bad wolf
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f!reader x bangchan ft. stray kids smut | mdni 2.6k maybe you bit off more than you could chew when you hyped up your game to the owner of the campus’ infamous big dick owner nsfw tags under the cut
#5: huge dick + size kink (twt p☆rnlink) college!au, toxic ex bf!minho, frat boy!bangchan, alcohol consumption, one night stand, explicit consent asked and given, chan is really a tease, gentle dom!chan, daddy kink (i mean we're talking about chan here) , size kink (reader is smaller than chan), huge monster cock!bangchan, size training, protected sex (good job), oral (f), multiple orgasms, some humor at the end ♡
a/n : i was like this 🥴🥴🥴 writing this because ughhh im in love with this bangchan! wanna see the other entries for the event? check out the link <3
3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation
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“I mean being single is great and all” you said while downing the rest of the ungodly cocktail your best friend mixed for you earlier at the party. Before she left with Jisung. “But like I miss the toxic sex, ya know?” Christopher nodded his head while he took the empty cup from your hand to set it at the table beside the both of you on the couch.
The party was over so to speak. Everyone had left or was just passed out on random surfaces all over the frat. ΝΣΒ (nu sigma beta) was the frat that organized the best parties on campus. Well the second best parties but ΩΔΦ (omega delta phi) had Minho going to their parties and well you were finally over him that wasn't to run into him at a random party to drink and hook up with him again. You were determined to break free of the destructive cycle. That’s how you came to attend the parties here and met Christopher and his frat bros Changbin and Jisung. These three were quite the trio. Well not right now because Jisung was probably fucking your best friend somewhere and Changbin was passed out over the keg. Only Christopher remained somewhat (if not entirely) sober. He didn’t like alcohol that much, he claimed.
“Yeah I get you dude. Toxic sex is the best…” Christopher sighed. “But why though?”
“I don’t know man!” you said with a pout. “Also my ex was like… packing” the alcohol in your system was making it harder to perceive the fine line between sharing past experiences and simply oversharing. But Christopher wasn’t phased by it at all. On the contrary he was… intrigued.
“Really?” He questioned.
“Bro, he was real big. Like real big.” you said, closing your eyes trying to recall the extraordinary appendix Minho was blessed with. “The biggest I’ve ever seen really. I just miss that…” you said, finally opening your eyes again, purposefully avoiding thinking about your ex’s devil dick for too long before you drunkenly run to the other side of campus and to him again. When you open your eyes you see Christopher looking at you with an indecipherable expression.
“Well yeah. I miss someone that’s used to dealing with guys that are on the bigger end of the spectrum” Christopher was speaking very carefully, he was very clearly trying to hint at something but at the same time he didn’t want to come off as pressing or bragging.
You raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?” you asked as neutral as you could be, but still picking up on Christopher’s hint.
“Well you know. Girls always say it’s what they want. But like when I pull it out they either just run away or I mean they pull through but I can tell they’re not enjoying it. So I usually cut things short.” 
It’s true you heard one or two rumors about Christopher also being on the bigger end but you never paid attention to them. Now, they were suddenly running back to you.
“I just wanna be with a girl that's kinky and that you know… just enjoys herself with me”
Suddenly you were looking at him differently. You looked at his big biceps resting crossed over his chest and the sleeveless loose fitted white top. He was wearing a cap that covered his soft brown curls but they were still peaking at the back of his head and around his reddened ears. 
All of a sudden you were painfully conscious of Chris’ sheer size. Even though he was simply sitting next to you his large sturdy shoulders occupied the space on the couch. You found your eyes wandering to his lower half where his muscular thighs generously filled the black basketball shorts. And eventually your gaze wandered to his groin where you did notice a particularly remarkable bulge.
“You know, bro?” Chris took off the cap briefly, combing his hair with one large hand before flipping it backwards and patting it back on. He looked a little bit frustrated.
“Yeah I get it.”
Silence settled.
“Looks like we could like… help each other… maybe” you started carefully. That was uncharted territories, you didn’t know how Chris was going to react but you were a little intoxicated and that made you forget about the consequences or more like postpone thinking about them. You’ll do that tomorrow.
A cocky smirk spread on Chris’ face. An expression you had yet to witness. Usually he was all about wholesome smiles and cute laughs. But this one, this expression stirred excitement and thrill within you.
“Wanna see the big bad wolf?” Chan said right before sending you a cheeky wink that left you speechless. Before he started laughing out loud and lightly pushed you on the arm. “Just messing with you” Chris said, returning to the sunny smile.
“Why are you all cocky for anyway?” you outbid. “I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t seen” you said, shrugging, eyes a little defiant. And Chris’ smirked returned to his handsome face just as quick. He felt a tingle in his lower half. He enjoyed that attitude you had right now. Wouldn’t it be fun to make you swallow those words? Amongst other things…
“Think you can handle it, babygirl?” Chan said, extending his massive arm behind your head on the couch and leaning on to you, making you feel even smaller. You took a whiff of his cologne, the alluring aromas or vanilla, cedar and citrus casting a spell on you.
“Yeah of course I can” you said, steady voice oozing all the confidence in the world. Making Chris chuckle again. 
***
Well maybe you couldn’t…
That is what you thought when Christopher dragged you to his room as the early rays of the dawning sun were licking the blinds. 
“Having second thoughts, babygirl?” Christopher said, smiling down at you while you looked up at him and sat on his bed. The loose fitting top was all he had left on him. Even the cap was now littering the ground, letting the soft brown curls loose. and you silently thanked the heavens for this. Maybe if he would have been completely nude you would have died right there.
He was absolutely breathtaking: large shoulders, thick arms and veiny forearms going down to his big hand holding the absolute monster that usually peacefully rested between his sturdy thighs. But right now it was awakened, and awaiting.
The thing was not only incredibly massive but also unbelievably long. Thick veins ornamented the length of it from the base to the red and dripping tip.
“So am I bigger than your ex?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. 
“Um, yeah a little bit I think” 
Lie. Big fat lie.
Christopher knew that. He knew that very well but he appreciated that you kept up with that act. He found that amusing.
“Perfect! Let’s get started then” 
“What?” you said as he wrapped his warm hands around both your wrists, gently pushing you down on the mattress until you laid there with only your feet hanging off the bed. He put your wrists at each side of your face, laying his weight over you. He was heavy, but it was comforting, reassuring. You felt small but also safe under him. The heat from his body ignited a fire within you.
“Don’t worry babygirl” Chris whispered leaning into your ear. You felt his hot breath fanning your burning cheek. “Daddy will get you nice and ready for him.” You felt yourself flutter at the name. You were definitely responding to it.
Christopher licked big swipe on your ear making your breath itch in your throat and you bit your lip to repress a moan. Fortunately you didn’t have to think about it too much because Chris kissed you instantly, one of his hands leaving your wrist to wrap around your throat, his thumb pulling on your chin to open your mouth. You didn’t fight back, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like energy drinks and tropical fruit juice. Now you knew for sure he was completely sober. But Chris, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore, because he sure felt drunk right now. Drunk in you, in this kiss. He threw himself into you, moaning in your mouth as you arched your back and he rolled his hips into you, pressing his hard cock onto your hip.
Before you could think too much about it Chris stripped you of your clothes, one article after the other until you found yourself completely exposed to him. Chris got up and took a step back to admire your body under the rays of the sun piercing through the blinds. You were gorgeous, stunning and he couldn’t wait to finally be inside you.
He then pulled on your hips to bring you on the edge of the bed where he kneeled on the ground and gently parted your legs. 
“Fuckk” he cursed under his breath when he saw your cute little pussy already glistening with need and lightly twitching. He only wanted one thing: to taste you. So he did.
He first laid a gentle kiss on your clit which made you jolt up and he smirked against you in satisfaction.
“Awww baby. Are you always this sensitive or is it daddy doing that to you?” He licked a large stripe from your entrance to your clit, staying there for a second giving more attention to the sensitive bud. 
“F-fuckkk. No it’s y-you” you breathed in, arching your back and fisting the sheets beneath you. “Daddy is doing this to m-me”
Christopher felt his heavy length jump just as the mention of the word in your mouth, it sounded so fucking good, so fucking sexy. It made him want to please you, be good for you.
He licked and swirled his tongue on your swollen bud earning more moans and pants from you. Until your cunt was throbbing against his lips and your heart was beating in your ears.
“Im… Fuck… gonna c-cum” you said lifting your face to see Christopher looking up at you from between your thighs. 
“Go ahead baby. Cum for daddy”
You came undone at the end of his tongue, your walls fluttering around nothing, thick slick gushing out of you and covering Chris’ face. 
“God fuck.. don’t- s-stop” you begged, tensing up your legs and your orgasm ripped through you. Chris didn't stop there, instead he gradually slowed down to help you down your high at your own rhythm.
“Fuckkk... Please daddy I need you inside me” you said looking at him. And he got back on his feet again. With disconcerting ease he grabbed you at the hips and flipped you on your stomach and lifted you so you were on all fours. 
He reached for his night stand where he took out of one of the drawers a condom and tore the wrapper hastily. 
“Was hoping you’d say that babygirl”
As soon as the condom was on he brought his tip to your soaked and fluttering little hole. You were feeling desperately empty and you wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of Chris’ big fat cock. You wiggled your hips to urge him to fill you up.
“Are you ready baby?” he asked, making sure one last time you were still on board. 
“Yess daddy.. Yes please. Don't make me beg” You said, despair dripping from your lips. And Christopher resisted the urge to do just that. Maybe another time.
He started to push his huge cock inside you and you braced yourself feeling your walls expand beyond belief to accommodate the thick and hard length. Very slowly Chris continued to progress inside you. You gritted your teeth, fisting the sheet even harder and exhaling a faint complaint.
“It’s okay baby. You can do it. Big breaths, ok?” Chris encouraged you before continuing.
Thanks to Chris’ prepping,  the pain was bearable. Now you didn't even have a single shadow of a doubt left. Chris was indeed bigger than Minho. 
Soon enough he managed to push the whole monstrous thing inside you.
“There you go baby” Chris said gently stroking your back. “That’s my good girl. Say when daddy can move okay, darling?” he laid a soft kiss to the crown of your back, his voice appeared to be somewhat strained. Your tightness was also hard to handle on his part.
“Ok” you huffed quietly.
You took a couple of seconds to get used to him but eventually the pain disappeared. 
“You… can move”
Slowly Chris started to pull out only to push right back in when his tip was just barely hinging in. 
“Oh- fuckfuckfuck” you panted. 
“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for daddy” Chris said, pulling out once again.
He repeated the process until he felt you relax around him and the sharp breaths and sighs turned into moans and whines. 
“Fuckk so… so fucking big” you said arching your back while Chirs’ big hands wrapped around your waist to pull you back on his cock everytime he was pushing in. 
“Fuck your little cunt is so wet and tight for me baby”
“Hmmm daddy” you whined. “Please faster”
“Fuck so fucking naughty” he said as started to fuck you faster, deeper, dragging your precious nectar on his cock and making you moan louder.
“Fuck I won’t last long baby”
“Pleasepleaseplease daddy I'm almost there” 
Chris circled your hip and brought two fingers to rub circles on your clit, you threw your head back, completely letting go of the last bit of sanity you had left. Chris felt you throbbing around his cock.
“Fuck daddy…I'm cumminggg” 
“That's it cum for daddy” Chris said, his voice was strained as he felt you flutter around him, urging him to let got. Spurts of hot cum rushed into the condom as he hips became erratic, as continuously fucked into you until you were both satifed and out of breath. 
You collapsed and he rolled next to you, taking the condom off and tying it before rushing to the bathroom and returning with a warm towel and handing it to you. 
“Fuck that was… amazing” he told you with a bright smile that you knew. 
“So you like being called daddy? Now I understand why you’re into kinky girls.” you said, raising an eyebrow, teasingly.
“Oh– Hm.. well. Yeah… sorry it was like in the heat of the moment” he scratched the side of his face before ruffling his brown curls.
“Oh don't worry about it. I liked it” 
“We should like.. do that again sometimes… I mean if you're down”
It’s funny how he started all cocky and confident and now he was the one stumbling on his words and being flustered. You found that cute.
“Yeah we should”
“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???” You heard Jisung’s loud voice coming from the hall. “WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR PRACTICE” He fumbled with the door handle. “WHY IS YOUR DOOR CLOSED?”
“Get the fuck out Jisung. I’m busy” Chris said and you giggled.
“Bro, I think he’s fucking someone in there” Jisung said, this time to someone else.
“OI, MATE WHO’S IN THERE WITH YOU?? IS IT Y/N??” Felix’ unmistakably low voice asked.
“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT“ Chris shouted.
“Fuck… I think you made him mad.” Felix said.
“Bro how the fuck is it me? You the one who insisted” You heard the two voices getting further.
“Don’t pay attention to them” Chris said and you both laughed and went back to bed, to get a well deserved couple of hours of sleep before a day full of college classes.
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3k celebration | skz masterlist | navigation
a/n: thanks for reading babe if you enjoyed reblig or leave a comment because delulu is the solulu <3
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rosedom · 2 months
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AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!
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"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .
A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast. 
The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.
“Madame, you have a serious—” 
“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.
Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)
But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.
Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted. 
“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days. 
“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now. 
You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.” 
The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”
You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore. 
Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway. 
“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”
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“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.” 
As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.
“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—
“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare. 
Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull. 
“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap. 
He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines. 
Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking. 
“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”
“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis. 
“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”
You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”
Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.
Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.
“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch. 
“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”
Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you. 
And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne. 
You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins. 
He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.
It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts. 
(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)
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Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip. 
You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”
“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.
He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing. 
He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.” 
“Lyn—” 
He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”
Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.” 
He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”
You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.
“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you. 
He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.
“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”
“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.” 
“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”
“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.
You hum at him to go on. 
“‘m already prepped.” Oh. 
“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”
And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off. 
He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs. 
“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”
He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.
“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”
With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled. 
He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”
Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”
“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you. 
“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.
From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down. 
You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”
“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.” 
He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)
“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.
You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”
The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence. 
You’re so, so glad to love him. 
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“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?” 
He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward. 
Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”
You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”
With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt. 
“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”
Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”
He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?” 
“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.” 
You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.
“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear. 
“Patience, pup.” 
And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”
“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”
The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture. 
However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”
“Charging,” he mutters. 
You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?” 
With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed. 
He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”
Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you. 
You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.
“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”
“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”
“Okay, okay—” 
You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”
He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat. 
And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you. 
Really, clean-up can wait. 
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i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^@^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL
13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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bigwishes · 8 months
Text
Pretty Boy's Mistake
Kye was you average university athlete, mainly there to get a degree a generic sports degree to get a job as a personal trainer in the high end gyms, he rarely went to his lecture but always got outstanding grades. It wasn't that he wasn't passionate about sports or health, in fact he had taught himself pretty much everything the university had to offer before he had even gotten there. He was only there for a piece of paper. He spent most of his time in the gym, lifting weights whilst also training some guys on the side for some cash in hand work but he always made sure to put his own workouts first. His body was almost perfect and he loved every inch of it.
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Although he wished he could be bigger. He saw some of the guys in the gym, how their tank tops looked like they could burst at any moment. One time he even saw a guys tank split because of an insane chest pump. He loved huge guys, wanted to be fucking huge like them. He would picture his gym crush and how his entire car would bounce and wobble when he squeezed his massive frame inside, he wanted a guy like that in his bed, he wanted to be bigger than that but a body like that would probably take him another 15 years to build and he wanted to enjoy and flaunt that size before he left uni.
Kye was in the gym when he saw a huge lumbering giant walk in. The man looked like a superhero right out of a comic and something possessed Kye out of no where. He followed the huge meathead to the locker room.
Kye stood there seeing the giant block almost all the lockers on a wall his back was so wide and Kye got nervous, a lump formed in his throat and he spat out what he had to say.
"so...how do I get as big as you bro"
the massive dude turned around looking around the locker room checking to see if he was talking to someone else, he let out a thunderous chuckle.
"you talkin to me pretty boy?"
Kye grew red in the face "y-yeah man, look I been lifting for a few years and I really wanna get fucking huge like you man"
"aaa just keep at it guy, youll be massive like mean real soon"
"how old are you?"
"Im 22 bro"
"22!" Kye yelled "bro im almost 23 how the fuck you get so big man, you gotta tell me your secret"
"hmmm, look, you're kinda cute bro so, I'll let you in on a little secret, for a trade of course"
"Anything man, anything, Ive tried everything I know with diet and routine and I'm just not swelling up like other guys are"
"I'll give you my secret if you tell me why you wanna be so big, annnnd, for a date" the large man raise his eyebrow and walked closer to Kye.
Kye's heart started pounded as he imagined what it'd be like to have his skull crushed by the giant bodybuilder's monstrous thighs
"o-okay, ummm, phew, is it hot in here?" kye tripped and stumbled over his words like it was his first time ever talking to a guy.
"so, why you wanna be big pretty boy?"
Suddenly the man had is arms leaning on the doorframe behind Kye forming an arch over him looking down at him.
"eer, well, I-I like size and, I like guys with size and I wanna be big y-ya know" Kye tried to avoid eye contact as the massive brute leaned in
"So you like big guys hey? why don't you keep your lil jock bod, let a mountain like myself have fun with you"
"Because I ain't no bodies bottom bitch, believe me man, if I was as big as you, I'd of already throw you against the wall and you'd be beggin for it"
The massive meat head in front of him bit his lip
"so you promise, once you're as big as me you'll be tossing me around?"
Kye smirked trying to keep up the confident façade
"yeah bro, but gotta warn you, I'm already a catch, once guys see me with arms tearing out of my shirt and my huge muscled fat ass squeezed into tight gym shorts you'll probably have some competition"
"oh I like a cocky meathead"
the man turned around walking back to his gym bag pulling out a small vial of orange fluid, he handed it to kye
"I'm Jason by the way"
"What is this?"
"My secret mixture, drink it man, it'll make you real big...and give you that fat juicy ass you want"
Kye instantly downed the drink and gave Jason a wink.
"Alright, Im gonna go workout man"
"See you tomorrow pretty boy" Jason laughed as Kye walked out.
Kye was stepping into his car, having to stop to catch his breath, he worked harder than he ever had. He knew the vitamin shot he was given wasn't going to do anything but it was at least energising. Kye felt a strange tingling, as the veins on his pelvis swelled with blood pumping downwards. Kye gritted his teeth feeling like he was about to get hard and suddenly he watched as his package swelled and doubled in size in his pants.
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Kye jumped in his car feeling his thighs and arms swell. Like his pump was subsiding but his muscles weren't shrinking down to normal size.
He drove home, gritting his teeth and occasionally grunting the entire way.
Kye stepping of of his car feeling his shirt tight around his chest and arms. He let out a tired sigh feeling strange and walked inside. Kye saw himself in the mirror, his shirt tightly pulled across body. He pulled off his shirt seeing his abs slightly stretched out, rubbing his stomach watches his package swell again.
UUUUUGGGGhhhhhh He groaned.
"W-what the fuck is going on"
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Kye watches as his bulge swelled outwards in his pants straining against the fabric, as his stomach swelled outwards with it.
"W-WHAT THE FUCK MY, MY ABS"
Kye grabbed his stomach feeling it strain
UUUUUUUGGGGHHHH-UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP
Kye let out a painful groan that turned into a belch as tears started to form in his eyes, his perfect 6 pack was gone swelled out like he had been bulking all year round.
Kye couldn't hold back the belches escaping his mouth and with each on his body changed. His arms swelled bigger, his thighs swells bigger.
He watched helplessly in the mirror unable to stop the changes, no matter how hard he pushed his stomach trying to get it to shrink the only thing he managed to do was push out another belch. Kye mercilessly began scratching at his jaw and neck feeling an annoying itch take over. He was too busy watching as his body swelled up to notice the changes in his face. Kye finally looked up from his bloated stomach to see himself, hairy, big and bulky.
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"WHAT THE FUCK, I" Kye pinched the side of his waist in disbelief
BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPP
Kye's massive meaty hand felt is muscled gut vibrate as he belched. Feeling a surge of change again, but he didn't see himself get any bigger in the mirror, he heard a slight ripping noise and looked around. Turning to the side he saw the fabric of his gym shorts tight, torn and ripped over his massive muscular ass. His face turned bright red.
"Oh god..I'm...uuggh I'm like a fat bear"
Kye's stomach grumbled and he made his way to the kitchen poking and patting his gut hoping by some mirecal it would shrink and turn back into a six pack.
Kye sat in the gym locker room trying to hide his new burly body under bagging clothing. Embarrassed and hoping Jason would walk in at any moment. After about an hour Jason walked in.
"H-Hey Jason"
"Oh hey Pretty Boy, hows it feel bein big"
"I" Kye couldn't even finish his sentence before letting out a monstrous belch
"I didn't ask for this"
"yeah you did bro, you wanted to be big"
"AND NOW LOOK AT THIS, WHERE ARE MY ABS IM TUBBY" Kye lifted his shirt and poked at the muscled slab
"Man you aint tubby, you bulky, thick muscle"
"But I wanted my abs bro, I wanted to look like some pro bodybuilder not like some kinda burping werewolf"
Kye rubbed his gut cocking his mouth open belching causing Jason to laugh. Kye's face turned bright red
"Dude stop laughing and fucking do something, uuuggghhh"
"alright bro, quit the complaining I might have something for you"
"Anything is better than this man"
Jason handed Kye a vial filled with bright pink liquid
UUUURpp "so, this'll fix me?"
"Oh man, it'll give you the perfect body"
Kye looked at it suspiciously feeling the concrete wall he had for a stomach. He closed his eyes and downed, a few moments passed and Kye didn't feel much different, when suddenly the familiar sensation rose up from his gut to his throat.
UUUUUHHGG-UUUUUURRRRRPPPP
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Kye's eyes widen and his face turned white
"WHA-UUUUUURRRPPPP DID-UUUUURRRRRRPP YOU GIV- UUUURRRPP ME?!"
Kye tried to speak more but he struggled to form a full sentence from his constant belching
"Looking good man" Jason laughed
Kye, felt is rock hard bloated gut and heard the sound of tearing fabric as his muscles bulged out of his shit, soon he was left standing there in the gym locker room in nothing but his underwear.
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Kye looked at himself in the mirror disappointed by his huge muscle gut, he cocked his mouth open and belched.
Jason let out a booming laugh "bro you look like you take roids and smash 6 protein shakes hourly"
"bro why'd you do this" Kye sheepishly asked
"because you wanted to me big"
"then why not make me like you, why give me this huge gu-UUUUURRP"
"Coz you were cocky, and I find it hot when cocky guys get taken down a peg"
"oh" kye smiled "so now you've gotten you kick I can go back right?"
"nah, you were a pretty boy jock, now you can enjoy being a bulky cunt"
Kye went to walk away from the mirror, hearing his underwear start to rip around is massive muscled ass. That'll teach him to take stuff from strangers in the locker room.
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1onelypoet · 4 months
Text
stuck by the glue || Oscar Piastri smau
a/n: 1st ever tumblr post so the formating is weird and the album cover still says beabadoobe but whatever. hopefully it's good, tips are always welcome :) to be continued (maybe, possibly, probably)
singer!reader
fc: beabadoobe
yourusername
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liked by yourbff, clairo, oscarpiastri and others
yourusername thank u from the bottom of my heart seattle 💞 can't wait to be back :)
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yourbff ur so hot
yourusername you.
y/nswife y/n come home the kids miss u
yourfriend1 i have tickets for la teehee 🤭🤭
yourusername wonder how u got those...
laufey so proud
yourusername ily
y/nupdates what's 3 + 5 ‼️
oscarpiastri
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liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris and others
tagged landonorris, mclaren, silverstonecircuit
oscarpiastri P4 today! Thank you, Silverstone 🧡
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mclaren Great job, Oscar!!
oscarpiastri 🧡🧡
op81lvr slayyyy 🔥🔥
silverstonecircuit Can't wait to have you back on the track!
oscarpiastri can't wait to be back 👊
landonorris_fans the landoscar crumbs ☹️☹️
piastri.jpg HELP THEY LOOK LIKE HIGHLIGHTERS IN THE 2ND PIC
yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, oscarpiastri, yourbff and others
yourusername la u were insane. thank u thank u thank u. what a special way to end the tour 🌸endlessly grateful for everyone who made this possible. it's truly a dream come true <3
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taylorswift ❤️❤️❤️
yourusername TAYLORRRR 😭😭
yourbff the dress is everything
liked by yourusername
landoscar not to be delulu but why is oscar liking y/ns posts?? like this is the 2nd time...
oscarpastryyy I WAS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAY THIS OMGG y/nfangirl can he not be a fan? 💀 landoscar girl chill 💀💀
yourusername posted to their story
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[caption: homebound ☁️]
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oscarpiastri can't wait to see you 🩷 yourusername me toooo 🩷🩷🩷
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f1gossip
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tagged oscarpiastri
f1gossip Oscar Piastri spotted in NYC by fans. He is allegedly "just visiting" 👀
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carlando4ever finally a gossip post that isn't invasive or speculation
justaninchident it's a gossip acc what do u expect lmao
vroomleclerc we stan a king who actually makes time for his fans 👏
piastriswife STOP WE'RE IN THW SAME CITY IM HAVING A STROKE IMGGG
33verstappen33 shouldn't he be training 💀💀
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tagged yourbff, yourfriend1, yourfriend2
yourusername summer in nyc with my lovelies
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ihearty/n MA'AM???? WHO IS THAT?????
y/nupdates whoever it is, i hope they can fight
sabrinacarpenter 😍😍
yourfriend2 hot summer nights
yourusername mid julyyy yourfriend1 when you and iiiii were forever wildd
landoscar i see you in the likes oscar 👀
y/n4life pls god let it be just a friend 🙏
y/ntaylorsversion why are yall so obsessed with celebrities relationships, it's fucking weird 😐
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri quick recharge before Hungary
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piastrispastry just one chance. please.
logansargeant cannot believe you went to the us without me
oscarpiastri oops 😬
lnop_481 oh to be a malnourished pigeon in nyc 🥲
landonowins WHAT LMFAOO
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liked by oscarpiastri, troyesivan, gracieabrams and others
yourusername surpise! glue song out 2night ;)
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gracieabrams so excited 🎀
yourusername tysm gracieeee
sheplaysbass just saw someone fall to their knees in walmart
lizzymcalpine already crying
y/n_usa she's so real for this
ellefanning 💕💕
yourusername 🫶🫶
y/nnnieee just fell to my knees in walmart
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yourusername
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liked by phoebebridgers, y/nupdates, oscarpiastri and others
yourusername gluesong out now 🧸 this song means a lot to me, as does the person who inspired it (you know who u r, i love you more than you'll ever know), so i hope you like it 🎶 here's a little appreciation post for the love of my life ❤️
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y/n.com CAN HE FIGHT 🔪🔪🔪
yourbff ur still my wife tho 💋
yourusername ofc babygirl 💍💍
laufey feeling rlly single rn
laufeycore I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE
kaliuchis cutest song by the cutest girlie 💖
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oscarpiastri posted to their story
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[caption: great song!]
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yourusername i love u ❤️ oscarpiastri i love you more yourusername impossible oscarpiastri we'll have to debate it over dinner yourusername oscar piastri, r u asking me out on a date? oscarpiastri yes the 22nd works, right? yourusername counting down the hours oscarpiastri 😊
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joyaphoria · 1 year
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HQ BOYS: MEETING A PRETTY FAN
☆ includes: hinata & sakusa (cus im lazy)
☆ a/n: jeez i haven’t written one of these in a while ... anyways, i'm kinda dumb i realized sakusa's isn't technically a fan and neither is hinatas lol
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☆ HINATA like most, spent a lot of time training in the gym, spending a majority of his free time there. regardless of whatever time he decided it was time to go, there would still be a group of devoted fans waiting outside, desperate for a signature or even anything as simple as an acknowledgement. there were a lot more fans waiting outside that day, and he was immediately overcome by cheering and shoving the moment he stepped outside. as usual, he laughed and abided by the shouts, taking notebooks and papers and arms(?) to sign, pencils and markers alike shoved in his face, all of it apart of his routine. it isn’t until he finishes signing one paper and looks up per usual, does he take a second and pause. “could you write something encouraging, it’s for my little brother,” you explain as loudly as you can, as short and sweet as you can, what with the hungry fans bodying you so that they could have their turn next. hinata blinks quickly, yanking the paper back before you could get trampled, and scribbling his phone number right underneath his signature. “tell your little brother id love to give him that encouragement in person, in return for a date with his older sister.”
☆ SAKUSA��only gets his coffee at one cafe, and its the small family owned one near his condo. not only is it thoroughly cleaned and maintained, but it’s mostly empty in the morning, allowing him to tune it down on the disguises for once. fans are never usually a problem around here, except for the ocasional every now and then. it’s why when sakusa notices someone walk up to his little table while he scrolls through his phone, that he puts his hand out and doesnt even bother looking up. once he hears a snicker he turns his head upwards sharply, making eye contact with whoever dared to not only interupt his time of peace, but to mock him afterwards. he doesn’t say anything though, not when his eyes catch yours and he forgets what he was going to say. “hate to wound your precious little ego, but i don’t want your autograph. our machine broke so you’re not getting your coffee.” you huff. sakusa stares intently, cocking his head to the side. this cafe was owned and run by family only, and he’s never seen you in all the months he’s been buying his coffee here. he does somewhat remember the lady telling him though, that she had two sons and a daughter, the sons employed here while the daughter had her own job and came occasionally to help. she made a teasing joke of setting them up, mentioning how beautiful her daughter was, and though she might’ve been right about that one, she never mentioned that the woman in question was such a bi- “staring at me is not going to fix the coffee machine. unless you’re going to fix it, leave.” sakusa scoffs and stands up. motioning to leave, he pauses and turning back. he knows how to do a lot more than it looks.
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blingblong55 · 11 months
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Sweet Nothing- Rodolfo Parra (includes Philip Graves)
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Based on a request:
Look, as much as I love Philip Graves, he gives off jackass bitch energy. So, he leads on the reader (who's just fuckin adorable, wife energy, protect this one for the rest of your life vibes) before leaving them after a one night stand and then they meet again years later and reader changed into a badass boss bitch dommy mommy you'd wanna tap but she's fucking hostile af. Also dating Rudy, cuz Rudy's the only man who deserves to score a pre-Graves reader. Idk, im in my "fuck me up and you're next" era
A/N: Someone said I should use the lyrics of Sweet nothing, so...here it goes
F!Reader, fluff, angst, soldier! reader
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming
7 years ago, a few of your comrades and you had a huge victory. You all went to celebrate out by a local pub. It was fun, the drinks, the stories, laughs, the stupid songs you'd all sing, and then the stupid mistake of letting Graves take you home. You had a crush on him before, how when he smiles he would do so to the side. The way his hair was always well groomed and how his cologne never changed. You noticed his American southern accent, getting rougher when he was drunk like this. The way his hands wandering your thighs or back. So for you it was a dream to even have him offer himself to you.
If you can describe yourself from 7 years ago, you'd call her "sweet, innocent, caring, bubbly, and loving", and all that is true, well was true. The night with Philip was great, the way he assured you all night in bed that he'd take care of you. How his lips met yours, how he kissed you with so much delicateness it felt beautiful. "al'right, sweet thing, just close your eyes and rest now." Your head rested on his chest, his hand drawing small circles on your back. You felt content in his arms.
By morning, instead of waking up to him by your side, it was just you. A note and nothing else.
"That was fun, but just a one time thing:) -take care, Philip Graves"
You never knew it'd be just a one night stand with him, you'd expect more. Back then, you were only a 22 year old, still learning and understanding much of the military. You trusted him with your body that night, a innocent girl, not knowing she'd be robbed from something she held dear to her, her own young heart on a platter, eaten by the man Philip was.
By some miracle, a commander in Mexico had seen your work for Shadow company. Alejandro Vargas, a major at the time of him recruiting you and his friend, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, a captain at the time. Graves let you go, knowing that you'd ask for more and he was not wiling to give. In all honesty, after you left, he talked about his time with you, made fun of you the weeks after it had happened.
After that night with Philip and how he belittled you, even if he didn't know, you promised you'd never let that happen to you. All the men that approached you were quickly turned down. You only gave time to your job, training and to yourself. You treated men like the scum of the earth.
Belittled them if they ever spoke about you. "I'd shut it, because you are nothing more than a worthless, good for nothing piece of ass." All men at some point feared you, not making advances on you, except for one.
Rudy, although rejected by you more than 19 times, always came back. He never cared if you degraded him with your lemon filled words. He loved you for it, loved how you never spoke bad of yourself, standing tall and proud. Alejandro tried to tell him to stop pursuing you, but he is stubborn as he is cute.
With him, you were always more soft. Although at times you'd say mean things to him, you were never too mean. Because in him, you found your old self coming back. Begging to be let out, because all you wanted to do was cuddle with him, listen to his problems, kiss him, adore his very soul.
And to be honest, he worshipped the ground you walk on. He didn't care that he was a higher rank than you, no, he always said. "Yes ma'am", "No, ma'am", "Sorry ma'am", "You look beautiful/perfect, ma'am". In his eyes, you deserved all the shiniest of things this world could offer.
He loved how you would yell at rookies, but the second you saw a puppy, you'd turn all soft and would pet it for a long time. How one time he saw you baking and dancing to a melody in your head. Your puppy eyes when you would see a something adorable.
One night, there you were, ready to hop on your motorcycle when he approached. "R/N, uhm...do you mind if maybe this Sunday me and you can maybe....I dunno, go on a date?"
You see, the reason why he asked you on a Sunday and not on a Friday or Saturday was because he heard you sing a song to yourself.
"I want a Sunday kind of love, A love to last past Saturday night, And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight, And I want a Sunday kind of love" Your voice soft like a whisper.
"Sunday...time?"
His face lit up, in a way for him, this was you agreeing, "6 am, ma'am." he happily responded. You were confused, why would he want a date on a Sunday at 6 in the goddamn morning?
"I was thinking breakfast by the lakes...maybe you'd like that," he answered as if he was listening to your thoughts, he paused and looked at you, "Or whatever time, all I want is to spend time with you."
A light red hue on your cheeks, there it was. The old you, feeling excited because for the first time in years, you were validated as more than just a 'one time thing', seen by him for you. You nod, "very well-"
"I'll pick you up?"
"I don't see why not."
You put her helmet on, going for the typical night ride. Funny enough, he was the guy who would race you any chance he got. You of course never knew, but he did. Wanted to spend time with you in whatever way he could, so, he learned from Alejandro how to ride one.
During the date, he was so nervous, he completely forgot his Spanish and English. Giggled as he tried to compose himself for you, you took his hand, "Just one work at a time, I promise to listen." the way you said it and carried it, was a different side of you, the old you.
"Eres hermosa, la mas bella." he cups your face, looks you in the eyes and smiles. You'd learn Spanish for him after months of dating, but in this moment, when you barely spoke the language, you understood the meaning. Skin melted on his hands, turning into mush, he leaned in, kissed your forehead and then looked you in the eyes.
"Thank you, for giving me this chance."
Soon after that, you went on more dates, Sunday dates. Always by the lake, eating, laughing and at times, he'd chase you into the water. Both laughing, being the sweetest of creatures.
6 years after that first date, you and him celebrated your engagement, Alejandro being asked to be the best man. While everyone had seen your cold hearted side, he saw you, the woman he'd be waiting for at the end of the isle. His favourite melody, the girl who made him soup, stayed up all night understanding the video game he was enraged by, taking classes to speak to your in-laws in their language. Wearing that sundress and although you weren't religious, attended church with his mum, grandma and him.
4 months after he had proposed to you, thats when you met 141 and Shadow Company. Graves introduced himself, once he spotted you in the room, he stopped, "-any...ways, it's a pleasure to meet y'all." He nodded to himself and walked to where you were. Alejandro ran through the plan.
"You look beautiful, sweet thing-"
You raised a finger to him, "I don't let dogs speak to me." Rudy heard it, chuckled to himself. He was happy, a part of him was always protective of you, wanted to be selfish and have you to him. So knowing you were still like this with other men made him glad. Now that he was on the good side of your actions, he didn't know if you still spoke like that to other men.
Graves was....mad...? He noticed how you changed, how you looked healthier, happier and that stupid fucking diamond ring. He did love how much your body had changed, how your curves become more prominent, your hair longer, the same body he was once all over was...sexier, appealed to his needs for sure.
And then after the meeting, he saw you hand in hand with Rudy. Your cold gaze now soft, you blushing and admiring your boyfriend. Rudy kisses your cheek which caused you to look away blushing. Although you were dating him, it was as if you were a school girl, crushing on a celebrity, gushing over him.
Rudy was always the one, that was clearly known. Graves will now forever hold his peace, as the girl that treated him with love and respect was now with another. You'd be the bride and he would never be the groom who gets to call you his.
His lost was and is clear to be Rudy's gain.
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
Tags: @anonymuslydumb
A/N: checking my inbox and I just realised I have request from back in may....sorry...I'll get to those, I promise
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cmncisspnandmore · 5 months
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One Night Stand; Part 5
Pairings: Simon x Reader
Warnings: Hospitals
A/n: Heres another sub par part, im sorry... I feel like im losing motivation to write this story, but im gonna keep going in hopes that it kinda just hits me like a freight train. Might take a break from this and do a few oneshots.
Word Count: 3309
New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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Your lungs ache.
A dull creeping ache that wouldn't go away. Air was forced into your lungs, and you sputter and cough. One hand reaching up to try and bat away the intrusion, to make the air that forces your lungs to expand painfully go away. 
“Easy, Love. You need to leave that on,” A gruff voice next to you soothes. The words float over you like warm water. A blam to soothe the raw nerve endings exposed over your entire body. Slowly the world starts to come into focus, the steady hiss of an oxygen machine. The quiet beeping of a heart rate monitor, and a second faster paced one that echos it. The harsh smell of disinfectant, and the scratchy sheets on your raw skin. 
“Simon…” You mumble, your voice so hoarse you barely recognize it. Talking hurts. Breathing hurts. At this point you weren't sure there was a single thing you could do that didn't hurt. 
“I’m here Love,” Simon’s voice is soft, muffled. His large warm hand taking one of yours, a small whimper passing your lips as the heat from his hand causes the raw skin of your hand to burn. Simon quickly lets go, opting to instead brush a strand of your hair back from your face. “Sorry… I didn't mean to hurt you..” he whispers.
“S’okay…” you mumble, finally finding the strength to open your eyes. His dark brown eyes meet yours, a torrent of emotion swirling behind them. His browns pulled tight behind the black and white skull mask that covers his mouth and nose. You can’t help the small smirk that plays on your lips as you see it. Finally it made sense for him to be wearing one, you just wished you weren’t the reason he was wearing it in the correct setting. 
“What's so funny?” Simon grunts, his brows furrowed even more.
“The mask…” you cough and rasp, “finally wearing it in the correct setting.” 
Simon makes a small sound, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. Your eyes flickering around the bright white room. It was set up like any other hospital room, although this one seemed nicer. There was no curtain separating the room in half so another person could be in the room. It was just you and Simon, the TV on, the soundless news flashing across the screen. 
“What happened?” You rasp, sucking in a pained breath as the oxygen machine forces more air into your lungs. 
“Your apartment building caught on fire.. I found you on the stairs..” he leans forward in his chair, resting  his forearms on his thighs. Your eyes trail down to his arms and you notice the soot and ash that still clings to the fabric of his shirt. The small holes that burnt through the thin fabric, revealing the smallest parts of his tattoo. 
“How did you find me..” you mumble, your eyes burning like someone scraped them with sandpaper. 
“I was already on my way when I saw the smoke, one of your neighbors said she hadn’t seen you. The fire truck was still a few minutes out… I’ve run into worse things than burning buildings.” 
“That’s stupid of you….” 
“It’s part of my job, love,” he laughs slightly, “although you should sue your landlord. Bloody bastard didn’t even have a working fire system.” 
Silence settles over the room, the machines offering white noise. You allow your eyes to close, the burning becoming too much to ignore. As you lay there, listening to the sounds of the machines and Simon’s breathing, the soft whooshing sound catches your attention. 
You force your sore eyes open once more and turn to look at Simon, his head resting on his palm. His elbow propped up on his knee. “Is… is that the baby’s heartbeat?” You ask softly, Simon’s brown eyes meeting yours over the fabric of his mask.
“Yeah.. they wanted to monitor them… make sure the smoke inhalation didn't hurt them at all,” he whispers, behind the mask you can tell he's smiling. The way his eyes crinkle around the edges, and the way the mask moves ever so slightly.
“I still can’t get over the fact that there's an actual baby…” you mumble, dry eyes sliding closed again. 
“Me either, Love, me either…” Simon murmurs, allowing the steady whooshing sound to fill the room again. As you laid on the bed, you started to take inventory of your injuries. Nothing felt too burnt, your skin aches like a bad sunburn, and a spot on your shoulder stung. Your lungs burned with each breath but it wasn't unmanageable. Your throat felt raw and dry, and your eyes felt like you had walked into a sandstorm with them wide open. 
A soft knock on the door draws your attention back to the room. Blinking slowly the room comes back into focus, a woman stands at the door. A white coat adoring her, as she pokes her head in. Her kind blue eyes reminded you of Soap’s, as she steps into the room. Her heels clicking on the tile. 
“Hi, I'm Dr. Rykes. How are you feeling?” She asks softly, coming to stand at the foot of the bed, grabbing the metal clipboard that hangs there. She looks it over for a few minutes, flipping the pages back and forth, her brows pulled together.
“I’m okay…” you mumble, as Simon shifts in his seat. His hand comes to rest on your hand again, this time you're prepared for the slight sting of his body heat on your hand so you don't flinch. You just subtly turn your hand over so his hand rests against the less sensitive skin of your palm. 
“You’re probably going to feel like you have a sunburn for a few days, the intense heat from the fire can make your skin sensitive. You’ll also have some discomfort breathing and swallowing. But you made it out relatively okay, you did sustain a second degree burn on your shoulder, which will need to be redressed a few times a day,” she smiles, and looks up at you.
“When can she go home?” Simon’s voice startles her, and she looks over.
“In a few hours. I just want to monitor the baby and her oxygen stats,” she sets the clipboard back on the edge of the rail. “Do you have someplace to go?” She looks at me, her blue eyes filling with sympathy.
“Oh-” 
“She’ll be staying with me,” Simon cuts you off.
You look over at him, your brows pulled together, “Simon.. I can’t ju-” 
“Shh, you’ll stay with me until we can find you a new apartment,” His tone cuts off any argument that starts to form. After a few more questions and the doctor telling you that you need to take it easy and if you have any change in your breathing you are to come back immediately, she leaves. 
“Simon.. I can't just crash at your apartment.. I can get a hotel,” you turn towards him, his hand still on yours. 
“You can, and you will,” Simon's fingers tighten around yours. The warmth from his palm sends tingles over your skin. You wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms to make all the anxiety that was bubbling under the surface of your skin disappear. 
“Bu-” 
“No,” Simon deadpans, “You will be staying with me, I’m not going to let you live in a hotel and then take the first available flat you find. You’ll stay with me until we can find you a nice flat, with plenty of room for you and the baby.” 
You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, and chew on it. You didn't want to have to rely on Simon, but you also didn't have much of a choice. You lost everything, not that there was anything of importance in the apartment. But your laptop was gone which was your main source of income. Your eyes flicker over Simon’s face, he leans back in the chair. His arms crossed across his chest as he looked at you. His brown eyes are full of determination. 
“Okay.. fine.” 
A smile creeps across his lips under his mask, his eyes shining slightly, “good girl.”
Warmth spreads through your chest at his praise, your cheeks heating as he watches you. For the next few hours you doze off, waking up every once in a while to hear Simon on the phone with someone. Eventually the doctor comes in with your discharge papers and gives you the okay to go to Simons, with instructions to follow up with your primary care in a few days. 
~~~~
Simon pushes open the door to his place, the warm yellow lights a stark contrast from the bright LED lighting in the hospital. Simon's hands rest on your waist, his fingers pressing softly into the flesh of your hips as he guides you towards his couch. You pause as you take in the state of the living room, the entire floor is covered in shopping bags from various stores. Even a few boxes filled with unbuilt furniture, the faint sound of shuffling comes from the bedroom. 
“W-what is all this?” You look over your shoulder at Simon who removes his mask, tossing it onto the counter behind him.
“I had Soap and Gaz pick up a few things for you,” Simon grunts, pulling you over to the couch and making you sit.
“You didn't have to do that…” You mumble as he bends, picking up a few of the bags and taking the clothes from them.
“You need clothes..” Simon states, as he holds the items of clothing in his hands. They look small in his large hands, as he folds them neatly placing them in piles on the arm of the couch next to you. “If you don't like something we can return it and get you something you like.”
“Oi! Ouch!” A thick Scottish accent calls from the bedroom, a moment later Soap emerges from the bedroom rubbing the side of his head. His bright blue eyes land on you and a smile breaks out on his face. “Lass!” He calls as he comes over and wraps his arms around you.
“Hi, Soap,” you mumble into the fabric of his shirt.
“I was worried about you, I just put up some shelves in LT’s closet for ya,” he smiles as he pulls back slightly, his hands resting on your upper arms. He looks you over for a few moments, shaking his head as he takes a step back. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” you smile, “we both are.” You place your hand over your lower stomach, and Soap smiles wide.
“Well, I'll leave you two to get settled,” he turns towards Simon, “I’ll come by tomorrow to help you put together the rest of the stuff, but I think both of you need some rest after the night you had.” 
“Thank you, Johnny,” Simon nods as Soap gathers his things and heads for the door. 
As the door closes behind Soap, you look over at Simon. “You really didn't have to do all this..” You trail off, looking at all the bags again. Tears prick in your eyes as you take in the sheer quantity of stuff Simon had bought for you. There were at least a dozen bags of clothes and shoes, a few filled with bathroom products that you never even thought of using. Soaps, Shampoos, and bath oils of different scents. The last time someone did something like this for you was when your mother bought you stuff for your house when you bought it. 
Your mom.
The memory knocks the air out of your lungs. She would’ve been so excited to be a grandmother. She was always telling you how she couldn't wait to spoil her grandkids. How she wanted to make so many new traditions with them. Shower them in love like she did you and your siblings. But now she would never know what it was like to hold her first grandchild. She would never experience the joy of hearing their heartbeat. She wouldn't be able to be there for their birth, to hold your hand and coach you through it. 
She was gone, buried 6 feet under the ground. Alongside your brother and sister, the only family you ever had. Tears spill down your cheeks, leaving streams of tears that burn like fire on your sensitive skin. Your throat feels tight with emotion as you pull your hands up to your face to try and hold back the emotions bubbling over. 
You lost your family, your first house, and now your apartment in the span of a year. You had to start over again. 
The couch next to you dips, as Simon settles on it. His large arm wraps around you as he pulls you into his chest. His hand is careful of the burn on your shoulder, as he puts his other hand on the back of your hair, pressing your face gently into his chest. Your shoulders shake as the silent tears turn into heartbreaking sobs. Your fists clutching the fabric of his shirt as he holds you gently. 
“You’re okay…” He murmurs into your hair, his hands gently ghosting across your back. 
Simon holds you in his arms as you shake, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he takes in your distressed state. He expected you to be upset, you had just lost your apartment, but the way you’re breaking down in his arms makes his gut twist. This was something more than losing an apartment, more than losing a few items in a fire. 
The cries that echo around the apartment in the early morning light were filled with something deeper. They were full of pain, the type of pain you feel when your entire life is ripped away. The kind of pain he felt when he found his family murdered after being buried alive and tricked by a brainwashed Sparks. Simons hands ghost along your sensitive skin as he tries to comfort you. His lips pressed against your hair that still smells of smoke, as he murmurs soft words to you.
You look so small in his arms, your entire body shaking with emotion you are desperately trying to contain. If he really wanted to, Simon is sure he could break you in half with one squeeze. Your small frame was no match for his strength, one strong wind seemed like it could blow you over. He knew that the cries that bubbled up from your chest weren’t meant for his ears. In the short time he's known you, he's noticed how you guarded yourself despite the apparent anxiety that seems to plague you. It took a lot of courage to seek him out after finding out you were pregnant, and he admired the strength it took. But beneath the walls you put up to protect yourself there was clearly someone who had witnessed something terrible and was no longer comfortable in the world they lived in. 
As your sobs quiet into small hiccups, Simon looks at you, your eyes puffy from crying. Your cheeks flushed, lips parted as you pulled air into your aching lungs. You were still as breathtaking as you were in the alley behind the bar, even with your tear stained cheeks. Your eyes meet Simons as he looks down at you, as you look at each other Simon swears he can see the walls going back up. In a matter of moments the lost, hurt look in your eyes is replaced with the carefully constructed facade you built to fool the people around you that you were okay. 
But Simon saw through it. He could see through the fake happiness you put on for everyone else, he could see through the mirage of ‘i’m fine and i’m okay’. He could see that behind those walls you put up to protect yourself you were broken and scared.
But it didn't matter to Simon, because in the moments were breaking down in his arms, when your face was streaked with tears, and you were gasping for air. You were the most beautiful, because in those moments, you were honest. That's when he found you the most beautiful, because despite all the pain, you were still here. You were still going, and that kind of strength that no one could take away from you. 
“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, gently wiping your cheeks with your hands despite the burning sensation.
“Don't apologize,” Simon’s arms are wrapped around you, blanketing you in warmth.
“I don't usually.. Just break down like that,” you mumble, “I was just.. Its been a long time since someone has done something like this for me.” 
“You don't have to explain it to me.”
You shift slightly so you’re sitting a little further from him, his thigh pressed against yours. His body heat seeping through the fabric of his jeans into yours, as you clear your throat. Simon leans forward his elbows resting on his thighs as he rubs a hand across his face. In the dim lighting of his flat you notice just how tired he looks. The bags under his eyes are darker, and his eyes lack the shine that they normally have. 
“Why.. why don't we go through this stuff after a few hours of sleep, yeah?”
Simon looks over at you, and nods. “That sounds like a good idea, we both need some sleep,” he stands, holding his hand out to you.
“Are you okay with sharing the bed for tonight?” he asks, “I just don't have the energy to convert the couch to a bed right now.”
A blush creeps up your cheeks,”oh, yeah of course.” 
Simon smiles, and leads you into his bedroom. It looks exactly as it did when the night you fell into bed with him. The bed is neatly made, the walls still bare of personalization, but there's a small stack of books on the nightstand. The laundry basket in the corner has a few new blankets piled on top of it to be washed. Simon walks to his closet and pulls out a shirt and pair of sweatpants, holding them out to you. 
“Here, you can wear these tonight,”
You take the items and smile, the scent of simons cologne clings to them as you head towards the bathroom. After you close the door you press them to your nose, inhaling his comforting scent for a moment before changing. As you peel off your shirt you take in the thick white bandage that covers your shoulder blade. The skin around it is slightly pink, the tape holding the bandage in place pulling your skin taught. You carefully slide the oversized shirt over your upper body and tuck the front of it into the waistband of the rolled up sweatpants. 
When you emerge from the bathroom Simon is already laying on the bed, the blankets pulled up to his waist, his chest bare. His tattooed forearm slung over his eyes, as he lays against the pillows. His breathing is soft and slow as he sleeps. Your eyes trail down his chest and stomach, before you force yourself to look away. You climb into the bed, it dips under your body weight and you turn onto your side. Your arm under your pillow, your injured shoulder off the mattress as you reach over and turn off the small bedside lamp. 
As you pull the blanket up over yourself, Simon rolls over in his sleep, his arm coming to wrap around your waist. He tugs you backwards to fit against his chest, his hand resting over your lower stomach. His breath tickles the back of your neck as your own heavy eyes fall closed and sleep pulls you under. 
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Next: Part 6
Taglist: @coffeeandtealol
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izuhan · 1 year
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coming home exhausted ︱stray kids (hyung line + hyune)
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pairing: boyfried!skz x gn!reader ︱ genre: fluff, comfort no hurt ︱warning: grammar mistakes, not proofread, i love chan
a/n: ,, i think this has been done a lot but I was having a bad day and wanted to write so here we are! im still confused if hyune is part of hyung line but my powers last night ended after I wrote his. hope u enjoy!
⸝⸝bang chan♡ᵎ
— one another’s arrival at home will always be the highlight of both of your days, and if you arrive at the same time as him, it is a total bonus for each other.
— within his or your arrival, he will never let you hug him first, he’s ought to do them first and that is the rule. which means whether he’s working or burning holes in your wall clock, he makes sure he gets to hug you, only allowing you to hug him back after.
— he does them a lot to the point he could identify who needs one and who doesn't. this time, it was you who he heard walking past his room. you have no energy to knock and be loud, all you wanted and needed is chan and nothing else, no one else. 
— you knock a couple of times and Chan, hurriedly and almost tripped himself—he opened the door to an exhausted lover of his. 
— “Ch—” he did not hesitate to pull you close to him in such an embrace he always does, a light squeeze and his signature giggles melting all your exhaustion away.
— you don't need to ask for a hug; he always delivers them as much as he wants, and you, yourself, can't hate him for that.
— as you melt and cave into his hug, he would take that as a chance to ask about how your day went, let you talk, and vent all those things which made you wear such a long face.
— he would move you with him in a gentle rhythm, humming and replying softly to your complaints, and say sweet promises he could fulfill within an hour of your arrival.
— and if you do cry while hugging him, you two would be in his bed immediately. sat down on the edge of the bed before Chan would wipe your tears away or kiss them, assuring you he would be by your side no matter what and hug you warmly once you asked for another.
— once settled in his bed, he would ask you to stay put and let him take care of you. “I need to change clothes, Chan,” he would smile, rummaging through his closet or the baggage he has that he hasn’t taken care of just yet, maybe for this moment, or simply another excuse to let you wear his clothes. 
— you would glare at him and his gentle, proud grin that he has. it’s almost a shit-eating grin but he’s beautiful no matter what and you will always wear his clothes if that means seeing that grin again.
— he helped you sit up carefully, holding your waist as he guides you, “no, please, let me.” he gives you the smile again. you’ve already seen each other a lot, but there is still embarrassment whenever there is a chance to do so, not when his eyes are focused on you. 
— however, you appreciate it in a way you can relax and lean your weight on him after it, dressed in his clothes and having him lull you to sleep. “Chan, thank you, I love you.” and his voice, confessing his undying love and affection until all you have in your mind is him.
⸝⸝lee know♡ᵎ
— coming home to one another has always been quite a big deal for both of you; screaming is a norm to let the other know of their arrival, or the cats would do the job. 
— however, your voice would still be heard by him, he loves you enough to train himself on focusing only to hear your voice at this point.
— so, he wondered why his cats were screaming at someone who did not utter any words of arrival. lee know, worriedly, rushed to the living room to see you—exhausted, like a withered flower. still beautiful but no color in your soul.
— you look at him with exhaustion, relief, and delight, and finally, you're home. but with how your day went, one thing you need you can't even say it.
— “... hello?” lee know cocks an eyebrow but doesn't speak, he stares with no words to say, that's where you know he’s waiting for you. “... I'm sorry... can I ge—can I hug you?”
— lee know doesn't hesitate, “you're the one who needs it,” it's permission, rather, a clarification that he can hug you, and you can hug him later after you've received one from him.
— he's that fond of you to be stubborn in his own conduct, to make another excuse to hug you and turn the tables, tease you instead of you teasing him that you're growing on him. he will also let your lack of proper greetings slip for once this time around.
— his embrace would make you tear up a bit, though you would not let it all out. you don't want to be a burden to him although he has greatly expressed interest in you being a burden to him. you're his responsibility he says, but to put it that way sometimes concerns you and makes you ponder over it.
— “cry, if today was that bad,” he could feel your gulps and silent sniffles stop you from crying. he breathes out a smile when you do, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head as he brings you to the sofa with the cats. 
— he points at them to scatter around you, which they did, surprisingly.
— lee know would listen to you being a stuttering mess, drawing circles on your back or caressing your hair to soothe you down before he would close the distance to stare at your swollen eyes directly. 
— “.. what?” he wouldn't say a word and cupped your cheeks, examining your face before placing his lips against yours suddenly.
— he knows his lips would do the work perfectly, and he loves to deter your attention from all the horrible things that have happened--to him only. at least for a moment before he does the leftover work on keeping your mind off things you shouldn't waste your tears off.
— and after all, that was done, a smile from both of you would top it off, and lee now would want you to take a bath as he prepares you something. though before parting, you still demand a kiss and a hug which he gladly obeys.
⸝⸝changbin♡ᵎ
— before you leave the place you're in and whenever you're close to home, he always demands you let him know beforehand. not because he was preparing something, kind of, but all there is was a feeling of relief you'll be coming home soon before he burns the clock with how hard he stared at it
— and so, when no text was sent to him and the door to his room was opened suddenly, his whole face cannot be painted
— either you're a burglar or one of his family members. though once he recognized it was you, a hug would be his only resort before asking questions about your actions, why you never texted him beforehand so he could greet you by the door somehow.
— you would stay silent over his words, holding him tightly with the fear of letting him go. that's where he senses something might be wrong and let you squeeze him as much as you could. with the build he has, he doesn't think it would hurt and if it would, he will take delight in it. being weak towards you... fuels him.
— he would continuously talk and ask important questions. you want to answer him but exhaustion not letting you form words completely, you would either break down into tears or apologize numerous times, though either of those would happen, changbin would be as patient as possible.
— he knows enough to not talk over you the same you do to him, talking over each other is something you do when teasing each other, and fighting would be the worst-case scenario.
— he would let you talk and cry, or if you can't anymore, he would let it be. let the silence swallow the whole room so that you would calm down and ease your body.
— and while he's at it, he would rest his back on the headboard of his bed and settle you down on his lap. as embarrassing as you might be, it's the only way he could think of holding you while facing you.
— he would give you a smile rather than a worrying pout you do think is adorable, however, his smile and giggles were what erased your exhaustion for a moment before he holds you close.
 — promises to cuddle and smother your with love all night would ensue, his face too close for comfort but you would laugh it off sweetly, let yourself be stupidly in love with changbin and be as vulnerable as you could be, telling him the story of your day and all that caused the bad day because you know you have him by your side and ready to fight whatever it is.
⸝⸝hyunjin♡ᵎ
— coming home exhausted would be no different in your shared place with hyunjin. 
sometimes you fear you both are coming home exhausted for so many days in a week that it's becoming a problem.
— but that also means you get to pamper each other with love and affection, lay low and lose all the tension and exhaustion from work and life at once. 
— it's also another excuse to let him be as romantic as he could be. you can't stomach it sometimes, in a good way, because you will combust in any second the moment you realize hyunjin's action is too romantic for your liking, that he's too perfect and charming. 
— today was no different too. silent sweet ambiance thanks to hyunjin's newly composed song showering the place with a new atmosphere as you step inside.
— you would either find him working on it, or doing art in many forms. and always, you would watch his back and smile. snap a few pictures to set as your new wallpaper or lock screen or post it in your gc just to make everyone jealous of your lover, or sometimes, keep it to yourself as a secret treasure.
— this time though, you badly needed him to embrace you to death. but you can't ask him directly, you don't know why.
— until he appears right in front of you, “i see, one of those days huh?” hyunjin is straight out of the shower, a new enticing look in his slightly damped short hair, the t-shirt he's wearing kind of soaked with the water dripped on them, and the towel hanging on his shoulder. god. how did you get so lucky?
— “hug, please?” hyunjin would chuckle, cooing and wiggling his body before embracing you with a smile on his face. you would groan once he would lift you up, clearly, he's not having a bad day, and he's affecting you with his energy. 
— “this is why I recommend you stay here with me all week, just a week of us and I could promise to have the world in my hands, and hand it to you for your undying love.”
“I k—”
“Nope, please, this week has been horrible for you. let me care for you the same way you ditched your whole family for me.”
— for hyunjin, having you counter him serves as a win, and so he does this time around, capturing your lips onto his before you could utter words that he knows would affect his plan for the both of you.
— and giving up was all you could do, let him take his time to take care of you in his very way.
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sykosugu · 30 days
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on the run | five
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♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go.a geto suguru au
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♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance
♧ aw: character death (not mc), blood, violence, ooc toji,
♡ currently: completed
♤ taglist: closed
♢ wc: 2.3k
♧ carlile speaks: omg we have arrived at the end of Sugu and Ruby's story. Im not sure how some of you will react to this part but I'm excited to find out! thank you all so much for the love over the course of this story. this was my first post in the jjk fandom and I feel like I was welcomed with open arms. I love and appreciate every single one of you in this community I've built. thank you all again for deeming me worthy of your time! see you in the next story! ALSO a big thank you to @celestie0 for helping me with this final chapter. I would not have done it without you!
♡: previous part | you are here
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Toji Fushiguro was your best friend. Or at least you thought he was. Toji was a contact you made when you were eighteen years old, fresh out of highschool and right after your parents had kicked you out. Claiming they don’t want to enable your lifestyle. Doing drugs with your friends, until the drugs no longer interested you. Then came the shoplifting. That’s where you shined. You could steal anything. Chanel. Prada. Louis V. Any of it. What can you say, you wanted the best of the best. 
You’d been staying with some of your “friends” you’d made along the way. Friends who more so wanted you to live the life they were living; sitting at home getting high all day, but you wanted the action. You wanted to be in the trenches. Wanted the thrill of the job, not the fabricated thrill from the drugs. You wanted the real high.
Toji was someone you ran into at the right time, he needed someone to train to help with small bank heists and you needed somewhere new to stay.
Toji was there for you. He housed you, kept you fed. Kept you happy, in so many more ways than one. He gave you an immense amount of knowledge. How to keep your cool. How to handle a weapon. How to make yourself into a weapon. 
“You are your biggest asset, use it.” rings in your ears during every job. 
All of the hand to hand combat you’d learned was taught to you by him. He was the first person you’d ever unintentionally kicked their ass.
“Again,” he pants, wiping the blood from his nose on the back of his hand, a sick smile on his face. He flexes his hands before balling them back into fists, taking his standing position; arms up in front of his face.
“Toji,” you warn. “I think we got th–,” you start to object, but Toji isn't having any of that.
“Again.”
And so you do. You continuously knock this grown man to the floor. His eyes grow with adoration after every punch; every kick. He was so proud. Nobody was ever able to land a blow, much less knock him off his feet. But you were so quick and nimble, he was hardly able to keep track of you. 
You’d originally only ever used masks and weapons to rob your banks, but when you met Toji your entire perception of the way you could do everything changed. He was the one who taught you to hide most of your face. Only leave behind minor details they can use. Always follow them into the room, never be the first. And always leave last. 
Toji was beyond proud of you. That’s why when you’d met Sukuna and immediately fell for his charm, his attitude changed. He was less than thrilled. It wasn’t a shock to him that he’d fallen for you, but it wasn't something he’d planned on either. He thought you’d had the chemistry, but his timing was all off. You’d met Sukuna. He didn’t anticipate someone else scooping you up the way he wanted to. Toji wanted everything with you, he was training you to be able to reign with him, not somebody else. Toji needed a way to be close to you, so he became Sukuna’s right hand. His business partner. Working his ass off to get the position he’s in now. Practically kissing Sukuna’s ass in order to be near you. Taking job after stupid job to prove himself worthy.
If only Toji had been honest with you from the start.
Sukuna was greedy. He had everything but needed more. Craved it even. Then he met you and needed to have you too.
But you showed him up. Toji had trained you beyond what anyone had ever seen before. You made Sukuna feel small; and that just wasn’t going to fly. Sukuna wanted you to keep his bed warm more than anything since he found out you were more skilled than him. Sukuna tried his best to kill your spirit; slowly of course. Taking you off of jobs, telling you that your skillset wasn't as good as others and you were not needed anymore. He tried distracting you with money and shopping sprees that worked for a while, but you eventually run out of things to buy when you have the access to buy anything you want. He even made sure to make you question your own physical appearance by slyly flirting with other members of his team in front of you; then gaslighting you into thinking you were seeing things. 
Toji held you when you cried to him. He’d smooth his hands up and down your back as you sobbed into his chest. How he’d wish you would see how terribly you were being treated. But if sukuna found out he was speaking ill of him, he'd be dealt with. So he held out for as long as he could, but you were the first one to break. You wanted to leave and live a life of your own. Toji was so happy for you, but wanted that life with you. He’d never told you any of these things, in fear of rejection from you and in fear of retaliation from his now boss.
Toji wishes you’d never introduced him to Sukuna. Toji wishes you’d be his. Toji’s world fell apart when he found out you were making beds with a cop. The actual enemy. He thought you’d be smarter than that. 
When Sukuna informed Toji of his plan to execute you for treason, he was terrified. But he couldn't say anything. He couldn't risk losing everything he’d built, especially now knowing you’d never felt the same way about him. He assumes so anyways, claiming it was the safe assumption.
Toji knew something had gone amiss the day Sukuna went to finish the job and he hadn’t returned. Toji was prepared to take over no questions asked. He began making changes in command, having conversations with his chain when there was word of disturbances in the hall.
Once the police bore into the casino penthouse, aiming straight for Toji, he knew exactly who he was dealing with when he looked into Suguru’s eyes as he stared him down behind the barrel of his gun. 
“Toji Fushiguro, you are under arrest for the murder of Ryomen Sukuna. You have the right to remain silent…” Satoru speaks from his spot in the middle of the room, gun raised at the man seated before him.
“So, you’re the one, huh?” Toji speaks over Satoru, nodding his head at Suguru.
“What?” Suguru lowers his gun momentarily.
“You’re the one she fell for,” Toji laughs from his chair. He swirls the whiskey around in his glass before he stands, raising his hands into the air. “I didn't do this, but I’ll go down so she doesn't have to.”
Satoru walks behind him to place the cuffs around his wrists.
“You loved her too.” Suguru states. “Didn’t you?”
Toji just smiles as Satoru walks him out in his cuffs. He did. He loved you more than anything else on this planet. But he’d rather you live the life you wanted than stand in your way. It’s why he helped you leave Sukuna before. He knew you didn’t see him in that same light and he was okay with that. He was just happy to see you happy.
Suguru felt bad at that moment, but he knew he’d keep that information to himself. 
The copious amounts of forged documents, planted evidence, fake witness statements.. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Toji wasn't the one who killed Sukuna. Everything made it seem like Toji was tired of being second in command and wanted it all. 
Toji would take whatever punishment was coming his way; he knew this was your doing. He knew you’d be broken once you found out he hadn’t attempted to stop Sukuna. Toji was supposed to be your safe haven, and he let you down. He knew that. So he was prepared to take whatever you thought was a suitable punishment for him. He’d kneel on the ground you walked on if it meant making you smile. Especially since the guilt ate him up inside for never standing up for you earlier. He swears he’d do anything to make you happy, but he cowers away when you actually need him. Toji knew he was a coward. He knew he could have done something earlier but he didn’t. 
Toji was convicted and placed on death row for the murder of Sukuna. The revenge plan you had set in motion had come to a head, you just had to do this one last job and then the life you planned with Suguru would be in the palm of your hand.
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Toji’s son was your last target; you tracked him for weeks while you located the item in question: Toji’s unsealed will.
The will contains everything you would need. The numbers to multiple offshore accounts with millions of dollars. The deeds to houses spread throughout the world. Everything his kids would need beyond his lifeline.
Seventy seconds. In and out.
Suguru is outside waiting for you. Something you’re not used to. But the sense of security feels nice for once. Every job before this one you’d done alone. Having the man you’re willing to risk everything for waiting for you while you perform the most important job of your life has every nerve alight with anticipation, and also relief; Knowing he’d be there if something went wrong. Your heart could burst out of your chest in appreciation for him.
Satoru is down the street, handling the signal blocker for the alarm at the bank. Intercepting the signal is the easy part, but keeping it down for seventy seconds is the hard part. But Satoru isn't worried. 
The bank manager approaches you with keys in hand, “Safety deposit room, right?” the man timidly asks. His question throws you off momentarily. Your smug smile falls as he speaks.
“How’d you know that?” you ask, reaching for your gun.
“Stop, Ruby. We’re playing by my rules from now on.” Satoru’s voice startles you from behind. 
“Satoru, you’re making a huge mistake right now,” you warn, your hands remaining where he can see them.
“The only ones making mistakes are you and Geto.” 
“He’ll be in here once he realizes I’m taking too long. You know that as much as I do.”
“Oh, I'm counting on it,” he sneers, “Now, turn around and face me.” 
You hear the sound of his gun click, making you chuckle.
“I don’t need his help anyways,” you duck down and sweep your feet under his legs, catching him off guard and making him tumble backwards onto the floor. A big cracking sound fills the air as his head makes contact with the hard floor. “I can handle myself, you should have known that, Satoru.” 
The few onlookers in the bank unsure of what to do, the silent alarm still won’t trigger.
Satoru looks up at you from his spot on the floor, a ringing in his ears from how hard his head collided with the marble. “You won’t get away with this,” he pants out in pain, clutching the back of his skull. His gun. He needed his gun. Where? Where did it end up? His head just hurts and that’s all he can focus on. His GUN, whERE IS IT? Satoru, where is y–
“I already did,” and with that you leave him laying there, your gaze serving as a warning as you pull the bank manager in the direction of the safety deposit room. He opens exactly what you want; no questions asked.
Unfortunately, you decided no loose ends this time. The bank manager met his fate inside the safety deposit room. He begged, but only for a minute. This wasn’t like you. Look what love did to you. Love and betrayal. Everyone you had ever loved betrayed you. But not Suguru. 
Never Suguru.
Sounds of fighting pull your train of thought from the lifeless man in front of you. Making a swift exit with the paperwork tucked into your jacket, you head for the source of the sound. 
“What are you doing, Satoru? This isn’t what we agreed on,” Suguru groans from their wrestling spot on the floor. Arms are being pinned, yanked free and then pinned again. The men fight to get the upper hand.
“I told you that I took an oath to stand up to people like you and her. This isn't a game, Geto. Don't you see that?” 
Suguru stops for a moment, looking at his friend while he processes the words leaving his mouth.
“Sugu,” you call from your position, gun raised and pointed directly at the white haired man before you.
“Now, Ru!” he calls to you, turning Satoru’s upper body so his back faces you. There’s silence. So much silence that follows the shot. Suguru looks at his friend beneath him with tears in his eyes. The hurt and betrayal laced behind every feature. The life leaves Satoru’s eyes as the men lock their gazes. “I told you, you won’t take her from me.” 
He stands from his spot, walking over to you.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking you over.
“Fine. You?” you rush out. He nods quickly. “We need to go, now,” you grab hold of one of his hands, pulling him towards the exit. 
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“You know we’re about to be on the run for the rest of our lives together?”
“Are you complaining?” he asks from the driver's side, sunglasses pushed atop his head as he weaves his way through the mountainous roads.
“Of course not. Never when it's with you.”
“I love you, Ru.”
“I love you more, Sugu.”
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♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses @nanasukii28 @mylifetold @bakuhoethotski @4y3sh4 @whereflowerswenttodie @drakenswifeyy
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l0vem41l · 3 months
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star stickers and best efforts.
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「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, hurt/comfort but 100% not at all, reader is mildly mean when nervous LIKE A BAD DOG /ref and most definitely written self-indulgently by accident, sun is mildly condescending, they r each others best supporters, mentions of a customer being rude but rly nothing crazy, sun uh... he's an interesting fella, BIGGG dialogue chunks im sorry im sorry 」
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「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」
↳ ft. the daycare attendant/sun/sundrop
author's note: my wip title was literally just "the one where you're yelled at" :p but... hiiii!!! obligatory return to fnaf real quick becuz,,, no, i still havent gotten into the ruin dlc but YES i do love sun's personality in help wanted 2..... if this is ooc u can erm. shove me into wet concrete. (。﹏。) aaannywayz!! missed this!!! missed this so much!!!! ( ╯□╰ ) sorry for not valentine's day posting,,, scandalous ik since im lit rally Called Valentine. but oh well. enjoy! or dont. if you dont im sorry please request fnaf stuff so i can Fix That /srs
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if you weren't relying on this job to put food on your table and a roof on your head, you’d burn the freddy fazbear’s mega pizzaplex to the ground for a piece of pocket lint and a pat on the head.
maybe it’s a bit dramatic to say that— you're paid well, you like your mostly robot coworkers, and most of the time (emphasis on most and not always) the work is manageable enough.
the customers are another story.
sun notices the minute you walk in the daycare. you look like you're a minor inconvenience away from murder— which naturally, makes him feel inclined to prod a little.
“well, someone’s awfully sulky today!”
while you’d typically crack a smile at the upbeat jester animatronic, his enthusiasm in the face of your misery is grating. there’s no energy left in your body to banter with him— you were using most of it to drag your feet over to the shoe caddy, toolbox in hand to fix up its shelf, now hanging askew due to a busted bracket.
“can it, sunny, i don't wanna hear it.” you mutter, more venomous than you intend it to be. he doesn’t even blink at your grumpiness. instead, he happily holds up the shelf while you inspect it and grab a new bracket to secure it.
at least he’s trying to make himself useful. you think to yourself.
his faceplate tilts slightly, staring at you with that ever present grin. his staring isn’t really helping, but you don’t fault him for it. you’ve gotten used to his antics by now. “woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” sun questions.
you shake your head.
“got yelled at by a customer— now, if you could please just drop the topic—” you sigh exasperatedly, not even bothering to finish the sentence as you sit down cross legged in front of the shoe caddy, slumping slightly in defeat.
much too persistent for his own good, sun decides that inquiring even further about the incident that seems to have you beat down is a good idea. “what’d you do?”
you consider feigning offense as he insinuates it’s somehow your fault. but you don’t. you just shrug it off.
“my job.” 
“ah, they do hate it when you do that.” he tuts.
“it wasn’t even that big of a deal,” you mutter, getting the bracket in place and marking it, “this one kid just so happened to walk up to the arcade machine i was putting an out of order sign on. i felt bad, so like, obviously, i hand the kid a few tokens, apologize politely, explain— and you’d think it’s all good right?”
you pause mid-ramble as you fix up the shelf. in all your misery, you forgot that you don’t even know exactly what caused the shelf to collapse like this. you consider asking.
sun leans in just a bit too close, interrupting your train of thought as you stare at the shelf. when you glance at him, he gives you a little nod.
go on, he seems to say wordlessly. he’s waiting silently for you to continue your story. it’s never not unnerving when he’s quiet.
“...anyways, uh... the kid’s dad came by and got mad or something. didn’t understand why i couldn’t just let him play one game since it looked perfectly functional— keep in mind, this is the arcade machine that literally kept eating up tokens only to not function, and shocked kids when it did— so i kept trying to explain why i couldn’t exactly do that. but for some reason, it was such a big fucking deal—”
“language.” he chides.
“...fricking deal. of course, i had to be berated for it. i offered to grab them more faz-tokens as compensation and i thought the problem was solved... and then i checked and saw he still left a bad review. definitely gonna hear about that from management.” sun hands you a tool as you continue to speak.
“but now i’m upset, i’m definitely in trouble, and my face hurts from the whole customer service smile i was holding that entire conversation. like seriously, i don’t know how i’m expected to do that 24/7.” you stop at your last remark and stare at sun and his unchanging expression. “...my bad.”
the awkward silence only lasts for a moment, thankfully. you’ve spoken your piece— sun decides to speak his.
“you did your best.” he says simply, as you finally fix the shelf into place. he pats you on the head and doesn't even hide his amusement when you sulk.
“i know that tone, sunny, you're making fun of me—”
“poor thing.” he continues, grinning brightly as he makes a show of patronizing you. sun’s hand continues to pat the top of your head gently, like he would when consoling a child. or when greeting a dog. has he,,, ever seen a dog before? probably not.
you groan and manage to shove his arm away.
“i do mean it though,” he continues, his tone still lighthearted— but notably more earnest as he notes your expression. sun helps you put your tools away neatly back into the toolbox, even though it really is just a one-man job.
“you tried your best,” sun closes the toolbox with a flourish and a click, “...and for that—!”
with a dramatic flick of his wrist, bells jingling as he does, sun produces a gold star sticker from… somewhere. he holds it up for you to see.
and then gently presses it onto the tip of your nose.
“to my favoritest human employee here! and my bestest of friends!” it’s hard to bite back a smile at those words. even if his little show of empathy and affection is much too theatrical for your current mood.
“whatever.” you shrug a little, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from twitching into a little grin. standing up and grabbing the toolbox, you give him an awkward thumbs up.
“thanks. and uh… sorry. for being mean. i guess.”
sun shakes his head dismissively, bouncy and bright as ever. “oh, don't mention it!”
something about his seeming lack of offense towards your prickliness makes you feel even more guilty. still, he gives you a wave as you head out, “bye-bye”-ing happily as you walk away, sticker stuck to your nose and smile on your face like an idiot.
you decide you’ll find a way to make it up to him later. you figure he deserves that much for putting up with everything.
meanwhile, sun is taking mental notes on more stuff to break of whenever you’ve been away for too long. just in case, of course. maybe you’d have more interesting customer encounters to rant about. and hey, you could use the company, couldn’t you?
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— reblogs always appreciated!
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cheriladycl01 · 25 days
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My Job is Beach ... - Valtteri Bottas x ItalianOlympicBeachVolleyball! Reader
Plot: You spend time with your boyfriend after the Australian GP doing what you do best, Beach Barbie and Beach Ken
Credit to husbono for the GIF
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Valtteri had an incredible race, him and Lewis both in a fantastic car as fantastic drivers. And you’d luckily been there to celebrate with him.
You loved going to Australia with him, it was so warm at the time of year the race was and it meant you got to go to the beach.
Which of course was one of your favourite things. Growing up in a small coastal town in Italy, meant you were at the beach pretty much all the time. You went there before school, after school, on the weekends. Even during school, your school was right next to a beach which is where you picked up your sport.
At first it was just for fun, like most hobbies start of as.
But after playing in some matches against others schools across Italy, your teacher and parents realised there was something special there.
You didn’t see it or get it, you just loved the beach do anything you did there was fun to you.
So of course they ended up getting you a coach. Someone who was willing to privately train you and get you into better teams in Italy.
In 2016 you competed in Brazil. Rio De Janeiro was an incredible place and it’s actually where you met Valtteri.
He and a few of the drivers had ended up coming to watch some of the Olympics and you’d bumped into him on the beach with Lewis.
You’d recognised both of them straight away, and struck up a conversation with them.
“Oh! Your Valtteri Bottas! And Your Felipe Massa!” You’d exclaimed at the men and they’d awkwardly nodded thinking you were a fan wanting a picture or autograph.
“What are you guys here for?” You ask, knowing that the race this year wasn’t until November. They were in summer break right now.
“Oh, we are here for the Olympics. We got invited” Felipe admits and you grin.
“Oh, I’m here for them too!” You grin.
“Oh yeah, you here to watch any sport in particular?” Valtteri asked.
“Watch? No im one of the beach volleyballers! Team Italia” You smile.
And the rest was history after that. You and Valtteri got together and he got a promotion to Mercedes after Nico Rosberg left the sport.
It was early the next day, the Monday after the race and you and Valtteri were still shacked up in Australia. You wanted to spend some more time here travelling to your favourite Aussie beaches.
So you took the 1hour flight from Melbourne to Sydney so that you were on Bondi beach. You guys had rented out a place close to the coast for easy access.
You guys were with a few friends, some of Valtteri and some of yours. Somehow your friendship groups just mixed together well. You were both apprehensive at first but realised after a house party that it was fine, the language barrier at first was a little awkward but English being a common ground for most of the group worked.
“Amore mio, please come join us! Then I promise you we will go on a bike ride!” You say cuddling up to him… you’d just finished unpacking and he was laying on the bed cuddling up to you.
“Im no good. And I just embarrass myself Rakas” he sighs pulling you into him and kissing all over your face affectionately making you giggle.
At first Valtteri was very shy when it came to showing you any level of affection and your overly affectionate side thanks to your large Italian family upbringing was very overwhelming to him at first.
But soon he learnt it was your love language and the more confident he got, the clingier he got.
“It’s meant to be for fun! You don’t have to be good at it” you giggle running your finger through his hair as he looks up at you.
“But all your friends are so good!” He exclaims sitting up.
“Mmmm and now you know how I feel when you take me karting!” You laugh knowing you have the bruises to prove just how bad you were at the sport.
“Okay okay fine. But just because I love you!” He says in that gruff lower voice.
You guys play beach volleyball for the majority of the morning until the suns at full peak.
“Barbecue sulla spiaggia?” One of your friends suggest whose English wasn’t great, especially when she was tired after a long morning of playing volleyball, in the sand and under the hot Australian sun.
“She suggested a Rantagrilli?” You say trying your best to translate for Valtteri and his friends who wouldn’t have understood the Italian.
You weren’t allowed to do this on Bondi but closer to where your beach Villa was, you knew you’d be able to cook on the beach there as it was private to the Villa.
They all nod eagerly and before you know it, you guys are using two barbecue for the amount of people you are cooking for. One that’s on the back garden of the beach villa and then one that was already in the sand.
You guys spent lunch munching on burgers and salad, and chicken and hot dog. It was for sure a chest day for all of you, most of you guys being athletes and being on strict diets.
After you’d spent the afternoon cuddling with Valtteri on the beach letting lunch go down, you both went out for a bike ride. He of course had chosen the longest and steepest route to take, meaning you came back drenched in sweat and cursing at Valtteri for making you endure that.
"I want a Dolce Sorpresa!" you groan your head leaning against him and he looks at you.
"A what?" he asks. You'd learnt a little Finnish for him but he still struggled with some of you little idioms.
"Sweet Treat, I'm craving Boba, I saw a shop on the way back!" you grin, kissing him before taking his hand to drag him to the Boba Tea shop!
"Then, can we go to the beach again?" you ask.
"You just love the beach don't you!" he smiles.
"Mmmmmm, my job is literally beach..." you giggle.
y/user
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y/user: Beach, Bike, BBQ and Boba all in Bondi
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valterribottas: nice alliteration hunny!
-> y/user: thank you baby! Thought it was very funny!
fan1: say hello to our resident beach Barbie and beach Ken.
-> fan2: no because the way her job is literally beach and his job is literally car 🥲😅
->fan3: yeah not an f1 driver and Olympic Silver Medalist lmfao 🤣
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inkyquince · 1 year
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YOU MAKE ME WEEP 😭 I MISS YOU AND I HAVEN'T BEEN ON. can't wait for the semester to wrap up. but i did get a job for the summer hahaha!!
i'm trying to get pregnant by kylar or eden. so far i have FAILED.
honestly, i must ask how you would think wren would be as a parent. would love to hear any thoughts on that!!!
THIS GOT BURIED, IM SO SORRY!!
DW, we know how Eden and Kylar are. Non stop fuck nasty machines.
Okay, for Wren as a dad, it... Depends?
Like, does he like you as a fuck buddy or does he... Like you, like you? Like Like... Like Love Like?
Cuz if its the first one, I think the best you get is that he's going to be not present at all. Like he sends money, he's going to show up some days to absolutely dazzle your kid with a horse ride and presents and shit, and then won't come and visit for another 8 months. He's flighty as fuck, he's busy. Your kid will have his beautiful hair, maybe his soft brown eyes. Maybe your kid will always love him because he's the cool fun dad who spoils them when he does come around. Maybe they get disenchanted by him by the time they hit their teens. He doesn't pick up when they call, he doesn't come to important events. Maybe one day he comes by with a couple of presents and they flatly turn down going out for a day with him. You might get to watch his face fall a bit. Maybe just his eyes just get a bit duller.
Your kid goes off to hang out with friends and you and Wren get to have a drink together for the first time in ages, since his attention is normally on your kid, never you. He's down. Says he wants to do better. But you know him by now. So you just offer a pat on the back, and wonder if this is the last time you'll see him again, since he's finally been turned away by his kid, and has no reason to come back anymore.
NOW, if you're someone he actually fucking likes?
My god. Wants his annoying input in everything you do. Choosing a flat? "Sunshine, babycakes, darling, its cheaper to get a lil cottage out on the farmlands, and then I can come by every night after work and-" Deciding on a crib? "Sweetheart, muffin, angel face, let me see if i can get it handmade, never should trust the plastic shit, fuck, I slept in the top drawer for the first 3 months of my life, baby-" Like its cute, but shut up babe.
He's going to be in your damn life. Even if you say he can take a backseat, he's fucking taking that backseat out, taking out the gear stick and putting his seat there. Fuck you.
Somehow got into your phone to get a copy of important upcoming dates, and he skids into the ultrasound, all sweaty, just as you're getting your gown on.
He's going to be your fucking best friend in this. That's Wren as a lover, boyfriend, partner, it's as a best friend who really wants to get into your pants and deigns to bombard you with sloppy kisses just because he knows it makes you swat at him.
He would sometimes not show up days in a row, but it's never months. Just a few days, and he comes back with an oversized plush under his arm, or a stupidly big cake or something.
He loves that kid man. He's always gonna love his kid, but they aren't an afterthought anymore. He wants 50 more hours in the day, so he doesn't have to choose between work and his home.
Wren's also fucking terrified. He knows the town he lives in, its why he wanted you in the farmlands, not in town. Will beg you to consider homeschooling. In his perfect world, his kid never steps foot in town, and gets to grow up with nature, and feeling safe. Doesn't matter what age, he wants to be old as fuck, and have his 40 year old kid still at home and training horses or something.
Wren, overall, as a parent would love his kid. But his relationship with you would decide how much he wants to actually be there.
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love-toxin · 2 years
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not sure if this is something you're comfortable with so if it is, i apologize and just ignore this. Im not normally a big period sex person but today is the first day of my period and all i can think is Eddie selling me weed and enticing me into sleeping with him.
like please sir. ease my cramps. just wanna get high with him and have some sex with him to ease my mood 🥴💀😭
EHEH. as someone with the worst periods imaginable, this appeals to me greatly. teehee!
cws: blood, period sex, drugs, smoking, outdoor sex, first kisses, dominance kink, you awaken eddie's caregiving kink, period talk, petnames, crying, fluff and comfort, fem reader.
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".....Huh. So that's why you want it, huh?"
Eddie's teasing you--he must be. He'd tried so hard to extract the truth out of you, pondering the question of why such a delicate little girl like you was sniffing him out for some weed out of the blue, and now he's got his answer.
Yeah, your period's kicking your ass. It's always been painful, but it's just gotten more and more difficult to deal with as you've gotten older. It's reached a level where you can barely get out of bed some days, and even your friends have noticed you struggling to focus on classes and just get through the day at all. Your last resort, after dozens of emptied pill bottles and hot water bottles used so much they're leaking, is the town's second-best drug dealer: Eddie Munson.
"Izzit really that bad?" He queries, brown eyes trained on you.
"If it wasn't, I wouldn't be here." You snap, not intentionally, but it was gonna come out that way no matter what. At least you can expect he won't mock you with the question of whether you're on the rag, because he already knows you are.
"Okay, okay, I get it. But don't complain if it doesn't help." He shrugs his shoulders, and rolls a couple joints with such a quick hand he makes it look easy. Deft fingers tuck the paper in on itself as he makes sure nothing falls out, because he reassured you that he would do a good job since you can't do it yourself. It's actually a little surprising that he didn't tease you at all for that--until you hear what he has to say next. "I, uh, hope it does, though. Y'know. Can't imagine bleeding every month is easy."
"Obviously it's not....but....thank you, Eddie." He finishes the joint, and looks over at his lunchbox in contemplation. There seems to be something on his mind, some thought rolling around in that brain rooted in by long, curly waves of hair.
"...Is what they say true?"
"What?" He fiddles with the clasp like he's got something he'd rather be saying, but his hands are soon busied with a lighter lying nearby that he flicks open and closed.
"....That you can help period pain with orgasms?" He strikes you dumb, speechless even, and when the air comes back into your lungs you spit out the first thing that comes to mind.
"Perv."
"Humour me." He's surprisingly serious about it, at least he seems that way. You were convinced this was a tease, a friendly jab at your expense, but the way Eddie's looking at you....the intense staring contest you share is interrupted only when you clear your throat, and Eddie's eyes drop to ignite the little burst of flame that erupts from the zippo, before he holds it to a joint he swipes up and puts in his mouth.
"...Yes. I think. I don't really do anything on mine...it's just..." This is so embarrassing. Why are you spilling your guts to Eddie Munson of all people? He cups the flame with his newly freed hand to keep the light from going out, and finally returns your shy gaze when he clicks the lighter closed and puffs on it before plucking it off his lips.
"Messy?" He hands the joint over to face the unlit end towards you, and you take it gratefully to sweep a cloud of smoke into your needy lungs.
"Y-Yeah."
The silence is deafening as you smoke together, passing it back and forth once, and then twice.
"...I could help you."
"Yeah, sure." You brush him off. What a cruel joke while you're already vulnerable. Eddie leans in close.
"I'm serious. Gimme ten minutes. Swear I can help you." If your heart was any more silent, you would've expected yourself to drop dead--because in that moment, it's so quiet you can hear a pin drop in the forest. Eddie tilts his head, searching for an answer or a streak of disgust in your pretty eyes, and waits out the silence with an unsettlingly serious expression on his face. One that splits into a smirk when you finally nod 'yes', throat clenched too tight to even think of saying it out loud.
"Gotta make this quick then, sweetheart." He drops the stubby end of the joint into the gravel, snuffing it out with the toe of his sneaker in the same motion he uses to get up out of his seat, hands braced on the table and shaking with excitement. It comes out in his breathing too, shuddered breaths puffing out his chest as he circles round the table to your side, the anticipation driving one of those hands into your hair and his lips between your brows as he tugs at your top.
"Wait, w-we're gonna make a mess, though!" You hiss in a whisper, breaking off of the heart-battering kiss for your head to swivel back and forth, eyes scanning the woods for an audience as Eddie pulls you up to your feet and shuffles you over to the side of the table--your butt pressed against the edge before he lifts you up to sit on top of it, grinning like a fool the whole way.
"Yeah we are," He breathes, smelling of pot and cigarettes and lust. "Gonna make a fuckin' mess of you, princess."
The weed is hitting you now. The world is tinged with warmth, a fuzzy feeling in your brain that leaks down your veins and makes the fire burning in your belly burn even hotter. Each graze of Eddie's fingertips against your skin as he pulls your panties down your legs strikes another match, and although you know in your head that this is such a bad idea, the thought of stopping makes you whine--it feels good, and that's all that matters. It's a quick dive into an all-encompassing high, and by then you're so amiable you fully commit to what you're doing. Eddie's mouth presses into your neck as he whispers a question, and you nod again, clutching at his shirt and his toned arms as he kisses reassurance into your skin and tugs the string of your tampon until it comes completely out. Throws it somewhere, abandons it into the world that doesn't exist to you right now--because the only things that do are you, Eddie, and the table keeping you upright.
"You're so weird, Eddie.." You whimper into his neck, hiding your face in his shirt and his hair, all while he's undoing his zipper and tugging his half-hard cock out from his boxers. "You sh-should be grossed out..."
He really should. No guy you've ever met would dare to get near you or any girl on their period, and here's Eddie Munson offering to soothe your cramps with an orgasm, and guiding his cockhead to slide between your folds without care to how much blood must be coating it. You can feel it dripping down your ass where you sit, so it must be quite a bit--he teases you with a gentle prod inside, just barely enough to sheathe the tip, and his back buckles when he gets a feel for just how tight you really are.
"Come over later, and I'll eat you out too." The whine that rips out of you at that amuses him, and he chuckles in a way that sounds more like a growl as he finally slides in all the way. "Don't hide that pretty face from me."
His fingers clamp down on the back of your neck, yanking your head back to see your expression twisting up with worry and twinging with an ache from the deep stretch he's putting upon you. Your eyes are still darting to the side and behind him, your brain spinning too fast with fear of being caught--but he angles your head so you're level with him, bright eyes finally settling on his as he struggles not to claim your lips in a kiss he's been wanting since you first sat down across from him.
"S'just you and me," He pants, clearly focusing hard on not getting overwhelmed with the rather unique sensations. "Don't worry about anything else. Just focus on me. I'll take care of everything."
One buck of his hips, an experimental one, and any attempt to stay quiet on your end is futile. A very pleased cry tears its way out of your lungs and rings out into the forest, and while Eddie dips his head on instinct, he halts at a stop while his hips keep rolling, slowly.
"Can I kiss you?" You blink absentmindedly at him, trying to process that request while his lips are so close to yours, and look so kissable.
"I like to kiss when I do it." He smiles to reassure you, uses it as a weapon despite his eyes squinting and his face growing hot as he finds his rhythm. "Please? Promise it won't mean anything."
"Don't promise me that..." You say without thinking, mind muddled and hazy with want and your arms linking up around his shoulders to lean in closer, your noses bumping each other's. A surprised "Oh?" slips out of him, followed closely by a moan as he hits some kind of resistant wall inside you. The drugs make it all fuzzy, so it doesn't even hurt, but Eddie's being too sweet for you to think it would anyways.
"You into the freak, sweetheart? Was this your plan?"
"No! Shut up, Eddie!" Gasping, you're sucking the exhaled breaths out of his lungs in the shared space, but your words have no bite and the throaty snicker that escapes him when you fall for his trap prove that he knows it. He's faster, losing a little bit of that confident decorum, one hand on your lower back while the other busies itself with sliding messy circles into your clit.
"Hit a nerve," He gasps as you tighten around him, your back arching into his thrusts, while your pussy drools with all manner of slick; blood, arousal, and the spit off of Eddie's quick fingers. "Did I?"
"Stop making fun of me..." You finally whimper, breaking that facade as the world hits your shoulders and you feel the weed stirring up all your emotions and bringing them out. That mixed with the hormonal shifts of your mood have you teary-eyed and sniffly, and yet Eddie's not bothered--he looks entertained, has a soft look on his features, he pulls you closer against him and nuzzles the tip of your nose with his.
"Sorry, baby," He chuckles again, deeper this time, and narrows his eyes down at your lips. "I just like you too."
I like you too. Those words are foreign, even more so in Eddie's voice, but they're not unpleasant. Not even close. Eddie gives you one last chance to bail, one moment of hesitation with his mouth so close to yours, and you don't waste it. You close that distance between you, soft lips meeting chapped but warm ones, and Eddie moans almost immediately into the kiss like it's even hotter to him than fucking you outright. It doesn't last long but it doesn't have to, it's sweet and it's perfect, and there will be more. God, there will be so many more if the glimmer in his eyes when you break the first one is anything of a tell.
"Think I hook up with just anyone I deal to? 'M not some--ngh--common whore." He laughs. What a nice way to say "This is the first time, you're the only one I would do this with." in a way that still befits your Eddie. Your Eddie.
"C-Cum in me, Eds..." You whine, pawing at his shoulders to pull him closer as he works his hips, muscles flexing as he puts in so much effort to rub your clit in tandem. He's close too, you can feel it, can feel the twitches and spasms of his dick as he chases that spot inside you--the one that's so soft it makes you buckle into him when he pummels it, and causes you to gush all over him when he thumbs your clit just right at the same time.
"Can't," He pants, forehead pressed against yours to kiss you again between every few words. "Ask me when we're both sober." He chuckles out, sliding right into a groan as he hits his stride and starts rocking the table beneath you with the weight of his hips slapping against yours.
"Not gonna let you...pull out..." You lock your legs around his thin waist, ankles hooking behind his back to yank him closer and keep those thrusts short and sharp. He can barely manage to touch you, you're so close, and with gritted teeth he relents and wipes his fingers clean of the blood on his pants.
"My good girl," He pulls back, hands cupping both sides of your face and tugging strands of errant hair away from your eyes. He looks innocent, but his voice turns sinister in a second as he squishes your cheeks in a strong grip. "You're gonna do whatever I fucking tell you to do."
Immediately, you let your legs drop from where they once sat on his hips, going limp and boneless in his hold as your orgasm creeps up closer and closer on you. His voice is sexy when he's close but the words, those are something you won't shake loose from your thoughts so easily. Your fingers flutter to clasp over his hands on your cheeks, your bodies moving with no help from your arms yet your satisfaction growing with the harsh scraping of his wiry hairs against your clit on each thrust. You want his cum so bad in the moment, want him to commit completely to making you a mess--but following his commands somehow feels....better. Feel that fluttering in your tummy and your clit when he speaks up and says anything with that stern tone.
"Shit, you're cute when you obey me--f-fuck, fuck it, god-" Eddie's hand shoots down in those last few moments, desperately pawing and rubbing at your sensitive little spot to put that pressure on it that you need--and it makes you clench so hard around him that it's all he needs to finish, forgoing any sense and conscience to keep quiet as he runs his mouth with dirty words and slips out of you, the cool breeze on his bare cock all he needs for it to spit heavy globs of pearly-white cum all over your thighs. He tries, really he tries not to get it near your slit, but a fat dribble of it shoots right across your clit as the icing on the cake. Not that you would notice or care, though, as you're squealing Eddie's name and clinging to him dearly as you cum around nothing and your body shakes with waves of pleasure that blot out everything but him.
It's like a spiritual experience in a way--the tears spilling down your cheeks and wetting Eddie's hands as he cups them, rubbing you through your orgasm until you can't take another second of pleasure and bump his hand away, slumping completely in his arms and laying your head on his shoulder. It sobers you up somewhat; the clear-headedness after you cum, the cold air hitting your sensitive areas, and the smell and touch of Eddie as he strokes your hair and talks you down back into real life. It hurts but it feels good, it aches but you're glowing....you want to say something sweet, to tell him something sincere, to do anything, but when you finally sit up and look down the tears just overwhelm you again.
"Eddie, my skirt..." You sniffle, shakily lifting it up with one hand to assess it. There's blood everywhere, soaking your clothing and the table, staining Eddie's crotch and his jeans, and there's a puddle of it mixed with his cum on the ground beneath you. At least his pants are dark, so it's not noticeable on him, but it's light out and you look like you came straight out of Carrie. "I can't...c-can't.."
"Shh," Eddie soothes, guiding your face forward to kiss your forehead. His voice is so much lower now, seemingly unfazed by the circumstances even though he seriously should be. "You have a tampon, sweetheart?"
"In my bag," You whimper, and he doesn't bother cleaning himself off before he zips back up. Deftly, he pulls your backpack over to dig inside the first pocket he sees before pulling one out triumphantly. "I'll..I'll..." Your hands are too shaky. You can barely open the plastic when he hands it to you, and even when Eddie does it for you, you can't even aim it right. You've never felt so pathetic, despite just having the best time of your life, and making such a big mess is just so embarrassing. He must think I'm gross.
"I can put it in for you, sweetheart. Just talk me through it." There's no energy for you to even shake your head, you just let your lip wobble and beg him not to tease you, to which he responds with a kiss and a solemn swear that he won't say a word. He even pauses to retrieve some abandoned tissues in his lunchbox to clean you up first, at least to get the cum wiped off and most of the blood dried for the moment.
And when you give in, it's easy--he does exactly as he's told, seems somewhat familiar with it within moments of handling it, and as quick a learner as ever he pushes the proper end in and pulls the plastic out, smiling with pride in himself as he slips the applicator into the packaging and tucks it into his pocket to throw away later.
"Feel better, at least?" He finally murmurs with a clean hand on your cheek, not daring to move you for fear of making you dizzy or pushing you too far. And he hasn't left, hasn't shown even an inkling of desiring to, which just boggles your mind further but makes it easier to let those thoughts spill out.
"You ruined everything." You lean into him, worry turning his features. An unexpectedly sincere and slightly frantic apology is halfway off his lips before you cut him off rather abruptly, though. "You're the only thing that makes it better now..."
"Really? Not the weed?" He giggles at how sweetly you say it, the compliment evidently like music to his ears. "Guess I'll have to help you again. We'll do it somewhere a little cleaner next time, mkay?"
You hum in agreement, amiable to whatever he says so long as you get to keep listening to his voice. "Want me to drive you home, or you wanna change and go back to class?"
"Yours?"
Eddie rubs your chin with a calloused thumb, his teeth gleaming all white and pretty as the rest of his life flashes before his eyes. It's dangerous to go home with a boy you don't know that well--but Eddie's clearly not that kind of guy, and the kiss he so lovingly presses to your lips when he gets you on your feet, and ties his beloved Dio jacket around your waist, says it all.
"Course, sweetheart. I'll take good care of you, for being such a sweet girl to me. Don't you worry about a thing."
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