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hairmetal666 · 10 months

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Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.

Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.

He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.

"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.

He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?

Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.

He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.

Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.

Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.

Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.

Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.

"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."

Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."

Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"

Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.

"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."

"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."

"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."

"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.

"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.

"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."

They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.

"Working on new music?"

Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.

"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"

Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."

"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."

He grimaces. "That's a low bar."

"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.

"Shut-up."

"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."

"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"

"No, not at all. Just curious."

"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"

"Gossip," Eddie frowns.

"Anyone else you got your eye on?"

"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.

"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.

Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"

Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."

"Are you lonely?"

"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."

"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.

"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"

"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"

"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.

"The one that got away?"

"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."

Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"

"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"

"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."

Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.

"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."

"Wait, Steve--"

"See you around."

He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.

Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.

"Eddie, I don't--"

"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."

"What?"

"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."

"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?

"God, since 1986, at least."

Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"

"You're mine too," the words tumble out.

"What?"

"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."

"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"

"Pathetic gay yearning and all."

Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.

Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.

Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."

"It's been a decade!"

"Fuck," Eddie cackles.

They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.

"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.

Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"

"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."

"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"

Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."

Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #oneshot #angst #friends to lovers #angst with a happy ending #idiots in love #mutual pining #famous eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #regular guy steve harrington #pathetic gay yearning #fluff #the one that got away #second chances #getting together

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muniimyg · 4 months

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1: the confession // series m.list

note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk

fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston

The library is your favourite place.

At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better.

You won’t have it this time.

No way. You have so much work to do!

"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter.

“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!”

“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”

“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”

“But then what if I need to throw up—”

“Then throw up.”

“... Jungkook will be there!”

You blink at him.

“So?”

Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”

His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming.

Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.

“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy.

Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”

Your eyes widen.

In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”

“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”

“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion.

Hobi rolls his eyes at you.

“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”

Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail.

He’s right.

You are dense.

But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?

“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”

“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you.

“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"

Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction.

“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”

“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly.

You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted.

Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you.

He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…

Wow…

“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.

“... H-hi.”

He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”

Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”

Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”

“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head.

“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm.

If piss drunk, please return to ___.

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back.

“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”

Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi.

“She doesn’t wanna go.”

Hobi groans.

“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”

“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."

He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”

Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out.

If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number.

“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks.

“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”

“What? Why?”

Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”

Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”

You laugh.

“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”

Hobi turns to Jungkook.

Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”

With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you.

“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”

Your body stiffens.

“Do what?”

Jungkook eyes your chair distance.

“You moved away.”

What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch.

“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”

“I’m moving closer to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”

“N-no!”

Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“Now you do.”

For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?

Oh god.

“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?

“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone.

You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear you well.

“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”

You stay silent and contemplate.

Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—

“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”

Then, you blurt it out.

“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.”

Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath.

He doesn’t deny it.

“I do have a crush on you.”

Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?

“W-what? You can’t j-just—”

Jungkook tilts his head and pouts.

“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs.

You hit his chest.

“This isn’t funny!”

“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”

“Hey! I like it here.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I… I thought you wanted to study.”

Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”

“... To study!”

“To be with you.”

You shut up.

No words, no thoughts, no feelings.

Okay…

Feelings. Lots of them.

“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."

You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you.

“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."

You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!

And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—

"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"

#bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook x yn #jungkook uni au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble series #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x yn

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eddiesxangel · 5 months

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Just A Pinch |Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: you get your nipples pierced and surprise Eddie. Requested by @jordynyingling0219 🤗.

Cw: smut 18+ minors go away. Nipple play (obviously), eddie worships your tits, Boob job, dirty talk, pet names, fingering.

Not having Eddie touching yours boobs for about a month was one of the hardest things you had to avoid when you came up with your little plan to surprise him with new nipple piercings. He was always at you, holding your boobs even if it wasn’t for anything sexual. He just found them conforming.

So when you jerked your body away the first time he reached for you he thought you were mad at him. He wracked his brain for anything that he could have done to piss you off, however he came up empty… He bought you apology flowers just to be safe. Your heart yearned for him, you hated that he thought he had done something wrong. You promised you weren’t mad of him but you still didn’t let him touch your soar sensitive nipples regardless. You were sticking with the plan because you knew the reaction would be so worth it.

The second week you had sex but refused to let him see or touch them again. You blamed PMS and said they were too sensitive to be played with this week. Eddie let it go in the moment because he was so deep in your pussy to care. In the back of his mind he was still unsure what your deal was.

The third week you had actually gotten your period so he knew to back off. He knew your breast were so sensitive this time of month so he didn’t even think about it.

The fourth week you were gnawing at the bit to show him. You were so close to the finish line. You had been so regimented with your daily cleaning, and the swelling and soreness had finally subsided, that on the Friday you decided it had been enough time to let Eddie have his way with your tits.

“Baby! I need your help!” You fake cried as you lay completely naked on the bed.

You hear the frantic footsteps of your boyfriend come down the hall to your shared bedroom and you can’t help but giggle quietly with excitement.

“What-woah” Eddie froze in his tracks briefly before he took action. There you were laid out for him on a silver platter for the taking. “What’s gotten into you little minx?” He smirked before crawling his way up the bed to you with a look in his eye that you knew you were in for it tonight.

You hadn’t been fully naked in front of Eddie for a month. And god he missed being with you, especially your boobs. He needed that skin to skin connection and he missed using them as a pillow and and something to put in his mouth.

He was half way up your body when he stopped in his tracks. The low mood lighting you had set caught something shiny and reflective on your chest. As Eddie’s eyes fully scanned you you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You needed to just observe his reaction, you waiting long enough.

“What the fuck? Did you-!?-How did-?! When?!” Eddie was shocked to see your nipples adorned with two ruby red jewels on each side of your hard nipples.

“Do you like it?” You couldn’t tell if he did or not.

“Is this why you’ve been hiding from me?” He avoided the question.

You slowly nodded your head yes and Eddie’s eyes finally snapped away from your boobs to your face.

“God you’re perfect, what did I do to deserve you?” He leaned in to kiss you, hard and you let out a moan of pleasure.

“So you like it?” You asked one more time.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuu-uuu-uuu-uck” he drew out “I love them, I didn’t think they could get any prettier.” He leaned down to examine more. He took each breast in his hands to get a closer look.

“Do they hurt?” He asked as he gently lifted them.

“Not anymore” you sighed. They are more sensitive if anything.

“Oh baby we are about to have so much fun” Eddie was mischievous.

Eddies tongue tentatively flicked your already hard nipple and a soft moan slipped from your lips. That only encouraged Eddie. As he suckled your nipple he could taste the cool metal bar.

The way Eddie was worshiping your body only shot a a wave of pleasure through to your core. He was making you feel so good you wanted to return the favour.

“Babyyyyy” you moaned.

“What! Oh my god! Did I hurt you sweetheart?” He jerked back up.

“No” you cooed “I wanna do something for you” You smirked.

“Baby I think you’ve given me enough.” He cupped your breast again, rubbing each nipple with his thumbs, playing.

“Please” you pout “you’ll really like it.” You sat up and crawled closer to him.

You slipped your hand up Eddie’s shirt and pulled it up over his head. You then stripped him of his pants and boxers letting his throbbing cock pop out.

“What did you have in mind honey?” Eddie asked.

“Sit on the edge of the bed for me.” You instructed as you got off the bed and knelt down infront of him. You then reached into the night stand drawer and got out you lube. Eddie gave you a confused look but you told him to trust you so he did.

You squeezed the slippery liquid into your hand to warm it up before sliding it up and down the soft velvety skin of his long thick cock.

Eddie let out a grunt when your hands made contact with his shaft. He observed you, still confused, as you sat up and adjusted to sit directly between his legs. You took his cock and placed it between your breasts. Eddie’s brain just about short circuited as he watched you envelop his cock between your two breasts.

“Fuck you’re perfect.” He sat back and watched you as you worked your boobs up and down his cock. The soft warm delicate skin of your boobs, mixed with the sight of your decorated nipples was making him wanna bust right then and there, but then you dipped your head down to take the tip in your mouth and he embarrassingly came right then and there.

“Mmmmm” you hummed with a smile as you swallowed him down.

“Fuck baby you’re killing me” he huffed as he caught his breath.

“I’m glad you like them” you giggle.

“Like them?! Fuck baby I love them” Eddie growled as he helped you stand up and took your nipple back in his mouth.

You threw your head back with pleasure as Eddie massaged each breast with his hands and mouth.

“Eddie” you moan

“What is it you want baby?”

“You” you gasp as his fingers found your clit.

You cupped his head trapping his mouth on your nipples. His fingers worked your swollen clit before slipping in a finger. Your knees buckled and Eddie chuckled darkly at the effect he had on you.

“You like that? My dirty girl.” He looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes.

“You know I do! Dont stop!” You cried as the feeling of pleasure built up up up, his fingers hitting each and every right spot until you broke.

You crumbled as you came on Eddie’s fingers.

“That’s my goodgirl” he continued to work your pussy as you rode out your high.

“I didn’t think sex could get any better you laughed.

“Oh we are just getting started darling”

#Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x plus size reader #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #eddie munson fan fic

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redhead1180 · 1 month

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Sunshine

Pairing - dark!Rafe x pogue fem!reader

Summary - Reader has a crush on JJ, but JJ is dating Kie. Rafe decides he wants reader to get over JJ, no matter her say in the matter.

Words - 3k

Warnings MDNI - NON CON, DUB CON, drugging with E, slapping, physical fight (m vs f), dry humping, alcohol use, drug use, rough sex (p in v), degradation, blackmail, very dark Rafe.

A/N: This is my darkest piece I have ever wrote and of course it's for Rafe. He is mean SOB in this, so if that triggers you, please don't read. Thank you to @haven247 for the beta read. I am nervous about writing this dark, but hope you like it. PLEASE HEAD THE WARNINGS!

Being at a kook party was not your idea of fun, but they had free booze and it was better than a keggar. After the last week you’ve had, you have every intention of getting plastered and trying to forget your crush and best friend was dating someone else.

JJ your best friend since you were 4 and crush since you were 14, was officially dating Kie. And it hurt, a lot. You knew it was coming, saw the writing on the wall, but held out hope it wouldn’t. The only person who knew about the crush, that you knew of, was John B. He was your brother from another mother, and knew you inside and out. You three had been friends so long, you don’t remember a time when they weren’t there. John B has given you hug and told you he was sorry the day you saw them kissing through the Chateau window. He informed you they were dating and you had gone home and cried yourself to sleep. Avoiding them this past week, but couldn’t get around it for this party.

You had watched them dance, laugh, and make out, and were completely ready to vomit. Or wait, was they alcohol? I was in my 3rd concoction of the night and was not feeling much of anything. Well physically anyway.

Anyway, you were in the kitchen getting another drink, when you heard the last voice, you wanted to here.

“Well, well if it isn’t Miss Sunshine” Rafe Cameron sneered as he walked into the kitchen.

“Fuck off, Cameron” I told him, trying not to say more and start something.

“Anyone ever told you have a venomous mouth, Sunshine” he laughed.

“Only to you, Cameron. Everyone else thinks I am adorable and sweet” my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I bet you taste sweet” he chuckled. I turned around and caught him looking me up and down. He showed no shame for being caught. “What’s got you drowning in booze tonight? Wouldn’t have anything to do with Maybank and Carrera doing the horizontal mambo, would it?”

“You’re such an asshole, Cameron” You go to walk past him and he grabs your upper arm and pulls close to him.

“Most girls that talk to me the way you do get punished” he leered, inches from my face.

So, side note, when I drink, I think I am ten feet tall and bulletproof. And tonight was no exception.

“Let go of me you fucking psycho!” I hissed at him, pulling my arm. Unfortunately, he was so much stronger than me, my arm barely moved in his grasp. “I swear to God Rafe, I am not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”

“Don’t call me psycho and I think I need to teach you some manners.” he growled right before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in to kiss him.

I instantly started pushing on him and struggling to get free. I bit his lip and he howled in pain and jerked back. I slapped him across the face, not caring this was Rafe Cameron, Kook Prince himself, and no one ever told him no.

He snapped his head back and I looked in his eyes. They were completely black, no amount of blue left, and had a predatory look that actually caused a little fear to creep up my spine. Something else, God help me, arousal shot through to my core and made me soak my panties.

I started to back away and with each step I took back, he took forward.

“Rafe just fucking walk away, leave me alone” I try to sound defiant and flippant, but not sure I pulled it off. His grin was pure evil, reminding me of every Disney villain I ever watched.

*Oh Sunshine, you really shouldn’t have done that” he smirked. I turn to run and get one of the pogues, but he grabs me by my waist and turns me around to throw me over his shoulder.

“You psychotic motherfucker, put me down!” I yell as I punch his back as hard as I can. He just grunts and slaps my ass hard, bringing tears to my eyes and more arousal to leak out of me. My mind was telling me to fight because you hate him, but my body was yelling at me to let him have his way.

He takes you to some room, locks the door, and proceeds to throw you on the bed. He immediately grabs both your wrists and roughly jerks them above your head, causing you to arch your back from the roughness and your tits rub against his chest. The lace bra you wear offered little protection from the friction and instantly your nipples hardened. Rafe chuckles as his free hand rubs over my breasts and pinches my nipples.

“You may not want this, but your body does” he chuckles as his hand slides down over my stomach and to the waistband of my shorts. I continue to struggle, he slaps my bare thigh, causing me to gasp. I know if I looked down right now, there would be a red hand print.

“You’re a feisty thing, maybe we should get you a little more pliant.” He threatens.

I see him reach in the pocket of his shorts, but don’t see anything in his hand when he pulls it out.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand trying to keep the worry out of my voice.

“Just a little something to make you enjoy it more.” He smirks as he places a pill on his tongue and grabs my jaw to look at him.

“Open up, Sunshine” he murmurs as leans in to kiss me.

I try to shut my mouth, but the hold he has on my jaw won’t let me. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I feel the pill begin to dissolve as he devours my mouth. God he is a good kisser, I can’t stop myself as I whine in the kiss, causing him to moan. He held my jaw until the pill was fully dissolved, then he lets go, but we continued to kiss. Fuck, what was I doing, this was Rafe, I should be biting his fucking tongue off, yet I didn’t want the kiss to stop. He finally pulls away when air became a necessity.

“What the fuck did you give me, Rafe?” I pant, still trying to catch my breath from the kiss.

“Aww Sunshine, it’s just a little E to make you forget your troubles and help me fuck you without the feistiness.” He smiles down at me. I start to struggle again and hurt him in some fashion. His hold on my wrists and him between my legs really left me defenseless, and he knew it.

“Now let’s get rid of these clothes.” He grabs the neckline of my shirt and rips it down the middle. I screech from shock, and he continues ripping till it is off me.

“Oh Sunshine, you have some beautiful tits.” He groans as he leans down and latches his lips on one of my nipples. I gasp out from pleasure as he sucks, nibbles and licks my nipples through my bra. Thousands of jolts of delight ripple through my body to my core. I began to feel a zing of energy and mixing that with pleasure, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips up into Rafe.

“That’s it baby, let the drug begin to work. Let me make you feel good and forget Maybank for tonight.” He murmurs as he continues his assault on my tits, his mouth on one and his hand, pulling and pinching the other.

“More” I whimper to him, trying to get more friction. He reached behind me undoing my bra and let go of my wrists, I moved my arms so he can get off. My hands fly into his hair to push more into my chest. He grinds down on me and I groan, I feel the heat build in my stomach.

I have a slight moment of clarity, where I thought what the fuck am I doing, when Rafe rolls his hips and the tip of cock hits the seam in my shorts just right to rub my clit and I see stars. I moan out as I squeeze my eyes shut and let my orgasm wash over me.

“Fuck Sunshine, when was the last time you came?” he chuckles, reaching down to unbutton my shorts and take them off. He stands up, using the opportunity of me in a blissful state, to rid himself of his clothes. I look over to him and see his cock saluting me. My eyes wide at how big he was.

“Shit Rafe, I don’t know what you plan to do with that monstrosity, but it ain’t fitting in me.” I say in wonder.

“I’ll make it fit,” he said as he spread my legs and slapped my pussy. I yelped, still sensitive from my release, but it caused a wildfire to spread through my veins. He slapped it a few more times, rendering me a whiny mess. I tried to hide my face, ashamed at how he was making me feel. I knew the E was mainly to blame, but a part of me knew it wasn’t all the drugs.

“Oh, don’t be shy now” Rafe taunted as he pulled my hands from face and roughly kissing me.

Distracted by his kiss, I didn’t notice he lined his cock up to enter me. He shoved it in my soaked pussy and I screamed in his mouth. The pain and burn from his stretching without prep was almost unbearable. Instantly, tears formed in my eyes and I pulled my mouth free.

“FUCK!” I cried out “Rafe, get out, pull out, it hurts so bad!” I cry but he continues to snap his hips into me, even though I was pushing on his stomach.

“Shut the fuck up and take it.” He growled as he grabbed my arm and jerked it above my head, slamming into me faster. I was whimpering, crying mess underneath him. He continued to pound into me, hitting my cervix, lips taking what they wanted from my lips down to my breasts.

“I’ll have you forgetting Maybank after tonight and you’ll only want my cock in this pussy. You’re mine now, Sunshine” he rasped in my ear.

“I hate you” I hissed at him.

Eventually the pain began to be replaced by pleasure, my cries turning into moans as I felt my core heat up and the band began to tighten.

“You keep saying that, but your body doesn’t,” he taunted “you might be venomous, nonchalant, and a raging bitch to the rest of the world, but all you needed was a Daddy to tame that mouth and this pussy. Didn’t you?”

I ignored him, not wanting to agree with him. Suddenly I heard and then felt the smack across my face. I let out a shocked yelp and grabbed face with my free hand. My body betrayed and a rush of arousal coated his cock.

“Oh, you like being slapped huh? When I ask you a question, you answer it, slut” he hissed at me.

“Yes Daddy” I moaned out, before slapping my hand over my mouth, not believing what I just said.

“That’s my good little slut” he teased.

He let go of my hand and reached down with both hands to push my thighs into my chest. I cried out as the new position hit my G-spot and I saw stars. Within seconds, the band snapped in my stomach and I was screaming daddy repeatedly.

“That’s it, you little cunt, cum all over my cock.” He grunted before pulling out and flipping me over on my stomach. He straddled my thighs, pulled my butt up, and shoved himself back into me. I moaned as the new position let him hit deeper. I grabbed the headboard needing to ground myself, as the drugs and orgasm made me feel like I was floating away.

He wrapped his arm around my neck, putting me in a chokehold, snapping his hips into me at such an ungodly pace. I could already feel another release coming. The drugs had all my senses turned up to an eleven, the burning in my stomach, the tingling in my core, the pleasurable pain every time he hit my cervix. I felt that if I had another orgasm, I would fly off into outer space.

“S’too much, daddy” I whine, trying to push on his stomach. “I can’t do it”

He slapped my hand away and smacked my thigh hard, making me cry out.

“You will take everything I give you. You’re my little cum slut now and you will obey me” he grunted. He grabs my arm and jerks them around behind my back, grabbing both wrists with one hand. With his other hand, he grabs hair and uses both as leverage to fuck me harder.

All you could hear in the room were my ‘uh-uhs’ and our skin slapping together. I was close as my walls begin to flutter around his cock, but he was too as I felt his hips stutter.

“You better cum before me or you’re outta luck,” he panted. “We’re not here for your pleasure, only mine.” He taunts as he speeds up getting closer to his release.

I manage to wrestle one of my hands free and reach down to rub my clit. The added stimulation almost instantly makes me fall over the edge, I scream out and clamp down on Rafe’s dick. My body convulses as I have the strongest release of my life, but the E in my system causes me to keep cumming tears falling down my cheeks as I can’t stop.

“Jesus Fuck” Rafe gasps, “You’re clenching so tight I can barely move.”

He forces his cock in and out of me as he pants and grunts. Slamming into me one more time, I feel his seed shoot out against my walls.

“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hisses. He slowly thrust back into me a few times before pulling out and flip me over. I was essentially a rag doll by this point.

“Oops can’t have any Daddy’s juices spilling out can we?” he smirks, shoving two fingers in me pushing his cum back in me. I whimpered and grabbed his wrist.

“Stop, too sensitive” I whimper out.

“Stop being a whiny slut” he sneers before slapping my pussy a few times. I cry out, tears running down my cheeks. He reaches for his phone and takes a picture of me.

“What the fuck” I snap.

“I need something to jerk off to when you’re not around”

He shows me the picture. I look royally fucked out, mascara and tears running down my cheeks, lipstick smeared all over my face, bruises and hickeys around my neck and chest. He grabs my phone and tosses it to me.

“Unlock it” he demands.

I do without any argument. He puts his number on and sends himself a text, so that he has my number.

“When I call, I expect you to answer and come to me” he demands coldly. “If you don’t, then the whole island will know your just my cum slut and enjoy it. I have evidence.” he grins.

I nod, knowing he had me, because the thought of the pogues, especially JJ finding out made me sick to my stomach. He tossed my shorts and some tshirt he found to me.

“Now you’re gonna get dressed, go back to the party and act like nothing happened. Your hickeys were from some random touran.” He instructed. “The whole time you pine over JJ, my cum will be seeping out of your cunt. Oh, and clean your face up.”

I move slowly getting off the bed. I get dressed and head to the en suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and start to cry. I splash water on my face, cleaning myself up, the whole-time sobbing.

Rafe comes in the bathroom and stares at me for a minute. I turn to face him and he smacks me on the cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and leave his handprint.

“Stop crying like a cunt,” he mocked me, “You enjoyed it, I think I counted three orgasms from you?”

“It was the drugs” I argue.

“Sure, sure. The explain why you were soaked before I gave you the E?” he asked.

I’m looked away cause I had no answer, at least not one I was willing to admit.

“S’what I thought,” he smirked “Now get downstairs, before I change my mind and take you home, tie you up, and use you all night.”

I ran out of the bedroom and went downstairs, looking for my friends.

Walking around, I finally found John B and Sarah making out in a corner. Pope was in another room trying to woo a girl with coroner talk, the poor girl looked scared for her life. The last room I walked into, JJ and Kie were on a couch, Kie in JJ’s lap making out. My friends, wait no family, didn’t seem to have missed me.

I walked into the kitchen and made me a drink and walked outside to one of the patio chairs. My phone dinged with a message.

Remember our deal and no one finds out. Although with as worried as they were for you, not sure they would seem to care.

I downed my drink and got up to get another one, tears running down my cheeks.

How the fuck did I get in this situation and what was I gonna do. All knew was I hated Rafe Cameron and I would find a way out.

Tagging some moots:

@princessmaybank @echo-at-the-pond @babygorewhore @drudyslut @rafescokewhore @rafesc0kewh0re @starfxkr @blueicequeen19 @drewstarkeyslut @pankowperfection @maybankskiss @ch4rrykisses

#outer banks #rafe cameron #obx #tw dark content #dark rafe #dark smut #dark!fic #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader

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attapullman · 3 months

Text

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head.

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action.

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?"

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester.

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed.

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg.

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse.

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily.

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester.

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!”

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch.

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house.

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare?

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face.

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats.

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest.

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe.

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?”

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them.

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself.

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher.

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder.

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.”

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you.

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent.

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good.

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind.

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right.

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands.

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses.

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out.

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light.

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

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ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Text

How JJK men act in and after a fight

Pairing: Gojo x reader, Megumi x reader, Nanami x reader

Word Count: 4,1k (a big baby)

Warnings: obviously hurt in every part but also a loooot of fluff, Megumi being as inexperienced as he is lol, Nanami's part is pure fan service, you're very welcome

Notes: I consider writing part ll of that with Choso, Geto and maybe Toji. If you're down for that, just leave me a comment or a like <3 as always thank y'all from the bottom of my heart for the love and support you give me, I truly don't deserve it <3

Part ll with Geto, Choso and Yuji can be found here

Tags: @ifuckfictionalmen @sanicsmut

Gojo Satoru

“So you think I’m being ridiculous? I saw the way she looked at you and how her hand brushed against yours way too often”, you hiss, whole body trembling in pure rage.

“Oh, so every woman that touches me is apparently into me, now I get it”, he sarcastically remarks.

You bite your tongue, desperately trying to stop yourself from crying. Why is he not able to understand that you don’t feel comfortable with that situation at all? You told him over and over, especially when she completely ignored your presence on your first meeting. How does he not see all of this?

“You…You transferred money to her. A lot, actually. And all of that after she completely ignored me when you introduced me”

“Just like I do for you-“

“I’m your wife, moron!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

Satoru’s face is twisted in annoyance. He thought he’d come home to your loving arms, cuddling on the couch after a stressful day. But this? You stormed into him the second he opened the door, holding up bank statements. Over the past weeks, this happened way too often, interrupting your otherwise very peaceful marriage in a way Satoru can’t take any longer.

“So what? We’re colleagues, (y/n). You are my wife, why don’t you get that I am forced to work with other women from time to time?”, he questions.

The way he rolls his blue orbs at you sends you over the edge completely.

“So colleagues transfer money, hold deep eye contact and touch each other oh so casually when having a conversation? Don’t fuck with me, Satoru. I told you over and over that it bugs me, that I’m concerned. And you do absolutely nothing about it.”

“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”, he cries out in frustration.

Your heart sinks immediately when is words hit you with full force. Even though your relationship with Satoru does get pretty heated from time to time, he never called you names. Never.

Not until now, when it comes to that woman.

You need to get off his sight, away from his stinging presence. Without saying another word, you storm into your shared bedroom and lock the door behind you before he’s able to follow you.

“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”

His stinging words repeat themselves over and over in your head while you can’t hold back your tears any longer. This is so unfair. Why is he too blind to see the way she hunts after him, that she wants him to be more than a simple colleague? All you want him is to understand how uncomfortable this situation is for you, that you feel somehow betrayed.

“Open the door, (y/n)”, his clear voice is heard from behind the door.

Satoru knew he overdid it the second he saw the devastated look on your face. No matter how ridiculous this whole topic is, you don’t deserve his anger towards you. Mei isn’t more than a colleague for him though, a woman he has worked with on missions for years. She surely doesn’t like him like that, it’s simply impossible-

His phone vibrates in his pants, making him take a look at the screen.

What do you think about dinner tonight? Just the two of us.

He signs at her message, realization hitting him like a wall. Fuck, what did he do? The countless times her touch brushed over him, the messages she sent him not work related at all every night and how she always avoided the conversation when it came to you flood his mind uncontrollably. How could he make you feel this way? You told him over and over that you feel uncomfortable with this situation, asked him for compromises. And now…

Now he made you feel unwanted, delusional and dumb. You are his wife, the love of his life, the one thing that keeps him going in this world full of madness.

“Can you let me in, (y/n)? I’m sorry…”, he hushes against the closed door.

You can’t catch your breath, dry sobs hunt your body down when a new wave of sorrow washes over you. Does he even love you? All this time you thought you were the love of his life, his pride. But now…It feels like he chose that woman over you, that he cares about her opinion and feelings more than yours.

“I’m coming in”, he softly announces.

Of course, a simple closed door can’t keep him out if he doesn’t want to.

The second he lays his eyes on your crumpled on the floor figure, his heart completely breaks. Instantly, he kneels down in front of you and embraces you in his arms while your sobs make him hate himself even more.

“I’m so unbelievable sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean it like that at all. It’s just that in my world, there’s only you and no one else. I never understood how you even get the idea of me liking another woman because this scenario is ridiculous to me. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that. I’m so so sorry…”, he mumbles against your ear.

Despite his words still haunt your mind, you can’t help but let yourself fall at least a little into his inviting arms, tears staining his uniform.

“I will talk to her and make clear that you are the one and only for me, I promise.”

It’s impossible to stay mad at him for long. You wrap your longing arms around him, forehead pressed against his.

“So you understand my point?”, you mutter.

“I do and I’m sorry for making you feel this way. You are the only woman in my life and I love you more than anything else”, he reassures you once again.

You definitely won’t get him away this easily. After all, words mean nothing without action. But this is a step in the right direction and for now, you can definitely live with that.

“Now, please stop crying, I’ll call her right away and we’ll watch your favorite show and order some food after, what do you think?”

“Only if you pay”, you sniff.

Megumi Fushiguro

“Oh, where are you going?”, you question when your boyfriend Megumi gets up from the bed so early in the morning that it’s still dark outside.

The last few weeks were like a trip to hell and back, it seems like your relationship consists of Megumi going on missions while you have to stay behind. Before this night, you haven’t seen him for one whole week and while you do understand his responsibly as a jujutsu sorcerer, you can’t help but feel hurt.

“On a mission of course”, he remarks dryly.

Your eyes begin to burn as your heart sinks. It’s like you don’t know him anymore, as if he’s only the shell of the man you used to love. Is he so sick of you that he doesn’t want to spend a single day on your side? Is all of this on purpose? You can’t hold back any longer.

“You’re always leaving me”, you blurt out.

It shouldn’t bother you. After all, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. Despite being Shoko’s trainee you should be aware of the fact that this job is a mess and means you have to dedicate your whole life to it.

But still you can’t help but fell hurt. Hurt because your boyfriend doesn’t even smile anymore when he returns, hurt because he comes and goes without saying a word, hurt because you feel like you lost him.

“What was that?”, he grumbles.

“Do you think I do this on purpose?”

“I just feel like you’re never here. And I miss you.”

“Not all of us have an easy job like you, (y/n).”

You swallow hard. Wow, that is new. And extremely painful. Even though you aren’t out there fighting, you still have a lot to do, working your ass off so everyone survives, day and night ready if something happens. This is just not fair.

“You think my job is easy? Stitch yourself up next time, then”, you hiss and cross your arms over your chest.

“Don’t come at me. You started this whole thing!”

“Yeah, I ‘started this whole thing’ because you are my boyfriend and I love you, and I…I fucking miss you! But fine, if you don’t feel the same I’ll just leave.”

It’s ridiculous and you know it, mind screaming violently, begging you to stay. But your heart can’t. This was simply too much. You can’t stay here with a boy that treats you like this.

“If you leave now-“

“Then what?”, you interrupt him immediately, cold eyes glaring at him while your hand rests on the door.

“You’ll leave? You leave every time, Megumi. See you around…Or not.”

And with that, you leave him standing in his room alone, staring at the door like an idiot. What the hell has gotten into you? Since when are you acting up like that? He doesn’t know you like that. But still, your words do make him wonder if you’re somehow right…

He shakes his head violently. No, you’re being ridiculous. Maybe you need to sleep in and you’ll figure this out as soon as he returns.

But one things for sure: Megumi definitely won’t make the first move.

And so days pass until finally weeks begin to pass without both of you saying a single word to each other. Every time you see him you feel like dying inside, heart screaming at you in agony to stop your stubbornness, to approach him and say sorry. But you can’t. You simply can’t over the fact that he let you go like that, not even looking your direction when you cross each other. It’s like he doesn’t know you anymore despite all the nights you shared with each other, despite the intimate moments you’ve had.

No, it seems like he doesn’t care at all.

“Hey (y/n)!”, Nobara greets you.

“Hey, I’m in a bit of a rush”, you explain briefly, already on your way to assist Shoko in an autopsy of a curse.

“It’s just…(y/n), are you and Megumi okay?”, Nobara mutters, her face twisted in concern like you’ve never seen before.

You stop in your tracks, a new wave of grief washing over you. No, nothing is okay, absolutely nothing to be exact. You want to scream it into her face, break down crying, let all your feelings out. But instead, you just gift her an empty smile and say:

“Sure.”

‘Sure’ as if he never raised his voice at you, ‘sure’ as if Megumi would care about you feeling lonely and missing him, ‘sure’ as if you actually meant something to him

“I mean it’s none of my business but…You guys haven’t talk for what feels like an eternity, you are no longer there and I’m just worried that he messed things up with you, y’know…Well, let me know if I can help you with something, okay?”

She gently places her hand on your shoulder while you have to force yourself to not shed a tear. Oh, if she only knew. If she only knew that the last weeks were absolute hell, that you feel like dying inside. But this is something you and Megumi have to deal with alone. Even Nobara can’t help you with that.

You say goodbye to her and walk towards the laboratory, tears still stinging threatening in your eyes. How much you long for talking to him, to tell him how much his words really hurt you. But you can’t bring yourself to make the first step. After all, you tried to talk this out multiple times only for him to not even listen. No, this time he’ll have to make the first move if he wants you back.

If…

“(y/n).”

That voice. That oh so familiar voice that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Megumi”, you breathe out, slowly turning around to face him.

There he stands, scratching his head while looking at your feet, eyes not meeting your gaze.

“How…how you’ve been?”

Even a blind man would see the blush creeping up his face…Is he embarrassed? Painfully awkward silence hangs between you two as all you can do is stare at him, your blood slowly but surely boiling up. Is he really asking you how you’ve been after not talking to you for weeks, ignoring you every time he saw you?

“You have some fucking nerves”, you spit at him, closing the gap between you two with a rushed movement.

“You’re not talking with me for weeks and now you’re asking how I’ve been? I’ve been miserable, Megumi. I felt like dying every time you ignored me!”

Fuck, don’t cry. Don’t let him see how you really feel. Your trembling hands frantically wipe away the threatening tears, eyes darted towards him.

“I just couldn’t, (y/n). It’s just…I…”, he stumbles over his very own words, fingers over and over running through his hair.

“I was able to see it until I thought about it. I’ve been a horrible boyfriend, (y/n). So horrible that I thought you’d be better off without me. But I’m simply too selfish to let you go. I’m sorry for not making time for you, I’m sorry for treating you like shit, I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t love you when in reality, all I was able to think about was you and how much I missed you sleeping besides me”, he suddenly blurts out, leaving you completely speechless.

This is everything. Everything you longed for, ever single word you graved so deeply. Did this thick silence really change the way he sees your relationship now? A look into his sorrow – filled eyes is enough to realize that he’s telling the truth, making your heart jump up and down.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I know I’m not the boy you deserve and I’d fully understand if you’re having enough of me. I just wanted to let you know that I can see it now and that I want to give you what you deserve if you let me.”

The glistening in his eyes literally begs you for a second chance while your very own heart screams at you. Of course you want him back, Megumi is everything you ever wanted. But he’ll have to show that it’s really different this time.

“Promise me something”, you announce.

He tilts his head to his side, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll stay with me today, that we’ll spend time together. No mission, no obligations.”

“I’ll stay as long as you need, as long as you want me around, (y/n). This time without you hurt like hell, I simply don’t want to let you go again”, he hushes, his tender fingertips brushing over your arms.

“That sounds good…”, you mutter, resting your head against his chest.

God, how much you missed that feeling. Even though your relationship had its ups and downs, you always admired the way Megumi was able to calm you down in an instant with a simple touch of his hand.

Maybe you will figure it out now. And maybe him not having time for you stays in the past forever.

Kento Nanami

“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

You’re on your way home after a pretty ugly mission. And even though Shoko already stitched you up, you feel like dying. Everything just hurts, it’s hard to even walk.

The thought of your husband at home makes your guts turn. Not because you don’t love him or aren’t longing to see him, but because of your recent conversation.

“It can’t go on like this, (y/n). You’re always injured and it’s starting to concern me. Maybe I have to talk t-“

“No”, you interrupted him immediately.

“Please don’t. I’ll be careful from now on. I promise.”

“Fine. But if this happens again, I’ll have a talk with the elders.”

And it happened again. All these missions one after another really took their toll on your concentration. One moment of unwariness was enough to sweep you off your feet, thigh sliced open in the nastiest way you’ve ever seen. Shoko told you it will take some time to heal entirely, but if Kento gets to see this…

“Maybe I should call Nanami to pick you up. You really can’t walk like that (y/n).”

“No, please don’t!”, you begged Shoko for dear life.

“I don’t want this to cause trouble. It’s fine, really!”

“You almost died, (y/n)”, she remembered you dryly.

“And I will definitely die if you tell him. Please Shoko.”

She signed.

“Fine. Just be careful and visit me tomorrow…”

You swallow. A fight seems inevitable if you won’t hide your wound from him.

You take a deep breath, keys trembling in your sweaty palms. Fuck, why does this have to ache so badly? Shoko gave so some pain killers, you shouldn’t feel a single thing.

No, focus. Pain is only in your head. But Kento is very real.

With one last stolen glance at your injured leg you open the door, forcing a smile on your face. Where is he? Your heart beats out of your chest, hands so sweaty that you have to wipe them on your coat.

“Kento?”, you shout into the quiet living room, closing the door behind you gently.

“There you are, sweetheart”, his voice coos out of the bedroom.

Your breath hitches, eyes wide open at the sight in front of you. There he stands, your loving husband. Dressed in nothing but his pants, bare chest immediately captivating you. Oh god, he looks so delicious that you feel like fainting, hungry eyes roaming over his tight muscles as if you haven’t seen him like that hundreds of times before.

“Where have you been? A mission like that shouldn’t take this long.”

He begins to approach you elegantly, staring at you with a small smile on his delicate lips.

“Y-yeah…Still had something to…y’know…say…to Shoko”, you stutter.

Why does he have to look so absolutely delicious? And why does your leg suddenly feel so…wet?

“Are you alright? You seem a little unfocused today. Did you get hurt?”

His eyes scan over your body without any mercy, forcing you to hide your leg behind the other.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine”, you press out.

No, you’re anything but fine. The way your other leg brushes against your injured one makes you see stars. You feel like fainting and throwing up at the same time, sweat running down your forehead uncontrollably. You need medication – now.

“I planned something very excited for us today. Something you might like”, he purrs, closing the distance between your bodies.

His hand grabs your waist passionately while your mixed emotions take your breath away. God, how much you love the way his arms wrap themselves around you, knowing exactly that this leads you directly into the bedroom.

But that means…

“Oh yeah?”, you chuckle nervously.

That means he’ll see the wound you’re so desperately trying to hide.

“Absolutely”, he breathes against your ear.

Oh god, this is so good…No, it’s not good at all. You need to get away from him, out of this misery, into t-

A toe-curling scream escapes your lips before you even realize what is happening, body stumbling backwards.

“(y/n)!”, Nanami mutters, eyes wide open.

He squeezed your leg like he always does and just the way you like it. Why on earth are you acting like that? That haunted look on your face almost makes it seem as if he hurt you.

Lost in thoughts, he looks down at his hand.

His blood-smeared hand.

It slowly dawns to him. No, it isn’t because he did something you don’t like. It’s because you’re injured again. And you decided to lie into his face about it.

“What is this?”

Your husband’s voice sounds as unpromising as you imagined it in this situation, eyes widen in horror while you’re still panting in agony.

Fuck. Your heart drops immediately by the sight of his blood smeared hand. Kento is an outstanding smart man, too clever to be considered an idiot by your actions.

“You promised me to stay safe. And that you lie to be about being injured...”

“(y/n), look at me”, he insists, grabbing your chin.

His eyes seem to stare right through your soul as he glances down at you, jaw tightened.

“I can’t believe you lied to me.”

“Only because you’d freak out”, you reply in your own defense.

“Like I should! I told you over and over to look out for yourself, to skip a few missions before you get seriously hurt. And what is that, huh?”

He points at your wounded leg, blood now soaking through the fabric of your skirt.

“You are severely injured. Just like I predicted.”

You feel like a child being scolded by her parents. Even though Kento never raises his voice at you aggressively, you can tell by the way his whole body tenses up and that glistening in his gaze that he’s absolutely furious.

“I am able to look after myself. I know what’s best for me”, you remark annoyed.

Fuck, you’re so damn tired. All you want is to bandage yourself up and go to sleep.

“Yes, I can see that.”

Something about his sarcastic tone and the way he stares down at you while shaking his head makes you snap.

“I’m a grown woman, I don’t need you to look after me like a damn child! Mind your own business, Kento!”

“You are my business. You are my wife. It’s my responsibility to take care of you!”, he barks back.

“But I don’t want you to take care of me, I want you to leave me alone!”, you spit into his face, making him drop his shoulders immediately.

God, you want to take that back straightaway, knowing damn well how your comment hurt his feelings. But at the moment, all you can think about is a warm bed and finally some rest.

You drag yourself into the bedroom and let your trembling body fall onto the mattress. This is not fair, right? After all, you aren’t a child anymore, you are able to look after yourself…right?

You close your eyes, the disappointed look on Kento’s face lingering through your mind. It wasn’t fair to snap at him, though. He is your husband, always caring about you. No, he certainly doesn’t deserve you to treat him like this.

Three soft knocks on the door.

“Can I come in?”, his damped voice questions.

“Sure”, you mumble.

You can’t even look at him when he enters the room in silence, elegant steps leading him to the bed where he sits down next to you. Suddenly, he begins to rip open a package of bandages, catching your attention.

“What are you doing?”

“I take care of you. May I?”

His gaze wanders to your skirt, eyes asking you for permission to pull it up.

“Sure…”, you mutter, a slight blush creeping up your face when his fingers brush over your panties.

“How did this happen?”, he asks softly while his skilled fingers remove the blood soaked bandage.

“I don’t know exactly. Wasn’t paying full attention and got hit by a curse.”

“I see.”

Despite all the things you said to him, despite the way you hurt him a few minutes ago, your man kneels in front of you and caresses your wound with so much affection that it doesn’t hurt at all. Your eyes wander over him, how his gaze is focused exclusively on your thigh, skilled fingers working wonders.

“I’m sorry for lashing out and not telling you”, you let out, not able to hold in your bad conscience any longer.

“I understand that I put you in an uncomfortable position when I threatened to talk to the elders about this and I’m very sorry for that. But it can’t go on like this, (y/n). This is the 5th serious injury within three weeks and I’m truly worried about you. I don’t want you to end like-“

He stops himself from finishing that sentence but oh you know exactly what he means and it shatters your heart. Without hesitation, your fingers grab his face gently, eyes locking with yours.

“I love you, Kento. And I see that you’re right. I’ll talk to the elders tomorrow myself about that”, you assure him.

A small but precious smile appears on his face, free hand caressing your cheek with so much affection that you have to hold back a tear.

“You’re my everything, sweetheart. Let’s stitch you up and go to bed.”

2K notes · View notes

aimless-imagines-for-fun · 8 months

Text

Vacation: Part Three

PART ONE PART TWO

Pairing :: OPLA!Sanji x fem!Reader

Warnings :: 18+ Content, NSFW/SMUT, Semi-Exhibitionist(under the table deal), Light Fingering, Sex

Word Count :: 3,469

Summary :: Sanji is finally reunited with you

A/N :: A more perverted pathetic Sanji because GODDAMN. That is all and I am sorry if this feels a bit rushed- Thank you all for your support!

“Sanji?” You asked quietly, almost afraid that if you spoke louder, you’d be waking up from some sort of hyper-realistic dream.

His stunned expression quickly shifted into a joyous smile. He ran up to you, scooping you up in his arms and twirling the two of you in the air.

“(Y/N)! I missed you so much!" He cried out. "Your beautiful voice! Your perfect smile! The way your nose scrunches up when I say something annoying! I've missed it all!" He put you down but kept his hands on your arms. "Especially the way your boo-"

WHAMP! A wooden staff came slamming down on his head, nearly knocking him to the ground.

"Sanji, how many times have Robin and I told you to quit going around harassing women!" A redhead lady showed up behind him, followed by a black-haired one and a green-haired man. She gave you an apologetic smile as the man stepped forward to pick Sanji up. "I'm sorry about him, miss. He's a flirt and can get carried away when he sees a pretty lady sometimes."

You laughed awkwardly, cheeks flaring up due to memories from the past. "Oh trust me, I know how heart-eyed he can get."

The women each raised their brows, surprised by your comment. The man didn't seem to care, instead being preoccupied by holding Sanji back. He was holding him with one arm and covering his mouth with the other, his voice being muffled by his friend. Sanji was clearly upset; he couldn't explain that you weren't a random stranger he decided to hit on.

"Do you know each other?" The dark-haired woman asked.

You nodded, eyes moving past them and over to the blond. "We know each other quite well actually. I guess you could call us special friends."

The man released him. He walked back up to you, muttering under his breath about how the green man smelled.

His mood seemed to pick up once his focus was back on you. He reached a hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, the tips of his fingers grazing past your cheeks. He didn't pull his hand away after resting it on your shoulder. He couldn't say it at the moment with his friends around, but he missed how you felt in his hold.

"How are you, darling?" He asked in his usual charming voice.

You smiled warmly up at him. “Happy to see you’ve made yourself some new friends.”

“They’re my crewmates. Don’t get too scared now, but,” He leaned down close to your ear, “I’m a pirate.”

His hot breath hitting your ear sent a familiar tingle down your spine and your fading blush intensified.

He backed away, quickly introducing you to the three before you, all the while rubbing a small circle into your shoulder with his thumb. Nami, the redhead, was their navigator, Robin, the tallest, was their archeologist, and Zoro, the greenhead, was their first mate. Sanji, naturally, was the crew’s cook. They had ported into town for a quick stay, leaving the day after tomorrow.

“So, do you think I could stay at your place tonight?” The question was so sudden, you almost didn’t know how to answer in front of his friends.

“Oh, erm, I wouldn’t mind it. I’ll need to get a few more ingredients then to make sure I have enough for both of us,” You mumbled, attention finally returning to the vegetables you had come to purchase.

“Sanji, it’s rude to suddenly ask someone if you can stay with them, especially if you didn’t give them a heads-up in advance,” Nami scolded.

“I don’t mind!” You were quick to defend him. “It’s no trouble at all, especially since we have so much to catch up on. In fact, I wouldn’t mind having you three over for dinner as well.”

“Really?” All four of the pirates asked in sync.

Sanji seemed to be a bit annoyed, while the other three were genuinely surprised by your hospitality. You reassured the lot that it was fine, especially since you could easily get all the extra ingredients you needed since you were already in the market. Zoro was the only one to decline the offer and instead offered to break the news to their captain that Sanji wouldn’t be cooking dinner for them tonight, so they'd have to find someplace to grab grub.

On the walk back to your home with Sanji and the other ladies, you started a small conversation with Robin and Nami.

“So, (Y/N), what do you do for work?” Robin asked.

“I work for Greylock Trading, a merchant company.”

“I’ve heard of Greylock Trading when I was a kid,” Nami said. “They used to come by my hometown to buy tangerines.”

You nodded. “That was in the early days. Greylock started with basic produce eventually moving up to luxury goods like fine silks or rare paints.”

“You must get to see a lot of interesting places working for such an impressive merchant.”

“I did.” Your smile fell a bit at Robin’s comment. “Long story short, a few years ago, Greylock fell ill and the captain of his ship retired so he could take care of him. Ever since, we’ve downsized considerably and just work from here.”

You could feel Sanji’s hand squeeze yours. “Is that why you never came back to Baratie?”

“Yes. Greylock asked me to stay and help him restructure the business. He and Captain Tommy are father figures to me, so it was near impossible for me to decline, despite how much it saddened me to stop traveling. Now that everything’s settled with the business though I’ve found myself feeling a bit melancholy as of late.”

Greylock and Captain Tommy had tried to convince you to join a different crew so you could travel once more, but you refused. You didn’t want to leave them behind to join a brand new crew full of strangers. It didn’t feel right to you.

“All she ever talked about when we were together was traveling and all the different places she had been to and all the different places she was excited to see,” Sanji explained to his friends. Quickly, he then whispered to you, “At least, that’s when you weren’t a babbling mess.”

You quickly hit his shoulder, embarrassed that he’d make such a comment in front of others.

His teasing behavior didn’t end there.

When you got back to your place, he helped you in the kitchen while the girls made themselves comfortable in your living room. Your kitchen was small, but one would think it was cramped with how Sanji was acting. Whenever you were trying to grab something from one of the cabinets, he’d come up from behind you conveniently also needing to grab something. His body would push against yours, trapping you against the counter with one hand fondling your breast. A scheme so he could grind against your ass for a moment.

When you were chopping up some lettuce, he came up from behind you and placed his hands on top of yours to help you “properly” chop the lettuce. He would lower his head down to your neck, claiming it was easier for him to see if he rested his head there. A ploy so he could kiss your neck.

It didn’t end in the kitchen.

Once dinner was served, you sat next to Sanji and Robin sat with Nami opposite you two. The three of them started to enthrall you with tales of their adventures on the sea, making you a bit envious of their wayfaring.

You didn’t have much time to feel sorry for yourself though, as midway through dinner, Sanji’s hand fell under the table and began petting up and down your thigh. At first, you decided to act normal and ignore it. You two were at a table in front of his friends, there’s no way he would be dumb-

“Hmph-!” Your body tensed, feeling his hand slide up your skirt and in between your thighs.

You clamped your thighs together hoping to halt him in his tracks. Your head snapped to him, but he remained unfazed, acting as if nothing had happened.

Unfortunately for you, he was able to wriggle his hand just enough to get closer to your panties. He pushed his finger against you, pushing your underwear to the side to stroke your growing wet folds. After that, he stuck one long finger in, pumping slowly with just one finger.

You gulped, biting the inside of your bottom lip, hoping to stay silent. You’d be mortified if Robin and Nami found out what you two were doing right now.

Sanji didn’t do much else after he started fingering you. He continued that slow pumping pace, not doing too much so you could act normal and giving you just enough to be excited for when dinner ended. He only pulled because you started to clean up the table while they were still around.

Eventually, it was time for you to say goodbye to your two guests.

“It was nice meeting you, (Y/N).”

“Same here, Robin. I’m glad you two enjoyed the meal.”

“It was delicious, thank you so much for having us.”

“And if Sanji gives you any trouble, just come and find us. We know how he can get.”

You chuckled, walking the two towards the door. “No worries, Nami. I know how to deal with him too. Have a nice night!”

“Bye!”

Almost the second the door shut and you two were alone, Sanji shoved his tongue in your mouth and wrapped his arms around you. His hands roamed your body, jumping from caressing your thighs to your ass to your breasts. He was so needy.

You struggled to keep up with his pace, but you couldn't break away. He was refusing to let you go. His kiss was so messy and rough, that you were sure your lips would be puffy by the time he pulled away.

His hand that was fondling your breast pulled away, hurriedly working on removing your blouse, something he had to stop the kiss for. Your head was dizzy with how he had rushed you, you almost didn't pick up on how eager he was to see your bare chest. His eyes lit up once your bra was removed.

"God, I've missed your boobs."

He reached down past your skirt to grab onto the back of your thighs and they hooked around him instinctually. He carried you over to the table you two had just been having dinner at and placed you down. His face fell straight into your chest, kissing and nipping your flesh. His hands latched onto your nipples to start pinching and rolling the buds in his fingers.

His crotch was directly against yours, allowing you to feel his erection growing. You started to move your hips against his, remembering the tingling pleasure he always gave you. He was eager as well, as he started to grind into you.

"Sanji," You moaned softly, hand reaching out to tug his hair.

He groaned at the action, and the speed of his hips picked up creating more friction. He removed a hand from your breast, reaching around to squeeze your ass and pull your body closer to his.

You were about to beg him to start fucking you, needing more than this to push you to cum, until you noticed the expression on his face. His eyes were tightly shut and he was biting his bottom lip. He was desperate to cum, now.

You had never seen him so worked up before, it turned you on, even more, to know he was being like this for you. If there wasn't a wet patch on his pants before due to your soaked panties, there certainly was one now.

"Fuuuck," He said, a mix between a whine and a moan.

So entranced by the sight before you, you decided to let him finish like this, already coming up with a plan for the aftermath. A bit of revenge for how he acted during the meal if you will.

His speed was getting faster, and his hold on your ass and tit tighter. "I just- I need-" He was struggling with his words, clearly lost in his head.

"Are you close to cumming for me, Sanji?" You asked in a teasing tone.

He completely froze, his face turning red with embarrassment for the first time since you met him all those years ago.

"(Y-Y/N)- I didn't mean to-" He struggled, stammering out a sentence, but his words were silenced when you slid your hands down his pants and cupped his length in your hand.

You could feel him throbbing in your palm, he was so close that he was already twitching in your hand. "It's okay, Sanji. I'll let you finish, but then we play my way. Okay?"

You squeezed your hand around his dick at the end, earning a small shaky breath. After he quickly agreed, you pulled your hand out of his pants, allowing him to continue grinding on you.

You pushed your breasts together for him, to which he happily planted his face in between.

He bit down roughly on your right tit when he finally started to cum in his pants, his hips jerking against your wet clothed cunt. When his peak ended, he raised his head from your breasts, trying to steady his breathing.

You hopped off of the table, grabbed his hand, and led him to your bedroom. "You know, I always remember you making fun of me for being so needy all the time. I guess the tables have turned now, huh?"

"It's… it's been a while okay?"

"I can tell," You said while pushing him down on your bed.

You pulled down your underwear before lifting your skirt to reveal your exposed wet pussy before moving to straddle him. You worked on unclothing him, carefully undoing each button on his shirt while rolling your crotch against his. In no time, you could feel him hardening up again.

Once you got his shirt off, leaving on his tie, you repositioned yourself to sit right below the hem of his pants. You zipped his pants open and pulled them down, along with his underwear, springing free his messy cock. It was smeared in sperm from before, already lubed up when you wrapped a hand around it.

You scooted closer so you were able to bring his tip to your entrance. You moved it up and down your slick folds, humming at the feeling, already ready to be filled up. But you had to be strong, remembering how you wanted to get payback.

He jerked his hips in your hands. "Love, I'm begging you. You've already made me wait such a long time."

You put your hands on his chest, raising your hips so your entrance was right above him. "I said I was sorry." You began to move your wet cunt against his length, not allowing the sweet tightness he desired. "Don't you forgive me, Sanji?"

He let out a shaky moan, feeling your slick folds slide up and down his length. His tip was so close to entering each time you went up his dick, only for you to slowly slide back down.

His hands went up to cup your face, thumbs tracing against your cheeks. He pressed a long deep kiss onto you. It was so unlike the kiss from before, with there being a slow passion to it, he was able to distract you.

You gasped into the kiss, feeling him push his cock into you. He pulled away with a devilish smirk, continuing to push until he was all the way in you. You started to whimper, it had been such a long time since anyone filled you up.

"I do, darling. And that's why I'm so happy you're not going to get upset with me for breaking our little agreement." He pulled out a bit before thrusting up into you, earning a moan.

He wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you closer to him so your chest was flush against his. He continued to thrust into you. He had quickly developed a pattern, he did a few shallow thrusts, not pulling out very much, before pulling out nearly all the way, leaving only his tip in you, then rammed himself back in only to repeat the process.

Each time he pulled out more, he hit hard, and with each thrust your moaning got louder and louder. His moaning grew in volume as well, as your walls tightened with each deep thrust.

This feeling was getting him close, along with watching you on top of him. Since you were flat against him, he could feel your breasts bouncing up and down on him with the thrusts. His favorite part about this though, was that your face was clear for him to see. Your half-lidded eyes, the small 'o' shape your mouth was in got bigger each time you moaned loudly.

Eventually, your entire body tightened and you began to spasm. Your walls clenched, finally hitting your high. Sanji wasn’t far behind, as seconds after you came you could feel his cock twitching inside of you and hot spurts of cum poured into you.

“I hope you don’t have plans tomorrow,” Sanji breathed out.

“Why?” You asked in between pants.

“Because,” He pulled out of you, beginning to reposition you two, “I don’t plan on stopping until you’re exhausted.”

Your palms fell flat against your bed as you found yourself on all fours now. His hands went down to hold your ass, his now hard again dick ramming into you from behind. He was much rougher this time with his thrusting, and his hold on you was tight so you couldn’t pull away.

At this faster pace of his, it didn’t take long until your arms gave out and your top half fell against the bed. You bounced your ass in the air with him, hoping he’d hit deeper with each thrust. So fixated on cumming again, you didn’t notice how his grip had loosened and that he had slowed down again.

“There’s my good girl,” He moaned. “So desperate to cum around my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered open, feeling a pair of arms wrapped around you along with a leg thrown over yours. Your vision began to clear and you saw a blond sleeping in your bed. The events of the night before began to play in your head, reminding yourself why your body was so sore.

“Hm… I guess you were telling the truth when you said I’d pass out.”

“Of course I was. I’d never lie to you, love,” His eyes opened.

You narrowed your eyes. “How long have you been up?”

He shrugged. “A while.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because I made you do a lot last night. Plus, I enjoyed how peaceful you looked when you were asleep. I was trying to save it in my memory in case…” His voice trailed off, afraid to finish his sentence.

“In case what?”

“In case… you said no to being a pirate with me.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He sat up, and you followed. “I want you to join the Straw Hat Pirates. It’s a really friendly crew, aside from Zoro. Everyone’s nice, aside from Zoro. You’ve already met three of them, and got along great with them, aside from Zoro, but he’s just a grump. And I’m sure Luffy would be fine with it.”

“Who’s Luffy again?”

“He’s the captain. He’s a good kid, and he could use a negotiator.”

You fell silent, contemplating his offer for a bit longer than he’d like.

“Alright, I’ll join.”

Sanji continued to plead with you to join, having not fully processed your answer. “Please, (Y/N). You’ll get to travel again, and sure, we’ll have to deal with occasional bad- Excuse me?”

“I said, I’ll join. I’ve already helped out Greylock and there’s not much left for me here anyway. What I want is to travel on the sea again, going to new distant lands with you.”

“(Y/N)...”

You grabbed his hand, smiling happily up at him, knowing you’d be starting a brand new chapter in your life. Unlike all the other ship crews that had offered you a spot amongst them, you didn’t feel like you would fit in. Joining The Straw Hats felt right somehow, especially since someone you were close with was already a part of the crew.

The sweet moment you two shared ended shortly, as in your peripheral line of sight, you saw a tent rising in the sheets.

“Really?” You asked, throwing the blanket up to expose his erection.

“You’re just so cute when you’re sincere!”

Tags:

@misfits1a, @nuhteyam, @violet-19999, @idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames, @chaixsherlock, @notazul, @simpforseungkwan, @shadowwolf1864, @quixscentsposts

#sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader #opla!sanji smut #opla!sanji fanfic #sanji smut #sanji fanfic #one piece sanji fanfic #one piece sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji smut #vinsmoke sanjie x reader #vinsmoke sanji fanfic

2K notes · View notes

fyorina · 3 months

Text

ᡣ𐭩 IN PAPER RINGS AND PICTURE FRAMES!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai has never been a true believer of murphy’s law, not until today at least. he swears the world is out to get him, all he wanted was to give you a nice valentine’s day... and maybe something a little extra special. (wordcount: 6.7k; sfw; very brief mentions of dazai's attempts, fem!reader)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: valentine's day fic for my sweetest boy

“What do you mean I can’t have the day off?” Dazai cries out, staring down at his phone in abject horror. A pillow is flung at his head and Dazai sputters out an apology to you before lifting his phone back to his ear, making a point to lower his voice as he says, “Kunikida-kun, it’s Valentine’s Day. Not even you can be this heartless.”

“Dazai!” Kunikida says, voice stern and sharp, and Dazai knows that the man is serious because he’s not spitting out insults about Dazai’s laziness and lack of drive to do anything but lounge around and avoid work. “Trust me. It brings me no joy to make you come in today—not for your sake, but for her’s. But we have to finish up the final preparations for Tanizaki and Atsushi’s upcoming mission before they leave for Kyoto tomorrow morning. Get to the office now.”

“Kunikida-kun,” Dazai complains, feeling a bit more panicked, “but I-”

“Maybe if you had actually done your work the past few days, I could’ve covered for you,” Kunikida spits out angrily. “But we have double the workload to finish by tonight because you’ve been slacking off the past week. Anyway, you shouldn’t be calling the day of asking for a day off. Be to the office asap.”

Kunikida doesn’t even wait for Dazai’s response, hanging up the phone and leaving Dazai standing in your apartment staring at his phone with parted lips and wide eyes, unable to comprehend what just happened. A noise escapes his lips, something caught between a scoff and a whimper, and Dazai thinks he might cry. He feels like a wounded puppy as he turns his attention over to where you’re still curled up in bed, eyes barely cracked open as you watch him with furrowed brows.

“Bella…” he pouts, making his way over to you so he can sit next to you on the bed. “They’re making me go into the office.”

You only roll toward him, eyes heavy with sleep, barely able to hold them open, and Dazai’s chest feels tight and warm with a lovely feeling that he’s only ever experienced with you. He reaches out to cup your cheek, fingertips grazing your skin—your lashes flutter as your eyes droop back shut, and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of someone seeking out his touch, trusting his hands as if they aren’t rotted and blood-stained.

“Then go,” you say with a yawn, leaning into his touch and pulling the dark comforter back up around your shoulders from where it had slipped down your body.

Dazai pushes his lip out even more. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I wanted to spend the day with you. You took off today too.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him and Dazai wants to tell you that it is decidedly not okay but he can’t tell you that because you’ll ask why and he can’t tell you without ruining everything. “I’m tired anyway. Someone decided to keep me up half the night.”

Dazai can hardly even muster the vulgar smile and dirty joke that should have come to him with ease, and evidently, that’s proof enough to you that something must be seriously wrong because you crack your eyes back open and peer up at him, concern slowly eclipsing the tiredness. Another thing he’ll never be used to: having someone genuinely worry over him even over the smallest things.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him softly, yawning again as you reach up to run your fingers through his hair. The comforter slides down from around your shoulders again, revealing the smooth skin of your bare shoulders and collarbone, and Dazai wishes for nothing more than to slip beneath the sheets with you, wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your chest.

Instead, he lets himself lean into your touch for a moment, eyes falling shut as he basks in the feeling of your fingers carding through his dark locks, nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he could stay in this moment forever, but alas, the serenity is utterly shattered when his phone starts buzzing again.

Dazai lets out a heavy exhale, dark eyes dragging from you to where his phone is laying on the bed next to him, seeing Atsushi’s name flash on the screen—surely having been told by Kunikida to follow up and make sure that Dazai is actually going to show up at the office.

“I just wanted to spend the day with you,” he says, a bit of a white lie, but he can’t tell you the real reason why he’s so disappointed. “He’s had it out for me ever since we got together. He’s jealous. This is his way of getting one over me.”

You smile lightly at him, pulling his face down a bit so that you can press your lips against his. Dazai sighs into your mouth, eyes sliding shut again as he kisses you, hand coming up again to cup your cheek as his lips move against yours. The kiss is slow and intimate, but far too short for his liking. You pull your lips away from his and Dazai gives you a wounded look when he tries to chase your lips only for you to dodge with a giggle.

“Go, Osamu,” you tell him and Dazai lets out a groan, letting his head drop to your chest. You toy with his hair and Dazai wants to tell you that doing that is only going to make him want to stay even more but he also doesn’t want you to stop so he decides against it. “The faster you get there and get your work done, the quicker you can come home.”

Home. Another word he might never get used to, his chest feels warm and fluttery as he tilts his head to the side so he can peer up at you. “Or I can just not go in at all and deal with Kunikida’s righteous fury tomorrow.”

“No,” you say firmly, tugging at his ear and making him yelp. “Go, Osamu. Don’t be ridiculous. Let me sleep.”

Dazai sighs, rising to his feet and letting you curl back beneath the covers. He wants to tell you that it’s not that simple and that he has a whole plan and he needs to follow it strictly otherwise he’s scared that everything will go wrong, but there’s no way of explaining that to you without having to tell you why which would ruin everything. Lamenting to himself, he shrugs his coat onto his shoulders and leans down to press his lips between your brows as you start to doze off again, brushing your hair behind your ear and letting his eyes linger on your face, skin glowing gently beneath the early morning sun.

It takes all of his willpower to step away from you and make his way out of your apartment, the ring in his pocket weighing more heavily with every step he takes.

•••

Dazai is really trying his best not to let his frustration spoil the night. The sun has already long set. What should have been a short day at the office finishing up paperwork ended up with him working overtime because of an emergency mission on the far side of the city concerning an ability user who could mimic appearances. Everybody else is still at the office trying to finish up preparations for Tanizaki and Atsushi’s upcoming mission in Kyoto but the President had taken one look at Dazai’s abysmal expression and told him to go home and be with you.

And Dazai should appreciate that, honestly, otherwise he’d be stuck at the office until god knows when, leaving you at home alone all day and all night on the one day he was planning to spend the whole day with you, but he’s so bitter that he can’t even summon the appreciation he should feel. You’re taking it in stride, of course, telling him that it’s okay and you’re not mad even though Dazai insists that you definitely should be. He called you while on the train with Kunikida, curled up in a seat pouting as he shot his partner dirty looks and mourned his shitty luck because of course this would happen on the day he was planning to make the biggest decision of his life, and yours.

Not that he could tell you that part, obviously.

Kunikida had been rightfully guilty, apologizing to Dazai for the day taking as long as it did and continuously shooting him ashamed looks, but Dazai couldn’t even bask in the knowledge that Kunikida is actually apologizing to him for making him work because he’s so frustrated about how the day has gone compared to what he had planned.

It’s still salvageable, he reminds himself, glancing down at his phone. The reservations he placed for the restaurant aren’t for another hour and a half. He has plenty of time to walk back to your apartment and change so he can take you out for the night, and the thought of taking you out for the night makes all of the frustration he’s feeling absolutely disappear, entirely overshadowed by the giddiness tingling through his limbs and the nerves that tighten his chest.

Tonight.

He twists his hands in front of his body, eyes catching on a convenience store at the corner of the block, a wide range of chocolates and flowers on display at the main window. With only a moment’s hesitation, he speeds up his pace, flinging open the door to the convenience store and beelining right to the dwindling Valentine’s Day display, weathered down by other frantic partners who were late to get their beloved gifts.

He lets out a relieved puff of air when he sees that your favorite flowers and chocolates are still available, although he’s a bit irate because the flowers aren’t as healthy as they should be, but he supposes it’s his own fault. Of course they're not going to be in perfect shape after being on display all day—if he wanted perfect flowers, he should’ve bought and brought them to you first thing in the morning.

Which he could have done if it weren’t for Kunikida, he thinks bitterly, deciding to place all of the blame on his coworker instead.

He drops the flowers and chocolates at the cash register, where an older man is working, and Dazai pulls out his wallet, flipping through to grab a few yen and place them on the counter.

The older man lets out a bit of a chuckle as he scans the chocolates and the flowers. “You’re a bit late, aren’t you, boy?” he notes. “Can’t have a happy lady at home, I know mine is angry as a bull. Hope you have more than this to appease the girl.”

Dazai winces and then mutters, “She’s not angry, I got pulled into work. She understands.”

It sounds pathetic even to his own ears. The man finds it amusing, evidently, from how he has to smother another laugh as he gets Dazai his change.

“Mine said she was fine with it too,” he says, “but I know I’m coming home to the cold shoulder. They never say what they mean, son.”

Dazai’s mood falters again, the giddiness and nerves slipping away into something colder because he’s feared since he left this morning that you would be bitter over him having to go into work today. And he knows deep down that you’re not like that, that if you say it’s fine, it really is fine most of the time, but a part of him can’t help but wonder if you’re only saying it because you don’t want to stress him out even more, because he’d made it abundantly clear this morning that he wasn’t happy.

“There you go,” the older man passes over his change and the flowers and chocolates. “Good luck.”

Dazai can barely even bring himself to give the man a proper thank you, making his way back out of the convenience stores with the flowers and chocolates in hand. His eyes flicker down to his phone again, catching the time before he continues down the street—the pit stop had only taken a few minutes, but Dazai is doubly anxious to get back home to you now. Not just because he’s worried that you’re not quite as okay with it as you’ve made yourself out to be, but also because he misses you and just wants to get back home to you, this day has been too long and it’s been especially hellish and jarring because he woke up this morning thinking he’d get to spend the entire day with you.

He’s ready to get home to you. He’s ready to take you out to dinner. He’s ready to take you down to the gardens and he’s ready to-

God, he’s ready to propose. After all of these damn years, he’s finally ready and he will not let a shitty day at work ruin that for him. He still has the whole night, and that’s what’s important because…

He stares at his hand, where a droplet of water had splashed against his skin. A dreadful feeling arises, dark and slithering as it spreads through him. He turns his gaze up to the dark sky—dark because the sun has set, yes, but he realizes now, with a pit in his gut, that it’s also because storm clouds seem to be gathering above the city. He hadn’t even noticed them in his pitiful spiral, nor had he noticed the way the wind had picked up.

He hardly has time to react before the rain comes down. Hard. Torrential. He stands on the sidewalk, too riddled with shock and disbelief to even move for cover. He stares ahead, wondering just how much more terrible this day can get. He’s never been a believer of Murphy’s Law or any of those other dubious, paranoia-induced “laws of nature,” but he’s severely starting to question his standing on it because of all days, of course it’s today where it seems that the entire universe must be against him.

He stares at the drenched flowers he had just bought you, crumpled and ruined from the force of the rain—he can’t even bring himself to feel frustrated, if anything he’s starting to feel a bit numb with exhaustion, half-certain that there’s a god up there sabotaging him. He tosses the flowers in a nearby garbage can along with the soggy box of chocolates in his other hand, and almost robotically, he makes his way to stand under an overhang, pulling out his phone to call you.

You pick up after the first ring, you always do.

“Osamu?”

“Can you pick me up?” Dazai asks, voice hoarse and empty.

“... Of course. Where are you?”

•••

The car ride has been damningly silent and Dazai feels bad because you’ve tried to make conversation with him but he can’t bring himself to speak. You’ve given up by now though, resorting to just focusing on the road, occasionally sparing him concerned glances. His head is starting to hurt and he fears that if he says something his voice might crack, so instead he just leans his head against the passenger seat window, letting the cool glass spread through his brain and ease the pain as you intertwine your fingers with his.

“We’re never going to make the reservation,” Dazai finally decides to speak up, voice sounding cold and distant even to his own ears. He nearly flinches—he would’ve preferred it to crack than sound so frigid and aloof.

The rain pouring down is torrential, lightning webbing across the dark sky and wind howling outside. Already, there’s been road closures, the twenty minute drive from the Agency to your apartment has taken twice as long as it usually takes and you’re still stuck in bumper to bumper traffic trying to take the long way around to the complex. The reservation is set for forty minutes from now, and it’ll take nearly as long to get to your apartment at this rate, and then Dazai still has to dry off and change from work, and then you have to drive to the restaurant which would've taken another twenty minutes without traffic.

Not that it matters anyway, the storm has already destroyed his plans for after dinner, which was the whole point of the dinner anyway, but still, he would have at least liked to bring you to a nice dinner for Valentine’s Day.

He wonders if this is all meant to be a sign, and the thought makes his chest ache because of course when he finally thinks he’s ready to take the next step in his relationship with you—one that he knows you’ve been waiting patiently for four years now but his own hangups about himself have stopped him from ever doing anything about it—this happens. And you’ve never pressured him about it, you’ve never even brought it up to him because you know the topic makes him uncomfortable, but he’s seen the way you look at all of the happily married couples who come into the cafe when you meet him there for his lunch break and he’s seen the way you sometimes glance down at your own empty finger and Dazai thinks he’s ready.

Against all odds, he thinks he’s ready—he bought you a ring, he planned out the whole proposal. Anxiety has been eating him alive all week as the days led up to this and now that the day is here, everything just goes wrong. He was going to bring you to the aquarium, because he knows you love to watch the dolphins and the penguins but that was ruined because of work. He was going to take you out to dinner at Le Normandie in Naka, because he’d seen you looking at the menu all longingly a few weeks ago, but that was ruined because of the road closures and traffic. And then he was going to bring you down into Yamashita Park, over to the flower gardens where there was supposed to be a band playing, because they always do on Valentine’s Day, and he wrote up everything, a long and flowery speech about how you’ve shown him what it’s like to really live, what it’s like to be human, but that was ruined by the storm.

All the preparations he made, all of the plans he had, all of it gone to ruin. Just like that.

And now he’s doubting how ready he actually is.

He really does wonder if this is a sign, a warning, even—higher powers telling him not to condemn you to a life with him because what sort of sane person would want a future with someone who’s spent most of his life trying to kill himself? Dazai has more issues than he’s worth and he’s still half-convinced that you don’t know what you’re getting into even though you’ve been with him for four years and have seen some of his most egregious lows. You’ve had to cut him down from the noose, fight him for the blade he held against his skin, and Dazai doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to fully free himself of the dark thoughts tearing apart his brain.

And you deserve better than a future with someone who’s fickle about living and unable to effectively combat the dark thoughts that plague his mind. This is the world’s attempt at reminding him of that before he makes a mistake.

You draw him from his spiraling thoughts as you squeeze his hand gently, lifting his hand to press your lips against his knuckles and Dazai feels even worse because why are you comforting him when he’s the one who ruined your Valentine’s Day.

“Let’s order takeout then,” you say easily, giving him a warm smile that should have made him feel more at ease but instead it only makes him feel worse because you shouldn’t have to settle for takeout on Valentine’s Day, especially when he planned such a nice day out. “I’m craving pizza. We can curl up on the couch and watch a movie instead.”

Dazai is unconvinced.

“Don’t give me that look,” you complain, but you’re still smiling and Dazai is finding it hard to keep up his sullen attitude with you looking at him like that. “There’s a new horror movie I wanted to watch, it’s available for streaming now.”

“This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go,” Dazai murmurs, finally intertwining his fingers with yours, rubbing a circle with his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Let’s make the most of it anyway,” you tell him, giving him another radiant smile, and Dazai feels a bit like a fool—he’s never listened to the warnings from higher powers before, so why the hell should he now? When you give him another reassuring squeeze as you rest your joined hands back down on the console, turning your attention back onto the road, his chests lighten and the creeping doubts start to trickle away.

He thinks that maybe, just maybe, it’ll all work out anyway.

•••

It takes less than an hour for his slim hopes to be crushed yet again.

Dazai stares at the food in front of him, too numb to even think to go chase after the delivery driver and tell him that he got the order wrong. You’re standing somewhere to the side, looking even more concerned—not because of the food, because of him, and Dazai knows that he should reassure you and tell you that everything is fine but he can’t even muster the strength to speak the words.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, reaching out to grab his hand. He doesn’t even intertwine his fingers with yours, but you’re undeterred, clutching his hand tightly, and he knows he’s being unfair to you but he just doesn’t even know what else to do. “Osamu, it’s fine, really. It’s just some food.”

“You don’t even eat any of this food,” Dazai says, voice tight and more than a bit frustrated. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take, the morning had started off so nice waking up to you fast asleep on his chest and every passing second since then has just gone further and further downhill. “Not one thing has gone right today, and they can’t even get one order done correctly. It’s not fine, I-”

Dazai’s eyes flutter shut when you reach up to cup his cheeks between your hands, squishing his face gently before leaning in to press your lips against his. He sighs against your lips, the frustration slowly starting to dissipate as you rest your forehead against his, stealing one, two, three more kisses before finally pulling back a bit to speak.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him again, and Dazai thinks he should be the one reassuring you because it’s your Valentine’s Day that has been utterly ruined but he only relaxes into your touch, soaking up all of the comfort you offer him. “I have pizza bagels in the freezer, we can throw them in the oven. Honestly, I’ve been tempted to make them all day, anyway, but I wanted to wait for you. It’s not a big deal.”

“... Yeah?” Dazai asks quietly, and you give him that soft, soothing smile that always puts his nerves at ease. He lets out another puff of air, nodding. “Okay, I’ll put them in.”

He steals another kiss from you, and then another, and the tension in his shoulders finally begins to melt when he feels you giggling against his lips, shooing him away to go put the pizza bagels in the oven.

Just as the thought crosses his mind, that maybe the night is still salvageable, he reaches for the door to your freezer and as his fingers curl around the handle, the power goes out. Thunder shakes your apartment complex, lightning webs the sky outside, and the wind outside becomes even more treacherous. And with it, the ability to use the oven to make the pizza rolls you want disappears.

You don’t say anything. Neither does he. Dazai thinks it should be comical at this point but he can find no humor in it, his throat tight and clogged with a million unwelcome emotions. He swears there must be someone up in the heavens laughing at him, finding entertainment in his misfortune and misery, and maybe he deserves it for all of the sins he’s committed in the past but he wishes that they wouldn’t drag you into this.

He casts a miserable look in your direction, unsure if you even notice because you’re already at work trying to fumble to light a few candles, and Dazai is so tired that he thinks he might die. All he had wanted was to take you on a nice day out, ending the night with dinner and a stroll through the gardens at Yamashita before finally gathering the nerve to get down on one knee in front of you, showing you the ring he’d been so nervous buying and-

And then he pauses.

Where is the ring?

The thought dawns on him so damningly that he feels physically ill, realizing that he hadn’t felt the familiar weight in his pocket earlier when walking home from the Agency, nor had he noticed it when he slipped his jacket off and laid it on one of the kitchen chairs. He rushes over to where he had left his jacket, panic spreading through him so intensely that he can hardly think straight, ignoring how you call his name, worried.

His chest tightens, blood running cold as he fumbles through the pockets of his jacket trying to figure out which one he left it in only to realize that it’s not snugged safely in any of them. Dazai thinks he might throw up, wondering if it had fallen out when he took his jacket off at the office, or if it had fallen out while he was walking to work, or when he stopped at the convenience store and pulled out his wallet, or when he was walking home. If it was the latter three, the ring is gone and he’ll probably never see it again, and he probably should take that as a sign from god to not condemn you to a life with him.

“Osamu?” you ask, voice soft and cautious as you make your way over to him, obviously sensing his distress.

Dazai wants to cry. Or maybe he wants to laugh. He can’t tell. He leans his elbows onto the counter, hiding his face in his hands, and then he decides to laugh, or maybe he’s crying, he’s not sure honestly, but his shoulders are shaking and you’re wrapping your arms around his waist. Dazai wants to melt into you and he wants to tell you just how abysmally terrible this day has been but he can’t without telling you what he had planned and that only makes him more miserable.

You coax his face out from where it’s hiding against his hands as you stroke his hair, pressing your lips to his shoulder, and then his temple, and as soon as he turns his face to you, you’re cupping his cheeks in your hands, thumbs wiping away the wetness streaming down his cheeks, and he realizes distantly that he must’ve been crying. God, when was the last time he cried before this? He doesn’t even remember.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, keeping your voice soft as if to not startle him.

He doesn’t want to answer, so he doesn’t. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face into the crook of your neck, hiding himself from view again. As always, you take it in stride, wrapping your arms around him, one hand coming up to cup the back of his head and hold him close, lips pressing against the top of his hair. And Dazai is still so frustrated—he’s so frustrated and upset with himself and upset with the world, but as soon as he’s wrapped tight in your arms, it becomes increasingly hard to remain focused on all of the negative thoughts.

“I’m so tired,” is all he can say, voice hoarse and cracking, blunt nails digging crescents into your back as he clings to you desperately.

Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. He’s so tired. He just wanted this to be a nice day, and he wanted to finally push himself into giving himself to you entirely, because it’s what he wants. It’s what he wanted. He wanted to be yours and he wanted you to be his. Officially. But if the world really is trying to warn him against it, he’s thinking that maybe he should heed its warnings for once—for your sake, because he’s sure that anyone tied to him must be cursed.

“Let’s go lay down,” you tell him softly, carding your fingers through his hair gently. The motion is so soothing that it nearly makes his eyes droop shut, exhaustion seeping deep through his bones. “Os-”

There’s a harsh knock at your door.

Dazai’s eyes slide shut again, frustration coming back tenfold because he can’t even have a single moment with you without it going horribly wrong. You sigh as you break yourself free from him and Dazai longs to be back in your arms instantly, the weight of the day bearing down on him twice as heavily without you there to share the burden with him.

“I’ll go get the door,” you tell him, leaning up on your toes to press your lips to the corner of his. “Go lay down, I’ll join you in a second.”

“No,” Dazai says, capturing your lips in a real kiss briefly before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll get the door. You go change into your pajamas.”

“You sure?” you ask him, concern clear in your eyes as you look up at him.

Dazai only nods, pressing his lips to your forehead before ushering you off into the bedroom. You cast him one more worried look but Dazai shoos you away pointedly before making his way over to the door, frowning a bit because who the hell is showing up at your door this late? He thinks that if it’s the restaurant that sent the wrong food, then Dazai might just slam the door in the delivery man's face because the damage has already been done and Dazai is feeling petty.

But no. It’s not the delivery man standing outside your apartment with the right food this time. Rather, it’s an anxious looking Atsushi and a stressed Kunikida. Dazai’s eye twitches a bit—as if his day hadn’t been ruined enough with work, he swears to god that if they're about to bring even more to him on top of dragging him away from you all day, someone might die.

“Dazai-san,” Atsushi sounds absurdly relieved at the sight of the man but Dazai’s expression doesn’t budge, waiting for them to explain why they were interrupting his night with you. “We were just leaving work and-I wish I’d seen it sooner, I’m sorry-I would’ve come sooner but-I mean we tried to call and text but-”

Dazai has no idea what Atsushi is talking about, so he drags his eyes from the anxious boy up to Kunikida, waiting for a proper explanation. Kunikida’s lips twist when Dazai looks at him and Dazai thinks the man has no right to look at him that way after being the root cause of how awful his day.

Suddenly, Dazai catches sight of the familiar velvet box sitting in Kunikida’s hand, and he’s not sure what amalgamation of emotions rocks his body—fear, relief, apprehension—but he doesn’t like it, reaching out to snatch the box from Kunikida and cradle it to his chest, watching the two of them uneasily.

“You moron,” Kunikida snaps, careful to keep his voice low, but not low enough because horror shoots through Dazai when Kunikida continues with, “why didn’t you say you were-”

“Lower your voice,” Dazai says, panicking, casting a glance back toward where you’re still getting changed in the bedroom.

“Why didn’t you say you were proposing?” Kunikida finishes in a whisper, voice still a sharp hiss. “If you’d mentioned that I would’ve-”

Dazai feels flustered, and he does not want to answer and admit that he hadn’t thought it would make a difference. Luckily—or maybe unluckily, he concedes—he doesn’t have to answer because he hears you making your way out of the bedroom.

“Osamu?” you call curiously, “Is that Kunikida-kun and Atsushi-kun?”

Dazai’s eyes widen when he realizes that he has nowhere to hide the ring as you come around the corner from the hall. He promptly slams the door in both of his coworkers’ faces without even the sparest thank you, ignoring their surprised yelps as panic begins to spread through him, doing his best to hide his hands behind his back when he turns around to face you.

And then-

Then he hesitates.

The excuse on his lips about last minute mission briefing or Dazai having to sign off on a time-sensitive report dies when his eyes fall upon where you’re standing, dressed in your fuzzy pajamas with your arms wrapped around your waist and a confused expression painted on your face. The only lighting in the room is the few dim candles that you set up once the power went out, and the soft ambience casts an ethereal glow over your face. He thinks, not for the first time, that you might be heavenly, an angel sent to guide him on the path of good because how could he ever allow himself to fall back into his old, tainted habits without tarnishing you as well, and tarnishing you is simply unacceptable.

All of the doubts that have risen throughout the day wash away as he looks at you, and he wonders, briefly, how he could’ve ever had any doubts? Dazai, for all of his insecurity and fears of commitment, wants to spend the rest of his life with you. He does. He knows it so thoroughly that he can feel it in his bones; he doesn’t want anyone else, he doesn’t want to be alone, he wants you. He wants to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night, he wants to lounge around on the weekends because you’re both too lazy to get out of bed and do something productive, he wants to be there for your lows when you’re so overwhelmed with work that you can hardly think straight much less properly take care of yourself and god, against all odds, he wants you there for his too, when he feels like he’s being consumed by his own thoughts, spiraling down a dark and never-ending train that might not be as dark and never-ending with you there as a light to guide him out of it.

“Marry me,” he says, breathless, voice laced with desperation.

You stare at him, eyes wide. He stares back, frozen, unsure of what to do because this was not how this was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be extravagant, romantic, like you deserve, not some half-assed spur of the moment proposal. The words hang heavily in the air between the two of you, but he forces himself to push forward, too far in deep to back out now.

He fumbles as he tries to shift the velvet box into one hand to bring it in front of him and show you. He drops it. Of course he does. Everything else has gone wrong today so why not this too? But still, he pushes forward, kneeling down to scoop up the ring box and prop himself up on one knee in front of you, throat swollen and tight as he opens up the box to show you the ring inside of it. He’s holding it backwards. Of course he is. So he fixes it promptly, swiveling it around with trembling fingers, waiting anxiously for you to respond. Or even just react.

You haven’t budged from where you’re standing a few feet away.

What if you say no? God, the thought hadn’t even crossed his head but now his heart starts to sink from his chest down to his feet because you’re not moving and you’re not saying anything and he doesn’t know if you’re just processing his words or if you’re trying to figure out the best way to reject him.

He starts to fumble out words. “This was not how this was supposed to happen,” he admits, speaking so quickly that he can barely understand himself. “It was supposed to be a nice day, we were gonna go to the aquarium to see the dolphins and penguins, dinner at Le Normandie and then go down to the gardens at the park, and there was supposed to be a band and flowers and I had a whole speech ready and it definitely was not supposed to be like this but everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong, but I want to marry you and I don’t want to wait anymore, and I’m sorry that this is a shitty proposal, you deserve better than this. And I’m probably making it worse, I should have just waited for another day, but-”

But please say yes, he wants to say, but he can’t force the words out; he can only stare at you, expression more open and vulnerable than he thinks he’s been in his entire life. And he realizes, a bit horrified, that you could ruin him right now—he’s laid his heart out on a platter and it’ll only take one swift motion for you to crush it in hand and he thinks he’s terrified but-

All of the air is ripped from his lungs with a harsh oof. In an instant, his back is to the floor and you’re on top of him and Dazai is staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes, trying to figure out what exactly happened.

“You’re so stupid, Osamu,” you cry out and to Dazai’s horror, he realizes that you’re crying, hands propped up on his chest to brace yourself up, tears pooling in your eyes and streaming over your cheeks and dripping onto his own face. “Is this what you’ve been so upset about all day? I don’t need any of that, all I need is you.”

Oh. Dazai can’t breathe, and it’s not because you’re on top of him it’s because your words are processing and he’s realizing that-are you saying that-

“Of course, I’ll marry you, you idiot.”

He lets out a sharp exhale, a puff of air that he does not have in his lungs, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling—elation, relief, exhilaration, all of the above—but he does know that he’s never felt anything like it before and he doesn’t want it to go away. Ever. Dazai swears he sees a flash of a camera from the window, and he swears doubly that he hears Yosano let out a hoot of a cheer and Kunikida hushing her, dragging her away, but he can’t even bring himself to care.

Yeah, Dazai thinks to himself, eyes sliding shut as he rests his head back against the floor, the first genuine smile of the day tugging to the edge of his lips as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, clutching at his shirt, sniffling and hiccuping over each breath. He wraps an arm around your waist, using his free hand to slip the ring out of the box and slide it onto your finger. You cry harder. He kisses the top of your head, wondering how he could ever have any doubts or hesitations.

He could definitely spend the rest of his life like this.

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai fluff #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu fluff #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader

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countryclubkook · 2 months

Note

thinking of topper’s gf cheating on him with rafe🤭

Favorite Secret

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, mentions of alcohol, violence, blood, creampie, unprotected sex, P in V, not proofread

Summary: Your secret affair with Rafe almost goes terribly wrong when Topper decides to call in the middle of a hookup…almost

A/N: omg hii!! it’s been so so long since i’ve been on this account but I got a new job and a boyfriend🤭 life has been very very busy the last like year or so but I got the urge to write for my fav boy so I hope you guys enjoy this quick little fic🤍 and I hope all of you are well!

“Fuck Rafe, feels so good oh my god” you cried out, arching your back as your eyes rolled back when his cock hit the perfect spot inside of you. It was fucked up, screwing around with your boyfriends best friend, especially when Topper treated you so well. He bought you everything you asked for, took you on nice dates, held the door open, complimented you. Never did anything to hurt you…until that night, until that one party changed everything.

“Ugh come on Top, i’m begging you to just come for like 10 minutes. If you still don’t want to be there after that we can leave and just come back here, watch movies or something” you’d been begging for the last hour, it was the biggest party of the year and his best friend was hosting but he said he was too tired to go. You knew it was actually just because there had been whispers on the island that Sarah planned to crash it with John B and their new pogue friends.

As much as he swore to you he was over it, you know that wasn’t true and you were fine with it. You trusted him, after all you were the one there for him when she broke his heart the first time, having to be the one to pick up the pieces every single time he gave her chance after chance, you knew what it’d done to him and his trust. Having to risk seeing her there with the guy she cheated on him with didn’t exactly sound like such a fun time.

“Listen I love you, but I really would just rather stay in tonight okay babe? There will be many more parties that we can go to in the future” he said, giving you a soft smile and cupping your cheek with his hand. He could see the disappointment on your face and felt bad, you were obviously excited about this and here he was shutting it down over rumors.

“Okay, whatever you want to do” you let out a defeated sigh and nuzzled your cheek closer into his palm, not wanting to argue over something like this. It just wasn’t worth it and you did enjoy nights in with just the two of you, plus he was right, there would be another party by next weekend.

“Damn it” he muttered under his breath before shaking his head slightly, “Okay okay, 10 minutes and that’s it, deal?” he barely got out the last word before you were squealing and throwing your arms around his neck He wrapped his arms around your waist and let out a small laugh, the smile on your face lighting up the whole room.

“Thank you thank you thank you! We’re going to have so much fun okay? You’re not going to want to leave by the time those 10 minutes are up, this is going to be the best night ever” famous. last. words.

Everything was great, the two of you were having the time of your life. Drinking and dancing together, talking with Rafe and a few of your other friends, then you slipped away for five minutes to use the bathroom, 5 minutes. Who knew so much could go wrong in just 5 minutes.

You walked out to see a crowd forming around two people and heard shouting, you’d expected to walk over and see two guys fighting like usual. Both of them far too drunk to even make contact with the other, but instead you saw your boyfriend on top of John B, his fist connecting to his cheek over and over and over again. You didn’t even like the kid but seeing blood and spit fly from his mouth and his gurgled wails of pain made you feel bad and you knew you needed to stop it.

You saw Rafe standing nearby watching, small smirk on his face as his eyes darted from the two boys to his sister begging Topper to stop while she sobbed. You walked up to him and touched his arm to bring his attention to you.

“Y/N! What’s up?” he said it so nonchalantly, like the scene in front of you wasn’t even happening. You knew he hates the pogues, hell you know he’d let John B die right then and there and feel no remorse, but he was the only one you knew had even the slightest chance of stopping it.

“Rafe you have to make them stop, it’s over okay? If you guys wanted to teach them a lesson i think they’ve learned it so can you please make it stop?” you could see him thinking about it, his brows furrowing ever so slightly and eyes going from you to Topper and John B to Sarah and then back to you.

“Mmm, I don’t know Y/N/N…kind of feel like he deserves it don’t you? I mean my slut of a sister cheats on my best friend, your boyfriend, with that good for nothing pogue and then they have the nerve to show up here? To rub it in his face? Why should I stop them?” he cocked his head and gave you a smirk, leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around his red solo cup full of god knows what. You knew the only way to convince him was to use the one card you knew would work, the one you hated using against him in all the time you knew him.

“Because you don’t want your dad finding out about it. You’re not even supposed to be throwing parties here, what happens if a pogue ends up dead because of the party and Ward finds out? I couldn’t care less if he dies, i’m just trying to save your ass right now so please” you saw his jaw clench, watched his chest start rising and fall slowly, more heavily than before, and you knew it worked.

“Fuck! Fine, i’ll handle it” he yelled before throwing his cup on the ground and walking over to the two, by this point John B was barely conscious and it’s like Topper was in his own world. Rafe walked over and pulled him off by the collar of his shirt before ushering Sarah to attend to her boyfriend, screaming that the party was over and for everyone to get the fuck out.

People quickly dispersed, whispering to each other about what just happened, until it was just the three of you left at tannyhill. Top was still fuming, veins bulging out, sweat dripping down his forehead, chest rapidly heaving, knuckles bruised and bloody, a crazed look in his eyes. You tried to walk up to him to calm him down but it’s like he couldn’t even see you, he instead turned around and walked to his jeep before getting in and driving away, leaving you stranded.

“What the fuck?!” you screamed, standing at the bottom of the driveway watching the taillights disappear as they got further and further away.

You walked back up to the porch where Rafe was waiting, looking awkwardly at the ground unsure of what to say. What are you supposed to do in this situation other than offer them a ride…or in this case alcohol.

“I’m sorry Y/N, that was shitty of him. Give him some time to cool off and he’ll come back to his senses, if you uh, if you want you could just crash here. I would offer to drive you home but you know…” he said, making a brief gesture to himself “i’m kind of drunk so, don’t really want to risk hurting you. There’s plenty of alcohol if you want to just get drunk and pass out in the guest room, the beds freshly made and I think Sarah still has some clothes here that would fit you.”

“Thank you Rafe, that’s really sweet of you. Do you think you could um, stay with me? Just hang out here and talk, drink a little, I just don’t want to be alone right now” you sounded so pathetic, tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes.

“Yeah, yeah absolutely”

One drink turned into another and then another, the both of you drunk and giggling while you talked. And then it happened, one little glance at his lips in a moment of shared silence, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear, and you were in his lap kissing him. His hands roaming all over your body until you were pulling away to tell him to take you to the bedroom.

Clothes flying, drunken squeals and giggles slipping out between your moans, the way he made you feel, those were the only things you can clearly remember. And then you woke up the next morning staring at his naked chest, but you didn’t feel guilty for it, instead you wanted it to happen again.

And it did, it happened multiple times a week. Topper did apologize, made up for his behavior that night, but you’d already got a taste of Rafe and now you were hooked. He never suspected anything, didn’t notice the little shared glances between the two of you when you all hung out, the way Rafe’s hand would brush against your thighs, his little whispers in your ear that made you squirm, he was just happy you forgave him. You never thought you’d be at risk getting caught until now, when you were on all fours and Rafe was thrusting into you from behind, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your hip to pull you back into his cock. The both of you were so lost in pleasure that Rafe almost didn’t hear his phone going off, he quickly moved to grab it off the table and answer it.

“Topper, what’s up man?” your eyes widened, panic starting to kick in. You’d thought it was over, he knew, someone had seen something and told him, he put the pieces together, he was calling to tell him he knew.

“Y/N? Yeah she came by to pick something up, said she left it here the last time you guys were over and she had to be out this way anyway. Think she’s still upstairs” you let out a moan when he thrusted back into you unexpectedly, turning your head back to look at him with a bewildered expression. He just gave a a smirk and held his finger to his lips before moving it back to your hip and pulling you back into him to meet each thrust.

You dropped your face into the mattress to muffle any loud moans, pure bliss taking over your body each time Rafe’s cock pressed against that little spot inside your pussy, hoping the call would be over soon. And then the son of a bitch flips you over, puts you on your back and gives you that look. You know, the one that just screams ‘i’m up to no good and you’re about to hate me for this’.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, looking up at him in confusion while trying not to make a sound.

“Actually, she just came down. You wanna talk to her real quick before she finishes up and heads that way?” if looks could kill he’d be six feet under right about now, you shook your head but it was too late, the phone was by your ear and you had no choice.

“Hey baby” it came out shakier than planned and you hoped he wouldn’t question it, it was a lot harder hiding the fact you were cheating on your boyfriend when the man you’re cheating with had his cock buried deep inside your pussy thrusting into you like his life depends on it while on call with said boyfriend.

“Is everything okay? You sound a little winded babe” he was always so concerned, wanting to make sure you were okay at all times if he even suspected something was wrong.

“Better tell him you’re okay princess, don’t let him find out his best friend is balls deep inside his girlfriends pretty pussy” Rafe whispered in your ear, leaving open mouth kisses along your neck and chest.

“Yeah, just a lot of running around the house looking for my ring is a-all” you stuttered out when Rafe pushed all the back into you again, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Okay…well I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? There’s this really nice restaurant i’ve been wanting to take you to, finally managed to get a reservation, and there was something I wanted to talk to you about” you weren’t even fully listening to what he was saying to be honest, you were paying more attention to how good you felt and the smell of Rafe’s cologne, the way his skin felt against yours, how your bodies seemed to mold together perfectly.

“Yea-yeah babe. Sounds great” you were about to let out a moan when long ring clad fingers found their way into your mouth and you, on instinct, bit down slightly.

“Great! I’ll be at your place to pick you up in like an hour okay? I love you”

“Great! Love you too bye” you quickly got out before hanging up and letting out a moan, digging your nails into Rafe’s back.

“Fuck baby i’m close, you want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want a little reminder that even if you’re with him, you’ll always be mine?” you could only nod, small whimpers filling the room.

A few more lazy thrusts before he pushed all the way into you and stayed there, feeling his cock twitch while he filled you with his cum. Your pussy clenching around him while you came at the same time, head thrown back and lips parted moaning his name, a white ring forming on his cock from your cum mixing with his. He pulled out after a few seconds and pulled you to your knees before sliding his cock in your mouth.

“Suck it off baby, just clean it up for me” and you did, licking every drop of your cum off his cock before he pulled out and got dressed.

You went to grab something to wipe the cum away when he stopped you.

“Nah, you go on your little date with my cum leaking out of you”

You gave him a dazed look before nodding and throwing your dress back on followed by your shoes, giving him a kiss and heading for the door.

“That was fun Rafe, i’ll call you later okay?”

“I know you will pretty girl, I look forward to it.” the smile on his face was genuine, not one that he had after a meaningless hookup, but one of true happiness. You brought out the best in him and he couldn’t even have you in any way other than this.

“Me too, I better go now. See ya” you were almost out the front door when you heard him yell your name. You turned around to see him leaning in the doorframe of his bedroom, waiting to see what he had to say.

“You’re my favorite secret”

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