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soaps-mohawk · 10 days

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 17: Alone

Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,866

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.

A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see 🤭. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.

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“We'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.”

He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. You’re forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.

You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. You’re on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet it’s not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now.

You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart.

You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then they’d be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but it’s never felt like this. They’re not just across base from you, they’re probably in an entirely different country.

You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghost’s closed door feels particularly empty.

You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. You’re not quite sure what you’re going to do, now that you don’t have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while they’re at training, except you won’t have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to.

It’ll be days before you see them again.

If you see them again.

You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You won’t entertain it, not now while you’re still trying to process the fact that they’re gone. Even if it is a possibility.

You’re sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You don’t want to be without it, in case they call. You don’t want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if it’s your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.

You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesn’t feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. She’s been here before, and you trust her.

“How are you doing?” She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you.

“I don’t know.” You say, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I don’t blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?”

You nod. “Yeah. It’s too quiet. Too empty.”

“I bet.” You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. “Let’s get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.”

“Was gonna happen eventually, though.” You say. “For the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.”

“It does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if it’s short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what it’s like.”

“I’m trying not to think about that.” You say.

“I think that’s the best thing you can do right now.” She squeezes your arm. “Come on, we’ll get the food to go and we’ll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. It’s much quieter than the mess.”

You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you won’t have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, you’re sure it would have only been worse.

“Make yourself at home.” Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. “You can sit at the desk to eat, if that’s more comfortable. I don’t mind.”

You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, she’s always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you.

“If there’s one thing I miss, it’s good diner food.” Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat.

You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. “I miss a lot of things.”

“Would you ever want to go back and visit America?” Dr. Keller asks.

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“I’m sure they’d take you, if you asked.” She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. “I don’t think there’s much they wouldn’t do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.”

“I’m starting to realize that.” You say.

“Good. It’s reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. You’ve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.”

It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment.

“Can I ask you something?” You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts.

“Of course.” She says, looking up from the papers she’d been looking through.

“Since I’m your only patient, what do you do all day?” You ask.

She smiles. “I do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.”

“Do you ever feel like you’re wasting your skills here?”

She shakes her head. “No. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, there’s a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.” She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. “It’s no less fulfilling than working at institutes. It’s nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.”

“It is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.” You say. “There were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They weren’t always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.”

“Unfortunately that’s rather common with residents.” She says. “Most of them don’t make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.” She smiles at you. “Now my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You won’t hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.”

You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also don’t want to be alone.

“I’d...like to stay here, if that’s okay?” You finally say, making your decision.

“More than okay.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home, do whatever you’d like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You won’t bother me in the slightest. You’re always welcome to hang out in here.”

You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesn’t calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit.

You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you.

You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing they’re not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away.

You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know it’s an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents you’ve had with them. The most they do is stare, though that’s to be expected as an omega.

What if they’re holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment.

You’re shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you’ve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller won’t be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope they’d help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you?

Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you don’t get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? It’s not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you?

You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No one’s coming through the door, no one’s going to try and hurt you.

Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday.

The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact you’re freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’re still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of John’s shirts and sweatpants.

You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You won’t sleep, but at least you’re not panicking anymore.

The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news.

You’re not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know they’re all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them.

You’re still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. You’re exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. You’re constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling.

Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. It’s a risk you’re well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you.

You’re not sure you’d survive that.

Most omegas don’t.

“Still nothing?” Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least.

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

“Sometimes no news is good news.” She says. “I know you’d prefer to have any news at all, though.”

“I can’t stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?” You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard.

“Kate promised she’d call if something happened, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“She’s a woman of her word, I can say that much. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re very capable soldiers. They wouldn’t be in Spec Ops if they weren’t, much less on a highly specialized team.” Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. “It’s still hard, not knowing where they are or what they’re doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.” She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. “I still don’t think she’s completely forgiven him. It’s hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you can’t have constant reassurance that they’re alright.”

Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. “Your mom was an omega?”

She nods. “And dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I don’t think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.” She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. “Come on, lay down.” She directs you.

You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. “Is that why you’re so good at this job?”

She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. “Maybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.” She gently squeezes your arm. “They’ll be alright. They’re probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.”

You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. “What if I fall asleep and it rings?”

“Then I’ll make sure you get a chance to answer it.” She says, squeezing your arm again. “I promise. Get some rest.”

You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if they’re lying dead somewhere right now? What if something’s happened to Kate and she can’t tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know?

Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Keller’s couch. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it as you begin to drift off to sleep.

Screaming. It’s loud, piercing your ears. Something’s holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you don’t care.

“You won’t take her from me! I won’t let you!”

You’re crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you.

Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it won’t let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go.

You know what will happen if you let go.

“She’s no daughter of mine.”

The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over?

Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. You’re being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your mother’s hold and into the unknown.

“Easy, easy.”

You’re gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you.

“Deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.”

Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest.

“You’re alright, you’re safe.”

You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. You’re on the couch in Dr. Keller’s office still. You’re not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare you’ve lived over and over.

Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms.

“You’re alright,” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently.

You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch.

“How long have you been having nightmares?” She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself.

“Since my heat.” You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly.

“You haven’t said anything about it.” She says gently, shifting slightly so she’s facing you.

“I didn’t want to.” You say quietly, shame burning through you. She’s not reprimanding you, yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. “I shouldn’t be having them, I mean...it’s not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.”

“It might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing you’ve been through.”

Her words give you pause. You’ve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done, are far worse than anything you’ve experienced. The things you’ve experienced may pale in comparison, but they’re your experiences. No one else’s.

“If you want to talk about them, that’s what I’m here for.” Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do.

You don’t have to tell her. She won’t force you to do it. She won’t force you to do anything, to say anything you don’t want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who won’t tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you.

You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. “My nightmares, they’re always about the day I left for the institute.” You start, taking a shaky breath. “I haven’t had them in years.”

“You were sent early after your presentation, right?” She asks.

“The day after.” You answer.

“Being sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I can’t even imagine what being sent that soon was like.” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we don’t feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.”

“You think that’s what’s happening?” You ask.

“It’s possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why you’re having nightmares about that event suddenly.”

“Is there anything that will make them stop?” You ask.

“There’s some things we can do together that might help the process. I’m more than happy to help you with it, if that’s what you’d like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.”

“What are we gonna tell John?”

She gives you a look. “Well, I’d advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, that’s entirely up to you and what you want to do.”

You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently.

“Think about it.” She says. “We can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.”

You’re brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before you’re answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadn’t even checked the screen to see who was calling. You’re just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence.

“Hello?”

There’s a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. “Alpha.” The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing John’s voice after so many days.

“I’m here. We’re all here.” He says, distant voices sounding in the background.

A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. “Missed you.”

“I know, we’ve missed you too.”

You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. “You alright? Is everyone alright?”

“We’re alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we haven’t had before. How are you holding up?”

The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. You’ve been depressed and worried and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that you haven’t panicked about something. You’ve been having horrible nightmares and haven’t been sleeping. There’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you’re afraid it might kill you if you don’t see them soon.

“I’m alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.”

“I know, sweetheart.” There’s a sound on the other end, something you can’t make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment you’re worried you were disconnected, but John’s voice cuts through the noise again. “We’re finishing up here soon, and we’ll be home in a couple of days.”

You can’t help but sigh in relief at his words. They’re alright. They’re all safe, and they’re going to be home soon. You’re going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. “Hurry back.” You say, your voice shaky with emotion.

“We’ll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but we’ll be back before you know it.”

Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe it’s the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing they’re really alright paired with the knowledge that they’ll be home soon. Two days doesn’t seem so far now that you know that’s all that stands between you and seeing your pack again.

You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even John’s bed have started to smell more like you.

The first thing you’re going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until they’re the only thing you can smell.

For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. It’s not much, but it’s a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you.

You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your pack’s imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know they’re coming home soon. You clean up John’s room, making his bed again after you’d made a mess of it trying to sleep. They’re all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely won’t be spending much time in it for a while. You’re going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared.

You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes you’d stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. You’re not expecting a knock yet. It’s too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her.

That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you don’t know.

Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You don’t know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless it’s an emergency. Is there an emergency? You’re almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. There’d be some sign that something was happening, but it’s quiet outside, or at least, there’s no noises you’re not expecting.

The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door.

You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They don’t, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. There’s a soldier outside your door. A woman. You don’t recognize her, but then again you don’t see many women on the base, and you don’t pay much attention to the other soldiers.

Maybe you need to start paying more attention.

She’s a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. She’s wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here.

She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. “General Shepherd is waiting for you.”

It takes you a moment to process what it is she’s saying. You’ve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority you’ve met is John, but you know he’s only a Captain. There’s others above him, but you weren’t any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadn’t even been given names of anyone higher up than her.

Apparently something’s changed.

Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isn’t right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldn’t have opened the door so recklessly.

“But, I’m not supposed to-” You begin, unsure of what to do now.

“It’s a direct order from your superior.” The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.

You’re not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and he’s certainly not behind this.

You wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Not right now.

“Okay, okay.” You say, stepping back slightly from the door. “Let me just get some shoes on.”

You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you don’t put it past the woman outside to barge in if you don’t hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again.

She’s still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. You’re reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost.

You’d take those times back over this right now.

Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake you’ve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. You’re not even sure General Shepherd is a real person.

The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did?

You don’t want anyone to get in trouble.

Especially not with this being the first time you’ve been on your own. They’ve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while they’re gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything you’ve built by misbehaving.

The woman leads you to a building you haven’t been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if they’re testing you to see if you’d just blindly leave with a stranger while they’re not there to protect you.

You’ve made a big mistake.

The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. “Your phone.”

You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You don’t have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door.

It’s bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. You’re uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesn’t seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. You’re thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line.

He’s in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all.

You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though it’s only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf.

No one will hear you scream. No one will care.

“My name is General Shepherd.” He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. “I am the acting commander of Task Force 141.”

You’re not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though you’ve never met him before in your life.

“I was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?”

You shake your head. “N-No sir, the CIA didn’t give me any names.”

“Good.” His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves any. “They weren’t supposed to. I’m sure you’ve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.”

“Yes, sir.” You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe.

“I came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You’re getting along well with them?”

You nod again. “Yes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.”

“Good.” He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while you’re so vulnerable. “The success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. You’re doing important work here with the Task Force.” His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark.

You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you.

No one would know. No one would care.

“I’m satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.” He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. “How have you been adjusting to them being gone?”

“It’s been difficult,” You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. “But I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.”

His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. “You’re a smart girl. That’s why I chose you for this position. You’re doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.”

Something about his words don’t sit right with you.

You’re trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. You’re sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside.

You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that she’s breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust that’s so sacred to packs.

She doesn't even seem bothered by it.

She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you.

You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words.

She’s American.

“Thank you for escorting me.” You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Have a safe trip home.”

You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief.

Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it.

You always close your door. You always ensure it’s shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks.

You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. It’s open. Your door is open.

Someone was inside your room.

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #tf 141 x reader #poly 141 #task force 141 x reader

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pathologicalreid · 4 days

Text

gemini | S.R.

two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.

so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding

Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.

In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”

He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.

Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.

She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.

Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.

You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?

“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.

Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.

He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”

Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.

Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.

The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”

You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.

Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.

“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.

His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.

Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.

This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”

Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.

The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.

You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.

He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”

David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.

Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.

Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.

It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.

You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.

Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.

Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.

There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance and nodded quickly, “Yes.”

Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.

Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.

“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.

Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.

You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.

You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.

Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.

“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.

Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”

Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”

“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.

Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.

As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”

The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.

Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.

Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.

He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”

Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.

Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.

“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.

Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.

Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.

You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.

He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”

His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”

On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.

Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.

The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.

If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.

“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.

Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.

Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.

Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.

Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.

As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.

“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”

He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”

Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.

Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.

As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.

Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.

He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”

Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”

“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”

Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.

Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”

“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.

She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”

Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.

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selineram3421 · 3 months

Text

*writing down taglist* Dodadoo, that's a lot.

Hissy Kitty

Part 1

Prologue

Alastor X Reader

Warning!⚠

⚠ cussing, bold italics = sound affects, italics = thoughts, catnip, cat demon reader doing cat things, hehe ⚠

Husk stared with a scowl behind the bar at the red deer demon standing a little too close to you.

Its been a week and that piece of shit would not stop touching you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, grabbing your hand, and even patting you on the head. The last part he's seen the asshole do more often after noticing you purr at the action.

"You've done a wonderful job! I know Niffty appreciates the extra help.", the Radio Demon grinned.

"Are we going to do anything about the ripped up wallpaper?", you asked, looking at one of the lobby walls with peeling wallpaper.

"Don't worry about those. I'll take care of them soon.", the red demon waved it off and pat your head.

Purrrrprrrrrr

"Hands off you slimy fuck!", he threw a bottle at the deer.

Alastor easily dodged and made a tsk noise of disappointment.

"Honestly Husker, you must stop throwing bottles."

You just crossed your arms and sighed. "I'll take my break now."

Husk brought out a cup and a bottle onto the counter, opening it up and waiting for you to notice what drink it was. Not a second later you gravitated towards the bar with dilated pupils.

"Is that..", you mumbled, staring straight at the bottle.

"That's right."

The cat demon flipped off the deer, who was already walking up to the both of you.

"And what is this beverage?", he asked, tapping his fingers on the bar counter.

"Its my favorite.", you whispered, still staring at the bottle. "Husk, hurry up and pour the damn drink."

Your brother chuckled and poured the liquid into the cup, watching in amusement as you snatched it once he lifted the bottle back up.

"Enjoy you gremlin.", he said while putting away the bottle.

The cup was empty a second later.

Alastor was curious.

What is that? Why did the drink have their full attention like that? What a funny reaction.

"Can I have another?", you asked.

"No.", Husk said without a beat, cleaning the cup you used.

"Awwwwwwww!", you whined and rested your head on the counter. "Pleeeeeeeeaaase?"

"No."

Alastor felt his eye twitch at your pouting face.

"I don't see a problem with having another drink.", the deer commented.

You perked up immediately and looked over to the red dressed demon, ears pointing towards him and Husk's ears going back.

"I'm saying no for a reason.", Husk warned.

The Radio Demon rolled his eyes and had his shadow retrieve the bottle.

"I'll take care of whatever problems they cause.", he laughed and swiped the cup from the cat, pouring another drink. "Sound fair?"

"I'm gonna need that in writing."

In writing? He thought placing the filled cup on the counter. Why would that be necessary?

"Surely nothing bad could happen.", he laughed the bartender's concern off and looked towards the cup, only to find it empty.

Alastor looked towards where you were standing and also found that spot empty.

"Better start running deer boy.", Husk said taking the cup. "They have a knack for causing all kind of hell."

Before the Radio Demon could ask what the cat meant, there was a shout from the kitchen.

"WHO ATE ALL OF MA POTATO SALAD!?"

Alastor quickly wrote up a small deal, promising to take care of any problem you might cause while under the influence of the strange beverage.

There's nothing too serious. He thought as he went walking around the hotel to find you. Just minor little things like eating Angel's potato salad and scratching up some couches.

He walked into a common room.

Nothing too bad.

CRASH

Both of you made eye contact after you pushed a cup off of the table you were perched on.

"Dear, I'd advise you not to make anymore mess. I'll have to clean it up later."

Ignoring him, you slowly pushed another glass.

"No.", he said in a warning tone.

You stopped and stared at him for a moment before continuing.

"Oh for the love of-", he sighed as the other glass broke. "Fine. Let's do something about your current state.", he walked over to you.

It didn't even take a second for you to shift into a full on cat and dart out of the room.

Now I see what Husker meant.

"This is going to take a while."

Husk watched with a smug grin and took a sip from his bottle.

"No! Get down from there!", the Radio Demon ran over to the middle of the lobby.

You were on the chandelier.

"Oh yeah, they like tall places.", Husk pointed out.

"What in the devil was in that drink?", Alastor said, trying to use his tendrils to get you down.

All you did was swat and paw at the dark things. Moving out of the way and scratching.

"It's catnip tea."

There was a record scratch.

Alastor felt his eye twitch at how obvious it was.

"Figures."

The cat demon felt a little better that he got you to be a problem for the deer. Maybe after this the smiling fuck would leave you alone. Then he'd finally get some peace.

"Husk? What the fuck is going on?", Vaggie walked over, gesturing to what was happening in the lobby.

"Nothing much, just my sibling giving the deer a hard time.", he responded.

There was a crash.

The chandelier having fallen and you running off again.

"Damn!", the red demon snapped his fingers, bringing up some creatures to clean up the mess before going after you.

"Can I watch?"

"Be my guest."

The two watched as the deer demon chased you around the hotel. Trying and failing at getting a good hold on you. After a few hours, Husk and Vaggie left, having been satisfied with all the random shit you did to keep the smiling demon occupied.

Alastor, having run around the hotel all day was tired and had his shadows chase you instead.

Walking over to the couch with the least amount of scratches, he sat down with a tired sigh and leaned back into the cushions.

"Never again.", he told himself.

There were growls and hissing coming from the other side of the lobby, no doubt you scratching the shadows that tried to grab you.

"Do be gentle, there can't be any fur out of place.", Alastor told the shadows as he rubbed the side of his head.

I'll have to go over our original deal later. He thought about the first contract he had Husker sign.

It got quiet for a moment and he saw that you had torn apart his shadows.

"How did you do that?", he asked as you trotted over and jumped up on the couch.

Even now you were still a little cat, fully embracing your cat side.

"You are a menace, you know that?", he said to you, watching as you 'made biscuits' on one of the pillows.

I didn't know you could cause such chaos. Though you did end up in Hell so that should have said something. He thought and leaned his head back, closing his eyes from being tired and up all day.

Then he felt a weight on his lap.

Snapping his eyes open and looking down, he found you resting like a loaf of bread.

"All I had to do was sit down..", he said annoyed before just giving up. "Alright, alright. You have the honor of besting the Radio Demon."

You were comfortable, eyes closed and adjusting just a bit before staying put.

Such a calm thing when they aren't running about. He thought and started to pet your head, which had you purring immediately.

"You know, I never liked dogs. And with you I can see myself being a cat person."

His hand was yanked back by the wrist.

"You better get your fucking hands off of them!", Husk yelled. "They aren't your fucking pet. This is your last warning."

You had run off and hid from the barking cat.

"They had just settled down.", Alastor said and turned to look at your brother, pissed. "￦h¥ wθμ|d y¤U rμ¡n +h@t?"

"Oh calm your ass down.", Husk took out a bell and dropped it, letting it roll on the floor.

You pounced on it and started messing with the ringing ball.

"You think I don't know how they act? I spent years taking care of them before officially becoming an overlord."

"This would have been useful information earlier.", the deer snatched his hand back.

The cat demon rolled his eyes and went to pick you up along with the ball before turning back to look at his boss.

"I just wanted to see you annoyed.", Husk smiled, walking over to the stairs to take you to your room.

"And stop touching them. Read our fucking contract you dumbass. You're not supposed to lay a hand on anyone I genuinely care about."

Alastor stayed for a moment longer before shadow traveling to his hotel room, going over to his desk and rummaging through it for the contract.

"Where is the blasted old thing.", he mumbled, going through his papers before remembering he could snap it into his hands. "Looks like I really am tired."

He did just that and looked over the contract, skimming through it until he reached the part about protection.

"No touching, holding, dancing or any unnecessary physical contact with any demon I, The Gambling Demon, deem important enough to care about. This includes any blood relatives still alive in Hell."

The Radio Demon laughed.

What a clever cat.

"Let's see where I can find a loophole.", he grabbed a pen to take notes.

Let the game begin.

If you asked to be added but don't find your name in the taglist, please let me know through messages. I'll try to tag you again, and if it still doesn't work then I'll send you updates through messages.

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

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ML for Alastor🎙 | HK ChL😾

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screampied · 2 months

Text

‘ LOVE ME, LOVE ME [NOT] ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. on your life, you swore you hated him. that stupid smirk that curled against his lips, you loathed toji fushiguro. but how does a single kiss change that? is this hatred you feel—or is it romantic denial?

wc. 8.4k

warnings. fem! reader, arranged marriage au, slow burn (?), sharing one bed, unrequited love, degradation, praise, edging, size difference, fingering, semi public, implied multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, impact play.

“ya just gonna stand there or,” toji raises a brow, and you gave him the biggest glare imaginable. it was late at night, about a quarter past eleven and you were exhausted.

you had a long day, and the last thing you’d wanna come back home to was a guy on your bed. toji was sprawled all out, stretched all over your side of the bed, and he gives you a teasing grin. “so y’er the brat i’m supposed to marry.”

“you’re not sleeping here.” you grouse, making an attempt to shove him but it gets literally nowhere. toji stays put, glancing up at you and his facial expression was purely amused.

he hums. “oh? says who?”

“says me. now move before i—,” you chastise, crawling into the bed to move him before with quick reflexes, he gets ahold of you — and stupidly, you fall right into his chest, a sudden oof sound departing from your lips before he snickers.

“now we’re both scared, princess,” toji rolls his eyes, and you’re all propped up against his chest. he was so warm, and oh how he smelled so good..

toji’s got the biggest smirk on his lips as you’re awkwardly laid on his lap. the both of you share an intense gaze that felt like forever - and once he finally breaks the silence, he mutters, “quite a brat but i gotta admit, y’er real pretty up close.”

you shift your eyes away, and you let off a soft gasp once a hand of his brushes against your waist. toji continued to speak, and his tone was a bit more pitchy and stern. “glare all ya want dollface, ‘m not moving.”

“fucking bastard..” you grumbled underneath your breath, crawling off from his lap before he pulled you back into him.

“who’s gonna marry this bastard though,” and then he clicks his tongue, adding a snarky, “uh huh. exactly. but at least come up with better insults than that,” and it’s a long awkward pause. toji finally looks up at you again, his tantalizing grin fading before darkened irises of his lock onto yours.

it was intimate.

the eye contact was, strangely sensual… you wanted to know more about this man.

you’ve heard countless stories, especially the ones where he was known for being notorious but you’ve always pondered. out of any random guy, you got paired up to be betrothed to the infamous toji fushiguro.

he ends the silence with … a deep kiss.

everything moved at such a speed, you didn’t even realize you were kissing him until you felt his tongue run down yours. he had such a flavor, your eyes briefly closed, returning the gesture and he cups yours face. a low grunt could be heard from him, and despite it being seconds…toji was definitely addicted to your sweetened taste.

it took you a long moment before you pull away, strands of spit departing and you stutter out a timid, “w-what was that for?”

“why’d you kiss back?” he eyes you down, and he brings a thumb up to your lips, swiping against it and it was unintentionally sexy—toji stares down at your lips, as if he wanted to kiss you again, but his eyes then flicker back up towards you. “if we’re gonna be tied together, you should know how to kiss,” only to then he replies with a sassy, “…you could use some work though.”

“…shut up,” you groused, a cute pout forming on your lips as you scoot away to shove a pillow at him. “whatever. i’m going to bed. we have stupid rehearsal tomorrow.”

toji runs a hand through his hair as he snickers, watching your frustrated obvious embarrassed state. you reach to turn off the lamp, getting comfortable underneath the fat silk covers.

“aren’t ya gonna ask for a goodnight kiss?”

“fuck you, toji.”

“heh. one day, girl.”

with furrowed eyebrows, you didn’t get what he meant, and once you did—you were glad it was pitch dark so he couldn’t see your visible abashed expression.

momentarily, the two of you ended up sleeping. you’re all the way on the other side of the bed, yet due to toji being a rough sleeper apparently, he finds himself getting close to you.

regardless of being crazy in bed whilst in a deep slumber, he surprisingly didn’t snore.

you found yourself tucked right in his strong arms. you felt safe—secure. leaning into his warmth, you suddenly feel a cold sweat wash over you.

beat after beat, your heart raced and what your mind processed. it felt so surreal.

you felt a mixture of both, hot…cold…. a plethora of feelings.

once your eyes shot open, your first reaction was to wake up toji. of course, you’d ignore your feelings and go back to sleep. but something deep inside you was telling you, you need him.

“wha—” he grumbles, his tone was hoarse due to him waking up abruptly, it was around probably three thirty in the morning. he was about to reply with a usual teasing remark before he spots you, hovering over him with tears stinging in your eyes. “hey. hey…what’s the uh… matter?”

his tone suddenly went tender, you stare at toji, observing his face with blurred eyes from the tears. your eyes met towards his relaxed face, his perfectly structured chin, even his slanted scar that ran across a part of his lip.

“i— it was…” you sniffle, but for some reason, the words got trapped into your throat. sealed, preventing you from muttering another word.

“shh…it’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeats, bringing you close towards his chest. you tried to relax within his grip, he’s so gentle and drags a hand down your back soothingly. “easy, girl. i’m…here.”

judging from the continuous pauses in toji’s tone, you could tell he didn’t know what to say — what to do, but he knew he had to at least hold you.

you felt insanely vulnerable, all to a man you’ve only known for maybe what…a few hours.

his voice, it was relaxing and soft, despite its roughness. the rhythm his hand had, stroking back and forth against your back, you let off a low sigh. his cologne wafts against your nose before you slowly look up at toji, and he’s already staring at you.

“…you good?” he mutters, an eyebrow slightly raising.

“y-yeah,” you mumble, a tiny pout glossing on your lips again. it was cute — he was about to comment on it, yet you watch him start to shift away. you wrap your arms around his waist, briefly doing a head shake. “stay still, toji.”

“ooh. first name basis now?” he hums, fully complying with your request. his thumb lightly grazes near your back before you feel his chest jerk a bit from a chortle. “but okay, we can stay like this princess.”

you felt your face get hot at the pet name, why—?

just him calling you ‘princess’ was enough to make you feel such intensity. he brushes a hand back and forth swiftly. it was tender, you let off a soft sigh, any signs of nervousness leaving you completely.

“…don’t call me that.” you grumbled, your eyes shifted up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“and yet y’er still talking,” he chastised, this time a pout forming on his lips, it was cute.

the way the scar that ran across the edge of his mouth tugged together solely from the movements of his facial expressions.

toji catches you staring at him before he breathes out, “i don’t even get a thank you,” he nudges you, an attempt to lighten the mood—to perhaps earn out a smile out of you, and that he did. “get some sleep though, brat. got me hugging you, tch.”

it was a drag. reality coming to you that not only had you have to marry this man, but you had to live with him also..

multiple days passed, the two of you practically pretended each other didn’t exist.

toji was almost always working . .

albeit, he’s never told you specifically what his occupation was.

you knew he was a feared man—for whatever strange reason, but you decided to not comment on it. perhaps that was a good thing.

sooner rather than later, your wedding date was approaching. everything felt like it was going at a rapid speed.

toji was, well . . . a private man to say the least. you tried to get to know him, but he was like an empty canvas. there was something he didn’t want to tell you.

ex-wife, ex-girlfriend..?

you couldn’t help but ponder. sure, he was an attractive man. quite very much easy on the eyes. such striking features, heavily intimidating. if only he didn’t have such a huge ego. he was practically insufferable to live with. the two of you were total opposites in terms of personality.

he’d often tease you every chance he got, poking fun at you for even the smallest things.

“…wow,” toji muttered, leaning back against his chair. the moment you stepped into the room in nothing but a pretty silk dress, his eyes roamed and roamed.

it was a pretty long a-line dress. it was perfectly sewn on, hugging your curves tightly, the sash that ran across your waist. toji for once was speechless, his eyes lingered towards your entire frame. your figure—it was forever gorgeous in his eyes. for a moment, you saw a sudden look in his irises, as if he’s been in this moment before.

he has. judging from his past, but you didn’t know that.

toji dismisses a sudden flashback before focusing his attention back towards you, standing up from his chair, uttering a, “c’mere. i wanna get a closer look.”

“was that a good wow or a bad wow?” you puff out, sliding your feet across the floor towards him. you swallow to yourself, can’t help but feel a certain butterfly stir up inside you.

toji’s eyes were on you the entire time. his eyes linger down your body and seeing how the way it fit perfectly before he mutters.

“it’s whatever you want it to be, princess.”

“why can’t you just reply like a normal person?” you furrow your eyebrows—visibly trying to hide your embarrassment.

toji snickers. “you look gorgeous,” and he looks as if he wants to touch you, but he halts, tugging on his tie before trying to maintain a neutral gaze. “is this the one?”

“yeah,” you mutter, and that’s when for a brief moment. the two of you just stand there. toji’s hands were buried in his pockets, and he’s got that annoying simper resting on his face.

this man.

it was as if his irises were a mystery — pools of complete mystery. you could never read him.

toji brings a hand towards your face, and he strokes your chin with the pad of his thumb. “you know,” he starts in a rough voice, feeling how claustrophobic it almost was . . the two of you cramped up in a dressing room like this, you tried to dismiss any dirty thoughts. “i keep noticing how bad you are at eye contact, princess. you have a habit of staring at my lips instead of my eyes.

“…shut up.” you mumble, practically leaning into his touch despite your stubbornness. he smiles, derisively raising a brow.

“if ya want another kiss from y’er husband, just say that.” toji murmurs, his strokes went towards your lips. he’s the one who looks at your lips this time, almost witnessing the whine that was about to leave your mouth.

it suddenly felt hot . . . scorching.

the gaze he had on you, such a meaningless yet seductive look. as if he was forevermore captivated by your beauty, and in this case he was.

“…toji,” was all you let out, a soft pout going against your glossed lips. he looked so handsome up close. darkened strands of hair that ran down his eyes briefly, it was ruffled.

you loathed feeling like this, that stare he gave you. it started to make you feel a certain type of way, between your legs.

“yeahh?” he slyly remarks, leaning up close. just inches apart, he was so close to kissing you. you smelled mint with a slight tang of alcohol run on his breath, he knew what he was doing. “needy girl. look at that pout, so cute.”

“kiss me, toji.” you breathe, not even intending to sound so whiny.

it killed you, seeing how desperate you were for another one of his kisses. you craved it though. the way whenever his lips would hit against yours, it felt you were the only person in the world. he knew that’d be the only way to shut you up.

“look at you using your words,” he hums, sliding his thumb against your bottom lip for a final time. toji then leans in, tilting your chin a bit and his lips gently press against yours.

your lashes fluttered, feeling a certain feeling stir up inside you. you couldn’t describe it . . . again, this man.

you made it known to yourself that you wouldn’t get like this for anyone. feel this …. weak. yet with toji, he had you wrapped around his finger.

it was that easy.

just from a kiss.

a stupid kiss.

toji grips your chin, and you move back until you’re pinned against the wall. the pure feeling of the cold mirror frame skimming against your back.

toji grunts in your mouth, his tongue colliding against yours throughout each second. his hands started to roam up your body, as if he was waiting to touch on you.

graze his fingers down every inch of your pretty physique. you moan, feeling a rough hand of his slowly lift your leg up.

the soft fabric of your dress ruffles against his thigh, and your leg ends up wrapping around him.

he chuckles, deepening the kiss, you felt the very edge of his scar tickle against you. “fuck, y’er something else,” he says between kisses, and he feels you tugging on his tie.

in the background played some catchy tune — a random popular song, you felt the warmth of toji’s body grind against you.

so incredibly good, the tips of your ears started to heat up. his hand trails lower and lower until your breath hitched, feeling the tips of his fingers dance against your skin.

“you do realize we’re in public, right sweetheart?” toji whispers, breaking his lips away to kiss near your neck. he smelled intoxicating, a perfect mixture of cologne—surprisingly not a cheap kind. it smelled worth a hefty value, and it made you gnaw on your lip. “are you-”

“you talk too much,” you chastise, grabbing onto his wrist. he snickers, watching you take a hold of his grip. you drag his hand between your legs, letting off a puff. “i just—i don’t care. i want you to touch me. you— you tease me all day, ‘n i- i just want—”

toji stares at you, you’re still making his hand go down until it’s right between your thighs. raising up your dress that wasn’t paid for, his fingers brush against your panties. “…oh,” he purrs, arched brows pressing together. “you’re kinky. but okay, if my pretty wife wants me to touch her, then i’ll touch her.”

“i’m…not your wife, idiot.” you pant.

“don’t worry, girl. you will be,” he mumbles, bringing his lips towards the side of your neck.

he sinks his teeth gently, nipping at the sensitive skin to hear you moan.

you were so close to him—the way his touch sent you into a complete frenzy. toji slides your panties to the side, and you let off a whine, feeling him feel the slickness that stuck against your folds. “aw. were you wet this entire time we were out?”

you felt your face heat up. oh, you were extremely embarrassed.

he had you like this, soaking wet. you couldn’t even explain why. this man had you like this… so feral.

to think you were gonna walk down the aisle with him pretty soon. at this particular point, you didn’t care about feelings. by now, you weren’t even sure of what you felt towards toji. you just knew that you wanted him to touch you.

“so impatient,” toji murmurs, making you lean back against the wall. he was such a tease, staring daggers, sexual daggers right at you.

toji stares as you tug on his pants, you don’t even know what came of you—it was as if your body craved him. “we just had one more store, princess. you couldn’t wait?”

“…toji,” you’d pout. pulling on the thin fabric of his tuxedo. he looked so handsome. you only started to imagine what he’d look like once the two of you officially got hitched. he raises his brows, leaning towards you before you gasp once he brushes a finger towards your exposed clit. “i- i can’t fucking wait anymore. please, just—”

“watch that mouth of yours,” toji sneers, and he cuts you off with a deep kiss.

you moan, feeling entirely hot once he slowly inserts a finger inside. “nasty girl. walkin’ around this wet,” he’d grumble, your arms went over his neck as you bit your lip. “easy. relax, thereeee we go. good girl,” and his praises went straight towards your cunt.

he had such a way with words, his fingers had quite a length to it not to mention. all throughout, you felt him prod against your walls and you whined for more. “i knew we’d get along.”

“s-shut up.”

“s-shut uppp,” he mocks your tone, a raspy snicker following. he grins at the cute scowl that went on your lips before you mom again. he reached so deep, and then he added another finger inside. toji watched as you glossed lips parted, you were heavily panting. “such a mess down here. just filthy.”

he was so gentle with his strokes—a simple bowling ball grip that made your maw practically drop. it felt so good, gingerly caressing your clit. your chest heaved and heaved, and you started to whimper against his ear.

he loved whenever you did that. the sweet pitches your voice would make, it was almost melodic.

“f-fuck,” you’d sigh, trying to focus on your breathing patterns. you had to remind yourself the two of you were in public.

in a secluded dressing room.

the circular motions he created made you practically squeeze your plushy thighs together. he was so good with his hands, it made your eyes start to roll back dramatically. “right there, t-toji.”

“squeeze around me so good—wonder how you’d be with me doin’ the real thing, princess.” and the way he’d do that thing, pitching his voice into a husky rasp. it made you feel a surge of tingles coarse all throughout your body. you were essentially hugging him, your unbought dress lazily pulled up. “tell me how’s it feel, talk to me.”

his words… it was so sensual, he goes right up against your ear as he spoke. licking against your earlobe before it turns into brief nibbling. he knew what he was doing, getting you all hot and bothered.

you swallowed thickly, and he has a perfect tempo. not to fast, not too slow. by this point, both of his fingers that was shoved into your pussy was covered in your sweetened slick.

“good, f-feels good,” you’d whine out, pant after pant. your breathing became erratic—mind swollen with nothing but filthy thoughts. just the sheer reality of being fingered like this, it made you a little wet. no, it made you incredibly wet.

toji’s stimulating your clit, his formation was forever euphoric.

it was like a drug, the way you wanted his fingers slid in and out. he purposely grew quiet so you could hear the sloppy squelches your cunt made in retaliation. “listen how she just… talks back, no fuckin’ manners just like you.”

your bottom lip quivered, his dirty talk…

each word going straight between your thighs. with your back arching, you felt yourself clamp around him, a big squeeze.

it was like with the tips of his fingers, he knew how to reach every crevice, everywhere inside your folds. “the way y’er voice always gets high once i get to this spot. such a sensitive baby.”

curling and curling, toji’s fingers was going in and out of you. by this point, you were completely drenched. he was using his entire wrist, you felt the cold hand of his watch skim against your skin in the process. “i-i’m getting close, toji fuckkk.”

“yeah. bet you are,” he nips at your neck, speeding up his fingers just a bit. you felt dizzy, forevermore trapped in your mind—chasing a powerful incoming orgasm. it was no denying, your legs were just trembling by this point. he knew the anatomy of your pussy perfectly, as if he was skilled in it professionally. “i want you to do somethin’ for me.”

“huh?” you whined, still propped up against the mirror. he’s still trapped with your arms wrapped around his neck, right between your legs just barely.

toji sneaks a kiss near the inner part of your neck before mumbling, “i want you to make a mess on me. can ya do that?”

as your eyelids droop, becoming lower and lower, you pathetically nod, whimpering out a sweet shaky, “okay, okay.”

toji felt the texture inside of you…easily stretching your walls a bit with just two slender fingers. his fingers was thick though, your mouth hung open with not even coherent words coming out. just cacophonies of, “toji,” and “f-fuckk,” with many others.

he kept a gaze on you the entire time, he wasn’t sure by this particular point what he felt towards you. the noises that escaped from your lips, he wanted to hear more of it, maybe even drag out a sweet scream from you.

“t-toji, ‘s gonna…” you slur out your words, sounding like you were running a marathon.

he maneuvers circles against your clit with two fingers, tickling against your opening and you let off a whimpering, “oh my god, oh my g-godddd.”

“…y’er so loud,” he rasps, leaning in to shut you up with a kiss. it was passionate—a tang of sloppiness to it. his tongue ran against yours, and you felt a coil within you abruptly snap.

once you orgasm, it was far more than you expected. because you felt even more soaked. you shivered, a muffled orgasm pouring into his lips before toji slows his fingers down.

pulling away, he’s watching with sly eyes of the stringy cobweb of saliva depart from both lips, he huffs. “girl, did you just squirt on me?”

your nerves, you whimpered once he slide a thumb against your pulsating nub, taking his fingers out to gawk at it. how you effortlessly coated his fingers with your slick. you didn’t reply, you’re in the midst of catching your breath before toji hums.

“yeah. you fuckin’ squirted on me,” he answers his own question, about to lean in for another kiss. yet that’s when the door knocks obnoxiously.

it’s an older lady, and she’s got quite the vexed voice. “excuse me sir, the store’s closed. can you two please—”

“yeah, yeah we’re coming,” toji rolls his eyes, and you’ve never been more embarrassed.

he peppers a kiss against your forehead before glancing down at your dress with a smirk. “you’ll be a doll and pay for that, right? it’s a little damaged but i'm sure you’ve got that covered, baby.”

cheap bastard.

it’d always be moments like this between you two. except, the both of you never went all the way. toji liked to take his time with you. he wanted to make you wait—it irked you.

he was a professional at getting on your nerves, making your eyes roll to the very depths of your skull.

it was like the more time you spent with him, the more you started to feel this … feeling.

you didn’t know what it was. you couldn’t describe it. all you knew was that it felt weird.

not so much in a weird way, more of a … natural way. you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt like this.

perhaps calling it love was foolish, then again you hated not being able to describe this feeling. whatever it was.

toji started to grow attached to you — whether he was too stubborn to realize it or not.

it would be small things, calling you while he was at work just to tease you, help you get things from the top shelves… feeling him against you, just fantasizing about that made you start to throb.

preparations for the wedding felt like it was taking centuries — everything had to be perfect.

eventually, you picked out a dress. it fit perfectly, and toji hasn’t seen it yet.

sooner than you knew it, it was the day of the wedding.

the arranged marriage.

truth be told, you still barely knew the gist of everything. it’s probably been about a good half month before the day eventually comes. the two of you ended up going separately, not together.

alas, you and toji end up running into each other near the entrance of the venue.

“toji,” you’d mumble, words being caught way back in your throat.

he was suited up, so handsome. slicked down with a tuxedo. with hands buried in his pockets, his head was slightly tilted down as he gifted you with the same gaze. “we aren’t supposed—we aren’t supposed to see each other before the ceremony,” and your words trail the more he trods towards you. “it gives us bad luck.”

“hey girl,” he murmurs in that familiar rasp. his naturally ruffled hair was slightly slicked back, a few strands poking through. “you look like my wife already,”

and you felt your heart race, hearing him say that, ‘my wife.’ it made your eyebrows slightly curl in puzzlement before he strokes your cheek. “i’ve been meaning to see you anyway. this wedding is gonna last us all day.”

you stare up at him, a tiny glimmer in your eye before breathing. “…well yeah, the after party and everything. why do you-”

“the more i stare at your dress, the more i wanna tear it off,” he uttered, his voice pitches a deep low. he swipes his thumb directly next to your chin. leaning into his touch, you returned the same eye contact, and he sighs. “i don’t want any other eyes seeing this but me.”

“so take it off then,” you mutter, watching the scar slanted against toji’s lips curl into a playful grin. “it’s about time, toji.”

with an eye roll, he grabs your wrist lightly, pulling you into one of the fitting rooms of the venue.

scattered everywhere was a bunch of preparations for the wedding. multiple dresses, cakes, and even presents. yet, the two of you could care less about that.

“we gotta work on that annoying ass attitude of yours,” he breathes, not wanting to waste a split second. toji lifts you up, moving you towards the table. you wrap your arms around him before gasping.

“don’t ruin my dress, toji. ‘n ‘i’m not gonna pay for it again.” you say against his ear, hearing him smack his lips in reprisal.

“yeah yeah. i won’t ruin it, baby,” he rolls his eyes, carefully reaching beneath your back.

he slowly unzips it, watching the fabric drag down your chest before you’re almost exposed. his eyes roamed, making you feel a sudden heat pulse between your legs. he had one of the most intimidating gazes ever known to man.

once toji helps you fully get out of your dress.

his eyes avert towards between your thighs, squeezed tightly shut. “…girl,” he rasps, making your legs part briefly before flickering his eyes right back towards you. “were you really gonna walk down the aisle with no panties?

“i— i forgot,” you huff out, running a few fingers through his hair. if you weren’t mistaken, you could hear a purr come from toji’s lips. the way you massaged his scalp with such ease, your touch was everlastingly gentle. “i was rushing earlier and-”

“nah, you didn’t forget. you did this for me, didn’t you princess?” he whispers, leaning in to plant a kiss near the inner part of your neck.

his lips were so soft.

with a loud clank towards the wooden floor, your heels fell to the ground with an abrupt thud. toji was so touchy, his rough textured hands wandered all over your body. such shivers coming out of you. “y-yes,” you’d drag out, desperately longing for him to just be inside you already.

you’ve fantasized about this particular moment in more ways than you could count…

likewise, you were far too embarrassed to flat out ask toji to please you.

except for the moment between the two of you at the mall, that was the closest you’ve ever gotten. as mentioned before, he liked making you wait. he figured the wedding day would be the best day to show you how to deal with a real husband.

in more ways than one… but specifically - the bedroom.

he couldn’t keep his hands off you, it was impossible. you took the chance to gnaw on your lip, feeling him touch all over you. such rough hands, yet so tender. he starts off with kisses near your lips, chaste ones near the corner of your mouth, beneath your chin, your neck…

as he inched lower and lower, you intake a sharp breath, feeling a few strands of his hair tickle against your skin.

“pretty body all jus’ for me,” he’d murmur, an almost coo escaping from his lips. you’re propped up on the table before toji sprawls your legs apart. he leers at the way your legs, the fishnets that purely decorated it.

with his teeth, he starts to tear them off before you whine. “toji— i have to keep these.”

“y’er dress is long, baby. no one’s gonna be looking at my girl under here,” he replies, such a deep tone hovering underneath his wordings by defeault.

again, the way he addressed you as ‘his girl,’ it pathetically made you throb. a weird feeling throbbed inside of your heart ; the same feeling you always failed to describe.

to think you weren’t so fond of this egotistical arrogant man, and now—you were happily drenched for him.

time felt like it went by so fast. those two months you’ve gotten to know this man felt like two seconds. mayhaps that unfamiliar that continued to reside in your chest was…love?

just imagining that made you almost gag, but perhaps that was it.

could it be that you were falling for a guy you were arranged to spend the rest of your life with? you remember a conversation with toji, telling him that you had a bit of commitment issues.

so did he.

that caused the two of you to bond, and toji even opened up to you a bit. about his ex-wife.

he was really selective with his words, but whenever he spoke about her, his eyes always lit up.

toji knew what it was like to be in love already. you didn’t.

“always trapped up in those pretty thoughts of yours, huh,” toji snaps you back to reality.

he’s made sure not to ruin your fishnets, swiftly peeling them down with his teeth before you don’t even realize he’s already got you more soaked than you were before.

your cunt drooled for him—aching for more of his touch. the second you felt his breath fan against your entrance, he’s toying with you by blowing against your pussy.

you whined, starting to pant with your eyes flickering straight down towards him. “f-fuck. our marriage’s gonna get bad luck, toji.. wasn’t supposed to see me y-yet.”

“i’m gonna marry you tonight, princess,” he reassures you. and for a split second, he has this stare as if he’s entirely joking with you.

however, his tone always sounded deadly serious.

that rasp to it made you squeeze your thighs shut together in desperation. “nothin’ is gonna happen. we won’t get bad luck.”

and you moaned, watching him smear a thumb down your swollen clit.

it’s pulsing, and he doesn’t wait to lick a long stripe against your folds. his tongue made you swallow, already your legs started to quaver.

he lays the base of his tongue flat against your pussy, and you bite your lip, feeling the edge of his scar swipe by your entrance.

you liked that, a lot. a bit more than you should because he notices. gathering a wad of spit before he spat on your glistening folds. “ooh. ya like feelin’ my scar like that, princess? how’s it feel when i rub against you like this?”

“good...goooood,” you whined, burying your fingers into his hair. dragging him all across your folds, he laps up your slick that started to run down his chin before you whimper. “your scar. it-tickles, toji.”

his lashes close for a brief moment, and you moan once he slides a finger inside, gingerly easing his way inside, feeling you squeeze around him. “aw,”

he purrs lightly, pressing a teasing chaste kiss alongside your clit. lowering his tongue, he makes sure it’s going right underneath your sensitive nub.

toji was precise - his tongue knew every direct spot to make you sob out his name.

you didn’t even bother being quiet this time—you whimpered and mewled until your pretty voice was strained. “keep lookin’ away ‘n i’ll stop givin’ this pussy attention.”

you’re panting, heaving and heaving as your eyes trail back down towards toji.

the tip of his nose prods up against your folds, the fact that he’s nose deep…not a care in the world.

his tongue continues to loll out, lapping up every drop of your sweetened slick. it carelessly coated his mouth, the few specks of facial hair that was barely visible. it ran all over the under part of his chin. such a messy eater. but you and him both knew that.

“eyes down here, yeahhh. that’s it,” he coos, applying extra amounts of pressure with his tongue. he lies it flat down, and he was so sloppy.

gathering up strings of his saliva, flickering his eyes back towards you to give you a cocky grin. “pull on my hair some more…fuck, jus’ like that. yank it.”

toji gets hard feeling you roughly grip onto his darkened black locks. it gets tangled within your fingers, and you start to briefly massage his scalp, earning a low groan from him.

toji could eat you out for hours, without a single care in the world—just his tongue between your legs, eating you out like a starved man.

as his tongue moves upwards, you whimper out a “s-shit,” that echoes throughout the room. his thumb skims against your entrance before you feel his tongue slide its way upwards, backwards. an entire zigzag of letters. “oh my goddd, toji. ‘m gonna c-cum.”

“such a nasty fiancé. was about to walk down the aisle with no panties. the fuckin’ nerve,” he grumbles.

a pout curls against your lips once you feel his tongue slow down.

gradually, you start to move your hips by his face and he shoots you a glare that makes you pulse. toji breaks away, pressing kisses near your inner thighs now. he’s taking attention away from your clit, and you whimper. “awh. what’s with the pout? don’t like waiting huh?”

“t— toji…” you weren’t fond of being edged, of waiting. toji raises his brows, a thumb toying with your clit, stroking it before even giving it a sweet nibble. “p-please. don’t kiss my thighs, jus’ finish. wanna cum..”

“pretty please,” he corrects you, purposely slowing his pace down just to watch you squirm in such desire. your legs. “say it girl. speak to me in that pretty voice.”

it shook, vigorously.

all from the rapid strokes of his tongue. your breathing patterns became so irregular it had you gasping for hair.

the way he made sure to suck and lick over every spot. chills, shivers and a plethora of other feelings run down your body before you moan, feeling him lightly nibble against your slit.

with a shaky breath exiting your throat, you mewl out a whiney, “pretty please toji. pleasepleaseplease.”

“good girl,” he says in a smooth tone, making you let off a moan solely from the way he spoke to you.

toji lowered his words, pronouncing in such a silky way that it made you pulse. he takes a concise slurp near your g-spot before mimicking a technique with his fingers.

unhurriedly, he slides a finger into your slick entrance, still hovering his tongue all throughout your pussy before you’re just nearly about to break.

with your maw dropped wide, you came with the most tumultuous orgasm imaginable. he brushes his tongue against your slit as you ride out your orgasm, body growing limp abruptly over the table before you whine once he gets up.

“open that mouth,” he utters, getting right between your trembling legs. without even a split question, you part your lips - unaware of the kiss that he planted right on your mouth.

toji picks you up, the pretty anklet you were just idly brushing down his back. he carries you towards the sofa, still tongue tied with you—you moan in his mouth, tasting the sweetened tang of alcohol on his tongue.

“y’don't know how bad i need you,” he gruffs, breaking between kisses, strands of your own saliva departs, and the more he shoved his tongue down your throat, the more you tasted yourself. swiftly, you move your tongue beneath his bottom lip, tasting how sweet you were and it made you whine.

toji’s words rang throughout your ears like church bells. he practically treated you like a rag doll. your dress was off—and you were all exposed with just a pretty bra.

“tell me you want me,” he mouthed, getting directly between you. toji was between your legs, hovering over you with bulky arms just stretched near the sides of you. he leans in, cupping your chin, stroking your thumb. “tell me you want me, and i’ll give you all of me.”

“i— i want all of you, toji,” you pant, your eyes focusing directly on him and only him. toji was still in his tuxedo. he was so handsome, there was certainly no denying. with matching black slacks, he reached for his tie—giving it a firm pull before snickering at your answer.

“good girl,” he praises you, and you’re so impatient. with a few shuffling you hear the commotion of him unbuckling his pants — he's intentionally going slow, dragging things out to see that sweet pout form across your lips again. “goin’ as fast as i can, sweetheart. don’t give me that look.”

he was always such a tease. you kissed your teeth in annoyance, averting your eyes towards the ceiling before he’s finally through.

toji stares down, using his right hand to pry your legs open a bit. his left hand to give himself a few pumps. you glanced down, and nearly moaned at the sight of his length. he was so thick, veins ran all the way down and you were almost drooling.

he grunts, spotting you gawking at him and it only gets him ten times harder. taking a deep inhale, you stare at his happy trail. speckles of black hair decorating near his abdomen. it was sexy, toji was a well trimmed man surprisingly.

“f-fuck, look how hard you make me,” he huffs out, and that’s when he makes you turn over on your back. you were staggered a bit at the sudden change of position—yet before you could react, that’s when you felt the plump tip of his dick prod against your entrance. “damn. she’s all excited for me. fuck this wedding, i just want you princess.”

his words…there came that same feeling brewing up inside you. a soft whine escapes from your lips as you’re dumbly arched beside the sofa, sucking in a breath. he finishes gently aligning himself.

once he starts to go in, you let off a, “f-fuckkk,” that reverberated across the entire fitting room. he was big. saying toji was big, an entire understatement.

his girth had you nearly choking on your own saliva. with a single hand, he grips onto your waist, watching you gradually swallow him. “toji, you’re so b-big. ‘s really big.”

“perfect size just for you, baby,” he sighs, already feeling droplets of sweat race down the sides of his forehead.

toji’s heaving, he licks his lips at the sight of you arching for him. as each inch sinks in further and further—you could feel him stretch you out even better than his fingers ever could.

your pussy squelched, longing for him to keep going. start up a pace, do something..

“easy girl, easy,” he murmurs, just barely halfway in. you try to bear around him and he smiles, running a hand down your spine to make you whimper. “relax for me. that’s it. good fuckin’ good.”

“t-toji..” you’d moan. each set of praises he gave you made your head spin, your heart raced, thinking was so hard for you. especially with such a size as big as his. “oh my g-god, ‘m gonna cum.”

he clicks his tongue, almost in before caressing your ass. “no baby, y’er not gonna cum yet,” and then he titter’s underneath his breath. “cute little drama queen.”

he was right in some way—you weren’t gonna cum so soon, but it did feel like it.

your face lowers against the cushioned pillow, flat down and you hug against it. biting your lip, your eyes rolled into the very depths of your cranium once toji presents you with a single rough thrust.

one thrust.

one thrust was all it took to make you let off the most sweetest melodic whimper imaginable. toji wanted to hear it—again, and again, and again. if it was anything he knew, he was slowly becoming more and more addicted to his future wife’s voice.

“i just want you to feel all of me,” he starts, speaking between thrusts. your lips, spit-glossed and quavering. you whimper out, feeling his body weight press against you.

it was so provocative. so arousing, this particular position.

doggystyle but with more depth.

he’d be able to reach more in a deeper angle to where you’re barely able to formulate comprehensible sentences. “i wanna reach you in spots no one’s ever reached before, princess,” he continued, leaning right up close to you—you let off a whine, feeling his cock stretch you out with such simplicity. “will you let me do that?”

“yes, yes. please..” you immediately spat out, feeling yourself coat the lower part of his shaft with your slick. you were already drenched, so soaked from before. being propped up over the armrest of the sofa. it made you feel so lewd.

your cunt gripped all against him, gummy walls tugging back and forth tightly that it makes you whimper out. “toji, i want you. i- i want you too.”

“yeah girl. i know you do.” he replies with sass, giving your ass a brief smack—only to quickly caress it shortly afterwards. the sting, you licked your lips before letting off a sweet whimper. just a simple action as that made you throb.

toji was a big guy, once he started up a rhythmic pace, you immediately fell in love. not with him, with his strikes, his mean thwacking hits against your cunt.

or was it …?

only time could tell.

you were far too dumb to comprehend anything. all you could even fathom was how big he was. stretching your cunt out as if it was some sort of elastic band.

toji’s cock reached every crevice, you felt his tip prod against spots you didn’t even know could be reached.

“o-ohhh my fuckin’ god, fuckkk,” you’d gasp, feeling him lower his weight against you just a bit further. by this point, he was smacking his hips roughly against you.

it was hypnotizing. the way he rolled his hips at such a titillating speed, so deep. you were almost drooling—you wanted more, and more, and more. “right there, ‘s too good. fuck me right th—”

“don’t tell me how to fuck, princess.” he groans, making you lie back against the wooly arm of the sofa. his tone was so raspy and mean, you were aching each time he spoke to you.

toji’s favorite part was seeing your ass go back against him, it made him kiss his teeth everytime. the recoil.

your ass had him locked hard. just jouncing back against him. he pivots his hips before you moan once he starts to shift a bit.

“need to go deeper,” he groans, and you don’t know what he means before you feel him lean right up against you. you whimper, feeling the back of toji’s sock suddenly make contact with your neck.

“deeper ‘n deeper,” he huffs out, and you moan at the soft fabric brushing near your skin. he was fucking you with a foot pressed lightly against your neck. this angle—it was filthy.

if you weren’t drooling, then you certainly were now. he groans, each time you clamp down against him it makes his jaw tighten. “waited so long jus’ to have ya underneath me like this, baby.”

the more toji spoke, the more you disassociated. his dick did wonders.

each stroke had you gasping for air. his hits against you, the way he had his foot right by your neck. pretty lashes of your continued to flicker and flutter whilst he was fucking you insanely stupid.

“m-more, please. getting close, tojiiii.” and he finds it cute. the way you drag out your words in such a obscene way. he’s making jerk back and back against him—it elicits out the honeyed sounds from you.

“fuck back against me ‘n i’ll think about it,” he puffs out. you whine pathetically, making a cute attempt to move back against him.

it was barely any movement due to toji’s foot pressed up against your neck but you tried. he cackles roughly, teasingly sliding fingers down your back before cooing. “a for effort, baby. i’ll take it from here, yeah?”

and he does, like the true gentleman he was.

toji keeps you in that same position for a good thirty minutes until your legs were close to essentially giving out.

you came a lot, repeatedly. constantly.

over and over again until the word cum was forever the only existing word engraved into your dumb little brain. you were speechless, fundamentally losing track of your orgasms he gave you. you shuddered, each position making you covet for more. you didn’t want to stop.

not now, not ever.

“fuckin’ look at her grip on me so sloppy like,” he nips at his tongue, currently having you laid on your side. he pistons his dick in and out of you at such a tempo…it was so amorous.

he was referring to the way the strings of his and your own cum stringing together.

back and forth, so messy. he watched in awe, sliding his tongue amongst his lips before groaning. “can only imagine what our honeymoon would be like, sweetheart. i’d probably fuck around ‘n get you pregnant. maybe gift you with a kid or two.”

“t— toji,” you’d moan, and a rigid grip goes against your waist. whilst he was giving you vigorous shots from the side, you’re just hugging him tightly with your squelching walls.

the sounds your cunt made from its impact was so loud. it earned a hiss from him before he slowed his thrusts down. “do it.”

“silly girl,” he laments, a thumb stroking against the softness of your side. he was pumping you full of inches, you’re just taking it with your tongue lolled out—it felt so good.

each spot, he hit it deeply. the curve of toji’s dick, it had somewhat of an upward curve that made him reach a more thorough angle inside of you. “f-fuck, but ‘m gonna stuff you full again. ‘s that what you want? a plump pretty belly jus’ for me to see?”

you whimper, nodding your head ardently.

“use those words.” he huffs out, deepening his strokes against you. while feeling your ass jumar and clamp back by him. your walls hugged him solidly like a vice. it’s got his head spinning in circles, on a constant loop.

“give it to me t-toji, wan’ you to fill me up again,” you’d hiccup, and then he suddenly makes you lie down on your back. he gives you a smile, dark green irises staring right into you before he pulls out briefly—just before plugging himself back in.

toji swallows thickly, his jaw clenching steadfastly once he ends up cumming again. he poured such thick ropes into you.

it was warm. the way it trickled into you, he makes you grow quiet so you can hear it.

“…f-fuckin’ hell,” he husked, his head going back as he raises your leg up to give it a soft kiss. you milked him so good to where his voice started to become a bit more shaky. even a bit whiny.

toji stuttering was something new to you—and you’d be a liar if you said that didn’t turn you on. “take it all princess, saved all this jus’ for you….damn.”

he utters the last part underneath his breath, his abs flexing before he grabs ahold of his dick. it was swollen. throbbing from the stimulation before he pulled out again, this time smearing his cum all across your entrance. “always… always liked myself a messy girl.”

eventually, the two of you nearly ended up missing your own ceremony. dozens of guests came to show their support for the new soon-to-be wedded couple.

toji helped clean you up, as promised, not a damage was done to your costly dress.

the venue couldn’t have been anymore perfect. the surprise was a bit ruined figuring the two of you had seen each other right before the official wedding.

toji’s hair was a bit messed up. he runs his hands through it whilst the entire crow stands up once you start trodding your feet down the aisle.

that generic traditional wedding piano tune plays, and you’re walking with your father, the train piece of your wedding dress flowing down throughout each step.

toji has this gaze on you the entire time, hands buried in his pockets and his eyes linger. it made you nervous—something was telling you something, but you chose to ignore it. did you love him? or did you not?

once you finally made it up near the stand with toji, he grabs your hands with the most sleaziest grin. he strokes against your hands as the priest started to recite the same broad speech, “dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the holy union of…”

as he spoke, the two of you kept eyes on each other the entire time. toji towered over you, and he genuinely looked in love. he had a softness to his face, yet a smug look that never went away. your gut was telling you something—yet you couldn’t figure out exactly what.

the priest continued to speak before focusing his attention towards you. “do you take this man to be your husband, to live together, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health—forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“i do.” you mutter without hesitation.

the priest then turns towards toji before letting off a sigh, staring back into his book. “sir. do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health—forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

toji stares lovingly into your eyes, tilting his head before he leans up close to you—you’re caught by surprise once he kisses you early. it was a deep kiss, you kissed back, wrapping your arms around him before he pulls away.

yet before he can say, “i do,”

toji makes your heart come to a stop, murmuring out the fatal words against your lips, “sorry baby, i can’t.”

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #female reader #anime smut #tw sex

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lovebugism · 1 year

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Virgin!Eddie thoughts?

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure <3

( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.

It’s actually much, much weirder.

It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.

Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”

“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”

“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended.

He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.

Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day.

Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.)

But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.

“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”

You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of.

And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.

You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.

“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”

It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.

Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes.

He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.

He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).

He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.

“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade.

That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?

From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”

“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.

“I’m kidding, Eds—”

Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.

“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”

“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.

Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.

A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.

“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”

Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.

“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”

“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.

You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.

It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.

It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour.

He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.

It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.

He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.

It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.

There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.

“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.

Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”

“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”

“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”

You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Cross my heart.”

“Fine.”

“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.

It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.

And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.

It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”

And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.

He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high.

He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.

It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part.

Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that.

That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.

He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.

It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.

He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.

He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater.

“I can come over tonight, if you want.”

No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.

“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.

“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.

As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.

Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”

“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”

He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.

Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start.

So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.

Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer.

At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.

“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.

“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”

He’s never been normal a day in his life either.

Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.

It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?

Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.

Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.

Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”

He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.

He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.

You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.

He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right?

He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.

He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.

He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.

You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.

“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.

“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.

“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”

You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.

It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.

Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.

You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.

Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.

You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”

“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.

“Cross my heart.”

He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.

The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.

That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.

The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.

Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.

Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.

“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”

“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”

“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”

Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.

“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”

“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.

“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.

“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.’”

Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.

“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.

Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.

He’s as shocked as you are.

He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.

You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.

Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.

You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.

He never does.

He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.

The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.

Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.

Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”

Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”

“Maybe.”

“So what’s the answer?” you pry.

“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.

“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.

“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”

So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”

You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.

“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.

He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.

You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.

He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.

He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he’s doing it right.

His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.

Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.

But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.

It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.

Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.

Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.

For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.

A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.

He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.

“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.

“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his.

You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.

But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?

The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.

Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”

You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night.

Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.

“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”

It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.

Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth.

You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.

Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.

But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.

But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.

You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.

“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.

“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”

He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust.

You don’t need to know that, though.

“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson x reader #st oneshots <3 #published by bug

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soapskneebrace · 8 months

Text

a wake-up call

Pairing: John Price x f!Reader Rating: Mature Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: References to masturbation. References to sexual fantasy. More than likely far too many references to eye contact. Author’s Notes: I'm slowly recovering. This story will continue. Please enjoy. MASTERLIST Now on Ao3!

Three knocks on your front door wake you up.

The sound feels at first like the thump of your own throbbing brain against the inside of your skull. Awareness comes back to you slowly, in gradiated shades of stiff joints and greasy skin. You shift, and find you’re still on your couch, still in your clothes from last night. Your eyes are filmy, sticky with dehydration—you blink several times to clear them, to little effect.

The knocking, a three-beat staccato, comes again.

“One second,” you croak irritably, cupping your forehead with your hand. Your skull might come apart, you think, if you move too much.

Your entire body feels like it is suspended from loose, tangled marionette strings as you struggle to sit up on the couch, and you wobble to that effect as you stand. Somehow, your flat has tilted at thirty degree angle, likely sometime in your sleep. You make it to the door at an oblique, having to lean on the jamb as you open it, and to add insult to injury John is standing on your doorstep like a clean, shining beacon of sobriety.

He’s in a dark shirt and jeans. His hair is casually neat, as if he’d styled it with his fingers. He looks fresh-faced, as if he’s been awake for hours already.

“That’s not fair,” you groan.

His brows draw together over cool blue eyes. “Jesus, love,” he says, looking you up and down.

You think you should say something back. But your head is too full of ache and interrupted sleep—and the bright shock of his presence—to produce anything intelligent.

“John,” is all you say, and you sound absolutely pathetic.

“Was gonna accuse you of standing me up,” he says ruefully, “but I see that’s not the case.”

“No,” you say dumbly. The fact that he’s come to seek you out gets tangled up in the strings. “Um.”

It is so far out of the ordinary as to be dreamlike. John’s knocking belongs on the other side of your wall, not your door. His boots belong on his own doorstep, making room for your house slippers at the time of your choosing, not his.

“Am I still drunk?” you wonder aloud.

John gives that little huff-laugh of his. “I doubt it.”

You rub your face. “Have I overslept?”

“Just a bit,” he replies. “I’ll admit, when I didn’t hear you move around this morning, I got worried.”

“I fell asleep on the couch,” you confess. You put a hand to your forehead as your brain throbs again. “Oh, I shouldn’t have drank that much.”

“Love,” says John, gentle and soft, “why don’t you let me in, and I’ll make you some breakfast?”

You blink, and you’re sure now that you’re still drunk.

John. In your flat. Cooking?

“I’m not fancy in the kitchen, but I manage alright,” he suggests further. His gaze is warm on yours, brows lifted encouragingly.

“…Sure,” you say, and shuffle to the side to let him in. If this morning is determined to be strange, you might as well not get in its way.

He gives you a small smile and crosses the threshold.

Your flat shifts again; as he enters your living room, it seems to shrink, or maybe it’s just that John fills your home in a way no one ever has. His body, his presence, casts new light on the interior that throws its existence into unfamiliar repose. Details—the softness of your furniture, the cozy clutter of books and knickknacks spread across every available flat surface—offer unmeasured insight into who you are, more than you might ever have intended to reveal to John.

It’s only when he’s halfway to your kitchen that you realize one detail—the bright fucking pink of your vibrator, still on your coffee table—is glowing like a neon sign.

And your previous night’s activities come flooding back.

Your body, draped over his. The scrape of his beard on your hand, your face.

The furious grind of your mons against that toy as you pictured him taking you, drenched in hot shower water and pressed bare to the tile wall.

You are fully, painfully awake now. You stare, frozen in shocked terror, waiting for him to catch sight of it, but his head does not turn in its direction. He passes by it with no indication that he even noticed.

You dart over and snatch it behind his back, shoving it deep into your dress pocket, and grab up the empty water glass for an excuse. Then you have to put a hand to your head as your vision swims from the sudden movement.

“Have eggs?” John asks over his shoulder. He enters your kitchen. “I can make ‘em any way you like. Fried, over easy, sunny side…”

“Um,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut, “scrambled.”

You follow after him, and lean against the wall to watch as he opens your fridge. His hand engulfs more of its handle than yours ever has; the musculature of his powerful body visibly shifts beneath his clothes as he has to bend down to root around the shelves.

He is broad in your kitchen. As broad as he’d been between your legs, in memory and in fantasy.

You don’t realize you’re staring until he straightens and puts the eggs, butter, and milk on the counter. Your breath hangs suspended in the shallows of your lungs when he catches your gaze.

His brows crease again. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Um,�� you say, again, because it’s the only sound your brain will reliably supply.

To your horror, he comes to you, and—oh, god—takes your face in both hands.

“You’re warm,” he says. “Do you feel sick, love?”

Your brain supplies nothing now. It is so unfair, how good he looks the morning after drinking nearly half a bottle of scotch. His features are velvet-soft, so easy and wonderful to look at that you stop feeling your headache entirely.

“I really think I might still be drunk,” you admit, sounding pathetic.

His thumbs rub into your temples as he smiles at you. “Hell of a hangover, then.”

The pressure of his fingers is an incredible relief, and you close your eyes as you give into it. You feel, if your knees suddenly gave out, that he would easily be able to hold you up like this, as if you weighed nothing. His hands are a little cool from rooting around in your fridge, and the rest of him is warm, standing close enough that his body heat reaches out to you with the freshness of a recent shower. You want to fall into that warmth, bury your face in his chest…

Your eyes fly open. You hear your own voice again—I wanted to touch you, and I wanted you to hold me. You feel, again, the echo of his body between your thighs. Your heart starts beating wildly in your chest as embarrassment, hot and acidic, pumps through you.

“I think I need to sit down,” you whisper.

He strokes your temples, and surveys your face with a gentle gaze. “Sure, love. Go ahead.”

And then he releases you, and you try to remember how to walk as you return to your living room. There is no relief to be found as you sit down on your couch, which is indented by the dissatisfied night.

“How’d you sleep?” John asks from the counter. You hear him crack a few eggs into a bowl. This is the first time cooking has happened in your kitchen with you outside of it, and the cognitive dissonance of it does not help to steady you.

“Like the dead,” you say, rubbing your sore neck. Then, you decide to lie to him. “I—I think I passed out before the door even closed last night.”

John looks over his shoulder at you, and he smiles. The vibrator sits cold in your pocket. Are you imagining that glimmer in his eyes? “Wouldn’t be surprised. You were pretty out of it.”

“I didn’t end up drinking the whole bottle, did I?”

A chuckle. “Not quite.”

“Didn’t you drink as much as me?” You try to recall, and think you can remember him matching you glass for glass. “Why aren’t you out of commission?”

“The army never cares if you’re hungover, I’ve found,” says John. “Guess I learned to stop caring too.”

You hear the sizzle of whisked eggs spreading over a hot pan, and for a while there’s only the sound of John moving a spatula around.

You watch him in your kitchen, his back to you as he stands at the stove. His long-sleeved shirt clings to the breadth of his shoulders, planes of shifting muscle underneath casting shadows through the soft cotton. The collar hangs a little low down his neck, leaving enough room for the dark hair at his nape to curl as it dries.

It makes something in your stomach twist, twinning your nervous hunger with unstable desire. It’s something that wants to walk back into the kitchen and wrap your arms around his trim waist, press your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Want anything else?” John asks. “Could make some toast.”

“Eggs are fine!” you say too quickly.

The spatula scrapes softly against the pan again. As he turns to open your fridge, you swear you see him grinning.

Heat blooms across your face. SAS. Of course he could feel you looking at him.

It does not take him very long to finish cooking. Space bends once again as he leaves your kitchen, as he comes to you with a plate balanced on one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. You feel smaller than you ever have as he approaches, and sets the meal in front of you on the coffee table.

“Hope it tastes alright,” he says, sitting down beside you. He sinks into your couch cushions, far more dense than you are, and looks quite comfortable doing so. “I made ‘em how I like ‘em, but no guarantee you’ll feel the same.”

You look from him to the eggs, which are golden yellow and steaming pleasantly. “You didn’t make yourself anything?”

There is a softness in his eyes when you look back to him. You’ve seen it before—it’s there every time you hand him a new book. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. Just eat.”

You can’t protest when he’s looking at you like that, so you obey, suddenly ravenous once a forkful is between your teeth. The eggs are whipped to a wonderfully soft fluff, salted perfectly, and you think you can taste the barest hint of butter. You can’t help shutting your eyes to savor the taste.

“Good?” John asks. “I’ll admit, I’m not much of a cook, but I think I’m all right at eggs.”

Usually you like to add things when you make the same dish—potato chips, broken up into little crumbs, or a dollop of sour cream and salsa. For once though, right now you’d be disappointed by all that.

They wouldn’t be the eggs John made for you.

The thought makes your stomach twist again. “Delicious,” you say. “Thank you.”

He watches you eat, and you try not to feel self-conscious. He seems almost—satisfied by this, by feeding you, more than you would expect him to be. But then, this has always been the case with John. You have never understood why the smallest of things you do have such an impact on him, but they do nonetheless.

“John,” you say. “About last night…I wanted to apologize.”

Dark brows crease as you set the empty plate down. “What for?”

“I got so drunk,” you say. You won’t look at him, face heating, strangling your own fingers in your lap. “You—you had to carry me home, and I’m so embarrassed by the things I said, I was so inconsiderate.”

“That’s not—”

“You must have felt so uncomfortable,” you continue, “you were so nice to take me out, and there I was acting like a lush with no self-control—”

“Darling, it’s fine—”

“And then after, the way I—I pawed at you—”

He says your name—fully and clearly, firmly—and it catches you so off guard that your words halt in your throat. You finally meet his gaze.

John’s eyes have always been windows. Portals into the truth of him, freely offered, without hesitance or fear. You think John knows himself in ways few men do—knows every corner, every crack and crevice, and refuses to hide any of it from himself or anyone else. As if he is not afraid of being seen for what and who he is; as if he has seen it all already, and cannot be daunted by it.

What you see now is undisguised. Untempered. John Price wants you. And he has no fear that you can see it.

“Did you mean any of it?” he asks, voice low and deep in his chest.

The question catches you off guard, throwing you with its directness. The only thing keeping you upright is his gaze, the steady certainty of its own intention. Strong even under the weight of suspense.

You swallow, and take a shaky breath. “John,” you say, “I was so drunk...”

His eyes flash. John moves, leans forward, and you are speared, held in place much the same way you had been at dinner, by his presence alone. “I know. But did you mean it?”

The breath trapped in your lungs calcifies, solidifies into hard, pressing nodules of catalyzed fear and desire that trap the seeds of any response in your chest. You tear your gaze away from him, finally, stare at the empty plate on your table. He does not touch you, but you feel the phantom weight of his hand on your knee. The warmth of his body against yours.

“We hardly know each other,” you whisper shakily. It is a flimsy scrap of an excuse, even to you. “We—we barely know each other at all.”

“Love,” John says, low and soft. You turn to look at him again. His lips part—

Your phone rings.

You exhale hard, strings suddenly cut. John closes his eyes, breathes out, and then leans back again.

You retrieve your phone from where you’d flung your purse last night, off the couch and to the opposite wall where it lays on the floor. When you see the caller ID, you want to throw the phone back across the room, but you take a deep breath and answer anyway.

“Ben,” you sigh, and to your furious embarrassment it comes out as a croak.

“Hey, sweets, Liv is—wait. You sound awful,” comes your coworker—and ex-boyfriend’s—voice through the earpiece.

“Rough night,” you say, closing your eyes against sweets. You then look at John. His gaze is fixed on you.

“Oh, sorry,” Ben says. “Anything I can do?”

He could have not called. “Tell me about Liv,” you prompt him.

“Right! She’s out. Flu.”

“Oh.” You blink, and watch John retrieve your plate and glass. He takes them to the kitchen and runs the faucet low, so the sound won’t interfere with your call.

You’re not sure how you know that that’s his intention, but you do.

“That’s awful.”

“And inconvenient. We need another instructor for the trip.”

Can John hear what Ben is saying? He looks up from the sink, lifts one brow when you meet his eyes. There’s humor there, a kind of rueful empathy for dealing with the nonsense of coworkers.

You want to hang up. You want to answer his question right then and there.

“When?” you ask.

“Two hours. I know! I know it’s short notice,” he says, animatedly contrite. “Sorry. But we’d love to have you, it’ll be fun! I can even pick you up, if you like.”

“No, that’s alright,” you sigh. “But okay, I’ll start packing. Just send me the details, yeah?”

“Sure, sweets,” Ben replies, “can’t wait to see you! I’ve missed hanging out, you know? Even after…everything.”

The gravitational force of John’s presence—the shift and bend of your flat around him—snaps in half. Reality asserts itself like a recurring headache.

Suddenly you’re in your flat, phone to your ear, unshowered from last night and coated in a layer of grease. The vibrator is a useless weight in your pocket. You are a useless girl hungover in day-old clothes.

“I’ll see you soon,” you say noncommittally, and hang up.

John gazes at you expectantly from over the sink.

“Work trip,” you say, and you wonder if you sound as dazed as you feel. “Last minute, I…I need to get ready.”

John blinks, and then grins, amused. Crow’s feet gather in the corners of his eyes. “You know, I’m usually the one in that situation.”

Suddenly he is too much to look at. You tear your gaze away, look at your phone in your hands. You feel very exposed, ashamed somehow. “I’m sorry,” you say.

You hear the easy drum of John’s boots out of your kitchen, across the room, and then he’s in front of you. His hands are in his pockets, arms slung loose at his sides. “What for?”

“For…”

He steps closer to you. Your heart leaps in your chest, and you have to look up at him, unable to resist the pull he has on you.

The line of his mouth is gentle, and you stare too long at the divot of his Cupid’s bow. Beneath the soft lines of his brows, his gaze is soft, fond. More so than you deserve.

“I don’t really know.”

The long muscle in his neck shifts as he tilts his head. You swallow, unconsciously mirroring the gesture.

“John…I…”

His gaze drops—rests on your lips, and returns to yours.

“Love,” he murmurs, low and humming. “Did you mean it?”

His voice slides across you like physical touch, and every hair feels like it’s standing on end.

Yes. Yes, of course you meant it, every word. It feels so obvious to you, so blatant, and the shame of it holds you by the throat. You are not important enough to inflict upon John Price. You are trembling, meek, afraid of stepping outside your own door sometimes. What is that in comparison to him? Him, who comes home shaking off the dust of places you’ve only ever heard of. Him, who you’ve learned can swear in six different languages. Him, who has stuffed more life than you thought possible into only a handful more years of living than yours.

Of course you want him. Moths are always drawn toward flame. How could you not?

“John,” you say in your smallest voice. You hate the way it sounds—like an admission of guilt. “What if I did?”

He doesn’t move, but you see the shift in him anyway. A coiling, almost, energy banking as he studies you, searches your face. His hands remain in his pockets. He watches you for a long moment, and you can’t possibly imagine what he might like in what he sees.

“Ball’s in your court, then,” he finally says, soft and low in his chest. “Whatever you want from me, love, you can have.”

You want too much. You can’t give enough back.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” you say on a shallow breath. “Our—us. What we already have.”

He steps closer to you. Close enough that his shirt brushes the front of your dress. Close enough that his clean, soft warmth near-envelops you, the exact same way you’d been wishing for earlier. He does not reach out, like he did when he thought you were sick. You cannot decide if this disappoints you or not. You feel shaky without his hands on you, feverish and embarrassed, and you fear desperately that he can see that as he holds your gaze, that you are completely open to him in a way that leaves no space for the truth to hide.

“You won’t,” he says, steady and solid.

You take a trembling breath, swallow to clear your throat. “I…”

He withdraws one hand from his pocket, slowly, and brings it upward. Feather-light, he curls his index finger under your chin, caressing his thumb so terribly gently beneath your bottom lip. You cannot help flinching, anticipatory want recoiling from the very thing it was aching for in surprise, and for a split second you are newly scared that he’ll take his touch away.

But he doesn’t. The windows of John’s eyes stay open, and there is nothing but intent behind them. You realize he knows. He knows that you’re reluctant, that you’re unsure, that you are pulled to him like a falling star to earth and also terrified of burning up in the process.

He understands.

“I’m a patient man, love,” he purrs, and you realize too that he is excited by this, by you. “I can wait. As long as you need.”

PSA: For my own sanity this will be the last chapter I utilize the taglist. If you would like to know when this story is updated you may follow me, turn on my post notifications, or subscribe to the series on ao3. Thank you.

Taglist: @yeyinde @guyfieriii @aduckinpain @jaimiespn @aconstructofamind @trashy-panda777 @lich1 @smoggyfogbottom @antigonusyuki @bubble-dream-inc @itsthetiredstudent @misshoneypaper @wasteland-babe @jxvipike @deadbranch @yes-music-is-my-religion @hailstrum18 @ramadiiiisme @glassgulls @wiserebelpartypie @stripeycatt @staymetalmacie @capt-soaps-bbg @rdeville @diorstarr

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mcu-coworkers · 10 months

Text

You?

Summary: What you thought was your love story ended up being one cruel summer.

Word Count: 1k+

warnings: None really other than angry Miguel :I

A/n: amidst writing a part 3 for another story I got inspired by doctor strange and gave it a bit of a twist. Hope you guys like it!xx

Parts: One^ Two three Four

You had never seen Miguel so angry before.

Sure he was always short with everyone and never smiled other than to laugh at someone.

But when he did laugh, even if it was at someone, your heart couldn't help but skip a beat.

There were days when he’d call you into his office and ask you to update him on the spiders and the sectors they were handling and sometimes, if he was in a good enough mood, he’d ask about you.

Despite the mood swings, and his constant frown you wanted nothing more than to stand by his side and be there for all of it.

Peter B. though you were crazy for having feelings towards the coldest spider in the spider society but all things considered, he was probably right.

Only a crazy person would fall head over heels for someone who gave no sign of reciprocating feelings.

You had hope you’d get through one day.

That day definitely was not today.

You’d been caught up on a mission for the past couple of hours so you never responded to any of the comms. When you arrived back at HQ you were horrified by the mess.

You tried to ring Miguel but no luck, then you tried Jess, Ben, Gwen, shit, even Hobbie and still nothing.

Finally you were about to try Peter B. when he popped up behind you.

“You’re not gonna reach them, and honestly, I don’t think you want to.” he said as he held a very active May Day in his arms.

“What happened here?” you asked your voice barely above a whisper.

“ I ‘d tell you but maybe it's better if you just watch.” he said, pulling up all the camera footage.

And holy shit.

Suddenly you felt a lot worse about ignoring those comms from Miguel.

“Shit.” you cursed under your breath.

“Yeah, listen I should get going. Miguel will be back soon and I ‘m the last person he’ll want to see.” he said, opening a portal.

“Bye Pete, take care of yourself okay?” You said with a soft smile as he slowly disappeared into the portal.

Looking back at the paused footage you didn't know what to think.

You understood Miles, but you also understood Miguel.

But still, seeing the way he handled this and how out of hand he got made chills run down your spine.

You didn’t even want to think what would’ve happened had he gotten through the shield of the go home machine.

Lost in thought you never heard Miguel enter the room.

“Where the hell have you been?” you heard him yell as he walked up to you.

You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of his tone.

“On a mission you know that Miguel” you said trying to not anger him further.

“ I called you to come back, so where the fuck were you.” he wasnt letting up.

“Miguel I got the guy I -” you tried but he cut you off.

“When I say come back that means come back am I fucking clear?” he said, looking down at you.

You’d never felt so intimidated by him before, not even on the first day after being recruited.

“Yes sir.” was all you could manage to say.

Finally he stepped back and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

“Lyla pull up the records of the go home machine and tell me where it sent him.” He said turning his back to you.

You could hear the distress in his voice so you thought of a way to help.

Walking up to him with caution you put a hand on his shoulder, “Miguel, Maybe you need to take a step back let someone else handle it.” you suggested.

“Yeah? Who?You? Thats a fucking joke. You could barely handle a stupid villain, you’ll never catch this kid.” he snarled, shrugging your arm off.

Taken back by his statement you felt a heavy weight on your chest.

“Miguel-” you tried but again you were cut off.

“What are you gonna say some inspirational shit? Tell me you're here to help?hm?” he asked, turning back to you.

“Yes, Miguel, I am here for you, always. But this, this is mania. Some things can't be fixed by yourself. ” You said the weight on your chest felt heavier.

When he stayed quiet you took it as a sign to keep going.

“Maybe this is a sign to consider stopping, look at how much of a toll this is taking on you.” you urged the man was grasping for straws at this point if they didn't find Miles he’d be lost.

“This is my life's work, there is no me without the multiverse.” he exclaimed, turning away from you.

“There are so many things that give your life meaning, that could give your life meaning.” you suggested, realizing what that last part sounded like you felt your face heat up.

Shit.

He stopped his pacing and turned to you, “Like what? You?”

Suddenly you felt your world come crashing down. You had nothing left to lose.

“Yeah. Me.” you said barely above a whisper.

“You care so much don’t you? You think I want your pity? That I need you?”he said aggressively.

“ I have never pitied you.”you snapped back.

“Good, because I don't need it. And I don't need you.” and with that he turned back around leaning on his desk.

You had nothing left for him. Or the spider society.

“Goodbye, Miguel.” was all you said before you walked out of the room and opened the portal to go home, for good.

“That was a bit rough for someone you like, don't you think?” Lyla asked, watching Miguel as he looked over to the door you walked out of.

He decided to focus on one thing at a time, Miles now you later.

He knew you’d come back and when you did, he’d fix it.

If there was something he could fix in this fucked up world it was the mistakes he made with you.

“The files Lyla.” he said changing the subject.

Sighing, Lyla gave him what he wanted and left.

She didn't have the heart to tell him that you left your watch and your suit at HQ.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #spider-man 2099 #spiderman #across the spiderverse

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moonlightspencie · 29 days

Text

Meet-Cute

Description: It's all in the title, isn't it?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1k

On a Saturday morning after a night of drinking, the last thing you personally cared for was to be awoken by the loudest noise on earth. Some terrible creaking sound, mixed with thuds that seemed to resound in your apartment every thirty seconds had you practically developing a stress-induced twitch as you laid in bed.

To put it nicely: you were at the end of your rope.

You begrudgingly got out of bed, roughly washed your face, angrily brushed your teeth, and stomped to your door. You may not usually be prone to dramatics, but you felt it necessary for your well-being this time. You opened your door, about to confront your terribly noisy neighbor, when you realized that it was someone moving in.

You wanted to be angry. You really did. But…

“Hello,” said a man who you could only describe as genuinely tall, dark, and handsome. He also looked a little surprised.

You wiped the scowl off your face. “Hi.”

He looked around, as if the answer for you standing in your doorway in pajamas, looking quite annoyed, would appear out of thin air. It didn’t. You realized as much about thirty seconds later as you finally started speaking.

“Sorry. Are you moving in?”

"Oh! Yeah," he breathed out a small laugh. God he was handsome. "I apologize for the noise.”

You shake your head. “No! No, that’s okay. Just… curious.”

He smiled a little and you tried not to melt on the spot. He reached his hand out in greeting.

“I’m Aaron.”

You shook his hand, trying not to stare at him as you gave him your name.

“Nice to meet you,” you said softly.

“You, too. Uh… I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, nodding at the box under his arm.

“Of course!” you nod quickly. “Right. Um… I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

You went back to your apartment, shutting the door behind you with a little grin. So much for staying determined to be grumpy and less than pleasant today.

It was, unfortunately, two weeks later before you saw him again. This time as you were checking your mailbox in the lobby. As you heard someone clear their throat, you muttered a small apology, stepping out of the way as you looked through the letters in your hand.

“Um… hi,” he offered as a greeting that made you jump a little bit. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Just wanted to say hello."

You looked up at the voice that was irritatingly smooth, finding yourself getting a bit warm in the cheeks when you noticed him giving you almost a shy smile. You turned towards him more to give him your full attention.

"Oh, gosh. Uh, sorry," you chuckled softly, returning his smile. "Guess I'm not very good at being neighborly, am I?"

"You're doing just fine. I'm sure it might be a little... maybe off-putting to have a strange man approach you in the lobby, now that I think of it."

You shook your head. “It’s not that at all. I’m just… not used to people approaching me here at all.”

“Not exactly social?”

“More like nobody else here is. I don’t mind a little company,” you replied, a little more flirty than you were intending.

Clearly he didn’t mind.

“Good to know,” he nodded once with a growing smirk.

“Uh…” you clammed up a tiny bit. “So… Um, are you, like, new around here?”

“Only to this building. I’ve been in D.C. for too many years to count,” his smirk melted into a softer smile. “Just needed someplace new, I guess. My old apartment… I just needed a change of scenery.”

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I’ve been there,” you nodded softly. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s great. My son loves it here.”

Your brows raised a little. “You have a son?”

“I’m shocked you didn’t file a complaint last night with the tantrum he threw,” he chuckled a tiny bit.

“I was out last night, so no worries here.”

“Oh? With friends, or…?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little more. “Yeah. Just a couple of girlfriends.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Maybe too much fun.”

“You get up to a lot with them?” he asked casually, though not without humor, crossing his arms over his chest.

You smiled. “Only on occasion. I don’t think I could really handle the way they go out practically every single night. I only agree to go out like that with them once a month.”

“Now you’re sounding a little too much like me for someone so young and pretty.”

You find your cheeks warm at that, though you try not to react outwardly. You could tell that he knew just how much he had affected you, though. If you didn’t know any better, you might guess he was a mindreader.

“I think you make yourself out to be too boring for someone so friendly and handsome.”

He laughed a little at that. Then a comfortable silence falls over the both of you for a moment. Maybe two moments. Eventually, you shift your weight, and look back up at him again. He really is horribly handsome. A guy shouldn’t be able to look like that, and… God, he smelled good, too. You shuffled the mail in your hands a little bit before speaking again.

“Uh… Well, it was nice chatting with you, but unfortunately I do have to go clean my apartment. Family is coming over tomorrow,” you said softly. “I’ll see you around, though, yeah?”

“Yes, that sounds… sounds good. Maybe if you end up wanting some of that company you were talking about, we could get dinner some time?”

You couldn’t help a giddy smile sneaking onto your face. You nodded easily, glancing at his hand as he shut your mailbox for you near your head.

“I could come knock on your door some time soon and invite you properly, if you’d be alright with that,” he said, that little smirk sneaking back onto his face.

“I’d like that.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fic #gender neutral reader

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feirceangel · 5 months

Text

Imagine | Harassed (Shanks)

Imagine doing some shopping when a strange man won’t leave you alone.

Warnings: some violence, reader is harassed and threatened, reader is a badass

Word Count: 1143

(Not my gif)

You couldn’t remember the last time you stayed on an island this long. It must’ve been years ago, long before you met him.

Traveling had always been a desire of yours. To traverse the world, discovering different cultures and landscapes, that was your dream.

And you’ve been living it gratefully for years.

Of course, it’s always nice to spend more than a few days ashore once you have the opportunity.

Your Captain has business on this tropic island, and you’ve been enjoying the leisure time that this gives you.

Right now, you’re shopping at the local markets, admiring the bright jewelry and clothing that the various vendors offer.

A raucous laugh sounds off behind you. You ignore it, minding your own business, even as you hear a loud whistle.

“Hey, pretty lady,” a man’s voice says.

You continue ignoring it, instead reading the price of a beautiful red jewel.

This apparently aggravates the man trying to get your attention. He grabs your shoulder roughly, expecting it to be easy to turn you towards him.

You remain in place, stronger than the man anticipated.

After he removes his hand, you turn to him with a frown, “May I help you?”

He’s a tall man in a nice suit, not too shabby looking. Too bad his personality is rotten. Behind him are five more men in similar fashion. You take clear note of the weapons strapped to their sides.

“I was talking to you,” he growls. “I don’t like being ignored.”

“I don’t like being hassled,” you retort, crossing your arms.

“I was just saying how gorgeous you are,” he explains with a slimy grin.

You turn on your heel, “Thanks.”

“Hey!” He shouts, getting closer to you so that you can feel his breath. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Do you know who I am?” You ask pointedly.

“You’re a pretty piece of ass that needs to be taught a lesson,” he scowls, stepping back. “And we’ll gladly be your teachers.”

Disgust washes over you.

“Are you trying to hit on me? Because you’re doing a poor job of it. And you’re wasting your breath- I’m already taken.”

“I could take you better than he ever could,” he tries to argue.

Your laughter is impossible to hold back, “You’re delusional, you aren’t even near his level. You should stop talking now.”

A smirk forms on your lips as you watch the man shake with anger. His eyes are alight with rage at being shot down and humiliated in front of his friends.

Meanwhile, you’ve mentally checked out, comparing the red of the jewel to your man’s hair. He loves seeing you in his colour.

A loud click goes off near your ear, the kiss of cold metal on your temple a warning not to move.

“You’re gonna regret speaking to me like that.”

You step back from the market stall, shooting an apologetic look towards the owner. The poor girl looks terrified.

One of the man’s lackeys has pulled his gun on you, standing much too close for comfort.

Unimpressed, you shake your head, “How immature.”

“I’m going to-“

He stops as a malevolent aura suddenly appears, causing sweat to form on his brow.

“What exactly are you going to do?” A deceptively calm voice speaks out, followed by footsteps as a red-haired man approaches.

The man in front of you has gone paler than a corpse, shaking just like the man holding the gun against your head.

“Red-Haired Shanks,” a man near you whispers in terror.

They seem to be grasping the situation now. Although, you could have handled the situation just fine on your own.

You smile at your man, who raises a quizzical brow.

“These guys bothering you?”

Before you can reply, the hassler interrupts, “Please, sir we had no idea-“

A gunshot rings out and the gun pressed against your head suddenly falls as the man collapses in a display of bright red blood.

Infuriated, you kick out, knocking the guy to the floor next to his dead buddy.

“Shut up. You should have respected me regardless of who I associate with,” you deliver a harsh kick to his side before pressing your foot on top of his chest.

“Scum like you are less than worms to me,” you grit out, adding more pressure until you hear a sickening crack of a broken rib and the man cries out in pain. “You never know when to quit.”

You reach out a hand towards Shanks and he hands you his sword without hesitation. None of this dimwit’s posse do anything to try and help their leader.

They know it’s a battle they could never win.

With a graceful flick of your wrist, the man below you is impaled through the heart. A clear message to anyone watching.

You fix your gaze on the remaining losers, “Don’t harass people, okay?”

They nod profusely, muttering nonstop apologies as they retreat quickly.

You crouch down to wipe the blood off of Shank’s sword, handing it back with a smirk.

“Darling,” he sheathes his weapon, moving closer to you and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was stunning.”

“Shanks, I was handling it just fine before you showed up,” you say, passing a glance over his shoulder to offer a smile to Benn Beckman. “But thanks for the assist anyways.”

“I know, but you know how I get seeing someone get so close to you,” Shanks says, looping his arm around your shoulders. “Especially when they threaten what’s mine.”

You grin, pressing your lips against his and nipping at him playfully.

“Why didn’t you deal with them sooner?” He inquires once you break away.

“Maybe I wanted to play the part of the damsel for once,” you tease. “Seeing you all protective and possessive gets me riled up.”

“Vixen,” he laughs, “You knew I was watching.”

“I always know, Shanks,” you wink at him. “Just like I know you’ll buy this for me.”

You show him the jewel that perfectly matches the shade of his hair.

He laughs, handing the money over to the shopkeeper, “I could never deny you, Y/n.”

He embraces you again and you lean into his warmth, inhaling the familiar scent of sake and sea breeze.

“I think I’ll have it made into a ring, that way everyone will know you’re mine.”

The grin that breaks onto your face is enough to brighten his whole lifetime.

He hugs you closer and presses a chaste kiss to your head.

He’d never let anyone else touch his treasure, he’d destroy anyone if they tried.

But he also knows you can fend for yourself, one of the many qualities that he adores about you.

You take his hand, leading him down the market, “Now you’re stuck shopping with me~”

He can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

#female reader #imagine #reader insert #x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #shanks x reader #shanks #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #one piece imagine #one piece shanks #op #op x reader #red haired shanks x reader

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

virgin patrol

2.9k / dark!Joel Miller x f!reader /master

he could be doing anything with his left hand here 🥵

CW/Notes: he's a creep!, dubious consent, virginity loss, unsafe P in v, violence (NOT joel vs. reader). I8 + mdni. same reader from Patrol. loosely edited.

You pull your arms into your jacket. It’s colder than the first time you patrolled with Joel.

"Damn it's freezing," Joel says. "Ya know, we really helped each other last time up in the shack." He tugs on the flaps of his trapper hat. "Felt good too, didn’t it?”

Against all odds, you were hoping somehow this wouldn’t come up. It sounds like the sick charade is fading, at least. No point in pretending it was just to stay warm. You don’t acknowledge him.

“I know you’re cold, darlin’. Why don't we go on up and take a break now?"

You remain silent.

"We can help each other. . . Got somethin' you're gonna like up there, too." You can only imagine what.

Your face is so numb you can barely get the words out. "I think . . I'm okay. I'm. . . not that cold."

"Suit yourself," Joel says and starts heading toward the shack alone, cruelly taking one of the blankets with him.

"You're gonna leave me here alone?"

"Sure. You've had training. You'll be alright. Come get me in an hour. We’ll switch off." He starts walking away, then calls back, "Or you’re welcome to join!"

Last time, he got you naked under the pretense of huddling for warmth, gave you an orgasm with his hand, then convinced you to keep his most precious appendage warm with your mouth. You managed to get your assignments shifted away from his zone until now. You don't want to be alone with him in the shack, but you really don't want to be alone on this windy hill with a rifle you can barely fire. You're not sure you can fire it at all with your hands this cold.

"Wait," you say. "I'm coming."

He stops in his tracks and he turns enough that you can see half his face, enough to see his self-satisfied smile. "You sure? You really wanna help each other." His words make your stomach turn, but against all logic, you're also tingling between the legs and not from the cold. Physically, he made you feel really good that one time, and your body seems to remember. But it felt so. . .dirty. So dirty and strange the way he went about it. He’s a creep.

Your heart sinks. "I, um. . ."

You're fighting with yourself, thinking it over when both of you hear something down the hill. It's three men headed your way and they look like trouble.

"Shhh," Joel says, and you're relieved that he doesn't keep walking up to the shack. He's more than capable of taking care of these guys himself. Your heart swells with appreciation for him. Maybe you’ve been too hard on him in your mind.

"You remember how to aim and shoot, right?" He whispers to you, no sign of getting his own rifle ready. Your heart drops.

"You're not gonna shoot them??"

"Well I'd love to, darlin', but it can't just be me doin' everything or you'll never finish learnin’. Be right up there if ya need help." The men are getting closer. One of them notices the two of you and starts to load his gun.

"Joel, help, please!"

He looks at you, intrigued by your plea. "We've gotta help each other though, right?"

"Please, I'll do anything. Anything"

"Anything…" he takes his rifle off his back and sighs.

The men are climbing up the ridge. Joel points and shoots one of them in the forehead with an instant kill shot. But he doesn't continue shooting. One of the men fires at the two of you and misses.

"Anything?" He says. "Cause I wouldn't want these men to take you."

You can't even remember how to shoot. Even if you could, you're too numb and distracted to take a good shot.

"Yes, anything." It feels like a tiny price to pay in exchange for your life.

Joel aims and takes out a second man in one shot without flinching. Then he pauses again.

"You're gonna take it like a good girl for me, aren't ya?" The lack of pretext startles you.

"Y-y-yes." Your heart might beat out of your chest.

"You don't sound too happy 'bout it." The last man fires and it's a near miss.

"Yes, yes!"

Joel aims at the last man, and the man falls to his knees begging for his life. Joel shoots him in the head without even blinking much less saying a word. And just like that, all three of them are dead. It was a piece of cake for him. He gathers their weapons. Joel carries their guns over his shoulder and hands you their knives.

"Let's go then," he says flatly.

"Aren't you worried there are more of them?"

Joel's eyes narrow, scanning the horizon then he adjusts himself in his pants. "We'll just have to keep an ear out."

He can't get you into that shack soon enough.

Joel is already unbuckling his belt as he leads you into the shack. You try not to look at him. Your body is buzzing with its own heat from the near-death experience. But even without the adrenaline, you have to admit the shack would be far more tolerable than the ridge. There's no wind.

"Hey," he turns around and stops you, standing there with his belt undone. He cups your cheek. "You're alive, darlin'." Yeah, you have that going for you. He smiles with a twinkle in his eye.

He puts down the guns and walks to the forlorn couch, his belt jingling ominously with each thud of his boot.

“See what I got for us?”

He holds up the corner of a bigger, thicker blanket. Your eyes widen. It looks like such a luxury compared to the one you've been huddled under.

“Thought you’d like it.” He’s pleased with himself, but he’s a jerk for keeping it up here.

He takes off his trapper hat and smoothes his hair. Then he starts undressing and you look away.

"Go on now, take off your pants. Then under the blanket. We’re gonna get real warm...”

True to your word, you’ll do what he wants. You begin removing layers and watch his face change as he sees you in just your underwear, and his voice lowers, too.

“Sure are pretty, aren't ya,” he says.

You get on the couch and climb under the blanket.

“Come on now, don't be shy. Take’em off.”

You take off your bra and panties.

“Good girl. How ‘bout a drink?” He hands you a bottle of whiskey and looms over you shirtless. You study his scars. There are two longer slashes on his right side, one across the outside of his pec down his ribs and one closer to his pants. He drops his jeans to the ground and steps out of his long underwear. He stands before you naked, already aroused. His arms flex as he tenses them near his crotch then rubs his hands together in an exaggerated display of how cold he is. He looks at you like a hot cup of coffee.

You scoot over to the back edge of the couch, practically falling into the seam, and Joel slides under the blanket. Then he coaxes you halfway on top of him. His hard cock presses into your hip and sends a pang of desire between your legs. When you settle onto his warm chest, your whole body gets a rush of heat. You both have on socks.

He mercifully allows a few minutes for the two of you to just lie there. In that time, he’s getting harder and harder, and you're getting wet. Then he adjusts your body, bringing you further on top of him for full contact and his hips begin to move, grinding his arousal into one side of your lower abdomen.

He looks down and lifts your chin with his finger, then quietly announces, "I'm gonna put myself inside ya, darlin'. And I think you're gonna like it."

"But, I - I don't think I can."

"Oh you can, you can." He slides his hand over your ass and down to your pussy and feels your wetness. "Mmmm. You can, baby."

"It's too big," you protest. You felt like it barely fit in your mouth.

"Let's get you ready then," he replies. He bends the knee you're not on top of to make room for his hand between your bodies. Then he slides his middle finger into you and his cock swells even harder. "Mmm."

He adds a second finger as he grinds himself against you. His fingers already make you feel full, but they're nothing compared to his thick cock.

"I need ya, darlin," He pants, then adds a third finger. "Need your help real bad. . ."

The third finger is at a rough angle and you feel his nail. "Ouch!"

"You're okay. You're okay." He curls his thick digits and reaches as far into you as he can with them, then mercifully removes the third.

"Ah, fuck," he breathes as he ruts against you. The horny sound of his voice makes your clit throb, even as your pussy recovers from his third finger. "I think you're ready for me, darlin'. . ." He removes his other two fingers and eases you onto the couch as he gets out from under you. The blanket goes with him, leaving you cold and exposed. He sucks his fingers clean then wraps his hand around his cock. "Nice n' wet for me, hmm?"

He takes hold of your hips and coaxes you onto your back. "There ya go. Won't be cold for long." Then his free hand nudges your thighs apart, and the cold air hits your wet pussy. He scoots between your legs.

You've made peace with it. You're as ready as you'll ever be. He puts his large, veiny hand on your mound with his thumb at your clit "You're beautiful," he whispers to your pussy.

Then he nestles the swollen head of his cock at your slick entrance. Your breath hitches in fear but your lower belly flutters with desire. It's bigger than three fingers but also smoother, rounder, and hopefully more comfortable.

“Ready?” He takes a deep breath.

You bite your thumb and nod.

He begins to push his imposing manhood into you, and it feels surreal, like your body is slowly being divided. Just the tip of him is already plugging you right like a bottle of wine.

And then there's a sound outside.

You gasp, and Joel covers your mouth. Your eyes are wide and your breath is wet against his palm.

Joel pulls out the smidgen of him that was inside you and whispers in your ear, “sit tight for me, baby.” He pulls on his jeans in a hurry, zips them up, no time to button, but his engorged member helps keep them up despite his belt hanging there heavily, unbuckled. He steps into his unlaced boots and throws a jacket over his bare chest, then pulls on his trapper hat and puts on his rifle. He looks. . . Hot.

A low voice speaks outside. Your heart races. "They're in there," the voice says. "You go around."

Joel walks to the door and holds up a finger to his mouth as though to say "shhh." You pull the blanket up around you.

He opens the door and shoots his gun right away. A man yelps and someone returns fire. It sounds like there are at least three of them. You scramble to put on your clothes and grab your rifle. You pull on your pants and meanwhile you lose track of how many gunshots are fired. A man bursts through the back door and yells "THERE'S A GIRL!" Then approaches you. You don't have your shirt on yet. The man grabs you by the elbow and forces you up to your feet. He has a knife in his hand.

After two more shots fired outside, Joel bursts back through the door and yells, "STEP AWAY, NOW!"

The man raises his hands in surrender. Joel disarms him, putting the knife in his pocket, then walks him out of the cabin. You hear screaming, then the man begging for his life, then gurgling, then a gunshot.

Your heart races. A second later, you could have been dead.

Joel returns to the shack and closes the door behind him. You can’t seem to slow your heart rate back to normal.

It turns out you've actually never seen anything hotter than Joel Miller standing there in his unlaced boots, his unbuttoned pants still largely held up by the bulge beneath them but still sagging enough to reveal a peek of pubic hair. His strong, bare chest heaves. There's a little blood splatter on his jacket. The rifle strap across his chest really completes the look. He takes off the rifle and jacket. When he removes his trapper hat, oh god, his mess of gray and silver hair - he looks so, so good. You feel something happening inside you, your body opening up, making space for him. Thankfully, he doesn't smooth his hair this time.

He’s still catching his breath, amped up from the gun fight and anxious to get back in your pants.

"C'mon now, where were we?" He palms himself as he unzips his jeans and his hard cock springs free as he lets them fall to the floor. All his muscles are bulging from the fight. His chest is red from the cold.

He hovers over you, and from the look on his face, you must seem terrified, perhaps even more than you are. "It's okay baby they're gone." He pulls the blanket off, tugs your pants down, then removes them. "They're all gone," he repeats. You're naked again, and he looks your body over. His thick, messy hair makes his dark eyes look so intense.

He wets his lips as he gets between your legs again. He's in a better mood now. He hovers over you and dips his head down to kiss and suck a nipple with his fingers lightly pinching the other one. "Prettiest girl I ever saw."

He feels between your legs and you're even wetter than before. "Good girl. Ready for me?"

"Yeah," you nod, and this time you kinda are.

You watch the veins on his neck as he notches himself at your entrance and begins to push. You wince at the massive stretch of his girth. Your eyes drift to his muscular arms. He doesn't wait. He pushes further, harder. He plunges into you as far as he can and your insides scramble to get out of the way.

"Ahh," you whimper and your eyes sting.

"You're alright, darlin."

You look at the ceiling and breathe. It's exactly as big and hard as you knew it would be. It feels impossible.

"Look at me, beautiful." You can't.

"Look at me," he repeats, and his hand on your jaw forces you to.

"You're gonna take it like a good girl, aren't ya?"

You nod and your eyes drift to his hair again.

He pulls back a couple of inches then thrusts his stiff length into you hard with a grunt, but still doesn't make it all the way. You're too tight. You can't help it.

"Relax for me, baby."

He pulls back a little, then plunges into you again, finally bottoming out with a sigh. You never imagined you could feel so full. As your body adjusts, you marvel at the feeling. Your walls are still fighting the intrusion, squeezing him, trying to push him out. And he lets it an inch at a time, but his cock is easily winning. It always reclaims its territory.

"Good girl," he says. He pulls back and slams in, to the hilt again. "Yeah," he whispers as he slowly retreats. "Just like that," as he fills you up again.

He pulls back slowly then briskly slams all the way into you. Each time he buries himself inside you, it feels a little better. You stop pushing him out at all. After a minute or two, your body allows him a regular rhythm. He looks at you with a new expression, sighs, and slows down but doesn't stop.

Catching you off guard, he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You freeze, then he pulls back and says "gimme some sugar." You accept his mouth and he kisses you hard and long. Something flutters in your chest. He pulls away then ramps up the intensity of his hips and begins to pound you, grunting each time his balls hit your ass. It starts to become too much.

After another minute, his face gets dark, angry. It scares you. You worry that he's upset with your body starting to reject him. He pulls out and lowers his head, looking up at you as he pumps himself. Then he shoots his warm load all over your tired seam with a long sigh.

"Wasn't so bad, was it, beautiful?" He starts thumbing your clit. "Now I'll help you back."

You don't really feel like it, though, you're just spent.

"Um. Maybe next time," you say, not realizing what you've implied until his face lights up.

"Any time you want."

He moves to lie down next to you and you make space. Then he lets you fall asleep on his chest until the shift is almost over.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! 🖤

Please check your content settings!!

OTHER VIRGINITY LOSS by me

series: Left in Lincoln (outbreak dbf)

one shots: night talks, Just the tip, Virgin sex worker.

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy

@tonysterco

@dark-scape the hair is for you

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #dark!joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #creepy!joel #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal #creepy!joel miller #dark!joel #pervy!joel miller #pervy!joel #patrol!Joel☠️#toxicanonymity ☠️#virginity loss #virgin!reader #pedro pascal smut

2K notes · View notes

loveswrites · 10 months

Note

Poly cullen angst to fluff? Pls and thank you🤭

Rainy Road Poly Cullens x Reader

Time it took me: 4 hours ( btw loves I acc finished it in the same day just now)

Word count: 2143

To anon: I'm sure I met your angst but I don't think I met much else *wink* There will be a part two if you guys want I'm sure you will <3

Love <3

“Stop.” Edward said, watching you plainly.

Currently you were practically skipping on and off the border line of the werewolves territory and the Cullens territory. Edwards' tone kinda upset you. You were only trying to lighten the mood because ever since you got into the car his energy was just off. Seth had called you saying he wanted to hang out so you asked Edward to drive you because bella being the blood daughter got the car and you got a maybe next year. Downsides of being adopted.

You were standing at the border because the rest of your mates wanted to talk to you before you went to hang out with Seth. They liked Seth so you didn’t understand why they just couldn’t wait to talk to you later.

But they said they couldn’t wait that long. You thought about it and the only times they've acted like this is when they're about to surprise you with something. Or if they feel like they hadn’t been treated fairly as in quality time. And last you check you’ve spent equal time with them all separately and together. So it wasn’t that so it had to be a surprise right?

“Are you in one of your emo moods right now?” You asked genuinely curious. That seemed to only upset him more because he didn’t talk the whole time until the rest of your mates arrived.

It didn’t take them as long as you thought that it would. You thought they were gonna drive in their cars like Edward did but they didn’t. They walked or ran or whatever. Edward made you get back into the car while you were waiting because it started raining. Of course It was still raining when they arrived, it's Forks after all. But that didn’t stop you from smiling and getting out of the car when you saw the rest of your loves. Hopefully you could sneak some more insight on why Edward was in a pissy mood.

The closer they got to the car the more you practically bounced with excitement. You had missed them even though you saw them only two days ago. Too long according to the beat in your heart. As you tapped your feet in the rain puddles you couldn’t help yourself from letting out a squeal of excitement. Running up to the closest person you could reach. That being Jasper, you jumped in his arms. The sound of the car door opening and closing fell numb to your ears. And sadly so did the sound of the car driving away.

The sound of thunder rang through your ears making you jump, scaring you a little. But something you noticed didn’t happen was the feeling of that fear going away immediately. It stayed. Jasper always felt like home but something was wrong. Something was different.

“You didn’t wrap your arms around me?” You said furrowing your eyebrows. Looking at Jasper you watched as the rain melted his hair against his face. His beautiful wet curls dripped with the wetness of rain. You would eat him right here right now if he wasn’t being so strange right now.

He didn’t answer, he just stepped back away from you. You shifted your eyes behind him to look at the rest of your mates. Rose was clinging onto Emmett’s arm next to Rose was Carlisle and Esme then there was Edward.

“Wasn’t Alice just here? Wait a minute, where's the car?” You asked, looking around in confusion. When you turned around there was no car, just an empty wet road. Something was totally wrong.

“What’s going on?” You questioned. It took a while for anyone to say a thing. Just when you were about to repeat yourself Carlisle spoke up.

“We need to talk.” He said.

“Well I knew that much dummy, But why couldn’t we just talk later? It’s raining and I’m supposed to be hanging out with Seth.” You said with a soft smile trying to ease your nerves. You don’t remember the last time you did this by yourself all on your own. Jasper would always be there to ease your feelings or stress. Even though you would say no he’d never listen. He would always catch a rise in your stress before you did and calm you down.

“We're leaving.” Carlisle said. You noticed that his hair took a little longer to melt against his face unlike Jasper.

“Ooo okay where are we going this time, tokyo? I’ve always wanted to-” You said getting excited again but you were quickly cut off by Esme.

“Without you.” She said looking at you for a little then she turned her head away. Her statement made the smile drop from your face as quickly as it came.

“What? What do you mean? How long are you going to be gone?” You questioned with your eyes shifting in between your six mates. This felt all so sudden, what happened in those two days you weren’t together?

“Forever. There’s nothing here for us in Forks anymore.” Emmet said breaking your heart with every single word.

“But I’m here..” You said as your voice cracked mid sentence. You could feel the knot in your stomach get tight and tighter. You didn’t know how to handle this. So you did the only thing you know how to do. You turned to Jasper.

“Jasper s-stop it! Tell me this is all just a big cruel joke and you're not leaving, You're not leaving me.” You practically begged. Walking towards him you moved your hands up to touch him but he brushed you off. He pushed your hands away so swiftly and he stared you in your eyes. They were cold. No emotion was found. You tried your best to find something, anything. But there was nothing found.

“I don’t love you, I never did. I ask that you please refrain from touching me.” Jasper said sternly. Your heart dropped lower and lower with every word that fell from his mouth.

“Stop lying! I know for a fact that you're all in love with me. So much that your cold dead hearts beat for me!” You yelled out as you wiped the rain and tears from your eyes.

“We have no reason to lie. It wouldn’t bring any gain on our end to lie.” Edward said plainly as if this was all a fact.

“You were just a family pet. Why would we ever associate ourselves with a useless human as yourself? You can’t even control your own emotions. You forget to even feed yourself. What simple creature does that? You struggle to speak simple words, you can’t comprehend anything. And you cling onto us like we're a free ticket out of here. We’ve never loved you. We’ve never even wanted you.” Rosailse said, making the first tear drop down your cheek. You bit your bottom lip hard in attempts to prevent yourself from full on crying.

“Rose and I just thought why not join in on the family fun for once? We always kept to ourselves and now I understand why, you weren’t much fun to play with in the first place. We're done.” Emmett said and before you could say another thing they were gone.

“W-wait!” You coughed out as a steady stream of tears ran down your face mixing with the rain.

“I will say you spiced up me and Carlisle’s marriage a little bit. But you were never enough. Seeing how young you are, you should’ve known that you were never going to be more than just a temporary toy for us.” Esme said, grabbing Carlisle's hand. Your eyes couldn’t help but shift down to her action. The simple action of touch pained your heart so much you couldn’t stop the sound of your cry coming out your mouth.

“Forget about us. Move on. It will be best for you if you did so. You meant nothing to us. I’m sorry I let it go on this long.” Carlisle said, gripping onto Esme's hands. And just when you took a step towards them they were gone.

“No no no-” You were cut off by a gasp of your own. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. It hurt. It hurt so bad. You felt like your soul had been shattered into a thousand grains of sand that would never be made into a beautiful beach again. You felt like you’ve just turned into a dry desert.

“It hurts Jasper, it hurts.” You cried out. You were sure your eyes were bloodshot red right now. The mix of tears and rain was not a good combination.

“You should have never gotten attached. It took everything in me not to just drain you dry of your blood but I couldn’t. So I chose the next best thing. It wasn’t as good as it would’ve been if I had just killed you when we met.” Jasper said with his thick southern accent. Normally you would jump with joy or giggle when he talked to you but you felt worse than hurt right now. You didn’t think this could get any worse. But as he took one more look at you he frowned like you were just the most dissecting thing he's ever seen.

“Pathetic.” And then he was gone.

You turned to Edward and walked up to him. And in the few steps it took to get to him you felt the anger flood through your veins.

“Is this why you were acting like such a bitch? You knew?! Why didn’t you tell me? Why couldn’t you give me just that one effort of decency!? Why don’t you love me?!” You yelled at him as a strike of lightning struck you couldn’t even find yourself to get scared.

“You wouldn’t stop prying, why wouldn’t I give in and have a little fun? I told you I was a monster. You insisted on otherwise why wouldn’t I tell you a lesson? It seems that was the only way you could learn.” He said slowly tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Hopefully you’ve learned your lesson to not trust a vampire especially when they warn you that they are soulless.” And then he too was gone.

Staring in the spot they all stood previously you felt your breathing pick up. You couldn’t help yourself but to cry harder. The pain in your heart was something you knew would never go away. No one ever forgets their first love and somehow they all were your first. Though you were crying, all you felt was numbness. The freezing rain was nothing compared to what you were feeling inside. You dropped down and laid on the hard tar road. The sound of the rain pounding against the ground was a constant reminder of what just happened.

You used to love rain. Now you think you hate it. It’s supposed to wash away all the bad and replace it with all the good it could possibly give. But what good could possibly come out of this? You don’t know how long you laid there all you knew was when you opened your eyes there Seth was. What was he doing here? Your vision was cloudy and everything sounded muffled. You were moving? Wait what was going on? You turned your head and squinted when you were faced by blue and red lights.

You tried moving your arm and doing so you let out a scream of pain. What the hell happened? What happened? Oh my god! You thought. Wait, were these your thoughts? What's going on?

“What happened?!” Charlie yelled out rushing to Seth.

“W-we need a doctor, a hospital! She got hit by a car it- the car it crashed into a tree. I don't think the people in it are okay, I think she- they-.” Seth was cut off by Sam’s voice. Seth was panicking but he knew he had to come here first Sam said so.

“We found her! She was in the woods.” Sam said, walking up to Charlie.

“Is she okay?! Where is Carlisle? I need to call him.” Charlie said. He was overwhelmed and didn’t know who needed his attention more.

“Didn’t you hear? The Cullens, they're gone.” Billy said, rolling up to see what was happening.

“Call the police.” Charlie said.

“You’re the Sheriff sir. Please hurry up, she needs a doctor!” Seth said trying not to freak out but Charlie was doing the same except he was in shock.

“I- Put her in my car. I’ll take her.” He commanded. Seth followed his instructions.

The rain still fell and that was all you knew. The one thing that came to your head and the only thing that came to you was.

What good would this bring?

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hart269 · 19 days

Text

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 1

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! Reader

Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

You never know how much you're gonna miss a person until they are going away, even for a small period of time. Less to say you were feelling a little bummed watching your dear brother James standing in the platform waiting for the Hogwarts train. It was gonna be his first year, and even though you were gonna join him next year, it still didn't change the fact that he was going away, that too for a year.

While he busy getting being fussed over by mum and dad, you glanced up at the sound of the train coming. James turned excitedly, hugging mom and dad, before he could fully turn to you, you jumped on him cluthching him, "Aww, little zouwu, are you going to miss me"

"No", came your muffled sound, James patted your back, "I know I am special but don't cry over me now". He grinned at your glare.

"I'm not crying" you huffed.

"Whatever you say" James smirked.

"Write me letters" you mumbled.

"I will" He smiled, he probably will, if he didn't you had plans to *ahem* renovate his room.

And thus he walked towards the train, you looked around the station to see similar scenarios, your eyes met another kid's, your age probably considering he was still with his parents, his mom seemed to be scolding the older brother probably who looked physically pained to stand there. You waved at the boy, causing him to stare confusingly. That's when the train signalled, causing the older one to run towards the train. And soon you saw the train took off while clinging onto your dad's hand. "Let's go now", your mum muttered. As you turned to leave, you once again turned towards the boy you saw, just to find him already looking at you.

After that the whole year went in a blur, you learned about James's new adventures every week from his letters, there were ramblings of the new friends he had made, the annoying and the good teachers, journeys to hagrid's hut, about pranks that even your parents didn't know of and of the many adventures he had. All that only went into details when he came back for christmas and summer break.

The whole of summer break you pestered James to tell you everything you should know. You sat on the couch, legs resting on his stomach as he remain sprawled on the couch.

"Jamie, what house do you think I'll go to?"

"Hufflepuff, obviously" James smirked.

"What, why" you huffed, crosing your arms.

"I mean, you're not smart, not brave, not ambitious and that leaves you in- James voice craclked as his face was hit by the force of the couch pillow. He removed it, getting up staring at you with a malicious glint, causing you to run yelling "Dad, help me, James is hitting me"

"I didn't even -she did it first"

The Diagon alley was always a wonderful place to be, they always had some new and exciting things, you got your wand, a sleek yew wood with white river monster spine at its core.

Mr.Ollivander had glanced at her strangely, "Treat it poorly and you won't access its power, treat it right, it will be loyal to no other". You had nodded, deciding later to brew upon it. For the most part, you were happy to get your own, cause when James got it last year, he didn't even let you touch his, no matter how much you begged him.

You were currently left by your parents at the pet shop, you were searching for a good owl, when a small hustle caught your eye, a snow great horned owl, fighting with another brown one. As you came close, he stood up and stood in the front, fluffing his feathers as if it had done no wrong, cute, you thought.

Taking the owl in your hand, you had turned swiftly, almost colliding with the boy who was standing behind you, the owl screeched, catching him, you exclaimed a loud "Merlin". Staring wide eyed at him you seem to find his face quite familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint, why. Regulus hadn't meant to stand there but he too had found the owl's commotioninteresting. And before he could move, you collided into him, he kept looking at you before realizing he was blocking the way, "Oh, sorry" he muttered moved sideways, You smiled moving past him.

He stared back at the owl on the rack, he lifted his finger, the barn owl moved towards him, nuzlzling in his fingers, he smiled "She's sweet', taking the owl to the counter, he again glaced at the same girl, the shopowner smiled, "Oh, the lovebirds", Regulus head snapped towards the cashier, "What". The shopowner chuckled, "I meant the owls, they are quite in love with each other". You glanced at her curiously "But they were fighting". The shopkeeper smiled looking at them, "Oh, they haven't realised it yet".

Author's Note : The writer means no Hufflepuff slander, it is meant to taken as just a jest. The writer fully supports Hufflepufs like the other houses.

#regulus black #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #marauders #james potter #sirius black #marauders era

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ashwhowrites · 7 months

Note

Eddie Munson x Cheerleader! Reader, they hate each other, they don't have any reason to, but they hate each other, one day they end up in detention, and they escape from it together, and then Eddie invites reader to his trailer, and they start to smoke, and end up having sex, and after that they have an strange relationship at school, and when the pressure is too much, reader tells Eddie that she likes him, and he doesn't know what to say bc he already liked her, but she was bad with him, so reader tries to escape but, Eddie kisses her (and maybe after that, there's smut)

Love cheerleader reader. I hope this is what you were wanting and that you enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun with this. Thank you for requesting <3

Games

⚠️ smut

Eddie and Y/N did not get along. Eddie rolled his eyes whenever she talked, brushed her off constantly, and ignored her. Y/N wasn't sure what she did to Eddie in the first place, she liked him in the beginning. He was cute and she admired how creative he was with his campaign. But he's only ever given her the cold shoulder, so she gave up. She started hating him as much as he hated her.

Eddie had his feet kicked up on the table, leaning back in his chair. Eddie found himself in another day of detention, closing his eyes as he prepared to sleep the hour away.

"Y/L/N, please take a seat." Eddie's eyes snapped open at the sound of Y/N's last name being called. A pleased smile on his face as she slowly walked in and slumped in the chair.

The teacher never stayed, and Eddie was correct when he walked right out the door and locked it. A few other students scattered around.

"Psssst." Eddie hissed, crumpling up a piece of paper as he threw it at her head.

She growled and turned to him, a glare on her face. "Yes?"

"How the hell did you get in here?" Eddie asked, a smirk on his face.

"None of your business." She snapped, turning back around, ignoring him.

Twenty minutes of silence passed, Y/N focused on her homework, and Eddie flicked paper at her over and over.

Eddie sighed and grabbed his stuff, walking over to her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Gonna be a good girl and stay here or you want to get out of here and smoke?"

~~~

That's how she found herself in Eddie's trailer smoking a blunt as they passed it back and forth. She felt the weed in her body, the fuzziness filling her bloodstream as she melted into his bed. Her red eyes matched his as he smiled down at her.

"What are you looking at?" She asked, closing her eyes as she felt relaxation take over.

"I didn't think you could be even prettier." She cracked open her eyes when she felt his breath hitting her lips. He was leaning over her, his red eyes staring down at her. She felt her body heat up under his stare.

"Why do you hate me?" She whispered, trying not to lean up and taste his lips. They were pink and looked soft.

"Because I want you, and I shouldn't." He said, a serious look on his face as he leaned closer. His words went straight between her thighs. She wanted him too, she'd wanted him for so long.

"Why can't you?" But he didn't answer, his lips were on hers before she could think. His right hand wrapped around her neck softly as his left moved down to throw her leg over his waist.

His body fit perfectly between her thighs, her legs wrapped around him as he kissed her deeper. Her head was spinning, and her body was buzzing. She couldn't tell if it was from the kiss or the weed. Her hands tangled in his hair, his tongue pushing into her mouth as he moved his hips into her.

She moaned as she felt him through his jeans pressed against her cunt. The friction of the material rubbed against her thin tights, and her skirt pushed up. Eddie groaned as she yanked on his hair, pulling his head back as she kissed his neck. He shuddered as she sunk her teeth into him, tracing her bite mark with her tongue.

He wished he had the balls to do this sober. Months and months of craving to taste her, feel her, and mark her. He couldn't be bothered to think of the consequences, he had everything he'd been aching for. He kissed down her neck, lifting her shirt as he kissed her stomach softly. He kissed further down, loving the goosebumps that formed on her skin as he softly rubbed her sides. Her skin was warm and soft. He pulled back to rip her tights, smirking as she moaned at his aggression. He moved between her thighs, moving her underwear to the side as he licked up her cunt, his nose breathing her in.

"So fucking pretty." He praised, softly kissing her clit as he pushed two fingers inside of her. He growled at how soaked she was, the sound of her wetness echoing as he fingered her. His tongue worked on her clit, flicking and circling.

She whimpered against him, his fingers pumping inside of her and the feeling of his tongue. She knew the boy had a mouth on him but god, he knew how to use it. Never did she think that Eddie Munson would be between her thighs, giving her the best head she'd ever had.

Eddie hated that he deprived himself of this for so long. Ignoring his feelings and pushing her away. He could have been tasting her all along, smelling her cunt and feeling her clench around his fingers. Her fingers dug into his hair, pulling him closer to her as her legs locked behind his head. She panted as she rocked her hips against his mouth, gasping as he shoved a third finger inside of her.

"Yes, fuck, fuck." She moaned, her orgasm building as she squirmed against his mouth.

"NO!" She panicked as Eddie pulled away, spitting on her clit as he smacked her cunt.

"Poor thing." He mocked as her eyes got teary. He stood at the end of the bed as he unbuckled his jeans. Her eyes watched his every move. He took off his shirt and pushed down his jeans and boxers.

Her eyes locked in on him as he crawled on the bed and grabbed a condom from his nightstand. His body was more gorgeous than she thought. More tattoos scattered around, small bits of hair and freckles. The moles on his stomach and the happy trail that led down to a small patch of pubic hair, and lastly his red cock. Bigger than what she imagined, more veins and thick. She grabbed the wrapper out of his hand, rolling it on his cock as he watched her.

He leaned down and pecked her lips, slipping inside of her. He clenched his teeth as her warm cunt clenched around him. She gasped at the stretch, scratching down his back as she adjusted to his size.

They moved in sync. He fucked into her slow, her hips rolling to match his pace. Breathing into each other's mouth as they kissed. Eddie picked up his pace, her legs wrapped around his body. The sounds of their skin filled his bedroom. His headboard smacked into the wall as he went even deeper, trying to find that one spot to make her scream.

Her eyes closed as she lost herself in the feeling. He couldn't help but watch her. The small gasps that left her lips, the way she bit down on her bottom lip, and the scrunch of her nose. He was lost in admiring her that he didn't even notice he was fucking her faster, the scream she let out-snapped him into reality. He could feel the burning in his stomach.

His right hand gripped his headboard, holding himself up as he fucked the orgasm out of her. Her thighs shook and her head snapped back, allowing him to mark her. His lips attached to her neck immediately, more scratches down his back as she soaked his cock with her cum.

Eddie could get lost in the sound of his cock pushing her cum back inside of her. His orgasm closed as she let him take what he needed. He clenched his teeth as he growled. Releasing himself inside the condom. He softly slid in and out of her, watching as her cunt pushed him out.

Her eyes were too heavy to stay open and his body gave out. Landing next to her he took off the condom and tied the top. Throwing it in his trashcan nearby. Her soft breathing took over the silence as she fell asleep.

~~~

Y/N knew it was a dumb idea to take his hand and ditch detention. Now they are in this awkward situation of passing each other and not knowing what to say. He drove her home yesterday in silence, not saying a word as she got out of the car.

He admitted he wanted her, but he hated her because of it. He got what he wanted, so what does that mean? Did he still want her or was it just the one-time sex?

His silence was even worse than his snarky comments. At least then he talked to her. She noticed he covered the mark she left, she hated to admit it stung. Did he want to ignore that it happened? His mark was still on her neck, she didn't bother to cover it because she liked it. But now she's embarrassed that he didn't feel the same.

Word got around that she snuck out of detention with the freak, her friends begging for details. But she lied and said nothing happened. Too embarrassed to admit they fucked and now he wanted nothing to do with her. She didn't need the pity from Chrissy either. The only girl on the team who knew how Y/N felt for Eddie.

~~~

Eddie was stuck. He made the move on the girl, told her he wanted her, they fucked, and she didn't confess a thing. No word if she liked him too or if she wanted him just as much. He didn't know if she still hated his guts or if the sex meant something. In his little fantasy, he thought she'd say something back, admit she liked him and the hate was a cover-up. Admit she wanted him just as bad. But she didn't say anything, and he didn't ask.

Another salt to the wound when he heard from the whispers in the halls that she said nothing happened between them. The bruise on his neck said something different, but he hid it. Embarrassed that she left a mark on him and didn't bother to talk to him about it.

~~~

A week passed and nothing. Y/N didn't know what to do. She wanted to talk to him, admit that she missed him and his silence was driving her insane. But she didn't want to be that girl that couldn't separate sex and feelings.

Friday night was the big football game, and Y/N was not looking forward to sitting on the sidelines and freezing her ass off. She hated that as a cheerleader she couldn't wear warmer clothes to the games.

She cheered as the game went on, surprised to see Eddie in the stands. He never went to any games and she couldn't understand why his eyes were on her the whole time. She felt a little insecure with her uniform, trying to cover herself slightly under his stare.

As the game wrapped up, she headed for her car. As she did, she saw Eddie walking to his van. She debated in her head if she should walk up to him.

"Hey, Eddie?" She said quietly, praying he didn't hear her and she could turn back around. But he stopped and turned around. Blankly staring at her as he fiddled with his keys. She dropped down her bag and stood up tall.

"Gonna say something?" He asked after a moment of silence. She hated how nervous he made her. His aggressive tone made her flinch. He didn't look at her like he did that day. It was like a completely different person. Maybe he only liked her when he was high. The thought brought tears to her eyes. Silently crying as she gathered her courage.

"Was it a mistake?" She asked, her hand covering her mouth as she felt the burn in her throat. She tried her best not to sob in the parking lot as he stared at her. But he didn't say anything.

"Just because I understand if you thought it was and that's why you don't want to talk to me. But I need to know where you stand so I can figure out my own shit."

"Figure out what?" He muttered

"If I need to get over you or not. It wasn't a mistake for me. I've always liked you and I can't even tell if you hate me or like me. " She confessed

More tears fell down her face as he continued to stare at her. His eyes were blank as he blinked over and over.

She gave him another minute, praying he'd say something so she didn't have to force herself to leave.

"Looks like I got what I needed." She spat, bending down to pick up her bag as she turned around. Wiping her face as she marched to her car. She reached for her handle when she was spun around and slammed against it.

She breathed hard as Eddie pressed his body against hers. She fought so hard not to get caught up in her sexual thoughts. She loved feeling him pressed against her, the way he felt inside of her, and the way he kissed.

"It wasn't," he whispered, she shivered as his arm wrapped around her and his hand cupped her ass. He pushed her further against him, his face hiding in her neck as he breathed in her perfume, small kisses to her skin. His other hand traveled down her stomach to reach into her skirt. She wanted to melt into him, but he still didn't tell her what she needed.

"Eddie, no." She moaned, pushing him off of her as she collected herself. Ignoring the coldness that filled where his touch was. "You can't just ignore me for a week, then refuse to talk to me, and now try to fuck me." She argued. Dread filled her bones, maybe all he did was want sex. She quickly turned around, trying to get in her car but his hand pushed the door closed.

He stood behind her, she could feel him breathing down her neck.

"Why did you get detention?" She rolled her eyes at his question.

"Still none of your fucking business."

"Tell me." He demanded.

"For you!" She spat, turning around. "I got detention because I stood up for you. And now I look like a fucking idiot. I protected you, I put myself out there and told you how I felt. And what do I get from you? Absolutely nothing. Next time you want a girl, have the balls to tell her you don't feel anything sober." She went to turn around again, but he held her arm.

"I do like you. None of it was a mistake. I had feelings for you and I knew there was no way in hell the cheerleader would fall for me. So I figured I could push my feelings away if I convinced myself I hated you. But you were so fucking perfect and sweet to me. It just pissed me off even more so I had to get mean. And I felt like dying the second you started hating me too. The feelings never went away, it got stronger. I wanted you so bad but I blew my chances by being a complete asshole to you." He confessed, watching her closely as he continued. "I meant it when I said I wanted you. My feelings don't change for you when I'm sober, it was easier to make the move when I was high. But it's a move I've been dying to make. I'm an idiot and got scared. I told you I wanted you and you didn't say it back. I thought maybe the sex wasn't anything to you and I made a fool of myself. So I ignored it by ignoring you. I'm sorry, and I'm sorry for never telling you I have feelings for you." He nervously watched her.

"You are a huge idiot," she stated, his face fell at her words. "But I'm an idiot for not saying it back. I've had feelings for you forever and it crushed me when it seemed like you'd never like me like that. I appreciate and accept your apology, Eddie." She smiled and Eddie felt the relief run through his bones.

"Can we try this again? Maybe without the games?" Eddie asked.

"Just kiss me." She said, rolling her eyes. A huge smile on Eddie's face as he leaned down to kiss her. She smiled into the kiss as she wrapped her arms around him.

She pulled back with a tiny smirk, another question on her mind.

"And what were you doing at a football game? You hate sports and jocks." Her arms were still around his neck as she asked.

"To have another view of you in a tiny skirt." He winked, slapping her ass as she moaned.

"Perving on me from the stands?" She joked, smacking his shoulder.

"Mhhm wanted to bend you over and take you right there." He growled in her ear, biting her lobe. He grabbed her hand away from his neck and trailed it down to his tight jeans. She moaned as she felt how hard he was, squeezing him.

"Who's stopping you?"

Eddie smirked as he flipped her over his shoulder, grabbing her bag as he walked to his van. She screamed and laughed as he smacked her ass.

She gasped when he opened the van and dropped her in the back. The seats were down and blankets were scattered. He threw in her bag and closed the door. Smirking down at her as he removed his shirt. She sat on her knees as she touched his soft skin. Her mouth attacked his chest as he moaned.

Some games were still fun.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

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deanwinchestersbabygirll · 11 days

Text

Last Christmas

-warnings// a little angst, lots of fluff, mention of slicing and finger nail removal

-lil summery// basically based in season 3 episode 8 just with our favourite character... Y/N!

Dean x reader

word count// 6960

(gif from pinterest)

"You didn't see anything at all ma'am, any flickering lights?" You asked the scared women "what would flickering lights have to do with my missing husband?!" Mrs Walsh asked frustrated "what we mean Mrs Walsh is that any detail you can recall even something as small as the lights flickering or even a strange or unsettling smell could help us find out What exactly happened to your husband" dean swooped in behind you

Mrs Walsh sighed sadly as she tried to go over the night "I'm sorry I don't remember anything other than my husband being dragged from bed, whoever took him knocked me out- I just I don't know what I'm gonna tell my kids I mean come on Christmas is right around the corner and they have to spend it without their dad?" She cried as her sobs shook her body

You pulled her to the side slightly to calm her "Mrs Walsh I assure you that we'll do everything we can to find out what happened to your husband, I'm so sorry this happened to you and your family" you said handing the weeping women a tissue "thank you agent page" she smiled and headed back into her home.

"Alright so doesn't seem like it was a demon, you guys have any ideas?" You asked the boys on the way to the motel "I'm not sure but I found a tooth in the chimney so it seems that's where Mr Walsh was taken out from, I'll start researching when we get back" Sam replied

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence as you took in the scenery of Michigan in December, all the decorations surrounding the town of Ypsilanti.

"Alright I've looked through everything and I keep coming back to same idea" sam said "great what have you got?" You asked sitting next to him on the dingy couch "it's gonna sound crazy but-" Sam was cut off by deans loud laugh "Sammy, what do you think you could possibly say that would sound crazy to us?" You chuckled as Sam sighed a smile curling on his lips "alright… Evil Santa"

"...alright ya got me, that's crazy" dean crossed his arms across his chest as he leaned against the wall "i don't know Dean, we hunt some crazy shit" you said turning to look at the older Winchester, he smirked moving toward the couch, taking a seat next to you and pulling you into him "I guess your right sweetheart, alright Sammy tell me what your thinking"

You laid your head to rest on your boyfriends hard chest as you listened to Sam ramble on about his theory of krampus, Dean ran his rough hands up and down your side and pulled you closer so you were sat on his lap rather than the two small for you and two oversized Winchester men

You felt yourself gently drifting off to the sound of deans heartbeat and the distant sound of his gruff voice "well I'm just saying what the lore says..." Sam defended as dean shut down the idea of evil Santa "dude Santa doesn't have a brother... there is no Santa" he said his hand coming to rest on the top of your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles on the warm exposed skin of your hip

"I seen a little Santa village on the way here, it's not that far why don't we go and scope it out" you sleepily suggest "good idea let's head out" Sam said moving to get up you sighed out a huff as you pulled from the warm embrace of your boyfriend, Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you headed to baby "your in the back Sammy" he said as the younger Winchester went to open the passenger door, Sam sighed as you giggled jumping in and moving to sit next to dean as he pulled you close to his side, the comforting smell of pine and gunfire engulfed you immediately as the impala purred to life.

You and the boys walked through a very.. . Questionable looking Santa's village "this place sucks I thought it would have been more fun looking based on the town's decorations" you said as you looked around the crappy 'north pole' "yeah kinda makes the 'anti-Claus' theory sound more realistic doesn't it" Sam replied

Dean clapped his hands together happily as turned to you and his brother "hey speaking of Christmas, we should have one this year" he said and you felt your body go rigged, you've been with Dean for over 2 years and not once in those two years did he express a want to celebrate the holiday other than a few small gifts. You knew he wanted to do this because it would be his last Christmas he gets to spend you and Sam and it's tearing you apart knowing each day gets closer and closer to the end of deans year

Swallowing hard as you felt your throat grow extremely dry, before you can say anything Sam's scoffing "yeah no I'm good" Sam says and Dean continues to push "oh come on, we'll even get a little tree for the room and we can decorate it and then we can get a nice take out for dinner" "honestly I'm not really up for it either Dean" you confessed, finally gaining your voice back

He looks at you a slight gleam of hurt on his face flashes "come on baby, it'll be fun, we can even watch home alone, I know how much you love that movie" dean said his eyes practically begging you to say yes, you give him a forced smile as you knew you had to cave, you wanted to remember these things with a happy memory with dean, even if right now your heart was breaking into a thousand pieces "see Sammy, Y/N's in its two against one" Dean said as he wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, Sam turned his head toward you both and with a shrug of his broad shoulders "you guys do what you want I'm not doing it" he said and stalked away, "what a grinch" Dean whispered in your ear.

"You would think with how expensive this crap was to get in they'd have put on a better show" dean grumbled out as you all seen the disappointment on the kids in lines faces "I know... almost feels like our Santa here really is the anti Santa" you told him and dean nodded while Sam seemed to be in a daze.

It was a few hours later and you and the boys were in the impala outside 'Santa's trailer waiting for him to make his move. You sat in the front next to Dean as Sam was fast asleep in the back, you'd hardly said a word to him as you stared out the window, head leaning against the cool glass as you felt his green eyes burning holes on the side of your head "everything okay?" Dean asked his voice low as to not alert his sleeping brother

"Yeah I'm fine, just thinking..." you replied not looking at him "what are you thinking about sweetheart?" He asked gently grabbing your hand small hand in his much bigger one "just stuff, nothing to worry about honey" you told him leaning forward to give his plump lips a quick kiss in hopes to ease his worry, Dean would let it go for now but he was still worried about how different you were acting.

You started to drift off once again that day until you were startled by Sam's loud yawn " hey what time is it?" He asked stretching his longs limbs "it's one in the morning, haven't seen anything suspicious yet" dean replied his eyes fixated on the trailer door, just as he finished his sentence the 'Santa' was at the window looking around the quiet parking lot before shutting his curtains in a rush "alright it's show time!" you said jumping out of the car

Dean ran to get to the trailer door infront of you always wanting to protect you from the darkness of the job in whatever way he can, Dean kicks the door open and the three of you have your guns drawn and aimed at the santa

"...roast my chestnut, egg my nogg"

The tv played on in the backround as the 'Santa jumped to his feet his bong hitting couch in his hurry

You and the boys shared looks of shock before rushing to hide your guns "Silent night..." dean started off awkwardly and you and Sam quickly joined in "holy night, all is dry..." you grabbed both boys by their jackets and pushed them to the door before rushing into the car, Dean taking off quickly from the embarrassing situation.

The next morning you woke to deans arm being wrapped tightly around your waist as your head lay on his chest, your leg thrown over his hips, you tried to pull away gently as to not wake him, your small movements proved enough to wake the sleeping hunter as he gently opened his green eyes "where you going sweetheart?" He asked his voice deep and raspy from just waking up "I'm starving so I was gonna go get us some breakfast and coffee" he hummed and pulled you back down to him "ten more minutes then we'll go" dean said kissing the top of your head

"Guys come on we gotta go there's been another attack" Sam announced as he came back into the room, Dean sighed dramatically "I'm going to end the son of a bitch for messing with my sleep" dean threatened making you giggle "alright let's get going we'll stop for something quick then go talk to the vics" you said leaning down to give your boyfriend a quick kiss to the lips before rushing to get dressed.

You sat in the back of the impala drinking your coffee as Dean drove to the Caldwells, you couldn't help but feel your heart sink deeper with each passing day as you stared at your boyfriend through the rear view mirror, Dean was already catching your eyes sending a worried smile your way at the look of your tear filled eyes that you refused to let fall, he raised his brows as to silently ask if you were okay and you nodded quickly changing your gaze to the window as the blur of Christmas decorations blurred with deans speed.

" so ma'am your son explained to you that he saw Santa take his dad up the chimney?" You questioned the sorrow filled women, she nodded holding her arms close to her body in defence motion "that’s what he told me, yes" she replied

"And where we're you Mrs Caldwell?" Dean asked and the women gave him a strange look of confusion "I was asleep and then all of a sudden I was being dragged from my bed and then i was knocked out, It just happened so fast" she cried

You placed your hand on her arm and smiled in understanding "I understand how hard this must be Mrs Caldwell, I could never imagine the pain and confusion your feeling right now, do you need to take a little break from the questions?" You asked her and she shook her head "no I'm alright thank you detective, I just want this to all be over with so my husband is found and brought home safely to us" she smiled sadly

"Did you happen to see anything of the attacker, maybe hair colour, height, anything strange?" Dean asked and she shook her head instantly "no I didn't see anything it was so dark and it was just a blur"

Sam looked around as you and Dean continued to talk to her "yeah so Mrs Caldwell, do you remember where you got that wreath?" Sam asked and the women grew angry as you and Dean sent him looks of question "excuse me!" She demanded "it's just its very pretty" sam stuttered out "I don't give a rats behind about that wreath, I care about my missing husband so if we can stop with the questions and we can get on with finding him so my kids don't have to spend Christmas without their father, that would be greatly appreciated detective!" Sam nodded "of course mrs Caldwell"

"Of all the things to ask a grieving wife and mother, you ask about her Christmas wreath?please tell me you have a good theory that will make me forget how horrible that experience was" You asked Sam as you walked towards baby "think about it, that's not the first time we've seen that wreath here" Sam replied, "where?" Dean asked Sam intrigued "the Walshes!" You said quickly and Sam nodded "I don't think that's a coincidence considering the similarities".

Once you got back to the motel Sam quickly got on the phone with Bobby, "hey can we talk?" Dean asked grabbing your hand, you nodded and let him lead you to outside "is everything okay, since we got here you've been a little off, just like you're shutting down" dean asked his eyes full of concern, you sighed and looked at the ground "I'm okay I'm just tired and can't wait to get this case over with" you lied but your lie detector of a boyfriend didn't buy it for a second "Y/N come on I wasn't born yesterday-" "no but your gonna be dead in a few months, then what?" You cut him off, feeling the lump in your chest grow bigger as your eyes stung with tears

"Sweetheart I know your upset, believe me if there was any other way to bring Sammy back I would have done it, I love you more than anything and I promise I won't stop looking for a way out of this stupid deal" dean told you wiping the small tear that escaped down your check "it's just so hard knowing our time with you is limited, this is gonna be our last Christmas we can spend together, I just I- I don't know what I'm gonna do without you" you said fully breaking down at this point

Dean pulled you tightly to his chest, hugging you as you cried "I know it sucks baby, I know we never really did anything for Christmas before that's why I wanted to make this a good one so it could be thought back on as a happy memory of us three together" dean confessed as his own voice broke slightly "if I can't get out of this deal, I need you to promise me something... I want you to get out of this life, I want you to move on find someone that makes you happy, I want you to get married and have kids, I want you to have the apple pie life sweetheart because you deserve to be happy" dean said and you pulled back from his tight embrace to look at him, seeing he had a few tears of his own running down his checks

"Dean I can't, I could never be happy with any one other than you, you're the love of my life" you told him, he gave you sad smile "your the love of my life too sweetheart which is why I need to know your gonna be okay if I'm gone, please just promise me this... please" he begged, you nodded knowing you would never follow through, you would never love any one after Dean "I promise".

Dean and you stayed in that position for a while longer while you calmed yourselves before facing Sam "you ready?" Dean asked kissing your forehead, "yeah" you said your eyes feeling puffy and your voice sounding hoarse "I got Bobby, I was right he’s heard of it before, he said it's likely meadowsweet in the wreaths" Sam said looking up from his laptop, "what's wrong?" Sam asked when he seen your sad face "nothing Sammy it'll be alright" you told him, he turned his gaze to dean who's eyes remained on you "alright we'll talk about this later then.." Sam trailed off

"So what's Bobby saying" you asked taking a seat on the couch trying to get the focus of you "well other than calling us all morons, he told me the meadowsweet was used in pagan lore, mostly in their rituals" you and Dean shared a confused look "pagan lore, and what kind of rituals?" Dean asked taking his seat next to you

"Well based on the research, meadowsweet was used like bait for their human sacrifices and the pagan gods would come basically chow down on the closest human" Sam said and your face twisted in disgust "Jesus what are we dealing with here" you said in disbelief "yeah it's pretty nasty stuff, when these family's have been putting the wreaths up it's basically an invitation for them to be killed and eaten" Sam told you "alright so how to do we stop it" dean asked his own face showing discomfort

"I don't know" Sam told him and Deans eyes widen "Bobby working on a way to figure it out, until then, we're gonna find it" Sam said and you both nodded "alright our first step is to find out who's selling the wreaths... do you think they know what what they're selling?" You said both boys shrugging their shoulders "I have no idea, I hope not" Dean said, Sam exhales loudly before clapping his hands "well let's go find out"

Once you were in the parking lot Dean was wrapping his arm around your shoulders tucking you tightly into his side and throwing Sam baby's keys "your driving" Sam tilted his head in confusion before giving Dean a hard look "you are not making me drive so you two can make out in the back seat again!" Sam said quickly, Dean huffed "we're not gonna make out..." he trailed off looking at you shaking your head no "alright we're definitely not gonna make out while you drive...again" dean promised with a laugh before pulling you into the back seat with him and bringing you back to his side "step on it Sammy, we've got a monster to find" dean announced before the impala roared to life and Sam was tearing down the street.

"Alright this place sells Christmas decorations let's try in here" you told the boys and walked in taking a look around "hi, can I help you folks?" the man at the counter asked "yeah I hope so, we were at the Walshes the other night for couples game night, and I couldn't keep my eyes off their Christmas wreath, it was beautiful and we were really hoping we could get one before Christmas, right honey?" You said a fake smile plastered on your face as you looked to dean "yeah that's right sweetheart, any chance you've got any of them left" dean continued your lie

The man looked confused "I'm sorry I see a lot of wreaths every day, could you be more specific?" You nodded "yeah, it was the most beautiful wreath, it had these green leaves and they had little white buds all over it" the man looked taken back "well aren't you a fussy one" the man said sarcastically , Dean gave the man a hard stare and went to tell him off before you cut him off "yeah I can be, just want the perfect wreath for our first christmas together in our new home" the man nodded and sighed "well it just so happens I know what wreath your talking about, they flew off my shelves in one day, every one loved them so I'm all out actually" sam gave the man a questioning look "the meadowsweet is actually pretty expensive why would you make wreaths out of it?" The man shrugged his shoulders "not a clue, I didn't make em" the man said in his gruff voice "oh really? Who did make them?" You asked him

The man turned to face you " it was Madge Carrigan, nice local lady, she told me these wreaths were so darn a special she was giving them to me, no charge" Dean chuckled knowingly "did you sell them for free too?" The man had a shocked look on his face "hell no, it's Christmas, people would spend money on damn near anything for any price if you slap Christmas in front of it!" The man said loudly looking at dean like he had three heads "that's the Christmas spirit, thanks for your time" you said grabbing Deans hand leading him toward the exit.

Later that night at the motel Dean and Sam were cleaning their guns while you were in the shower "so what was going on earlier, you guys seemed pretty upset" Sam asked and Dean sighed "it's nothing Sammy we just had a little talk everything's fine" dean told him not wanting to talk about it "Dean come on man, you can talk to me, I'm your brother you don't have to hide anything from me" Sam said wanting Dean to talk "look Y/N was just upset about how much time I have left and when I kept pushing the Christmas thing it just made her feel worse so can we just not talk about it around her" dean said noting the sound of the shower turning off "yeah got it i won't mention it again" Sam said sadly, "alright, you boys ready" you asked coming out of the bathroom a little while later, both boys nodded.

"Alright I think this is the house" sam said "wow can't you just feel the evil" dean joked as he took in the many decorations surrounding the house, you and Sam rolled your eyes as you knocked on the door, a few seconds later a very jolly women opened the door "can I help you?" She asked "please tell me your Madge Carrigan? The genius who made the meadowsweet wreaths?" Dean asked, the women grew a big smile " why yes, that was me, they were most beautiful wreaths weren't they?" She said excitement oozing out of her "they were just beautiful, this one right here seen one the other day, and just hasn’t stopped talking about it, ain't that right Sammy" Dean said pointing to his giant brother "... oh yeah, totally we were in the store the other day and seen them and they sold out just before we could get our hands on one" Sam told her feigning disappointment

The women grew a sad look "oh fudge, that's horrible they are just the most sweet smelling wreaths!" She said you nodded your head "they were, we were so disappointed we couldn't get one ourselves, say, you wouldn't have any spares we could buy?" You asked and she kept her sad expression "oh I'm sorry dear, those were the only ones I had for this season, gosh I wish I could give you one!" She said and you held back a snarky 'yeah so you could eat us right up' remark "Mrs Carrigan. may I ask why did you choose to use meadowsweet in your wreaths?" You asked and a man came down in a cheerful sweater with an old fashioned pipe between his lips as she answered "why the smell of course, it's it just the sweetest smell dear?" She asked her husband

"Oh it is! You haven't smelt anything sweeter than those Christmas wreaths!" The man said with a loud chuckle "definitely not sir" you faked a laugh with them "say would any of you folk care for some peanut brittle?" The man asked handing the tub of candy out, you saw deans hand reaching for and quickly slapped it away "oh no thanks we're just on our way to dinner, don't want to ruin our appetites, anyway thank you for your time Mr and Mrs Carrigan, hopefully we snag a wreath next year" you say pulling both boys away "oh you will I save one specially for alll of you" Mrs Carrigan laughed as they closed the door, "well that was... disturbing" you said and both boys agreed before Sam was driving back to the motel.

Dean and you were sat on the motel bed sharpening wooden stakes to take out the evil pagans "you find anything yet sweetie?" You asked tossing and other finished stake to your pile before staring another "yeah, so get this, turns out Mr and Mrs jolly lived in Seattle last year, and right around Christmas time, there was a few abductions that took place, sounds identical to what's happening right now. And Bobby's sure that the evergreen stakes will kill them?" Sam asked before shutting his laptop down, "Oh he's sure, so get helping big guy" dean said throwing Sam a stake to carve.

It was nine o clock when you the boys were breaking into the empty house "hey look, the furniture still has the wrapping over it, they're obviously planning on ditching town as soon as possible" you said pointing your flashlight at the couch "that's creepy as hell" Dean said as you all made your way to the kitchen "hey guys over here!" Sam whispered loudly, you both went back over to find an unlocked door "must be the basement, let's check it out boys" you told them both as Sam lead the way down the basement, Dean walking behind you, both boys always being protective no matter what

"Oh my god that's disgusting" you said your flashlight pointed to 'santas sack' full of bones and body parts, the bag dripping blood "this places looks more like a butcher's than a freaking basement!" Dean as you took in the sight of blood and bones across the room, "I think there's someone in there!" Sam said worried as he saw the other sack moving, you all rushed to open it but you were grabbed from behind you screamed as the attacker lifted you off your feet

"Y/N!" Dean yelled and rushed toward you Sam close behind his stake at the ready, you were slammed against the wall, Mrs Carrigan’s crazy eyes meeting ours "it's very rude to break into people's home now isn't it" she sneered her hand tightening it's grip around your throat cutting off the air from your lungs blurring your vision “get your hands off her or I swear I'll blow your fucking brains out!" dean yelled his gun pointed at the women, Sam moving to sneak behind her with his stake raised before he was whacked in the back of the head, Mr Carrigan coming into view "now, now it was awfully silly for you all to go snooping where you don't belong wasn't it" the man said slapping deans gun from his hand with unnatural strength "the hel-" dean started but was knocked out with a blow to the head by Madge.

You stirred awake and looked around finding Dean sat in front of you tied to a chair, his head slumped to the side as he was out "Dean! Wake up" you called for him and heard shuffling from behind him "Y/N! Are you okay?" Sam asked worried "yeah I think so" you rasped out you throat feeling sore "what's going- Y/N! Sammy!" Dean moved quickly to start rushing to break out from the confinements of the ropes "looks like we're dealing with two pagan gods rather than one" Sam said

"Oh look dear they're awake, goodness we thought you were gonna sleep right through the night" Madge said chuckling as she walked behind her husband "and what? sleep through the party? No chance" dean replied sarcastically "oh he's a funny man then. No boy, see what you lot are, is hunters!" Mr Carrigan said looking at all of us in disgust "yeah, and you're pagan gods so how about we just forget about this and we go our separate ways" dean said and the Cardigans both shook their heads right away "not a chance, you would just go and call all your hunting friends, no your not walking out of here alive" Madge said cheerfully as she pulled out a knife and bowl

"Guess you should have thought about that before you started eating people!" You demanded "oh don't be like that, we have pulled back from how much we used to eat, we used to take hundreds in a year, and now we only take what two or three?" She turned to her husband "well the three stooges here makes six dear" Mr Carrigan said as he walked to stand next to his wife "now that's not so bad is it, from hundreds to six people a year!" Madge said exasperated "oh well, when you say it like that... it's still horrible, your still monsters!" You said annoyed "you should be showing us some respect, your fate does lie in our hands now doesn't it, hunter" Mr Carrigan sneered at you in a threatening manner

"You touch a damn hair on her head and I swear I'll rip you limb from god damn limb" Dean threatened pulling at his restraints once again "well we're not the ones tied up now are we? so you ought to watch yourself" Mr Carrigan was in deans face as if to intimidate him "or what, your gonna eat us?" Madge perked up with a bright smile on her face "oh no, that comes later first we need to do the rituals" she announced clapping her hands together in excitement

"Oh we do love a good ritual don't we Madge" the women nodded excitedly "nothing better than a gold ole ritual to get you in the Christmas spirit! We just need some-" "meadowsweet?" Dean questioned, Madge nodded excitedly "oh darn, your all out of your... special meadowsweet wreaths, guess we'll just have to cancel the whole ritual" you rushed out looking at dean who was already looking at you with a worried glint in his eye

"Oh don't you worry dear, we have some special meadowsweet saved for such occasions!" Madge told you as she put wreaths around your necks "see now don't they look so, oh what's a good word... sweet" Madge said with a devious smile "sweet enough to eat!" Mr Carrigan said as he walked towards you with the knife and bowl "the hell are you doing! Get the fuck away from her" Dean yelled thrashing around in his restraints, Sam trifling against his own to help

"We're starting with the loud mouth" Mr Carrigan said as he dragged the knife down you arm causing you to scream "Y/N!" "Get off her, I swear I'm gonna kill you, you fucking sons of bitches!" The boys both yelling

You felt slightly dizzy form the blood loss, but you've been hurt far worse than this so your able to stay awake "Can you believe how they talk to us Madge? We're gods! They should be bowing down to us and thanking us for this, it's an honour for you!" Mr Carrigan said angrily leaning down to Sam "d-don't" Sam started before he yelled out in pain "Sammy!" You and dean yelled

"you okay?" Dean questioned noticing your face screwed up in pain, don't worry about me I've been hurt worse than this" Madge came and stood before dean "now ya won't feel a pinch dear " she said before slicing down his arm Dean groaned in pain "you fucking bitch!" You screamed thrashing your legs trying to break them from their binds in order to lick the pagan god "oh watch your language in my house! She turned to you "when I really want to say bad words, ya know what I say… 'fudge' it's much nicer to say!" She said and you rolled your eyes "oh I'll try and fudging remember that!" You said exhausted with these peoples act

"Where are the pliers Madge?" Mr Carrigan asked shuffling through the cupboards "third drawer dear" Madge replied as she placed the bowl of your mixed blood ok the kitchen counter "Ah delightful! I think we'll start with you" and Carrigan said as he came to stand in front of Sam "the hell are you gonna do to me!" Sam demanded, neither of them answered him as they started pulling his nail away, Sam yelled in pain as you and Dean yelled for them to stop "Get off him you fudging lunatics!" Dean yelled still trying to get out of his restraints "oh very good!" Madge said proudly to dean as she plopped Sam's finger nail in the bloody bowl,

"Your turn" Mr Carrigan said as he looked at you with a sick smile "no- no please.." your begs were muffled as he put the pliers in your mouth and went to pull a tooth out "stop it!" Dean yelled

Just as the evil pagan was about to rip your tooth out the doorbell rang, they shared a look of frustration before they stopped what they were doing and went to answer the door, leaving you and the boys alone

“Alright we don’t have much time” Sam said before he was able to wiggle his arm from the restraint and grabbing the blood covered knife from the counter and cutting the rest of his ropes “how the hell did you get out of them” dean whisper yelled as Sam undid his restraints “he hit the rope on my wrist when he was cutting my arm, I just needed them to be distracted” Sam informed you both, as soon as deans restraints were done he was taking the knife from Sam and kneeling in front of you “how you feeling baby?” He asked making you smile “I’m fine, let’s kill these bastards!”

“We do apologise for that interruption, now let’s get back to the…” she trailed off turning to her her husband who matched her hard look before hearing a loud bang “careful you nearly took my hand off Dean!” They heard a male voice say from outside the door

“Dude our evergreen stakes! They’re in the basement” dean said worried knowing the cupboard wouldn’t hold forever when he heard the yells and bangs from the kitchen as Mr and Mrs crazy tried to break free “yeah I think I’ve got that figured out” you told them as they turned to see what you were staring at… the Christmas tree “god baby your a genius!” Dean said and walked towards the big tree, he started breaking the branches off, just as you each got your own weapons the cupboard snapped and the Carrigans were stood breathing heavy with red angry faces at the doorway

“Oh you rude little… I loved that tree!” She screamed as she rushed attack Dean, you punched her before she could get to him, she turned to give you a sinister smile as she spit a bit of to the floor, she tried to grab you by your neck once more but you were faster, riling to the side so the women stumbled, you heard a groan from beside you that causing your attention, seeing Mr Carrigan on top on dean was enough to distract you, giving the evil pagan the upper hand as she gripped you neck tightly, you scratched at her hands to get her off

As soon as it started it was over,her grip on your neck loosened as the women grew limp, you looked down to see the tree branch through her chest as you coughed uncontrollably , Sam was behind her shoving it in deeper “MADGE NO!” Mr Carrigan yelled, Dean stuck him with his own branch before shoving the limp body to the side and getting up “you two okay?” Dean asked rushing over, “I’m okay, bound to have a sore throat all next week considering lil ole Madge there seemed pretty into choking” you joked causing both boys to laugh “alright we better clean this crap up” Sam said already making his way toward the Carrigans body’s.

Dean had dropped Sam off at the motel while you two went to go grab some take out for Christmas dinner “this was a pretty nasty hunt wasn’t it” dean said and you turned to smile at him “yeah it was, who’d have thought we’d find evil pagan gods” you joked and turned back to look at the open road, noticing dean slowing baby up and pulling into a dirt road

He turned to face you “hey, so I know you don’t want to do Christmas, and I get it, trust me I do, but I-” he stopped to take a deep breath before continuing “I got you this a while ago and was just finding the right time to give it to you, and now seems as good as any..” Dean confessed, reaching into his pocket to pull out a ring box revealing a beautiful diamond ring “dean?” You questioned tears in your eyes

“I’m not proposing, we’ll i mean I kind of am, if I wasn’t in this deal sweetheart, I’d be on knee begging you to marry my ass but I don’t want to do that knowing there’s a chance I might not live to marry you, so I’m making a promise, a promise that if by some miracle I get out of this, you and me are getting married, we’ll do the whole nine yards because you deserve nothing better so my question is will you accept my promise?”” dean asked his voice shaky and full of fear as you had tears streaming down your face

You nodded and let out a teary laugh “yeah, I accept your promise Dean” you cried leaning forward to give him a wet kiss on the lips, you pulled apart when it became too hard to kiss because the two of you were smiling so hard “I love you so much sweetheart” he confessed leaning his forehead against yours “I love you too Dean”.

You and dean drive back to the motel after s few pit stops for food and gas, not being able to wipe the smile from your faces, not being able to stop admiring the small but beautiful diamond placed on your ring finger.

You both walked into the the motel room hand in hand with burgers and fries in a bag, hearing jingle bells play softly in the background and Sam stood smiling at you both, you took in the room and noticed the little Christmas tree sat on the table and the eggnog “Sammy?” Dean questioned his smile growing bigger “what’s all this then?” Sam gave him an obvious look “it’s Christmas, well our Christmas” Sam replied handing you both a cup of eggnog

“Well let’s sit down get eating” Dean said as you all took a seat at the small motel couch “hey what’s that” Sam asked spotting the sparkle in you hand “we’ll we kinda got engaged, well a promise engagement” you told him showing the ring off to the younger Winchester who was smiling at you both “that’s amazing you guys!” He congratulated making you smile

“I got you both something” Sam confessed pulling out two presents wrapped up in news paper “you didn’t have to do that Sammy” you said with a smile, “I got you something too” dean told him pulling out the presents you two both purchased, “oh wait don’t open anything! I have your presents in my bag” you said quickly running to your duffle and pulling out two cutely wrapped boxes “sweetheart when did you get these? I thought you were against CHRISTMAS at first?” Dean questioned when you handed him his present

“I was against celebrating… under these circumstances but I always love presents” you told him sitting down once more you all opened you gifts, Sam had gotten you your favourite bottle of vodka, Dean had gotten Sam porno mags to which the younger hunter lit up at “no more pay per view for a while now” you joked, he also got him a bottle of shaving cream, knowing he ran out that morning… because he’d finished it off, Sam got Dean a bottle of oil for Dean and his favourite candy bar “hey, you knew just what I wanted man” dean told him opening up the candy bar

The boys the opened your gifts “Y/N, thank you I love it” Sam said moving to give you a hug after he opened the box of his favourite cologne “no problem sweetie, I know how much you love that stuff

Dean was next opening up his present “hey that’s awesome, a new gun to add to the collection” dean said excited looking at the silver pistol “hey it’s got my initials!” Thank you sweetheart, I love it” dean told you pulling you into a deep kiss.

You and the boys were all sat on the couch, you on deans lap cuddling into him as home alone played in the back ground, but you couldn’t really focus too much on the movie, only the man who was currently snoozing with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, thinking of every possible way to save him from his fate, praying to anyone to save your boyfriend, for now you had to wait and just hope for the best, hope that your boyfriend wouldn’t be ripped to shreds by hell hounds, hope that someone, anyone could save him. For right now you were gonna relish in the feeling of his strong arms around you, of the feeling of his heartbeat, the sounds of his voice because deep down you knew, he couldn’t be saved from this, you just had to cherish the little time left with him.

______________________________________________________________

hi, its been a minute, currently rushing through ideas and trying to write for Sam and Cas but every idea just so happens to accidently turn into a Dean imagine (im sorry sam and cas people!) if you have any ideas you would like to see done please feel free to send in any requests x

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suashii · 2 months

Text

— 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉'𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 (𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓉?) ౨ৎ

geto suguru x f!reader. 2.3k wc. ﾉ smut (nsfw, MDNI) ﾉ college au ﾉ fuckboy!geto ﾉ fingering ﾉ petnames ("baby" + "good girl") ﾉ geto is a little mean :3 ﾉ degradation if u squint

your life has changed a lot in the past few months and, strangely enough, it’s not because you’re entering a new phase of it. it’s because you’ve met a new person. a dorm room that isn’t yours has become like a second home to you and a man that you can’t be sure feels the same has all but stolen your heart.

to be lovesick is absolutely humiliating.

you think that much as you lay on geto suguru’s bed. he sits at his desk and you watch as nimble fingers fly across the keyboard of his phone. other than the light hum of music playing from his speaker—so low that you can’t even make out the lyrics—the room is uncomfortably quiet. you speak up to break the silence. “who are you texting?”

“why do you want to know?” he asks, eyes flitting up for just a moment, a short second, to look at you. you hate when people do that—answer a question with another question, but the usual annoyance that causes you to roll your eyes is nowhere to be found in this case. looks like geto is an exception.

he shouldn’t be.

in an attempt to downplay your pestering, you simply shrug. “i’m naturally curious, i suppose.”

suguru clicks his phone off and carelessly slides it across his desk. for the first time since you got here, you feel like you have his undivided attention. you smile at that but the grin on geto’s lips should be enough to warn you that something less pleasant than his attentiveness is coming. “more like naturally nosy.”

you scoff and then pout at his comment, rolling onto your back and focusing your eyes on the ceiling instead of facing him. is it not perfectly reasonable to want to know who’s occupying the attention of the guy who invited you over? you don’t think so but you also know that you selfishly want to be the only thing—the only person—geto is concerned with.

he chuckles and despite it being at your expense, the sound makes your heart flutter in your chest. geto has an effect on you that you can’t really describe, one that makes you just as bothered as it does excited. any flicker of annoyance that sparks within you goes as quickly as it comes and is replaced by a much longer-lasting feeling of longing—yearning.

from the corner of your eye, you can see geto moving. you can feel him, his warmth, getting closer, too. you feign disinterest and indifference by keeping your gaze glued upwards. although, his next words make your ears perk up. “do you really want to know?”

against your better judgment, you turn your head to look at suguru. he’s leaning in his desk chair, one arm thrown over the back of it and legs spread wider than they should be. dark strands of hair spill from the loose bun situated on the back of his head and frame the smooth skin of his face. obsidian eyes bore into you and the grin from earlier is still tugging at his lips. it’s playful but you don’t feel like you’re in on whatever he’s got planned.

still, they don’t say curiosity killed the cat for nothing.

“yeah, i do.”

reaching behind him, geto pulls the elastic out of his hair, letting it fall over his shoulders. you try to ignore the urge to run your fingers through it. as he gathers the silky strands in his hands to tie it up more neatly, he tells you, “it was a girl from my psychology class. she invited me to a party tonight.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying anything impulsive, but the thoughts cloud your mind, nevertheless. why would you tell me that? are you trying to make me jealous? how can you so easily hurt my feelings with a smile on your face?

you’re able to pick out one thought from the rest that doesn’t make you seem envious beyond reason or shine a spotlight on your heartache. “are you gonna go?”

he hums and shrugs. “i’m not sure.”

disappointment fills your chest with his answer but you try not to let it show on your face. you can feel sorry for yourself in silence—geto doesn’t need to pity you, though, you’re not even sure that he would.

but, as you look at him from your place on his bed, you can’t help but think he looks unsatisfied by your lack of reaction. the grin pulling at his lips looks more lazy, like the corners had slowly fallen since he spoke last. “what do you think; should i go?”

you want to tell him no, that he shouldn’t go, that he should spend the night here with you like he’d intended to and not ditch you for some girl that butted in on your plans. but the words are stuck in your throat, an uncomfortable lump that you can’t seem to get out.

“if you want me to stay here with you, then tell me.” his words are almost sweet, encouraging, before the next part. “because if you don’t, i’m leaving.”

you've done a pretty good job of concealing your emotions up until now but you can’t stop the frown that takes over your face as you sit up—the way the corners of your lips tilt down and how your eyebrows scrunch together. “no! i don’t want you to go.”

the thought of some other girl cozying up to suguru creates a flurry of emotions within you—jealousy, anger, insecurity. just imagining someone else on his lap, someone else playing with his hair, someone else kissing him makes you sick. you can’t hide how that affects you no matter how hard you try.

it seems as though your mini-outburst is exactly what geto was looking for. something about the way you’re wrapped around his finger floods the man with a sense of accomplishment. you’re practically putty in his hands—his to shape and mold. and he likes it. he likes it a lot.

“oh?” he can’t stop the way the corners of his lips turn up. he leans forward the slightest bit but the short distance brings him closer to you. “why don’t you show me how much you want me to stay?”

your tongue pokes out to wet your lips and the little motion catches geto’s attention. the obsidian shards that are his eyes follow the glistening stripe your tongue leaves behind before flitting up to meet your gaze. there’s expectation swimming in the dark irises. that and the fear of the man standing up and walking out the door urge you forward.

his lips against yours are soft, pillowy, like a marshmallow and his breath is minty. the two make for an intoxicating mixture and, suddenly, you can’t get enough of him. a whiny whimper of yours sounds throughout the quiet air of the dorm and the noise, as indistinct as it is, seems to convey every bit of your need to geto.

and he’s more than willing to give.

a hand makes its way to your neck, fingers tipping your head back and firmly holding you in place as suguru deepens the kiss. your tongues meet in a messy, passionate dance and it almost feels like you don’t need to come up for air—his kiss is all the oxygen you need. at least, that’s what you think.

by the time you pull away, your lips are tingling and the taste of the man lingers.

“that’s all?” his eyebrow quirks with his question. “with the way you were pouting earlier, i thought you really wanted me to stick around.”

“i do,” you tell him, trying to keep the neediness out of your voice. that part is easier said than done. the way he’s staring you down with such intense anticipation makes you eager to please and turns you on more than you’d like to admit.

you rub your thighs together in an attempt to grant yourself some relief. the movement isn’t as subtle as you think or geto is more observant than you’d ever realized because his eyes drift down to your legs, curiosity—or maybe enthusiasm—glimmering in them.

and it takes almost no time at all for his hands to rest on your knees. they’re cool to the touch and your skin beneath them erupts with goosebumps at the contact. his palms make their way up your legs, over your thighs, and under the fabric of your skirt agonizingly slowly. you’re growing warmer by the second and it feels like you’re on fire by the time his fingers finally graze the lace of your underwear.

it’s a struggle not to squirm with his hands so close—mere centimeters away from where you desperately want him. the pad of his thumb runs over the trim of your panties, so slowly that you’re sure he’s teasing you on purpose. still, you keep any sounds of protest from bubbling up your throat in concern that your impatience will only come to your detriment.

your choice to stay quiet for the time being is rewarded when geto’s thumb ghosts over your clit. it hovers for a moment before pushing against the sensitive pearl, drawing a sharp gasp from your chest. it’s only now that you realize your panties are practically sticking to you.

“now this is convincing.” you wouldn’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s smiling—you can hear it in his voice. his gaze flicks up to you with his next words. “are you this wet from one little kiss, baby?”

your head moves up and down in a bashful nod. that earns a laugh from geto, a small one that he breathes out through his nose. you don’t have time to pout at him before all of your focus turns to the way his thumb begins to circle against your clit. you have to try twice as hard to concentrate on any of his questions. “is this why you wanted me to stay? so i could touch you? so i could fuck you with my fingers?”

it feels embarrassing—shameful—to say yes. and, beyond how heavenly his hands feel on you, what you really wanted, more than anything, was for him to choose you.

“tell me.” his thumb slows. “if you don’t, i’ll stop.”

your heart jumps at that and your answer comes soon after. “i want you to touch me. i want you to make me come.”

geto’s lips stretch into a smile. “good girl.”

deft fingers hook your panties to move them to the side. the air that meets your wetness makes you suck in a breath that you nearly choke on when those very same fingers start gliding between your folds. they work at spreading and collecting your essence, all while his thumb continues to swirl the sensitive nub.

your soft moans are music to geto’s ears but he can’t help but want more, can’t help but want you louder. he bites back a grin as his middle finger probes at your hole, teases your opening. his eyes flit up to read your reaction and he takes note of the way your eyes ever so slightly widen as he slowly pushes into you.

geto lets out a breath before letting himself smile. “this pretty pussy stretches so good for me, yeah?”

it’s always a surprise just how filling one of his fingers is—how much one of his fingers can set your nerves ablaze. and maybe you should be embarrassed at how little it takes—a finger and some dirty talk—for pleasure to build in your abdomen, for heat to pool in your cheeks, but the bliss outweighs any shame buzzing within you.

“feels s’good,” you tell him, the statement punctuated by a whimper. the words come out slurred, the spit pooling in your mouth meshing them together.

your declaration is all the motivation geto needs to continue plunging his finger in and out of you, to keep circling your swollen clit. his hunger grows with your pleasure and the man is beginning to think that he wants you to orgasm as much as you do. he licks his lips before letting another finger delve between your folds.

the invasion makes your eyes squeeze shut and your lips fall apart. despite the hint of pain, once you’ve adjusted to the newfound fullness, the addition is all the more satisfying. the way his knuckles graze against your walls and the way the pads of his fingers curl up and push against the spongy spot that fuels the fire within you bring you all the closer to your precipice. you’re practically writhing on his fingers in only a matter of minutes and all it takes to snap the tension and push you over the edge is the harsh feel of geto’s thumb flicking over your clit

you come undone on his fingers, crying out his name without a care as to who can hear on the other side of the thin walls of his dorm. the only thing you’re concerned with at the moment is how geto works you down from your high, lets his fingers leisurely pump in and out of you.

he takes note of how pretty you look with a sheen of sweat glazed over your face and how you can’t seem to control just how shaky your thighs are. you really are fun to play with.

and, luckily for you, you’ve done a good job of convincing him to stay.

as geto finally pulls his fingers out from you, he reaches for the buckle of his belt with his other hand. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “should i fuck you for real now?”

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#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x you #jjk x you #geto smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto drabble #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #𐙚 after hours

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