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sapphire-writes · 1 month

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Doomsday

Part 5 (finale) of The Campaign

modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: The polls have closed! Time to see the results of the election– and those saucy little photos that someone leaked.

word count: 4.6k

rating: explicit/18+/MDNI

warnings: language, kissing, yelling, dom!reader (we're topping tonight baby!!), crawling, begging, humiliation, degradation, praise, face sitting, oral (fem receiving), dom!Aemond (the top didn't last long), primal play if you squint, Counter® shenanigans, riding, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, mentions of infidelity

The waiting was going to kill you.

Rhaenyra had told you to arrive at nine. Sharp. Nothing else was in the email. Nothing else needed to be.

You knew why she wanted to see you.

The pictures of you and Aemond had been plastered everywhere. The Daily Lion, The Sunspear Herald, and even Beyond The Wall Times. Everywhere.

Not right away of course, oh no. Aemond was much too clever for that to have them leak at an inconvenient time. No, he’d waited and held onto that ticking time bomb until the proper moment.

A week before the election.

That’s when the world came crashing down.

You hadn’t seen him since the Hamptons. Months ago. He’d tried calling, texting, and sending emails. It was better to ignore him. You had nothing to say anyway.

You glance at the clock that ticks outside of Rhaenyra’s office in Dragonstone Tower.

9:17

Rhaenyra is nothing if not punctual. She’s probably coming up with the proper way to let you go. It's not an easy feat– you’re easily one of her best.

Were. You were one of her best.

Your eyes squeeze shut. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. You take out your phone, mindlessly scrolling to pass the time. Polls close at eight. You get off the news and go to your messages. Still nothing from Jace. You hadn’t heard from him since the drop. It was easy to assume things were over between you two.

“Ms. Targaryen will see you now,” the assistant at the front desk tells you and you slip your phone into your pocket.

Rising on shaky legs, you take a breath to steady yourself before straightening your shoulders and heading into the office.

Rhaenyra sits behind a large desk, one hand incessantly clicking her computer mouse, the other playing with a crystal sphere. She rolls it under her palm, the sound echoing off the wood. You’ve been here a few times before; the office is open and inviting, with large windows bathing the room in golden afternoon light.

She still doesn’t speak, and you nervously wet your lips, preparing to verbally flagellate yourself before her.

“Rhaenyra–” you begin, but she silences you with a hand, not looking away from the computer screen in front of her.

“Do you see what they’re saying now?” she murmurs, hand under her chin, “Rhaenyra the Cruel… did you know what they called me when my father was alive?”

You’re not sure if the question is rhetorical or not so you remain silent. Rhaenyra glances at you then and you shake your head.

“The Realm’s Delight. Quite the fall from grace if you ask me,” she clicks her tongue and closes a tab, leaning back into her chair, “Take a seat.”

You do as you’re told, sinking into the leather armchair positioned in front of her.

“So,” she begins, bringing her hand under her chin, “Quite the predicament you’re in.”

Your chest tightens as you meet her lilac eyes.

“Rhaenyra I am so sorry,” the words spill from your lips, “I never meant for any of this to happen. The embarrassment I’ve caused you– to Jace. I completely understand asking for my resignation or dismissal. I deserve to be dismissed I–”

“Sweet girl, I’m not dismissing you,” Rhaenyra says, her brow furrowing, a soft expression on her face.

Your heart hammers in your chest, face flooding with warmth.

“You’re not….” your voice trails off, sounding smaller than you’d like, “you’re not firing me?”

The corner of Rhaenyra’s lip tugs upwards in a small smile.

“That would be quite hypocritical of me, now wouldn’t it?” she says softly, leaning her elbow on her desk, “You haven’t done anything that warrants that.”

“But Jace—”

“—knew exactly what he was doing when he hired the photographers in the first place,” she finished, cutting you off.

Your heart nearly stops beating altogether.

Jace.

“He’s smarter than he looks,” Rhaenyra tells you, absorbing your flustered expression.

“But…why—”

“You were a loose end,” she tells you, “And you were getting sloppy. There’s enough scandal my family deals with. Jace is my son. My first child. You’ve got a smart head on your shoulders, invaluable to our campaign….but you don’t love him.”

The truth of her words cuts through you like a knife. A dull ache forms between your ribs, and that horrible thought appears in your head, the one you’ve been trying to push away for months now.

I’m a bad person.

No, that’s not true. It just wasn’t Jace. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been him.

“I could have,” you insist, “Maybe.”

Liar.

“Don’t,” Rhaenrya says with a small shake of her head, “Don’t do that. Don’t settle for duty’s sake. Don’t dismiss your desires for that.” Her voice is rough and thick with emotion.

She did, you think to yourself. She still does.

“You’ll sign a non-disclosure agreement of course,” she says, rolling her eyes, “It’s being drafted as we speak. Necessary, of course, not a slight against your trustworthiness.”

“I understand.”

“I had no doubt you would. There is greatness in you, raw talent,” she continues, “With or without him.”

You can tell from the look she gives you it’s not Jace whom she refers to. Your lips part, but no words come out. Rhaenyra presses her lips together, nodding to herself.

“I’ll expect you here tomorrow, regardless of the results,” she says, going back to her computer. Her eyes flicker across the screen for a moment before looking back to you. She waves a hand, dismissing you, “That’s all.”

Jace is waiting when you leave Rhaenyra’s office. His head hangs low as you approach, brown curls longer since the last time you’d seen him. He offers a forced smile, avoiding your gaze.

“Why?”

You know it's unfair of you to ask. The scorned lover selling pictures of his scandalous cheating girlfriend. Revenge served cold on a silver platter. Everyone was siding with Jace, as they should. You knew you were in the wrong. Jace opens his mouth to speak, then closes it once more.

“You could have–,” you struggle to find the words, “You could have talked to me–”

“I just can’t end up like my dad,” Jace admits, “Married to someone who doesn’t….who isn’t..” his cheeks turn pink, “I care about you, Y/N, I do…..and I want you to be happy. And being with me won’t bring you that.” Jace lets out a deep sigh, “And as much as I care about you, I’m not in love with you.”

Your heart drops into your stomach and your blinking rapidly increases, “I didn’t–”

“What?” Jace asks with a small smile, “I’m not completely clueless.”

It’s your turn to blush as he reaches for your hand, gently squeezing it.

“It’s alright to be selfish,” he says softly, his brown eyes warm and kind as they hold your gaze, “You deserve to be.”

You inhale a shaky breath and return his smile with one of your own. He gives your hand a final squeeze before letting go–letting you go.

As he turns down the hall you call out to him.

“Jace!”

He turns on his heel, walking backward.

“Thank you.”

He shrugs, “Don’t thank me yet,” he warns and you don’t have time to ask him why before he rounds the corner, disappearing from your sight.

“You lucky bitch.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” you chuckle at Sara’s reaction to your news, propping your phone on the counter.

Sara shakes her head in disbelief before the Facetime cuts, a small warning signal replacing her smiling face.

“Where are you?” you ask, tapping the screen.

“Can you see me?” she asks.

“No.”

“Goddammit,” she groans, “I’m at Kingsroad Station. Mr. Stark paged me– he’s working late to watch the election results at the office.”

“You’re a dutiful assistant, trudging to Direwolf at this hour,” you tease, glancing at the clock. Election results should be out within the hour.

“Oh you know it,” she barks out a laugh, “I had to go downtown and pick up his dinner.”

“You wanna rain check our evening?”

“Fuck no!” she insists, and you can practically hear her pout, “I’ll Uber from Direwolf, and be there by midnight.”

“If you don’t get caught up,” you continue to tease your best friend.

“For the last time, I am not sleeping with him.”

You frown. Something was definitely up with them.

“You know you can tell me,” you press, “I’d never judge you.”

Sara sighs, “Yeah you better not, you tart. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Love you,” you tell her, and she returns the sentiment before the Facetime ends.

You place your phone face down on the counter, glancing at the TV in your living room. You’ve had the news on all evening, on mute of course. There’s no need for commentary. You just want to see how Rhaenyra is fairing in the polls.

The green and black bar at the bottom of the screen looks about equal.

Wandering around your kitchen you open the fridge pulling out a half-empty bottle of wine. Pouring yourself a generous glass you take a long sip, letting the alcohol warm you.

It’s been a waiting game all evening. All year, truly.

A knock startles you, and you put your glass on the counter and towards the door. It’s so like Sarah Snow to show up early when she says she’ll be running late.

“I thought you got caught up–” Your words die in your throat as you open the door revealing Aemond.

If you weren’t so surprised you would have slammed it shut in his face, but the pause gives him the leverage he needs. You’re a moment too slow and he presses his foot between the door frame as you try to shut it, his hand slamming against the wood keeping it open.

“Go away,” you tell him, continuing to push.

“Just listen to me–”

“I have nothing to say to you–”

“I’m not asking you to talk. Just listen,” Aemond insists, his voice breaking with desperation, “Five minutes. Please.”

Reluctantly, you remove your hand from the door. With a frustrated sigh, you turn on your heel, walking down the hall. Aemond follows close behind, shutting the door behind him.

“Three,” you call over your shoulder, grabbing your wine glass. You take a sip for courage, beginning to turn to face him, “And if you so much as–” you nearly drop your glass as you face him.

Aemond’s hand is held out before him, Jace’s necklace dangling from his slender fingers. The diamond J catches the light, sparkling. Your mouth goes dry, cheeks warming at the sight. Eyes lifting to meet his, you can’t find the words to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “Look….I never…this wasn’t…” Aemond takes a deep breath, steadying himself, “I’m not good at this.”

The J swings from the chain, a pendulum on a string.

“I knew it,” you whisper, hand reaching up to your throat, feeling where it should lay.

“It was just a game,” he insists, “Until it wasn’t.” Your eyes lift from the necklace, meeting his gaze. “That night on the beach….” He lowers his arm. The pendulum swings. “Look if you don’t feel the same–”

Your stomach turns.

“Go,” you breathe, barely audible.

Aemond tilts his head to the side and murmurs your name causing your eyes to squeeze shut.

“I want you out.”

“What can I do?” he begs, “Please.”

“Go grovel to someone who cares,” you snap, eyes opening, “Storm’s End, perhaps? Seems like you have some making up to do with Floris.”

You step forward, snatching the necklace from him, and throwing it against the wall. It bounces off with a small noise before dropping to the floor. Aemond’s tongue pokes his cheek, his eyes flashing with anger.

“I don’t fucking want Floris!” he snaps, “I want you.”

You freeze, watching his chest rise and fall with anger.

“You didn’t want her?” you ask and he shakes his head, “Did you fuck her?”

Aemond’s eye widens, a fraction of an inch but it's noticeable. A bitter laugh leaves your lips.

“It was before we–”

“You men are all the same,” you seethe, glaring at him, “Pretty words and no action. Of course, you fucked her.”

“Y/N, it was before us, before we ever–look I haven’t so much as touched her since we–”

“Well then here’s your chance!” you interrupt, “I’m sure she’s a wreck. Wallowing on her yacht just waiting for you to jump her bones.”

Aemond flinches as though you’d slapped him.

“Stop it.”

“You’re so talented with that tongue, useless apologies included. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste–”

“Seven hells enough!”

His yell silences you. You stand before each other, chests heaving with anger.

“You want forgiveness?” you ask, cocking a brow at him, “Get on your knees.”

Aemond’s eyes widen at your words.

“What?”

“You heard me,” you snap, cheeks warm with rage, “On your knees.”

There’s a moment where you think he’ll leave. Where he’ll say to hells with you and storm out of the apartment, go to Floris, and leave whatever happened between you in the past.

Instead, he drops to his knees with a soft thud. Your lips part, admittedly surprised by his sudden submission. He doesn’t put up a fight and doesn’t give a tongue-in-cheek retort. He simply raises his gaze looking up at you between silver lashes.

You take a few steps back just as his hands begin to reach for you. You revel in his confusion, as his eyebrows knit together, and a smirk appears on your face.

“Crawl.”

His Adam’s apple bobs and you hold his gaze, violet and blue eye watching you closely. It takes a moment, but Aemond slowly lowers his torso until it is parallel with the floor; his palms splayed across the wood floor.

Aemond releases a shuddering breath, glancing up at you between silvery lashes, long hair cascading in front of his face shielding the redness that blooms on the apples of his pale cheeks. Blood roars in your ears as he begins to move, crawling towards you. His movements are slow and purposeful and you grin triumphantly as he reaches you.

“Satisfied?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

The corner of your lip twitches. Aemond meets your eye at your continued silence.

“Beg.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” you tell him, surprised at the dominating tone in your voice, “You’re sorry? Beg me. Beg my forgiveness.”

Aemond pushes himself onto his knees, leaning back on his haunches. He swallows, eyes watery.

“Please,” he says softly.

You reach for him and brush the hair from his face. He closes his eyes at your touch.

“Please, what?”

“Please forgive me,” he says through gritted teeth.

You hum, letting your fingers trace the scar that mars his face.

“I don’t know if I’m convinced.”

Aemond groans as you trace his jawline, letting your fingers press against the pout of his lips. He parts them as you push forward, pressing down on his tongue.

“Please,” he says, though he struggles to around your fingers.

You huff out a laugh, removing the digits.

“Pathetic.”

“Please! Let me prove how sorry I am,” he insists, hands gripping the back of your thighs as you attempt to step away, “Please…please let me.”

You raise an eyebrow at his desperate plea.

“Let you what?” you ask innocently.

“Let me eat your pussy–baby, please–”

“You think you deserve to?” you cut him off, placing two fingers under his chin.

“No, no I don’t,” he says, shaking his head, fingers digging into your thighs, “But I want to make you feel good, please–”

You tilt your head to the side, taking in the man beneath you.

“Lay down then,” you tell him, “On your back.”

Aemond eagerly obliges as you remove your sweats. Nothing remains underneath. You choose to leave your oversized t-shirt on. It’s your turn to kneel, sinking to the hardwood floor.

“Don’t move,” you tell him, crawling over him until your pussy rests above his face, “You touch me with anything besides that tongue of yours, and I’m getting off, and you’re getting out. Got it?”

“Yes,” he says softly, warm breath fanning across your soaked center.

“Good,” you praise him, lowering your cunt to his eager mouth.

Aemond moans against you as he spreads your wet folds with his tongue. He greedily laps at your pussy as you grind against him, pleasure crawling up your spine and warming your belly with every stroke of his tongue.

Your hands reach up to play with your tits, pinching and tugging your sensitive nipples as he works his magic. His tongue stiffens below you, dipping into your clenching center and you can’t stop the whine that claws its way out of your throat. Head thrown back, you lift your hips, ignoring the burn in your hamstrings as you ride his face as his tongue explores deeper inside of you.

You’ve never had him like this, completely at your mercy, lying stiff and compliant below you with his hands curled into fists at his sides. The veins on the back of his hands are bulging, as though his control might snap at any minute.

You simply can’t help but taunt him a bit.

“So good,” you moan with another roll of your hips, “Feels so good Aem–”

A muffled broken whimper sounds from below you and he picks up the pace, tongue eagerly fucking up into you, meeting the movements of your hips. His nose cascades against your clit so pleasantly stoking the fire building in your belly, the tightening of your release soon to follow. Your knees ache pressed against the hardwood.

“Fuck–fuck!” your legs shake around his head as you fall apart, fingers tangling in his hair as his lips suction around your clit. Pleasure crackles through your veins like fireworks exploding in the night sky.

You wait a moment, Aemond not moving, before swinging a leg over him and crawling off his face. You scoot backward, tugging your oversized t-shirt down over your ass as your back meets the wall. You try to even your breathing, wiping some sweat from your brow as he sits up, the bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal.

“Better?” he asks, pushing himself into a standing position, and offering you his hand.

You chuckle breathlessly, but accept all the same, letting him pull you to your feet.

“Fantastic,” you answer. Aemond nods, wiping his mouth with his middle and index finger before sucking them into his mouth.

“Had your fun?” he murmurs, watching you.

“For now,” you tell him, smirking again.

He reaches for you and you dip out of reach. A dangerous glint appears in his eyes as he reaches for you again. You avoid his reach, dipping under his arm and hurrying into the kitchen. Aemond follows, a wolf stalking its prey. You’re sure he’s allowing you this chase, he could catch you if he wanted to.

You press your back against the island as he rounds the corner, fingers dragging across the marble countertop. You don’t move, don’t breathe as he slowly walks closer.

“You done?” he asks, his mouth hovering over yours.

“I’m never done,” you whisper, leaning forward and nipping his lower lip, “You better get used to it.”

Aemond groans, his hand cupping the back of your head and molding his lips to yours.

Everything that follows is shrouded in a desperate lust-filled haze. His hands cup the globes of your ass, lifting you onto the island. You tear his shirt from his chiseled frame, and he does the same with yours, leaving you bare on the counter.

“Should I?” he asks, dipping to kiss the spot between your shoulder and neck. You bite your lip, raking your nails against his scalp, “Shall I assume you’ve forgiven me?”

“Just fuck me Targaryen,” you tell him breathlessly, “Then we’ll see.”

He needs no more convincing.

You pull at his belt, shove his pants down releasing his thick cock, reveling in the way his jaw slacks as you squeeze him in your hand.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as you guide him towards your dripping center, “Gods you’re so beautiful.”

You bite your lip, humming happily at his praise as he slowly sinks inside of you. Your eyebrows concave, tears welling in your eyes at the generous stretch. It’s been a while since you’d had him–since you felt this deliciously full. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed him, how hungry you’d been for this feeling until now.

Aemond bottoms out, not moving for a moment, simply resting his forehead against yours. His blue and violet eyes meet yours as you steady your breath.

“You alright?” he asks, his lips brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you breathe, “Feels..” You lose your train of thought as he moves his hips, dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he slowly rolls his hips against you. “So good.”

“You know how much I missed this pussy?” Aemond murmurs, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, “It’s all I fucking think about. This pretty. Little. Pussy of yours.” He punctuates his confession with several hard thrusts.

One of your hands falls to the counter, holding yourself up, the other thrown around his neck, a fistful of his silver hair trapped in your grasp. Aemond’s hands hold your hips, hard enough to bruise as he continues his hard, even strokes.

“Fuck,” you mewl arching your back, pressing your chest closer to him. Anything to get closer.

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he admits, a muscle in his jaw twitching, “Since the benefit. The hotel. The fucking Hamptons.” His head dips to your neck and he bites down causing you to cry out, “You like that? Driving me crazy?” You clench around him, walls fluttering.

You’ve never heard Aemond so emotional, so raw. Almost vulnerable.

“Then you don’t speak to me,” Aemond says, placing a kiss on your collarbone, “Fucking brat.”

“Fuck you,” you snap, tugging his hair and forcing him to look at you, “You hurt me.”

Aemond stills, holding your gaze.

“You hurt me,” you repeat, feeling him throbbing inside of you as you keep him warm, “What you said, on the beach….” Your eyes water, “I believed you–”

“I meant it,” he says suddenly, “Every word. Every word, and more.”

“More?” you ask.

Aemond tilts his head to the side.

“I’m in love with you,” he says, as though it should be obvious. As if your world hasn’t just completely tilted on its axis. “I’ve been in love with you. And I don’t plan on stopping.”

Your lips part.

“I’ve tried. Tried to ignore it, to do what is expected of me,” he admits, “It’s no use. There’s no getting over you. It’s you.”

“I love you too,” you tell him, and his lips crash against yours.

Aemond lifts you from the counter then, still nestled inside of you before bringing you to the couch. He sits and you push yourself up, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you begin to ride him. All the while he doesn’t stop kissing you, smiling as he does so.

“That’s it,” he praises as you roll your hips against him, “Just like that baby, that’s my girl.”

You whine at his words and grind down against him, taking him as deep as you can. Aemond breaks your kiss momentarily to wet his fingers, dipping them between you to massage your sensitive clit. Your body tightens, your jaw slacking at the additional stimulation as your thighs begin to shake.

“I can’t–” you insist, legs tiring. Aemond flips you over immediately, laying your back on the couch and slinging your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Poor baby,” he teases, his tone boarding on condescending, “She just wants to get fucked, doesn’t she?” He quickly sets a brutal pace, the head of his cock rubbing against your G-spot with each thrust.

Stars appear behind your eyes and you can’t help the sob-like moan that leaves your mouth. Aemond’s open-mouthed grin is answer enough to how fucked out you must look and sound.

“This all you need?” he taunts, “Just need me to fuck you real good?”

“Yes!” you cry out, nearly choking on the word.

“I got you, baby, I got you,” he murmurs, “Let me do all the work. You just lay there and look pretty.”

“Oh gods–” you cry, “Fuck!” Your pussy spasms around him as you come, clenching around his thick cock with a vice-like grip. Aemond’s jaw slacks and he moans, finishing inside of you. The warmth of his release fills you.

He pulls out slowly, letting your legs fall gently to the couch. Aemond leans back, dropping to the floor in front of the couch, his large hands holding your thighs open. Your head feels like it’s full of cotton and you watch him as a fucked out smile appears on your face. Aemond’s fingers gently spread through your outer lips, watching as his spend drips out of you.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, leaning forward and kissing your pussy. You squeal in surprise as he holds your thighs open, lewd slurping noises filling the room.

“Aemond! Seven hells–” you whimper as your head lolls on the couch. Your hand finds his hair once more, holding onto it for dear life as he slips two eager fingers inside of you.

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your clit, “You’re too pretty when you come.” He curls his fingers against your g-spot, a man on a mission, “Show me, pretty girl. Come on, come for me again.”

His mouth latches onto your clit and he hums as he suctions it between his pouty lips. Pressure builds quickly in your stomach and it's all too much, your third release barely through you knocking the wind from your lungs.

“There it is,” he murmurs as he feels you tighten around his fingers, “There’s my pretty, pretty girl.”

You finish with a cry, tears spilling down your cheeks at the overwhelming ecstasy. Aemond presses soft kisses against your thighs as you come down from your high. He removes his fingers carefully before helping you. He wanders around your apartment before finding the bathroom, returning a moment later with a damp washcloth.

“You have a nice tub,” he says softly, “Would you like a bath?”

The thought is so enticing that you nearly melt into the couch.

“Later,” you murmur, “I want to see the results.”

“Later then,” he agrees, watching you closely.

You don’t want to speak, don’t want to ruin the moment between you, but you can’t help it. Anxiety pools in your belly as he kneels between your legs, dragging the washcloth against you gently.

“What now?” you ask softly, avoiding his gaze.

“Now….” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, “I’m not sure.” He reaches toward your face, forcing you to look at him. “But whatever is next, we’re in it together. If that’s alright with you.”

You lean into his hand, pressing your lips against his palm.

“That’s alright with me.”

After several minutes of Aemond cleaning you up, you return to the couch dressed back in your sweatpants and t-shirt. Aemond has retrieved his pants from the kitchen as you glance at the television.

“Holy shit,” you say sitting up, eyes glued on the television, “Holy fuck.”

Aemond turns following your gaze and looking at the screen. His eyebrows raise.

“Well fuck,” he says suddenly, and you hear your phone begin to buzz from the kitchen. Aemond’s as well; the vibrations buzzing against the floor where it must have slipped out of his pant pocket. “Son of bitch did it.”

You meet his eyes before staring at the screen once more. At the blond man popping champagne at his victory party. At the green letters across the bottom of the television.

Aegon Targaryen wins!

note: thank you for the love with this series that wasn't supposed to become a series- I appreciate you all sticking it out for this one and hope you enjoyed it! lots of love MWAH 💋 Jo

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429 notes · View notes

fanon-canon-idfk · 2 months

Note

BRO PLS UR POLY SKK I NEED

Using this as an excuse to ramble abt it more in the form of scenarios!!

Cuddling at night:

Dazai is the triple little spoon

The order goes you, Chuuya, then Dazai

Chuuya’s back against your chest as you spoon him all the while you’re both simultaneously spooning Dazai

Occasionally you switch it up and Chuuya still likes to be in the middle then

Dazai and you playing rock paper scissors for who gets to hug his waist

Dazai usually unfortunately wins….

It’s ok bc the way Chuuya plays with both of your hair as you lay on his chest and Dazai lays on his stomach is heavenly

Lap sitting

Dazai is a lap sitter yall

Chuuya won’t be thinking abt it as you’re all sat on the couch until Dazai comes back from the kitchen and sits right on one of your thighs,

Knowing well why he left your other thigh free

Chuuya was nervous the first time he did so he really just begrudgingly scooted closer slowly until you helped ease him onto your lap

But now when he sees it he just chuckles and scoffs before sitting right on your leftover thigh

Dazai also likes Chuuya’s lap a lot

He has really muscular thighs it’s the perfect chair

Imagine him forcing both of you to put one of each of your legs together so he can sit on both

He’s spoiled like that

Kissing

Chuuya is a slow and sensual kinda guy

Meanwhile Dazai lives to be sultry and teasing with his kisses

Chuuya and Dazai ofc make it a competition to see whose kisses you crave more

They tally down how many times you lean back in after they part a kiss or how many times you initiate a kiss first

That’s when they both realized it was a tie by the end of the day

Then they end up bickering

And making out afterwards

Working together

If you’re in the port mafia

Dazai sneaks in (by sneak I mean cockily waltz right in) and comes to bother both of you in either of your offices

You’ll come to talk to Chuuya and the second you open the door be met with them kissing with Dazai in Chuuya’s lap

Now, if you’re in the ADA

Chuuya brings you both lunch to work

Nobody stops him ofc they know better

Dazai will send him photos and videos of you both in the office or cafe together in your group chat

These messages vary from him using funny filters on your face as you work to you two kissing (with Kunikida watching in disgust)

Going out

Not even just dates

You guys get up to enough trouble just being at the grocery store

Within 10 minutes you and Chuuya lose Dazai and have to play Marco Polo to figure out which isle he’s in

Dazai stuffs a million meaningless things into the cart and Chuuya puts them back right after

They bicker about it in the middle of the store

You’re just trying to push the cart but have to be stopped by their shenanigans

It is a very challenging process

Now as for dates

Dazai is so open to PDA

Chuuya is blushing in pure embarrassment as Dazai clings onto him (nothing outside his boundaries however!!)

If you’re ok with it then it’s you and Dazai making out or kissing both sides of Chuuya’s face in a restaurant as his face heats up

ALL RIGHT IM OUT OF SCENARIOS GIVE ME MORE IF YOU HAVE ANY!!! I LOVE BEING IN A POLY RELATIONSHIP WITH SKK!!!!

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

Hey love!! May I request how genshin men would react to getting jokingly sparked from behind by their s/o for the first time? (Zhongli, Pantalone, Diluc, Ayato, Capitano and some else you’d like to add!!) Tysm and I love your blog💙💙😫

Pfft, this is hilarious Anon, thank you for making me laugh with this request.

Pairing: Diluc, Ayato, Pantalone, Capitano, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, slightly smutty, teasing, spanking, kissing, grinding, tail shenanigans (Zhongli)

A/N: I would smack Zhongli's ass, have you seen that man's cake?

Diluc turns around all wide eyes, his hands on his ass, almost knocking over the bottles in the process. The moment he sees you laughing about how he reacted he starts pouting at your joke. There is a time and a place for things like these and work is not it. If he can't spank you, then you can't spank him. Well... you never said that he can't, in fact you'll even bend over for him. Oh if you do that now then spanking you won't be your only punishment.

Ayato blinks at you very slowly, looks at your hand, then back at your face. He had no idea you were into that sort of thing. He thought he sensed someone looking at him from behind but he never would have guessed it was his, seemingly innocent, girlfriend. Not so innocent after all if you'd to this in broad daylight. What other dirty secrets have you been hiding? Will he find out if he pushes you against the wall right now and spreads your legs for him. Does it get you excited to be lewd in places where others can see? It certainly seems so.

Pantalone doesn't react at first, he shows no sign of even noticing you did it. He just takes his seat at his office chair and hums, setting the papers for the day. Then after everything is neat and organized he looks at you and pats his lap, inviting you to sit. The moment you do you can feel how excited he is. He's not one to like pain usually and that's not what got him feeling that way, its the fact that you were brave enough to do it. With both hands he slaps your ass cheeks, the slaps echoing around his office, accompanied by your moans as you start rolling your his against him with every loud smack.

Capitano is very surprised that you saw it fit to slap him like you did, on his ass no less. Interesting. Are you inching for a punishment perhaps? Or are you trying to test your luck. Both will get you bent over his knee an have your underwear down your legs so he can leave his marks on you, he just wants to know if you were curious or if you were just misbehaving like a undisciplined dog, a bitch that needed scolding.

Zhongli barely lets your hand get inches away from him when his dragon tail wraps all the way around your arm and keeps you in place as he turns to look your way. Hm. Laying your hands on him in such a way, even as a joke, in the older days would mean severe punishment and even death. Now... he can still punish you, he should punish you, the only question is how will you take the punishment. On your knees like a good girl, or will he have to teach that pretty ass of yours a lesson first, the choice is yours. Although by the smirk on your face he knows you'll make this harder for him, and more pleasurable for yourself.

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the-californicationist · 2 months

Note

This will be the first request I’ve ever made, I want you. Only if you can. Price coming home in this, whatever mission it is, needs and wants his princess. Marvin Gaye, Sade, maybe? And naughty shenanigans, kisses!!! Thanks thanks and hugs!!! 👑💜

And He Spoke of His Dreams

Song inspo: Like a Tattoo by Sade

Thanks for the ask! Hope this is what you wanted! TW: fem reader

It was late, too late, when John's keys finally rattled in the door. In front of you, meticulously placed on the table, was his icy cold dinner, two candles burned down to their ends, their wax dripping onto the pale tablecloth, and an empty bottle of wine you had meant to share. Your lips were stained red, as if your mouth was bloody, like a lioness over her kill, panting and wrathful. Stained. Stained with it.

He sighed, but he didn't say anything. He was wearing The Suit. He only owned the one. It was the funeral suit, and the wedding suit, and it was the suit that he wore when Laswell called him down to the base for these late-night chats about all the things he should be doing more (or less) of. About how it was his fault that Makarov escaped. About how it was his fault that all of the intel had been tainted. About how it was his fault.

What were you going to do? Tell him he was late to his own birthday dinner? Tell him you hadn't seen him in days even though he should have been home from duty? Tell him you had been waiting for him, pacing for him outside of the door to his home office, hoping that you could find a reason to barge in there and demand his attention?

What good would it do? What were you against the importance of Terrorism?

"Hey, love."

His voice was smoke and brimstone, sparking even though his ire wasn't pointed toward you. He had been yelling. You'd been married to him long enough that you could hear it in his timbre.

"Have a seat, John. I'll warm it up for you."

You tried to hide your frustration, but it oozed around your words like a fetid stench, and he could smell it.

"Sit down."

You sat. He was still a commander. Sometimes he shed that mantle on the drive home... and sometimes he didn't. You could tell he was fighting it. You could see how he heard his own command and winced from it, flogged from his own whip in some sort of self-inflicted flagellation. He hurt himself when he struck you with those words.

John pulled out the chair and drug it across the floor unceremoniously and without care. The legs banged along the ground and slammed down as he fixed the seat in position right in front of you. He sat and you heard the wooden chair groan. He kept his knees spread wide apart, framing you inside of them. As he leaned forward, his black tie fell into the empty hole between you. His hands played with the hem of your dress, and you could feel the backs of his knuckles on his skin.

"Laswell wants me to send me and my men back to the field, and I told her I wouldn't. Bad intel. Went round and round and round..." his volume started low, but it began to increase, like a rising flame in a pile of tinder, "It was like she couldn't hear me. Like she wouldn't..."

He had more to say, but he stopped. You knew that he had a whole rant bottled up in there, but if he let it out, he'd be back in that familiar rage, wearing it like a second skin, and he promised you wouldn't see him in that way. Not again. There had been such a peace.

You weren't sure what made you do it, but you kissed him. You felt your lips purse and press into his mustache, tickled by it, wetting the hairs. You felt the fullness of his soft lips as he responded to you, kissing you back but pulling away.

"Darlin'..."

You attacked, deciding to show him just how darling you could be, deepening the kiss, and giving your tongue to him. If he wouldn't eat his dinner, you would feed him something else.

He relented, enticed by your surprise offering, and any part of him that wanted to hold onto that old, comfortable anger was happy to put its paws on something softer.

John wrapped his arms around you, devouring you with his mouth, pushing at your jaw and forcing you to collapse into him with his immense body leaning on you. He pulled you up, making the chairs scream again as your legs jostled them away.

"C'mon, love. C'mon."

He was speaking into your mouth, filling the hollow of your cheeks with his own words, groping you and caressing you wherever he could manage. As he held you, he moved you into the bedroom, bullying you into an awkward, all-encompassing dance, eager to lead.

His shirt buttons caved under your effort, and he managed to loosen his tie enough to let it flutter down to the floor, trampled by your feet. You found his undershirt and tugged at it, using your hands to venture underneath to pet his belly and make him gasp.

"Bloody hell. Wha's gotten into you, missus?"

His shirt peeled away from his back.

"Don't wanna hear about your shitty day," you hissed.

The top two buttons of your dress were undone.

"Oh? Why's that?"

His hands rucking up your skirt, trying to pull it off of you.

"I wanna feel your shitty day," you smiled, licking your lips, "I wanna feel every bit of it. Give it to me. Let me feel you. I wanna feel you."

You prayed that he understood you. He seemed to, grinning as your hands pried away his trousers from his waist, yanking at his zipper and seeking out his hidden warmth.

John was already as hard as a stone, and his smooth, velvety cock filled your hands and reminded you of just how much of him there was. You pumped at his length, slicking the precome over his head, teasing him just enough to make him wild.

His eyes held a bright fire within them, and you could tell how much he wanted to take control, so you forced his hand. He was always so careful with you, but that's not what you needed. You needed him to bind himself to you, like a bone once broken that was now healed.

Your knees hit the floor and you rubbed your cheek over his length like a cat. You did it again, enjoying the look on his face and the brief uncertainty about what he should do with his hands. He stumbled back, just a half-step, but enough to tell you that you were doing the trick.

His hands were in your hair, and he groaned for you, watching you in furious disbelief as you took him into your mouth. You could only fit his head, but you suckled from it hungrily, pulling it into the wet warmth of your mouth and rolling it around with your tongue.

"Fuckin' hell. Fuck..."

John got rough with you, pulling you up by your scalp, gripping you at the base of your skull, slowing his pleasure down and staring at you like you were a ghost, something unreal.

Then, he kissed you again, letting you both fall to the bed, pressing you down with his weight so that you couldn't move. You couldn't even shift your hips; you were fully at his mercy, ready and very much willing to be used like his toy.

He slid into you without resistance or help. Your body welcomed him in, not asking you for your opinion.

"Mmff... fuck!"

John growled out mid-kiss, trying to reel himself back in. You gasped and moaned, feeling the same effects as your husband, reveling in the magic he had crafted between you.

All of his rage melted from his visage like butter in a pan, soft and frothing and bubbling in a place that was once rigid and cold. You tried to grind your hips for him, milking his pleasure one tiny motion at a time, stoking that fire to dangerous heights.

As if he was being forced to comply, he began to thrust into you over and over. You felt his cock slide all the way out and all the way back in like a shining piston.

It made your eyes water. Your pleasure was so enhanced by his ferocity, and his intensity burned its way through you with every selfish push and lustful pull.

Greedily, he picked up his pace, slamming himself into you and hugging you to him, desperate to be closer and not having a way to make that true. He began to talk to you, telling you his secrets,

"Needed you so bad."

More and more of his cock seemed to find a way to fit itself inside of you, and you couldn't remember ever feeling so full.

"This fuckin' pussy. My pussy. Mine."

His possessiveness made you want to scream, and you could tell he was pleased with your reaction to his declaration of ownership. His smug, satisfied look turned you on even more.

"So wet for me, pretty thing. Wet. Wet. Wet."

The sounds he was making inside of you were straight up pornographic, and you loved hearing the result of his work. He was a master at drawing out your pleasure, and you thought you might blackout if he didn't let you come soon.

"John, please -" you said, but you were interrupted.

He plastered a huge hand over your mouth and chuckled darkly,

"Smells sweet," he licked your neck, sending chills across your arms and chest, "Like you've been wantin' me for a while. That true?"

You nodded, unable to respond. Then, you basked in the pleased look on his face. It was delicious to see him so enamored with you, and you wanted to roll around in it like a dog.

"Gonna come on me, missus? Wash away my fuckin' day, yeah?"

You nodded again, weaker this time. You felt your body decide to divert its attention to your core and the pressure building in your womb. It was like the end of a lit sparkler, glowing and spitting, sparkling and hissing and then... it was the explosion.

Your orgasm spread like wildfire across your skin, blazing in your hips and rushing through your veins, burning you inside and out.

"Tha's it," he was shouting over your screaming, "Lemme hear you. C'mon! Fuck!"

John pressed his cock inside of you as deeply as it would fit and felt the climax as it rent its way through you. He allowed himself to follow, pouring his joy out into you like warm, melted sugar, sticky and cloying.

Shorter, shallower thrusts painted his come inside of you, and your senses were overwhelmed by it. Everything was golden and silver and glittering with his love. Everything was bright. Everything was John. There was no you. No him. You were bathed together in this cosmic light, forever entwined by it.

More than anything, he looked relieved. It was exactly what he had needed. He needed to let himself out, to let his wildness run free, and you celebrated being the vessel for such reckless abandon.

He was petting your breasts, kissing them and studying them like there was a test. Occasionally, he would return to your mouth, slanting his own over it and languidly using it to kiss you. He would lick and taste and kiss and suck and you would allow it. You would be his toy for as long as he needed, and in turn, he was yours to command. Your captain.

"I like you like this," he confessed, keeping you pinned beneath him, "All mine. Trapped, hm?"

"All yours, John. As long as you need me."

"I'll always need you."

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x you #call of duty #captain price x reader #captain johnathan price #cod price #price mw2 #price x reader #captain john price smut #x female reader

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pink-apollo · 2 years

Text

Simon ghost Riley accidentally yelling at S/O 🥀Headcanons🥀

So I’ve been gone for a bit…I’ll be honest I’m so surprised of all the love this account is getting g and just so thankful you guys enjoy the content🥺 It means so damn much. Also little life update, going to school and have two jobs, which is why I haven’t been writing. But I’m just really happy my motivation is coming back ^^

🥀Simon is never one to raise his voice unless they absolutely deserve it. Towards his s/o though? Absolutely not. No matter how much you piss him off with your corny jokes, your shenanigans, or just flat out getting into trouble, will he ever raise his voice at you. The amount of guilt this man would feel would be unbearable. Wouldn’t dare look you in the eye and would isolate himself so he wouldn’t have to look at you.

🥀The moment the room went silent he knew he fucked up. His heart was pounding in his chest as he closed his eyes, scrunching them up before slowly opening them back up to look at your teary face. He didn’t speak another word and went into his office, quietly shutting the door and locking it. He didn’t want to speak another word incase it would set you off. He sat in his chair and stared at the wall while he heard you sniffle on the other side. He wanted to so badly jump up and apologize and say he didn’t mean it, but he knew he needed to calm down before did or say anything

🥀A moment later he heard you shuffle around and sit behind the door. He couldn’t understand how you could still be so forgiving after what he did. Of course you knew what he did for work and how hard it could be, but always will the love still be there for when he comes home

🥀He turned his head to peak at the door and saw the blanket that you both shared poking underneath the doorframe. Simon finally decided to walk over and sit on the other side of the door, gently tugging on the blanket to get your attention

🥀”I’m sorry love….I didn’t mean-“

🥀” I forgive you.”

🥀Simon paused, unsure of what to say next. He didn’t expect you to accept his apology so quickly which left him dumbfounded for the first time in a long time. How could you though?

🥀”Can I come in?”

🥀Without hesitation Simon got up and unlocked the door, opening it to see you wrapped up tightly in the blanket. He couldn’t help but to crack a smile because of how adorable you looked

🥀 Stepping closer to Simon you wrapped yourself around him, gently peppering his face in kisses. Whispering it’s okay and that these things happen when we don’t mean it

🥀After this incident, your relationship has grown stronger. Simon isn’t perfect and at times opening up can be very hard for him, but with a little bit of love and patience he can learn to deal with these things better. Which includes telling you what he’s struggling with and what can be done to make it better so it doesn’t happen again. Even after this he does still feels incredibly guilty, of course you might have forgotten it after a while but he can’t seem to let it go.

#Simon Riley #simon riley headcanons #modern warfare #Simon ghost Riley #ghost x reader #headcanons #x reader

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dreamescapeswriting · 6 months

Text

Smutober Day 14 ~ Prompt ~ Hwang Hyunjin [M]

WORD COUNT: 0.8k

PAIRING: Hyunjin x GN!Reader

GENRE: established relationships, minors DNI,, prompt: “Don’t Start What you cant finish” blow job, under the desk, workplace shenanigans, almost getting caught

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - Smutober 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

Hyunjin stared at you as you sat down in front of him, his eyes widened a little as he waited for you to say something. Anything but you didn't. Instead, you ran your hands up his thighs and grazed your hands over his already-hardened cock in his work trousers,

"Don't start something you can't finish." He warned you in a deep voice that drove you wild. You'd been working for him for months now and it was about time you cut the sexual tension between you as well as the literal tension that he was feeling.

"I'm helping you relax, can you not act like a cock about it?" You questioned as you unbuckled his belt, your heart rapidly hitting against your ribcage as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

Hyunjin stared at you, he'd been wanting to do this for a long time but he never wanted to be the one to initiate anything between you, he always thought the attraction you had for him was in his head. But it was obvious now it wasn't.

"You need to look busy, the blinds to your office are open.2 You reminded him as you worked him free from his pants, your mouth drying at the sight of him. He was already rock hard and the tip of his cock was dripping with precum.

"You're fucking huge." You whined as you slowly took him down your throat, he was so big you had to pause every couple of seconds to let yourself get used to it. Hyunjin bit down onto his knuckles as he looked at his screen trying to seem as though he was doing something.

"S-Shitting hell, your mouth feels so good," He whined out as he glanced down at you, watching as you took him to the hilt staying there for a second before gagging and pulling off him for a minute,

"God, you sound so pretty choking on my cock like that," The praise sent you reeling as you took him back into your mouth, slowly moving your head around him as you got comfortable with the size of his dick. Hyunjin grunted as he clutched onto the arms of his chair, his heart racing as he glanced down at you no longer caring if someone could see.

It was magic watching you suck and lick him, his muscles tightening every time your mouth. You hummed around him softly, flattening your tongue and running it on the underside of his shaft as you pulled away from him. Pumping him in your hand while you gently sucked the head of his cock,

"Fuck, Yn, just like that." He groaned as you felt yourself getting more and more turned on at the thought of getting him off. There was something about having the power in this situation that sent you over the edge.

Drool leaked from the corners of your mouth, dripping down on your chin but you didn't care, nothing was going to stop you. Every groan and moan falling from your boss's lips only encouraged you to keep going, to please him and give him all the pleasure that you could

"Good fucking girl." He grunted as he held onto your cheek, running his thumb along your skin as you took him to the back of your throat and gagged around the base of his cock,

"You take every inch, you like sucking this dick don't you?" You nodded frantically around him,

"You want my cum?" You once again nodded frantically at him as he grunted as you took his balls into your hand gracefully dondling them as you stared at him through your lashes.

"S-Shit," He hisses noticing someone walking his way to his office.

"Someone coming," He choked out but you knew everyone knocked before they came into the room so you had time. You picked up your efforts and began to move your head faster, using one hand to play with his balls while the other pumped the rest of his shaft.

"Oh fuck me," He let out a low grunt as a string of curse words began to fall from his lips. The sudden rush of adrenaline was sending him closer to his climax as someone tapped on the office door. Hyunjin let out a tiny whimper as he released himself deep inside of your mouth, your small laughter making him glare at you as he called for whoever it was to come into the room.

"I have the reports for Yn but they're not at their desk. Shall I leave them with you?" You stared at Hyunjin as he nodded at them,

"Are you okay sir? You look a little flushed."

"I'm fine, Just leave the reports and I'll give them to Yn when they're back." Once the door shut you smirked, watching as your boss went to close his blinds so that you were able to come out from under the desk,

"You're in trouble, Just wait until the next meeting and it's my chance to play." He warned you before kissing you deeply and passionately, lifting you up onto the desk and making out with you.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog@sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @laylasbunbunny @tinyoonsblog @whitefoxgirl @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @minhosify @choisoorin @straykids5star @heyjiminnie@beccaskz @scarletemeterio @btsiguess-kpop @halesandy

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin smut

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guacamoleroll · 2 months

Text

— 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘 .ᐟ · 𝔬𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔲 𝔡𝔞𝔷𝔞𝔦 ༉‧₊˚

𝖘𝖚𝖇𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖞𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖘 ⇢ "I have an idea maybe a old bookstore date with Dazai would be so cool :D"

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙. f!reader. tooth-rotting fluff. established relationships. forehead kisses, teasing, quiant bookstores cuddling, romance. dazai is a menace to society, but secretly soft. not proofread. 1.4k+ words.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. this was the request i accidentally misread in this post. so sorry! it's been months since this was placed in my inbox, but i haven't been able to get around to requests in a while. thank you for patiently waiting, and i hope you enjoy! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘. an earthy aroma permeated through the air, a collection of different smells gathered from every page and cover as the warmth of the room clashed with a battering from a faltering AC unit that kicked on and off.

OR you drag your boyfriend into a bookstore, and shenanigans ensue.

The devilish brunette dared to chuckle under his breath, head held high as he paraded you down the street, hand-in-hand. For someone who had been the brunt of a heavy lecture by the agency's resident stickler, he was in a delightful mood. Not that Kunikida's scolding had ever been able to properly put Dazai in his place.

You had entered the office after an extended morning mission, only to be dragged out again; the only clue to your sudden kidnapping was the twitch of Kunikida's brow as you were flung out the door, clueless to the occurrences that had occurred moments prior. When questioning Dazai about it, he simply met your inquiries with a cat-like grin.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You deadpanned at his obvious avoidance of the question, though quickly relented to his schemes. If there was one thing anyone knew about Osamu Dazai, it was that he always got his way, one way or another. And it was rare to have any time off, so you decided not to think about whatever strings he pulled and enjoy your time together.

You scrolled through the map on your phone, lips pursed. "Has anything new opened recently?"

"You know, we could just—"

"And no," you cut him off, striking him with your eyes. "We are not jumping off another bridge. You remember what happened the last time you decided to test gravity?"

He pouted, bottom lip jutting out. "It's not my fault. The bridge was higher than it looked."

You rolled your eyes. Dazai was such a man-child sometimes.

He perked up, his eyes sparkling. "What about that ramen shop down the road?"

"No," you grimaced, nose shriveling. "They have flies."

"The bar on the corner?"

You shook your head. "Too many rowdy guys."

He whined, flailing his arms into the air. "I give up! Just tell me—"

Only to realize that you were no longer walking beside him. He paused, staring at the empty space before his eyes dotted back. You had stopped before a window, eyes wandering across the inside of what he had surmised to be an old bookstore. He froze as you glanced up at him—he knew that look.

"No, no, no!"

RING!

He cried out for anyone to help as he was dragged inside, acting more like a toddler than a loving boyfriend as he clawed at the doorframe, only to be pulled in inevitably. The older woman at the register stared incredulously at your odd behavior, though you had long become accustomed to the stares you received in public with Dazai.

"I don't wanna go!"

"Calm down!" You pushed him into a chair in the corner with every ounce of strength. "Stay right here. I'll only be a minute."

He groaned, flopping back into the chair with a brilliance only someone in theater could muster, legs swinging over the arms of the chair as he continued to gripe to himself. You hid your laughter behind your palm, lest you incur his infantile wrath, walking into the next aisle.

He didn't want to admit that this store was quite lovely. An earthy aroma permeated through the air, a collection of different smells gathered from every page and cover as the warmth of the room clashed with a battering from a faltering AC unit that kicked on and off. And it was tranquil, not eerily so, but a stark contrast from the loud traffic outside, especially since no one else was around. It was a quaint little store that was an obvious magnet for little bookworms like yourself.

As the seconds flew by, Dazai tapped his foot to the beat of an ancient cuckoo clock that stared at him from the wall. Minutes passed, his head lolling back against the head of the chair, breath pacing to a slow point.

CUCKOO!

He had no time to brace himself, startling as he tumbled out of the chair with a thud. His groans were the accompanying chorus to the clock, which he stared at in scorn. Damn. It had already been forty minutes. What were you doing? Even through the tinted windows of the store, it was clear that the sun had begun its descent in between surrounding buildings.

He pulled himself from the uncomfortable floor and started his search, but it didn't take any time at all to find you.

"There she is."

He was about to call out, but his complaint became lodged in his throat. Instead, he hid in the next aisle, peeking between the cracks of another bookshelf. It seemed that you hadn't noticed time had passed at all, eyes glued onto the page of the book cradled in your hands. In fact, several other books were stacked next to you on the floor, awaiting your watchful eyes. Your expression could only be described as a kiss upon a cloud, fingers nestling the pages of the book with such care, eyes scanning every word as you intended to soak the story in.

A part of him felt jealous. How could an inanimate object take up so much of your time? Time that was supposed to be focused on him! But there was another part of him; he couldn't quite place it.

You finally spotted him as he rounded the corner, sparing a glance at one of the clocks as the realization struck you, turning back with a crooked smile.

"Sorry. I lost track of time."

"Here." His fingers braced against your shoulders, carefully prying your aching back from the unforgiving bookshelves as he settled in behind you, much to your surprise. "That's better."

"D-Dazai, what're you—?"

"So, what's this one about?" His arms slung around your waist, practically a second nature for him as he enfolded you in a koala-like embrace, your back snug against his chest.

You only blinked, and a knowing smirk grew on his lips. "Use your words, love."

You sputtered, slapping his arm with the book before managing to settle yourself, stifling the heat that threatened to take over your whole body.

"It's a romance novel."

He raised a brow. "Romance?" He chuckled, and you did not want to address the way the low timber of his voice made your limbs turn to mush. "While I am an expert in the field, I would love to hear what seems to strike your particular fancy."

But you met him with hesitation. "Are you sure?"

"What?" he cooed, his nose nuzzling into your neck, the warmth of his breath prickling your skin as he laid down a path of kisses along your throat. "Is it so hard to believe I want to hear your beautiful voice?"

You resisted the urge to squirm away but sighed, looking down at the page. It would be nice to read to someone, would it be?

He barely paid attention to your narration of the book itself, occupying his thoughts as he toyed with strands of your baby hairs between his fingers, his ears picking up the shift of your tone, mellifluous in nature. He hadn't processed precisely what you were saying, but he couldn't help but be enraptured in the rise and fall of your voice, filled with emotion as the story rose to a peak. Neither of you had paid attention to the kisses that he littered across the crown of your head, the motion only settling the butterflies in your stomach to sleep.

As the clock ticked forward, your words began to haze, slurring together as you crawled toward the final page.

CUCKOO!

This time, no one was startled by the intrusive sound. The sun had set into the horizon, leaving you within the glow of faded lamps and flickering lights; the book slumped over in your lap as your breath drew deeper, eyes fluttering closed. Dazai smiled, no mockery or tease, careful not to wake you as he lifted you bridal-style. He was surprised you didn't stir, not once, even while he half-hazardly managed to pay for the book with his spare cash. The woman at the counter was even nice enough to take a few dollars off, too distracted with cooing at your sleeping form.

His little charmer, even while asleep. Awfully cute.

RING!

"Osamu," you mumbled, voice lethargic as the bell and brisk air stirred you from your slumber. The incessant tease shushed you, kissing your forehead with a smile.

"Shh. Rest, love."

And he walked on into the night. Another satisfying date under your belt, if slightly unconventional. But he wouldn't have spent his day any other way. It was worth the lecture.

taglist: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#starring: osamu .ೃ࿐#f!reader #from: anon .ᐟ #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #dazai bsd

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annadoingshitpoorly · 9 months

Note

oh to be Abby’s sweet little trophy wife that flaunts around in lingerie while she working from home🙇‍♀️😫 like imagine walking by her office and abby goes “doing this to be a brat or what?” Then reader is like “I wear things like this all the time” and shrugs innocently AHHHHHH

YES ANON!!! Abby is a breadwinner. Provider. Mother. 😤

I feel like she loves being able to treat her wife to little presents and wants to do nothing but look after her. Any of the lingerie that you own, has either been bought by or bought for Abby. But let’s be real, it's for both of you cause when she see your ass hanging out from underneath that little blue babydoll she got for you last month - it’s over.

Even though Abby gets a Friday to work from home Abby would spend hours upon hours trapped in her office, on the phone to patients or other staff from her practice trying to approve surgeries or trying to get prescriptions processed if she could manage. Everyday at 1, you’d bring her lunch to her office and kiss her on her wrinkled little forehead, stress and pressure causing deep lines on her beautiful face. On this particular Friday, it would be business as usual. Blonde hair fuzzy from running her hands through it, laptop open and phone held against her ear. Keeping an ear to the closed door and hearing her set down the phone with an exhausted sigh, you put your plan into action. Pushing the door open plate in one hand, ice tea in the other, you kiss her on the crown of her head as she stays sat in the swivel chair. The pastel pink lace and chiffon adorning your body, sways a little as you move around her and set up the plate of beef and noodles in front of her. As you do so her blue eyes take in the view of you slightly bent over, smile on your face. Light makeup and cherried lips, you’re like a walking wet dream. As you move back out around the desk and towards the door, Abby grabs you by the hand and pulls you down into her lap, “nuh-uh, baby. Walking around like a fucking meal, and you expect me to eat that instead of you?”

Also I feel like Abby is really into kitchen sex and idk why. The cold marble countertops that give you goosebumps when she lifts you on to them, her hands sneaking round to cup your cunt as you’re standing at the stove cooking dinner. All the shenanigans that come with fucking in a kitchen.

Abby has a thing for those kinds of lingerie sets that aren’t just straps and frills, she likes the ones that sort of cover you up and make you look all pretty and dainty, her very own princess. Babydolls and teddy sets are her go-to’s. She’s especially fond of pastels and how soft they make you look. And as much as she teases you for wearing them for her, it's mildly disappointing for her when she comes back home and sees you in what she has dubbed ‘people clothes’. Like you’re hers, why do you have to go and do things, and why do you need to be seen by other people, why do you have to do that job? Because you live in a capitalist hellscape and junior surgeons aren’t paid enough.

She still has her old letterman jacket from senior year of high school, it’s big and oversized with ‘Anderson’ stitched across the back, and boy does she love seeing you in frilly blue lace and cotton. All that’s really covering you from her wandering eyes is something with her name on it. You’re hers. Her pretty little wife.

#Anna’s drabbles #tlou #abby anderson #tlou x reader #abby anderson x reader #Abby is a junior doctor and wastes her wages on getting her wife lingerie #ignore me and my love for doctor au Abby #modern au Abby Anderson

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irisintheafterglow · 4 months

Note

hi iris i hope u have been well!!

wanted to request a little fluff/mutual pining moment between Satoru and reader who's also an instructor but they only ever get to see eachother during exchange events/higher up meetings/a mission every now and then (it's not for a lack of wanting to pursue eachother but neither of them have put in the effort bc they're both have commitment issues and deem themselves unworthy of trying) i think it would be soooo cute and i'm just dying to see Satoru and reader's students tease them about their VERY obvious chemistry... and hopefully something finally coming out of it in the end :-)

hehe thank u so much and as always you're the best!!

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this!

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: coworkers to lovers, idiots in love, reader and gojo have no idea what they're doing, swearing, mentions of drinking, fluffy fluffy fluff

note: hi anon! thank you so much for the ask, hope you like it!! i definitely got a little carried away writing it just because it's such a cute premise lol

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated !!

A piece of paper slides inconspicuously into your peripheral vision and it takes all of your willpower not to smirk. With equal nonchalance, you carefully peek under the ripped corner of the meeting agenda and can’t help smiling at the message scrawled on it.

We’re drinking after this (not optional).

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and see him leaning back in his office chair, arms crossed and looking like he’d rather be dipping his limbs in molten lava. Even with his blindfold, you can see the boredom in his expression and you bite your tongue to keep from laughing. His inability to appear professional was going to be the death of you both.

“Gojo, are you listening?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” he says with blatant dishonesty that makes you bite your bottom lip and carefully observe the dusty ceiling tiles. “I was just in…deep thought.” He tastes the last two words like philosophies to be pondered and it suddenly becomes much harder to continue to have a blank expression. Their first mistake was picking a verbal fight with him.

“Deep thought about what?” Their second mistake was letting him keep talking.

“Ah, you know, the usual things.” You can feel his attention flick to you for a moment and it gives him a wave of confidence to continue to be a little pest at a meeting neither of you wanted to be attending. It was his favorite pastime, after all, to get you to smile at his shenanigans despite the bullshit you were hearing. “The meaning of life, the wonders of love,” he begins before his volume drops so that only you could hear it, “Why this couldn’t have been a fucking email–”

“What was that?” You suppress a snort into your fist and take a sip of water, hoping the other meeting attendees couldn’t see that you were tearing up from trying not to laugh. The angry-faced higher up scowls at him, catching the biting tone but not his words. Satoru merely smiles innocently, like every utterance was of the purest and most amicable intentions.

“Nothing,” he sings and you cough into your sleeve to hide a laugh. The other higher ups with their ugly suits and balding heads look at you curiously, but all you can see is Satoru’s shit-eating grin from beside you. “I’m just worried for you, is all.” The higher-up at the front of the room scoffs, still believing the show.

“Worried? For me?”

“Mhmm,” he nods, his brows drawn in fake concern. “I just know you don’t have a lot of time left on this plane and, well, wonder why you’re choosing to spend it here,” he states with a vague gesture around the musty room. An embarrassing noise of amusement escapes from your throat and you try in vain to regain your composure, only to fall into a fit of uncontrollable coughing. Satisfied with his achievement, he abruptly stands from his chair and pulls yours away from the desk. “My work here is finished. We’re leaving.” His finger gently taps your shoulder twice and you obey, standing and heading for the door while he pushes in your chair behind you. The official at the front of the room has turned beet-red.

“The arrogance of you two–”

“We’re done here. If you say anything important, Ijichi will tell me. I doubt the possibility, though,” Satoru states with finality, opening the door for you and shooting the room of stunned officials one last smirk. Too lazy to walk through the winding halls or take the snail-paced elevator, a flick of your wrist opens a portal into an alley on the side of the building. Your colleague lets out a whistle of approval as your shoes cross from dirty carpet to asphalt, finally taking in fresh air after hours of sitting in the stale conference room. The moon shines in all of its winter glory and you shiver against the welcome chill, comforted by the chatter of the city’s nightlife. “Still up for that drink?”

“As long as you’re buying it,” you reply. “I’m gonna call the kids first and let them know I’m out.”

“Tell them I say hi,” he says without missing a beat, leaning against a nearby wall to wait for you to finish. Utahime picks up after two rings.

“Hello? Ah, you’re finally done. That’s great!” Your coworker’s voice temporarily becomes muffled while she answers questions of who she’s talking to, followed by a chorus of your name imploring you to come back. “Everyone, say hi!” Your beloved students greet you enthusiastically and you smile at their enthusiasm. “Will you be on your way soon?”

“In a little,” you say, slightly sheepish as your eyes flick over to the man behind you. “I’m gonna get a drink.”

“You’re going by yourself?”

“Not exactly,” you answer slowly and the realization hits Utahime as she breaks out into a lecture on how Satoru isn’t good enough for you. “Easy, easy. It’s just a drink, nothing else.” Your whispered attempts to placate your friend’s indignance prove futile and you settle for letting her get all of her complaints out.

“He’s a no-good playboy with a rock for a brain and a chatterbox of a mouth, you idiot,” she concludes after her lengthy rant. “I don’t want you getting hurt because he’s too scared to make any commitments.”

“I’m not making any commitments either, Utahime,” you remind her and you can imagine her rolling her eyes from the other side of the line. “It’s just a drink,” you reiterate, but you still hear her grunt of disapproval. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” she responds skeptically. “Don’t do anything dumb.”

“Love you too, Utahime,” you laugh, hanging up the phone and sticking it back in your pocket. “Alright, let’s go,” you call to Satoru, who eagerly pushes off the wall and drags you out of the alley. “We haven’t eaten, so we’re getting dinner too.”

“Whatever you want,” he grins. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t harbor some sort of romantic affections toward Satoru, but you were also resigned to the fact that you’d never act on it. He was the most powerful human being on the planet; how could you be worthy of loving such a man? Still, in times like this, where it was just the two of you walking hand-in-hand to who knows where, your mind tended to drift into thoughts of what could be if you weren’t in this line of work. It would be nice to love him, that’s all. Yeah, it’d be really nice to love him.

You couldn’t explain any of this to your students the next morning, though, when they interrogated you on who you were with the entire night. When you let his name slip, the shock in the room was palpable.

“See, I knew you guys had a thing for each other!” Miwa points her sword at you accusingly, far more fired up than you’d ever seen her before. “I thought I was the only one who noticed how he looked at you!”

“There is nothing of the sort, so I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you counter, pushing the sheathed blade to the side. Your other students fight back with full force.

“It’s so obvious that he likes you,” Mai says, like it’s an insult. “Teasing you all the time? Making excuses to crash your meetings?”

“Bringing you lunch if he’s within a fifty mile radius of our campus,” Nishimiya adds and her classmates nod in agreement. “Do you know how many times I’ve caught him trying to surprise you by air?”

“That could be just part of a working relationship,” you argue, but they’re relentless. “How would you know anything about his intentions? Maybe he’s just being nice!”

“I believe his intentions with you are, indeed, romantic,” Kamo reiterates and you groan, hiding your burning face in your hands. “I can’t say I don’t see the vision. You’re a powerful duo.”

“Your marriage would make the brass shit themselves,” Mai muses with a cynical glint in her eye. “Can you imagine having a baby that can send Hollow Purple through a portal?”

“Oh, their children would be so beautiful,” Miwa squeals and it’s like waterfalls of sweat come rushing from your forehead.

“Alright, alright. Let’s not talk about marriage or babies, please,” you cut in, quick to nip that conversation in the bud. You can’t tell if it’s the weather making your palms clammy or the unending tirade of comments about your dating life. “We can change the topic of conversation now,” you say in an attempt to get the heat off of you for a little bit. “Todo, how’s that idol you like so much doing?” It’s a good idea, initially, but the thought of you and Satoru together seemed to be brainwashed over your students.

“She’s wonderful, just as the two of you in love is a wonderful sight.” Todo can’t seem to help himself as he announces his enthusiasm for your romantic endeavors, teleporting across the room and swapping positions with his classmates from claps of pure excitement. Mechamaru provides a single thumbs-up when you look to him for support, and you pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers.

“I think it’s cute how you act like you hate him and then can’t seem to stay away during events like this. Love is so complex,” Miwa sighs, resting her chin on her hand and staring off dreamily. You scoff, hoping they can’t tell how fast your heart rate has picked up. “I wish I were in love.”

“It’s not love. If anything, it’s just admiration. Yeah, it’s just admiration,” you conclude and you’re met with skeptical stares.

“Yeah, admiration of his hot bod,” Miwa mutters and you open a portal without thinking, allowing some fat drops of rain from who knows where to fall on her head. It was a common form of discipline, summoning portals to unruly weather conditions, and your students sit up a little straighter in understanding. “Fine, okay, okay. I’m done.”

“You sure? If you’re not done, I’m gonna send you to the Amazon again.”

“Yes, fine. I’m done, I promise.”

“Done with what?” You stiffen, mentally kicking yourself for not registering his presence sooner. Had he not taken up your entire attention, you would have sent Miwa to South America for the gasp of excitement she let out when Satoru appeared. It seemed that none of you knew he was listening until he leaned against the doorframe, all six feet of height taking up the entire space. He was wearing his signature shit-eating grin that made you want to choke him with his own blindfold. “You gossiping in here?”

“Nope, just going over strategy,” you lie straight to his face and he hums, not believing you for a second. “Shouldn’t you be doing that, too? With your own students?” You stand and attempt to push him out of the room, only to find him completely immovable. His hand covers yours, lacing your fingers together in a way that makes you a little dizzy.

“All in good time,” he says carefreely, as if the action with your hands was second-nature. “For now, can I steal you away for a moment? It won’t take long.” You can practically hear the waggling eyebrows from your students and nod, unable to form a biting response because of the crashing trains of thought in your mind. His hand remains holding yours as he all but pulls you outside, finally dropping it when the excited chatter of your students has subsided. “You okay? You seem a little frazzled,” he asks once you’re far enough from any eavesdropping attempts.

“Yeah, my kids are just being a little…funny, today,” you exhale, trying to hide your unease with a nervous giggle. “You know them; they love to make up their own little stories.” He raises his eyebrows in amusement, matching your pace as you walk down a random outdoor corridor of the Tokyo campus.

“Mine have actually been doing the same thing,” he confesses after a brief moment of awkward silence. “Making speculations, drawing connections. Seems to be a good exercise in pattern-recognition.” You know he means it as a joke, but all you can think about is Miwa’s comment on admiring Satoru’s ‘hot bod.’ Had his students picked up on your behavior, too?

“What are some of these connections they’re drawing?”

“Connections about my behavior around…hmm,” his voice trails off and the corner of his mouth turns down into a frown, like he was unhappy with his students’ observations. “They’ve noticed things about the way I, well,” he stammers and for the first time, you witness Gojo Satoru get tongue-tied. “Somethings that they’ve seen and heard and–”

“Satoru.” You halt both of your strides and cross your arms defensively over your chest, slightly uncomfortable from Satoru’s inability to express himself when he would otherwise be talking your ear off. “What is this about?”

“My students know I like you,” he states bluntly and your heartbeat momentarily stops pounding in your ears. His students know that he what? “And they also theorize,” he stops to clear his throat, adjusting his collar and avoiding your eyes, “that you may reciprocate the same feelings.” Any words that you can form get caught in your throat, an odd mixture of happiness, shock, and pure dread stirring around in your brain. All you could do is blink at him, dumbly, while he shifts between the balls of his feet. “Please, say something.”

“You like me,” you repeat, tasting the words like a fancy wine you’ve never tried before breaking out into the widest smile you’ve ever felt. “Holy shit, you like me?”

“You’re smiling,” he states, still trying to process what was happening. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Holy shit, you like me!” Your voice raises on its own and you take a step back in surprise, covering your face with your hands to try and contain your emotions. “What the fuck, Satoru?”

“Yeah, that’s,” he mumbles as he watches you celebrate, “that’s how I’m feeling too.”

“Wait, so what do we do now?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t expect to get this far,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck and combing his fingers through his hair. “I was waiting for you to slap me and tell me to go to hell.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I didn’t think you liked me back,” he sputters and the joy in both you and Satoru’s chests finally breaks loose in a fit of unending laughter. “Holy shit, I was so worried for nothing.”

“They’re gonna be so excited when we get back, they won’t be able to focus on the Exchange Event.”

“I don’t think I can focus on the Exchange Event.”

“Then we can postpone it!” You both flinch as a voice that was definitely not one of yours calls from behind a nearby wall, followed by a terrified oh, shit! as Satoru goes barreling around the corner and drags out the culprits by the collars of their shirts. Yuuji, the pink-haired student from Tokyo, and Miwa both try to explain themselves as they dangle weightlessly from Satoru’s hands. “Gojo, sir, we swear we weren’t trying to–”

“Hold on,” you pause Yuuji’s explanation, sensing some extra energy signatures that weren’t succeeding at hiding themselves. “Come out now, or I’m opening the portal to the Arctic,” you command in the open air and watch the leaves rustle as the rest of the Tokyo and Kyoto students fall from a nearby tree. “It’s rude to eavesdrop,” you chuckle as Nishimiya picks a few branches from Mai’s hair. “Go clean yourselves up and then we can begin the games.”

“You free this weekend after the games to go someplace?” Satoru whispers in your ear once all of the students are gone. “I need a break from the prying eyes of teenagers.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #ask iris!

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btsqualityy · 1 year

Text

Mins’ Mirror Shenanigans

Warnings: mirror sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise, squirting, spanking, oral sex, crying from pleasure, and creampie

You were sitting in your home office, working on some sketches for your next project when you heard the sudden sound of what you assumed to be a drill. However, it stopped almost as soon as you heard it and since you were in the zone with your work, you didn’t want to get up to investigate and decided to leave it alone.

It wasn’t until another you heard that damn drill another five times that you finally threw your pencil down.

“This damn man,” you muttered as you got out of your chair, pacing out of your office and down the hallway to your bedroom. The door was open so you walked right in and your jaw dropped when you saw your husband on top of a ladder, drilling holes into the ceiling.

“Yoongs,” You called out, rolling your eyes when he just continued to drill because he couldn’t hear you. “Yoongi!”

“Huh?” Yoongi answered as he took his finger off of the trigger on the drill. “What’s up, Min?”

“What the hell are you doing?” You wondered. “I was trying to work, you know.”

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized. “I’m just trying to get these mirrors hung up.” When he said that, you looked over to your bed that had been pushed against the wall in order to make room for the ladder and that’s when you noticed the mirrors placed on top of it.

“Uh, what are those for?”

“Min, you know what they’re for,” he smirked lazily. “We talked about putting mirrors on the ceiling, remember?”

“Yeah but you were also tongue deep in my pussy when that conversation occurred,” you shrugged. “Didn’t think you were serious.”

“You know me better than that. You don’t want me to put them up?”

“No, you can,” you told him. “I just...why didn’t you hire someone to do this?”

“I’m a member of the biggest group in the world, Min,” Yoongi deadpanned. “I was not about to call someone over here to hang mirrors on my ceiling so that I can enjoy the view when me and my wife fuck. Get real. Plus, if I do it myself, I’ll know that it’s done right.”

“Excuse me then,” you chuckled. “Well, call me when it’s done so we can test it out, ok?”

“Oh, I’ll call you alright,” Yoongi nodded, watching as you turned around and headed back towards your office, your ass on display in the leggings that you had on. “Damn, that woman is fine as hell.”

................................................................

“Oh fuck, Yoongi,” you moaned.

“That’s it baby, ride that dick,” Yoongi commanded. As soon as Yoongi had finished hanging the mirrors and made sure that they were secure, he had followed your instructions and called you back into the bedroom. It didn’t take the two of you long to fall into bed together, where you were now riding his cock.

“So deep, holy shit,” you purred, your hands stationed on his lower abdomen for leverage as you moved up and down. “You feel so fucking good inside of me.”

“Yeah, you love this dick baby?” He questioned, lifting one of his hands and smacking one of your ass cheeks hard when you took too long to respond. “Answer me.”

“Love it so fucking much,” you gasped and a shiver ran through your body when Yoongi used his hands to slide over your shoulders and down to your breasts. He used the tips of his fingers to tease your nipples, lightly squeezing and pinching them until they were fully hard. You took a chance and looked up at the ceiling then, a soft gasp escaping you when you saw how fucked out you looked already. Sweat caused your skin to glow and your hair was a mess but the best thing was how fucking good you looked on top of your husband.

“Someone remembered,” Yoongi smirked. “You see yourself, Min? That’s the view I get any time you’re on top of me. So fucking pretty.”

“Fuh, feels like I’m going c-crazy,” you stammered, tears brimming to your eyes. “Feels t-too good. I can’t, I can’t-”

“Shh baby,” he murmured, reaching up and pressing his pointer and middle fingers into your mouth. You instantly began to suck on the digits, moaning loudly around them. “There we go. I know it feels like it’s too much but all you have to do is be my good girl and take it, yeah?”

“Mmmhmm,” you agreed, nodding your head as best you could.

“That’s my good little slut,” Yoongi smiled. “Take everything I give you.” Your eyes fluttered shut then and your head fell back a little bit, all of your focus going into keeping your hips moving and that’s when Yoongi looked up as well. The sight of you riding his cock and the look of utter bliss on your face did as much for Yoongi emotionally as it did sexually.

You trusted him, with everything in you and the reminder made Yoongi’s cock throb inside of you.

“Your sexy ass is gonna make me come baby,” Yoongi announced. “You feel it? Feel my dick throbbing inside your tight, wet pussy?”

“Mmm mmm hmm,” you mumbled, sucking harder on your husband’s fingers.

“You want it? Want my cum deep inside your pussy?” He questioned and your eyes closed again, a deep moan vibrating against Yoongi’s fingers as you began to squirt on his length. Yoongi watched appreciatively as your essence leaked out of you and he reached down with his free hand, lightly spanking your clit and smiling when your thighs trembled in response.

“Good girl,” he praised you as he finally took his fingers out of your mouth, sitting up and cupping your face in his hands. “You ok?”

“I’m ok,” you hiccupped, shaking your head as Yoongi wiped away the tears that had overflowed onto your cheeks. “You don’t have to stop. Why’d you stop?”

“I wanted to make sure you were crying for a good reason and not a bad one,” he chuckled before placing his hands on your hips and shallowly beginning to thrust into you again. “I should’ve known though. You take my dick so well, better than anyone else ever did.”

“Damn right,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him messily. Your tongue slid against his, saliva dripping down both of your chins as Yoongi fucked you deeply. His strong hands slid up from your waist to your back, seemingly massaging you as you felt another orgasm building in your gut.

“I feel that baby,” Yoongi murmured. “You gonna come again?”

“So fucking hard,” you confirmed. “Want you to come too, though.”

“You do? Well, ride my dick how I like it and I will,” he smiled, pressing one last kiss to your lips before laying back on the bed again. Knowing exactly what your husband meant, you maneuvered yourself so that your feet were flat on the bed and you placed your hands on your hand’s abdomen again as you began to literally bounce on his length.

“Just like that,” Yoongi groaned, throwing his head back and looking up into the mirror again. The visual of you riding him along with the sounds of your skin slapping against his, had Yoongi’s toes criss crossing as his orgasm winded to it’s end. “Oh, fuck baby.”

“Give it to me,” you cooed. “Come inside of my pussy.”

“Don’t stop, keep...holy shit,” Yoongi growled, his hands coming up to clutch your waist as he began to come. The feeling of warmth flooding your inner walls triggered your orgasm as well, more squirt trickling out of you and dripping down onto Yoongi’s pelvis.

“God damn it,” you giggled, lifting yourself off of Yoongi’s length and collapsing on the bed next to him. “Alright, the ceiling mirror was definitely a 10/10 idea.”

“It really fucking was,” Yoongi chuckled as he looked over at you. “It’s gonna be hard for me to keep my hands off of you when we’re in here now that I know what you look like from that vantage point.”

“Uh, I do need to sleep at some point, Mr. Min.”

“Eh, sleep is overrated,” he joked, making you roll your eyes.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you too,” he smiled softly, moaning lightly when you leaned over and kissed him firmly.

................................................................

A few hours later, you were woken up from your sleep by the feeling of something wet and slimy rubbing against you. When your eyes opened and you looked over at the nightstand, the clock read 12:28am.

“What the-, oh fuck,” you moaned. Reaching down, you lifted the duvet off of your still naked body to reveal Yoongi between your legs, lapping earnestly at your clit. “What are you doing?”

“I told you that I wasn’t gonna be able to get enough of you,” Yoongi smirked, taking his mouth off of you only long enough for him to slide his middle finger inside of you. “Now, be a good girl and look up while I make this pussy come for me again.” You did as instructed, looking at your reflection in the mirror as Yoongi began to lick you and finger you at the same time, causing another loud moan to escape you.

Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

#bts #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts x reader #bts smut #the mins

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bettyfrommars · 11 months

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I'm on Fire//biker!older!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//biker!Steve//90's au//Part 10

🚨18+Only, smut, oral (m receiving), talk of erection, size kink, swallowing, biker gang, biker!Eddie, biker!Steve, talk of drug use, threats, talk of violence, financial trouble, mention of jail, smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, trouble at home, co-parents!Stobin, suggested custody issues, angst, underlying fear of retaliation. Word count: 8.7k

This is mostly just a sweet lil chapter to heal some wounds, right before some old wounds start opening.

Series Masterlist

A/N: I tried to make this part completely void of angst, but alas, I did not succeed. I'm working on a summertime one shot idea for the boys to go to a bike rally with all of the shenanigans that could possibly ensue; it should be a wild one. Big love to my beta @michellecrusher for deciding that this chapter could use a touch of smut.

As always, I'm honored to be on this ride with you and look forward to any and all interactions. Comments, messages, reblogs; it all means so much to me and is what keeps this little world going ❤️‍🔥

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I'm on Fire Part 10: I got a bad desire

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Landing with your face on the puke-stained, beer dribbled carpet of the Velvet Hammer, dusted in a sprinkle of cigarette ash, was not how you wanted to start your evening. You hadn’t even realized you hit the ground until you heard Steve’s voice demanding everyone get the fuck out of his way as he parted bodies to get to you.

And then, Erika’s voice: “I don’t know what happened...she just...fell. I promise, I didn’t touch her!”

People were murmuring around you and Steve was saying your name as you started to come back to reality, taking a deep inhale, blinking back to life. He knelt and propped you up into a sitting position, and that was when the embarrassment of what had just happened began to wash over you, making you wish that a hole in the ground would swallow you up.

“Do you think you can stand?” Steve asked while his big hands found positions under your arms in preparation to lift you up. You turned your head to look at him; his wayfarer sunglasses had fallen from the top of his head to the tip of his nose, and they were about to slip off, but his concern was more with not letting you go.

“What happened?” He asked as he pulled you to your feet, taking a second to grab the sunglasses off his face and throw them on the bar. “Did someone push you?”

“Please. Get me out of here,” you begged as one of your arms went around his shoulders, and one of his hands secured itself at your waist.

He set you down on a chair in front of the employee lockers and told you he’d get someone to cover the door for him while he took you home, or he’d see if one of the girls could stop by.

With your hands between your knees and your shoulders slumped, you began to come to terms with everything as he picked up the phone in the office.

“Wait,” you stopped him. “I can’t afford to miss a day of work, Steve, I’ll be fine. Just...just give me a second to catch my breath.”

Steve understood what a hard spot that was to be in; he lived it almost every day of his life. He put the receiver back down on the cradle.

“What did that bitch say to you?” Steve asked, putting his foot up on the bench.

You shook your head. “That’s just it, she’s not a bitch,” you chewed your lip. “She just saved me from making a huge mistake. I owe her.”

Steve was on his way back out to the floor when you called to him. “Hey, does Eddie have any female friends who are redheads, that you know of? Really pretty, tattoo on her bicep? Someone he’d feel comfortable enough with to let stay at his place?”

Steve popped his knee out and put his hands on his hips, frowning. “No one that he’s...dated, I don’t think,” he rubbed his chin in thought. “But there’s Max, she’s more like a sister to us. I just tattooed her a few weeks ago. Her hair was like a bright, candy red. Why do you ask?”

You turned away from Steve and squeezed your eyes shut, a sob caught in your throat. The sudden rush of relief at so many groundbreaking realizations had your emotions on the verge of short-circuiting. Eddie still had quite a bit of explaining to do, but the tight bud of your heart was blooming like a rose in your chest once again, full of hope.

----------

Meanwhile, Eddie was officially going stir crazy. “I need to get out of this house,” he told Robin has he hitched through the kitchen, careful not to put too much weight on the hip was right below his wound. He was wearing his jeans unbuttoned, so they hung a bit low, bangs swept across his forehead, and one of Steve’s white wife beaters that was too small for him. The thin material exposed the tattoos on his chest and stomach, as well as the ones scattered from neck to hands. He’d spent the afternoon watching cartoons with Oliver, which was enjoyable, but relaxing and sitting still for long periods of time just wasn’t in his DNA.

Also, he wasn’t sure if it was an affect of the morphine, but he’d had another one of his nightmares early that morning, before dawn, and shouted himself awake, covered in sweat. It was the same dream that had tortured him off and on for over a decade; the one where he’s being attacked by a swarm of flesh-eating bat creatures, they’re all taking big bite out of his flesh, and he wakes up to the feeling of choking on his own blood.

“Over my dead body,” Robin challenged, moving from the stove with a wooden spoon covered in macaroni and cheese in her hand.

Eddie’s eyes traveled to the spoon and then back to her face. “That can be arranged.”

“Seriously, dude,” her shoulders sank. “Don’t make me hog tie you to the couch. I promised Astrid we’d keep an eye on you for another night.”

“I have a business to run, Rob,” he said as he hobbled over to grab his leather from the back of the one of the dining chairs. “If this were a hospital, they would’ve kicked me to the curb by now.”

Robin went back to the stove to stir the powdered cheese in with the noodles. She knew that no one could stop him if he wanted to go, and she really couldn’t blame him.

With her back to him she said, “if you end up getting some type of infection and your foot falls off, I won’t ever forgive you.”

Oliver came trotting out from the other room to say goodbye, and he raised his arms for Eddie to pick him up, which he did—and Robin glanced over just in time to see the grimace of pain flash across Eddie’s face as he settled the boy on the wrong hip at first before switching him to the other side. She shook her head, certain he would pop his stitches by the end of the day.

“Steve brought your bike up the hill,” she let him know, while she packed up some medications for him to take. “Your girlfriend is at work by now, I believe.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped to hers as he put Oliver down. “Why’d you call her that?”

“Isn’t she?” Robin challenged, raising her eyebrow. “I can tell you knew exactly who I was talking about.”

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that twitched across his lips.

----------

The Velvet Hammer was packed that night, and by the end of your shift, after very little food, no sleep, and one blackout, you were a bit wobbly on your feet. Steve had to work as security for a while longer, since there was a bachelor party in attendance that was getting a bit rowdy, but he demanded you let him walk you to your car while he had a smoke.

“So, I like Astrid,” you told him. He held out his cigarette to offer you a drag, but you declined with a wave of your hand. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Going on?” Steve put the cig to his lips with thumb and forefinger.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you made room for a group of people to pass on the sidewalk. “You know what I mean,” you insisted, knowing full well that he did. “You two seemed really close last night. I was just curious.”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ in love with her,” Steve announced with a shrug, as if it were common knowledge. “We just don’t have a conventional relationship, I guess. No one seems to understand it but us.”

You wondered, sincerely, how many women Steve had been in love with in his life. But, you could tell that there was, indeed, something special about the connection he had with Astrid. You wondered if Eddie looked at you the way Steve had looked at her last night.

Steve hung around to make sure you got in your car okay, and then you chuckled to yourself as he sauntered off, flirting with a group of women who were walking by, asking them to come by the bar and keep him company. You were about to maneuver your way out of the precarious parallel spot you were wedged in when your eyes locked on a piece of folded paper held to the windshield under one of the wipers.

At first, you thought it was ticket of some sort, like maybe you were in a no parking zone or something. But then, at closer examination, you realized it was made with blue-lined notebook paper.

It was a handwritten note.

The street was fairly busy that night with cars zooming around town, so you were cautious as you dashed out to pinch it free and pull it back into the safety of the car with you.

It was a...little paper origami duck? Or some kind of bird? You turned it around, inspecting the intricately folded parts, giggling curiously as you did so. You unfastened the delicate edges, careful not to rip it in haste. Finally, you were able to press a flat, albeit crumpled, half sheet of paper against your steering wheel, your heart shot into your throat, melting there like a fat stick of butter.

It was from Eddie:

I miss you. Come to my place so we can talk? It doesn’t matter how late.

-- E

P.S. Oliver wants to make this into a swan for you

Hopeful tears pooled at your lash line and you checked your watch; it was just after 11:30. Surely, they’d be keeping him at Steve’s for another night? But, if so, he would’ve said that and not, specifically “his place”. You tried to fold it back exactly the way it was, failed miserably, and ended up folding it in half without messing up any of the edges to place it safely in your middle console.

For a few seconds as you sat in your car with the radio on, listening to Nearly Lost You by The Screaming Trees, you wondered if you should play hard to get, if maybe rushing over to his place was not the right game to play. But really, truly, you didn’t give a shit about any of that.

You were blinking excessively and yawning, and you had this feeling like, if you rested your head back against the seat, you’d fall asleep right there in your car. But, you took a few deep breaths and patted your cheeks. You brought a can of Coke in your bag from the bar and cracked it open to guzzle some of it, thinking maybe you’d need to go home first and change? Or go straight to Eddie’s? Fall asleep in your car was still an option.

Fuck.

-----------

Earlier that day, around 5 o’clock, Eddie hissed as he dismounted his bike at the garage, clutching his side, trying to mask the spasm of pain, only to see Wayne watching him from the main garage. His uncle nodded in greeting, just wanting to make sure Eddie was okay, as he wiped his hands, and then turned around to finish what he was working on. So much of the communication they shared was silent, but understood.

He had the note in his pocket that Oliver had made into an origami animal, and he wanted to tidy up his place a bit before he did some work, just in case you did actually come over. If you didn’t, he wouldn’t blame you—it had been an especially long 24 hours. But, damn, he really needed to see you, to try and fix whatever had gone wrong, if he even could.

He still didn’t know what Charlene had done to upset you, but his mind reeled with the possibilities.

Eddie had ripped the bandage off his cheek on the way over, so there was just an angry gash there with a few stitches holding it together like a twist tie to a bunch of hammers, and he didn’t realize how much he resembled Frankenstein’s Monster until the new office assistance choked on her soda at the sight of him.

“Rough night?” She asked. Her name was Dana and she’d worked at garages before, but never for one that was affiliated with an MC.

“You could say that,” Eddie returned as he headed over to one of the metal filing cabinets to look for something.

Dana had a few “while you were out” slips of paper she had filled out with phone numbers and people who had wanted to speak with Eddie or Wayne, and she went over them with him while she chewed a red piece of gum.

She finished the last one and then, “oh, yeah, and someone called here looking for a…” she checked the piece of paper. “...Steve Harrington?”

Eddie nodded, taking something he needed out of the file before shutting the drawer. “He’s a buddy of mine. What’s the message?”

Dana scratched her head. “She didn’t say what it was about, just said that it was a personal matter,” she showed Eddie the pink piece of paper with a phone number and name on it. “Said her name was Christina? I don’t recognize the area code.”

“Could you look up Steve in the address book in that first drawer and relay the message for me? He’s in there under Dingus. I gotta run this out to the---”

Dana spelled out Dingus on the piece of paper, without questioning it, and then looked at the round clock on the wall, nervously. “Actually, I should’ve been gone a half hour ago. I need to pick up my daughter from--”

Eddie waved the papers in his hand. “Of course, I’m sorry I’ve been...distracted. Do me a favor and call him when you get in on Monday? I’m sure it can wait till then.”

The name Christina did not ring a bell at the time, but later on, he’d wish that it had.

--------

You decided to go home first to freshen up a bit, but also, you wanted to pick up the photos to show Eddie. Katie was asleep, but you made yourself some coffee and tiptoed around, wishing you had time to shower because you reeked of secondhand smoke, but then realized Eddie probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

You were nervous as you pulled into the gates of the compound; your heart was racing and your palms started to sweat. His black and chrome bike with the menacing, purple flock of bats on the tank was parked right up close to his door, and you angled your car right in next to it.

Once you turned your car off, you could hear the faint sound of music drifting down from the open window in his apartment. The song was Love You to Death by Type O Negative, and you glanced up just in time to see his shadow pull from the window, as if he’d been standing there, watching you drive up.

---------

Up in his apartment, Eddie cracked his knuckles, ignoring the fact that the skin on them was still raw and one of his fingers was probably sprained because it throbbed like a motherfucker. He wanted to make sure everything looked okay before he ran down to meet you at the front door. The TV was on mute, he’d been watching Unsolved Mysteries, but now an episode of the X-Files was starting. There were clean sheets on the bed—just in case---and he’d been on his hands and knees cleaning the bathroom for a good half hour. There was a vanilla candle burning on the nightstand, and he had lit some Nag Champa incense earlier to try and mask the fact that he’d just smoked a couple cigarettes to calm his nerves. He turned the music down a tad and wondered if Type O was too on-the-nose for such an evening, like maybe you’d think he was setting some tawdry scene, when in actuality, he listened to their music all the damn time. He had on the only pair of dark denim Levi’s he owned without holes in them, a black Faith No More shirt that had the neck and sleeves ripped off of it, and his black converse, which were a nice change from the heavy boots he always wore. He slipped his rings on and used his pinky to clean some sleep out of his eyes just before he headed down to greet you.

---------

You were just about to knock, knuckle poised in the air, when the door flew open.

“Hey,” Eddie stood there looking flushed, lips parted, dragging one hand down his stomach as his pupils dilated to take you in.

You gulped. “Hey. Is this too late? I wasn’t sure if you really meant---”

“Oh I really want you here,” Eddie stepped back, holding the door open with his body.

You were just going to walk through without making any physical contact, but then you found your body being sucked against his, as if by some gravitational pull, and you both sunk into each other. He was quick to put his arms around you, hugging you tighter, securing you to him as if your body was oxygen.

“I know we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he planted his lips on the top of your head, only removing them to speak. “I want to make it right, baby. I don’t ever want to hurt you, and I would never let anyone hurt---”

“I believe you,” you answered, moving further inside, wanting to get behind closed doors with him.

There were old, squeaky wood stairs that led up to the narrow hallway, and you held onto one of his belt loops as you followed him up, pausing so he could open the door and extend his arm for you to enter.

“So, this is where the magic happens,” you teased, taking in the open space that was bedroom, living room, and kitchen all in one. There were Iron Maiden and Slayer posters on the wall, a Harley Davidson plaque, as well as your painting, which was the first thing anyone saw when they walked in. Directly to your right was a hallway that looked like closet space and a door to a bathroom. It was a spacious, warehouse style loft with wood floors and a few round, woven rugs.

The windows...the windows were huge.

Eddie snorted at your comment, and was just about to turn around to take you into his arms again, when you bolted over to start busying yourself with lowering the curtains, starting with the window that faced the other side of the street.

“You really should keep these closed,” you told him, leaning over a table with a turntable and an 80’s style boombox. The pull did not work for the second curtain, and your frustration was mounting as you yanked at it, just as Eddie stepped over and put his hand on the cord.

“Let me do it, baby,” he met your eyes, trying to see if he could guess what had triggered such a frenzy.

While he finished dropping the blinds, you took the photos out of your bag, extending them when he turned around. You sat down at the end of the bed and watched his face as he slipped the contents out of the manila envelope to look at them.

He glanced at you a few times as he flipped through the photos, and his expression ebbed from confusion to anger and back again.

Eddie was shaking his head, hair hanging down, his strong fingers curling as if he wanted to crumple them up. “These aren’t...this is not what it looks like,” his eyes searched yours.

“I know,” you looked down, biting your top lip with your bottom teeth. “Erica told me you were set up. And Steve told me about...your other friend.”

The muscles in Eddie’s jaw tensed, teeth grinding, as his eyes narrowed on the window where most of the photos had been taken from. “Some fucker has been watching me this whole time?” The irrational part of Eddie wondered if the guy was over there, somewhere in the abandoned building, right at that moment. Maybe he should go over and introduce himself, possibly break the guys face with his own camera. Break his hands and throw him out the third story window while he was at it.

The photos were starting to make Eddie feel sick with rage, so he put them back in the envelope. Your bloodshot eyes fluttered and he could see how tired you were.

“Who would do this?” You asked, earnestly. “More importantly, why would they do it? I haven’t been here long enough to make enemies. Not of this caliber, anyway.”

Eddie put the envelope on top of the kitchen counter and sat down next to you on the bed with a heavy sigh. He had his hands resting on his knees, but then he took a chance and slid one arm over to interlace his fingers with yours, and you let him. He squeezed your hand. “It’s a long story, but a while back I made a mistake and got involved with this woman who--”

“Charlene Gregson?” She’d always been at the top of your list for someone who would have the motive for something so unnecessarily heinous.

“That’s the one,” he brought your hand over across his leg. “That’s where I went last night, to try and stop her, I suppose. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

That made a laugh bubble out of your chest for some reason. “What was your plan? Crash through her gates on your motorcycle on a cloud of smoke and seek vengeance?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, it always works out in the movies.”

You giggled and pulled away, but then he tugged you back, and you were still smiling as he scooped his hand around your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss, little hiccups of laughter erupting between kisses tongues slipping in ever so gently; Mulder and Scully having a conversation on the TV in the background. You held onto his wrist, sinking deeper into the yearning that you always felt for him, pulling back only to rub the tips of your noses together, lips grazing.

“Stay here with me tonight?” Eddie whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want to hold you.”

You were sure, you were almost positive, that you had just fallen asleep for a second while he was talking, and you blinked hard just as he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“But I stink, I smell like the Velvet Hammer. I didn’t have a chance to shower,” you mewed, feeling your body slump further into hibernation mode as the adrenaline from the past two days wore off.

“You don’t stink,” Eddie assured you. “You can sleep in one of my shirts, and you can use my toothbrush, if you don’t mind my germs.” He had your hand in his and was holding it to his chest as he watched your face.

“I figured you’d have plenty of extra toothbrushes here for all of the copious amounts of women who sleep over,” your exhaustion was making you feisty.

Eddie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I do have a few extras for emergencies. But I’ve never offered up my own personal toothbrush before.”

“Goodbye,” you chirped, standing up, ready to leave.

But Eddie chuckled and caught you around the waist, throwing you down on the bed next to him with a bounce and a grunt.

You were doing a poor job of stiffing your own laughter as you tried to keep a serious face, but then he moved to crawl on top of you and you watched his face seize in pain. He stiffened and put his hand over the area where his knife wound was, easing himself onto his back. While Eddie silently prayed that he hadn’t ripped his stitches, you went around the side of the bed to click the lamp off. You turned the TV off too; the music was on low, but that you didn’t mind.

“We are quite a pair tonight,” Eddie mumbled from the bed, slightly incapacitated, as he watched you moved around his apartment.

You loved the idea of sleeping in one of his shirts and hygiene and all that jazz, but in that moment—you weren’t sure you could last another second. Your lids were heavy and your conversation skills were at an all time low. With rubbery limbs, you climbed on the dark blue comforter of his bed and curled against him, making sure it was the side he hadn’t been stabbed on. Flat on his back, Eddie’s eyes never left you, and he was ready with his arm high and outstretched for your head to make a pillow out of his shoulder.

“I can’t keep my eyes open for another second,” you yawned. You grabbed his chest to pull yourself closer, like he was a pillow, and he kissed your forehead.

You kissed the gash on his cheek, nuzzling the hair just above his ear, planting more kisses as you went. Eddie felt his cock spring to life in his jeans and he was too exhausted to do anything about it. You cupped your hand on the side of his neck, kissed the corner of his mouth, and then finally let your cheek fall to his shoulder with a flop.

Eddie took hold of your leg at the crook of your knee to pull it across his hips, needing to feel your weight, not wanting to let you get away. He closed his eyes, drowning in the feel of your soft puffs of breath on his neck, your chest moving up and down on his arm. He planted his lips to your head again, giving a few audible smooches before he rested his torn cheek lightly against you.

He wrapped his arm around tighter, bringing you closer. “You know, Robin called you my girlfriend today,” he admitted, a low laugh rumbling from his chest.

The only response you could manage was, “mmmpfm?”

The stubble of his jaw grazed your forehead as he contemplated what he was about to say. He’d just been stabbed, and it made him consider his mortality, and the time he had left.

“I was thinking,” he breathed. “If you like the sound of that, maybe we could, make it official? That is, if you could ever see yourself having a dirtbag like me as a boyfriend.”

Your body had gone limp and, in the following seconds while he waited for a response, he heard a soft whistle in your nose and a snore catch in the back of your throat. A few drops of drool started pooling from the side of your mouth and made a wet spot on his shirt.

Eddie chuckled, peeking down at you, but trying not to move too much, not realizing he was about to drift off to sleep as well.

-----------

You weren’t sure what time it was when your head rolled off of Eddie’s shoulder, jerking you awake, but it was dark outside, and you were still in the same position you were when you passed out: hand loosely cupping his neck, and your leg stretched across his hips. His head had rolled to the side, away from you, full lips parted, and the blue glow from the stereo cast a moody light on his skin, making his cheek wound look like something out of science fiction.

Still half asleep, you kissed the exposed muscles of his throat, right at the spot where the dark lines from his back tattoo came up across his neck, and your hand slid down his chest; you didn’t have a plan, you just wanted to feel him. His breathing was steady and shallow, eyeballs dancing under his lids. Your hand met with the top of his jeans, and then your eyes widened at the bulge that was causing a huge gap from skin to denim.

You slid your leg off of him, letting your hand move down a bit further, and your hand had to widen over his clothing to pass over the expanse of his arousal there.

Without even realizing it, you had started thrusting your hips against him, working your core against his hip, and then you lifted up to kiss his chin, aching to find his mouth with yours. You’d gone over to his place with every intention of being intimate with him, and nature had intervened with other plans, but you still wanted him to know how bad you wanted him, how much you craved him every second of the day.

Eddie groaned awake to return your kiss, and one of his hands grabbed your face. “Who is this greedy girl?” He mumbled against your mouth, his eyes droopy.

You straddled him, keeping your knees low, at his thighs, careful not to hit his wound. You started to move your core up and down along the bulge under his jeans, and then you leaned forward to brush your lips against his as you spoke. “You’re so hard, let me take care of it.”

Eddie whimpered a little in the back of his throat. “You can take whatever you want, baby,” and then a visible shiver ran through his body at the mere thought of your mouth on his cock.

You inched your way down, sucking hickeys into the dark tattoos spread across his stomach and chest, avoiding the medical tape from his bandage. Eddie moaned and threw his head back as you licked along the inside of his hip, unzipping his jeans to pull them down.

No boxers underneath, his huge cock sprang free, and the sight of the pre-cum already dripping from the pink tip made your mouth water. Eddie bit his lip while he watched you from under hooded eyes as you took control, pulled his jeans down further, and straddled his leg.

You bent over, and kept eye contact with him as you licked all the way down the shaft, and then wet the tip with your mouth, flicking your tongue along the slit, cleaning up his primal release.

Eddie pupils were blown, his lips parted as he watched.

“Whose cock is this?” You asked, teasing the tip with your wet mouth, planting hungry kisses down his shaft.

Eddie choked a little in the back of his throat. “It’s—it’s yours baby.”

He was already rock hard—throbbing, even---and your core flowered open beneath your clothes, soaking your underwear to the point that you actually had to reach down and touch yourself as you sucked him. Eddie noticed this and it made him mumble, “fuckbabyfuck,” as his leg squirmed, digging his heel into the bed.

You worked the tip of his cock with your hand while you sucked one of his balls into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but smile a little at how crazy it was making him.

Somehow, between sleeping on someone else’s couch and working, Eddie had neglected to jerk off recently, and so he was about to….

“Fuck, baby, right there,” he hissed, bucking his hips. “You’re gonna make me…”

You went back to work, gripping him with hand and mouth in tandem, lips stretching to take all of him, eyes watering, swallowing his tip in the back of your throat every so often, as he watched you with a furrowed brow, cursing under his breath.

Suddenly, his breath started to hitch, and the fingers of one of his hands dug into the comforter. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby...if you want it...like that…”

He was warning you as if you’d pull your mouth off and jerk him the rest of the way, but you wanted all of it in your mouth. You moaned as you sucked at the tip, pulling the orgasm out of him, saliva dripping down his balls.

Eddie let out a whimper and his leg jerked just before he stilled, and you tasted the salty sweetness of his warm cum shoot into the back of your throat in bursts. You drank his spend like his dick was a straw, throat busy swallowing every drop, moaning as you did so. You milked the tip for all he could give you, and then you cleaned him up with your greedy tongue, planting kisses on his cock when he was done with his release.

Eddie stared at the ceiling, slightly shook. “How are you so good at that?”

You sighed a quick laugh, licking your lips, as you made your way to the bathroom to finally brush your teeth. When you came back out, he was already asleep.

------------

As your eyes opened and adjusted to a sliver of buttery light peeking in from the curtain, your mind put you in several places. First, you were in your childhood bedroom, feeling like you needed to get up and ready for school, and then you were in the more recent bed in the house you shared with Katie. But, then the Iron Maiden poster came into focus and you were slammed with the realization that you had passed out in Eddie’s bed and it was already morning. Your intention had been to take a nap for an hour or two, but now you were alert to the idea that Eddie might still be somewhere in the room.

You remembered falling asleep on Eddie’s shoulder, waking up hungry for his cock, but now you were facing in the other direction, there was a blanket over you, and someone had taken your shoes off. It was Sunday, so the garage was closed, but you could still hear voices down below and the sound of a car engine revving. You reached your hand behind you to pat the bed, but only found an empty space; either Eddie was in the bathroom or he had already gone downstairs to start his day. God, what time was it?

You rolled over to crawl across the bed to look at the digital alarm clock, inhaling the smell from Eddie’s pillow as you went, and choked a little when you saw it was almost 9:30.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, throwing the cover off of your body. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept in for that long. A fear that you’d be late for work gripped you, but then you were reminded that you were no longer the director of a gallery, and your new job didn’t start until cocktail hour.

You found your shoes tucked neatly against the sofa, and on the kitchen counter in front of the coffee pot was a note propped up like a little tent with your name on it.

I had to run a tow.

I hope you’re here when I get back.

Thank you for taking it like a good girl last night.

-- E

Eddie and his little notes. You grinned as you folded it up and put it in your pocket, because of course you’d be saving any note he ever left you till the end of time.

It was then that a heavy fist started pounding on the door down below. “Helloooo? Anyone? What the hell do I gotta do to get some service around here?”

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Even though the mechanics were all off that day, the towing business was a 24 hour thing. There was another Coffin King named Lou who was usually able to cover some nights and weekends, but when Eddie found himself stuck with a pickup at the worst possible time, he tried to focus on the money and be grateful for it.

He’d considered waking you up to see if you wanted to go with him, but you were sleeping so peacefully, he didn’t have the heart to disturb you. He woke up with his cock so achingly hard thinking about what you did to him in the middle of the night, that he had to jerk off as quietly as possible in the shower that morning. He was sure you’d heard the grunt he barked when he came, thinking about filling you up, listening to you tell him how deep you wanted all of him inside of you.

The last time he went this long without having intercourse with a girl that he had feelings for was maybe his freshman year in high school. The crazy thing was, he was enjoying the feeling of waiting and making it special; even though the holding out part was totally accidental, and he would’ve jumped at the chance to bury himself inside you that very first night you met.

But the way you took care of him last night, holy shit: he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t tell if he had really found the Holy Grail of women, or if his feelings for you had made it as intense as it was; possibly a bit of both. He was seized with memories of your mouth on him off and on while he was on the job, and he’d have to slyly adjust himself in his jeans. He couldn’t wait to get back to you.

He started to whistle as he rounded the corner to re-enter the compound, hoping that your car was still there, hoping that he could….

But he spotted a different car in the lot right next to yours that hadn’t been there before, and you were coming out from out of the garage with your hand shielding your eyes, looking deeply concerned.

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You considered just letting whoever it was keep on knocking, but at one point, the person yelled: “Eddie! I know you’re here! Don’t make me take your bike for a spin around the block!”

And so, you put your shoes on and went down, wholly unprepared for what you would find.

There were two smiling faces practically pressed up against the glass of the main door as you descended the stairs. One was a guy with a mop of brown curls, and the woman with him had beautiful olive skin, black hair, and wore glasses. They both waved enthusiastically, happy to finally be acknowledged.

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“What the hell, Henderson?” Eddie parked the tow truck and jumped down, wallet chain flapping against his jeans. Eddie waved to you across the way, as his mouth opened into a toothy grin, exposing actual cheek dimples, that you’d maybe only seen him wear once or twice.

“If it isn’t the Dungeon Master!” Dustin came toward him with his arms out. “What the hell is up with you and Steve? You’re the two hardest losers to find!”

They hugged, and then Eddie tousled Dustin’s hair, mussing it up. “You haven’t changed a bit, you little goblin.”

Next to you, under the shade of the awning was a very pregnant Suzie, who you’d also just met. She was in a purple floral dress with a white collar, and you’d pulled a chair around for her to have a seat.

“I love to see my Dusty Buns happy again,” she said, passing her hand over the globe of her belly as you both watched the two men embrace. “We should’ve moved back sooner, but life just got away from us.”

“How do you all know each other?” You were just barely able to introduce yourself before Eddie pulled up, and so you had no idea how close the gang was.

“I’m surprised the boys never mentioned Dustin to you? They went to high school together; they’re all really close. Steve is basically Dustin’s surrogate father,” she giggled, lifting her sweet moon-shaped face to you in a soft smile.

You did feel a little self-conscious about not knowing, but there was a good reason for it. “Well, I’m...Eddie and I are…kind of a new thing.” But then you remembered that you did know a little bit about one of their old friends. “They’ve mentioned Max to me. I guess she visited a couple days ago? I didn’t get to meet her though.”

“Maxine is a riot!” Suzie exclaimed. “You’ll get you meet her and Lucas when the baby is born. They said they wanted to be here for the actual birth, but who can really tell when that will be? I’m due in a week, but I was born two weeks early, and my sister’s newest baby was born almost a month late,” her eyes got glossy. “Boy, I really can’t imagine holding this baby in for another hour, let alone another month.”

Eddie had his arm around Dustin’s shoulders as they approached, and he gave him a playful knuckle rub to the head before they parted.

Eddie greeted Suzie, and she went to stand up to hug him, but Eddie quickly bent over and kissed her on the cheek so that she wouldn’t have to move. He swallowed as he took in the enormous state of her pregnant belly. “Shouldn’t you be...resting? Is it too hot out here? Should we go inside? Are you comfortable in that chair?”

Suzie laughed. “My god, Eddie, you’re as bad as Dustin. I’m fine, I promise. I’m trying to shake this baby loose; this little person has rented out my womb for long enough.”

Eddie met your eyes and kissed you on the lips before he put his arm around you and pulled you against him.

It was the wrong side, again, and he winced.

Dustin noticed the look of pain. “What the hell happened to you?”

“He got stabbed,” you volunteered with a sheepish look on your face, tilting your head to Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh, of course he did,” Dustin said, his mouth wide. “What else would Eddie or Steve be doing on the weekends besides mortal combat?”

Suzie looked concerned, but Eddie assured the group that he was fine. He looked you in the face as he said: “So, did you two get to meet my girl?”

Your cheeks got warm, and you ran your hand up and down his back.

“Only briefly, before you rudely interrupted,” Dustin let him know, moving behind Suzie’s chair to put his hands on her shoulders. Dustin had been worried for a while there that Eddie would never move on from his ex, and that he would always be in a dark head space in regards to romance, and so seeing him with you made his heart feel light.

“You see Steve yet?” Eddie asked. “He’ll be pissed you didn’t come to see him first.”

“Um, not like we didn’t tryyyy,” Dustin raised both eyebrows. “No one was at the house and the tattoo shop wasn’t open yet. I talked to him on the phone a few weeks ago, but we weren’t sure when we’d be in town.”

Eddie thought about that for a second. It was very odd for neither one of them to be home, especially on a Sunday morning. But, there was a chance Robin took Oliver to a shift at work with her and Steve had spent the night at Astrid’s, depending on how early Dustin had popped by.

“I’ll find him,” Eddie assured them both. “Are you staying at your moms house.”

“Hell no,” Dustin responded almost too quickly. “I mean, I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but she’s been driving us up the wall lately. We’re renting a house a few blocks away from her until everything is finalized at our new place.”

They all made a plan to meet up as soon as they could figure out where Steve and Robin were, and once they were gone, Eddie turned to you, cupping your neck to pull you against him.

“Is it okay that I introduced you as my girl?” He stroked his thumb across your chin as he asked it, chocolate eyes unsure if they should meet your gaze or watch your mouth.

You lifted up to brush your lips across his, tongue peeking out only slightly, making him groan a little. You searched his eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Is that what I am?”

Eddie put his hands on your lower back and brought his head back, wanting to see your whole face. “You tell me. I wanna hear it. Are you my girl?”

You were nodding yes before he even finished. “I’ve been your girl for a long time now, silly boy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie breathed in a chuckle, his cock growing as he met your sweet, eager mouth. He paused only to admit, “I’ve wanted you to be mine since that first day we met.”

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Of all the places Steve had hoped to wake up on Sunday morning, a jail cell was not one of them.

He made bail, and Robin was there to pick him up, giving him a dirty look as she did so. He had his sunglasses on, his Coffin Kings cut in his hand, and a cigarette bobbing between his lips as he got into the passenger seat and shut the door. The “seek and destroy” tat on the side of his neck displayed loud and proud.

“Nice shiner,” Robin said under her breath.

“Yeah, well, you should see the other guy,” Steve said, cupping his hands to light his smoke. His black eye was the only visible mark on him, but the dude he had a tussle with had gone to town on Steve’s ribs, and there would definitely be bruises there.

She made a face as she backed out of the parking spot. “You smell like vomit.”

He ignored her observation. “Where’s Ollie?”

“I dropped him at Astrid’s,” she said as she pulled her own sunglasses down from the top of her head to cover her eyes. “I didn’t want him to see this.”

“Why are you acting like this was all my fault?” Steve blanched, flicking ash out the window as they turned out of the courthouse, Somebody to Shove by Soul Asylum playing on the radio. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know, Steve, that’s the point,” she barked. Her frustration with him was also mixed with a generous amount of worry. “When are you going to grow up and start walking away from danger instead of headlong into it every chance you get?”

“Oh I get it,” Steve said sarcastically. “So, you don’t care that Tina is back in town, and this had everything to do with her?”

Robin hit the breaks and turned to him so fast, a chunk of her hair stuck to her bottom lip. “What do you mean Tina is back in town?”

“Now you care?” He tapped his knee as he took another drag.

Robin felt like she forgot how to breathe, so she pulled over to park haphazardly along the sidewalk at an angle.

She turned the car off but left the air on. “You know how I feel about Tina, but please tell me you didn’t hit her.”

“Oh, fucking of course not,” Steve balked, snapping his head to look at her. He gestured to his black eye with the two fingers holding his cigarette, “this was courtesy of her new fiance. I think they were both on crack. They were waiting for me when I left work last night. Now, all of a sudden, out of the goddamn blue, Tina wants to see Oliver.”

Robin was shaking her head, gripping the steering wheel. “No, no, absolutely not,” she said, definitively. “She disappeared when he was 3 months old. No. There’s no way. She’s a drug addict, she’s a narcissist, no. Not a chance in hell.”

“I know, Rob, believe me. It’s not going to happen, okay?” Steve assured her with a wave of his hand. “At least not until she cleans her life up.”

Christina, Oliver’s biological mother, didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body, and never wanted anything to do with her son, but the fear had always been in the back of his head that one day she’d pop up like a mean, STD rash.

Robin felt her eyes getting moist and she wiped at her cheeks angrily. “Where are her and her fleabag fiance now?”

“Oh I put that scumbag in the hospital so hard,” Steve threw the rest of his cigarette out the window and licked his lips. “He’s lucky I didn’t put him in a grave. I’m sure Tina’s already changed her mind, you know how fickle and selfish she is. They were most likely on a bender and thought they’d come through town and fuck with us. They’re probably on their way back to Memphis by now. I don’t want you to worry about it, okay?”

Robin swallowed a few times, trying to allow him to comfort her. She never expected or intended to fall into this roll and be a mother to Steve’s son. But, it happened. Oliver was their son now, and she loved him as much as if he had grown in her womb. And, she would fight to keep him safe with the same level of conviction.

Steve sniffed and adjusted himself in his seat. “Thank you for bailing me out, by the way.”

Robin snorted as she started the car. “Dingus, I could barely afford the gas to drive over here, and you think I had the cash to bail you out? Get real.”

Steve frowned. “Who was it, then? They said I made bail. Otherwise, I’d still be rotting in there.”

“I assumed it was Astrid? Or Eddie?”

Steve shook his head. “Eddie doesn’t know, and Astrid is in the same financial hole we are.”

Robin put the car in drive but kept the break on. “Well, who was it then?” She posed the question as both of them searched their collective data bank memories for a close friend nearby who had more than two pennies to rub together, or something valuable to use as collateral.

Hours later, they still couldn’t think of anyone.

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You left Eddie reluctantly so that he could go look for Steve, and you could take a long awaited shower and throw your nicotine-saturated clothes in the wash. The business card with John Gregson’s email, phone number, and private extension was on your dresser, and you stopped to pick it up as you walked across the room. You meant to bring up the situation to Eddie, but the timing was never right. Was John trying to mess with you in the same way his wife wanted to mess with Eddie? You didn’t get a bad feeling from him, but now, after everything with the photos and Charlene paying people off, you weren’t sure.

A voice inside whispered that John could be an ally if you impressed him, and he had the notion to take you under his wing. John was the one with all the power at the end of the day, and if Charlene could play with fire, well then, so could you.

You decided to give him a call first thing Monday, and hopefully make a consultation appointment with him to get a taste for what type of art piece would suit his tastes and needs. You wondered if it was for his office or home? If it was a piece for his personal space at home, would you bump into Charlene while you were there, commiserating with her husband? The idea of getting under Charlene’s skin and making her sweat a little scratched an itch in you that you had not been able to reach for a while.

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Part 11

Eddie after reader is done with him image courtesy of @tenthmoon

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It's so damn cool that some of you have made it this far and continue to want to know what goes on with reader and our boys! It warms my heart in a way I'm having trouble expressing in words xoxo

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