#piney point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

courtingchaos · 1 month

Text

The Boy is Mine (Meg’s Version)

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

For @carolmunson little prompt game/request/event/whathaveyou. Day week late and a dollar short as usual but I just can’t bust them out like I used to (ha ha ha). Event rules here. This is short and sweet because I’m not allowed to be precious about my writing anymore. It creates the anxiety in me.

Warnings: Weed smoking, drinking, tattooing (inebriated and unschooled), allusions to sex.

Word Count: 1.6k

A day spent rotting away in the dark recesses of his room. No Wayne, away on a hunting trip with his VFW buddies, and no work. Two days to yourselves with one reserved for outdoor activities and today set aside to spend the better part of the day in bed. The rain is what woke you up first, unexpected, the hard and sudden pattern beaten into the corrugated metal jolting you from your cocoon of worn soft sheets. The scratch of a record and the piney smoke of Rick’s good weed pulling you from the bed and into your discarded clothes.

You catch sight of Eddie moving around the kitchen in just his boxers, joint tucked neatly into the corner of his mouth that mutters along with Zeppelin.

“Just gonna abandon me like that?” You ask behind him, your hand stuck in the sleeve of your t-shirt. He turns before you can get it unstuck and he gets an eye full of your chest while you unintentionally flash him, his grin widening.

“Well good evening to me.” He leans against the counter where you can see two pizza boxes that weren’t there earlier and you try to reach past him but he snatches your hand in his and pulls you in for an embrace. Half hug, half struggle on your end while you try for the pizza. “Would you just hug me?” His laugh is low and scratchy from sleep and smoke, smoke that rolls from his mouth off his words. You just purse your lips at him until he gives in and places the damp paper between your pout with a sigh. “You just want me for my weed and my body huh?”

“Oh don’t be like that, you know that isn’t true!” You snag a slice and slip out of his grip with a grin and his joint to toss yourself on the couch. “I also want you for your mixtapes and the rides to work.”

Eddie watches you from under the cabinets with glassy eyes, a smirk playing on his lips while you shove half the slice in your mouth and rest the joint in the ashtray beside you. The tv plays the local news on almost mute while he moves around the kitchen again, cups clinking and fridge door shutting before he joins you on the couch in drape over your hip. A chipped high ball glass gets nudged in front of you on the side table before the cheap bottle of wine you brought over hovers in front of your face with the strain of his stretch.

“I ran out of nice cups your highness, I hope this is okay.” The liquid almost sloshes out onto the veneered table top but Eddie catches the slip of his fingers, neck of the bottle clutched tight in his fist so he can pour his own glass before setting the bottle down on the floor.

“No Garfield mug?”

“That stays on the wall now, I’m afraid.” With a sigh he nudges down to wedge behind you and prop himself up on an elbow, long arm reaching over to steal his weed back. “After Wayne found it on the floor that last time.” A pointed look at the back of your head that you can feel without seeing.

“I apologized for that.”

“I know, but he’s a stickler for his mugs my dear.” He runs a flat palm under your shirt and up your back, blunt nails scratching lightly on their way down. Over your shoulder he watches the news with you, half paying attention while he intermittently switches between rubbing your back and holding the joint over for you to pull off of. By the time the high school scores are being discussed you’ve hit a gentle high that relaxes you back into his chest, almost empty glass of wine cradled to your own. In the back of your thoughts you remember one of your weekend plans and try to remember if you brought your sketchbook with you.

Lips pressed to your temple Eddie whispers into your hair when he notices the crease in your brow. “What’s up?”

“Thinking.”

“I can tell.” A small nip at the high point of your cheek that makes you giggle. “Something wrong?”

“No, I just was thinking about that stick and poke idea.”

“Oh!” Suddenly his voice is bright and he sits up to look down at you. “You wanna do that?”

Before you can answer him he’s crawling over you, avoiding kicking over the empty bottle of wine on his way off the couch and back down to his room. A moment later he scurries back out with a big smile and a small tin box that rattles in is hands when he holds it out to you to take.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What’s your plan? What are you gonna put on me permanently?” He taps his feet against the carpet and you give him a once over, his small smattering of tattoos moving with him as he wiggles around anxiously. The glassy look that you know mirrors your own gives you half a minute of pause before you get up to find your bag and root around for the small notebook you usually take with you.

Eddie had watched over your shoulder one afternoon while you had doodled mindlessly and had suddenly pushed his finger into your pencil lines with a gasp.

“That one.”

“What about it?” You laugh at him when he invades your space.

“I want that on my leg.”

“A tattoo?”

“Yeah! We can bring it in and see if they can do it justice or,” he gives you a quick peck on the forehead, “You could always do it.”

Flipping to the page with the simple heart and dagger you show it to him with a raised eyebrow. “You still want this one?”

He gives it a glance before looking at you with an easy grin. “Unless you have something else in mind.”

A shake of your head before you grab one of the kitchenette chairs for him to sit in. He snags the remote and looks for anything on tv while you search for a clean glass and paper towels. When you come back to him he’s already pulled the coffee table over and left the box open, one of the throw pillows tossed on the floor between his feet for you to sit on.

“Get a little peckish out there?” He nods at your hands full of supplies, the tub of vanilla frosting hidden behind the glass of water.

“No, this is for you so you don’t get fidgety.” You drop it in his lap with a spoon and he rips into it before you can sit fully, the giggles between you two quiet and infectious. It’s quiet work while you find the perfect spot on his thigh for the simple drawing and use the makeshift safety-pin-turned-needle to gently draw out the shape with the India ink.

“You sure you shouldn’t make it a little bigger?” Eddie asks around a glob of frosting. He’s not demanding, anything but, however he gazes down at you with such an easy countenance you can’t find the right words to argue with him.

“Do you want it bigger?”

His head tilts while he admires your work, a low hum from the back of his throat while he thinks it over. “Just a skosh.”

He shares his frosting with you like he did his joint, holding the spoon down for you to eat off while you start over and finish, presenting his thigh to him with a flourish.

“Perfect.”

“Okay, now hold still. I don’t want to hurt you.” You dip the tip of the pin into the ink and look up at him watching you. He’s still firmly in the giddy part of his high and he can’t help but smirk at you. “But what if I like that?”

All you can do is roll your eyes at him before you set to your work. Steady pokes against his pale thigh that follow along your faint sketch, the heart a simple curve you can get lost in while Eddie watches you with rapt attention.

“I like watching you work.” He says lowly, frosting forgotten in his hand. You only answer him with a smile while you get more ink on the pin and start working on the point of the dagger, his hiss the only sign of his discomfort. Behind you the TV is just noise that neither of you pay attention to, a little bubble of contentment engulfing the two of you.

“You push your jaw forward when you concentrate.” He whispers while holding out a bite of frosting for you to take. “It’s cute.”

Your breath breezes over his sore thigh, a cool break from the mounting burn of his new tattoo. Finally you look up from your work to lick the spoon and you have to laugh at his groan.

“Pervert.” You tease while scooting in closer to him.

“How else would you want me? Decent?” He scoffs.

You sit up to admire your work, checking for any missed spots. “Never.” Your lines aren’t perfect but it’s yours and it’s on Eddie and he let you put it on him. In his skin. There’s a weird weighty feeling in your chest and before you can stop yourself you drop a kiss on the inside of his thigh, just under the new ink.

His hair curtains around you when he leans down to mimic you with a soft kiss to the back of your head. “If you aren’t careful,” He mutters against you, his smile evident, “we’re gonna have a problem maybe.” He teases you with fingers that brush against your hairline.

“I don’t know if I’d call it a problem, wasn’t that kind of the point of this weekend?”

“You’re absolutely right.” He lets you lean back into him as he sits up, frosting forgotten when your head finds its place in the crook of his hip, your handiwork just out of view.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Fluff #My Work #My Fic

201 notes · View notes

marvelous-slut · 6 months

Text

Rats - Chibs Telford x Reader

not many warnings on this one, just mentions of guns i think? xx

You feel your body tense up as you hear the motorcycle pull up to your driveway. The gun in your hand is cold, but you have a tight grip on it. You have your mothers crucifix in the other hand, holding onto it just as tight as you pray silently. Tears fall from your eyes as you stand up to face the door way. The engine turns off and your body goes cold, holding the gun out to the door. Prepared to kill whoever it is that has been sent to kill you.

It was always said Piney, Clay and Bobby had spent many days in the club house carrying you around. They held you, fed you, changed you. Bobby was the most attached to you out of the three men, once you got old enough he’d make sure he had things to keep you occupied. He didn’t want you thinking of your father Otto being locked up and at this time as far as you were concerned your mother had a 9-5, but everyone knew she was filming her movies to try to help with the expenses that came with a baby.

Jax and Opie had been your right hand men for years. The two of you had did everything together. Riding bikes together and imitating all of your fathers, running around Teller-Morrow together. Once the three of you hit high school, your trip was inseparable. Lots of parents didn’t want their kids hanging around “biker thugs” kids.

Tig was like the creepy uncle, sure you didn’t like to sit alone with him but he sure did know how to make someone laugh when they were down. Juice, while quiet he thought highly of you. You were always willing to help him out, and he did the same for you. Any time he over heard you talk about going on dates, he was looking up information on the guy to make sure he wouldn’t cause any problems. Happy was different, he usually said nothing when you were around. You couldn’t help but like him because when he did say something, it was always a great comeback or eagerness to help the club.

Chibs Telford, he was the man who occupied your mind day in and day out. The one who looked out for you most in the club besides Bobby. You didn’t know what it was or why he did the things he did for you, but they always made you feel like a high school girl again with a crush. Anytime at the SAMCRO parties when you’d have a little too much to drink, he’d make sure you made it to his bed safe and sound, untouched. He’d let you sleep there alone until the morning when you felt better. He always had coffee made for you two to share. Maybe it was the fact he had a daughter he couldn’t take care of as you were younger than him, but it made you feel a way about him that you’d never felt about anyone else.

One of these men would kill you tonight and you were sure of it. You hoped it would be Happy, convinced it would be him. He would kill at the drop of a hat, plus you were close to him. Bobby would never be able to pull the trigger he was too close. No one else made sense. Your father had ratted on the club and tonight they’d seek revenge on his child as his wife was buried 6 feet under ground. As much as you loved these men dearly, considered them family you also knew what they were capable of if it hurt the club. The engine turns off and you hear a knock at the door. You set the crucifix down, holding on to the gun with both hands. Your heart falls when you see Chibs standing at your door, of course. They’d sent him to end your life. As he sees you with the gun pointed at him, he throws his hands up in the air.

“Jesus Christ! Lass, put that thing away!” You continue holding the gun, pointing it directly at his head. You feel yourself shaking, unsure if it was fear or shock. Maybe even both. Tears spill over as you realize the man you’d been in love with would kill you, or you’d kill him.

“No. I know dad ratted. I know what you’re here for!” You scream, shoving the gun closer to him. He grabs it and jerks it down. He takes the gun, emptying the bullets. You fall to the floor, tears falling down your face. “I don’t want to die.”

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?” He asks, shoving the weapon into the waist band of his pants. He squats down, pushing hair out of your face. “Who’s going to kill ya?”

“Apparently you! The club has to send a message to dad about him flipping, my moms dead. He has nothing else to loose besides me.” You say, Chibs feels his heart ache at the sight of your tears and fear. He grabs your face, making you look him in the eyes.

“Love, no one’s killing anyone. Jackie boy wanted me to come by and make sure you were okay. Reassure you the club still has your back, we know this ain’t your fault. What your father has done doesn’t outweigh the trust we have in you.” The words make a weight lift off your chest. You wipe the remaining tears away and laugh. Chibs remains a little distraught that you thought he would be coming to kill you.

“They wouldn’t send me anyways, probably send Happy.” He says, chuckling as he does. “Jax says we have some kinda fucked up bond.” You think back to the times Jax had told you at the club house you had daddy issues after he’d saw you and Chibs together.

“That bastard.” You say, sighing afterwards. Chibs has a confused look on his face.

“Do we have some kinda fucked up thing?” He asks. You grab his hands, running your fingers over them.

“Maybe we do. But I like it.” You say, he smiles, pulling you into his chest. Your face lays on his kutte as he runs a hand through your hair. “Would you please stay tonight?” You whisper.

“I’d love to.”

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #chibs x you #chibs imagine #chibs sons of anarchy

281 notes · View notes

nia-jul · 3 months

Text

TRUTH OR DARE

You and Gojo are constantly in battle at the top of your classes. The tension that always seems to surround you comes to head at a party

Academic rivals, enemies to lovers, a little mature but nothing too bad

——————————————————————

You wonder how much trouble you’ll be in if you kill Satoru Gojo.

It’s something you think about often, despite how wrong you know the violent thoughts tend to be. You imagine reaching over in English, where he sits directly in front of you, and throttling his neck, right before the dip of his collarbone, the paleness of his smooth skin blooming under your palms.

Of course, you haven’t always been like this. At every school you’ve been to, your need for academic validation drove you to the top of your classes and that was where it ended. There was no competition. You were, as vain as it sounded, the smartest, and you always had been. There’d never really been much competition, and you’d loved your position at the top.

That all changed when you started at Jujutsu High School.

It had been after your first History exam. For the most part, you’d kept your head down, made a few friends. You hadn’t spoken to most people, but you didn’t mind the lack of attention. It was after your teacher had passed back your exams, a beaming smile on his face as he passed you the paper with a bright red ‘99%’, that he’d turned around.

The first thing you noticed was his bright blue eyes. They seemed to bore into you as they fell on your face, flitting over your features, before falling on your paper. You sneak a glance at his, and catch the ‘97%’ before he shifts it out of your eyeline. The next thing you notice is how unfortunately attractive he is, even as his face contorts into a sneer.

“You beat me?” His voice is low, as if he’s scared for anyone else to hear.

“Yeah. I guess.”

He scoffed. “Well, don’t get used to it. Me not being first isn’t a very common occurrence around here.”

You’d been annoyed enough at his cockiness that you’d snarled back, “I wasn’t ‘around here’ before. We’ll see if you stay first. If my 99% is anything to go by, you probably won’t.”

Sure, maybe you could’ve been mature and not fall for his obvious ploy to taunt you. But self-control was not one of your strong points, and it seemed to get even worse around him. Your snipe back seemed to have introduced a back and forth between the two of you.

Every test, every project, the two of you were fighting for the top place. He’d beat you in a maths paper, and you ran for longer during the bleep test. Gojo drove you to revise harder, spend more time holed up in the library, if only to get one step further. Not only that, but he loved to taunt you. How you’d tie your hair, the way you’d colour code all your notes. Any little thing to spike your blood pressure. Gojo would grin, mouth turning up at the corners, eyes boring into yours, his stupid perfect, soft hair falling into his eyes, laughing in that stupid way he did.

Today, his annoying laugh infiltrates your ears as he brandishes your latest English essay, that had received a smiley face. Which, from Mr Choy, was no easy feat. The max praise he dished out was a nod, imperceptible at best. As if that wasn’t bad enough, this was English. Your subject, the one you’d always been best at, everywhere. He couldn't get this as well.

“Look. Right under my A+, a beautiful smiley face. This must be due to my academic prowess.” He grins.

He leans over his chair to your desk, where he points at your paper, which is very obviously void of any emoticons. The scent of his cologne, something piney and expensive, infiltrates your nose, and you want to shove him away.

“Huh. That’s funny. Yours doesn’t have one.” He pouts, tilting his head in fake sympathy.

“Shut up, Gojo.”

“Wow. Remarkable response. I see why I’m better at English than you.”

You splutter, snatching your paper from under his eyes,“You’re not better at English than me.”

His fingers drum over the paper. “You sure?”

You decide to ignore him. You turn your attention to the two girls besides you who are talking about Sukuna’s party. You were invited, but you weren’t really sure if you’d go yet. Parties weren’t exactly the funnest thing in the world. All sweaty teenagers and alcohol.

Gojo must see you watching them because he, of course, has to chime in.

“Are you going to Sukuna’s?”

“I might.”

“Were you even invited?”

You cross your arms over your chest, a spike of irritation travelling up your spine.

“Yes, I was invited.”

Gojo makes a face then, like it’s the most unbelievable thing that could happen on planet earth.

“Is that a surprise to you?”

He shrugs, and turns back around. “I didn’t think parties were your thing.”

“You don’t know what my thing is.”

He turns back around. A slant of light catches on his face, maybe his eyes seem impossibly bluer as they focus on you. You turn your gaze down, to avoid the sheer scrunity you’re under.

“I think I could guess. Friday night holed up in a library or your house with a stack of books? Even the thought of alcohol sending you into a shock?” He clutched a hand to his chest.

“Fuck off.” Gojo winces at your tone.

“God. You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Gojo nods slowly, patting your hand, which you snatch away. “It’s okay. I know all that studying doesn’t leave time for love.”

“Well. I don’t have a boyfriend but that doesn’t mean I’m not seeing anyone.”

You don’t know why you said that. You’re definitely not seeing anyone right now. You’d only been at Jujutsu high for about two months. You could count the boys at this school you’d spoken to on one hand. But Gojo didn’t need to know that.

And it was the right decision. Because upon hearing your words, Gojo looks… Weird. His face sort of freezes slightly, and you’re sure he’s clenching his jaw by how a muscle suddenly clenches in it. But the surprise is gone as quickly as it arrived, and he blinks back to his normal, unbothered expression.

“Really? Who?”

“Don’t think that’s any of your buisness.”

“Whatever. Doubt it’ll last anyways.” He says it with a curl of disgust that has you frowning.

“Just turn around, you dick.”

“Okay. But not because you told me to.”

So infuriating. His cocky, self-assured nature is why you decide that lunchtime you are definitely going to Sukuna’s party.

You make this decision with Shoko. She’s probably the closest friend you’d made since you got here. Despite the fact that Gojo, her and the other boy that hung around them were all best friends. She listened to your rants about how insufferable Gojo was, and how much you wanted to throttle him with enough enthusiasm to keep you going. She was also under the impression you liked him, but you ignored those comments.

“You should’ve heard him, Shoko. Like I was disgusting, or something. God, he’s so annoying.” You shout the last sentence in your palms which are covering your face.

Shoko grins, popping a bubble with the nicotine gum she’d started chewing. You knew her no smoking wouldn’t last. She went through this every couple weeks, at your incessant nagging.

“Who gives a shit what he says? He’s never had a girlfriend before.”

Your mouth drops open a little. He’s definitely attractive enough to get a girlfriend. It must be his abhorrent personality that stops him. You don’t realise you said that out loud until Shoko raises an eyebrow.

“You think he’s attractive?” She coos, fanning her face dramatically.

“Shut up. What are you gonna wear?”

You spend the rest of your lunch discussing outfits and making Shoko promise not to leave you alone while you’re there, which she begrudgingly does, after your promise to buy her more gum.

———-

Upon walking into Sukuna’s house, you realise exactly why you don’t go to parties.

The atmosphere is thick with the stench of alcohol, and the music is loud enough you feel it beating in your chest. Shoko had insisted the two of you arrive fashionably late, so you’d avoid the awkward first part of the party before any alcohol had started working its way through peoples systems and broken the tension. You’d taken a couple shots at her house, as she swiped something glittery across your eyelids, and the drinks were warming the inside of your stomach.

Shoko’s hand is clasped around your wrist as she pulls you through the house. You feel eyes lingering on you. It’s the first time anyone at school has seen you in anything but the uniform. You’re wearing a short black dress, the expanse of your legs and probably a little too much of your chest out on display. You’d also rubbed some of this weird glittery stuff Shoko had in her house all over yourself, so you were sort of glinting under the lights. You didn’t mind the stares too much. It was ego boosting if anything.

You arrive in the furthest room, where the majority of your classmates have congregated. You see Sukuna, Uraume, who hangs off his arm, and who you think are Mahito and Choso, lounging on the couch. Sukuna is attractive. Muscular arms and pink hair that the school’s incessant nagging hadn’t affected. He was hot in a hes-no-good-for-me type of way, and you look away quickly when he locks eyes with you across the room. You see other gaggles of groups, even surprisingly Sukuna’s younger brother, Yuji, whos laughing with a dark-haired boy and a girl who sort of looks like Shoko.

The girl in mention takes you to one corner, where Gojo and his friend are in animated conversation. The former immediately stops talking upon your arrival. His eyes travel up your body, lingering on your legs, your chest, before they rest on your eyes. He doesn’t greet you, just looks away. Which is a shame, because the black button down and trousers hes wearing, paired with the silver chain that dangles from his neck, look disgustingly good on him. The boy next to him, on the other hand, smirks in a way that should be illegal, and extends a hand.

“Hi. I’m Geto, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

His voice can only be described as silk, smooth and rumbling from deep in his chest. You don’t even think about how it’s kind of weird he’s asking to shake your hand. You just reach out, shake it, and hope the flush you feel on your cheeks isn’t visible. You tell him your name, and a more mischievous grin break out across his face.

“Hey wait, I know you. You’re the girl Satoru always talks about!”

Gojo turns, suddenly. “Suguru-”

“Oh, really?” You grin at Gojo, “What does he say about me?”

“He’s always complaining when you beat him in class, or when you say something snarky to him, which I find quite funny. Just today he was hating on the fact you got a bo- Ow!”

He’s cut off by a sharp elbow in his gut. Gojo’s clenching his jaw, a look so murderous on his face you let out at laugh. Its much less funny when he aims it at you.

“Shut up. I’m getting a drink.” He points at Geto. “You. Don‘t speak while I'm gone.”

You give it a minute before you follow Gojo to the kitchen, telling Shoko you’re getting your own drink. You ignore the knowing look on her face. He’s leaning against the counter when you walk in, and you try ignore his eyes on your back as you survey the options of drinks. You end up pouring coke and an alarming amount of vodka in a red cup.

“Woah. Careful there. You don’t want to have too much fun, now. You might ditch your academia and become a party girl.”

You fake a laugh. “I know you’d love to see me drunk. It’d give you more stuff to talk to Geto about, right?”

You grin as his smile drops.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I don’t know. It really sounded like he did. What, are you obsessed with me or something?” You sigh, pressing a hand to your heart. “I’m flattered, really.”

Gojo doesn’t move for a second. Then he gets up, walks towards you.

“Do you want me to be?”

“W-what?” You stutter out a laugh.

He’s close enough that you back up into the counter. He doesn’t stop moving though, until he’s right in front of you. He rests his palms on the table behind you. Your breath pauses, a flush rising in your cheeks. You think you should push him away, because the scent of him is overwhelming, and his height is allowing him to tower over you. But you can’t. Even though you loathe him you can’t step away from him.

He leans lower, and his face is so close your lips are almost touching. You’re faintly aware of the people talking outside and how this must look if they walked in.

“Do you want me to be obsessed with you? To think about you when I’m in my room.”

His lips almost touch yours as he speaks. He moves to the side, now talking right into your ear.

“At night, when I’m alone. When I’m hot and I’m bothered and-“

Someone goes to open the kitchen door and the moment is broke. You push him off you, grab your drink and storm out the room before anyone catches you flustered at his hands.

What is his deal? Acting like- Acting like that. In public. Where anyone could of walked in, and seen how close you two were to kissing. Not that you want to kiss him. You don’t like Gojo, not like that. Not even as a friend.

It’s not like you think about him all the time. Only when you’re studying, because of course you need to focus your efforts on beating him. Or whenever you’re in class, because his white head is the only thing in your eyeline. Or whenever you see something blue.

But it’s not like you imagine kissing him. Or notice any of those details about him. Only when he looks at you. Really looks at you, like in class earlier that day, like he did in the kitchen.

Oh.

Shit.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Mahito suddenly shoots up from the couch. He’s energetic in an annoying way, always laughing and pissing someone off. You keep your distance. He announces that you’re going to play Truth or dare. The room pauses, unsure of how to react. Most of them look to Sukuna to see his reaction. He looks quite excited about it though.

“Isn’t that kind of childish? We aren’t 12.” Mako speaks up from across the room.

“Piss off, Maki. Don’t play then.” Her sister, Mai, says.

They’re both opposites, one dressed in a tight dress and the other jeans. They both sit on the floor in a circle, anyway. The rest of the group follows. Shoko sits next to you and you desperately avoid eye contact with Gojo, who has sat directly in front of you. Shoko noticed the tension and whisper to whisper in your ear.

“Is there something going on with you and Gojo?”

“No. Nothing.”

“You sure? You look kinda flushed.”

“Shut up.”

You shove her as she laughs. You parented you can’t feel someone staring right into you.

The game goes smoothly at the start. A couple dares to eat something disgusting, a few kisses. truths which lead to confessions, some to arguments. The circle shuffles as two people leave (most likely to make out) and you find yourself next to Sukuna. He nods at you and you give him a smile.

“Hiya.”

“Hello.” His voice is deep, gravelly.

“Nice party.”

“Thanks. My parents are definitely going to love the stench of alcohol in our carpets.”

You laugh and he grins. It makes him look awfully like his brother.

“You know, I’m surprised you invited your brother. I would have locked my sister in her room if she asked to come to a party I was throwing.” You marvel, nodding at the boy in question.

“Yeah, he begged me. And I owe him. Left him outside in the rain last week because I forgot to pick him up.” He shakes his head. “It was invite him or he told our parents.”

“He’s sweet, though. Other than the blackmail. Showed me around on my first day.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Of course he did. Ever the goody-two shoes. Teachers love him.”

“They don’t love you then?” You smile.

“Nah. I’m not the best behaved.” He grins again, and it stops looking cute like Yuji’s smile and turns into something much more troublesome.

“Mhm. I see how that’d get on their nerves.”

He stretches slightly, and his shirt rides up his arm, and you see a tattoo.

“Woah. That looks cool.” Your fingers graze them lightly.

You realise the alcohol you’d been slowly drinking has made you much braver than usual. You dont think Sukuna minds. You’re well aware of him flexing his biceps for you. What a show off.

“Thanks. Did them when I was sixteen.” He sounds wistful.

“You make it sound like it was ages ago.”

He shrugs.”Feels like it. I don’t regret them, but they don’t make getting a job any easier.”

“Are we going to keep playing, or what?”

Gojo’s voice cuts across the room, and everyone immediately sits back down. It’s not his party, evident by the sour expression on Sukuna’s face, but everyone just listens to Gojo. He has a weird sort of control over everyone. Even though he was a nerd, smart and perfect at every subject, every girl wanted to be with him and every guy wanted to be him.

You meet his eyes across the room and his face is thunderous. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, but he just looks away.

“Okay, my turn!” Shoko grins. There’s a cigarette in her mouth and you sigh at its presence.

The game is simple. Spin the bottle in the middle, and whoever it lands on gets asked a truth or dare. You had not been picked yet. It’s why you’re not paying much attention when the bottle lands on you. Shoko woops, and Sukuna nudges your shoulder.

“Lucky you.”

“Not lucky at all. Look at her face. I’m fucked.” You wince at the expression Shoko is pulling.

“Truth or dare.”

“Uhm. Truth?”

Sukuna boos. “Come on, be fun. Pick dare.”

You whine. “But she’s so mean.”

“Come on.” He drags out his syllables, and you groan.

“Okay fine, fine.”

“Good girl.” He murmurs. You flush slightly and he turns to the rest of your peers.

“She picks dare.” He holds your arm up in the air and you laugh.

Shoko pauses. Thinks. You see her glance at Gojo, just for a second, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest.

“I dare you. To have seven minutes in heaven. Or in seven minute in a pantry, whatever’s available.”

Oh, god.

“With Sukuna.”

Oh.

Cheers erupt from your friends. Someone whistles, and Sukuna just smiles. He offers you his hand, and you take it, a furious red covering your face. You see Gojo for one second before he leads you to his pantry, and he looks like he’s about to kill someone.

Maybe he feels the same way. Maybe. Why else would he be so angry?

Sukuna shuts the door, and you feel the awkwardness the second he does. You don’t know if you expect him to kiss you, or if he expects you to kiss him. You don’t really want to, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“So.” He says.

“Uh. I like your pantry.”

He pauses for a second. And then bursts out laughing. You cover your face with your hands, cursing Shoko under you breath.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I don’t know why she did this.” You groan.

“It’s cool. It’s because of Gojo, right?”

You pause. Other people were aware of your crush? You’d only just found out a couple minutes ago.

“I- What do you mean? What about him?”

“I mean, you like him, right? And he likes you”

“Really? Do you think so? That he likes me?”

Sukuna smiles at you again, and you’re suddenly very glad he wasn’t some dick who was going to try and force himself on you. You were surprised. He looked much meaner around school than he was being right now.

“Duh. He looked like he was gonna kill me just ‘cause we were talking. And i saw you guys in the kitchen getting all freaky.” He snorts at you embarrassed face.

“Okay, we weren't getting freaky. And also, i didn’t even realise I liked him until today.”

You're both leaning against opposite sides of the wall. You thump your head against it, groaning.

“I don’t know what to do. We spend every minute arguing, i don’t even know how I’d tell him”

Sukuna ponders it for a moment. “You wanna make him jealous?”

You probably shouldn’t. You’d seen the look on his face when you just spoke to Sukuna. If that look was actually aimed at you. You couldn’t be sure. It would be best to find out. Definitely the smartest, most logical solution.

“Okay. Sure. But, i don't think i want to-”

“Its okay.” Sukuna holds up a hand.

He ruffles a hand through his hair, and starts biting his lips. Oh. You get his drift, and do the same. You ruffle your own hair, smear the lipgloss on your lips across your face.

“Wait, come here.” You pull him towards you and press your glossy fingers to his chin.

Sukuna is cool. In another world, maybe you would’ve ended up with him.

The two of you collect yourself (or pretend to) and open the door. You find that the Truth or Dare circle has split, and everyone has split back into their groups. You search for Gojo, and you catch him across the room, staring at you. He looks at your messed up gloss, Sukuna’s ruffled hair. The muscle in his jaw clicks, and he turns away.

And then nothing.

Sukuna winces next to you. “Yikes. Sorry about that.”

“It's fine. Thanks for the help.” Sukuna nods once, then walks off.

God. You don’t know what you expected. For him to barge in and rip you and Sukuna apart, then kiss you? It was stupid. You were stupid to even think about acting on your stupid crush.

You decide to go outside to get some fresh air. You go out the front door, away from the backyard smokers. The sky is clear and it’s cold, but you can’t bring yourself to go back inside to get your coat. You just watch the stars and think about how the hell you’ll get over this.

Maybe let him beat you in a couple tests. He’ll get his ego boost and lose any expectations that you’d ever beat him again and leave you alone.

The door behind you opens and slams shut. You turn around, hands rubbing at the goosebumps on your arms. It’s Gojo.

“What the hell was that?”

He walks out and stands in front of you. This isn’t like before though. There’s no tension, just his anger.

“What- What are you on about, Gojo?”

He laughs, mirthless and sarcastic. “God, don’t give me that. You were practically throwing yourself at Sukuna the whole time we were in there.”

“I- There’s-“

“Touching his arm, fucking doing, I don’t know, whatever the hell you were doing in that closet.”

You cross your arms, frowning. “Whatever the hell I was doing in there is none of your concern.”

“It- God, you’re so difficult. Did you know that?”

You could hit him. Really just slap him across the face.

“Me? I’m the difficult one? I’m not the one pressing up against you in the middle of the kitchen and simultaneously tormenting you every day.”

“I don’t torment you.”

“Yes you do.”

Gojo takes a step closer to you. You want to take one back but you let the distance between you two get smaller.

“I torment you because you drive me mad.”

“Why? What do I do to drive you mad?” You say, voice carrying out into the empty front porch.

“You just do. God, it’s like you don’t know how fucking gorgeous you look all the time. When you’re working out a question and you bite your lip. How smart you are, almost as smart as me. The way you just challenge me all the time and it’s all I can do not to kiss you to get you to shut the fuck up.”

You mouth moves but no words come out.

“Yeah, just like that. Silent.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“And then you walk in here with the stupid dress. Your legs and your tits fucking glowing in the lights. And then you’re flirting with Geto and throwing yourself at Sukuna.”

He’s even closer now. Just like in the kitchen, except this time there’s no people searching for alcohol to interrupt you.

“And then you were in that pantry and I nearly broke the door down. And you walk out, and you have that expression on your face. Hair all messed up.” He runs his fingers through your hair.

“Your lip gloss all ruined.” He drags them over your lips. His thumb dips into your mouth and he lets out a shaky breath as your lips close around it.

“Hell, I could’ve fucked you right there.”

Before you can think about it, your hands curl into the collar of his shirt, and you pull him down and kiss him.

Gojo freezes for a second before he moans into your mouth. He returns the kiss with fervour, lips slotting against yours messily. Like everything the two of you do, you’re fighting. He pushes, you push harder. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. He grins against you, tongue licking against your teeth and your gums. He moves from your mouth to your jaw. The part where your neck meets your shoulder. He sucks marks onto your neck and they bloom onto your skin. You moan. Your hand card through his hair, and it’s just as soft as you always thought it’d be.

You moan his name, and he shakes his head.

“No. No, Satoru. Say it, say my name.”

“S-Satoru.” You whisper, and he shudders.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

He hikes one of your legs up by his waist. Your dress slips up your thighs and you feel the heat rising up your neck. He uses your free hand to grip at your chest, mouth still working its way down your body.

“God, you taste so good.” He says in between kisses.

“Shut up..” You breathe out, head thrown back against the wall.

He stops then. Gojo looks you in the eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Really? You want me to stop?”

You roll your eyes. “No, idiot. I want you to keep kissing me, I want you to stop talking.”

He hums under his breath. His lips are swollen and red, and he looks so good you reach forward for him again. But he stops you.

“No. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I don’t want to do that.” You say.

“Come on. Use that beautiful brain of yours.”

You sigh.

“Please.” Your voice is flat and he laughs.

“Ah, you can do better than that.”

You roll your eyes at his smug face. He’s got you pushed against a wall, dress hiked up your thighs, and he’s got the nerve to be asking you to ask for things.

“Please, Gojo, please oh please will you kiss me. Your lips are all I think about, all I dream about-“

He cuts off your rambling by fulfilling your wish. You moan into his mouth, your palms sliding down his chest. He pulls back slightly, kisses your jaw, then your chin.

“See. So much prettier when you just stop talking.” He tilts his head and you roll your eyes.

“Fuck off. I could say the same about you.”

He hums. His fingers trail down, down past your stomach and your thighs. They slip under your dress and your breath catches as he grins something devilish.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck the attitude out of you.”

——————————————————————

If you love enemies to lovers (specifically academic) PLEASE read all of Ann liangs books they r incredible!

#fluff #oneshot #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #sukuna x reader #mature #enemies to lovers #high school #highschool au #jealousy #gojo smut #gojo x y/n

170 notes · View notes

kdogreads · 8 months

Text

The Last to Know

Chibs Telford x f!reader

Part 2 of Very Soon, a continuation of the Chibs x reader origin story💕

Warnings: S M U T minors buzz off, marijuana use, mentions of alcohol, choking, slight dom/sub (but only a little), size kink, praise kink

Check out my masterlist for more Chibby content and follow #kdogreads to keep up with my self-indulgence 😉

It had been a few months since you first kissed Filip Telford and your life had flipped itself upside down in that time. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in a way that changed the way you spent every moment of your time.

Your life started dividing itself as before Chibs and after Chibs, like the damn second coming of Christ. After a 12-hour shift on your feet at St. Thomas, before Chibs, you’d go home and crash, sometimes not even making it your bed and sleeping on the couch for the night. After Chibs, though, you’d head straight over to the clubhouse, a change of clothes already there waiting for you, and a wave of energy somehow surging through your veins at the anticipation of seeing your man.

Tonight was one of those nights, fresh off an 11a to 11p shift and straight to the clubhouse. As you pulled into TM the sounds of a raging party filled your ears and you could see groups people standing around smoking, drinking, and dancing.

You made your way into the sea of leather, smiling and nodding at those who recognized you. It was Tig who greeted you first.

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” He gave you a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek, his breath smelled of cheap whiskey and weed, but it brought a smile to your face.

“Ready to party, Tiggy,” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, and he laughed his signature goofy laugh before pointing back towards the dorms where Chibs must have been waiting for you. You leaned in to peck him back on the cheek before heading that way.

Making your way to the dorm you’d spent many nights in, you passed Clay, Piney, Bobby, Gemma and several of the other guys who gave you smiles and wolf whistles. You did a silly little spin for them and were met with cheers and encouragements to “Give it to him!” Laughs echoed through the room as you rounded the corner to find your man.

Turning the knob and entering the dimly lit room, your eyes stumbled onto Filip seated at the small desk inside rolling a joint.

“Party’s out there, handsome,” You walked over and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Aye, but I’ve been waitin’ for my date ‘fore I make an appearance,” He joked and kissed your hands.

“I’m sorry, baby, last minute code kept me over,” You plead with a fake pout on your face.

“Ah, lass, I couldna be mad at you if I tried,” He turned in your arms to give you a long, sweet kiss.

You hummed in response, your lips melting happily into his for a long moment before pulling away to change out of your work clothes. Filip turned back to continue rolling a second joint, lighting one up after admiring his work.

It was only once you’d stripped down to just your bra and panties that Filip stood up and stepped towards you, bringing the burning joint to your lips. You took a long drag and felt only a slight sting. Filip always brought the good stuff out for you.

He took one step further into your space, reaching over your shoulder to stub the joint out on the dresser behind you and letting his rough hands glide down your bare skin. You shivered as he gripped one of your hips tightly and drew absent-minded circles on your lower back with the other. His lips danced from a sweet kiss on your forehead, your nose, your cheek before landing on your neck. God, the things he could do to you with such little effort.

“Baby,” You whine as best as you can, trying not to get lost in his kisses, “I’m sweaty and gross. Let me shower.”

Your words did little to slow him down as his free hand worked it’s way over the curve of your ass and squeezed hard. His thick fingers close enough to your aching heat to make a gasp escape your lips.

You tried whining his name this time, still feeling self-conscious about your post-work condition.

“I,” kiss, “dinna,” kiss, “care,” kiss, “lass,” kiss.

The way he punctuated each word with a wet, sloppy kiss to your neck and chest pushed every ounce of embarrassment out of your mind. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful lips as he made his way down your body, pausing only once he landed at the very top hem of your panties. He looked up at you once more for permission. You nodded and gripped his shoulder to keep from tumbling over as he jerked the lacy fabric down your legs all the way to your feet.

Filip couldn’t hold himself back once he was face-to-face with your glistening folds. A groan tumbled out of his chest as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder and nearly dove into you. Your back hit the dresser behind you with a thud and knocked a few things down onto the ground with a crash.

Neither of you could have been pulled out of this desire-fueled trance for anything. Anything.

Filip’s skilled tongue worked it’s way through your folds and over your pulsing clit. You cried out when he flicked his hot tongue over the bundle of nerves just right and sent your thighs squeezing together.

With a grunt he yanked them apart again and slapped one thigh sharply. A warning not to do that again.

You felt the familiar pressure building deep in your belly right as Filip slid a thick finger into your weeping hole, curling it just the way you needed. It was only a few more flicks of his tongue until you fell apart. A broken string of curse words falling from your lips as the white hotness of the intense orgasm washed over you. He worked you through your high — not stopping until you a trembling mess, panting and clawing at his hair to drag his face back up to yours.

He stood up, holding tightly onto your reeling body, and met your gaze. A devilish smirk spread across his glistening lips as he reached down to grab your shaking thighs and pick you up.

Your eyes fell shut as he laid you gently onto the dark cotton sheets of his bed. You felt him pull back swiftly to pull his shirt over his head and step out of his straining jeans.

“My poor girl,” He cooed in that quiet tone you’d come to love, “Fucked dumb already, hm?”

Your eyes snapped open at his teasing and you were met with a dark look of lust in his eyes. It only spurred you on and sent a new wave of heat straight down to your core.

“Not even close, Telford,” You spat back, quickly sliding a hand between you and grasping his hard cock in a firm hold.

“Aye, ah,” You began stroking him though his boxers, a grunt escaping his lips as he tried to keep his composure, “I see not, lass.”

He leaned in close to kiss you and you took your shot, yanking Filip’s body down beside you, allowing you the room to climb on top of him and straddle his aching cock.

An amused grin spread across his face as you leaned in to leave wet kisses on his neck and chest, lewd noises spilling from his lips all the while. You slowly made your way down his body, kisses turning into love bites here and there.

He lifted his hips slightly to begin to tug his boxers off when an idea popped into your head and out of your mouth before you had the chance to second guess it.

One of your hands gripped his wrist while the other wrapped around Filip’s throat, your slender fingers doing their best to squeeze even a little bit.

“I’ll see to that, love,” You purred into his ear, an excited mumble tumbling out of his mouth. He grinned at you a moment longer, this new side of you driving him wild.

You used all your effort to give his wrist and his neck an extra squeeze, showing him you meant business.

“Yes ma’am,” He growls, his free hand coming up in surrender. You loosened your grip on him and sat up straight, his hard cock pressing deliciously into your aching core.

You reached around your back to unhook your black lacy bra and slide it off, Filip’s mouth opening at the sight your taut nipples. He reached up to take of your mesmerizing peaks into his grasp, but you smacked his hand away, not yet done with your little game.

A sharp, “uh-uh” came from your lips and Filip groaned in frustration, but slides his hands away like you said.

Using your teeth for the first few inches, you peeled his black boxers down his thighs, slowly at first. His throbbing cock sprung free, the swollen tip already leaking an inviting drop of precum. The sight made your mouth water and you decided to stop the teasing.

You yanked them the rest of the way down and discarded them on the floor with your clothes. You wasted no time licking a long stripe down Filip’s cock then taking his head between your lips.

A deep grown rumbled out of his chest as you wrapped your lips around him and took as much as you could into your mouth, your hand making up for what your throat couldn’t reach.

Before long, Filip tangled his fingers into your hair and guided your movements, his willpower no longer strong enough to keep his hands off you. Your head bobbed up and down at a leisurely pace, Filip’s cock gagging you when he pushed your head all the way down. He relaxed his grip and you released his head with a pop before licking your lips and smiling up at him.

He furrowed his brow slightly before his hand swung from your hair down to your neck, pulling you up by the throat to his face.

You whined as he took your lips in his, sucking your bottom lip out in your favorite way. You felt his swollen tip swirling around your dripping hole.

“You had your fun, kitten,” He growled into your lips, his head sliding into your center, “Now I’ll have mine.”

You gasped as he sank all the way into your tight hole, he held you there a moment before he pulled back out and slammed into you again.

Your mind spun as he plowed into you over and over, one hand on your hip lifting your tired body up, the other sliding down from your throat and straight to a hard nipple that he rolled between his fingers.

The familiar pressure built deep in your tummy as Filip held your hips firmly against his and worked your core forwards and back. The friction against your clit and the way his cock felt nudging against the deepest parts of your velvety walls drew your release closer and closer.

“So, fuck, so fuckin’ big, Filip,” You panted nonsensically, a mind-fogging pleasure taking over your senses, “Please—please, baby, don’t stop, ah!”

A slew of groans that sounded almost pained spilled from Filip’s mouth as your release flooded through your veins. You fell into his strong arms as he kept pounding into you, your core fluttering around his throbbing cock. Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head as Filip growled into your ear, prolonging your rolling pleasure.

“Tha’s it, pretty girl. Cummin’ all over my cock like a filthy whore,” His accent grew even stronger as he tried desperately to hold back his own release, still rutting his hips into yours as pleasant aftershocks coursed through your body, “My good lass, takin’ what I give ye.”

You had barely a moment to recover before Filip was flipping you over and throwing one your legs over his shoulder, sliding his aching cock back into your dripping hole.

Not yet satisfied, even with your blissed-out face contorting in over-sensitive and mind-numbing pleasure, Filip reached down to the place where your bodies connected and brushed this thumb roughly against your clit.

A sharp hiss escaped your parted lips, “F-Filip I ca-n’t, s’too much.”

“Shh, lass, jus’ one more,” He continued the bruising pace of his cock sliding in and out of you, fingers circling quickly over your throbbing clit, “Let me fuckin’ feel you one more time.”

It hit you like a fucking train out of nowhere, a muffled scream fell from your lips as the all-consuming pleasure invaded your senses. Your thighs shook against Filip’s hips as your fingers clawed at his broad chest, desperate for something to ground you.

Filip’s head fell back, his lips parted as his own release rushed through his body. Hot ropes of his cum flooded your pulsing walls as he slurred out a string of curses and praises.

“Fuckin’ love this tight fucking pussy; my good lass, fuck-fuckin’ gorgeous when ye cum on m’cock like tha’.”

Your eyes met as you both started coming down from the high. You reached for Filip’s face and pulled him down to kiss you, hissing into his mouth as he pulled out of you slowly and placed two fingers on your tired pussy, anxiously wanting to feel his seed weeping out of you.

You gasped at the contact and bucked your hips into his thick fingers. He huffed a laugh onto your connected lips and withdrew his wet fingers from you, bringing them up to your lips and pressing softly into your mouth.

Both of you laughed lowly as he rolled off of you and pulled you into his still-pounding chest. He kissed your forehead as you snuggled into his embrace.

“We’re awfully good at tha’, huh lass?” A soft laugh rumbling from his chest.

You laughed sweetly as looked up at him, “Yeah, yes we are.”

It was a brief moment of peace, wrapped up in each other’s arms and post-sex bliss before a pounding fist at the door interrupted your rest.

“Chibby! Dove! Wrap it up. Need ya’s out here,” A booming voice followed the knock. You couldn’t make out who it was but, based on the angry Gaelic phrase Filip spat back, he must have known right away.

“Boys got into it, bleedin’ all about the place,” The voice boomed back and Filip let out a groan.

The knock returned briefly before Filip was shouting back, “Christ, two minutes for me to put my cock away!”

You let out a chuckle as the the floor squeaked outside, granting you the moment you needed to put yourselves back together.

“Always something, hm?” You quipped as Filip stood and gathered his clothes before tossing you some shorts and one of his t-shirts.

“Aye, always somethin’ to shite on our day,” He groaned and brushed his fingers through his hair.

You took a moment to stretch while Filip already had his hand on the door knob, ready to handle whatever was awaiting him outside. Before he could open it, a thought popped into your mind.

“Filip?” You sat up a bit, “Am I your old lady?”

He laughed lovingly before stepping back over to your side.

“Seems yer the last to know, love,” He smiled and placed a tender kiss to your lips before turning back towards the door and heading out into the madness.

Oh boy, you are in trouble.

#kdogreads #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford #chibs imagine #chibs x reader #chibs telford smut #chibs smut #soa chibs #chibs telford fanfiction #chibs fluff #chibs telford imagine #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa

333 notes · View notes

lucky-bucky-boy · 8 months

Note

a smutty night out with Bucky? Maybe a bar or movie theater

Tw: implied smut, skin marking (hickies), alcohol consumption

The bass of the music playing over the speakers vibrated the graffiti covered walls of the small bathroom, the woodsy smell of bourbon mixing with the rich piney musk of Bucky’s cologne; it was hard to tell which scent was more intoxicating. Bucky's broad figure made the small space feel even smaller, dark hair pulled back into a bun and the dim lighting making his already darkening ocean eye's seem more intense.

Bucky's metal hand held the back of your neck, keeping it angled as he begin to attack your neck, a small groan leaving his lips at the taste of your skin. His lips and teeth moved quickly, sucking and nibbling the sensitive skin and pulling whimpers from your lips. His other hand played with the hem of your shift, fingers grazing the soft skin of your hip, a quick indication of just exactly what he wanted.

"Bucky," his name fell from your lips like a pray, your hand ignoring the hair tie of yours he had in as you carded your fingers through the root of his hair, "Baby, what if people realize wh-"

"Don't care," his voice was gruff as it vibrated against your skin, "We'll be quick," he offered, only half trying to ease your surface level concern.

"We're never quick," you quipped back, "and we're loud." Your grip on his hair couldn't decide if it was pulling him closer or off.

"Fine," his voice was nearly a whine as he pulled. The whine that left your lips at the loss of his touch made him chuckle, "You sound so needy, pretty girl." He teased, "I could so easily bend you over right here, give you exactly what you need." His voice was smooth like honey, and so incredibly tempting.

"Bucky," you huffed out softly, tugging at hid hair and relishing in the small moan he gave in return as his eyes fluttered shut, "our place is a 5 minute walk. Take. Me. Home."

His eyes shot open, nearly as dark as the night sky at this point, "Gladly, doll."

#bucky barnes #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky drabble #bucky barnes drabble #marvel x reader #marvel smut #marvel drabble #ask #jaz answers #bucky barnes x reader

257 notes · View notes

infinite-orangepeel · 1 year

Note

Steddie accidental voyeurism and ‘Steve owes Jonathan Byers an apology because if he had a camera he’d also be tempted to immortalize Eddie in this moment for future reference’

hi anon !! omg i’m in love with this prompt 💛 thank you so much for the submission, hope you enjoy :)

warnings: this one is heavy on the perv!eddie in the beginning so if that’s not your thing, feel free to skip, accidental voyeurism, frotting

eddie knows he’s all types of fucked up for this. he knows there’s a sick place in hell for guys like him.

steve’s his roommate, his supposed ‘best friend,’ the guy who saved him from imminent death in an alternate dimension.

yet here he is—jerking himself off with steve’s favorite pair of gym shorts clutched between his dick and his fist. thrusting and dirty talking his way to the finish line as if his best friend can actually hear him:

“you’re such a cocktease, stevie. always bending over right in front of me in those tight little outfits. just love to whore yourself out for my attention, don’t you?”

“does your girlfriend know how desperate you are for my cock? does she know how dumb you get when i choke you on it?”

“so beautiful, baby. so goddamn beautiful. gonna paint your pretty face with my cum. stay still. be good and take it, baby. let me fuck you right.”

he’s wearing Steve’s cologne—doused himself in the piney scent to enhance the sensory experience. he’s got a spread of stolen polaroids laid out in front of him.

a glorious mixture of cutesy and depraved pictures that steve’s ‘girlfriend’ of the month has taken of him (pictures that she finds mysteriously missing from her wallet whenever she comes over and eddie’s home).

eddie’s gazing at his three favorites as he works himself over—a close-up of steve’s blurry tits, steve smiling with his tongue poking out between his teeth, and steve eating pussy like it’s his last fucking meal on death row.

everything about that boy—correction: his boy—is perfect.

none of the girls he brings home deserve him. he’s pure gold, the sun personified, rare.

eddie watches them. observes the ways they take advantage of his kindness. the little jabs they make at his intelligence. the quipped commentary surrounding their exits. it boils his blood, makes his skin burn, and if steve was his? he’d never let him forget how loved he is. he’d treasure him, keep him safe, worship him up and down.

it doesn’t matter. it can’t matter, because there’s nothing eddie can do to force steve to feel the same way.

he understands that. he’s not delusional. but, he has to do something about it. he has to cope with this insatiable itch somehow.

so, while steve’s at work, eddie sneaks into his best friend’s bedroom and rolls around in his sheets.

he gets stupidly high off of it, doesn’t need a joint to do the trick.

he rubs his cock over his pillow and smiles with pure love while he does it.

he digs through steve’s hamper and finds his gym clothes from that morning—still ripe with natural musk, sweat, and salt. eddie buries his face in them. licks over the crotch. fingers himself with his ass pointed skyward, head in the sand—drowning in steve’s pretty filth. crying out and letting his unfiltered desire flood the room.

and if he’s really lucky, like today, he’ll find an old sock that steve’s used to wipe himself clean after fucking one of those careless girls. dried with wasted cum because steve’s a good boy who pulls out and never cums inside one of his hook-ups.

meanwhile, eddie dreams of cumming inside him with the gross, used cotton pressed to his lips. he loves to suckle on the fabric. pretends he’s eating steve out after pumping him full. it’s nasty and bitter and all he thinks about. can’t get enough of steve on his tongue.

“want you to sit on my face, stevie. don’t be afraid, love. you won’t hurt me. i’ll take such good care of you. don’t even need to breathe. just need to taste you,” he babbles to himself and tightens his grip, “that’s it. want you to squeeze me between your pretty thighs. so fucking perfect. jesus.”

eddie’s moments away from blowing his load when steve rounds the corner and saunters on into his bedroom. home hours early from work without any warning.

“hey man! thought i heard you in here. powers out at family video and—”

he stops in his tracks. mouth gaping wide open.

“fuck. fuck. steve,” eddie’s stuck in place like a deer in headlights. dick fully erect and leaking onto his best friend’s shorts which are still in his hand, “im so sorry. i—let me get dressed and i’ll—um—i’ll leave—”

steve approaches eddie with a curious look on his face and pink coloring his cheeks. his chest rises and falls slowly and there’s a dazed look behind his eyes. he licks over his lips once and reaches a hand out. so close, he’s almost touching eddie’s cock which doesn’t make any sense because—

“let me,” he nods emphatically and eddie realizes they’re both shaking from something other than fear, “please.”

“steve. you don’t have to. you shouldn’t. i’m—i’m the one who fucked up,” eddie says unconvincingly, because all he wants is to continue basking in the wonder of this absurd fever dream.

“eds,” steve shivers visibly and shoves down the waistband of his sweatpants to reveal his dick. “i’m so fucking hard. can i—i wanna make you feel good—make us feel good.”

eddie pinches his own arm.

he’s waiting for steve to snap out of it. he’s convinced the guy is drugged or hallucinating or both. but, then, he leans closer and ghosts his lips over the corner of eddie’s open mouth. flicks his tongue and runs it over his bottom lip.

“please. let me give you the real thing.”

“okay,” eddie agrees, as steve takes them both into one hand with obvious urgency, “anything—you can have anything you want.”

steve winks at him, ducks down to kiss his throat, and releases a weak sigh into eddie’s neck as he watches his huge hand encompass both of their dicks.

the spread of shared precum eases the sticky drag of skin on skin and creates the perfect balance of friction. steve’s cock is wider than eddie’s. it’s pinker, too. but eddie grins happily at the few inches of length he has on his friend.

“y—you don’t care that i was being a creep?” eddie moans, knowing he won’t last long. fuck steve’s even prettier this close up, “why don’t you care?”

steve pumps them faster. his hips are bumping into eddie’s as he thrusts harder. moans dripping from his throat like honey.

“because i’ve been trying to get you to fuck me for the past year and a half,” steve uses his other hand to push eddie’s head forward and kisses him fully which sends him to the goddamn moon and back.

they lick behind teeth, tangle tongues, swallow groans and filthy words.

steve bites eddie’s lip and eddie does it right back.

they mirror each other in the strangest and most stunning way—nothing and everything alike.

eddie’s hands are kneading the meat of steve’s ass. he grazes a finger over his boy’s hole and revels in the sharp gasp it coaxes out of him.

“do that again,” steve groans and eddie obliges, “no one’s ever touched me there. feels so good.”

steve is going to be the death of him. steve’s going to kill him and eddie’s going to smile the whole way through.

“steve—i’m a fucking freak,” eddie pulls away to admit as he nibbles on steve’s ears and pumps the tip of his pointer finger into his ass, “i’ve been sneaking into your room and stealing polaroids from—”

steve bites him on the shoulder to demand silence and leaves the gorgeous imprint of his teeth. eddie whines and folds instantly, breathing heavily.

“and i jerk off with your rings on whenever you go to band practice so shut the fuck up and cum for me,” steve slams their lips back together and at the sound of his words and ridiculous confession, eddie cums harder than he ever has in his entire fucking life. a minute later, steve follows suit.

later, after a quick nap in the mess they’ve made, steve wakes eddie up with his mouth stretched around his cock and whispers, “it’s time for round two, baby. go get your rings. we’re trying something.”

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1, @disastardly, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @the-redthread, @asbealthgn, @bestofbucky, @vampireinthesun, @carlyv, @shrimply-a-menace, @lordrrascal, @jjoesjonas, @malachitedevil, @anxiouseds, @feraleddiekinninghours, @gay-little-bitch, @jhrc666, @pinkdaisies1998, @mcneen, @perseus-notjackson, @eiddets, @corroded-coffin-groupie, @three-possums-playing-human, @stevesbipanic, @plutoshelm, @arkenstoned, @indiearr

427 notes · View notes

juancarlos-ortiz · 1 month

Text

Denial - Juice Ortiz x Reader One Shot

A/N: A quick little one shot for Juicy pants - something sweeter this time! I am still working on Marked for Carnage but my life is a little hectic right now. Fingers crossed, next week the next chapter will be up. Please feel free to request a one shot if you wish! I will write for almost anyone from SOA.

Warnings: alcohol, swearing, mentions of sex (off page), kissing, smoking

Word Count: 1466 words

You bopped your head along to the music as you pulled the bottle opener from your back pocket, popping the tops off the beers in front of you. "Here you go, guys," you said, placing them on the bar in front of Tig and Chibs. "Thank you, sweetheart," Tig tipped his bottle your way whilst Chibs gave you a nod. You moved down the bar, serving members and the sweetbutts that hung off them. You had been working the bar for SAMCRO parties for many months now after your friend had begged you to tag along one night after they were down a person. You reluctantly agreed, having heard stories from other girls you knew were croweaters about how rowdy the parties could be and handsy the guys were. But surprisingly it had been a fun night and any guys that did try to hit on you, actually seemed to take no for an answer.

No, there was only one guy in this building you would want putting his hands on you. And he currently made his way to the bar, his eyes meeting yours and a smirk on his face. "What can I get ya, Juice?" you asked, already knowing his answer as you reached down into the fridge below the bar to grab a beer. "Beer please, beautiful," he winked, causing your skin to prickle with heat. Ignoring him, you popped the top and handed it over. He took a long sip and you watched the column of his throat dip as he swallowed, your blood rushing to your core and heart beginning to thump harder. He put his beer on the bar and smiled, aware of just how much he affected you. Crossing his forearms against the wood he lent in. "Busy tonight, sweetness?" he asked. You rolled your eyes, flicking the dishcloth over your shoulder out to lightly snap his arm. "Always busy, sweetness," you mocked before moving on to fulfill another order.

Juice stayed at the bar, watching as you moved around, taking orders, making people laugh, smoothly moving in between the other girls and the Prospects who were also working. He was playing it cool, but in reality his palms were drenched with sweat and his stomach was alive with butterflies. He could stand and watch you all night long, no croweater or pool game even a lick of competition to you. He felt someone elbow his side. Turning to face Chibs, he nodded in greeting. "A little distracted tonigh', aren't ye Juicy?" his brother asked. Juice just shrugged and had another long sip of his beer. "Been a long week, kinda tired," he lilted, trying unsuccessfully to pull his eyes from you. You passed a straw over to Piney with a laugh and shake of your head before you were heading back over to him, the sway in your hips and crook of your mouth making his pants suddenly tighter.

"You want another one?" you asked, tossing the dishcloth over your shoulder again. "I'll take whatever you want to give me," he prompted, causing your mouth to open. Juice was never usually this flirty at parties. You heard a scoff from a few seats down. "Would you two just hurry up and fuck already?!" Tig challenged, putting a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. Chibs began to laugh into his drink. You huffed and crossed your arms. "What the hell are you talking about, Tiggy?" you sassed, lifting up their drinks and giving the table a wipe down. "You two," Tig motioned his beer to point between you and Juice. "The undressing with the eyes, the flirting…. It's painful," he blinked slowly. "Just do us all a favour and fuck each other." You let out a short laugh, your nerves setting in. What Tig didn’t know was that you and Juice had already had a roll in the sheets. Many… many… many… rolls in the sheets.

But it wasn't something you had made public purely because it was casual and you didn’t want to be seen as someone that any of the guys could have. Juice had agreed because he was fine with upkeeping his bachelor status with his brothers. You weren't exclusive but you certainly had not been with anyone else. You were unsure about Juice, and honestly you didn’t want to ask, but you were both being careful and it was just a bit of fun. But the last few times it had happened it had felt a little more than casual to you. It always happened at your place, usually after a SAMCRO party. The first few times Juice would usually leave pretty quickly after - which had been fine with you - but now he had made the choice to stay the night and usually for breakfast. Which meant you got to talk more, which in turn meant you got to know him better. And that had sparked some unexpected and intense feelings pretty quickly. You had been ignoring them because it seemed like Juice was on the casual train still and you didn’t want to fuck up what you guys had going.

"There is no undressing with the eyes, and Juice flirts with everyone," you shrugged, holding your hands out to lean against the bar. "Yeah right, and I'm the King of England," Tig rolled his eyes. "Can you believe the denial we're hearing right now?" he asked Chibs. "Ye better make a move soon though, swee'heart," Chibs chimed in. "If you don’t make a claim, someone else will." He and Tig got off their stools and moved over to the chairs where Bobby was lounging with a sweetbutt in his lap. You laughed humourlessly, before turning to move away. A hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. You looked up at Juice. "He was just kidding," he said, a forced smile on his face. You nodded and tried to smile back, shrugging your shoulders. "It's fine, Juice," you tried to step away but he held his grip. "You know there's no one else, right?" he asked, his wide brown eyes searching yours. "So what if there was?" you asked. Juice shook his head, gently pulling your arm so you would step back closer to him.

"I'm telling you, right now, there is no one else," he was dead serious, dragging his hand down your arm to lightly grasp your hand, giving you enough freedom to pull out of his grip if you wanted. "What are you doing, Juice?" you asked, looking over your shoulder to make sure the other girls were getting the drinks served. "You have to have noticed that things have been different," he pondered. "Like, a good kind of different." You swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. "I have but…" you lick your lips, Juice's eyes dropping to track the movement. "I didn’t think you did. Or that it's what you would want to be happening." Juice smiled. "You," he ran his thumb over the tops of your knuckles. "Are the only one I want to be going with. Going home to," he confessed. You blinked rapidly. "Is that ok with you?" he asked. You smiled nervously, narrowing your eyes. "It's definitely ok with me, but are you sure?" you asked apprehensively. He tugged on your hand lightly. "Come here, baby. Stake your claim," he stepped back and gestured towards himself. You chuckled, shaking your head, still unsure if this was real or some kind of cruel joke.

Stepping around the bar, you walked to him nervously. When you were close enough, Juice reached out to grasp your waist, pulling you into him quickly. You laughed, colliding with his chest. Grasping the lapels of his cut you tried to ignore the feeling of surprised eyes on you. "You're sure about this?" you ask again, making Juice sigh. "Positive," he said, squeezing your sides teasingly. "No more sweetbutts," you remind him. "And I know that you have that run clause thing but that shit doesn’t sit right with me either," you admit to him. "Baby," he tilts his head, eyes never leaving yours. "I haven’t been with any sweetbutts for months. Ask the other guys. The first time you dragged me through your front door and threw me down on your bed was it for me. There's been no one else. And won’t be. I don’t give a shit about the run clause." You smiled softly, heart warm with his confession. "Well in that case," you pulled him by his cut to meet you in a searing kiss, smiling at Juice's surprised sigh while his hands moved down to slip into your back pockets. "Atta boy, Juicy!" you heard Tig shout. Bobby cursed as he fished into his pocket, pulling out two $10 notes and handing one each to Tig and Chibs.

#soa #sons of anarchy #juice soa #juan carlos juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fic #juice ortiz oneshot #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x reader #juice x reader

60 notes · View notes