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#whenever he got inebriated
colbertmmunist · 2 years
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thinking about how fucking ass backwards society is going is making me want to throw up
#abortion rights getting revoked and having open season on domestic violence victims as long as their abuser is your fave actor#younger people think they’re above misinformation yet they were all buying into fake news from tiktok and YouTube abt That trial#they are no better than boomers with facebook#it really is horrifying how people will just pull something from a rape testimony and make jokes out of it#whenever you actually look at the facts of That case it’s so clear he initiated it and she reacted after YEARS of taking it#his shit is so easily disproveable and yet people just eat his lies up anyway because he was hot and le funny pirate man#i can’t even be safe from the bullshit on my fucking game#im genuinely going insane from how fucked up this is#2022 and you get flayed alive for pointing out that DARVO exists and even your beloved actors are capable of using it#it’s too depressing to put into words#people would really rather believe that a woman would paint on bruises and concoct an elaborate years-long story#than that a man who was twice her age... a man with known substance abuse issues and a history of violence... would beat his wife#whenever he got inebriated#just conveniently excusing his teeheeing with his little friend about the idea of murdering her and raping the corpse#YEARS BEFORE HIS ALLEGATIONS OF ANY ABUSE FROM HER MIND YOU#just conveniently excusing his defense of roman polanski and his close friendship with marilyn manson and allen ginsberg (outspoken pedo)#allen ginsberg was a NAMBLA advocate and openly talked about wanting to normalize raping little boys#and everybody’s favorite pirate man was just buddy buddy with him and hanging out at his house#and you point this out to his stans and they just don’t fucking care#it goes on and on#I could rant about this for eternity#faith in humanity = nonexistent
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xiaowhore · 4 months
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intoxicating.
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premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.
somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.
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Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.
He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.
Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.
Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.
However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.
At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.
Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.
“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”
So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.
“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”
Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”
“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”
You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”
Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”
You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”
“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.
For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”
He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”
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“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”
“...No?”
“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”
“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”
“Is it working?”
Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.
“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.
“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”
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When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.
But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.
“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-
Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.
“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.
“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.
“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.
The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”
You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.
“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”
“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”
“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.
He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”
Just what on earth did you do last night...?
???
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jkbabiey · 2 months
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ᴍɪɴᴇ • ᴊ. ᴊᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴ
𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: ~4.6𝘒 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘧𝘸𝘣2𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘱𝘪𝘷, 𝘖𝘊 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦 '𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭'
it didn't surprise you when jaehyun's name popped up on your screen.
you two weren't speaking. hadn't spoken at all in the last three weeks due to a less-than-kind exchange of words at the last frat party you had gone to.
that frat party happened in the frat house in which jaehyun lived. you were no stranger to these parties. were no stranger to the smoke, the music, and the lights. you attended most of these parties, your goal being only one - to see him.
and you always did. his eyes always caught yours the minute you stepped inside his house. even among everyone else's gaze, his was always the first one that you noticed.
you and jaehyun had met at uni. you still remember the repetitive sound of his fingers tapping the table next to yours, while you tried to focus on the physiology paper you had to turn in until the next day. jaehyun was incredibly annoying, not stopping even when you politely asked him to, which resulted in you picking up your stuff and leaving the library and jaehyun with a victorious smile on his face. just to find him at the frat party your friend had dragged you to, sporting that same smile.
just to end up in his room. naked and screaming his name.
you always ended up in jaehyun's room. since then frat parties had become a constant in your life - you never stayed in them for too long because jaehyun always managed to drag you away quick enough.
the deal between you two was fairly simple - you slept together. nothing more and nothing less.
there really wasn't anything more to it other than sex. and you never expected more, seeing as the first thing you learned about jaehyun was how unruly he was - the complete opposite of you, the straight-A princess (as he liked to call you).
but you two were used to each other at this point - no one seemed to satisfy jaehyun the way you knew how to and because of that he liked to keep you around.
no one did it for you the way jaehyun could. not only when it came to sex, but in everything else too. you genuinely had a good time whenever you were with him, despite him taking every chance to get on your nerves. you two just got along.
but still, three weeks ago, at one of the frat parties you used to attend, you ended up in mark's room.
you would've never chosen mark over jaehyun. especially because the sole reason you were coming to these parties was to see jaehyun.
but not to see jaehyun's mouth working against a random blonde girl you had never even seen before. they were sitting on a couch, smoke all around them and she was straddling his hips, sitting on his lap. jaehyun's arms were rolled around the girl's waist, pulling her closer. meanwhile, you stood with your back pressed against the wall on the opposite side of the room, head tilted back while mark, who stood by your side, talked your ear off about this awesome new shot mixture he had made up with johnny, trying to talk you into trying it out.
it didn't take long to say yes to that shot (and to the countless shots mark and johnny offered after the first one) after that sight.
after that, you went dancing with mark behind you, absolutely inebriated, and no longer than five minutes after you started making out in the middle of the living room. it didn't shock you a whole lot when you woke up the morning after in a room you weren't familiar with, soft snores coming from beside you that didn't really sound like jaehyun's.
you were light on your feet as you picked up your tight black dress from the floor, squeezing yourself into it, grabbed your heels and walked barefoot out of mark's room, closing the door behind you softly, successfully not waking him up. your way down the stairs was a challenge as the wood squeaked with every step you took. you reached the end of the stairs, thinking you had succeded as no one seemed to have woken up, letting out a soft sigh and running a hand through your messy curls.
"had fun last night?" you heard from the kitchen, just a few steps away. you couldn't see who was inside the kitchen but you could recognize his voice anywhere. you took light steps towards the kitchen door, stopping when jaehyun came to view. you leaned to the side, resting your left hip on the wooden doorframe.
jaehyun looked like he had just stumbled out of bed. he was in the kitchen with a mug full of coffee in his hand, wearing an oversized black t-shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. his hair was messy, and his glasses were on. "yeah," you answered, your voice still heavy with sleep.
"was he any good?" jaehyun asked, and your brows immediately furrowed at his question. he chuckled at your reaction and pressured you, raising his brows in question. his voice had a playful light-hearted tone, but you knew him well enough to sense the hint of aggressiveness underlying it. "was he?"
"yes, he was good," you said and watched jaehyun's head tilt slightly in indifference. "better than you,” you added at that, loud and clear, letting your tongue quickly wet your lips in excitement.
jaehyun had always been the cool, calm, and collected guy who was never bothered by anything. and it stressed you out.
how could you be so indifferent to him?
but one thing jaehyun was, was competitive. both you and jaehyun knew that. jaehyun had a competitive side to him that few people dared to cross. but you... you did it all the time. because it was the only way to get a reaction out of him.
he raised his eyebrows in surprise and let out a giggle - you amused him.
“oh yeah?”
“yeah.”
“well… it doesn’t really take a lot to satisfy you, so i won’t really trust your judgment,” he said, placing his cup of coffee on the marble countertop. he walked to the fridge taking out a box of washed strawberries. he extended the box towards you as if asking if you wanted some, and you let out an ironic chuckle at that.
“and even tho it doesn’t take a lot to satisfy me you’re still at the bottom of the list,” you fought back and jaehyun smiled your way, resting his forearms on the countertop, taking a red strawberry to his lips and biting into it.
“hum,” he hummed as he chewed, wet lips and eyes still fixed on yours, absolutely unbothered, as if your comments didn't faze him in the slightest. “it’s long, that list of yours, isn’t it?”
your breath was quick and heavy in anger, your hands fisted and your jaw clenched. jaehyun knew how to get to you. he knew how to hit you where it stung and he never, ever, hesitated in doing it. never afraid of hurting you.
“i’m leaving,” you muttered, immediately turning your back to him and walking to the door.
“not saying bye to mark?” you heard him ask in a slightly louder voice, followed by a mocking chuckle.
“fucking asshole,” you said back, hoping he’d still hear you, which he did given by the amused laugh he let out after your comment.
three weeks had passed and now here you stood, in the middle of your skincare routine with jaehyun’s name plastered on your screen as he called you at 11:30PM. you didn’t even bother picking up, knowing he’d find another way to contact you.
jaehyun: stop ignoring me
jaehyun: saw your ig
by that, he meant the instagram story you had posted, which was not that special - just you, lying down on your silky pillow, makeup and hair done.
jaehyun: cmon pick up babe
by the time he called you for a second time you had a random vinyl playing, your favorite pink little pajama set thrown on, your curls down, your skin glowing, and your lips glossed. jaehyun was coming over.
you picked up. “can i come over?” was the first thing he said.
“why would i let you come over?”
“we both know you miss me,” he said immediately to which you let out a snort. “you don't? be honest y/n” he asked and you could already hear the teasing smile in his voice.
“are you sure it’s not the other way around?”
“as in me missing you?”
you hummed and he stayed quiet for a while “nope, you just looked cute in your story.”
“yeah right. you can go find some other cute girl then,” you said.
"no one's as cute as you-" and you hung up on him.
ten minutes later your doorbell rang and you knew it was him. you opened the door, greeting jaehyun with an annoyed expression. “i told you not to come over.”
“you still mad at me?” he asked, as his eyes ran over your figure. bare legs and perky nipples on display for him - small and delicate, just the way he likes you.
“was never mad. i don’t get mad at you jaehyun, you’re not that important,” you deadpanned, left brow raised.
“yeah, right,” he hummed and took a few steps forward, coming closer to you and closing the door behind him. he didn’t say a word, just staring down at you as you crossed your arms in front of your chest defensively, while starring back at him.
jaehyund sighed when a minute passed, and you did not look away. a teasing smirk grew on his lips, as he buried his hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants. “why did you sleep with mark when I was right there?” he said, phrasing the question as if he had been waiting for you to answer it for the past three weeks - almost tiredly, letting out a short breath at the end of it.
“he was also right there,” you shrugged, settled on not telling him that what had really worked you up that night had been his interest in that other girl.
he rolled his eyes in annoyance, and you almost squealed at the sight of jaehyun losing his temper. “c’mon y/n, don’t make me lose my patience with you.”
“maybe that’s what I want,” you teased, raising your head, nearing your face to his to look into his eyes, almost daring him to do something. “you get so fucking boring after a few weeks, jaehyun.” you whispered against jaehyun’s mouth, watching as his tongue poked the inside of his cheek in annoyance. “that whole calm and collected thing you have going on,” you gestured with your hands before placing your pointing finger against the center of his chest. “it gets fucking tedious. that’s why I slept with mark. at least I can see some actual desire in his face.”
jaehyun’s anger was almost pouring out of his eyes. you could see that if he could just pick you up and throw you out the window, he absolutely would. instead, he grabbed your jaw in a tight grip, pulling your face even closer to his. “you don't think I desire you, that’s it?” he asked, an almost sadistic grin growing on his face.
when you slowly nodded your head against his grip, his hands moved to tightly grab both your shoulders, throwing your body against the wall across from him. “gonna show you just how much I want you, then."
and then, his lips were on yours, relentlessly working against them. his tongue parted your lips, invading your mouth as you moaned against him. his hand tightly gripped your ass, signaling for you to jump to his lap, which you did. your legs immediately wrapping around jaehyun's waist, with his hand still squeezing your ass. he pressed your body against the wall, rutting his hips against your clothed core, his mouth still fast and almost aggressive against yours.
you couldn’t keep up. you could never keep up with jaehyun.
“what was it about him that you liked so much, hum?” he asked, heavy breath and ironic tone of voice, while still humping his hips against yours in quick motions, almost desperately. “did he cry? he looks like he’d cry.”
“he could cry and still be better than you,” you moaned and jaehyun laughed at how your body’s reactions to him were so opposite to what your mouth was saying. “feels like I’m fucking a corpse with you,” he let out a burst of genuine laughter at that, and you couldn’t help the affectionate smile that grew on your lips at the sound.
“that’s taking it a bit too far isn’t it, princess?” he asked, and you looked down at him.
“is it tho?” he rolled his eyes, moving one of his arms to your waist to carry you to your bedroom. he had been in your flat so many times that he knew where everything was - even his spot on your bed was already defined (he slept closer to the door).
jaehyun laid your body down under his and stopped to awe at your figure, your face all flushed, long curls perfectly laid out on your mattress. lotioned skin shining under the yellow light of your bedroom, body pliable to his touch when he moved a hand to your knees to spread your legs further. he could feel his heartbeat quicken every time he looked at you.
“you’re so annoying,” he muttered, under his breath, his hands moving to take your tight pink tank top off your body, over your head, your tits coming right into his vision. “god, can’t believe you let mark touch these,” he breathed out, more to himself than to you, as he reached down, pressing his nose against your skin. "always smell so good, baby," he whispered when you rolled your arms around his neck. he moved down to mouth one of your tits, his tongue rolling around your hard nipple, his fingers massaging the other one.
“jaehyun,” you cried and thrust your hips up against his abdomen, as your hands ran through his back, gripping his sweatshirt, signaling him to take it off.
he pulled away from you to take it off and you almost moaned at the sight of his bare torso. he let you run your hands through his skin, your nails scraping against his nipples, to which he hissed and then surged forward to latch his lips to yours again in a messy kiss.
his kisses ran a hot wet path from your neck to the valley between your tits, across your abdomen and then reaching your tight pink pajama shorts. the cotton material was so thin and tight that he could see you weren’t wearing panties underneath it. he let out a loud moan at that, resting his forehead against your pelvis, closing his eyes in restraint trying not to rip the material off your body and fuck you senselessly. he opted to stick out his tongue and lick the whole expanse of your pussy through the pink material.
“oh god,” you gasped, your hands immediately finding purchase in his hair. “d-don’t stop,” you cried as jaehyun messily licked against your already-soaked shorts.
it didn’t take him long to grow tired of the last piece of clothing in your body and get rid of it, throwing it somewhere in your room. he leaned back, to appreciate the sight of your body, completely naked, laid out, and waiting for his touch. you were glowing. “so perfect,” he whispered, and you almost came at that. you extended your leg to his hip, trying to pull him closer again. and jaehyun got back to his previous position with his head between your legs, pressing a quick kiss to your exposed clit, making you breathily curse out his name.
as soon as jaehyun's tongue made contact with your pussy your legs shook against his head. you let out a drawn-out moan and his hands grabbed tightly at your thighs keeping them spread open. you were reduced to a series of gasps and cries of jaehyun’s name as he hummed sounds of pleasure, and repeatedly fucked you open with his tongue, going in and out of your hole, to then run up your pussy and circle your clit in quick motions. “jae, i’m gonna c-“
“you can come, baby, come for me,” he muttered against your pussy, feeling the muscles of your pussy clenching and unclenching repeatedly, his hips already rutting against your bed in search of relief at the sight of your body withering before him. the vibrations of his voice against your pussy were enough to send you over the edge. you threw your head back, your legs shacking against jaehyun’s head, making him let out repeated whimpers. his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as his tongue lapped at your pussy, relentlessly working against your clit. your fingers pulled at his hair, and you cried out loud moans.
if it wasn't for your feet on his shoulder pulling him away, you’re not sure he would ever have stopped the motions of his tongue against you. when he did pull away, with the bottom half of his face covered in your juices, you smiled at him, hazy with lust, and he let out an amused chuckle at your fucked out expression. “mark could never eat you out like that,” he whispered against your lips, his face hovering over yours when his hips settled between your open legs.
he reached down, aligning his tip with your pussy, and immediately thrusted forward, not giving you any time to process the high you had only came down from.
“ah- jaehyun, what the fuck,” you cursed at the sharp pain of his thick girth filling you up in the way that only jaehyun knew how to. you had never felt anyone as big as jaehyun, someone who fit inside you like jaehyun did, satisfying all your needs. "fucking asshole," you hissed.
“stop whining like a fucking bitch and take what I give you,” he groaned through his teeth. “so fucking tight baby,” he said, moving in and out of you in quick motions, causing loud desperate cries to leave your mouth. “hasn’t he been fucking you loose, hum?” he asked as his pace got exponentially faster. “you need to learn that this is my pussy, you hear me?” he growled against your ear when you turned your face away from him, eyes scrunched and furrowed eyebrows. “you’re mine, only I can touch you like this,” he continued, and you let out a loud cry of his name. “say it, say it baby,” he growled again.
"jae, slow down- oh my god-" you gasped when he decided to do the exact opposite, his thrust getting harder.
when you didn’t say what he wanted you to, his hand reached your neck, applying enough pressure on it to cut your breathing short. “fucking say it,” he said and you moaned at the feeling of his hand on your neck. he laughed when your pussy clenched harder. “you like it when i choke you? fucking slut,” he said, chocking you even harder. “my slut-“
“yours,” you screamed. “only yours jaehyun,” you cried as the tears in your eyes ran down your cheeks. he rammed your pussy as you cried, letting out loud desperate moans. he grabbed your jaw, bringing your parted lips to his in a messy kiss, his muscle immediately intruding your mouth. drool was rolling down the side of your mouth, as his tongue and yours fought for dominance.
it was a mess. everything was a mess. you. jaehyun. the sound of jaehyun’s hips slamming the back of your tights. your blanket, covered in the juices of your previous orgasm.
it was when jaehyun let out again breathy whimper against your mouth that you knew he was close. he reached down, rubbing quick harsh circles against you clit. “can i come inside?” he asked against your mouth and you nodded fervently, muttering followed please’s against his lips. “gonna fill you up baby,” he moaned. “that’s all you’re good for isn’t it? just need someone to fuck you dumb don’t you? you don’t even care who it is,” he groaned and you cried, shaking your head in denial, to which jaehyun let out a smile of victory.
“no one fucks me like you do, jaehyun,” you cried and pulled him closer to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
“my baby,” he moaned, his tone suddenly softer than ever. “not mark’s. just mine.”
and with that, you came around his dick. your legs shaking violently against his hips, you threw your head against the bed, arching your back, pulling your chest flushed against jaehyun’s. and at the feeling of your velvety walls pulsing tightly around him, jaehyun’s pace inside you became almost animalistic until white spurts of his cum were filling you up.
he fucked his cum into you until there was nothing left, making you moan in overstimulation. “jae, s’too much,” you whimpered, and he stopped his motions, collapsing on top of your body, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
you ran the tips of your fingers through his spine as he peppered gentle pecks against the skin of your neck. his dick was still inside you when he asked, with his voice still raspy. “why did you sleep with mark?”
you sighed, noting the almost unnoticeable hint of disappointment behind his words. “you were busy.”
“what?” he asked, pulling his face away from your neck to look you in the eye, his brows furrowed. he hissed at the feeling of your sticky center against his. “what do you mean?” he asked while reaching down to get off you, laying by your side and throwing one arm on top of your waist with his palm against your tummy, staring at the side of your face.
“the blonde girl,” you mumbled, mindlessly playing with his fingers resting on your tummy.
he thought back to the party, remembering the blonde girl chasing around him through the party as he searched around the house for you, just for johnny to tell him that you had gone up to mark’s room. then, he thought back to when she was grinding on him as he kissed her mouth. “oh, you saw that?”
“yeah.”
“nothing really happened. we just kissed, then i found out you were in mark’s room and just went up to sulk in my own room,” he explained and you couldn’t help the little chuckle that left your lips at that.
“ i only went to mark's room because you were grinding on someone else! also, how do you say nothing happened and then say you ‘just kissed’” you mimicked. “I literally saw her on your lap. only I get to be on your lap during parties,” you mumbled as jaehyun watched you helplessly ramble from beside.
“we never said we were exclusive, y/n,” he said and you looked to the side, raised eyebrows, and parted lips, watching a teasing smirk grow on his lips.
“I thought it was explicit,” you whispered and jaehyun bit his bottom lip, enjoying your reaction to his teasing remark. "I mean, I wasn't sleeping with anyone else- and I'm not, it was really just that one time with mark, and just because I was angry and drunk." you stopped your rambling, feeling jaehyun's eyes on you and stopped playing with his fingers, building up the courage for your next question. "are you sleeping with other people?"
“I’m not,” he whispered, sighing dreamily and pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"you're being weirdly affectionate," you said, laughing at his reaction.
"you literally asked for it. I don't want to be a corpse," he answered making you let out an amused chuckle. "about the blonde girl," he said and you looked at him, your eyes boring into his. "I'm sorry I kissed her. the truth is that the night before, johnny hadn't shut up about how I was so in love with you and you didn't feel the same," your eyes widened in shock, and jaehyun laughed. "I freaked the fuck out and decided to sleep with someone else that night. but when i was about to take her up to my room, i basically just chickened out and went looking for you. and that's when i found out you had gone up with mark."
he explained, honesty overflowing in his voice, his eyes still fixed on yours. you sighed and looked back at the ceiling of your room. “I'm sorry, princess,” he whispered and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his hands starting to lovingly stroke the skin of your waist.
“are you in love with me?” you asked after a few minutes of silence and his hand stopped it's motions.
"I don't know," he answered. "probably."
you looked over at him. his hair was messy over his forehead, his eyes looked at you, hesitant, and with his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. you rolled around, laying on your side with your chest now pressed to his, and pulled his face closer with one hand behind his neck to gently press your lips together, your lips molding to his in a soft, slow kiss. his arms rolled around your waist as he hummed against your mouth and pulled your body on top of his.
"and what are you gonna do about that?" you asked when your lips parted.
"I don't know, I've never done this before," he whispered against your lips.
it was a known fact to you that jaehyun had never dated before. all his associations with other women were resumed to one-night-stands or one-month-long flings (and that was pushing it). so it was no shock that jaehyun really was clueless about what to do when it came to actual relationships. "you should probably take me on a proper date," you said between chuckles.
"aren't we a bit past that?" he asked, smirking. "I mean, I literally just fucked you," he laughed when you rested your forehead against his chest in faked disappointment. "will you make me the happiest man alive and go out with me?" he said when you moved to rest your chin against the center of his chest.
"oh my god, you're not proposing, jaehyun," you complained and jaehyun burst out laughing again. "try again."
"just let me take you on a date," he said, closing his eyes in annoyance, and you chuckled. "please?" he added, slowly opening his eyes to look down at you. at that, you reached up to press repeated pecks against his lips, unable to control the affection you felt towards the boy. it was endearing how clueless he was.
"how 'bout breakfast tomorrow?" you whispered against his lips and he nodded. "no fucking until then. we can't rush things," you warned and jaehyun laughed loudly, surprised you would even propose that knowing you two had had sex countless times before.
also, he was sleeping over. "you can't be serious," he deadpanned.
"I am! there are rules when it comes to dating, jaehyun!"
jaehyun ended up fucking you twice in the shower and, once again, in bed, before you went to sleep. in the morning, while you were getting ready to go out for breakfast, he fucked you against the wall of your bedroom and then again, with you bent over the bathroom counter. after that, as he was driving you two to the brunch place he had chosen, you argued about how he couldn't keep it in his pants. you argued, really, because he spent the whole ride mocking you. then, he fingered you under the table during brunch and had the guts to blame you for wearing a skirt.
nothing with jaehyun was according to the norm. he didn't believe in rules and he wouldn't ever do anything the way he was told to. you weren't ever sure of anything when it came to jaehyun and it infuriated you, but later that night, about 12 hours after your first date, jaehyun asked you to be his girlfriend, and you couldn't do anything except let out a burst of laughter and mutter an infatuated 'yes'.
and you couldn't be more certain of your answer.
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catladyoftheyr · 2 months
Text
Muscle Memory
Pt 2
Miguel O’Hara x reader
Summary: you left town for your career, but you and Miguel always end up hooking up whenever you come back home.
Warnings/ Authors note: I was listening to Muscle Memory by Kelsea Ballerini and I had a vision and had to write it down.
Warnings and other things to be aware of : SMUT (FILTHY 18+ I’m so serious), alcohol, but neither character becomes inebriated, rough sex, unprotected p in v, light choking, filming of sex, oral sex for both parties, lots of dirty talk, creampie, facial, semi public sex/exhibitionism. You’re fucking against his car in a back alley parking lot.
Word count: 2.7k
Special tag for @lazyjellyfish300 I know you wanna read it bb 🕷️🪼
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You haven't been home in months, but as you walked through the entryway of the local dive, you saw that your favorite spot on the end of the bar was still open. You slid onto the stool and ordered a margarita on the rocks. You sipped your drink quietly and pulled out your phone to check your email. You moved to a larger city after college for your career, but now it felt like work followed you everywhere you went, even off the clock. You were so absorbed in work that you didn’t notice that someone had taken the seat next to you at the bar: at least until you heard a familiar voice.
“Every time I see you you’re on that damn phone”
“Some of us have jobs, Miguel.”
“I have a job, thank you very much. It’s my bar you’re sitting in if I recall.” He smirked as he said the last sentence.
“Don’t you have work to do then? Besides terrorizing paying customers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile. Miguel might be annoying, but he was still the closest friend you had back home. He’d never resented you for leaving town, even if he’d wanted you to stay.
“You know your drinks are on the house when you come here, cariño”. He made his accent heavy when he used the pet name. He knew you had a soft spot when he spoke Spanish. Miguel motioned to the bartender and ordered you another margarita
“It seems like bad business practice to give free drinks to any beautiful woman that walks through your door. O’haras is gonna close if you keep it up” you joked, sliding your phone back in your pocket.
“Aye, only for you. How long are you staying this time?” He replied. He slid your drink in front of you, toying with the straw. The glass looked comically small next to Miguel’s large hands. Your mind drifted to the nights where his hands had been tangled in your hair, palming your breasts, and inside your-
You came back to reality when you felt Miguel playing with your bra strap under your sleeve. The song had changed to something country, and Miguel was humming in your ear. “You know what they say, tequila makes her clothes fall off” he whispered as he slid your strap further down your shoulder.
You slid your strap back in place and moved Miguel’s hand back to the bar. “You’re gonna have to do better than if you want to get in my pants tonight, Mig.” You wanted him just as badly, but weren’t ready to give in just yet. You wanted to make him work for it. “I bet you can’t beat me at pool”
Miguel let out a loud laugh and threw back his head. “That’s not even a fair fight. I’d feel terrible seeing you lose.”
“Aww is Miggy scared to lose to a girl? Sounds like you’re a chicken” you replied, knowing exactly how to rile him up. You got a thrill out of agitating Miguel, the way his forehead creased, his mouth curling downward.
“I’m telling you right now that I’m gonna wipe the floor with you,” he shot back, clearly holding back a smile. “Don’t expect me to hold back just because you suck” he chuckled.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less than the best from Miguel O’Hara.” You walked over to the pool table, sensing Miguel’s eyes trained on your ass as he ordered another round of drinks. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?” You called after him.
“I’m just admiring the view, baby”
If he wanted a show, you’d be sure to give him one. You made sure to raise your arms as high as you could when you reached for the pool sticks. You made sure that your shirt rode up, exposing a strip of skin above the waistband of your shorts. You handed one of the sticks to Miguel with a smug grin on your face. He bit his lip as he watched you arrange the balls in the rack; he ogled you as you deliberately arched your back bending over the table. “You can break,” you said flirtatiously.
Miguel took on a look of intense focus. You could see the way he calculated the best angle to shoot from. His t-shirt came untucked from his jeans when he moved around the table. You took in the view of his tanned skin, and the way his immense frame loomed over everything. Miguel had sunk three balls in quick succession before missing his next shot. He swore under his breath and turned to face you. “Your turn, sweetheart.”
“Come on, Mig. At least give me a chance to play before you sink everything.”
“No way! I told you I wasn’t going to go easy on you.”
You knew you didn’t stand a chance at winning; but you weren’t giving up without a fight. There weren’t any rules about distracting your opponent. You gave your shorts a gentle tug to emphasize your figure before analyzing which ball to aim for. You picked your target and leaned forward, moving your hips from side to side knowing Miguel was watching you. You took your shot slowly and watched with disappointment as the cue ball sank into a hole. “Fuck”
“Woof, a scratch on your first turn? You’re making this too easy” Miguel taunted you with a smirk. He grabbed two bottles of beer off a table and tore off the caps with his teeth, spitting them into his open palm before shoving them in his pocket. It was his favorite party trick, and he knew it turned you on. He turned back to the pool table. “Watch and learn, nena. This is how a pro does it.” He sunk two more stripes and missed the third.
That made five balls to your whopping total of zero. Time to ramp up your distraction strategy. “If you’re so good, then why don’t you help with this next shot?” You tried to sound as innocent as possible.
Miguel obliged and stood behind you, his frame towering over you. He placed his arms on yours and the heat of his body sent shockwaves down your spine. You bent together in perfect sync as Miguel showed you where to aim, saying something about keeping an eye on the ball and how to line up your shot. You weren’t listening, instead pressing your hips against his. You moved slowly and deliberately, grinding against his crotch. The friction was driving you both crazy, but neither of you wanted to be the first to admit it. Miguel stifled a moan and pressed into you even harder. Neither of you cared about pool anymore. He nipped at your ear and you tried not to squeak. The pool sticks fell to the tabletop and Miguel leaned to whisper in you ear.
“Follow me.” Miguel grabbed your hand and you both stumbled out the back door of the bar into the parking lot. Immediately he had you pressed against the brick wall of the building. His lips crashed into yours, desperate and frenzied. You kissed back and grabbed his hair in an effort to pull him even closer. His tongue found its way into mouth while you moaned into the kiss. Miguel broke the kiss only to move his lips to your neck. “You’re such a fucking tease.” His eyes bored into yours. “Every time you come home you come into my bar, practically fucking begging to end up underneath me.”
“And you it up, Miggy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hoisted yourself up to cross your legs behind his back. “You want me so bad; you’d do anything for this pussy.” Miguel’s hands cupped your ass, sliding under the hem of your shorts. You moaned as he kneaded your flesh expertly. He carried you over to his car while you were still wrapped around him. Miguel let you down and leaned against the hood of his car, his cock clearly straining against the denim of his jeans.
“This is what you do to me, baby. You drive me so fucking crazy.” He groaned. You rubbed his cock through the fabric, relishing the noise he made as you teased him. You unbuckled his belt and tugged down his pants and boxers. Miguel’s cock sprang free and you could barely wrap your hand around his thick girth. You were no stranger to his body but could swear he seemed bigger than you remembered. Miguel moaned loudly as you slowly your hand up and down his shaft, taking care to rub your thumb over his sensitive tip.
Whenever you and Miguel hooked up it felt natural. You’d done this so many times you both knew exactly what the other liked. Every nook and cranny, every secret spot. You knew exactly which buttons to press to drive each other wild. You picked up the pace of your strokes before kneeling to take him in your mouth. “Please baby. I need more. Need you to suck my cock.” Miguel’s voice was desperate and pleading. You licked from base to tip, tasting the salt of the precum he was leaking like a faucet. You bobbed your head up and down, struggling with his size. Miguel bucked his hips in response and you made it halfway down the length of his cock.
You came up for air and spit in your palm and began stroking the base while you sucked. Miguel groaned and you felt him wrap a hand in your hair, pushing your mouth down further. “Come on baby, I know you can take me.” Your hands fell to your sides and Miguel’s hands guided you up and down his shaft. “You’re so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.” His pace quickened and he began to fuck your face, thrusting down your throat. He pulled out of your mouth and started stroking himself. “Fuckkk I’m gonna cum. Open your mouth for me, baby.” You closed your eyes and stuck out your tongue, feeling ropes of semen hit your face and tongue. You licked your lips, tasting the salt and sweat. You opened your eyes to see Miguel had his phone out. “Smile for me, hermosa. You look so pretty with my cum on your face I want to remember this” he cooed while snapping pictures.
Miguel helped you up off your knees and swiped his fingers softly across your face before popping them into his mouth to clean them. He kissed you again before pressing you face down against the hood of his car. You felt his large hand palming against your pussy through your shorts. “Mmmplease, Mig. Don’t tease me like this.” He kept rubbing, pressing the fabric into your folds.
“You’ve been teasing me all night, baby. Paybacks a bitch.” Miguel crouched down and kissed your pussy through your denim shorts; You felt him massage your ass while he pressed his mouth against you. He pressed down firmly as you squirmed under his touch, desperately trying to increase the friction. “Stop fucking wiggling.” He yanked your shorts down so the only thing between him and your cunt was the thin fabric of your thong. He rubbed your clit through your panties and you gasped.
“Please, baby. I need more” you moaned breathlessly. He picked up the pace, making quick circles around your bud with his large fingers. You felt the pleasure building steadily as Miguel worked his magic. “Ah! I’m almost there. Keep going, Miggy!” Just as the words left your mouth he stopped, leaving you hanging on the edge of your orgasm. “What the fuck was that for?!” You turned to face him and saw a shit eating grin on his face. “It’s not fucking funny, Mig” you groaned.
“I told you, payback is a bitch. You don’t get to cum until I say you can, baby.” You sighed and Miguel pressed you against the car hood again with one hand, using the other to push your panties to the side. He slid one thick finger into you and moved it slowly in and out. “You’re so fucking wet for me baby. And so tight. I’m gonna stretch this pussy out” he cooed, adding a second finger. “That’s it, baby.” He knelt down again and you felt him trade his fingers for his tongue. He darted in and out of your entrance, and you flooded with wetness. “You taste so fucking good”. Miguel continued licking, kissing, and sucking every fold of your slit. The pleasure building up was starting to become unbearable; you had no idea how you were going to be able to hold back. Then Miguel said the magic words: “Cum for me, cariño” he purred, sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it.
You let yourself fall over the edge and you gasped as your orgasm overtook you. Waves of pleasure racked your body and you found yourself speechless. You were coming down from the rush when you felt the tip of Miguel’s cock poking at your entrance. “It’s too big” you moaned, already feeling the stretch from just the tip.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ve done this before. You’re so good at taking me, baby.” Miguel replied, pressing in another inch of his girth. He grunted as he felt you stretching around him. “Your pussy is so good. You make me feel so good.” Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up to his chest, pushing his cock in further. He grabbed your hair and turned your face toward him to kiss you again. The kiss deepened and became frenzied as you felt him going deeper and deeper until he finally bottomed out inside of you. You felt so full you couldn’t believe he fit inside of you.
“Your cock is so fucking big, Miggy. I need you to fuck me.” You moaned, not caring if anyone else was around. Miguel took your words to heart and immediately started pumping in and out, your wetness running down your thighs. He kept a steady pace, hitting the sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. “Fuck me harder” you cried, cockdrunk.
Miguel pulled out and flipped you over, dragging you both to the side of his car. He pulled out his phone again and pressed record before reentering you. “Put on a show for me baby, show the camera how good I make you feel.” You moaned louder, happy to show off for him. Miguel pushed up your shirt to expose your tits and palmed them roughly with one hand. He groped and squeezed, pinching and rolling your nipples between his digits.
“Fuck, Miggy. You feel so good. Keep going”
“You’re taking this cock so well, baby. The camera loves you. You’re such a little slut for me I love it.” He pumped harder, hitting your cervix with his tip. His spare hand moved from your chest to your throat and he squeezed lightly. You let out a moan and felt pleasure start to build in your core again. You used one hand to start rubbing circles on your clit while Miguel was thrusting. “That’s it, baby. Rub it out for me. You’re taking my cock so well.”
“M-mig I’m close. I’m gonna cum” you squeaked out, the circles on your clit becoming more frantic.
“Go on, nena. Cum on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you’re cumming for me.” Miguel’s encouragement pushed you over the edge and your second orgasm ripped through your body. You felt yourself clench tighter around his cock and he thrusted harder, taking his hand off your throat and using it to steady you against the side of the car. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna put a baby in you, then you can’t leave me again.” Miguel gave one final thrust before you felt him release, spilling his seed inside of you. He grunted before pulling out slowly.
“That was so good, mig. I remember why I come back to this place when I’m in town now” you joked, pulling your clothes back into place. Miguel finished redressing himself and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah? Well maybe you should come home more often then.”
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aniharas · 2 months
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skinnydipping with felix catton...
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drabble warnings: explicit language, sexual content, exhibitionism(?), mention of drugs
...was not on your to-do list this summer. sure, you knew your boyfriend was the embodiment of reckless fun, and that’s why you liked him. unfortunately, this meant many rudely awoken mornings and no opportunities to sleep in. you would whine every time he yanked the covers off of you, though you didn’t complain. the summer heat during your stay at saltburn was no joke.
at first, you always questioned why he always seemed to want to do those things in the morning. felix would always scoff, saying his family was unbearable since you were the first girl he brought home. early morning was the best time to avoid them. surely saltburn was big enough for you both to find a secluded place for some privacy, right?
his claims about his family would be proven right. mrs. catton would always helicopter the both of you whenever you were outside; she even caught you straddling felix at the heart of the hedge maze. mr. catton was always lurking in the castle. doing anything with felix at night would mean that farleigh would find out, and his ears seemed to pick up everything. you’d only get lucky with venetia around, at times being too inebriated to care or even notice.
felix would always wake you up the same, his large hands smoothing up the curves of your body before he’d climb on top of you. “mornin’,” he’d coo in your ear, thumb stroking your cheek. “got a surprise for you. maids’ve left you some breakfast. meet me by the lake.” the surprises would range from watching the sunrise to having a romp in the vast fields as you licked coke off his abs. needless to say, you were ready to expect anything. at least, you thought you were.
he would leave you to eat your breakfast, but not before planting a hungry kiss to your lips, muttering “don’t be late” as he squeezed your ass gently. you’d quickly scarf down your food, throwing on light clothing so you weren’t absolutely drenched in your own sweat as you ran to meet him.
and today, he stood on the walkway by the lake with that stupid grin on his face, a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. two bicycles were parked on either side of him. “snagged the good ones,” he bragged, obviously proud of the achievement.
at first, you thought, ‘really? biking at 8 in the morning?’ but it was only when felix eagerly pushed one bike your way that you thought, maybe it wasn’t so bad as long as he was this happy.
and you were right. you and felix cycled around almost the entire perimeter of saltburn, sweat trickling down your foreheads and backs as the both of you endlessly chatted about what shenanigans happened in the castle the day prior. sometimes, he’d shout, “race you!”, and then take off speeding without even giving you time to react. of course, you wouldn’t indulge him in his competitive fetish, but it left you giggling every time.
after a while, the both of you ended up back at the small lake you had rendezvoused at just before 11 am. the sweat had thoroughly soaked through the white tank top you had thrown on that day, the transparency revealing the skin underneath. maybe you shouldn’t have skipped on wearing your training bra. as the both of you panted to catch your breath, felix’s gaze locked onto your chest, eyes darkening the longer he looked. then, he instantly threw off his shirt while begging you to get in.
“come on then, how else are we gonna cool off?” “felix, i can’t. i...don’t have anything under.” “n’ you think i can’t see that? just take it off, darling. i’ll strip too. get your knickers off.”
you were shy as you cautiously stripped off your clothes, felix teasing you every so often as he’s “already seen it all before”. he had all of his clothes off before you could even protest, wading into the water.
he was sweet and caring as he guided you into the cold, refreshing water, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. he laughed at the way your teeth chattered at the feeling of the water enveloping your bare body. although the water was shallow, you still gripped onto his frame tightly to hide your chest.
at first, the both of you just swam about, getting into major splash fights and once again, felix initiating his one-sided races against you. when you finally caught up to him, he scooped you up into his arms, leaving you giggling relentlessly.
it was only then you felt a warm, tingling feeling in your abdomen as you wrapped your legs around him, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. he tasted like tobacco and remnants of the lake water, the taste becoming more and more prominent as his lips began to devour yours.
he was always the handsy type while making out, not missing a beat as he ran his hands all over your slick body, massaging and squeezing at all your right spots. that’s what you liked about him too, he always remembered how make you melt into him, even more than the summer heat.
the makeout sessions usually didn’t last long, and that proved to be true once again as he held you tight and carried you out of the water. the immediate bite of cold that hit was immeasurable to the heat radiating off of his bare, toned body. your heat brushed against him with each step he took, leaving you whining in his ear, begging for him to let you take him.
felix was never one to waste time, sprawling you out on the grassy shore, before immediately burying his face into your cunt. his tongue always worked wonders for you, but today it felt different. maybe it was the way the warmth of his tongue was so mind boggling after the dip in the lake, maybe it was the tension that was building the longer you swam naked together. regardless, it had you squeezing your thighs around his head, fingers desperately tugging at his soft, brunette locks as his name tumbled from your lips.
he’d groan in response, the vibration surging from his plush lips against your heat so deliciously, a string of curses left your mouth as you threw your head back. he lapped at your folds relentlessly, navigating you with such ease that made you wonder if he knew your body better than you did. the tip of his tongue flicked torturously at your clit, leaving you writhing about just the same way you would if you were in the castle’s finest bed sheets. with felix, it always felt so good, dare you say better each time. it was something you never wanted to grow used to or tired of.
and the way felix stretched you out was something you knew you’d never tire of. his relentless gait rocked your body up and down, leaving your eyes to roll back up into your head with the warm pleasure that spread through your whole body. it was only then that he finally spoke between his grunts, his words, just like before, caring and guiding. “that’s it, baby.” “you’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well.” “keep sayin’ my name babe– just like that.”
you always knew that the moment you looked in his eyes and cried out his name in a way you only knew how, he’d come undone. this time, he let out a strained cry of your name, spilling thick spurts of his seed inside you, overflowing from your cunt almost as if he hadn’t been fucking you every day. you shortly followed, your walls gripping him so tightly as your orgasm left you convulsing.
felix collapsed on top of you just like he had done this morning, the remnants of lake water falling from his hair and onto your neck as he rested his head in the valley of your cleavage. the both of you watched as a stream of your combined fluids traveled from between your legs and down towards the lake, weaving between the strands of flattened grass before it dripped into the murky water. he went back to stroking your face, the lull of your heartbeat easing his own.
“shit– that was inside, huh?” “yeah. i’m on the pill, it’s alright.” “since when?” “your mum slipped me some when i first got here.” “...this family’s fuckin' embarrassing.”
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a/n: first time for felix AND first time posting a drabble! ik its a bit long for a drabble but its a lot shorter and different than what i'm used to writing. thank u to miss @loveliestlovelygirl for the drabble idea. ur mind is unmatched. i hope you all enjoy! likes , reblogs , and ur thoughts r appreciated :) inbox is open for any requests!!
masterlist.
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cordeliawhohung · 4 months
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okay, here's the better run down on mafia!Soap as promised (as well as his fem!nurse!Reader gf <3)
like it's sorta referenced in canon, Soap is the youngest of Price's closest circle. he used to do freelance work as a programmer/hacker and got hired by the wrong crowd trying to steal some of Price's information. impressed, Price actually offered the man a job and he took it mostly because Price paid better. stayed because he also grew to like the man.
people legit call the man Soap in this universe too because he can clean hardware and information like no one's business. otherwise, they'll just call him by his last name or Johnny.
has an odd dynamic with Simon in this universe. more of like his annoying little brother than a good friend. they get along fine, but they don't really interact much outside of work. he's actually really close friends with Kyle, though. the two play games together sometimes, and Soap of course teaches him how to torrent games because fuck activision <3
he's got a few piercings. simple ear lobe piercings that he usually wears simple studs in, but he also has a tongue piercing. just the classic, straight through with a simple bar. he got it because he's a fucking munch
i feel like he wouldn't get many more tattoos than what he already has in canon ngl. if he does, they're def something stupid as fuck that have no meaning. something he probably got due to a dare, or while he was insanely inebriated.
he also doesn't have as many scars as he does in canon. certainly not the one on his chin. he def played football when he was younger, and still likes to play skirmishes every now and then. he also lifts on the regular. sure, he's tech savvy, but he goes fucking insane having to sit around too much, so going for a run or hitting the gym is a really good way to get his energy out!
while he doesn't have too many scars, he still is getting himself hurt a lot. not because he's clumsy or anything, he just really, really, really wants to ensure that something gets done right whenever he's sent out to do "field work." usually ends up with a TBI because of it lmfao.
and that's actually how the two of you met (:
being an ER nurse, you saw a lot of weird shit at the hospital, especially on day shift. then you had this loud man with a huge gash on his head and a suspected concussion roll through the door and honestly you're just glad it wasn't another damn car accident. you were tired of looking at compound fractures.
Johnny is just a fucking loon. literally acting inebriated, and poor Kyle is trying to prevent him from saying anything too stupid.
it doesn't work
at first you have a hard time telling if he's being a creep or not. commenting on your scrubs, how he likes the color, but honestly you've heard worse. but it is sort of cute. he's so loopy he's got this dog-like excitement to him and has a hard time focusing on anything in particular. it's more innocent than anything else.
he falls in love with you the moment you bring him a snack (some shitty and dry saltines and a cup of water). he devours one of the crackers like it's crack and thanks you with his mouth half full.
that's when he gets the bright idea to give you his number. a simple thanks isn't enough for the kind gift you've given him! he's got to let you know that he's down to do anything for you! so if anyone fucks with you, if you need someone taken care of give him a call. he won't ask any questions!
kyle is fucking mortified, hiding his face in the corner of the room, but you just smile and kindly take the piece of paper with his scribbled number.
of course you don't actually text or call him. he was a patient of yours, and that's just breaking so many rules! and you certainly don't need anyone to be taken care of. so you leave it be. despite how adorable his loopy smile was or how pretty his eyes were or... christ, you need to throw that scrap paper away.
and Johnny? well, he forgets all about you. not on purpose or anything, the poor man was hardly conscious when he met you, and he only interacted with you briefly. so imagine his surprise when him and Kyle are out on the town and the man points you out to him asking if you ever ended up texting him.
Johnny is fucking confused. why would she text him? (you gave your number to her, idiot) oh. that can't be. (why not?) because he would have fucking remembered if he had given his number to a girl that beautiful.
now he wants to figure out why you never texted him ):<
anyway there's more to this but my shift was long and my brain is frozen from the fuckin -31 degree weather we got so <3 enjoy lore about the idiot
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catcze · 7 months
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
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Wriothesley always makes it a point to stay sober if you drink. Whether it's in one of those upscale clubs on the surface or in the safety of his office in the fortress, he absolutely refuses to touch even a single drop of alcohol when you're even the slightest bit inebriated.
Once, a few shots of tequila in, you asked him why he doesn't ever get drunk with you.
"Taking care of you all tipsy and slurring will always beat out getting drunk, sweetheart," he had told you.
And Wriothesley wasn't lying, either. To him, seeing you slurring and clingy and stumbling over your own two feet as you reach towards him is one of the cutest things ever. He enjoys being able to cradle your warm body close, being able to stroke your hair and take care of you when you let your guard down around him.
Like now, for instance. You're both in his office, a half-full bottle of Snezhenayan Firewater left on his desk, with you sitting horizontally on his lap, curling into his chest. One of Wriothesley's hands curls around your waist, keeping you safe and secure in case you drunkenly lean too far back, while the other holds you close and strokes your hair. You're nuzzled under his neck, breath tickling his collarbone with each exhale and making goosebumps rise on his skin.
Earlier he'd kissed your forehead whenever you began rambling about this and that, and had offered up his hands or his necktie for you to play with whenever you got restless. But it's been a while since then, and Wriothesley can tell when you're slowly drifting off to sleep. With each passing second your eyes grow more and more droopy, and you lean more and more of your weight into the muscled planes of his body. It doesn't help when he begins murmuring into your ear, the rumbling of his chest under you making you so damn sleepy.
And when you yawn, oh, Wriothesley can feel his heart kick in his chest because you're so cute and he's so endeared by you that he genuinely thinks you've broken him for anybody else.
He wants to let you sleep immediately, he really does, but he knows you'll kill him come morning for not forcing you to brush your teeth or wash your face. So he stands, one arm behind your back and the other under your knees, cradling you close as he tries his best to meander out of the office without jostling you too badly.
"Sweetheart," He whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I know you're sleepy, but you have to brush your teeth and wash your face first, okay? I'll help though, don't worry."
And you sigh a little, melting into his hold and nuzzling close. A kiss is pressed to his shoulder, the only place you can reach without straining too badly. Sleepily, you mumble. "Mmkay, Wrio. Thanks. Love you."
And this —his heart leaps in his chest, his face heats with a blush and he can wholly feel the way his gaze softens— this is the reason why he stays sober whenever you drink. Because nothing in the world can ever be better than being able to take care of you when you need him.
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Drunk Deuce Headcanons
Reader is intended to be female
Masterlist
So whilst I don’t think he’s a light weight, Deuce can get pretty tipsy really easily.
Deuce is a hundred percent an affectionate clingy drunk
He’s definitely a lot more handsy than he would be whilst sober. Deuce is a touchy boyfriend in general, and always has his hands on you even in public whether he’s holding your hand as you walk, wrapping an arm around your waist or shoulders or even indulging in the occasional full blown hug where he gives into the constant urge to just engulf your frame with his. He would love to do PDA, and you’ve certainly made it clear that you’re absolutely fine with it as well, but his general shyness, gentlemanly instincts, and drive to be a well behaved honour student that abides by the rules make it a bit hard for him to just kiss you in public no matter how much he wants to. So he just settles for hand touching and the occasional pecks on the cheek and forehead.
Having you close just feeds his protective instincts and the side of him that’s just so giddy and amazed to hold you. Like, wow, I’m dating this amazing girl and I want to touch her and she wants me to touch her. Is this heaven? Plus, being affectionate in a place where other people can see does appease a smug part of him that he’s not too ashamed of hiding. He’s not possessive by any means, but the butterflies in his stomach start flapping like crazy whenever he thinks about how everyone else knows that the both of you are each others - like, he’s known that he belongs to you ever since that incident long ago where you learned about his past yet looked at him with that caring supportive gaze but now you also belong to him. 
In private his urge to touch you is just amped up, seeing how he’s now able to do as he pleases without anyone but the two of you to bear witness.
He just wants you so much. Every second of every hour of every day, his head is filled with your laughter, your smile, your sparkling eyes, the melody of your voice, the tingling of your touch. You drive him madder than the residents of Wonderland.
Anyway, back to him being inebriated 
He’ll whine, clinging onto you like a koala, not caring about others watching as his face makes a home for itself in the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin. Strong, athletic arms will hold you close against him, whether he’s dragged you onto his lap or he’s seated beside you but has you in a vice grip with his arms draped over your shoulders like you’re wearing a Deuce sized jumper.
If you do manage to escape his hold (though, why would you??) he’ll follow you around like a newly imprinted baby duckling, trailing after you with wide pleading eyes and a dopey lovestruck smile and awestruck eyes. Having to close the bathroom door on his sad puppy eyes feels worse than a hundred daggers to your chest but you were honestly desperate to go at that point.
(Yes, he pouted outside until you were done and then immediately latched onto you the second the door opened again. He’s one of Professor Crewel’s favourite students for a reason)
Normally when Deuce is needy, he’s a lot more - well, I wouldn’t say ‘aggressive’ per say - but he’s more physically demanding of your affection, pressing hard and fast kisses against your lips, cheeks, neck in quick succession as his hands hold you flush against him but then again, needy Deuce only comes out in private. When he’s got liquid courage coursing through his veins, however, everything’s slow, savouring, all relaxed veneration and gentle adoration - letting him drown in his all-consuming devotion, even when he knows that time will stop before he’s even begun to be sated.
And he’s a lot more shameless about it, indulging himself all out in the open. The Queen of Hearts herself could be before him and he wouldn’t care, not when he’s got his own goddess to revere.
Sliding, his lips down the slope of your neck, pressing slow, drowsy kiss after slow, drowsy kiss only forcing himself to pull away from your skin when you call his name, so sweet and tantalizing, to look up at you with dark, besotted eyes and flushed cheeks before continuing where he left off. In his opinion, if your words stutter and fumble as you converse with your friends - who pray to The Seven that their next shot is much much stronger - then he’s on the right path
He’s a cuddly, clingy puppy but he’s your cuddly clingy puppy and you won’t have him any other way
Meanwhile everyone else is completely done with the pair of you and Ace is certain that the nausea he feels has absolutely nothing to do with the empty glass of alcohol in his hand.
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wood-white-writer · 6 months
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“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [7/…]
— OPLA! Buggy x F!Reader
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“It's funny how I still forgot, it would be a hundred times easier if we were young again,”
— Mitski, “Two Slow Dancers”
Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8
Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. 
In the aftermath of your drunken escapades, you wake up to find yourself faced with new challenges, including a killer headache, a group of fish people, and the very clown responsible for putting you in this position. Needless to say, it does not bode well to take on fights while still inebriated.
Warnings: Canon typical violence, fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, alcoholic indulgence on a catastrophic scale (drink responsibly ppl), morally grey reader, violence, descriptions of blood and wounds,
A/N: The next chapter will be fully dedicated to Buggy and Reader/"Cross Hairs"
"Chug, chug, chug!" Both Buggy and Shanks cheer you on as you all but inhale the contents in your bottle in one go, not stopping until all of it has gone down. You pull back with an audible inhale, and after a couple of quiet seconds, the loudest BUUUURP! ever to cross the oceans erupt from the pits of your stomach.
Your two crewmates watch in awe, then erupt into hard fits of laughter that have them rolling on the ground while clenching their stomach. 
After pumping your fists victoriously into the air and discarding the bottle, you join them soon after and settle down around the campfire. You three barely managed to put one together, but with the help of a few thin twigs and a bottle of the captain's purest liquor, you got it going soon enough.
Buggy wipes the tears away from his eyes and pulls another bottle of stolen beverages from his bag. "Not bad, not bad at all. Still, listen to this."
Jumping to his feet, Buggy swings the bottle, takes a glorious gulp, and punches his chest a few times. Out comes a large BUUUURP! that surpasses yours by miles, and continues to echo from around the island.
You immediately raise your hands in applause, laughing in that sweet way that makes his pulse quicken. In truth, your laughter is hardly elegant, more like the sounds a dying boar makes, yet he enjoys it all the same.
With one arm straightened out whereas the other goes to his chest, he makes a dramatic bow in front of you across the fire. "Thank you, thank you, my fair lady. I'll be here all day."
When he straightens up again, he sees the fire shine so clearly in your eyes; the flames dancing in your irises, and he feels warmer than the fire itself. You're looking at him - him - with such adoration that his stomach feels funny. Maybe it's the liquor playing a part in this, yet he doubts it.
"Buggy, that was so gross!" Shanks says with mirth, then gestures for the bottle. "Give it here! I'll show you how it's really done."
"Sure, I'd like to see you try!" Buggy hands him the bottle.
"There's no way you can surpass that, Shanks." You oppose lightly. "No fucking way."
"Yeah, watch me!" 
Shanks takes a generous portion, pats his stomach, and out comes yet another BUUURP! 
Sure, it's impressive enough, but nowhere near Buggy's, and the redhead acknowledges this with a defeated sigh before anyone even says anything.
"It's alright," Buggy severs his hand to pat him patronizingly on the back. "You tried. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, you know?"
Shanks pushes his hand away with a grin. "Oh, lay of it!"
The night continues like that, with some more drinking, some more burping contests, and sharing their thoughts on the latest endeavors of the Oro Jackson. Whenever the crew docked for a while someplace, the three of you would usually find some way to enjoy your time off away from the crew's supervision like this.
It also involves the three of you singing sea shanties together, arms hooked around each other as you sing at the top of your lungs:
"Gather up all of the crew, It's time to ship out Bink's brew. Pirates we, eternally, Are challenging the seas!"
It is just fun; three teenagers enjoying their teenage years to the fullest until the day they can venture on their own.
After a while, Buggy starts to feel his bladder press, probably from the liquor. He tries to ignore it at first, not wanting to miss anything, but it does not take long before he has to oblige with his body's request.
You're the first to notice him moving. "Where are you going, Buggy?"
He waves his hand dismissively. "Just got to take a piss."
"Don't go too far," Shanks adds with a twinge of mischief in his eyes. "I've heard there are boars on this island, don't want to get chased, do you?"
Buggy feels chills run up his arms, but he refuses to acknowledge it. "S-Shut it! There aren't any shitty boars here, or we'd see them by now!"
"Yeah, but I've also heard that they catch the smell of piss particularly strong,"
"Bullshit!" He trudges off. "Boars, my ass!"
"Be careful, Buggy!" you call after him.
The chills across his body immediately get replaced with a sense of pride, and he disappears to do his business with a smile.
Once he's finished and headed back, he can hear your soft laughter as he approaches the makeshift campsite. His heart nearly drops into his stomach when he sees what's going on.
You and Shanks are sitting closer together now, knees width apart, and you're laughing. Shanks just told a joke, a terrible joke that makes even Buggy cringe, yet you laugh all the same. 
That soft laughter, just not for him this time.
It shouldn't make him feel as shitty as it does, yet a nauseous feeling settles in the pits of his stomach. You and Shanks are crew mates and friends, just as he is. He's never caught onto any implications that you like him in that sense, but why does it sting so much then to watch the two of you like this? So close, so at ease, so carefree and soft.
He often thinks about the time you saved him, about the time you brought an entire crew down just for him. You held his hand, you were worried; he’s been thinking that maybe there’s something there that isn’t just in his imagination.
But, wouldn’t you have done the same thing for Shanks, too? Has he maybe mistaken camaraderie for something else? Something that's not there?
Buggy suddenly feels ill, and he can’t blame it on the alcohol this time.
He thinks that it makes sense, in a way that gives his deep-rooted insecurity a boost. Shanks has always been the better of the two; a natural leader, calm in battle, and strategic in the ways that he himself is unable to be. 
Meanwhile, Buggy is ... Well, just Buggy. 
Buggy with the weird, red, enlarged nose people always make fun of. 
Buggy, who can never seem to pull off the same stunts as successfully as Shanks can. 
Buggy, who cracks the worst kinds of jokes that oftentimes make people laugh more out of pity than genuine humor. 
You always laugh at them, laugh with him, but maybe he’s been mistaken there too?
It's obvious that Shanks is the better choice. Buggy would follow him anywhere, and he'd follow you anywhere, yet the thought of you following Shanks whereas Buggy trails behind the both of you like a stray puppy just feels ...
"Ah, there you are." Your voice snaps him out of his head as you wave him over. "You didn't come across any boars, did you?"
It takes him a moment to respond, and when he does, it's nothing grand. His voice has been reduced to a demure murmur as he steps closer to the fire. "No, there is nothing."
"You sure?" Shanks asks with a grin. "Thought I heard some noises back there!"
For some reason, Buggy snaps "IT'S NOTHING!"
His outburst evidently catches the both of you off-guard. 
"Buggy, are you al—?"
"I'm fine." He's not. "But we should head back before the captain instigates a damn search party for us. We've probably been out too long."
He turns his back to you and starts heading in the direction you came from, and he feels his chest tighten so fucking much it makes breathing hard. He tries to tell himself it's not what he thinks, but at the same time, that nagging whisper in the back of his head that always stalks him is incessant.
"It makes sense," it whispers. "After all, it's never you."
———
"What in the hell is the matter with you?"
It takes you several minutes to force your eyes open. You're in the restaurant, you uncover, lounging over a table with a thin napkin serving as the only cushion for your cheek. 
By some miracle, you manage to aim your eyes up from behind your arms and see Zeff standing there with his hands on his hips, like an angry grandfather of sorts.
"Zeff," you groan and heave a tired breath. Fuck, your head is killing you, as though a hamster wheel has found residence in your cranium. "It's too early for this."
"It's almost eleven o'clock, the sun is up."
"Still too early," 
"Heard you practically robbed the bar last night; the bill is through the damn roo-"
Before he gets to finish, you dig into the pocket of your pants and pull out a hefty pouch of berries on the table. A few spill out on the wooden surface, clinking. "Just take this as compensation and give me another bottle while you're at it."
Zeff looks at the pouch, does a mental count, and finally takes it after deciding that it's enough. "Huh, thought that scrawny chore boy was broke?"
"They are." You turn to let your chin rest on the table, giving you a little better view than before. "But I did have a pension plan before I retired. Keep it with me when it counts."
Zeff sighs and pockets the berries without complaint, but not before giving you an unimpressed one-over. You're happy you don't carry a mirror with you; probably look like shit, and you feel like shit, too. Your hangover could've been considerably worse, but at this moment in time, you'd prefer it if you went to sleep and didn't wake up for another twenty years or so.
"What the hell is going on with you, lass?" Zeff finally asks, and this time, he retains some of his usual roughness. 
"Nothing ..." you murmur.
His bushy eyebrows scrunch. "I've been working at this place for almost a decade, seen people at their worst. People down on their luck, people who've lost, people who've grieved."
"And?"
"And I'll tell you something, lass. No one looks quite as damn destroyed as someone who's had their hearts broken."
The hamster wheel comes to a screeching halt, and you abruptly sit up to glare at him. "I'm not heartbroken. Why does everyone insist on that?"
His lips tug into a halfway smirk like he's just caught a fish on his hook. "You're strong, I'll give you that much, but no one's above the loss of love. So, who was the bloke?"
"No one," you almost spit, narrowing your eyes. 
Zeff remains undeterred, even a little proud. "Couldn't have been a 'no one' if they managed to capture the interest of the Beast of the East, can they?"
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from lunging at the old man for even insinuating that someone - specifically him - has managed to put you in such a sorry state. You won't give the Chief the satisfaction.
With some herculean effort on your part, you take a deep breath and recline in your seat. Quietly, without looking at the chief, you order: "Three beers and today's lunch."
Zeff shrugs. "Fine, but after, you should check on your crew. That swordsman really took a hit,"
Right, Zoro challenged Mihawk to a fucking duel, and the memories come flooding back to you. You glance up at that chief, masking the underlying concern with a face of indifference. "He alive?"
"Yes and no. If you want to know, go see for yourself."
You nod, and he leaves you to stir your hangover. Maybe it was a mistake to get as shitfaced as you did, but that doesn't change the fact that you tried to keep them from making mistakes. You did what you were supposed to, yet still, why does it feel like this is your fault?
You've grown fond of the crew, and it's become more of a headache than you initially bargained for.
The waiter comes with your order on a plate, not Sanji this time, you discover. In fact, he's nowhere to be seen. 
Without wasting your breath, you immediately dig into your meal like a woman starved of sustenance. It tastes delicious, but the residue of yesterday's liquor on your tongue dilutes the taste. You don't care, though.
Shortly after finishing half a portion of your lunch, you resume with your bottles. A slower pace this time, to ensure that your current condition doesn't significantly worsen, but still fast enough to keep you from remembering.
Remembering too much.
Half a bottle into your stupor, the entrance doors slam open and a pang of pain burst through the nerves in your brain. All you can think is that it's way too early for someone to be stirring shit up.
A round of gasps echoes through the establishment, and when you peek up from over your shoulder, you see three fish people making their entrance from the top of the staircase. 
You've had your share of encounters with fish people in the past, some more ... tolerable than the rest. In hindsight, there's no difference between the way you treat people; if they get on your nerves, you deal with them. If they don't, you leave them be.
Your instincts tell you that these people will fall into the former category.
However, you notice that the one with the sharp nose looks awfully familiar, but your temporary amnesia might have something to do with the alcohol circling in your veins. Still, it's not a face that's easy to forget.
A few people try to get up from their seats, but with a simple, "Sit down!", they comply.
You narrow your eyes at the spectacle but don't move to get away. As long as he doesn't bother you, there's no reason for you to get involved. Baratie's had worse customers before, so this is nothing new. Zeff'll handle it like he always does.
So, you continue with your drinks, already annoyed and in desperate need of the numbing sensation only the bottle can provide. Zeff appears to deal with it, and it doesn't pique your interest until the fish man proclaims: 
"Listen up! I'm looking for a pirate in a straw hat! Goes by the name of Luffy."
Now this catches your attention mid-sip. 
You look at the particular fish man discreetly over your shoulder, your sobriety making a quick return once you discover that you do know of him. He's Arlong the Saw; a misanthrope who makes a living killing humans. 
"Arlong," he said moments ago to Zeff. "I own the East Blue."
You don't know why he's after Luffy, and quite frankly, you don't care. With your fucking luck, he's after the map, too. 
He can pretend to own the seas all he wants, but what matters to you is that he won't get to the boy, and it's something that Zeff seems on board with if his negotiation tactics mean anything.
So, in silence, you continue with your drinking, content with laying low until one of Arlong's henchmen - one with black hair tied up on each side of his head - appears at your side. 
He leers over your shoulder, the stench of seawater evading your nostrils, and reaches for one of your bottles.
"Hope you don't mind sharing," he chuckles, and for some reason, this gesture pisses you off.
You're not in the fucking mood.
Before his hand can as much as graze the bottle's fine surface, you grip the back of his shirt and all but fling him back from whence he came. The sound of a table breaking behind you interrupts the eerie quietness that's befallen the other patrons, and you get up from your seat to glare at the other fish people.
"Fucking get lost," your voice rings out like an ominous warning across the air of the establishment, rendering everyone mute. Well, everyone except for Arlong, who proceeds to laugh heartedly at the spectacle whereas his other henchman quickly moves to aid his fallen colleague.
"Well, well, who do we have here?" He stands up from the table, two sharp rows of teeth reflecting the light from the restaurant as he grins. "If it ain't the Beast of the East, in the flesh." He tilts his head to the side. "I was expecting someone ... younger."
"I'm retired."
"So I've heard, but someone else seems to think otherwise."
"Well, this 'someone else’ must’ve been mistaken."
"No, no," he wags his 'finger?'. "You see, he was quite adamant that you're back in business. If that is the case, I am owed tribute for the stunts you've pulled."
You quirk an eyebrow, so lowly that it hardly seems to move at all. "Tribute?"
"Half of whatever plunder you acquired during the years you were active," he waves his hand. "And half of what you've acquired as of late."
Capitalism, truly. Seems that not even fishmen can deny its pull.
Your answer is simple. 
"No."
Arlong's grin shapes into a snarl quite easily. "You may have the highest bounty, but it is still I who own the East Blue."
"The sea belongs to no one," you counter sharply. "Not me, and certainly not you."
It's clear that he perceives this as a slight in the highest degree if the downward tug of his lips serves as an indication. "Do you even know who I am?"
"I don't care who you are." Your fist clenches into a tight knot that almost draws blood as you stare him down from across the room; two beasts in their own respective ways. 
"I'm Arlong the Saw."
"More like Arlong the Nailfile." This earns you a growl you're not nearly sober enough to worry about. "Look, I don't care who you are, and I don't care why you're here. The point is, you're not wanted."
You glance over at Zeff. For once, in the time you've known him, he's cautious but allows you to get your words across.
Arlong does not share the same sentiments. "When I learned that Cross-Hairs was here, I expected a woman with fists of irons and eyes sharp as knives. However, all I seem to be presented with is an old captain who does not know how to hold her liquor. It's pathetic, even by human standards."
This time, you're not vocal about your rather ... brutally honest opinions about him. Without breaking eye contact, you reach for your bottle and take a hefty swing from it. It all goes down without pause, and once it's gone, you put it back with enough force to permanently dent the table. Zeff'll be pissed.
Arlong snorts at the display. "I'm not here for you specifically. The boy, Luffy, where is he?"
"Never heard of him,"
"I don't quite believe that."
"Not my problem."
Arlong tilts his head to the side, almost condescendingly. "My informant knows otherwise."
"Your informant seems to know a lot of things," you say, dangerously low. "If you tell me who they are, and I'll pay them a visit myself to set the record straight,"
He chuckles. "There's no need for a visit. He's already here, and he's famished." He snaps his jaws to a nearby table, scaring the patrons into fleeing. "But I don't need the meals from the menu to quench my hunger."
You glance over at the other patrons, seeing the fear in their eyes reflect the light above. You've seen it before; you used to see it back when you were still Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates. People used to quake at the sound of your footsteps, and whisper among themselves. in fear of evoking your wrath.
Back in the day, you lived up to your reputation. You didn't necessarily enjoy installing fear into people's hearts, but it was a means to an end. You were angry, and all that anger manifested itself in the way you acted as a captain. All that fighting, all that beating, all that rage.
Now, when you see the patrons acting like a herd of sheep, you can't help but feel like you're back there. But they're not afraid of you, not this time.
You look back at Arlong. "Find your meal someplace else."
He growls and steps closer. "I'm telling you this, Cross-Hairs, one beast to another. You may be strong, but we both know that you're not strong enough to take me on. Fish men are superior to humans in every single way. Stronger, faster, —"
He gets close enough to grab for your hand and lift it, his face a breath's width from your own. You can smell the stench of salt on him, of raw meat. "— Hungrier. Wouldn't you agree?"
In a flash, you grip your other hand around his wrist, fingers digging into his flesh until you can find the corners of his joints. You relish in the pained expression that crosses his face.
"You're not a beast," you say, not raising your voice a pitch. "You're vermin."
Arlong parts his jaws when the doors to the Baratie burst open. 
"Which one of you is Arlong?" 
You snap your attention to the top of the staircase, and your face drains. Fuck, it's Luffy. Why's he here?
"Who's asking?" Arlong asks, his grip around yours remains tight.
"I'm Monkey D. Luffy. I hear you're looking for me."
Once Luffy descends the stairs, Arlong lets go of you and turns to face the younger opponent. You watch with mild impressiveness as Luffy faces the bigger fish man, and you have to grant him that, he doesn't exhibit an ounce of fear. 
"How'd you find me anyway?" Luffy finally asks.
Arlong snickers. "An old friend helped track you down."
Then, you watch as the big-lipped fish man pulls something out from his bag and it's ... and it's ...
"Heya, Straw Hat! Did you miss me?"
It's fucking Buggy!
Your heart skips several beats before it remembers to start pumping again. He's here. You thought Orange Town would be the last time you saw him, but he's really here. Truth be told, he looks worse for wear; his make-up is all smudged, a bruise forming on the right side of his cheek, and he's been dowsed in seawater.
But it's him. It's him.
Buggy's eyes glance over at you, and the smile that was previously there gets momentarily replaced with an expression you can't precisely pinpoint. "Hey, there," he says, surprisingly demure. "how's it going?" 
You're not nearly sober nor coherent enough to reply.
"Burpy?" Luffy asks surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Believe me it wasn't my first choice either, but these fine fishy folk persuaded me to point them in the right direction, which ain't easy when you don't have any hands."
"How'd you even know how to find me?"
"I told you, I got eyes and ears everywhere."
To your horror, you watch as an ear pulls itself out of Luffy's hat and attaches to the clown's head. That ear was there all along, which means ...
"You were listening all along?" Luffy cradles his hat. "You heard everything?"
Everything, you think to yourself as you feel the blood drain from your face. He heard everything, everything you'd said to Luffy, everything about your whereabouts. Every—
"Everything," Buggy answers. "And that got old quick, 'cause you shidiots got no idea what you're doing. Hey, Lips!" He turns his head sideways to face the fish man who's just returned from aiding his colleague. "How about a scratch behind the old ear, huh?"
"Sorry, honey."
You don't know what compels you, but something fierce does. An animalistic instinct settled in the marrow of your bones, rampant with rage and assertiveness. When the fish man grabs a hold of Buggy and puts him in the bag, you feel the need to get him out. Free him.
You were friends with him once, something even more from your side long ago, and you've tried to kill each other on at least one occasion. Still, that piece of you that remains in your youthhood demands that you get to him before anyone else.
The conversation that takes place between Luffy and Arlong doesn't register with your ears, as all you can focus on is him. Before you know it, the sound of gunshots echoes through the restaurant, and a fight erupts between Luffy's crew and Arlong's.
Truth be told, it all flashes in front of you like pictures from a movie you've seen. All you can recall, with the alcohol still flooding through your veins, is the feeling of flesh between your digits, the sound of cries and painful moans from Arlong's henchpeople as you force them to the side, and the pure adrenaline that muddles all your thoughts of ration.
Before Arlong can even hope to make a grasp at Luffy, you're there to deflect his claws with your wrist. The impact pushes his hand several inches away from your skin, and without a moment's notice, you strike him in the middle of his sternum.
He's knocked several feet back and into a nearby pillar, not enough to completely knock him out, but enough to keep him away if only for a few moments.
He laughs, his teeth bleeding from the gums. "The Beast of the East. I was wondering when I'd finally get to meet you."
You don't say a word, with the primitive instincts overwhelming your rational ones. In a second, you lunge for him, your hand aimed towards his head. Someone, most likely yourself, must have miscalculated because as much as you intend to hit him and maim him and strike him, the most prominent sense that strikes you is not the feeling of blood under your knuckles.
It's pain.
You're in pain.
Arlong manages to hit you with his clawed fingers. The sharp feeling of something piercing the side of your abdomen through your clothes causes an eerie feeling of hurt. You gasp and bend to your knees, clutching your side. Blood paints your palm as you withdraw it. You're bleeding. Fuck, you're actually bleeding. It's not a light cut either, it's several ones, an inch deep each, and they're bleeding profusely.
When was the last time you bled like this?
The collision between your head and something hard knocks you back before you can even hope to register your state properly. The floorboards leave stinging burns across your lower back until a pillar cushions your fall.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"A pity, truly." Arlong taunts, towering over you. "My informant seemed so confident in your skills. How disappointed he’ll be, seeing you crawl like a maggot on the floor."
You know this is a fight you cannot win, not as you are right now, but you don’t care. Pure spite motivates you to do your worst, even if it’s all for naught.
An act produced from pure adrenaline, you jump back to your feet and prepare to pounce at him. An outstretched hand — Luffy's — beat you to it and preoccupied the fish man in the nick of time. He's pulled away from your reach before you can hope to get him, and a familiar feeling of bloodlust in your veins awakens to life after its hibernation.
Hot, boiling.
You want to kill him. 
Maim him. 
Crush him until his bones break. 
Feel the warmth of his blood coat your fingers as you dig into his body, through veins and arteries and flesh. 
You want him dead.
Suddenly, you catch it from your peripheral vision. A bag on the floor that's currently being tossed back and forth amid all the fighting like a ball of yarn between two quarreling cats. A string of curses erupts from the fabric.
He's still here, you remember. Buggy is still here. 
You have the option to leave him at the mercy of the fight between the Straw Hats and Arlong, but something in your body won't let it. Call it instinct, call it sentiment, but you move towards it all the same. Before any man can even touch the surface of the bag, you lunge for it like a flash of light. 
Grabbing the top of the old fabric, you all but yank it from the floor and maintain him in the steady grip of both your hands. 
"Hey, hey!" the voice in the bag calls. "Keep me out of this!"
"Shut up!" You shout back.
The voice immediately quiets down. In the middle of the fight, while you cling to the bag like a sacred object, you can hear him call your name several times, though you don’t answer.
You cradle the bag in the crook of your elbow as someone — doesn’t matter who — kicks your ribs and sends you crashing into a nearby wall. The impact knocks the air out of your lungs and leaves you with stars at the corners of your vision, yet all you can seem to think is ‘keep .... safe, keep .... safe, KEEP .... SAFE’.
You cough several times, static noise filling your eardrums as you crawl back to your feet. The sensation of something warm dribbling down the side of your ribs strikes you, yet your only concern in the midst of the blood loss is to carry that damn bag to safety. 
It doesn’t make any sense. Luffy should be your only concern, but you can't find him, and the core of your being wants nothing more than to just get that bag the hell out of there. 
Why? you think to yourself in a haze, your breath becoming heavier. What’s in that bag again? Why does it mean so much?
You try to get up, but the weight of your body overwhelms you. You stumble and fall back to your knees, dizziness making everything hazy and disoriented, but pure spite motivates you to keep going. At least, it tries to, but sheer will cannot outweigh the body’s needs alone.
Someone calls your name, and as your cheek meets the floor, an image of blue hair invades your vision. Blue hair, soft promises, and tight embraces.
Then, there are scornful glares, a shove against your body, so firm and cold that it’s reminiscent of ice.
“I hate you,” a blurry voice says, so filled with resentment that it reminds you of a knife. “I wish we’d never even met. Go be with him if that’s what you fucking want. What do I care?”
It hurts. It hurts more than your ribs do. It hurts to listen to those words — that voice — as it reverberates through your skull. It hurts so fucking much that you don’t think you can survive it. You feel small, small and vulnerable; like a child stuck in a crowd of people they don't know.
“He- Hey! Are you there?” The same voice - deeper and darker now - calls desperately as darkness starts to cloud your vision. “Come on, get up!”
You can’t tell if this is a voice from inside your head or outside it, but you don’t fight it when the darkness decides to lay claim over you. The same voice calls your name urgently, time and time again, but you can't answer it.
———
Everything hurts. Your body, your arms, your legs, but most prominently, the right side of your body. It’s burning, stinging, fucking carving at you. Whatever you call it. It just hurts.
“You’re awake!”
You barely have time to open your eyes when a warm body presses itself against yours from above. A sting of pain from the side of your body immediately surges through your nerves and you hiss.
“Oh, sorry, sorry!”
When you finally do look up, you see Luffy sitting beside you, a concerned yet hopeful look in those round eyes of his. You blink at him, then shift your head around to see where you are. You’re in your cabin, a blanket pulled up to your midsection, with something wrapped tightly around your stomach under your shirt.
At first, you’re at a loss for thoughts, but it only takes you a moment for everything to fall back into place. You immediately sit up, only to regret it as the pain explodes once more from your wounds.
“Don’t move too much,” Luffy protests and puts a hand on your shoulder to guide you down, but you resist it.
“What happened?” you demand. “How long was I out for?”
“Only a few hours.” Luffy frowns and gestures to your side. “You were badly hurt and lost a bit of blood. Zeff looked over it and managed to stop the bleeding, but he said you’ll need stitches eventually.”
You stare at him for a few seconds before your gaze trails down to your side. Lifting your shirt far enough so that you can evaluate the damage. Crimson-stained bandages greet your vision, under which you can only guess Arlong left his mark. Several marks to be precise, if your memory holds any value.
It’s not the wound itself that fills you with shame, but it’s the fact that you let your own grievances put you and – to some extent – the crew in such a vulnerable position to begin with. 
If only you’d stopped feeling so sorry for yourself, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
“Luffy,” you say softly, not removing your focus from the bandages. “I’m … sorry.”
“For what?” he asks, completely confused.
“… I got distracted.” You slowly swing your feet to the edge of the hammock, the movements warranting more bouts of pain, yet you ignore it. “I … Let my guard down, and it put the crew in danger.”
“I don’t think so.” He says it so casually like he doesn’t find you at fault in the slightest. You don’t know whether deem his forgiving demeanor endearing or naïve to a fault. “You were sad.”
“That doesn’t excuse anything!” You jump to your feet while cradling your side. Luffy immediately comes to your side and offers you a shoulder to lean onto. “You could’ve been killed!”
“I’m fine,” he insists. “And so is Zoro! He’s alive!”
“That’s … good.” Relief floods your body.
“But Nami…” Luffy pauses as he helps you out of the room towards the kitchen. “She went with Arlong,”
You raise an eyebrow, not expecting this. “Why?”
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find her.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
“Well …” he trails off sheepishly, and you’re immediately suspicious. 
It’s not until you finally reach the kitchen that you hear it.
“Hey! Look who it ... is ...”
It’s Buggy … 
His head is on top of the kitchen table. 
———
Taglist:
@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat , @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107 (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))
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saintmuses · 30 days
Text
❝𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙙, 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮❞
Pairing:
Soft!Dark!William Killick x Stepdaughter!Reader
Summary:
William’s stepdaughter went out for a fun night with her girls, ended up dancing with another man at a pub, and came home late.
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Warning(s): Implied dub-con, implied age gap (everyone’s grown). step-cest. Infidelity. Mentions of violence but not towards the reader. Minors, dni!
Word Count: 1.4k
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Upon returning to the cab, Y/N got in, feeling dejected and let down by her poor luck. The ride back to her home was a quiet one, her girlfriends chatting excitedly about their night while she just sat there, her mind filled with all kinds of anxious thoughts.
When she finally arrived back home, she thanked her friends for the ride and said goodbye before rushing inside the house.
She was greeted by silence as she entered the foyer. The house was still, and the only sound she could hear was her footsteps as she walked forward.
She realized that her mother was still out of the house, and William was home due to a few stray beams of light that escaped the living room and gave her a slight amount of light to see the hallway.
Although she saw the light from the living room, which she knew he was watching telly on a new television cabinet that came out earlier this year. She was going to walk past the living room, hoping he wouldn’t call for her.
She bent down to take her heels off her feet before tiptoeing down the hallway and headed upstairs to her bedroom, hoping that he wouldn't notice her. But before she could get too far on the stairs, she heard a voice rang out from the living room and it was William’s voice calling her name.
She bit her lip, knowing that he was anxious since she did not leave him any note of where she was going for a night out. She walked towards the living room, “yeah?” She asked nervously.
When she turned around the corner, she saw her stepfather staring at her with his arms crossed. The look on his face was stern and brooding, as if he was trying to read her mind and figure out what she was hiding.
"Where have you been?" he inquired, his tone strict and serious.
“Dancing.” She said simply. It was harmless.
William tilted his head to the side slightly, “that’s it?” he asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of possessiveness rummaging through his veins. She was dancing with other men in a club, and her behavior was nothing short of provocative. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was up to.
“Yes. The girls called and asked me to join them for a night out. And I decided why not.” She said softly, placing the heels on the first step on the staircase.
"Do you know what men do whenever they see a pretty girl like you?" He pressed, his tone growing sharp. "Are you aware of what kind of men frequent these clubs?"
She bit the inside of her mouth, “apparently that’s the least of my worries.” She muttered; an expression of contempt flitted across her face.
The expression on William’s face darkened even more upon hearing her words. His face twisted into a scowl, his anger growing with each passing moment.
“And why would you say that?” he inquired, his voice demanding.
She chuckled dryly, “they refused to dance with William Killick’s stepdaughter once they realized who I was.” She stared up at him with frustration in her depths.
"Is that what you think?" William asked sarcastically, his tone becoming even more accusatory as his eyes flashed icily. "Do you honestly believe that they refused to dance with you because you are my stepdaughter?"
“Yes, when they’re the ones who heard stories about you.” She hissed; her eyes widened with fury. “Even one of them told me that they were at the pub the night you had hit an older woman while being inebriated, and on top of that you shot a cottage full of people!”
He sighed, running his hand down his face as a clear sign of momentarily distress. Although it happened five years ago, he had hope she would never hear the stories that happened that night because he did not want her to not feel safe around him and selfishly, he did not want any obstacles influencing the bond they had now.
Oblivious to his inner turmoil that was rolling through him, she continued. “After they realized who I am, then they refused to dance with me any longer because they’re afraid of what you’ll do to them.” She murmured, dejected as she twiddled the hem of her dress.
"And can't you blame them?" He asked, his tone becoming harsher with each passing moment. His hands clenched into tight fists, his body starting to tremble with rage. "Do you know how protective a man usually is about his daughter? How he would do anything to protect her and keep her safe?"
“Well, their words were ‘he’s overprotective, I don’t want to get on his bad side’ as if I didn’t know that.” she said dryly.
"Of course, I'm overprotective," he snapped with an angry scowl, "but that's because you mean the world to me. How could I possibly let anyone else have you? Why would I need someone else to protect you, or love you, when I'm right here? When it's my job? My duty? To watch over and care for you?"
She stared at him with wide eyes, she would never think he would get so fired up over the argument they had about her dancing with strangers who evidently knew or heard of William’s episode that night.
Then a sigh escaped from her lungs before moving towards the living room to sit on the couch. “It’s not that. To them I will always be Y/N, the stepdaughter of William, the one they refused to dance with due to your temperament. They can’t see that I’m just a person who’s trying to live my life, and I can’t because I’m your stepdaughter that people refused to dance with.” 
He couldn't even believe what he was hearing right now. The idea that other men would refuse to dance with her simply because they considered her to be his daughter didn't sit well with him. Which also played into his favor. He had no interest in sharing his stepdaughter with anyone else.
"So, you are saying that people would only dance with you if they didn't know who you are?" he inquired, his tone sharper than ever.
“Yes. One did for a short time before they realized who I am.” She said bitterly, dragging her hands from the hem of her dress to fold and crossing her arms as if she was protecting herself against something.
It sent chills down William’s spine to imagine some random man holding her in his arms and caressing her, dancing with her and seduce her all at once. And it only made him more furious to know that someone had seen to that.
“Well, I don’t want them dancing with you either,” he replied in an agitated voice, “I don’t want anyone dancing with you.”
She looked up at him sharply, “what is that supposed to mean?” She asked with wide eyes.
“You heard me,” he replied, his voice dripping with anger. “You’re my stepdaughter, and as long as you live under my roof, you won’t be going out and dancing with other men.”
She had let out a scoff, shaking her head slightly before peering up at him. “And what would happen if I moved out?” She asked calmly. She was of age -had been for a few years now- to move out of her home.
“Then you can do whatever you want,” he replied, the fury in his voice growing stronger. “But you’re not going to leave, are you? Because I am sure as hell not letting you go.”
Unwilling to accept her refusal to abide by his rules, his temperament reached new heights. He couldn’t let someone else have her, not even the other men out there. He wanted her for himself. The one line he had tried to stop himself from crossing was apparently drawn in the sand since it was rapidly disappearing.
He stepped toward her, towering over her as his possessiveness reaching an extreme intensity, “You’re mine. You hear me? Mine."
She inhaled sharply in surprise, swallowing as she craned her neck on the couch to be able to see him clearly. Before she knew it, he bent down to get on his knees onto the floor and dragged her legs towards him across the cushioned furniture which her dress were rumpled and bunched up around her waist in a process, and she yelped when he pushed her legs against her chest, forcing her thighs apart.
His rage was becoming uncontrollable, his anger growing with each passing moment. His fingers were curled into the back of her thighs firmly, as he was about to reach his breaking point. He wouldn’t let anyone take what was his, not even her.
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ravynous · 1 year
Text
﹙★﹚ attention 。
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▌| character/s: leona kingscholar ▌| description: leona wants you to keep your eyes on him.  ▌| warning/s: none ▌| author’s note: this is ... sappy. also unedited, i wrote it at 2 AM while inebriated — there might be a lot of mistakes. ▌| link/s: series masterlist , main masterlist
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Attention was something Leona Kingscholar hadn’t thought about seeking. He received plenty of it already—from his family, the elders, and his peers. Negative or positive, he didn’t care. At least, he thought he didn’t, until the prefect mentioned it.
“Y’know, the way you smile around your dorm members … is cute.” You said, still carding your fingers through his hair, despite the aghast expression he was wearing. Cute. Cute. In what dimension of Twisted Wonderland was THE Leona Kingscholar adorable?! (You’d argue that his tsum was, and he’d reply with how much it was a menace.)
“You’re delusional.”
“Am not!” Once again, his lips quirk up with how quick you defended yourself. You pointed at his face when you caught his expression change — slightly away from his lips, learning from the experience of which he lightly bit your fingertips when you had done this before — and let out an “aha!”
“SEE! I think you only smile, genuinely might I add, around the people you like. A.K.A. your dorm members — and ME!” If anything was cute, it’d be you (and he’d never admit it to your face) — the way you puffed your chest out with pride at your ‘revolutionary’ observation.
“Then, prefect, how the hell did ya come to that conclusion?” The tell-tale sign that he was listening carefully showed in how his ears faced to your direction. Every time though, he’d listen, because with you — there were no expectations, no demands — just his company was enough for you. It makes him yearn to have — no, keep your eyes on him. Always.
You made a dramatic display of preparing yourself to answer his question by stretching your arms and cracking your neck. Leona let a huff of amusement escape him at that.
“You act like you don’t care about your dorm, but I see you at your happiest whenever Savanaclaw, as a whole, succeeds. Also, I just saw you smiling when you gave Ruggie his birthday gift. Softie,” You heard a scoff of disbelief at that statement, “— plus, it’s because your dorm is your pride, in a literal and figurative sense.”
The only reply you got was … silence. And Leona burying his face into your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist. There was only the movement of his tail swishing in the air as you poked his shoulder, along with a gentle nudge and a quiet whisper of “Leona?”
Speechless as he was, he felt giddy (a disgusting way to describe his emotions, he thought) that you were so observant of him. He wished that you'd keep giving him attention, if it meant you’d praise him more like this.
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▌| written by RAVYNOUS — please do not copy, edit, screenshot, or repost any of my works. Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!
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anticanonsposts · 3 months
Note
hiiiiii I loveddd ur post abt high konig, could you maybe write a fic where its the readers first time trying it?
(ur page is like so good i luv it)
hi!!! literally thank you so much, it truly means so much to me that people are enjoying my blog <3333
per request here is a version of a previous fic about König's first time trying an edible and then fucking you silly, now it's the readers turn!!
cw: obvi (legal) drug use, (don't do drugs unless they're legal, safe, and you are of age <3), sex p in v, oral m receiving, porn w/ a little plot, pining, overstimulation, nastiness <3
wc: 2,000+
nsfw below the cut, you know the drill-mdni interact
“Hey König…” you cooed to your boyfriend who was sitting at the desk in your room, flipping through a book while you lounged on the bed. He returns your gaze, brows slightly furrowed, he recognizes your playful tone, knowing you're about to ask him something naughty. 
“I was thinking..” you continue standing up from the bed and making your way over to him, dancing your fingertips across his shoulders. “That I wanted to try having sex…after I take an edible gummy.” 
“Edible? Aren’t all gummies edible?? Ohhhh, like marijuana!” he replies back briefly running in mental circles as he puts the pieces together. His English is obviously very good but sometimes he takes things more literally/more at face value. “Of course I’d need your consent now since you would be inebriated and if you ever want to stop you need to tell me.” he adds taking on a more serious tone, whenever consent was being discussed he had no room for lightheartedness or joking, he took consent VERY seriously. 
“Yes, I am consenting now to have sex with you while you are sober and I am high, and both of us have the option to stop at any point.” you reply, taking his hands in yours.
“Ok.” is all he responds with but he’s smiling so wide and there is a bright gleam in his eyes. He truly loves to try new things with you, especially when it makes you so happy. 
So you go and grab your packet of gummies and pop one into your mouth. Then you suggest a shower to König since it will take about 30 minutes for the edible to kick in. Showering together is always such a treat. You get to be in a nice warm, wet environment while your own personal giant just beams down at you with nothing but adoration and enamor in his eyes. He loved these showers just as equally, his hands never leaving your soft, supple body, constantly pulling you impossibly closer to him. 
After you both got out and dried off, you opted to just stay naked and lay with each other until you initiated more physical contact. He laid down on his back and you were draped on your side, the side of your face resting on his chest, slowly rising and falling. You could tell he was already getting a little worked up, I mean come on you were laying on him completely naked. As more and more minutes passed you felt your brain get a little fuzzy and it sort of felt like everything was moving slower. You realize you are absentmindedly massaging his abdomen with one of your hands you start to feel a buzz in between your legs, only made worse when you look down and see König’s growing dick, now completely pressed against his stomach. His poor tip furiously leaking, he was being so kind and patient with you, waiting ever so tranquil for you to make the next move. 
Now, completely feeling the effects of the edible kicking in your entire body buzzes with excitement. Moving yourself to sit up a bit more, you start tracing kisses along his neck and chest, slow and purposeful kisses. Your inebriated mind could still have cheeky thoughts. You figured, since he was going to be nothing but patient with you, you might as well tease him. Now climbing on top of him, his hands immediately go to your lower half, shamelessly groping your hips and butt. You loved how he was able to grab so much of you with just one of his hands. Giving you soft squishies and gropes and you start to move your hips back and forth, not even realizing what you were doing. 
Then getting a wicked idea, you reposition yourself slightly so that your now puffy and dripping core is gliding up and down his dick. Earning several whimpers from him, his grip on you tightened. Giving him a small chuckle you give him one last sloppy kiss, sloppy enough that when you pull away there is a line of spit connecting your mouths. Shimmying down between his legs with the biggest shit eating grin you have ever given him. You take his length into your hand and start to pump his base gently. Then before he could give any objection that you didn’t have to give him head since you were high or that he could go down on you first if you’d prefer. But you successfully cut him off by leaving open mouthed kisses all along his shaft, purposefully avoiding his ever leaking tip. Giggling to yourself you finally take his head in your mouth, first giving a little swirl of your tongue before bobbing up and down only on his tip while pumping the rest of him. 
His cute face completely flushed, eyebrows furrowed, and panting as he looked down at you. Murmurs of praise leaving his lips, as one of his hands gently came to rest on your head. The sight in front of you just made you giggle more which made him feel more vibrations on his dick. Releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop, still palming his tip you ask, “Does that feel good baby?” in a sing-song voice as you trace kisses up his thigh.
“Oh my god Hase.” is all he can say back. He knows you’re teasing him, he knows exactly what you’re doing, but he cannot will himself to move you faster, its torture, but its blissful torture. You then continued your bobbing, each time taking more and more of him in your mouth and pumping what you couldn't reach with your hand. Snaking your other down, you start to gently massage his balls, and the combination of all these movements causes him to buck his hips into you, which only motivates you. You continue your motions until you hear his breathing get faster and his voice and whimpers grow higher and higher. Then when he warns you that he is about to cum, you speed up even faster, making him absolutely lose his mind. Tasting his cum sputter onto your tongue, you carefully swallow around him, knowing that it drives him insane. But you don’t stop there. 
You pop him out of your mouth and quickly wrap both of your hands around his shaft, pumping him almost aggressively at this point. You also make sure to prop your elbows against his thighs so that he cannot close his legs. 
“Liebe liebe liebe liebe!!!! Please…oh my go—-” is all he manages to get out as his body starts to thrash a bit from side to side, completely overwhelmed with all the stimulation you were giving him. 
“Liebling I came I came please!” he mustered out again, pleading with you, his eyes full of desperation. It hurt so good but it also felt so good. Right now you were nothing but an evil little minx trying to break him down to his very core of desperation. 
Finally, mercifully you stop pumping him, but torture him a little more by licking his dick clean, then tonguing your way up his chest, leaving open mouthed kisses all along his abdomen. 
At this point you were beyond giddy with yourself, very proud of what you’ve been able to do so far, but now of course your core was aching for any sort of stimulation. 
Losing a little bit of his gentle touch, König practically hauls your body up so that you are once again straddling him. His greedy lips pull you in with his mouth and he presses a firm hand to the middle of your back so that your torsos are pressed together. Giving him a mischievous look he quickly says, “No no no, how about you ride my fingers instead first hmmm?” He knew that his dick needed a break and that if he was able to redirect your attention to something else, you would soon get lost in it. Not to mention the fact that he really preferred not to be inside of you so quickly, without giving you a proper warm up. 
Giving him a contented humm he repositions himself so that he is sitting up more. Then, gently he takes two of his fingers and glides them through your folds toying with your clit ever so slightly, using his other hand to hold your hip in place. Finally when he pushed his digits up into you, making you gasp, you just felt so good, too good. Leaning forward, you pressed your chest against his and started to kiss him, moaning into his mouth. Soon you found a rhythm together, you bouncing and grinding into his hand, his other hand guiding you, and your mouths just devouring each other. 
He curls his hands so perfectly so that he hits your g-spot while his palm brushes against your clit over and over again. Feeling yourself get more desperate you pull away from him with a pleading look in your eyes. 
“Do you wanna lay down?” he asks softly, smiling. You do as suggested and lay down on your back, spreading your legs as he kneels in front of you. 
“Please fuck me” you say through half lidded eyes. He could do nothing but rake his eyes up and down your body. You were so perfect and kind to him and he truly liked this experience. Your high state made you more focused on your needs and pleasure. You allowed yourself to feel and react more naturally, and he is loving it. 
Leaning forward he cages you in under his arms, bracing them on either side of you and envelopes your mouth in hungry kisses. After a little whining he finally kisses down your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a gasp as his tip enters you and he slowly eases his entire length into you. 
“Oh my god…fuck König, it feels so good, I feel so full” you murmur to him, faces inches away from each other. In return, he starts to give you slow, dragging thrusts. 
“Would you like me to go faster y/n?” he asks as he uses his fingertips to turn your chin toward him so that you are looking him in the eyes.
“Yes, yes faster please” you reply nodding up at him not breaking the eye contact which just about finished him off right there. But he took a deep breath and sped up his pace, snaking one hand between the two of you to rub circles around your clit. 
After several minutes you cling to his neck and shoulders, letting out a slew of whimpers and moans. 
“Please, please…I’m s’close…please” is all you are able to get out before he gives you a grin and angles his hips so he is hitting even deeper inside of you.
This is what does it for you. Wide eyed, brow furrowed, with your mouth agape you let out the prettiest, hottest moans he thinks he’s ever heard. “Cum around me shatz, please, let me feel you. I’ve got you, I’ve got you just let go.” is all he has to mutter for you to let go. 
“Oh fuck, König! I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming. AA-OOhh my god!” you choke out as he continues his pace and fucks you through your orgasm, now chasing his own high. But for some reason, your orgasm wasn’t stopping, it just kept going, for longer than it normally does. In your drunken state you were still able to connect this to the edible you took. 
“Oh my god shatz, fuck! I’m going to cum darling, where do you want me?” König gasped out, clearly losing any resolve he has left. 
“In me! In me please, I wanna feel you, please cum in me baby please.” you respond although still stuck in the seemingly never ending orgasm you smile through your words. Your smile and half lidded look into his eyes is the last nail in the coffin for him and with a sputter of his thrusts he explodes inside of you, groaning into your ear in the ways that you love so much. 
Then, finally you feel your orgasm start to dwindle down as he slows down his movements, before completely pulling out of you and bringing you to lay on your side next to him.  
“I love you.” is all you are able to whisper to him as he pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms completely around you, legs tangled together, your hands coming up to cradle his face. 
“I love you more.” he replies, pressing his lips to yours once more. 
Needless to say your first time having sex while high was a success, and the two of you will be doing it much more often.
hehe tysm for reading, if you like this don't be shy hehe, check out my other content. also reminder that I am taking requests idc how niche they are, please feel free to ask if there's anything you'd like to see!
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jkbabiey · 1 month
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mess it up • mark lee
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wc: ~1.6K notes: cute little drabble for u guys starring my boi mark lee; all my gracie abrams stans will understand the references ;) it's angsty guys, so... yeah, enjoy!!
"hello?"
it was a little past 3 in the morning when mark was woken up by the ringing of his phone and your name on his screen. he hadn't given in on your first try, nor on the second. it was the third time you called him that night and mark was having a hard time not picking up.
but it wasn't the first time you did this. nor the second.
"hi," you said, your voice whispered and unstable.
you hadn't spoken in the past two weeks or so. not after you decided to play with mark's heartstrings for the millionth time, completely ignoring his undying feelings for you.
as if you had no idea they even existed.
mark and you had met during childhood, by chance, due to his inability to kick a soccer ball in the right direction - it ended up hitting you in the face and chucking your freshly-bought strawberry ice cream straight to the floor. he bought you a new ice cream (mixing up the flavors and buying a bubblegum-flavored ice cream instead). one year later, after you became self-proclaimed best friends, mark showed up by your window with a bucket of strawberry ice cream in his hands and a confession of his love for you in the tip of his tongue, promising to treat you right and to never get your ice cream order wrong again.
nothing ever worked out in mark's favor tho. you were awfully quick to dismiss his feelings, watching the disappointment settle in his eyes. crestfallen he walked back home and that same night, at around 1 am, without your parents knowing, you sneaked out to throw rocks at marks window, proposing to forget about that little bump and spend the night watching movies and eating strawberry ice cream. mark promptly accepted your proposal, letting you in.
that became the one topic neither you nor mark ever touched again. you never acknowledged the intense feelings mark nurtured for you every time you hung out at his or your house, and that became harder and harder for you, because if there was anything mark was awful at doing was hiding any emotion behind those eyes. his eyes never lied, especially when they settled on you and shined like he had never graced a more beautiful star.
so on your 19th birthday, you kissed him on the mouth, absolutely inebriated, after noticing the way he kept marveling at you as you swayed your hips side to side, with those big bright eyes of his. your lips were soft against his and you smiled at him after it ended, just to walk back to your group of girlfriends to keep dancing like you hadn't just kissed your best friend.
mark finally got the guts to bring it up again the day after your birthday, shyly muttering that he didn't think he had changed much from when he was 13 and in love with you. he remembers you just starring at him right in the eyes after the words left him, before your lips tentatively pecked his. right before your hands started wandering through parts of his body no one had ever touched before. right before you took his virginity and made him fall ten times harder for you.
just for you to ghost him for three whole months after it. you stopped answering his texts and calls. whenever mark tried to come to your place it was your mom opening the door and magically you were never home.
and then you called him one random night, crying, asking him to come over. he did. and just like that you were best friends again.
mark would always give you anything you asked from him, including the sudden kisses you stole from him, and the nights of pleasure in the middle of his sheets, from time to time. you took it all. and you took all that while still claiming to be his best friend and nothing more when your friends asked if you two were dating.
"i'm sorry, did i wake you up?" you asked through the phone. mark could tell you weren't home and had been crying.
"well, it is 3 am" he chuckled, trying to ease the nerves he knew were overflowing in your system. you chuckled too, muttering a small 'right'. "are you alright?"
"yeah... are you?"
"yeah."
it was silent after that. all you heard was his calm breathing and all he heard was your quick one paired with the sound of your sniffles. "can i come over?" you whimpered. mark could picture you with tearful eyes, biting down on your bottom lip to keep the cries from erupting.
you heard mark sigh. "y/n," he mumbled. "you can't keep doing this."
it had happened again. the running. it was as if a switch turned in you as soon as mark mentioned any type of love he nurtured for you. and you proved your avoidant nature once again two weeks ago when after a whole night spent in mark's bed, he let out the tiniest 'i love you' as he came inside you. it amazed him how you immediately freed yourself from his embrace after it was over, putting on your clothes in a rush and getting out of his room without saying a word or looking back at his resentful eyes for a second.
"i know mark, i just- please," you cried.
"dude, i'm serious. we've been doing this for years," you said, the anger he felt finally showing in his voice, even though he tried to sound as gentle as possible. "you can't keep giving me hope, just to freak out when i talk about the love you know i have for you. it's not like you're unaware of it. I've told you. and I'll tell you as many times as it takes for you to understand how i feel about you!"
"i know how you feel," you said, your voice wavering and mark closed his eyes at the sound burying his face in the palm of his hand. "i know, but I'm not ready to be what you want me to be. i can't do it-"
"well, you do a terrible job at showing that. you think kissing me is a good way of showing me you want nothing to do with me?"
"that's not-"
"y/n stop! if that's how you feel don't fucking call me at three in the morning asking to come over! just leave me alone."
"but i miss you," you cried, full sobs echoing through the call now. "I'm sorry. i can't stay away from you like that. you're my best friend!"
"that's not what i want to be tho!" he said, tone getting exponentially louder and he had to remind himself his parent were sleeping downstairs. "what do you not get? i want to be your boyfriend," he continued and heard your cries intensifying again. "you can't keep this up." he muttered, voice tired and heavy. "you come and go as you please, literally playing with my feelings. because you know i love you and I'll give you anything you want. you want to come over? fine. you want a kiss? okay. you want sex? I'll give it to you. I'll give you anything and you take advantage of that every fucking time. if you don't feel the same way, please, just stay away. let me get over this because if you just keep coming back i won't ever move on. you'll just keep hurting me."
by now, you could clearly hear mark's voice getting heavy with tears he was probably holding back for your sake.
"i know i never was the best to you. i'm sorry. i'm sorry i made you cry tonight. i didn't mean to," you said, sniffling in the middle of your words. "i love you."
and just like that you hung up. immediately, mark broke down in his bed. his back pressed against his mattress, his hands covering his wet eyes as his chest heaved quickly in the darkness of his room. the last thing he ever wanted was to make you feel bad about anything. he loved you with his whole body and soul and had to struggle with himself to not call you back after your quick 'i love you'. but then he would keep walking in circles and letting you walk all over him once again.
he wouldn't give in. not this time.
he fell asleep with a heavy heart and a pounding head - missing your fourth call.
'pick up dude' - y/n, 4:04 AM
'bro i was actually outside your place this whole time. can u come open the door? let's talk fr' - y/n, 4:05 AM
'pls it's freezing' - y/n, 4:05 AM
'do i have to throw rocks at your window again?' - y/n, 4:06 AM
'fine, i'll just go home then' - y/n, 4:08 AM
'i get that you're very angry at me, but I love you. i'm sorry if i fell out of line when i called you. I want to take this seriously, you'll just have to guide me through it all because I'm very very VERY scared. u know i never had a boyfriend, right? please call me when you see this. pls pls pls call me, even if you hate me and don't want to date me anymore.' - y/n, 4:27 AM
'can't lose you.' - y/n, 4:27 AM
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mcntsee · 10 months
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There was this boy…
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Summary: Y/N shares a tale of her first love with the Crows.
Warnings: Not much other than ooc Kaz and alcohol consumption.
Note: I’m more of a angsty writing typa gal, so here’s some fluff for now. Let me know what you guys think.
In the dimly lit confines of the Crow Club, the Crows gathered around a secluded table, basking in the afterglow of a successful heist. Glasses clinked, and raucous laughter filled the air as the alcohol flowed freely. Kaz, Y/N, and Matthias sat with relative sobriety amidst the drunken revelry, observing their inebriated comrades.
Jesper, his cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming, leaned toward Y/N with a mischievous grin. "So, Y/N, have you ever been in love?" he slurred, barely able to contain his curiosity.
Y/N's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Of course, Jesper," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of mystery. The Crows leaned in, their drunken curiosity piqued.
"There was this boy," Y/N began, her eyes sparkling with memories. "I met him near the harbor when I was just a wide-eyed nine-year-old. He had this mischievous smile and eyes that seemed to hold a million secrets. A captivating presence that drew me in. He was the first person I ever truly loved."
Confusion clouded the faces of the Crows. They exchanged glances, unable to decipher who Y/N was referring to. Only Kaz, ever perceptive, held a hidden smile, understanding the truth behind Y/N's words.
“We were inseparable. We would spend our days exploring the harbor, sneaking into places we weren’t supposed to be. We had a sweet tooth that knew no bounds, and we’d devour candy like it was our secret treasure.” Y/n paused for a second to compose herself from the small chuckle that managed to escape her lips, “Whenever times got tough, we’d help each other steal food, laughing as we escaped the clutches of hunger.”
The Crows listened with rapt attention, their faces reflecting a mix of curiosity and sentimentality. The image of two children forging a bond over stolen treats warmed their hearts.
Y/N’s voice grew softer, her eyes distant. “We shared our hopes and dreams, our fears and vulnerabilities. It was as if we created our own little world, shielded from the hardships that surrounded us. He was my confidant, my partner in mischief, and my first taste of love.”
Nina, her words slightly slurred, leaned closer. "What happened to him, Y/N?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity.
A tender smile played on Y/N's lips as she replied. "He changed. Life took him down a different path, one far from the innocence we once shared." she replied, her voice steady, "but my love for him didn't."
Y/N’s gaze drifted across the table, locking eyes with Kaz, the only one who knew the true identity of the boy from her story.
The Crows, their senses dulled by alcohol, cooed at the sweetness of Y/N's confession, their questions dissipating into laughter and sighs. Meanwhile, Matthias, ever vigilant, noticed the lingering glances between Y/N and Kaz throughout the evening. An inkling of suspicion gnawed at him, planting seeds of curiosity that would bloom in the days to come.
As the night wore on and drinks were consumed in abundance, the Crows bid each other goodnight and stumbled off to their respective rooms.
What they didn't know was that Y/N's steps veered away from her designated room, drawing her toward Kaz's quarters instead. The door closed behind them, and the atmosphere shifted from the revelry downstairs to a more intimate setting.
In the hushed whispers of their shared secret, Y/N and Kaz laughed and marveled at the obliviousness of their companions. They reveled in the fact that the Crows had no inkling that Y/N's tale of first love was a covert homage to their own hidden bond.
As silence settle, Kaz moved from his previous position near y/n. His gaze met Y/N’s, and a mischievous smile played on his lips.
“Care to join me for a moment?” Kaz asked, his voice holding a hint of intrigue.
Curiosity piqued, Y/N nodded, joining him near the record player. The room was enveloped in a nostalgic melody, its soulful notes casting a spell of tranquility.
As the music filled the room, Y/N couldn’t help but remark, “What a lovely choice. I didn’t know you were a fan of this genre.”
Kaz’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “There’s more to me than meets the eye, y/n,” he replied, his voice infused with a touch of playfulness.
They stood there, amidst the gentle hum of music, engaging in lighthearted banter and sharing whispered stories of their day. Their laughter mingled with the nostalgic tunes, creating an intimate symphony that resonated within their hearts.
A comfortable silence settled between them, a testament to the depth of their connection. In that moment, Kaz extended his hand with a gallant gesture, “Care to join me for a dance, Mrs. Brekker?”
Y/N’s eyes sparkled with delight as she placed her hand in his. “I’d be honored, Mr. Brekker,” she replied, her voice filled with a warm affection.
They swayed to the timeless melody, their steps graceful and in perfect sync. The world outside seemed to fade away as they reveled in the simple joy of being together, their laughter intertwining with the music.
In the embrace of their dance, Y/N and Kaz spoke volumes through their movements. Each twirl and sway conveyed a love that transcended words—a love that was hidden, yet tangible.
As the music played on, they allowed themselves to get lost in the moment, cherishing the intimacy they shared. Their smiles spoke of a shared secret, a commitment that only they held dear.
And as the final notes of the song faded away, they remained locked in a tender gaze, their hearts speaking a language known only to them. In that stolen moment, they were reminded of the strength and beauty of their hidden love.
Their laughter resonated in the quiet room, an acknowledgment of the unspoken bond they cherished. They knew that their story would forever remain known only to them, a treasure woven into the tapestry of their lives, while the Crows slumbered, oblivious to the truth that danced in the shadows of their own revelry.
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ceilidho · 5 months
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Your vegas wedding! Ghost did something to me fr. It gave me something I didn't know I needed hahah
Now I need to know more! How did they end up getting married? What will reader do now? And how are the boys going to react?? I need answers 😭
Anyways, your writing is amazing! I found you through your bear shifter! Price fic and I've been hooked ever since ♡
awww thank you so much 😭😭 i'm surprised by how many people enjoyed that au - i never really know which ones are going to hit and which are going to kind of fall by the wayside.
i didn't flesh out the idea very much because i never intended it to be an actual fic, i just really enjoyed the idea of the reader waking up the next day with the deed already done lol. i looooveee writing moments of revelation or first encounters.
but the vague idea in my head was that Ghost was some heavy in between jobs (like a hitman/bounty hunter type of guy; even more of a lone wolf than in canon, but maybe still works as a sort of "collective" with the rest of the 141) who'd just finished up a job in vegas. I imagine he was probably getting a drink in the same bar as you and your friends, though a lot less inebriated lmao (i really struggle to picture Ghost ever getting drunk?? there's a really popular Ghoap fic called Poison Apple where the author describes Ghost as this very controlled, disciplined man who will only have one drink and that's it, because he's the one in control, and wooowww that's soooo how i see him).
i feel like reader probably got pretty drunk, yknow typical for a night out with friends, and caught his eye and actually approached him instead of the other way around and maybe spent the next hour flirting and talking to him (like. TO him lmao, like just chatting chatting chatting while Ghost is content to hang back and just listen, vaguely amused) before finally giggling something like "wouldn't it be funny if we just got, yknow, married? in vegas and all?" and i think it's the first time in awhile that Ghost just does something on a whim lol.
i'm so glad you enjoyed the bear shifter price fic!!!! i'll have more coming soon whenever i get my ass in gear and finish up part 3 of the ikea soap idea lmao!!!
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xythlia · 4 months
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— NEON MOON
⤿ 2k event req for moje láska @darksisterswielder <3 I luv ur toji brainrot & im more than happy to keep it going mwah :3
mdni. possessiveness/jealousy + semi public. f!reader. bar scene. scammer reader & toji. emotional manipulation. reader likes playing mind game with him. creampie. readers in a skirt.
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He hates that you're the brightest thing in this grimy hole in the wall bar. He hates seeing you drape yourself against this oblivious dolt, hates hearing your glittery laugh drift over to him knowing he's not the cause of it this time.
Its supposed to be the easiest ruse in the book: distract and flatter someone who looks far too inebriated to catch on, wait for the right moment to slip your hand in his pocket for a wallet, and then flit off with some excuse to enjoy more drinks and dinner on the oblivious suckers dime before they realize all their cash was snatched under their nose.
So just what the fuck did you think you were doing?
Tojis grip on the bottle in front of him tightened dangerously, the glass miraculously holding out against the pressure as his jaw tightens. He's trying not to look, staring would tip off the bar flies around him at the counter, but you're making it a superhuman effort every time you touch that guy a little too much, laugh a little too earnestly.
Before he can consider the action he's already up, stool of ripped upholstery shrieking backwards from the sticky bartop and he's too focused on you to notice the raised brows of the few other patrons as he stalks over to you.
You, all over this no name fuck like you really want to know him. It just makes his internal pressure worse seeing you grin at him, narrowing your eyes as he grasps your upper arm a little too firmly, pulls you into his side a bit more forcefully than necessary.
Are you fucking enjoying this?
Tojis got every instinct to beat this sap bloody, but for a brief moment he regains control and opts to drag you out into the cold air of the night instead, ruse be damned.
"I was in the middle of something, you know," you snap, grasping his forearm and bringing you both to a halt inside the little side alley behind the bar.
Its the way your fingers subtly rub against his skin that tells him this is some weird game for you, that you're fucking with him and getting him wound up for the sake of it.
"And now you're not," he says bluntly, pushing you against the frigid brickwork. "What the hell was so funny in there anyway?"
You giggle again, enjoying this way too much as your eyes scan his face, that smirk returning to your features as his breathing turns harsher than usual.
"Oh you know, I kinda wanted to see if he could work me the way he said."
Its enough to make him see red.
"But why the hell do you care? Isn't this all "casual"?" You mock in air quotations.
And sure, that's what you both said every time you'd end up with each other at the end of a night or whenever you'd pull small time scams like this but knowing he wasn't the only one to see you, want you, made something tighten in his gut. Something he really didn't like to scrutinize too closely.
Without a word one calloused hand cradles the back of your head, the other keeping you caged against the bricks as he captured your lips in a searing kiss.
For your part you know everything that's in that kiss, can practically taste the insecurity and the naked plea he'd never be able to force out of his throat. But it's alright, because at the same time you know it means everything and nothing at all. He's not a man of grand promises or declarations.
What you don't know is just how territorial he really feels towards you, how often he finds himself in this position but rarely lets himself act on it. He knows you like your fucked up little games, and often chooses to ignore your efforts to wind him up. But goddamn you could wind him tighter than a spring most nights with just a sideways glance.
If asked he'd probably say it's because you're the best lay he's ever had, something gruff and vulgar just to make sure you don't feel too self important and so nobody really picks up on the internal chaos you sow in him. And while that's objectively true, you had this same effect on him well before he ever threw you on his bed and had you clawing at his back.
His lips move to devour the side of your neck and you can feel how hard he is, fingers sliding through his hair and tugging as his teeth graze your skin. Its almost a shame he's not the kind of guy to put on this show in front of anyone, but it's satisfying for you nevertheless.
Eagerly you stroke your palm against his erection through his pants, adrenaline and arousal shooting through your blood like an injection at the way he groans against your jaw. The air no longer feels artic against your skin, if anything you're surprised it's not steaming off you as you start sinking to your knees on the filthy asphalt.
Before you get too far he's stopping you, pressing his chest to yours a little harder, urging you to wrap one leg around his hip as his fingers clumsily push your damp underwear to the side and rub forcefully against your clit.
The stimulation catches you off guard, like being given ever so slight electric shocks as the calloused pads of his fingers slide over your clit, his mouth hot over yours in a kiss that's all tongue, teeth, and desperation. It strokes your ego in a similar way to him stroking your cunt, making you wetter as he pulls away to fumble with his waistband.
The real prize of the games you play with each other is this: feeling him lining up with you, the girth of his head pushing your walls apart as every subsequent inch of him slides inside you and makes your mouth drop open as the pain of the stretch gives way to intense pleasure.
His pelvic bone smacks against you rhythmically, body feeling like it's on fire with the need to keep your soaked cunt clamped around him, how overwhelming it feels to be inside you every time. His other hand comes to grab the nap of your neck, forcing you to keep your eyes on him as his forehead rests against yours.
"Think he could've fucked you like this?" He grunts out and his gaze makes you feel more pinned to the wall than anything. But he doesn't let you answer, focusing his fingers again on rubbing your aching clit and drinking down every moan and whimper you let out against his lips while he splits you open.
What he wouldn't give to have that limp fucker watching you two right now.
The thought spurs him on, thrusts getting harder and sloppier, taking every ounce of self control to not immediately cum when he feels your walls squeezing him in a stranglehold, the way your pussy sucks him back in with every thrust and obviously aching to milk him for everything he's got to give.
And give he does, only holding out for a few more particularly brutal thrusts that have you mewling and digging your fingers into his shoulders before flooding you with thick spurts of cum. He fucks through his own orgasm, swallow erratic thrusts as he glances down, feeling nearly dizzy at the way your body takes him and the creamy ring of white at the base of his cock.
His grip on your thigh tightens, a smug smile painting his features.
Only fair that the prize for your weird little game is being forced to walk home with his cum dripping from your pussy.
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