#I actually teared up writing this bit for some reason. god know's why

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.

[squarebracketsmileyface]

Working on Chapter 3 of My Girl, My Girl, My Girl whooo

I've got about five and a half pages down since this morning, which is good. It's a fair amount of dialogue though, so it probably looks more than it actually is.

Anyway have midnight conversations between the lovebirds about their exes

[moonstruckme]

I am clean from sh for about 6 months now (yay me) and lately, idk why, I’ve just kinda been struggling with accepting my scars and the fact that I’ll have them probably forever and your writing is really comforting and actually helps, so I wanted to ask if u could maybe write something with Spencer helping reader feel ok with having them on reader‘s thighs?

totally understand that that’s a touchy topic and if u don’t wanna write it, I also completely get it, thanks anyway for even reading this xxx

Ahh yay you!!! Congrats baby, and thank you for requesting <3

cw: past self harm, some nudity that's really not sexual but they joke about it a bit

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re sweltering. D.C. doesn’t usually get very warm, but for the last week you’ve been on a streak of record-breaking temperatures that’s made your clothes stick to your skin and has caused even your perpetually chilled boyfriend to refrain from putting on his cardigan until he gets inside his work each morning. Just walking between your car and various air conditioned buildings is enough to make you consider moving to the Arctic. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping inelegantly down on the bed to peel your jeans off. “Can we turn the A/C down to sixty, please?” 

“Let’s start with seventy,” Spencer negotiates. You hear his footsteps stop halfway down the hall as he adjusts the monitor. “I think we still have some lemonade left, if you want some.”

“Ugh, yes.” You tear your jeans off your ankles with enough force to nearly send them flying across the room and sigh blissfully as the A/C kicks on. 

You change out of your sweaty shirt too, going for your pajamas despite it being hours from darkness falling. You have no plans to go out into that hellscape again until tomorrow. You hesitate over a pair of pajama shorts before slipping on loose pants instead, not quite as cool but still light enough to allow some air flow. 

“I love you,” you tell Spencer when he passes you your lemonade as you come into the living room, sitting beside him on the couch. Ice clinks inside your glass, which is already forming little beads of condensation. You have the urge to rub it on your face. “I mean, unconditionally, but especially right now.” 

“I’ll take it,” he jokes back, tilting his head back so his face is in the path of the A/C vent. When he looks up, he finds you pinching up the fabric of your pants around your knees, trying to create a pathway for the air to move up your legs. “Why are you wearing those?”

You know what he’s asking you, and you intentionally misunderstand. “I felt like it was pajama time. No way am I going outside again today.” 

“Right, but aren’t you warm?” Spencer tilts his head. He looks like a particularly cunning puppy, brown eyes soft and inquisitive.

“A little,” you admit. 

“Then why not wear something shorter?” 

“That’s awfully forward of you.” You do your best to give him a smile. It doesn’t stick around long in the face of your boyfriend’s serious expression, increasingly worried. “Maybe I don’t feel like parading my legs around for you.” 

You can see the cogs turning in Spencer’s brain, and the usually fascinating process is suddenly almost painful to watch. You know he’s thinking of what you refusing to wear shorts used to mean, how nobody ever thought anything of it because, again, D.C. doesn’t tend to get very warm. How evasive you were about it then, too. An uncomfortable weight settles in your stomach. 

“Is there a reason you don’t want them out?” he asks, and his voice is gentle but his gaze is unflinching. 

You try to hold it as you shake your head. “I’m still clean.” The words seem to take more air than they should. Your guilt and embarrassment are enough to choke on. “I promise.” 

Spencer nods. “I believe you.” 

His eyes don’t so much as twitch down to your covered thighs. Relief like a cool breeze passes through you. It’s no small thing, his trust in you. Not after you’d gone so far out of your way to hide the evidence of your hurt from him before. 

“But it’s still related to that, isn’t it?” He lifts his glass, taking a sip before wiping the corner of his mouth. You almost smile, picturing your boyfriend in an interrogation room asking questions with this same gentle tone and wide open, curious expression. You don’t think Spencer could ever be harsh. 

“Yeah,” you say. What felt like something private and humiliating a minute before you suddenly want to share with him. Spencer tends to have that effect on you; he makes divulging your most gut-twisting secrets feel natural and easy. “My scars just haven’t gone away. I don’t really want to see them.” 

Spencer’s mouth pinches. “You know they won’t ever fully go away, right?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh, but it doesn’t feel like letting anything out. “I know.” 

“They will probably fade, though.” His fingers circle your ankle loosely, calluses skimming softly over your achilles tendon. “Is it that you don’t want to see them, or you don’t want me to?” 

You rub your lips together. Shrug. “Both, I guess.” 

He tilts his head. Like your answer is expected, but nonetheless perplexing. “I don’t care if I see them,” he says. His hand coasts up your leg, over the fabric of your pants, until he grasps it by your knee. “Can I?” 

You nod. You know he’d let it go if you said no, but it’s not worth begrudging him. “Sure.” 

Spencer brings both hands to the fabric at your hips, and you lift your bum up off the couch as he pulls downwards. Your legs are happy to breathe, the cool air coming out of the vent even nicer than you’d thought it would be. Spencer keeps going until your pajama pants are balled up underneath your feet. 

“You really were hot,” he says. It’s neither teasing nor gloating, a simple statement of fact. His fingers come to rest at your ankle again, and it’s the only kind of warmth you’ll allow. “Is it actually worth it?” 

You look down at your thighs. Your skin feels better than it had covered up, but it’s also a physical reminder of things you’d rather forget. “I don’t know,” you reply. 

“I understand why you don’t like them,” Spencer says. When you look up, you expect him to be as stuck on your scars as you are, but he’s looking at your face. His stare is calm and unmoving, like they don’t command his attention the way they do yours. “But I think they may be with you for a while. It might help to start trying to get used to them.” 

You blow out a breath. “I want to.” 

“I know,” he says. Easily, the way he’d said I believe you. And you think that he probably does know. Spencer has things from his past he can’t fully leave behind, too. 

His forefinger moves slowly up and down the back of your ankle, an absentminded gesture for him and a comfort for you. Slowly, his eyes dip down to your legs. You fight the urge to squirm and hide. 

“You know,” he muses, “there’s actually one thing I sort of like about seeing them.” 

Your top lip starts to curl automatically, your brows pulling together. “What?” 

“Just, that they’re old.” Spencer seems not to have noticed your reaction. His gaze is contemplative. “I mean, it’s not that I’m looking for them all the time or anything, but it’s nice to see them and know there aren’t going to be any new ones. These ones will fade, and then that will be it.” 

Something new clogs your throat. It’s just as heavy as before, but far kinder. 

Spencer looks up at you. He looks sheepish, the corner of his mouth uptilted self-consciously. “Sorry, it’s a weird line of thinking. I don’t want you to think I’m always checking on them.”

“No,” you swallow, “I get it. That’s nice, Spence.” 

He shrugs. “It’s the truth.” 

You could almost laugh. He makes things so simple. “I’ll change into shorts.” 

“You don’t have to,” he says. “If you’re already cooling off.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You keep your voice light, grinning at him as you shuffle over to straddle his lap. His fingers brush over a couple of the lines on your thigh as he brings them around your back, and the sensation doesn’t make you feel as shuddery as usual. You hug him with your arms around his neck. “You’re cool with me just staying like this then? No pants?” 

“Not if you don’t want to wear them,” he says agreeably. 

You laugh and hug him harder. “Thanks,” you tell him sincerely. 

Spencer only makes a soft dismissive sound as he hugs you back. 

[python333]

task force 141 reacting to [reader] giving them a 'happy father's day' card — python333

— — — —

synopsis you give the tf141 boys some happy father's day cards!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & younger!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], reader is intended to be around 16/17-20/21 but can be interpreted as older as long as they're below 24 (just so that the headcanons make more sense), maybe ooc?

note i'm so sorry but there's no gaz in this one BUT i can explain why!! i was doing my research (going through three different tumblr posts) to figure out the actual age of each character and gaz is apparently 24?? in new updates or whatever?? anyway, even before i found that out, i could only ever imagine writing him as an older brother, simply because he doesn't feel fatherly to me but still has those protecive-familial vibes so if yall want me to write something on him being ur older brother then feel free to request/reply/comment or whatever and i will! :3 this is all comfort no hurt and pure fluff so enjoy!!

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ OH GOD.

➥ man i don’t even have daddy issues and i’m crying.

➥ gives you that one dad smile he has—y’all know the one. don’t pretend you don’t—and thanks you for it.

➥ gives you a lil hug too because why not?

➥ tears up just the tiniest bit but it’s pretty unnoticeable but i need you to know that it’s there.

➥ either keeps it propped up on his desk, in one of the drawers of his desk, or puts it in a small frame and puts that on or in his desk.

➥ definitely reads it at least once a week.

➥ he’s so genuinely flattered by it i think that after you leave his office he’d tear up a bit.

➥ you thought he was acting as a father figure to you before?

➥ be prepared for him to take it to a whole nother level.

➥ starts getting you cheesy birthday cards after you start giving him father’s day cards.

➥ is he a father biologically? no. is he one mentally, emotionally, and spiritually? absolutely.

—

You were reasonably pretty nervous.

It wasn’t ever really a secret that you and Price had some sort of father-child-like relationship, what with the amount of hair ruffles, head pats, shoulder pats, etc. that you’d received from him and the swatting at his hand with your own that you had given back. But none of that took away the nervousness you had when you gave Price a father’s day card for the first time.

It’s not that you thought that he would be weirded out by it, you just had a small habit of overthinking things, and this happened to be one of those things. The card didn’t say too much inside of it, a simple ‘happy father’s day!’ and a sentence you wrote that mentioned that you were grateful to know him. That’s it. That’s all it was. And yet, your hand shook as you held it, the other hand knocking on the door of Price’s office.

He nodded in greeting and opened it, and stepped out of the way to let you walk in and sit in front of his desk. He sat at his usual seat after shutting the door, and you set the card in your lap, not wanting him to see it just yet.

“Is there any particular reason why you wanted to come into my office?” Price asked, breaking the silence. You took a deep breath and nodded before you quickly handed over the card, slipping it onto his side of the desk. He took a good look at it for a moment, reading the ‘happy father’s day!’ on the front and looking over the cheesy illustration on the cover. You anxiously waited for him to say something as he simply stared at it, before he picked it up and opened it, reading the short few words that were written on the inside.

You watched as his expression melted into a softer one, and he stared at the card for another moment before wordlessly getting up. Before you could say anything, or question anything, he knelt down to the level of the chair you were sitting in and hugged you. You were frozen with surprise before you hugged him back, loosely wrapping your arms over his shoulders, a little confused by the hug but appreciating the embrace nonetheless. He rubbed your back for a quick moment before standing back up straight and patting your shoulder.

”Thank you,” He said, smiling down at you. “I really appreciated that, kiddo.”

Oh, wow. I don’t know why, but I think I might start crying. “Yeah—yeah, of course,” You’d replied, quickly getting up and giving Price a quick hug before swiftly walking to the door, “I’ll just, uh, I’ll be in my room. Or, actually, no, I’m gonna go—I’m gonna go bother Soap in his office, so if you need me I’ll be in there okaybyeCaptainI’llseeyoulater!” You rushed out, not looking back as you closed the door behind you.

Price had blinked at the door for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and sitting back down in his chair, looking at the card you’d given him one last time before sighing and letting himself tear up a bit. Eventually, after just sitting there and staring at the card, he unlocked one of the few locked drawers at the bottom of his desk and put the card there, for safekeeping.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ he’s so excited when he reads that card.

➥ he’s so flattered?? and is so happy?? and oh my god he might pass out?? from all the positive emotions he feels??

➥ be careful with what you say because you might break him beyond repair.

➥ it’s like you’ve given a puppy it’s first treat, honestly.

➥ won’t cry but is very close to!!

➥ will definitely show off the card to everyone.

➥ when i say everyone i mean EVERYONE.

➥ he will talk everyone’s ear off about it, no matter who they are or what they’re doing, hell, the man could be pissing with his dick out at the urinals and everything and he’ll still be ranting to the poor soul in the bathroom about what a sweetheart you are and how you gave him a father’s day card.

➥ he starts calling you ‘lamb’ and ‘duckie’ after the whole ordeal.

➥ no i didn’t ask chatgpt for terms of endearment scottish parents use for their children haha!!

➥ he buys a corkboard just to pin the card to in his office.

➥ like it’s literally just in the middle, nothing else on the corkboard, just that singular father’s day card.

➥ the whole thing is just reserved for father’s day cards tbh. he hopes to fill it up with as many cards as you’ll give him, and if you only give him the one, then damn it, the corkboard’s only gonna have one thing on it and whoever questions it can mind their damn business.

—

You didn’t really know what to expect with Soap when you gave him the card.

You felt pretty confident giving it to him, knowing the guy could probably receive a rock with googly eyes on it from you and still cry tears of joy knowing you gave it to him of all people, so giving this card to him was no big deal, right?

You found him in the recreational center, lounging on the couch, reading a book—shocking, I know—and quietly reading the words out loud to himself. The moment you had entered the center, though, he looked up from his book and nodded in greeting at you with a smile on his face and watched as you walked over to him.

Before he could say anything, you quickly put the card in his lap and watched as he looked up at you, a surprised and amused expression on his face.

“What’s this?” He asked, not looking down at the card just yet.

“Read it,” You’d insisted, gesturing towards the card in his lap. He blinked at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and looking down at the card. He picked it up and read the three short words on the front and looked over the illustration on the cover, and the moment the words registered in his brain, his face broke out into a grin and he looked up at you.

“Aww, this is sae sweet,” Soap gushed, “Thank ye!”

He got up before you could talk and hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit, cooing, “Ye're jist the sweetest, ma God, when did ye get the card?”

“I got it a while ago,” You had admitted, “Decided to give it to you now.”

Soap set you down and put both of his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumb, looking down at you with an elated grin, "I'm gonnae hang this up in ma office—I'll get a corkboard an' everything, jist for this."

You looked up at him with a confused, but amused look on your face, asking, “And you’re just gonna hang that card on there?”

He nodded in confirmation and responded, “Aye, it'll be deid center, naething else on there."

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ oh my goodness.

➥ the moment you hand him the card, it’s like he already knows what it is without reading it.

➥ probably thinks it’s a joke at first.

➥ when he realizes that you’re serious he straight up tears up.

➥ like in front of you and everything he’ll tear up.

➥ “... Are you crying?” ghost, tearing up and literally about to start sobbing, "No.”

➥ he treasures that thing and would literally cease to exist if he ever lost it or if it got destroyed.

➥ won’t flaunt it at all, instead he keeps it in the pocket of a jacket he never wears anymore.

➥ if you ever give him more cards, he’ll consider getting a box to keep them in.

➥ he’s always called you ‘kid’ but after this he starts calling you ‘kiddo’.

➥ THERE’S A DIFFERENCE. I CANNOT TELL YOU WHAT IT IS BUT THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.

➥ listen kiddo is more affectionate and its softer and its not as playful as kid its more personal and and and [explodes]

➥ the others notice the small change in behavior he has towards you (being more lighthearted with his teasing, generally being less cold with you, etc.) and will tease him endlessly about it.

➥ by others i mean soap and gaz. those two team up and tease him to death.

➥ he could care less though!! he tells himself that they’re idiots anyway and that his behavior hasn’t changed that much.

➥ he’s in denial and i think that him and me are the same fr.

—

You had practically searched every corner, crevice, nook, and cranny of the base searching for Ghost. When you finally found him, he was in the armory and weapons room cleaning the barrel of his rifle, hyperfocused on wiping away the gunk on the gun. You stopped by the door, hesitating in giving him the card. It really shouldn’t be that hard, You thought, What’s the worst that could happen?

You were aware that there were many things that could happen, most of which were bad, but you ignored them for the sake of building up your confidence to give him the card. You stood there for a while, just sort of staring at him, before he—not even looking up from his gun—called out to you with a simple yet firm, “Do you need something?”

You probably could’ve died right there, his firm voice almost completely shattering your confidence for reasons you couldn’t specify, but you instead cleared your throat and walked out of the doorway and completely into the room. You walked over to him and before he could ask any further questions you held the card out to him, your hand having a small tremble to it, an uncomfortably visible display of your nervousness.

He stared at the card for a moment before setting down the cloth he was using to clean his gun and grabbing it, reading the front for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and looking up at you to tease you for it. He was going to tell you what a ‘funny’ joke it was, to tell you to just go do whatever work you’re probably skipping out on when he sees the look on your face that tells him that you’re pretty serious about the card.

He looked back down at the card and read it again, the words ‘happy father’s day’ echoing through his mind as he opened it. He read the few short words on the inside of the card and the shitty drawing of a ghost right next to one that was scribbled out—because of course you had to use pen and weren’t satisfied with the first ghost you drew even though Ghost could make out through the scribbles that they practically looked the same.

You were pretty nervous the longer the silence stretched out, and you were about to take back the card and go jump off a cliff to avoid ever looking at Ghost again when suddenly you hear a sniffle.

“Are you… are you crying?” You’d asked, more confused than nervous now, watching as Ghost shook his head negatively and continued to stare at the inside of the card.

“No,” He answered, sniffling again.

“... You sure?” You’d asked again, far less nervous now, your tone becoming more teasing.

“Positive.” Ghost said firmly, though his voice had wavered a bit. He looked up at you and reached his hand up to give you a pat on the shoulder, muttering, “Thank you for that, kiddo.”

"Yeah, no problem," You had said back, smiling down at Ghost before taking a step back, "I'll leave you to keep cleaning your gun, or whatever."

Ghost had simply nodded and looked back at the table where your card and his gun laid, and you didn't stay long enough to watch him tear up all over again at the sight of the letter.

[froggiewrites]

hey, congrats on 100 followers! i love the way you write zoro and sanji and the final chapter of "picture you" has me craving some zoro x reader x sanji smut. could we maybe get a taste of that, please? 🙏

I've been thinking about writing a threesome for Sanji and Zoro since I finished Picture You, but I was nervous to try it, so thank you for giving me an excuse to push myself out of my comfort zone a bit 😊 I hope you enjoy it!

Two for One

Pairing: Zoro x Reader x Sanji

NSFW

Summary: Sanji and Zoro have been fighting even worse than usual lately for reasons beyond your comprehension, and everyone else is growing sick of it. Once you finally figure out why, you decide you three are all going to solve this together. Warnings: Smut, Clueless Reader, Canon Typical Zosan Fighting, Praise Kink (if you squint) Word Count: 3.2k

“Shut the hell up, mosshead!”

“Only if you get out of my goddamn face, you damn cook!”

Your crewmates were moments away from tearing each other’s throats out. They always were, of course, but the tension had grown so thick lately it was almost hard to breathe in the same room as them. You have no idea what caused them to turn into rabid dogs, constantly barking in your ears, but it was absolutely unbearable.

“Will you two stop?” Nami smacks them both softly upside the head, glaring harshly. “Don’t make this our problem. Look around, you two. Look at what you’re doing.” There’s something behind her words you can’t quite make out, and both of their gazes turn specifically to you, taking in your tense shoulders and the way you’ve begun to hunch in on yourself a bit. The tension eases slightly as they both slump a little with shame, before Sanji quickly grabs your hands.

“I’m so sorry, my dear. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. The brute and I will stop now. “

“Brute?” Zoro snaps. “You little–” He looks at your face before stopping, letting out a huff, and storming out.

Sanji reluctantly lets go of your hands when a timer goes off in the distance. “Well, duty calls, angel.” He skitters off into the kitchen.

The rest of the crew lets out a relieved sigh. Brook places a skeletal hand on your shoulder. “Good luck with that.”

“What?”

Robin and Franky chuckle, like this is a joke you aren’t in on, and Nami sighs. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what exactly?”

“Oh my god.” She sighs, resting her head in her hands. Everyone else laughs again, slowly filing out and patting her on the back, silently designating her with the task of explaining.

“What is it? What don’t I know?”

“The reason they’ve been fighting. You haven’t noticed a pattern at all?”

You think back to all of the most recent arguments you’ve witnessed, and you can’t think of a single thing that connects them. One about who was more handsome, one over who was stronger, and, strangely, one over who was better at fishing, which is something you didn’t think either of them were particularly invested in. “They’re the same stupid fights they’ve always been, just worse.”

“Not…exactly. Think harder. Have you walked in on any fights recently? Or have they always started when you’re there?”

You’ve been unfortunate enough to witness the rising tension firsthand every time recently. “I’ve been there for all of them. It’s sucked.”

“So you’ve been there for every single one.”

“Well I don’t know if they’ve fought when I’m not around. I’m not there.”

She sighs deeply. “I–okay. That’s fair actually. If I told you they barely ever fought when you weren’t around, would that help at all?”

You narrow your eyes, puffing out your cheeks slightly in thought. “It’s…my fault.”

“Yes?”

“They’re…mad at me.”

“Wait–”

“They hate me.”

“No! Oh my god. They’re fighting over you. Because they’re in love with you.”

Your eyes widen, jaw going slack against your will. “What?”

“You really never noticed? Why do you think Sanji insists on dragging you to the kitchen and slowly rolling up his sleeves directly in front of you, and constantly unbuttoning his top button? Or why Zoro insists on training in front of you, or doing push ups with you on his back?”

You pout. “They’re my friends and they wanna spend time with me?”

Nami hesitates at that. “Okay, um. Yes. That too. But they only do it with you. Sanji hates letting other people into the kitchen that much. And Zoro hates being bothered when he’s training. They’re trying to show off. They want to show off how strong and cool they are, because they want you to fall at their feet and beg to have sex with them.” She sees your eyes dim a bit at that, so she quickly corrects. “They want you to like them, is the point. I mean they definitely also want the sex, but really they just want you, and the idea of the other one getting you first pisses them off.”

You blink. “Oh.” You shift, eyes narrowing in thought. “So…they want to have sex with me.”

“Yeah. A lot.”

You think for a moment, wondering how you could possibly choose between the two of them. Your dear friends, your dear, wonderful, handsome, sexy friends. “What do I do now?”

“You pick one, I guess.” Nami sees the frown on your face, and you can see the realization sink in. “Or…you don’t?”

“Do you think they’d be okay with that?”

“For anyone else? No, probably not. I think their pride would get in the way. But for you?” She smirks. “I think they’d do anything you wanted, and they wouldn’t even have to think for a single second about it.”

“I wouldn’t want to push them into anything they’re uncomfortable with.”

“You think they of all people could be pushed into anything they’re uncomfortable with?” She laughs. “I promise you, they wouldn’t. Just go ask. I think you’ll be happy with their response. And the rest of us won’t have to listen to their stupid dick measuring contests anymore.”

You leave the kitchen, steps lighter and filled with determination. Your extremely hot and wonderful friends want you, and you want them. You have great things ahead of you.

Zoro is up in the crow’s nest training, shirtless and sweating, which seems to be his default state. He sees you out of the corner of his eyes, and his next slash is particularly strong and dramatic. He even looks back to see how you react. How did you not notice the way his eyes lingered on you before?

“Hey Zoro?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you meet me in my room in about an hour? I need to talk to you.”

His eyes absolutely light up, even if his face remains neutral. “Hm? Yeah, sure, I can do that.” When he thinks you aren’t looking, he has the smuggest smirk you’ve ever seen on his face. He thinks he’s won. And he has, in a way.

You wander to find Sanji in the kitchen next. “Sanji?”

“Yes, my love?” He gives you an affectionate smile before returning his attention back to the onions he’s chopping.

“Can you meet me in my room in an hour? I have something important to talk to you about.”

He doesn’t try to hide the way he lights up, giving you a heartstopping smile. “Of course, angel! I won’t keep you waiting!” He starts humming a love song as you leave, affection written clearly on his face.

And then you wait. A few times you wonder if this is a bad idea, if it will make them hate you, but you reassure yourself that Nami would have told you if it would fail. She wouldn’t let you walk into a trap like that. You bounce your leg anxiously as you wait for your friends to arrive.

Sanji is first, of course. He shows up exactly an hour from when you talked, down to the second, an offering of your favorite drink in hand. “Hello, darling. I brought something for you!” His smile is so excited you almost feel bad for not letting him know the rest.

“Thank you, Sanji. That’s so sweet.” You take it gladly, taking a grateful sip and letting the flavor wash over you.

“So what did you want to talk about?” He’s leaning closer, longing clear on his face, but you hold strong instead of kissing him senseless like you want to.

“I can’t start until we’re all here.”

“We? All?”

Zoro opens the door nearly immediately after, joy clear on his face before it sours at the sight of Sanji. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“Darling, why is this bastard interrupting?” Sanji is glaring at him, putting himself between you two as though he’s protecting you.

You set your drink down on a table before regarding both of them. “I need to talk to both of you. …If you’re okay with that.”

They regard each other a moment before humming in affirmation, looking at you expectantly.

“So I found out recently that you guys are…fond of me.”

They nod.

“And I’m fond of both of you.”

Another nod.

“And I thought that…maybe…we could all share in that fondness. Together. At the same time.”

“You want a threesome?” Zoro is straight to the point.

“Well, more than one, ideally.” He laughs, while Sanji sits in silence, brow furrowed in thought. You continue, unable to stop yourself in your anxiety. “I like you guys a lot, and I was hoping you’d be okay with this, but I understand if you aren’t–”

“I’m okay with it.” Sanji speaks up with a firmness you didn’t expect. You expected an argument, maybe reluctant agreement, but he seems to have no reservations. “Whatever you want, I’ll do. Simple as that.”

“I don’t want this if you don’t, though.”

“I do want this.” His cheeks turn a little pink. “The thought is…not terrible.”

“I’m also down.” Zoro immediately starts approaching. “So we should start now, right? Break this whole thing in?”

You freeze for a moment, a deer in headlights. You really expected at least a little arguing. “So you guys are really okay with it?”

“Yeah.”

“Absolutely.”

“Shit. Um, okay. I wasn’t ready for this to go well. Uh, let’s start then. I guess.”

“Yes ma’am!” Sanji is on you before you can even process he’s moved, hands hooking under your thighs and pulling you against him. He kisses you hard, but before you can sink in and enjoy, he’s flipped you around to face Zoro. “Let’s christen this voyage, huh?”

Zoro scoffs. “That was so cheesy.” Even with his annoyed grumble, he seems pretty thrilled. He captures your mouth with his own, rough and demanding. His lips are chapped, and he quickly slides his tongue across your lips, demanding they open. You do so gladly, allowing his entrance, and you’re quickly overwhelmed by the sensation of Zoro taking what he wants from you as Sanji grinds against you, hands wandering and squeezing everything they find. He gropes your breasts, your thighs, before eventually landing on your clothed cunt, making you gasp into Zoro’s mouth.

“God, darling, you feel just as wonderful as I imagined.” Sanji’s voice is dripping with affection and lust as he squeezes you again. “So soft, so perfect. Absolutely made for us.”

Zoro parts from you just to comment. “You really are,” he mutters, squeezing your tits. “Absolutely perfect. Can’t wait to ruin you.”

Sanji makes a soft tsk. “Not ruin. You could never ruin such perfection.”

“Watch me.”

Zoro quickly sheds you of your top and bra, leaving your tits on display for the two of them. They both pause in their movements a moment, just quietly admiring your body, before their hands fight over who gets to feel you first. Sanji ends up with your right breast and Zoro ends up with your left as they both squeeze and prod however they want. When Zoro gives a particularly hard squeeze to your nipple you can’t help but whine, rolling your head forward into his shoulder. This makes you miss the shit-eating grin he gives Sanji, but the other man notices it immediately. In response, he shoves his hands down your pants, rougher than he would normally be, quickly finding your clit to rub.

“Oh god,” you cry, muffled by the fabric of Zoro’s shirt.

“Hear that, mosshead? That was all me.”

“Oh yeah?” Zoro’s voice is cocky as he rolls your breast in his fingers again, making you moan. “I’d say that was me.”

“You two are insufferable,” you murmur.

“You think?” They chorus, and you realize that there’s always one thing they can agree on: a common enemy. Quickly their hands start to work in unison instead of opposition, Zoro always squeezing whenever Sanji takes a break and vice versa. They don’t allow you a single moment of peace, always pushing you closer and closer to the brink, closer and closer to losing yourself, before they pull back, not quite ready to give you your pleasure quite yet.

You don’t remember losing your pants. You were too focused on the feeling of Sanji’s bare erection pressed against your ass, the feeling of his warmth against your back, the sight of Zoro’s scarred chest and perfect cock right before your face. Sanji pushes you down so you’re eye level with it as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Get ready, sweetheart. We’re not going to go easy on you.”

“Don’t listen to him, angel. We’d never be rougher than you can take.” You can’t help but notice the implication that there is a level of roughness you can take, but you don’t voice the thought, left silent by the heat of their bodies and the tension in the room. You’re practically drooling at this point for somebody, anybody to fill one of your waiting holes.

“Please,” you mutter, unsure exactly what you’re asking for, or from who you want it. You just want them, all of them, and they’re more than happy to provide.

“Of course, sweetheart. Just relax. We’ll take care of you.” Zoro’s voice is gentler than you’d expect when brushes his tip against your mouth. His hand tangles itself in your hair, ready to guide you forward, but he’s careful not to pull too hard.

“We’re here for you, always.” Sanji’s voice is gentle as well, but his hands on your thighs are rougher than you’d expect. You had always imagined him a tender lover, treating you as though you’re made of glass, but it seems the spirit of competition has made his hold a little tighter. You’re excited to see if it makes any other parts of him rougher as well.

They thrust in at the same time. Zoro fills your throat slowly but steadily, and Sanji fills your hole in a single thrust, pushing you forward into Zoro. You moan around him, and he shivers at the feeling of the vibrations. He pets your head affectionately, muttering quietly, “That’s it, sunshine. Just like that.”

“Oh god angel, you’re even more perfect than I imagined.” Sanji relishes in the feeling of bottoming out in you, in your warmth and wetness. He allows his eyes to close for a moment, head thrown back with pleasure, before he allows his hands to settle on your hips and prepares himself for the job ahead.

They make eye contact, sharing a single nod before they begin to move without mercy.

You expect Zoro to demolish your throat without hesitation, but his movements are slow and precise. You expect Sanji to take his time enjoying you, but his thrusts are quick and deep, relishing in the feeling of you. You wonder if having them together has evened them out, bringing them to a center between Zoro’s harshness and Sanji’s carefulness that allows them both to lose themselves a bit, treating you less like a toy or glass and more like another person who’s simply thrilled to participate.

As you move, Sanji squeezes your hips just firm enough to keep you still without risking bruising your skin. He leans down, pressing warm kisses to your back, muttering praising words, yes and more and just like that, angel against your skin. Zoro is also whispering to you, as one hand rests in your hair and the other rests on the back of your neck possessively. His words are less obviously worshiping but no less affectionate, even as he whispers more and yes, good girl and fuck to nobody in particular. You close your eyes, soaking in the words of the men against you, absorbing their warmth and affection and need. You don’t think you’ve ever heard their voices turn more desperate or wanting than they are right now.

Sanji gives one particularly hard thrust, pushing you further up Zoro’s cock until your nose is resting in his pubic hair, and they both give a deep moan in unison.

“Yes!”

“God, there you go!”

You honestly couldn’t tell who said what at this point, too lost in the sensation of it all.

As their thrusts grow rougher and more sloppy, Zoro’s hand starts to grip your hair tighter, pulling in a way that makes you keen. Sanji slides one of his hands from your hip to your clit, rubbing small precise circles around the bud. You thrust your hips slightly when he does, and you can hear him chuckle. “Almost there, darling. Just a little more.”

Zoro cums first, thrusting deep into your throat and holding you there as he cums in your mouth, inadvertently forcing you to swallow it all. He gives a few small thrusts into your mouth, fully emptying himself, before he pulls out. You manage to ground yourself for long enough to look him in the eye and open your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue, showing him not a single drop was wasted. He groans, lust clear on his face.

You expect Sanji to be second as his thrusts grow more erratic, but then you hear his soft whispers. “So close, angel. Just a little more. Together now.” His finger on your clit is relentless, calluses rubbing you in all the right ways. It’s only once you let out a high pitched moan, tightening around him, that he allows himself to release into you, painting your insides white. You clench around him, and he leans forward, biting gently into your shoulder, just enough to ground himself. He continues thrusting into you and giving attention to your clit until he’s sure you’re finished, before he finally pulls out, cum leaking from your cunt onto the wooden floor.

You’re about ready to collapse, but before you can, a pair of strong arms wraps around you, guiding you to your bed. “You did great,” Zoro murmurs softly, resting your head against your pillows. Sanji disappears for a moment before reappearing with a damp washcloth, which he uses to lovingly clean you up and erase any trace of the act other than the bite mark on your shoulder and cum inside of you.

“Did you like that?” You murmur sleepily. You know they did, felt it firsthand, but you still feel the need to confirm.

“More than you could ever know,” Sanji whispers tenderly. He then grows a vicious smirk. “And it felt wonderful to be the first one to make you cum, darling. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, with or without current company.”

Zoro scoffs. “You may have made her cum first but I’ll make her cum faster next time, just you watch.”

“In your dreams, mosshead. Though I guess you do know something about cumming fast.”

“Watch yourself, cook.”

You laugh as you realize this didn’t solve any of the arguments your crew thought it would. That’s alright, though. You didn’t mind. They could fight over you any day.

[heeliopheelia]

"do you regret last night?" (heeseung x reader)

genre: smut, light angst word count: 1k requested by nonnie ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

warnings: unprotected sex, mentions of cheating, pet names

a/n: okay guys i actually love how this one turned out!! i thought the last hee smut drabble was my favorite but i think i like this one even more!! ALSO the grammar mistakes are probably horrifying in here bcs i still struggle with past tenses and that's the reason why i dropped writing in them a long time ago 💜 so when it comes to past tenses – i kinda use them how i feel like it rather than using some actual knowledge... does that even make sense... PLEASE BEAR WITH ME, I SWEAR I'M NOT DUMB

masterlist

"F-Fuck, Heeseung, yeah- Just like that."

All it took for Heeseung was to see you standing at his door, soaked thoroughly with rain and eyes puffy red. It was all he needed to instantly know that his best friend – and simultaneously your boyfriend, has finally fumbled and fucked up your relationship once again.

He let you in without any questions, holding the door open for you as you toed off your wet shoes and walked inside with head shamefully hung down. After bringing you a towel for you to dry yourself a little bit, the explanation of your sudden appearance flew out of your lips in a wobbly mutter as another wave of tears streamed down your cheeks.

Biting on his lip harshly, Heeseung considered each and every assassination attempt plan on his best friend who's decided to cheat on you again after you so generously gave him a second chance two months ago.

He remembers your first heartbreak like it was yesterday, easily recalling the disbelief painting all over your face as you watched your boyfriend walking out of the bathroom with some wasted chick following him like a lost puppy. And all of it happened on Heeseung's birthday party too. All he could do back then was to watch the girl of his dreams run out of his door, heart broken and left on the floor only to be stomped on by dozens of feet.

So this time, he decided he's not going to be as helpless as he was then.

Somewhere in between sobbing and laughing at Heeseung's poor attempts of joking to make you feel better, you've found yourself straddling his hips and assaulting his lips with yours vigorously. Then you circled your hips over his, hands slipped underneath his shirt just to rip it off of him eagerly; all of it only to end up sprawled out below Heeseung on his bed sheets, head thrown back as your voice gets choked up again.

"Yeah? God, I'm gonna fuck you so good, baby," he breathes out heavily, lifting your hips even higher to pound into you harder, making you feel every inch of him hitting so deep inside of you. "'m not gonna stop until the only thing you're able to say is my name. Promised to make you forget about him after all."

He did. And you nodded eagerly at his offer, letting him kiss the tears away from your face couple minutes ago. Too swallowed up with hurt and lust to even process the urgency behind his words. Too swallowed up with hurt and lust to notice the lovesick gaze in his eyes as he looked down at your flushed face.

Your fingers tremble as they tightly wrap around his wrists that are placed on each side of your head, and you whine pitifully as he bullies his tip in and out of your soaked folds. Heeseung flinches slightly when he feels a cool metal brush over his skin and he looks down to notice a promise ring resting around your pretty finger – the same one he helped your boyfriend pick after the two of you had gotten back together.

Before the anger has the chance to boil the blood in his veins again, he swipes his gaze to your fucked out face again, scoffing with amusement. Never stopping his thrusts, he gently grabs your hand and lifts it up to his lips, his mouth engulfing your entire finger only for his teeth to grasp on the silver band and pull it off of it. You watch, almost mesmerized, as he turns his head to the side and spits the ring on the floor to get lost somewhere in between the rest of your discarded clothes.

"You're not gonna need it anymore," he says, a smirk crawling up on his pink lips. "You deserve so much better, baby. You know it too, don't you?"

You nod your dizzy head, hands desperately reaching out to grab at him and feel his toned body underneath your fingertips again. With a firm grip on your hips, Heeseung pounds into you ruthlessly as the sound of skin smacking fills up the room entirely along with your moans and whimpers.

He reaches one of his hands down to rub on your swollen clit as he feels you getting closer to your finish. The sudden touch makes your body jerk in his arms and white paints your vision soon after, and just like he promised, all that you manage to do is repeat his name over and over again.

"S' fucking good, Heeseung," you whine out, head rolling back into the pillows and back arching sharply when his hips speed up. "Don't stop!"

He presses you back down to the mattress and hooks one of your legs over his middle, burying himself even deeper into your clenching pussy than before and nearly instantly bringing out an orgasm out of you. Your jaw slacks as your body squirms slightly underneath his larger frame, hands loosening their grip on him and falling limp on the sheets as you're overwhelmed with the warm bliss.

You're barely in your right mind when you hear his low groan and seconds later his hot release is thickly spilling on the soft surface of your stomach. Your heavy eyes watch as Heeseung reaches to his nightstand and pulls out a couple of tissues to wipe you clean. With his soft stay, please and your tired thank you, you fall asleep with your face buried in the crook of his neck.

The anxiety that's been slowly building up inside of you doesn't let you rest for too long though. You barely open your eyes, clock striking 7 am, and the hesitant thoughts and worries flood your mind.

It didn't mean anything to him. He was just trying to help you out. You get attached to people way too easily, silly girl. You should probably get out of here before he wakes up and things become unbearably awkward. Fuck, why is your heart feeling so heavy all of a sudden?

So you leave his apartment quietly, fixing your disheveled self as you walk to the nearest coffee shop you can find. And just as you collect your order from the counter, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket.

The large smile can't be kept from spreading on your lips as you eye Heeseung's message with butterflies tickling your stomach from the inside.

do you regret last night?

And the answer is as clear as a day in your mind, so with eager fingers you type out a a reply.

are you crazy? never.

we should do it again soon <3

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi

[qwimblenorrisstan]

A New Dawn | Eris x Reader

Summary: Feyre grows closer to you, a close friend of Lucien’s, as you visit him while she’s in Spring Court. During that time, she learns of you being given to Eris as a servant by Amarantha, but no one could’ve suspected how deep the relationship between you and the Autumn Court heir went.

Word Count: ~ 1.1k

Warnings: Mentions of slavery, tyranny, pregnancy, also this entire fic is mainly in Feyre’s perspective btw

A/N: This is actually my first attempt at writing for Eris (all bc of a cute request), but if you like it then lmk and I might try more, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Feyre Archeron first met you at Tamlin’s manor, when she was still stuck as a human in a land of immortals that were trapped and bound by Amarantha. She’d been taking a walk through the house with Lucien, him explaining all the paintings in the gallery’s old, dusty collection that he knew of, and her eagerly listening, wanting to scrape up any lick of knowledge she could get.

That was when she’d seen you, coming from Tamlin’s office, him grave-faced and you just looking sad. You saw Lucien and perked up a bit, and he eagerly pulled you into his arms and held you.

“Who is..?”

Feyre spoke, trailing off at the silent tears you shed while Lucien held you close, his face buried in your shoulder. When you finally pulled away, the fiery male wiped your tears away with his thumb and glanced towards Feyre, you also looked at her.

“Y/N, this is Feyre, Feyre, this is Y/N.”

He said simply, a bit of his usual charm lacking because of the raw emotion in his tone. Feyre hadn’t known then why you’d been wide-eyed looking at her, turning to Tamlin and whispering some questions her human hearing couldn’t pick up, but she now knew exactly why you’d been shocked to find a human there during that time.

She was the cursebreaker, and you’d suspected that she would be the one from the moment you saw her.

You eventually had to leave, with whispered words to Lucien and more silent tears, before you had mounted a horse, even though running would be faster, and ventured back off to Under the Mountain.

“Where is she going?”

Feyre had asked Lucien. The male had only shook his head.

“Under the Mountain. She was..gifted to my brother as his servant, and she’s stuck there.”

He said, sentences carefully worded in the true manner of the fox-like male. Feyre found that horrifying, the thought of being gifted to a male, forced to serve him and do gods know what for him, being stuck there and only able to leave by delivering messages to other Courts. If only she knew the truth.

However, you sometimes got excuses or reasons to leave and stay at Spring longer than necessary, and you became a sort of salvation for Feyre. You would take her out into Spring Court to your favorite bakery, or the shops that were open at the time. Even when she asked, you never had a good reason for why some were closed, nor did Tamlin.

You slowly spent more time together, and she told you of her sisters, of Nesta’s hostility, Elain’s love for gardening and the flowers she’d grow with the spare change they had after selling skins, or how she grew up hunting. In exchange, you would tell Feyre all about your life growing up, how you and Lucien had been in the same age group and because of your High Fae status, you’d been friends for centuries.

“I’ll see you next visit,”

You would tell her every time, but this time seemed different. It seemed more like a final farewell. She gave a concerned look.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know, but I hope I see you again.”

It turned out that the next time you saw her was when you had a leash around your neck like a dog, Eris holding the chain to the collar as you both watched Feyre fight for her life in the challenges Amarantha proposed to her.

“Do you think she’ll live?”

You’d asked him quietly, and Eris had responded point-blank.

“No.”

But the glimmer of hope in his eyes as he glanced at you, a silent apology promising a future together if this human did manage to free you, a future where you weren’t chained and he wasn’t trapped.

Well, you’d almost gotten that when Feyre had given her life to free Prythian’s people, and come back as High Fae. Almost, but not quite.

“Just a little longer, darling, I promise.”

He would murmur to you every night as you had to act as his servant, attend to his every need, and act like the two of you weren’t painfully in love every day and night. That was, until, the night Beron was assassinated, shot dead with an ash arrow right through his black, soulless heart during a private conference between him and some higher-up you hadn’t bothered to learn the name of.

The next time Feyre had seen you, she’d been accompanied by Nyx and Rhys, Nyx on her hip as the other High Lords idly chattered, most of which were interested in how Eris would handle being High Lord of Autumn. Even more surprising, you’d been labeled High Lady of Autumn not shortly after.

They were still in for plenty of shock when you and Eris walked in, and the scent of budding, growing life spread through the room. Rhysand recognized it instantly, and the tiny bump on your stomach told everyone else what it was as well, not to mention the smug, satisfied face of Eris, clearly filled with pure male pride at his mate being pregnant.

“Oh wow, so you two were..?”

Feyre asked you while you chatted with her.

“We’ve been mates since before Amarantha, but we didn’t want to say because of Beron, then everything happened…it was a whole mess, but we worked it out.”

You replied with a warm smile on your face, one hand on your stomach. Rhys still seemed wary of Eris, rightfully so, but after seeing how the fiery male didn’t seem as conniving or rude, or even like the Eris he’d known for centuries at the meeting all because of his pregnant wife, or maybe because he didn’t have to play the role as the unassuming heir anymore, his mindset was slowly starting to change.

“Congratulations,”

Rhys had said to you and Eris, a slight genuine smile tugging at his lips as he’d patted Eris on the back, at which the other male stiffened slightly, but didn’t seem overly hostile.

Back at the townhouse, both having glasses of wine and idly sipping on them, Nyx already asleep, Feyre and Rhys chatted.

“I think they’re cute together,”

She said with a smile. Rhys chuckled lightly, shaking his head in amusement.

“She mellowed him out, for sure. I’m glad, I don’t think they could deal with another sassy High Lord out there other than me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Really, though. They’re cute.”

Rhys let out a little hum of thought, before nodding.

“They are.”

[mypoisonedvine]

Oh em gee 23 with Bucky!!!!!

23: "It's hard to get used to." "What?" "Being someone that someone cares for..."

not me writing the most wholesome shit like i'm not gonna sandwich this with some nasty as hell requests lmaoooo

warnings: touch starved bucky, hurt/comfort, description of injuries, doctor!reader (but very vague), way too fucking fluffy tbh like who am i?

The silence was comfortable; you were getting more familiar with it, at least. You couldn't be friends, or coworkers, with someone like Bucky without being alright with very long stretches of quiet.

But you weren't totally sure if you were friends or coworkers-- sort of both, sort of neither. Technically, he was your patient, but this was hardly a traditional clinical environment; first of all, you were dressing his wounds while sitting on his bed, like you always did. For obvious but unspoken reasons, he didn't react well to a sterile medical environment with those cold metal tables and bright lights...

Second of all, you were at least friendly with each other, and talked outside of those times where he needed attention (uh, medical attention that is), even if you weren't sure if you were close enough to call him a friend. You wanted to know more about him, but he was pretty cagey, and you didn't want to be overwhelming; but you also didn't take it too personally, it wasn't like he was very close with anyone that you could tell, outside of Steve.

And third of all, your heart was racing as your eyes scanned the muscles of his back, but you know... that was sort of inevitable. Of course you felt guilty for ogling him a little bit, but technically the Hippocratic oath never said anything about... admiring.

He winced a little when you pressed the gauze against one of his scrapes; "Sorry," you mumbled, breaking the long silence finally.

"It's okay," he replied quickly.

And then the quiet again; the next time you broke it, it was because you noticed him shaking slightly. You narrowed your eyes, ignoring it at first (maybe he was just shivering because he was cold with no shirt on?), but it got more obvious a second later... he was tense, like he was trying to suppress it, and you frowned. "Is everything okay?"

He only nodded, saying nothing, and you tried to lean around him to see his face-- but he looked away, keeping the back of his head towards you.

"Bucky, I need to know if you're okay," you insisted.

"M'fine," he whispered quickly, but his voice was breaking-- maybe it was a little aggressive, but you grabbed his face and turned his head towards you, finding his eyes red and tears on his face.

"Oh my god! Are you in that much pain?" you yelped. "Where is it hurting? Why didn't you tell me!?"

"N-no, I'm fine," he insisted again, "it's not-- I can hardly feel it, stop worrying."

"How can I not worry?" you laughed nervously, tilting your head. "And how can you not feel that? You took some serious hits... but that's not the point! Can you tell me what's going on?"

He sighed a little, looking up at you tenderly. "You just... you take such good care of me."

You wanted to answer, it's my job, but that would've been a lie. Well, it would've been technically true, but not really accurate, if that makes sense. Then you wanted to answer I care about you, but that would've been a little too accurate.

You didn't say anything, you were too stunned by the way he was looking at you. "It's hard to get used to."

"What?"

"Just... being someone that... someone cares for..."

Your heart sank-- actually, your whole body seemed to, as you slumped a little bit and sat lower on the bed to be at eye-level with him again. "Oh, Bucky..." you trailed off as you sighed, reaching up to wipe away one of his tears.

He quickly pushed your hand away-- not hard or anything, but immediate-- and frowned a little. "Don't," he mumbled. "It's not-- we aren't..."

"What?" you asked again gently. He looked down and shook his head. "Bucky, please talk to me."

"Don't touch me like that," he continued again, quieter, "if I can't... if it doesn't mean anything."

You blinked quickly, trying not to hope for too much just because of your own feelings. "Okay," you breathed. "I won't. Not if it doesn't mean anything."

He looked at you again; and you slowly reached up, and wiped the other cheek with your hand.

You were only so brave because of how he pressed against your touch, how he shut his eyes and leaned into it and took a deep breath in through his nose; only because he looked so relieved by it did you have the guts to move closer to him, straddling your legs around his lap.

He opened his eyes, of course, when you did that, and looked up at you with the most beautiful expression-- surprise, sure, but thankfully not discomfort or shock as you'd feared. Your other hand came back to his other cheek so you could hold his face gently; both his hands came up and braced yours, keeping them there. Relief was an understatement-- you felt so much at once, and even though your heart broke for him, it was so amazing knowing you could actually help him. Knowing maybe you could treat more than just the wounds that you could see.

He hugged you a little suddenly, a little tightly, as he buried his head against your chest; you sighed slightly and wrapped your arms around him, too, letting yourself fully relax on top of him.

You did bring one hand up to brush lazily through his hair, you weren't sure why but it just felt natural to do. You felt more of his tears wet your shirt, and one of his hands clutch a little tighter at your back.

"It's okay," you promised under your breath. "You're okay..."

This was the longest silence yet, it was impossible to say how long you two stayed like that. It felt like forever, yet it went by quickly.

"I can't be here all night," you finally found the courage to mumble to him at some point. "I have to go, you know, eventually-- other people are injured--"

"I-I know," he sniffled weakly, pulling his reddened face back from your chest. "I know, but... will you come back?"

You'd never heard him sound so... small? You smiled and tilted your head. "Of course," you offered, brushing some hair away from his face and tucking it behind his ear. "I'll always come back."

[softenkiss]

breakin their heart (pt 1)! yandere knights of favonius ଓ

tw. yandere, obsessive + posessive behavior, delusional behavior, clingyness, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, rumors & being pressured into things (reader)!

notes. rewritten based on the old post (which has been DELETED,, rip 😔 dw though the others are still privated) enjoy loves (and i hope you like this style of my writing!!) ♡

jean:

oh boy. she does NOT take it well. she's literally like :(( the whole time.

girl is trying her hardest to stay calm but it's hard 😔 the love of her life is literally leaving her,, how can someone not expect her to freak out?? she's trying her damn hardest to convince u to stay. it's her busy work schedule isn't it? she'll make time for you, she swears!! you can even stay in her office as she works if it's not possible. just don't go...

(jean doesn't come to the conclusion that no, her work is not one of the main reasons why you're trying to break up with her. it's her freakish obsessive behavior. and no, she probably won't ever come to that fact either. definitely gaslights herself and goes right back to thinking that her load of work is the main and ONLY reason why ur trying to leave).

when the words leave your lips, she's shaking. blunt and icy, jean's not used to u sounding so cold! her hands are trembling and she can't bear to look at you, drowning your words out because archons...she bear to look at you right now. she already knows that she'll break down into tears and start sobbing pathetically.

keeps quiet and most likely let's you leave with only a few pleading words. you deserve someone better, someone that actually has the time to love and care for you, but by the gods...she couldn't (and wouldn't) let that happen! you both belong together, even if you don't seem to see it.

(which is totally understandable, she gets it, she gets u! she'll be better just for you <3)

overloads herself with work, paperwork mostly. duties related outside remind her too much of you. she'll pass by windrise and literally start bawling (that tree over there was the same one where u both had you're first date!). the other knights are extremely worried about her, and it's not too hard to put the pieces together.

(lisa walked into her office once to her literally sobbing while holding a picture of you in her arms,, her sadness is very easy to see)

some of the knights try (maybe even forcefully hint at it too? they're desperate) to get you back with jean,, coming into ur house and informing you of her behavior. if that doesn't work, jean will...eventually take things into her own hands.

gifts and a overwhelming flow of letters sent to you are her ways of getting you back! ur door is practically loaded with stuff and you always end up tripping over something when you walk out the door. her gifts are sentimental and always (attempt) to alick a memory back into ur head.

(the pink roses she leaves you brings up the time she made a whole garden just for you, or the fancy set of jewelry u once mentioned that you wanted. she has a good memory and writes anything you mention you want down in case she forgets <3)

if you even show the slightest bit of fondness in her gifts/letters, jean immediately takes this as you wanting to get back together. and boy,, does she start amping her efforts up to 100%. i can see her also starting to act a little better and the other knights are just like 'jean seems to be getting better! we should try to help out so she's feeling better again!' and start pressuring you again. they, along with jean, are very persistent and won't stop until you get back with her :))

amber:

thinks ur very silly and just kisses your cheek! just another silly moment from her darling partner, you're hilarious! it'll take a while to convince her otherwise that no, you aren't being 'silly' right now and that you want to break up with her because she's an obsessed weirdo.

(and to stop trying to tickle u in an attempt to make you laugh. because she will definitely bounce on the fact as soon as she sees you start to crack a smile. she knew you were joking! you're smiling and everything!)

and even then, after showing her that you actually mean it, she's...laughing. it's strained and slightly nervous, but she's laughing. her lips twist into a (fake) smile and she justs itching to grab you. ur arm or anything! you have to be joking...right? her smile will widen into a grin that makes you uneasy, though u stay quiet.

opposite of jean completely, doesn't even try to hide how upset she is. just starts clinging into ur arm and begging and pleading for you to stay. oh archons, you can't leave her, please! please, don't go! please...? she begs of you...

you'll literally have to drag yourself back home with her clinging onto ur leg /hj. she will NOT let you leave omg 😭 on a serious note though you could probably just push her off (u gotta use your muscles her grip is tight as hell 😔) and just leave her there sobbing. she'll get over it, amber always does! it's for the best for both of your sakes (...mostly for ur sake though).

amber comes to work looking a MESS. eyes puffy and hair all frazzled. everyone's worried for her and wondering what happened, and soon she just starts sobbing again. she's misses you so much and will literally start crying in the arms of whoever embraces her first 😭

once the knights are informed of the situation (because unlike jean, amber can't help herself and spits out everything),, they're going RIGHT to u. you think you're about to be arrested one day when two knights are at your door but they're literally just there to get you back with her lmao

girlie is a mess without u. she can't eat, sleep, work, nothing. all she can think of is you and it's just so hard to get out of bed 😔 she will...someday with the pursuit of getting you back! yep, that's what she'll do and she'll do it well!

boy,, she does NOT leave you alone for even a second. she's all over u and literally acting as if ur still dating. she's buying you gifts, food (tons of food, lots of food), and even writing you letters (even if she's not...all that good at it- she's trying her hardest, okay??). the knights are also helping her too because seeing the energetic outsider so depressed is not something they want to see :(( ...atleast they care??

give her a inch she takes a fucking MILE. thanking her for paying for your food? you obviously want her back omg,, it's a sign!! she's squealing and literally so happy and ur just trying to enjoy the food and just 😐🍕

(she knew you wanted her back!! she just needed to court you again and gain ur love back! she promises she'll never make the same mistake again, she swears!! she knows how much u hate her popping into ur house unannouced and stealing your stuff so she won't do it! ...as much)

kaeya:

woe is him and he is woe... 😔

he's just so hurt, heartbroken even. the love of his life is breaking up with him, just leaving him as if the relationship between you both wasn't anything. he's just so sad,, sniffle sniffle...

...

seriously, though. he's just :)) throughout ur whole breakup speech. you'll be going off on how u noticed he's been stalking you and the way hes been distancing you away from ur loved ones and he's just grinning and shit.

obviously this pisses u off because he's just taking this so...nonchalantly?? archons,, you can't stand him! u walk out steaming and he can't help but grin and watch you walk away. he's confident, that's for sure. like he knows you'll come back.

but how wrong he is, because unfortunately (for him) you don't! he watches you even before the 'break up' and he's watching you now,, and you seem so...relaxed. happy, even. better off without him in your life.

(this won't do at all. don't you know u mean so fondly to him? don't you know he can't live without you? your disregardment for his feelings really breaks his heart, y'know?)

has a very particular plan on winning u back up his sleeves,, just you wait :)) it'll all start with him being so kind and gifting you things you know you want (or need), and being a corny lovey dovey letter writer (shakespeare wannabe). this'll last for a good month or so and if he sees no sign of process,, it's time for the other part of his plan!

(he obviously has layers to this. this is you he's trying to win back, he's gotta put in all the stops!)

this...is the part where things get a little messy for u 😬 he necessarily doesn't want to,, but his other plans revolve him doing worser (hint! hiding you away is one of them!), so this is for the best for both of ya, okay?

people are going to start avoiding you. with some, it's sudden. with others, it's slower, but it's not unnoticeable. it's strange, because you don't remember doing anything wrong to anyone, but everyone's avoiding you! ...except your little secret admirer (who really isn't so secret,, he signs all the shit he's get you proudly 😇)

and who's behind all this weird behavior from the people in mondstadt? well give it up for ur ex, kaeya alberich! he's a snotty little weasel,, and you have a inkling feeling who the perpetrator was (and ur right!! kaeya thinks your a very smart cookie!!). confronting him won't get u anywhere honestly because he won't admit to it, he has nothing to admit! ...unless you get back together, of course :33

it's all up to you really. facing the rumors with ur head up high and avoiding him won't get you much anywhere as he'll just end up snatching you away after a while (he loves and hates how mentally strong you are sometimes!). and giving up will just have you back in his arms, which was he wanted from the start! he won this little game of urs fair and square!

lisa:

she's drugging your ass lmao

joking...kinda. she's not going to start pleading and begging for you to say, though she's obviously going to be upset. she has emotions, can't you see? she's frowning so deeply 😞

lisa doesn't want you to leave her. she loves you! if that wasn't obvious with how keen she is of having you all to herself and throwing off potential rivals in pursuit of u, then she doesn't know what is! won't you atleast share a cup of tea with her first, just before you go?

(DON'T drink the tea. it's drugged and you will fall asleep before even finishing the cup)

and hey, even if you don't wanna relax with her for the last time, then you both can still be friends right? or atleast hang out possibly? she's rather persistent but it doesn't come off as clingy/pathetic because she's just rather calm about it all. and unlike kaeya, she's not faking dramatics and just let's you leave.

(obviously,, this is all just ruse to get u back into her arms. she's saddened, really. she truly is. she truly didn't expect for u to see her...darker behavior but she always knew you were a smart cookie <3)

will give you a week or two before she's slowly inching back into ur life. she'll give you a small wave, a quiet hello, etc etc. it's little things really. short conversations soon start happening again and she'll just ask u how ur days going, that sort of thing. she just wants to see how her favorite person is doing! nothing wrong with that, hm?

it'll slowly come to the point where she's offering you to share a cup of tea with her, just like when she tried to break up with u. you can obviously say no, but she'll still want you to take this special batch she has!! it's rather tasty and it's good for calming the drinker down <3

...

liar.

you'll end u stuffed somewhere. it's cold, so extremely cold and ur night clothes aren't much help (she did say the tea was for calming, and u really couldn't sleep that night!). ur obviously scared, but that immediately turns into frustration as soon as lisa appears and tells you her whole plan. tell her that she lied about the tea being for calming and she'll literally just tell you that it wasn't technically a lie! you were still relaxed in your last moments in your home, weren't you? 🙂

(situation will end up the same even if you don't end up taking in the little baits she set up so perfectly for u to take. she didn't expect you to be so smart! she'll just have to go into your house with the key u never took back from her and put something in ur drink, easy peasy :))

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 7

Hey, guys! I hope you're all still enjoying this story! It's a blast to write.

Here we have Gareth's explosion and the resulting fallout.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

****

When Eddie got back to his hotel he had all three of his bandmates waiting for him.

Jeff had his arms crossed, glaring at the other two. “I’m here under protest, I told them you had messaged me that you wouldn’t be coming home last night but they still thought you were being kidnapped or some shit.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Gareth and Brian. “I’m a grown ass man who can do grown ass things like have sex with another man and spend the night.” He raised his had to stall the onslaught of questions that were no doubt about to screamed at him. “Of course I didn’t get papped. I never get papped. Jesus Christ.”

“We’re supposed to be working on our ninth album,” Gareth growled. “Fucking act like it.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “You don’t get to say that this time. Not after what you and Bri did in London last time,” he hissed. “We had a chance to record in the actual fucking Abbey Road Studios and you two went on a three day bender where Jeff and I didn’t even know where you were. It got so fucking bad, you two have been banned from drinking at all this record.”

Brian had the decency to look chastised. But not Gareth, he doubled down.

“Which is why it’s so important that you don’t do it either,” he snarled back. “We don’t want to be kicked out of this studio too.”

“I was back before breakfast was being served!”

Jeff stood up and held out his hands. “All right, enough! Gareth this attitude is getting out of hand. No one has done more for this band than Eddie and you acting like he’s gonna do a runner at any moment is fucking ridiculous. And after all these years if he hasn’t run off yet, he sure as hell ain’t gonna now.”

“You need to work on your abandonment issues, dude,” Eddie snapped. “I have put my heart and soul into this band and I really don’t appreciate the constant insinuation that each concert, each album is going to be the last.”

Gareth stood up, fists clenched at his side. “You mean to tell me if Steve Harrington walked in here and offered to suck your dick in exchange for you quitting the band, that you wouldn’t?”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said coldly. “And he would never ask. God.” He ran his hands over his face and began to pace. “His little brother is like our number one fan. You know that guy I took with me back to Hawkins?”

Gareth nodded curtly, but Eddie could tell he was starting to unbend.

“He loves our band,” he continued, pulling at his hair. “So that’s just one of many reasons why he wouldn’t. The biggest one, though, Gare.” He whirled around pointed directly at him. “Is that he knows what this band means to me and would never make me choose.”

His lip wobbled and the glimmer of unshed tears stuck to his eyelashes. “Because he loves me.”

Eddie sank to his knees, hands in his hair and began to rock back and forth.

“You take care of Gareth,” Brian said to Jeff, quiet but harsh into the silence that followed that statement. “I’ll take care of Eddie.”

Jeff nodded and bullied Gareth out of the room. The door closed and the remaining two could hear the harsh tones of the two who had left.

Brian got on his knees in front of Eddie and gently removed Eddie’s hands from his hair.

“Hey, Ed,” Brian murmured. “Can you look up at me for a moment? I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Eddie looked up at him. “That’s who I was with last night,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Steve said that he loved me and he kissed me, Bri. It was so special.”

Bri sighed and sat down cross-legged from him. “It’s that we’re all supposed to be sequestered and you snuck off, only telling Jeff where you went. So Gareth and I freaked out a bit.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Maybe a lot.”

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair, settling into a more comfortable position on the floor.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, his voice clearer than before. “That was stupid of me. But I don’t think it’s fair that Jeff and I are being punished by the label for something you and Gare did.”

Brian scooted forward until their knees were touching. “It’s not and I am sorry about that. My girlfriend had broken up with me at same time I learned that I was asexual and I was in a really bad place. But I shouldn’t have let Gareth talk me into that bender, there was no excuse.”

“I’m afraid if he has another outburst,” Eddie murmured, “that everyone is gonna want us to replace him. The label, our PR firm, even our Chrissy would be forced to concede that the band can’t continue with him in it. And I don’t want that. But I will not have my life dictated to by someone who is four years my junior.”

Brian let out a long shuddering breath. “You’re right. While we’re here, if he’s willing, we should get him some therapy. Because I don’t want to lose him either. You guys are my family and have been forever.”

“Back ‘attcha, Bri,” Eddie murmured. “Last night was so good and I had awesome news for everyone that I couldn’t wait to tell you guys.”

Brian chuckled. “Even more awesome then sex with Steve Harrington? Must have been off the charts then.”

“I snuck out to see The Fallen in concert,” Eddie said chewing on his lip.

“Of course you did,” Brian said rolling his eyes. “And of course if we’d all gone it would have completely ruined their last show because it would have been all about us and not them.” He stuck out his tongue. “You still suck though.”

Eddie laughed. “Just wait, it gets better.”

Brian waved his hand for him to continue.

“So I was also able to get backstage where I got to meet Abbadon–”

“Gareth is going to murder you and then bring you back to life so that he can murder you all over again,” Brian said dryly, shaking his head.

“Do you think he’ll grant me a stay of execution if I told him I asked Abbadon if he thought his band would want a chance to headline for us?” Eddie asked batting his eyelashes and clutching his hands to his chest dramatically.

Brian blinked at him for a moment. “I guess that would depend on if they said yes...” he said honestly.

“All of them have to agree,” he replied with a shrug, “but Abbadon was pretty sure that they would.”

Brian sat there a moment. He licked his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I think we should use it as leverage.”

Eddie’s head reared back. “What do you mean?”

“Tell Gareth that if he gets therapy, The Fallen will tour with us,” Brian explained. “But if he won’t, he has to take the tour off and go into rehab.”

“Oh.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip as he thought about it. “I think we should ask Jeff and if he agrees, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Brian nodded. “I love him like a brother, but this was the last straw I think.”

“Let’s call Chrissy in on this, too,” Eddie said.

“Yeah.” He let out a shuddering breath. “Okay, yeah. Let’s do this.”

****

They ended up staging an intervention and using The Fallen as incentive they all got Gareth to agree to counseling.

A therapist would come in twice a week and Gareth would have two hours sessions with this person.

They were carefully vetted by Chrissy and the rest of the band, but finally they decided on one that would help Gareth.

Dr. Sam Owens came in and Eddie, Brian, and Jeff all sat in Brian’s suite, waiting for him to be done.

They tried to work on music but it felt flat without Gareth there. They tried watching a movie but they couldn’t decide which one.

They simple sat in silence until it was five minutes before the session was up. Then they slowly made the trek to Gareth’s suite.

Dr Owens came out first.

“I can’t discuss anything that went on in our session,” he warned.

“It’s just–” Jeff said, distressed. “Are you going to work out with Gareth?”

Brian nodded. “We just want to make sure we don’t need to vet someone else. He’s okay with continuing to see you, right?”

Dr Owens softened. “I understand now. My apologies. Often managers and fellow band members ask– rather, they demand to know what was said.”

“Not cool,” Jeff said. “We’d never. We just want to make sure it goes as smoothly as possible, because we care. We want him to get better.”

Dr. Owens nodded. “Thank you. You should be all right to go in and see him. We didn’t get to anything gritty today.”

They all nodded and bid the doctor goodbye.

Jeff knocked on the door and was promptly told to come in.

All three of them slipped into the suite. Jeff and Brian surged forward and gave him a group hug.

It took them a moment but they realized that Eddie had been quiet this whole time, that he had hung back when they entered the room.

He stood in front of the door with his hands on his lower back, just watching them shower Gareth with affection.

But he didn’t know what to do. Gareth had really hurt him. Had made an event that had been so happy for him and turned it to ash on his tongue. His first time with Steve would always be tainted by Gareth screaming at him.

Steve had been so angry when he heard what Gareth had done and was ready to pull out of the tour, everyone else’s disappointment be damned. But Eddie had talked him down. Told him about the intervention. The deal that could be struck and Steve reluctantly agreed.

One therapy session didn’t make up for all the hurt and anger he had felt.

They all turned to look at him and Eddie felt like he was the one who was in trouble, not Gareth. His lip wobbled as he sucked in a breath.

He turned on his heel and would have ran if he hadn’t felt arms wrap around his waist.

“I’m sorry,” Gareth mumbled into his back. “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You’re my best friend. My brother. I’m so sorry, Ed. Please don’t go.”

Eddie wrapped one hand around Gareth’s arm and pressed the other against the wood frame of the door. He laid his head on the door and let out that shuddering breath in a long exhale.

“You hurt me so bad, Gare,” Eddie whispered. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

He could feel Gareth nodding into his back.

“I don’t know how you didn’t drown like the rest of us,” Gareth said. “But I want to be more like you, Eddie. Please don’t go. I don’t think I could take it.”

Eddie huffed out a sigh.

“It’s because I saw what the worst of those vices did to a person,” he said, slowly turning around so that they were face to face. “And I made a promise to my Uncle Wayne and on my mama’s grave that I wouldn’t turn out like my dad. It hasn’t always been easy, in fact it’s been fucking hard almost all of the time, but I work at it.”

Gareth had tears streaming down his face.

“You’ve got to let me live my life, man,” Eddie finished. “I won’t let you ruin a good thing that I’ve got going for me because you have abandonment issues.”

Gareth let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah. I promise to be better. I promise to stick with therapy. Just promise you won’t give up on me.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around his friend and held on tight. “I promise.”

****

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

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[mias-blogs]

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐒𝐀/𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓.

(I'm writing this as a victim myself, if your not comfortable, please click out. this is comfort from SA by Record of Ragnarok characters, this may be triggering to some but I'm only writing this as comfort since I've been having flashbacks from the invent, please be careful, I don't want to accidently trigger a victim.)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐡𝐚.

��𝐃𝐀𝐌.

He first noticed your behavior when you were more comfortable around Eve then you were with him, of course, it's not like it bothered him, but you would act like you were scared of him, avoid him, scared of his touch, he then picked up on how you weren't doing this to only him but also towards any man or male god, it seemed strange to him on why you were acting like this around them when you were seemingly fine with any woman or female goddess.

He asked Eve about, seeking her help to understand what was wrong, Eve hesitated to actually tell him but eventually did. He was in horror to stay the least, as well as in rage, he fully well knew that life can be cruel, but he wasn't expecting that you went through something that vile, he felt his stomach twist in that moment, slightly afraid that he might have reminded you of the invent with any of his actions.

You were sitting by a cliff, looking up at Valhalla's sunset, feeling the breeze against your face, your feet slightly tangling by the edge of the floating island, that had many of them all around Valhalla, your hands touching the soft grass as you enjoyed the peace, you hear foot steps approaching you slowly from behind, excepting to see Eve, your body slightly froze when you saw Adam approaching.

“May I sit next to you?” the father of humanity asked quietly, you hesitated for a moment before you nodded, moving a bit so he wouldn't sit close to you, you were slightly surprised when the man sat a good distance away from you, enough for you to be comfortable, making your shoulders slightly relax. “ I... heard what.. happened to you.” those words made your body tense up once again, he noticed that and hesitated with his next words.

“I'm aware you probably see me as a threat, but I can tell you, I would never hurt you, you are my child just like the rest of humanity, I know that seems hard to believe when you've been through a nightmare, but I would like for you to warm up to me, if you think it's possible.” the man's fatherly voice almost makes you tear up, you've never heard those words from a man, both his words and voice was comforting.

The man smiled gently as he extended his hand out to you slowly, wanting to see if you'd take it or not, understanding you need your space and you wouldn't quite like physical touch from a man. Your eyes glanced up at his, his gaze was gentle and fatherly, for once, you didn't feel threatened by someone's touch, you hesitated, but you know understood that he wasn't like the person who hurt you, he isn't.

You took his hand, a smiled bloomed on your face, he isn't going to hurt you and that fact was almost comforting, he smiled back as he extended his other arm for a hug but stopped. “May I?” he asked, looking down at you and waiting if you'd approve or not, this was a bigger step, but he gave you time and space to think, you nodded in acceptance once again as he pulled you close for a hug, careful not to startle you.

His hug was fatherly and gentle yet warm, you let out a breath of relief, this was comforting, like a father hugging his young child. “It's alright, your father is here now, he'll protect you.”

𝐁𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐇𝐀.

Buddha had always noticed that you were much more comfortable around him then any other man or male god, he thought it was the same reason as him at first, not quite liking the gods are they're personality, but you also behaved like that around mortal men so it confused him at first on your behavior, he asks you about it but noticed you seemed uncomfortable, so he backed off on the topic

When the friendship slowly started to grow into something more comfortable and romantic for the both of you, Buddha had himself asking the same question to himself, you seemed more comfortable with women and goddesses and you personality completely shifted when around any man that wasn't him, which confused him once again, so he decided to ask for a second time.

��� Hey, [nickname], why do ya act so different around gods and men?” The question left the lips of the god as he stopped sucking on his lollipop for a second, his eyes glancing back at you as he patiently waiting for you to answer his question, blinking a couple of times as you greatly hesitated to speak up, you mind flooding with many thoughts, would he think any different of you? was he going to believe you? will he think that your dirty?

You decided to swallow the lump in your throat as you talked to him about what happened and what made you act this way, you could feel the tears coming to your eyes, your voice stopping in its tracks as you could barely talk without stuttering, Buddha's eyes looked down at you before reaching forward and hugging you close, hiding your face in his chest so you could sob.

You were shocked for a moment before you wrapped your arms around the god, sobbing in his chest as he held you tightly and stroked your hair, his teeth pressed together tightly as he looked slightly angry, not at you, how could he be angry at you? he was angry he wasn't there to stop it, angry that the person that did this got away with it like nothing happened, but here you were sobbing in his chest.

“It's alright.. no need to worry, nothin’ is gonna happen to you while I'm here.” he kissed the top of your head gently, his eyes shut tightly as he hugged you close to his chest, he's not going to let anyone touch you ever again.

[melancholymegumi]

melody's current thoughts…💭

yandere!shindo with a girl that really , really needs to shut the fuck up.

content warning : yo’s 2 faced and he snaps , spankings , figging , neglect , reader doesn't eat food properly , belt use , shit writing it's the afternoon and I'm surviving of a granola bar , Yo is referred to as “daddy” , mentions of reader getting 'grounded', ddlg , implied yan dad bf!yo tell me if I need more warning..

Shindo’s tired. he loves you by all means, that's the whole reason he kidnapped you after all! he loves you, and never wants to let you go. But god , for fuck sakes you are a handful. He's nice, he brings you food, gives you freedom to explore the outside of the house (that is covered with trees and bodyguards, but is equipped with slides , swings and classic playground stuff.

He gets that getting kidnapped and only having access to a TV and only allowed watching shows that he approves are a bit boring, especially since all of the movies are pg 13. He's just worried for you! He doesn't want you to see all the nasty blood stuff– you're not ready. It's why he kidnapped you in the first place. But still, why can't you leave him alone or be good for one second? Eat your food. It's not hard, but because it isn't your usual food– of course you're not eating it.

Untill, he finally fucking snapped. “you know what sweetheart? You don't wanna eat? Fine. You don't wanna talk to me because you're throwing your tantrums? Good. Since you don't wanna talk, I'm not fucking talking you either. Not until you have some fucking manners and respect.” and he just walked off, slamming the door of his room shut. Don't worry, you can't escape. He has cameras everywhere afterall.

Finally, after about 2 hours he came out of his room. Familiar white-tee hovering over his body with his hair still wet, making the shirt low-key see through. You walked up to him, trying to sit next to him as he flipped through the movie on the TV. That's weird. He usually pulls you onto his lap. “daddy?” no response. That's when it hits you, he's actually ignoring you. He didn't even utter a word , pushing you back on the floor by his feet. Which made you tear up, sniffling and hugging his legs.

He's still ignoring you— what the fuck. He just kept watching the movie , not even acknowledging your existence. Not until you started apologising. “s-sorry! ‘m sorry daddy! won't be a bad girl again– please! you're being mean.” that's when he sighed, giving you relief. But you knew that's not it. there's no way he'll forgive you that easily.

Your suspicion soon came true– when he muttered under his breath, his voice pretty yet poisonous. “go in your room. I'm gonna go to the kitchen, and you're gonna go pick out a belt. I don't fucking care which one is it, if you still hasn't chose one we're gonna use the paddle. I don't want to hear any noises when I'm spanking you , got it? and after that you're going to scoot your ass to the toilet , brush your teeth and go to sleep. I'm not cuddling you tonight, since you wanna be a big girl and run your mouth. Be grateful I'm not washing your mouth out with soap.”

you , of course ran straight to your room. But there's still an unanswered question. What was he doing in the kitchen? regardless, you picked out a belt, one of the belts that probably doesn't look like it hurts the most. It's the one which he wears outside everyday , a Calvin Klein’s belt that was somehow thick and thin at the same time. He soon finally came into the room – something. “so you do know how to listen. Over my lap. C’mon.” You whined at his words — only for him to shoot you a glare, which was enough to make you shut the fuck up.

He laid you over his lap, shoving two fingers in your mouth, forcing you to gag on it. with the one hand he had left , he suddenly shoved something into your ass – it was a piece of ginger. The sudden burning and uncomfortable sensation made you squirm , trying oh, so hard to not bite his fingers– and then he suddenly spanked you.

“If you squirm, I'm hitting you with the fucking belt and that's how many days you're gonna get grounded. Start fucking counting.”

[lily-fics-11]

The Girl Next Door: Chapter 8 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)

Fic master post here

Tag list: @avocifera @academiareid @fictionalgap @dynsdiary @sndixz @athenalive @lamoobsessions @eloud12 @whoopsiedaisy460 @kittenchae

(feel free to comment to be added to taglist)

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

The Girl Next Door

You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes

Chapter 8

Synopsis: After resolving some miscommunication, things heat up with Hazel. Also between Jeff and Mrs. Callahan, and of course the bomb that gets planted under Jeff’s car.

Word count: 4k

CW: Profanities, mentions of cheating, heated making out, mentioning being turned on, one use of the word binge but not in reference to ed, a bomb and explosion

*Not beta read

@reiisstuff asked about seeing things from Hazel’s POV so I tried it out a little bit in this chapter, not sure if it went well or not (writing like this without a name is really hard lol) so let me know what you think :)

Hazel walks you to your front door and gives you a hug. With her arms still wrapped around your waist she pulls the upper part of her body away from yours to take a good look at your face. Her eyes wander over you dreamily until they stop on your lips. As she leans in you close your eyes, only for her to press her soft lips to your cheek. 

You open your eyes, feeling disappointed that Hazel hadn’t just kissed you right on the lips. She sees that on your face and looks terrified. She lets go of you and stumbles backwards.

“I gotta go,” she stammers and she takes off before you can explain yourself. 

Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! You really ruined things, didn’t you.

Pulse racing, you take some deep breaths and run a hand through your hair. Wanting to go after her is being weighed against not wanting to push her to talk before she is ready. You will reach out in an hour or so to see if she is up for it. 

Tears threaten to well up in your eyes. Hazel is hurt, and it’s your fault. Hazel ran away, and she may never come back. You push through the front door to avoid talking to your mom.

You go up to your room and flop down on your bed. You wipe the tears from your eyes and FaceTime Brittany, you know from the snap map that her and Isabelle are together. 

“Heyyyyyy bitch!” Brittany says when she picks up the phone. After she gets a good look at you her face drops. “Oh my god are you like, okay?”

“I thought you had your date with Hazel?” Isabelle asks in a more soothing tone. 

“I did. And it actually was a date. And it went so well. And then she kissed me…” the two of them audibly gasp. “But on the cheek, and she saw that I was disappointed and got upset. But I was only disappointed because I wanted her to actually kiss me.”

Brittany is the first to grill you for more details. “Did you tell her that?”

“No she ran off, I didn’t get the chance to.” 

“Oh noooo,” Brittany groans.

“You gotta talk to her!” Isabelle demands with urgency.

“I don't want to push her to talk if she's not ready.”

“Just, just, just… send her a text!” Brittany stutters before pulling herself together and suggesting that you say you want to talk, whenever it works for her.

You open up your messages with Hazel to type out a text. Before sending it you read it outloud so it can be approved by the council: I wanted to let you know that I had a great time tonight, I would love to talk about it whenever you get the chance.

“That sounds good,” Isabelle promises you.

You press send then throw the phone to the side and your friends question why they can’t see you anymore.

“Sorry guys, I'm just nervous.” You sigh without actually picking up your phone.

“It’s just Hazel,” Brittany tries to reason with you, “you guys have had like, way bigger drama than this before. And figured it out. Everything is going to be ok.”

You aimlessly play with your hair. “I hope you’re right.”

“Hazel isn’t like your ex,” Isabelle’s voice is soft and tender. She is the best at comforting people with her loving demeanor and understanding of emotions. “She’s not going to gaslight and blame you for everything.”

All you can do is echo her words. “Hazel isn’t like that.”

“Let’s keep you distracted while we wait for her to answer,” Brittany suggests. You and your best friends start to debrief about the latest episode of a show that you all watch. In the middle of the conversation your phone buzzes and you scream.

“Oh my god are you ok?” Brittany shouts.

“My phone buzzed,” you answer shyly, a little embarrassed by what may have been a slight overreaction. 

“Is it her?” Isabelle asks without acknowledging that you screamed like you were being stabbed.

You look at the notification and scream again. 

“I’m guessing it was her?” Isabelle chuckles, though she tries to muffle it.

You roll your eyes and get as close to a smile as you can under these circumstances. “How’d you know?” That elicits some giggles. “What do I do?”

“I would probs read it,” Brittany suggests teasingly, “but that’s just me.”

“That’s def better than screaming,” Isabelle nods in agreement.

You read the message out loud: having a bit of a rough night, stuff with my mom. If you still want to drive to the car wash together tomorrow we could talk then?

“TOMORROW? I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW?”

Brittany promises that her and Isabelle will be over to pick you up as soon as possible. They spend the night keeping you sane.

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

You wake up an hour before your alarm after falling in and out of sleep all night. 

You are out on your front porch about a half hour early. Hazel comes outside just a few minutes after. Approaching tentatively, she takes a seat next to you, not too close, but also not too far. 

Hazel is the one to break the ice. “I’m really sorry about yesterday.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” you promise her.

Her palm meets her forehead and she mumbles “you didn’t want to be kissed.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what was it?”

“I just wanted…” you bite your lip for a moment, in disbelief that you are really saying this to her, “more.”

“More? What does ‘more’ mean?” Hazel questions with her head tilted to the side like a curious puppy.

You nervously play with your hair. “I wanted you to actually kiss me, on the lips. I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did, I should have been more respectful of your boundaries.”

Hazel slides closer to you. “Believe me, I wanted to kiss you. I’ve been dying to, barely even able to stop myself any time we make eye contact. But I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

You giggle as you grab the girl you love by her shirt and pull her close. When her lips finally meet yours, after years of waiting, the kiss exceeds your expectations by miles. You expected sparks, but this is fireworks. Beautiful, brightly colored, and explosive. 

One of Hazel’s hands holds your face, her other arm wrapping around your waist. You keep her close to you, still by her shirt, but also the back of her neck. The two of you get lost in eachother, savoring the taste, binging like it’s your last meal. 

Hazel pulls you onto her lap, your legs straddling her waist. Your lips move together, you breathe at the same pace, your tongues explore each other's mouth. The world has stopped around you until you hear someone call “Hazel?”

The two of you disconnect to see Mrs. Callahan is laughing.

“Finally!” She yells. You and Hazel look at eachother with bulging eyes and red faces from the heat of the moment, along with the embarrassment.

“We were actually just leaving,” Hazel tells her mom, voice strained. She grabs your hand and pulls you to the car, practically running, to avoid having to talk to her mom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hazel’s POV

My… not girlfriend and I arrive at the school parking lot early. We make our predictions about what we think everyone will be doing at the car wash. Isabelle already told everyone that she is going to be selling used panties to any weird old men that show up, she knows as a cheerleader that they love having their cars washed by teenage girls. Then there is PJ, who will be bitching about something while Josie tries to reason with her. Stella will put on her car convention smile.

I am absolutely exhausted, so when everyone trickles in and gets to work I sit down in the middle of the parking lot. My adorably supportive neighbor sits with me. PJ and Josie stand close by, unsurprisingly chatting instead of helping.

The ears of the cute girl sitting next to me perk up when Josie mentions that she is hanging out with Isabelle tonight. Isabelle and Josie in the same sentence is unusual, but I don’t have it in me to pay any attention.

I am so worn out that I groan in frustration. PJ’s head snaps around to look at me. “Hazel, what is wrong? Are you constipated or something?” She is clearly not asking because she is concerned, but because she is annoyed. 

“I’m fucking tired, my mom was up all night fucking the meathead.”

“What meathead?” PJ looks a little intrigued. I think it should be obvious that I’m talking about that one specific dude. He is THE meathead, leader of all the other meat heads. Josie notices PJ paying attention so she does too.

“You know, like, the guy.” No reaction. “He’s like the crybaby,” I look around at the three girls and they are still not getting it. “With balls,” I offer up but get nothing but blank stares in return. “He catches them and he… he throws them.” I’m trying to explain the sport that he and all those other guys with matching outfits and shoulder pads play, but it didn't help. “He’s like…” I pause for a moment to find the right words, “the main guy.” I can see the moment they catch on in their facial expressions.

“J-Jeff?” Josie stutters. “Is your mom hooking up with Jeff?”

“I just thought Jeff might be a safe word,” I admit sheepishly, I never made the connection. 

“Jeff is his name, you idiot!” PJ barks at me. My girlfriend, I mean best friend, almost jumps up at PJ but I put out my arm to stop her. I know she is glaring right now without even looking over, but I don’t like confrontation.

“I just get all the hot people confused, Jesus” I mumble. They all wear the same clothes, how am I supposed to tell them apart? 

We hear a yelp and all four of us look over in its direction to see what happened. Stella is on the ground, but she pops right back up and calls out “I’m good!”

“Looking good Stella!” PJ assures her before looking back and forth between my neighbor and Josie. “Are you gonna tell her?”

“Well she should probably hear it in person,” the beautiful girl next to me murmurs gloomily.

Josie sighs and bites her lip. “I’m going to see her tonight, I can tell her. It might be easier to hear it from someone less involved.”

Everyone nods their heads in defeated agreement. Josie and PJ go back to talking to each other. I lean over, not just because I want to get as close to this girl as I can get, but to say “I swear I was going to tell you about Jeff as soon as I got the chance. I was just distracted this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it Haze,” I’m assured with a sweet smile, “I was distracted too. Even though this will hurt Isabelle she's been through this before, and she might actually leave Jeff this time. And she is so much better off without him. I’m worried about you too. You’re mom fucking around with Jeff… I can’t even imagine how that makes you feel. And the fact that they did it all night and you had to hear it? Fucking disgusting. You are staying with me until everything gets sorted out.”

I look away from her when I tell her that I don't want to be a burden.

She puts her arm around me, and turns my face towards her with her soft hand. That earns a side eye from Josie and PJ. “Hazel, you could never be a burden to me.” I momentarily get lost in her honest eyes before I wrap my arms around her to give her a hug. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I admit with tears in my eyes. “I don’t know how I did it all these years.”

“I’m always going to be here. You don’t ever have to be alone again.”

After the car wash we drive home and I quietly go into my house to grab the essentials. Toothbrush, charger, school bag to get work done, that sort of thing. Just enough clothing that I can wear what I need of my own, and steal the rest like the love of my life is actually my girlfriend. 

After arriving next door we had lunch with her mom. With a push from the beautiful girl I finally got to kiss today, I explained everything going on at home. Having always been like a second mom to me it was so nice to have a maternal figure there to listen and reassure me. That really takes my feelings into consideration. 

When we are done eating and debriefing, me and my not girlfriend go upstairs to her room. 

I want her to be my girlfriend, of course. More than anything else, if I'm being honest. But I guess right now she is just my girl. At least I think so.

My girl gets comfortable in bed and I lay down with my head in her lap. She twirls her fingers through my hair and I get lost in her eyes the way I always do, entranced by her smile, basking in her presence. 

When she leans down and kisses me her lips absorb every thought out of my head aside from her. At first she is gentle, but soon enough I’m tasting her tongue. I breathe in her familiar scent and it’s intoxicating. She has flooded all of my senses and it’s a high that undoubtedly, no drug could ever match. 

She pulls away dazed, lips puffy, cheeks adorably pink. I sit up and climb over her to straddle her waist. I lean her back against the pillows and she licks her lips, watching me with starry eyes. 

I take a moment to admire her beauty, like I’m assessing a priceless work of art. 

“What?” She questions with a giggle that is basically a siren song to me..

I lean in and whisper “I just can’t get enough of you,” and she shudders from the feeling of my warm breath on her neck. I shift to hover over her face and she grabs me by the back of my neck to roughly kiss me. Her other hand tangles into my hair. 

We move in sync like our lips were made to be connected. She bites my bottom lip and I moan into her mouth. We start so eager, overcome with desire. It only continues to grow until we are both winded from having been breathing in one another instead of air. 

“I don’t want to move too fast,” I admit, trying not to pant. 

“Me neither, I want to savor every moment.”

I kiss my girl’s forehead and roll over next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her as close to me as possible.

We start binge watching a show together and I couldn’t ask for anything more in this moment. 

After dinner with her mom, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen takes me outside to make s'mores, like we always used to. She knows it’s my favorite so she came up with the idea while trying to figure out ways to cheer me up. More kissing would have worked, but her thinking that much about it melts my heart. 

While we are snuggled up by the fire, the stars light up the sky, and the Crickets are chirping. 

That is until a phone pings, I thought it was mine at first but it wasn’t. Isabelle has texted the council saying “Jeff cheated again. Come to my place tomorrow at noon.”

The replies she receives are full of heart emojis, I loves you’s, and reminders that she is a baddie. 

When the phone gets locked I see a teary eyed reflection on the dark screen. I look over at the prettiest crying I have ever seen. “I just hate seeing her go through this again. She deserves so much better.”

I wipe some of the tears off her face and try to look on the bright side. “Maybe she will be done with him now.”

“I hope so,” she sighs.

As it starts to get late we get ready for bed and watch a sappy rom com. I get comfortable and she lays in my arms, holding me back just as tightly. She nuzzles her head into the crook of my neck. 

My beautiful girl falls asleep halfway through the movie so I kiss her forehead and close my eyes. I don’t fall asleep right away, I just live in this moment that I have been dreaming of for years.

We wake up tangled together and share soft sweet kisses before we realize just how hungry we are. We make pancakes for breakfast and make a huge mess in the kitchen. After cleaning up we part ways, her for Isabelle’s house and me for home. Hesitantly, I open the front door and am very relieved to not hear any suspicious noises.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your POV

You and Britany spend your Sunday curating the perfect revenge outfit for Isabelle, formulating a battle plan, and hyping her up. 

Isabelle is heated all of Monday morning as she preps herself to confront Jeff. She wants to do it at lunch, so everyone can see. Embarrass him the way he embarrasses her whenever he cheats. 

We have one last check in before Isabelle storms into the cafeteria towards the football table. Anyone or anything in her way gets pushed aside, capturing everyone’s attention. Her high heels clicking on the floor is the only sound to be heard, everyone has gone silent. The whole school watches her on her warpath, in awe. 

You and Brittany stay behind, but Hazel follows along as the eye witness. You can’t really hear what is being said until Jeff points at Hazel and yells “shut up nerd! I fucked your mom!”

Moments later Isabelle pivots back around and struts towards you and the rest of the girls in fight club. “I’m getting revenge,” she announces. “I’m gonna fuck up some football players and I’m buying a gun.”

A few girls throw out more ideas as you all follow Isabelle out of the cafeteria. Hazel, who is trailing behind, suggests “or what about, like… a bomb?”

Everyone stops dead in their tracks, too shocked to speak. Hazel continues oblivious to everyone’s shock. “Like a, like a super small bomb. I mean, they are really easy to make, and I can just… put it under his car, and it can be a distraction.” You're suddenly reminded of a suspiciously bomb-like device you had seen in Hazel’s room.

PJ is the only one able to put enough together words to reply. “Yeah Hazel, let’s do terrorism.” Hazel gives her a small nod of approval. 

The members of the fight club begin to disperse. Hazel puts her arm around your shoulders and asks “would you want to work on a project with me tonight, before the whole revenge thing?”

You start to panic because you have no idea what project she is talking about. “Wait for which class? When is it due? I don’t even remember being assigned a project!” Everything going on with Hazel must really be messing with your brain.

“Oh no, not a school project. Something more…” She pauses to scratch the back of her head and find the right word. “... recreational.”

“Haze, what does that even mean?”

“The bomb…” she says nonchalantly, looking particularly mischievous.

Your wide eyes stare into hers. “You aren’t actually going to make a bomb, are you?”

Hazel flashes an enchanting smile that you can’t resist. “Does Jeff not deserve it?”

“Fuck it, let's make a bomb.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After school you and Hazel build a fucking bomb. Just in her room, like it's completely normal. You never expected to be in this situation but watching her wielding this power kind of turns you on.

The bomb is rather simple to make, and Hazel already has all the supplies. Questioning that isn't even worth it at this point. You help out by holding wires and passing over tools. She is so hyper fixated, and you are slightly afraid of an explosion, so you don’t talk any more than necessary during the process. 

After sundown the fight club meets up at Annie’s house, she has a van that could (technically) fit everyone. She drives, Brittany calls shotgun, and everyone else crams into the back. You are the last one to get in so you aren’t even sure you will fit. The entire volume is practically occupied.

“Uh…” Josie says looking around for a solution. Her eyes land on your neighbor and she smirks, “you can just sit on Hazel’s lap, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s fine.” You hear a few giggles and whispers, none of which are coming from PJ, who is giving you a death glare out of the corner of her eye. Hazel wraps her arms around your waist to keep you from falling over and rests her chin on her shoulder. All while looking over at PJ, to tell her to fuck off without actually saying it. You can’t tell whether it is you or Hazel that PJ is jealous of. 

The fight club spills out of the van and disperses to start their assigned tasks. You will be assisting Hazel with putting the bomb under Jeff’s car. She slides under like a mechanic and gets to work while you hold a box of tools. You become increasingly more anxious as time passes. Hazel had made it seem like it wouldn’t take too long when explaining the plan, and you can hear her cursing under her breath. You can’t help but imagine getting blown to pieces in front of Jeff’s house, but your undying love for Hazel keeps you by her side. 

“Like fifteen minutes…” Hazel says to herself before you hear a ticking that sounds dangerously like a countdown to an explosion like you hear on tv. Is this thing about to blow? Right now?

You fears are confirmed when Hazel starts yelling “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!” as she scrambles out from under the car. She grabs your hand and drags you to start running with her. You hear a large boom behind you. You are flooded with the warmth of the heat being radiated  by the blazing fire. Looking back to see the burning car makes you feel like an actress in an action movie. A romantic comedy had always been desired with Hazel, but a little action doesn’t hurt. Anyone but Jeff’s car, that is.

Everyone piles into the van; you end up on Hazel’s lap again (even though you didn’t have to). Everyone cheers as Josie slams on the gas pedal, driving dangerously over the speed limit.

[bjtch-craft]

"Can I make it up to you, please?"

Peter Parker x Black! Male reader

✩ Summary: Peter gets into an argument with the reader but makes it up to him...

✩ Word count: 2k

✩ Genre: Angst to Smut

✩ Request: Yes or No

✩ Warnings: Smut, crying, over stimulation (if you squint you'll see it), and (LIGHT) choking!!

✩Authors note: Sorry for disappearing for a while. School started again, and I wanna d!e already!!! Anyways this is my first attempt at writing smut, and it's so totally not proofread! So if there's any mistakes, please comment them so I can correct them.

"I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me!"

 

"Peter, I’m not fucking mad at you!"

 

Peter takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes with his wrist before placing them on either side of him, softly gripping at the sheets.

 

"Then why are you yelling at me?"

 

"I’m not-!" [Name] cuts himself off after hearing his tone. "I’m not yelling at you; I'm just... worried. Okay? Worried that one day you’ll meet your match or run into some crazy obsessed fan." He finishes his sentence with a softer tone.

 

"Well, you don’t have to be! Okay?"

 

"I know, but..."

 

"Is this about MJ?:

 

[Name’s] worried look is wiped away by Peter’s accusation and a look of shock forms.

 

"W-what? No!"

 

"Because it feels like it is! Is that why you meant by an obsessed fan?" Peter says, putting up air quotes while saying "obsessed fan. " 

 

"That’s not what I meant!"

 

"Then what did you mean? Because to me, it seems like you’re upset; I’ve been hanging out with her more often. Jealous even."

 

"Oh my God, Peter, you’re un-fucking-believable! This isn’t about her or anything else; this is about me! And my concerns! You don’t even know how many times I’ve seen you go up against some big and how terrified I've been! Terrified that you’ll get seriously hurt or worse."

 

Peter lets out a scoff.

 

"So you’re just being overprotective now?"

 

[Name's] jaw dropped at the sentence that left Peter’s lips. He wasn’t sure how to react.

Peter and [Name] never argued, and even if they did, they’d get over it within a minute or two, but for some god-forsaken reason, Peter was being an absolute dick.

The energy in the room increased by ten as both of them (mostly [Name], of course) could feel the anger begin to sink in even deeper.

 

"Peter. What. The. Fuck! Is wrong with you today? I don’t know why you’re being like this!"

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like a dick! I don’t even know why you’re arguing with me; I’m just telling you my fucking concerns, and you have the fucking gall to call me jealous and  overprotective."[Name] says, dragging out the word "Gall". 

 

"And I’m just telling you how I feel too!"

 

 

[Name] didn’t know how to react; he felt hurt and could feel a sob begin to make its way up his throat. He gulped it down (that didn’t work; he ended up still crying later, but that’s later) he began to pull at the bottom of his shirt while looking at the floor.

 

"Peter… Can you leave?" [Name] said quietly.

 

"W-what?"

 

"I said," Can you leave," please?"

 

"Okay. Fine."

 

And with that, Peter stood up and made his way out the door, leaving [Name] standing there in silence, a tear threatening to fall from his eye. It wasn't an empty threat, and the tear fell. And fell. And fell. And fell.

 

Soon the sun set behind the tall buildings of New York, and the moon rose, casting a small bit of light into [Name's] room. [Name] sunk into his bed as he stared up at the ceiling, a million thoughts rushing through his brain.

 

Are we over?

 

Why was he mad at me?

 

Should I say sorry?

 

Should he say sorry?

 

Is it my fault?

 

No, it's his fault.

For sure.

 

Tap tap tap. [Name] sat up softly and looked towards his window, expecting to see the source of the sound. But there was nothing…

 

"Am I hallucinating? Can you even hallucinate sounds?" [Name] thought aloud.

 

Now, you can actually hallucinate sounds, but this wasn't a hallucination. Tap. Tap. Tap. [Name] got up from his bed, crept towards the window, and slid it open.

 

"Hello…? Why'd I say hello? That's basically a death wish if this was a horror movie. "

 

"Hi!"

 

[Name] jumped back from the window with a yelp. Before creeping back towards it and looking out it once again, but this time staring down to see a familiar blue and red suit.

 

Peter stood on the building's brick wall, looking up at [name], his arms crossed around.

 

"Can I come in?"

 

"Yeah…" 

 

[Name] backed up from the wall as Peter climbed inside with a smile on his face.

 

"Do you have anything I can change into, babe?"

 

[Name] let out a scoff.

 

"Babe! Don't babe me, dude. Are you seriously going to pretend that our argument didn't happen?

 

"Sorry! I thought you'd be a little calmer. But do you?"

 

[Name] walked to his closet, pulled out a sweater, made his way toward his dresser, grabbed a pair of sweats, and threw them at Peter.

 

Peter changed and threw the suit in a corner before sitting down on the mattress. And a somewhat awkward energy filled the room.

 

"I'm sorry… I am. I don't know why I was being such a dick! But I'm sorry for what I said." Peter looked down at the floor, unable to look at his boyfriend.

 

"Peter…"  

 

[Name] wasn't sure what to say, and in situations like this (awkward, scared, and nervous), he often coiled his already-curled hair around his finger.

 

"I feel like such a shitty boyfriend."

 

[Name] placed his hand on Peter's cheek. "You're not a shitty boyfriend, though... You admit when you're wrong and understand why 6 wrong. That's legit one of the many reasons why I love you!"

 

Peter looked up at [name], nuzzled his face into his palm, and planted a soft kiss on his palm. [Name] ran his thumb over his pale cheek. It was a sweet moment that didn't last very long.

 

[Name] softly ran his thumb over the corner of Peter's soft lips. Peter adjusted his head and planted a kiss on the darker-skinned boy's thumb. [Name] smiled down at Peter.

 

"I love you, Peter..."

 

"I love you too."

 

[Name] pressed his finger against Peter's lip. He got the hint and opened his mouth, letting his boyfriend's thumb in. He looked up at [name] with innocent eyes as he bobbed his head up and down on his thumb.

 

"Jesus..." [Name] whispered out.

 

Peter came off his finger with a pop, his face turning a light pink.

 

"Can I make it up to you, please?"

 

[Name] nodded his head softly and backed up as Peter got up off the bed and kneeled in front of him.

 

"You can say no at any time, and I'll stop," Peter said with a smile.

 

"Same to you."

 

Peter reached up and pulled down [Name's] basketball shorts, dropping them to his ankles. Peter reached up and gently groped at the bulge in the other boy's boxers. Peter pulled them down with ease.

 

Peter stroked it gently, causing a soft whimper to release from [Name's] mouth as Peter's soft hands glided over his cock. Peter grabbed the base of [Name's] cock and gently licked the tip before taking it into his mouth. Peter looked up at [Name] as he slowly took more into his mouth, gagging a bit as he made his way towards the base.

 

[Name] reached down and placed his hand in Peter's hair, holding his head in place, making Peter gag as drool pooled out of the corner of his lips.

 

"Fuckkk! Peter, your mouth feels so  good."[Name] moaned out.

 

Peter let out another gagging sound and tapped the side of [Name's] thigh, signaling for him to let go. And [Name] did Peter come off his cock with a pop and look up at him with a smile, a rope of drool connecting [Name's] tip to his lips.

 

"Are you okay, Peter?"

 

"Yeah. Fine." Peter said as he began to slowly stroke [Name's] dick.

 

He placed it back in his mouth and began to go back down on it. He bobbed his head up and down in a repeating motion as he reached into his sweats and pulled out his own cock and began jerking himself off.

 

Peter came off his dick and kitten, licked the tip, and placed it back into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

 

"Agh, Jesus Peter" [name] whimpered out.

 

[Name] placed his hands on either side of his head and slowly began pulling his head further down on his shaft.

 

"I'm going to go a little rough. Is that okay with you?"

 

"Mmmm," Peter hummed in response, causing a soft vibration on [Names] dick, making him let out another moan.

 

[Name] gripped a handful of Peter's hair and began to pull his cock out of his mouth before slamming it back down his throat. Peter, still stroking his own cock, reached out and grabbed at [names] thighs for support.

 

[Name] strengthened his grip on Peter's head and began slamming his cock down Peter's throat harshly, causing drool to pool out of the corners of his lips.

 

"Ohhh God! F-fuck!"

 

Peter whimpered and whined around the length as tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill.

 

"MM~ MMM~" Peter whined out.

 

Peter jerked himself off at an even faster rate, chasing his climax. And he chased it, cumming all over his hands and floor.

 

"Aww, Pete...."

 

[Name] pulled his dick out of Peter's mouth, leaving him gasping for air.

 

"F-fuck~" Peter said in between breaths.

 

"Are you okay, Pete?"

 

"Mhm."

 

"You came... kind of fast."

 

Peter's pale face turned a soft pink as he ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor.

 

"Do you want to, like, you know, go all the way? You don't have to say yes." [Name] said, reaching down and lifting Peter's chin up to look at him.

 

"Yes, I want to do it."

 

[Name] reached down and pulled Peter up by his arm, smashing his lips against his. [Name] kicked off his shorts and boxers and began walking them toward the bed, lightly pushing Peter down. Peter reached out and gripped the collar of [Names] shirt, pulling him down with his lips, never breaking contact.

 

[Name] broke the kiss, placed a soft kiss on Peter's cheek, and started making his way towards his neck. Kissing down his jawline before softly biting his neck.

 

"Fuck~" Peter moaned out.

 

[Name] began sucking on the flesh and biting at it before licking over the bite. The warmth of [Names] tongue made Peter blush even more, making his already pink skin turn a deep scarlet. [Name's] hands traveled down Peter's body, slipping them up his shirt and feeling him up.

 

[Name] reaches out from under Peter's shirt and takes his cock in his hand, gently tugging at it. Peter let out a soft whimper at the feeling of [name's] warm hand.

 

"Is this okay?" [Name] says speeding up the pace.

 

Peter bites down on his bottom lip and nods his head.

With his other hand, [Name] begins to pull Peter's shirt up and begins placing soft kisses on his torso, making his way toward Peter's cock. Peter pulled his shirt off, making [Name] let go of his cock.

 

[Name] delicately kissed Peter's tip, spat in his hand, and began jerking him off once more. The sound of wet noses and whimpers filled the room.

 

"Does that feel good, Peter?"

 

"Mhm-ahh~ Fuck~!" Was all he could whine out as [Name] ran his thumb over his tip in a particularly hard motion.

 

[Name] let's go of Peter's cock and steadied himself on his knees, grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it off.

 

"Let me know if it hurts or if I'm going to be rough, okay?"

 

"Okay." 

 

[Name] placed Peter's legs on his shoulders and steadied himself on the mattress before lining himself up with Peter's hole. Peter reached out and felt around on his boyfriend's bedside table until he felt a familiar wrapping.

 

"Here."

 

Peter handed him a condom. [Name] opened it and slid it over his dick and pushed into Peter slowly, wanting him to adjust to his size before moving.

 

Peter gripped the sheets and twisted them in his hands as he let out a soft moan.

 

"F-fuck~" 

 

[Name] reached out and grabbed Peter by the waist and pulled him down on his cock. [Name] bottoming inside of Peter as he looked down at him to see his arm covering his face, his face somehow even pinker.

 

"Does this feel okay?"

 

"Mhm."

 

"Can you uncover your face? I want to see all the pretty little faces you make, Pete."

 

Peter's cock twitched at this, and a drip of precum made its way down his cock. Peter did as he was told, took his arm off, and looked up at the curly-haired boy.

 

"I'm going to start moving, okay? Let me know if it's too much or if you want to stop. I won't be mad, I promise!"

 

"Okay, I will."

 

[Name] began to roll his hips in and out of the pale boy, starting off with a slow pace to ensure he didn't hurt him. [Name] decided to test the limits and pulled out of Peter, making him let out a breathy gasp at the loss of friction before slamming back into him and producing another loud moan from him.

 

His face contorted into a mixture of pleasure and pain as his hands shot out and grabbed at [Names] shoulders as he rocked his hips into Peter.

 

"Aghh~ C- Can you go a little  harder?'

 

[Name] listened to his question and sped up the pace, filling the room with the sound of a headboard banging and the sound of skin against skin. [Names] hands roamed down Peter's thighs until they reached his cock, took it in his hand, and began once again jerking him off at an irritatingly slow pace.

 

[Name] placed his other hand on the back of Peter's head and leaned in their lips inches apart. [Names] thrust slowed for a second before stopping all together.

 

"Why did you stop?" Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

[Name] closed the gap between them. Peter kissed back almost instantly and placed his hand on the back of [Names] head, tangling his fingers in his curls. [Name] began to thrust into him slowly and more gentle as the kiss deepened.

 

[Name] grabbed Peter's hands and placed them above his head, holding them in place and breaking the kiss in the process. His thrust quickened, and once again, the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

 

"Fu-fuck~ ugh!" [Name] moaned out.

 

His thurst became even harder as he chased his high. Peter could feel tears starting to fall from his eyes, not from pain but from pleasure. It was all too much. His ccok standing up straight twitched and shot ropes of cum all over his abdomen, painting that area of his body glossy white.

 

"I'm not too far behind," [Name] grunted out.

 

His thrust became sloppy, losing the rhythm as he tightened his grip on Peter's wrist.

 

"F-fuuck~"! 

 

He let go of Peter's wrist, pulled out of him, and made his way to the floor. Peter got the idea quickly and knelt before sticking his tongue out as [Name] jerked himself off.

After one or two strokes, he came, shooting his load over Peter's face. Blotches of white landed on his lashes, chin, nose, forehead, tongue, and hair.

 

Peter swallowed the cum that had landed in his mouth and smiled looking up at [name] innocently.

"Jesus Christ, Peter, you're so pretty."

Authors note part 2!!!:

Okay so y'all I'm thinking of doing an Olivia Rodrigo type of story with Bad Idea, right? Should I do this???

Link to the song in case y'all haven't heard it yet!!!

[ryuichirou]

I saw in the dark headcanon post that Ortho does some upsetting things to Idia at times. Could you give examples of that if you don’t mind? :3

Here is the post that I mentioned it in! Yeah, the idea was that after getting a “heart” Ortho began to enjoy messing with Idia’s head and playing with his emotional state a little bit. He is quite mischievous… or maybe just a little sadist, who knows :3

That original post was almost a year ago, and I am very happy people are still invested in this theme and send asks about it (there are a couple of more asking for hcs and god I hope I’ll finish these soon). Thank you for your interest, Anon!

Anyways, here are some examples of things that Ortho might do, starting with the milder ones:

Little things: putting obstacles on the floor and cables around Idia’s legs when he either focused on gaming or nodding off in his chair. Sometimes Idia instantly knows that it’s just Ortho messing around with him, but there are moments when he genuinely thinks that he is just that clumsy and gets embarrassed and upset. If he spills something on himself, it’s extra points for Ortho, because that always gets Idia upset.

Internet trolling. This one is also tricky, because if anyone knows how to differentiate an actual troll from a fake one it’s Idia, but then again, if anyone knows how to trick Idia into believing he is arguing with a real person it’s Ortho. He knows how Idia operates, so he could create an entire nonexistent person behind some imageboard Anon that somehow says just the right things to make Idia all heated up and upset. This one is exciting, it’s like a game! <3

Sending some guy from the Film Research club to talk to Idia. Ortho would write an entire script for him, because he knows how Idia is going to react a lot of times, so it’s not that difficult to come up with a conversation that’s going to spiral from just mild annoyance to Idia shaking and wanting to escape and yet being unable to do so. Honestly, it’s up to that random guy not to react to Idia starting to visibly panic. Ortho could also organise hazing, but I mentioned something similar in the original post.

Messing with Idia’s food and drinks. Ortho monitors so many of Idia’s body functions, it’s very easy for him to figure out how much of potion/drug to add to whatever he’s eating or drinking so his body reacts in an upsetting way, but doesn’t harm him in a long-run. Ortho also knows that Idia gets way too focused on videogames and programming and neglects his natural urges, so a drink that fills his bladder quicker and “expands” inside of it is a perfect choice: the moment Idia figures that he should probably take a toilet break, he’ll already be leaking.

… or puking; and in that scenario Ortho would bring him a bowl (or take him to the toilet), help him out, hold his hair, pat his back and make him promise that he’ll always listen to Ortho and eat properly. Idia will shake, hiccup and swallow tears, but promise with a weak voice.

But the most cruel thing of would be to act upset at Idia for no reason, making it seem like Idia should know why Ortho is so angry at him and doesn’t want to talk to him. They’ve never had a serious fight before, and Idia really isn’t used to Ortho avoiding him. So not only it’s super interesting to watch Idia just shut down and get all quiet, and then get upset and maybe even a little mad, but then quiet again. It probably won’t take long until he breaks. And how clingy he’s going to be when Ortho loves him again! This is the best <3 But this one is definitely something that Ortho should do suuuuper rarely.

[be-my-ally]

Caught in a Trap

This has been a WIP since…. January? It predates my Tumblr anyhow - the concept is, uh, ridiculous, a cheesy rom-comesque situation. But for some reason, I just love having pretend arguments with Elvis - it’s honestly one of my go-to scenarios. Then, this prompt came along and I thought, huh, I’m pretty sure this would work with this, so I dug it out from the depths of my files and here we are xx 

prompt fill: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

pairing: Elvis (1961/2) / fem!Reader 

warnings: 18+, kind of manipulative!elvis, accusations of cheating, fake date, kissing, the suggestion of oral sex… but nothing actually pictured (honestly …. this is because i feel like all i’ve done recently is write the exact same description of it …. so if anyone wants to send me those time machine instructions so i can get some more inspo that would be *great*) . fictional member of the entourage as like a billy-esque person, but just a teeny bit older. Jerry hanging around when he may not have been - i’m envisioning he just popped over for something rather than working for e in this one but that may just be bc i wrote him into it and need an excuse for him to be there.

summary: essentially an alternative, younger, take of the older, sexier ‘We can’t go on together’ - Confronting Elvis about his casual kissing and the aftermath of being told ‘sure, its fine if you want to find someone else to take you out’ - spoiler…. It’s not fine. 

wc: 4.4k

as always for the dolls @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain

It’s difficult, having these conversations with him, they somehow always turn accusing - both of you slinging accusations at one another. But you can’t keep watching him go on as he is, can’t keep watching from the sidelines where he’s ensconced you between the walls of Graceland. It’s painful at best, humiliating at worst, watching him with his hands on the necks of other girls, kissing their cheeks - or god forbid their lips at the gates, in the car. Wherever he happens to be. He’s always liked girls, chased after them ever since he was old enough to want to and he didn’t often see much harm in chasing now either. Maybe you would see less harm yourself, in his careless affection for his fans,  if you felt like he was putting in enough effort to you - that you weren’t just being taken advantage of. But as much as you struggle through, logically knowing he loves you, it doesn’t really feel like it at the moment. It comes to a head one evening when he stalks through the front door, furious that you’d leapt from the car and stormed up to the house when he was “just talking! I was just talkin’ to her! What did you want me to do!”

You’d awkwardly stood there in the foyer, chest heaving with your emotions but uncertain what was best to say, when he’d continued his rant; 

“Oh naw, C’mon now, you wanna have it out, let’s have it out. C’mon, what’s the problem?” You sigh, 

“Noth-” He huffs at you, crossing his arms, his reddish-brown suit crinkling with the motion, as if telling you he knows that’s a lie. “Ok, fine. I don’t see why you always gotta let ‘em be all over you.” That’s barely the half of it, but no good ever comes from these arguments with him. 

“They’ve been waiting out there for hours, it’s the least I could do!” He shakes his head, “No, this has gotta be more than just some lil jealous thing, so go on - what’s wrong, I’ve not been treatin’ you enough?” You flinch as if you’ve been slapped, its a mean accusation and he knows it; the implication that’s all you’re there for, as if you hadn’t been there before; hadn’t waited with barely a phone call a week for two years for him to come home. Despite your best efforts you can feel your eyes filling with tears, though you attempt to furiously blink them away, knowing he hates it. He sighs, “Nah, I’m sorry baby, that wasn’t, that wasn’t fair, what is it?” He grabs your arm, slinking around so that he’s cupping you against his chest, “C’mon no need for that, what is it botherin’ you?” It’s almost comical, the degree to which he is in denial about his own affinity for being the problem, but you’ve already had enough of the discussion and just want it to be over now. So you clutch at straws, mind grabbing the first thing that he might find as an acceptable reason for your poor mood; 

“Elvie - Baby, I just, I never get to go out anymore.” He huffs again, pulling back a little so he can look down at you, he rolls his eyes, as if he’s about to disagree before he looks to the side, deflating a little. 

“No, you’re right. It’s not fair to you - pretty young dolls should be taken out every night of the damn week,” You frown, you’re barely two years younger than he is, “but baby, I gotta, gotta work, I’m just so goddamn busy at the moment sweetheart, I can’t just, I just don’t have the time.” You pout at him, understanding but still unhappy. He pulls you around to sit down, sitting beside you, your thighs touching. 

It hadn’t been a total lie; you weren’t happy about the evenings sat waiting at home, just hoping tonight would be the night he shows up when he said he would. He stares out the window a moment, clearly thinking. He meets your eyes, holding your gaze for so long that you feel like you have to look away before saying, “Well gee honey,” his tone full of faux nonchalance, “maybe, uh, maybe you can go on dates if you wanna. Find someone to take you out when I can’t. Just…just as long as you’re being good on ‘em. Real good, mama, you hear me?” You’re a little confused what’s being proposed but you hurriedly nod all the same, “I don’t wanna hear about your mouth bein’ places it shouldn’t.” You’re quick to agree, 

“Of course, it’s more, I just want the company El, I still don’t have many girlfriends here in Memphis now, but I don’t wanna be kissing anyone but you.” He pats your leg, nodding almost magnanimously, clearly pleased at his generosity of the suggestion, 

“Well then sure, honey, go and have fun. Actually, that’ll solve my problem with the Colonel too.” 

So with that permission, when two weeks later one of the boys - Tommy, approached you and asked timidly if you wanted to go out with him that night, “I-uh know you’re with Elvis, but I know you have a, uh, agreement of sorts, and I’d uh love to spend the evening with you doll.” You had gladly agreed. Elvis wasn’t even going to be home, and he had said you could go out; who better than one of his boys? 

You’re surprised, in the late evening, how good of a time you’re having, even as you can’t help but compare; Elvis would have opened that door for you. Elvis would have had a bouquet in his hand, if not something more extravagant. Elvis would have sat on the same side of the table as you. Elvis wouldn’t have flinched away when your elbows touched. Still, for being with someone who wasn’t Elvis you were having a nice enough time and it was fun to spend some time acting your age again. Being normal. It wasn’t necessarily something you’d want to do super often but both you and Tommy were aware your heart was elsewhere and so you didn’t have to worry about letting him down, and he made sure you were both still having a good time. It was honestly just nice to be out, and not accosted while doing so. You’re sucking up the last of your milkshake, well aware the date is going nowhere and therefore not ashamed to noisily suck up the dregs, the loud noise making Tommy chuckle. 

“You know doll - when EP suggested this I thought he’d gone insane, but I’ve had a good time tonight.” The pet name flowed off of his tongue as easily as it seemed to in all of Elvis’ southern entourage but you can’t help but wince internally a tiny bit at his usage. However, you’re immediately distracted by the rest of his sentence, the last of the milkshake turning to what felt like pure ice running through your throat to your tummy, 

“Sorry, did you just say… Elvis suggested this?” Tommy suddenly looks a little bashful, eyes wide,   

“Uh - yeah, I thought…he said he thought the press would stop hounding you so much if uh - you looked unattached from him? Said people were starting to guess you were uhhh goin’ steady stead of just seein’ him. So he told me to take you out - dinner and a movie, make sure we were seen and uhhh…. told me I could do whatever you asked….you know keepin’ up ‘ppearances but to keep my hands to myself.” You’re stunned, and feel so, so very stupid. You’d honestly thought he liked you, at the very least as a friend, and while you had had no intention of it being anything but an evening that might make Elvis jealous you still had liked the attention.  

“…sorry, are you saying that you were paid to go on this date with me?”

“Uhhh look, I thought you knew! I thought it was a joint thing, and I uh wasn’t paid anything more than I norm-lly would for an evening’s work. Ain’t like I took much persuadin’ - you’re a pretty girl!” Well there was that at least. “I didn’t meanta offend ya or anythin.” he sounds sincere, and while you’re still shaken by this revelation your brain is running through scenarios that may make the evening still worthwhile. You smooth your features, and smile up at him glancing at him under your eyelashes 

“Well-there’s one way you can make it up to me.” It’s like he can tell where your mind has gone and he looks sideways nervously, 

“Uh, well see here though doll, Elvis… he’ll kill me. He’ll kill me dead.” You let out a little, fake, giggle. 

“Oh no it’s just a game -  he’s just foolin with you, the silly goose.” You worry you might be laying it on a bit thick but he definitely is starting to relax. “Look, I uh, don’t think he’d be thrilled to see anything in the papers but look, if you let Jerry catch us in the caddy; I’ll double whatever Elvis was gonna pay you…” He still looks uncertain, and you panic for a second before you get a sudden flash of inspiration - “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t go mad at you.” He still looks worried but is clearly on the fence, “… and I’ll put in a good word with Jackie for you.” His face lights up. Jackpot. 

It’s awkward as you drive back, both of you preparing for it, he clearly wants to know why on earth you seem to have lost your mind but is evidently too afraid to ask. And you’re spending the time wondering the exact same thing, but, at the end of the day… Elvis can only be so mad, right? He does basically the same thing all the time. When he pulls into the spot designated for the car, you turn to him - there needs to be ground rules. 

“Ok. Hands above my waist. At all times.” He nods, eyes wide, “Ok, ok this’ll be fine. Just a kiss - a regular kiss, no tongue or anything.” He nods again, rapidly, like the fear is subsiding somewhat and he can’t quite believe his luck. 

You don’t have to wait long, you’d timed it almost perfectly for when you knew Jerry would be heading out to meet his current girl. You can see him stand there and put his hand up to his forehead, attempting to block your headlights which you’d ‘accidentally’ bumped on when he started to walk up.“Ok,” You look over at Tommy, inching across the seat, “Ok, quick before he goes,” You don’t allow it to go on for very long, but certainly long enough and it’s only shortly after when you pull away, acting as if you were in a daze; quickly flicking off the lights and killing the power entirely. When you glance up again, Jerry’s gone.

‘Shit.’ You think, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. It was one thing to give a performative kiss, for a reason -  to a fan begging for it, but quite another to have potentially done so without an audience. It makes you feel strangely guilty about the whole evening. You thank Tommy again, making it clear it’s time for him to leave; he gets out when you do and starts to heads towards the house but before he’s taken three steps you’re calling back to him,  “Uh Tommy, just in case - unless he sends for you, I’d probably lay low until I have a chance to speak to him.”  He looks back at you and nods. Despite your assurances (and his clear desire to go out with Jackie) you can tell he was still apprehensive about facing Elvis. He changes the direction he was heading in, instead heading for the back entrance - clearly about to go and find some of the other boys to hang out with - or maybe bum a lift home from one of them, while you get out of your car, smooth your dress and hair and head for the front door. 

You walk in, expecting pretty much a party since it was the right time of night for that to be happening and hear nothing but Elvis at the piano; your stomach plummets, it’s rare he’s home at this time, and even rarer that he’s clearly alone - you feel even guiltier about what you’ve done. He’d clearly wanted you to have him to come home to, no doubt knowing you’d choose him over anyone. You head straight for the music room tucked in the corner of the foyer and see him sat there, mindlessly playing humming along but looking out the window. 

“Hi Honey,” You go to greet him with a kiss, but he turns to face you and you realise you’ve severely miscalculated; 

“Hi Honey” he mocks you in a high pitched tone, it deepens as he continues to stare directly at you, “Jerry just called me from the car. He had some mighty interestin’ gossip to tell me.” He pats the bench “why dontcha sit down and let me share it with you.” You look around nervously but he really has cleared the place out and there’s no one to excuse yourself with, nor can you think of any good reason to refuse him, so you do as he demands. You hope Tommy had headed back out himself. You try to keep your face expressionless forcibly relaxing your jaw, anxious not to let Elvis know you’re worried; how’re you the one who’s feeling so nervous? Although you’d expected some reaction you hadn’t expected to have to face up to the consequences so soon. Despite everything telling you not to, you sit close to him, thighs touching. You’d normally hook an ankle around his, but that’s a step too far today. His fingers play a little tune while you wait for him to talk. 

“You steppin’ out on me baby?” His tone is level, in a way that says his anger has gone past hot temper and straight into cold fury. If he wasn’t so enraged you might find him amusing, sounding a bit like a petulant little boy pretending to be a man. You look over at him, suddenly furious that he, who orchestrated this whole evening, might take offence that you took part in it.

“If I was it’s because you arranged it.” He hits a flat note. 

“Because you asked me to.” He’s got an edge of a condescending tone about him, and he talks slowly, like he’s spelling something out for you. “You told me I never take you out anymore and you’d find someone who would. I found someone for you. Thought you’d be happy.” He shrugs. 

“So….what exactly is the problem here then?” Your tone is less than polite, but you had expected him to rage at you and his opposite reaction has unnerved you. You go to stand up, exhausted already at the argument that he appears to be ready to have again. It wasn’t how you’d expected this to go - you thought he’d apologise, make up, move on; although you should know by now that he rarely, if ever, apologises for anything. As you round the corner by him, his hand whips out and he grabs your wrist, 

“I ain’t done talking to you yet little girl.” You have no choice but to pause where you are, 

“I don’t see what’s left to talk about - I did what I said I was going to do, and you arranged it. Did you want me to say thank you? Thank you for insulting me like that?” 

He looks over at you and he’s talking fast, lowly like he wants to get his point across as quickly as possible. His head dipping to look up at you from under his eyelashes, his hand that wasn’t clutching you gesturing with his speech; 

“N-ow baby, I didn’t have an issue with you bein’ taken out, you’re right I probably don’t spend enough time treatin’ you to all that … although I think you get enough treats. But….Jerry’s just told me there was somethin’ else goin’ on. That’s different from bein’ taken out to dinner baby,” his eyes flash, and he looks you dead in your own, and despite how awkward you feel you can’t look away, his accent growing stronger as his emotions get the better of him; “that’s you steppin out o’line, steppin’ out on me. How are we gonna solve this problem?”

He’s still got a hold of your wrist and he’s holding onto it so tightly, you’re positive it’ll bruise if he holds on much longer. His eyes are burning as he looks over at you, and you can’t help but let yours fill with tears. He shakes his head and wiggles your arm, 

“No. Darlin’ don’t you start with them crocodile tears until we got this all straightened out.” He tugs you to stand in front of him as he swivels to sit sideways on the bench. As you try to swallow your tears indignation rises within you; 

“You’re not being fair. You step out on me all the damn time El. Lord above, I’m surprised if you’re not out more than you’re in.” He frowns, “and more than that, you arranged it all tonight! manoeuvred me about just how you wanted! How did you expect me to react Elvis? Of course I wanted to get back at you. Give you a little taste of how I feel all the goddamn time.”

“Baby,” His tone as if he’s talking to a child, “I’ve told you before - it’s different for me I’ve -“

‘I swear to god E, if you say you’ve got needs one more fucking time, we’re through and I really mean it this time.” He sucks in a breath, like despite all he’s done he didn’t expect the ultimatum, and usually you’d expect it to annoy him further - for him to tell you fine, go then. But he doesn’t, instead he looks down, suddenly forlorn as if you’ve knocked the wind from his sails. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say doll, I can’t bear the thought of you with someone else.” He’s still looking down, at your feet, like a little boy being told off. You hate how it immediately endears him to you again, how you’re immediately thinking of ways you could make him feel better. 

“Well why should I have to bear it with you?”

He looks sideways, “It’s ju-just,” he’s clearly nervous and he stutters through the next, “baby I have spoken to the Colonel ‘bout all this, d-d- don’t think I haven’t, he just ain’t keen on me having a girl at the moment. I don’t see how you can come with me everywhere and it not be clear we’re together.” You shake your arm where it’s still in his grip, forcing him to look at you. 

“Well El- are we together? Because there’s puttin’ on a show for whatever reason and then there’s sneakin’ girls back when no-ones looking.” Your own accent is coming out stronger as you get louder. 

“There ain’t no other girls darling,” he sighs, “I dunno how many times I’ve gotta tell you that.” 

“That’s just not true, if it was we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place.” He shakes his head, hair starting to come out of its coiffed position with the force of it,

“I swear baby you’re the only girl for me.” You nod, and step forward to put your hands on either side of his face. He leans into them, eyelashes fluttering unconsciously. 

“I know you think that when I’m here, but what about when I’m not?” 

“I-I don’t know how you’re turning this onto me doll, when you’re the one kissin’ someone else tonight. I’ve been here on my lonesome waiting for you to come home.” You laugh, squeezing his cheeks causing his lips to pucker as he talks, 

“Elvis. That’s my life every night.” He frowns. 

“Darling, they don’t mean nothing though! I swear it’s just for show! I haven’t had another girl in any way that matters since I met you baby.” You frown back at him, that wasn’t what you’d heard, and ‘not in any way that matters’ doesn’t mean not at all but his earnest expression, with his eyes wide, seems desperate for you to believe him. “Please baby, you hafta believe me.” He pleads, and you can feel yourself slipping, 

“Hmmm. Well….if you say so.” You shrug, about to pull away to take a breath and attempt to regain your thoughts without his eyes imploring you.  He stands, wrapping his arms around your midriff, with a little wiggle before you can get any further away. A hand travels up to your neck, almost feeling like he’s scruffing you, but his thumb rubs over a pressure point and you can feel the tension in your shoulders ease with each gentle stroke of his finger. 

“I swear, mama.” You look up at him, his lips parted - blue eyes earnest, for once not clouded by eyeliner or make-up, “I swear, I- I uh like the attention but I mean I’m a hot blooded man, I can’t turn that off baby, and if a girl’s gonna throw herself at me, I’m not gonna shove her away.” You frown, you’d been about to cave in to anything he said, but you’re hesitant again now - unsure what you’d be agreeing to if not, essentially, giving him permission to do whatever the hell he likes. His hand grips your hip tighter, as if he can sense he’s losing you. “No, c’mon baby, you know it makes sense - it’s, it don’t mean nothing, I swear it, I swear it on, on,” He looks around desperate for divine inspiration, “On my Mama’s grave I swear - you’re my girl.” You’re taken aback by that, it wasn’t something you’d ever heard him say before and Gladys’ name wasn’t ever brought up in any kind of jest. You can’t help but totally believe him. You duck your head, hating yourself a little for making him swear such a promise, 

“Oh no, Elvis, I only kissed him to get back at you - make you jealous.” He tucks your head against him, holding you close and shushes you, 

“I know sweet, I know. Bet he wasn’t even a good kisser was he? He’s just a boy, ain’t a man like you need.” You shake your head against his chest groaning a little at what you’re about to confess, playing in to his little pissing competition. 

“No…wasn’t good at all. Hadda….had to lead.” Elvis laughs, 

“Oh no, sweet little thing like you shouldn’t hafta be in charge. You oughta be taken care of.” He tips your head back and brushes your tears away with his thumbs. “No more tears mama,” and he kisses you, gently - twice on the mouth before moving to the side of your face. Butterfly kisses, before leading you by the hand over to the sofa, “Lemme take care of ya, doll.” 

He sits, legs parted and his hands grip your hips holding you in place before dragging you closer, it forces you to look down at him. Simultaneously making you feel a little small, and a little like a child, you thread your fingers through his hair, weaving the strands, stiff with gel and spray past your knuckles to tilt his head up. He smiles up at you, a little private half-smile, his eyes crinkling and you’re helpless to anything except leaning down to press a kiss against it. He takes the opportunity of the momentum of your leaning down to tug you onto his lap. Breaking your hold on his hair, and the touch of your lips on his. He takes a moment to situate you, tugging with a hand under your thigh to pull you ever closer to him. Once you’re firmly tucked against his side his other hand travels up your back to support your head, as if you needed it, gripping your neck, the other a heavy presence on your thigh. You shift, helplessly trapped by his hold on you - as if you’d even want to get away, unable to do anything but melt against his chest. 

You glance about, sure that the silence and solitude you had found him in was soon to be broken, and nervous about going any further if there was a threat of being interrupted. 

“Nah, baby, no-one’s around,” He leans forward, kissing your neck, “Let - “ he moves closer, to your cheek, murmuring against your skin, “me, make it up to you.” He whispered right against your lips. You sink into him completely, lips parting of their own accord, and he delves into them. It’s perfect, despite the slightly awkward angle, and you can’t help but sigh a little breath of relief at the feeling of it, so different from the gentle, chaste kiss in the car. Utterly perfect with his sharp nippy little teeth and darting tongue. He pulls you back, shifting you back but lower, until you’re pretty much horizontal on the sofa, pulling his hand out from under your neck to lay you down completely. He shifts, tumbling off, onto his knees. 

He pulls you around with a grip on your thighs before positioning you exactly how he wants, on your back, with your feet planted firmly down, legs spread. He tugs you closer to him, so that you’re almost coming off the couch yourself, pushing your legs apart further so that he could kneel between them. You aren’t sure about this. Not in, essentially, the very first room of the house - not, right by the front door.

“C’mon I’ll make you feel good doll, and then, then I’ll take ya upstairs and you can apologise real pretty to me too.” You frown, about to protest - to suggest, ‘hey how about we go straight upstairs now?’ when all thoughts are gone from your mind as he pushes your already bunched up dress further up and leans in, his breath hot against your panties. He’s … very good at this, and you’re under no illusions that by the time he’s half carrying you on wobbly legs up the stairs that you’ll have completely forgotten about any of those other girls, and by the time he’s placing you on your knees in front of him in the bedroom, that you’ll have totally forgiven him for any future transgressions as well.