#and a lot of em are pretty grey
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
People on this one Bojack horseman video I was watching were like “ugh Pete repeat was painting what Bojack did to his friends in a slightly more exaggerated negative light and saying it wasn’t they’re fault ag all. I can’t believe he’d do that it just goes to show that there’s gray in all situation and not just black and white”
uh. guys. I don’t know how to tell you this but. I don’t think that’s supposed to be the main focus of this scene. like idk about you but I’m not sure that a guy telling a girl about how an older adult man took his teenage friends and him to prom and then gave them borderline unsupervised access to strong alcohol (after telling them the alcohol they DID bring was weak shit) and then said unsupervised access nearly caused a teenage girl to die of alcohol poisoning, to which the adult man coerced him into lying about what happened and then getting a couple facts kinda wrong about the story TWO YEARS after the fact — which supposedly proves that the situation was gray on both sides — is what we’re reeeaaally meant to reflect on. like. you do remember what else Bojack did that night right. the shit Pete didn’t know about at all. you know right
#listen I know there’s no complete black and white in a situation#and a lot of em are pretty grey#but the grey can sometimes come in shades#and Pete getting a fact or two wrong about the time an adult put his gfs life in danger is light light grey at best#bojack horseman#Bojack horseman spoilers#Pete repeat#tw alcohol mention#tw alcohol poisoning#rant
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
DAY 10: EMPATHY - Lost little pearls of light. Tiny fires in the dark.
YAY YIPPEE a collab piece with @euclydya!! it drew the LOVELY linework and i finished the colors/shading!! wah im incredibly happy i got to do an art collab with y'all, thank you so much my beloveds :D!! <333 <222
without overlay!!
#disco elysium#empathy#de empathy#disco elysium skills#skilltober#skilltober 2024#de skills#voliart#im still going back for the INTs but im posting this one on the actual day because its IMPORTANT!!#everyone look at how Euclydia posed him isnt he so pretty?? i love the hand over his chest he's so peaceful <33#esprit: Euclydia#empathy has the transparent crown because he was the signature skill in my run!! but my headcanon harry's signature skill is volition :3#so voli will have the actual skill signature crown but empathy is my personal choice <33#surprisingly this has nothing to do with the two transparent skill points. that's a whole separate thing that's spoilers for Swept Up hjkjg#a lot of quotes i wanted to use were not empathy quotes so i couldnt use em!! ''I'm glad to be me -- an incredibly sensitive instrument.''#'''A blue forget-me-not; a piece of the grey sky'. Unofficial: 'For a moment there was hope'.'' <- i do not condone moralism hgkjg#hgkgj i hate that my fave's a centralist man but i GET IT. he empathizes with every ideology so he just won't choose. like not pulling the#lever in the trolley problem. too scared to hurt anyone so not taking sides. guy who cares too much! if i make a decision someone gets hurt#best to leave it to a committee of people so no one's at fault! :) <- NO!!! EMPATHY!! THOSE PEOPLE WILL GET HURT ANYWAY!!! DO SOMETHING!#augh out of tag space but this GUY. I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT HIM MAN. kisses his forehead. please have opinions my darling hgkjg
28 notes
·
View notes
Note
Just wanted to say that I adore your blog, it brings a smile to my face whenever I see your posts! You seem like a really cool person and so I was wondering - would you be interested in becoming mutuals? <3 Asking as a seagull because I'm shy. *flies away*
Thank you and for your lovely words! I'm very happy to know that you enjoy my posts so much, that brings a smile onto my face! :D
Sure thing we could become mutuals! Just send a message my way, don't worry I'm not intimidating or grumpy like Davy Jones!
*insert scene of Davy grumbling bitterly in the background*
#[answered]#[mun answers]#gotta head off to bed now as im pretty exhausted from work today but at least tomorrow is my last day before i have my days off to relax!#and write lots of good davy stuff with movies playing in the background#i might give the lord of the rings trilogy another binge watch as i just finished listening to the 1981 broadcast of it#and it had the lovely bill nighy voicing as samwise gamgee!!! and he was amazing!#let me tell you when he started talking about potatoes to gollum in that scene during the two towers i burst out laughing#because all i could think of was davy jones saying PO TA TOES#BOIL EM MASH EM STICK EM IN A STEW UH#it was such a great broadcast i definitely need to listen to it again sometime#ian holm was voicing frodo which was incredible since he plays as older bilbo in the peter jackson movies!#but saruman's voice actor took me a while to get used to because christopher lee's voice was so perfect#anyway that was me fangirling about lord of the rings ill be headed off to bed while davy plays the pipe organ XD#thank you for the ask again grey seagull!
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡
=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader
=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Medical procedures, crazy sexual tension, lots of cussing, light angst, tons of humor, workplace relationship, the hospital is lowkey slutty lol. Reader 26, Dr. Gojo 34, small age gap- Grey's vibes ✨️
=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 7.5k
=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!
♡ Comment to get added to the tag list ♡
=͟͟͞♡ Part One =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist
♡ Part Two ♡
“Doctor, you should call it. The time of death.” Comes Miwa’s voice, soft and sweet, as you’re pumping your hands tirelessly over this woman’s chest.
The woman had a damn baby right in the hospital nursery, having had a placental abruption, they had gotten the baby out in time on the maternity ward, but then she lost too much blood, and they’d brought her here. You've pumped countless times, your elbows are locked, your arms are aching, there are tears sticking to your cheeks that you don’t know where they came from.
You’re counting, one, two, three… to thirty, then scowl up at the nurse assistant now. “She’s not dead yet, now do the breaths!”
The assistant squeezes the blue bottle, frowning at you in concern. “It’s been three minutes, the patient is likely gone.”
“Don’t tell me to just give up on her. I won’t. Charge em up.” You turn and say to Miwa now, and she sighs. “I said…” You’re pumping so hard you feel her ribcage just barely crack, but you can’t stop, she’s flat lined and she has a damn baby. “I said charge them. Thirty joules! C’mon, Yula…”
The patient’s name was Yula, her name was Yula.
You keep repeating it to yourself as you work over her, hopelessly staring at the screen, praying to see a blip, to see anything. You’ve already had to call time of death for patients, but something in this got you, in knowing that the baby wouldn’t even know her own mother. In knowing that she got here just in time to save her baby, only to fall unconscious.
You’re nearing four minutes, you realize with a panic, and you notice Miwa has not charged the paddles. “Doctor, you should-”
“Are you telling your doctor what to do?” You demand, breathless, and she pouts then, thin brows drawing together.
“If she says charge them, fucking charge them. Thirty joules, now.” Comes Doctor Gojo’s voice, deep and stern, as he steps into the room, glaring over at Miwa, who now suddenly decides that she will charge the paddles. You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t compressing over and over on Yula, exhaustion already setting in.
“Thank you, Dr. Gojo.” You manage, trembling with your effort, and he gently pushes you out of the way, you shake out your numb arms.
“You get the paddles, intern, okay. How long?” He asks.
“Almost four minutes, Gojo, she's crazy!” Miwa says. Your jaw clenches.
“Did I ask you anything?” He demands then, and the room goes silent, Gojo looks right at you, seriously, when you get the paddles and then he moves his hands, as you shock Yula’s chest now.
A blip.
“Please, please…” You whisper, choking up, and then the blip dies off. “She just had two blood transfusions, we need to-”
“Doctor, she’s been at it too long.” Miwa says. “She’s going to have no brain function if we go one more minute.”
“So we give her one more minute!” You shout at her, you never shout, you never break this composure you try to have, but you’re exhausted, weak, thank god Gojo’s pumping over her, his strong arms working faster than even you could.
“Hey, intern, look at me.” You look at Gojo then, at his pretty face as he’s working over her, his white hair falling over his forehead, he nods at the paddles. “Just breathe, yeah? Charge them to forty five.”
“Yes, Sir.” You manage, taking a breath, then you open your eyes, and look at the screen one more time, taking the defibrillator paddles, and shocking her chest, her entire body jolts. The room is dead silent, then you hear it, a heartbeat, a pulse on that machine, a steady beep… beep… beep…
You start sobbing in relief, uncaring what anyone thought at that moment. Doctor Gojo checks for signs of brain activity, rubbing her throat then, feeling her pulse. He grins at you, brightening that room with those glinting white teeth. He gestures for you to come over now, as Yula barely opens her eyes, gasping for breath then, leaning up on her elbows.
“What… where’s my baby?” She whispers, her lips are blue, but she’s talking, cognizant, aware. You feel chills through your body, goosebumps you rub gingerly with sore arms.
The first thing she asks, her baby. She’s gonna be a damn good mom, and she gets to be a mom. You push back thoughts of your own mom, taking a breath to finally speak.
“Your baby is nice and healthy, she’s strong. Like her mom.” You say softly, holding her hand delicately in your own, the nurses are unhooking her from the plugs in the wall, wrapping tubes and wires now, so that they can take her to get checked on Doctor Gojo’s orders.
“Oh thank goodness, oh…” She’s blinking tears now, and she looks to Doctor Gojo, who is smiling softly at her.
“She saved your life.” Gojo says, and you shake your head.
“He did, truly.”
“Well, a little, but mostly her.” He nudges you a bit playfully, and she’s smiling, holding her hands out to both of you.
“Thank you both so, so much. Thank you.” The nurses who all were not listening are quiet now, but you don’t blame them, many of them have done this for years, and you were new.
But something feels so good knowing she is okay, that she will live to see her baby, a fucking rush knowing you saved her, that Doctor Gojo had helped you, despite you going against certain protocol. You look up at him now, and his lips part as he studies you, seriously.
“We will get you to some tests, then you can hold your baby. How’s that sound, Miss Yula?” Satoru says, turning his attention to her, and she nods, grinning so big. She’s pale, she looks weak, but she’s strong and she’s alive.
“Thank you both so much. I can’t wait to meet my baby! Was it a…” Your heart pounds now, realizing she didn’t even see the baby yet.
“It’s a boy. You will see him very soon.” They wheel her away, Miwa is about to leave when Gojo pauses her.
“You will not do that again, I don’t care if she’s new, she is your doctor. Do you understand?” He asks, he’s quiet, so no one hears, and she is blinking back tears now, lip trembling.
“You’re being mean to me.” You try not to scoff, acting like you can’t hear a thing she says, Satoru doesn’t hide his scoff.
“Mean? It’s lives we’re talking about, not personal things.” He says, dropping his voice even quieter, as you work on putting in orders for medicines for Yula, you pretend you don’t hear, but something in you is curious.
“She’s insane.”
Ouch.
“She’s my best intern, and I like insane.” You can’t lie about how elated you are when you hear him. Doctor Gojo might come off as silly, or goofy, but he was the best, and the praise meant so much, even if insane may not be a compliment, from him it seemed like one. “How many times have I pulled a stunt like that?”
“You’re Doctor Gojo.”
“She went through the same schooling, she earned her place here. I am disappointed. I’ll have to assign you elsewhere if you keep on with it, you’ve repeatedly not listened to her. Understood?”
She looks at you, then looks down, nodding. “I get it, fine… but, can I see you later?” Her voice drops another octave, just a breath really.
“I’m busy today, but just know I’m not mad at you, okay? Just you need to trust her judgment, I only brought the best here.” He has his hands on her shoulders gently, she nods, then walks by you.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just seen… a lot of situations where that doesn’t work.” She says, and you shake your head.
“It’s okay, I am kind of batshit crazy to keep going so long. I think I really… because of the baby…”
“I understand. I’ll trust you next time.” She whispers, giving you a little hug now, surprising you. “You saved her.”
“Thank you, Miwa.” You give her a little smile as she leaves, and it’s just you and Satoru now, as the heavy hospital door slams shut. Satoru has his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat, leaning against the counter of the hospital room, looking at you. “I know, I know… I was reckless.”
“Completely reckless, and honestly she’s right. You’re insane.” He says, you flush then, looking down.
“Is this going to fuck up my chance to scrub in? I’m so sorry-”
“Why did you go so hard?” He’s suddenly right in front of you, the pounding of adrenaline racing through your body makes you overheated, lightheaded, to the point you feel a little dizzy.
“She just had that baby, Satoru. Fuck… Gojo. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mind.” He brushes your hair back, it’s fallen out of its bun. “You want me to fix your hair?”
“You don’t have to-”
“I asked if you wanted me to.” You nod then, turning, and Satoru is taking your hair out of your bun now, gathering it gently. “So you wanted to try insane shit because she had a baby?”
“Yes. Sorry I’m such a mess.”
“You just gave four hundred compressions, you should be a mess. Now, is it just because you love babies so much?” He asks, long fingers massaging your scalp, you can’t help but shut your eyes. It feels so good.
“I do love babies, but no. My mother died having me, from the same thing, placental abruption. I was in the NICU for a long, long time. My dad had to care for me alone, poor guy had no clue what to do. I snapped, honestly, it wasn’t professional in any way, Gojo.”
He’s quiet, as he fixes your hair back up, now his big, sure hands are massaging your sore arms, you exhale, tilting your neck side to side. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I never knew her. All I have are stories, I never even got held in her arms, just like Yula’s baby would have been.” Your voice is hoarse, your body is tired, you feel his gentle touch and crave more of it.
“You call your patients their names, not ‘patient’.”
“Yes. They have names, we should use them. Don’t you?”
“I do. But… you know that you are letting your emotions guide you, rather than your brain.”
“I’m so sorry-”
“I like that.”
“What now!?” You turn to look at him in shock, and he’s very serious, more serious than you’re used to seeing him. Even in surgery, his confidence carried over, and he could crack jokes as you would watch him through the glass. You were always amazed by that, the confidence, the skill, the ability to laugh even.
“I like that you said fuck protocol and tried your best to save someone, shit that’s why I’m as good at what I do as I am. I said fuck all these rules. Sometimes saving someone means trusting your gut.” He’s tilting your chin up, and for some insane moment you want to kiss him, is it the adrenaline, is it his praise, is it your heart racing so much you’re stupid?
You eye his plush lips, barely registering his words.
“You like that I’m too emotional? Isn’t that the opposite of what I’m supposed to be as a doctor?” You whisper, and he shakes his head then, leaning close.
“You’re unique, special. I find you intriguing actually, and exactly what I want in an intern. I’ll have to cover for your ass though with Yaga.”
“Ugh, I know.” You sigh now. “You’re about to take over as chief of surgery, aren’t you? I don’t want to fuck anything up.”
“Nah, no worries there, I have been getting away with shit for eight years. I’m the best so they do whatever the fuck I want to keep me.” He smirks, and you smile up at him, enjoying the close proximity far too much. “You owe me.”
“Anything! Oh, nothing pervy.”
His lips quirk up. “How dare you assume.”
“Well, Miwa is probably upset, you may not get a bj.” He snorts then, dropping your chin and rolling his pretty blue eyes.
“She absolutely was in the wrong to question you, and she knows. As for… well we don’t have a relationship, I don’t really date.”
You raise a brow curiously. “You just fuck?”
“Lots of fucking.” You snort, shaking your head.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You should try it, you’re too stiff, you should loosen up.”
“Bet you- actually, you know what, no. I’m too happy to argue. Maybe I should go relieve some stress, shit.” Gojo laughs again, and you giggle now. “I’m losing my mind at this career.”
“That’s what good doctors do.” He taps your nose.
“Why do you do that?” You ask curiously.
“You’re cute when it scrunches up. Now, I want you to go out to eat with me sometime, that’s all I ask.” You sigh, tilting your head.
“Why, you’re Dr. Hojo, you can have anyone go out to eat with you, and do much more than I would, I’m sure.”
“Maybe I just wanna know what makes you tick, intern. Especially now that I saw you in action like that.” You nervously bite your lip, as you think of just being around him outside of this hospital, what would that even be like?
“Sure, we can go out to eat some time. Are you going to the party tomorrow?” You ask, and he nods.
“I’ll be there to make it fun. Now, you go put in your notes, I’ll go mitigate this with Yaga before it blows up.” He gently rubs your shoulder, walking past you now towards the door.
“Doctor Gojo?” He turns then. “Thank you, so much.”
Satoru smiles at you, nodding his head a bit. “You’re welcome intern, you owe me though, I’ll be annoying you about it.”
“Can’t wait.” You tease, he chuckles as he walks by, you nearly collapse, so overwhelmed, plopping down into the rolling chair and covering your face.
You saved someone. That eclipses it all, this is what you wanted to do, always, to save people, like your mom that day. No, not everyone is going to get saved, but if you can just do your fucking best, you feel good. You look at your watch, only one hour left of this insane day.
The night of the party
You’re rushing to get out of the hospital, to hurry and get to the party Maki, Yuta and Toge have started without you. You brought party clothes with you, so you quickly change into the outfit, a slinky little red dress that glitters even under the icky fluorescent lights above. You run over to the mirror, slathering on some concealer, mascara, and lip gloss.
You then dig through your bag, retrieving a brush, running it through your hair and attempting to look human, to look…
“Damn, intern, you look hot.” Gojo’s voice comes behind you, you gasp, jerking and dropping the brush, it clatters to the floor. He smirks at you.
“You scared me, shit!” He bends down, grabbing your brush, and for a moment his breath hits your bare thighs, you tremble as he looks up at your bare legs, taking his time to stand.
“Nice stems.” He says, you roll your eyes, snatching up the brush.
“Oh hush.” You turn, running it through your hair once more, peering at Gojo’s reflection, feeling how small you are compared to him in that mirror. “You bringing Miwa to the party?”
“She’ll be there I’m sure, but I told you, we aren’t dating. One blow job doesn’t make a girlfriend.”
“Only one, hmm? You have more stones to collect.” He chuckles, shaking his head, you turn then, slinging your bag over your shoulder, far too close to him. “God, you always smell good.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing!” You panic, shoving past him, and he is grinning far too big now, taking off his white lab coat, revealing those strong muscles, veins popping out under the pale skin, and since when are veins attractive!?
Everything about him is.
Be immune to the charm.
“I wanna show you something before you go, can you wait just a second? Or so eager to get to the party?” He asks, going to his locker, sliding off his shirt, your throat goes dry, you look quickly away.
“Just eager to make sure they don’t destroy my house.”
“Are you giving me a tour of your room?”
“No infinity stones to be found here.” He snorts, you look back and see him in his boxers, looking away again.
“All right, I’m decent. You’re cute when you blush.”
“I’m just… overheated.”
“Uh huh.” You look to see him now, as he shuts his locker and he’s wearing a dark blue dress shirt, black slacks and boots, he runs a brush through his hair, you’re entranced as his silky strands slide through so effortlessly. “There, all done, how do I look?”
“You look good, Gojo. You always do though.”
“Sure do.” You can’t help but laugh, he’s ridiculous. He grabs his wallet, shoving it in his pocket, holding out a hand. You look at it. “Come on.”
“Oh, fine. It better be good I’m already running late.” You put your hand in his, and he drags you down several halls, until you’re both in an elevator, still holding hands, you pull yours away, glaring at him. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Gojo.”
“Ouch, you wound me, mean little intern.” He puts a hand on his chest. “I’m so offended, I didn’t say that to you!”
“You fuck whoever, and that’s cool, I get it. You’re hot, and this job is stressful as shit.”
“You think I’m hot, hmm?” He leans close, far too close, you glare at him again, pushing on his chest, ignoring how good his muscles feel under your palms.
“You know you are.”
“Yeah, I do. And of course I wanna fuck you, look at you. But I also just want to… get to know you.” He cups your face, and your eyes shut for just a moment. “I know you’re a goodie goodie.”
“Am not.”
“So you’re freaky?”
“You won’t find out.”
“Oh no?”
“Nope.” He leans closer, and your chin tilts up, lips just a breath from him, so close you taste his sweet breath.
“Then why do you look like you wanna kiss me so bad, intern?” He murmurs, you lean even closer, before the elevator stops, and you step back, struggling to compose yourself, turning away. “Aw, you okay?”
“Fuck you, Dr. Hojo.”
He laughs once more. “Come on, I’ll stop teasing.”
“You’re such an ass.” You huff, stomping out, then pausing when you realize where you are. “The maternity ward?”
He smiles, hand now gently holding your inner arm, you ignore how good his hand feels on your bare skin. “I think you should see something.”
Soon he’s led you to a room, then you see them.
Yula holding her little baby.
“Oh my god.” You smile up at him, he studies you carefully, nodding over to where they’re sitting in the hospital bed.
“Go say hi, you deserve it.” His hand is at the small of your back, as you walk inside the room, Gojo stays at the doorway, watching you. Yula lights up when she sees you, grinning so big.
“You downplayed what you did, everyone is calling you a miracle worker, Doctor.” She says to you, you shake your head, stopping in front of them, looking at the beautiful baby boy, his cherubic little cheeks hollowing as he sucks on a bright blue binkie, then you look back at Yula.
“It was nothing, just my job.”
“No, it wasn’t nothing. If not for you… I…” She blinks back tears now, and you barely hold in your own.
“Don’t upset yourself, please. You have been through a lot, mama.”
“You should hold him!” Yula says.
“Me? I…”
“Here.” She sits up carefully, and you pick up the little boy, Yula smiles at Gojo and waves him in. “His name is Gojo.”
“What?” Gojo blinks a bit himself, coming to stand beside you and looking down at him, Gojo carefully brushes the baby’s cheek, his hands bigger than the little baby almost. You smile up at him, and for a moment, your eyes lock, then you both flush, looking away. “After me?”
“Yes, you were amazing. I’d have named it after you if it was a girl!”
“Oh, goodness. He is handsome, huh Gojo?” You coo to the baby, Gojo’s hand again comes to the small of your back, he is leaning over your shoulder, looking down at the bundle in your arms.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Knowing you did a good thing here.” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod then, smiling back at him.
“Thank you for this, Gojo. And thank you, Yula.”
“Thank you both, you're getting Christmas gifts from me.” You both laugh softly, saying your goodbyes, and when the elevator closes again, you let the little tears fall. Satoru swipes at them, and you sigh.
“Fuck it.” You yank him down by his shirt, kissing his lips, expecting it to feel nice, or good… but instead, it’s electrifying, as if little shocks are radiating throughout your entire body. Satoru exhales, deepening the kiss, pressing you against the wall, hands at your waist, peering back to look down at you, to take a breath.
“Fuck…” He murmurs softly, brushing your cheek with his long fingers, running a thumb over your lower lip. “What did I do to earn something that sweet?”
“You did a lot for me. Thank you.” He kisses your lips again, but now his tongue slips in, and you feel desire pooling in your core, especially when his hands are trailing up your sides, and his tongue is dancing with yours. You pull back, gasping. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t fucking apologize. Please.” He kisses you deeper now, and you lose yourself for that moment, his teeth on your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around his neck as he bends low. Your hands entwine in that silky hair, the hair you have wondered how good would feel under your fingers, his thigh coming between your thighs. “Oh my god…”
“Mmm.” You whine out, pathetic, hips arching up, and you feel him, his hard thigh, those hands overtaking you, tasting him, a hand enwrapping in your hair.
“You’re so hot there…” He murmurs, a hand sliding down your tummy, making it tremble, and you are questioning everything, until the elevator dings, and you both pull away quickly, but Satoru looks completely affected, eyes dilated, his breaths heavy as they come out, mirroring you.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Yeah you should have.”
“No… but thank you. Really.” You touch his shoulder gently. “I will not be an infinity stone.”
“Think you’d be the whole gauntlet.”
“Oh whatever. Forget that, please.”
“No way.”
You both are walking out to your cars then, you’re fucking insane, you kissed Satoru Gojo, your boss! You kissed him. He’s walking you to your car now, opening your door, and you can barely meet his pretty eyes, so embarrassed. “I really shouldn’t have done that.”
“You were feeling something, emotions, gratitude… attraction.” He practically says the word like a caress, you feel it physically. “More probably. What’s wrong with feeling things?” He asks then, and you sigh.
“Feeling things for someone who you can’t be with, that sounds like torture.”
“Is it all that?”
“Yes. You should… forget it.”
“I’m not forgetting it. I’ll see you there?” You nod, shy as fuck now, surprised at yourself, touching your lips when you shut the car door, his kiss is lingering on your lips, like some drug you crave.
You gasp when he’s still standing there, grinning at you through your window. You roll it down, scowling. “Go on!”
“You were thinking about it.” He says in a sing-song voice.
“Was not!”
“Mmm, naughty intern-”
You rev up your loud ass car. “Can’t hear you!” He’s grinning far too big when you drive off, heart pounding.
You kissed your boss, and now you’re going to a party with him?
You have lost your mind?
“Bitch, you look so hot.” Maki runs over to you, shoving a questionable red solo cup in your hands, making you wince.
“Bad memories. You look hot too!” You kiss her cheek now, as there are people all over your house, dancing, laughing, most of whom you have no clue who they are. Some loud bass music is blaring, and it’s giving you a bit of a headache, but the energy is good, and you can see your roommates enjoying themselves.
Yuta is taking shots with Toge, you both walk over as Maki takes a sip from her own cup, her eyes sparkling. “Drink it!”
“Oh fine.” You take a sip, feeling the sweet, fruity drink. At first it’s fine, but then you can feel the burn of the alcohol. “Not bad.”
“Yeah, yeah, chug it bitch.”
“No!”
“Then take shots, pretty.” Yuta says, and you giggle, shaking your head. “What, you look pretty? Both of you do.”
“Pretty.” Toge says, blush on his cheeks when you kiss one, then Yuta’s.
“Aww thank you all.” Toge runs off then, leaving you confused, staring at Yuta and Maki who are whispering to each other. “What’d I do!?”
“He’s got it bad.” Maki says, seriously.
“What? No.”
“He does, poor guy. No chance.” Yuta says, you sigh.
“You all are silly, he does not. I would know, I live with him. He’s just a little… shy sometimes.”
“Exactly. You’re so evil to men.” You stick your tongue out at Yuta.
“Whatever! Am not.” You sip your drink, it starts tasting less biting as the alcohol warms your tummy.
“You’re mean as shit to Gojo. He’s got puppy dog eyes for you.” Maki says, as Satoru now walks in, Suguru right next to him.
“He has eyes for everyone.” You flush then, remembering the elevator vividly, as Satoru’s eyes catch yours across the room. “He’s my boss. Our boss.”
“The entire hospital is fucking.” Maki says, earning your look at her and Yuta, your eyes narrowing, assessing how close they are. “Not us!”
“Oh, you two so are. Since when!?” They both flush and look away, you cross your arms now, leaning forward. “In my house, terrible children.”
“Fuck off, you’re not our mom.” Maki sticks her tongue out.
“How long!”
“Like two weeks, chill.” Yuta clears his throat.
“I see something… over there.” Is all he says, then he leaves, and you scooch closer to Maki now.
“I tell you something, you tell me.”
You lean close, looking back at Satoru, Miwa is bouncing over to him, but for some reason he keeps looking at you, eyes shouldn’t be so intense you see them across the whole living room and dining room!? You have a pretty big house, but it seems small with this many people, overheating the area.
“Fine, we’ve had sex a lot, but only for a couple weeks, we’re not labeling it anything.”
“Oh…” You struggle to understand how your best friends are… hooking up. It doesn’t surprise you completely, though. “Not dating?”
Maki rolls her green eyes. “It doesn’t always have to be a relationship, you’re so old school.”
“Am not. I just… have a five date rule or so.”
“Bet Doctor Hojo breaks it.”
“Maki!”
“Time for your secret, and a shot.” She pours you both tequila, you shiver as you remember college with Maki, the amount of nights you’d both held each other’s hair as you got sick. “Don’t wuss out, you’re the hero doctor now.”
“Am not at all. Fine, bottoms up.” You both take shots down your throat, biting on your lemons now. “Blegh.”
“Baby.”
“I won’t tell you then!” You hiss, and she yanks you to her.
“You will!”
“Oh fine. I kissed him, there I said it.” You whisper, looking around fervently, as if someone can hear you whisper over booming music, Maki barely hears you, but she sees your gaze darts to Satoru, and his gaze hits you.
“Oh fuck… that’s so messy, you gonna hit it?” You shush her as he starts to walk toward you all, luckily he keeps getting stopped, everyone loves Doctor Gojo and him and Doctor Geto are getting swarmed by nurses and interns.
“No, no… it was a kiss. Maki he was so great to me yesterday, I think I really like him, but I can’t.”
“You can, just gotta be careful babes.”
“No, he’s… Maki he’s a slut.”
“Rude.” Sartoru says then, and you nearly spit out your drink, coughing then, Maki’s grin is huge, she pushes her glasses up, eyeing Gojo then.
“Hey Dr. Hunk.”
“It’s Dr. Hojo.” You glare at her, and Satoru slings an arm around your shoulders, lanky limbs overtaking you.
“She’s mean as hell, your bestie.” He says to Maki.
“She is, that's why I love her. Hmm, you should have shots with us!”
“Sounds good-”
“What, no!”
“Why? Scared I’ll out drink you?” He asks.”
“You absolutely could, I suck at drinking.”
“Even better, loosen you up-”
“Shots!” Maki hands you both shot glasses now, and you both down them, Satoru then bites a lemon and it’s far too sexy how he does, you feel your tummy clench just watching him suck one. “Hmm, I see… something over there.”
Maki dips now, leaving you alone with Satoru, and you don’t even know what to say, so nervous next to him. You keep looking at his lips, then down, and he surely notices, as they curl into a smirk. “You gonna give me the tour, pretty?”
“Pretty, thought I was just ‘intern’ to you.”
“You’re pretty, very pretty, little intern.” Satoru bars you against the counter now, and your hips shift side to side. “Aw, excited?”
“Shush. People can see!”
“Everyone’s fucking in this hospital.”
“No kidding.” You pout as you look at Yuta and Maki. “Some right in my own damn house.”
“You’re like an angry mom.”
“Hey!” You shove at him now, and then you see him sip a drink, watch that adam’s apple bob, and fuck…
Gojo’s gorgeous, and you haven’t had any in forever.
Usually you’re good, a nice smut story and a vibrator, but he does something to you, that makes you forget who you are, where you are. You still ease out of his trap now, sighing and shaking your head. “Not here.”
“Oh, not here? Are you planning on seducing me, intern?”
“Psh, you wish. I mean… we can talk somewhere else.”
“Talk, huh. That’s what the twenty somethings call it.”
“You’re so ridiculous, ugh… I mean… talk. Will Miwa get mad?” You ask, and he rolls his eyes.
“You really seem to think a blow job equals dating.”
“Yeah, well she’s already not a fan of me.” You take his hand now, walking him down the hall, where there are indeed people making out, including Miwa. You blink a bit then, and Satoru leans in close.
“Told you. The hospital is slutty.”
“Not me.”
“You’re so different.”
“Fuck off.” You laugh softly though, continuing through the hall, pointing at a room now. “Down there is the basement, where I hide my bodies.”
“Called it, serial killers have those steady hands.” You stick your tongue out, enjoying holding his hand far too much, he seems just as enamored as you, following you through each hall.
“There is Maki’s room, Yuta’s is there, and Toge’s is across from mine.”
“He’s in love with you, you know that yeah?”
“Why do people think that? He’s just a sweetie. And this… well this was my parents room, I just leave it be.” You murmur then, taking another sip of your drink, and Gojo frowns now.
“Can I see it?”
“Um… it’s all covered in sheets since forever, dusty and abandoned unfortunately so… nothing to see.”
“Curious if you look like your mom or dad.”
“Are you?” He nods a bit, and you bite your lip, shaking your head. “I can show you a picture of them, I have one in my room.”
“Dad’s gone too?” He asks, and you sigh, nodding, walking into your room, feeling the intimacy suddenly of such an action. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, really. My grandparents raised me. They’re good, they just moved out to Florida, retired.”
“You’re alone here?”
“No, I have my friends. Here, this was them.” You show him a little picture then, it’s frayed at the edges, of your mom and dad holding each other at prom. “They were really young here.”
“She was beautiful, you do look like her.” You get misty eyed at that, touching the picture, before shaking your head.
“Fuck you’re supposed to be here for fun, not me crying. What’s with me today?” Satoru turns you to him then, after you put the picture down, and you exhale, desire killing you, it’s like something is pulling you to him.
“Nothing is wrong with feeling things. I didn’t come here for a party, I came here to get to know you.”
“Why do you want to? Maybe I’m boring.”
“I doubt all that. So you tell me, intern, what do you want to do? Talk, look at pictures, give me a blow job?”
“As if!” He laughs then, and you realize it then... “You’re cheering me up, aren’t you Gojo?”
“Mmhmm.”
“You do that. A lot.”
“I’m glad.”
“You also annoy me.” Satoru’s pressing your back against your dresser, and you’re all too aware how hard his body is, how he’s muddling your mind. “What you wanna like… just fuck as friends or something?”
“I didn’t say that. You assume. Maybe I want to kiss you all night.” Your head falls back, Satoru is kissing you again, this time you let yourself go, feeling every bit of him, the kiss is more messy, more desperate than the elevator. Your teeth are nipping at his lower lip, earning a soft moan, as he grips your hips tightly, thumbs pressing into your pelvis.
“Mnh, we shouldn’t…”
“We shouldn’t. But… you’re really ready.”
“Ugh.” You’re a blushing mess now. “It’s been a while and… you’re really hot and…”
He chuckles. “You’re adorable. Let me make you cum, then, hmm?”
“Wh-what now?” You gasp when he’s picking you up, hoisting you on the dresser, spreading your thighs. “Gojo…”
“Satoru.”
“Doctor Hojo.”
He smirks, hands trailing up your thighs, your head falls back just so, hair cascading down your back, sighing at how good it feels. “You’re a brat.”
“You’re the bratty one. What do you mean just… get me off.”
“Stress relief. Why not let me help? I am a doctor.” You blush furiously, and he smiles. “Cute.”
“I’m not your patient…”
“Roleplay.”
“You kinky little- ah!” Satoru slides his hand between your thighs, cupping you where your panties are, and he pauses, mouth open slightly, snowy lashes lowering over dark blue eyes in the dim room.
“You’re that wet from kissing?” He whispers, you shut your eyes, taking his hand, with every intention of pulling it off, but you just keep it there, around his strong wrist, feeling his pulse flutter under your thumb.
“I don’t do this.”
“I’ll just finger you.”
“You gonna get me off with your fingers?” His smirk is now a wicked grin, his fingers slipping under your panties, finding you slick and hot. He exhales.
“I know anatomy extremely well. And no, it doesn’t have to change things, I can still be professional.” He slips a finger inside your pussy now, you’re clenching around him, moaning, covering your mouth then. “Fuck you’re tight.”
“Pro-profes… you!? Not… mmm… fuck it, yes, there!” You’re arching your hips up, he is watching your every move intensely, analyzing you like you’re a medical case for him to solve, every breath you take, every movement of your hips, the way your brows draw together. He’s crooking his finger just so, and you see stars, gushing all around his long finger that’s too fucking deep.
“There’s that spot.” He leans close, sliding two fingers inside now, your pussy greedily sucks it up, your hands clinging to his expensive dress shirt, his lips just an inch away. “It’s not on any anatomy, is it, this spot? But yours is easy to find, pretty, right there.” He hits it again, and you’re getting closer and closer, whining out, pulling him closer.
“Mpfh.” You can’t manage a syllable, it’s too good, the stretch, his nearness, you crave him so bad you can’t think.
“Want me to make you cum?” He asks, sultry voice as much of a caress as his soppy fingers.
You nod eagerly, then he kisses you, pulling your hips down, pumping his fingers in and out, hitting the spot over and over. “Satoru…”
“Fuck that sounds good from your mouth.” He kisses down your neck, before whispering in your ear. “So this is a place on the human anatomy, your clitoris. There it is, it’s a tiny little thing.”
“Fuck!” You’re clinging to him desperate, pathetic, as his other hand reaches down, thumb circling your clit. Your eyes lock then, his pupils are so big there’s just a ring of blue, his eyes almost look black, his cheeks flushed.
“When I use both, it can overstimulate you, can’t it?” You mindlessly nod, tears in your eyes as he’s working you. “Hear how wet you are?”
“Mmm…” You’re done with words, his long fingers are too good, and you can hear how wet you are in your room, the squishing sound as he pumps inside your little walls, and you’re soaking his hands.
“I feel it, there, your pussy is tightening up, your nipples are rock hard, you’re biting that lip. You’re about to cum for me, aren’t you?” He murmurs, studying you still, and then you shatter, earning his moan along with your cries, as you feel your orgasm hit so hard you can’t see, just clinging to his dress shirt wordlessly. “Fuck you’re pretty, look at you.”
“Satoru!” You barely manage to focus, when he’s rubbing your pussy up and down between your lips, you jerk you’re so sensitive, you damn near could come again. “Fuck, fuck…”
“Sensitive?” You weakly nod, and now he is sliding his two fingers inside his mouth, sucking, and your jaw drops, breasts heaving. “You’re so yummy.”
“I am?” You whisper, he nods, and takes his other hand that was on your clit, rubbing your own arousal on your lower lip.
“Taste yourself and see.”
You lick your lower lip tentatively, pussy still pulsing around nothing, then he growls, grabbing you, kissing you over and over. You’re a fucking mess, so weak now, you want to say fuck it, suck him, touch him, do anything to make him feel good, you want him inside you.
Your legs are wrapping around his narrow hips now, hands shaking when you’re unbuttoning his shirt, fuck you’re so ready you can’t even remember anything you said you would or wouldn’t do.
“Want you.” You whisper weakly, he exhales, big hands cupping your face.
“Yeah?” You nod again, and he’s kissing down your throat now, pulling you flush against him, your throbbing cunt right against where you feel him, his hard cock under his pants, you weakly grind, mind fuzzy from him. “You feel so good, shit I thought you didn’t-”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Shit…” You hop up now, adjusting yourself, looking in the mirror to see your fucked out, dilated eyes, all glittery, your cheeks flushed, your hair a mess from his hands. “I look like I got fucked, dammit.”
“You didn’t yet, imagine how you’d look when I got done with you.” He’s kissing down your neck now, images flying in your mind, as the door keeps knocking, then you hear Maki’s words.
“Someone passed out! We need you, please!” Maki’s words are like cold water, you and Satoru both rush out without a second thought. “Fuck… I’m sorry-”
“No, what’s wrong?” You and Gojo ask at the same time, she looks between you both for a moment.
“It’s embarrassing…” She admits.
“What is?” You ask, as she leads you to Yuta’s room, confusing you further.
“I may have been riding him and…”
Yuta is passed out, half naked on the bed. “Maki, did you kill him with your pussy!?”
“No! Maybe.”
Satoru chuckles, going up to him then, and peeking at his neck. “Did you all get freaky?”
“No!”
“Maki.” You glare at her, shutting the door now. She flushes, tilting her head back and sighing.
“I choked him, he likes it!”
“I think he’s just zonked from it. He’s responding fine. Hmm…” He says your name then, the man that just had you cumming on his fingers…
Fuck…
“Grab some ice.” You run down stairs, come right back up with a cup of ice, handing it to Satoru confusedly. “Watch and learn, interns.”
Satoru now throws the entire cup of ice on Yuta’s face, and he sputters, waking up and gasping. Satoru’s evilly chuckling, Maki is damn near in tears, and you’re watching with ongoing confusion, alcohol setting in, post bliss orgasm, thrown off that you just found Satoru throwing ice attractive.
“Thank you, shit!” Maki hugs Gojo tightly, as Yuta flushes, looking around at the three of you.
“Maki! I was fine.”
“You scared me!” She’s kissing him then, deeply, and Satoru and you gently walk back, you close their door with a quiet click, sighing and looking up at him.
“What made you think to do that?”
“I’ve had freaky sex.” He teases. “I’m kidding, I just saw the marks from her fingers on his throat, put two and two together.”
“You’re like Sherlock Holmes.” He shrugs then, and his phone starts buzzing, he frowns as he looks at it. “What’s wrong?”
“I gotta head out, nothing big.” He leans close, and you look down shyly, lashes casting shadows under your eyes.
“Then good night, and be safe?” You say, he nods, running a finger over your swollen lower lip then. “Satoru…”
“You still owe me a date, I’m no hussy. Can’t have that and not go out with me.” You feel far too good now, as he’s asking you out.
“But we shouldn’t.”
“And you shouldn’t have been insane yesterday, but it worked. Be a little crazy, just… a date.” You nod then, and he leans his forehead on yours. “Also, your anatomy? Perfect.”
Your pulse thrums in your neck, chest tightening as he says it. “No, certainly not perfect…”
“Mmm, it is, and I would know. An expert on female anatomy.”
“Well thank you, slutty doctor.” He snorts, pecking a kiss on your lips, one that you would never be able to get out of your head.
“I expect a better tour sometime.”
“Keep dreaming. But… lunch, I agreed.”
“Sunday work?”
“Yeah.”
“Text you then.” Satoru leaves then, and leaves you leaning on the hall, suddenly the door opens, and Maki and Yuta peek their heads out.
“A date!?”
“You should be passed out, freaky asses.” You shove them back in their room, running off to yours as they try to bombard you with questions, you lay on your back, staring up at your ceiling, the glow sticker stars from your childhood still decorating the ceiling, you never did take them off.
You like him, you really like him. But you need your career, it’s just beginning, and would this just fuck it all up? Could you keep this shit separated? You can’t do this, you can’t…
Your eyes shut, flitting images of Doctor Gojo enjoying your anatomy filling your mind, keeping you up half the damn night, as you hear it get quieter, assuming the party has died off. You lay on your side, looking out at the window, seeing the moonlight shining through just so.
Your phone goes off, and it’s your stupid ex, earning your scowl, as you delete it, but then a new message pops up.
Doctor Gojo: Let me know if you need anatomy lessons again, intern.
You snort, shaking your head.
You: You wish!
Doctor Gojo: Hmm, still taste you.
You: Oh my god, good night Doctor Hojo!!!
You hate that your heart hammers in your chest as he hearts your message.
You’re so fucked.
Taglist: @lost-resonance @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @labelt-san @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @aldebrana @shadeowz @gojo1228 @victoriaaaa00 @jaeminaur @seeing-stars-alt
Part Three
#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu satoru#jjk satoru#gojo x reader smut#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#doctor gojo#doctor satoru#doctor au#jujustu kaisen#jjk smut#gojo jjk#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu gojo
513 notes
·
View notes
Text
chokehold
listen, I've had this idea in my wips for a while (since the begnining of the year actually) and the fat reader worms have been wiggling in third gear with all the awesome stuff early ( @391780 ) has been putting out lately. So have 6.4k words of Soap being an absolute pussy eating freak but you know you love him
(also on ao3 if you prefer the formatting there, or if you want to drop a kudo)
.
The second the doors swing back closed behind you, you start feeling the scratchy feeling of doubt at the back of your throat.
It was predictable, really.
A small gym in a small town, heads turn when the hinges creak, not because they’re staring at you specifically, but because it’s a reflex.
Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to keep the scratchy feeling from turning sour in your mouth. Or make you throw up from embarrassment.
Perhaps your New Year’s resolution should’ve been to start on a home gym type of situation. Buy yourself some girly weights, a mat, and some sort of stepping device, and do those easy exercises every slim, pretty, high-ponytailed YouTube instructor seemed to preconize people out of shape do. Like a hamster on a wheel inside their cage. A rat chasing its own tail, maybe.
No, you promised yourself no more fake promises. Perhaps the money spent on the gym membership (stupid fucking New Year’s promotion) would motivate you to use it, lest it’s just money down the drain.
You wore the stretchiest, thickest pair of black leggings you owned, hoping no one would see the terrible shape of your underwear through it. On the opposite spectrum of things, you knew the largest hoodie you owned would smother you and make you boil with sweat, so you chose the next best thing: the widest black t-shirt you owned. It was definitely not black enough, the dye faded into a dark gray from use over the years, but it was the only thing that camouflaged your body enough from the others’ sight. God forbid they imagine what your body actually looks like underneath.
The heads pretty quickly turned back around as you started walking towards the empty treadmills. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the combined weight of at least a dozen pairs of scrutinizing eyes would’ve been enough to make you turn on your heels and back to your car, fuck the membership price.
At the very least, you could convince yourself that walking in place (no better than a hamster on its wheel but oh well) would be enough to get you started. Baby steps, and all.
It doesn’t take long for you to realize the treadmill fucking sucks. Why would anyone suggest looking at a parking lot while suffering instead of the pretty scenery of a park or forest (while also suffering, but still).
The timer you’d set for the warm-up (ten minutes, just like the pretty blonde coach suggested!) crawls by way too slowly for your taste. You’d be all but whooping with joy when it beeps if you weren’t so out of breath and conscious of a gaze on you.
You’d seen him as soon as you walked in.
Between figures of balding men trying to get rid of their beer gut with abs, two thin women whispering to themselves in a corner while trying to look inconspicuous, and a few other, completely average-looking men and women, there he stands, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he deadlifts an impressive amount of black plates.
He immediately looks straight ahead, correcting his stance, as if there were anything to be corrected, in your unathletic opinion. The muscles in his arms bulge even through the thin, grey hoodie, and the ones in his legs coil tight as the weight is lifted off the ground in a slow, controlled motion. Not even a grunt escapes his lips, at least no one you could hear from where you stood, completely mesmerized.
There was always something almost unappealing about overly muscled men. Their wife’s not feedin’ ‘em enough, your granny would grumble when passing by the rows of magazines at the checkout of the supermarket.
Yet this man.
Yeah, he was muscled. But in a way, he looked… almost normal. Like he was built for strength, not necessarily vanity. Each bend of his legs, each twist of his arms…
You’d swoon if you hadn’t lowered your standards so low he’d trip on them. Accepted it a long time ago. Fats belong with fats, thins with thins, and if there’s a thin with a fat, either one’s getting fattened up, or the other’s getting dumped. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and one you’d rather not be a part of.
You walk with shaky legs to the water dispenser, then get ready to grab the second to lightest weights to try some bicep curls.
You try to remember the positioning from the videos. Rotate in… or out? Should the wrists be like this? You go through ten repetitions on each side, before you think that you should’ve gone for the abs straight away. God knows there’s fat to burn there, and that the flab under your arms can wait.
You turn back from the rack and walk straight into a wall.
No, a chest.
Fuck.
“Sorry there, miss,” says a deep voice. You detect some sort of accent, unable to quite place it right away.
Your eyes run up, instinctively stopping for a second at chest level (holy heavens that’s a Chest with a capital C if you’ve ever seen one) before finally meeting that same pair of eyes you met a few minutes ago, through the mirror.
Double fuck.
“S-sorry, it’s me, wasn’t watching,” you stammer out, gesturing to the weights in a panicked way. “Just, y’know, switching exercises,” you sputter with a nervous laugh, like it was a completely normal thing to switch exercises after one rep.
He chuckles, and you really need to start planning your escape, because holy shit the way his pectorals rise and fall as his chest puffs up is getting a bit too much for your poor little humiliated self to handle, but he doesn’t let you as he speaks in a soft tone.
“I’m getting arms aren’t really your thing, eh?” he asks, not unkindly. Gosh, did it have to be a Scottish accent?
You can’t meet his eyes, they’re too blue, too piercing for your liking. “To be fair I don’t know what’s my thing yet, I’m just starting out, y’know?” you shift your weight on your legs, conscious of the size difference, and not in the way you wanted to be. Your neck is very warm all of a sudden.
He laughs again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and you almost want the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but the words that come out of his mouth are completely unexpected.
“Figured! A girl with thighs like yours, I’m sure you can deadlift more than me with just a lil’ training. I’m Johnny, by the way,” he adds in passing, as if offering his name is the least of his concerns. “You ever got someone to train you?”
You’re entirely unsure if you’re dreaming or not. Did this Scottish hunk of muscle really just offer to be your personal trainer?
“Never - uh… lifted anything, I guess. Just when moving, my couch and bed and all, but I had a friend help me.” You definitely feel like you’re oversharing and you’re struggling to ignore the weight of the gaze of the two thin women, burning through you as they whisper among themselves, when you realize you hadn't answered the second part. “Oh and, uh– no. I’ve never… trained. Been trained. It’s my first time in a gym since- a while. I don’t want to bother you.”
You finally look up at him, and you’re unable to read his expression. There’s a sort of curiosity, a fascination, that blends fast into a wide-eyed joy that’s so open, so sincere that it makes your head spin as he gently but firmly grabs your wrist and pulls you where his bar stands on the thick mat, ignoring your sputtering protests. “Not a bother at all, lass!” He lets go of you as he bends down and effortlessly racks the barbell, starting to remove plates as he continues. “We can start by measuring your max lift, then the one where you can easily do three reps, then we’ll hike it up till failure, so I can calculate your starting training weight!” he rambles on excitedly. You nervously shift on your feet, conscious of more curious gazes on you, but then he’s back in your bubble, pulling your attention towards him like a magnet.
His smile is like a blazing sun, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to prepare for disappointment.
He’s infinitely patient as he shows you how to place your feet, and the angle of your hips (oh, how you feel your knee weaken at the feel of his light tough through the leggings, nothing short of electrifying, despite being perfectly friendly), the hold on the bar. It’s all a blur till you find yourself bent over in front of him, looking in the mirror at your position and trying not to feel conscious of the way he’s placed behind you. Or let your mind wander in inappropriate places.
“Whenever yer ready, hen.”
You brace yourself, close your eyes for a brief second, wondering how the hell you’d landed on this planet, then breathe in, open your eyes-
The weight is in your hands. Not on the floor. You’re holding it.
You almost drop it when he cheers behind you, warm palms rubbing down from your shoulders to your elbows and back up. “Easy! I told you you’d be a natural! ‘S all in the legs and you’ve got awesome legs, bonnie! Let’s add twenty more.”
It’s a blur of racking and de-racking and lifting once and setting back, and redoing it again and again. You’re out of breath, sweating like a sinner in church, but you’re smiling along with him, finding yourself giving him double high fives, and doing small, excited jumps.
“Next one’s exactly my weight, if y’can lift that, I’ll be losing my bloody mind! D’you realize how well yer doin’ for a first-timer?” He says as he bends next to you, adjusting the bar for the next set of weights. With a wipe of his forearm over his forehead, he crouches slightly down, placing his head right above your shoulder and looking your reflection in the mirror straight in the eyes with a conspiratory grin. “Swear to God, if ye can lift it off the ground, I’m buying you the most expensive drink at the bar next door!” he says, grin blending into a blinding smile, too genuine for your own good.
He’s just friendly, just friendly, just friendly, you say to yourself like a mantra as you position yourself. He stands again to his full height behind you, hands ready under the bar, a safenet.
Deep breath in– hold it…
Slowly but surely, you lift the weight off the floor, your ears ringing from the effort. You see his lips move as he cheers you on, but the blood pumping in your eardrums makes it impossible to hear him. Suddenly, the weight is back on the ground and your feet are off the floor as you’re lifted in a tight embrace and spun around like you weigh nothing.
You yelp and flail but he’s holding you tight, face pressed smack-dab in the middle of your chest, between your tits, rumbling praises about your prowess while you’re trying to figure out whether this can be something that your brain is capable of summoning as a dream.
“Put me down, Johnny, oh my God, put me down!”
He thankfully complies but not before squeezing your ass tighter, and suddenly nothing feels real anymore.
“Jesus, I knew ye were perfect,” he says, pulling back reluctantly to rerack the bar and put back the weights. “I cannot wait to properly start training ye’ tomorrow, but for now, I have a promise ta’ keep, and, uh, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind using those strong thighs as earmuffs with this freezin’ weather. On the way back from the bar, what d’ya say?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a crooked smile that lets you know he’s joking around. (Is he?)
You laugh with him and for a second, you forget what you were here for.
+++
The way to the bar is short. It was just a block away (Good for business, he jokes), but the conversation with Johnny made time really fly by.
He seems genuinely glad when you tell him you’d decided to head to the gym not just as a New Year’s resolution, but trying to simply become a better you. There’s no condescendence, no talking down, no (God forbid) pity, just an overall nice interaction the whole time. He tells you about being on leave as a soldier (Medical leave, he specifies, a fucked up knee can work in a gym, but it’s a different story out in the field), you tell him about your studies and how that led into a “big girl” job that left you no time for yourself.
“But I’ve always been a big girl,” you feel the need to justify. “Just… gotten bigger as I stopped finding time to move. The desk and the laptop are pretty stationary,” you joke, still trying to make sense of why a man like him (broad, and tall, and strong, and… gosh, just perfect-looking) would even deign to accept being seen with you.
(It’s not a date, you dumbass)
“I happen to like big girls,” is what you don’t expect him to say.
Wait, what?
His blue eyes glue you to your seat, and you respond dumbly. “What?”
“I mean, why do you think I’d offer to train you?” he continues, placing his hand, big and warm over your thigh. It’s squished as you sit, wide and flattened in your seat, yet his hand covers a good amount, almost covering the whole width.
Your brain is short-circuiting but you have to answer something.
“Out of– uh… out of niceness?” you stammer out, feeling your insecurities climb back out of the hole they’d been sleeping in all this time, making you shrink even more, trying to cover yourself as if he didn’t see right through you with that piercing gaze. “To feel good seeing you be the reason I lose weight?”
He chuckles, squeezing your thigh as his head hangs down, almost as if to hide the smile that spreads on his lips.
“Strength training doesn’t work like that, bonnie.” He looks back up, and his eyes are blue, and wide, and so pretty, that you can’t find anything to argue back. “Ye’ think building glutes underneath that fat arse does anything but make it bigger?” He shifts, inching closer as he licks his lips and drops his voice lower. “Ye’ think growing your quads will make this,” he gives an even firmer squeeze, wiggling the fat back and forth, and you tense under his grip, but he’s got you pinned down, “any less wide and soft?”
He presses closer, and the booth has no escape room, you’re practically squeezed into the corner as he pushes his body against yours, bending to whisper lowly in the crook of your neck.
“I did not joke when I said I want yer pretty thighs wrapped tight around my head.”
You can’t be blamed when you don’t remember how you ended up in the back of a cab, Johnny barely taking the time to bark an address to the poor driver and throw fifty quid on the front seat before kissing you absolutely senseless, shamelessly groping your tits with a hand and wrapping the other around your thigh, squeezing you close.
You should probably think more about going home with basically a stranger, no matter how hot, but when he presses his entire palm against your cunt, cupping it over the quickly dampening pair of leggings that didn’t seem so thick anymore, you can’t think at all. He swallows your quiet moans, and hums contently against your lips, taking each gasp for air as an invitation to slither his tongue into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten what a good makeout session was like, and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed when you see the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, instantly looking away when you see him staring.
Johnny doesn’t seem to mind either, and when he notices you looking in the front again and again, he crowds you against the door behind the driver with a huff, half-climbing over you until his knee is pressed against your core, and the only thing in your field of vision is him.
“Johnny,” you try to say, but it’s getting hard to think, with the way you’re being squeezed in a corner, this hunk of a man of pure muscle pressing against you like a weighted blanket, kissing you like you were a drop of water in the desert and he was a parched man drinking you for his salvation. You feel his excitement pressed against your thigh, and it gives you enough lucidity to try again. “Johnny,” you gasp out again, “aren’t we going a little fast?”
He laughs instead, choosing to focus on the side of your mouth, pressing fervent little kisses down your neck before starting to suckle the delicate skin over where your clavicle is. “I can go as slow as you’d like, bun.” He takes the spot an inch next to the previous one into his mouth and sucks again, this time more forcefully, marking you, and oh God you’re going to have to conceal it before work tomorrow, unless you can find a turtleneck to wear–
The cab driver clears his throat, and you notice that the car is stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Johnny says a cordial thanks as he pulls you out of the car and throws another twenty on the backseat, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and taking all of the thinking out of the equation as he walks you to the entry.
His flat is pretty well furnished, all things considered, but he doesn’t give you enough time to observe the deco as he presses you against the door and slides his hand under your leggings.
“Got me starin’ at that ass the second you walked in, best fuckin’ thing I’ve seen in months, d’ye realize that, bonnie?” he breathes out against your ear as his entire palm cups your sex, and you can only whine as you press your forehead into the crook of his neck. “And by how wet this pussy is, I think you liked starin’ at me, too.”
“You are–” you say, but he curls his middle finger in, spreading your lips and spreading the wetness to your clit, making you choke on your words, “-very nice to stare at.”
“Yeah?” you hear the grin in his voice.
“Mmhm,” you nod, as he keeps the back and forth of his finger, never dipping in too far, just keeping you hungry for more.
“Then how’d ye like to stare down at me as I taste this wet cunt of yours?” he purrs in your ear as he stops moving completely, letting the words process.
Brain.exe has stopped functioning.
Had you ever had a boyfriend willing to speak filth like that to you when you were down to do the deed, maybe you would’ve gotten enough practice to know what to answer something sensible and intelligible to that, but as it stands, all you can muster is a very dumb-sounding “Huh?” as you stare back at him.
And that, apparently, is the funniest thing in the world to him, because he dips his head down and laughs, almost like a boyish giggle. Not only does that not stop him from kneeling in front of you, but it also somehow gives him more confidence to keep talking like that.
“How about you look down into my eyes as I eat out your pretty little pussy and make you come around my tongue, how’s that sound?” His baby blues bear no trace of maliciousness, no trace of a joke, as his fingers hook around the waistband and trace it around your stomach. You have to make a very conscious effort not to suck it in immediately in preparation for the letdown, but he doesn’t pull them down yet, only moving his hand alongside the edge. Your silence as you try to process what is happening only seems to spur him on instead. “In fact, how about you close your eyes, I close mine, and you hold my head close as I devour you, would you let me do that, pretty girl?”
“I’m not-” you can’t think of any way to properly let him down, not when he looks up with such pleading eyes, so the words stumble out gracelessly. “I’m sweaty, you don’t wanna–”
But he interrupts as he pulls your leg closer by gripping your thigh and squishing it against his cheek “But I do.” He inhales deeply, and your own breath shakes at the sight of how blissed out he already looks. “God, I want it. Let me have this.”
A voice somewhere inside yells at you that this has to be some sort of weird fetish, and that he most certainly won’t be having the same aura of desperation around him tomorrow, when post-coital rationale shows up and he sees your body past the veil of lust, but for now, you think that getting some with Johnny cannot be that bad compared to any one of your past encounters. Might as well enjoy it when you still can.
You wrap your hand around the one he still has around your waistband, and see his face positively light up as you softly caress his cheek.
In the end, you’re the one that pleads.
“Johnny, please.”
Your pants are off you and your leg is over his shoulder before you realize what is happening.
The feel of his warm tongue against your slit makes any thought, any doubt, any fear positively vanish, and the content sigh that he lets out as he licks at you is the same sigh as finally removing a bra at the end of a long day, it’s the sigh of laying down carelessly onto a soft bed after standing up for hours, it’s the sigh of the first bite of the best meal a man has after starving for weeks.
It should be awkward the way his arm wraps around your thigh and sinks into the softness of your stomach, using it to pin you up as he uses his other hand to spread you out enough for him to work his jaw the same way he did when he was making out with you in the car… Yet it’s not. It’s natural, the way his hand squeezes you as he licks, and sucks, and kisses around your pussy, unhurried yet passionate, languidly but firmly, pressing his tongue in, licking around your lips, and maddeningly avoiding the place you wanted him to touch most.
“Johnny,” you moan as he grazes his teeth around your sensitive nub in response. You almost buck out of his hold, but he’s firmly keeping you in place. “Please, don’t tease.”
He hums in response and dives back in, eyes fluttering closed as he ignores your whines. Every time his tongue or lips graze your clit, he works his mouth the opposite way, holding your thigh harder and pressing his palm up as he counters your hip movements with a clever swipe of the tongue. It’s absolutely maddening. “Johnny, please!”
He chuckles as he pulls back, an obscene string of spit lengthening as he pulls back, only breaking when he runs his tongue against his reddened, swollen lips. “Thought ye’ wanted me ta’ go slow, bun.” His eyes sparkle with challenge, but you can also discern a veil of unhidden desperation, of waiting for you to give the go-ahead for him to let loose.
“I’m fine with faster–” you start, but the words dissolve into a barely restrained moan as he hikes your leg up more, getting you closer to him, and immediately singling onto your neglected clit.
His forehead rests onto your belly now, and if you had more than two functioning neurons you’d wonder how he is that he’s breathing, but his hums and moans let you know that he’s perfectly content burrowing his nose in your pussy, nudging at your clit with the tip of it as he licks you with all the dedication you’ve never been shown from a man of his caliber.
He builds it up, and soothes it down, knowing exactly when to put more pressure, or when to teasingly swirl his tongue around your entrance, or to lave broad strokes of his tongue, so much so that the knee that’s not hooked over his shoulder almost gives out on a particularly forceful suck of your clit.
“Easy there,” he groans almost petulantly, as if you’re interrupting him. “Can’t have you fallin’ over when I’m not done wit’ ye.”
“My legs are gonna give out,” you say honestly, trying to catch your breath and avoid having the perfect man at your feet steal it again. “You’re a bit too good at this.” He grins up at you, “Am I?” and you want to give you a playful swat, but instead decide on carding your fingers through his now disheveled mohawk. “Guess the mess on my face speaks for itself… Shall we take this to the bedroom?”
You throw a glance around the apartment, assessing your options. “Couch is closer.” His smile is blinding. “I like how ye’ think.”
It’s now the second time he surprises you by scooping your legs from under you and picking you up like he couldn’t wait any longer and that carrying you bridal-style was the only way he could think of moving you. You yelp out a protest but he swallows it with another hungry kiss, shamelessly smearing your own wetness over your cheek as he walks you both to the couch.
You sink into the cushions where he places you gently without so much as a grunt of effort, and oh God, there they are, the standards are rising.
You reach over to pull him closer as he straightens up, but he only gives you a peck on the lips in return, like he hadn’t been kissing you sloppily the entire time.
“Come back,” you whine, hoping you can get it done before he comes back to his senses, like they all do, but he just smiles and kneels between your feet, hands pressing your thighs apart. The squelch of your lips parting should be embarrassing were he not looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, eyes full of adoration, like a child staring up at the full moon on full display on a clear night’s skies. Maybe you are his moon, his goddess, judging by the lust-clouded look directed at you.
“I did say I was gonna make you come on my face,” he says lowly, the gravel in his voice making you squirm as he places a trail of kisses up your thigh. “And I intend to keep that promise.”
With that, he dives in again, using his forearms to pin your legs open on the couch and his fingers to tease around where his tongue can’t reach. You mewl when you feel his tongue at your entrance, circling it around it briefly before delving in as deep as he could, his right hand stroking your clit rhythmically. The fact that he’s so good at somehow playing all your buttons like a maestro directing an orchestra has you thinking that he must be some sort of womanizer, some freak who does this kind of thing every night, but then his lips wrap around your nub and he gives a firm, long suck, and any restriction that you could’ve conjured up simply vanishes. Your thighs want to close around his head, but you can’t move under the iron grip he has on you.
You fist his hair more forcefully than necessary, and he looks up, wet eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes as he hums in response.
“Please,” you moan, and he hums affirmatively again, closing his eyes to focus on licking and suckling harder. He heard you, he simply doesn’t seem to care. “Johnny.”
“What,” he asks, voice muffled and why is this so hot?
“I need… I need,” you whine, unable to string the words together, and desperately trying to buck your hips under him, for lack of strength to actually close your thighs how you want to.
That seems to get his attention, and he chuckles, before pulling back with a gentle kiss on your mound. “Guess you’ll have to keep tryin’, pet,” he sussurs, a condescending pat on your thighs before he dives in slower than before.
Oh, the absolute asshole. Now he wants you to work for it?
You think that doing the opposite, relaxing your thighs open and letting him go to town however he wanted would help, but he seems hell-bent on riling you up every once in a while, getting you closer and closer with each lave of his tongue over your poor, overstimulated clit, but never enough to actually push you over the edge.
After what seems like an eternity, and almost, almost starting to think that this was a mistake, halfway ready to let him do this thing before your hip starts to cramp up, you feel a finger nudge at your entrance.
“Fucking finally–” you start, ready to curse him out, but he’s faster than you can think in your blissed-out state, and he slides a second finger alongside the first one, immediately zeroing in on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed and buck under his hold.
“Thassit– there you go, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your clit, and oh, okay, maybe you were closer than you thought, because the rhythmic curl of his fingers doesn’t need to last long before you’re off like an arrow, back arching and thighs squeezing, coming harder than you ever thought was possible. If he were any less skilled at making you completely lose the ability to think, you’d maybe notice that you’d managed to close your thighs almost completely around his head, but he wasn’t, so you don’t, twitching helplessly in the aftershocks of the most wonderful orgasm a man had ever given you.
Limbs that somehow still belong to your body hang uselessly off the side of the couch, and you struggle to catch your breath. You blink lazily, noticing him smugly wipe his face with the back of his hand, his half lidded eyes not any less blissed-out than yours.
You didn’t believe a man like this ever existed, until now. It aches that this might not be something that would last, so you make grabby hands at him, unable to find the will to speak just yet.
He laughs softly and gently grabs your arms, kissing from your knuckles slowly up your arm, to the crook of your neck. The patience he has is almost inhuman, as he takes the time to let you regather your senses, matching the marks he made earlier on the other side of your neck. You cup your hand around his head in response, and he smiles at you.
“Ye’ with me, bun?”
“Mmhm.”
“That slow enough fer’ ye’?” He holds himself up, an inch fron your face, and you reach up to kiss him.
“I’m gonna kill you dead,” you mutter against his lips, and he chuckles.
“Let me at least fuck you properly, first,” he whispers, and you notice that he’s long since unbuttoned his pants. You barely get a view of the massive size of him over your belly as he holds himself in his hand, large palm not enough to cover the whole length of him as he strokes himself, angled in such way that his tip rubs against your clit on each downstroke. The word “Please,” is not even halfway out of your mouth when he sinks into you in one swift motion, the rest dissolving into a long, drawn-out moan.
“Fuck-” he grunts, “so tight, cannot believe it.”
He guides one of your legs to wrap around him, keeping it flush against his body with his elbow as his palm grips your ass tightly, the other holding him against the backrest, forearm near your head as he pulls you closer for a sloppy kiss as he starts rolling his hips. You moan into his mouth and he swallows them greedily, leveraging each trust of his hips with a pull with his hand, helping you move in tandem with him, readjusting when your thigh threatens to slip out of his hold. The slaps of his pelvis to yours should sound obscene, his hard muscles hitting against your soft, jiggly skin, but his groans into your mouth are like music to your ears, the fact that he’s vocal about it has you almost reaching your peak again in no time, but he seems to sense it, and slows down immediately.
You try to kiss him harder, but he makes a small noise of protest, muttering something that sounds vaguely like “no, let me, let me just–” and you want to ask what he wants to do, to help him, but he instead reaches down both hands to grab your hips and pull you off the backrest. You yelp as your ass suddenly hangs in the air, his cock speared inside you the only secure point as he pulls you halfway off the couch, but he directs you firmly, “Here, around me,” helping you wrap your legs tightly as he starts thrusting again, harder than before.
“Oh, God, oh God,” you flail around, but each thrust in pushes your back into the cushions, and he reaches behind his back to hold your feet in his hand as he presses his palm near your head for support, spewing more filth as he does.
“That’s it, hold me tight, squeeze my cock like ye’ almost squeezed mah heid off earlier, huh, bonnie? Show me what those thighs can do, fuck-”
Your whole body is jiggling with each thrust, and you don’t have it in you to even feel self-conscious with the way each time he fills you, the tip of his cock nudges against the spongey spot inside, making you mewl in tempo with his relentless rhythm.
“Johnny, Johnny,” you moan, and he bends over to kiss you again, swallowing his name like communion while you chant it like a prayer.
“Don’t give up now, bonnie, keep squeezin’, fuck, I can feel ye’, yer so close.”
You try to get some leverage with your upper body, trying to push yourself up the cushions, but his cock suddenly slips out of you as your thighs almost give out, and an apology is already halfway out your mouth when he kneels back down and burrows between your legs, tongue first with a rushed “Need ta’ taste us, fuck, both of us, together-”
One hand wraps around your hip and over your pelvis, reaching up to knead desperately at your stomach, to pull you closer or push you away, you can’t tell, the other pulling your lips apart to settle his entire lower face against your pussy firmly– before letting go as he starts humming.
Your thighs are free to squeeze around his ears, and he nods encouragingly as he keeps licking, and then you hear it: the sounds of wet stroking. You don’t see him fisting his cock, but you hear it, fast and desperate. As your hand tangles in his hair to pull him closer, and another hum– no, another moan vibrates through your core, it’s the last thing you hear before you’re absolutely gone, gasping out a curse as you tense up in his hold, trembling as you come.
It’s even more intense than the first one, and as you buck out of his hold, he stands up shakily, his hand moving faster and faster around his cock, the angry red of his tip at the same level as your face. You gesture for him to sit down, trying to signal to him that you want to reciprocate despite the post-orgasmic haze and exhaustion, but he shakes his head, and, seconds later, you feel warm wetness land on your belly and slowly trickle down as he moans your name when he comes.
You feel like you still have to give something back, and, when he slumps down next to you with a content sigh, you climb over to place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock, letting out a huff of laughter when it twitches under your touch.
“Ye’ absolute menace,” he whispers fondly as he pulls you up and tips his body to the side to lie down, using his legs to push you up halfway over him, trapping you between his body and the cushions, yet protectively shielding you from falling over. You place another kiss on his stomach, and you see his abs tense under your touch as your warm breath moves his hairs as you hover for a second, before deciding to shift up and use his pectorals as a cushion. He hums softly as his arm wraps around under yours, reaching to pull the plaid off the back of the couch and settle it around you both. Ticklish, eh? That’s a piece of information best stored for later.
You’re still breathless, absolutely done for. God, best decision of your life, going to the gym. “Now what?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the same fear that always creeps up, the fear that he got to try out a fantasy, and now that he was done with it, he had no need to want to continue anything possibly serious. Not that eating a girl out on a first date, if you could even call it a date, was a sign of a one-night stand, you can’t help but feel awkward and insecure now that it’s all done, despite the comforting cuddle.
He chuckles in response, that same chuckle from earlier in the day, a What a silly question chuckle. Like he’d read into your thoughts and insecurities and found them absolutely laughable.
“Same time at the gym, tomorrow? I want you to squeeze my head off next time.”
“Next time, huh?”
He pulls your leg over his pelvis, trapping his still half-mast cock between his belly and the crook of your knee, hand firmly wrapped to shift you up, almost completely on top of him. When both of you are comfortable and you start feeling the tendrils of sleep pull you deeper, he gives a last, playful squeeze to your ass.
“Next time.”
#cc writes#soap#soap x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#fat reader#chubby reader#john soap mactavish x fat reader#pwp#call of duty#fanfiction#call of duty fanfiction#cod fanfic#cod#plus size reader#john soap mactavish#my man knows how to eat pussy and he ENJOYS it#ignore my attempt at writing his scottish accent i tried okay?
560 notes
·
View notes
Text
fem!reader x older!tattooartist!eddiemunson
part 2 !
WARNINGS : smut 18+ pls ,, age gap (ages aren’t rlly mentioned but r is 21, e is 39) ,, p in v and all the stuff that comes w it ,, lots of petnames ,, use of yn!
A/N : first smut ive ever written. so scared rn. hope u all like it
———
you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely petrified walking into the small hallway containing each tattooist’s room. your legs were shaking and your heart was pounding, so much so that your vision blurred as you stepped up to your assigned room.
“eddie munson”, you could eventually make out from the sign on the door.
entering the spacious room, you look around and take in the darkened walls littered with various drawings, the long bed on the left side covered in cellophane and the faint sound of music playing.
it took you a while to finally catch sight of the mess of dark curls on the right hand side, bopping his head to the music slightly, small grey hairs shining in the light and his hand scratching his pencil against the paper below him.
“h…hi.” you voice squeaked out in a stutter, sounding completely different to how you usually speak.
“can i help you?” he barks out rudely, not even turning to look at you.
“oh i’m sorry, i must’ve got the wrong room. sorry for disturbing you.” you begin to back out of the doorway behind you, before his brown eyes shoot up and meet yours.
“shit- sorry sweet thing, thought you were maria from next door. c’mere, sit down.” he gives you a cheesy smile while his eyes widen slightly. “you my 2 o’clock, yeah?”
your palms shine with a thin layer of sweat, originating from both excitement and nerves. “mhm, should be under the name y/n.”
“gottcha sweetheart, beautiful name. what’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this, hm?”he rolls over in his chair to where you’re sat on the bed, placing his large palms over your trembling knees.
he smirks down at them before focusing on you, his pupils blowing out and looking at your lips every now and then.
“it’s m’first tattoo… can you tell?” you look up at him shyly through your eyelashes, his face intimidating you - not that you were scared of him, he was just really attractive.
“yeah, you’re shakin’ like a leaf doll, but i’m here to help ya stay calm. whattcha thinking of getting?” he tucks a stray hair of your behind your ear before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
god his arms were consumed in ink, only adding to his attractive qualities.
———
you spoke to eddie about the design, placement and all necessary paperwork before you were relaxed on the bed, laying on your side and watching the boy prep his tattoo machine.
you had a few voice cracks and stuttered a bit while talking to him, mostly due to his stare shrinking you, but he had made you feel extremely calm while prepping you.
“mkay doll, gonna need you to lift that shirt up a tad for me n’ we’ll get started. no rush, you tell me when you’re ready and when you wanna stop. can you do that for me darlin’?” his chair rolls back over to you, his gun ready to go.
you nod your head and reach down to grab the hem of your shirt. you’re stopped, however, when eddie’s calloused hand covers yours.
“words, sweetness. need you to use ‘em.” he taps your skull with his other hand, and pinches the hem of your shirt with the other.
you can’t deny the blush tickling your face is because of him slowly driving you insane, but you’re not going to stop him. “i can do that.”
“for me?” he tilts his head, crows feet creasing around his eyes as he smiles.
“for you.” your lips stay in the oval shape as he moves your shirt himself, yet you can’t take your eyes of his own lips. you have no idea how old he is. late 30s maybe? is this wrong? you shouldn’t feel attracted to someone like 18 years older than you… right?
he catches sight of the band of your bra, all cute and lacy. now it’s his turn to blush slightly. he can’t help the wicked grin spreading across his features, such a pretty girl wearing such a pretty bra.
“now you tell me if it hurts too much, wouldn’t want to cause such a precious girl like you so much pain.” he’s good at this. really good at this. your face was now beet red, and your thighs were unconsciously clenching together. you hoped he wouldn’t notice - he did. and it went straight to his ego.
———
you’re about 15 minutes into the tattoo itself. eddie taking his time and meticulously placing every line with care. you can’t help the small noises you make when it becomes particularly painful, once again hoping he didn’t notice.
he stops with a sigh, the faint bzzing making the silence grow louder, and the tension more suffocating. “sweetheart, if you don’t stop making those pretty noises i’m not gonna make it through this tattoo.”
his darkened pupils look up at you through his curls gracing his forehead. you didn’t know how to react, so you just stared at him with parted lips and slightly widened eyes. you, luckily, were too oblivious to notice the amount of times he had to adjust himself in his pants, and the prominent boner he was sporting right now.
he knew it was “unprofessional”, but he had never had a client like you before. you walk in with a cute little shirt and skirt, lacy underwear and give him doe eyes while moaning to yourself and expect him to not react?
“m sorry… didn’t realise i was doing it.” you look away from him, trying to focus on the artwork on the walls, but only being able to focus on the growing wet patch in your underwear. he has a way with words, and he’s incredibly attractive.
“don’t have to apologise, i like ‘em. but they’re driving me insane over here princess.” he leans down to meet your eyes in front of your head. the tension was so intense you were practically choking on it. he can’t help but reach over and trace your lips with his thumb, pulling your bottom lip down while you let him do it.
“so pretty.” he mumbles, leaning back and patting your thigh before reaching to finish the tattoo. “want you to lie just on your back now, yeah? nearly there doll.” and so you do, until the pleasure pain was so much that you were arching off the bed, your breasts nearly spilling out the top of your shirt.
eddie was glad he was wearing jeans that day, so the wet patch of precum in his boxers wouldn’t soak into their material. you, however, were not glad to be wearing a skirt with such easy access to your underwear, and the larger wet patch soaking them.
“fuck- baby you can’t keep doing that. you’re makin’ it real hard to concentrate over here.” he rubs his hand over his face and reaches for the cup of water on the small table next to him.
“…sorry.” you smile sheepishly. “can we… uh take a break?”
“course princess, you want anythin’?” by anything he means a snack or some water - but you’d hoped the offer was for something else.
you shake your head no before looking back up at the ceiling. that didn’t last long until you could feel someone’s eyes on you - eddie’s.
he was sat, legs spread and arm leaning on it, his veins prominent in the hand pinching his lip. but his eyes were the most captivating, as they were black. full of lust and desire. you saw the affect you had on him, and to be honest you have never felt so attractive or turned on.
you turned your head to look at him, lolling it to the side before contorting your body fulling to the side. your skirt flicked up and caught your hip as you did, revealing your panties and causing eddie to groan.
he clamped his eyes shut before walking over to you, gripping your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and forcing you to look up at him. “i can’t tell if you’re doing this on purpose, or you’re just dumb.” his words shocked you.
“m not doing anything, eds.” you tilt your head to the side slightly, smirking as you did so. you weren’t doing it on purpose yourself, but maybe your body was just reacting naturally to him and doing it to make him look.
“eds? we’re on nickname basis now sweets?” he leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your lips as you squirm under his gaze. you nod dumbly as his hand travels to grip your jaw and rub his thumb across your lips again. you were practically panting, desperately trying to relieve yourself without him realising.
“you gone all shy now? after that whole performance?” he presses his lips to the base of your throat, peppering slow kisses up it’s centre before meeting your lips. “maybe i’ll just let you sort yourself out. who knows who else you’ve been a little slut for.”
a whine escapes your lips as he pulls away from your lips, missing his warmth. the name going straight to your cunt and making you needier.
“jus’ you. i promise. couldn’t help myself.” you mumble, looking down at your hands in your lap.
“don’t act all innocent with me angel, i know what you want, and you know what you were doing. want you to tell me what you want from me.” he crouches down in front of you, hands on your thighs and inching up slowly.
“need you to touch me. want you so bad.” you squeak out, shuffling about on the bed.
“oh yeah? want me to make you cum, sweet girl?” he peels back your skirt, your panties on full display as you lean on your elbows to look at him curse under his breath. he grips your knees and spreads your legs further apart, eyeing the wet patch between your legs.
“god you’re so wet, i can see it from here. got you all worked up hm?” he presses kisses on your inner thighs, watching you squirm until he roughly grabs your hips. his stubble scratching your thigh slightly as he kisses higher.
you hum in agreement, focused on the growing tension about to snap. that was until you felt his fingers pull at the sides of your underwear, pulling them down to show off your glistening folds.
he growls slightly, groaning at the sight before pulling your panties off and basically diving into your pussy. licking strips from your hole to your clit, humming and rolling his eyes back at the taste.
he was eating you out like a starved man, sucking at your clit and poking his tongue into your hole while you were a moaning mess above him. writhing and wriggling your hips, grinding into his face while you were overcome with intense pleasure. he brought his hand up, inserting a finger inside of you before lifting his head up and smiling.
“tastes like heaven, sweetheart. so so sweet f’me fuck.” he reaches that spongey part inside of you, your moans growing whinier as you reach your climax. he roughly covers your mouth with his hand, muffling the sounds you’re making before watching his finger plunge in and out of you.
he starts sucking at your clit again, mewling at the taste of you before adding a second finger to thrust into you. your eyes were rolling back into your head as he coached you to your climax. you failed to notice the poor boy practically grinding the floor, trying to find any way to relieve himself while relishing in your pleasure.
“you gonna cum baby? yeah? go on, cum all over my tongue darlin’”. he poked his tongue back into your hole before making his way back to your clit. he was sloppy, the sounds of him and his tongue filling the room and probably the hall next to it. you didn’t have time to think about it though before white fuzzies took over your vision, and the coil inside you snapped.
eddie slowed his pace down, but lapped at the hot white liquid spurting from your hole. he was basically kitten licking it by the time you’d snapped out of your intense climax. you’d slept with guys before, with women before, but none had ever made you feel like this.
so you grabbed him by his hair into a kiss, teeth clashing and tongues dancing. you hum sweetly at the taste of yourself being transferred from him to you, trailing your hands down his chest and towards his bulge. he looked big, but nothing could’ve prepared you what he was actually hiding.
he sat down, spreading his legs as you knelt down in front of him, holding his cock in your hand and staring at it. he hissed as the cold air hit his sensitive tip, sticky with precum. he chuckled darkly at your expression, grabbing his dick and slapping it against your cheek lightly a few times.
“you okay there, doll? you can take me.” he smirks, smug from your expression. you lean in, licking a stripe from his base to the tip and taking extra time to lick the prominent vein pulsing on the side. he groaned in pleasure, jutting his hips up into the air before you grasp him with both hands and lick his tip a few times.
you watch his face the whole time, scrunched up in pleasure and making him look so much more attractive. swirling your tongue around his tip and licking the precum away, you start to take him down your throat until your nose hits the base.
“fuuu-uck. where’d you learn that you little slut? used to suckin’ big dick are ya?” his groans are sent straight to your core, making you wetter than before.
you pull away with a ‘pop’, and look into his eyes. “you’re so big, eds. biggest i’ve ever seen.” you’re about to go down again until he grabs your face harshly, puckering your lips while he stands and looks down at you.
“don’t believe that. you gonna let me fuck your face now, sweetheart. quit teasin’.” he holds his cock, guiding his tip to your parted lips and thrusting his hips in slowly until you’re gagging. strings of curses tumble out of his mouth at the sensation as he pulls out and fucks your face harshly. his balls slapping on your chin while you moan and clench your pussy as he uses you as a fucktoy.
“such a good girl, letting me ruin your pretty mouth like this. fuck- perfect angel.” he’s holding your chin as tears flood down your cheeks from gagging so much. he’s thrusting so intense that your jaw is starting to ache.
“shit shit shit - gonna cum sweet girl. swallow it all f’me, be a good girl.” and so you did. hot ropes of his salty release coat your tongue and the back of your throat. you stick your tongue out at him, so he can see the dollops of him cum he left there before you swallow it all happily and sit up to kiss him again. watching you, eddie could feel himself getting hard again.
his tongue swipes over yours, both of your recent releases mixing together in your mouths. salty residues left at the corners of your mouths before you pull apart.
“bed. now.” he pants at you, walking you towards it until your back reaches it and you fall back. you spread your legs again, giving him a look at your pussy dripping with arousal again. he watched as a bead of the liquid travels down your thighs, before he laps it up and rubs his tip through your folds.
the sensation of his tip hitting your clit almost had you screaming, but you bit down on his shoulder instead as he sharply sucked air through his teeth.
“eddie- please.” you pant, the words coming out strained from desperation. hearing you beg for it did something to him, blood pumping to his tip more than before.
he plunged into you slowly, the burn of the stretch adding to your pleasure as eddie groaned. he went all the way in and stopped, kissing your collarbone before looking at you.
“feels so fuckin’ good. so tight for me.”
“move. please move- fuck.” he pulls his hips sharply, before slamming them back into pace and setting a rough pace to fuck into you at. he was so big, it felt like he was ruining your pussy and your organs. his tip prodding against your cervix, creating a bulge in your stomach that he pressed on.
“look at that. too big for your pussy to fit. fuck” the rough pace he set had led your moans into an incoherent string of words. you couldn’t process what was happening, just the intense pressure building in your stomach causing you to clench around him.
“y’fucked all dumb up there, angel? fuck- clenchin’ around me like that m’ not gonna last.” his hips stutter before falling back into their pace.
“fuckfuckfuckfuck” high pitched screams sound out of you, not caring who can hear anymore because it feels so good.
“my dumb girl, pussy’s made f’me isn’t she. god you’re perfect.” you can’t help but drool at his words, being fucked so dumb that you can’t remember words.
you clench harder around him, indicating you’re close as your moans mush together. his hips falter again, becoming overwhelmed by the wetness squeezing his cock. he reaches his hand down to your clit, and spits on your pussy before he spreads it around and rubs it in circles around the nub.
the sensation is so overwhelming, your orgasm crashes over you with no warning. you hadn’t even got a chance to warn eddie about needing to pee - which didn’t matter anyway as you squirted all over his dick. the lewd sounds still filling up the room as eddie doesn’t slow down.
“squirting all over me, fuckin’ slut. you’re gonna stay here till i cum, use you as my own little toy.” you were falling into being overstimulated, the climax still having it’s effects on you. but you notice him slowing his pace down.
“shit- gonna cum. can i cum in you, doll? feels so good i don’t wanna pull out. please?” he flops his head to your shoulder.
“please cum in me, eds. want you to cum so deep in me.” before you knew it, his warmth was spitting out of his sensitive dick, painting your inner walls white and mixing with your own release as he pulls out of you slowly.
the white liquid of both of your releases drips out of your hole, before eddie quickly puts your panties back on you to prevent it from dripping out, giving the puffy mound a few playful taps and causing you to hiss from overstimulation.
“want you to keep it all in there for me, like the good girl you are.” he kisses you sweetly before flipping your skirt back down and making sure you’re okay.
———
“that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” the man says next to you, arm around your shoulder as you trace the tattoos on his chest.
“me too. felt so good eds.” you smirk at the new nickname. you sit up and grab a pen from the table next to you. finding a space between the collage covering his body, you write your number down.
“i wanna see you again. call me?” you rest your chin on his chest.
“course i will sweetness.” he kisses your head before standing up and sitting back down in his rolling chair.
“y’wanna finish that tattoo now?”
#♡ eddie !#eddie munson#older!eddiemunson#older!eddie#tattooist!eddie#tattooartist!eddie#tattooartist!eddiemunson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x you#eddie x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fic#stranger things#stranger things fluff#stranger things pov#stranger things one shot#stranger things 4#stranger things scenario#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson brainrot
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Negan x reader smut
♡Hey everyone! Here's a smut based on a request I got recently...I hope I did it justice!! If you have any more requests, please leave 'em with me <3
Warnings: vibrator play, Negan being Negan, dirty talk, afab reader, overstimulation, penetration mentioned, tears of pleasure referenced, dominant Negan, also his softer side comes out a little!
♡ You decide to tell Negan some valuable information you found out earlier in the day. He appreciates it and wants to reward you for telling him.
You felt nervous as you stand in the ominous looking meeting room. Negan sits confidently at the foot of the large table, his feet stretched out onto the glass as he crosses his legs. You can't help but eye up Lucille, leaning against the dreary grey walls, covered in splotches of dark blood. You shyly look down at your shaky hands, examining your fingers for the sake of keeping distacted from the long silence hanging between you both.
You don't know how the unpredictable man is going to respond to what you just told him. You witnessed Simon, his right hand man, going about the Sanctuary like he owned the place earlier today. He confidently strutted around, talking the big talk on how he wanted to kill Negan and take over as leader. Your heart dropped after hearing him discuss his plan with random Saviors.
You don't know why you felt the need to tell Negan this, but it must have been due to your feelings towards him. You always had an attraction to him... you liked how confident he was, how he presented himself... even his dirty sense of humour amused you. Not to mention how you swooned every time his dimples became promimant as he spoke.
Suddenly, he speaks up, snapping you away from your thoughts.
"So...you wanna know what I think?" *he sighs as his deep voice rumbles through you, making you shiver in your place. You look up to see him staring intensely at you, leaning back in his chair casually while you shyly play around with your fingers. You meet his gaze hopefully, eyes twinkling up at him.
Instead of directly telling you, he laughs to himself as he gets up from his chair. The sound runs through your body, making you shiver as he confidently walks towards you, invading your space. You can't help but look up at him as he smiles widely at you, those dimples showing like you always loved. A blush spreads across your face instantly, feeling shy under his strict gaze.
"I think..." He says slowly, letting his words draw out. "that you've been very good..coming to me and telling me all this"
As he speaks, he let's his rough hand come up to your face, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"Very, very good..." He continues, his voice somehow a lot deeper and sultry than it was before. You gulp softly as you continue to look up into his dark hazel eyes. There is a clear tension building up and you feel yourself becoming weaker as he towers over you dominantly.
"Are you a good girl? Is that why you came and told me all this?"
Your eyes flutter closed for a moment as his words send an ache straight down to your already needy core. His presence alone can have you dripping wet with need and you feel your underwear hugging tightly against your wet little pussy as he speaks to you, craving his large, rough hands all over your body. You can't fathom a response and he smirks knowing how he's making you feel.
"I reward good girls...do you know that?" He presses on, not breaking eye contact for a single second as he searches your eyes for a response. You hum out in response, a simple 'mmm' leaving your mouth as a little whine rather than a sound of acknowledgement. This makes him smirk again as he goes to whisper in your ear.
"How about you sit your pretty little ass on that table and give me a second" he utters confidently, his voice a little rough. You recognise that it is not a question, it is a demand. You blush wildly and nod in compliance, quickly making your way over to the table, your skirt riding up your legs slightly. You enjoy the sensation of the cold glass pressing against the heat of your soft thighs as you watch the man open up one of the large cabinets, pulling something out with a low laugh of amusement. Nervously, you look down into your lap as he walks back over to you, stopping right in front of where you're sitting.
He gazes at you with fervour, an inappropriate expression painted on his face as he observes you intensely. He suddenly shakes an object in front of your eyes, forcing you to look up at it with a shy look on your face. It's a pink, medium-sized object, a rod shape. It also has a few small buttons etched onto the side of it. Immediately, you know what it is. Despite your inexperience in the area, you know straight away that he's holding a vibrator right in front of your eyes. The sight makes you gulp as you connect your thoughts, realising what he meant by "reward"
"Hm? Would you like that..? Want me to press this between your legs..?"
His voice sends chills down your spine as you squeeze your thighs together needily, noticeably wanting to give into his offer. He was serious about this...
"M-mmm...Negan..." You say his name softly, your voice coming out a little more needy than you would have liked. That's the confirmation he needs from you as you whimper out your reply, seeing him smirk as he bites his lip a small bit at the sight of you sitting there so vulnerable on his table.
Suddenly, you feel his strong hands grazing along your thighs, making you shiver at the feeling. His thumb brushes against the soft skin as he pushes your legs apart, making room for him to step between them. You're in a very desperate state as he kneads your sensitive flesh, making your face heat up even more than before. Your mind starts racing as you feel him hiking your skirt up, revealing your soaked panties.
"Goddamn! Look at that...you're fucking soaked..."
His crude words make you whimper softly as he plays with the hem of your panties, your eyes fully taken over by the desire you feel for him.
N-Negan...I...
You try to speak as he languidly pulls your panties down, yet they protest a bit as they hug around your sweet little clit and soft, puffy lips. A string of slick connects your panties to your needy core as he slips them down your ankles.
Without saying anything, he looks down at you, meeting your gaze for a moment. His dark eyes are full of desire and so are yours. He shakes his head at you a little bit, showing his satisfaction with how needy you are, almost in disbelief regardless of how confident he is in his ability to woo women. This is another level.
He uncharacteristically stays quiet as he grabs the pink vibrator, examining it for a moment before turning it on. A loud buzz fills the room, and your eyes flutter closed as you anticipate what's about to happen. It makes you feel so weak and dizzy as the man looks down on you, sliding his hand up your stomach and pressing you down so you're flat on the table. He pushes your legs out some more, leaving your sensitive core fully displayed for him. You see his expression shift again as his eyes fill with even more desire.
"Mmm...you're not gonna know what's hit you in a second" he says smugly as he presses the object against your inner thigh, slowly letting it drift up towards where you need it most.
"N-Negan..please..I.." Your voice is weak and soft as he looks down, observing your reactions as the vibrator buzzes against you. He teases you for a little longer before pulling it away. You close your eyes for a moment, thinking he's stopping to tease you more. That was until you suddenly felt the object pressing snug against your clit. Your eyes widen immediately as it buzzes loudly against your bundle of nerves, causing you to moan needily.
O-oh God...
You whimper and whine as he presses it against you, holding you down with his hand as you start to squirm a little bit
"Look at you...I couldn't just let you leave here with nothing after telling me such important information, right?" His voice sends shivers down your spine, so deep and rough.
You whimper in response as he holds the vibrator flush against your clit, sometimes letting it drift away from that spot for a second just to tease you.
"God girl I want to bury my dick inside of you so bad...get you all messy"
As soon as the dirty words leave his mouth, your eyes widen a little bit. "P-please...please can you..?" You try your best not to sound shaky, but between every breath you whimper needily at the man.
"What? This isn't good enough for you?" He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling widely as he's clearly amused by his own comment. He wiggles the vibrator against your pussy teasingly.
Suddenly, he presses one of the buttons, and the vibrations get a lot stronger. You whimper out again, not able to stop yourself from reaching your arm out, gripping the end of the table with your shaky fingers. It hasn't taken long for you to get close to your climax as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You screw your eyes shut, and your breath becomes hot and heavy. He notices how you shake and whimper as you approach your orgasm.
"That's it, darlin'. Cum for me...that's it" his deep voice coaxes your orgasm as his words tip you over the edge. You moan his name desperately as you feel your legs shaking slightly from the strong vibrations to your core. As you relax through your high, enjoying the feeling running through your body, you start to feel another feeling taking you over. You notice that Negan still hasn't removed the vibrator, keeping it nestled onto your clit.
"N-Negan.." You say his name softly, a touch of curiosity in your tone as well as a little overwhelmed strain. He laughs a little to himself again, clearly amused as you squirm about. The feeling on your clit makes you wriggle in his grasp as he holds you there. Despite the overwhelming feeling, you enjoy the overstimulation to your sensitive core. You cry out desperately.
"Shhh...shh...I know doll, I know..." He reassures you a little as he continues, pressing the pink vibrator flush against you as your eyes water from the feeling.
"Hmm? That's good, isn't it..? You like that feeling?" His voice is rough as he speaks, so deep and sultry. It drives you wild as he doesn't give up with his attack on your sensitive little pussy. You can only nod your head messily as you feel a wave of pleasure shoot through you again, your second orgasm is already soon approaching. Your eyes continue to water as the overstimulation gets to you.
"I know...I know...it feels so good, hm? You like what I'm doing to you, darlin'?" You nod your head desperately again as he gazes down at you intensely. He seems to be a little softer now as he coaxes yet another orgasm from you.
"Such a good girl...cum for me again, let it all out..."
His words tip you over the edge for a second time as you screw your eyes closed, your orgasm hitting you even harder than the first. The tears prick in your eyes with pleasure as you shake again under his grasp, loving how good it feels. You moan his name over and over again, letting our desperate whimpers and whines as you let yourself go for him.
A few seconds pass as you lie there, shaking and messy as you coat part of the table in your slick.
"Mmmm, you took that so well.." Negan says roughly as he pushes the vibrator away from you, switching it off and placing it on the table. It was like he was experimenting a bit with you, seeing how much pleasure you could take.
You lie against the cold table, your breath hot and fast as your heart rate slowly starts to come down. You can't help but reach out to him, overstepping a bit of a boundary, but you want to feel him close especially after that. Your face is bright red and your painted with a satisfied and joyful expression, in disbelief of what just happened.
He doesn't give you any weird look as you reach out, sitting yourself upright. Instead, he reaches out to your waist, wrapping his strong arms around you as he lifts you up from the table, settling you down onto his lap as he sits down. You don't expect it at all, but you don't question him as you relax in his arms. You let out a soft sigh.
"T-thank you...that was..amazing" you utter gently, your voice barely above a whisper as exhaustion takes over.
"Well, I had to reward you, didn't I?" His voice is low and he seems uncharacteristically a little softer as he speaks to you. You enjoy it as you relax even more, closing your eyes.
Maybe this could be the start of something interesting...
#negan x reader#negan smith smut#negan smith#negan smut#negan twd smut#negan x reader smut#negan x you#twd smut#smut#fandomsmut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
to request • Eddie’s masterlist • main masterlist
Lingering Discomfort
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary; usually you and your boyfriend Eddie are all over eachother, but after an awful experience with a stranger, you can’t handle anyone’s hands on you
wordcount: 1.7k
Warnings: descriptions of sexual assault and lingering affects of it, light angst, Eddie’s so sweet and lovely
another request from the lovely @tracymbcm, thank you so much for requesting <3
It was yesterday, when you were at the bookstore, standing in between the fantasy and horror isles at the bookstore when someone tapped on your back, between your shoulder blades. It was a man, significantly older than you but not elderly by any means, he was incredibly average looking man, apart from the scary grin he wore on his face, and his beady eyes that stared at your chest rather than your face.
"Don't see many pretty young girls listening to Metallica." He smirked at the band tee you wore and your heart raced with anxiety. You wondered if he could tell the shirt was too big for you, if he could tell it was a man's shirt- Eddie's. "What's your favourite song by them honey?" He asked and the petname made you feel sick.
"Um-" "Um!" He cut you off mocking you and you pouted, backing up, wiping your sweaty palms on the sides of your skirt.
"I don't- I don't listen to them. My boyfriend, he loves 'em." You didn't talk more than that and you almost flinched at the very unsubtle way the corner of his lip rose in irritation.
"That right? How old is he?" He asked, a step closer to you as you took one back. Your eyes watered as you realized any further back and you'd just be trapped against the bookcase.
"He's twenty." You hoped he didn't see your lip tremble, you hoped he couldn't hear your heart beating so fast.
"Twenty? See young guys- little boys like that don't know how to treat their girls." That's all that was said before the situation escalated and ended with you running out of the store crying. He didn't do anything more than grab your ass, but it was revolting.
You took deep breaths before you pulled out of the parking lot. Your first instinct was to drive to Eddie's house, cry into his chest and complain about the creep in the bookstore. You could see him in your head, hugging you, rocking you as he kissed the crown of your head. You didn't understand why the thought of that made you uncomfortable, you just didn't want to be touched again. What you needed was a shower, and then bed.
✽-
The next morning, Eddie picked you up as usual, he did every morning. Usually you loved it, getting to spend time with him before you started your day, and it got him to school on time, not wanting to make you late. Today you'd rather walk, every car ride Eddie would stroke your thigh, kiss you at every stop sign, squeeze in a quick make out session before you left the car.
You avoided all that. Grabbing his freehand and holding it so it wouldn't venture to your legs, fake yawning and leaning your head against the window with your eyes closed, too tired to kiss. You left his van before he got the chance to try and make out with you.
He did call you pretty, and cute in the span of three minutes, which brought a smile to your face, especially since you didn't feel pretty or cute, wearing a loose fitting t-shirt and grey sweatpants instead of the skirt and tighter top you normally would've worn, too uncomfortable to wear anything very revealing.
He walked with you into the school, slightly behind you like he usually did and you distanced yourself just slightly, so his hand wouldn't find the small of your back.
You chewed your lip as you turned around to face him. "'M gonna go talk to Robin before class." You smile softly, albeit anxiously at him, but he didn't read into it too much thankfully.
"Alright baby, tell her I said hey." He grinned and you nodded, guilty you hadn't been giving him the same attention and intimacy you normally would. He leaned forward to kiss you and you turned your head, he was fine with just kissing your cheek. "You okay baby?" He asked, glassy brown eyes searching your own. You told him you were, and you both knew you were lying, but he didn't press it.
You swallowed thickly as you turned from him, wiping the invisible kiss off of your face when you knew he couldn't see you, walking on shaky legs until you found Robin.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked, and you sighed, shrugging even though you knew. Her eyes burned into yours until you leaned against the lockers with a pout. Finally you told her what happened.
She scoffed. "Men. So many of them are fucking creeps, I thank the gods every day for the fact that I swing the other way." She rolled her eyes with a grimace on her face that matched the one that was starting to grow on your own. "Was Eddie with you?" She asked and you shook your head. "That's- well maybe that's a good thing. He would've totally lost his shit." She laughed.
That last sentence stuck with you. Why would Eddie be mad? It wasn't your fault. But then maybe it was, you could've moved away sooner, told him to stop, you could have just not interacted with him in the first place and moved on. And now Eddie would be mad at you.
✽-
It stuck in your head until lunch. And when it was lunch, you felt anxious again. You felt so guilty, especially seeing Eddie smile so big the second he saw you. When you reached the hellfire table, you pulled your usual seat a few inches away from him, so you wouldn't be pressed flush against him like usual.
You sat and he wrapped his arm around you like usual, so you leaned forward letting his arm rest on the back of your chair, that was fine.
Things were okay for the next ten minutes. You got less anxious, joining in on the conversation, things seemed normal again, despite the lack of Eddie's tongue down your throat which was common for every other lunch period.
Suddenly that normalcy ended. "You're too far baby." Eddie tsked, easily picking you up and putting you in his lap, arm over your lap and gripping the underside of your thigh, the same place that old man's hand was less than a day ago.
You leaped up without thinking, heart racing, all the eyes of hellfire on you. "Stop! Stop- just don't- don't want you touching me." Your voice shook, and tears welled in your eyes when Eddie's smile fell completely. You mistook the concern on his face for anger and you bolted, you didn't go far, only to the library, you'd favourite place in Hawkin's High, save for Eddie's arms.
You sat in the back on a soft chair, you weren't there long before Eddie found you. He kneeled in front of you, making himself look small as he peered up at your teary eyes. He placed his hand on the arm of the chair, not on your skin.
"I talked to Robin baby, do y'wanna talk about what's bothering you?" His eyes didn't look angry like you thought they would, only sweet and inviting. His lips turned to match the pout on your face, he always did it and it made you giggle, you felt your lips twitch with the beginning of a smile. It was hard to stay upset around Eddie.
"Are you mad?" You asked and his eyes immediately widened, curls swaying with his head as he shook it.
"Of course not sweet girl, I could never be mad at you baby. Especially not for something that wasn't your fault." He assured you. Immediately the guilt in your chest floated away. "Do you wanna talk to me about it baby?" He tilted his head and you nodded.
"Yesterday, at the bookstore there was this older guy." Your lip trembled. "He was askin' about my shirt 'n he called me pretty. Then he started asking about you when I told him I have a boyfriend. He said twenty year olds dunno how to please girls, and he- and he touched me." You brought your knees to your chest as the tears on your waterline started to drip over your cheeks.
Eddie's jaw tensed. "Where did he touch you?" It was tearing him apart to not be able to hold you right now, wipe away your tears. But he understood there was a new boundary as a result of what happened, and he'd respect that, keep his hands to himself until he knew it was okay to touch you again.
"He rubbed my leg- 'n he grabbed my butt." You whispered, he didn't look angry, upset yes, worried, absolutely, but he wasn't mad. "I told Robin about it 'n she said if you were there you would've lost your shit." You kept your voice down and he shook his head quickly again.
"No- no baby, well, yes. But I wouldn't have been mad at you at all, just at that guy. It's not okay for him to go around touching girls, 'specially my girl. But that's not your fault baby, you didn't do anything wrong. I promise you did good, and I'm not mad at you at all." He promised and you sniffled.
There was a beat of silence before you threw yourself from the chair onto your knees, burying your face in his chest. His arms immediately squeezed you close to him, brushing your tears away gently.
"How about we skip the rest of our classes today, head to that bookstore, 'n I'll buy you whatever book you didn't get to buy yesterday. And if that guy's there, you point him out and he and I can have a little talk, I'll make sure he doesn't touch you, or anyone else like that again, hm?" His voice was soft, calm as he pet your hair and you nodded.
"I love you." "I love you"
You didn't see that guy again when you went to the bookstore later on, Eddie's arm protectively hooked around you through each isle. He got you your book, and you even got to read the first couple of chapters to him in his arms that night.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#petalwrites#slight angst#hurt/comfort#sa warning#fluff#eddie x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sharks
Meadema x Child!Reader
Summary: Viv comes to your house and you tell her about sharks
Viv's been at your house more often now.
It's a little strange.
Viv never used to come to the house by herself.
Always with your aunties and the other Arsenal girls.
Never alone.
But now, she's always at the house by herself. She comes home with Mummy from training and they sometimes have sleepovers in Mummy's Big Bed. Sometimes, she cooks you breakfast in the morning or helps pick you up from nursery.
It's weird.
The only person that's been around this much is Daan but she's gone now. It's not that Viv's taking her place but it's just a little weird to have someone around all the time again.
"Mummy!" You call," Need help, please!"
You're trying to get your favourite crayon set out but it's trapped by all the clutter in your toy box. You tug again but can't quite seem to get it.
"Mummy!"
"Hey, liefje." It's Viv instead of Mummy and you stop to look at her.
"Where's Mummy?"
"Beth's on a phone call. Can I help?"
You think for a moment before nodding. "My crayons," You say," Can't-Can't get them."
Viv peers into your toy box, seeing the way that your crayon pack is at the very bottom. Beth warned her about this, about the fact that you had a habit of drawing on everything you could (even the walls) so your crayons had been placed at the very bottom, buried under everything so you couldn't get at them as easily.
"Here, liefje," She says, pulling them out. She hands them to you.
"Thank you, Viv," You reply. You dump them onto the coffee table with your colouring books.
You've got more than one so you look back at Viv, who doesn't quite seem to know what to do with herself now that she's left completely alone with you with no Beth to act as a buffer.
You scamper back to her side, sliding your hand against hers. "Colour with me?" You don't wait for an answer, pulling her with you to sit cross-legged at the coffee table.
You shove a colouring book at her before flicking through your other one to decide which one you want to do. It takes a little while to choose, looking between the shark and the jellyfish.
You end up choosing the shark.
"D'you know that sharks have a lot of teeth?" You ask Viv as you colour," They lose 'em a lot so they need to have a lot more to make up for it."
"Wow," Viv says as she colours too, although she's mostly just watching you," You're very smart. Do you know any more shark facts?"
"Uh-huh. Baby sharks are born with all their teeth," You change your grey crayon to silver," Mummy says it's good I wasn't born with teeth because I used to try to bite things."
"Really?" Viv sounds amused.
"Yeah but I don't anymore."
You grab green to colour in some kelp. "Baby sharks are called pups," You continue," And baby sharks don't stay with their mothers. That's sad. I want to stay with Mummy forever."
"You're very smart," Viv says again.
"Sharks are my favourite animals!" You reply before shooting to your feet. You rummage through your toy chest before returning with arms full of stuffed sharks.
You lay them all out on the table, pushing off all your crayons. You sit extremely close to Viv, closer to her than ever before.
"This is a hammerhead," You say, holding one of your toys," 'Cause their head looks like a hammer. And this is tiger shark 'cause it's got tiger stripes. And this is a whale shark. It's like a whale but it's really a shark."
"Wow."
Viv's pretty happy to sit with you and listen to your explanation of sharks. In all honesty, it's pretty impressive how much you know and you're clearly so happy to tell her so she's content to just listen.
Which is how Beth finds you both later, when she's finished her phone call.
You're practically in Viv's lap, excitedly explaining the new shark added to your collection.
"Hey, y/n," Beth says and you immediately stop talking.
"Mummy!"
You hurry to her side and hug her tight.
"Hey," She says again, a hand running over your head," Did you tell Viv all about your toys?"
"My sharks!" You nod and let Mummy pick you up, balancing you on her hip.
"Your sharks," She laughs, bouncing you slightly," Come on, Viv. Didn't you say that you knew some nice restaurant near here? Let's order dinner."
●~●~●~●~
Slowly but surely, Viv's things begin to appear in the house.
It starts small, some of her clothes and a phone charger. Next it's some of her books and then her trophies and medals. It happens so gradually that you don't even realise it happens until suddenly Viv's taking care of you on her own and never going back to her own house.
"Mummy," You say one evening as you lay on Mummy's chest while Viv does the dishes," Does Viv have a house?"
You bounce a bit from the force of Mummy's laughs. "What kind of question is that?"
You look at her. "Viv's always at our house. Does that mean she's not got a house?"
"Where have you gotten that idea?"
"You said that Daan didn't have a house anymore when she came to live with us."
Mummy sits up and you know this is going to be one of her serious talks.
"Well...Do you remember when I told you about dating?"
"When two people want to be romantic so they hang out and do stuff together."
"Yeah, that's right. Well, after people date for a bit, they move in together."
You think about that for a moment, trying to translate that into something you understand. Sharks don't do that.
"Er...Why?"
"So they can spend more time together."
Sharks don't move in with each other. Sharks don't date. It must be a human thing.
Mummy takes your silence as an invitation to continue. "And Mummy and Viv are dating so she's moving in with us."
You think about that too, finally putting together that Mummy and Daan must have dated as well but don't anymore because Mummy and Viv date now.
"Viv...lives with us?"
"She does," Mummy says," Is that okay?"
"Viv gave me a new shark," You say to Mummy instead," It's a basking shark. It's cool. Viv's cool. She can stay."
Mummy releases a long breath and affectionately rubs your cheek. "I'm glad. I like Viv a lot."
"I'm glad too," Viv says as she approaches," Otherwise I'd have to give this to some other little girl."
You don't know where she's gotten this new shark but you're very happy.
Mummy shrieks though. "Viv! That's disgusting!"
"Goblin shark!" You look between Mummy and Viv. "They're my favourite!"
It's horrifically ugly and you love it so much.
"Thank you, Viv!" You say, giving her a hug as you take it, hurrying over to what Mummy calls your 'shark shrine' to introduce your new friend to all of your old ones.
"It's so ugly, Viv," Beth complains as they both watch you play," It's going to give me nightmares."
Viv chuckles. "Just wait until you google what the real thing looks like."
#woso x reader#meadema x reader#beth mead x reader#beth mead#vivianne miedema x reader#vivianne miedema#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
839 notes
·
View notes
Note
do you have a tut on how you make the shiny buttons 💔
Yup, but my way takes a LOT of time and patience
Pretty much i start with creating a canvas on ibispaint, the height is 18 pixels while lenght depends on the word. Wich is why often i have to start over to make the canvas shorter or longer.
First i add the base layer, wich i multiply and erase the edges to make 1 long button
Then i add the little star but you can add any favicon small enaugh
Then i write down the letters, it isnt a specific existing font, I simply redrew the letters of pre existing buttons, but you can find fonts on the pixel section of da.font, any work as long as they dont have thin lines.
After i use the gray filter in case smth isnt grey and i either use the filter to change color or add a new laser with the color and play around with laser effect until i get something i like. After i save the pic and add the shine effect, i put "add " in the filtres of layer and low opacity around 60, but its optional. After i make it move from left to right saving each frame and in the end i draw little + signs for the sparkles, i start w one pixels and so on. After i go on ezgifs and click gift, import the files and i set first everything to 6, the main frame without shiny effect i set it to 200 and i use the little effect "dont stack frames" after i dowload and that's it! Defenitevely is the ibispaint part the worst part of doing it since it requires patience, especially with long words, anyway, hope this helped!
Ps you can use any font as long its easly readible since the button is small + plus any you like, there isnt one mandatory font for them, have fun and goof around w em!!!
#💙mystuff#shiny buttons#rentry shiny buttons#imvu buttons#imvu badges#rentry#rentry stuff#rentry decor#rentry resources#imvu status#imvu shiny buttons#Shiny buttons tutorial
73 notes
·
View notes
Note
The entire bizzyboy team x godpoke
wait hold on had to make a whole graph for this
i present the bizzyteam panopticon of romance routes, Godpoke in da middle. biased to headcanons of course as godpoke is a player stand-in after all.
pink heart is for most potential mutual relationship/crush. red heart is infatuation, more of a heavy handed attraction than actual investment. light blue circle is friendly terms. grey zig-zaggy line is for complicated, unsure feelings.
pattypoke, obvious, i think they found eachother at the right point in time, godpoke traveled real far simply for the sake of meeting an idol and ended up becoming part of history, and patty did as well by standing up for herself and finding her voice and identity again, they are sweet like candy to eachother.
alexpoke, i honestly think godpoke tries to flirt with em but alexei is incredibly skittish or straight up doesnt get it, doesnt mean it CANT work, but al would need to come around n not get distracted so much.
vibipoke, ive seen cute stuff with em but i dont really ship em, in fact i think vibi simply cant really vibe romantically with a person of so few words of their own, vib wants megapon, or capo, whoever comes first.
banapoke, this is krerdly deltarune 2 if we believe in ourselves/lh, i honestly like it a lot, its cuteee.
grujapoke?, i think grujaja feels unsure about godpoke and really hasnt opened a lot to people in general to form a coherent relationship at this point in time, also sometimes megapon loud as fuck and he cant take it, godpoke wants to try to be more mindful of their wellbeing to hang out.
capopoke oooohh boy, capo definitely feels Things for godpoke, its mostly about the rivalry going on and being pitted against eachother, but its also the fact that Godpoke doesnt feel that strongly against Capo even after everything, in fact they seem to Actively care, which drives that weird attraction further, Capo is just that guy that loves provoking something just to get manhandled, probably.
Inspekpoke , HOOOH BOY how do i say this its pretty fucking obvious that Inspekta is crazey for the new deputy, immediately wants to pull them in, immediately wants to get weird about it, a lot of it comes from Spek projecting a buncha things at once at em, and thats a problem, i think he sees them as a strictly blank canvas that can be easily swayed by promises and sweet nothings, but to me Godpoke finds it probably a bit cute at the beginning and then it just turns, clingy and uncomfortable towards the end, especially with the passive aggressive behavior and mood swings coming in, too much too quickly. they got a lot to talk about post-canon, lotsa things to be apologizing for.
anyways thanks for coming to my bizzy presentation.
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
When Curly decided to bare his soul to his malewife he was not expecting this.
“What,” Ponyboy says, “the fuck. Is that?”
Curly was expecting delight, joy, at the very least some fawning. It’s what should have happened,
Instead Ponyboy is staring at Curly’s child with outright disgust. And look, Curly thinks Ponyboy is pretty tuff, that’s no secret, but Curly is a father now and he’s not gonna let his kid be slandered like this.
“This,” Curly glares, holding his beloved Princess Chunko closer, feeding her another McNugget because she will bite him if she doesn’t get at least two every time he springs for the evil arches, and she always knows when he’s holding out on her. “is your new stepdaughter, Ponybabe, so you could stand to be a little nicer.”
“That is the fattest raccoon I have ever seen.”
“It’s not her fault,” Curly defends, scratching Princess Chunko behind her velvety grey ears, “She’s got another litter comin’ soon.”
“She’s pregnant?”
“Yeah,” Curly grins proudly, “I think that fuckin’ mangy asshole under the Lewitt’s porch knocked her up, but I can’t even be mad about it ‘cause her last little ones stopped comin’ around a few months back an’ I miss ‘em.”
“You’re gonna get rabies.”
“Listen Pone,” he starts, as Princess Chunko finishes the nugget and attempts to munch on his fingers instead. He swats her gently on the nose, and then scratches the spot behind her front paw until she starts to purr, “if this is gonna work you’re gonna have to be ok with coparenting.”
“Y’know when you said you had somethin’ cool to show me I was expectin’ like, i dunno, maybe some sort of fuckin’ homemade bomb or somethin, not a monster of a raccoon.”
“Leave her be!” Princess Chunko is an adorable, cuddly, warm mass curled up in his lap, and yeah, sure, her tiny claws are absolutely digging into his thigh, but it’s not her fault. She doesn’t know her own strength. “I wouldna introduced you if I knew you was gonna be mean.”
“She’a a raccoon,” Pony repeats like he ain’t said it fourteen fucking time already, but his severe look finally cracks into a smile, “But I guess she is kind of cute.”
He offers his hand and Princess Chunko snaps.
Pony jumps back, swearing colourfully.
“I’m goin’ back inside away from that fuckin beast,” he storms back towards the house, still swearing intermittently, ”I bet you trained her to do that, didn’t you?”
Curly cackles. In truth, it was a lot harder trying to teach her not to bite, and she still bit him like 30% of the time.
“Y’know, Pone” he calls, still laughing as Pony gives him a final glare as he stomps away, “If you can’t accept her that might be a dealbraker for me.”
A two finger salute and the door slamming is the only response he gets.
“Don’t worry, princess” Curly coos, stroking Princess Chunko’s soft grey fur, “he’s gonna love you in no time.”
He feeds her the last of his fries and watches her scurry away and squeeze her incredibly bountiful rolls into her nest behind the woodpile.
Pony’ll come around eventually. Probably when the babies are born next month, all round and fun before Chunko teaches them how to be fierce.
For now though, Curly follows his disgruntled other half inside, ready to sing Princess Chunko’s praises until Pony starts getting proper riled and decides kissing him is the best way to get him to shut up.
84 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii!!! I’m so glad you and the boys are back!
Are you taking care of yourselves?
Four? Are you getting enough sleep? Are you eating well? How are the colors? Getting along? No fights? ^^
Wind? Are you behaving? Are you having a fun time with everyone? Stay young minded and keep that wild imagination going! You and four!
Wild? Are you making sure to stay out of trouble? No need to give Twi early grey hairs now ^^
Legend? Have you been taking care of yourself? I know what you went through in the past hurts and stings still so make sure to give yourself time to heal ^^
Sky..oh precious sweet baby sky..I hope you are doing well ^^ remember that have nothing to feel guilty for..and that you are loved and cherished. You may
Hyrule! ^^ like legend I hope you are also taking care of yourself, you and legend had it rough in your timeline, and I hope you two have been healing well
Warriors! I know your name says it all man, your a proud and humble warrior and you’ll be ok, but remember to give yourself time to take care of yourself ^^
Twi!!! How ya doing? :D petting a lot of fluffy animals? Having bonding moments with time? I hope you have been doing well ^^
Time..dude..I hope you are doing alright with 8 youngsters to look after while also being away from your wife for only goddesses knows how long…it’s commendable that you are able to keep everything together and yet also play dad for everyone…that deserves respect man and you earned it.
Also someone wants to say hello to you all! Say hi to Tsuki
Four: Abstaining from answering about my sleep schedule. Everything else is going well, everyone is doing okay.
Wind: Name one time I've ever behaved in my life.
Four: Your gran-
Wind: Never mind, shut the fuck up Smithy. I am having fun though when we aren't being attacked!
Wild: Exactly as Wind said, when have I ever behaved post-nap? Also I've only cause Twi to have a FEW grey hairs, the rest were all his own doing!
Legend: You don't tell me what to do or how to exist.
Sky: ...
Legend: ... But I've been doing as best I fucking can in both fronts.
Sky: There we go. I am doing quiet well, thank you for caring so much!
Hyrule: I've been doing pretty good so far! Doing better than Legend at least.
Legend: If you weren't you I'd punt you like a Chu into the fucking sun-
Warriors: Awww, you care about moi? Do not worry, I am making sure to take care of myself.
Twilight: That's my dog now. Don't worry, I'll take good care of 'em.
Time: Pup, we've talked about this. You cannot steal other's dogs.
Twilight: Watch me.
Time:
Time: Before I have to go redeliver a lecture, I want to thank you for your words. However, I don't need to be commended for wrangling them, despite what I say I wouldn't have it any other way.
#woooo long ass post#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu wild#lu legend#lu time#lu four#lu sky#lu warriors#lu wind#lu twilight#lu hyrule
55 notes
·
View notes
Note
okay I rewatched greys anatomy and had an idea for a cute little one shot maybe for different kinds of firsts? I think it would be set very early into their relationship, Ace still tries to settle in at the bau and it starts to snow. She gets all excited and maybe a little emotional about it, given that she was in war zones the last few years and missed the snow.
Inspired by Lexies scene in s5 e1: “the snow! It’s so pretty, it’s like a fairytale.”
I don’t see Ace getting that emotional or openly soft but maybe a little?
First Snow
It’s cliched to say you can smell it in the air, but it feels that way. You watch the weather app like a hawk, repeatedly refreshing it to make sure you’re getting the most up-to-date information. Emily brings you a fresh cup of coffee, complete with a smile. She sits on the edge of your desk, her black heeled boots knocking your filing cabinet slightly. “What are you looking at on your phone every ten minutes?”
“It’s supposed to snow,” you answer offhandedly, splitting your focus between the file and the weather app.
Emily nods, tracing the lip of her mug. She’s trying to figure you out, learn something new about you. It’s not a bad thing. You’re just not used to people being interested in getting to know you. History tells you to keep all personal information close to the chest. “You like snow?”
“Not really. Sort of.”
She tries again, twisting your chair with her foot. “You’re checking the weather with that kind of frequency because you don’t really like snow?” You frown at her, unsure of what to say. Her head tilts to the left, a curious and encouraging look on her face. “Is the bullpen not the place for this conversation?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just snow.”
“Do you want to go walk outside?”
“It’s the middle of the work day, Em.”
Her smile is so kind like she’s guiding you through something with the patience of a saint. “This isn’t a prison. You can take a break and go walk outside. C’mon. Get your coat.” You’re hesitant. It seems like a silly reason to leave your case files unattended. “It’s okay. C’mon. I’ll go with you.”
When you’re bundled up in your coat and gloves, you follow Emily through the elevator bank and out the lobby. Away from the bureau building even slightly, Emily slips her hand in yours. “So snow,” she prompts.
“I was deployed the last few winters. Not a lot of snow in the Middle East,” you explain quietly, your gaze stuck on the cracks in the sidewalk as you walk side by side with your girlfriend. That’s still a fairly new word. You’re not used to it yet. You feel like you’re constantly making stupid mistakes and needing to be taught the ropes of being a civilian, being in a relationship, having sex, all sorts of things. Snow seems like a very easy thing to share, and you fight your instinct to keep it closed away. “I don’t really like the cold or the snow. I can’t do the activities I like the way I like them when it snows, but I missed the snow the last few years I guess.”
Emily squeezes your hand in a wordless thank you for letting her in even a little bit. “I get it. The holidays we spent in Middle Eastern embassies always felt more sterile.” You pause, looking up at the sky. You can feel it. It’s in the air. “Tonight or tomorrow night, when it’s had time to accumulate, you and me, we’ll get some hot chocolate and go walk in the fresh snow.”
You can’t help the smile that splits across your face. Emily tugs you off the main sidewalk into a slight enclave. Her leather glove is worn and smooth against your cheek. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
“Maybe if I kiss you in the snow, I can change your opinion about it. It can be wonderful, beautiful. Just like you.” Your teeth pierce your bottom lip, as the embarrassment of the compliment drapes over you like a blanket. It warms your cheeks and the tips of your ears with a deep red. “What?” Emily nudges your nose with hers. “Blushing because your girlfriend thinks you’re pretty?”
“Em,” you exhale nervously. “We should… we should get back to work.”
“Okay, my love.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” You fidget with the buttons on your jacket instead of looking at her. You want to know why Emily calls you that. You found the nerve to ask JJ about the pet name she uses for you back when you were just sleeping with them. “It’s okay,” Emily encourages. “I’ll do my best to answer honestly. If not, I’ll tell you why I can’t.”
“Why do you call me that? Love? Or my love? JJ started calling me ‘baby’ the first time I slept with you. She said it just slipped out.”
“Two questions,” Emily starts. “Do you want me to stop? Do you remember the first time I called you love?”
“No and yes.”
“You do?” Emily is surprised by that. It was a kindness and a familiarity you didn’t expect. It took you by surprise then, but you were focused on more body related things. You wouldn’t have brought it up then either, too afraid to rock the boat. “When did I say it? I honestly don’t remember.”
“You invited me over after I pulled the muscle in my back. You told me to use my words and called me love.”
“Wow, so a really specific memory then.” You shrug lopsidedly. “Did it freak you out when I called you that?”
“I mean, no, I guess. I didn’t stop you from saying it, and we still… you know… slept together.”
“Did you want to stop me? Or stop us from having sex?”
“No. I know the difference between pushing slightly outside of my comfort zone in the name of growth and being wholly uncomfortable. I just… I don’t understand why you chose that one. It’s so… personal.”
“I’d say we’re pretty personal, love,” Emily says teasingly with a wink.
“Yeah. But not then.” Her tongue peeks out to lick her lips as she compiles the answer she wants to give. “You said you’d be honest. The real answer, Em. Not the politically correct one you’re working towards.”
One corner of her lip pulls into a surprised smile. “Honestly. Okay. Even then, I could see some of your history on your skin, and I could make my own deductions based on your time with the team. I wanted to give you every bit of love you didn’t have in whatever way you would let me - friendship, team, romance, whatever. It felt right and you didn’t seem to mind, so I let the pet name sink into my language. Do you like the pet name?”
You nod, letting her answer sift through your brain. It’s unusual. It’s not your experience, but you’re slowly recognizing that Emily and JJ aren’t like people in your past. And that’s a very good thing, even if you’re slow to let yourself warm up to it.
“Hey,” Emily murmurs, pulling you to a stop again on the sidewalk. “Look up.”
Your palms flat, you look at the tiny specks of snow landing on your gloves. They won’t stick yet, but they’re here. “It’s snowing,” you sigh contentedly.
“It is,” Emily beams. “You look happy.”
“I do?”
“You’re smiling, love. An honest-to-God smile.”
“I… umm… sorry, it’s probably silly. I guess I just missed the snow more than I thought,” you shrug self-consciously.
“Not silly at all. C’mon. We’ll enjoy it as we walk back to work, and tonight, we’ll go out with our hot chocolate. You can breathe in the fresh snow and the crisp air.”
“And you’ll kiss me in the snow?”
“My love, I’ll kiss you absolutely anywhere.”
As you stop at a traffic light, you watch the way the little snowflakes land in her dark hair. The snow with Emily… it feels kind of like a fairy tale.
#a03 writer#ace in the hole fic#jj x emily x ace#answered#jemily x reader#emily prentiss x reader#fic request
50 notes
·
View notes
Note
hiii pookie 🎀
can i request a lando fic where he's streaming and f!reader (who is chronically online) uses like tiktok references and talks to the chat while lando just sits there clueless?? and its like super funny and wholesome and the reader teases him abt it??
THANK YOU AND ITS TOTS FINE IF YOU DON'T‼️
have an amazing day!
chat, am I cooked?
PAIRING; Lando Norris x f!reader
SUMMARY; lando's chronically online girlfriend teases him on stream for not knowing any tiktok brain rot.
WARNINGS; none, just fluff
A/N; aaaa what I cute request!! I really hope I did your idea justice! pls pls pls let me know thoughts and feelings
1.1k words masterlist
.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.
.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.
You can’t help but grimace as Lando manages to somehow get killed. Again. For the 11th time. Not that you were counting, or anything like that.
You didn’t even know what game he was playing, or who he was playing with. All you really knew was that dying was bad. But that is kind of a universal thing so, really, you didn’t know much of what was going on.
His pretty face is contorted in an expression that you can tell is anger, but he is attempting to conceal it for yours and chat’s sake.
“Well,” you sigh, trying to lighten the mood, “that was not a sigma male moment.”
The slow turn of his head to your direction, slack jaw and wide eyes makes you quietly giggle to yourself. You try and stay stone faced, maintain the façade of being a loving girlfriend who takes her boyfriend’s games (and deaths) as serious as he does.
“…What did you just say?”
“Umm… I’m just saying you lost a few aura points for that one, Lan.”
He looked like a deer in headlights, and you love every moment of it.
“Chat, what the hell is she on about?” turning back to face his set up, he sees multiple comments of laughter, crying emojis and people trolling him, and yet none of them can offer him an explanation.
“Chat do not tell him what is up. That would not be very sigma of you,” you smile, struggling to contain your enjoyment of his befuddlement. “You are very cute when you don’t know what I’m saying.”
He pouts, pulling your chair closer to him in an act of defiance. You could tell he just wanted to know what you were saying, but you were keen on not giving in. “Sometimes it is as if you are speaking a different language,” he huffs, and you know he said it to get laughs out of his viewers, but the proximity of him whispering it into your ear sent chills down your spine.
The move had multiple viewers commenting things along the lines of:
“DAMNNNN LANDO GOT RIZZ”, “oh em gee he is the rizzler!!” and “rip carlos you would’ve loved to see Lando’s rizz.”
“Ha! I know that one! I’ve got lots of rizz, chat, how do you think I bagged this baddie?” he grins, slinging his arm around the back of your chair. It was comfortable, familiar for the two of you.
“He is lying chat he has no skibidi rizz don’t listen to his lies!!!”
He gasps, pretending to be offended by your insinuation. Lando breaks into laughter, and the melody was music to your ears. With how much fun the pair of you and the viewers were having, you both had forgotten that you had even ordered take-away for dinner. It was only until you heard numerous knocks on the front door of your shared apartment that you were broken out of your trance, lost in the comedy of the stream.
As you move to get up and answer the door, Lando stops you. His hand lands softly on your shoulder, gently pushing you back into your seat.
“You stay right there baby, I’ll get the food for us,” he smiles. The moment was sweet, endearing. If anything, it made you fall in love with him anymore. He places a soft kiss to the top of your head, warming your heart and your cheeks.
He hopped off his chair, and you saw he was wearing those grey trackies of his that made his butt look oh-so-good.
“Ooohhhh chaaat,” you started, making Lando turn around just as his made it to the bedroom door. “Chat I GYATT something in my eye!”
You double over in laughter as his sends you a puzzled look, muttering some nonsense under his breath as he leaves. You watch as the viewers spam their two cents, laughing alongside you at his innocence to internet brain rot.
He isn’t gone for long, and when he comes back, he has dinner from your favourite Italian place in hand. You gasp, ecstatic to devour the deliciousness of Papa John’s homemade pasta.
“Thank you, Italy, for inventing Papa John’s! if only Italy were real,” you fake frown, making sure Lando saw your sad expression.
“Italy?? Italy is real?? I don’t get it,” he huffs, placing the takeout bag on the desk.
You go to reach for your dinner, but your boyfriend is quick to whip it out of your reach.
“Explain what the hell you are saying to me and how Italy isn’t real, then you get dinner.”
You faux gasp, acting all shocked that he would have the audacity to withhold food from you.
“Well… i’m doing it, are you?”
“That doesn’t even make sense??”
“Chat am I cooked?” you giggle, no longer able to hide your amusement of his obliviousness.
“SHE IS CONSTANTLY SAYING THIS!! when it’s just her and I alone, she always asks chat if she is cooked,” Lando bursts, pleading and pleading with the viewers the help him understand the voodoo that you constantly say. His ignorance to your silly sayings always made your day, adding to the vibrance of your relationship as you would poke fun at him for not understanding you.
He finally gives in and hands you your dinner, unable to refuse your warm smile and glimmering eyes. God, the things he would do to make sure you would never lose your spark.
“Well, we are going to eat in peace now, so goodnight chat!” Lando announces, moving to shut off the stream. “Say goodbye for forever to my beautiful girlfriend chat, she is banned from here on out!”
“You know what that means chat, we are gonna go fu-”
“BYEEEE!” he yells over the top of you, ending the stream before you could finish your sentence. It closes, and he turns to you with a sly grin.
“You little muppet!” it only takes a second for you to recognise the mischievous look breaking out on his face; it was a look you knew all too well.
“Noooooo Lan no don’t do it!” you squeal, already sprinting out the door before he could catch you.
“Get back here you rascal!”
Two steps out the door, and he had already caught you. He lifts you off the ground and spins you around, all while you are squirming in his grasp. You are both laughing your heads off, and he finally puts you back on your feet.
You look up at him, but you can’t get any words in before he presses a chaste kiss on your lips. You melt into him, unable to resist his temptations. The warmth of his body radiates onto you, pulling him closer.
“I love you,” he mumbles between quick pecks.
You had never felt more complete within your life than you did in that moment.
.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.
as always, feedback is appreciated!
#x reader#reader insert#formula 1#formula one#fluff#lando x reader#lando norris#ln4#ln4 fluff#ln4 x reader#ames writes ! ☽
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
[FIC] Chaos and Calm
Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 1551 Tags: fluff, domesticity, single dads, pre-relationship, outings in the park, feeding the ducks, rain
Notes: For Day 1 of Dreamling Week 2024 as organized by @mr-sadman, for the prompt 'hunt'. Also dedicated to the wonderful @chaosheadspace, whose single-dads AU Castle in the Sand rotates in the back of my head quite often - I meant to have this coincide with your birthday but didn't quite make it, alas.
Summary: Searching for rain boots and meeting friends in the park. No real plot, just meandering domestic parenting vibes.
On AO3
"Robyn! You 'bout ready, kiddo?"
Hob winces at the sound of something heavy thudding on the floor above, and then his son appears at the top of the stairs. "I can't find my boots!"
Hob suppresses the urge to sigh. "Do you remember where you had them last?"
Robyn's brow furrows. "Maybe? They might be in the cupboard? But I think I might have used 'em as astronaut boots and forgot to put 'em back."
"Did you check by the washing machine?"
"Not yet."
"Okay. You keep looking in your room; I'll check down here and then come help you look if I don't find them."
"'Kay." Robyn scrambles back up from where he'd started down the stairs and dashes back to his room, and Hob heads to check the coat cupboard in the front hallway.
They're meant to be meeting Dream and Orpheus at the park in fifteen minutes. The day has turned out to be dreary and grey, light rain off and on keeping it misty and damp and a raincoat plus wellies are definitely called for.
If only he or his son could be relied upon to consistently put things back in their expected places. Ellie had always scolded them about it, gently, and for all the years since she's been gone Hob has kept trying to do better, but it's not always top of his mind and they're both surviving okay, despite the current inconvenience.
He checks the bottom of the coat cupboard; no boots.
He lets the sigh out this time, since Robyn's not there to see the frustration. He checks the utility room next, where last year's too-small snow boots are still sitting next to this year's because Hob hasn't gotten round to dropping them off at the charity shop yet. This year's snow boots will have to do if they can't find the wellies, but he's not giving up yet.
He's not going to tear the house apart looking, either, though; he's eager to get going. Letting Robyn spend time with his best friend is important, but also. Hob really looks forward to seeing Dream, for—well. For lots of reasons, that he's comfortably aware of but cautious about acting on because the kids would be caught in the middle if it didn't work out and that's the last thing he wants. Right now he just wants to let himself enjoy the possibilities. Hanging out, conversations while the kids play, watching Dream's pretty face go soft and expressive as they talk.
So. Best check all the likely spots in this comfortably-cluttered chaos he lives in, then, so they can find the boots and get going. It would certainly be easier if his home was less messy, but he's a single dad with a very active kid, he teaches secondary school, and taking the time to make his home look like a magazine spread is just not on his agenda. And sure sometimes it bites him in the arse, like now, but most times the chaos is of a manageable level and more importantly, it works for them.
Just. Not today, apparently.
He pulls his phone from his pocket, fires off a quick text to Dream.
May be a few minutes late We've a crisis of missing wellies over here Keep you posted
Dream's response comes through almost instantly.
I wish you luck in your hunt, then. We will wait.
Hob smiles, tucks the phone back in his pocket and heads up the stairs to join the search.
Robyn's room is a little bit of a disaster zone, as he's been throwing things around in his haste, and Hob kneels to crawl around the floor and help him look. He'll help him straighten up later, too, but for now they're boot-hunting.
Robyn is a little worried, as it turns out. "What if Orpheus and his dad leave before we get there? What if they think we're not coming because I can't find my stupid boots?"
Hob laughs, a small laugh full of kindness. "They wouldn't," he assures, pulling his kid into a one-armed hug as they sit on the floor. "And besides—I texted Orpheus's dad so they know we're running late." He drops a kiss in Robyn's hair. "Now let's find those blasted wellies so we can get going, yeah?"
The boots are not under the bed, or the desk in the corner; they're not in the toy chest, nor the basket for Robyn's dirty laundry, nor under the laundry that hasn't quite made it into the basket. Hob helps that last category get to where it was meant to be and sits back with a sigh, making a mental note—and hopefully he'll remember later—to be sure to run a load of Robyn's clothes.
"Alright, kiddo, is there anywhere you haven't looked yet?"
Robyn ponders for a moment, face scrunched in thought, and then lights up. "Oh!" He scrambles off the floor and over to the wardrobe, yanks it open. Hob would have thought that would be the first place to check, so he hadn't looked himself but obviously he should have, because Robyn dives into it with a little yell of victory and emerges with a boot held high in either hand and triumph radiating from his grin.
~ They're only a little bit late to the park; Robyn and Orpheus spot each other at the same instant and yell in excited unison, charging across the wet grass and crashing into a hug that also involves a lot of jumping up and down. Hob grins at their enthusiasm, eyes searching beyond them to find Dream looking for him as well; the smile that blooms on Dream's face, visible even at this distance, makes Hob's heart do a pleasant little flop in his chest.
"Your hunt was successful, I see," Dream says, when they are close enough for speaking; they are trailing after the boys, who are cavorting in the general direction of the duck pond, splashing in collected puddles on the path. Dream's got his umbrella up, even though it's not raining right this moment, which somehow just enhances his general goth vibe.
Hob stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, time to do a major cleaning. His room's a bit of a mess but we finally found his wellies in the wardrobe. Which honestly would have been the first place I checked if I'd realized he hadn't. Kid brains work on different logic, I suppose."
"True." Dream shifts a little, casts a glance sideways at Hob. "Robyn is fortunate to have a father so skilled at finding lost items."
"Got a lot of experience misplacing my own crap," Hob offers, laughing to cover the flustery warmth seeping into his chest at Dream's simple compliment. "And he found the boots himself, just needed some help thinking it through."
"As I said. He is fortunate to have your guidance," Dream reiterates, and Hob is saved from having to respond when Robyn comes running back to where the two of them have stopped at the path's edge. Orpheus is over by the pond, bending down to peer between the rails of the short wooden fence that surrounds it as several ducks swim toward him.
"Dad! Did you bring the peas? The ducks're hungry!" There's eager excitement in Robyn's voice and Hob smiles.
"'Course I did, kiddo, here." He rummages in the bag at his hip, slung comfortably across his chest, and hands over the snack-size freezer bag of peas; Robyn thanks him and dashes back over to Orpheus. Whether or not the ducks are 'hungry' is arguable, but Hob won't deny his kid the human joy of personifying the world around him nor of feeding the ducks, which is generally their purpose in coming to this park. He glances sideways at Dream—who is Hob's own private secondary reason for any of the activities they do together with their kids—and finds him watching the boys with the softest little smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.
He's so beautiful.
It starts raining, then, just a light misty sprinkle. The boys put up the hoods on their raincoats and carry on tossing peas to the eager birds who've gathered for the feast; Hob is about to dig his own umbrella out of his bag but Dream steps closer and shifts his own broad umbrella over Hob as well. His arm presses up against Hob's, from shoulder to elbow, and Hob swallows the urge to lift his arm and put it around Dream's shoulders, leans solidly into the touch instead. It's nice.
It's so, so nice, and Hob revels in the imagined warmth he can feel seeping into the contact despite the layers between them, the way that seconds turn to minutes and neither of them moves away, how they both watch their boys in comfortable silence. Hob's thoughts and emotions often feel chaotic and jumbled up in the same way his house manages to be a mild-but-functional disaster zone but this—sharing an everyday domestic moment with Dream, the casual unremarked closeness between them—it quiets something in his head, makes anything and everything seem gloriously possible.
This, this is a feeling worth finding, a feeling he did not even realize he was searching for.
He is still entirely grateful to have found it.
= Started: 6/2/24 Drafted: 6/3/24 Posted: 6/3/24
99 notes
·
View notes