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#and the service desk can't fucking help me
appelscruff · 1 year
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I hate it here
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hairmetal666 · 3 months
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No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.
Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.
Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.
It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.
The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).
That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.
He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.
Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.
Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.
---
He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.
"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."
Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."
"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."
"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"
"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."
"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.
"How long you in detention for?"
"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "
"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"
"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"
They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.
The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.
---
He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.
It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.
He wishes he could tell Eddie.
Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.
They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.
Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.
He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--
He wants
---
Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.
He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.
Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.
It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.
Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.
He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"
"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."
Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"
In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.
"You should be safe here," Eddie says.
Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"
"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."
Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"
"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."
"You can't tell anyone."
"I'm not going to."
"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"
"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."
"You're giving me too much credit, man."
"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."
His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."
Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"
Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"
"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."
He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"
Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.
"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.
Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."
"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.
He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.
"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.
Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."
"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."
"I have a character."
"What???"
"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"
"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"
Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."
Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"
He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."
"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.
"If you're lucky." Steve beams.
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eddiesxangel · 10 months
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Redemption| Eddie Munson x Reader
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Summary: after committing a petty crime, Eddie is forced to work community at a retirement home; what he didn’t expect was the pretty girl at the front desk, you. This is so self-indulgent don't come for me
Word count: 3.8k
Cw: mutual pining, male masturbation, Perv!Eddie, Dom!Eddie/ Sub!reader, unprotected sex, corruption kink? breeding kink, sex at work. (Briefly proofread)
An: after 85 years I finally got around to finishing this! It’s not where I thought it would go originally bc it was just suppose to be a fluff piece but the horny gremlin took over
Boredom wasn't even a way to describe how you were feeling. The phones were dead, the day had been dragging on, and it was not even 12:00pm. The residents of the home were also not doing you any favours. Having to repeat yourself about six times in a row at the top of your lungs was starting to get old; your day had just not been going the way you wanted. Any other day, you'd be happy to help, happy to repeat yourself, but today was not one of those days. You were irritated and annoyed; your work bestie was off today, so you couldn't even complain to her about your shit day.
 A sigh of relief fills you when the phone rings, a rare occasion, but today has been so slow you were begging for something to do.
 "Sunny Acres Retirement Home! How may I help you?"  your customer service voice was overly sweet, too sweet. However you can't seem to turn it off, being the people pleaser that you are. 
"Jesus Christ'' You hear mumbled from the other end of the line. 
"Hello? How can I help you?" you roll your eyes, having to repeat yourself, but keep up the chipper act.
 "Yeah, listen, I was assigned to do community hours at this place, and I need to talk to a manager." Damn, this guy had an attitude. 
"Yeah! Sure thing. Can I get your name, please?"
 "Seriously?" 
What the fuck crawled up this guy's ass?
"It's company policy, Sir." You rolled your eyes again, not wanting to deal with more bullshit.
"Eddie"  
"One moment, Eddie, I'll transfer your call." You put him on hold and transferred him to the manager with a good luck warning. 
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The next day, you were in much better spirits; your work bestie was with you, it was casual Friday, and you were allowed to wear jeans instead of business casual attire.
It was around 1:00pm when you saw Chief Hopper walk in accompanied by someone you had not recognized. 
"Hey Hopps," you greet him with a smile.
"Hey, you." He said with a smile.
You and Chief Hopper had a friendly relationship because you're close friends with his girlfriend's oldest, Jonathan.  
"To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Brought in another delinquent for you to roughhouse into shape" he steps out of the way.
Your giggle dies as you lock eyes with the prettiest boy you've ever seen. 
"This is Edward; he is here to complete two hundred hours of community service, and he will be starting today."
"It's Eddie," you hear him mumble under his breath. 
Oh so this is the jackass you spoke to on the phone yesterday... a really cute jackass.
He looked to be around your age, but you didn't recognize him. You'd only been in town since the second half of senior year, hating your parents for making your move to a new school so close to graduating. You have been in Hawkins  six years now you're here working 9-5 as a receptionist at Sunny Acres Retirement Home.
"Nice to meet you, Eddie." You introduce yourself and proceed to call the manager to let her know he is here. Once Hopper leaves and your manager shows him around, you immediately call your best friend, Robin's, extension.
"Get over here now! We have a code, hottie," you whisper into the phone. Whenever you see a cute person enter the building, whether it be adult grandchildren, paramedics, or firefighters, you always let one another know when there is one on the premises. No less than two minutes later, she approaches your desk.
"Where are they?"
" There," you point to the dining room directly across from your desk as he is being given a tour of the building.
"Eddie Munson?!" she half yells before covering her mouth. 
"You know him?" you ask excitedly.
"Know him? He's the town freak," she scoffs.
"I'm sure he is a freak, alright?" You wiggle your brows at her." 
"I'm serious! He's bad news." 
"Clearly, he is doing community service hours." 
"Seriously? That is what you're into?" she giggles.
"I don't know? There is something about him?" You bite your lip as you check him out from afar. He turns back to walk towards you, and you quickly look away, not wanting to be caught.
You've always been into bad boys, but your golden retriever, good girl image, always scared them away.
Eddie notices you staring at him because you're not very subtle.  He isn't mad that he caught you staring because he felt that you were checking him out rather than judging him. Unlike your co-worker standing beside you...
Just his luck, he recognized Robin from high school. She was always neutral towards him and didn't say much, but he knew how the people in this town operated. She would turn you against him in no time.
"Buckley." He nodded.
"Munson," she mimicked back.
You watched the scene play out, hoping she would introduce you. Wrong. She goes straight in for the kill.
"My friend thinks you're cute." She points her thumb at you, and you immediately slap her shoulder as a gut reaction.
"Robin?!" you scold her. Mortified about what she admitted to him just to break an awkward silence, you feel like you want the ground to swallow you whole. 
Eddie gives you a cocky smirk before the manager comes back to continue with the tour. 
"Why do you hate me? Did I do something?  Are you punishing me?" you whine. 
"You know I just blurt out things when I get uncomfortable!" 
All you can do is roll your eyes, you loved the girl, but she could be really dense. 
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Eddie couldn't stop thinking about your brief interaction all night. Was Robin telling the truth? Did you really think he was cute? Or was she teasing? He hoped that she had grown up since high school and was telling the truth because he also thought you were cute, like really, really cute. He hadn't seen you before, and Hawkins was a small town; he must have known you from somewhere? He wraps his brain around any memories of your face, but he comes up empty. He had to find out more about you. He needed to know you. Something about you infatuated him so much. He thought about how your body looked in the adorable outfit you had on. He thought about what was under the outfit to... Maybe being forced to volunteer his time at Sunny Acres wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to him after all...
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The next day, you were assigned to show Eddie some of the duties he was to do for the residents. Talk to them, run bingo, help them with their phone if the line was giving them any trouble, or their TV if they put in the wrong input, serve them beverages, and get to know them and keep them company. A lot of them don't have families or anyone to come visit them. The staff are their family. That was the main reason you stayed at this job for so long. 
Eddie was quiet the whole orientation. The tension from yesterday was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Small talk was not your strong suit; you dreaded it, but you also really wanted to talk with Eddie, so you went for it.
"So what did they book you for? Steal candy from a kid on the playground?" trying to make light of the situation. 
"Murder," he deadpans to you.
"Ha ha. Nice try. They don't give community hours to murderers." you couldn't keep your eyes on the task in front of you.
He was dead silent, but you could feel his eyes burning into you.
"Okay, don't tell me; I'll just keep guessing until you do." you gave a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood. 
Another eye roll was shot your way, but you swore you saw a glint of something behind those eyes. 
"So what was it? Trespassing? Vandalism? shoplifting? Public intoxication? Speeding?" you raise a brow at him.
 Eddie just smirked and shook his head as you interrogated him. Your bubbly personality was nothing compared to his. He noticed how you would light up the room when you walked in. The residents of the home adored you, and he could see why. You were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen; your eyes sparkled, and he loved how you styled yourself. He wasn't used to being so infatuated by someone so cutesy. He noticed you wore a lot of pink and has yet to see you in anything black. He thought of what you would look like with black underwear... then he snapped back out of his thoughts. He tried to think of something less sexy, but as he was trying to do so, your top slipped down when you went to reach for the deck of cards across from you. He caught a glimpse of the frilly light yellow bra you had on under your top.
Eddie noticed the room was getting hotter, or was that just him? You made him nervous; he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you more than he already has. He felt shame that we had to be waltzed in here by the chief of police, never mind what offence he committed. So he stayed quiet, not wanting the next thing to come out of his mouth to be offensive or crass. So he kept quiet, not saying anything or indulging in the conversation more than he had to.
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Another week went by, and you still hardly spoke to Eddie. Work was unbelievably slow yet again. you thought that would give you a chance to speak with Eddie, but you hardly had time to see him because the residents kept hogging him. That was until your manager asked for you to help with the Bingo because everyone decided to show up today. Eddie was in charge of rolling and placing, and you were in charge of announcing and checking.
This was it, this was your chance to speak to him...
"How do you like it here so far?"
"It's fine I guess." He mumbled. 
"Everyone really loves you." You smiled.  
Eddie gave you a look that said what the fuck?
“No really! … Do you not like it here?” What you were really asking was do you not like being around me?
"Don't you get it? How can I serve these snotty rich people when all they do is look down on someone like me?"
"Eddie, are you blind? The residents love you." 
Eddie scoffs at your confession. "I'm serious! When you are gone, Pat always asks where you are! And Linda always refers to you as her boyfriend, and I overheard Martha and June arguing over who got to braid your hair next. You're a real ladies' man around here," You giggle. 
"A ladies man you say?" his mood slowly changes as he smirks at you. That made you blush, the heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away bashfully. He was just so pretty… and the way he looked at you like how he is now is making you so shy.
"Yeah, I'm kinda jealous of Linda, if I'm honest." You flirt. You feel like your stomach was in your ass by the time you finished the sentence.
-
"What's the next number! come on!" Bob yelled from the table. You had completely forgotten about the game.
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Small glances were stolen throughout the following weeks.  You would feel the heat rise to your cheeks every time he caught you, and you couldn't tell if he found it endearing or annoying. You never got a response out of Eddie after your admission to being jealous over an eighty-three-year-old.
Eddie definitely thought it was endearing and he can't seem to get you out of his head. He would think about you when he was alone in his room at night. He would think about how you always smelled like marshmallows, how your hair looked so cute with the little bow you put in it occasionally, or how you tease him by wearing those short skirts with stockings underneath. He knew you were teasing him. Everyone else bought the Goodie Two Shoes act, but not Eddie. He saw right through it, and he was fed up. He felt like if he didn't have you, he would actually explode.
Eddie had been watching you from afar this whole time. He would sneak around your desk, finding things he could take home with him as a keepsake. Like little doodles you would leave out, or the pen you were using, or your lip balm. The best was when you left your purse out, and he got a chance to take the travel-size perfume that was lying there on top of everything. There was a reason he got booked for defacing public property and not theft. Theft he was good at.
Eddie sprayed his pillow with your perfume and then used your lip balm that smelled and tasted like strawberries, fuck, everything about you was so sweet: your personality, looks and smell, even your fucking lip balm. He thought about how his lips were touching the thing that touched yours as he applied it to his own, and his dick got hard. Then he thought about how your strawberry lips would look around his hard cock.
You were taking over Eddie's senses as he began to tug at his cock. He thought about how he would love to flip up your skirt and fucking you in one of the empty rooms. His imagination ran wild. He thought about your voice, how your tits would look bouncing in that frilly yellow bra he got a peek at. He wanted you in every position, especially under him. He knew you would be the perfect little sub for him. He needed you to be; he was so close to cumming. He thought about you crying from how much you needed his cock to fill you. He thought about how good you would look and feel swallowing his cock. He needed to take what he thought, no needed to believe, was your virgin pussy.
Eddie came so hard that night, the first night he indulged in his fantasies of you with your smell lingering in the air of his room. The mix of your sent with his was too much. He needed you, and he would do anything to try and get you.
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"Ok, I can't take this anymore, you need to talk to him." Robin shook her head. 
"And say what?" 
"Yo Munson, come here!" 
"Robin!" You scolded.  
As Eddie approached, you felt your heart rate go up; you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What on earth was she going to say now? 
"Okay, I can't take watching you two dance around one another any longer." "She thinks you're cute. Okay..." Robin gestured to you. "Do you think she is cute?"
Eddie didn’t say anything, he just slowly nodded his head.
The tension broke when the shrill of phone ring broke you out of your trance and shook you a little. You just stared at the phone and Robin butted in.
“I’ll take it, you take your lunch” she gave you a wink and you looked to Eddie.
“I could eat.” and he wasn't talking about the chicken they were serving for lunch.
You felt your stomach do a flip-flip; you heard the insinuation in his tone.
"Um, uh- yeah. Okay." You cleared your throat and went to find an empty room for some privacy.
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You guided Eddie up to the eighth floor. There were a lot of vacant rooms up there, and hardly anyone went in the west wing since no one was living there yet. The elevator ride up was silent; you felt an awkwardness, like Eddie was looking into your soul even though he wasn't even looking at you... The elevator dinged, and Eddie let you step out first, guiding him to the privacy he yearned for.
809 Eddie read on the door as you fumbled with the lock and key. Finally, you opened the lock and guided him inside. The room was completely empty; it echoed a little as your footsteps filled it.
"So..." You started but Eddie had no time for talking. He wanted you and he wanted you now.
Eddie surprised you by cupping your face and kissing you passionately. No one had ever kissed you like this before; it was strong and hard but also careful.
"You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart." He spoke into your mouth. The kissing got more and more sensual. You ran your hands up his middle before you knew what was happening he quickly turned you around and pressed you up against the wall.
"You think it's cute? Teasing me for weeks with your sweet little outfits?" Eddie's hand was wrapped around your mouth to keep you quiet as his fingers explored you meat of your ass.
"Mmmmmph" You were so scared someone would find you in the empty suite, but it also turned you on more than expected.
"What was that sweetheart? I didn't quite catch that?" His fingers found the waistband of your stockings and pulled them and your panties down with one swift motion. His hand loosened its grip on your jaw so you could speak.
"N-no," You whimpered. This was turning you on way more than it should. You thought you would come up here to talk; maybe he would ask you out on a date. You never thought you would be fucking!
"I don't believe you."
You felt your skirt flipped up and a cool breeze on your wet pussy.
"Tell me, sweetheart, has anyone ever filled this pussy?" Eddie asked as he ran a single finger through your wet folds.
"Yes," You admit shakily. You gripped Eddie's wrist of the hand that was clamped around your throat.
Eddie can't say he was surprised that you’ve had men before him. You were beautiful, smart, funny, adorable. It's too bad you had to be with them before he got a taste.
"What a shame you've had to suffer through that before meeting me, babydoll."
"Why is that?" you ask bravely.
Eddie chuckled darkly... "Because baby, I'm about to ruin you for all men."
That made you gulp. You can't believe you were about to fuck your crush in the middle of the work day. You didn't do stuff like this! you were a good girl, a rule follower.
Before you could think anymore about the consequences, Eddie, he slipped his throbbing cock into your needy pussy.
"Holy fuck!" You screamed, and Eddie's hand clamped back down over your mouth to keep you quiet.
Just when Eddie didn't think you could get any hotter, the curse word you let slip from your mouth made his cock twitch inside of you.
"Fuck me, you stretch me out so good," You whine, and Eddie thinks he will bust a nut right then and there. His perfect little angel had the mouth of a whore.
"Yes, you like that, don't you, you dirty little slut." Eddie jerked his hips up into you. It was sharp and hard and hit that delicious spot inside you each time. “You wanna be my good girl? Or my bad girl?”
“Good- oh fuck- good girl. I want to be your good girl!”
“That shut the fuck up and take it like I know you can��
"oh my god, you're so big." Your eyes rolled back into your head as he became more controlled with his rhythm. His hands gripped your hip, and he wrapped his hand in your hair, yanking your head back like he was riding you.
The view Eddie had was your ass bounced off his cock was making his head spin. He knew you would hand a perfect pussy. It was his now and only his.
"This pussy is mine now, understand? Im going to fill this pussy so good you won't know what to do for days. The only thing you're going to be thinking of is me and my fat cock."
All you could do was moan in response. "Yea you like that you dirty little whore. You like that I own this pussy now…” Eddie slowed down, he rolled his hips slowly into your pussy and he swore he saw the light “You have everyone convinced you're a goodgirl but all you are is a cumslut. Tell me how much you want my cum coating your walls"
"I want it so bad!" you cried.
You've never had a dick like this before. Eddie was right, he's ruined you for all men and he hadn't even made you cum... yet. You had full faith that he was able to do so because you could feel it. The warm fuzzy feeling was bubbling up in your core. Eddie had picked up the pace at your omission, and fuck if he wasn’t hitting your g spot with each delicious stroke of his cock hitting your walls.
"Fuck I'm going to cum!" You scream, all caution thrown to the wind, you'd forgotten where you were. The only thing you could think of was Eddie and his delicious cock.
"Fuck yes, babydoll. Come on this cock." Eddie's hand let go of your hair and wrapped it around your throat, pulling you flush to his body.
"More" You whisper.
"Greedy greedy girl."
"Please" You begged. You needed him to touch you.
"There is my good girl." His hand that had gripped your hip slid down and started playing with your swollen clit and your legs almost gave out.
"Next time, I'm keeping my word, and I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy." Eddie growled.
That did it for you; your inner walls squeezed, and you felt your orgasm rush through you. Eddie trusted in you as your body convulsed around him.
"Fuck you're so fucking tight," Eddie grits through his teeth, and he fights off his impending orgasm. He doesn't want this moment to end, he wants it to last forever. What if this is the last chance he has to feel your pussy wrapped around him?
"Please, Eddie, I want your cum! I want your cum so fucking bad, my pussy needs it."
That did it for Eddie, he let go and his hot seed was being shot into you with a roar.
After minutes of silence and heavy breathing, Eddie bent down and pulled up your panties and stockings for you, trapping his cum with it. You turn slowly, afraid to look him in the eyes, but Eddie doesn't allow it. He brings your cin up, guiding your eyes to look into his.
"Don't shy away from me now, babydoll. You're going to go back down to the lobby and finish the rest of your work day knowing my cum is going to be seeping through your pretty little panties, ok?" He ordered, and you dumbly nodded your head, still fucked out by the amazing dick you just received.
"Good girl" Eddie patted your ass, and you walked to the elevator with wobbly legs. Eddie laughed and held you stand straight before letting go before you reached the first floor.
You returned from your break fifteen minutes later than allotted, but Robin covered for you. You couldn't even look her in the eyes, and she knew you got freaky with the freak of Hawkins.
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flowering-thought · 14 days
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So uhhh guess who kinda has a lil brainrot about the psych ward AU and wanted to write an official chapter??
Rip the other stuff I'm working on why did I have to go and get brainrotted fuck- Came from this
Anyway have a lil intro chapter <3 Who should I add to the mix do you think?
Masterlist
WARNING - MINORS DNI
AFAB reader and reader is described as feminine and chubby/plus sized.
Yandere themes, obsessive behavior, things will progressively get more obsessive as I add to this lil series-
COD Psych Ward Unit × Reader
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Deep in the Alaskan wilderness, a 30-minute drive from the nearest town lies a highly secure hospital, containing multiple countries' top assets and operatives, whether, in service or retired, only a few know of its existence.
All staff, even janitorial staff, are picked carefully. The doctors who are chosen are in the know along with the head nurses and security staff. Knowing what is in that hospital in itself is a security risk. It's why the staff who know are not a majority.
The main staff, nurses, janitors, and cooking staff lack the knowledge that the hospital holds retired and highly dangerous military personnel on top of criminals from different countries.
So when you're picked and recommended to move to Alaska to work for a multinational hospital in the psych unit one look at the pay is all you need to say yes to moving.
I mean that kind of pay?? In this economy? You nearly thought it was a scam until it was certified by the United States government along with multiple other UN countries.
Moving was surprisingly easy, and you were a little sad to be leaving your current psych ward, but you got a good send-off from the few patients who you managed to help.
And now there you were, a new badge displaying your last name and horrible ID photo, a cute kitten badge holder clipped to the pocket of your scrubs. It was the only little bit of personality you could spare for Psych units you had to be careful about what you exposed about yourself and not have things on you that the patients could harm themselves with.
The first night shift in the unit was eerie. It was completely silent and the little windows that peeked into the individual patient rooms only provided so much light to check on patients.
Hell, three hours into your shift you wondered if anyone was even in these rooms.
It wasn't till three am that you noticed a patient buzzed a call button. So naturally you got up from your little traveling desk, taking your badge, and opening the door to room 142, "Hello? Is there anything I can do for you?" You called out into the semi-dark room, checking your charts for the patients' name, only finding the name "Ghost" typed in.
You raised your brow but didn't think anything of it, squinting your eyes a bit to see the hunched figure on their bed.
You heard him before you saw him, the sound of the mattress springs and a raspy accent following the figure, "Could ya get me some tea? I can't sleep." The figure spoke before coming into view, a baklava with a skull covering the individual's features.
You took a glance over his features, how tall and big he was, the muscles bulging from his shirt, and his eyes which focused on your form. You glanced at his chart, noticing his refusal to take medication, especially sleep medication. The doctors' notes told you to force him to take 100ml of trazodone, but when you took a glance up at the noticeable eyebags the man had you decided to go with your gut.
"Yeah I can get you some, just wait here I'll be right back." You said, giving a small smile before you closed the door and went to the staff break room, rummaging around for what you were hoping would be chamomile.
Sadly you had to make do with plain black tea as it was the only thing you could find the the cabinets. You brewed it in your mug before transferring it to a paper cup and leaving the break room.
You knocked on the door before opening it with your badge, and the familiar figure of Ghost appeared at the door. You gave him a smile as you held out the paper cup, "This was all I could find but I'll pick up something decent for my next shift okay? If you need anything else let me know.".
Ghost only observed you, taking the warm cup from your hand, his dark eyes watching the small smile tug at the corners of your lips, how you lifted your hand to give him a little wave before you closed his door.
You were the first nurse to not try and force sleeping medication down his throat. He tried the tea but it was one of the worst cups of tea he's ever had. But somehow he figured whatever tea you managed to scrounge up was expired at best. But still, the mere gesture made him relax a bit on his bed, keeping the cup between his hands to warm his skin.
Maybe the new nurse wasn't so bad.
As the days came and night fell, he didn't expect to see you come into your shift around dinner, getting a small paper bag checked in at the desk in the common area.
He sat with the rest of the boys, Price reading a book while Gaz and Soap grumbled about the horrible dinner they had. But Ghost couldn't help but watch you beg the person at the front desk that the snacks and drinks were just for the break room and nothing else.
He also noticed the little victory smile you wore when they approved the contents of the bag and let you pass through to the common area. Ghost couldn't help but smirk at the little spring in your step as you walked to the break room.
And the tea you gave him that night was the best cup he had ever since he was forced into this hellhole.
It had only been four days since you brought him tea, he had actually been getting a slightly better sleep, which led to him telling Price about you.
And once again, at the start of your shift, you had two observers of you checking into the front desk, Gaz and Soap noticing that their captain and lieutenant were a bit distracted from their tangent about the disgusting slop they called dinner. Both had grins as now four men were observing you while Soap tried to get Ghost to tell him about the pretty lass walking through the halls.
That night, when checking on patients, the second one you would come to meet was Price, who had kept his light on that night so he could read and hopefully catch you at a good time. He noticed the click of his door opening, how you opened the door and leaned against the doorframe and gave a small friendly smile, just like how you had with Ghost, "Hi? Price right? Is there anything I can do for you?".
Usually when the lights were on it meant they couldn't sleep or they needed something. That's what you learned at your first ward so you figured you'd do a check-in just in case.
"Don't need anything sweetheart, don't worry 'bout it." Price assured, his tone authoritative but a little soft, you assumed that had to do with how late it was. You noticed that he had a little reading light built above the bed and a shelf that had stacks of books built over the desk that came with all the rooms.
"You know there's a library here, right? I could get some books if you're running low on things to read." You mention, watching as Price eyes you. He didn't know what to think of you. Yeah, you were nice, and it didn't seem like you knew about the truth of this ward, but how was he to know if you did or didn't know what you were getting into?
You watched as his gaze went back to his book, his hand raising to turn a page, "As nice as that sounds sweetheart, the only thing I want is the daily paper and these damn muppets won't even let me have that." He grumbled.
You frowned, looking away from him to check his chart, noticing nightmares and slight paranoia on his chart but you also knew other patients with far worse delusions were allowed to read the newspaper.
After glancing over some rules and chewing on your lip a bit, you decided to do something a little foolish. After bidding Price a goodnight and delivering tea to Ghost, you finally had a weekend off.
During that weekend you bought some more things in town. Among them was a cheap kettle for the break room as it didn't look like the nurses used anything other than the coffee machine. You bought a couple more teas and a few papers. You got a few from the Alaskan sources but also noticed a couple papers that came from other countries and decided to sneak those in the Alaskan papers you were already gonna sneak into work.
By the next Monday evening, you were knocking on Prices' door with a small smile and a suspicious hand covering your stomach that looked oddly ruffled under your scrubs.
"Alright, Price, since you don't seem like a snitch, you better remember that these didn't come from me alright?" Price only looked up to see you pulling out a couple folded-up newspapers from underneath your scrubs, a little wrinkled and battered from you having to make sure they didn't slide out.
His eyes were widened and his eyebrows were up in complete surprise. He really didn't expect you to actually bring him the paper, "Are you sure about this? Won't they know about this?" He asked, approaching where you stood, putting a hand on his hip, hesitant to actually take the papers.
"Well this ward isn't technically allowed the paper which is odd cause other wards are but it shouldn't be too bad. And as many restrictions they have here they don't go through your trash looking for things so it should be fine!" You say, a big smile reaching your lips as you shove the papers into his hands, "Now you enjoy and I can't do this too often so next time I have a day off I'll get you some more. Just remember I'm not the one handing you them hm?".
While you did these small acts of kindness not really expecting anything, what you wouldn't know is that during the day, when you're off shift and sleeping the day away, Price and Ghost would start talking about you to Soap and Gaz after Soap started teasing about their crush on the new nurse.
Their thoughts were, if you're truly so kind then surely you could do something about the slop at dinner no?
This started a full week campaign of Soap saying "Come on lass surely you could do something huh?" and Gaz joined in with, "Please love, if you had to have the bloody mess of what these idiots call dinner you'd understand."
Price had attempted to get them off your ass but a few whines from Gaz was enough to make Price back off.
Soap was the first to get a knock on his door, his messy sheets strewn about his room as you handed him the flimsy pen and a sheet of paper, "Write down simple snacks and I can get you some, the cooking staff are assholes that refuse to change anything so this is all I can do.".
The grin that formed on his face was surprisingly cute to you and you watched as he started writing on his desk quickly only to hand it to you in 30 seconds with a "Thanks bonnie!". You watched as just before he handed the list to you he hesitated and his hand moved to the back of his neck, lightly squeezing before he looked you straight in the eye, "I'm real thankful for all this lass. Ever since we came here its' been the same shite daily but you've made it more bearable so thank you.".
You weren't expecting such a heartfelt thanks but just smiled and pat his shoulder while telling him not to worry. The last thing Soap saw that night was your back as the door closed.
The next stop was Gaz with the same protocol, the same flimsy pen they deem safe for patients, and a little sheet of paper.
Unlike Soap he was more quiet, his eyes not showing anything but you saw his leg shake up and down as he contemplated taking the sheet of paper from your hands.
You saw his mouth open and close until finally he asked, "Why are you doing thing you don't have to do?".
Part of you understood it. I mean, they were just patients. He'll all the other nurses just did the bare minimum and from what you heard of the day shift nurses they practically left them in the common area and fucked off.
But maybe it was the part of you that had too much empathy, the part of you that knew what it's like to sit in a psych ward, lonely and depressed and stuck in a cycle you can't get out of. You shook those thoughts from your head and Gaz swore the smile you gave him in this moment was probably the prettiest he's ever seen.
"Cause if I was here, I'd want someone in my corner, ya know?" Was all you stated as you handed him the paper.
Next weekend and you had snacks that you'd sneak the boys after dinner at the beginning of the night shift. Some of the other nurses noticed your habit of giving the boys some snacks but you offered to help fun for a better coffee machine as silence so they never ratted you out to the head nurse.
And your relationship with them definitely got better as the days flew by, a full month at the ward with the pay you were getting and you were considering changing your shift to day shift.
Unknown to you, the boys were attaching to you far quicker than you'd expect. All their flirty comments flying over your head as you kept it professional.
But with the day shift comes more interactions with other patients. I wonder how many patients will soon be at your beck and call.
563 notes · View notes
strawb3rrystar · 10 months
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Young! Coriolanus Snow Headcanons for you lovely people (Sfw & Nsfw)
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Word count: 400+
✰Masterlist
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✰ No one can convince me otherwise, Coryo would eat you out like a starving man. Once he starts, he's not fucking stopping.
✰ He'll have you shaking and crying from overstimulation.
✰ Clingy af, can't be alone for five minutes. Has to be touching you 24/7. Holding your hand, or waist, cuddling, hell even touching shoulders.
✰ Loves when you sit in his lap while he works. He also loves to rest his chin on your shoulder or head.
✰ Once he starts climbing the ranks and earning more money, he'll buy you anything you want.
✰ Is obsessed with the image of you on your knees with little tears in your eyes as you try and take all of his cock in your mouth.
✰ Kisses your hand out of habit. He doesn't even think about it. He just does it.
✰ Buys you lacey, cute lingerie, just so he can rip it off you.
✰ Coryo is the most jealous man you will ever meet. Like, he'll see you talking to another person and maybe laughing a little too much at their jokes. And then he'll drag you away to fuck you until you remember who you belong to.
✰ Definitely has some kind of ownership kink. Coryo wants to get married as soon as possible, so you can take his last name and be with him forever.
✰ Even though he's rough, Coryo is just so passionate that he gets a little loud. Prefers to bury his face in your neck or smash his lips onto yours to muffle his moans.
✰ He'll gift you extravagant rose bouquets out of nowhere just to see you smile.
✰ Loves the idea of fucking you in front of a mirror, making you watch your abdomen bulge from his size.
✰ Is terrible at dealing with emotions, especially his own, so he'll kiss your tears as he rubs your back.
✰ Purposefully fucks you in a risky spot, the adrenaline rush he gets is just too good to care if someone walks in.
✰ Would keep your relationship private until you get married. Not because he's ashamed of you. He's just worried about your safety, as there are many people who don't particularly like him.
✰ Is iffy on the idea of children, but loves to see you stuffed full and leaking his cum.
✰ If he's invited to an event, he'll bring you along with him.
✰ In between a hard dom and service dom. Coryo can be rough at times, but he'll always makes sure you are enjoying yourself and get to cum.
✰ He has a picture of you on his desk to help him stay motivated.
✰ Let's you ride him every once in a while, but he's still guiding you and grabbing your hips.
✰ Will always have post-sex cuddles with you. It's his favorite thing to do after a long day.
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Star's notes -> Just some small headcanons that popped up in my brain.
(Requests are open!)
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Taglist -> Join the taglist
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edens-pen · 2 years
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romans 3:23
summary | nanami kento can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.
pairing | priest!nanami kento x fem!reader
word count | 3,206
warnings | oh god — blasphemy, sacrilege, sex in a church, oral (f!receiving), pussyjob, masturbation, corruption kink, virgin kink, unprotected sex, cervix fucking, god kink, worship kink, praise, degradation, creampie, slight breeding kink, just the tip, squirting, dub con (ish), minorly ooc kento :(
a/n | this was not beta'd + i have church in the morning. dabbling in some kinktober!! something light for y'all to enjoy &lt;3
[ 18 + | minors, blank, ageless blogs, do not interact! ]
nanami kento was a man of the cloth.
of course, the operative word being "was."
he was a man of the cloth until you waltzed into the church with your family. a fresh college graduate, staying with her parents to save money, teaching at the local elementary school.
the first sunday you came in a modest dress, your soft eyes taking in the composure of the church before they landed on him. a demure smile settled on your face and you ducked your head after meeting his eyes.
he was hooked.
it's not like he could help it. your eyes stayed trained on him throughout every service and he loved your attention. he thrived under your watchful gaze, the way you hung off of every word he spoke.
and you weren't a mystery, nanami could read you like a book. he saw the way your thighs clenched in the pew when his voice raised.
it only took a few weeks for you to show up in his office.
the perfect combination of innocent and repentant. the conversation starts sweet, a recollection of your time in college and your abandonment of church.
"i didn't go to church when i went away, i was busy and distracted," you sigh, fiddling with your fingers. "i have maintained my purity in college, but recently, i've been...tempted."
nanami can't explain the relief that floods him when he hears that you're a virgin, and the excitement that hits him when you start to open up.
"i've been having impure thoughts and they've been getting worse every week, i try to ignore them, but last night, i couldn't." your voice is a shaky whine, afraid of the consequences. "i touched myself."
your confession has nanami's eyes nearly rolling back. he bites the inside of his cheek thinking about you with your hands between your legs, rocking against your fingers. he thinks about how slick your thighs would be, how easily you would give in and come for him. he knows you're pent up, you've spent your life in restriction.
it's that moment of silence that has you filling the gap again.
"it was only that one time father, and i've never done it before then, and i haven't done it since!"
nanami refrains from smiling, only nodding at your words. he leans forward, clasping his hands on the desk.
"i'd like you to come to me the next time you're experiencing your impure thoughts, i believe i can help."
you graciously accept and nanami only bids you a good evening.
he doesn't expect to see you again so soon, or for you to be sitting in his office on a friday night, the edge of your skirt between your fingers, tears in your eyes.
"i'm so sorry father nanami, i tried not to think about it!" you're crying now and nanami is so thankful he's behind his desk because the sight of your tears is getting him so hard.
he gives you a little smile before he asks, "what did you think about?"
this is when you freeze, body tight and in panic. you stutter out a few words, but nanami cuts you off. "it's okay, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god, confess and i can help you."
with his reassurance, you open your mouth and confess.
"i have these thoughts all the time," you bow your head and swallow harshly as you continue. "it's wrong but i think about him having sex with him."
"it's best to talk about our sins," nanami takes a slow breath before rising from his chair. "to relieve ourselves from concealment. who is this person you're having these thoughts about?"
at his words, your eyes meet his again. "i can't—"
"do you believe that you can hide from god? they are not hidden from my face, nor is their sin concealed from my eyes."
his tone is stern and it makes you nervous to see the hard line of his frown.
"it's you."
nanami clenches his teeth at your pitiful, little whisper. the shame sits hot in your face and he can't help but drink it in.
he can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.
the only thing he can do now is drag you down with him.
that night, nanami consoles your fears and worries, he tells you the real work will start after sunday morning service. he promises you that there is nothing to worry about, there is no sin that can't be washed clean by god's love.
so sunday evening, you tell your parents you're doing intensive study with nanami and they are overjoyed to hear it.
in fact, they encourage you to stay as long as you can.
so nanami takes his time with you. he walks you through scriptures and teachings and prayers and at the end he even gives you a technique to keep you from truly sinning.
"what people don't know is that masturbation is a sin," nanami explains, taking your hands in his. "only if you climax."
your eyebrows furrow and nanami continues, "it's not a sin if you don't finish."
he demonstrates by having you sit on top of his desk, skirt hiked up around your waist, panties hanging off your ankle.
nanami's kneeling in front of you, eyes shut. he's just breathing you in and he wasn't surprised to see that your thighs are glistening. you've just spent the last hour skirting his touches and listening to the rumble of his voice.
he pets lightly at your folds, as you lean back, propped up on your elbows. spreading you open, nanami groans to himself at your slick hole, begging for him to touch you. his fingers trace lightly over your cunt before tapping at your clit.
of course you're sensitive. his light touches have you trembling and shaking, already crying out his name.
"is this what you thought of when you touched yourself," nanami speaks, his breath right over your mound. his eyes flicker up to meet yours, hooded and desperate. "me between your legs, playing with this filthy mess?"
you nod pathetically and nanami continues. there's no rhyme or reason to the way he's touching you. he's greedily spreading your mess around your thighs and flicking at your clit while you cry above him.
"please, please nanami, it feels so good."
he responds by sealing his mouth over you, teasing his tongue against your clit.
his finger starts slipping inside your cunt, stretching you out. nanami relishes in how tight you are, knowing that your little fingers weren't enough to open you up for him. with little effort, nanami's grazing spots inside of you that you didn't even know existed.
your mess is sliding down his wrist, but he doesn't stop. he keeps going until you're whining his name again, desperate and pleading.
"oh god, please, i can't!" your fingers find purchase in his hair, keeping his mouth over your pussy. "let me cum! just this once, please, i'll be good. i need you."
tears are welling up in your eyes, but nanami knows this isn't what you need right now. he feels your cunt tightening around his fingers as your voice goes up in shrill cries.
"you want to cum?"
"yes, so bad! please let me cum!"
it only worsens when he pulls away, leaving you empty.
the tendrils of your upcoming orgasm slip away and your tears fall even faster.
your watery eyes find nanami who's sitting back, smiling teasingly at you.
"see? you did so good."
you don't believe him, not until nanami has kneeling in front of him as performs similar acts on himself.
his cock is hard and weeping against his fist. he insisted on using the slick from your denied orgasm to smooth the movements of his hand. the wet sounds of his pleasure fill the office.
"you make me feel so good, you're so damn pretty," nanami grunts. you're inches away from his dick, and he can feel the puffs of your breath against the tip. your eyes are trailing the motions of his hand, the flex of his stomach, and the tension in his thighs.
his languid pace speeds up to something rough and fast, it's taking everything in nanami not to come on your face, not to spew every disgusting thought in his mind.
all in due time.
so he settles for making you think he's just like you. when he feels the knot of pleasure about to unwind, he grabs the base of dick and squeezing until your name sounds like a curse on his lips.
"god, baby, see?" he's out breath, but it's okay when he sees the light smile on your lips. "it's okay if you don't come."
nanami honestly doesn't know when he got so fucked. he thought he had control of this. he believed he had control of his actions, but you've taken root in his brain, and he had to know that edging you and himself wasn't going to be enough.
it only takes a few more sessions for nanami to convince you to do more. that it's okay, as long as you come with nanami in the room to oversee it. and it's okay as long as you come on his fingers, or in his mouth.
now, nanami has you grinding on his lap, using your cute little cunt to give him a pussyjob. your panties are stuffed in his pocket and his pants are around his ankles. his dick is harder than its ever been in his life, the tip is leaking between your pussy lips, throbbing and red.
"don't worry," nanami groans into your neck. "it's fine as long as i'm not inside you."
nanami feels like he might even believe it himself, because he knows it must be heaven inside your pussy. and to deprive himself of it right now must make him a saint.
the way you're whining in his ear and clutching his shoulder has nanami strongly considering otherwise.
"this feels so good, you're so big nanami!"
and while he doesn't need his ego stroked, he knows your words are genuine. he can tell from the way you're crying it out in disbelief. he needs to hear the way you'll sound when he's sinking his cock inside you, fucking against that sweet spot he touches his fingers.
"'nami, 's good, oh my—" you cut yourself off with a broken moan, and nanami can tell you're getting close with the way your slick pours out, covering his cock.
he's learned that you cum the hardest when he's pinching your nipples and talking you through it. so with one hand nanami guides your hips, keeping you moving in his lap, and with the other he's playing with your chest.
all the while nanami's speaking praises into your ear.
"you're such a pretty little angel, you listen so well," nanami kisses your neck, careful not to leave a mark above your collar. "always so perfect for me."
and his words have you soaring, crying out his name as you clutch his shirt.
but this is still not enough.
your pretty eyes filled with tears and the sound of his name on your lips isn't enough anymore.
it should be alarming that it's taken nanami such a short period of time to be so infatuated with you, but he can't bring himself to care.
not when you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky,
like he gave the sun it's light,
like he's god.
it's love and it's power and nanami cannot let this go. your body is singing the devil's song and he's echoing the words.
so in the same breath, he's teasing the tip of his cock at your entrance, whispering reassurance as he does.
"promise it'll be just the tip, angel, just need to feel you like this."
he doesn't try to assuage you with promises of heaven and a sinless life. he knows that won't work. nanami thinks you might love him more than you love your religion.
he hopes he's right.
so you're giving in, making him promise "just the tip." and nanami nods half-heartedly, already pussydrunk imagining the way you're going to swallow him up.
"too big, 'nami, 's too big!"
but it's just the tip and it's got his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your sucking him.
he lets you settle around him before he tilts your head up to look at him again. placing kisses under your jaw, he tries to distract himself from the inviting warmth of your heat, but the feeling of his lips on your neck has you squirming in his lap.
"i can—oh god—i can take more, right? you'll give me more?" you whine in his ear, desperate and pleading, like it's nanami's fault he's not touching your cervix right now.
in truth nanami was trying to control the situation, swearing to himself that he wouldn't ruin you in one night.
but he's a weak man with simple desires and being inside you is a pleasure he can no longer deny himself.
so nanami takes your hips in his hands and keeps you right on his tip. then he takes his time sinking you down, ignoring your cries and whines of it being too much. he knows you can take it.
it takes him too long to get your hips all the way down, his balls pressed against your ass. by the time he's seated completely inside you, sweat has collected in the valley between your breasts and nanami has left marks along your neck.
"doin' so good for me, so wet and tight," nanami grunts in your ear. his praise sinks right in your stomach and he knows it.
nanami tries to take it slow because this is your first time, he barely even got to prep you, but once he starts thrusting, the sound of your voice knocks him out entirely.
"oh—oh my god!" your nails are raking down his back as you cry out, "kento!"
the sound of his first falling off your lips has nanami's rhythm stuttering. he doesn't know why it floors him, but he knows he's not going as slow as he was when he first started.
in the back of his mind, he know he should not be drilling you like this. nanami should have you laid out on his bed, softly easing his way into your cunt, probably with a condom on, after having wrung multiple orgasms from your body. he should continue praising you, reminding how good you're doing for him.
instead he's got you bouncing totally naked in his lap, his pants down around his ankles, with his hand clutching the base of your throat. tears are falling down your cheeks and nanami can't stop himself from licking them up with fervor. and all he can think of is how filthy you are for letting him fuck you in a church, and that's all that comes out of his mouth.
"so fucking slutty for me, baby," nanami groans, thrusting up harder. "letting me in this cunt so easily? have you been saving it for me?"
"yeah, all for you, just for you," you swear. "god, it's only yours!"
nanami nods, kissing your lips sloppily, "just for me? your tight, wet pussy was waiting for my fucking cock?"
"kento—"
"this body's supposed to be the temple of god, you know that? i've taken an oath, bound myself to God, spent hours of my life in prayer and solitude," nanami rambles, flicking your nipples as he speaks. "then you walk in with this sweet, virgin cunt and i've never wanted anything more."
with every thrust, nanami's rolling against your spot, fucking you into the shape of his cock. and he's in your ear telling you that he owns you now, that every inch of your body belongs to him, entirely. so you keep agreeing with him, nodding and promising that nobody else will touch you like this.
he's got his hands all over your body, playing with your chest, groping your ass, and then gripping your throat tightly.
in the silence that comes from you being choked, nanami chuckles a little.
"hear that?"
and you know what he's talking about immediately. the sounds of him fucking you, the squelching sounds of your arousal loud and echoing in his office.
"it's how bad your little pussy wanted me. how bad she wanted to fuck her priest. came to my church to fuck things up, hm?" nanami slows down, grinding you on his lap while he taunts you. "wore that white dress and wanted me to lose my religion. knew i couldn't resist this hot fucking body sitting in my pew."
you're trying to disagree but with nanami's cock pressed against cervix, but you can't even uncross your eyes.
"fucking answer me."
nodding, you mindlessly agree, "yes, you're right! kento—my god—i'm so close, please don't stop."
and the way you keep mixing his name with cries for God is making nanami's head spin. he's starting to think you're doing it on purpose.
"yeah? beg me some more," nanami smiles, nipping at your neck again. "i like hearing you."
you bite back the petulant whine rising up in your throat and choose to be obedient. "kento, please let me cum—want it so bad, please!"
this time nanami obliges you, twisting your nipples between his fingers, urging you to cum for him.
"be my nasty fucking girl and cum on my cock, sinful little slut."
your nails dig harshly into his shoulder as you toss your head back in heavenly ecstasy.
"oh my—fuck!"
the curse falling from your lips is followed by the collection of tension in your body. your cunt tightens around nanami's cock as you freeze on nanami's lap. he keeps fucking you through it, his cock pounding into your cunt while you gush and squirt around him.
"can you cum inside me, kento? please?" you're begging again, even more for his cum than for your own orgasm. "i want it so bad, want you to fill me up, okay? you'll do it right, kento? you'll give me your cum?"
and what choice does nanami have? he has to empty his balls inside you.
"gonna dump my fucking cum in your cunt," nanami growls.
that's all the warning you get before he's fulfilling his promise, giving you everything he's got. his groans and curses fill your ears while his hips stutter, painting your insides white.
nanami sighs in contentment, rubbing his hands up and down your back as his cock softens inside you. he feels you relax in his lap, tiredness overtaking your limbs.
the evidence of your sin leaks down to nanami's balls.
you lean your forehead against his, stars still in your eyes. even after the depraved acts nanami's performed on you in the last couple of weeks, you still think he's created heaven and earth.
"thank you so much kento, you're so good to me," you whisper and it sounds like a prayer.
in nanami's ears, it sounds like worship.
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wtfsteveharrington · 5 months
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I need a just the tip smut with richie jerimovich
a/n: richie my beloved <3 thank you for requesting!!
contents: richie's a menace and badgering the reader in a playful way, unprotected p in v, fingering, semi public (we all love that damn office), reader referred to as princess once. when i say this is a quickie i mean it!
word count: 1,420 (lol)
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•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
Richie annoyed you - A lot. Constantly annoyed you in fact!
And things haven’t improved since you made out with in the heat of the moment a few months ago. Arguing outside the restaurant after a particularly rough dinner service. He blamed the way you ran front of house, you blamed him for sending table 18’s second course to table 31 (which he promises he didn’t do) and throwing off the flow of the kitchen.
There was a moment when the arguing turned to silence and the two of you staring at each other. Both trying to read the moment. You still don't know who moved first but it was passionate, sloppy, and seared into your memory.
Thus began a mess of touching and kissing when you shouldn't be. It hadn't gone all the way yet, much to Richie's dismay. The closest he got was eating you out in the backseat of his car which you promptly left after you finished and flipped him off as you skipped to your own car. Richie had to drive home hard and annoyed and teasingly gave you a cold shoulder the next day but you'd catch a wicked grin on his face whenever he turned away from you. Both of you loved this game.
You secretly loved the power it gave you when he'd beg and whine and grab any inch of skin you'd let him. Rutting himself against you, shamelessly needy. You made him feel like a teenager again. Stuck with the urge to fold his pillow around his length and fuck into it to get some source of friction besides his hand. It made him feel pathetic and you feel pride.
He loved it too, don't let him lie to you.
That's how you found yourself in the nice office, hips pressed against the edge of the desk while Richie stood behind you. His hands were cupping your breasts over your shirt, savoring the weight of them in his hands while he grinds against your ass. You, on the other hand, try to act unbothered while you look over paperwork even if the both of you know it's getting to you. Thighs turning slick and warm and God he feels good.
“C’mon, Babe. My dick is fuckin’ rock solid. Help me out, yeah? Don’t you want me focused for tonight or are you really gonna let everyone drown because you won’t help take care of ole Richie?” He’s grabbing a hold of the hem of your skirt, pushing it up at your waist and admiring the way your ass looked covered in some white lacey number you totally didn’t buy with the hopes of him seeing it.
You huff and pretend to be inconvenienced but you're reaching the end of your resolve too. Letting go of the papers you were hyper focused on and instead sliding your hands around your body and pulling your underwear to the side so he, finally, has access to you. There's a loud, drawn out groan coming from the man behind you which has you whipping your head around with a sharp, "Shut the fuck up, Richie."
He's looking up at you now and innocently holds his hands up in the air as an apology. There's wicked smirk as one of his hands come down to trace over your core. A rough finger dragging along the folds, bumping your clit before he presses two into you. "Knew you wanted me too, Princess." You can't help but roll your eyes, still adjusting your position on the desk so you're better able to arch your ass back towards him. "Just the tip."
Richie's motions stall, brows knitting together. "You fuckin' serious?" Which makes you laugh while you roll your hips back, chasing your own pleasure by using his hand that's still against your warm core. "Serious. Now - Just the tip and hurry up before we get caught. Think I'd die if anyone knew I was letting you fuck me raw in here."
His hand slides out of you and delivers a sharp smack to your pussy before he's taking your command and making quick work of his pants. Fine, if you wanted to play this game still he'd make sure to drive you just as insane as you were driving him.
You feel the head of his cock tapping against you now, teasing the both of you by rocking himself against your clit. "You're tryna give me shit but you're this fuckin' wet? Bent over the desk and begging. Play tough all you want but you need me."
"Jesus Christ, Richie. Are you gonna keep running your mouth or fin- Oh!" He's cutting you off as you feel him push into you. The head of his cock barely tucked between your folds as you both adjust to the sensation. He's giving you a second before pushing in another in, letting the tip of him rest snug inside of you.
Richie's rubbing his hands over your ass, the texture difference between your smooth skin and the lace of your underwear driving him crazy. Fine, maybe he was clowning you at first but there's something so... Intimate about this. Or maybe you just already had him whipped and he was hopeless.
He's fucking into you just barely, fully content to play along if that’s what it took to finally find himself inside of you.
There’s a pounding on the door snapping you both out of it. Richie’s startled and accidentally sinking a few more inches into you, both of you fighting every urge to moan. “Dinner service starts in twenty! Finish up your paperwork and get out here!”
You're in the clear. No door handle jiggling, no one barging in.
Everyone knew you took some time right before dinner to ensure there were no missed allergies, reservations, and nothing running short. Everyone knew Richie would take off his suit jacket so it didn't smell like smoke before taking a few minutes out back to burn through some cig's. Splashing on cologne from his car before coming back in. They all probably assumed he was somewhere in that circuit out back.
But yet, here you two actually were.
The two of you stand there, still connected, in silence for a moment. Making sure the coast is clear before continuing this already risky game. Once a few seconds have passed, neither of you know quite what to do.
So you take the initiative.
Rolling your hips back and fucking yourself on the few inches Richie has managed to sink into you. His hands are on your ass now, pulling it apart so he can get a better look at the head of his cock slowly pushing in and out of you. Neither of you dare make too loud of a sound.
Your head falls forward, pressing your mouth against your upper arm to muffle any sounds that threaten to slip out when Richie pulls all the way back just to resink himself halfway in. It's a quick motion but the sound of him just barely gliding through your wetness was sinful. Richie's torn between throwing his head back and savoring the sensation or focusing on what's happening right in front of him, "Fuck you, gonna make me come like this." He's squeezing at the handfuls of your ass, fighting the urge to bury himself completely but knows that isn't your game for now.
You can feel his resolve breaking so you decide to prolong this game. Giving him a squeeze of your muscles around his cock before leaning all the way forward so Richie has to slide out of you. His jaw goes slack and you hear a breathless whine from behind you as he instantly wraps a fist around himself to keep the feeling going. Your underwear are getting put back in place, skirt being folded down as you grab a towel from the pile of clean laundry in the corner of the office and hand it to him with a smirk. "Use this to finish in, don't make a mess of your suit."
Richie can't decide if he loathes you or wants to kiss the ground you walk on. You lean up, letting your lips work his jaw for a moment as you feel the head of his cock press against your thigh while he continues to jack himself off. "Don't fuck up tonight and I'll let you come home with me."
You pull back, throwing him a wink before sneaking out of the office door to go clean yourself up before dinner service. Leaving Richie standing there fucking himself into a rag and laughing at the mess you've made of him.
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lovelybucky1 · 1 year
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Leashed
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Kinktober Day 10- Pet Play
warnings: pet play, cockwarming, dom/sub dynamics, vaginal sex, 18+ minors DNI
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kinktober masterlist
Tommy had always wanted a dog. Growing up he never had one, playing with the strays on the street instead. Now, he doesn’t have time to take care of a pet. Not one so reliant on him, anyway.
That’s why he has you. You’re obedient, never causing any trouble or making messes he has to clean up. You love to play, but you’re content sitting at his feet as long as he pets you every now and then. You’re good at fetch; you always get him his matchbook or a glass for his whiskey whenever he asks. And best of all, you have a tight cunt you’re eager to let him use whenever he wants it.
You’re not a prostitute, he made that much clear when your arrangement started. You’re on his payroll for the company you provide, not the sex. Whatever you do with your cunt is between you and Tommy, not the business.
He got you a custom made collar from the leather worker down the street, and your role has been set ever since. You’re Tommy Shelby’s puppy. Loyal, obedient, perfect.
Today Tommy is in a particularly sour mood. A business deal fell through or something, you never know the specifics, and he’s been angry all afternoon.
You know better not to pester him, especially when he’s like this, but you truly hate seeing him upset. You’ve been kneeling at his feet and he hasn’t even pet you in over an hour. You paw at his pant leg to get his attention.
“What is it?” he asks without looking down at you.
“Do you need anything, sir?” you ask.
He shakes his head and sighs heavily. “If I needed something, I’d take it. Keep quiet, pet.”
You pout but take his instruction and stay silent. You walk forward on your knees to rest your cheek against his thigh. He sighs again but doesn’t chastise you for it. Still, he doesn’t pet you.
You stay like that for a while, but you can feel his tension and you hate when he won’t tell you what he needs.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No,” he replies, frustration evident in his voice.
“I can help you relax, sir.”
Tommy slams his fist onto the solid oak top of his desk. “I don’t need your fucking help. I’m trying to work.”
You huff. You don’t usually act like this, but Tommy is never usually so dismissive of you.
“I was going to offer to sit on your cock while you work, but I guess you’re too busy.”
It was petty, but it peaked Tommy’s interest. His large hand cups the back of your neck and you look up at him.
“You’ve never acted this way before,” he says with an unreadable tone.
“I just want to help you, sir.”
Tommy's jaw clenches and he sighs heavily. Then, he reaches down to loop his finger in the ring of your collar and pulls you up to your feet. You watch as he undoes his pants and takes out his soft cock.
He looks up at you expectantly, waiting for you to service him. You grasp his dick and begin to stroke him gently, working him up to full hardness. It doesn't take long; Tommy can never resist your soft hands.
Once he's at full mast, you pull up your dress and straddle his lap. His cock slides into you slowly and once he's fully seated, you wiggle your hips to get comfortable.
"Stop fuckin' moving. I've got work to do," Tommy gruffs.
You nod and rest your chin on his shoulder. You sit still like a good girl while he fills out whatever paperwork is on his desk. You can feel the tension in his muscles release a bit as time passes, your cunt obviously doing the trick.
You don't move your body, but your walls clench around him every now and then. You're not doing it on purpose, you just can't help it. It feels so good being full of Tommy's dick.
"Puppy," Tommy says, breaking the almost hour of silence.
"Yes, sir?"
"You're distracting me."
"I'm sorry, sir. I swear I'm not doing it on purpose," you say with a pout, trying to look as honest as possible.
Tommy puts his pen down and leans back in his chair, creating space between your face and his so he can get a good look at you.
"Cunt's just that desperate for me, eh?" You nod. "Well I suppose I've worked hard enough for one day. I could use a bit of stress release."
Tommy's hands land on your hips and he begins to rock you back and forth. Tommy never was strong willed when it came to you.
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turtletaubwrites · 5 months
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TurtleTaub Fic Recs ~ Part 3
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I think it's so fucking cool that we can hop onto this silly site, and swim around in all these amazing One Piece stories together. There's so much talent, creativity, and all around awesomeness in this community, and I'm so grateful that I get to enjoy it with you. Please check out these wonderful fics, and show the writers some love!! 🖤🖤🖤 | NSFW ~ 🔥| ANGST ~ 😭| FLUFF ~ 🥰| DARK CONTENT 🌑| | SERIES ~ 📚| HEADCANONS/DRABBLES/IMAGINES ~ ✍🏼| | Other Fic Rec Lists ~ | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 |
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Ace
fading flames (😭✍🏼) ~ by @lowkeycasanova  ~ Ace x Reader ~ I love this premise so much, and it's short but sweet (by sweet I mean ANGSTY painful ouchy!) It has a high likelihood of making you cry, and I love it 😭🖤
No time for playing games (🔥) ~ by @oxymorayuri ~ Ace x Reader ~ This so captures what a charming lil ass he can be. Reader (like me) can't help but swoon over this guy, and the end result is so satisfying 🥰🥵
Buggy
A Line from Me to You (🥰📚 + eventual 🔥) ~ by @hey-august  ~ Buggy x afab!Reader ~ I adore this story! It's so cute, a secret book club with Buggy who wears reading glasses, and has FEELINGS. It's so sweet, and I can't wait for more!
Untitled (but bittersweet) (🔥😭✍🏼) ~ by @hey-august ~ Buggy x GN!Reader ~ Beautiful, hot, and painful, ooh it hurts! Ugh, this one really got to me, such good, smutty angst 🙏🏼🙏🏼
Crushing On The Captain (✍🏼) ~ by @soft-mafia ~ Halp, we've gotta make sure this sweet, pathetic clown knows that he's loveable!! 😭🤡 So stinkin' cute!
Crocodile
Cleaning Up (🔥) ~ by @discordantwritings  ~ Crocodile x Fem!afab!Reader ~ This had me squealing 😭🥵 I loooove Crocodile in this. So fucking hot, and I need to live there now, please and thank you 🙏🏼
Law
Sweet Dreams (🔥) ~ by @strawheart-pirate  ~ Law x afab!Reader ~ The best part of waking up is not Folger's in your cup. It's Law watching you have a sex dream, and making it come true 🥰🥵 This one'll be stuck in my brain for awhile
Imagine refusing to wear a boiler suit while travelling with Law… (✍🏼) ~ by @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction ~ Law x Reader ~ Flustered Law is so fucking adorable, I wanna squeeze him 😠 This one is super cute and silly, and I love it
So Pretty (🔥🥰) ~ @maddddstuff ~ Law x afab!reader ~ soft law soft law SOFT LAW!!! This is so fucking sweet & hot. Warning: It might make you catch MORE feelings about this guy, ugh!! Had me twirling my hair, and spinning in my desk chair 😭
Multi and/or Character x Character
Take What You're Given (🔥🔥🔥) ~ by @indydonuts  ~ Sanji x Straw Hats ~ Holy fucking smut 😳🥵🥵🥵 Insanely hot SMUTSMUTSMUT with Sanji, and the Straw Hats taking turns with him. Go have fun 😊
Somewhere Inbetween (🔥) ~ by @discordantwritings ~ Nami x gn!afab!reader x Robin ~ My absolute dream come true, holy shit. Seriously, it's like this was pulled from my lil desperate bisexual brain, and I will forever be grateful for this glorious smut with our perfect Straw Hat ladies 🥰🙏🏼
The Long Con (📚🥰😭 + eventual smut 🔥) ~ by @emptystove ~ Nami x Law ~ This series is so much fun! I binged the first 5 chapters in one sitting, and I'm loving the plot, and the way Law and Nami are written. I can't wait to get to more of the drama/action, and of course the smutty smut 🥰
Sanji
Cup of Coffee, and a Tall Glass of You (🥰 )~ by @decorativetrashbag  ~ Sanji x Fem!Reader ~ Fluffy, adorable workplace crush 😍😍 I would be a mess if I had to work with this guy everyday, lol.
Entirely at your service (🔥🥰📚) ~ by @vespidphoenix ~ Sanji x Fem!Chubby!OC ~ This is so DECADENT! I adore Sanji and the OC's (Amy) banter, chemistry, and the lovely consent and extra sexy, sexy times. So good, I'm excited to see more of these two!
Through Shadow (🥰😭📚) ~ by @gingernut1314 ~ Sanji x Fem!Reader ~ I adore the reader's backstory and struggles, and Sanji is so fucking precious! Falling for the cook again 🥰
Smoker
Pet Name - Love (🔥✍🏼) ~ by @honeyshiddendesire  ~ Smoker x Fem!Reader ~ Oof, this old man can get it. (Lol, just looked up his age, and the white hair deceived me. He's 34, only one year older than me pre timeskip 😅) But seriously, this is soo fucking hot 🥵🥵🥵 I've been avoiding Smoker fics because I knew I'd get obsessed, and this fic did it. I need him so bad 😭
Zoro
Forgive Me if I break You (📚😭🌑 + light 🔥) ~ by @shewrites02  ~ Zoro x Fem!Reader ~ This story is soooo goood!! I'm falling in love with Zoro all over again 😭💚 The reader's angst and struggles are written so beautifully, and I can't wait for the next chapter!!
Oi, you wanna die? (✍🏼) ~ by @zorosbeau33 ~Zoro x gn!Reader ~ I love the vibes! Gala setting, the Straw Hat's on a secret mission, and Zoro being absolutely obsessed with the reader 🥰💚
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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Three for One 1
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.
You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.
You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.
While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.
You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.
"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.
He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.
"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."
"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"
"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.
"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."
"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"
"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.
You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.
"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."
"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.
"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"
He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.
You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.
You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.
You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.
"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.
"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.
He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.
"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."
You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.
What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.
Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.
You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.
You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.
“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”
“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”
You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.
“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”
“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”
He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”
His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.
“How old is she?” You ask.
“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”
“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”
You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.
“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”
You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.
“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”
“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”
“Is it faster?” 
“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”
You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.
“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.
“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”
“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”
You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”
“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”
“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.
“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”
He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”
You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.
“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”
“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”
“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”
Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.
“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.
“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”
Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”
“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”
“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.
“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.
“Next week,” the first man growls.
“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”
Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.
“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.
“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.
“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”
“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”
“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”
“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”
“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”
“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.
“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”
“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”
“Two weeks?” He puffs.
“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”
“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.
“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”
“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.
“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”
“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”
“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!
“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”
He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.
“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”
“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”
You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.
“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.
“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”
He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.
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uravichii · 2 years
Text
4:17 AM ー shinsou hitoshi
genre: fluff, heavy comfort in the end, self-indulgent !!
cw: (1) mention of "ma'am" i'm so sorry it sounded cute i couldn't help it. that's the only gendered term here tho :') this is for all u tired smarty pants girlies im giving u a bf who'll stay up with u 😡
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shinsou hitoshi's favorite thing to do is staying up with you throughout every single one of your all-nighters.
whether it's for an exam, a shit ton of homework, or a group project which, for some reason, you're finishing all by yourselfー he's plopped there on your bed, perfectly behaved and quiet as you threatened asked him to be.
when you ask him why he's so insistent on accompanying you during these ungodly hours when you can't even give him a scrap of your attention at all due to your heavy workload, he simply shrugs and says:
"'ts fine. can't sleep in my own room anyway." hitoshi's lips slightly curve into a smirk. "plus, i like watching over you. you pout when you're focusedー did you know that? cutest shit ever."
you roll your eyes as you turn back to your laptop, frowning at the heaps of unfinished work left. "well, if you bother me, i'm throwing you out of my room, alright?"
"yes, ma'am." he obliges. "coffee service is an exception though, right? back rubs too... if that's not a bother."
you whip your head back at him with tearful puppy eyes of gratitude. it's taking everything in you not to mount your boyfriend right now and pepper his face with little kisses.
he snorts at your adorable expression.
"stop. don't look at me like that. i'm gonna want to snuggle with you, and you won't get any work done." he chuckles softly as you swivel your chair back to your desk. "let me know if you want anything else."
a few hours and two cups of coffee later, he's still there, watching as you hunch over your desk, nimble fingers typing incessantly on your laptop with the occasional cursing of familiar names under your breathー he's guessing you're carrying a whole group project by yourself again.
he glances at the time on his phone, and being the ridiculously observant boyfriend that he is, he knows the exact second you're about to say:
"okay!" you hoist yourself up, slamming your hands on your desk. it doesn't startle your poor boyfriend anymore at this point.
"power nap?" he guesses.
"just for 20 minutes."
"alright, c'mere."
you collapse into his open arms, melting into him as he instinctively starts rubbing circles on your back. he peeks at your already closed eyes. "hey, you set a timer yet?"
your eyes snap open, "oh right." you pull out your phone and clumsily make a few taps before you toss it away, not even bothering to turn it off. "'kay done. g'night."
hitoshi glances at the bright screen. "uh. sorry to break it to you, y/n, but i don't think typing typing '430' on your calculator's gonna wake you up."
"fuck." you jolt up and grab your phone again.
hitoshi watches as you make a second attempt to set an alarm, which seems to have magically disappeared from your phone.
"that's... that's the calendar, babe."
and then another attempt,
"you're dialing 430?"
"well, i can't find the damnー" you shove the phone to him and whine, "you do it!"
he snickers before pulling you closer, caging you in his long limbs and obligingly pulling the phone from your hands "alright, alright. i'll wake you up. you just take a nap right here, hm?" he gently pats your cheek twice before kissing your forehead. hitoshi has always had a habit of babying you when you're all sleepy and snug like this.
he doesn't actually let the alarm go off. you're obviously exhausted, burnt out, and a tad irritatedー the last thing you ever need is having your power nap cut short with that god-awful noise.
instead, you're woken up by your boyfriend rhythmically smoothing his palm down your arm, planting featherlight kisses across your sleeping face.
"y/n. babe, wake up." he gently lifts you up until you're sat up on the bed, your back laid flat against his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. he props his chin on your shoulder and coos, "sleepyhead. c'mon, you can get all snuggly and cute with me when you're done. right now, you gotta get up and get that gorgeous brain working again. you're not done yet, are you?"
he presses one last kiss on your cheek before you eventually (and reluctantly) rise from the bed, dragging your languid feet across the floor until you reach your desk and start working again almost instantly.
you hear the pads of his feet across the hardwood floor as he walks over to you, draping his heavy arms around you and brushing his thumb against your shoulder, "coffee?"
you give him a tired smile in response.
this cycle repeats two more timesー you crawling in his arms for another power nap, him waking you up in the sweetest, most gentle way possible, and you rising from the bed like a zombie, getting increasingly worn out until you finally stop typing and pass everything barely on time.
you slip into hitoshi's arms again and nuzzle your face against his chest, "'t's done." you mumble, your exhaustion draining out your energy to even enunciate your words.
"really? that's good then." he strokes the back of your head, pulling you closer by your waist. "you okay?"
you instantly start weeping. "no, i'm so tired. i'm so fucking tired. i'm dying. i can't do this anymore. that group project took up so much of my time so i couldn't write my own essay well. i just bullshitted my way for the last two paragraphs. it's awful."
"hey, you never write anything awful, y/n. it's physically impossible for the y/n to write a bad sentence." he continues petting your head as he consoles you.
"i justー" you mumble, your voice muffled by his hoodie as you press your face against his chest, "i could've done a lot better if i had more time."
hitoshi sighs, soothingly rubbing circles on your back. he wishes people didn't expect so much of you. never mind how intelligent and reliable you areー he's sick of people exhausting you like this. aren't you tired, even a little bit, of people constantly taking more than what you can give?
hitoshi's lips pressed on the top of your head as he ponders.
"hey." he calls.
"hm?"
"what if i... extend the deadline for that essay? you know, 'convince' your teacher to set a more reasonable one."
you raise your head to meet his eyes. "what?"
he clears his throat, avoiding your concerned gaze, "what if i brainwashed your teacherー"
"no, i get what you were saying, but i don't think that's a good idea, hitoshi." you frown.
"look, if you're not on board with it, i won't force it. i can't help you with these essays, can i? no one writes as good as you, so i'm just trying to help in any way i can."
"but hitoshi, that's notー" a yawn interrupts your sentence, brimming your eyes with tears. you easily surrender to sleep and snuggle back on his chest, "yeah, you know what? do that. fuck them."
your uncaring teachers be damned. count in your group mates that may as well be dead weights too. sleep and your sweet boyfriend felt less irksome to think about. you'll worry about everything later.
hitoshi snorts at your easy submission, hugging your waist even tighter as he whispers sweetly in your ear, his voice deep and tired, "i love you." he presses a kiss behind your ear, "if only i was half as smart and brilliant as you, i would've helped you with these thingsー you know that, right? if i could write essays as well as you do and my talents were on par with yours, i would've helped you a lot more."
he lowers his head to peek at your adorable, sleepy face before attacking your cheek and neck with smooches, "but you write such beautiful sentencesー how do you do that? what's your secret?" you giggle, both from the validation and his loud smooches.
silence settles over you as you catch your breath from that burst of laughter. he gently strokes the back of your head, feeling comfort himself at the steady rise and fall of your chest against his.
a sleepy mumble of "i love you." was all you could utter to your boyfriend before you start to drift offー you'll coddle him in the morning when you have the energy.
hitoshi smooths your hair back and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. "i love you too. i'm proud of you, okay? if you ever feel like no one acknowledges how hard you work everyday, just know that i'm here, and i see you every single timeー i've never missed an all-nighter, have i?" he snickers, "no matter how delirious and insane you get during these hours, i'm always there."
you chuckle softly and sigh, brushing your thumb softly against his arm.
"hitoshi?"
"yeah? what is it?"
you pause in hesitation, but you say it anyway. hitoshi would love the idea more than you already do.
"what if you brainwashed my group mates too?"
hitoshi smirks proudly. this is when he knows you've been spending way too much time with him.
"give me their names first thing in the morning, babe. i got you."
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special tag: this is for @escapenightmare who also recently carried a whole group project on her back gws <3
TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)
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dried-mushroom · 4 months
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Omg can you please write about Lee Russell being mean to you in front of Gamby as like a power display or something but then when y'all get home (y'all are like Secretly dating since you're just a teacher) he's all nice and romantic to apologize?
YIPPEE I found another lee Russell lover! don't judge please I'm Australian so I have little concept of American education. I hope you like it.
Warnings: Lil angsty and implied sex
Be mean to me
Lee Russell x reader (well Christine sucks so she's not in this story)
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Life was pretty peachy as a history teacher in North Jackson high school, you were stuck teaching from a range of boring topics to your either half asleep, barely listening or teacher pet students, except you were sleeping with the vice principal, Lee Russell. You couldn't resist that southern charm radiating off his tongue when he spoke those words on your first day as a teacher, in the parking lot.
"Mornin' Sweetheart, are you lost? The names Lee Russell, Vice principal of this very high school and you're way too fuckin' pretty to be a high school teacher."
After taking a good look at the lanky man who called himself the vice principal, you couldn't help yourself, and after promptly introducing you to your fellow teachers, he briskly walked you to the janitors closet where you both spent all morning. Obviously, you both knew this had to be kept a secret, boss and employee dating is a no-go, although that did not stop you both from being affectionate when no was watching, sharing a peck when you went to visit him at his office or the grasp of his hand on your thigh under the table at meetings or after work, where it was safe to be yourselves and you could lay together watching borderline cheesy romcom movies whilst Lee critiques his heart out.
You sighed contently as the bell for seventh period rang, the mingled voices of your 6th period ancient history class rushed out the door to their next useless class and you could finally relax and start lesson planning for the next 45 minutes. You let your hands run down your thighs, smoothing out your new dress (this but more teacher appropriate). You brought this specifically for Lee, you knew of his love for colours, hence his usually eccentric clothing choices, you knew he'd love the pattern on you. You couldn't help but smile giddily and walk out of the classroom, you knew you could easily finish the planning later and you'd rather spend the last of the school day with Lee.
You swiftly walked down the hall to administration, smiled sweetly at Swift, because you knew how rude Gamby was to her for no reason, and she didn't deserve that, like Gamby seriously needs a reality check in your opinion.
"Afternoon Miss Swift, I hope you're doing alright and Gamby isn't giving you a hard time, I was hoping to see Mr. Russell, I had to discuss long service leave with him."
"Oh, thank you miss l/n, vice principal Gamby is albeit rude, but I think he's getting better, and of course let me get the door for you."
You knew she wasn't stupid, and you assumed she knew about you and Lee secretly dating, but it was better to come up with an excuse and be safe rather than sorry. Smith quickly opened to door and shut it behind you.
"Well, hello there honey, I was expecting you- and what's this? isn't this a pretty thing?"
He shot up from his desk chair and sauntered over to where you stood, he placed his hands on your waist and whispered in your ear.
"I can't wait to rip that off you gir-"
Suddenly the door swung open, and Lee jumped away from you, 'of course Neal Gamby, you had to come fuck everything up." you thought to yourself, now awkwardly fiddling with the hem of your dress.
"Russell. We need to talk. Why the hell are you here Miss. l/n? I thought Wednesday 7th period was your planning lesson."
Before you could reply to Gamby, Lee interjected,
"Exactly, Scram Miss l/n, I don't need nor want you here, I have better shit to do, plus what the fuck are you wearing? you look like a fuckin mess, pick a goddamn colour."
Your heart sank, an uncomfortable tightness sat in your chest as your face flushed in embarrassment. You knew Lee being a dick to you was only a ruse to throw off other teachers and admin but, fuck it hurt, it hurt so much to have him speak to you in that way. You nodded your head and headed to the door,
"Open or closed Mr. Russell?"
Gamby responded for him, responding in a curt 'Closed.' leaving you to silently shut the door behind you. You walked out of the administration office before your eyes welled with tears, but you waited until you reached your classroom until you broke, sobbing quietly at your desk. You just wished you and Lee could act like a couple instead of the cold shoulder act he'd be giving you. With the mixed signals and nausea swirling through your brain, you grabbed your left-over paperwork and bag before leaving. Usually, you and Lee would leave at the same time, but you couldn't bear to see him at the moment, all your hard work, making yourself pretty for him and resulting in him publicly humiliating you was just too much.
The short drive home eased you a little but when you had to walk up those steps of your shared home, it just brought back that sickly tension. You unlocked the door and set your handbag down (another reminder of Lee since it was an anniversary gift). You kicked off your heels and headed upstairs to your shared bedroom. You didn't bother to change and slumped into bed, fresh tears coming to your eyes, you didn't care whether you were quiet or not, sobbing yourself till you couldn't keep your eyes open.
Lee's POV:
He regretted the words as soon as they came from his mouth. He saw the hurt on your face, and he felt his stomach twist into a tight knot. He hated being a dick to you, hated it so much he hated himself for doing it. He realised he went way too far this time with you, and he really didn't want to lose you and couldn't help but fidget with his hands whilst blatantly ignoring whatever bullshit Gamby was bitching about.
"Sorry Gamby but I gotta run, not like you'd know what that is though. We'll talk about Brown tomorrow, now get the fuck outta my office."
Neal sighed, muttered some regurgitated insult but ultimately left. Lee rushed to grab his belongings and ran out the door, Smith tried to ask where he was off to in a rush,
"Sir, you can't just leave! where are you even going???"
When he pulled into the driveway, 'Thank God' he thought as he saw your car parked there. He got out, left all his belongings in the car, not a care. You were more important; you were the most important thing in his life. He opened the door and called;
"Shut the fuck up Smith, I can leave whenever the fuck I want and its none of your business where I am going."
Smith squeaked a reply, but Lee was already down the hall, he went to your classroom and groaned when he noticed a lack of you and your belongings. He ran to the parking lot, got into his car as soon as he didn't saw your car, without a doubt it was always parked next to his. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white, he shakily exhaled, he knew he had fucked up and was hoping you were at home.
"Y/n baby, where are you? I'm so sorry about what I said."
The silence was nerve-racking, so after checking all the other rooms for you, he headed to the bedroom to check. There you were, peaceful and asleep, he couldn't have been happier. He walked across the room to the side to the bed you were facing, and sat gently on the bed, softly stroking your hair.
Your POV:
You slowly awoke out of a dreamless slumber to someone touching you. You flinched when you realised it was Lee, and you remembered everything that happened today. He felt your reaction and immediately pulled his hand away. He saw the tear streaks on your face and sighed,
"Y/n I am so fuckin' sorry; I should have never had said those hurtful things to you, you didn't deserve that, God, I don't deserve you. I didn't even mean them, I need you so much, and you do so much for me, and I take that shit for granted, please forgive me y/n, I love you."
You saw the raw emotion across his face and sat up, you could see the tears in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wipe the one away falling down his cheek with your thumb. You smiled softly and leaned into him,
"I forgive you Lee, and I love you so much. I don't think you meant it but what you said really fucking hurt, and this hiding our relationship is really hurting us, so please can we finally go public and not have to worry and hide anymore?"
"Thank you so much and fuck it! who gives a shit if you and I are together? whoever doesn't like it can suck my dick, I can't lose you honey."
You smiled, finally knowing you'd and Lee would finally be able to be yourselves without having hide and sneak around.
"You aren't losing me Lee; I wouldn't do that to you. Now kiss me, you idiot."
He didn't hesitate a second before crashing his lips into yours, your hands finding his neck before climbing into his lap. His hands sneaked around your waist bringing you even closer, you could feel his erection under you, and you couldn't help moaning into his mouth. He broke the kiss to whisper,
"Well now how about I make do of my promise from earlier?"
The End
I hope this was good! please leave comments or asks if you enjoyed :)
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whore-era · 2 years
Text
delinquent!ellie williams headcanons 18+
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has the MEANEST MUG FACE at everyone but her close loved ones, especially you. she shows you the softest side to her bc you naturally just draw it out. ellie will literally have the grouchiest face, but once she sees you, it will be all soft heart eyes around you and you only! everyone else though? fuck them. they will get a bitch face and a middle finger thrown their way!
is guilty for always manspreading, but it's okay because it kinda stirs something inside you anyways. you guys will literally be anywhere, and she'll sit with her legs spread with her hands behind her head and you'd find yourself walking over and plopping yourself on her lap.
is extremely territorial and possessive of her girl, but not in a way where she's controlling you by any means. ellie is aware of how gorgeous and sexy her girl is, and while she has no problem with others looking, she draws the line at people approaching you. you would be at a party, talking with your friends, occasionally looking across the room at her. while giving each other loving glances, some guy approaches probably saying "hey girl, you lookin' finnneeee as hell tonight, you wanna get outta here?" and she'll already be behind him, fists balled up and hissing, "get the fuck away from my girlfriend."
would absolutely beat someone's ass for you. if someone is disrespectful to you or looks at you the wrong way or god forbid, lay their hands on you, it's automatically on sight for her. "but you should'a seen the other guy, babe. he's got it worse," she'll say, as you're sat on the sink with her in between your legs, tending to her small cuts and bruises. "what'd i tell you, els? you can't keep getting into these stupid fights because one guy says something dumb about me." "yea, baby, i know. i just hate when people say shit about you," she coos, "you're absolutely fucking amazing, and everyone should know that by now." you both end up kissing in the bathroom and it always ends up with you being bent over the sink taking her strap-
you would CONSTANTLY be on her ass about everything. since she does have a short temper, you always find yourself having to check her and and lecture her a bit, and she lowkey kinda loves it? ellie thinks you're hot as hell taking a little bit of control and telling her what to do, and every time you do have to lecture her, she'll look at you with desire in her eyes and respond with "yes, ma'am", "alright, baby, whatever you say", "mhm yes, baby m'listening" even though she quite literally is hyper-focused on how sexy as fuck you look lecturing her rn.
always putting her hands on you! whether it's rubbing your ass when she's cuddling you, holding your hand when you're out and about, or putting her hands on your hips and waist when she wants to be close to you. 
showing how she feels about you in actions rather than words. ellie has a tough time expressing how she feels for you directly in words, and sometimes her message that she’s trying to send doesn’t always sound…right. so she’ll do little acts of services for you like picking up lunch for you on days when you’re extremely swamped with work and assignments, organizing your books and backpack when you fall asleep on your desk from studying, picking up your favorite snacks when you need a lil cheering up, and helping you take off your clothes when you’re extra exhausted from the day. 
always assuring you’re safe. ellie will always make sure you never have to travel alone and tries to walk you to and from class, but if she’s busy she’ll bug dina to do it. she’ll always ask where you are and who you’re with just to make sure you’re safe and alright, periodically checking in with you with texts (even tho it can be a lil bit annoying but u never say anything bc u know she’s just worried). baby u ok taking the bus alone? yes els i’m fine babe. u sure? i can come get u rn. no my love u don’t need to do that. swear. yk what babe let me ask dina if she can- ellieeee….
a/n this one was rly short my apologies ;P
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tired-biscuit · 1 year
Note
I know you haven't written a lot for Spiderverse at all, but I have to say I love your portrayal of Miguel! And your little drabble about being Kiba's service-sub housewife got me thinking, do you think Miguel would like a service-sub housewife, too? I know you're mostly a Naruto blog but I can't help finding myself loving the few Miguel pieces you've done, your writing is incredible 💜
18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: free use, somnophilia, cockwarming. established relationship.
↳ thanks a bunch, your message was so sweet! definitely made me smile really big. here’s some husband miguel rocking both your world and your pussy.
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i think he would, though you’d definitely have to be the one to suggest it first.
while i do see miguel as a naturally dominant sort of man who loves staying in control in just about every aspect, he also comes across as very reserved and is thus rarely willing to let himself completely loose; even in bed. so it’d take some time for him to get used to the fact that you’d be literally offering yourself to him and would be giving him a free pass whenever he’d as much as think of desiring it.
he just seem to be very respectful towards the people he admires and loves, you know? he thinks that fucking you hard and quick in random places just because his blood runs hot all of a sudden is beneath what you deserve.
he’s gloomy and dark, and you’re pure light in his eyes because his heart has switched places with his brain ever since he’s fallen in love and has placed that ring on your finger. he doesn’t want to blemish all your purity and goodness, even if that wouldn’t be the case at all.
so even if you’d initiate it first and would get him going with the help of some lovey-dovey looks, the fluttering of your eyelashes, and some strokes to his broad chest and shoulders, he’d second guess the entire thing and would constantly be making sure if it really is all right like you say it is.
you’d literally have to be throwing yourself at him, telling him to just use you already, for him to actually do something. it’d go slow, but eventually he’d ease himself into the idea.
you can be very tempting when you want to be, and at the end of the day, he is nothing but a man.
the first time it happens, he’s working late for the fourth day in a row and is feeling terribly lonely and frustrated because of it. he misses you in more ways than one and you’re always asleep when he comes home, so he warily makes the decision to fuck you in his lab one night when you swing by to bring him dinner — knowing him, he hasn’t eaten since he left the house this morning — and bends you over at the middle on the first flat surface he sees.
the sex is cautious and he’s stiff as a board during the entirety of it; you can literally tell that he’s way too deep in his head about it and is calculating every single movement. he watches you like a hawk from the moment his big, calloused hands slip underneath your light sundress and hike it up to your waist.
he’s practically waiting to hear you say stop — even when he carefully pushes your panties to the side and sinks balls deep into your cunt with a little help of some spit and a couple of strokes to your clit. even as lewd, wet sounds resonate throughout the room, then, and mix with your panting and his grunts. he waits.
but you never say the word.
that’s the whole point of it, after all.
instead, your palms slam flat against the desk he’s got you bending over at. your toes wiggle in your shoes as you find better footing when he really starts to get into it and turns rough as a result. your hips press closer to his own and your back arches ever so slightly, allowing you to take his fat cock even deeper. you ready yourself; ready yourself to please your husband like the good little wife that you are.
after that night, miguel allows himself to take a little more from you each time.
he still comes home late on most days, but he uses the chance to catch up by gently and almost hesitantly nudging your tight hole with his cock while you’re still asleep; until your pussy is literally drooling and you’re waking up in your bed feeling all hot and sweaty because of how tight, borderline suffocating his embrace has become, and how intense the stretch that you feel between your legs is getting.
sometimes he comes to see you after a successful mission and fucks you against the wall of the first secluded spot he can find. he’s still covered in grime and sweat, there’s piping hot adrenaline still coursing his veins, and his hair is as wild as the look in his dark eyes — now where the hell has his mask gone? — but he doesn’t care about any of that.
because goddamn, your legs are wrapped around his waist and you’re doing that cute ‘o’ face that he likes oh, so fucking much as you struggle to breathe properly, and your pussy is just so tight whenever he bullies his way inside of you so unexpectedly like this. he can literally feel it squeezing around him, trying to milk him dry of very last drop of cum he’s able to produce.
other times, usually when he takes it a bit easy work-wise, he just rests at home by making you cockwarm him. he’s watching TV — something exceptionally boring, probably — or is looking something up on the computer, and you’re just sitting on his lap, whining about how his cock has been outright kissing your cervix from the second he saw you passing by dressed in nothing else but his t-shirt.
he even nips at your neck whenever you try to move, deadly fangs sliding across the tender skin. it just makes you even more wet; it’s just so good.
so yeah, i do think that he’d like the idea of free use and would even grow fond of it the more you’d both indulge it. it’d be some sort of stress relief in a way. also, he would never, never belittle you or shame you for it. you’re the perfect wife.
when he loves, he just truly loves, you know? it’s deep and unshakeable. every time he ‘uses’ you, he makes sure to make up for it afterwards. he’s just that kind of guy, even if he may not look like it at first glance.
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harlotofupdog · 6 days
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This was meant to be a groveling apology post but it turned into a rage meta post.
I have so many fics that I want to read or finish reading from writers whose work I truly adore, and so much art that I want to stare at and squeal about, and I just haven't got to it. There are fics that I am so in love with and I just… I can't open AO3 until I can just sit, y'know?
I know that literally no-one is counting on me for this stuff because I am a tiny wonker, but I feel perpetually awful about it nonetheless. I also have a bunch of fic stuff (writing and beta) that I never get to, and I'm now at the point where I'm so overwhelmed by all the things I need to do that I'm paralysed by procrastination. There's probably a few topsy-turvy chonkadonks of recent news that haven't helped, but the main thing is…
FUCKING HOTEL ROOMS.
I spend so much time in hotel rooms. I used to love hotel rooms. It felt like a little treat every time I stayed in a nice one. Bright white sheets, little sachets of tea and shitty instant coffee, minibars, dressing gowns, inconvenient power outlets, unflattering mirrors - I loved it all. But now I fucking dread them. They are my ultimate (bad) liminal spaces - just fancy transit points between the airport or the train station or the closest fucking McDonald's where I can eat a zillion nuggets until I feel better.
I've tried to be productive in hotel rooms, I really have. I bring my laptop, I bring my sketchpad. Sometimes I have a couple of free hours in the evening, and god, why don't I use them? Instead, I sit and think and scroll while I drink all the shitty tea and shitty coffee and sometimes an entire bottle of red or whatever tiny booze they have in the minibar.
It occurs to me, after 6000 years of fucking hotel rooms, that they are… Heaven. They are, right? Crisp, light, bright, stifling. There's the concierge in their nice suit, the fancy faux marble foyer, elevators that sneak up from behind and then DING as if you're the arsehole for facing the other way, mirrors fucking EVERYWHERE jump-scaring you with your own face, the end of the toilet paper folded into a little triangle... (whose bum needs that? A tiny triangle before the rest of the paper? No-one's bum needs that!)
And Heaven is always watching, isn't it?
The binful of teabags, the crumpled up packets of crisps-for-dinner, the empty bottle of wine - they will all be SEEN, along with the sanitary bag and the snotty tissues and the laddered stockings that I've wrenched off in a rage because now I have to go buy more. (WHY DID HOTELS GET RID OF BIN BAGS?)
We haven't even made it to the mortifying ordeal of ordering room service as a solo business traveler. I order the club sandwich, because that is the first thing you should order in a hotel, always - this is a rule. I eat it, it's fine. Club sandwiches have probably hauled me back from the edge of madness/chicken nuggets at least four times now. The next night, though, I don't want a club sandwich. I want something else.
A pizza.
There is no option to order a half pizza, and if I order a whole pizza, I will eat the whole pizza. So I order a whole pizza, obviously. I eat the pizza, because of course I do - it's not great, but it's kinda okay and it's something to do because I can't do any of the other things like live or breathe or exist in regular human form.
But when the pizza is gone, I look at the empty tray sitting on the slimy glass-topped desk and the realisation hits: they will know I know they know that I sat on my pristine bed, shoving melted cheese and prosciutto into my mouth, probably in full view of some late night meeting in the next building over, while staring at a wall and fervently wishing I were elsewhere.
There is probably sauce on the sheets and a bit of rocket on the floor that I can't find, and the TV remote is greasy af. It's basically a murder scene and I will feel guilty for the next millennia and a bit.
In conclusion...
Heaven is a panopticon and so is the Hilton. But Azi showed up for it, and so will I. Hopefully we can all make it back to the comfy, dusty book-filled spaces for good one day.
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atarathegreat · 2 months
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Gentle Moments John Price
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It had been rough. Too rough. Finding out Hadir stole the gas, Farah's forces being put on the list, and then the kid at the embassy... Everything was crashing down on John all at once. All the frustration, all the rage, all the helplessness and issues that were left for him to clean up.
John threw his chair across his office, slamming it into the bookshelf and scattering books across the floor.
"Fuck me." John ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for the large sigh that built in his chest. It was troublesome how his anger got the best of him. You had always scolded him lightly about how easily his fuse burnt out, often teasing him to get into a management class. He wouldn't ever do it, but he let you dream. This time his outburst was late in the night, not startling you from chores or reading, but startling you awake just on the other side of the wall.
"John!" The doors to his office burst open with you tying your robe together. John knew that underneath was your silk nightdress, barely covering those legs he loved so much. He hated the worry etched on your face, the dark circles under your eyes, "I'm alright, luv. Just... overwhelmed."
There wasn't anyone he needed to be with you. The captain, the soldier, Special Services. Here, at home, with you, John could just be John Price, a husband and human.
"Oh, my baby." You cooed. It was irritating, but it was your default to baby and comfort. John appreciated your enthusiasm. Despite his ire at your tone, he fell to his knees and hugged into your torso. It's an escape, in a way, for him to press his nose against the stupid fluffy robe you insist on wearing and your dumb stomach that he can't seem to bring himself to fill. A child? In this world? His grip on your robe only tightened as he vented every last frustration.
Emotions were a heavy thing, and while you had no idea what John had seen or been through, you assumed the worst. You only ever wanted the best for your husband, wanted him relaxed and be in his best mind. Sometimes his job made it seem like a fantasy to have mental stability. "How about you go shower and I'll get this mess cleaned up?" You lightly scratched your fingers up the back of his head, gentle scratches that would always ground him to the present.
All of your favorite books had hit the floor in his anger. It had taken you months of his first deployment of the relationship to get his home office set up. You wanted to surprise him when he came home, prove that it wasn't a bad idea to move you in with him. A small pang of sadness struck your chest as you realized there wasn't anything more you could do to help him. You could take care of the house, coddle him, be there and help clean up the messes, even make home stress free. But you could never take away the wars he saw, the trauma he held in.
You needed to face that you couldn't fix everything.
The wheels of his chair scrapped as you rolled it back behind his desk, thinking of anything else you could do to help. Again you came up empty handed.
"Luv, you're still in here?" John smiled from the door, "C'mere. I think I need a night of holding you."
Jesus, that fluffy robe drove him up a wall. "Get this off." His low laugh was enough to ease your guilt over what you couldn't do, "I hate this damn thing." He really did. It kept John from seeing those beautiful legs, the way your waist curved, and how sexy you looked in those thin night gowns, it gave him joy to toss the damn thing across his office. "C'mon," John grunted, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder, "I need a night of you in my lap."
Or, what you knew he meant, "I need you close so I can know that I'm not crazy and you're still here."
It wasn't any easy job that John worked, but he did it for all the right reasons. "I'll protect you, luv, forever." He always whispered. In exchange for his never-ending protection, you could spend as long as he needed in his lap, letting him listen to your heartbeat and stroke all over your legs as much as he wanted. Even if your leg went numb from his touch.
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