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fanfictionismyaddiction · 2 months ago

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Close call

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: lando Norris x reader

Summary: After a heated argument that leads Y/n to storm out into the rain, a near-death accident brings Lando and Y/n back together

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The day had started off fine—normal, even. You had both been in good spirits after Lando’s last race weekend. He had been on the podium, and the celebrations had been nothing short of electric. But then, like a storm brewing on the horizon, small tensions began to rise between you two. It was always something—little things that built up over time. The missed texts, the rescheduled plans, the constant feeling that his attention was always somewhere else. Today, it had finally come to a head.

“I’m not asking you to choose between me and your career,” you yelled, your voice shaking, eyes burning with unshed tears. “But I need to know where I stand, Lando. It’s like I’m just an afterthought to you!”

Lando stood on the opposite side of the room, hands clenched into fists by his sides. His jaw was tight, anger simmering in his eyes. “That’s not fair! You know how much I care about you. But I can’t just drop everything every time you feel neglected. This is my job. My life.”

“And what am I, then?” you shot back, stepping forward. “Just something on the side when it’s convenient for you? I sit here, waiting—always waiting—while you go off and live your dream. What about my life, Lando?”

His face twisted with frustration, and he ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “You knew what this was when we got together! You knew racing would come first, that my schedule is insane. What do you expect me to do? Quit?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “I expect you to make time for me! To show me that I’m important, that I matter! But you don’t, Lando. It’s like I’m just… background noise.”

Lando’s eyes flashed with anger, his voice rising. “That’s bullshit! You know that’s not true. I’ve been trying, but you keep pushing and pushing, like nothing I do is ever enough for you!”

“Because it’s not!” you screamed, tears spilling over now. “I’m tired of feeling like I have to fight for a place in your life. You’re never here, and when you are, you’re not really present.”

He stopped pacing, his face hardening as he glared at you. “Maybe if you actually supported me instead of complaining all the time, things wouldn’t be so hard.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You took a step back, your breath catching in your throat. “You think I don’t support you?”

Silence.

“I’m at every race, every event, doing everything I can to cheer you on. I rearrange my entire life around your schedule, and you still have the nerve to say I don’t support you?”

Lando’s face softened for a brief moment, but the anger flared again. “I didn’t mean it like that. But it’s exhausting, alright? Trying to balance everything when it feels like you’re constantly on my case.”

You blinked at him, tears falling freely now. “On your case? You think I enjoy feeling this way? I’m exhausted too, Lando. I’m exhausted from waiting for you to show up.”

His expression twisted, and for a moment, he seemed to want to respond, but something snapped in you before he could speak. You turned on your heel, storming out of the living room and heading towards the door, grabbing your jacket as you went.

“I can’t do this right now,” you muttered, pulling the door open.

“Where are you going?” Lando demanded, his voice sharp behind you.

“I don’t know. Anywhere but here.”

Just as you stepped outside, the sky that had been so clear all day suddenly let loose. Rain poured down in thick sheets, soaking you within seconds. You didn’t care. You needed to get away, clear your head, breathe something other than the heavy air of your apartment. You began walking, not even knowing where you were going. You were too hurt, too angry, and too tired to think clearly.

Behind you, Lando hesitated at the door. He hated seeing you like this, but his pride kept him frozen. You didn’t wait for him to follow, assuming he wouldn’t.

The rain pelted harder as you walked further, your clothes drenched, your hair sticking to your face. You kept going, lost in your thoughts, but as you stepped off the curb to cross the street, everything changed in an instant.

The loud honk of a car horn blared, headlights flashing in your peripheral vision. You turned just in time to see the vehicle barreling toward you, too fast to stop. A surge of panic shot through you, freezing your legs in place.

Suddenly, something slammed into you from the side, sending you tumbling to the ground. The impact knocked the breath out of your lungs, and your body hit the pavement hard. The world spun as you lay there, rain pouring down on you, gasping for air. You realized someone had pushed you out of the way—Lando.

He had run after you, faster than you realized, and tackled you just in time to get you out of the path of the car. The vehicle screeched to a halt mere inches from where you had stood, its tires skidding on the slick pavement.

“Y/N!” Lando’s voice was panicked, hands shaking as he pulled you up, eyes scanning you for any injuries. “Are you okay? Did it hit you? God, please tell me you’re okay.”

You coughed, trying to catch your breath, but your chest ached from where you had hit the ground. “I’m… I’m okay,” you whispered, wincing as you sat up.

He knelt beside you, his wet hair plastered to his forehead, eyes wide with fear and guilt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I shouldn’t have let you walk out. I should’ve—God, if I hadn’t run after you—” His voice broke, and you saw the terror in his eyes.

You reached up, placing a shaky hand on his cheek. “Lando… I’m fine. You saved me.”

He shook his head, his throat tight with emotion. “I was such an idiot. I should’ve listened. I should’ve been there for you.” His voice was low, filled with regret. “You’re right. You’ve been there for me through everything, and I’ve taken it for granted. I’m sorry.”

The rain continued to pour, soaking both of you, but in that moment, none of it mattered. You let out a shaky breath, wiping the wet strands of hair from his face. “I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I just felt so… lost. But I know you’re trying. I see it, and I’m sorry for making it seem like it’s not enough.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he was afraid to let go. “I love you,” he whispered against your hair. “I’ll make this right. I promise.”

You held onto him just as tightly, both of you soaked to the bone but no longer feeling the cold. The fight, the anger, the hurt—it all seemed so small compared to what had just happened. You almost lost each other in more ways than one.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, and this time, it felt like a promise.

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luffington · 2 months ago

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hihi, how are u⁉️ may i request jealous crocodile and/or doflamingo smut? i am OBSESSED w ur fur & feathers story, you’re an amazing writer!! thank you sm 🙏🫶💓‼️

➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.6k

➤ warnings: dom!crocodile, possessive behavior, spanking, degradation, praise, belly bulge, overstimulation, mentioned breeding kink, established relationship, fem reader

aww i'm glad you like it! i decided to give crocodile some love since i already have a few fics about doffy :3 i had really bad horny brainrot writing this he drives me insane

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Deciding not to join Baroque Works was your own choice, but you shouldn’t be suffering for it.

The crime syndicate’s leader and you had been in a relationship for quite a while. You’d long since accepted his dedication to his job and his workaholic tendencies – a serious job required someone just as serious. But recently, it had gotten to be too much.

He spent sixteen hours a day holed up in his office, pouring over documents and answering calls and meeting with Miss All Sunday. Grunted quiet greetings when he came home at night, climbing into bed beside you then falling asleep immediately. He’d barely said three words to you all week.

You were jealous of the fucking Transponder Snail for how much attention it got. It was time to take matters into your own hands.

So you put on your sluttiest dress, a nice pair of heels, and flashy diamond earrings, then wandered around the massive Rain Dinners casino looking for easy prey. You settled on a drunk average-looking man with a winning streak at roulette. He openly ogled your body as you approached, and smirked lecherously when you asked if the empty seat on his left was taken.

The man clearly wasn’t a local. He didn’t recognize you, even though you weren’t shy about hanging onto Crocodile’s arm in public. And he was much too stupid to notice the casino staff’s constant nervous glances. While laughing and holding your drink, you brushed a flirty hand over his shoulder and pressed your body against him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Crocodile emerge from the staff-only hallway to survey the room. Everything about him commanded attention – his abnormal height, his expensive clothes, his intimidating presence. In a flash, he materialized behind you. Half of his body was still reforming from a whirling sandstorm. Menacing golden eyes shone down at you, but his expression was eerily blank.

The entire casino fell silent. Everyone’s focus was on you.

Crocodile exhaled a pungent cloud of cigar smoke. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Bullshit. He’d hardly looked at you at all for nearly two weeks. Ignoring the shivers running down your spine, you decided to continue taunting him.

“I’m watching my good friend here play roulette! He’s very lucky, he might take all your money home with him.” You didn’t even remember the man’s name, but you lied with a cheeky grin and firmly patted his thigh twice.

Much too friendly for Crocodile’s liking.

Your lover’s eyes narrowed in on the empty martini glass in front of you. “How many of those have you had?”

“I dunno, three? Four?” You turned to the stranger with a saccharine smile. “Were you keeping count?”

The man was frozen in place, terrified into silence at the sight of the eight foot tall Warlord towering above him. His all-consuming fear made him seem like a small animal staring into a Bananawani’s open jaws.

“You’re drunk. You should sit down.” Crocodile’s tone was steady but dangerous. Always aware of his public image, his carefully chosen words made him seem like the perfect gentleman.

“But I am sit–“

A murderous glare cut you off mid-sentence. You realized you’d taken your bratty act as far as it could go – any more might be threatening to your well-being. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you rose from your seat and automatically moved to his side. Tucked yourself into the folds of his coat, choosing to look down at your heels rather than his face.

“Make yourself comfortable in my office, darling.” The Warlord patted your shoulder, causing you to flinch. His voice dropped an octave as he growled, “I’d like to speak to this lucky gentleman in private.”

Crocodile’s pristine office was unnervingly quiet. You took a seat on the plush couch facing his desk, nervously bouncing your legs and trying to calm your racing heartbeat. With the lights off, the room was only illuminated by the water surrounding it. Dark shadows of swimming Bananawani regularly moved across the walls. Silly little prey, willingly walking into their nest.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind you. Heavy footsteps slowly approached but you didn’t dare turn around. Rich cologne flooded your nostrils and his golden hook flashed in your peripheral vision.

Your lover stayed quiet, patiently biding his time until the silence finally got to you. Timidly, you asked, “What happened to that man?”

“What man?” Your lover cocked his head to the side, feigning ignorance. After a moment, a sadistic chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oh, you mean the mummy in the back room. Let’s say he mysteriously disappeared.”

You whipped your head around with wide eyes. “You killed him for me?”

Oddly, you didn’t feel bad about it – that man was a creep. Getting rid of him was probably a blessing for the women of Alabasta.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, dear.” He sounded sincere, but then leaned down and fiercely whispered, “Except play this stupid game of yours. I like showing you off, not sharing you.”

Soft breath tickled your cheek and the fur lining of his coat brushed against your skin. You felt a fire ignite in your core – he was irresistibly sexy when he became possessive (well, more possessive than usual).

“Have I done something to upset you?” Crocodile kissed and licked down the column of your neck. “Or were you taunting me for fun?”

“Y-You’ve been so busy lately, I was–” The word ‘lonely’ died on your lips when he sunk his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Oh, my poor dear. Are you feeling neglected?” He cooed when you shyly nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to the bite mark. “I’m very sorry. Work’s been out of control recently, but everything will settle down soon. You have my attention now.”

The tip of his hook slid under your dress’s thin shoulder strap, then cleanly tore through it. He repeated the action on the other side until the torn fabric slipped down to reveal your bare breasts.

“Not even wearing a bra?” Your lover clicked his tongue, roughly cupping and caressing your right boob then smacking the soft flesh. “If that man looked down your dress, then his death sentence was too lenient. I should’ve tortured him.”

“You’re so scary,” you giggled, letting your head fall back against his sturdy chest with a content sigh. Grainy fingers traced your areola then rubbed over your hardened nipples. Thankfully, you knew you’d never experience the true extent of his wrath – he adored you.

Without warning, he wrapped his cold hook around your throat. The proximity of its sharp edge to such a dangerous area made your hair stand on end.

“Bend over my desk,” he commanded, gently nipping your ear. “Darling.”

You stumbled over to the enormous desk, legs shaking from anticipation and arousal. Bracing your arms on the polished wood, you arched your back and presented your ass to him. The Warlord took a moment to admire the view, amused by your visible impatience.

“I bought you these,” Crocodile drawled, tracing the waistband of your silky panties with the curved back of his hook. You never saw their price tag, but they felt expensive. He poked your earlobe. “I bought you those earrings, too. They cost more berry than that pathetic man could ever make. Everything about you belongs to me – seems like I have to remind you.”

A large hand came down on your ass hard, jiggling the soft flesh and making you cry out in delight. The collection of rings on his fingers added a delicious extra sting. Three more spanks followed rapidly in the same spot, then four on the other cheek until every part of your ass ached.

Crocodile snickered when you rubbed your thighs together like an animal in heat. A wet spot had already dampened your panties. “Silly little slut. If you wanted to be spanked, you should’ve just asked. No need for all the theatrics.”

“Didn’t have a chance to since you were talking to that Snail all fucking day.” Your petulant mumble quickly turned into a yelp when his hand brutally struck the crease of your thighs. Making sure you’d feel the sting every time you sat down. He grabbed the roots of your hair and yanked your head back.

“Watch your tone,” Crocodile growled. The Warlord released you, catching you before your limp body hit the desk and easily flipped you onto your back. A wicked smirk almost as wide as his scar spread across his face. He hungrily observed your body like a predator about to pounce.

He pulled down your panties with an unnerving carefulness – he didn’t want to damage his property, after all. Then he roughly spanked your bare pussy. Your surprised cry of pain echoed throughout the empty room. Satisfied with your reaction, he did it again and again until your folds turned puffy.

Crocodile spread your cunt using the back of his hook so he could land a direct hit on your sensitive clit. The impact on your bundle of nerves sent electric shocks throughout your body, your back arching painfully off the table. Your lover chuckled and swiped two fingers through your drenched folds.

“Who else can make you this wet?” Crocodile webbed your juices between his fingers before bringing them to your lips. Obediently opening your mouth, you suckled and swirled your tongue around them. Paying extra attention to his rings, making sure the precious jewels shined with your spit. Though it was a rhetorical question, he pulled his fingers out to hear your response.

“No one.” You answered honestly, your eyes dilated with lust and chest heaving. “Just you.”

“You’re damn right.” Crocodile unlatched his belt, letting his trousers hit the floor with a metallic clang. His enormous dick smacked against his pelvis, rock hard and leaking pearly precum. You unconsciously licked your lips at the sight. “Can’t let another cock can satisfy you, either. I need to ruin you for anyone else.”

Demanding you to look directly at him, he lined up his tip with your hole and thrust his hips forward. Slowly at first – his massive cock often met resistance in your tiny cunt – but after the first few inches, he slammed the entire length inside. Knocking all the air out of your lungs, your head lolling back on the desk. Crocodile stayed like that, appreciating the pretty bulge in your belly.

“Crocodile, please…”

“My name sounds perfect on your lips.” That predatory gaze was back, the need to possess you overwhelming his thoughts. Your lover pulled back until only the tip remained in your dripping pussy, then harshly rammed his dick in all the way.

Quickly setting a rough pace, Crocodile palmed at your tits with rough hands then leaned into the crook of your neck, whispering a dizzying mix of praise and degrading phrases. All of your coherent thoughts vanished from your brain.

You clutched onto his coat to ground yourself, to not get lost in the sea of pleasure washing over you. His cock was too fucking big. Too fucking good. It bullied its way inside your wet walls, permanently reshaping them to the perfect fit as he called you his pretty little cocksleeve.

Over a week’s worth of pent-up sexual urges were quickly coming to a head. Crocodile knew your body so well that he immediately recognized the signs of your impending orgasm. He reached his hand between your bodies to rub circles on your clit, pinching and pulling the sensitive nub for good measure.

“H-Holy fuck, ahhh, shit, I’m gonna…”

The Warlord smirked cruelly and paused his movements with his cock halfway inside you. “Apologize for being a brat. For even looking at that worthless man.”

If you had a stronger resolve, you could’ve kept this game going even longer. Asked him to apologize for ignoring you. Maybe even gotten a few more spanks out of it. But you needed to cum, and you desperately needed his giant cock to move.

“I’m sorry,” you panted desperately. “I won’t be bratty anymore, I promise. You’re the only man I’ll ever want. I’ll do anything, just – please, please, let me cum.”

“Very good girl.” Crocodile rewarded you by sensually rolling his hips to stir your insides around. Snickering, he admitted, “Although, I do enjoy when you act up every once in a while. You’re especially sexy when you submit to me.”

Your lover resumed fucking you hard enough to make the desk creak. Legs shaking with every thrust, your eyes were unfocused and the only thought in your head was how full you felt. Looking down, you dreamily watched the bump in your stomach move up and down as his dick rearranged your guts.

“Scream my name loud enough for the entire casino to hear when you cum. Let them know who owns you.”

Just one scream wasn’t enough for you – you chanted his name like a prayer as your orgasm hit you in full force. Juices gushed around Crocodile’s cock and dripped down his balls. He lazily fondled your clit to help you through it, only pulling away once the aftershocks had subsided. You lay limply on the desk, face flushed and chest heaving.

Belatedly, you realized that Crocodile hadn’t budged. A concerning sign.

“You… you didn’t cum?”

“This soon? Of course not. I didn’t commit murder for one measly orgasm,” he chuckled. “Evidently, I have a lot of lost time to make up for. Your cunt better be prepared.”

“W-wait, give me a minute –”

“No, dear, you were right. I spent too much time ignoring you. You deserve all my love.” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that knocked his mushroom tip against your cervix. “And affection.” Another thrust. “And every inch of my cock.”

Filthy squelching sounds and your lover’s balls slapping against your ass accompanied your overwhelmed scream. Tears pricked at your eyes as he increased his pace, your brain becoming as mushy as your cunt.

“Such a perfect pussy. Only a real man like me can treat it properly.” Crocodile murmured smugly. Leaning down to press his body flush against yours, his muscular pecs squished against your tits. His normally slicked-back hair was coming undone, strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. Dizzying pleasure washed over you when his fingers found your clit again.

Crocodile felt his balls tighten, but held himself back from the edge by slowing down to a relaxed grind, focusing all of his attention on you. You fucking lost your mind when he spelled each letter of his name on your sensitive bundle of nerves. A second orgasm washed over you in a bright light, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you murmured absolute nonsense mixed with cries of his name.

Your cunt clamping down on his cock like a vice sent him over the edge. At the very last second, Crocodile pulled out to spurt thick stripes of cum across your stomach. With a deep, satisfied groan, he jerked himself to completion until your skin was painted white. Fully marking you as his own.

Satisfaction and exhaustion made your eyes flutter shut, but Crocodile ensured you stayed awake by giving you a surprisingly tender forehead kiss. Cradling your cheek, he asked, “Feel better?”

“My ass hurts, but yes. I feel great.” You nodded with a fucked-out grin, chasing his lips for a real kiss which he eagerly granted.

“Good. As pretty as you look covered in my cum, the next load is going inside you. I need to fuck a baby into my beautiful girl.”

His next load? Your eyes widened when he began stroking his cock again, still soft but beginning to twitch with interest. Turning your head, you met the downward-turned eyestalks of his shut-off Transponder Snail.

#bananawani comparison bc it's what he would've wanted #sir crocodile smut #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile imagine #crocodile smut #dom!crocodile #crocodile x reader #crocodile imagine #one piece smut #one piece x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile #request #anon #mine #my fics #croc

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4unnyr0se · 6 months ago

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❥ librarian | chuuya nakahara

warnings: fem! reader, meet cute, chuuya is a flirt bc i said so, wined and dined, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, bedroom sex, hickeys, making out, hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, rough sex, whiny chuuya, corruption kink(?), reader does not know how to dress to save her life, sugar daddy(?) chuuya, unironic lip biting, chuuya is one hell of a chef, dirty talk, reader reads smut, semi-proofread

MDNI | 18+ content

word court -> 4.7k

“Excuse me, could you keep your voice down, please? It’s a library…” was something that you said more often than you would like to admit. Sure, you only took the library job because of how insanely introverted you were, but that was neither here nor there. You thought that people would have more respect for a place that let you borrow as many books as you wanted, but nope. It was either filled with screaming children, teenagers kissing in the nonfiction section, or the elderly who didn’t know how to open their email accounts, bless them.

Other than the constant shushing (and the resulting glares you get from people you’ve shushed), the library job was nice. It was comforting, it had decent pay, and you got to keep some of the books that no one wanted to check out anymore. Hell, you even got hit on once or twice by freakishly tall men. Then again, all men were freakishly tall in your eyes. You fit the tiny librarian stereotype quite well, which your fellow librarians found to be adorable.

Standing in the true crime section, your heeled feet stood on a step stool so you could better organize books about mafia activity in past decades. It wasn’t a very popular section by any means, mostly because the locals that frequented the library thought that true crime a was bit too niche. You didn’t mind really, it just meant that you got to be on the opposite side of the building and away from the screaming children. Often you wondered what it would be like to be a witness to a mafia hit, how the adrenaline pumping in your veins would make you feel. Lost in your train of thought, you neglected to notice that you were slowly slipping off of the step stool, the backings of your high heels teetering off the edge. It wasn’t a steep drop by any means but it would hurt pretty damn badly if you fell.

Taking an ignorant step back, the back of your heel found nothing to land on. Yelping slightly, you spread your arms out and waved them back and forth in what was probably the world's weakest attempt at flying. “Oh shit-” you closed your eyes shut and braced for impact, hoping that you wouldn’t land on the sharp metal bookshelves behind you.

The impact never came. Instead, you felt a warm embrace of someone holding you. You opened up one eye carefully, your baby hairs covering your forehead.

“Hey, you okay?” A deep and raspy voice snapped both of your eyes open, your gaze landing on a head of ginger hair. The man smirked at you and let you down, making sure you didn’t have any scratches by scanning your body up and down. Or maybe he was checking you out, who knows?

“Uh, yeah. I think I’ll be fine.” You nodded, dusting off your pants. No scuffs on the expensive fabric, thank God. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t hit my head, by the way. Not everyone would do that.”

The man crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, giving you a questioning look. “You must work with some real assholes then. In my line of work, ladies don’t get treated like crap. At least the ones who everyone respects.”

“Seriously? Damn, that seems like a really good job.” You smiled at him, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“Eh…it has some setbacks. I won’t get into it now, too much bullshit to unpack here.” He bit the inside of his cheek, holding out his hand for you to shake. It was gloved, he seemed like a gentleman. Or maybe he just really didn’t like getting dirt on his hands.

You smiled and eagerly took his hand, looking into his subtly blue eyes. They really complimented his ginger hair and pale complexion, hell, he even looked like the main character in a popular romance novel.

“Chuuya Nakahara, at your service.” He smirked once more, letting go of your hand. He noticed that your hands were smaller than his own, in fact, you were actually smaller than he was. And that was rare, considering he was in close competition with most middle schoolers in the height category. “What’s your name? I wanna know the name of the women I saved from eating absolute shit.”

You giggled and told him your name, putting your hands in your pockets. Chuuya thought your giggle was sweet, like a song bird. It was a welcome sound in his life. After all, Chuuya was used to gunshots and screams instead of the giggling of a cute librarian with a name that fitted her oh so right.

“You got a cute name, y’know. Hope you don’t mind me sayin’ that.” Chuuya placed his hands in his pockets as well, fiddling with the lintballs in the corners of the expensive fabric.

The silent was quite awkward between the two of you. Chuuya, a secret mafia boss who’s experience with women was tainted with expensive red wine. And yourself, a librarian who was so introverted that the world could end and you’d jump for joy.

And yet, something brought the two of you out of your own little worlds and into each others? Was it love, perhaps? Unlikely. Chuuya thought that love at first sight was for suckers, and you thought that love at first sight only existed in movies.

No, there was only unspoken desires between you both. Heart rates quickening, blushes forming on your faces. Chuuya’s mind was racing, his thoughts plagued by images of you. He just met you but god were you sexy. That fucking thrifted turtleneck sweater contrasted hard with your expensive designer jeans that were no doubt a Christmas gift from a wealthy relative. You had no idea how to dress and Chuuya thought that was the most precious thing. Were you really that innocent, locked away in your own little world? You probably had no idea that your sweater hugged the curves of your tits perfectly, that your pants showed off your thighs so expertly. God, it drove Chuuya wild.

What did your lips feel like, so plump and perfect? Where they untained, fresh as snow? Or were you just putting on an act, secretly a vixen behind that innocent and soft stare? Chuuya didn’t know, but he just had to find out. The redhead had only just met you but holy fuck, you were simply perfect. He had to get a taste, even if it was the last thing he did.

“So what’s a pretty thing like you workin’ in a place like this? Do they pay you well or somethin’?” Chuuya asked, leaning against the metal shelving that held the American history collection.

You shook your head and sighed, placing a hand on your hip in frustration. “Unfortunately no, I could really use a raise.” You sighed, running a hand through your comically messy hair. “The only reason I can afford my apartment is that my parents left me quite a bit of money when I said I wanted to live on my own. I’m a lucky person, I guess.” You chuckled at the last bit, flashing Chuuya a smile that drove him crazy. He faked a cough to hide the obvious lump growing in his throat, a tinge of pink dusting his freckled face.

“Yeah, you really are lucky.” He took a step foreward, placing his thumb on your chin, tilting your head up ever so slightly so his eyes met your own. “And you’re really fucking pretty.” He whispered, taking his hand off your chin.

“O-oh, thank you.” You stammered, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked down at your feet. The Mary Jane’s you wore wree slightly scuffed, they always have been. It adds a bit of character, one could say. Chuuya smiled softly and adjusted his hat, taking a step back to give you space.

“Listen, I have work that I gotta get back to or else my boss will kill me. Can we meet up at your place after that. Y’know, only if ya want to. I’m no pusher.” He blushed at the last part, rubbing the back of his neck to avoid making direct eye contact with you. It was strange, Chuuya has always been smooth with the women he met in bars. So why were you making him so flustered? Maybe it was because unlike the girls he picked up before, you were innocent. Pure, like fresh snow.

You were taken aback by his flirtations, though they weren’t unwelcome. You stopped fidgeting with your fingers for a moment, biting down on the plumpness of your lower lip.

“What, cat got your tongue or something?” Chuuya grinned, proud of himself for his little joke.

N-no, well not exactly.” You mumbled, sucking in a deep breath so you could look at the devilishly handsome man in front of you. “I’ve, God this is embarrassing, I haven’t been on a date since college.” Sighing, you stared at the bookshelf next to you. “It’s pathetic, I know. I get if you aren’t interested in me anymore.”

Chuuya frowned and took his hands out of his pockets, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t give a fuck if you’ve been on zero dates or a million of them. That doesn’t matter. I asked if you wanted me to come over so I can fuckin’ cook for you.”

“You can cook?”

“What kind of world are you living in? Of course I cook, what kind of man can’t cook?” Chuuya pinched his temple with his fingers, silently cursing all the worlds incompetent men that drove the standard to decency so low that it was practically in hell. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shout at ya. Old habits.”

“Don’t worry about it, I deal with screaming children all day. You’re fine.” You smile, taking out your phone. “Here, put your number in and I’ll give you my address.”

Chuuya shook his head, a bead of sweat dripping from his brow. “Actually, um, my phone is broken right now. How about you just write it down for me, dollface?” He couldn’t risk putting your information into his phone, what if Mori was going through it? He could deem you a security risk and then only God knows what would happen. Chuuya wouldn’t risk it, he had to make sure you were okay with his…business before he did anything too personal like give you his contact information.

“Oh, sure. I guess giving you my number is too personal, sorry.” You awkwardly chuckled, leading him to the main library desk. You ripped off a sticky note from the pad and wrote down your address in pretty cursive letters. Chuuya smiled to himself as he saw your handwriting, it was the cutest fucking thing. You were absolutely a librarian, no doubt about it.

“So, see you at seven?” He asked, shoving the sticky note into his jacket pocket.

“Seven’s all right. What will you be making me?” You asked, beginning to type away at the library computer.

“It’s a surprise.” Chuuya winked at you, turning around and walking away. You blushed and resting your cheek on your hand. In your mind you were dancing in happiness, finally having landed a date. And such a good looking one at that. Who the hell cares if he’s short, he’s tall to you. Height doesn’t matter anyways.

Your shift ended and you practically skipped out of the library building, clutching onto the messenger bag that carried your erotic novels. The library didn’t carry anything erotic, you just disguisted the books with false covers about local history and lore. No one would be into that shit, so it was the perfect plan. The stories consisted of fantasy romances with sections that were so arousing that you couldn’t read it without thinking that you were committing some sort of sin.

Stepping up the stairs to your apartment, you opened the door and shut it quickly as to not attract any unwanted pests. Mostly bugs, they’ve become a real problem. What would Chuuya think if he saw a bug in your apartment? Your mind was speeding, anxiety building up in your belly. This was your first date in a while, what if you fuck it up somehow? Or worse, what if it goes too well and he wanted to have his way with you. Chuuya was too handsome to refuse sure, but what about you? You couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex, let alone kissed somebody? Oh God, what if that turned him off and he never spoke to you again?

“Dammit, snap out of it!” You slapped yourself across the face, hissing slightly at the pain. Putting yourself together, you strode over to your bedroom and pulled out a dress from way back in your closet. It was a decent length dress with spaghetti straps, your fanciest piece of clothing. The rest of your wardrobe consisted of sweatpants, tank tops with cartoon characters on it, the occasional designer jean, and several thrifted sweaters that had absolutely been worn by a grandfather.

The dress slipped onto you no problem, like a glove. You didn’t bother wearing any tights or stockings, the dress covered your legs up nicely. You decided to just leave your hair as it was, draped nicely around your shoulders. Light makeup here and there, if you could count mascara and lipgloss as makeup.

Exiting your bedroom, your hands dropped to their sids as you sat down on your living room sofa. There wasn’t anything good on the TV, and reading an erotic novel before Chuuya got there would have probably ruined the mood for you. Was getting ready too early a mistake? Maybe.

Your eyes watched the clock, your pupils going in circles as the second hand made its rotation over and over again until it was about 6:55PM. A knock was heard at your door, snapping you out of the cycle of clock-looking.

Squealing quietly, you speed-walked over to your door. Taking a deep breath in, you opened the door and there Chuuya stood, holding a bag of groceries in one hand and a singular red rose in the other. “Hey there pretty girl, mind if I come in?”

“O-of course, Chuuya. Uh, sorry.” You stammered, shutting the door as he let himself inside. Chuuya stood in the foyer of your apartment for a moment, quickly noticiny the hundreds of books the lined the shelves. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised doll, shoulda known you’re a huge nerd.” He chuckled, handing you the rose. His outfit was not too different from that afternoon, only the hat and the jacket were missing.

“Thank you, it’s really pretty.” You blushed, placing the rose in a nearby empty vase. “So, um, what are you making me tonight? I’m starving.” You led him into the kitchen, helping him set down the groceries on the counter.

“Kobe beef,” Chuuya said nonchalantly, looking around the kitchen. “Where are your knives? Don’t see em anywhere.”

“In that drawer right there- did you saya kobe beef?” You gasped, taking a step back. “B-but that’s really expensive! This is just a first date y’know, I would have accepted take out!” You stammered, not used to the treatment. Did he really just buy kobe beef for you? How much does he get paid?

“Yeah, what about it? You a vegetarian or something?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow, opening the beef from its luxurious packaging and placing it on the simple wooden cutting board.

“No, it’s just that…well kobe is really expensive and this is a first date! It’s not even at the nice restaurant or anything, it’s my fucking house!” You whisper-yelled at him, walking foreward so your face was inches away from your own. Your shyness was replaced with anxiety, anxiety that you really had no excuse to have.

Chuuya smiled and patted you on the head, rubbing on your hair with his gloved hand. “Don’t worry about that princess, just have a seat and let me cook for you, yeah?” He assured you, gesturing to your kitchen table. “And besides, you’re dressed up like a five course meal, so shouldn’t you be treated to one?” He smirked, finishing up the chopping of the beef. He figured out how to work your stove pretty quickly, placing the beef in a pan with a little bit of truffle oil. The stove roared to life as the beef began to quickly sizzle, a wonderful aroma that smelled like luxury filled your apartment.

You blushed at Chuuya’s comment, sitting yourself down in the chair. You watched him cook, his brows furrowed in concentration.

The beef was done cooking after a bit, being carefully plated with an array of incredibly looking vegetables. Chuuya sat across from you and took your hand in his own, kissing the back of yours tenderly.

“Bon appetit, princess.” He grinned at you, his eyes hiding a lust that was so extreme Asmodeous himself was jealous. He observed how you ate the beef so carefully, so tenderly. You savored each and every bite, sighing occasionally as the flavors hit your tongue over and over again. Chuuya bit his lip as he watched you eat, barely touching his own dinner. You looked absoltuely succulent in front of him, oblivious to how you were making him feel. Chuuya wanted to shove everything off the table and fuck you right then and there, but he decided to be a gentlemen about it. Dine you, maybe wine you, and only touch your pretty body if you wanted him too.

You finished your meal quickly, frowning to yourself at Chuuya’s full plate. “Are you not hungry or something?” You asked, ignoring the bits of beef resting at the corner of your mouth.

“I’m hungry for…something else.” Chuuya smirked, grabbing your dirty plate and placing it in the sink. He stepped over to you and took your hand, hoisting you up from your chair. Carefully, his arm wrapped around your waist so he could pull you in closer to his own form, his fingers running up and down your hip bone. “If you know what I mean.”

You blushed and slowly nodded your head, noticing how his perfect blue eyes seemed to have fireballs igniting within the azure pools. “I…I do. I just…I haven’t had sex in a while. Kind of goes hand-in-hand with the whole dating thing.” You awkwardly laughed to yourself, hoping a joke would lighten the tension.

“I could change that for you dollface, if you want me to.” Chuuya purred, tilting your chin up to his lips were just hovering above yours. “Just say the word sweetheart, and I’ll make you see stars.” He whispered, his hot breath touching your trembling lips.

You thought for a moment, your mouth still agape at Chuuya’s boldness. “...okay.” You breathed against his lips, mere centimeters away.

With your consent, Chuuya crashed his lips against yours. With one hand clutching ont your waist, the other cupped your face quite gently. His kiss was rough and passionate, groaning into your mouth at the sensation that he had so long been craving.

Your hands flew to grab onto his hair, tugging at the longer part. Chuuya moaned slightly at the sensation, squeezing the fabric of your dress. He pulled himself away slowly, choosing to instead attack the delicate flesh of your neck. His lips found your sweetspot and sucked harshly, your lips producing the cutest little moans which only made his cock harder. A bright purple hickey formed in no time at all, definitely going to last a few days.

“You wear turtlenecks, right? Shouldn’t be a fuckin’ problem then.” He growled against your neck, trialing molten kissed down until he reached your collarbone, playfully licking it.

“M-maybe we should go to the bedroom? Comfier.” You managed to squeak out, softly moaning as Chuuya continued to nip and kiss at your collarbone. He pulled away, grumbling at the loss of contact.

“Good idea dollface, smart.” He lifted you up bridal style, chuckling as you squealed. “You’re so fuckin’ adorable baby, y’know that?” He asked, kicking open the door to your bedroom. He practically threw you onto the bed and pounced, pinning your wrists above your head quickly. Chuuya slammed his lips against yours once more, shoving his tongue down your throat as your teeth clashed for dominance.

Taking a break from the onslaught of tongue-on-tongue, Chuuya gently stroked your face with his still-gloved hand. “Fucking good mouth you got, sweetheart.” He purred, shifting himself so he was looking at your hips. “Now tell me,” His hand reached to his mouth, peeling off his gloves with his teeth. “Do you want my fingers or my tongue first, princess?”

You gulped nervously, your face feeling like it was going to explode at any moment from how fucking horny you were for this man. Your legs were practically shaking under him, how was it possible that one man could make you feel euphoria without fucking you?

“B-both, please…” You whispered, not daring to look into his aflamed blue eyes that burned for you. Your aroused pooled in your belly, just waiting to be taken care of.

Chuuya nodded approvingly, lifting your dress up to reveal your panties that were soaked in your arousal. “Fuckin’ dirty girl, so perfect for me.” He whispered, hastily removing your panties and tossing them into some corner of your bedroom. He shivered at the sight of your glistening core, admiring how otherworldly it looked in the dim lights of your bedroom.

“Shit,” Chuuya groaned, gathering some of your slick on his fingertips before carefully inserting his index and middle finger inside of your sobbing cunt. He wasted no time in curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting them back and forth swiftly.

“Oh fuck, oh my God!” You cried out, throwing your head back even further into the soft pillows beneath you. Your legs wanted so badly to wrap around his hand, trapping him there for a while.

“That’s it baby, scream for me. Fuckin’ scream for me princess.” He growled, his lips sucking on your clit roughly. His tongue lapped and sucked at your desperate folds, fingers pumping in and out of you like he was in a competition. He could feel your walls sucking him in, knowing your orgasm was close.

“Fucking cum for me baby, lemem hear those pretty moans of yours!” Chuuya demanded, eating you out like a starved man.

“Oh fuck, Chuuya!” You screamed out his name as your orgasm finally hit, the knot in your belly becoming undone too fast for your own liking. You wish that moment could last forever instead of mere moments.

Gasping and panting, you propped yourself up by your elbows to be greeted with a chuckling Chuuya, licking off your cum with his expert tongue. “You taste so much better than anything I’ve ever fucking had before princess.” He spoke, his voice low and sultry.

Chuuya briefly got off the bed to take off his pants and boxers, gasping as the air of your bedroom hit his throbbing cock. He relished in your shocked expression, your mouth left hanging wide open at the sight of him.

“What, never seen a big dick before?” He chuckled, getting on top of you once more. He lifted your legs up so they rested on his shoulders, giving him the most perfect angle to fuck you seneless.

“Not in a while, no.” You retorted, offering Chuuya a smirk of your own. That one simple movement of your facial muscle was all it took for him to align his cock with your entrance, slamming it inside of you.

“That was so fucking hot babe, do it again.” He demanded, pounding himself into your core without giving you any time to adjust to his length or girth. His hands gripped the undersides of your thighs, occasionally smacking the subble skin.

“Ngh, h-holy fuck! Chuuya, shit! So fucking big, oh my fucking God!” You cried out, your hands making desperate motions to grab onto anything. Chuuya bent down, pushing you into a mating press so he could better hold your hand.

“Shit, fucking scream my name babygirl. Fuck, you’re squeezing on to me so damn tight!” He groaned into your ear, his balls snapping against your ass over and over again. Your cheeks were flushed, mouth gaping open. All that left your lips were wanton moans and cries of pleasure as Chuuya’s cock hit your G-spot over and over again, the pleasure once again pooling in your belly.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, I’m close! Chuuya, fuck!” You screamed, slamming your lips upwards onto his own. He happily accepted the kiss, biting down onto your lower lip as he felt your cunt contract around his soaked cock.

“Fuck, can you hold out just a little longer baby? Wan’ cum with you, yeah?” He whined against your lips, furiously meeting his hips with your own as the scent of sex and longing filled the bedroom.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” You cried into his ear, not sure how much longer you could stand to not fall into your orgasm.

He growled against your neck, his thrusts becoming staggered and desperate in a relentless tempo as Chuuya’s own orgasm approached him. “Shit, gonna fucking cum. Cum with me yeah, please fucking come with me!”

A silent scream left your lips as euphoria enveloped your body, wave after wave of ecstasy hitting you as your orgasm finally came. Your arousal squeezed and coated Chuuya’s cock, sending him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my God! Fuck…” He gapsed into your neck, his ministrations slowing down until they came to a complete stop. He collapsed onto you, lazily kissing your neck and the hickeys that covered it.

You smiled, peeling the sweaty hairs away from your face as you embraced Chuuya in your arms. “That was…just like the books I read.” You chuckled, running your fingers through his mess of red hair. “Almost exactly like those books, actually.”

Chuuya looked up from your breast and raised an eyebrow, flipping you around so you were now embraced in his arms. “You read porn?”

You nodded, gesturing to your nightstand. “Yeah, I try to keep it a secret though. My coworkers would never let me live it down if they knew the truth.” You gave him a crooked smile, curling further into his chest.

He nodded in understanding, kissing your forehead. “Well, we gotta do this again princess. Because that was…well it was fuckin’ amazing. Who knew the cute little librarian was so dirty?” He joked, poking your cheek teasingly.

“I literally just let you finish inside of me and you’re making jokes?”

“Hey, I’m allowed to be funny. I’m a fuckin’ sex god.”

You sighed and kissed his lips, feeling your eyes grow heavy with sleep. “Y’know, I don’t have work tomorrow if you wanted to stay the night…” You yawned, embracing the feeling of coziness and warmth.

Chuuya was a bit shocked by your words at first, smacking his lips together. He smiled down at you, ruffling up your nest of a hair that was no doubt caused by his body moving against yours for a good twenty minutes. “I’d really like that, princess.” He assured you, grabbing his phone from your nightstand to type something in. “Just lettin’ my boss know I’ll be late for my assignment tomorrow.”

“What if he gets mad at you?” You asked, your sleepy voice filled with just a pinch of concern.

“Well, he can suck my dick for all I care. Although, I’d much rather have you do that.” He winked, throwing the covers above your sweaty forms. “So, are you going to get changed or are we sleeping in our date night clothes?”

“Mm, date night clothes. I don’t think I’ll be able to fucking walk after what you did to me.” You laughed, pulling Chuuya closer. You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through the expensive shirt he wore. “Have sweet dreams, okay? And…pleae be here when I wake up tomorrow.” You whispered the last part before drifting off, the cutest little snore escaping from your parted lips.

Chuuya sighed and kissed the top of your head, admiring how innocent you looked in your slumber. “I promise beautiful, I’m not going anywhere.”

#bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #bsd x you #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara smut #bsd x reader smut

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jamiepaige · 14 days ago

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Constant Companions Closeup #2: NOT QUITE THERE

(also on spotify!)

b-b-back once again

Round two of the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Yesterday was track one, Dyad - today is track two, Not Quite There, featuring the incomparable telebasher!

This one's a bit of a dark horse relative to the rest of the album, but it may very well be my personal favorite song on the entire thing so dammit let's Yap

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For the uninitiated, this song pulls heavily from a song off my previous album called Gummyworm, both in vibe and by very directly quoting its synth motif.

Both of these songs deal with two sides of the same emotional coin. I actually don't want to go into too much detail about it - I feel like the lyrics spell things out clearly enough - but I will say this:

When it's all you know, it's easy to believe that a love that isolates you, a love that doesn't respect you, a love that hurts is better than no love at all.

You deserve better. There are always people who genuinely want what's best for you, who want you to feel truly loved. It certainly isn't always easy - it's genuinely good if your interpersonal relationships have a little friction sometimes - but love should make your life brighter.

You deserve a love that's fair.

---

The original version of this song was actually intended to be on Bittersweet alongside Gummyworm. The original concept for that album had a whole heady concept involving duality, songs reflecting each other, the two halves basically being reprisals of each other... Ultimately, I'm glad I scrapped that idea, because it was waaaaaay too much for me to manage after a couple years of barely making music. Maybe I'll revisit it someday though?

The drums on this song are sampled from an Instagram post by Louis Cole, where he's doing this crazy one-handed hi-hat blast by holding a drumstick sideways. I'm a drummer and that shit genuinely scares me a little like i dont know how he does half the things he does its fucked BUT. I bring this up because he's one of my biggest inspirations as a musician! I'm really big on jazz in general, in case my love for spicy chords wasn't enough of an indication, but his specific brand of freaky hyperactive bullshit just does it for me.

Seriously, go watch his band KNOWER play their song Overtime. Absolutely insane performances across the board. also Clown Core

This whole song is really just my attempt at matching some of that hectic jazzy energy with my own style of music, so I figured it only made sense to make it another collab with another musician making delightfully frantic jazz bullshit - the legend herself, telebasher! I really am such a massive fan of her work, and I struggle to think of anyone who plays guitar quite like she does. We previously worked together on another Bittersweet track, Asemic Speech, and her guitar work is a major reason why that song is still one of my favorite I've ever released!! She's just built different like listen to this oh my god!!!!

Lastly, since this song was one of the first written for this entire project... it is admittedly a case of me shoehorning the album's leitmotif in after the fact. It's a little forced when it shows up in the backing vocals! But, the choir of vocal synths during the guitar solo served an additional purpose - my own voice doesn't show up on the album again for another four entire songs, and this would've otherwise been the only song on the entire album that didn't feature any vocal synths. Thus did I attempt to bridge the gap, as it were. Hopefully it makes the final product feel more natural!!

Either way, that's all for today's post.... i think.... which means that tomorrow.... we're gonna rot.... for clout

#jamie paige #music #constant companions #bandcamp #behind da scenes #slightly shorter post today orz

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geraskierfanficprompts · 5 months ago

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Prompt 70

Jaskier is the worst roommate Geralt could ever ask for. He comes home at odd hours of the night, constantly makes noise and chatter, and he brings home random strangers almost every damn night. It'll be three in the morning when Jaskier stumbles in, drunk off his ass, heeled shoes loudly clicking against their floor as he meanders about, squinting and knocking things over. At least he has the decency to mumble "Sorry" every time he breaks something, but is he apologizing to Geralt, or apologizing to the damn mop? He talks to himself, he sings to himself, he sings as a hobby, he sings as a job, he plays his lute/guitar loudly all throughout the day and night, he even talks in his damn sleep. Constant humming, singing, talking, muttering, whispering. Hookups and flings and fuckbuddies galore, both women and men. Not that Geralt cares, it was just something he observed. They'd steal his food, or use up the shower when Geralt was meant to be getting ready for work, or they'd leave and keep the door unlocked. The worst was when Jaskier's bachelor of the night mistook Geralt's bedroom for Jaskier's bedroom and very happily cozied up and went to sleep in Geralt's bed. Naked. Geralt didn't even care if he was high, drunk, or just dumb, he threw him out all the same. When Geralt's girlfriend, Yennefer, breaks up with him, he is comforted by Jaskier of all people. Coming home tipsy and without a shirt, and yet still sitting down next to Geralt and giving him a thoughtful, long, deep pep-talk. Maybe he isn't all bad, after all. Geralt is the worst roommate Jaskier could ever ask for. Don't get Jaskier wrong, Geralt is unbelievably easy on the eyes, but that's pretty much all he has. Geralt always looms silently in the dark, offers brutal remarks at best and grunts at worst, and for some reason always has a little blood on him. It'll be three in the morning when Jaskier stumbles in, drunk off his ass, and Geralt will just walk out of the shadows with an insanely deep "Did you remember to lock the door?", scaring the bleeding daylights out of him! He walks quieter than a damn cat! He should wear a bell like one! Fuck's sakes! Geralt's ~lovely~ comments are always harsh but sadly never truly unprompted. Jaskier will get stuck on a line and ask aloud for help, momentarily forgetting his only recent company has been Geralt, and Geralt will sometimes oblige him with an answer, such as "Can you shut up for five minutes?" "It's too late for this shit." "I hate it." So on and so forth. Jaskier learns to stop asking... Mostly. Jaskier went to shave one time, and found blood in the sink. He looked over at Geralt and asked him if he had cut himself shaving. Geralt said no. Jaskier REASONABLY asked why there had been blood in the sink, and got the answer "Work." WORK?????? "And your job is what?! BLEEDING INTO SINKS!?" and yet Geralt was already walking out the door. But then one night he comes home, to find Geralt waiting for him - Silently, alone in the dark, just sat there. Like always. Weirdo. - demanding his half of the rent. Fuck. Fuck, Jaskier completely forgot- Jaskier starts panicking. He explains how he doesn't have the money, that some of his latest gigs have backed out on him or refused him pay for bullshit reasons and he didn't earn as much as he expected to, and begs to not be kicked out. He's surprised when Geralt calms him down from his spiral, and tells him to take a deep breath and wash away his tears - Shit, when did he start crying? - He comes back and Geralt sits him down and explains he'll cover the entire rent this month, his work had gone extra well recently. He knows what it's like for people to pull out pay or suddenly ignore your deal, and won't hold it against Jaskier, but expects him to be able to pay next time. Jaskier is so overjoyed he hugs Geralt. And Geralt lets him. Maybe he isn't all bad, after all.

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ovaryacted · 1 year ago

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RELEASE YOUR INHIBITIONS

PAIRING: RE4! Leon x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: Leon comes back home all tense from the stress building up in his body. Being the loving partner you are, you give him some much needed relief.

CONTENT/WARNING: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn without plot. Hard Dom/Sub. Authority Kink. Hair Pulling. Degradation/Humiliation. Throat Fucking. Spanking. Spitting. Knife Play. Light Cum Play. Dacryphilia. Use of stoplight system. Some aftercare towards the end.

WC: 5.4k

NOTES: Godamn sorry about the wait but here is Week 2 of Kinktober, probably the craziest and longest thing I've written so far. We're slowly catching up to get back on schedule before the month ends lol. Yeah, intense fucking, Leon is a warning on his own. I had fun writing this too and I hope you all like it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

《 Kinktober Masterlist 2023 ⟡ Main Masterlist 》

Hard leather boots scraped the floor of the entryway with every step he took. The wooden planks softly creaked underneath his weight as he closed the front door behind him. Taking a step forward, he threw the keys in the glass bowl at the entrance console table and the duffle he carried fell to the ground.

It wasn’t like Leon to be this irritable, but the bullshit he kept handling continued to build up in ways he could no longer manage. He was usually a man of composure, keeping his emotions in check and not being able to register them half of the time. He tries his hardest not to crack under pressure, the years of training he had to endure ingraining into his mind to tolerate the worst of his circumstances with zero complaints.

This week, he was at his limit, ready to snap at any given moment from having limited time to feel normal. The constant assignments and the shitload of responsibilities he’s given without so much as a please and a thank you were driving him insane. It was just too much, and he could feel the migraine he had since this morning beginning to pulse at his temples.

Even if he didn’t vocalize it, you could always tell his cues before he did. Knowing him so intimately gave you the ability to read his body language, a quality Leon was always grateful to have found in his partner. You’ve been with him long enough that you learned to tell his mood based on the way he walked around the apartment.

If his footsteps were light and soft, he was alright, possibly having a small smile on his face and looking for you to wrap his arms around your waist in a hug. If you didn’t hear his footsteps despite him being inside, he’s probably being mischievous or anxious about something, no in between.

In the instance where his footsteps were heavy and loud, he was stressed and annoyed. This circumstance was rare, Leon doing his best to keep the inconvenience of his job out of the safe space you two created in the comfort of your home. But you knew him best and understood he was a man who walked around with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Coming out of hiding from the bedroom, you saw him right at the threshold separating the hallway and the living room. He didn’t say much, but you saw it in his eyes, how his thoughts tormented him to no avail.

“Baby, you alright?”, you asked him carefully, approaching him slowly while he stood as still as a statue due to all the tension he had built up inside him. The second your fingers grazed his chest through his jacket, you felt the rumble of a sigh, but his hands didn’t reach to touch you.

“I’m guessing today was a bad day?”, you waited for him to speak on his own before making any assumptions.

“Just pissed”, Leon said almost in a growl, and you could tell it was bad from the way his jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t know the extent of his irritation, but from the way his chest shook with every exhale, it was deeper than usual. Nodding in silent acknowledgment, you were mentally preparing for what you would ask him next.

“What do you need?”, at that question, Leon’s bright blue eyes met up with yours, his mind painting a picture of what he wanted but he refused to say it completely.

“I don’t think you want to know”, he muttered, but you were stubborn just like him.

“Try me”, you wouldn’t turn him down, no matter how crazy his suggestion may be. You’ve seen him at his worst even if he attempted to hide it from you, but you knew he needed you in more ways than one.

There was a moment when his gaze landed on you again, finding comfort and reassurance in how you saw what he was planning. Your soft look told him everything he needed to hear without saying anything at all. I trust you. I’m here for you, whatever you need.

No words came out as he grabbed your hips, pulling you flush to his body and kissing you harshly. It took you off guard at first at the force of the kiss, but you welcomed it and let him lead. His hands squeezed at you aggressively, teeth and tongue meshing together between you two as your breath caught in your throat. It was as if he wanted to eat your face alive, his lips pressed hard against you and making your body heat up. All too soon, he pulled away, leaving your lips tingling from the sensation of his mouth on yours.

“Bedroom. Now.”, pleasantries were out of the window, and Leon wasn’t up for any games. You followed his orders, playing the role of whatever he needed you to be at that very moment. The tension in the air was thick between you, seeing his figure coming in through the door and closing it behind him as if to signal that there was no escape.

Standing and waiting for his next command, he teased you the slightest bit, taking off the leather jacket he wore and tossing it on the armchair in the corner of the room. His head turned to look at you, mouthing two words that filled your body with arousal.

“Come here.”

Feeling gravitated to him, you did just that, walking towards him until your feet were almost touching his. His demeanor told you he wasn’t going to play nice, that much you could read. But Leon was always full of surprises when he was like this, so you never fully knew what to expect and that’s what made it so exciting.

“What am I going to do with you…”, he seemed to ask himself this, running his fingers over your cheek as you chased his touch. He chuckled when you did, noticing the blush you already had on your face.

“You remember what to say and do when it gets too much?”, Leon asked you, his tone softer than before as he studied you when you nodded. “Tell me”

“I say red, or I tap your thigh”, you tell him simply, and since he arrived at the apartment he has a smile on his hardened face.

“Good. Now get on your knees”, his tone was back to being forceful, watching you move down to the floor without hesitation.

“I’ve always liked you like this, ready and eager to please. I knew I did the right thing keeping you around”, he said, but his words only added to the fire starting to grow in your lower gut.

“You know what to do baby. Don’t make me tell you twice”, he called out to you, feeling your hands running up his thick thighs through the dark wash jeans he wore.

You were quick to get him out of his pants, undoing his belt at the buckle and tossing it to the side behind you. Lowering the zipper and popping the button, you grew shy knowing Leon was watching every move you made, but you’ve done this a hundred times over. The thick denim material hiding his body slipped down to the middle of his thighs, followed by you pulling down the briefs he wore.

Already half-hard and throbbing, you wasted no time, kissing his bulge and touching his hips. He let you do that for a while, just simply touching him and building up the tension before your neck strained with the way he yanked your hair in his fist. Needy eyes focused on his face, and he smirked down at you.

“Don’t tease me. Open wide, I want to feel the back of your throat”, he was back to using a more authoritative tone of voice, and you knew better than to make him wait any longer.

“Yes sir”, you merely gasped, your lips parting to suck at his tip, tasting the savory precum through his slit.

Inhaling a breath, your hot mouth encased his cock easily, slowly slipping down as far as you could and relaxing your jaw before taking more of him. You breathed in your nose now, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks with your hands on his thigh for support, nails curling into his skin. You heard the groan of relief from above you, and you couldn’t help the way your lips curled upwards around him as you sucked him off.

You knew how he liked it. Messy, hot, and sloppy, your throat a safe haven to help him forget all of the things that upset him at that moment. Lucky enough to have some semblance of control before he took charge, you felt his fingers tighten on your head. Clutching the strands at your scalp, he pushed your mouth off of him until just the tip rested against your tongue.

“Having fun?”, you heard him say, a deep chuckle leaving him as he looked down at you. With one of his hands still wrapped in your hair, the other took hold of himself and tapped the tip of his length on your tongue, making you pant out for him.

“My needy girl, always wanting something in her mouth or she’ll get cranky”, he was condescending in his words, and you knew not to take it personally. In reality, all they did was make your body quiver from excitement.

Tugging you closer to his body with a pull of your hair, your mouth surrounded him again, forcing you down to the very base of his pelvis until your nose rubbed against his pubic bone. He held you there for a few seconds, just to feel your throat constrict around him and you sputtered against him. A tap to his thigh was felt, and he pulled back so you could take a breath before he did it again.

His hips moved to thrust toward the wet heat of your mouth, chasing the comforting warmth as dragged your head down simultaneously. You could feel him hitting the deepest parts of your throat, fighting the urge to swallow around him every time he dipped further down into you. He lost himself to the sensation of you deep-throating him, feeling the way your spit pooled in your mouth and covered his length every time he slipped back out.

“Always take me so fucking well. Mouth just as good as your pussy, I love it”, he rasped out, driving his hips further towards your face as you struggled to breathe through your nose.

His balls hit the bottom of your chin, drool beginning to cover the lower parts of your face with every piston of his hips. Leon reveled in the audible gagging sound that filled the bedroom, how your fingers clutched at his thighs but didn’t tap him as a signal to stop. He kept going, a consistent and snappy rhythm that made your jaw sore from how long it’s been opened. He might’ve been a bit rough with you now, but he knew you could handle it, he’s trained you to do so.

“You’re disgusting baby. Letting me do this to you, letting me fuck your pretty face like the whore you are”, he felt the vibration of a moan around him, eyes glossed over from the force of his hips colliding with your face.

“I bet you’re just soaked right now. Yeah, I know you are. You always get wet when you have some dick down your throat.”

Your face was flushed and you felt yourself clench, your legs squirming against the floor as your knees twitched. You so badly wanted to squeeze them together for some relief, to run a hand down between your thighs and rub at your clit until you finished yourself off. But you knew better, you refrained because this wasn’t about you, this was about him.

Leon’s cock pulsed against your tongue, another groan coming out of his mouth as one of his hands came to curl around your neck. He could feel the ridges of your skin expand from how deep he hit, every thrust against you stretching the base of your throat. It only made him fuck into your face harder, the pace of it making you dizzy and your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I’m gonna cum right here, and you’re gonna let me”, his fingers squeezed around your neck, making it even harder for you to breathe properly.

He overtook your senses, knowing he was about to fall over the edge. He cursed under his breath, words getting lost in the loud shlick sound that came from every push and pull he gave you. Tears gathered at your lash line, your grip around his shaking thighs growing weak the more Leon moved.

“Fuck fuck fuck…”, repeating those words like a mantra, he finished with a loud grunt.

Grabbing your head to pin it flush against his hips, you felt his cum going down your throat, choking against him as tears ran down your face. Clutching at his body and breathing shakily, you tried to remain calm to the best of your ability. You took everything he had to give you, no questions asked, closing your eyes and focusing on grounding yourself to whatever made sense.

With ease, Leon pulled his hips back, letting you catch your breath as you coughed the slightest bit. He could see the way you looked now, taking it all in and engraving it into his memory. Spit on your chin and cheeks, some of it hitting the top of your nose, face flushed and lips puckered up and pink. Your eyes were hazy, pupils dilated and almost lost as they focused up at him.

You were a mess, and that was how he liked you. He liked it when you were his mess.

But you knew he wasn’t done with you, not yet anyway.

“Get up.”, commanding you once more, you got off of your knees and stood on your feet, your knees almost buckling underneath your weight.

Leon grabbed your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks and kissing you on the mouth again. He could care less about how messy it was, how he could taste himself against your tongue, but that was what he wanted. He wanted to chase that sense of possession, that feeling that you’re the only one who could handle him like this.

Walking you towards the bed, the back of your knees hit the mattress, making you fall backward against it. Your elbows dug into the sheets, positioning yourself up on the edge of the bed as Leon kicked his boots off followed by throwing his jeans and shirt off. You looked over his body, eyes trailing over the hardened muscle he’s gained over the years, and your mind began to wander.

He lunged towards you, pawing at your body and trying to take off your t-shirt and lounge shorts. You gladly let him, his touch rough with fingers weathered from the constant gun holding. Leon was elated to find you not wearing a bra underneath, knowing you didn’t wear one when you were home. He left you in your underwear, a hand curled around your bare thigh and kneading at the skin.

“Making it easy for me aren’t you?”, he leered, hands instantly going towards your chest and squeezing your breasts. You moaned at the touch, arching further up into him and letting him handle you however he wanted.

“Yes sir”, you didn’t know if he was directly asking you the question, but you responded to him anyway.

An airy gasp left you when his lips grazed a nipple, your hands going to his hair and running through his scalp. His tongue lavishly circled one nipple before he quickly moved to the other, biting it softly and feeling it harden in his mouth.

“Color baby”, his voice filtered through the mess that was your brain, getting through to you.

“Green sir”

“Good”, he started to look for something around him, your ears picking up the sound of an item being unsheathed. Shiny metal filled your vision, and your eyes widened.

Leon held his tactical knife in his hand, thick fingers wrapped around the handle as he looked down at you. The grin on his face was almost dark, something you’ve only seen on rare occasions, but you couldn’t ignore the way it made a shiver run down your spine.

“You trust me, don’t you?”, he asked you, as if to reassure himself that you would let him do what he wanted to do next. You nodded, but he wanted to hear it from you.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, I always trust you sir”, your voice was shaky but the intent of your words wasn’t missed. You trusted Leon with your life, and when it came to things like this you’d do anything for him.

“I know you do”, he told you, the blunt part of the knife going towards your neck.

You gasped at the touch, keeping still and trying not to arch into the teasing sensation of cool metal running down your body. Leon’s grip curved a bit, the blade moving into the indent of your collarbone and down in between your chest slowly. The heat in your body was becoming unbearable, your hips twitching when you felt the edge of the knife dip toward the end of your belly button.

“You’d just let me do anything to you right? So long as it’s me doing it to you, an easy slut like you wouldn’t care what I did with this knife”

Anyone else would find those words disrespectful, but the sick part of you only wanted to indulge. You wanted more of this, more of Leon releasing his inhibitions and doing and saying exactly what he wanted.

“Yes sir”, you nodded, softly panting when the sharp edge of his knife ran along the waistband of your panties.

“You’d let me fuck you with this against your neck wouldn’t you”, he chortled darkly, moving the knife towards your thighs, being careful not to shift the way he handled it to avoid accidentally cutting you.

You nodded and your breath hitched in your throat, fingers grasping at the sheets the higher the blade went up your body. Leon was meticulous in his teasing, one of his hands moving to spread your legs more and to pin you down. His gaze went to the wet patch against the gusset of your panties, smirking again to see how turned on you were from how he treated you.

“You’re sick for liking this shit darling. I didn’t know I was dating someone so perverted”

Carefully, he twisted the knife so it was flat against your pussy, the hard surface pressed on your clit through the cotton fabric of your underwear. A needy moan filled the room and you had to stop yourself from grinding into the blade, growing desperate for more.

“Please sir…”, was the only thing you could say, Leon humming in response and pressing the knife harder against you. If you shifted your hips or legs even the slightest bit, you would hurt yourself. The danger of it all was what sent your hormones spiking, knowing that you put all of your trust into Leon like this was enough to turn your head to mush.

He decided to take pity on you after all the teasing, moving the knife away from between your legs and running the edge towards your hip. Swiftly, he cut at the waistband of your panties, making you yelp at the quickness of it. He did the same to the other side, ripping the now ruined cotton fabric out of his way and putting his knife on the bedside table away from the both of you.

Leon pounced on you, spreading your legs open and trialing a sneaky hand in between them. You didn’t protest when his fingers started to rub your pulsing clit, whimpering out at the touch and moving your hips for more. Clutching at one of your thighs to keep you opened up for him, he continued his touching, favoring tight circles on your sensitive nub and watching every reaction you made with hungry eyes.

“Awe? Does my whore need more?”, he commented, fingers trailing further down to stroke your entrance, marveling at how wet you were.

“Knew you’d be fucking soaked for me”

You felt two of his fingers slip into you and curl directly into your g-spot with practiced precision, crying out for him loudly. Leon leaned his body further down against you, his torso keeping your legs open as he thrust his digits into you. You arched your back and went to grasp at his shoulders, grinding your hips to fuck up into his hand. Already so pent up from the way Leon used your throat, you grew desperate to find any form of relief from his constant torture.

“Look at you, using my hand to get yourself off. Needy pussy can’t last a single day without being touched by me”

“Sir, please…”

You were begging now, stuck on the feeling of his thick fingers picking up their pace inside you and making you keen. Leon was taking in the show underneath him, how your eyebrows creased and you bit your lip to the point of bleeding the closer you got to your release. He could feel it, from the way your tight walls started to clench around him with every plunge.

The center of his palm came to rub against your clit and another digit entered you, bringing you to the point of overstimulation from the stretch. You were so close, your nails digging into his biceps and leaving red streaks in their wake. Your thighs shook, throat growing raw from the sounds you made and the pressure was building up so quickly in your body. On the verge of getting that pleasure you craved, Leon’s touch disappeared, and you opened your eyes in agitation. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking off whatever remained of your fluids and not caring about what he had just done.

“Why?!”, you said to him, voice higher in tone and unsteady from how your orgasm was taken away from you. He raised an eyebrow at your outburst, body leaning closer to you and his face turned serious.

“Are you trying to fight with me?”

“N-no sir”

“Mad you didn’t get to cum the way you wanted? I don’t give a shit if you’re upset, you take what I give you”, his sharp tone made you whine, the dominance rolling off of him in waves as his fingers squeezed at your hips.

“Repeat it.”

“I only take what you give me sir”, voice soft to prevent upsetting him further.

“So you do remember the rules. Let’s see just how good your brain is at following orders. Turn around, on your hands and knees”, he demanded, watching you move into position on the bed. His hands were on your hips, pulling you towards him so you were flush against his body.

“Count for me”

It was the last thing you heard before you felt a sting on your right ass cheek. The force of it made you lunge forward with a wince against the sheets. You weakly turned your head so he could hear your voice instead of digging your face into the bed.

“One sir”

“Good to know you still have manners”, he retorted, bringing his hand back down on the other cheek with a hard smack.

You kept counting, your voice wavering with every spank Leon delivered onto your ass. He’s fully aware of the fact that he was heavy-handed, using that to his advantage and not holding back with the intensity of the hits. Your skin began to turn red from the impacts, growing sensitive to the touch and no doubt leaving his handprints behind.

“Fuck ten! T-ten sir!”, you mewled into the bedsheets, body shaking from the treatment you had to endure and flinching away from him the slightest bit.

His hands were completely off your backside, rubbing at your shoulders affectionately.

“Color”, he was almost the slightest bit worried he went too far, eyeing you closely for any sign of discomfort on your end.

“G-green, green sir. Promise”, you said, lifting your head to look at him from across your shoulder. Your cheeks were red, slightly breathless and tears ran down your face again. His hand went to rub your thigh, silently communicating he accepted you wanting to continue.

“You want me to fuck you now?”, he asked and pressed your hips towards his once more. You shivered when you felt his hard cock against your core, biting your lip and nodding your head.

“Please, just fuck me. Need it so bad”, you couldn’t stop your body from moving on its own, shifting back towards him and feeling the way his length bumped into your clit with every soft grind.

You sobbed at the feel of Leon finally pushing himself deep inside you with one thrust, so wet there was no resistance. He was balls deep, just taking in the way you twitched around him, sighing happily at the feel of having you like this.

“Christ, you feel good. Always so hot and tight”, he grunted to himself, pulling his hips back until he was almost out of you and moved to collide with your body again.

There was no buildup, no teasing, just pure need as Leon fucked you with no restraint. You couldn’t do anything but take him, your bedroom filling with lewd skin-slapping from the way your ass clapped against his hips.

Losing yourself to the pleasure, you fucked back into him, whining into the sheets and growing light-headed from how hard he was moving against you. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix every time he dove back into you, balls smacking into your clit with every shift. He fucked you with reckless abandon, huffing and grunting under his breath. Your wetness dripped down his shaft and onto the bed, the sound of every thrust loud and audible, making your ears burn.

“This all you needed to calm down huh? Just a good fucking pounding”, you didn’t even register his words, too busy focusing on how he was stretching you out.

One of his hands came to curl into your hair again, yanking your face up and having your head against his chest. You knew you were crying now from feeling so good, face flushed and tongue lolling out on your lip.

“Panting like a bitch in heat. My little crybaby”, you hummed at him, agreeing to anything he said because you didn’t want him to stop.

He turned your head to face him then, kissing you hard and you tried your hardest to reciprocate. Swallowing any sound that came out of your mouth, his hand on your hip squeezed even harder, and you knew he was going to leave bruises. Just the thought alone was enough to make the rope of tension in your body wound even tighter.

“Open your mouth”, he ordered you, internally smiling when you parted your lips and stuck your tongue out.

Gathering some spit, he spat directly into your mouth, the glob transferring right on your tongue. He saw how you swallowed and trembled against him from the act he just did.

“Nasty fucking slut. Cry for me as I fuck you senseless”

He pushed your head towards the bed again, pounding into you deeply now and having a hand on your lower spine to deepen your arch. Your hot walls were pulsating around him, growing tighter the closer you got to the orgasm that was snatched away from you. He was ruining you down to the core, your thighs shaking against his and no longer having the energy to meet his thrusts, taking whatever he was willing to give you.

You shrieked when you felt his hands on your clit again, circling the sensitive button and arching into his touch. The bed was shifting underneath you, your fingers holding onto the sheets and releasing a loud wail. Your body was shaking from exertion, not knowing how much more you could take with your release right around the corner.

“C’mon, cum for me. Cum for me so I can fill you up the way you want”

Leon was nice enough to not let you beg for it, his words making that rope of tension finally snap. Mind going blank, you didn’t recall if any sound came out of your mouth as you tumbled over the edge violently. Your skin felt damn near feverish, an electric shock starting from the balls of your feet to the top of your head and exploded into a sense of pins and needles running all over you. If it weren’t for Leon’s hands holding you steady, you would’ve jerked yourself completely off of him.

“Shit, there we go baby, yeah. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gonna watch it spill out”, he was spewing nonsense, determined to fill you up until you couldn’t take anymore.

His rhythm grew sloppy, back hunching over your body and groaning out your name against your ear. Pumping into you a few more times, his cock throbbed as he came with a guttural moan. Curses spilled from his mouth as he painted your insides, not wanting to stop moving against you or leave your wet snatch. He sighed when he finally stopped, giving you an affectionate kiss on the cheek and neck while he came down from his high.

“You still with me?”, you heard him say, only being able to offer him a soft and tired hum.

He pulled out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling and his eyes were right on your pussy. His cum leaked out of you, running down your inner thigh from where your hips were still propped up. He couldn’t stop his thumb from collecting some of it and smearing it over your entrance, another way to show how he’s already claimed you.

Your mind was distant, still coming down from cloud nine as you heard his footsteps grow distant behind you. He came back towards you with a wet rag from the bathroom, cleaning you up as gently as he could knowing you were probably sensitive. Disposing of the rag, he brought you into his arms on the bed, mindful to not smother you and let you breathe.

“I’m sorry baby”, he said to you, kissing your face and bringing you back to him. He wasn’t always that rough with you, preferring to be more loving in bed instead. But when he was like that, you welcomed it nonetheless.

“I’m still in one piece Leon. You won’t break me that easily”, you finally replied to him, nuzzling into his palm as his thumb wiped the tear streaks from the sides of your face. He chuckled then, relieved that he hadn’t done too much.

“Do you feel a little better now?”, you asked him, not needing a verbal confirmation to know he felt more at ease based on how affectionate he was being.

“Yeah, much better. I needed that, thank you”, he placed soft kisses on your lips, happy sighs leaving him. He’ll tell you about his day later on, right now he just wanted to enjoy this moment a little longer.

“I love you”, you told him, knowing that sometimes you had to remind him that you still cared after moments like these.

“I love you too. Are you in the mood for a nap? Because now I’m just tired”

Strong arms brought you closer to him, cuddling into your neck and continuing to kiss your skin. You didn’t object, letting yourself get comfortable in his embrace as the both of you began to doze off.

“You owe me another pair of panties by the way”, you said with your eyes closed, hearing Leon snort against you.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll take you shopping tomorrow so you can buy more. Now shush I’m trying to sleep here”, giving you another kiss on your temple and gently tracing the curve of your back.

You’d do anything for him, and Leon was content to know that you would.

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reds-writings · 10 months ago

Text

if only tonight we could sleep?

the dora lange case had come to a close...but was it really ever over?

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: inspired by getting lost in the sound of the cure's kiss me, kiss me, kiss me album. this is set somewhere in the same world of jealousy, jealousy!. your feedback, as always, is greatly treasured!

word count: around 2.6k

warnings: angst, canon-typical death (mentions of what happens at the Ledoux shootout), nudity (showering together!), cursing, dread, etc (minors go away)

The Dora Lange case had finally been closed once and for all. All the bullshit and danger that had accumulated over all these weeks could finally cease to continue. You’re sure that even within the next twenty something odd years or so when all of this would be well blown over and buried you would never be able to truly process the fucked up-ness of it all.

Your mind was thoroughly numb and all of your limbs ached to no end. You could feel everything you’d endured catching up to you as your body finally allowed itself to let go. Adrenaline and sheer will had been what kept you from fully crumbling during the case’s most crucial and final moments. The shit Rust and Marty decided to pull with that druggie Ginger had already left you worse for wear. Discovering Ledoux and the horrors that were transpiring in that shithole was something you couldn’t let yourself dwell on for too long lest you wanted to find yourself having a complete mental breakdown. Bodies and skulls being blown to bits right in front of you. The sight of rich blood and scattered brain matter sprayed to stain onto your boots. Finding those kids like that…you’d never get over it. One was sentenced to a life of trauma that left her catatonic and the other one deceased. You’d had the naive thought more than once telling you if only we'd all been a bit quicker…

But there was no point in dwelling on all the ifs and maybes. That was a guaranteed one-way ticket to self-induced insanity.

You should feel relief that this is over. The weight of one of the many atrocities committed in the world removed from your down-trodden shoulders. Solved. A monster taken down and put into the earth where he couldn’t return to cause more strife. Why couldn't it feel over? Where was the relief?

You didn’t know much of what Rust and Marty felt on the matter, too busy dealing with keeping your stories straight on just how you all had come across Ledoux’s hideout instead of finding the time to have a heart-to-heart on how much this might’ve permanently screwed with your heads for ages to come. You knew well enough that ending the case like this wasn’t easy for either of them given their respective standpoints when it came to kids. Marty discovered those children and both men had carried them back. Rust had shouldered the burden of carrying that poor boy. A small choice of action that had your heart twisting even more painfully than you thought it already had during it all. The Texan could go on and on about the world being shit and there being no control over the horrors one would be put through trying to live life but you found that it was he who tried the hardest to shield others from said pain and horror whether he was aware of it or not. He cared a lot more about the human race than he let on but it would be more than ineffectual trying to convince him of that particular truth.

Things with Rust had been all over the place since the fiasco of a night you had after the bar as well as any event that followed afterwards: surprise, surprise. The time you’d initially aimed for to really sit down and decipher where it was exactly you saw the two of you headed had found itself slipping away at every possible chance. Neither of you was to necessarily blame, as the nature of your work was in constant demand of your full attention, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

You guys weren’t even truly anything yet and it was already this arduous. What kind of shelf-life did a pairing such as this really have down the line? It was more than likely that acting on any idea of pursuing Rust romantically was destined to never end in your favor. He was your coworker for Christ’s sake. Yes, there was no one else who could probably understand what it is you go through like each other but it was harder to separate other crueler aspects of your lives as well. Everything would get in the way of professionalism. It already had when it came to the showdown with Ginger.

Trying not to let your thoughts go down the usual Rust rabbit hole it found itself in you decided that you’d take the longest and hottest shower you hadn’t had the luxury of taking in weeks. Any extra time you had lately was reserved for quick and cold rinses to keep yourself up and at 'em’. Relaxation in any sense of the word was hard to adjust to after long stretches of work such as these. It was like your body had forgotten how to just be. Nothing was chasing you and there was no clock ticking over your shoulder to mock you that time to get shit done was running out. The empty quiet that followed would never not be unnerving to you. You had nowhere to be and nothing to do.

Where was the fucking relief?

With a huff, you set aside the jack and coke you’d been cradling out on your front porch in the dwindling evening light. The air was more balmy than the stifling hot you’d experienced day in and day out though your skin still held that essence of a humid dew that kept your hair and clothes sticking to you like a second skin. Dusting off your pants you made way to get on up from your depressing reverie only to find the outline of a familiarly limber figure at the end of your driveway. How the hell hadn’t you heard him pull up?

“Are you gonna stand there like a regular ol’ weirdo or get up here?” You feigned nonchalance at his sudden presence but your heart told another story with the quickening pace it decided to adopt.

Wordlessly, Rust ventured his way up the pathway and onto your shabby porch. He eyed the abandoned drink you had by your side so you offered it up to him. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first two buttons of his dress shirt before accepting the silent offering. It took two long gulps before the glass was drained.

There was a heavy silence for longer than what was comfortable. Where could you even start? You didn’t want to catch yourself in an awkward fumble trying to gauge what it was he exactly needed from you as it was clear there was a purpose in him showing up without a warning. The set of his posture made it seem like he was curling in on himself more and more by the minute. He couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye, fearful that it would be his complete undoing. This visible deflation in action made you feel panicked for not knowing what assistance you could offer without having him pull away.

“...D’ya wanna talk about it?”

Rust shook his head softly as if in a daze. His eyes growing glassy and increasingly distant while he stared at your porch’s floorboards.

At a loss, you cleared your throat shakily, “Well I was just about to hop in the shower. You can come inside…hang around if you want. We don’t have to talk or nothin’...o-or we can if that’s what you wanna end up doin’ after havin’ some quiet.”

No reply.

“Well, there’s beers and whatnot in the fridge if you choose. Don’t be shy to helpin’ yourself.” You got up and squeezed his hand gently, warm and calloused like you’d been dreaming about since they held you. That already felt like ages ago. He still made no move.

“I’m here.” Was all you could say and with that, you loosened your grip and headed on inside then upstairs to your bathroom. After setting out some comfy clothes and shedding out of the day’s stiff attire for all the press work that entailed you waited for the shower to reach its desired heat. The person looking back at you in your steadily fogging mirror was almost unrecognizable. Bruises from recent incidents had barely begun to make their way towards the fading process. Skin so sullen and hair even duller. When had you started to look so tired? This beaten down? You felt sorry for anyone who had the displeasure of viewing your walking corpse as of late.

The spray of the showerhead above you was nothing short of heavenly. Any pain and misery melted away to be forever cast down into the depths of the tub’s drain. Your bones felt like lead as you let yourself stand there, waiting to gain the sense of motivation to start washing yourself clean. It could’ve been ten minutes or even ten hours before the sound of the bathroom door clicking ajar had you opening your eyes. The silhouette of the cause of your heart’s aching and beating stood beyond the fogged glass as if at a loss of what to make himself do next. You said nothing, not wanting him to feel as if he was unwanted or on the other hand forced to join you. To expose himself beyond what a casual act of nudity could display already.

It was another elongated moment before you heard the clink of a belt and the rustle of clothes being discarded. You were so far gone that it hadn’t occurred to you he was about to see you at your most vulnerable. He’d witnessed you at some of your lowest, shittiest points but this was crossing into an entirely new territory.

And yet you didn’t feel as scared as you thought you would. You didn’t find Rust to be as judgemental about the physical as he was about the metaphysical.

The shower’s sliding door worked its way open and you didn’t turn around until a few moments after it had closed. The look on his face was similar to the one you’d been subjected to all those weeks ago after the bar. One of true fear. Fear of being seen at his very core. Open and raw. Fear that you’d take this all in and decide to turn him away in disgust or disinterest. Rust’s eyes didn’t wander down any further than your face. He wasn’t here out of primal desire. He needed something…someone…you to help him hold himself together for just this moment. Any and all strength he usually had keeping him upright had escaped him after the weight of everything finally penetrated his psyche.

You found your hand making its way up to his face, tracing dampening tendrils out of his line of sight before cupping his jaw. That empty blue fluttered closed, giving himself a moment or two before completely relinquishing himself to your gentle touch. Your other hand met the other side of his face before you leaned forward to touch your forehead to his. The downfall of water in the small cubicle drowned out any other possible thoughts or worries that could’ve been had in the current moment. There was nothing and no one else that mattered.

One kiss to his nose, then his chin, and finally his trembling lips had large palms come up to rest on the supple flesh of your hips, steadily gripping you as if you’d float away from him. You separated for a moment as his hands traveled up to clutch at your back. Before he could bring you closer you kissed him gently once more before succumbing to his grasp. Settling with leaving barely-there imprints of your mouth on the expansive skin of his chest and neck, your own hands brought themselves up to return his embrace. You felt the soft press of a peck linger on the side of your head as his grip grew a bit tighter. Seconds passed until the subtle shaking of broad shoulders had you clinging to him impossibly tighter. His sobs were not all that audible but the shuddering breaths he’d take in every now and then were more than enough to clue you in on just how much he was hurting. Tears began to burn behind your own eyes as your pain melded with his.

Here you were, just two broken people who gave up all notions of stoicism to completely and utterly crumble in front of each other. Fully at each other’s undeniable mercy.

- - - -

You didn’t know how much more time had passed after holding each other but as the water began to grow more frigid you made haste to help each other wash up. You both stepped out so you could wrap yourself in your own towel before making your way to your linen closet to fetch him one as well as to not have him left wet and cold for too long. With your mind a bit clearer from the emotional release experienced, you finally came to realize the presence of the exceptionally athletic physique in front of you. He seemed to be in the same state of appreciation towards you and you caught yourself feeling hot in the face as you clumsily thrust a towel in his direction.

“You don’t have to be shy in front of me.” His voice sounded raw from lack of use. The first words he’d uttered since he’d come here.

You tucked a wet piece of hair behind your ear, trying to casually meet his stare, “I know. Just didn’t expect us to end up here when you showed up is all. It’s just catchin’ up to me…” The pinch of your chin between long fingers drew you to kiss him again.

“You’re everythin'...and then some.”

You fought a self-deprecating scoff but he said it as if it were the most simplest fact in the world. You had no choice but to believe him.

“Let’s just find you some clothes. I am in dire need of one looong hibernation after everythin’. You too, mister.” You flicked his chest then slinked out of the bathroom. You finished any of the necessary preparations for bed by the time he had wandered into your room. The window you cracked open let in a gentle breeze while the warm glow of the few candles that had been lit danced in the haven you created. Whether you wanted a form of light for the sake of your own comfort or it being done out of some subconsciously innate need to keep Rust out of the dark for the night, you didn’t care to unpack.

Climbing into bed once and for all, you lay facing each other. Letting peace and stillness settle in.

“We did it y’know…it’s over. We can be okay.” You couldn’t help but say. Feeling the need to find something to reaffirm the so-called fact that should’ve been comforting at the end of all this. Anything to soothe underlying anxiety as the heavy shadow of the unknown and incomplete loomed over you. It should’ve been over but Ledoux was but a small piece to a hugely fragmented puzzle. Both of you knew it deep down but hadn’t the strength to confirm it out loud. Afraid to shatter this sense of temporary false security.

This was far from being done and dealt with. From being fully uncovered.

Rust didn’t say anything else as he pulled you into the warmth of his chest. Caging you in with no choice but to surrender to the silent feeling of safety he was trying to provide you. You could only pray that the two of you could make it through anything as you both found yourselves victims to the passing of time and any other trials it had ready for you.

Especially with whatever was waiting for you on the other side of Carcosa.

----

a/n: ahhhh! hurt/comfort is always a guilty pleasure. sorry for the immense dread at the end. i'm thinking of cooking up another fic that draws back to what exactly went down with our trio and ginger if that's something of interest to you all! thanks for reading!

#reds-writings #rust cohle #true detective season 1 #rust cohle imagine #rust cohle x reader #true detective imagine #matthew mcconaughey #true detective

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nanamincreampie · 2 months ago

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Academic Rival Higuruma

Hiromi Higuruma x Black plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, enemies to lovers, mild spice

(part 2 ) ( part 3)

Academic Rival Higuruma who is on a constant mission to outdo you in every major test and exam. Every time he scores higher, he loves rubbing it in. “Looks like I’m still ahead,” he’d gloat, waving his paper around with a smug smirk. And you? You’d curse under your breath, pissed that he beat you by a few points, even though you know you still aced the test.

Academic Rival Higuruma who gets just as salty when you beat him. The way his jaw clenches when he sees your higher grade it’s priceless. “This is such bullshit,” he’d mutter, glaring at his paper, frustrated beyond belief. And you? You’d grin, loving every second of his frustration. “Better luck next time, Higuruma,” you’d tease, watching him struggle with the defeat.

Both of you are captains of the debate team, always working together during practice. Higuruma, who hates how much you fire him up during arguments, watches you with burning eyes as you throw out perfect counterpoints, your confident tone and sharp wit never giving him a break. He’d grit his teeth every time you won a debate, the sound of your voice searing itself into his brain, irritating and… intoxicating.

One day, after a heated debate practice, everyone has left the classroom, but you’re still there, lingering by the desk with that victorious smirk on your lips. Your team had won again, and Higuruma stands by, trying to act unaffected, even though losing to you always stings.

Academic Rival Higuruma who doesn’t expect what happens next. You step closer, your black skin glowing under the fluorescent lights, and you’re absolutely stunning. Your curves full and soft are on display in your tight blouse and skirt that hug every inch of your plumped frame, and he can’t stop staring. Your hips sway when you walk, the smoothness of your dark skin making his throat go dry.

Before he knows it, you’ve backed him into a corner, your body just inches from his, your eyes gleaming with mischief. He tries to stay composed, but the way your chest lightly brushes against his as you close the distance it’s making him lose control. Your presence is overwhelming, the warmth of your body so close to his that it’s driving him insane.

“You look good backed into a corner like this, Higuruma,” you purr, teasingly. You press a hand lightly against his chest, and his heart races under your touch. Your body, the fullness of your curves, and your confidence are too much for him to handle and he hates that you’re making him feel this way.

Academic Rival Higuruma who’s supposed to be calm and collected, is falling apart at the seams. He feels the heat of your body, the way your smooth, dark skin contrasts against his, the press of your thighs against his legs as you lean in even closer.

“Lucky win,” he mutters, but the words come out weaker than he intended. Your exotic beauty and the soft curve of your lips leave him speechless, his gaze locked on your face. He’s trying to stay cool, but it’s impossible with you this close. He can feel the tension, the pull between you two, and it’s killing him.

You lean in, your lips hovering just near his ear. “Maybe you’re just mad because I’m better than you,” you whisper, your breath hot against his skin. It sends a shiver down his spine, and he can barely think straight with you so close.

Higuruma, who’s never been this flustered in his life, feels like he’s unraveling. Your full hips press against him, and he’s overwhelmed by the soft curves of your body, the way your thighs mold against his frame. He can’t stop himself from imagining what it would be like to feel more of you to let go of this rivalry and just pull you closer.

But before he can act on anything, you pull away with that teasing smirk on your face. “Better luck next time,” you wink, brushing a hand over his chest before walking away, your hips swaying as you leave him breathless and dumbfounded.

Academic Rival Higuruma who’s left standing in the corner, heart pounding in his chest, his mind spinning as he watches you disappear out the door. His hand moves to his chest where you’d touched him, and for the first time, he realizes this rivalry is more than just competition it’s you, and it’s driving him insane.

#jujutsu kaisen #x black plus size reader #x black reader #jjk x reader #higuruma x reader #x black fem reader #higuruma hiromi #hiromi x reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk x black!fem reader #jjk x y/n #jjk higuruma #higuruma x you #higuruma smut #higuruma x black reader

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leonardcohenofficial · 1 year ago

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hello i would love to hear your general thoughts re: tenmartha if you feel like sharing them

okay so many thoughts about dr. martha jones and the doctor but one of the main ones is that despite popular (misogynoir-driven) belief, martha's character as written is much stronger than people give the series credit for. i think so much of her very strong character development and arc (based in her growing into her self-sufficiency, which was always there from the start and demonstrated in her constant analysis and questioning in the search for the most info to make the right decisions) is overshadowed by fandom racism, too much focus given to the unrequited crush storyline (which is also key to her arc, but is also something that she very distinctly and importantly gets over!), and general "she's not rose" sentiment. i think it's really interesting that unlike rose or donna whose narrative arcs need them to become super-human, martha essentially becomes the doctor's equal by the end of her run, if not surpassing him given the fact that as a human, she doesn't have those same otherworldly powers as him.

while i think the narrative of season three ultimately lets her come out on top, i think there is a big cost to that, for both martha the character and for the viewers. even separate from fandom racism there are so many moments of racism in the series that i don't think actually do anything to further the storytelling (literally fuck the whole human nature/the family of blood storyline) and that puts a damper on much of that whole year for me despite loving the characters. i also understand why the doctor (via the writers) is constantly comparing martha to rose, but the moments where martha calls him out on it—while they are certainly there—aren't always enough. i think that fact that martha also begins as fairly dependent on the doctor's validation (which like. makes total sense, she has no idea how all this works and is getting thrown into insane scenarios with no info from the jump) gets reduced to calling the character "needy" which just simply isn't true. this is also something that i think people focus on a bit too much rather than seeing how that particular character trait shifts throughout her season.

all this to say, when tenmartha is good, it's fantastic. freema agyeman and david tennant's chemistry is so on point, and that saves a lot of otherwise mediocre-to-bad writing. from the jump martha is shown to be so SO fucking smart, self-reliant, willing to take risk, and uninterested in the doctor's bullshit; when the doctor isn't just whining in the post-rose hangover or treating her like crap, he recognizes how powerful she is AND how much potential she has to continue to hone her skills, which is why he trusts her so inherently and ends up leaning on her so much during that season. the fact that he manipulates her emotionally to me is equal parts hard to watch and based writing-wise in a lot of the aforementioned -isms AND interesting character development from him because we haven't really seen that type of messy fucked up (human) behavior from the doctor. and then martha leaves on her own terms, which no other companion has gotten to do (clara's storyline feels different in that regard to me). she realizes she doesn't need him, arguably becomes his equal (or surpasses him) in terms of skill, and makes it out alive. imho that's a pretty big accomplishment.

#sorry ben this turned into more of an essay than i meant but. i love martha so much!!!!!!!!!#also on the personal note it meant a lot as a kid to see a black companion and i just always liked her #doctor who #martha jones #ten #tenmartha #majorbaby

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crimeronan · 6 months ago

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Camila horror thoughts. In the horrifically fraught family horrors sense of the term.

What if Vee has specifically warned Camila about Hunter, told her all about what he specifically has done in order to give her a heads up, in a way naturally coloured by the views she has (not unreasonably) built up around Hunter because of all the stuff she's done.

So naturally she's got this wariness of Hunter that does not compute when she sees how genuinely caring he is with Luz even if logically she knows people can act remarkably differently in different contexts and none of it negates all the stuff he did with The Basilisks for Belos. But Camila is still pretty sure that Luz doesn't know, and is terrified that if she knew it might destroy something that she is desperately reliant on, her relationship with Hunter. It probably wouldn't, Luz could probably live with that since well horrible nightmare trauma soulmates and by Luz's standards she's done just as bad in a similar context but Camila and Luz keeping secrets for almost the exact same reason (to protect the people they love from horrors they are too insane to be affected by) appeals to me.

But the problem now arises, Camila's told Luz that she has adopted another kid, and Luz in the spirit of trying her best to reach out does want to see Vee or have her visit with Camila next time she comes or something like that since like, thats a normal thing to do on reconnecting with your estranged mother and finding out you have an adopted sister you've never met.

Vee, bless is not going along with that "don't tell Luz how horrible Hunter is since she is hopelessly codependent on him" bullshit at all. Camila knows that, Vee knows that. Camila knows she cannot ethically or reasonably expect Vee to not spill all of Hunter's darkest secrets to Luz in an attempt to ruin his life since, y'know all the stuff he did to her specifically.

For Vee the nicest most compromise-y thing she can do, is just never meet Luz face to face, and thats only because of her respect for Camila. But there's no way Luz isn't going to to notice or be concerned about this so there's this constant ticking time bomb of "when am i gonna meet Vee' since "oh she's off at college" isn't gonna work forever.

god this is all so good. i've been thinking about it since you sent this ask a few hours ago now. bc like. god. there's So Much....

i think you're 100% right that vee would try to stay out of things. she's like mama respectfully i'm ready to meet her IF i'm allowed to scream a lot of pent-up utterly unhinged bullshit but otherwise i think it's best for me not to be involved.

and camila is SUCH a bad liar. if she tried to say that things were fine with vee, luz would clock that something was wrong immediately. she obviously wouldn't jump to "she's from the isles" when there are so many more obvious conclusions -- maybe vee is jealous of luz for being the first daughter camila loved, maybe she's angry at luz for running away, maybe she's sick of luz monopolizing camila's time now when vee is used to having their mom all to herself....

regardless of what luz thinks is most likely, she's definitely like. Ah. I Am Driving A Wedge Between Them. This Is My Fault. On A Personal Level. Somehow.

and then on camila's end, that's even true to a point.... bc vee is getting increasingly more upset by the idea of protecting luz's feelings. i can absolutely see a very tired vee finally having the stress get to her & snapping, "why do you think she'll CARE?? she isn't going to care. even if she's as nice a person as you think she is, it's not like i'm a human or a witch. i'm nothing. she doesn't know how to care about people like me"

...there is, of course, a delicious and vicious irony in that. like. luz Very Much Does Know how to care about someone who isn't a witch or a human.

Oh God.

and then whenever luz meets vee, when it all finally Does come out.... i feel like it would sort of be worse for vee than anything she'd actually braced for. because luz DOES immediately care, she does act like it matters, she immediately wants to know everything and fix everything and make it all better, she immediately takes on all of the responsibility for everything the empire's ever done, she's so sorry, she didn't know, she would have done something, she can do something now--

--and vee is like well. HE knew. and he sure didn't want to help me!! even though i asked him to!! even though he KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING TO ME THE ENTIRE TIME

hunter has wisely remained quiet because he doesn't think he can really defend himself here. and luz has this moment of uncertainty and confusion, and then she looks at hunter's face, and for a second vee thinks that he's just going to straight-up deny it, but he doesn't. and luz seems to understand that it's all true.

and she doesn't look angry. or even betrayed.

and then she's trying to tell vee that hunter was always in danger when they were growing up, that there must have been extenuating circumstances that made rescue impossible, that he would have helped her if he could, that luz KNOWS he would have because he wouldn't just leave vee to suffer for no reason, that's not the kind of person he is,

and hunter is the one to be like luz. stop. she doesn't need to hear that right now. she can hate me. it's fine.

so vee's opinions on luz are like. 1) i hate that you're so nice that i look insane for being angry with you 2) you're a spineless coward who can't hold anyone accountable 3) you've fooled camila into thinking you're some helpless delicate flower by pretending to be sad when you DON'T care 4) if hunter is going to agree with me about anything then i should legally get to shoot him. just like once. i've never touched a gun or had any inclination to do so before today But I Should Get To Shoot Him .

camila's role in mediating this has mainly been to gently steer the conversation into more productive territory when it looks like it might devolve into panic attacks or violence from anyone involved. she's so fucking stressed by trying to keep things from coming to blows that there's like. no Way that she could do a professional-level job of Family Therapy Mediator.

god.

much 2 consider.

#MESSYYYY.#havent reread this but hopefully it is coherent. vibes.#replies #toh #princess luz au #camila noceda #vee noceda #luz noceda #hunter toh #horrible mindscape trauma pals #long post

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americas1suiteheart · 1 year ago

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Sick Days

Lemon and Tangerine x GN! Reader (Platonic)

Summary; You've worked with the twins for years now, and whilst they are sharp and get things done rather well, they do have a tendancy to constantly get eachother, including you, sick.

Notes; Sorry I haven't been very active. I promise I'll get to those asks soon but this popped into my head and I just really needed to write a full fic.

Warnings; Some cursing and mentions of taking over the counter medicine.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

"Achoo!"

"Bloody fuckin'-hell mate, cover your fuckin' mouth when you sneeze," Tangerine scoffs.

The three of you have been sick since your last mission in Bolivia, you're assuming that one of the twins got coughed on or something, because as always--they were the first to get ill.

And just as always, you were the ones to take care of them at first until you finally got ill.

The first week was horrible.

Tangerine's constant bitching and moaning about how he wanted to be back on missions but still complaining about how he felt like shit, that his nose and body hurt, how his throat was sore, and how terrible of a headache he had. Then he would be upset that Lemon was sitting down bundled up on the couch watching Thomas and Friends and how he wouldn't let Tangerine watch his West Ham game on the television.

Lemon wasn't as bad as Tangerine when it came to getting sick though. Lemon only complained once or twice, every now and then but it wasn't constant. Lemon would only ask if you could bring him a pot of tea if you weren't too busy and maybe some blankets. He was content and hell, he'd even admit happy that he didn't have to go on missions for a few weeks.

And then you got sick.

So now its just been constant sneezing, coughing, sniffling, and groaning. The amount of tissues and tea the three of you have been going through is insane, and you're still the one doing medicine runs.

"Piss off mate, I'll do whatever the fuck I want," Lemon says after blowing his nose.

"If either one of you bicker and babble to eachother again I will personally shoot the both of you in the face," You groan.

You hear a grumble and mutter from Tangerine but don't bother with him because it'll only worsen your already terrible migraine.

You walk to the kitchen, grabbing your favourite mug along with some clove and ginger tea, popping the teabag in and pouring the hot water you had just boiled over it into the mug.

"You did it wrong," Tangerine says, a look of annoyance on his face.

"I'm really not in the mood for your bullshit Tan. If you want it done right then you make it yourself you prick," You bite back, proceeding to the living area.

You walk to the couch Lemon was sitting on, one of his legs taking up the whole couch.

Once he looks away from the television and sees you, he removes his leg and opens up the blankets he was under, inviting you to sit with him in his cozy spot, to which you gladly accept.

You sit comfortably next to Lemon, handing him your mug so he can set it down on the tissue covered side table. I'll have to clean that up later, you thought to yourself.

"Feeling any better, y/n?" Lemon asks.

"Sort of. I've still got a god awful headache and my nose is still runny, but its better than I was a couple days ago so the medicine is working at least. How about you?"

"I'm still stuffy but its beginning to slow down now, I'm glad this bloody thing is starting to bug off already," Lemon replies.

"It's my turn on the telly, let me watch th- Achoo! Fuckin' hell!" Tangerine says, a twinge of annoyance in his voice as he complains like a child.

You and Lemon look at eachother, sighing and deciding to let Tangerine watch his game so he stops whining.

"Fine, but only if you promise to stop bitching, okay?" You say, handing Tangerine the television remote and scooting closer to Lemon to make room for him to sit with you two.

"Hey Tan, who's playing West Ham?" Lemon asks, voice still slightly hoarse.

"Man City today, tomorrow its Brentford. Why?" Tangerine responds, eyes glued to the television as he switches it to the correct channel.

Lemon looks at you with a look on his face, then back at Tangerine.

"No reason in particular,"

Manchester City just so happened to be your favourite team. The last time Man City was against West Ham, Man City won. You also happened to be watching the game with the twins that day, and let's just say that Tangerine was not happy that his team had lost and you were happy over it.

It'd been a few years since that game, but you have a feeling that Tangerine would end up being worse than the last time if Man City won again.

Sure, you like it when your team wins, but as of right now you would much prefer it if West Ham won so that way Tangerine doesn't act like a complete bellend. He's easier to anger and agitate now that he's ill.

You all sat on the couch watching the game. Cheers erupted from Tangerine and Lemon whenever West Ham got the ball or made a goal, then a groan of annoyance from Tangerine whenever Man City got the ball or made a goal.

So far it was a 3 - 3 tie with just 3 minutes left of the game, and Tangerine was getting more and more agitated every time Man City took the ball from West Ham.

Once again, Man City taking the ball, then the referee calling over a player and showing them a red card, giving West Ham a free kick for the players offense.

West Ham has the ball now, a free kick. There are 2 minutes left in the game and if they make this shot then the chances of them winning the game are high.

"Bowen takes a free kick, OH MY WORD! A DIRECT FREE KICK GIVING WEST HAM 4 POINTS TOTAL! WHAT A GOAL!"

Cheers and a few coughs come from both Lemon and Tangerine, smiles on their faces. Regardless of their heights, facial hair, voices, jobs even, they still act like children sometimes in both good and bad ways and it makes you smile.

Those last few minutes pass and the game ends, a 4 - 3 score with West Ham beating Manchester City, more cheers erupt from the twins, dopey smiles plastered onto their faces.

Tangerine gets up from the couch to go do something for a minute, leaving you and Lemon sitting on the couch together.

"That was a good game eh? Man City is pretty good too, I'm surprised we even won," Lemon says to you, covering himself back up with the blanket he was sharing with you.

"Great game really! I'm a little bummed though I will admit, but honestly one loss is better than Tan being a prick the entire day," You roll your eyes.

You get up from your cozy spot on the couch and head to the kitchen island, which had a plethora of medicines, syrups, a humidifier, and assortments of teas.

Cough syrup, Tylenol tablets, throat soothing sleepytime tea, chamomile tea, lemon scented vapor rub, allergy syrup, and a new, unopened three pack of tissue boxes.

You groan at the thought of having to drink the terrible tasting allergy and cough syrup again.

"Lem! Tan! Have you guys taken your medicines yet?" You call out to the twins, seeing as Tangerine had just returned to the living area.

Groans emit from the both of them as you give a light chuckle.

The two walk to you, tangerine grabbing the three cups for the syrups, all of your names on one of them to designate which belonged to who.

You pour the cough syrup into your cup at the 120 ml line, holding your nose as you down it to try and get rid of some of the taste, then doing the same with allergy medicine. You open the bottle of Tylenol, grabbing two of the tablets and popping them into your mouth.

You take a gulp of water from your glass then wipe your mouth.

"I'm gonna go into my room and nap, take one of these tissue boxes with you," You say, opening the pack and grabbing a box of tissues for yourself to have.

You walk to your room, opening the door and placing the tissues onto your bedside table, taking one out and blowing your nose, then tossing it into your small trashcan.

You lay in your bed, covering yourself with your blankets and sinking into your mattress.

God I hope I feel better soon.

You fall into a slumber, happy to be resting after nothing but bickering and loud cheers all day.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Sorry this took a little longer, I wasn't really planning to post it two days ago but tumblr freaked out and did it anyway even though it still wasn't finished, but it is now! I'm trying to post these fics more often and hopefully be more consistent about it. Requests are still currently closed and I'll try to get to the ones that were sent months ago.

#tangerine bullet train #lemon bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #lemon x reader #tangerine x reader #brian tyree henry #fluff #gender neutral reader #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #atj #atj x reader #brian tyree henry x reader

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blackenedsnow · 2 months ago

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Can I rq a hc of P4 dude having a super calm s/o with a smile on their face? Like they are used to the chaos whether it dude causing it (they don't judge the man, they love him so much) or wackiness of edensin.

funny if s/o can fight back in a brutally yet still be uphased and smiling like "hun, you think we can get lunch?" (I love p4 dude so much)

p4 dude with a calm s/o headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Postal (4) Dude x Reader

NOTE: EAAHH THANK YOU

No matter what kind of shit Dude stirs up—you’re always there with a serene smile,

Like it's just another day

Nothing fazes you, and it amazes him how you handle it all so easily.

While some might judge Dude for his more questionable actions, you don’t.

You just smile and give a casual

“Do what you gotta do, hun,”

Before going about your day like it’s perfectly normal

You love him just the way he is

When things get rough, you don’t hesitate to throw down.

But what freaks people out the most isn’t how brutal you can be—it’s how calm you are while doing it.

It’s like you’re having a casual stroll in the park.

After a particularly brutal fight, you’ll wipe the blood off your hands with a smile, turn to Dude, and ask, “You think we can get lunch soon?”

Your chill demeanor never cracks, no matter how intense things get

. Dude loves this about you, and he finds it kinda hot, too.

Dude’s unpredictable lifestyle meets your calm, unshakeable energy in a perfect blend.

Somehow

While he’s used to wild things happening all the time, it’s nice for him to have you as his constant.

Your calmness balances out his stupid bullshit, but you’re always ready to dive into the so called stupid bullshit when needed.

Through everything, you support him without question.

You’ve seen Edensin at its wildest, you’ve witnessed Dude at his lowest, and none of it scares you off.

He often wonders how he got so lucky to have someone like you, someone who loves him without judgment and never falters, no matter how insane things get.

Whenever things get a little too wild, or he’s feeling the weight of his actions, you’re there with a hand on his shoulder, reminding him that everything’s gonna be okay.

Just a simple smile from you, and it’s like the world calms down—at least for a moment.

#postal 4 #postal 4 dude #postal dude #postal #postal 4 dude x reader #p4 #p4 dude #p4 dude x reader #postal dude x reader #x reader #ask #request #fanfic #headcanons

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harcove · 1 year ago

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Stargazer - B.H.

a/n not a request, because... idk man, i have so many things im in the middle of writing for billy rn, and i had this one in my noggin for a while because i swear i remember somewhere dacre said smthing about it would be cool to see another side of billy- like with a girl just... in a field- cuties. or maybe... i made that up in my head besties idk, but here u go

length: 2.6k

pairing: billy x reader

warnings: no; mention maybe of billy's father and to trauma/abuse. maybe badly written billy im not too confident with this one lmao

summary: billy and you sneak into the hawkins high school football field and look at the stars

The air outside was considerably cooler than it had been during the day, and even then it had already been rather nippy out. The autumn air crisp as the months crawled slowly towards December, towards winter. Maybe a bit chilly for you to be laying in an open field in the middle of the night, but Billy Hargrove didn't seem to care; especially not when he was the one who snuck the two of you into Hawkins High schools football field.

You weren't even sure you had a football team. It was used for soccer and running track. It would be better to refer to it as a soccer field.

"Goddamn it's fucking cold," Billy grumbles, as he jumps down the fence, watching as you take the easier route (for you at least); the small hole that the school had yet to repair in the fencing in a bottom corner; too small for Billy to fit through, but just big enough you could wriggle your way through, "mind reminding me why I agreed to this bullshit?"

"I dunno," the smile is evident in your voice as you finally end up on the right side of the fence, picking yourself up off the dirt ground as Billy looks down at you, hands in his pockets. You use his bent arm to pull yourself up and you can feel the way he stiffens his body to compensate for the weight of your pulling, so neither of you fall, "But it's really not that bad."

"Not that bad?" his brows raise almost comically, and he blinks; his bright blue eyes looking at you like you're insane, "Not that fuckin' bad, huh?"

He breathes out, a bit harsher on purpose, and a plume of air appears in front of the two of you. It's just cold enough that your breath can be seen in front of you, like tiny little clouds of mist; a constant and subtle reminder that the seasons were close to changing once more, Autumn would soon blend into Winter.

Also, a constant reminder for Billy that he was no longer in California.

The sudden thought put a damper on his mood and it was visible in his body language and facial expressions. Billy Hargrove was so much more of an open-book than he realized sometimes. When it came to emotions like anger, or hatred, they showed themselves like black ink on a white page; strikingly. They were two emotions that coincided with one another; and they were the emotions he felt most often and most deeply. Being sad was weak (his father really beat that into him, physically and metaphorically) and being happy? He wasn't sure he could feel happy anymore. Too much anger. Too much hatred.

But then, when he looks at you, everything felt less harsh- his chest doesn't feel as heavy, his body isn't as on fire from a rage deep within; and there is something there. Something that maybe could be happiness. If he let it build, if he worked on it. If he just let it happen.

Easier said than done.

You can feel the way Billy slips away from the moment, noticing the way the dirty blonde sunk deeper into his own head, his face losing any of it's previous sarcasm and maybe even slight amusement, you clear your throat. Better than touching him, because you can't really be sure where his thoughts are in these moments exactly, and you'd seen more than enough to know what his father is like.

"Yeah, not that bad," you repeat, a sly smirk graces your lips as you walk backwards from him, taking big steps to reach the wide open field, your eyes adjusted to the darkness at this point, "you're just being a baby."

Mission successful. Even at the distance you've created between the two of you, you can see the way his face morphs. It's not anger, not like some might think it would be at being called a name; it's light-hearted when you say it, and only you can say it. He'll get back at you. He always does. Sometimes sooner rather than later; and now it's sooner.

The sound that comes from his lips isn't exactly a laugh, it's more of a scoff; a laugh of disbelief as he watches you get further away. His tongue juts out, wetting his lips, a slight shake of his head; eyes zoning in on you perfectly.

"Baby?" he sounds defiant, mock-angry. You just shrug your shoulders, shouting back at him, 'yeah' before waving your arms in the air, "You're fuckin' asking for it."

Billy is fast. He would be, considering how he likes to work out and stay fit; his place on the basketball team for Hawkin's high school shines through in moments like this where he starts running towards you; in turn you turn to face forward, starting to run yourself towards the centre of the field. It's a futile effort to run from Billy Hargrove. He's always going to catch you. He's fast. And he doesn't let up.

You squeal when he suddenly grabs you, slamming his body into your own with his arms around your middle, picking you up with easy and throwing himself onto the ground with you to boot. The laughter bubbles up in your throat as you try to catch your breath, winded and filled with adrenaline. You can hear it before you see it; the laugh from him, the smile in his laugh. It's not a laugh like yours, one that is full-bodied and hard to catch your breath too- it's more like a burst of laughter that he brings back down to control. But it's still a laugh.

You've heard it before. But never like this. He's laughed when he's been angry, he's laughed but it's been fake and calculated. But now he laughs and it isn't thought out beforehand. It isn't in disbelief or anger.

His strength and heavy-handedness is only amplified when he tosses you off him from where he took the brunt of his purposeful fall to the ground, quickly flipping you over without much time for you to think about what's happening. It's only when he's hovering over you with a hand digging into your hip- not enough to hurt you, but enough to know damn well it's there.

"Now," he breathes out, his warm breath a stark contrast from the crisp autumn night, "What was it you called me...?"

Mischief swims in your eyes as you stare directly into the prettiest blue you think you've ever seen. Everything about Billy is pretty. He is so beautiful, in every way, but he hates when you say that. He prefers words like hot, or sexy. But he can't hide his red tipped ears when you say he's beautiful or pretty.

He deserves to know he's not just some object for women to oggle at. He's a beautiful human being. He's Billy.

"Ba...by," you huff out, still trying to catch your breathe. The rise and fall of you chest makes contact with Billy's, showing just how close he is to you right now.

His lips crash onto yours. Hungry. Heavy. Angry? No... Needy. But also, vengeful. If you weren't already winded, you are definitely winded now as all thoughts escape you; the need to breathe becoming a secondary thought. Why breathe when you have him? He makes you feel alive. He makes all the bad things in Hawkins just... Stop. Like the stars in the sky, he may disappear, he might go away for some time but he's still always there. He's...

He bits into your lip.

It elicits a muffled cry from you as you push against his chest, his mouth leaving yours.

And he has the audacity to look at you, mock-confusion on his face, breathing much more normal paced compared to your own. It makes you wanna pinch him. But you don't, instead you settle on glaring at him in the dark.

"Someone's being a baby," he throws it back at you with ease, rolling off you when you push him off. To be fair, you didn't have the strength to push him off, he's just giving you one by rolling off of you anyways. A thump when he hits the grass beside you.

Pouting is useless since he can't even see it now that he's looking at the sky, but you do it anyway. It's the principle of the thing you suppose.

It's quiet. The only sound being a cricket here or there, and the sound of your breathing mixed with his own. Your finally able to regulate your breathing and bring it back to normal. You wish you had a drink, but that's not a big deal for now. The cool air entering your lungs feels good, a balm to the burn from your previous silliness.

"At least your warm now, right?" You offer up the words after a few more beats of silence.

He snorts.

"There's better ways to get warm and stay warm."

You know what he's implying and you hit his shoulder softly with your fingers.

"No. Not in public."

He doesn't respond to that. He really would do anything with you right there, but contrary to what others seemed to believe, he was rather respectful of your boundaries when it came to these things. That didn't mean he wasn't going to tease you.

"Can't believe I'm with a goddamn prude. Its the middle of the damn night."

Like that.

"It's not being a prude!" You focus your attention on the sky, "now just... Look."

He lets out a heavy breath.

The reason you wanted to come out here in the first place. The night sky, filled with stars.

Hawkins wasn't a big city or more populated place like California, it was a small town. Light pollution wasn't really a thing here as it would be in big cities. You took it for granted till you visited your aunt and uncle one year in New York, where the light pollution was rampant. Seeing a star there was nigh impossible.

But Hawkins? The sky was littered with so many little stars, stars you could see perfectly. You could make out some and the vast dark that went on forever. It made you feel oddly melancholic. Sometimes you wished you could reach up, touch them, and join them up there. So small in the grand scheme of things. A reminder of just how large the universe was. Just how... Insignificant you were in the grand scheme of things.

And that was okay. Sometime, you need to be reminded that you're just one person in a world of billions, you're small, and not everything needs to be on your shoulders.

You wanted Billy to feel that. Feel the weight of the world drift away as the stars reminded you, you're only human. Just a small, little human.

"That's the big dipper," you reach your arm up to point at the cluster of stars forming the measuring cup like shape in the sky, "I only know it because it was the only one I could find when I was a kid."

"Still the only one you can find?"

"Uh, no," you matter-of-factly say, moving to point towards another cluster, "there's the little dipper."

"Damn," he mocks, "the little one too?"

You giggle, wiggling closer to Billy's side, seeking his warmth and just his presence in general.

"Still don't get why we couldn't do this when it's warmer. I'm not giving you my damn jacket, you still haven't given me back the other fucking one."

That's true. But he doesn't complain too much. You always bring it back to him, and it somehow always ends up back with you anyways.

"Because, you can see the stars better when it's colder."

"Bullshit," you see his breath when he speaks, "That's the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard."

"No its not!" You don't actually know that. You just said it, because you've always found you see the stars the best when it's colder. Maybe it's because you usually look up at the sky most during this time of year, when the sky darkens so much quicker than in the summer.

Once more, the conversation lulls to a stop, it's a easy silence that settles between you, one that feels comfortable and safe. Something about being with Billy feels safe, it always does. You can only hope that it's the same for him; that being with you is a safe place for him. Or someday, it will be.

He deserves at least one person, one place, in his life that's safe.

You wriggle close enough to the man that you can rest your head on his shoulder and you do so with ease, but you can feel his shoulder stiffen for a moment before it relaxes. It's just you. He's fine with you.

Much to your pleasure he moves the arm of the shoulder you placed your head on out from beneath you, snaking it around your shoulder to force you closer to him with a single tug. It brings you close enough to Billy that your practically on top of him. When you settle yourself comfortably, one leg hiked up across his torso, with your body pressed against his side and your head close to his heart- his hand leaves your shoulder and travels to your waist. He squeezes the flesh on your hip, causing you to jump slightly.

You know he enjoys how you react.

And you like how it feels.

Laying there, beside him, felt right. It felt like this was where you were meant to be. The cold air didn't matter, the hard grass beneath you didn't change anything. It felt so cliché, to lay under the stars beside a handsome boy- the quote en quote bad boy, as if there was nothing else in the world but the two of you.

You really felt you could stay there forever. Be with him forever.

"You fallin' asleep?" When he speaks you feel the vibrations from his chest, "you fall asleep, your on your damn own."

He doesn't mean that. You know that, he knows that. You breathe in his cologne, savouring it before releasing a long breathe.

"I'm not... I'm just," you pause, voice quiet, strikingly different to how it had been before when you were running from him as a joke. If it wasn't so quiet already, your voice may have been carried away with the wind, "Happy."

You aren't surprised when at first, Billy has nothing to say to that.

Billy is turning this over in his head. Happy. You were... Happy. Happy to be there with him, happy to lay on a dirt and grass in the middle of the night with him. Happy. You were happy.

He didn't think he could make anyone happy. That anyone could be happy with him. It was scary. It scared him; how long could he keep that going? How long till something happened, till he did something and ruined everything. Before he ruined your happiness; ruined you. Was it selfish for him to keep you with him, even knowing that he could ruin everything? Was it unfair to want to have you despite his own fears and issues... Maybe, but Billy Hargrove did not care.

He'd be as selfish as he damn pleased.

"A prude, and a goddamn crackpot. At least you're easy to please."

You swear you can hear a soft edge in his voice as he speaks, even if it's hard to catch, like it's barely there. But you can hear it. You pull yourself closer to him, if it's even possible to do at this point.

Yeah, you think, you could stay there forever with him. And he thinks, maybe he could too.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #mine #antis dni #amy writes #my writing #hhhhh i struggled with billy this time for some reason im sorry yall

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