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textmel8r · 3 months

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[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( tenth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , profanity , prostitution , drug and alcohol abuse , smut , allusions to hypersexuality , bisexual! toji

୨୧˚ an; okay there is seriously something wrong with my ability to tag people, certain blog names don’t come up when i search them it’s pissing me offfff SO SORRY if you’re on the tag list and you didn’t get tagged😣

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

Thunderous bangs against his apartment’s front door rouse Toji from comatose. He wakes with a sharp inhale, eyes screwing shut because the sunlight that flooded through the bars of his dusty blinds singed his retinas. There’s a beat of silence, one that makes Toji believe his guest has walked off, and he cuddles back into the sofa with solid intentions of returning to dream state, however those plans go up in flames when more aggressive knocking chimes. The man groans, fingers clawing into the scrappy throw pillow his face is currently buried into.

“Fuck off!” Toji growls. His voice is muffled and crackling with excess exhaustion. He is so not in the mood for company right now.

“Fushiguro cut the shit, I’m not playing with you today.” Ugh, that voice. “Open the damn door, don’t make me bust it down.”

More pounding, and the rusty hinges creak from the pressure of it. Given no other choice, Toji peels himself off his crappy little couch and sits for a moment, dragging a heavy hand down his face. There’s a half empty can of Coke perched on the coffee table, amongst a plethora of other trash, and Toji snags it. It’s lost carbonation, totally flat and lukewarm, but it satiates his thirst good enough.

The knob twists, clinking against the lock impatiently. “Untwist your panties, I’m comin’,” He barks before muttering Jesus Christ under breath. It’s no surprise to see Shiu Kong when he draws open his door, standing erect with his arms crossed in irritation. Toji scowls, “what do you want?”

Shiu knocks shoulders to his when he grants himself entrance, much to Toji’s chagrin. “So you are alive?”

“Still kickin’, yeah.”

Shiu stands in the middle of the living room, flitting over the unkempt scene. It’s a mess, littered with crushed cans and hollowed take-out boxes and dirty laundry. Heavy glass bottles lined the floor near the sofa, some filled halfway with translucent, amberish liquid, some bone dry. “I see you been busy,” the man inquired, sarcastic as all Hell.

Toji sighs. “Yep.”

“You should crack a window or something, man. It reeks like the inside of a flask in here.”

“I’ll do that,” no he won’t, “what do you want?”

Shiu scoffs at his gall, but Toji wants him out of his place as soon as possible. He knows why his handler has come to visit, it’s most likely a work thing. Fuck work. Fuck Shiu for barging in and interrupting his afternoon nap. Fuck his apartment for being embarrassingly filthy.

“You’ve been ducking my calls. I don’t appreciate that.”

“Y’know, most people would take that as a sign to fuck off.”

“I’m not most people, though, am I?” He takes a seat on the couch. Toji doesn’t follow suit, choosing to stay leaned against the wall. “I’m technically your superior.”

“You think that title means jack to me?”

Shiu ignores the attitude; he’s used to taking shit from Toji for the better part of a decade now. “It should.” Silence cuts in, and he leans down to pluck one of the thick bottles off the floor by its neck. Liquor sloshes around in the constraint of glass, and Shiu holds it up to the light and skims the label. “This is cheap shit.”

Yeah, it was stupid cheap. Toji swiped it off the clearance rack at the gas station around the corner from his complex. They started tagging the alcohol, made it more difficult to steal, so he exclusively bought the least expensive liquor he could find. “Don’t gotta be smooth. Don’t gotta be much of anything, s’long as it fucks me up.” He didn’t drink rum on a Thursday at 3:42 pm for the taste.

Shiu hums, looking oddly unnerved. Still holding the bottle, he jerks it up in a slight gesture. “What’s the occasion?” Followed by an awkward chuckle. Toji itches the base of his scalp, pushing down his bed hair.

“Dunno.”

He was just sort of… regressing. Backsliding into the open arms of his beloved vices. Day drinking again, sloshing himself into liquor-induced unconsciousness that puts him to sleep for days. He starts hitting the casinos more frequently, tapping into poker games and betting away money he doesn’t have because the adrenaline of it all is orgasmic. Drugs have weaved themselves back into Toji’s routine as well; he’s been snorting the pricey shit that gets him numb in the face and leaves that nasty taste dripping in the back of his throat. Shit he hasn’t fucked with since his wife’s death.

Well, he supposes he’s always been like this. Clinging onto some sort of substance to distract himself from the pain of being alive in a Zenin’s body, no matter how damaging or problematic it may be. His childhood looms over him, even as a grown man, and it’s so terribly pathetic to still be hung up on shit that happened over two decades ago. But he apologetically is. Toji is a pathetic, woeful piece of shit who is forever haunted by memories.

Distractions. They weren’t always mutilating. Not all of them tore apart his body and soul. Sometimes, they were beautiful.

His tongue twitches in his mouth, aching to curl around a cigarette.

Shiu huffs, setting the bottle back down near his feet. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Toji nods curtly, licking at his dry lips. “I’m straight.”

“Right,” his handler responds slowly, entirely unconvinced. “You’ve been skimping out on your assignments. It’s fucking me over, Fushiguro.”

Toji hasn’t taken up a job in nearly three months. Not since the night he left your place and walked home in the pouring rain. It was funny—he hadn’t thought it was a bluff when you threatened to call the police. No, Toji expected his apartment complex to be swarmed with officers when he returned but… nothing besides crickets. That night was seared into his frontal lobe, every motion engraved and vivid behind his eyes. Still soaked to the bone, he melted into the couch and stared up at his water-damaged ceiling for hours before slumber pulled him into its embrace.

Toji hasn’t slept in his bed since.

“Oh, so that’s why you came to visit. Boss is cuttin’ your pay with me gone.” Toji smiles bitterly, then juts his lower lip out in a mock pout. “Aww, that must be so hard for you, I’m sorry. You can cry about it on the ride home in your fucking Bentley.”

“Hey asshole, this isn’t just a me thing. Your slacking affects both our paychecks.” Shiu rakes a hand through his gelled do, and Toji is acutely aware of the luxury watch glinting on his wrist. “I mean, shit, where have you even been getting your cash from lately? How have you been keepin’ the lights on in this shithole?”

That last question is a mystery to Toji, as well. Truth is, he hasn’t put a penny towards rent since he came back. Eviction was inevitable, he’d ride out the days he had left and then figure out what to do when he received his week’s notice. Only that pink slip of paper never appeared taped to his door. Surely, you weren’t still covering it… Not with the way you and him ended terms so roughly… But what the fuck else could it be? Toji wanted to ask you about it; wanted to use this entire situation as an excuse to contact you, but he couldn’t muster up the courage and resolve. Talking to you again sounded so fucking sweet, but so, so fucking painful.

Toji didn’t answer, and Shiu grimaced at his quietness. On the couch, Shiu shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward to rest his elbows over his thighs. “You’re not,” he struggles for a moment to find the words, squinted eyes drilling holes into Toji’s. “Tell me you ain’t whoring again.”

Sex was Toji’s grimiest form of escapism. He started fucking other people again.

Mostly women, with a few men sprinkled in between. Gender was irrelevant; genitalia didn’t matter much to him in the grand scheme of things, Toji only fucked casually for the sensation of a warm body to hold onto. Vying for satisfaction with a partner, competing for release; it became a damn near nightly procedure at this point. Scouring bars in the dark hours for any willing participant, then fucking one out in the filth of the public restroom. His sweaty back against the stall, or him seated on the lid of a toilet. It was gross, he was gross.

Again, Toji is silent, and it speaks volumes. “God, man.” Shiu holds his face, pinching his brow bone, maneuvering the muscles in his jaw. He doesn’t sound angry or annoyed, just disappointed, and it makes Toji feel unnaturally immature; like he were a child again, getting a scolding from the family’s housekeeper for accidentally knocking the vase at the center of his dining table over and shattering it on the ground. “That’s—you can’t be doing this again.”

“Yeah well I don’t exactly got the resume for a nine to five, now do I?” He was forever tainted by his past. No employer in the country would hire a man with four jail sentences, drug misdemeanors, battery charges, no education, no work experience… the list of Toji’s fuck ups could fill a dictionary front to back.

“You cannot go back to that.” Shiu looks pale in the face. I’m making him sick to his stomach.

“Money is money. Don’t hear you whining when you got me playing assassin for you, but God forbid I suck a coupla’ cocks for cash.” Toji pushes off the wall and stalks towards the tiny kitchenette on the far side of this cramped living space; this conversation is irritating him, he needs something to quell his cotton mouth. “Fix your morals, then we can talk.”

Shiu’s argument was mind numbingly idiotic. Comparing slaughter to sex for money, the absurdity nearly made Toji burst out laughing. Sex never killed anyone.

He’s rooting around in the fridge. It’s practically bare, housing nothing more than a few take out boxes and some lager, but that’s alright. Toji tears a can of beer from the plastic six-pack ring, and when he pops out from the refrigerator, Shiu stands there with his hip against the small counter. “You’re self-destructing.”

The can cracks open. Beer carbonation pops and hisses. “Am I?” Toji sniggers, tossing back a swig. Shiu’s eyes flit to the beverage, nose wrinkling. Toji catches on and nods to the kitchen sink. It’s full of dirty dishes. “Faucet’s fucked. Water’s full of lead. This is the only drink in the house and I’m thirsty, so hop off.”

“You’re self-destructing,” Shiu repeats once more, not matching Toji’s humorous lilt. “I’m serious, Fushiguro. You’re off.”

“What do you want me to say to that besides fuck you?”

It grows quiet again. The air is warm and thick and rife with apprehension; it presses on Toji’s chest like a sleeping cat. “So what?” Finally, Shiu speaks. “That’s it?”

He shakes his head contentedly. “That’s it.”

“You understand this is going to be Hell for me from now on. You’re the best hired gun on my roster, the boss is gonna have my ass if you quit.”

Toji takes a long sip of beer. “You’re tough. You can handle it.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Shiu breathes, but there’s no real malice behind his words. “If you’re really serious about quitting, then fine. Fucking fine, I’ll—” He groans, massaging his temple, “I’ll handle it. But I’m telling you, this is the best it gets for guys like us.”

The best it gets is killing men. Leaving wives widowed, leaving kids fatherless. “Can’t be.” Toji feels nauseous at the thought. “There’s gotta be more.” There has to be. It’s the only affirmation that stops him from knocking back the whole bottle of vicodin in his bathroom medicine cabinet and calling it a night.

“This is how the world works. This is us being punished for being shitty people.”

Toji doesn’t have anything to say to that. He refuses to acknowledge it.

Shiu rubs at his nape, pushing off the counter. “Look, I only dropped by to get on your ass for playing hooky, wasn’t exactly expecting… all of this. But, uh,” despite their expansive acquaintanceship with one another, they never really got a hang of the whole sentimental bit. Shiu tries for a moment, mouth opening and closing a few times as the words die on his tongue, before finally settling on a long exhale through the nostrils. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, squaring his shoulders. “Just stay safe, would ya?”

Toji salutes lazily. “Aye aye.”

Shiu ducks his head in a wide nod. “Good, good. And uh, you got my number. So use it if you need to.”

Toji can tell that Shiu is trying to dole out formalities in the most unconventional way possible, so he helps him out by chuckling. “Get the fuck outta my house already.” Then, he drains the last few ounces from his can before crushing the aluminum in his fist, tossing the litter carelessly to the floor. He’ll get it later. Or not. Probably not.

“Yeah, okay.”

The hotel room is pitch black, not even the moonlight reaches through the window. Toji stumbles through the door first, dragging another person in by the waist. He kicks it shut with the heel of his boot. A woman—mid 20’s, pretty, about two heads shorter than Toji so he’s forced to crane his neck uncomfortably low when they kiss. Some random he found off an anonymous hookup app he downloaded, a consenting body three miles away for him to use. They coordinated a time and place—midnight at this shitty motel—which brings us to the present.

“Wait—” She struggles to speak in between wet kisses, patting Toji's bicep. “Wh—get the lights.”

He shakes his head. “Leave them off.”

Humidity stickied the air, clinging to his skin alongside sweat. He was coming down from something—some upper he popped hours prior to this—and because of that, a thin tremble rattled in his bones gliding through marrow. It’s so hot. He’s hot everywhere. It almost hurts, the heat.

She doesn’t put up much of an argument and takes his bruteness like a champ. Let’s him hoist her up and jerk her onto the stiff motel mattress, its blankets coughing a plume of dust into the atmosphere when their weights fell upon it. The scratchy comforter reeked of mildew and clawed back at the jagged callouses sitting in the divots of Toji’s weathered fingers when he grabbed handfuls of bedding.

He finds himself drafting comparisons in the moment, as he often did. Comparing his present to a better time; when he wasn’t slutting himself out to strangers for a fix of warmth or money, in this case the former. Your bed—God, no not tonight, he shouldn’t be devoting another night to you—smelled of a sweet concoction; your perfume, your laundry detergent, your shampoo, just you. There was no catching or pulling at his marred hands when he clawed at your bedsheets, no, the satin was gentle on his most rough parts.

“How do you want me?”

Toji blinked in succession, snapping back to cold reality. It was easy to lose himself in his delusions, muddying the lines between his dreamscape and actuality. Maybe the liquor finally seeped into his brain and this was neurosis’s way of knocking at the door. What a hilarious thing to think about. Toji slips a hand beneath her back and maneuvers the smaller body himself.

“Hands and knees.” He doesn’t want to look at her face.

Neither of them had even bothered to undress—this truly lacked all semblance of intimacy. Hands reach behind herself to inch suffocating denim down past the shelf of her ass, Toji thumbs down his own waistband just past the half-mast erection he sported. Everything felt robotic, it was a wonder he could even get hard in such a lifeless domain.

“You brought a con—”

“Yes,” he responds pointedly, eager for the talking to cease. He didn’t care to hear the whispers of a strange woman asking about whether or not he had protection on him. Of course, he had one. It goes quiet again. In the dark, dank air Toji kneels behind a wet, willing hole and yet all he can think of is you when he stroked himself to total hardness.

“Are you kidding me?” You gawked at him, disbelief evident in the obtuse look you gave him. He was splayed out on your kitchen tiles, ducked back beneath the sink, working at the drain pipe with a rubber-gripped wrench. His ass ached from sitting on hard floors for too long, back groaned under the pressure of being bent backwards, neck stiff and knotted thanks to the awkward tilt he was forced to wear, but seeing the awe scribbled on your face made the pain dull. “I had two handymen take a look, neither of them could find the issue. But you just knew exactly what to do.”

He had to laugh at the ridiculousness. “You’ve just got yourself a fucked supply line. Ain’t rocket science, I’ll get you right.” Toji slips out from the cupboard, looking up from the floor through pin straight bangs. Scratching a brow with his thumb nail, “you hired a couple of idiots.”

You retort in a groan, unable to thrum up a defense. “I’m the real idiot, I suppose. You think they were just trying to scam me or what?”

“Probably.” Back under the sink he goes, wedging the wrench around the circumference of the pipe. Toji’s forearm tenses with each crank of the tool, and he doesn’t stop until the bolt is fastened as tight as his strength can manage. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

Though he can’t see your face at the moment, Toji hears your sheepish smile wrapping around each word. “My hero.” The sarcasm was eminent, tongue-in-cheek and you nudged his foot with your own. He kicks you back, heel to your bony ankle. “Hey!” You’re laughing now.

“Don’t get smart.” The drain pipe is secure, and he’s satisfied with his labor. Toji pulls himself to his feet, flicking the stainless steel lever on the sink’s tap with a knuckle. Crystal clear water flows out evenly from the faucet, collecting in a puddle at the basin, swirling down the drain. “Watch, look,” Toji points with his toe to the pipe under the cabinet, and he can’t quell the lofty smirk that tugs at scarred lips when there is no leakage. A successful repair; you look astonished for lack of a better word, and it gives the man a strange swell of pride hanging in his belly.

He did that. He was useful to you in a way he hadn’t been useful to anyone in a long while. He didn’t have to kill, didn’t have to fuck; fixing a leaky kitchen sink seemed beyond good enough for you. Foolish.

“I’m impressed.” You turn to him. “Thank you, Toji.”

You blathered on some more, speaking such things of how generous you planned on being in return. Something about money in exchange for the service, but Toji wasn’t really listening past your declaration of gratitude. It was just straightforward plumbing work of the most basic level, and yet you thanked him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“Sure. It was no problem.” And he smiled back.

That did it. He’s stiff, cock cradled in his fist with nothing less than a bruising grip. The condom was pre-lubricated and slick with odorless oil. Toji went through the practiced motions—hooking the ringed entrance over himself, pinching the tip of the condom, rolling it down to sheath every inch.

“Oh,” she gasped, lurching forward at the feeling of Toji’s head sliding up and down between her legs. Between her folds. She’s wet for him. Hips whined back into his groin with avidity. “Put it in.”

He slaps her with an open palm, connecting with an asscheek. She moans again and reaches back to paw at Toji’s navel with blunt nails. Free from any of that fancy acrylic stuff.

This time around was torturously similar to every other fuck he’s had in recent date. Everything is fast-paced and unforgiving, leaving not much room for anything else. Toji fucks to forget. He fucks to remember, too.

“Y/n,” he groans shamelessly. There’s a muffled reply, but it’s murky and muffled and unable to be understood because Toji had taken the humble liberty of holding his conquest’s face into the flat, fluffless pillow. He doesn’t care for a response, to be corrected or called a piece of shit for being so inconsiderate as to not remember her name. It was Mandy, he wants to say. Maybe Maddy? Who gives a fuck.

“That’s rude, you know.”

Toji pouts theatrically, forcing his bottom lip out in a way that has you playfully rolling your eyes. In his hand, a bundled ball of blanket that he’d stolen from you and hoarded to his side of the sofa. “Aww, I’m sorry.”

You sigh, throwing him a scathing glance. “No, you’re not.”

Movie night, or so you said. Sitting in the lonesome of your quiet penthouse just the two of you, watching some new finance documentary that just dropped on Netflix. It sounded absurdly boring to Toji, but you’d been keen on hyping it up all week long, offering him an invitation to view it together. Really, Toji couldn’t give a shit about a bunch of old guys talking crypto-bullshit for two hours straight—but it’s not like that’s what was really going to happen anyway. Toji had convinced himself this was all a ploy to snake your way into his pants at last. Naturally, he accepted your invitation.

“Just gonna have to sit closer then,” Toji posed gruffly, eyeing down the gap between your bodies on the couch. Sitting at opposite ends like a couple of children who still believed cooties was a prevalent issue. He nods toward you,“come on.”

“You’re terrible.” Despite that, you scoot closer, invading his bubble of personal space and snatching your half of the blanket back. Focused on the Netflix explore page, tongue poked out between two rows of teeth as you enter the title of the documentary into the search bar, you miss the way Toji observes you. Watching. Waiting.

And waiting.

For what? Who knows. Maybe Toji prepares himself for the inevitable moment when you slip a hand beneath the blanket and drift over to his thigh. Ready for that familiar squeeze at his crotch, the same tango so many other curious hands have danced in the past. But he’d let you proceed without any qualms. He’d encourage you.

“You’re bored, huh?” You chuckled halfheartedly midway through the film, pressing pause. Bored didn’t even begin to describe his pure disinterest.

Toji shrugs. “Maybe.” His arm rests on the back ledge of the couch, not quite around you, but so close that it might as well be. He shifts, touches his right thigh to your left one, and tilts his chin down. “Listening to a bunch of rich fucks whine about the stock market doesn’t exactly captivate me.”

Frowning, “that’s only surface level. The audience is supposed to infer—” Fake snoring cuts you off. Toji rolls his eyes shut, hanging his jaw to fake the most obnoxious slumber. His head lolls onto your shoulder. You don’t shy away from the physical contact. “You’re not funny.” He begs to differ, what with the way nasally snorts crack from your sinuses. The shoulder he presses his cheek to stutters with stifled dissipation.

“Stop movin’.” Toji nuzzles closer, facetiously dumping body weight against you if not for anything other than to hear the struggle squeeze at your throat when you wrestle to keep upright. “I’m comfy like this.”

“You’re never this affectionate.”

He’s not usually. But Toji’s hellbent on his premonitions. You want him. Everyone wants him. It’s been months of banter, months of getting spoiled by financial stability. You give him everything. You take nothing. His nose caresses the junction where shoulder and neck meet. Why won’t you just let him fucking give you something? You swallow hard. “Toji.”

“I constantly feel like I owe you. Like I got dues to pay.”

“Do I… make you feel that way?”

“All the fucking time.” It swelters beneath the blanket you share, and sweat starts to collect at the creases behind Toji’s knees. Bathing in the shared body heat, letting the convection hug his hips. He sighs, backtracking. “I know you got good intentions, ‘s what you keep telling me. And I like it, the way you reassure me. It’s… reassuring.” He titters into your neck, blinking slowly.

“Then why do you keep doing this?” A ginger hand graces the rear of his skull, not forcing him closer, but not tugging him away either. It just sits there, scritching as calm as your voice.

“Don’t know.”

This wasn’t the first time Toji succumbed to that shrill, little whisper in his head, the one that told him to spontaneously initiate closeness. It feels like common knowledge by now; to reciprocate in kind to any form of benevolence like a trained dog, because that was the expectation of him. To get on his knees and worship until bruises hammered into his joints and the hinges of his jaw grew sore from overuse. This transaction is familiar. It brings him a twisted sense of comfort, and you ripped it away. For better or for worse, Toji had yet to conclude.

“It’s like muscle memory.” That was the best way to describe it. Toji ached to give you the pleasure that felt long overdue in this affair. To offer some sort of repayment in the only way he knew how. Lips ghost over porcelain flesh—he’s never been so tempted in his life. Sex had always been the most exhausting and emotionally depleting aspect when he dealt with these kinds of unconventional financial relationships, but now as he unfurls his candied tongue and laves a stretch from collar to jawline, Toji has never wanted to be inside of someone more. Deft fingers were quick to pull him back by the scruff.

You studied Toji with unreadable eyes. He stares back, wiping excess saliva from his fatty lower lip with a thumb.

“I don’t want this for us,” you speak up finally, meandering eyes roaming around his facial features. You look at his lips, then his nose, then between his eyes. “Are you listening? I’ll write it on my fucking forehead if that’s what it takes for you to understand.”

“What if I want it?” Toji breathes.

You’re shaking your head. “You don’t.”

Who the fuck are you to decide what he does or doesn’t want? And how fucking dare you be right about it. Because in all this build up—the panting, the heat, the licking—Toji hadn’t so much as twitched down there. It’s like his mind and body were completely detached, separate entities trying to cohesively navigate through an avalanche of generational trauma. Trying and failing miserably. He palms himself to confirm his limp appendage.

“Fuck.” A bucket of ice water dumped over his head, washing away the illusion of lust and leaving behind reality in its wake. What the fuck am I doing? “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Toji doesn’t really understand what you’re apologizing for. You’ve got no need to feel sorry when he was the one who threw himself at you so abruptly. But he doesn’t ask, either. It felt eerily nice to be on the receiving end of an ‘I’m sorry.’

You still hold his nape. The film is long forgotten at this point, set on the backburner, and dimmed with the Are you still watching? notification blanketing the screen.

“Your movie.” Toji cocks his head, beckoning towards the gigantic television pinned to the wall all without tearing his eyes from yours. “Press play.”

This has the beginnings of a coy smirk straining your lips. “I thought it was boring you?”

He shrugs. “It’s not so bad.”

And so you resumed the documentary, if not for anything other than to dissolve the serious tension that palpated in the air. You didn’t force Toji to explain himself, you didn’t hound him for answers about his hypersexuality. You didn’t distance yourself, you didn’t act appalled when his thigh brushed yours again. You didn’t pity him, you didn’t treat him like a child. But you did stroke his neck. You continued to laugh with him. You let him fall asleep on you that night and didn’t wake him ‘till morning.

You let him trust.

His orgasm doesn’t have any anticipation. It crashes down on him all at once, splitting down the notches of his spine and sending bouts of electricity zapping down to his curled toes, still encased in thick, mud soaked boots. She cries below, contorting in the direction of the pleasure, but Toji holds her down while he fills the rubber.

It’s unsatisfying.

“Oh my fuck—” The woman pants on her come down, trembling around him. She clearly enjoyed herself, giggling stupidly into the pillow now sopping with drool and tears. Toji pulls out with little grace, sneering at the viscous mess of bodily fluids slicking up his navel. Proficient fingers work the sticky condom off, tying the end in a balloon knot.

It’s gross.

He folds, dropping onto the bed beside her. Sweat glues bangs to his forehead. His chest rises, then falls, then rises again with exertion. Sleep threatens to rear itself, weighing down his eyelids.

It’s tiring.

The body beside him stirs, rolling on her side. “How was it?”

“Good,” he lies through his teeth for the sake of sparing feelings. She smiles, feeling over his chest.

“It was good for me, too,” she tells him like he asked. “Really good. Oh, also my name’s Maria by the way, not Y/n.” Maria chuckles like it was just a silly mix up.

She drags him into mindless, post-sex banter. Rambling on about workplace drama, about her two pet cats and about her shity landlord. Mindless rattling that falls on Toji’s deaf ears; he’s disassociated, lying face-up on the terribly hard bed, fixated on the grime weighing down his lap. When an opening arises, Toji hauls himself up and claims the shower.

An intense wave of queasiness materializes in the centerpoint of Toji’s stomach when he closes himself in behind the bathroom door. The aftermath always felt this awful—bitter and lonely and degrading. Toji takes a moment to just be, perching on the lid of the toilet with his head in his hands, swallowing down sickness lest he subject Maria to a concert of his disgusting gags if he retches into the bowl.

When Toji stands to fiddle with the shower handle, he becomes hyper aware of the weight in his sweatpants. There’s an awkward sag in the fabric, bunching around the object that sits heavy in his front pocket. His cellphone—he never bothered to remove it. Giving a sniffle to the air, Toji fishes out the device and taps the screen with little interest.

Oh.

He looks away. Looks at the sink, then the wall, then the glass door of the shower cubicle. Then back at his screen. Back at the very real notification that sits there idly, begging to be clicked.

Toji’s heart races at a perilous speed, something lethal for an old man like himself. He can feel the beat rumble his insides, blending everything up like a bloody smoothie.

Yielding, he clicks.

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tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0semultiverse @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni @taelattecookie @purple-obsidian @hqtoge @khaothick @saintkaylaa @ya9amicide @crayzyaarna @saiki-enthusiast @haesify @nyamocka @sixxze @lifesucksweswallow @darkstarlight82 @megumisdivinedogs @celestialol @yunho-leeknow @ghostfacefricker6969 @aizawa19 @lupicalbestwolf @nymphsdomain @makuzume @killerkinnie @haesify @svnkenlily @bimbobunnii @ssc7514 @megumisfoot @swoozleee

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littlexdeaths · 5 months

Text

what are friends for? - e.m.

best friend eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: period talk/period blood, eddie is the sweetest as always, grinding, fingering, one singular use of daddy

a/n: thank you to @callsignraver for the title idea 🤭 the eddie edit was made by me! you can use it, just please credit my side blog (strangergraphics), if you do. now enjoy xx.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me,” he sounds so sincere, which is why you can’t even look at him.

Because looking at him would just open a set of floodgates that you aren’t prepared to deal with right now.

Looking at him is only going to fuel the fire that is raging in your lower abdomen— that was lit the moment you stepped foot in the trailer.

A fire that he’s been steadily stoking with each brush of his fingertips against yours as you reach for more popcorn. Or when his knee bumps casually into yours as he shifts on the small sofa.

Which for someone as fidgety as Eddie Munson— was a lot.

“I promise I’m not gonna laugh or anything, just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your best friend had been able to pick up on the shift in your mood almost immediately. But he chose not to comment on it until now, unable to handle it any longer.

But how in the hell were you supposed to tell him that it’s his fault? That he’s driving you crazy?

That you want nothing more than to have his fingers buried inside you?

“You wouldn’t get it,” you sigh, shifting your body further away from him on the sofa.

Clinging onto the arm for dear life as you pretend to watch the clash of light sabers on the tv screen.

His snort has your eyes rolling.

“Try me.”

Your hands move up to rub your temples, eyes slipping shut.

“It’s a dumb girl thing—”

He jumps up off the sofa before you can even finish your sentence, returning from the bathroom mere moments later with a bottle of Advil in tow.

Eddie doesn’t register your confused expression as he stands before you, holding out the bottle.

“Cramps, right?” he asks, a kind smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You feel embarrassed, because of course that’s what he would think. He’s heard you drone on and on about it over the years. He only wants to help, like the kind friend that is he is.

Friend, being the keyword here.

“I um…” you mumble, taking the bottle from his outstretched hand.

You attempt to ignore the heat that continues to pool in between your thighs as you stare at the veins protruding from his hand. The way his thick fingers were previously gripping onto the pill bottle.

How they would feel gripping your inner thighs….

No. Stop it.

You mentally scold yourself, chewing on your lower lip as he takes a seat on the sofa.

“I appreciate it, but that’s not the issue.”

Now he’s the one who looks confused, leaning forward as he scratches at the stubble on his jaw.

“Then what is it?” he prods.

Eddie knocks his knee into yours again, tingles shooting up your spine from the subtle touch.

“It’s just, I’m feeling…”

“Tired?”

“No.”

“Bloated?”

“No!”

“Hangry—”

“Horny!” you shout, startling you both, “I’m horny.”

Your voice has gone soft, a near whisper compared to your previous volume. The air around you is suddenly thicker, and you are once again unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh,” he says after a long pause.

“Yeah, oh.”

You feel the tips of your ears warming as you continue to stare down at your lap. The beginning chords of the imperial march are the only thing filling the uncomfortable silence between you.

“I mean, I could always help you,” he replies finally.

His words cause your eyes to shoot up in surprise, your head turning to meet his molten hues.

“That’s— I wouldn’t ask you to do that, Ed.”

His ringed hand suddenly reaches over to rest on your knee, fingers slipping beneath the rips in your jeans.

“What if I want to?”

Now you’re the one rendered speechless.

“What if I have wanted to… for a long time,” he continues, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, determination in his eyes as he leans further into your space. You can’t help how your body gravitates towards him, your hands clutching onto the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

You can feel the way his breath mingles with yours, nicotine and movie theater butter. But it’s the flecks of honey in his eyes that break down your remaining defenses.

You answer him with a kiss, lightly pressing them to his. Testing the waters. Eddie eagerly deepens it, pulling you in closer until you’re in his lap. Your thighs bracket his hips, his hands encircling your waist.

The kiss becomes heated, faster than either of you are prepared for. You lower your hips harder onto his lap, inhaling his soft gasp as your bodies meld together. His grip tightens on your hips as you eagerly grind yourself against his crotch, welcoming the friction.

“Hold on, baby.” He groans again, his large hands stopping any further movement.

Baby.

He’s never called you that before.

Your lower lip juts out in a pout as he maneuvers you off of his lap, and back onto the soft cushions of the sofa. The male quickly sinks to his knees, his hands splaying across the tops of your thighs as he works himself between them. He chuckles at your expression, shaking his head slightly.

“Patience, pretty girl,” he hums as his hands slide further up your thighs until they reach the button on your jeans. “Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Your nerves suddenly kick back into gear, despite the flames continuing to lick your skin. Eddie has become so tuned into your emotions over the years that he can sense this new shift immediately. This was an emotion he has seen plenty of times, but it was never because of him.

The notion has his hands freezing as they hover over the closure of your jeans.

“Shit, did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh. “I just… don’t wanna make a mess.”

His expression softens as you gesture to the tan sofa beneath you. The male rises to his feet without another word, darting over to the laundry basket that is seated on top of their washing machine. He digs through a pile of clothes until he finds whatever he’s searching for.

A dark maroon towel.

He clutches the soft fabric in his hands as he makes his way back to you, resuming his previous position between your legs. He sets it next to you, his brown eyes nervously shifting between your thighs and your face.

“You can touch me, Eds,” you say, carefully taking his hands in yours to guide them up to the clasp on your jeans.

Eddie doesn’t need to hear anything else.

He makes quick work of removing your jeans, tugging the denim down your thighs. His eagerness has you giggling, the tops of his cheeks flushing a light pink even in the muted light.

He pauses for a moment, leaning back as he drinks in your newly exposed skin. His eyes darken even further as his calloused fingers grip the hem of your cotton panties.

“God, take them off— please,” you whine, no longer caring if you sound pathetic.

You’ve waited far too many years for this to happen, and your patience has finally run out. Eddie chuckles, sliding your panties (pad and all) down your thighs. The male carelessly tosses them over his shoulder, ignoring your small protest.

“Lift up,” he hums, motioning you to guide your hips up.

He easily slides the towel beneath you, letting your body relax against the plush material. Eddie gently rests his hands over the tops of your thighs once more, beginning to spread them even wider. Your cheeks warm as his eyes zero in on your core, whining softly as he licks his lips.

“Christ,” he breathes, inhaling deeply as he notes the way your arousal shines in the glowing light of the tv.

He leans back for a moment, dark eyes flicking up to meet your gaze as he slowly slides each of those gaudy rings off his fingers. Eddie takes his time in doing so, the clink of metal echoes in your ears as he gathers them in his palm.

“Gimme your hand,” he says softly, but the command in his voice lingers all the same.

You hold out your left hand towards him, ignoring the way it trembles as he begins to slide each of his large rings onto your fingers. His dimples indent his cheeks as he grins, carefully lifting your knuckles to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to each one, ensuring that he keeps his eyes trained on you as he does so.

“Keep those safe for me, sweetheart.”

He winks playfully, leaning forward to brush his lips over the bare skin of your shin. His hands hook under your knees, allowing you to drape your legs over his shoulders. His movements have slowed drastically, taking his time before his fingers finally dip between your thighs.

Your soft gasp spurs him on, his fingers running through your drenched folds. He gathers your arousal on his fingertips, dragging them up to encircle over your swollen bud. You let your body relax against the couch cushions, allowing your eyes to slip shut as he continues his gentle touches.

But as soon as his touch starts— it stops just as fast.

A whine spills past your lips as his large hands wrap around the meat of your thighs and squeeze.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he coos, pressing his lips to the curve of your knee.

His teeth lightly nip at the skin there, causing your eyes to flutter back open.

“Yes, sir,” you giggle as he groans.

His fingers are back on you before you have time to mention his reaction, circling your entrance before dipping inside slowly. It causes your breath to hitch, his middle finger able to stretch you out better than any of yours ever have.

Eddie curses under his breath as he adds another, your body almost greedily sucks him in. Your hand instinctively reaches forward to grip onto his bicep. The rings that adorn your hand are biting into his skin, the thought alone makes his jeans impossibly tighter.

“God, you’re so wet,” he moans, guiding his fingers even deeper inside you.

You reply with a soft whine, your thoughts entirely too jumbled to provide him with anything else. His eyes have momentarily dropped from your face to where his fingers are nestled inside you. He slides them back out, admiring the sticky pink mixture that’s coating his thick digits.

“Eddie, don’t tease,” you huff, guiding your hips back towards his awaiting hand.

Your impatient attitude has him chuckling, those dark hues flicking up to meet yours again.

“Oh, you want these back, baby?” He taunts, his other hand gripping onto your thigh as he eases three of the digits inside your entrance.

The brunette holds them there, enjoying the way your body begins to squirm beneath him. Taunting you.

“Go on, say it, sweetheart.”

He raises a brow at you, slightly pushing his fingers in deeper, before he quickly retracts them with your continued silence. Repeating the action.

“I want…” you start, but the curl of his fingers makes you lose your train of thought.

“Hmm, you want what?” he prods.

He completely removes them from your entrance, ignoring your pleading eyes as he slides them back up to dance around your clit.

Your soft mewl of his name does nothing to deter his actions, it only slows them.

“Come on, use that pretty little head of yours,” he hums as the tips of his fingers graze over your swollen bud.

“God, just— please!” your voice raises an octave, taking on a breathy quality.

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smirk as he tilts his head at you. His fingers dip lower, circling over your puckered hole.

“Ya know, while I usually prefer something along the lines of master… or even daddy,” he muses, noting how your breath hitches.

“God, sure has a nice ring to it.”

His head falls back as he laughs, a playful pout adorning his lips as you swat at him. Those simmering embers have quickly morphed into a raging fire, ready to engulf you both in the flames.

“Eddie, I swear to God. If you don’t put those fingers back inside me, I will—“

The rest of your threat gets caught in your throat as he thrusts his fingers back in, a strangled moan takes their place.

“See, was that so hard, princess?” he teases.

You don’t answer him, instead grinding your hips down to meet his palm. Eddie pumps his fingers faster, his thumb pressing onto your clit. The wet squelch that follows has him moaning, nuzzling his face against your knee.

Your hand releases his bicep, slipping down his arm to tangle your fingers together. He holds them tightly, beginning to curl the others inside you. The calloused tips brush against your sweet spot, pulling another whine from your throat.

“Oh, right there,” you pant, chest heaving as his thumb firmly massages your clit.

That fire continues to burn brighter with each thrust of his fingers, ready to swallow you whole.

“That’s it,” he grins, watching in awe as you make a mess of his fingers, streaks of red and pink dripping down his knuckles.

“Makin’ such a mess f’me, baby.”

You barely register his words as your back arches up off the sofa. Your eyes squeeze shut as white hot pleasure bursts behind your eyelids. His rings dig into your skin from how tightly you’re grasping him, legs trembling as he coaxes you through your high.

Your ears are ringing as you finally collapse into the lumpy cushions, whining as he continues to gently thrust his fingers inside you.

“Come ‘ere,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

His cheek is smushed against your inner thigh, only breaking your heavy lidded stare to slide his fingers out of you. He hums, carefully lifting his fingers towards the dim light from the tv. He rubs them together, gazing in utter fascination at the sticky strings they leave behind.

You already miss his warmth, tugging playfully on his unruly curls to grab his attention. He chuckles, wiping his fingers on the towel beneath you before he’s hovering over your body. Hips pressed into yours, not caring if you make a mess on the front of his pants.

“Thank you,” you whisper, twirling one of his curls around your ringed finger.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.” He grins down at you, his dark eyes almost sparkling.

“Besides…” he pauses, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “What are friends for?”

tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @undead-supernova @munsonhoneybaby @hippiegoth97 @cinemabean @strangerstilinski @corrodedcorpses @curlyjoequinn @mugloversonly @eddiesxangel @hellfirenacht @splendiferous-bitch @razzeith @aleisashortcake @ali-r3n @eddie-is-a-god (i tried tagging you i promise 😭)

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #best friend!eddie munson x fem!reader #best friend!eddie munson

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catiuskaa · 8 months

Text

missed me, missed me, now you gotta...

SUMMARY: minho wasn’t grumpy, nor he was jealous. but he hasn’t been the same ever since he fell in love with you.

REQUESTED! by a sweet annonie right here. pookie, your idea was lovely to write! lil grumpy minho, im melting… it’s a bit short, but I hope you like it! <3

CW: use of (crack) text messages to convey the plot, starring: han quokka as cupid + reader’s bsf, clingy minho as king of my heart, and ngl, type 1 diabetes fluff ahead. keep insulin shots close just in case! lol

WC: 1.1k

A/N: i love how i’m slowly turning into a minho blog/page lmaoo, only minho: the man, the myth, the legend!

[🪻☆🌫️☆🪻]

The same ringtone buzzed again during rehearsals. Its ding had sounded so many times already that it had started to get repetitive really quickly.

Minho frowned as he looked in the mirror, retouching his rolled sleeves just once more for what he secretly knew it had been more than twenty times. In the span of ten minutes. Maybe even less.

But Minho wasn’t ‘grumpy’.

He so wasn’t.

His day had been normal so far. He had no reason to be grumpy. Not one what-so-ever.

He had woken up in between your arms, and even if he had ‘complained’ about it, he loved being the little spoon. And also, his cats jumped on the bed and, just for once, none of them landed on his face.

There had been just one thing.

…

Well. Technically more than one.

You had rushed outside this morning. You claimed you didn’t have time to have breakfast with him, because you were late for something he didn’t really get. Because of that, you hadn’t come over to the JYP building with him. He had to drive over alone. And you hadn’t pecked him goodbye at the entrance like always.

But he. Wasn’t. Grumpy.

Not. At. All.

> sunggie: girl, did you hide his cats or smth?

< minho’s owner: lol, wdym dude?

> sunggie: he looks like he’s going to kill me.

> sunggie: And he loves me! Wtf??

“Jisung-ah.”

Han shrieked in his place in the sofa, his phone almost falling off his hands. He quickly turned it off, hoping that the grumpy dancer hadn’t seen the old or new messages.

“Who were you texting?” Minho frowned, deeper this time.

“Oh.” Jisung chuckled. “Just checking in on noona.”

“My girlfriend?” The way Minho enunciated the title felt a bit possesive. Jisung eyed at him weirdly for a second. Even he felt weird himself.

Jisung nodded sheepishly, turning his phone back on but quickly opening a random app.

“Yeah. I owed her a call back.” He shrugged, nonchalantly accepting that he had opened Subway Surfers, and started to play.

As the catchy music came from Han’s phone, Minho shook his head.

Not grumpy.

Not at all.

But the thought that you had been texting Han and didn’t text him —instead of him— did funny things in his chest.

Now, keep in mind that Minho would never describe himself as a jealous man.

He trusted you with his cats, of course he trusted you regarding your relationship. But he had barely got a hold of you all day. And Han had. By call and text. Like he was doing now.

Not grumpy.

Sure.

< minho’s owner: you dead yet?

Jisung groaned.

> sunggie: no! you made me lose my score!

> sunggie: and I don’t have any keys! ㅠㅠ

< minho’s owner: sucks to suck, lol

< minho’s owner: but what’s wrong with my future husband? did you do something?

> sunggie: he’s moody since he came in this morning.

> sunggie: you weren’t here tho. smth wrong between ya?

< minho’s owner: no…? just had to run to work early…

And then, something in Jisung’s paboracha brain connected. Probably because of how he had named your contact in his phone.

> sunggie: omg

< minho’s owner: what?

> sunggie: that corny dumbass

> sunggie: he’s so stupid

< minho’s owner: bitch what is it???

> sunggie: he’s moody bc u didn’t come in with him today!

You hesitated. Could that be it?

< minho’s owner: really? u think so?

> sunggie: bitch I know so!

> sunggie: imma go get boba for the boys, get your ass here and come w/ me

Jisung’s brain started to work at cupid’s speed.

< minho’s owner: omw. be there in 5’

“Guys, I’m gonna go get boba. Do any of you want something?”

The rest of the gang blabbered something while some kept going over the steps of the choreography and the others rested on the couch, doozing off or on their phones. Han quickly noted down everyone’s orders, not before being squinted down by Minho. He held back a shiver.

“Clingy prick…” Jisung mumbled, leaving quickly.

He walked out of the JYP building, waiving and half bowing to the staff members and other artists in the building.

< minho’s owner: just parked! ^^

Jisung entered the boba place next to the building, smiling at the cashier as he read down the orders on his note app, and stood aside, waiting for the drinks.

“Hey!” You smiled widely at him, taking off your scarf, merely leaving it hanging on your shoulders. He clapped your hand, playfully slapping your back.

“Working hard?” Jisung snickered, pointing at the bag on your other hand.

You side-eyed at him, giggling softly.

“Took some snacks before heading off.” You shrugged. “We can sneak these in, right?”

Jisung scratched the back of his neck. “We’ll… come up with something.”

You both struggled carrying the drinks, teasing each other and betting who’d make a mess first. But all giggles came to an end when the security guard stared at you.

“Name and business?” He asked in a low huff.

Your body stiffened.

“She’s my sister,” Han chimed back. You were in fact far from being his sister, but that didn’t matter when the guard seemed to nod. “She’s just helping me carry the drinks inside.”

“And the bag? What’s inside?”

You cleared your throat, smiling. “Clothes for him to change once he finishes training.” You lied.

Thank God for his imagination. And for his stupid idea of shoving your scarf and his hoodie into the bag of snacks.

“Ok. You may come in.” The guard smiled politely.

Only after the both of you had gotten into the elevator you allowed yourselves to let out a sight full of relief. You two then smirked, high-fiving.

“Thank you, bro.” You teased in a snicker.

He cackled. “You’re welcome, sis.”

You both laughed and joked until you reached the training room.

“The person you dream of is back!” Han cackled.

“Noona!” Felix grinned happily.

“Yeah, that’s me!” You cackled at Jisung’s faked frown.

You smiled and greeted everyone as you entered, leaving a certain bunny boy for last.

You sat next to him on the couch, and without missing a beat, he took your legs and layed them on his lap.

You took a sip of his drink, and he stared at you, almost with a squint.

“You’ve made me jealous of fucking Han Jisung.” He stated matter-o-factly, making you practically choke on the tapioka pearls.

You coughed. “What?”

“You texted him all evening. And me? Not even a good luck kiss this morning.”

“Aw, are you grumpy, kitten?” You grinned teasingly, speaking only towards him in a soft tone to his ear. You pecked his cheek.

He needed more of those.

Grumpy, huh?

“Yes. Very.” He mumbled, hiding his blushed and pleased grin in the crook of your neck. “Need more kisses.”

“Well, you know how it goes.” You mumbled in a snicker. He hummed at you, waiting for you to explain.

You kissed his forehead softly, his hands stroking your thighs.

“Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me.”

~Kats, who can write this in one sit, but can’t figure out how chemistry works (yes have exams, why did I choose this for myself, help)

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sagewritings · 1 year

Text

Midnight Library - Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

pairing: draco malfoy x female reader

synopsis: your moment alone surrounded by books quickly ends when your boyfriend catches you sneaking out to the library in the middle of the night.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: curse words, smut, unprotected sex (read at your own discretion!)

a/n: hello everyone! i’ve been wanting to write for another character so here it is. do take note that this fic is 18+ and if you choose to proceed, your media consumption is up to you.

if you’d like to check out my other works, you can check the pinned post in my blog :>

i hope you’ll like this fic! happy reading!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost screamed, startled by a familiar voice. You looked up from the book that you were holding and turned sideways to face your smirking boyfriend.

“I didn’t expect to see you here either.” You replied, glaring at him for frightening you. It didn’t affect him at all; in fact, Draco seemed amused.

“You might have forgotten that I’m a prefect. I’m supposed to be out here to check if everyone is in their dormitories.” He explained, crossing his arm. “Meanwhile you, darling, aren't supposed to be here at this hour.”

You groaned, leaning back against your chair. “I’m only here to study, okay? I’m not doing anything illegal.”

“Sneaking out past curfew is illegal.” Draco replied.

Well, you know he’s right but you were not going to tell him that, not with his smug face looking at yours for a reaction.

It’s a few minutes past midnight. You were dressed in your night clothes and a sweater to keep you warm, surrounded by at least five books and a lamp. Truth be told, you didn’t want to be here. You’d rather be sleeping in your dorm room than be seated on a hardwood chair with barely enough light. But with your pride refusing you to fail potions, you decided to sacrifice one night of comfort.

Draco walked closer towards you, his face turning in confusion when he read the titles of the books.

“Potions? Are you studying for a test that I don’t know about?”

You sighed. “No, there’s no test. But I got my results earlier and I feel like I’m going to fail.”

“Why didn’t you just come to me?”

“Because, you’re always busy and I prefer to study alone.” You replied plainly.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You have to go back before another prefect catches you.”

“No, they won’t.”

“This isn’t the first time you sneaked out, didn’t you?” He furrowed his brows.

You smiled innocently, not saying anything. He let out a breath, towering over you while you stayed seated.

“Y/n, get back now.” Draco spoke, sounding authoritative.

You shook your head. “What will you do? You won’t dare subtract points from our house.”

His patience thinning, he leaned down until your eyes were level. One of his hands was placed upon the table, the other was holding the back of your seat. Despite being used to this closeness, you felt intimidated when your boyfriend smiled devilishly.

He closed the gap between the two of you by pressing his lips softly against yours. It took you a second to react, confused that he’s kissing you instead of fighting back.

“What are you doing?” You asked after pulling away from him gently, hands pressed against his shoulder.

“What? Can’t I kiss my girl?” Draco shrugged, standing up again.

You hummed. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously. We have the entire library to ourselves, we might as well take advantage of it.” He spoke and pulled you up by the hand.

“And what happened to breaking the curfew?” You jokingly asked.

“Fuck the curfew.” Draco replied and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You discreetly pushed aside the lamp and the books, leaning your back against the edge of the table as Draco hungrily kissed you and trapped you with his body. You slowly lifted your hands from his chest to his hair, earning a small groaning sound from the boy.

He deepened the kiss, his hands subtly wrapping around your waist before lifting you up and sitting you down on the table. You wrapped your legs around his hips to pull him close, breathing heavily as he started to kiss the sides of your mouth.

Making out with Draco at the most risky places wasn’t new to you. There’s something about the thrill of getting caught that builds up the heat, and now is one of those times.

You let out a gasp when your boyfriend’s lips went from your mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin softly.

“Hey, no marks.” You reminded him, your breath panting.

“Yes, ma’am.” He whispered, his hands bow sneaking below your sweater. “It’s a bit warm, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, cheekily removing your sweater and your shirt at the same time. “Happy?” You asked, smirking when you observed his eyes glued to your red bra.

“Very.” He whispered in reply and lowered his head to press small kisses to your breasts.

Your arousal grew when you felt his fingers snaking up your back and within a moment, you felt your bra loosen. You looked down at your boyfriend, catching his smile as he eyed your bra going down. “That’s better.”

You moaned in surprise when his lips wrapped around your left nipple, your back arching as you tried to catch your breath. Without moving his head away from your chest, Draco pulled off his robe while you helped him remove his tie.

“Draco.” You heaved when his mouth attached to your other nipple, his fingers now working simultaneously as he toyed with the other one. When he was satisfied with the attention that he gave to your breasts, he straightened up his posture once more and you took the opportunity to start unbuttoning his shirt. Your fingers worked hastily while your boyfriend admired the hungry look in your eyes.

You quickly get rid of his shirt, throwing it sideways as you turn your focus on his belt.

“Someone’s excited.” He chuckled.

“Shut up and help me.” You spat, dropping his belt to the ground.

“Patience, darling. We have a lot of time.” Draco clicked his tongue. He pecked your lips once before crouching down. “Lift your hips slightly, love. Let me take this off of you.”

You obeyed, pushing yourself up from the table to allow Draco to pull down your pajamas and underwear. You took a deep breath at the realization that you were fully exposed, but paid no attention when you caught Draco eyeing your pussy while licking his lips.

“Well, what do we have here?” He smirked, his right hand landing gently on your thigh.

“Draco…” You whined lowly, growing frustrated as his fingers teased you by drawing random circles along your skin.

“What do you want, love?” He asked innocently.

You groaned. “Stop teasing me.”

He smirked. Draco loves nothing more than seeing you surrender to his touches, your sarcasm staying intact despite being desperate. And right now, he’s enjoying the growing smell and wetness of your arousal.

Removing his hand from your thigh, he pressed a finger against your clit and wrapped his other arm around you to keep you in place. You jolted forward, the pressure alone is enough to stimulate pleasure to your core. “Fuck.”

Draco’s finger gently circled your clit, both his cock and smile becoming larger at the sight of you. He surprised you by pressing two fingers in, his thumb taking over your clit. He began pumping, enjoying your moans mixed with the sound of your wet folds.

“Fucking hell, Draco. More.” You demanded through deep breaths, your chest rising and falling.

Draco didn’t respond, instead pulling out his fingers after a few moments. Your brows pinched together in confusion, looking at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth.

“You taste amazing, darling.” He smirked and watched as you stared at his lips. After licking his two fingers clean, he lifted his hands and brought his thumb in front of your face. “Open.”

Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and took his thumb in. You sucked, tasting yourself and letting out a moan while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck.” Draco spoke, feeling his cock straining.

After you’re done licking his finger, he pulls down his trousers and underwear. Despite seeing him naked multiple times, you still can’t help but be amazed at his size, your thoughts growing wild with desire.

You watched as Draco kneeled in front of you, his eyes being on the same level as your folds. He pulled you nearer to him, your lower half almost hanging off the edge of the table as he wrapped your legs around his shoulder.

“You gotta keep quiet, baby. We don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

Without any warning, Draco pressed his face to your pussy, his tongue expertly slipping inside and sucking on your clit.

“Fuck!” You moaned aloud, instantly forgetting his words as you pressed your weight against the bookshelf behind you.

Draco slapped your thigh softly. “What did I just say?”

You ignored him, too focused on the pleasure that you’re feeling to control the sounds from your mouth. You squirmed against his lips, grinding your hips upwards to get more. Your boyfriend smiled proudly.

“Yes, yes, Draco…. Shit.”

He pulled one of his hands away from you, lowering it to pump his manhood. His occasional moans caused vibrations throughout your body, your toes curling and your eyes shutting. Whatever information that you got from reading those potions books earlier was now thrown out of the window.

Draco felt your legs shake and he started to pull away. He needed you to cum, but not yet.

“W-what?” You asked desperately, almost whining at the loss of contact.

He gently shushed you, standing up and lining his cock directly at your slits. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll finish you right here.”

He pushed himself into you inch by inch, your warm folds wrapping around him perfectly. Draco groaned at the damp and tight feeling surrounding him, head falling back in pleasure as he settled perfectly within you.

You moaned once more, loudly this time as he started thrusting, his rhythm steady yet forceful. You repeatedly called his name, hands gripping the edge of the table as you shake in pleasure. Draco looked down to watch himself disappear inside you, eyes filled with darkness and pride every time his hips meet yours. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward, almost keeping them against your chest.

“That’s right, darling. Moan my name.” Sweat started to form on his forehead, his thrusts becoming harsher and quicker in desperate need. “C’mon, Y/n. Let me see you cum.”

“Draco…” You cried, your cunt clenching and throbbing. He pumped several more times before he completely pulled out, pulling you up with him.

Still dizzy from pleasure, you stood shakily, letting him maneuver your body as he desired. Draco turned you around, both of you now facing the shelves as he pushed your body to lean on the table. He kept your leg foot on the ground while he lifted your right, giving him easy access to your pussy.

He looked at your ass and caressed them swiftly before he entered you again, his thrusts becoming twice as hard.

“Fuck, Draco, please…” You weren’t sure what you were begging him for. All you knew is that you needed a release.

“Yes, baby. Say my name, go on.” He cooed, his hand sneaking up to your front to grab one of your breasts as the other came down to your clit.

The pleasure was overwhelming as Draco focused on every part of you as possible. Both of you panting and covered in sweat, his hands working wonders on your clit and nipple while he perfectly filled your cunt. Your hands grabbed at the bookshelf in front of you, head leaning back to his shoulder.

You knew you were close when you started to feel something up in your lower stomach, the urge to cum increases with every thrust. You knew Draco was close too when you felt him twitch inside you, a warm liquid beginning to leak.

“D-Draco, I’m…”

“I know, baby. Cum with me. C’mon, pretty girl.” He whispered closely in your ear, maintaining the speed of his thrusts as he rubbed your clit faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You almost screamed when you reached your orgasm, Draco following shortly after with a deep groan. Neither of you moved for a while, still breathless and shaking.

Draco rubbed your back and slowly pulled himself out of you, both of you moaning in the process. You sighed and turned around, leaning back against the table once more to keep your balance.

“Are you alright?” Draco touched your cheek, confused and concerned when you didn't say a word.

You smiled back and laughed lightly. “No, I feel like my knees are about to give out.”

He smirked, guiding you to a chair before gathering both of your clothes on the floor. “That’s what you get for sneaking out.”

“If this is the punishment for sneaking out, then I’ll see you again tomorrow night.” You smiled cheekily. “For potions lessons.”

Draco laughed before pulling out his wand and motioning it towards the two of you, your clothes magically reappearing on your bodies. He cleaned the table as well before pulling your hand.

“Let’s go before Filch catches us.”

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter imagines #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco malfoy fanfic

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leatherbookmark · 2 years

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NATURE HAD A COMEBACK....... IT’S BEEN 20 YEARS......

#lyrically limbo is pretty... yeah. but musically? tentatively sold tbh #i'm done also has a nice vibe to it #shrimp thoughts #music blogging #oh wait apparently rica rica came out this year. well. WELL.#hmmm you right is kind of... not entirely there ALTHOUGH the brief key change is fun?#second listen of the title track: i regret to inform y'all that LIMBO LIMBO LIMBO LIMBO LIMBO LIM lives rent free in my head #okay 'i'm done' lives in my mind as well. rent free. it's so BOUNCY

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itsmarsss · 4 months

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Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!” You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo.

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time.

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.”

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings.

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round.

And you won. This time, you fucking won.

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together.

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused.

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again.

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power.

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new.

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird.

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,�� he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open.

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time.

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too.

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise.

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing.

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you.

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face.

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you. His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw.

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real.

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise.

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?”

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout.

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it.

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor.

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet.

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses.

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.”

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear.

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more.

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance. He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?”

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that.

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.”

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it.

After a few minutes, he does.

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?”

He nods.

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon.

“I- yes. Yeah.”

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking.

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help.

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs.

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you.

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.)

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name.

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-”

You can feel his smile.

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more.

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet.

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive.

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.”

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out.

“What- what do you want me to do?”

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants.

He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light.

“Go on, baby.”

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs.

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally.

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now.

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside.

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out.

“Holy shit,” he agrees.

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you.

You roll your eyes at him.

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #miguel diaz #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz imagine #miguel diaz x you #cobra kai x reader #johnny lawrence #eli moskowitz #hawk #tori nichols #mars writes #miguel diaz smut #miguel diaz x reader smut

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sapphirerogers · 6 months

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The thing about Captain America: Civil War is that it's part of a trilogy about one specific man named Steve Rogers. Therefore it is supposed to be about Steve Rogers and primarily from his perspective.

It's the episode right after CATWS, and the story is supposed to directly tie in with the events of CATWS. It's hilarious (= enraging) how people just seem to conveniently overlook that little detail while talking about (or rather, shitting on) Steve's decisions and actions.

When you see him argue against the accords, you're supposed to actually remember that the government was infiltrated in the previous Cap movie and it was only two years ago. And that Steve was right in the middle of the fray.

When you see him trying to save the other supersoldiers, you're supposed to correlate that to him discovering the Winter Soldier and as shown in the last scene of CATWS, finding out everything Hydra did to Bucky.

When Steve says "He's my friend," you're supposed to remember Bucky falling from the train in CATFA, and 2014!Steve saying "even when I had nothing, I had Bucky." And you're supposed to empathise with the scrawny kid from Brooklyn who had no one but James Bucky Barnes in his corner. You're supposed to remember that Bucky would, and did follow this scrawny kid into the jaw of death.

Every single thing he does/says has a background in the previous two movies.

Now you might say "yeah but so does Tony-" yeah and tell me something, is it called "Iron Man: Civil War"? Or "Avengers: Civil War"?

Saying Steve's the bad guy in his own fucking movie is you completely missing the entire point of all three of the movies with him in the title.

Edit: I've noticed that this post is gaining a lot of traction. I'd like to introduce you (if you haven't been to my blog before) to a protest my friends and I are trying to set into motion called #ReleaseStuckyCWScene. The details to the original post are here, and the petition that you can sign to show your support is below. Please consider signing it and reblogging the original posts more.

#im so mad at people who hate on him for civil war #like sweetie its his movie he can do whatever he wants #especially if he's trying to protect his dearest friend #steve rogers #captain america #captain america civil war #“im not looking for forgiveness” AND YOU SHOULDNT BABY #DONT LET THEM DECEIVE YOU #stucky #bucky barnes #ReleaseStuckyCWScene

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eyelessfaces · 4 months

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I don't love you like I did yesterday

poe dameron x reader

summary: it’s not because he, poe dameron, gives you more attention and affection than your own boyfriend ever will that you are in love with him — loosely inspired by this post.

warnings: angst, complicated relationships, love triangle?, mentions of marriage, break up, refusing a proposal, internal conflict, doubting your relationship, emotional infidelity? if that's a thing, alcohol consumption. reader wears a dress at some point

tags: f!reader, I don't wanna spoil too much and don't read this if you don't want to be but; mutual pining, love confessions, he fell first AND harder, fluff and,, more

word count: 5.6k

yes. mcr lyrics as a title. in 2024. I know. but don't look at me the lyrics strangely fit so,,

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

You don’t love him; you are almost sure of that.

It’s not because you laugh at every single one of his stupid, lame jokes made just for you to laugh and because you blush everytime you catch him staring at you from across the room that you love him.

It’s not because he, Poe Dameron, gives you more attention and affection than your own boyfriend ever will that you are in love with him.

It’s not because your boyfriend blames you for being too close to him that you are.

It’s not because you wish it would have been Poe down on one knee proposing to you that it is the reason you told Kass you’re not ready for this yet.

And it’s not because you question your situation every single night that it means you have to change anything about it. You should be happy with Kass. You are.

Yet, you wish you were certain of all of that.

It has been two days already, and the guilt keeps eating away at you, like a bacteria gnawing at your feelings, particularly starving for the reasonable part of you that knows you said no for your own well being.

Kass makes it worse; the dark glances thrown at you whenever you bump into each other during the day and his lame excuses to ditch you whenever you want to talk to him make you feel like a monster, and though you know that it is exactly the way he wants you to feel, you can’t help it.

The situation is hard to swallow and bury deep in the back of your mind when you’re out on missions, and though you rarely ever get distracted because you know how important attention and concentration is in your job, the whirlwind of thoughts has been floating over the surface, and your focus has been off, you know it. And you’re not the only one who knows it.

Your head turns when you feel a light nudge at your arm, having dismissed Poe’s presence in your peripheral vision due to your distraction. His eyebrows raise when you look at him, and he gazes at you like the mist of your thoughts is still present over your face and he wants to shake you awake.

“You alright?” he asks before you look back at your squadron wrapping the mission equipment, setting it back in the ships.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, burying your hands in your pockets. You should feel alright. The mission went well despite your clear lack of attention, and you’ve given your life to the Resistance at this point, so you should be thankful that you succeed in most things you do in its name, right now even, considering the situation.

Poe looks down on the floor, kicking away a small rock there that dribbles down the hill. “You've always been an awful liar” he mutters under his breath, not buying it.

“Right” you scoff, your head dropping to shake it. He looks back up at you and you can feel his insistent gaze upon you, which eventually makes you break. “I don’t wanna bother you with my stupid problems”

He snorts, “Come on, you know I’m always here to listen to your stupid problems” he says playfully, nudging your arm with his elbow again. “That are often not that stupid actually” he adds.

There’s a silence settling between the both of you, and right before Poe aborts and figures you don’t wanna talk about it, you sigh. “Kass proposed.”

“Oh” the sound slips from his mouth, and accurately represents his surprise, his voice dropping a bit from the shock. He doesn’t know what to say, not really. This situation would have been on the list of things he would have never expected or even considered to happen.

This eventuality had never, ever occurred to him somehow, not yet, and now, all at once, the fear creeps in and becomes real; he is going to have to watch you get married, going to have to sit there amongst guests, he’s going to have to watch you be happy with someone else than him.

But he wants you to be happy, with or without him, so he will watch. It isn’t like he has the choice, anyways.

He lightly clears his throat, trying to dismiss the tight knot starting to form there, and smiles. The worst thing about it is the fact that it is genuine, he is truly happy for you. You deserve this.

Maybe Kass doesn’t, though. He doesn't deserve you. You’re too good for a half assed mechanic like him that, from a professional point of view, fucks up too often to still be there; but from what Poe hears around, it tends to be the same on other levels than just the professional one.

“Well, that’s great! Congrats,” his half cheerful voice wavers a little, but you don’t seem to notice as your lips form a polite smile that slightly turns perplexed, uncomfortable. “What’s wrong about that” he asks now, concerned when he sees your frown.

Your teeth graze your bottom lip. “I said no.”

“Oh” he watches as you raise your eyebrows, nodding. “I’m sorry” he adds. “I mean–”

“Yeah” you exhale.

“Why?”

That is the real question. Why? Why wouldn’t you want to marry your boyfriend you are supposed to be in love with? Why did you feel so awful at the feeling of his hand over yours when he shot the question?

“I don’t–” you start, thoughts running around your head. You’re not really sure about what you want to say, you’re not even precisely sure why you said no. There were so many reasons, but you couldn’t pick the exact one. “I think I’m not ready.”

Poe doesn't say anything. You stay there upon the small hill you watch your respective teams from. They’re almost done putting everything back.

You think you want to cry. You’re not really sure why. You think you want to dig a hole in that hill and stay hidden there for the rest of time.

“Poe, I don't think I wanna spend the rest of my life with him.” you mutter, looking ahead as if your confession would make you feel less guilty if you didn’t look your friend in the eye. “Is that wrong?” you ask as you turn to him.

“Yeah, well I don’t blame you” he scoffs, and you do too, knowing how Poe feels about Kass.

You should have known, it should have been a sign. Poe is kind, compassionate, and when he doesn’t like someone, it is because he has reasons to.

“That’s not wrong.” he continues, his tone serious now. “It would have been wrong if you said yes even though you knew damn well you didn’t want to marry him” he nods. “It's not the end of the galaxy if you said no. He'll get over it”

“Yeah” you sigh. “He keeps acting like it's my fault”

“Really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in astoundment. He shouldn’t be surprised.

“Yeah. He avoids me and sends me death glares like I murdered his family or something” you snort, realizing the stupidity of it all now that you say it out loud. Kass has always been somehow childish, but this exceeds everything you could expect from him.

“Wow okay” Poe shakes his head, a small exhale of desperation escaping his mouth before he speaks again. “Well, you know how I feel about him, sweetheart.”

“I know” you confirm, sending him a weak smile. He answers you with a pinched one, and as your squad finishes their tasks and starts to gather together, Poe reaches out and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before turning to join them.

He turns back to you quickly, “You know what? My squadron is having drinks on Coruscant tonight to have some fun before we leave for the week. You should join us”

You nod and watch him go, and feel the need to take one fat fucking breath before eventually joining everyone else.

—

Even though it is almost dry by now, the stain over your dress is still ridiculously visible. If the girl that had spilled it over you earlier hadn’t profusely apologized for it you would have most likely have had a go at her because of the awful mental state you were in – you were yourself surprised to notice how blatantly dismissive and weary you had been of that incident – it had been nothing compared to the past few days you just had.

Poe looks over at you, your gaze planted onto your glass of Black Hole as your fingers absentmindedly drum against the table; your choice of drink says it all, and though you might want to get properly drunk, Poe is strictly against it if it means you plan on moping all night long. He finishes his drink, planting a hand over your shoulder as he leans closer to you.

“Wanna go dance now?” Poe shouts in your ear, trying to overlap the loud music blasting. You scoff and shake your head, “I’m not really in the mood”

“That's exactly why we need to,” he affirms with his usual charismatic grin as he takes a hold of your hand and pulls you to the middle of the room anyway. “Come on!” you give in when you realize he’s not really asking, dragging you through the crowd. “You know I'm leaving tomorrow morning, you owe me a dance”

“Okay” you laugh as you put your hands over his shoulders, his coming to rest at either side of your waist.

You move stiffly at first, your eyes rolling playfully when Poe gives way more energy into it than you do, and despite yourself, you start to smile, and make an effort to match his energy.

Poe spins you around, his movements confident as he tries to cheer you up. "Just follow my lead, okay?" he says, his voice warm and encouraging. He twirls you under his arm smoothly, and you can’t help but laugh as he dips you dramatically, catching you with ease; he’s intimidatingly close to your face before he leans to your ear. “See? I’m not an awful dancer”

“Is there even something you’re not good at at this point,” you rhetorically ask as you both stand straight again, the movement making your head spin a little because of the alcohol.

“Following orders, probably” he jokes, still swaying with you. You laugh and let your forehead rest over his shoulder, your eyes shutting as you take a deep breath; it might have been the only moment in those past few days where you genuinely let go of all your worries.

“Hey, we should go outside, it’s hot in here. And loud” Poe proposes as you both still sway, his hand gently cradling your back.

“Sure” you nod with a smile. “Wait– I’ll join you there, I’m gonna get us drinks”

There’s a grin plastered over his face and a glint in his eyes as he glances at you when you join him outside, your drinks in hands. The cool night air is a welcome change from the overwhelming warmth inside the cantina.

“What?” you scoff, looking down at yourself, trying to figure out the reason behind his amused expression.

“Nothing” he shrugs off, taking his drink from you, but not before you catch the way his eyes linger on you.

“It’s the stain, isn’t it” you whine and sigh as you pull at the fabric of your dress to observe it. “Didn’t realize it looked that stupid”

He giggles as his mouth is still full of his drink. “It’s stylish” he admits with a cheeky grin.

You scoff and roll your eyes, your giggle fading as you both take a sip of your drinks, the silence between you comfortable as the muffled hum of the cantina’s activity buzzes just behind you. Then, out of nowhere, just as you’re about to talk again, Poe breathes out your name, his expression changing, becoming more serious as you glance at him expectantly.

“I’m in love with you.” he blurts out, like words are falling out of his mouth from being held there for too long.

You huff out a laugh. “No,” you laugh, the taste of your drink still warm in your throat. You frown a bit when you notice he doesn't waver, doesn't flinch, doesn't drop his expression to admit this is some kind of joke now that he knows it's not working on you.

“Yes I am” he declares, as serious as he is when he needs to be in his job.

You chuckle, still not fully believing what he's saying. “Are you drunk Poe?”

“Wha– no– no I’m not” he frowns, his eyebrows knitting together in earnest. “I mean it. I'm in love with you.” he affirms, his eyes searching yours with a seriousness that makes your heart skip a beat.

You pause, taken aback by the tone of his voice – he's sincere, he's not playing around. “You can’t.”

“I know.” he declares with a nod, his gaze never leaving yours. “I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore” he admits as his expression softens. “I don’t want this to ruin our relationship” he says, his voice calmer now. “And I know you can’t feel the same” he nods, “And that’s okay.”

You pinch your lips together. You're not sure what to say. You nod eventually, acknowledging it all, processing his declaration. “Well” you say finally, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “I, uh, I’ll go get another drink.”

Your glass is still mostly full.

Poe nods, swallowing with difficulty as he watches you turn and head back inside.

The sounds of laughter as you enter the cantina again make you sick to your stomach.

—

This went awful. He didn’t expect any less. He didn’t expect anything in the first place; his impulsiveness finally got the best of him.

Having to swallow it down and play it like it didn’t happen felt more humbling than every time he has had to admit he made a mistake. Jessika’s story about the maintenance issues with her X-wing is slowly starting to blur, and Poe isn’t even sure she’s still on that topic of that – at this point – one sided discussion, as he can’t help but glance over at you, talking to Karé until he eventually realizes you aren’t there with him anymore.

“Poe!” Jessika scolds him, making him turn back to her. She sighs, “You’re not even listening”

“Sorry” he apologizes, looking around the room to figure out if you’re still there. “I gotta go, keep that story for later” he nods, patting her shoulder before turning away.

“I just finished telling it,” she huffs out in disbelief, Poe’s repeated apology fading with the music as he disappears through the crowd.

You’re not in the cantina, not anymore. Karé tells him you went out for fresh air, and he finds you on the flight of stairs on the side of the building, hidden from everyone.

"I was looking for you," he halts– you're crying; you're there, sitting on the stairs, looking up from where you were hiding your face in your hands crying. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice wavering with surprise; he thought you were having a good night despite everything, having fun with Karé, he thought he had been able to make you forget about your problems for a moment. But no, and he obviously knows what’s wrong, because he managed to fuck it all up by confessing his feelings for you without thinking about it twice.

You pinch your lips, trying to repress new tears as you wipe away the ones rolling down your face. "Nothing," you mumble, shaking your head. "It's alright."

Poe sighs softly, walking up to you and sitting down with you.

He softly nudges your shoulder with his own, “You're rocking that stain,” he says, a small grin over his face. “For what it’s worth, you could even rock a First Order suit, so,” he smiles as he watches you laugh between sniffles. “You don't have to worry about that.”

He sighs, and his tone grows more serious. "I'm sorry I said everything I said. I shouldn't have burdened you with my feelings" he admits. His voice is filled with regret. He should have kept that for himself, for now anyway. “I was caught up in the moment and I didn’t realize it would hurt you more. It was stupid. It was unfair to you." his voice weakens. He looks back at your face. You blink your tears away silently. “I do realize it was possibly the worst moment I could choose to tell you this”

Poe gently wipes your tears away, before they can reach the bottom of your face.

“I don’t expect anything back from you, you don’t have to worry about that. This doesn’t have to change anything about us”

He kisses your cheek before leaving.

—

If you had to point out positive points about your indirect fight with Kass following his proposal, the fact that you weren’t living with him would be one of them.

The silence in your quarters alone was surely more bearable than the silence that would fill the space if he were there with you, you were sure of that.

And even if it’s been three days already since you rejected his proposal, you have barely talked to him despite going out of your way to try to; he has been hurt by your rejection, and he is keen on making you understand.

You can’t help but wonder if you would have been happier if you had said yes; maybe it would have been easier and maybe you wouldn’t feel so bad even though you still wouldn’t want to marry him, even if it is exactly the way Kass wants you to feel. Maybe saying yes would have been the right decision, after all, and maybe you would be set about your feelings for good with the prospect that you would allegedly spend the rest of your life with him.

Then there's Poe, his words.

Poe and his words that keep rolling around your head over and over again no matter what you’re doing and no matter what time of the day it is; those about the confession of his love towards you, and those that assured you that Kass would get over your rejection, that it’s not the end of everything, not the end of your relationship with him even if right now, it seems like a deadlock.

And almost as if it was staged, Kass steps through your door.

“Hey,” he speaks, hands in his pockets. You repeat the same thing quietly, looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything, apologize maybe. He looks around your place before chuckling, pointing and walking over to the table. “It’s just– I forgot my gloves last time I came here and I need them”

“Oh, so that’s it.” you snort darkly, following him close.

“Yeah, that’s it.” he mutters nonchalantly as he picks up the pair. “What do you even mean” he frowns as he turns back at you, shoving his gloves in his jacket pocket.

“I mean you've been avoiding me all week and you think it's okay to casually come here just to pick up your stupid pair of gloves?”

“Well, they’re still mine, so” he shrugs. “And again, what do you want me to do”

You frown. “I don’t know, maybe apologize for your attitude for these past few days first. You’ve been childish”

“I’m childish? You’re the one who’s not ready for marriage.”

You chuckle in disbelief, “Yeah well, I’m sorry for not wanting assured long term with someone that behaves the way you do.” you say, looking at him in the eyes though you would rather be looking everywhere but here at the moment.

“You know,” you start, readjusting your position onto your feet. “I’ve been wondering, asking myself all of those questions, what was wrong with me for rejecting you.” he looks at you, hand still stuck in his pocket, waiting for you to make your point.

“And that’s what you wanted, right? But the one thing I really asked myself was ‘Why did he even propose’, because you don’t even care that much about me, so I don’t understand” you shake your head. “You shouldn’t have asked the question if you weren’t ready for the other answer”

He sighs, eyebrows raising slightly as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have asked at all, you’re right.” he scoffs. “I realized that, and I should have realized when we started to drift away” you frown softly, waiting for him to continue. You’re not sure what he truly means beyond that. “I asked you to marry me to be sure”

“Sure of what”

He chuckles and huffs out your name like what he means to say is evident; “You’re in love with Poe” his eyes soften, his expression relaxing as yours hardens. “Don’t try to tell me otherwise or I’ll go crazy” he laughs nervously.

“Look, I get it. He looks pretty damn close to perfect. But you should have done something about it. I shouldn’t have been the one to realize it.” he says. You sigh softly, taken aback. “This is why I’ve been avoiding you. To try to come to terms with it. Accept it.”

Knowing this is the reason Kass proposed somehow makes it simultaneously better and worse. But he’s right; he’s fucking right, you’re in love with Poe and that is exactly why you were crying on those stairs the night before Poe left for his mission, maybe it is time to face it for good and to stop trying to convince yourself that you’re just confused because of everything that has been happening in your relationship lately.

“I’m sorry” your voice is poisoned by guilt. If it feels awful for you, it must be even worse for him. He scratches his forehead awkwardly, not really knowing what to say to you. “I tried to deny it to keep it fair for you. But I think you’re right.” admitting it to him, the man you’re supposed to be with and have feelings for feels even worse than having to realize it yourself. “I’m sorry Kass.”

Kass pinches his lips in a defeated smile, “I can’t hold you back.” he huffs out in evidence. “He is too” he adds after a pause. “In love with you, I mean. It’s so blatantly obvious”

You scoff, shaking your head. “I know”

“So you can work this out” he declares with a weak smile. “I won’t be an asshole about it” he mumbles. “I should be angry but I’ve tried to accept it for a while.”

You nod, somehow grateful he is so understanding, feeling sorry that it’s been so transparent for him for so long. Not everyone would let it play like this. "Thank you, Kass."

He nods in return before sighing deeply, the weight of the past few days lifting slightly from his shoulders. “I wish you well. I mean it”

You nod again, tears welling up in your eyes. “You too.”

Your heart tightens when his look lingers over you before he turns away and exits your quarters; both relief and guilt weigh over you, and the silence that fills your room now feels much different than before.

—

You don’t love him; you are sure of that. It feels wrong and even though you still feel some sort of affection towards him, you’re not sure you can be friends anymore given how you left things off.

On the other side, when Poe hops off his X-Wing ladder after a week of being away, you don't know how to act around him anymore. You don’t know if you should go ahead and tell him everything you’ve ever wanted to tell him or if you should just pick the opposite option and avoid him as much as possible to try to ease your conscience a little.

And you do. You busy yourself with work as much as possible, avoiding running into him as much as possible, but eventually, he doesn’t really give you a choice.

“Are we okay? You didn’t even welcome me back. It’s been four days” it hasn’t even been twenty seconds since the meeting ended; the meeting you spent all your time trying to focus on instead of him.

His stupid flight suit is opened in a way that reveals his gray tank top and lets the chain around his neck slightly peek, and suddenly nothing about the First Order supply depot infiltration matters anymore.

“We are. I was busy” you affirm – you’re technically not lying. Though you were keeping yourself busy on purpose.

“I bet you were”

You frown. “Hey what do you m–”

“Kass talked to me.” he dodges.

“Oh” your voice drops, the idea of that scene so unnatural. “What did he say”

He shrugs slightly. “I think you know”

That’s a good thing they talked, somehow, no matter how much the idea terrifies you. It lifts a weight off your shoulders to know you won’t have to explain to Poe how you left things off with Kass, because you would almost rather get interrogated by the First Order than have to think about it again. “He was pretty mature about it, I’ll give him credit for that.” Poe affirms with a grin, causing you to huff out a laugh. “He also said he's resigning from the Resistance. ‘Says it has nothing to do with you, he's been thinking about it for a while” he nods with a pinch of his lips.

“Oh, okay” your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Well, ships will suddenly do better magically”

He snorts. “I’m just glad I never let him take care of mine. I think Jess was complaining about that the other day” you laugh, and he smiles at you endearingly as he watches you. “So, are we okay?” he asks more seriously, though a faint smile lingers over his face.

“Yeah, yeah, we are.” you nod, weakly smiling back at him. “It’s just been a rough couple of weeks” you admit as he gives you an empathetic smile in response.

“I know what I want but I don’t know if I’m ready,” you eventually declare cautiously, not wanting to hurt him or make him feel like you're trying to push him away. “It has all gone so fast and I think I want things to slow down a bit.” he nods understandingly before being obliged to turn when someone in the briefing room calls his name; he holds his hand up to have them wait and rests that same hand over your shoulder when he turns back to you, his gaze holding yours.

“Look– I don’t want you to jump right into this if you’re not a hundred percent sure about it.” he declares with as much conviction he has when he fights for what’s right.

“This is my thing– to jump head first into everything. That's why I acted the way I did the other night. And it was stupid considering the situation and some part of you probably hates me for it somehow so you have to be smarter about this” he insists. “And I know you will be. And even if it’s in one week or one year or five, I can handle it”

“Okay,” you mutter feebly, his firm gaze over you making your stomach flutter.

He turns back and glances at the person who was calling for him earlier, turning back to you. He hesitates, looking like he wants to say more but is unsure if he should.

“Alright. I got stuff to take care of” he eventually says with a faint sigh, like being teared out of that conversation with you physically hurts him.

“Okay Commander” you grin teasingly. He smiles and kisses the top of your head, your hand instinctively resting over his arm despite your decision to maintain some distance for the moment.

"You know where to find me if you need anything," he says quietly, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment longer before he steps away.

You’re still not sure what you really want as you watch him walk away, sending easy smiles to his peers as he reviews details with them for the next mission.

You think about it all over again, as you remain here in the back of the room, leaning against the wall; the way he looked at you, the understanding in his eyes, his patience and willingness to wait – it all seems so easy with him that jumping right in suddenly doesn’t make you so afraid anymore.

—

The sky isn’t particularly clear tonight. One could have picked a more scenic place to come rest to, one where clouds wouldn’t be covering D’Qar’s two moons like a thin, old veil ripped to shreds.

Poe turns at the unexpected sound of boots ruffling against the grass, a small smile growing over his face when you grunt softly as you sit down next to him.

“You lied when you said I’d know where to find you, because I’ve looked for you everywhere before finally finding you out there” you sigh softly, drawing a laugh out of him, his eyes crinkling softly.

He shrugs, “You still found me, so I technically didn't lie” he says with a smile.

“You've got a point,” you huff out, settling beside him. The air is cool, cooler than it has been those past few days. You can’t help your lips turning into a smile as Poe's face softly glows in the faint light of both moons, his gaze gentle as he looks over at you.

His eyes twinkle with amusement when he talks again, interrupted when you shift to press your lips to his, his words quickly lost on both of you. His voice fades into a small sigh against your mouth as his hand immediately, almost instinctively cups the side of your face. Your hands grip the lapel of his shirt tightly, gently pulling him closer to deepen the kiss; Poe’s chuckle vibrates against your lips as you pull away, a slight flush visible over his cheeks.

“What is this?” he asks amused, the look of surprise genuine over his face. This goes against everything you told him you wanted with him for now.

“This is me being smarter about this, being the bigger person.” you affirm in an attempt to sound confident, but you’re still slightly out of breath, your heart racing.

Poe looks at you with a teasing, feigned impressed expression before he goes in and kisses you back, the press of his lips soft yet firm against yours.

Everything around you seems to fade away as you make out for a beat, losing yourselves in this, the soft breeze of the evening tickling both of your faces though your face heats up even more when his thumb traces your cheek.

When he finally pulls back, Poe's hand is quick to find your own, his fingers fiddling and lacing with yours, his gaze on you still intense. “So much for going slow, huh?”

You chuckle, “Yeah, fuck that” you reply with a grin, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

You both fall silent for a while; it is rare for Poe Dameron to not run his mouth for longer than a few minutes, but the back and forth of his thumb over your hand and your head leaning over his shoulder seems to be enough for him at this moment.

You shatter the silence the moment the question crosses your mind. “What would you have done if I actually married him?”

He takes a deep breath, like the weight of the question takes a toll on him.

He smirks, “This would have probably made me join the First Order” he jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood. You huff out a laugh.

“Honestly?” he asks, his tone serious now. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t really know. What would have been the best option? The least worst? “I don’t know. But I would have skipped the wedding for sure.” you softly smile at him with a look of compassion, momentarily rendered speechless by his revelation.

He pinches his lips in a weak, beaten smile as he clearly pictures the scene in his mind again, just the way he did when you announced to him that Kass had proposed before eventually telling him you had refused. “Sorry. it would have hurt my poor loverboy heart way too much” he scoffs light heartedly though it’s barely a joke, just the truth.

“Well, next time I get married you’ll be the first person I invite” you promise with a light nudge at him, your hand reassuringly squeezing his.

“Next time huh?” he retorts with a playful smile, one that you mirror before the gentle push of his lips renders you breathless again. “Not if I invite you first sweetheart,” he jokes with one last kiss, your laugh barely audible.

Poe’s thumb traces circles on the back of your hand when he notices your gaze is there now, a faint smile remaining over your face. “Hey” he calls, urging you to look up at him. “One day at the time, okay?” he cocks his head forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “We don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

There’s no rush with him, no doubt, just the certainty that whatever happens, it will seem like the easier thing in the world;

Because you love him; you are sure of that.

—

any and every comment is greatly appreciated!!

star wars taglist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly @pigeonmama

also tagging people who seemed interested in this from the post related to this, please ignore me if you actually don't care<3 @lotusbxtch @piptoost @klillaah @lounilu @moonpascal

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fluff #star wars #oscar isaac

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milksnake-tea · 24 days

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hey all !! normally i wouldn't engage in something like this on my blog, but considering that it's happening to a friend of mine, i felt i had an obligation to speak out. sorry for clogging up the tags/interrupting your scrolling 😭

tldr: @/hxveneru has stolen the works of my good friend @lowkeyren not once, but twice and is deleting any comments calling them out.

edit: they've changed their user to @/yneri; if you've blocked them already, this doesn't really matter bc they're still blocked :) reminder to not engage with them, they're just looking for attention. block and ignore!

i know. fun stuff. proof is under the cut.

please note that i'm doing this of my own accord, and the only involvement ren has had in this post is me asking for permission to post it since, well, it's an issue mainly affecting her.

also i should say beforehand but. don't ??? send them death threats please 😭 we are better than that. i'm mainly making this to spread awareness about the issue :)

reblogs are appreciated to spread awareness.

first stolen work is ren's oneshot "drunk words, sober thoughts!" for aventurine here.

as you can see, it was posted on June 15th, a little over two months before hxveneru posted their own oneshot.

for reference. hxveneru is a new blog and all of their posts are in the month of september, proven here via their archive.

and here's the two oneshots side by side, with ren's on the left and the stolen one on the right.

notice how the oneshots are exactly word-for-word except for the title and synopsis? even the author's note is exactly the same. obviously i can't fit the whole thing here, but this should be enough.

honestly it's. i have to laugh at the audacity to just copy and paste like hello???

and here's the second work that was copied, with hxveneru's "diff scenarios w hsr men" taking from drabbles from two of ren's works.

these are the two fics that were stolen from, with their dates attached. both are posted far before september. links are here and here if you want to double check..

now let's look at the drabbles that were - once again, copy and pasted. first is blade's, again with ren on the left and the stolen one on the right (ren's is circled bc they didn't take the hcs part).

and here is the sunday drabble that was stolen.

so far, those are the only works posted on their blog. i was also informed that they had apparently stolen from @/exuvianen's post here but deleted it, but since said post is deleted, we don't have evidence for that so take it with a grain of salt.

but yeah! just wanted to let yall know out there, especially since the plagiarized works have already gained some traction and have 100+ notes on them. i've talked about them vaguely on my blog before, so if this sounds familiar, yeah this is them.

plagiarism is shitty, i shouldn't have to say that. it is not that hard to just write your own stuff. i know validation and publicity make you feel good, but stealing someone else's hard work is not the way to go. writers already have enough to deal with. just don't do it. what's the point of getting validation if it's not even your work?

again, don't send death threats, please. that's a bit far, and they likely won't even do anything since the plagiarizer has already been called out before and this was their response.

not a single ounce of remorse or shame. people have gotten way too comfortable on here.

also "who the hell is ren anyway" bestie you blocked her 😭😭 and ignored her ask to you. that's why ren can't dm her to sort it out privately btw, in case you were wondering.

anyways! that's all i have to say, thanks for sticking around this long and have a great rest of your day. hxveneru if you see this. hi ig ?? id say smth to you but i doubt you'd take it seriously so i won't <3

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asunsetgrace16 · 30 days

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Johnny Gaudreau: A Tribute

Johnny Gaudreau was born in Salem, New Jersey.

He was drafted by the Calgary Flames 104th overall in the 4th round of the 2011 NHL Entry Draft. He played hockey for Boston College for 3 seasons, from 2011-2014. He won the National Chapionship title in 2011, and the Hobey Baker Memorial Award as college hockey's best player in 2014.

Johnny spent 9 seasons with the Calgary Flames and 2 with the Columbus Blue Jackets. During his first full season with Calgary, he was selected to go to the 2015 All Star Game and was a Calder Memorial Trophy, and won the Lady Byng Memorial Trophy as the NHL's most gentlemanly player in 2017. He was a 7-time NHL All Star through his career. Johnny was known as "Johnny Hockey" and had incredible skill and success on the ice, despite his size. He played for the Columbus Blue Jackets for the past two seasons and quickly became a favourite.

This is a tribute to our beloved player, may Johnny and Matthew forever rest in peace.

For Johnny...

from me

I am forever going to be sad over losing Johnny, but I am also angry. Two amazing people would still be here if that driver simply decided not to get behind the wheel yesterday night. I wasn't a hockey fan when he was still playing for the Flames, but he was one of four players I knew. He always made me smile when he was shown on camera, and his memory will live on forever in Calgary. His positivity and kindness, his electric game. Johnny was so much more than a hockey player. He was a husband, a father. A son, a brother, a friend, a teammate. My heart and prayers go to his wife and children, parents, sisters, and family. And please, please, take time to grieve. Take time to remember Johnny and what he meant to you, and to the game. Rest in peace, Johnny Hockey, fly high.

I believe that it is a testament to a person's character that when tragedy strikes, there are hundreds or thousands of people mourning for them, regardless of whether they knew each other or not. That is what Johnny has done for the hockey community. His infectious excitement and passion has moved people in ways he probably never imagined. We may never hear Johnny Hockey echo through an arena in celebration of a goal, but we will hear it in celebration of his life, of his game. We will keep his legacy alive. Forever.

Here's to #13

from @chukys-mouthguard

Johnny was never mentioned on my blog prior to this news. And while I know I don’t need to explain or justify my sudden sadness, I’d just like to reiterate this point above. We don’t have to post about someone or obsess over them online to love them. Johnny was never a player I would’ve written fanfiction about or shared unhinged thoughts. I’d loved him and admired him from my time playing hockey, and he was unlike anyone else. I frequently explained that compared to all the other players I love or “obsess” over, Johnny is in a league of his own. The sheer love and admiration I had for what an amazing hockey player, but an even more amazing person he was is something I can’t put into words. Rarely do athletes or celebrities have an impact on me, but Johnny did. The idea that I won’t get to see him take the ice again in Nationwide Arena, I don’t get to hear commentators call him Johnny Hockey anymore, and most importantly the fact that this heartbreaking tragedy is undoubtedly sending shockwaves through a family that was looking forward to a weekend of celebration of love and togetherness at their sister’s wedding. It all hurts. And there are no words right now. I want to blink my eyes and have someone tell me I’m dreaming. My own mother called me on my way to work to tell me the news because she didn’t want me to find out through social media, that’s the impact this man had on me and I’m sure so many fans across the hockey community. My sister even reached out to make sure I was okay. So yeah, people can say “they are just an athlete” or “why are you so upset over someone you don’t know?” And I respect people having those opinions, but when players truly make a mark on the sport and the fans, it resonates with you. Because you feel like you know them, like they invite you into their world and give you a chance to look at them in new ways. My thoughts are with the entire hockey community that knew johnny, and most importantly his family as they endure this terrible loss of Johnny and Matthew 💔

johnny gaudreau has been my favorite nhl player since his college days, and I have no words right now. I have multiple jerseys of his, signed memorabilia, but I sadly never got to meet him and tell him how much i loved him as a person and a player. My love for him, if you know me offline, s was unmatched compared to any other player I obsess over online. This world is so cruel and I’m heartbroken. I’m so thankful to have seen him play on multiple occasions, but blue jackets games will not be the same without his #13 on the ice 💔😞

from @perfectlysaltycat32

I just want to say the passing of Johnny and Matty Gaudreau is such a sad and unfortunate moment. Every time I looked through social media and saw more snippets of what happened and how he is remembered it just gets so much more sadder. It's really tragic how this happened *the day before* their sisters wedding. A time where the whole family is sharing one of their happiest moments, and now it's going to be a time of grief. I think it is absolutely gorgeous how all the Calgary fans came together in memory of them with their memorial. They are truly loved everywhere in the hockey community. I hope that every player has access to good therapy and counseling because this is such a rough way to start the season, but I am glad with how positive all of their friends, family, and teammates are. It really just once again shows how loved both of them are. They had a great life, were amazing people, and it deserved to be longer. But now they can watch over their families, teammates, and friends. I'm sending my condolences to everyone affected. Johnny was an amazing father, husband, son, brother, friend, captain, and teammate. He is and always will be Johnny Hockey. Matty was also an amazing husband, son, brother, teammate, and friend. It is deeply saddening that his wife has to raise her expecting baby without him. I hope everything goes smoothly as they can for her, and she and the baby can be healthy. Everyone loves you both, Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. You will be loved and missed. 🕊️❤️

from @wehaveagathering

When I first got into hockey I heard about a guy named "johnny hockey" and I thought that this was like, a legend — someone like Gretzky or Lemieux, who had been so good that he'd had the game incorporated into his name forever. Imagine my surprise when I learned that this dude was just Johnny Gaudreau, not just a legend but an active one too, one still playing. I thought that was really cool. I figured he must have done something really special to earn that nickname. Turns out it wasn't just what he did — it was who he was. Rest easy, Johnny Hockey. You built a legacy that will live for a long time.

from @traiteursroe

I want to take a moment to talk about Johnny and Matty Gaudreau today. Absolute icons. “Johnny Hockey” has been a name that has been recognizable in sport since 2014. He was a gentleman and a fast fucking skater. His brother Matty was smart and talented. The fact that they’ve been taken away from their families by a drunk driver is heartbreaking and inexcusable. Spare a thought and a prayer for them today.

from @crow-the-unknown

just saw the news about johnny gaudreau and his brother's death and i'm honestly at a loss for words. my heart aches for his family and all the friends he's made throughout his career. i can't even put into words how horrible and devastating this is for everyone in the hockey community. sending my prayers their way. i'm fucking wrecked about this. if i could say more i would but. i don't even know. it doesn't even feel real.

from @callsign-denmark

Rest in Peace Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. This was a horrible and tragic loss to the hockey community but more importantly a tragedy to your families. My prayers go out to them all. The hockey community has woken up today to the tragic knew of the passing of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau who were killed last night while riding their bikes in their hometown by a drunk driver who was speeding while trying to pass other vehicles who were going slow to pass the brothers safely. Both brothers were hit from behind, and died due to their injuries. They were in their home town for their sister Katie's wedding which was set to take place today. Johnny and Matthew were not just hockey players, but brothers, sons, husbands, fathers, uncles and friends to many people who are now without their loved ones on a day that was supposed to be filled with joy and love. Please let all of us in the hockey community, as fans, to take a moment of silence no matter what team you cheer for, and send out a silent prayer to the family who will no longer get to hold Johnny and Matthew in their arms, who will no longer get to watch them grow old playing the game they loved, and to the children growing up without a father and uncle to guide them throughout life and love them. While we feel sorrow and sadness over this lose, it's nothing compared to their families who will have to live this life without them.

from @19mercer

all of the insta story posts from many hockey players, teams, and other sport leagues for johnny and matthew gaudreau make me cry. all of the support for their families is genuinely so sweet. i wish nothing but the best for their families during this hard time. i will forever be grateful that i was able to watch him play in the nationwide arena. i am forever grateful for johnny and his time as a blue jacket. and his time with us. thank you for everything 13. rest easy johnny and matthew.

from @bibliomoth

I adored Johnny because he was a such a small streak of lightning in a game full of huge dudes who were regularly a whole foot taller than him. His skills were just fucking phenomenal and he was so exciting to watch. I screamed with joy and cheered him on so loudly I lost my voice on many occasions. He represented his country for International Competitions and is the highest US point scorer. I could get technical and talk about my favourite goals of his, his stickhandling, dangles, on ice spatial awareness etc but it is all on film for anyone to see, just too much to choose from. Nobody moved like Johnny Hockey. As a person he was a sweet, kind guy who was universally liked in the sport and beyond. I do not follow celebrities on social media, but on hockey forums there are endless stories of his voracious love of mac and cheese (so much so Kraft put him in a TV ad) and skittles candies that he had a hockey stick covered in them and auctioned for charity. In interviews he always talked hockey and his family. Whenever asked about new contracts and paycheques he would just shrug and say ‘yeah I bought my dad a boat so we can go fishing’ or ‘I just got a cool new wheelchair lift installed in my holiday home so my cousin can come and spend time with me’, or change the subject and talk about his dog, his wife and kids or The Birds. He was a real gem of a gentleman, modest and always ready to give credit to his team and dad (legendary NJ coach Guy Gaudreau) who motivated Johnny to skate as a toddler by placing skittles candies on the ice for him to fetch. I’m am so sad for him, his family. This is just a blurb of feels about someone I counted down the days for until I could see them make magic on ice. I wish I could write a good tribute, dammit. Thank you Johnny Hockey.

from @blusical

Johnny was more than a hockey player. He was a friend, father, son, brother, whatever you say. And please, don't forget about Matthew too. In fact, don't forget about any of the Gaudreau family, they're struggling too.

from @slavet0thegrind

Man, the news about Johnny Gaudreau's passing has shaken this entire city. I've never cried over the death of an athlete before. Until today. He may have been traded, but everyone in Calgary loved that man so much. The fact that right now the steps of our arena are covered in purple Gatorade and flowers on honor of him says so much. I have also heard that people are flocking to what we refer to as "the Red Mile" tonight to honor him, which is a street downtown that turns into one big party whenever the Flames play a game during playoffs. Everyone pours out of the arena and heads down there to celebrate, or watches the game at bars on that street if they're not at the game. Johnny reignited the Flames when they were starting to burn out, he led that team for so long. We didn't call him Johnny Hockey for no reason. And for him and his brother to be tragically killed the day before their sister's wedding by a fucking drunk driver... It's unbelievably heartbreaking. Rest in Peace Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau 💔😭

from @areyoutherelarry

There are not any words to express how deeply sad and awful it is to hear about the killing of the Gaudreau brothers. They seemed like wonderful humans who positively impacted those around them. They had families who were clearly ripped through by this horrific tragedy. There are wives who will have to raise kiddos without their partners, and kiddos who won't have their dads around. Parents who outlived their kids. A sister who didn't get married. It's bleak shit. There's also a team that has faced so much tragedy. Boone Jenner has had to support the team through two tragic deaths (and faced his own personal loss this year), anyone who was around when Matiss Kivlenieks died, and Sean Monahan who was so excited to be reunited with Gaudreau. This is just heavy shit.

from @brb-counting-stars

today is such a hard day, but take inspiration from johnny to live life by being the kindest and generous person you can. take inspiration from the way he didn’t know if he would be able to make it into the show and pushed on anyways. take inspiration from the kind of brother he was. take inspiration from all the stories of what he would do for fans he spent mere moments with but those memories stayed with them for years, the philanthropic work he would do all throughout his career. take inspiration from the guy that grinned as brad marchand yapped at him from the opposite penalty box and then went on to score a hat trick, the teammate that was so beloved he inspired his buddy to sign with a team so that they could play together again. take inspiration from the nine-year-old kid that earned the nickname “love machine”, the twenty-seven-year-old man who finished his bachelor’s degree nine years later because he made a promise to his mom. and of course, you can’t forget the stories of him taping pucks to himself for weighing in at the combine, or writing a paper in college on how to make a ham and cheese sandwich, or how he would wipe red sauce off his meatballs, or how he got sick from mainlining nutella to gain weight for the season, or how he tried to cash his first paycheck at a random bar atm, or how he wore yeezys to ride a horse at the calgary stampede. live life to the fullest and remember johnny’s kindheartedness, humility, and positivity. his presence and spirit will really be missed throughout the hockey community.

from @hufflepuffhabs

Ever since seeing the devastating news yesterday afternoon while at work, I've been thinking of what the right words are in a situation as hopeless as this. There is no return button, no undo. In Memory of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau Ever since seeing the devastating news yesterday afternoon while at work, I've been thinking of what the right words are in a situation as hopeless as this. There is no return button, no undo. A family, a community left with empty spots. All the circumstances make it only sadder and more tragic. There are no right words, but there are tokens of hope, showing up and lighting a candle in memory and remembrance for not only two incredible hockey players but humans. When I was a little tween hockey fan, I really liked the Calgary Flames. Mostly because they drafted a Swiss guy 1st round, but they had many other young prospects, Johnny being probably the brightest. But as for many, it was his character that impressed me most, a Skittle loving child-at-heart guy that left it all on the ice. I will always remember how disappointed he was when they did not all him to do a stunt with a burning stick at the All-Star Game. May Johnny and Matthew rest in peace. And may we think of their family and of all families that have lost loved ones in this tragic way.

from @tattoed-and-toothless

Fly high and rest easy Johnny and Matthew 🕊 You left behind a lot of amazing memories to be remembered by. The hockey world is rallying around your family, they'll be well taken care of ♥️

from @sportspuckball

I've driven that road. Fuck that driver for literally ever. May Matthew and Johnny's memories forever be a blessing to all who loved them, knew them, and were impacted by them. So many of us knew Johnny, but I'm also thinking a lot about the high school kiddos that Matthew coached. Every aching moment of this fucking sucks. Don't let anyone tell you that grieving someone you don't know personally is stupid -- grief is grief and it is yours. Do what you need to process it as you see fit. The only thing any of us *need* to do is respect the family's privacy as they grieve, too.

from the Columbus Blue Jackets

The Columbus Blue Jackets are shocked and devastated by this unimaginable tragedy. Johnny was not only a great hockey player, but more significantly a loving husband, father, son, brother and friend. We extend our heartfelt sympathies to his wife, Meredith, his children, Noa and Johnny, his parents, their family and friends on the sudden loss of Johnny and Matthew. Johnny played the game with great joy which was felt by everyone that saw him on the ice. He brought a genuine love for hockey with him everywhere he played from Boston College to the Calgary Flames to Team USA to the Blue Jackets. He thrilled fans in a way only Johnny Hockey could. The impact he had on our organization and our sport was profound, but pales in comparison to the indelible impression he made on everyone who knew him. Johnny embraced our community when he arrived two years ago, and Columbus welcomed him with open arms. We will miss him terribly and do everything that we can to support his family and each other through this tragedy. At this time, we ask for prayers for the Gaudreau family and that their privacy be respected as they grieve.

from the Calgary Flames

It is with great sadness, we mourn the tragic deaths of our friend Johnny Gaudreau and his brother Matthew Gaudreau. Our hearts are broken by this devastating loss. Johnny was and always will be a member of the Flames family and loved by all of Calgary. It was our privilege to call Johnny our teammate for nine amazing years in Calgary. He came to Calgary as a young man and grew up here, not only as a superstar on the ice, but also a beloved member of our community. The pain we feel for Johnny's wife Meredith, children No and Johnny, parents Jane and Guy, sisters Kristen and Katie, and the entire Gaudreau family is immense. Ownership, management, players, and staff of the Calgary Flames express our heartfelt spates during their time of sorrow. You are in our thoughts and prayers ❤️

from Brad Treliving

I am absolutely devastated by the news of Johnny Gaudreau and his brother Matthew's passing. John was truly a special player, dazzling on the ice with his incredible talent, but what made him truly special was the person he was off the ice. His thousand-watt smiles and infectious personality were matched only by his love for his family, friends, and those close to him. He brought joy to everyone around him and to the many who never knew him but marvelled at his excellence on the ice. John was a beloved teammate and a friend to so many in the hockey community, and he will be deeply missed by all of us who had the privilege of knowing him. My heart goes out to the entire Gaudreau family - to his mom and dad, Jane and Guy; his sisters, Kristen and Kate; his loving wife, Meredith; his precious children, Noa and Johnny; and everyone affected by his unimaginable loss. Family was everything to John, and in his memory, please hug those close to you tighter and longer today and every day.

from Gary Bettman

(paraphrased)...While Johnny's infections spirit for the game and show-stopping skills on the ice earned him the nickname "Johnny Hockey", he was more than just a dazzling hockey player; he was a doting father and beloved husband, son, brother, and teammate who endears himself to every person fortunate enough to have crossed his path... ...He will be remembered fondly in Calgary, where he played his first nine seasons with the Flames form 2013-14 to 2021-22, emerging as one of our League's brightest young stars while compiling the franchise's fits-highest career points total. His loss also will be felt profoundly in Columbus, the city in which he chose to settle his family and where he was one of the respected, veteran leaders of a club building toward the playoffs. And both Johnny and Matthew will be mourned at Boston College, where they were teammates the year Johnny won the Honey Baker Award in 2013-14, and at Gloucester Catholic High School in New Jersey, where both played and where Matthew was the head coach following his own five-year pro playing career. We send our most heartfelt condolences to his wife Meredith; their children, Noa and Johnny; his parents, Guy and Jane; and sisters Kristen and Katie. And we grieve alongside his teammates, members of the Columbus and Calgary organizations, his many friends hockey and countless fans around the world for whom he created incredible memories on and off the ice.

from Pascal Vincent

I want to extend my deepest condolences to the family of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. This tragedy has left me speechless and in shock. Over the years, I had the privilege of getting to know the real Johnny Gaudreau - the person behind the hockey player. He was a humble and unassuming young man with extraordinary talent, who never sought to be in the spotlight. Instead, he enjoyed life's simple pleasures and possessed a quiet strength of character. His passion for the game and exceptional hockey sense allowed him to achieve greatness, yet he remained grounded and true to himself. I had the pleasure of meeting his wonderful family, including his wife, children, and parents. My thoughts are with them today. It's an honor to have known not only the incredible hockey player but also the kind and beloved person Johnny was to everyone he met. Wherever we went, people admired him on and off the ice. Despite his success, he remained humble and genuine. Johnny, you toughed so many lives with your kindness and contagious smile. I feel fortunate to have known you so closely. Your memory will stay with me forever. Rest in peace Johnny.

from @love-youu-softly

When I first got into hockey, I was feeling really lost. The flames were one of the first teams I became a fan of, and so many nights were spent alone in my room at 20 years old watching the flames and Johnny hockey. Will forever be important to me.

from @primakira

johnny gaudreau was the first player i ever learned about when i was trying to get into hockey. he was a spitfire on the ice and an even greater person off of it. i'll probably write something longer later since i can't even type this through my tears, but for now, thank you so much for everything, johnny. 💙 rest in peace to his brother matthew as well. such an unimaginable tragedy. my heart goes out to the entire gaudreau family and to everyone that loved them.

out of all the players i like in the nhl, johnny has a special place in my heart because he was the first player i ever knew. he's the reason i got into the sport during the pandemic. even before connor mcdavid or sidney crosby, there was johnny hockey. as soon as i saw his small stature and big smile, i was hooked. his smile was infectious, his hands were amazing, his skating was mesmerizing (his lil strides were so cute too), and his heart was all-encompassing. every night, you couldn't believe the things he could do. he was a spitfire on the ice - constantly underestimated but tenacious as hell. furthermore, he was kind, humble, funny, and down to earth. there's a reason everyone loved him. hell, his team would wage a war for him (matty tkachuk i'm looking at your penalties during that stars series). off the ice, he was a family man through and through. he loved his family so fucking much and he loved his community so much. all he wanted was the perfect place to call home for his kids and he found it. johnny encapsulated the joy of hockey, and he took that joy with him today. my heart goes out to everyone who loved him and matthew, especially their family and friends. the world lost two bright stars in a heartbreaking and senseless tragedy. thanks for everything, johnny. may you and matthew rest in peace. 🕊

from @bedsyandco

so shocked and saddened by the news of johnny and matthew gaudreau’s passing. this is such horrible news and I can’t even fathom the grief and loss that everyone who knew them is feeling right now. I truly hope that their family and friends have the utmost support and love right now. sending love and prayers to everyone affected by this loss 🩷

from @soffsh

Truthfully what is there to say, I knew getting on here would be so utterly painful. Seeing all these black and white pictures of Johnny and Matthew doesn’t seem real. The world has lost an incredible hockey player, father, husband and person in Johnny Gaudreau. I was hoping and praying last night that we wouldn’t be making these posts today, but we weren’t that fortunate. My deepest and sincerest condolences to the family and friends of Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau. As well as the whole fan base of not only the Columbus Blue Jackets but the Calgary Flames who have lost a friend and a family member. Johnny and Matthew you will be missed so dearly amongst the hockey community, but not nearly as much as by your family. Rest in Peace, boys.

from @alexandretexiers

Only a few days ago, Kivi would have been 28. Just for another unimaginable tragedy happening only days later, took the lives of Johnny Gaudreau and his brother Matthew. Both brothers were taken from their mother and father, sisters, wives and children. Children who are all under two, with one not even born yet. I’ve been crying most of today, and I can’t even imagine the pain their families are in. One of their sisters was supposed to get married today, with her brothers by her side as groomsmen. And the bastard that killed them doesn’t even feel any remorse. Rest easy, Johnny and Matthew. You both will be dearly missed

from @rumandwhine

Had to take a day before I could even try to articulate any of this; I've never been this genuinely devastated by the loss of a public figure before. I can't express enough of my heartbreak and condolences for the entire Gaudreau family, I can't even imagine their loss and I won't insult their grief by trying. All I can do is thank them for letting us, the fans, get to know their amazing son, brother, husband, father for a while - it was truly a joy to watch and root for him. And to everyone else - the other fans in mourning or shock or whatever indescribable emotion you're feeling right now - all I can do is remind you that time is precious. Hug your parents, call your siblings, tell your partner you love them. I've already gotten years more than Johnny and Matthew will ever have; I intend to try and make the rest of the ones I'm allowed to mean more then the ones before them. I think that's the only way any of us can really honor their lives. Stay safe. And take care of yourselves.

from @wannabehockeygf

I wish I had all the words, but I don’t. They were so incredibly loved, and so young. My heart goes out to their family and friends. RIP Johnny Hockey & Matthew Gaudreau. Life is so fucking precious.

from @sweetestdesire

The Columbus Blue Jackets have unfortunately lost a few too many, and my heart is aching so bad for Johnny Gaudreau and his family. I can’t even begin to imagine how the team, his wife and children, and his family must be feeling right now. It’s times like this when we realize just how precious life really is. A life that touches others goes on forever. May Johnny and his brother, Matthew rest in peace.

from anonymous

this whole situation is so incredibly devastating. i’ll always remember johnny being afraid of both the CBJ cannon and the penguins at the calgary zoo 😔. while everyone should mourn and grieve as they do, please take the time to remember the happy moments and wonderful memories! seeing the outpour of love from brings me comfort and i can only wish the same for the gaudreau family.

from @bitchinbarzal

Dogs loved him, penguins startled him He was an amazing guy! I met him in Ohio, nicest guy - he deserves to be remembered that way 💙

from @mikkomacko

The first hockey jersey I ever bought was a #13 flames jersey I didn’t grow up in a hockey state, don’t have any friends or family that watch or follow the sport. Every time I asked for a jersey on a holiday or birthday I never got one. No one here knew what to get, where to look for one. I found the jersey for resale and used scholarship money my freshman year of college to buy it. I’m an Avs fan. I went to school in Colorado. But Johnny was one of the first players I ever saw on the tv and I liked his name and number. And I loved how he carried himself on and off the ice. I loved his love for the game and the way he played it. No matter the team, the number, the jersey, whatever I always wanted him to win. Today has been tough for so many and while it’s heartbreaking it’s so heartwarming to see how many players, fans, athletes, and people in general loved and cheered for not just Johnny but his brother too. Sending healing thoughts to his friends, family, and teammates. And to everyone else that was a fan of him like me.

from @strangelymint

I didn't watch much hockey growing up, I've only really started to consistently watch it and keep up with it since the playoffs of the 2021-2022 nhl season. However, the few times I did watch it growing up and starting to keep up with hockey, I remember watching Johnny Gaudreau so well. He was one of the players that made hockey and the Flames so fun, and he had such a huge positive impact on Calgary that I felt even before I watched those playoffs. I wish I got to watch him play more. Rest in peace to Matthew and Johnny Gaudreau and my heart goes out to their family and friends.

from @richards-mike

30/08 - dear johnny hockey, everyone knew your name. i knew it as well. it's difficult to put everything that i'm feeling into words & you kept being in my mind since i opened instagram at work today and that the first post that i saw was the devastating news that you passed away in some deeply disturbing and disgusting circumstances. you were the kind of player that was unique. you had a great talent on the ice, there is no doubt about it, but most importantly a you had the biggest and greatest heart of gold out there. you were the kind of player that everyone could cheer for and that we could admire in silent. you were our ✨special little guy✨ hockey was part of it. but the human part was the most important as well. we never know how much we can lose before we do. your remind us all today that life is fragile. but you reminded me that the world is still a good place. that people still can come together to remember the impact that a simple human can have when they choose kindness. you may be gone today, johnny but you will never be forgotten <13

from @annieqattheperipheral

(paraphrased) I keep getting waves of omg he's really gone. Like really really. We know there are going to be a lot of pregame tributes but like how you gonna do that and then expect anyone to do their jobs after without the entire arena from fans to teams to staff erupting in tears, times 32 rinks across the continent and probably flames and cbj's ahl teams and other teams too. agh. Grieving is so much. I'm glad we have our supports here with each other. Whenever i need to let something out i might post here (always tagging so you can step away, filter if you ever need to knowing what you can or can't handle that day). And so when johnny and matty's spouses each posted about their husbands this weekend.. i was amazed. And happy. I mean as i could be. Because it meant that they were being taken care of, they were supported so well they had no inclination of going inward and isolating. (I mean i withdrew so hard after i hit so many blocks with my family. I didn't post until a month later, informing so many ppl in my life.) Instead the gaudreaus were so open and sharing and that filled me with so much awe of the love and care within their family. Johnny and matty were so . well . loved. Matthew Tkachuk is one of the few players i keep notif on for and he was the one i learned the news from and every time he posts he proves yet again how incredible his family is, that he is being taken care of as well. That's a guy who has let us into his grief and i can't thank him and other players posting enough, that it's not radio silence. That we're sharing in this pain. Incredibly grateful.

from Matthew Tkachuck

Absolutely devastated. I will miss seeing that smile! RIP Hockey! love you bro 💔

from Rasmus Andersson

Trying to find the right words today is not easy. You were a hell of a hockey player but it's the person Johnny that was always is going to be with me, one of my closest friends, it didn't matter if we hadn't spoken in a day or a week we always knew where we had each other! There hasn't been a dry eye in the Andersson house today we all love you Johnny. Looking back at this picture with a smile and a tear, we were very hungover laughing about this the next morning... To Meredith Noa and Johnny Jr we're always here for you and we love you ❤️ Rest in peace uncle Johnny and Matty 🕊️

from Mikael Backlund

I can't believe it's true... I'm gutted. I'm going to miss you buddy. My thoughts are with the entire Gaudreau family. 💔

from Blake Coleman

It's hard to find the words so I'll keep it short. One of the best guys to be around, always had that big smile on your face and never passed up a good time. A great dad and husband to that beautiful family of yours. You will be missed by so many. Praying for your entire family in this incredibly difficult time. Thanks for the memories Johnny, you won't be forgotten. Rest easy #13

from Elias Lindholm

Completely heartbroken. Gonna miss you my friend. Sending all our love to the Gaudreau family. Rest in peace Johnny and Matthew 🕊️❤️

from Cole Caufield

We all lost an amazing person, both on and off the ice, in last week’s tragedy. My deepest condolences go to the entire Gaudreau family, especially Johnny’s wife and two kids, who I had the pleasure of meeting. Nothing will be able to fill the void in their families and loved ones hearts, but I hope it provides some comfort to know how these two positively impacted the lives of so many. They will truly be missed. Getting to play with your hero is something that most people only dream of. I was lucky enough to be Johnny’s teammate this past summer and it didn’t take long to realize how great of a person he was. He was the most welcoming, genuine, and funniest guy I have ever met. He was someone everyone gravitated towards and I took every chance I could to be around him. Not only was he an amazing hockey player and teammate, but he was down to earth and truly cared about every person he encountered. The last few years playing as #22 have been some of the best years of my life. It truly has been a dream come true and I will forever hold those memories and that number close to me. I wore #13 at a point in my career because of Johnny and now I will be wearing it again to honor him. He paved the way for smaller players and proved we had a future in this game at the highest level. I will forever be grateful to him for inspiring me and others. Rest in Peace, Johnny hockey.

from Boone Jenner

I'm absolutely heartbroken to be posting this but John deserves to be honoured, today and always. Take the hockey out of Johnny. You have one of the best friends, teammates, sons, brothers, husbands, and above all, fathers out there. It's impossible to put into words how much we will miss you man. I'll miss the backdoor tap ins, our battles at the card table, our gold matches, but most of all I'll miss you wearing black dress shoes with shorts on every Florida trip. Our thoughts and prayers are with eh Gaudreau and Morris family and everyone affected by this unimaginable tragedy and loss. I love you buddy. May Johnny and Matthew rest in peace.

from Jarome Iginla

While I never had the privilege to play with Johnny, the times we met or played together, I could feel how special he was. Johnny hockey made our sport better in many special ways. My family and I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to have spent time with Wim, and we will always be his fans. With broken hearts, we pray for the Gaudreau family and friends during this devastating time.

from Lanny MacDonald

You were magic, Johnny Hockey

I was in the 'Dome the night he scored in overtime to send the Flames to the second round of the playoffs in 2022. I swear the foundation of that old building was shaking, the eruption from the crowd was so violently joyous. It was the outpouring of love, awe, and gratitude for our fiery hero...watching the passion and fervour Johnny Hockey played with felt electric. There are no words that can match the tragedy of what has happened. Waking up to the news of Johnny and Matthew's passing hit my family like a ton of bricks, not only for their senseless deaths, but the gripping heartbreak for their loved ones who face the unimaginable. Let the hockey world rally around the Gaudreaus, their families and friends, and although we can't even start to understand the depth of their shock and pain, I hope they are overwhelmed with the outpouring of love and support. Go easy on those legends up there in heaven's hockey rink, boys. You're getting there earlier than expected, but they'll take good care of you. Godspeed Johnny and Matthew, Godspeed ❤️

from Jaromir Jagr

I honestly never thought I'd write a text like this to a post. Yea that goal was my last NHL goal. Yes, that's a pretty nice goal. Yes, it was a beautiful pass above all. Unfortunately, life can sometimes be incredibly cruel. Thank you Johnny for being there and giving hope to all the guys with your incredible performances, that though they are not the biggest and toughest, they can succeed at the NHL world class just like you did. My condolences to the whole family. R.I.P to you and your brother

from Wayne Gretzky

Janet, myself and our entire family are devastated as this senseless tragedy. We are sending our love, thoughts, and prayers to the Gaudreau family. We lost two young men who were loved and a huge presence both on and off the ice. Johnny and Matthew, you will always be remembered and missed.

#‣ ✦ ‣ johnny 🕊️ ❤️#johnny gaudreau #johnny gaudreau tribute #johnny hockey

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