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certaimromance · 2 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 In Pink Sheets.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: After spending the first night with Spencer, doubts arise about the nature of your behavior at work from now on. How could you not make it obvious that you two had already passed all the bases?

Words: 3k.

Warnings & Tags: +18 (for suggestive talk, they are naked lol, aftercare? but no explicit). bau!reader. established relationship. reader is overthinking and being dramatic (literally me). first “I love you” yep. making out interrupted. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Literally my sheets are pink, this is personal and pure fluff to try to fix my tortured heart.

The world outside barely existed. The light filtering through the curtains felt softer, the air warmer, the distant clatter of construction dull and unimportant. Everything that mattered was here, wrapped up in the quiet rise and fall of Spencer’s chest beneath your cheek. Your pink sheets tangled around you felt almost too soft, like they might dissolve if you moved too quickly. But you didn’t want to move anyway. Not yet. Please.

His arm was placed gently around your back, and his fingers drew simple circles against your skin. You could feel his heartbeat, steady and rooted, as your breaths gradually came into sync. It was the closest you had ever been to a state of pure bliss.

You moved slightly, just enough to feel him tilt his chin down, to feel him sweep over you with a careful gaze that made you feel completely seen and literally naked. His breath caught, his throat cleared slightly, and you knew what was going to happen before he even tried.

“Don’t even think about asking if it was good,” you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his skin. “It wasn’t good. It was perfect.”

You definitely knew him a lot.

His chest shifted under you as a soft, nervous laugh escaped him, breaking the quiet. It wasn’t the kind of laugh that carried confidence or certainty—it was shy, almost unsure, and it made you lift your head slightly to look at him. His cheeks were flushed, a faint pink that spread up to the tips of his ears, and his lips curved in a sheepish smile as he avoided your gaze.

“What’s so funny?” You asked gently, your voice low and curious, tilting your head to study him.

He glanced at you then, his eyes meeting yours for just a second before flickering away again, as though the intensity of the moment made him squirm. His fingers, which had been tracing lazy circles on your back, paused, and you felt him take a breath like he was gathering his words.

“It’s just…” he started, his voice soft, hesitant. “I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that…this is real. That you’re here. That we’re here.”

His words hung between you, vulnerable and raw, and you felt your heart ache with a warmth so deep it was almost overwhelming. You reached up, brushing your fingers along his jaw, coaxing his gaze back to yours.

“Hey,” you said softly, your thumb tracing the curve of his cheek. “I’m here. This is real. You’re finally in my bed, and now I’m probably going to have to figure out how not to smile so much at work.”

A slow, genuine smile spread across Spencer’s face at your words, and for a moment, you both just looked at each other, as if savoring the perfect reality of the moment. He exhaled, his tension easing slightly, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that hinted at both excitement and uncertainty.

“You think you’re going to be able to hide that smile?” He teased, his voice a little more confident now, but still carrying that softness that made your heart flutter.

“Probably not,” you replied, the hint of a smile tugging at your own lips. “But I’ll try. For the sake of professionalism, of course.” You raised an eyebrow as you added, “It’s not like anyone needs to know I had a…very good moment.”

“Moment?” He smirked, eyes glinting with amusement. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

You bit your lip, feigning innocence as a faint heat rose in your cheeks. “I didn’t want to be too explicit. You might not be able to handle it.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that,” he quipped, his grin widening into something sly, the corners of his mouth betraying his growing confidence.

It's hard to believe that this is the same shy, awkward boy who, before he started dating you, could barely look you in the eye without stuttering or turning red.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, your tone playful but sharp as you leaned in closer. “Well, aren’t you bold now?” You tilted your head, studying him with mock seriousness. “I think I might have corrupted your innocent soul.”

And in a way you already had. For some reason, you had the genius that everyone told their secrets to because they thought he had no one to air them with, telling everything to you and having to hide his own secrets. Two months of dating and sneaking kisses were under a thousand keys, and no one suspected anything. Thank God.

It was common knowledge, especially for someone like Reid, who could recite all the FBI rules without a problem, that romantic relationships were off-limits between coworkers. Even though you understood the logic from day one and knew that feelings and professionalism could be a dangerous mix, you still couldn't help but fall for someone like Spencer without return.

However, it wasn't your fault. I mean, who wouldn't fall in love with someone they see every day and who is clearly the perfect man? You just blinked, and there you were, already dreaming about him and feeling butterflies every time you heard his nervous laughter or ramblings on different topics. If your team hadn’t noticed the way your gaze lingered a little too long or how you always seemed to brighten when he entered a room, it was pure luck.

“You know,” you began thoughtfully, breaking the silence, “I read something once…about how people can always tell when two people have…slept together.”

Reid tilted his head slightly to look at you, his brows drawing together in curiosity. “Oh?” he asked, his tone both amused and intrigued. “And where exactly did you read that?”

You hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. “Um…” you started, biting your lip as your cheeks warmed. “It was in a magazine.”

His eyebrows lifted, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a barely contained smile. “A magazine?” he repeated, the question laced with playful skepticism.

You rolled your eyes, groaning softly as you buried your face in his chest. “Okay, okay, I know. It’s not exactly the kind of reading you’d respect, but I was sixteen, okay? It was one of those random magazines my mom had lying around the house.”

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest beneath you. “I’m not judging,” he said, though the amusement in his voice made you peek up at him skeptically. “I just find it fascinating that a teen magazine would tackle…body language.”

Of course, he definitely wasn't the kind of person who read gossip or fashion magazines in his spare time. It was possible to believe that he had never even opened one in his life and had only seen them from afar, hanging next to the newspaper.

You groaned again, pulling a pillow closer as if to shield yourself from his teasing. “It wasn’t exactly a scientific study, okay? It was more like—‘How to Spot When Two People Have Chemistry,’ or something equally ridiculous. But it stuck with me for some reason.”

For some reason? Or because when you were bored, you played at analyzing people and their relationships?

His eyes softened, and though he was still clearly amused, he propped himself up slightly, leaning his head toward yours. “Okay, so tell me—what did this magazine say?”

You sighed dramatically, though you couldn’t keep the grin from your face. “It said people can’t help themselves. They look at each other differently. Their body language changes. The way they smile, how close they stand, the way their energy shifts. It’s like this unspoken, glowing secret, and apparently, everyone can see it.” Especially profilers.

His lips twitched again, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something softer. “So, according to this magazine, we’re giving off some kind of…post-coital signal?”

“Oh my, when you put it that way, it sounds even worse.” You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “That's something an old scientist would say.”

He laughed quietly, pulling your hands away so he could see your face. “Hey, I’m just trying to understand you. But I guess I can see the logic in that. People do give away a lot without realizing it.”

You exhaled, relieved that he wasn’t outright laughing at you. “Exactly,” you said, your confidence returning slightly. “And now I can’t stop thinking about how obvious we’re going to be at work. Like, what if everyone knows the second we walk in?”

It's easy to imagine your coworkers looking at you funny as soon as the elevator opens, Morgan making some jokes about your goofy smile, and you laughing in a way that makes it seem like you're not owning up to everything.

He smiled, his expression softening. “Well, if it’s true, then I think it’s more about them noticing how happy we look. Not anything…incriminating.”

“Just tell me, why would you be happy on a Monday morning?” you asked, tilting your head and narrowing your eyes in playful suspicion.

He gave a small shrug, his tone matter-of-fact. “Honestly, for us, is there even a difference? We work almost every day—it’s like weekends don’t exist.”

You chuckled at his answer, the playful spark in your eyes never quite fading. “I guess you’ve got a point here, Dr. Reid. But still, Mondays are supposed to be miserable, right? Isn’t that like, the universal rule?”

“Well, if we’re being honest, I think that’s just a myth. I mean, when you get to spend your weekends like this…” He gestured between the two of you with a light, affectionate movement, “Mondays don’t seem so bad.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes with a teasing smile. “And that’s exactly why everyone’s going to know what we’ve been up to when we show up at work. It’s like you have a neon sign flashing above your head saying, ‘I had an amazing weekend.’”

Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “I don’t know if that’s true. I think we’re good at keeping things under wraps,” he said, his voice light but carrying that hint of uncertainty.

It was a good argument; he had two months in his favor.

“Just...don't point your feet at me or hug me so closely." You said with surprising seriousness. “The magazine says those are clear signs.”

“I’m not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said quietly, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Feet and hugs, noted.”

Wow, he was taking it so seriously that it made you feel tender.

“Maybe we should act like we hate each other, put on a show.” You said, raising an eyebrow, unable to suppress a sly smile.

He gave a gasp, looking confused. “Oh, I’m not much of an actor, but if you want…”

You cut him off with a playful scoff. “It was a joke, sweetheart. I’m not really trying to pull off some dramatic office rivalry.”

“Good,” he replied quickly, his voice almost too serious, “because I don’t know how to act like I hate people I love.”

He…what?

You blinked, stunned. “People you what?” you asked, your tone catching in surprise.

His cheeks flushed a deep red, eyes darting away as though he were trying to escape the weight of his own words. “I…people I love,” he stammered.

You stayed silent, studying him, your gaze softening as the words lingered in the air between you. It was clear that this wasn’t something he said lightly, and his vulnerability made your heart ache in a way that was both comforting and new.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Spencer turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a fierce intensity that stole the air from your lungs. His breath was shaky, his words barely more than a whisper, but they struck you like lightning. “I love you,” he said, his voice full of quiet sincerity, each syllable wrapping around you like a promise.

He said it. He really said it.

“You love me,” you whispered, your voice shaky, as if the very sound of those words was too much to fully comprehend. You repeated it, a little louder this time, trying to grasp it, to make it real. “You, Spencer Reid, love me.”

He nodded, his eyes soft but unwavering, the faintest trace of a smile curving on his lips. “I do. Me, Spencer Reid, I love you.”

A soft, breathless laugh bubbled up from your chest, and before you could stop it, the smile that had been lurking there finally broke free. It was impossible to keep it in, not when everything inside you was overflowing with a joy you hadn’t known was possible.

“God…” you exhaled, your heart swelling with warmth. “I don’t think I can hide this smile now.”

The air between you both felt charged, like a fine thread of connection weaving you closer with each passing second. His gaze was soft but unwavering, a silent promise in his eyes that made everything else fade into the background. The gentle rhythm of his breath mingled with yours, and before you knew it, your hand instinctively found the back of his neck, your fingers brushing the soft skin there. You pulled him just a little closer, as if the pull of your desire and your heart was impossible to resist, a gravity stronger than any force you’d ever known.

He shifted beneath you, guiding you to lie on top of him. His hands were warm against your skin, and you could feel his pulse, steady and strong, under your fingertips. Slowly, your lips met in a kiss—tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but it deepened quickly, drawn by the magnetic force of everything left unsaid, all the things you were only just beginning to understand.

“You love me,” you whispered between kisses, the words tumbling out in disbelief, as if the very idea of it needed to be reaffirmed with each touch. “You love me.”

Spencer’s response was immediate, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer, his lips skimming the sensitive skin of your jaw, his breath hot and urgent against your ear. “I love you,” he breathed softly, the words coming out as a promise, each syllable wrapped in a depth that made your heart ache.

You kissed him again, this time with a softness that felt more vulnerable, more like a question—one you didn’t need an answer to, but you couldn’t help but ask anyway. “You love me,” you murmured, not sure if you were trying to convince yourself or him. But as you pulled him closer, his lips finding yours with a quiet urgency, you knew, deep in your bones, that it was true.

His lips found yours again, this time with a fervor that left you breathless. The kiss was deep, desperate—both of you giving in to the craving that had built up between you, a need so raw and powerful that neither of you could hold back. His tongue swept against yours, slow at first, savoring every moment, every sensation. But the deeper the kiss became, the faster it escalated, a fire starting to blaze where there had once been only a flicker.

“I do,” he whispered, the words coming out in a low, steady stream as his hands slid up your back to cradle your face. His touch was gentle but firm, as if he wanted to hold you forever, as if the very act of touching you was something sacred, something worth cherishing. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

The repetition of those words stirred something deep inside you, a quiet happiness that blossomed with every echo. You smiled against his lips, your heart swelling with warmth, and for a fleeting moment, you felt invincible, as though nothing in the world could touch you. It was just him and you, here, in this sacred space, and you didn’t care about anything else. Not the noise, not the chaos, not even time itself. Nothing mattered except this, except him.

His hands gently slid the sheet that still covered part of your body, the coolness of his fingertips contrasting with the warmth of your skin, and you couldn't help but shiver at the contact. You responded with a kiss, your lips meeting his in a passionate embrace. His mouth was everywhere: your lips, your neck, your jaw, tasting, exploring, claiming. It was as if time had stopped and there was nothing but the two of you, lost in this world of sensations and feelings.

But then, as if the universe couldn’t bear to let you stay in this blissful bubble for even a moment longer, there was a sudden, sharp buzz. It broke through the air with an almost cruel precision, pulling you both out of the fragile world you had created. You groaned into Spencer’s mouth, breaking the kiss reluctantly, your forehead resting against his. His chest was heaving beneath you, both of you struggling to regain control of your breaths, your bodies still humming with the aftershocks of the kiss.

The buzz came again, persistent, urgent. Your eyes flicked to the phone on the bedside table, and your stomach sank as you saw the name that appeared on the screen: Hotch.

His expression mirrored yours, frustration creeping across his face. “It’s a text…” he muttered, but he didn’t reach for his phone. He simply sighed and buried his face in your neck, the sudden weight of reality settling between you both.

You kissed his forehead softly, your fingers threading through his hair. “Not now…please,” you whispered, as if pleading with the universe to give you just a few more minutes of peace.

He chuckled lightly, but the sound was laced with a hint of frustration. “I’m sorry.”

You gave him a mock frown, but the smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrayed you. “How dare you,” you said with a sigh, unable to fully suppress the warmth in your chest.

Before you could kiss him again, another buzz came—sharp and relentless, interrupting the fragile peace. Spencer groaned, reaching for the phone with a resigned sigh. He checked the message, reading it without making any effort to sit up or pull away from you. You could see the familiar irritation flicker across his face as he absorbed the contents.

“It’s a case,” he said softly, his voice heavy with disappointment. “They need us. Now.”

And just like that, it's time to say goodbye to soft pink sheets and sweet kisses and hello to body language techniques for hiding the memories made in your bed and the fact that Spencer Reid loves you.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fluff

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tojipie · 1 year ago

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welcome home <3

he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah

as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)

“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.

you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.

toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago.

the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.

you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.

you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.

there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk.

metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.

he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.

“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.

warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.

you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder.

actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his.

toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper.

other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.

once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”

today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face.

you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt.

strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.

“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.

“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.

you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.

the second was well, the day he went away.

to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway

“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.

to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.

this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear.

you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really.

you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.

prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.

you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view.

“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes.

“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.

you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.

the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.

“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.

toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.

˚ ✧ ───────────

half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity.

the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.

“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.

the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.

the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change.

the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look.

he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside.

“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”

you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.

to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.

toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight.

seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.

the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later.

you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.

a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.

“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.

“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away.

“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.

the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.

“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.

“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.

the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.

waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.

you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade.

the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car.

toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”

you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles.

“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.

“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.

he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years.

“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”

˚ ✧ ───────────

you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.

the fourth time it happens, you speak up.

“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat

“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.

oh.. oh.

the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.

you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.

the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care.

you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.

“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.

“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”

fuck it, you think.

“you still remember how to steer?”

“course i d— oh.”

it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”

you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.

“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base.

your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.

your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.

“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.

“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”

fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.

“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him.

˚ ✧ ───────────

you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.

“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.

you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.

you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather.

“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”

“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”

you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.

when it came down to it, you suppose

he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.

“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.

the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were.

toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it.

he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.

this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure.

toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.

“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”

“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.

thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.

and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.

the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.

your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.

“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.

“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”

“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”

you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.

brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine

“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.

“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?”

you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.

hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.

you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.

“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.

“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there.

“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles

taglist ! 🏷️

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sanguineterrain · 1 year ago

Text

restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks.

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years.

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you.

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily.

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress.

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor.

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs.

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper.

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover.

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails.

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.”

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse.

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet.

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask.

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers.

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry.

“I got dumped,” you say.

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling.

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach.

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles.

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand.

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face.

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you.

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.”

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit.

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper.

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes.

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in.

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu.

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

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reignpage · 2 months ago

Note

Hi!! If you have the time- how would the jjk guys react to the reader giving them the silent treatment?

I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Gojo:

Would try to make you laugh at first When that doesn't work and he notices you're just getting more irritated, he'd start bribing you Buys you flowers, handbags, dresses, jewellery you name it If you're still silent, then he'll go deadly serious Would confront you in the dark, sitting on the sofa like he's been waiting for hours 'Is there nothing I can do? Are we done for good? Are you leaving me too?'

Geto:

Gets snarky Two can play that game He's not the calm and patient guy everyone thinks he is He just reacts in subtle ways Makes passive-aggressive comments But eventually will get tired, sighs and just asks you straight up what he did wrong 'Alright, what happened? Let me inside that head of yours.'

Choso:

Keeps asking you what's wrong Gets really sad and depressed Very much kicked puppy vibes Just follows you around everywhere Until you crack 'I didn't know what I did but I'm sorry. Please talk to me? I'm scared'

Toji:

LOL LMFAO ROFL This man would be soooo annoying He'd be smug as hell at first Says shit like 'It's nice to have peace and quiet here' 'You should get mad at me more often ma' BUT eventually realising you're not gonna crack He'll start to get nervous Starts cleaning up after himself Double checks to make sure the trash is out, he hasn't left any dishes in the sink, didn't miss any appointments or anniversaries etc etc Would send Megumi in to get a feel for your mood 'make yourself extra cute kid' 'ask her why she isn't speaking to me. no don't tell her I told you to. whose side are you on?'

Nanami:

Would ask you immediately if there's something wrong Is so mature and healthy it's irritating 'please communicate with me, darling. I can't apologise and fix whatever I ruined if you don't talk to me.' Eventually, he'll give you space But then you'll start feeling really bad because he'll assume that you hate him or something Like, he'll start buying sandwiches to take to work cause he thinks you won't make lunch for him like normal or sleeps on the couch eats dinner and watches shows by himself so you cave first and the smile he gives you is so worth it

Sukuna:

Doesn't notice a thing at first He isn't the type to be clingy, he's not the affectionate one, he mostly returns it So there'll just be a period of silence Until he begins to feel your absence in which case he'll seek you out and then becomes the clingy one 'it is a pleasant day out, would you care to join me for a stroll? gets sooo offended if you don't say anything 'no? would you prefer to stroll with someone else? tell me who and they will be killed. in fact, continue to remain in silence and everyone will be killed.'

Yuji:

Confused :0 asks Nobara for advice 'you're a girl, she's a girl. so tell me what's going on' 'is it the time of the month?' uses loads of different tricks to make you break performs dances and skits gets Gojo involved tries to get Megumi involved (no chance) he's so stupid you just have to cave and explain he's an idiot and he'll nod happily

Megumi:

yeahhhhhh you'll be having a silent off for days and weeks you'll both continue to co-exist in silence it's just not smart

Inumaki:

annoying as hell texts you shit like: 'when she copies you' 'ho is u good?' 'can you be original at least?' when that doesn't work he'll break into your social media or gaming accounts right in front of you and threatens to release a post pretending to be you like 'you know, hitler wasn't that bad' or an ugly picture of you then you'll have to cave and he gets so caught up in the victory, he'll accidentally post it yep, he's a dead man walking

#jjk reactions

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juniperdugong · 6 months ago

Text

Photobooth - Wonwoo

WC: 2.8k || Genre: Fluff, Angst (?) || Ooo they crushing on each other

A/N: We'll call this a late bday present for him lol lotsa fluff, is this also angst? Idk. This is the song I had on repeat writing this, Imagine it during the climax

You and Wonwoo had hung around the same people for a while, your friend groups slowly merging before you could comprehend it. So it wasn't exactly a surprise that you'd see him here tonight but you're trying your best not to look in his direction all the same.

You guys haven't talked much... or really at all without someone else in the group being there. It's a given seeing as you're both on the introverted side anyway.

Over time you've grown to welcome seeing his face at a party or in a crowd and you've developed a little bit of a crush, one that you definitely did not mean to create. But really who could blame you?

It was Wonwoo. And the way his messy hair hung so perfectly over his face. How his glasses would fog up on occasion. And god... the way he'd lift his shirt up just a tad to wipe them. You might be insane for the thought but there's no way someone that attractive isn't getting gawked at 24/7, like clockwork.

And that's exactly what you're trying to hide as he sits across the table from you. You're drinking more than you had before he got here and you can feel the heat in your face as the buzz sets in. You've been avoiding his eyes as best you can, but you can't help noticing that he's been looking at you very intently since he sat down.

Wonwoo's been nursing a beer for the past 30 minutes, his face still slightly red from the pregame he and the boys did at the previous bar. Now he's sat in front of you. Purposefully he had pushed Dokeyom out of the way to get this seat but now that he was here he had zero idea of how to approach you. He's been trying to catch your eye the entire time but you haven't looked his way once. He goes to speak but is interrupted.

"Guys! I have a great idea!" Your friend stands up to address the table, the fact that most of you are completely out of it only makes it so that several people are cheering her on the moment she rises. "Let's go to a photo booth shop!"

In minutes someone's already handled the bill; No one cares to ask questions this far into the night. And your posse is perusing the streets looking like a bunch of fucked up college students; Not exactly wrong but not right either.

You're hanging back in the pack like you usually do. The cold air hitting your warm face feels so good that you have to close your eyes to take in the feeling. "Hey." You're startled from your daze as you see Wonwoo pull back and wait for you to catch up to him, "The night air?"

"Yeah, feels nice." The silence grows between you two as you continue walking side by side. Neither of you can tell if the heat you're feeling is from the drinks or from the intense blush you feel coming on but both of you are glad that tonight is breezy, the air serving to calm down some nerves. The last time you were alone was that night.

Not too dissimilar from tonight actually. A bunch of your friends were hanging out at a camping-themed cafe where you could sit around a fireplace. Due to how many of you there were several campfires were taken up.

You and Wonwoo sat a few chairs away from each other, by coincidence you had ended up in this smaller group as a close friend also sat here. It didn't take long for either of you to notice the other. Small glances back and forth and flickering smiles when you caught each other's eye.

Somewhere along the way, almost everyone got up to go and order more food, and as people trickled over to the counter you and Wonwoo were eventually left alone.

The tension was thick with unspoken attraction and you were both waiting for the other to make any moves. Finally, with a lump caught in his throat, Wonwoo got up and sat in the chair next to you. "Y/n, right?" You gave a little nod and chuckled, "Yeah and you're Wonwoo?". "Yep, exactly right."

You guys kept talking and talking the entire night, the conversation never dipping into silence or awkwardness, it felt like you could be here forever and never get bored. It all seemed to come naturally with Wonwoo.

Even once your friends came back the chatting didn't stop. Some of them eye the way you guys had gotten close within a matter of minutes, smirks as they could see the connection forming before their eyes. The way that with each new topic, you guys somehow managed to get physically closer. Scooting your chair to hear him better. Wonwoo leaning in subconsciously as you ramble. Both of you are practically knee to knee by the end of it.

More and more of your group dispersed as it got later in the night but you both were too enthralled in conversation to notice anyone had left until it had gotten dark.

"It was nice talking, y/n." The way the moonlight and campfire gleaned on him made your heart race.

"Yeah, I had a lot of fun Wonwoo." His cheeks hurt from smiling so much and his chest burned whenever anything so much as a smirk was on your lips.

"I'll see you around?" You hoped he was talking sooner rather than later.

"Of course!" He held onto those words like a promise.

It wasn't until you both had gotten into your cars that you realized that you didn't get each other's numbers. Shit!

It's been months since then. You've seen each other at other hangouts but neither of you had the guts to talk to the other again. Something ate at the confidence you had that night and you haven't been able to look him in the eye since. You'd never thought that you'd have a crush this intense at your age but something about Wonwoo made you feel like a highschooler again.

And he's been the same way, although a bit more direct than you. Every time he's seen you since then he'd try to get closer to you, at least be near you to quench his thirsty lovesick heart with your voice... Even if it's not directed towards him. Just staring at you made him flutter, honestly. He's been festering on these feelings for a while, even since before that night if he was being honest, but every time after that his tongue hasn't been able to form coherent sentences around you. It's like a curse.

A curse that it seems some alcohol can quell, at least for a little bit.

"We haven't talked much, have we?" He starts, the shop is just around the corner yet right now he prayed that it was miles away so he could take his time.

"Nah, we haven't. Not since..."

"Not since the campfire?"

"Yeah."

"Hey! You two! Get inside!" A quaint smile forms on your lips as someone yells for you to hurry up. Wonwoo gives a small chuckle but bites his lip to suppress the touch of anger rising now that your conversation has been cut short.

As you get in you can already see that everyone takes charge in claiming different accessories and filing into photo booths in small groups. You didn't really feel up to taking photos, far too heated from Wonwoo's company from before. Looking around, you spot some fun sunglasses shaped like daisies. They were good enough for photos and who knows? Maybe sober you will like the outcome.

After grabbing the sunglasses you dip into an empty booth and begin going through all the different styles. You're slightly hiccuping and now you can definitely feel the alcohol kicking in.

"You mind?" You'd just settled on the only appealing style out of your choices, one obviously meant for couples, one surrounded by red and pink hearts. Of course, Wonwoo had to interrupt. You have half the mind to tell him you do mind jokingly but you're too swayed by him to joke right now, "Not at all."

Now you're sat squished up in the booth with him. The flush on your face could be explained by the drinks but it's more than likely getting redder due to Wonwoo's presence.

"Sorry, all the others were taken and I didn't want to be left out." An excuse, he'd seen you come in here and he was eager to talk to you again. Alcohol really did wonders for confidence.

"It's fine, really." You smiled a bit in his direction and suddenly his heart is thumping like a rabbit's foot. "I don't even like taking photos..."

"Why not?"

"I never like how they come out."

Impossible, you're like the most beautiful person in the world, y/n. He can't even begin to comprehend your way of thinking. You were the most stunning thing in his field of view whenever you were around, how could pictures with you in them ever turn out bad?

"What?" Fuck Did he say that out loud?

"What?"

"Did you just *hiccup* call me beautiful? Wonwoo."

"I don't know." His eyes are wide and suddenly he feels as sober as a dog. He feigns innocence with a confused stare in your direction and thankfully your drunkenness takes him for his word.

"Wonwoo..." A numbness came over you that allowed for words to spill.

"Yeah, y/n?"

"I think I really like you." Great. Now he's sure he's completely sober. He turns to you, the sunglasses hiding your drowsy eyes as you lean against the side of the booth. And he's not even sure if you'll remember saying this. Great!

"You mean that?" Please say yes.

"Mean what?" You're completely out of it and he can see it, as quickly as he resigns to you forgetting what you said you speak again, "That I like you? I do mean that."

His jaw drops and he isn't sure what to do. Does he run away and grab one of the accessories that will cover the intense heat on his face? No, he doesn't want to leave you. Does he tell you he likes you back? No, that's in vain you're already not all here. Well, you are in a photo booth... He presses the START button.

"Will you be mad if I kiss you right now, y/n?"

You look at him with glazed-over doe eyes, letting the sunglasses slip off your face and fall to the floor. You didn't know if this was some sort of sick joke, a hallucination fueled by the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, or worse a drunken mistake on his part. But it was too sudden a question for you to process the options in this state.

3...2...1...Say Cheese!

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked-" He opens the curtain to the photo booth and is ready to get up. This was a bad idea. Nothing you said should mean anything to him but it doesn't keep from the pang of disappointment he feels. Suddenly your hand is gripping his wrist telling him to stay seated, and he does.

3...2...1...Give the Camera a wink!

Both of your hearts are racing. The tension of the moment suffocates you guys but you're too caught up to notice the heaving of your breaths. You grab his face with both your hands, trying your hardest to focus on just him. Your stupor makes it extremely hard but you persist with the small amount of soberness in your body.

It takes far too long for either of you to realize as your lips press together. The shock of plush lips lights you ablaze, it's as if someone held a flame to all the booze coursing through you. You're too far gone to know that you're the one that had leaned into him and not the other way around.

3...2...1...Blast off!

If Wonwoo's eyes could pop out of his skull they would. He's nearly out of the frame of the camera as you push up against him. Your brows furrow as you close your eyes getting more into the kiss and now he's feeling awkward with his eyes wide open. He thinks your focus might just be the cutest thing he's ever seen. God, you are all he wanted, huh? A smile creeps up on his lips before he lifts his glasses and deepens the kiss, placing a hand on the small of your back and using the other to gently wrap around the back of your neck.

3...2...1...Silly Faces!

Maybe it's all the drinks but both of you swear that the other's taste is addictive. Your hands travel from his face and down his neck, pulling him in impossibly closer. You're both hungry for each other, if any of the others saw it'd probably look like borderline cannabilism with how animalistic you were going at it. Mouths trying to trace the memory of each other onto the walls of your cheeks.

It was sensual yet innocent, any trace of lust replaced with an intense passion and love. You can vividly imagine the many kisses that you could share with Wonwoo in your lifetime. Pecks on the cheek, goodbye kisses as you leave the house, intense makeout sessions, all of it. All the little quiet moments of intimacy to the burning giant gestures of love, everything with Wonwoo. It's the only sober thought you think you've had all night.

3...2...1...Big Smile!

You release him from your grip, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. Wonwoo's arms hold you in place but loosen ever so slightly. Foreheads resting on each other you just take a minute to take it in. You let your eyes open and meet his, you feel his glasses fall on between you two.

"Sorry." You say as you back away, allowing his glasses to drop back down fully.

The silence is deafening. Outside you can hear as the rest of the group giggles and chatters on, oblivious to what's just happened. You wipe your mouth as you feel a slickness on your lips, your combined spit coating you both.

You're a lot more aware now. The kiss sobering you enough to maybe be able to remember this in the morning but you weren't confident in that thought.

While you're getting that realization Wonwoo's taken the liberty of doing the finishing steps on the photos. Printing 2 copies for each of you and inserting his own email when it asks him if he wants a video of the photo-taking process. Thankfully you weren't looking when he did that, hopefully, he can show you the video at a better time and you can reminisce on your first kiss.

You startle him as you stand up. A solemn look on your face at the thought of all of this being gone by tomorrow. You really wish you didn't drink tonight. That Wonwoo hadn't sat in front of you. That he hadn't stared at you with those eyes, the ones that made you so nervous that you had to chug drink after drink to just get a modicum of confidence. You wish that what happened in the booth had happened not because you were drunk but because you were ready.

He sees the look and wants to say something... anything if it'll make you feel better. He knows all too well that that look meant that you were regretting things.

You reach out to him, cupping his face in one of your hands and swiping at his cheek with your thumb before he can say anything. Biting your lip you look at him, the feelings are all too overwhelming right now.

"Hey Wonwoo, if you remember this in the morning... remind me of it so we can do it when we're sober sometime, yeah?"

With a slight nod, he leaned into your hand and gave a lingering kiss to your palm before watching you open the curtain and walk away. His eyes stayed glued on you through the window of the shop until the moment your taxi came. A hollow feeling overcoming him as the drunkenness sets in again, although he couldn't quite decipher if this down came from the drinks or from the pure ecstasy you gave and so quickly took away, maybe both.

He walked out of the shop, a group of high-schoolers giggling in merriment as they picked out their accessories and got into their booths. The thought of wherever his friends were was purely background noise at this point.

Getting out and into the cold air he stood with his back against the glass, clutching the photo strips in one hand and his phone in the other, he set an alarm.

"Remind y/n".

A/N: I really really fucking like this one guys, smiling throughout the whole writing process. Also lovelies, for those of you reading Perfection pls know that the upcoming chapter has been delayed till next Saturday! Please reblog and comment your thoughts and as always my asks are open to any and all thoughts!

SVT Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda

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locketsvault · 8 months ago

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「 CUDDLING WITH TOKYO GHOUL MEN 」

pairings: jūzō suzuya x reader ፥ ayato kirishima x reader ፥ renji yomo x reader

tags: gender neutral reader, no agab mentioned, first person, fluff, cuddling/phyiscal affection

warnings: angst in ayatos, mention of parents dying in ayatos, cursing in yomos

request: Heyy, can i please ask for cuddling headcannons with tokyo ghoul guys? (Juuzou, Ayato and Yomo) (request found here.)

a/n: I’m so happy to write for jūzō I love him sm. this request was very fun to do! I do warn later on, but I’m not too familiar with yomo though I did do my best! if you have any comments or ideas about cuddling these silly men, feel free to comment or send something through my inbox. I take anons too!

// jūzō suzuya⌇˚.༄

⮑ You’ve managed to get him to sit still long enough to cuddle? I’m impressed.

⮑ No really, he’s hard to cuddle because of how much energy he has, not to mention the fact he always wants to be out and about. Funnily enough, not to lean into the stereotype but I 100% see him being docile if you give him sweets and snacks lmao. As long as you feed him he will remain in your arms like a good boy.

⮑ That brings me to my next point actually, he’s mostly always a little spoon. On rare occasions he’ll be big spoon, but the problem is that he doesn’t… know how. He doesn’t know how to be big spoon, he doesn’t know how to be the one comforting physically. But he tries!!! And tbh he’s pretty good with it, even if he can be slightly awkward at first. He learns, especially if you willingly help him.

⮑ I think because of his personality and upbringing, most people assume he doesn’t understand affection. While I can agree, to a certain extent, he isn’t clueless, and it doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand all forms of affection. He does, and he learns well. Even if his ways of showing affection are not traditional lol.

⮑ He does not mind pda, he doesn’t get why people are uncomfortable. He loves you, and if he wants cuddles from you while working or going around the city, then he should get what he wants no? Plus, it’s not like he’s worried about his reputation.

⮑ A solid 8/10 in the cuddle department. if he sits still long enough and is willing, his cuddles are warmth. they’re home.

// ayato kirishima⌇˚.༄

⮑ He must really trust you if he’s cuddling with you willingly.

⮑ Hear me out okay. I know he’s not only the whole “bad boy” persona we all see. But it is a big part of him and how he thinks. Affection is weakness, and showing weakness is asking for death. Especially in the earlier days. The idea of being vulnerable even in the safety of his own home freaks him out.

⮑ I think for the longest time he wouldn’t entertain the idea. That is until he’s had a rough day, and suddenly he finds himself burying his face in your torso, holding you between his legs. You can’t move, you’re not allowed to. Not that you’d want to; because finally subjecting himself to affection has caused him to break down. Yep, your first time cuddling involves a very vulnerable and probably crying boy in your arms. He’s back to the age of his parents still being alive in that moment.

⮑ But! Once he’s finally given himself the taste of affection, especially from you, he can’t let it go. It’s still only in private though, he can’t bring himself to feel comfortable cuddling you in front of others. Honestly it’s probably not until after :re that he feels comfortable with pda.

⮑ His cuddles are rigid at first, he can’t get himself to relax. But over time he softens up. He loves cuddling you face to face, he loves admiring you. You may even find his eyes soft and adoring. His body runs extra hot so he’s perfect to sleep with in the winter. Oh, couch cuddles that consist of you being a personal weighted blanket are also always welcome.

⮑ I’ll give him a 6.5, he’s still figuring himself out but somehow his cuddles are still nice.

// renji yomo⌇˚.༄

⮑ Honestly he looks like someone who gives wonderful hugs.

⮑ Now you’ll have to forgive me, I don’t really know too much on yomo, though I did try to read up a little to refresh my mind.

⮑ If we’re talking about early days yomo, when he was a little shit (sorry yomo), I don’t really see him as a cuddly person. He’s too hot headed and violent, especially after losing his sister. But if we’re talking about Anteiku and beyond yomo, I could see him appreciating cuddles very much.

⮑ And I mean it too. I think physical affection is one of his main forms of affection right next to act of service. So he’s always down to cuddle you if you ask. You’ll usually have to initiate it though, unless you’re at home. He’ll open his arms for you and pull you close.

⮑ I can vividly picture this man allowing you to lay on his chest and probably fall asleep while reading a book peacefully. And he’s willing to stay that way for hours. It’s probably very soothing to him. Especially if the room is quiet and he can hear your heartbeat.

⮑ When it comes to pda, I don’t really think he’d do it. And if he did he never initiated it. he’s a man of few words, and is reserved. His actions can speak for himself yes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to. He doesn’t care if anyone comments on it though, and is probably both amused and annoyed at the gawking of someone curled into his side at the coffee shop lol.

⮑ 9/10 as well, as long as it isn’t early yomo, you’ve got yourself a wonderful protective cuddler.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

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libingan · 1 month ago

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—gym buddies.

i saw this insta reel of two ppl playfully flirting w each other at the gym lol this fic is HEAVILY inspired by that

i saw it and was like “holy shit that’s literally gaz” so i opened my google docs and wrote this shit down

the gym was quiet that morning, save for the low thrum of pop music and the occasional clang of weights being racked. you were just finishing up a set, wiping sweat from your brow when a familiar voice broke through the air.

“alright, serious question,” kyle said, sauntering over with that trademark grin of his, hoodie pulled low but not enough to hide the mischievous glint in his eyes.

you gave him a skeptical look, already bracing for the ridiculousness about to leave his mouth. “what is it now?”

he leaned casually against the equipment, crossing his arms. “what’s the sluttiest thing a man can wear in the gym?”

you didn’t even have to think about it. “easy. grey sweatpants.” you gestured toward his own, letting your finger linger pointedly. his jaw dropped, hand going to his chest like you’d just mortally wounded him.

“no way,” he said, looking down at his pants like they’d betrayed him. “grey sweatpants? you’re telling me i walked in here looking like someone’s gym boyfriend?”

you shrugged, your smirk only widening. “yep. and it gets worse. those black compression shirts? the really tight ones? they’re just as bad.”

his expression froze, eyes widening in fake horror. “oh, no. oh, shit.” with a dramatic flourish, he grabbed the hem of his hoodie and whipped it off, revealing—of course—a black compression shirt that clung to him like a second skin. “you’re saying i’ve been out here slutting it up all this time?”

you doubled over laughing, clutching at your stomach. “kyle, you’re basically naked. someone should report you.”

“damn,” he muttered, tossing his hoodie onto the bench. “guess i better own it, then.”

you shook your head, still grinning. “well, guess i have to join in.” you peeled off your own shirt, revealing your gym bra underneath. his reaction was immediate—his hands flew to his face, and he staggered back a step like you’d just struck him.

“oh, my god,” he muttered through his fingers, peeking at you like he couldn’t help himself. “this is too much. i need backup. my eyes can’t handle this. they’re fighting for their lives right now.”

you rolled your eyes, heading toward the pull-up bar. “shut up and spot me, you idiot.”

he followed, still grinning. “not my fault you’re out here distracting the hell out of me.”

you jumped up and grabbed the bar, pulling yourself up with a grunt. he stood close, hands hovering just in case. “i swear i’m being professional,” he said, the grin in his voice impossible to miss. “but you’re making it really, really hard.”

“oh, yeah?” you managed to get out between reps.

“yeah,” he said, stepping back to get a better angle. “like, why are they right there? i’m trying to be a gentleman, but you’re not making it easy.”

“kyle,” you panted, dropping down and shaking out your arms. “you’re the worst spotter in history.”

“wrong. i’m the best,” he countered immediately, offering you a bottle of grip chalk. “i’m just efficient. spotting and complimenting all at once. a real multitasker.”

you snatched the bottle from him, rubbing it onto your palms. “if i out-rep you, you’re buying me coffee.”

he raised an eyebrow, smirking. “fine. but if i win, you’re buying me lunch. and dessert.”

“deal.” you jumped back onto the bar, managing a few more pull-ups before your grip gave out again. dropping back down, you shot him a triumphant look. “beat that, hotshot.”

he shrugged, crossing his arms. “how about we settle it with some cardio instead?”

you narrowed your eyes. “what kind of cardio?”

he stepped closer, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch. “the kind that’s better done at my place.”

…

the two of you were side by side on treadmills in his apartment gym, sneakers pounding against the belts as you shot him an unimpressed look.

“this,” you said, panting slightly, “is not the kind of cardio i had in mind, kyle.”

he burst out laughing, speeding up his treadmill just to mess with you. “what? running builds endurance. gotta be ready for… extracurricular activities.”

you groaned, shaking your head but unable to stop yourself from smiling. “keep talking, and you’ll have to prove it.”

“oh, i will,” he shot back, that cheeky grin firmly in place. “but first, let’s see who lasts longer on these treadmills. loser buys dinner.”

you huffed, already planning to outlast him. or maybe let him win. after all, he did promise dessert.

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x you

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trustmypoison · 2 months ago

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Enhypen and their 'oh' moment

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘so happy you’re willing to write for other groups 💞 my request is enhypen members falling in love / realizing they’re falling in love’

Jungwon Like most group leaders, he carries a lot on his shoulders. He probably feels that he can’t share that responsibility with anyone else from time to time. Still, he finds himself opening up about his stresses one night and he lets you comfort him. He likes to be strong for everyone else and wants to appear unaffected, but he feels safe appearing affected in front of you because you’re so gentle about it. It’s when he’s got his head in your lap after he unloads all his worries that he has his little ‘oh’ moment.

Heesung He might come off as reserved and even a little bit cold at first (someone please prove me wrong though!!). You might even think he doesn’t like you very much because he’s perhaps not as outwardly expressive as others. But trust that he has a soft spot for you. He might not let some of the younger members get away with something, but you can right in front of him and he’ll never say a word. If one of the younger members throws a fit about this preferential treatment, he’ll blink a few times and think, ‘huh. That’s weird.’ Largely unaffected by this revelation though.

Jay I think he’d be one of those that knows pretty early on that he’s falling. Within the first few times he meets you, he recognizes what’s happening in slow motion, so there’s no big ‘oh’ moment. Just a series of little confirmations along the way that his assumption was correct. You do the slightest, most monotonous thing and he thinks. ‘Yep, I think I’m in love.’ It’s not this big, scary feeling like some of the other members might experience, but rather a comforting feeling to fall.

Jake Now he might be shocked. Say you aren’t even dating but you share some mutual friends. He sees you playing with Layla in the other room and one of his group members calls him out for his staring, and maybe even calls him ‘lovesick’. Totally flabbergasted because what do you mean?? It’s not like that?? His group members’ faces tell him everything he needs to know - which is that he’s a blind idiot (affectionate).

Sunghoon Ok, he realizes because he’s jealous. Regardless of whether you are dating or not, he’ll see someone get way too close to you, or hear someone talk about how they’re going to ask you out, and he’s panicking!! Cannot determine right away why he’s panicking because he’d like to think he’s not a very possessive person. But here we are. The ‘oh’ moment is when he realizes he perked up as soon as your attention was back on him. Might just confess in a roundabout way right then, like, “don’t pay attention to anyone else, okay? Only me!” A big baby.

Sunoo lol he says he hates annoying things. Then lets you annoy him continuously. Doesn’t say a word when you poke his cheek or boop his nose. Doesn’t complain when you keep him up with your yapping in the middle of the night. Doesn’t think the first thing of bailing on any other plans because you’re bored. This will be a super slow realization, but when it finally does hit him, it’s because HE said he missed you and you laugh and say, “but we’re constantly together!” ‘Oh’ indeed.

Niki To no one’s surprise, Niki has maknae privileges and totally milks it for all it’s worth. He’s totally fine with being babied by his members. He’s used to being protected, but feels rather protective of you. Might even speak up to his hyungs if they mess with you too much, to which they’ll tease him about. Thing is, he might start swinging on them if they don’t stop!! The thought that it’s anymore than friends doesn’t compute for him until it’s spelled out for him by one of his group members, probably in a sarcastic way - like, “Fine, fine, we’ll stop messing with your girl.” Never occurred to him that you could be his until that moment.

#enhypen #enha #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen reactions #enha reactions #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #jungwon #heesung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #niki

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shutupineedtothink · 3 months ago

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More ep 7 thoughts, now that I’ve watched it twice and processed 🫠

Bookending the episode with Lilia’s fall but first it’s down and then it’s up - sick, twisted, beautiful, devastating, I’m crying

The soundtrack really goes hard in this ep

The wildest part about the “ex best friend” line is all of those things are equally insane - ex, ex best friend, or best friend. Like ma’am what hex were you living in

Babysitter is likely a reference to the comics, but interesting also in terms of WV because we saw Agatha babysit the twins only once I think. Does this mean she actually spent more time with them than we know?

Wow once again Kathryn Hahn is doing so much work in this first scene with Billy, she’s going from snarky to wary to calculating to hurt to i don’t even know. She’s doing a masterclass in face acting.

When they start to climb toward the castle, Agatha has her hands clasped behind her back and initially I was just like ma’am, why are you like this, but then I realized oh. Her hands are tied right now.

Waning moon for the Crone trial babyyyyyy called it

Fun and fast transition to get us into the trial, since we know the deal by now

She’s based on me you know — sooooo, tragic, misunderstood, secretly suffering her whole life, constantly judged by others, uh huh uh huh

Prove it - he really doesn’t believe a word she says! And she looks so hurt by it!

The way Agatha sits in the chair omg girl please chill

This is such like an Indiana Jones trap I love it

God I love Lilia’s visions, changing the perspective to hers, the blurring around the edges - sometimes you don’t need to do much, but it’s hella effective

Actually a lot of good camera tricks in this ep I’m not going to point them all out

It’s about limiting beliefs baybeee - once again the writers showing they know their psych

I’m sorry that tea leaves to the underground transition??? Spectacular

“Well tell me what more I should see when I look at you. No, I mean it” - hey nonviolent communication, how’s it going 🤌

God can you imagine how scary it would be to have these visions as a CHILD

Did you not see imminent impalement in your future?? Lol why did this get me

I get the fake nose on Agatha but idk maybe I could’ve done without it

Teenager his full name LOLOL underrated joke

Dory OMGGGGG

Jen being the ultimate Lilia champion this ep and I love it. Also seems to contradict her behavior even more in Agatha’s trial, but she’s still more snappy with Agatha here too

What are you wearing, I don’t wanna talk about it - bruh every line. EVERY LINE.

Did I mention the transitions are killer

Your task is not to control but to see. - I, I can’t keep writing down every line but

I love that as soon as Jen knows what’s going on, she’s totally on board, just asking Lilia for intel, like yep this is normal now

Ahhh the spell book. Interesting that Lilia finds it.

Ohp - I wish Lilia was here. Ask and you shall receive - see the Billy’s Road theory

She calls him baby again 😭

Is snappy dialogue one of my biggest joys on this earth? I think it is

Proper tarot takes time and care. And leads to large gaping wounds - …. You mean like internal wounds? Like trauma? Like you have to bring up the trauma to heal it? Uh huh uh huh cool cool cool cool you said it Agatha not me.

The Magician, the ability to turn all of your goals into reality - Agatha immediately side eyes him. Bruh.

I’m a forgotten woman. Then remember yourself. 🤌🤌🤌

I was falling. I will fall. - CAMERA. MOVEMENT.

What will you do with your remaining time 🤝 all we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us. Iykyk.

The subway baybeee get that House of R theory

God this tarot spread scene is so epic.

Ok Jen being the path ahead… I gotta come back to that

Agatha is the obstacle yep that makes sense (but the obstacle is the way)

Windfall - Billy, miraculous transformation uh yep ok

Destination - Death. Such a good reveal, even if I already knew it. Once again the power of good writing. In the end all roads lead to me. UGH WTF

NOT THE GREEN VINES SPELLING A BIG OL “R” WHEN THE DOORS OPEN

The original green witch…. Ok so she is in the coven… but also Billy’s in the coven? It’s a shared black heart? Or it means you can go one direction or the other… hm.

Ughghghghhh her just giving them each what they need before she sends them onward. She’s the GOAT.

Did I mention the music????

This whole scene is so EPIC. The tower upright fuck it up queen

Oh my God Lilia took her power back 😭

We didn’t see a body unlike Alice I’m holding onto that “see you at the end” lyric with all my might at this point

Time in a bottle was sick and twisted and beautiful I love it

I just… can’t believe this is something I got to witness. Like it’s so good I’m mad about it.

A few other quick thoughts:

Jen being the path ahead… if she was birth in the first trial (see my maiden mother crone trial theory), then maybe she’s also REbirth? It’s a circle sewn with fate… we’re going back to the beginning but emerging from the Road this time. Eh??

Patti…. PATTI!! Where’s her Emmy? Where’s the show’s Emmy???

Not only was this a better time travel plot than the rest of Marvel as I said in another post but it’s also better than time travel in Doctor Who for the last 10 years and that pisses me off low key.

Not to jump ahead but buckle up kids cuz if we’re following the loose structure of WandaVision then ep 8 is our flashback/reliving the trauma episode for Agatha and as much as I was destroyed by this ep I am so not ready for all of that.

Anyway. What a masterpiece. I’m DONE.

#agatha all along #agatha all along spoilers #deaths hand in mine #agatha harkness #lilia calderu

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irisintheafterglow · 8 months ago

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Hey there!

Saw your requests were open (if it isnt,just ignore this)

But i just love your satoru x reader and co parenting megumi????and i would KILL to see like, something bad happening to reader (like a mission going wrong,she passing out or getting sick or all) and boys just panicking cause satoru loves reader,and megumi sees her as his mother???

Sorry,im a sucker for hurt/comfort trope

Lots of love!!! you're amazing!

aww this is so cute, thank you for the request anon <3 wrote it as sick fic instead of injury since i,,,, have written like 3 things with that trope recently so let's do a fluffy sick fic instead lol. hope you like it :))

cw/tags: established relationship (pet names babe, baby, sweetheart), gn!reader, some explicit language, mention of eating

"the kid thinks you're gonna die," your boyfriend says as he enters your room, setting a grocery bag on your desk and digging around for the bottle of orange juice. "you're starting to worry me too, honestly."

"i'm not gonna die, babe; i think it's just the flu," you groan, propping yourself on an elbow and attempting to sit up. you're unsuccessful, the throbbing in your head and the chills in your arms too overwhelming. you fall back against the pillow with a less-than-ceremonial thump. satoru crouches in front of you, eyebrows drawn and forehead wrinkled in concern. he pulls down his blindfold and you're met with the bright blue eyes you loved so much.

"yep. looks like you're dying soon," he declares with a curt nod and you scoff, a chuckle turning into an aggressive fit of coughing. satoru is lightning-quick, grabbing a new bottle of water and snapping off the cap before holding it up to your lips. "here, drink." you push his hands away, wordlessly insisting that you can drink on your own while still hacking relentlessly. "nuh-uh, just let me help you." with a frown, you let him tilt the bottle toward you and take a few careful sips. "you are frustratingly stubborn," he sighs.

"i have to be if i need to deal with you all the time," you joke hoarsely, sips of water becoming gulps.

"yeah, but you love me for it," he finishes and you agree with a shrug. "easy, there," he warns as you keep downing the water. "don't want you choking again."

"i'm fine, satoru."

"you've been working yourself too much, you know."

"hypocrite," you counter and he frowns, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. you were right, even though he didn't want to admit it. satoru was always the first one to say that someone was working too hard, just to take the burden for himself. it was a red flag, you said a few weeks ago over convenience store sushi; you also noted his 'concerningly inflated ego, lack of spatial awareness, and general disinterest in things that could be momentarily unpleasant.' you'd finished it, though, with a long-winded comment about how his red flags, in all their scarlet glory, made satoru himself. maybe it was just his melodrama, but he'd cut off his hand if it meant you were able to joke like that again.

"i'm serious. i think your body's shutting down because-"

"because i've been away too long, i know. i don't need a lecture right now, satoru." you swallow the last of the water and settle back onto your pillow, grumbling when you feel the side of your bed sink with your boyfriend's weight. "baby, you're gonna get sick, too."

"that means i get to take a day or two off," he points out, fitting his face into the divot between your shoulder and neck. despite your complaints, he throws off the comforter and replaces the blankets with his arms. "don't grrrr me, babe. you need to burn off your fever and i run warmer than any of these sheets."

"aren't i sweaty and stinky and yucky? how can you be touching me when i'm all gross?"

"you mean, how can i love on you right now when you're just being a human?"

"mhmm. you don't find it gross?"

"of course not, sweetheart," he reassures you with a kiss to your shoulder. "i'd be a real dickhead if i only loved you when you were feeling 100%."

"yeah, you're only half a dickhead for other reasons," you murmur into the pillowcase and he laughs, the sound reverberating against your back. before your eyes settle shut, you catch the door of your room opening and vaguely make out a messy head of black hair peeking around the corner. "megs?"

"oi, adults only," the other occupant of the bed threatens, pulling you closer and attempting to flip you to your other side to face him. you unbuckle satoru from around you, though, and manage to sit up. megumi pads carefully into the room, like you'd crumble into sand if his steps were too loud. "come in, i guess," your boyfriend says dramatically with a wave of his hand.

"satoru, i swear-"

"sorry, baby. shutting up." satoru flops back onto your bed and you reach out to megumi, who stares at your hand for a moment before rushing into your arms. "hey, megs. since you're here, you mind grabbing me a soda from the breakroom?"

"i thought you were shutting up, satoru," you remind him, voice poisonously sweet. he echoes your reminder in a mockingly high-pitched voice. "i'm gonna kick you out of my room if you don't stop, mister."

"you wouldn't dare," he gasps.

"oh, i would."

"yeah," he concedes. "you definitely would, but i love you for it." with satoru temporarily placated, you return your attention to the small child in your arms.

"you doing okay, megs?" he nods, eyes shut against your chest and holding you tight. "i'm not gonna die, buddy. i promise." you rub your hand up and down his back, combing your fingers through his hair when you're abruptly swung backward onto the bed. "jeez, satoru, what are you-"

"get the kid, it's nap time," he mumbles with finality, resecuring his body around yours and motioning for megumi to climb in. he does, and you drift off sandwiched between your boys, feeling a little lighter for the first time in days.

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#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fluff #ask iris!

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sweetloleepop · 5 months ago

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Synopsis: Today is your birthday. And although you have already planned to spend it just cuddling and watching movies with your boyfriend, everything changed after your friends decided to throw you this not-so-big party, which your boyfriend didn’t appreciate much.

Pairing/s: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader

Tags: smut, car seggs, swearing, slight degradation, spanking, unprotected smut

a/n: This is my first time writing for Bakugo and I did so as a gift for my lovely friend. I hope I didn’t change him much lol. Happiest birthday to youuu!!! @justpassingbybiatch

PS: All characters are of legal age in this fic

Wordcount: 1.8k

Everyone cheered as you blow the candle. They all greeted you a happy birthday and handed you their gifts. The event that your best friends, Izuku and Momo, arranged, made you feel very happy. But do you know what else it made you? Busy. From the moment that you and Katsuki have stepped a foot on this very place, he hasn’t been able to talk to you. Let alone get near you. There’s just so many people here; too many people for you to give him an ounce of your attention and its making Katsuki dissatisfied. He didn’t want to make a fuss about it though. After all, this is your day, it’s not about him, and he wants you to enjoy your day to the fullest. But still, he can’t shrug the feeling of dissatisfaction off of him.

Feeling a bit grumpy, Katsuki decided to sit on one of the many tables in the venue, alone. He stayed there for a while, watching you talk happily with your friends. ‘Tsk. That would’ve been me if they didn’t ruin our plans.’ He thought to himself.

Meanwhile, standing near the buffet, you idly listen to Izuku talk about new quirks that he found other heroes can do. He’s always been very excited about sharing new things that he discovers with you, and this conversation is no different. Don’t get me wrong, you love listening and conversing with your friends, but you haven’t seen Katsuki in a while and it’s making you worried.

After some time of subtly taking your eyes away from Izuku in an attempt to search for Katsuki, you finally saw him stood up from one of the tables. You watched as he made his way to the exit and left. ‘Oh no…’

You failed to notice that Izuku is still speaking right in front of you until he calls your name. “Are you okay?” Izuku asked as he looked back, trying to distinguish what you were looking at. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine, I just- would you excuse me for a minute?” You replied as you excused yourself and followed Katsuki to the exit.

It was chilly outside. The fact that you are wearing a sleeveless dress didn’t help. You hugged yourself while you walked through the parking lot. Katsuki is nowhere to be found. ‘Where is he?’

“Looking for me?” Upon hearing the voice, you turned your head so fast that you gave yourself a whiplash. “Ouch,” you uttered as you held your neck.

“God, will you be more careful?” Katsuki said as he made his way to you. He held your neck and looked at it with a very worried expression. “Still hurts?” He asked.

You looked at his face. ‘God, he’s so handsome.’

He called your name. “Stop staring at me and tell me, does it still hurt?”

“Uh… yeah. It still hurts, ‘Tsuki. I think only a kiss would help make the pain go away.” You cutely said to him while pouting.

He tsked at you and pecked your neck. “Fine now?”

“Yep, better.” You replied.

A strong gust of wind blew through the wide space of the parking lot, making you shiver. Katsuki didn’t fail to notice that and he immediately took off his suit and draped it on your shoulder. “It’s cold in here. You wanna go back inside?” You asked as you closed the suit around you. “Not really. But I do know a warm place.”

“Where?”

The backseat of his car sure is warm. Especially now that you’re sitting on Katsuki’s lap while he peppered your neck with kisses. His mouth was hot as he assaulted your neck with open-mouthed kisses.

You grabbed his hair and kissed his lips. Oh, his lips, soft as ever, yet very rough when he kisses you back. You felt Katsuki’s hand roam about your torso. He grabbed and squeezed your left breast while his other hand slowly opened the zipper of your dress.

After fully opening your zipper, Katsuki helped you take the garment off. He commanded you to lay down on the seat and you quickly obliged. You watched as he unbuttoned his dress shirt and threw them somewhere in the passenger seat.

Katsuki, then, kissed you again. More demanding this time. You felt as one of his hands unclasped your bra and roughly played with your breasts. Katsuki pinched one of your nipple, causing you to release a surprised gasp.

“You like that?” Katsuki asked, his voice raspy.

“Y-yes,”

Katsuki’s kisses went down to your neck, leaving bruises on their wake. His kisses, then, went down lower, to your chests. Katsuki won’t admit it but this, your chest is his most favorite part of you. He told you once that it was your heart but on his defense, your heart is inside your chest, and he loved them both.

He sucked on your chest like a starved child. His mouth was vigorous as it nipped, licked, and sucked on your them. Not that you’re complaining, you love what he’s doing. In fact, you enjoy it so much, your eyes are rolling and your hands are gripping his spiky strands of sandy blond hair.

As one of his hands are fondling your chest in tandem with his mouth, you felt the other one snake its way to your thighs. It was almost overwhelming, except you’re too greedy to care. His hand massaged your thighs, teasing its way to your clothed cunt.

You breathed heavily in anticipation to his touch. But every time his fingers brushes against your panties, he retreats them and caresses your thighs again. “Katsuki, please,” you pleaded.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“Why should I?” He asked, his voice an octave lower.

You felt your face get warmer as you muttered, “So I can cum.”

“What was that?” ‘Oh, this man.’

“Please touch me, Katsuki. I want to cum so bad!” You said, your voice a little too desperate.

“You should’ve said that earlier.” Katsuki replied before you felt his hand push your underwear to the side.

His slender fingers teased you entrance, making you whimper. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” After coating one of his fingers with your wetness, he slowly pushed it in. “Oh, fuck, Katsuki.”

He kissed your lips once again as he prodded his finger in and out of you. You moaned against his lips, which he replied with a groan. You felt him insert another finger as his thumb made its way to your clit. They all worked together, picking a fast pace. Katsuki made sure to swallow all of your moans and whimpers through the kiss. He wanted to make you scream so bad but this is just not the right place to do that.

His fingers went faster and you felt that familiar coil in your stomach. “Katsuki- fuck- I’m cumming.”

“Cum on my fingers, baby.” And that was more than enough for you to do so. You released a loud moan as your body trembled upon your climax. Katsuki guided you through your orgasm, slowly massaging your clit as you go down from your high.

He watched as you catch your breath. Your eyes, heavily lidded and your forehead, a little sweaty. But the night is young and you’re yet to finish this round.

Katsuki kissed you softly as you recover. And soon as you have, he asked you to turn around. “Ass up,” he commanded and you obliged. You felt his hand made contact with your your ass, making you yelp. It hurt, but it hurt so good. “You like when I do that, don’t you? You dirty bitch.” And another smack on your ass, which made you moan.

You heard the familiar clanking of his belt. It never failed to send waves and waves of anticipation to you, especially down to your already wet cunt. You subconsciously moved your ass up higher, making Katsuki swear. “Fuck, you’re really dirty.”

He pulled his pants down and stroked himself a few times. “Do you know how long I waited for you to finish that damn long conversation with Deku? I thought you’ll talk the whole night. Tsk.”

“I’m sorry.” You mindlessly said.

“Oh don’t worry. We’ll see just how sorry you are.”

And with that, you felt Katsuki’s cock make its way to the deepest parts of you in one go. “Fuck!” You moaned loudly. “Hey now, you don’t want everyone to hear how much you love my cock, now, would you?” He asked as he rammed his cock into you.

After receiving no replied, he once again spanked your ass, “Answer me when I talk to you.”

“N-no. No, I don’t want them t-to hear- how much I love your cock-” you finally replied, your words being slurred with your moans.

Katsuki kept on fucking you hard. You kind of wondered if the sound of his balls hitting your ass is heard from the outside but you’re too drowned in pleasure to fully contemplate about it. His thrusts were hard, deep, and fast. You could’ve sworn that the car is visibly shaking from the outside.

You felt one of Katsuki’s hand snake its way in between your legs. Katsuki’s finger draw tight circles on your clit, making you bury your face further into the seat. You tried to muffle your moans but your attempts were proven futile as you released yet another loud and long moan. Katsuki’s fingers were fast as they guide you through your second, and so far, hardest orgasm of the night.

“Oh, fuck, you’re clenching my cock tighter.” Katsuki groaned as he fucks harder into you, trying to reach his own high. You felt his thrusts get sloppier by the second.

“Fuck, I’m fucking cumming.”

“Cum inside me, Katsuki, please.” You pleaded as you get overstimulated with his gestures.

A string of swears left Katsuki’s lips as he ride you into his own release. You felt the warm shot of liquid paint your walls as he did so.

The two of you stayed still on his car for a while, catching your breaths and cleaning yourselves up with wet wipes. It’s a good thing that you left a pack of them on his car, thinking that it might come in handy some time. And it did!

You inhaled the fresh air as soon as you got out. Both you and Katsuki, then, made your way inside the venue of your party. You heard Izuku’s worried voice call you, “Where have you been? Momo and I have been looking for you!”

“Oh, I- I just went out to get some fresh air.” You replied.

“It’s very cold outside though. And why are you and Kacchan kinda… sweaty?” Izuku asked, not sure if he’s actually seeing sweat on you and Katsuki given that it is very cold outside.

“We just warmed ourselves up.” Katsuki replied as he snaked his arm around your hip.

‘This is going to be a looong night’

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urhoneycombwitch · 1 year ago

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shrine of your lights

Eddie Munson x fwb!Reader edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

cw: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

wc: 4.8k

___

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him.

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look.

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #weed mention #tw weed

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