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zvdvdlvr · 4 months

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— Morning Smoke

💜 — Synopsis. You knew you had a thing for the one person who had a clear distaste towards you. But maybe having a wet dream about him- while sleeping in the same room as him- was probably a good thing.

💜 — Warnings. Rushed writing. Unedited. Dry humping. Clothed grinding. Reader and Spencer smoke cigarettes.

One year, eleven months, and six days. Thats how long you’d been working for the BAU catching serial killers, bombers, and rapists by observing every detail if their crime. You’re a valuable asset to the team, your brain working on the same page as the rest of the team with just a different design.

During your time at the BAU, you recieved many titles. Caffeine fiend(Aaron), best friend(Penny), mama (Derek), and idiot- affectionately- (Emily). The only person that hadn’t called you anything other than your first or last name, or agent was Spencer Reid.

There was a barrier between the two of you- unspoken, of course, but there was just some kind of wall seperating you from him. You didn’t blame Spencer for keeping you at at arm’s length: you were just some new agent who would eventually transfer. Admittedly, it hurt when Spencer politely uninvited himself from the activities you went along with. And it felt like a gut punch when Spencer chose the farthest seat from you on the jet and chose to move away from you while giving profiles to the police. But you figured he had his reasons.

“Y/n,” Emily murmured, nudging your arm. You looked up, bleary eyes focussing on the dark haired woman in front of you. You blinked.

“What’s- hey!” You cried out indignantly as Emily snatched the cold cup if coffee you had started to reach for. “Emily.”

“It’s time to go back to the hotel. Hotch’s orders,” the dark haired woman said, nodding to the team behind you.

You nodded. “Okay.” You stood up and hastily tucked papers into the manilla folder you were working on. “I’m ready.”

“Put those files down, y/n,” Hotch commanded, raising a tired eyebrow in your direction. “If I’m tired, you have to be a dead woman walking.”

You put the file down and pulled your coat on without protest. You’d only actually seen Hotch exhausted a handful of times. And Hotch was right: you did feel like you were about to fall over. Maybe having an iron deficiency and drinking coffee off an empty stomach wasn’t a very pleasant experience…

The ride to the hotel was over in a blink of an eye- a really ling blink apparently. You hadn’t even known you had reached the hotel until the inevitable and only boy genius Spencer Reid shook your shoulder gently to wake you up. Truly, you thought you were dreaming when you opened your eyes and Spencer’s face surrounded by a mat of curly hair greated you. His furrowd eyebrows relaxed when you looked around.

“Let’s go, l/n. You’re rooming with me,” Spencer told you after locking the car.

If you were in the right state of mind, you probably would have bent over giggling from the way Spencer put his arm around you as he led you into the building. But you weren’t so you just rested your head in the juncture if his shoulder and neck. He smelled good for someone who’d been awake for God knows how long. If you concentrated you thought you could feel the heat of his palm around you, moving in teeny tiny circles.

By the time you reached the bedroom you were practically unconscious in Spencer’s arms, yours and his go-bag around Spencer’s other arm. Spencer gently set you down on the bed closest to the door and put your go-bag in the bed beside you. “You should probably get changed, but I know how tired you are. I’ll shower tonight so you can shower tomorrow,” he explained, brushing a baby hair out of your line of sight. “Goodnight.”

“G’night, Spence,” you mumbled, eyes caught in the way Spencer’s lips moved and twitched. He was an expressive man when he was tired, and you caught the rare smile that graced his lips.

You hoped you would remember the blush on his cheekbones that matched the color of his lips when you woke up the next morning.

Birds chirped. The bright sun shone through the blinds of your home, patterning your room with strips of orangey-yellow. You turned over and saw him.

“Hey, you,” Spencer greeted. His hand came to rest gently on your cheek and pull you up to his pink lips. Your leg fluidly moved to straddle Spencer’s right leg.

Breathlessly you muttered a “good morning” before your hand tangled in Spencer’s curly hair, tugging his head down to meet your desperate kisses.

Spencer moved his thigh up to rub harshly on your core. You gasped sharply and ground down to meet Spencer’s thigh. “Oh fuck,” you whispered, watching Spencer’s back arch as you palmed the massive tent in his pants.

A strangled cry left your lips when Spencer’s massive hands fell onto your hips and controlled your movements. “That’s my girl,” Spencer growled, your hands feeling up Spencer’s chest and tracing the curves and lines of his neck. As your orgasm approached, your hands grasped Spencer’s face and harshly pulled him into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

“Y/n,” Spencer murmured, voice low.

“Fuck,” you cursed. “Jus’ like that,” you slurred.

“Y/n,” Spencer repeated, one hand sliding up to your shoulder.

Your jaw clenched and your hips jerked violently.

“Y/n.”

You shot up in bed, sweat soaking your forhead and hair. You looked around wildly, chest heaving.

In front of you sat Spencer Walter Reid, eyes beady with sleep. “Are you okay? You sounded like you were having a nightmare-?”

“Fuck, fuck,” you whispered, running a hand through your hair. “I’m- yeah I’m alright. I just-“ you exhaled. “Go back to bed, Reid, I’m alright.”

“A-Are you sure?”

You wanted to groan. The ruins of a spoiled orgasm simmered away in your blood. “Yes. I just- Yeah it was a nightmare. I’m gonna- go get ready.”

“L/n, it is 4 o’clock in the morning.”

You thanked the dark lighting for concealing the dark patch of your pants due to your arousal. “It’s- Please go back to bed.”

“Talk to me,” Spencer pleaded, grabbing your hand.

“It’s nothing, Reid. There’s nothing to talk about. Go to bed.”

“It’s a proven fact that people who discuss their nightmares with someone increase their happiness and healing process by more than 50%,” Spencer rushed.

“Reid it’s embarrassing. I can’t-“ you shook your head. “I’ll- please, Reid.”

The moonlight glinted in his eyes as he searched you for answers he knew you wouldn’t give him. “Are you- y/n. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Your jaw tightened and you looked away. Your thighs burned- you must have been humping the blanket between your thighs. “Reid, you don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

You threw your hands up. “I know you don’t like me, Reid. It’s kind of obvious, so I’m just saying that you don’t need to have a therapy session because we’re rooming together.”

Spencer genuinely looked offended. “I don’t hate you,” he murmured. “I never have.”

You scoffed and stood up, dream completely forgotten. “Could have fooled me, Reid. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You left Spencer on your bed, bringing your go-bag to the tiny bathroom.

— 💜

After scrubbing you skin raw you finally exited the shower and pulled your hair into a braided updo before pulling on some clean clothes.

The sky was still dark when you exited the hotel, cigarette box in hand.

You sat in the ground, smart enough to know not to willingly wander too far outside of the vicinity of the rest of the team while at an unfamiliar location. “Goddamnit,” you murmured, lighting up a cigarette and watching the sun start to stain the concrete.

Visions of dead bodies filled your mind. Empty coffee cups getting tossed into a trash can, bloodstained hands as you ushered a victim away from the unsub, the ringing in your ears after an SUV blew up near you. When you joined the BAU you hadn’t known that every day you looked into the eyes of those possessed by evil, you would lose a part of your soul trying to save each and every person you saw.

But the team had it’s pros. A group of people you mostly called family, good pay, paid sick leave, mostly free flights, a badass title, and introduction to some very fine specimens (read: Spencer Walter Reid).

Speaking of Spencer, you were thinking of the conversation you both had. ‘I don’t hate you. I never have’. You snorted and lit another cigarette, holding the smoke in your lungs until familiar white spots danced in your vision.

“Y/n.”

You looked up. Spencer stood near you, hands fidgeting. You could see his eyes avoiding yours and suddenly you felt like laughing. After all of this time thinking one of the hottest people you’d ever met hated you, he was standing- nervous- in front of you. “Yeah?”

Spencer sat beside you. “Didn’t know you smoked,” he tried, looking towards the rising sun.

“You refused to make comversation with me for about a month when I started,” you said lowly. When Spencer sighed beside you, you added “I don’t normally. Just when… things happen.”

Spencer nodded. “Oh.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you exhaled. You offered the cigarette to Spencer, raising an eyebrow when he accepted.

“I want to talk to you,” Soencer said finally, snuffing out the cigarette.

You lit another one. “So talk.”

“Well, I… I’m sorry.”

When Spencer didn’t say anything for another few seconds, you turned to him. “Is that all?”

Spencer dropped his head into his hands. “Look, I knew I was keeping you at arm’s length. I thought… I thought keeping you away would make sure that I didn’t…” Spencer sighed.

“Reid, I need tou to really spell it out for me. I can’t keep dancing around your riddles,” you said, facing the sun.

“I love you, y/n. I thought that if I didn’t talk to you, let these feelings grow… Maybe I could harbor my attraction to you.”

You felt your heart skip in your chest. “You didn’t consider telling me this? What if I felt the same?”

Spencer looked at you, a confused look in his eyes. “You didn’t like me like that and I couldn’t force you to love me too. You’re way too good for me anyway.”

“I do,” you reply, nodding. “And I’m not too good for you, Spencer. If anything, you should find better than me.”

Prolonged eye contact and silence fell over the both of you.

“Ask me now, Spencer. Make up for lost time.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Spencer lips at your request. “Do you like me like I like you, y/n?”

You nodded, mirroring Spencer’s smile. “I do like you the way you like me, Spencer.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” Spencer asked immediately, eyes dropping to your lips.

You closed the distance between the two of you, hand sliding up the nape of Spencer’s neck to tangle in his curls. Spencer’s lips were skilled, leaving you wanting more as he pulled away.

“So, about that dream I had earlier,” you started.

A sly smirk replaced the smile on Spencer’s face. “I knew what you were dreaming about, I just couldn’t stand listen to you knowing how weird it would be for me to face you at work the next morning.”

You felt your face warm up at Spencer’s words. “Oh. Well. Sorry for waking you up, then.”

Spencer just shrugged. “I’m not- you sound very nice. I guess I will admit the fact that I told you about talking about your dreams was completely false. I just wanted to pry.”

You shook your head with laughter, the sun peeking up even further in the sky.

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hom3landr · 3 months

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Tea with Honey

Bakerverse

Every relationship has its firsts. Homelander’s budding romance with his Baker is no different. But not all firsts are pleasant.

Homelander can’t wait any longer to visit her. His heart stings and aches from the weight of rejection. There is a hole inside him that he hoped the promise of family would heal. He has no experience with Fatherhood but he’d figured that it would be natural; instinctual. But one can’t learn love in a lab. Even his best intentions came up lacking, a fall from a roof seemed like such a necessary harmless casualty. He doesn’t know how to handle things that were raised soft. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, so he spits it out and seeks reassurance from the hands of a ghost.

Deep deep down, he can’t forget. But that’s ok. The Madelyn in front of him lifts two milk covered fingers to his mouth and he willingly takes the offering given. If she is a ghost then she is one with a warm body, an eager mouth, and a soft lap. She is one with assurances and words he needs to hear. She is one that he can keep on a leash and who won’t disappear into smoke. This is a ghost who knows his sins and lets him sigh them into her skin.

He can’t forget but he can control the memory left behind.

He tells her about you and she eagerly responds to his tales of your softness. She urges him to take you. If he could watch from outside himself, he would see it as the plea it is. For Doppelganger is willing to feed you to the lion, toss you like a piece of meat to a snarling dog, wave you like a flag in front of a bull. Homelander hears Madelyn’s voice as a kindness and doesn’t see it for the desperate distraction that it is.

“What are you waiting for?” She coos. “You’ve shown her that you can be good but have you considered that she longs for the raw power you hold? Once she has experienced your strength then she will beg you to take her.”

It’s what he wants to hear. He’s proven that he can be good yet still your kisses remain sweet and your touches light. The beast within him is growing more difficult to quiet when it howls for that sweet heat between your legs. Your gentility is starting to feel like rejection. The hunger inside him is an empty ache. He needs to take up space in you.

———-

He grins at the fat raindrops that dampen his hair as he leaves the cabin. The ozone is a pleasant scent that lingers in the back of his throat and on his tongue. It tastes like power. He can relate to the wild fury of a thunderstorm. He wishes that his rage could also be seen as something natural and not some sort of flaw. Thunderstorms can rain hail and destruction without consequence and people will still find comfort in the rumble of thunder. Perhaps that is another reason why Stormfront makes him so bitter, he envies that she takes on the characteristics of the storms he loves so much. How dare she show her edges and still be adored?

But Stormfront can’t have you. You’ve told him as much. You admitted how much she gets under your skin. You told him that you don’t trust her and that the very sound of her voice makes your flesh crawl.

The only storm you’ll know is him.

————

Homelander’s hunger for you clouds his judgment and the cracks of thunder echo the hot pounding of his arousal as he contemplates his plan. He can’t wait to surprise you and finally show you what he’s capable of. He’s on autopilot as he flies to your apartment, mind busy with fantasies. He intends to make you scream so loud that even the fiercest weather would be deafened by your pleasure.

He lands on your fire escape and knocks cheerfully on your window. He can hear you startle through the walls, your heartbeat fluttering with surprise. He leans back on his heels and crosses his arms under his cape. He has to suppress a grin when he sees your distorted face through the rain smeared glass. You’re a watercolor painting and Monet can go fuck himself cause your beauty makes his works no more than trash. He longs to keep you hidden away so only he can appreciate you.

You open the window wide so he can climb inside. His wet cape drips puddles all over your floor and your brow furrows briefly at the mess before meeting his gaze with a quizzical smile. He takes a brief glance behind you to inspect your place. He hasn’t been inside since that perfect Christmas night and without the decor it’s painfully obvious that your apartment is in a poor state. He huffs a tiny laugh to himself. It wouldn’t take much to convince you of structural damage. He’ll make sure you have a place to stay.

“I didn’t know you were coming over! I’d have made dinner.” You lament, flustered at being caught in such an unprepared state. He waves your concern away. As pleasant as your cooking sounds, he still fully intends to eat.

“I wanna show you something.” He replies with a smile, gesturing to the open window behind him. He’s surprised that he hasn’t done this sooner. What better way to wow you than to give you a practical application. He’s been good but now he’s starving for you to see behind the gentleman’s mask he wears. He takes a closer look at you. You’re wearing nothing more than an old white t-shirt and some sleep shorts. He thinks if he looks close enough he can see the shadow of your nipples through the material. With the way it’s pouring, he’s bound to get an even better look soon.

Madelyn’s voice still echoes in his ear.

He’s so excited that he doesn’t notice things he’d usually be laser focused on. He doesn’t register the shiftiness of your eyes or the anxious way you fidget every time the thunder rumbles. Your heart is racing because you must still be surprised by his arrival. The scent of fear can’t be because of him. You were probably watching something scary. He can hear the strains of a true crime podcast that you’d turned down playing on the tv.

It’s not because of him.

“Right now?” You ask, nervously scratching your arm as a streak of lightning briefly lights up the sky. His hackles instantly rise at your apparent lack of enthusiasm.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He replies sharply, sharper than he usually is with you. The instant rejection is a fierce sting to his ego. His fantasy already isn’t working out how he planned and he’s starting to feel annoyed and out of sorts. He was so sure you’d be wowed but apparently you’re feeling prissy tonight.

You wince at his tone. You glance anxiously out the window and bite your lip. He begins to tap his foot in impatience. You exhale roughly as though you’re preparing yourself for some great trial.

“I’m sorry you came all this way. I’m not feeling well so maybe we should reschedule. You’re welcome to stay and watch a movie! I can order us some takeou…” You don’t get to finish your sentence.

“I didn’t come here to watch a fucking movie!” He snaps and he hates the way you flinch. It makes his throat tighten up and his chest ache with hurt. You’re making him feel mean and foolish, needy in the way he seeks your attention.

This is all wrong. You’re not being you.

“We don’t have to watch a movie! I have some board games and I know I have a deck of cards somewhere.” You try to do damage control but your continuous deflections only make him more frustrated. Your gaze is wary now; it’s the first time you’ve been wary around him.

He stomps over and grabs your arm firmly. It’s not tight enough to bruise but you can’t pry him off as he guides you over to the window. You struggle and try to stutter out excuses and explanations but he doesn’t want to hear it. He scoops you up in his arms and is out on the fire escape in the blink of an eye. The rain immediately drenches you and he’s so frustrated that he doesn’t even register the way your clothes cling to your form.

“Stop whining. You’re gonna fucking love this. Don’t worry.” He attempts to soothe you. You have to like it. You have to like him. You’re frozen solid in his arms but he knows you’ll relax once you’ve adapted. Without a warning he shoots up into the air like a rocket.

It’s beautiful up in the storm clouds. Despite the flashes of lightning, Homelander knows you are safe even up in the sky. He can sense the sizzle in the air and smell the ozone before electricity splits the sky. He’d never let you be harmed. He wants to share this with you. He wants you to know this part of him. This is what you hold in your hands when you kiss him.

He looks down at you, anxious to see the awe on your face. He wants to smell your need for him mixed with the heady smell of ozone. But instead he’s met with your pounding heart and trembling form. Your hands are curled into icy claws and your breathing is rapid and shallow. Tiny pained noises escape your mouth with every panicked heave. You’re fucking terrified.

“It’s not that bad. I’ve got you.” He reassures you but he’s not even sure you can hear him right now. You shake your head jerkily and a wail escapes you as lightning flashes in the distance.

His heart drops and shatters on the ground far below as he realizes that this isn’t some passing anxiety.

Homelander wants to fucking shake you in anger. How come you’re overreacting now? This is him. You’re supposed to share this with him. He’s giving you this privilege and you’re spitting it back in his face.

You’re supposed to love (him) this. Why don’t you?

“P…please,” You manage to stutter out weakly. “Can we go back now?”

He should fucking drop you.

His fingers twitch with temptation. Of course he’d catch you, but you’d learn there are things worth crying about.

You anxiously paw at his chest.

“I want to go down now!” You sob. His fingers twitch again. You don’t smell like brown sugar anymore.

He startles as he feels a sharp sting across his cheek. You’ve grown wild in your terror now. While he lacks the capacity to bruise, the shock of the impact still has him rattled. Your chest heaves.

“PutmedownPutmedownPutmedown!” You repeat in a furious panic as you pound on his chest with your hands. Your fight response is fully activated and logic is clearly no longer in the picture as you lash out at the very thing keeping you in the air.

He almost lets go.

But instead he slowly glides back down, drawing out your torment out of spite. He drops you coldly onto the slick metal of the fire escape. You grasp the bars like a lifeline and Homelander’s nose wrinkles as you spit bile. You still haven’t ceased wailing.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” He hisses. His mood is blacker than the stormy sky. You don’t even look wounded. You might as well still be stuck in the air as you tremble and wheeze.

He wants to put his hands over his ears to block out your cries. He wants to fly away to safety. He wants to crush your skull. He wants to pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless till you calm. He wants to hold you. He wants to kill you. He wants to beg your forgiveness.

He wants. He wants. He wants.

As if on autopilot himself, he scoops you back up into your arms to carry you inside. He deposits you on the couch, gentler this time despite his whole body shaking with restraint. You curl up into a ball and hide your face from him.

This is like Ryan all over again.

He clenches his fists and storms into your kitchen in a rage. He needs distance from you before he does something rash. He paces like a caged animal in the small space. His reflection in the glass cabinets is judgemental but he refuses to acknowledge them. He ignores the soft calls of his name itching at the back of his consciousness.

“Look at me, Tiger.”

“You need to calm down John.”

“Pathetic! She’s gonna fucking hate you just like everyone else does.”

He slams his fists down on your counter and he hears a crack.

FUCK

His eyes land on a lone mug on your counter. It’s colorful and chipped and so you that the unexpected rush of endearment he feels helps direct him out of his rage. His brow furrows as an idea begins to form. He can fix this. He just needs to do what you would do. He looks around, pointedly avoiding the cabinets. He sees a box of tea bags. He exhales sharply. He opens the fridge and fills the mug with water from your filter. He heats it with his vision till it's bubbling. He dips the tea bag in it and with one last flourish because he’s not sure if it’s safe to face you yet, he locates a container of honey that he gives a generous squeeze.

He takes a deep breath as he exits the kitchen.

You’ve calmed down considerably although your head is still buried in your knees. Your breathing is a little steadier and your agonized wails have quieted into soft sniffles. You’re still shivering as the fading adrenaline and damp clothes send chills through your body. He grabs a blanket from a nearby basket as he tentatively walks over. He sets the tea down on the coffee table in front of your spot on the couch and wraps the blanket around your shoulders. It feels strange, taking care of somebody else. Especially someone he’s still angry at.

“I’m sorry,” Your words are shaky and muffled. You sound so sad. “I’m so so so sorry. I ruined everything”

Homelander freezes, his brow furrowed in confusion. You’re apologizing?

“I have a phobia and I should have said something but it happened so fast. I was so scared and I lost control and panicked. I shouldn't have hit you.” Your voice is thick with guilt.

“Please,” He scoffs, weirdly amused and a little unsettled by your concern. “You couldn’t have hurt me if you tried. Now c’mon and look at me.”

You lift your head. Your eyes are red and swollen.

“I shouldn’t have hit you.” You reiterate and Homelander’s chest tightens. “I’m sorry. It was wrong.”

For a moment the silence is deafening. The sincerity in your gaze unsettles him. You reach out and your fingers tenderly brush the area of impact. It’s not tender. It barely even hurt

Shocked hysterical laughter starts to build in Homelander’s throat at the solemn look on your face.

Well fuck.

Isn’t that a fucking first.

You watch him quietly as he doubles over and holds his stomach. It’s not a laugh of amusement and if he was an outside observer he’d realize just how wounded it sounds. It’s pure emotional release.

You’d barely even given him a love tap. You’re sitting over there with your big wide weepy eyes as though you’d fucking beat him senseless. You’re acting as if you’d thrown him into a fucking oven.

He wheezes until his chest hurts. All the repressed anger and anxiety now flooding out in sheer astonishment. He was so sure you’d hate him.

He feels something warm wrap around his shoulders and his giggles begin to quiet. He looks over to you only to startle for a second at how close you are. You’ve wrapped the other end of the blanket around him. Your expression is soft but unreadable. You rest your forehead against him and he shudders.

“I…” He pauses. He can’t quite articulate what he wants to say. It’s not your fault. He didn’t pay attention. He didn’t listen. But admitting such feels like a weakness. It chokes him.

“I made you some tea.” He says instead, pulling back to hand you the mug. His voice barely shakes.

You smile and as you cradle the mug and take a sip, he notices that you smell like brown sugar again.

“Tea with honey is my favorite.” You reply sweetly, after giving a pleased hum at the taste. He may not have said it out loud but he can tell you understood with the way you look at him. Things are so easy with you. He turns to bury his face in your wet shoulder as you sip.

“I forgive you.” He mumbles, half hoping you don’t catch it.

“I forgive you too” You reply.

He doesn’t sleep with you that night…at least in the primal sense. But it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep on his chest once the two of you decide that a movie might be just the thing for a stormy night after all. Lounging on the couch, while dressed in some soft sweatpants, and with you warm and sleepy on his chest, he comes to the conclusion that this is just as good as fucking anyway. You make soft noise in your sleep and snuggle further into the whorls of hair on his bare chest. (Something you’re absolutely delighted by if your physical response at the reveal was any indication)

In fact, it might even be better than fucking.

He lazily decides that he can love storms enough for the both of you.

#it was storming as I wrote this lol #this was supposed to be for Domaystic but OOPS #also this fic was planned out for ages but s4e4 gave it extra context I didn’t intend #procrastination win ig #homelander #homelander x reader #x reader #bakerverse

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vilsoo · 11 months

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𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 ⌇TOJI FUSHIGURO

perv!toji fushiguro x married!reader || WC: 3,928

𖤐 SYNOPSIS. married and having the best sex with your husband was no matter to your next door neighbor toji, who’s obsessed with watching everything you do from his window. but one night, he devised a plan to make you as his forever.

𖤐 WARNINGS. noncon, drugging, stalking/voyeurism, murder threats, perverted neighbor, kinda yandere, forced cuckolding, minor gunplay, bondage, degrading, dark obsession, kidnapping, eventual smut, forced creampie.

HORRORLAND/KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

[HAUNTED HOUSE ANNOUNCER] You are now entering the Freak Next Door live venue. This haunted house attraction depicts scenes of violence, intense loud audio, special effects, and content warnings posted. For a fun and safe experience, please follow our code of conduct: no touching live performers and decorations, no flash photography, and no eating. Do not block passageways, or this will result in expulsion. Smoking and drinking are permitted for our haunted houses only. We hope you enjoy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Who needs hardcore porn when your perverted neighbor could watch you and your husband fuck for free right next door?

Your first mistake was never closing the blinds to your bedroom. But for a sick and twisted man like Toji Fushiguro, he’s thankful every damn day that you never did. Admiring you from afar, a perfect distance where he’d sit by his window that perfectly captures the views of your bedroom and kitchen windows. He loves to watch you undress. He loves to watch you get ready for work. He loves to watch you sleeping when your husband isn’t home. Everything about your features and radiant personality appealed to Toji so beautifully, like tending to a delicate toy he refuses to let go. But because he couldn’t have you, it was best to let him watch from a distance where he could see only you, allowing him to have at least some sense of possession.

He’ll never get enough of watching you get fucked so hard by your husband. Every. Fucking. Night. Seeing your head pinned on the bed as he fucks you so rough, the bed rocking back and forth, that mix of passion and roughness… he took sick fucking pleasure in everything you do.

You were a perfect slut in his eyes. But it was a damn shame that your pathetic husband got to experience how fucking filthy you really are…

You’ve known Toji for three years now. You greet each other every morning on the driveway as you leave for work, him showing a pleasant facade like the good neighbor he is. You only think of him as someone who enjoys the company of your husband since they seen much more close. Going on their morning jogs together every Sunday and even the neighborhood gym. But behind closed doors, the man who you thought was so sweet and hospitable was nonetheless possessive when it comes to you.

Toji kept track of your routine for the past few months. On weekdays you’d be awake at 8 am and spend an hour getting ready for work. Your breakfast would be at 9 with your husband who mostly does the cooking, serving you your favorite meals. After you leave for work, your husband would then leave an hour after you. By noon you’d come back from work an hour after Toji. He’d linger in his bedroom just to watch you strip off your clothes and head for the shower from his window, your naked body so charming to see. Then you’d cook dinner for your husband when he arrives.

The rest of your afternoon doesn’t appeal to Toji since you’re busy with errands and work, until, things get heated by nightfall. Specifically when you and your husband get ready for bed.

These special nights are Toji’s absolute favorite. With just the perfect view right across, he’d fist his cock and jerk off while watching your pretty cunt getting toyed with and pounded senselessly. Seeing you being treated like nothing but a fuck doll, fucked in multiple positions for the longest until you pass out and your husband would give you aftercare. But his every thought would be plagued by how fucking hot you looked. There was one night where your husband actually fucked you on the window with the blinds slightly opened, your tits and the side of your face pressing against the glass as he pounded into you from behind. Toji has never came so fast and so much in his life after witnessing that.

Your moans would be loud, but not loud enough for him from this distance. He wanted to hear your beautiful cries and screams up close himself. He wanted to see how sexy your tits would be bouncing in his grip as he rocked the bed ‘till it shatters. He wanted to see how you’d look with marks all over from spanking you as many times as he’d want. He wanted to, he wanted to. Objectifying you like the pervert he truly was, getting off to his forbidden fantasies, the impulses with just you at the center— he’d stroke his cock faster, feeling the taut electricity run through him, making himself come the same time as your husband makes you come.

Oh, Toji could easily do that. He could easily fulfill his dark fantasies with you. Though it may seem unobtainable, he’d fucking kill just so he could have you. Perhaps even have you for more than just fucking and literally settle down with you for life, being apart of his future. But the only thing standing in his way is, well, your husband. It boils his blood knowing that that man is the only man making you feel good. It boils his blood knowing that he’s the only one that can show how much he loves you dearly.

Because according to Toji, it should be him fucking you. It should be him walking by your side for life. It should be him, not your husband, no matter how good he is or how well he treats you. Your vulnerability and innocence makes him so fucking greedy— as if he was owed some compensation for his extensive dedication on stalking you for several months now, and his reward would be only you.

Toji wants you as his. He often thought about killing your husband in order to get what he always wanted. Various options come across his mind— drive-by’s, poisoning, or kidnapping him far away to bash his brains out. Maybe even hold him at gun point just to witness the fear in his eyes. If it all couldn’t work out, he had an alternative option: tying your husband to a chair and forcing him to watch you get fucked hard on the bed you shared.

The fantasies of killing and ruining your husband the most brutal way made him exhilarated. But he knew that it was all unrealistic; you were loyal, you were loving, you were an amazing wife paired with an amazing husband. And all he could do was watch from afar… Masturbate, fantasize, admire, and only speak when you approach him in the neighborhood— totally not thinking about bending you over wherever he wanted, ripping your yoga leggings to show your cunt, and fucking you so relentlessly. Because the more he watched, the more he couldn’t stop falling for you everyday, for the dark passion and longing to have you one day will forever haunt him. One day you will be his. And he would never let anyone take you away from him…

It wasn’t until Toji came up with a plan that took months to scheme. And tonight was the night; the night your neighbor, Toji Fushiguro, would finally get to have you as his.

Such a process was not that difficult, for he’d do anything just to have you. It was all out of passion; an interesting feeling that Toji finds so strong and barely controllable for you. Passion was the only word, the only way to describe his motivation. Not a single thought of you went by his mind without being accompanied by his arousal. And such a strong sense of arousal was exactly what he felt between his legs as you sat across him.

Tonight, your husband invited Toji over for dinner. But such a fool he was, to think that Toji was actually his friend all along and under the impression that he was just a generous next door neighbor. Toji was only using him just to get closer to you. Your chemistry, your love, your strong devotion, and even your fucking marriage contract couldn’t stop Toji from his erratic feelings for you. In fact, there was nothing that was going to stop him from what he was about to do to the both of you.

All thanks to the special meal he prepared for the both of you.

The clock ticked. Toji’s foot kept fidgeting underneath the table. A longing to part your legs and finally have you turned his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping the table. It wasn’t until the end of dinner couldn’t have come fast enough— it’s been ten to fifteen minutes and the effects should already be kicking in. He watched warily for the signs; your husband starting to feel a bit woozy and your grip on the silverware starting to fall loose.

A few minutes later, you and your husband finally collapsed.

Toji rushed over to you only, catching you before your beautiful body fell drastically on the floor. When you were both unresponsive and rendered motionless, it was time for Toji to execute the plan and start the moment he’s been dying to experience. The fun that finally begins. His eyes burned with excitement and the adrenaline rushed through him that his cock bulged so hard through his pants it hurt like hell. He was already sent into sexual rage.

Toji had to take care of your husband first. He took a chair from the dining table and the rope from the bag he hid, bringing everything upstairs one by one. He tied your husband to the chair, finding some duct tape to seal that over your his mouth. As you were laying peacefully on the bed, Toji took a deep breath before carefully stripping off your clothing. Once his eyes fix upon you, he dares not to blink as he takes in your bare skin he’s been dying to caress, seeing you naked and unconscious before him.

“You are finally mine,” Toji whispers tenderly. It’s been an agonizing wait for him, to finally run his hands up and down the shape of your body, and finally seeing your pretty cunt so up close he couldn’t wait to fuck.

After taking more rope and putting duct tape over your mouth, he tied your wrists and ankles above your head. That way it would be impossible for you to ever close your legs and force you to take every fraction of his cock, facing him at all times and watch him fuck you as hard as your husband does every night. But of course, he’d do it better. Toji’s cock was much larger than average— (your husband’s size) and knowing just how much of a slut you are, he knows that you can take it all.

He then walked over to your unconscious husband, chuckling at him and playfully nudging his head. “Don’t worry, buddy. At least you have the perfect view when I fuck your wife on your very own bed. And when I’m done, she’ll belong to me.”

When everything finally felt ready, Toji made a loud sound that jolted the both of you awake, confused and slightly disoriented of the different setting and why you couldn’t move. Toji could hear heavy panting and both of you struggling in your ropes. You tried calling for each other but your voices were muffled. But if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’s ever seen in person so far— the way your cries of panic were muffled and you couldn’t even move a limb from being tied up like that… a helpless slut that presents her holes for fucking and breeding had his blood rushing, penetrating his psyche. He was growing impatient.

Toji had his gun, reloading it from outside the bedroom that you both flinch in fear and freeze. You both couldn’t see nor recognize him until you watch in horror as he finally enters the room, chuckling at the chaos he created. There was absolutely nothing that was going to stop him from doing what he was dying to do, to pursue you with the love and pleasure you deserve from only him. And god, he couldn’t back down now when he saw the fear and terror surging in your eyes that it turned the fuck him on.

“Aw, look at you. All tied up for me and showing your pussy off to me,” Toji cooed, running the muzzle of the gun down the side of your face you trembled, every nerve in your body struck with fear, humiliation, betrayal, rage... He could hear your husband swearing and yelling at him from behind, fighting aggressively through that rope when he laid a finger on your body.

But Toji didn’t give a shit. He took in the delectable sight of your naked body being offered for him like a Christmas present. Tears started rolling down your cheeks as you start to pull on the restraints, little whines and sniffles from the stinging pain. You rapidly shake your head at him as he kept violating you, trying so hard to inch as far away as possible but it was inevitable for your body to succumb to it.

Toji chuckled, the barrel of his gun brushing on the folds of your cunt it made you squirm. “Pretty dolls don’t cry, sweetheart. We’re here to show your pathetic husband how much of a slut you are for me. Look at you, already fucking wet from my gun teasing your clit.”

You sobbed and whined, forcing your eyes shut as your cunt began to throb when his gun eased in and out on your folds faster. He smiled in amusement when he sees the way your body reacted differently than your emotional state, which is just what he needed. “I’m sure you’re loving this as much as I am,” he mused. “You sound so beautiful. I can’t wait to make a mess outta you right here. That man won’t compare to the way I’m gonna fuck you tonight.”

Your stomach contorted in agony when Toji undid his pants, slipping out his aching cock that couldn’t bare to waste any minute with you. The more he kept touching you, kissing your tears away, and playing with your clit, the more your husband was fuming with infuriation and rage, trying to inch the chair closer until Toji aimed his gun at him.

“If you don’t shut your fucking mouth and stay put, I’ll blow your goddamn brains out in front of her. And you wouldn’t wanna traumatize her more, am I right?” he threatened with a sardonic chuckle.

In the midst of your staggering emotions, you felt utterly betrayed. The deceit you’ve engulfed yourself in about Toji Fushiguro was nothing but a lie. Is this really him? The same man that greets you sweetly when you arrive at your driveway? The same man that offered to help your husband in the garden? The same man that loves to help people? You weren’t as close to him as your husband was. What you thought a handsome gentleman and a pleasant next door neighbor would be… was nothing but an obsessive, impulsive freak that has a predatory chase to derive pleasure, control, and satisfaction from having you.

Toji tended back to you, touching you in anticipating ways that made your motions get gradually frantic, cunt quivering and body twitching on his cock rubbing you. Your sensitive body just couldn’t help but sink into arousal... Maybe it was the possession and obsession he’s had for you the longest— that feeling of being desired and honored that your husband doesn’t show enough. Deep down, you knew this was wrong. You were sick and humiliated from Toji doing this in front of him. You could sense your husband’s anger and the helplessness of not being able to do anything…

But your body language towards him was saying otherwise. You were guilty— oh, so guilty— of your cunt throbbing while being tied up and teased like this to a handsome man like Toji. And once he could read and feel your body and mind giving up to him, not one drug could compare to the ecstasy he’s experiencing.

“Aw. Didn’t even fuck her yet and she’s getting off to this already,” Toji chuckled, making sure your husband was hearing. “I know how long you’ve wanted this— I fucking know you fantasize about this as well... Tell me you think about your hot next door neighbor fucking the shit out of you and I won’t kill you.”

A mewl was all you could respond with, once again provoking the insane man. He let one finger drift over your cunt and slipped inside, crooking it to find that soft, textured spot that would push you over the edge. You hated everything about this filthy moment, but yet— you were shamelessly grinding and bucking your hips to his fingers. Your fingers reach for the binding ropes as something to grip on, your sobs mixing with your soft moans.

“Every night, I’ve been watching you two from my window get it on. Right here, on this bed. But I gotta admit, those were my favorite fuckin’ nights. Watchin’ you being treated like a slutty whore and your pussy getting stretched out… I just couldn’t stop thinking if only that were me, you know?”

The change of tone in his voice was rather raspy and aggressive, prompting you to shudder. His dark confession made the pace of his fingers grow faster and harder, more fingers slipping in, letting out pathetic whines and thighs shake as you were already nearing an orgasm. Usually it takes longer with your husband to make you come, but with Toji— it felt as if he already memorized your body to know what shatters you faster…

Your husband kept yelling and cursing at him but he kept going. Infuriation and betrayal was burning through his eyes as he was struggling and forcing himself out the ropes. But for some reason you were ashamed to look at him. You couldn’t bear to see his face. You wish that he could stop squirming in the seat and keep quiet until it was all over. But how will things be now when this is actually over?

“I warned you.” Toji gave a menacing glare at your husband as he pointed his gun at him again. “Keep your fucking mouth shut or I’ll blow your jaw off. Stay where you fuckin’ are.”

Another tear falls from your eye. Toji puts the gun down on the bed before tending to your anguish, kissing the side of your face and caressing you sweetly. “Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. I just wanna be inside you already…”

Toji grabs onto your throat, hovering over you closer as he slips his cock slowly and deeply into your cunt. Your thighs shudder as you tried to resist, but his tight grip held you in place. A little bit of struggle was no problem to him, since he could tell by the way your body reacts you easily caved into the sensation.

“Fuck. I have wanted—” Toji broke off with a groan, tracing the outline of your collarbone with his breath, “For so fucking long… to fuck you exactly like this...”

You were already losing yourselves from this brain-fazing sensation, this dangerous arousal awakening from every harsh, violent thrust of Toji’s long, thick cock slamming into you so deep inside you that an orgasm could be just a few thrusts away. He’s dreamed about hearing the pretty noises and moans you make, and finally hearing them up close intoxicated his bloodstream like a man gone fucking wild. All that pent up anger and madness thumping in his blood, each thrust resonating a sound indeterminable from your duct tape. Are you actually screaming of pain or are you moaning in pleasure from this..?

“You’re mine above everyone else, pretty girl. I’ll fucking own you in every way possible.”

There really was nothing you could do, for every harsh thrust into your cunt clouded your thoughts and numbed your body. As you were lost in the ecstasy and began to writhe in it, your body contorted. You feel his desire through the strength of his grip, inching his face closer that you meet his eyes. And there you could take in his strong, undying passion and lust for you. This was his everything with you. The forceful slapping of skin, the screams, the moans, loss of breath, the heat, and the bed nearly breaking…

You even forgot about your husband, sitting there and watching the way Toji fucked you harder and better than he did. And what made him infuriated was that he could tell you enjoyed it all…

After he made use of your perfect body the way it’s meant to be used, he pulled out real slow and steady, the ropes holding your legs and hips so high that none of his cum could leak out. He stared and admired for a bit, your legs still forced apart so he could take a good into you. He took a few pictures, too.

A beautiful sight on how much of a mess he made of you... Fuck, Toji couldn’t just get enough of it. He was unhinged. A desperate, howling animal. All of your sensitive tissues that should never see another man’s cock or the light of day. He’s worked your body and your cunt so good. The way your holes were so wide and deep from his cock hollowing into you was evident enough. He could see your thighs trembling, probably still from fear, but also from those intense, overstimulating orgasms your husband will never reach out of you.

“Look at how fucking hot she looks. This is how you fuck a slut properly. She didn’t even look at you the whole time cause you’re too pathetic. Heard her moaning my name under that duct tape, too.” Toji bragged in front of your husband.

Before he could charge right at him and attack, Toji was already one step ahead by knocking him out with the gun’s barrel again. The both of you are currently unconscious, leaving Toji to admire your body just one more time before he could keep you forever. He could see the muscles of your cunt flexing around nothing, your abused cervix as well, which was filled all the way to the brim with his cum. You were so, so fucking beautiful to him.

“You’ll be coming along with me now,” Toji whispered as he unraveled your ropes. “A new home for the both of us, far away from here…”

And just a few days later when Toji finally took care of your husband, there was a basement that he prepared a month earlier before everything. You were laying on a bed unconscious, all of your limbs chained and spread apart on the posts. Toji couldn’t stop staring at how softer your expressions were, and your beautiful lips free from duct tape. You were finally his prized possession. He couldn’t hold back longer to claim you over and over again. He hovered over to kiss you so sweetly, consumed by your scent, consumed by your touch, that his wandering fingers became too eager to feel your wet cunt.

He couldn’t wait for you to wake up. See the beauty come alive right in his eyes. Feel you again and again. Have passionate sex with him and nobody watching this time. But before he could move away and let you wake up, you were mumbling inaudibly. It was no mistake to Toji what he heard that morning that made him smirk.

“Toji… Please, don’t stop…”

It seems that Toji wasn’t the only impatient one. Prompting a chuckle from his amusement, he plants a kiss on your forehead and inched closer to your lips, feeling you kiss back in a weak state. “Don’t worry, my love,” he mutters. “We have all the time in the world...”

“I hope you like your new home.”

this was originally written for sanzu on my old blog until i decided to steal my plot and write this for toji instead. lol

𖤐 TAGS: @kyumimii @crysugu @red-velvet-moth-hearts @atinystaypixie @rinshoe @justmaragudytha @apwing @kimekioo @mqfuyuu @1tslili @arikomot0si @tojigasam @strvwberrymilk @maidenssymphony @shycoffeetaco @honeybeegoburrr8 @killzenin @ackachii @titantears @xxhamtara @ecstaacy @migueloharacumslut @hayati17 @palefuckinghost @maddietries @yourfavoriteobnoxiousomnisexual @milestacy @nanananamiiii @shoyosdoll @blackhoodlea @dollicries @hehehehesthings @oneofthesevensins @jaennii @dorkfilmz @sillygardeneggperson

#🕸️. 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk toji #jjk fanfic #toji fic #toji smut #tw dark content #tw stalking #tw dark fic #tw noncon #tw drugging #tw gunplay #tw yandere

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springwitch26 · 5 months

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flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti smut #wlw smut #4/20 friendly #stoner fic #fanfic

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vyglitchcraft · 1 year

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Hi I’d like to request Scorpion, smoke and sub zero with a virgin reader 🫣

Gotcha 😉 imma do this HC + scenario style also since you didn't specify MK1 or 11 i did both (except for Smoke)

Lin Kuei Bros x Virgin!Reader HCs (18+)

MK1 and 11 Kuai Liang, Bi Han, MK1 Tomas Vrbada x Gen!reader (+ bonus Hanzo Hasashi)

Kuai Liang (MK11)

Being in the Lin Kuei is a very isolating life style even compared to the Shaolin monks who live their life purely filled by training, abstinence, and discipline but in the Lin Kuei, everyone you love will either die or turn against you and you can't do shit except just deal with it and move on while leading the others who haven't suffered that fate yet.

You were Kuai's first and he was yours. Although he knew what to do (coming from his older brother who kept bragging about all the women and men he slept with)

Kuai doesn't really like sleeping around, he always wanted to sleep with someone he has a deep connection with but of course after all the shit he went through, he never had time, that is until you came.

Kuai is a gentle lover, cold, stiff, but gentle. He knows his strength so he wouldn't do anything to hurt you. He can read emotions well, for his first time, he's doing VERY well

You held onto the grandmaster's arm tightly, your head rolled back onto the pillow as you see your lover slowly pushing himself against your opening. He was cold but that was expected. He held your head softly, as he broke the barrier and fully pushed himself inside of you. Coolness spread across your whole body yet it was pleasant. He kissed your forehead while he asked your permission to move. You said yes and he started off with a slow but deep pace that pressed against all the right places.

Kuai Liang (MK1)

You were also his first. Although he had some experience dating. The Lin Kuei isn't exactly strict when it comes to relationships. He hated the idea of sleeping around, to him his first should be shared with someone he deems worthy, and after beating him in a spar, he deems you as worthy of his love.

He is a gentle but fierce lover, he isn't self conscious about his abilities to pleasure you. Even for the first time, he's confident that you'll enjoy it.

The day you two decided to do it. He started getting ready, asking his brothers for advice. He prepared everything he might need and made sure that today was perfect and unforgettable. It felt more like a date, a date someone inexperienced planned but it came from the heart so you couldn't care less about the minor details.

He always had some very extreme kinks and fantasies but for tonight, he won't do anything extreme, he'll make sure you'll go there slowly.

Kuai held your hips as he kissed your neck, his lube covered fingers slowly working your hole. Sloppy sounds echo the room with moans and groans following with it at the same time. He slowly pulled his fingers out and spread the remaining lubricant on your opening, you swear it was cold when you started but after a while, the room felt boiling hot. He grinded the shaft of his cock against your opening before slowly pushing it in. You felt like you were going into a fever, a good one. One that you couldn't get enough of, for tonight, the only one who matters is you and him.

Bi-Han (MK11)

Falling in love with the cold embrace of death was certainly not healthy. The two of you dated before Hanzo killed Bi-Han for revenge. You mourned him for years, promising not to take another lover again. That is until you met him now. A shadow of his past life. His voice, his appearance, it was all so different but you know it was him, you could just feel it and luckily he remembers you and the two of you started to date again.

He's rough around the edges, even before he takes your virginity, he always enjoyed doing some sexual acts with you, usually his shadow clone, Saibot, appearing to help while he watches.

His hand is always in your pants and you have to admit, he was very skillful with his hands. Be it rubbing your clothed genitals until your arousal soaked through the fabric of your pants or fingering you until you saw stars. The fact that you never did this with anyone else makes it easier for him to pleasure you, specifically because of your sensitivity.

Saibot would hold you on its lap, its fingers inside of you as Bi-Han sat across you, pleasuring himself.

He laughed as you squirmed under him, his touch was anything but delicate. Luckily he has prepared you for this night. You laid on top of Saibot as it held your legs open. Bi-Han rubbing the arousal soaked underwear that you wore, spreading the natural lubricant around before he rips your underwear off. Inky black marks were left everywhere he touched. He pushed himself inside of you aggressively, not letting your body time to adjust but the pain was so so delicious. He spreads you open even more. You will not be walking after this night.

Bi-Han (MK1)

You weren't his first, that was obvious enough. He dated many, broke as many hearts, slept with even more. But he promised, with you it was different. You'll be the last person he'll date. He will never leave you for someone else, you're different.

Bi-Han is not a gentle lover at all. He's rough, he's egotistical, he's immature at times but you know he loves you, that he is capable of being kind. You were his Achilles heel.

Like his MK11 counterpart, you might be a virgin but you two have done some amounts of sexual activities, usually including ice to your dismay/pleasure. His cold fingers touching you in all the right places was enough to get you hooked onto him for iife and the noises you made did the same to Bi-Han.

For your first time, he'll make sure to claim you far away from peering eyes. Somewhere where only he could see you in such a pathetic manner and only he could hear your pained/pleasured screams

You screamed Bi-Han's name as he pushed another ice cube inside of you. Your virgin hole unable to take such feelings even after all the "training" he made you do. The last cube entered your body right with his cock next. He commanded you to beg for him, it was painful but you loved it, it's why you picked him over anyone else. You begged for him to move, to claim you as his own. He obliged. Letting the melted ice cubes cover his cock, making movements way easier. His cock simply slides in and out like a piece of ice on a frozen lake.

Smoke (MK1)

He had some one off slings here and there but none of them were serious. Bi-Han encouraged him to sleep around with a few people but he never exactly found any of them that pleasurable. Although he thinks it might be because of himself lacking the same skill and charisma as Bi-Han.

When he met you, he swore he heard wedding bells. It was love at first sight. He's a sweet one, never pushing you to do anything. Whether you two have done anything sexual before hand is completely up to you. He doesn't mind letting you take the lead.

When you brought up the idea of sex, he immediately was flustered. Sure it wasn't new to him but this time, it was different, it was romantic. Everything should be perfect right? He was panicking, he couldn't help it, Tomas was both excited and nervous.

Although he seems soft and gentle, be warned, he can get rough. He isn't part of the Lin Kuei for nothing.

Tomas filled his mouth with smoke before kissing you. Tasting your lips and tongue while smoke slowly fills into the space of your mouth. It was spilling out from the gaps of your lips. He praises you, whispering sweet nothings, making sure only you could hear him even through the thin walls of the temple. He slowly pushed your pants down your thighs, he licked his lips before going down, lifting your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue danced against your opening, his spit making you slick before the two of you went into the main attraction. Your fault for encouraging him to take over, of course you didn't regret anything

bonus +

Hanzo Hasashi (MK11)

He was very experienced in terms of romance and sex, he had a wife and son after all. Hanzo is the only person on this list who knows what an actually healthy relationship is like and how to actually make sure your partner is experiencing pleasure.

He takes things slow with you, even for all the anger and rage, he couldn't afford losing another partner. He asks for your approval for almost everything but unlike Smoke, he prefers to lead not to submit. He is simply asking for your consent.

He guides your way through every session. He needs you to get used to the feeling of his touch and he needs to know every single sensitive spot on your body. You could feel his experience, he knows his way through his partner's body. Even if you didn't tell him, just by feeling you clenching around his fingers or your expression, he could tell where he should add pressure and where he couldn't.

For him, he could take the form of Scorpion or Hanzo in bed, whichever you wish. But for your first, you chose Hanzo.

The chain on his kunai wrapped around your body and neck. Your hands on your back, your legs spread open and unable to close. His stare dug into your soul. He analyzed every single detail of your body, the way you reacted from the bondage, the way you looked away in shame seeing that you couldn't hide your arousal from his gaze. He sighed and softly pushed you down on the bed, lining himself up with your opening. He counts down from three, every number making sure to look at your face, as the countdown falls to zero, he pushed himself deep into your body, angled so well that the head of his cock was pressing right against your G-Spot. You moaned out his name, holding onto the bedsheet under you as you begged for him to use you, only him, your first and last.

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lesbiandonnanoble · 11 months

Text

ranking torchwood members by how nightmarish the blunt rotation would be. number 6 ultimate least worst is gwen but only because i love drama so much and don’t mind comforting people if they cry. any smoke sesh w gwen you’d walk away knowing the funniest most insane interpersonal drama on the planet. three hits in her eyes would already be getting red and she would lean over and say “SWEAR to me you won’t repeat this to anyone, but” gwen babygirl i am all ears. i would roll for you and just sit and watch you smoke it. at #5 honorary mention for suzie. she would find the perfect music for the vibe. she would roll an immaculate joint. the conversation would be heartfelt, pleasant. real.. by the time i realize i’m slowly dying and she’s gaining strength i wouldn’t even care tbh. ideal joint-sharing experience. #4 would be owen because i know that as long as i laughed at his jokes he would smoke me up indefinitely. his delusion that he’s cool and badass would get more embarrassing and apparent when high like mac it’s always sunny levels . and you might have to suffer some hero complex stories but i just know his very cool-looking bong has crystal clear water the second he knows anyone’s coming over. #3 is easily ianto. high chances of bringing a really uncomfortable weird energy to any smoke sesh. i once met a guy who said he’d been practicing rolling joints since he was a kid with paper and pencil shavings and then rolled the joint that fucked me the hardest i’ve ever experienced and that’s what smoking ianto’s shit would be like. except he’s just sitting there looking at you with wet dog eyes the whole time. his vibe would be still weirdly too professional, like the business major who tries to network at house parties. toshiko my lady.. second worst person to smoke with in torchwood not for any awful reason. her jokes would be the funniest out of all of them. her laugh would be enchanting. but you can tell she’s so nervous and trying too hard and the vibe gets more and more awkward and you desperately want to tell her it’s fine but you worry calling attention to it might make her feel worse and you stare at her and she stares at you, takes a beautiful bong rip, and says something so self deprecating you have to look away. the #1 most nightmarish person to share a joint with in torchwood is obviously jack. he pulls out a bag of purple shit, a strain he informs you is called ‘megacock OG’, and loads it into his 23rd century fucking instant vaporizer and promises it’s “got a hell of a kick” and you blink and it’s 20 minutes later and you’re flinching nearly shitting yourself every time his stupid fucking dinosaur swoops overhead ,sweating buckets, and he’s grinning slapping the table laughing opposite you while his genuinely cringeworthy sex stories, seemingly endless, ring in your ears like churchbells.

#my personal prognosis after rewatching one season of torchwood #torchwood #doctor who #jack harkness #toshiko sato #ianto jones #owen harper #gwen cooper #my stuff

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whoahoney · 1 year

Text

Eddie from Chili’s

Waiter!Eddie x Shy!reader

A/N: based off my experience with a super cute waiter I wrote about here. 😭 and no I haven’t been back yet! I still might, idk. But here’s this!!

Rip me + cole 4ever

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, shy!reader, fem!reader

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stood in front of the restaurant, smoothing down the front of your open corduroy shirt, questioning the little black strappy top you wore underneath.

It had been a month since you’d been here last and you’d hoped to God he’d recognize you now that you were alone and looked nicer.

During your previous visit to the bar and grill, you had the pleasure of having the hottest guy seat you—and your mother— and you hoped he wouldn’t be your server due to the fact you wore your dingiest shoes and a mustard plaid flannel with a gray Nirvana shirt. Not to mention your hair had passed its expiration date by three days.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks.” He’d said after taking your order.

He towered over you, his black shirt fitting him in all the right places while exposing his heavily inked arms— skulls and mythical creatures flowed up and down his arms as if shrouded in smoke. You wondered how long it took and how badly it hurt as you dropped your bag in the space next to you and slid into the booth.

His eyes were deep golden brown and had thick lashes to frame them, and they were set on you after flickering over your being and saying, “—and in case you need anything, don’t be afraid to grab me, my name's Eddie.” He lingered for a moment longer before turning his shoulders towards the kitchen across the bar and you could’ve swore he winked on his way past, successfully stunning you to your core.

He returned with drinks after giving you ample time to look over the menu, spending his free time leaning over the counter to talk to the bartender who appeared to be his buddy, chuckling and exchanging slightly degrading comments as the older women in the booth behind you exchanged risqué quips about the two of them.

He’d placed the drinks on the coasters carefully before bringing his hands together in front of him, shifting his weight slightly, “Would you like to order an appetizer? Or do you need more time?” He looked at you and you looked at your mom like a helpless thirteen year old. She nodded at you to speak with a pleasant smile on her face.

You swallowed at your dry throat, “We need another minute, please.” You fought to keep your eyes on his as you spoke but they kept falling down the table or away from his face. He had to have known the effect he had on you.

“No worries!” He said brightly and drummed his hands on the table before going back into the kitchen.

You groaned to yourself and try to focus on the menu, the words suddenly too overwhelming to comprehend. There were so many. And all so close together!

“What are you getting, dear?” Your mother asked, “I’m getting chips and salsa, and the sirloin!” She beamed looking down at the menu.

“Uh. The, uh.” You shake your head, “I dunno.”

“Do you need me to order for you?” She asks, concerned, noticing your state.

“—No.” you answered firmly. “I just can’t figure out what I want, I’m just not hungry right now.”

“Get the chicken pasta, you like that!” She assured before nodding as the cute waiter approached again.

“Are we ready?” He asked with a smile, looking between the two of you before resting his warm brown eyes on yours. You were seated by the window on a bright overcast day, the warm light of the lamp hanging over your table cast him in a golden glow and you couldn’t help but nod and forget every word you’ve ever known in the English language.

You turn and look at your mom for help and nod at her, “You go.”

“We’ll take the chips and salsa, with queso too, and I’ll have the sirloin, medium rare, with the broccoli and potatoes.” She said, giving him enough time to write between each item, like everyone should. She handed him the menu and looked at you as he did.

Suddenly the light was blinding and you looked down to the menu to discover you still couldn’t read the fucking words on the folder before you. “I’ll have the chicken fingers. Four of them.” You cringe.

“… four orders? Like.. 16?” He schools his face as your face drains of any color and then fills back up with magenta, probably.

“Just the four, please.” You recover.

“And do you want fries with that?” He smiled with a teasing lilt to his voice, your lips twitch up at the corners much to your dismay.

“Yes, please.” You nearly grit out of your clenched jaw.

He barely glanced down at his pad as the pen scratched across it. “Alright. I’ll get that in for ya!” And he disappeared again.

“I think I know what’s going on.” Your mother mused as she gazed at the dessert menu.

You blanch and swallow again, “No, mom.”

“Oh, now I know I’m right.”

“No, you’re not.” You insisted.

“Do I need to ask him if he’s single?”

“Please no.”

“Well you oughta know that boy has been making eyes at you this whole time.” Your mother leaned forward to utter between you.

You sharply inhale at the thought of him looking at you the way he did. “I can’t think thoughts when I look at him, mom.” You whine as you sink into your seat. “It doesn’t help I look like a twelve year old today.” You ran your hands down your makeupless face.

“Well when you sit like that you look about 4, and he’s headed this way so you better get up.” She warned.

You shoot up in your seat and clear your throat, preparing to say thank you.

Eddie appeared with the basket of chips and cups of dip, lingering again as your mom plucked up a chip and scooped up some queso, “Is there anything else I can get for you?” He said only to you.

You wait for your mom to answer, but her mouth is full so you shake your head no, “No, thank you.” You say, sharper than you meant to. Eddie nods and gives a tight smile before walking back to the kitchen.

Between the time it had taken Eddie to get the order in and the chef to cook it to perfection and send it back your way, the women behind you began ordering more and more drinks, getting louder with their advances when the bartender helped Eddie deliver food to his tables.

“Aww, what a good friend!” One drawled as she accepted her plate.

“We’re actually brothers.” The bartender affirmed, his hair shaved short as opposed to Eddie’s long dark curls.

The women gasped and you turned your head to the side, noticing Eddie shyly putting his hands in his pockets as his brother clapped him on the shoulder once the food was served.

“So how are y’all related?” Another asked.

Eddie gave his brother the side eye, “… our mom and dad?”

The women cackled at themselves, crooning about how they should’ve known they were brothers by their good looks and sweet dimples. You nibbled on a chip as the brothers proved their parentage by pulling out their licenses when one of them claimed disbelief.

“Well you’re a good brother!” One of the women gushed to the bartender as Eddie made long steps to the kitchen, his brother lingering at the table and soaking up the attention as he picked up their empty glasses, “Oh, I’m just helping him out cause he’s working til midnight tonight.”

Suddenly he was back, a blur of black and white as he approached the table with the platter of your food. He handed your mothers to her and set your basket on the table in front of you before you had the chance to reach out, giving you a quiet warning about the plate being hot.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” He asked you, again. This time your mom didn’t have food in her mouth as he waited for your answer, “Could I get some ketchup?” You suddenly ask.

Eddie’s ears perked and he reached across the table to grab the red bottle by the window, opening the top and squirting a generous helping on the side of your plate. You look up at him dumbfounded and embarrassed, swallowing before uttering, “I'm sorry, thank you.” You burned in the cheeks again.

He smiled smugly before setting the bottle down, “No worries. Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you.” He said before walking back into the kitchen again.

You exhale deeply and rest your hand on your forehead, “Oh my god.”

Your mother cuts her steak and takes a bite, “He’s good at his job.” She shrugged.

“I freaking know.” You whined again. “I can’t even eat.”

“Don’t worry about it, just get a box later.”

You picked at your food until Eddie stopped back by when your mothers plate was empty. He took her plate and asked, “Are you feeling dessert? Lava cake?” He asked between you both as your mother gazed at the dessert menu yet again.

“Mmm… Yes! Let’s have a lava cake!” She nodded. “Can we get two spoons?”

“—oh, I don’t want any, mom.” You shook your head.

“You sure?” She asked, Eddie looked at you as if to ask the same thing.

You look at both of them and nod, “Yeah—yeah, I’m sure.”

Eddie nodded at you with soft eyes, “Alright, well, is there anything else I can get for you?” He asked you, a lilt to his voice.

“A to-go box, please.” You muster, keeping your gaze focused this time on one of his beautiful eyes. He smiles and nods, checking on his other tables on his way to the kitchen.

You couldn’t help but notice his time was shorter at other tables. He was prompt, kind, cool and collected. He had a way with people that put them at ease— except you.

He returned to the table with your empty box, the dessert, and a leather bound check— handing both to you.

He handed your mother the plate with two spoons, despite your request, then tapped a ringed finger on the surface next to you.

His body was angled towards yours, as if to show you he was asking you, and you only, “Is there anything else I can get for you before I go out on my break?” He leaned on his hand, his head dipping towards his shoulder as he clicked the pen in his free hand.

You swallowed again and took a quivering breath as your gaze raked down his frame one last time and you shook your head, “No, thank you.”

“A-Are you sure?” He pressed, clicking his pen almost nervously as he waited for your response.

“Mhm!” You said with a closed mouth smile as you dumped your chicken fingers into the box.

He smiled tensely before he nodded and walked away, less hustle in his step as he dug in his back pocket for his cigarettes and disappeared through the kitchen doors for the final time.

The interaction has haunted you since.

You were a grown woman! How dare he take up this sort of residency in your mind—over something as stupid as a one time interaction.

Eddie the waiter with his big stupid brown eyes and his easy going facade. You bet it’s all fake anyway, there was no way anyone was that charming without any effort!

He’s in service, it’s his job to be nice and appealing! Who’s to say he wasn’t just smooth and doing it for kicks and tips!

But you did notice the way his brother tended to the rest of his tables in his absence, as if he’d waited for only you to finish before going on his break.

You replayed the moment he may or may not have winked at you in your mind a thousand times, feeling so pathetic as you wished for him to do it again.

After much convincing from your friends— and mother— you decided you’d come back, alone.

And this time you’d put more effort into your appearance, your makeup flawlessly done and deciding to wear your favorite outfit, complete with your best ass hugging jeans. Your hair was washed and styled, loose curls framed your face and your perfume was your best; not too strong, and fresh yet warm.

It is 1pm on a Friday afternoon, the same time and day you’d come last time, hoping he’d be scheduled to work today.

And with a deep breath in, you yank open the door and walk inside.

Part 2

#honey wrote #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #Eddie munson modern au #waiter!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson

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angelitaby · 8 months

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my random donatello headcanons. . !

── he's awkward in nature, but that doesn't stop donatello from calling you fascinating. the touch of your fingertips tracing the creases of his hands as he rambles on about your differences and familiarities. embarrassed, donatello stops his mumblings if he realizes what he's saying

── when donatello has feelings for someone, he might just be...softer, partially because he's confused about what he's feeling. he doesn't really want to feel it either. he might isolate himself more so it goes away. it however, doesn't.

── two words. parallel play. sitting together in the same room doing your own tasks. donatello at his desk as you do your own enjoyments beside him. some days it's a comfortable silence, other times you'll ramble, he likes to hear idle chatter. he might not know what you're talking about, but he loves the noise.

── donatello likes the way your heart beats against your chest. it’s never the same every time he lays his head on your chest, but there’s the same sense of relief he gets from it.

── donatello gets easily irritated/overstimulated by strong, bad smells. even with the ones he doesn’t actively dislike, he’s very picky with the scents he does like. however, one particular night while you were looking over his shoulder, he caught a grasp of your scent. whether you prefer the flowery kisses of roses and fresh cut daisies, or the earthy tone of left over raindrops on blades of grass. he found that it was a... pleasant surprise.

── future!donatello smells like cigarettes and metal rust—but in the smoke and sterile way. he'd try to cover it with eucalyptus. when he stresses out, he turns to cigarettes. he tends to wallow in his own sleepless pity.

── yandere!donatello who's mind had gone blank. his heart pounding within the bony confines of his chest, unable to move as your laugh replayed in his head multiple times. and what a scary feeling, terrifying to experience something so.. conflicting. his heart aches, but it feels good. he wants—no needs to know why?

── yandere!donatello likes to experiment on you. mentally, physically. you're so fascinating. your biology is different. desires are different. needs are different. there are many ways to make someone delirious, and he intends to explore each and every one.

── donatello listens to weird al yankovic because i said so.

── donatello likes someone who will understand his boundaries. he likes someone who listens. he likes it when someone seems interested in him or what he's talking about. donatello likes someone who will be quiet with him.

── i can definitely see donatello as a gray ace. (i mean he's purple he's literally asexual core/hj) i do project a bit of myself onto him in having anxieties about other people and myself that's stopping me from getting in relationships. "i'm busy. i have other things to do. i don't need to worry about it." and while true, that doesn't mean it's not nice. it's him using his hobbies and work as an excuse to not be with people even though, deep down, i think he wants it.

── donatello says he prefers his coffee black, but he enjoys it with creamer. french vanilla baby! something to keep in mind for the early mornings, the quiet yet comfortable silence of the fresh day as you press the palm of your hand on his shoulder or between his shoulder blades for a second as you set down a coffee you made for him. it's a small gesture, but it's domestic. it's sweet, he appreciates it.

── donatello really loves the little things because it feels mundane and human to him.

── donatello prefers black teas. april introduced him to a strong one with cane sugar and mint once. but he also likes pure green tea, lemon with ginger, and a special rose-strawberry tea on the occasion. but it has to be a subtle taste, not to sweet, spicy or heavy.

── donatello likes all sorts of dumplings and is not a fan of overly sweet food + most desserts.

── donatello would be willing to watch greys anatomy with you because he's a bitch and likes to point out inaccuracies which is hilarious coming from some bitch who doesn't have a medical license. however he does have respects for dr. gregory house, so he's decent enough when watching house.

── donatello's favorite body part of yours? "whichever parts are the farthest away from me, thank you." your hands. your palms which press against his plastron, your fingertips that send shudders down his spine when you trace over his shell. every crevice, every knuckle, every detail. need i say more?

#giggling and twirling my hair. i just love projecting my autistic tendencies on donnie<3 #rise!donnie #rottmnt donatello x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt x reader #rise donatello x reader #donatello headcanons #donatello hamato x reader

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dark-night-hero · 9 months

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Imagine being the twin traveller older siblings featuring honkai characters.

Imagine being in one of the planets that the trio, Dan Heng, March 7th and the trailblazer just happened to dropped by upon having some errands to un when they happened to come across you, You who was going planet to planet hopin to find your younger siblings, a twin that have been gone missing for some time now.

Imagine upon interaction, they find you quite intimidating. Your first meeting was after all, not very pleasant but thanks to you managing to put them out of troubles they would have been facing just like their other ventures. This might be the first time they manage to get out of trouble so quickly because of you. That might also be the reason why they somehow come to pursue you into tagging along with them, hoping to help you find the world your younger siblings where.

"You know, I'm starting to keep like I only came here to be the babysitter of this group. I should have taken upon Welt's offer to stay with him back in the express." "Hey! We're not kids!" "Yes, yes. Just a bunch of troublemaking idiots." You laugh as if the four of you aren't basically surrounded and accused of some shit. Then a figure on the corner of your eyes caught your attention but before you could even say a thing, a ball was thrown and a cloud of smoke soon appeared. Oh here goes another fucking trouble.

Imagine being put in a troublesome situation was nothing knew to you. With your younger siblings constantly causing troubles here and there whenever they were to venture another world, you were used to cleaning up their mess, just like who you decided to watch out for these dumbass trio. Looking at near distance as the trio converse happily with each other, talkig about the missions and experiences they have experienced in the other planet you've been through. You cannot help but to stare longingly.

"I hope they aren't too much to handle." It was Welt. "Oh them? Not really." You chuckle, looking to your side to find the man in there. "My siblings were far more troublesome than they are." "Sounds like they messed up alot." "They do... In fact there was this one time were they..."

"Oh fuck." You quickly look down and took a quick step behind Dan Heng. "???" "What's wrong?" The trio looked back worried at you when you urge them to look forward. "I just remember I've been here before." "Is there something that matter about that?" "Yes!" You shouted but quick cover your mouth. You shouldn't have accompanied them in this place. "You see that man in there? That's one of my ex." "Ex???" "Your ex is the Dozing General?!" "Yes! Now hush before he remember me!"

"The kids are rather worried." "Were they? Sweet." You reply with a chuckle. "Are you okay?" "I... I am okay." You sigh before looking away from the endless stars outside the express. "Are you sure?" Welt asked, eyes meeting yours that seems to bring comfort into you. "I... I'm just worried about my siblings. I had this feeling... I kept feeling off nowadays... I'm worried that something bad happened to them..." You said with a rather defeated sigh before once again looking back to the stars. "It makes me wonder if things would have been different if I came with them when they asked me too. They're not kids anymore, but still, having me with them might bring some difference, you know? If only I wasn't stubborn maybe I would know where they have gone to. If only..." "Hey, I'm sure they're alright. Okay? They're safe. We'll find them soom enough, okay?"

Imagine it was finally the time to say goodbye. With the trio and Welt sending you off, you smile at them before chuckling. "It was nice meeting you all." "Do you really have to go?" "Really March? Of course they have to go." "But do they really need to go?" Trailblazer pout causing you to laugh. "Yes kiddo, unfortunately I need to go, alone this time." Turning away from the trio. "I'll get going now. Please do send her my regards and apologies for parting without her on sight." "Alright. May you have a great journey ahead of you."

Imagine feeling your siblings closed by, although there was no visible planet on sight. You knew where they are. You've been there before after all, so who would have ever thought that that is where they have gone by. Why Teyvat of all world to choose from? That world is quite, complicated. Bounded by some unwanted rules and principles. And by the looks of it, given their scattered energy, your gut feeling was right to feel like something was off from the moment you lost contact with them.

Imagine with a little bit of regret but endless of good memories you have. You smile at them and bid your goodbye for the last time saying, "If chances permits I'd be happy to come aboard again." And then you disappeared. Only to appear as another falling star on the land of teyvat.

: Now I want to make a whole ass ff story about this. A genuine cross over but I barely played honkai and barely know about it's lore sjhfjsjshksjdhdjsk so yeah, did I fucked up or nah?

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mortuarywriting · 8 months

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Its 1am and I should sleep but that's not happening so I'm thinking about this thing I've been turning over in my head.

Anyway here's how your softness as a fat partner to the 141 + whoever comes to mind with as a bonus is a grounding force

The mission was supposed to be short and easy. Drop in the bucket compared to some of the others, but when does it ever go like the brief? They're a week over, now, and while no news was good news you'd kill for a text. An emoji would be fine, you'd settle for a garbled keyboard smash as proof of life.

Still, civilian life doesn't stop while your partner is out risking their lives so the populace doesn't see just how close some calls get to total destabilization. You had to work and that meant in the evening you had to unwind before you lost your shit. So here you were, sat on the couch and distracting yourself and decompressing.

The click of the key in the door perked you right up, you paused whatever you were doing to turn and watch the door open, "welcome home! How did-oh," your happiness was paused, replaced by concern by the haunted look in the eyes you love so much. This was a rough one, so you went back to past experience, "do you need space, a pillow, or a weighted blanket?"

Price would stay quiet as he put down his duffel and take off his boots. You were already thinking through contingency plans to get him out of his head if this didn't work, but he sits himself on the couch next to you instead of in the armchair. He about collapses into the plush material more than sits down, but the raised arm is an invitation and you're not one to ignore it. You snuggle in, head on his chest and your weight a comfortable softness where he's hard muscle and strength holding you close. The both of you sit there for some time, you listen as his heart rate mellows as his thumb traces idle patterns into your side. You know eventually you'll both wind up out back sitting in the rocking chairs you gave him shit about getting, but there's nothing like it. You'd take sitting and rocking side by side out there while he has a smoke any day of the week, it meant you had each other and what else do you really need?

Ghost would stand in the doorway for a beat longer than he usually would, and you weren't sure if he'd stay or not. Hell, wouldn't be the first time he arrived on your doorstep just to go back to base without crossing your threshold. It's a pleasant surprise when he walks in, though, and his duffel falls with a thump. Sometimes he needs to put himself away and sometimes he needs your presence. This time it's definitely the latter as he just crosses the room, boots and all, just... climbs onto the couch to lay on it, pinning you where you sit within his grasp and his face pressed to your stomach. You feel your face soften as you run a hand along his back, a soothing presence as he holds you close. You feel him squeeze softly at your sides, fat moving just so in his grip to confirm he's in the present, he's safe, and if you were ambitious you might even say he's home. At some point you'll prod him enough to get him to bed, you were well aware he was too big to sustainably sleep on the couch without hurting his neck or back. Tomorrow you'd heckle him for the boots on the furniture but for now you were glad he was back in your arms.

Gaz offers you a smile when he opens the door, but you know that fake 'trying to reassure you' smile when you see it. He goes through the same home routine but it's more muscle memory than anything- duffel in its spot, boots off and away, hat and keys on the little table- but you don't need to call to him for him to come to you. No, he's dragging himself to you, exhaustion written in his features but you know he won't let himself go to bed without at least checking in. You smile and pat your lap, the easy compromise that has him giving you a soft but sincere smile. He settles onto the couch, laying on his back with his head in your lap as he fights to keep his eyes open. You know he's likely jetlagged to hell, so you start talking- about what he's missed since he was gone, which shows you two need to catch up on, only the hottest neighborhood bird feeder gossip- and you watch as the tension eases from his shoulders. He doesn't need to be on high alert in a combat zone- he's home, he can relax safe and sound.

Soap wastes no time- duffel dropped, door kicked shut, boots pulled off and dropped as he crosses the room to you. You yelp as he scoops you off the couch enough to flop on his back and hold you to his front, burying his face in your neck as he let's his hands roam. You huff, amused more than annoyed at him man-handling you. Well, among other feelings, but those come later, for now you hum and wrap your arms around his shoulders where you can, hugging him close. Sometimes he needed the extra grounding force, too much energy buzzing below his skin and your rocksteady presence a balm. You're happy to do it, you love this man through thick and thin and there were worse things than mandatory cuddles.

Bonus:

+ Kate gives you a weary smile before she stops through the kitchen. You smile as she comes back with a drink for both of you, though you know yours will be touched significantly less as you rest your head in her lap and hear her out as she talks about what she can. She runs her free hand down your shoulder, tracing patterns down the side as she does.

+ Nikolai you know is a 50/50, either he needs to keep his hands busy doing something else or he'll take you up on your offer. The odds seem to be in your favor, though, as he sits with you. You aren't exactly suprised when he pulls you into his lap, or when he takes a few minutes to just sit and listen to your heartbeat and steady breathing. He'll be back and bantering before you know it but for now he holds you tight, waves of soft weight pulling him back to a safe harbor.

Aaaaand now it's 2:30 time is an illusion (oops)

#reader insert #fat reader #rambles from the morgue #It's too goddamn late for this #Brain lemme sleep #No dialogue 'cause I'm still figuring out their voices #They got shorter as I went because I'm a sleepy bitch sorry

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