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#black oversized t shirt women's
pgfabs · 9 months
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Make Your Own Custom Stickers With Our Easy-to-use Design Tool! Show the world your individuality with our Custom Design Sticker. It's bright and fun, with a punchy design for instant impact. And what's best, it's printed on demand in a renewable energy powered factory. Order today with next day delivery available.
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grabmany · 3 months
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nauticonfashionstore9 · 4 months
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Maxxine wears the Automet Women's Oversized Jacket in Black sold on Amazon ($49.99), Polyamide T-Shirt in Black from Zara ($15.90) and Low Rise Baggy Jeans in Astrid from Pacsun ($56.95)
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stubbornfactory · 8 months
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Men's Graphic Tees And Printed T-Shirts | Stubborn Factory
Charcoal grey round neck t-shirt made up of fine material
Soft and comfortable fabric ensures all-day comfort
Short sleeves provide a classic look and feel
Can be worn as a casual or dressy piece
Use a gentle detergent that won't damage the fabric
Colours may slightly vary depending on your screen brightness.
Actual product specifications may vary +/-5%
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sulfurart · 1 year
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Regular T-shirts come in different neck styles, including crewneck, V-neck, and scoop neck, providing options for individuals to choose based on their style preferences. They can be worn with jeans, shorts, skirts, or even paired with more formal attire to create a balanced, smart-casual look
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hushandwear · 1 year
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Good Times Relaxed T-Shirt
Material & Care: Composition: 100% Cotton GSM: 180 Country of production: India Wash care: Machine wash cold with similar colours | Only non-chlorine | Warm Iron. Estimated order processing time: 48hours - 72 Hours. Estimated Delivery time: 7-10 Days
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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood Next >>
John Price stood at a round table, leading the mission brief for the team’s upcoming operation. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz sat around the table in various positions. Soap with his boots kicked up onto the table, chair tilted back; Gaz leaned forward onto the table, his forearms on the surface; Ghost leaned back against his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Soap and Gaz wore their regulation tan t-shirts and camo pants, while Ghost was clad in a black long-sleeve and his standard skull balaclava.
“So if we’re stormin’ the building, we’re all accounted for,” Soap pointed out, clicking the pen between his fingers. “We need a sniper.”
“Called in a favor with a good friend, who should have been here–”
“Ten minutes ago,” a strong but mellow voice cut in as a figure turned through the doorway. “I know, sorry John. Got a bit caught up with my room assignment. Tried to put me on the other side of base.”
A woman came into view, offering her hand out to John. They firmly grasped each other’s forearms in a quick shake. Soap and Gaz both had only slightly surprised expressions. Not at the fact that their sniper was female; they’d worked with plenty of fierce women during their time in Task Force 141.
The fact that she did not look the part.
She wore a massively oversized black sweatshirt that brushed her thighs and dark blue skinny jeans, her hair loose down her back. Must’ve just got off a plane, Soap thought to himself, looking her up and down. Her stance showed her confidence, feet shoulder-width apart as she faced the team with a bright smile (one not often found in their field of work) and glowing skin. She wasn’t necessarily small, more average height, but her attire dwarfed her frame. 
“Thank you for joining us, Captain,” Price nodded at her. “This is Freyja. American Special Forces, sniper, undercover ops. She’s been briefed and will be joining us temporarily for the op. She comes highly recommended and outranks all of you, so I’d suggest you be on your best behavior.”
The woman jabbed Price with her elbow, rolling her eyes, much to Soap’s surprise. He barely suppressed the laugh that bubbled in his chest, unable to help the small choking laugh that escaped. Ghost glared at him and he quickly piped down.
“Thanks, John, but I think I’ll be fine. Glad to be of use.”
“Happy to have you. Let me know if you need anything while you’re here. I’ll leave you to it, get acquainted. We leave at 0400 hours. We’ll be infiltrating in daylight; prepare accordingly.”
“Aye, Captain,” Soap nodded once and saluted him, setting his chair back down as he rose. He watched John pat her shoulder on his way out, sharing what seemed like a knowing look, before finally departing to his quarters. Interesting.
Soap was the first to cross the room, taking her hand in a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Captain. Sergeant John Mactavish,” he introduced, shaking her hand. He noted her equally firm grip and the cool metal of a wedding band pressing into his palm. Her skin was calloused yet soft, not as rough as his own. 
“Soap, right? Heard a lot about you.”
“Aye. Good things I hope?"
“Mostly.”
A boisterous laugh left him, so loud you’d think the room shook. Soap heard Gaz gag on his water before breaking into a choked wheeze. The other man approached, shaking her hand as well. “Kyle Garrick, call me Gaz.”
Her hands found their way into the pockets of her sweatshirt.
“So, Freyja… like the–?”
A gentle, airy giggle floated into his ears. What a lovely sound. “Yes, like the goddess. I know, my husband’s idea.”
Soap groaned, his head lolling back in faux agony as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re breakin’ my heart, lass. Was hopin’ ya didn’t have one’a those. He in the service?”
“He is, but you wouldn’t know him. Keeps a pretty low profile,” she shrugged, keeping her eyes on the two men in front of her.
”D’ya think I could take him?”
”Probably not.”
Neither Soap nor Gaz noticed the way Ghost’s mask twitched slightly, evidence of the smirk that pulled at his lips. But she knew his microexpressions like the back of her hand, even out of the corner of her eye. The Scot remembered Ghost’s presence suddenly and waved his hand in his direction. He hadn’t made any move to greet the newcomer and hadn’t spoken during the entire brief.
“Steamin’ Jesus, Ghost, you heard the man. Be nice to the lady!”
Ghost grunted, keeping his arms folded on his chest. “Captain.”
“Lieutenant.”
The two stared at each other, her brow quirked. As the seconds passed, the interaction became increasingly awkward for everyone else in the room. Even the thickest person on the planet could have sensed the tension. Unable to take the silence any longer, Gaz stepped in to attempt to relieve some tension. “You two worked together before?”
“You could say that,” Ghost stated as he rose from his chair. “A word, Freyja?”
Her tongue poked at the inside of her cheek and she squinted at him. It was almost comical, the height difference between the two. Typically, Soap would have made a snarky quip, if not for the vicious look in her eyes. He wouldn’t say it out loud to him, but the scowl rivaled his lieutenant‘s. Finally, she spoke, “Excuse us, gentlemen. I’ll see you in the morning. You know where to find me in the meantime.”
“G’night, Cap,” Soap nodded and moved to the side, allowing her to pass to the door. Ghost didn’t spare them another glance as he followed behind her. The two men stood silently until they heard a door slam shut up the hall. Soap snapped his gaze to Gaz and found him already looking with wide eyes.
“What was that about?”
Soap shrugged noncommittally. “Not a clue. Bad history? Ghost’s no’ exactly skilled in manners.” He went to head to his room when he noticed a military-issue duffel where Freyja had been standing, an American flag patch on the side. He bent down and slung it over his shoulder. “Left her stuff. I’m gonna drop it by ‘for hittin’ the hay. See ya in the mornin’.”
They went their separate ways, Gaz disappearing to the armory to stock up for the mission. Soap approached the only spare room in their wing and rapped his knuckles against the door. He waited for a few beats to no response and repeated the motion.
Nothing.
Soap’s brows furrowed when he heard what sounded like a muffled argument from the next door up, labeled “Lt. Riley”. Soap should have just left her duffel in front of her door and continued on his way to his bedroom, and gone to bed.
But no, he just had to snoop.
He crept toward the door, still holding the bag as he pressed his ear to the hollow wood. They clearly knew each other, but Ghost hadn’t seemed happy to see her. He felt a bit guilty spying on his lieutenant, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He heard Ghost’s deep voice first.
“We had a deal. You’re supposed to be on leave, and Price knows that. I have half a mind to wring his fucking neck–”
“John didn’t ask me to be here, I volunteered–”
“Cut the shit, Y/N. I’m not daft. He has no place calling you in without asking me first.”
“I don’t take orders from you, Simon!”
Simon? Just how familiar were they with each other?
“Oh, I’m well aware. I just figured that when your husband asks you to stay home, you'd listen! How silly of me!”
So he knows her husband. Interesting. 
“That’s not fair, and you know it.”
“You want to talk about fair? You went around my back to my Captain. I’d say anything’s fair play at this point.” Heavy boots crossed the floor. “This isn’t just about you anymore. You’re not my superior, you’re–”
Soap shuffled his feet, he realized too late how loud the noise was in the empty hallway, and the voices suddenly stopped. He knocked in an attempt to recover, quickly stepping back from the door before it opened. The woman appeared, now in a too-big band tee, her dog tags resting on her chest. “Hi, Johnny,” she greeted, her tone significantly warmer than it had been a moment ago. 
He didn’t remember mentioning his preference for the name, but he couldn’t find a reason to comment on it then. “You, uh, left ya bag. Wanted to drop it off, figured you’d be here.”
“Oh, my bad. Thanks, I appreciate it.” He transferred her possessions to her. The bag that appeared standard when he carried it looked huge compared to her frame. The added weight did not phase her. “We have an early morning. I’m heading to bed.”
Ghost moved from his spot near the bed on the other side of the room. “Frey–”
She held a hand up, sending another chilling glare in his direction. Soap was impressed when Ghost didn’t even blink at the look. “Enough, Lieutenant. That’s an order.” He didn’t miss the eyes behind the skeleton glowering or how the fabric near his mouth shifted. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he growled through clenched teeth. 
She brushed by Soap, readjusting the bag on her shoulder as she stormed to her room, somehow gracefully maintaining her posture. Before he could turn back to question Ghost, the door swung shut in his face.
Real polite.
~*~
“Alpha-One, in position.”
“Copy that, one. Alpha-Two, in position.”
“Bravo?” Soap’s partner looked over his shoulder at the white light flashing at them in the distance. There was a muffled choking sound and a swallow, followed by a sniffle. “Freyja?”
“Sorry. Multiple armed guards. Two snipers at the east and west sides of the targets.” Her voice, while calm, sounded tired and a bit drained. As if she could sense the unspoken question, she came through their headsets again. “Little sick this morning. I’m fine.”
Ghost's jaw set and he rolled his shoulders, blinking a few times to focus. Soap noticed the motion and covered the mic on his headset. “You a’right, Lt.?” he asked, his voice concerned with his brows furrowed. 
Ghost ignored him. “Can you get a visual inside?”
“Negative. Windows are blocked in both buildings. You’re going blind.”
“What’s the call, ma’am?” Gaz’s voice.
“This is Price’s op. I’m just here for support.”
“Ghost?” Price this time. 
Ghost audibly sighed, his irritation at the situation clear. Soap wondered how bad their last encounter could have been for the usually collected man in front of him to be so disheveled. Soap looked over at the lieutenant, who had turned his attention back to the opening in the wall between them. “Bravo, hold your position. Understood?”
“Affirmative.”
“Alpha-One, move in on your target on my command.” Ghost clicked off his mic and slid the chamber back on his pistol, doing one final check.
Soap took the opportunity to follow up on his unanswered concern. “Ghost, you good? Seem tense. Something going on with the lass?”
“Shut up, Sergeant.” He reached up to click his headset back on. “Freyja cleared hot to engage.”
“Standby.” A beat passed, then another, until the suppressed shot of a sniper rifle rang through their headsets, followed by the bolt being pulled back and pushed forward. Another shot. “Clean hit. Snipers down.”
“Copy. Alpha-One, move in. Keep it quiet,” Ghost commanded, signaling Soap forward with a tilt of his head.
She watched Ghost and Soap move swiftly around structures and cars forward to their target. Her gaze periodically adjusted between them and Alpha-One, Gaz and Price. Soap’s accent was low in her ear. “Approaching target. Engaging two hostiles.”
The pair dispatched the guards with ease, the same as the other team up the road.
“Be advised, I have no eyes inside,” she reminded the group, surveying the surrounding area as both teams entered the building.
“Roger. Breaching.”
On their frequency, angry shouts and gunfire had her writing uncomfortably in her spot. She didn’t like not having a solid visual of her team; it made her feel helpless. The audio of the scene inside wasn’t helping her nerves (or nausea) much, either. The sniper was almost lost in her thoughts when she caught movement at the edge of her scope up the street.
Reinforcements.
“Ghost, engaging incoming hostiles. You might want to bug out,” she suggested, taking several shots at the armed men back-to-back. “Alpha-One, sound off.”
“Heard. Intel acquired,” Price acknowledged. “Clearing out.”
“Alpha-Two, how copy?”
The radio crackled once before Soap came through. “Copy, I’ve lost visual on Ghost. Got separated in the firefight,” he grunted, still firing shots inside the building. “‘M gonna have to squirt.”
Something wasn’t right. “Ghost, how copy?”
Silence.
“Lieutenant, what’s your status?”
Her skin crawled at the repeated silence. “Fuck.” She took a deep breath and pulled her knees underneath her body, her stomach suddenly stilling, nausea disappearing. “Abandoning post.” Her voice pierced through their radios with urgency. She abandoned her rifle and made her way down from her perch.
“Absolutely not. We’re converging at the meeting point now.” Price cursed under his breath as she brandished her sidearm and sprinted towards Ghost’s last location. “Stand down, Bravo, that’s an order!” The captain commanded, rough and authoritative.
“All due respect, Price, get bent.”
Price and Gaz watched helplessly as she disappeared into the structure, Soap approaching them from their flank. “The absolute balls on that one, aye?” he snickered, eyeballing Price. He didn’t even flinch, expression hard as steel as he rubbed his face. He hadn’t seen his captain that stressed in quite a while. Maybe not the time for jokes…
The blood-curdling screams Soap heard would scare any man straight. It sounded like a horror movie slaughterhouse over their comms, whether it was caused by Ghost or Freyja he didn’t know. He did know it was her voice that said Ghost’s name and assumed the distant, heated mumbling was Ghost. He must have lost his headset if they couldn’t hear him clearly, and what they were hearing was whatever her comms picked up. “Shut the fuck up and move. If you were fine, I wouldn’t be here, Lieutenant. You can thank me later,” she snapped, sounding eerily similar to a stereotypical angry wife. There’s no way she cleared out that entire convoy on her own…
Right?
Moments later, without any other gunfire, the pair emerged. Ghost was indeed missing his headset, while Freyja trudged in front of him, taking long steps to cross the street. Her helmet was gone, and her hair had come loose. Gun in one hand, a familiar black combat knife in the other, dripping blood. Strands of hair clung to her face, coated in dark red, along with her hands, bare arms, and vest. Soap’s eyes blew wide. “Steamin’ bloody Jesus, did she–?”
Price hummed and nodded beside him. In the same breath, she stumbled over to a car and gripped the door handle, dumping her stomach on the dusty road. Soap and Gaz moved to help, but Price stopped them with a single grunt. Ghost was immediately on her, expertly sweeping her hair into one hand as he pulled her earpiece out, cutting off their audio. One of her hands grabbed his vest for support while his other hand rested on her back.
“Well, that’s unusual,” Soap chimed, his head cocked to the side as he watched the display.
“Quit starin’ and load up. I doubt that’s the last of those reinforcements.” Price waved at them, catching Ghost’s attention and pointing to an approaching Heli, waving his hand in a “roll out” motion.
~*~
The ride back to base in the heli was one of the most awkward experiences of Soap’s life; not a word was spoken during the short trip. Ghost pulled a rag out of his vest and silently handed it to Freyja to wipe some blood from her face; she passed him the blade she had carried, and he finally placed its familiarity when Ghost tucked it into the empty holster at his hip. She looked utterly drained now that they were in close quarters. In another shocking moment, she rested her head on Ghost’s shoulder, and he didn’t move to shove her off.
What the fuck?
At the base, Ghost dropped her off at the medical bay before storming into the meeting room where the team had gathered to debrief. “You’re a dead man, Price,” he barked, finger jabbed at him as his skull plate skittered across the table when he threw it. “You fuckin’ knew–”
“Simon, I’m sorry–”
“Don’t “Simon” me. Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Captain! If she’s hurt–”
“I didn’t think she would compromise herself that easily.”
Ghost barked a dry, humorless laugh as he pointed in the general direction of the infirmary. “Of course, she’s bloody compromised! She’s my fuckin’ wife, you git!” he snarled, teeth viciously bared as he ripped off his mask.
“Hell’s fuckin’ bells…”
“Bloody hell…”
He was too angry (and, frankly, scared for his wife’s health) to acknowledge their audience. “This is exactly why I told you not to call her. I can’t focus if I’m worried about her safety right now. She’s supposed to be safe at home, resting, not running into a bloody warzone, for God’s sake!” 
“She was told not to leave her post–”
“When has she ever obeyed a direct order?”
Silence fell over the group, Price effectively losing the argument. Neither Sergeant wanted to find themselves on the other end of Ghost’s rage. They had no envy for Price and dared not get between them. No envy at all. On the other hand, Soap had so many questions. Since where was Ghost married? When did he have the time for a wife? And an American at that? How long had he been keeping her a secret?
“Simon.”
Four heads whipped to the soft voice across the room, finding the woman of the hour standing in the doorway. A superficial cut on her forehead had been taped up, her face clear of blood. Soap and Gaz stared at her in disbelief, jaws dropped as they looked from her to Ghost and back again. She chuckled at their expressions but didn’t move to approach them. “Captain Riley. Lovely to meet you both, officially,” she reintroduced herself, a slight smirk on her lips. She finally met her husband’s gaze, her expression softened at his bare face, save for the black paint.
He curled two fingers at her, one arm crossed over his chest. “C’mere. Now,” he ordered her, though his tone had little bite to it.
Even only knowing the sniper for such little time, Soap was outright shocked at the display. Flabbergasted by her obedience when she immediately strode to the spot next to him, barely leaving any space between their chests. It didn’t seem like her. He was obviously wrong, considering what he’d just witnessed. 
Ghost took a deep breath as he peered down at her, examining her visible skin for injuries. “I’m right pissed at you, love,” he muttered, allowing her to loop a finger in his belt loop.
She smiled up at him, her admiration clear now that the sergeants had been let in on the secret. “I know.”
“Don’t give me that look.” The man sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn’t hold his ground with that smile of hers. He dropped a gloved hand to rest on her lower belly, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You alright?”
She placed her hand on top of his and bobbed her head. Her familiar glow from the night before had returned.
“I’d like an apology.”
“And I’d like a parade in my honor. Oh, and a good ol’ fashioned fu–”
“Oi, better watch that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”
“You love my mouth.”
“Tha’ I do. Just not right now, sweetheart.”
Soap couldn’t take it anymore. “Steamin’ blood Jesus L.t., are you…flirting?”
“Shamelessly,” she giggled, never once tearing her eyes away from the man towering over her.
Ghost rolled his eyes again, his other hand slipping into its home on the side of her neck. “You’re done. I mean it. And if you call her again, I walk,” he threatened, turning his head to address Price directly. “Don’t think I won’t.”
“Ghost, she held her own just fine,” Soap interjected from his chair. “Hen took out an entire squad practically single-handedly, plus the convoy before she went in after ya. I don’t see the problem.”
Realization dawned on Gaz suddenly, forcing him to his feet again. “You’re pregnant,” he exclaimed, both in shock and awe. “That’s why you were feeling sick. And the big clothes. You’re on maternity leave."
The lack of response from John and Freyja and how Ghost studied Gaz said everything they needed to know.
“No wonder you’ve been downright crabbit with her! Can’t say I blame ye, ‘s too dangerous out there to be mucking about with a little one in there.” Soap rose to his feet too, smiling like a cheeseball, ready to ruthlessly tease him. “How’d you manage that, Ghost? A bangin’ wife and a baby?”
“I know it’s been a while for you, Sarge–”
“Aw, away n’ bile yer heid!” the Scot barked, dismissing his lieutenant with a wave.
“English, MacTavish.”
“Sorry, sir, let me translate…Go fuck yourself.”
“Much better.”
He moved on from Ghost, addressing Freyja now. “I’ve so many questions! How long ‘ave you been together?” Soap leaned against the round table in front of them, his hands dragging across the shaved portion of his head.
“How old am I?” Ghost asked in a low, teasing timber.
Her upper lip tugged upwards as her hand wavered, indicating an estimate. “Five years, give or take.”
“Five years?! Son of the god-damn-devil, Lt! You’ve had a secret wife for five years–” He cut himself off with a gasp, his volume dropping to a brash whisper. “Does he take the mask off when you—”
“Tha’ll do, Johnny.”
Her bubbly laugh filled the room, and she swatted his tactical vest with her palm. “Si, don’t be an ass,” she warned, raising a brow at him. “Oh, John! I have pictures for you!” The woman let go of her husband and dug out folded ultrasound photos from her zipped pocket. She, Price, and Gaz moved to another corner of the room, gushing over the snapshots of her latest appointment before flying out, leaving Soap and Ghost alone by the meeting table.
A mischievous grin overtook Soap’s face. “An American, eh, Lt.? And she outranks you?”
“Not another word, Sergeant.”
A long pause stretched between them, although not long enough for Ghost’s liking.
“So… Goddess of love, beauty, and war,” he inquired, raising an eyebrow at the Brit, who threw him a questioning side-eye. Soap hummed. “Fitting.”
Soap almost gawked at the smirk (borderline smile) that Ghost bore as he watched his wife animatedly pour over her photos. “I’m well aware.” Another moment passed between them before Ghost fully turned to the other man. “Johnny?”
“Yeah, Ghost?"
“Flirt with my wife again, I’ll knock your teeth in."
"Noted, sir."
Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.
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zombiefiilm · 9 months
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Next to You
spencer reid x fem!reader
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summary: sharing a room with the person in the bau that hates you the most makes you go through more emotions than you thought possible
warnings: kind of enemies to lovers, arguing, crying, no use of y/n, smut, nsfw - 18+ only, apology sex, soft sex, fem oral, protected p in v, praise, typical criminal minds death and unsub mentions
word count: 2.7k
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Last minute cases in desolate towns in the midwest often meant that there was nowhere for the team to stay. It wasn't uncommon for you to have to pair or group up with other team members in dodgy motel rooms.
The most recent investigation had brought you all to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska, a long day ending with a drive to an motel that housed 7 rooms in total.
You, Reid and Rossi were the last to arrive so when Prentiss handed you a room key and told you that you would be sharing with Reid, it was already too late to complain.
"It's for your own good" she she grinned, picking her go-bag off the floor beside her.
"I hate you" you sighed.
"Sure you do" she was already walking off. You've been face to face with serial killers regularly, and this was just surviving a few nights in the same room as Spencer Reid, you could do this.
You walked back outside to find Reid standing in the dark by the car, right hand in this pocket and his left leaning against the black SUV.
"Looks like you're with me, Reid" you announced and the way that his face instantly dropped almost knocked you over. It was almost like you'd told him you were about to kill him.
"Come on" you began walking down to room 4, Spencer following shortly behind as you unlocked the door.
Being met with just one double bed though was enough to bring tears to your eyes. The couch looked like it had been through the war and there was no way on earth you were even touching it. And the sigh that Spencer let out made you want to rip your own hair out.
"I'm gonna sleep in the car" you quickly turned around to walk out of the door.
"You're not sleeping outside with a killer targeting women the exact same age as you on the loose" he stopped you in your tracks. He was right. "I can take the couch".
You were a little surprised at the chivalry but thankful none the less. "Are you sure?"
He didn't answer, instead dropping himself onto the couch.
Feeling content with his actions, you dropped your own bag on the floor beside the bed and told him you were going to use the bathroom before cleaning yourself up and changing into the oversized t-shirt you were using as pyjamas.
Coming out of the bathroom again, you were going to tell Reid that he was free to use the bathroom now but he simply glared at you.
It was as if he wanted to make your life hell. He always scowled at you, made snarky comments on little details about you, gloated whenever you got anything wrong. He always drove you up the walls, since you first started at the BAU, and you never knew why.
It's not like you had done anything to him, from what you knew at least. You smiled and shook his hand when you met him and even thought he was cute, you treated him just like you did with everyone else on the team, but you quickly noticed how differently he treated you.
You gave him plenty of time to warm up to you before you let yourself develop any solid opinions on him. You were warned about how he took to knew people, and you were understanding at first. But after you were several months in, and now years, and he still treated you like an outsider, you were no longer shy to expressing your dislike for him.
Other people on the team noticed it too, you, JJ, Garcia and Emily often discussing it with each other, but if one of them ever mentioned Spencer's attitude to himself, he'd deny everything and brush it off.
You really tried to not let it get to you, especially with the support from others, But man, did it upset you.
Spencer eventually got himself ready in the bathroom and came back out, silently setting himself up on the couch as you sat in the bed and did some research. There was a nice silence for a while, and then:
"Could you stop turning the pages so loud" he sounded irritated already and you hadn't even spoken to each other in the past 30 minutes.
"What?" you matched his tone, was he really trying to start a fight with you right now?
"I can't even think with how much noise you're making"
"I'm not making any noise, Reid, what's wrong with you?"
"You're flicking the pages, I can't pay attention to anything else"
"Oh so the sound of paper is able to stop boy genius in his tracks?" you mocked, pissed off at what he was choosing to do do.
He glared at you in response, he looked like he was about to blow a fuse.
"I don't know how to help you here, Reid, I'm trying to work on the case"
"Yeah, trying, it's not like you've ever actually done anything important for one" his voice had raised slightly.
"What?"
"You're practically incompetent, how you got recruited to the bureau, I'll never know" you hadn't even noticed him standing up, but it suddenly made you feel uncomfortable so you got out of the bed too, standing on the opposite side of the room.
"Excuse me?" you were completely shocked now, how had he gotten so far.
"You heard me. You have no place on this team. All you do is mess things up, you can't figure anything out and then you go and let our unsubs go"
Oh
You knew exactly what he was talking about. During one of your first cases, you had unintentionally informed an unsub that the FBI were searching for him during an interview with his wife and he got away. He was dangerous and you had never forgiven yourself for the people who had died before he was finally caught.
You just broke down in tears after that. It felt like he'd re-opened the wound right there and then.
"Fuck you" you spat through tears. You couldn't even look at him now, turning your back to him to sit on the bed.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry" it was like he had suddenly snapped out of the unexplained rage he was just experiencing.
You felt the bed dip as he sat down behind you, and then a hand rest on your shoulder.
You were edging on losing the ability to breathe. It wasn't even just remembering the worst experience you had on the job, it was the fact that Spencer had used it against you just to get a reaction out of you. You wouldn't have even expected that from him.
He just sat behind you as you attempted to regain some sense of composure, not saying anything else. Was he finally feeling some sense of remorse for how horribly he had been treating you?
Once he noticed that your breathing had slowed, he called out your last name, your work name. It felt so impersonal in that moment. Not that you'd ever been on a first name basis with him, but you gave no reaction to him.
He tried again, squeezing your shoulder this time. You gave him nothing.
But then he whispered your name. Your first name. It was quiet, apologetic.. desperate.
You sniffled, wiping the tears from under your eyes before you turned around to look at him. He was sitting right behind you in the bed now, his big brown eyes practically burning a hole in your head. You knew you probably looked like a mess now, face red and wet, eyes puffy, and hair mangled.
"God, I'm sorry" his hand reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek "I'm such an idiot, I can't believe I said that".
You flinched at his touch, not saying anything back to him.
"If I could take that back I would, I did not mean it. It was just in the moment" he tried to hold your face in his hand but you avoided his touch.
"In the moment?" you repeated "What even was that moment. It's like you wanted to have an argument with me for fun".
"I don't want to argue with you, I just.."
"You just hate me" you finished.
"No! I don't hate you, I'm just stupid and don't know how to deal with how I feel about you"
You looked directly into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. "How you feel about me?"
You managed to catch his gaze as it briefly flicked down to your lips. It felt like something was drawing you closer as you moved towards him.
"Please, let me make it up to you".
"No. Are you saying you've treated me like this because you can't figure out what to do about your feelings for me? What are you? Twelve? You've made my life miserable."
The tears spilled out again, what was he even saying?
"Please, just let me show you how sorry I am"
His voice was laced in what could only be described as desperation, it was making you want to hear him out, forgive him, and you didn't quite know why.
"Please" his voice was on the verge of breaking.
Your walls were crumbling down, it was like he'd cast a spell on you
"please"
You only nodded, allowing him to to lean in closer to you, finally cupping your head in his hands and softly pressing his lips against yours.
It was like he was purposefully avoiding any roughness as he gently kissed, from your lips down your jaw and then down your neck. He looked at you then, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question. And you nodded.
He loosely grabbed the hem of your shirt, and you let him lift it up over your head.
He didn't touch you yet, kissing your lips again as he began to slide your underwear down. You manoeuvred enough for him to take them off you completely. He was so gentle that you didn't even think of feeling self-conscious being completely undressed in front of him.
He urged you to spread your legs and quickly laid down on his stomach in between them.
You barely had time to blink before his lips were on you, kissing up the inside of your thigh. as his hands wrapped around you, holding you down.
Then, he was softly licking up your cunt, softly moaning to himself as he tasted you. He avoided your clit, dragging his tongue everywhere except where you needed him most.
"Spence" the nickname drove him crazy, he finally felt like maybe you could be his.
He finally flicked his tongue over your clit and you couldn't help but push your hips against his face, a whine slipping from your lips.
He only egged you on, using your legs to pull closer to his mouth. He kept circling your clit, increasing the amount of pressure he used as your squirmed under him.
Every few moments, he'd bring his tongue down again, dipping into your hole gently, gathering your slick, before suckling at your clit again.
Slurs of his name, swears and a few 'oh my gods' were the only coherent sounds that could leave your mouth. He had gotten you incredibly sensitive and you felt like you could tip over the edge at any moment.
Spencer himself couldn't stop himself from moaning at your taste, your sounds, how your skin felt under his hands. The vibrations pushing you further.
He suddenly sucked a bit harsher, almost nipping your clit before going back to his previously gentle movements.
The contrast between the rare harsher movements and his gentle attention had you bucking into his face, only to be stopped by his hands pushing you down.
All of a sudden, you felt your release. You moaned much to loud as you writhed under Spencer's mouth, him carrying you through your orgasm.
Just as you felt yourself come down, you went to pull yourself away from Spencer, but he refused to let you, keeping you pinned down to the bed as he let himself taste your release.
"Spencer, please" you were so incredibly sensitive at this point, your body jolting at every small movement. You had to bite the side of your hand to stop yourself from yelling out from the pleasure.
He suddenly pulled off of you with a soft *pop* ad sat up, quickly kicking his trousers and boxers off as you reached forward and loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.
Now that he too was undressed, you felt more equal, it was almost metaphorical as if he was agreeing to end the weird tension between the both of you.
He sat between your legs again, lifting your legs around his hips. You hadn't noticed the condom he had taken out from his pocket until you heard the crinkle of the foil as he opened it.
He quickly rolled it down his shaft as you finally got the chance to look at him. You felt yourself clench in anticipation.
He finally lined himself up and you were subconsciously pushing your hips down towards him.
"Please, Reid" you practically begged as he leaned forward but he stopped at your words.
You looked into his eyes, pleading for him to fill you up, but he didn't.
"Spencer" you whined, and he quickly rutted his hips into you.
"Thats it, good girl" he praised as the air was knocked from your lungs.
He started slow, using one hand to prop himself up and the other to finally caress your skin. It was like he was trying to memorise the curves of your body with one hand. He grabbed at your hips, held your waist, squeezed your breasts, as he slowly picked up his pace.
He couldn't get enough of feeling your body as he pinched your nipple, marvelling at the way it hardened further.
"God, you're so beautiful" his hand finally fell down to your clit, rubbing small circles in time with his thrusts.
You couldn't even get a single word out at this point, too tired and desperate to say anything.
"I'm so sorry baby" if he didn't have your attention before, the name had definitely gotten it now. "I'll be so good for you from now on" you could tell he was close from the waver in his voice, but you too felt your 2nd release approaching.
"You're so perfect" his rambling was interrupted by groans, "never want to leave your side ever again" his thrusts had last there rhythm as he circled your clit quicker, desperate to get you to cum before him.
It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap, vision blurring as he continued his thrusts. Not much after, he plunged into you one last time. You could feel him coming inside as he filled up the condom, his chest now flush against yours.
You both laid there for a few moments, enjoying the hot, sticky embrace as you caught your breathe.
Silently, Spencer pulled out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling his boxers on. He then got you cleaned up, helping you put on your own underwear afterwards, before you got into the bed.
He tried to walk over to the couch but you were not letting that happen. “Get in here Reid" you muttered, laughing quietly as he practically jumped in beside you.
As he faced you in the bed, he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry, about everything" he kissed you once more, it would take more time for you to forgive him, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms.
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summerlovingbaby · 2 months
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free show
Eddie Munson was the only dealer in the shithole that most people callled Hawkins. Most people thought it was perfect. Y/N knew better than to call it perfect. It was a shit hole filled with perfect little families, hidden behind white picket fences and the girls wore mary jane shoes and ankle length skirts. And unless you fit into Hawkins idea of perfection than you were shit.
Y/N lived in a trailer halfway across town and mostly ate gas station food. She hated Mary Jane shoes, preferred drumsets and  to books, and even though she mircaosuly graduated with all A’s she refused to go to college. She also liked smoking weed and writing music, and though Hawkins had alot of dealers, most of them were awful. Awful old men who seemed less interested in selling her good quality bud and more interested in copping a feel, so that left Eddie Munson.
All things considered it was convinet, he lived a couple trailers down and usually had good deals if you were nice. All you had to do was leave a note on his trailer if he wasn’t home and he would drop by, though he was usually home unless it was a school day. He had been her main dealer for the better part of 4 months, so they were now on a first name basis, Eddie even accepted IOU’s on 3 occasions when she was short on cash.
Y/N got home from a grueling shift at the dinner wanting to wind down, the Carvers spent their whole breakfast loudly insulting her, and their son Jason was a particular piece of work. First they didn’t like her hair, it was dyed a raven black with strands of white in the front. Then her outfit was much to revealing. Her mini skirt and lace stockings and platform shoes with a t-shirt and apron, which was completely in dresscode. Then her makeup was just too much, even though she was only wearing eyeliner.
She wanted nothing more than to come home, smoke, then crash until her show, but her shift left her much too wired to do anything, so she left a note on Eddie’s trailer, hoping he would be back before she had to leave for her show. Took off her skirt and put on some spandex shorts she stole from the mall, stepped out of her platform shoes and slipped on black knee high socks. She changed out of her uniform shirt into a oversized black Metalicka shirt that stopped mid-thigh and grabbed her drumsticks, and twidlded with them until she heard Eddie call for her.
She threw the sticks on the ground and skipped to the door to see Eddie leaning on the door frame.
Eddie thought Y/N was pretty, not in the typically Hawkins pretty, pretty like a moonless sky, or pretty like a crumbled-up map. Hawkins pretty girls wore too much makeup and dressed too much like grown women for Eddie’s taste. Y/N only wore alot of eyeliner, and skirts that were short. And Eddie had a thing for lace. Thats probably why Eddie’s eys drifted directly to her legs, covered with a nearly sheer black lace.
“ How much do you want?” he asked.
Y/N opened the door wide, letting him walk in.
“ How much you got?” she asked, picking up the abandoned drumsticks that she left on the floor.
Eddie realized this was the first time that he been in her house, they always did deals at the door, but for some reason she let him in today, and all he could think about was if she was wearing anything but those lacy stockings underneath that oversized shirt.
“ That bad,” he asked. His eyes drifted to the drumset in the corner. “ You have roommates?”
She followed his eyeline, “ Those are mine if you’re asking?” she said. Most people didn’t believe her when she said she was musically inclined. Her parents didn’t have a penny to spare but made sure she took piano lessons. And a guitar looked kind of like a piano if you turned it sideways and once you learned guitar it didn’t take much to learn the drums.
“ I got 3 oz,” he said, pulling a ziplock bag out of his pocket, “ but if you really want to party I have Special K,” he said, tossing the bag on the bed.
“ How much?” she asked.
“ $40,” he replied.
“ You’re lucky I like you,” she said, bending over to her bottom drawer, where she pulled out a wad of crumpled cash, and unfolded it, making one attempt to count it, before dumping it out on the bedspread, and counting it, mumbling numbers under her breath, “ you are robbing me blind, Munson,” she said.
“ I could give you a deal,” he spoke.
She lifted one brow, “ Oh really,” she said, she had been offered this type of deal before. Old men who preferred blow jobs to cash, she didn’t think Eddie was  the type, but then again he was looking at her legs with wide eyes.
“ Play me something and I’ll give it to you half off,” he shrugged.
She nodded, and motioned to both instruments, “ Dealers choice,” she said.
He motioned to the drums, so she reached across her bed for some drumsticks, then walked to the set and sat down slowly on the little wooden stools. People had asked her to play before, and usually, it didn’t take alot to impress people. Bang around a few times, even use the petal, hell she could improvise a whole song, lie about it and most people would be impressed, but for some reason she really wanted to impress Eddie.
She played a simple but quick beat, Eddie nodded along, and before he knew it the she stopped playing with a final thud on the cymbals. Eddie snapped out of his daze, and tossed the bag on her bed, using his free hands to covertly cover his crotch, because now he had a growing obvious and embarrassing boner. All it took was the pretiesr girl in Hawkins to bang around on the drums for a little bit and he had a boner.
Eddie had his fair share of hookups, had too many bad dates to count, but now all he could think about was if Y/N would be another girl in a long string of bad dates or if she would be the diamond in the rough. If the prettiest girl in Hawkins would give him a chance.
“ Well you know what, I’ll give you the 4 oz for free for being such a loyal customer,” he said backing out of the room.
“ Eddie,” she said slowly standing. “ You’re being weird, why are you being weird?”
“ I’m not,” he said stumbling backwards over a plastic plant. “ I just-”
“ Have a boner,” she said, staring at his crotch. She assumed it was larger than averge, no man strut around like that if it wasn’t bigger than most men, but larger than average was an understatement. The bulge in his jeans made it clear that small was no metric that could be used to describe him.
He watched her stare, and realized that she was just as encapsulated with him as he was at her. He smiled at the thought of her getting all hot and bothered with the idea of him, she not so subtly crossed her legs.
“ You’re starring princess,” he smiled.
The nickname seemed to spark something in her because she walked past the drum set, sat on her bed and opened her legs. “ Why don’t you come over here and do something about it?” 
Eddie didn’t have to be  told twice, he pushed himself to a standing position, and crossed to her bed in one large step. He grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her into a kiss. You would think, with all the time he spent thinking about her lips he would be more prepared for what they felt like, but he had no idea. He pulled away because the intensity of the kiss was all too consuming, but Y/N looked up at him and and batted her eyelashes, and he couldn’t help but do it agin.
He jammed his knee in between her legs and felt her grind down on friction. Her hands reached for his studded belt, but she missed by a few inches, and grabbed his erection through his pants. He groaned loudy, and she smiled, pulling away so she could see, and he couldn’t help but watch.
Her small delicate hands undid the harsh studded black belt and pulled it lose. Her dainty red fingertips pulling his button loose, and slowly pulling down his zipper. Before he knew it he was flat on his back, as Y/N had flipped him over, and was pulling his pants down by the loops, leaving him in his plaid boxers. He only had a moment to be embarrassed, before Y/N palmed him through the thin cotton. He groaned loudly, and rose to rest on his elbows and watch.
Y/N didn’t know if she could wait any longer, so she jerked his boxers off and stared at it with wide eyes. “ Jesus christ, Eddie,” she said.
He had a sinking gut feeling, “ What? We can stop?”
“ Eddie, it’s fucking huge. You walk around like this all day?” she said, she was honestly perplexed. She had seen her fair share of dicks, some smaller, others larger. But never this large, and she had never found herself intimidated at the sight of one.
“ Only for you honey,” he whispered, biting her lips.
She gleamed at the nickname and grabbed his dick, globbed a large spit on the tip and stroked it slowly. 
“ You’re gonna kill me princess,” he said, as she stroked faster, before taking the head in her mouth and sucking harshly.
It had been a long time since he got a blowjob so he unintentionally bucked into her mouth. “ Sorry, “ he whispered, “ Sorry, you feel good, damn.” he groaned.
She pulled off, “ it’s okay, just take a breath before you have a stroke,” she said, bending over again, and taking all of him in her mouth.
He groaned and unintentionally bucked as she sucked him down to the base, and fondled his balls with her hands, he lasted only 2 more minutes before he forced her away with a light handed tug on either sides of her face. 
“ Keep that up and I’ll finish before we get started princess,” he mumbled. He watched Y/N react to the nickname, so rose to his elbows again and cocked his head to the side, and smiled. “ You like when I call you princess?” he asked, “ you want to be my princess?” he asked as Y/N rose to straddle him, nodding rapidly.
She wanted to be his in every way, she wanted to be his biblically, in a way that is concerning to god. He grabbed her hips under her shirt, “ You want me to treat you like a princess?” he asked. “ You want me to treat you like a lady?” he asked. 
His hands squeezed her sides gently, and in one swift motion she was flat on her back. “ Some lady,” she whispered.
“ My lady,” he whispered.
She keened at the idea, his lady, his girl, Eddie Munsons girl.
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pgfabs · 9 months
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grabmany · 3 months
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best blue oversized plain tshirt from grabmany
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eddiethebanished · 3 months
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It’s Only Fair
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leadsinger!reader
Summary- Eddie’s working as a bouncer at The Hideout on ladies night, watches your band play.
Warnings- I’m not really sure if there are any? Please let me know if there are so I can learn.
Eddie had never seen so many women, especially at The Hideout of all places. By the time he got to work there was a line wrapped around the building.
He had been working at The Hideout as a bouncer for a few weeks, in exchange his band would be able to play more gigs at a reduced fee. But he had yet to work a Wednesday night,
which as it turns out was ladies night. Reduced price on drinks and girl bands gracing the stage.
With a groan Eddie pushed open the door to let the ladies in at 7pm sharp. A few had already been getting rowdy, banging on the door begging for early entry. From then on it was the same monotonous movements. Check ID, take the cover charge, nod his head toward the door signaling admission. Ignoring the giggles and flirtatious batting of eyelashes from some of the patrons, Eddie could tell by the sea of bright neon color dresses he most likely wouldn’t be hearing his preferred type of music tonight.
“Harrington?” Eddie asked, surprised to see the shaggy brown haired boy standing in front of him. “What are you doing here?”
Steve scoffed. “It’s ladies night, Munson. Plus, Robins band is playing tonight and their singer is like a total babe.”
Eddie chuckled and patted steve on the shoulder as he walked through the door. After what felt like eternity of checking IDs, taking the cover charge, and nodding his head towards the entrance, the line ended, save for a few stragglers here and there.
The first band took the stage with big teased hair full of aqua net, they wore matching jazzercise outfits and played the most headache inducing pop music that would even have Cyndi Lauper nauseous. Eddie made his way to the bar in hopes David the bartender could make him something to ease the pain of the night.
“Want your regular, Ed?” David asked while wiping down the bar.
“Sure, better make it a double” he said over the sound of the bands pitchy singer.
“Never worked a ladies night before huh?” Eddie shook his head, David continued “It’s not that bad, sure the music isn’t great but there’s rarely any fights to break up, and I make a killing in tips!” Eddie nodded and slid a five over to David before he was called into a sea of girls ordering shots and half priced cocktails. Eddie took up residence at a table near the door where a bold Steve Harrington was striking out with every girl he flirted with.
The second band who took the stage was just fine, the third band came on late, drunk, and ended with the bassist barfing on the drummers cymbals. After a brief intermission to clean the stage, the lights dimmed. People scrambled from their barstools and dark corners to the middle of the room. Shouts and whoops erupted as the band took the stage.
“This is Robin’s band.” Steve said sitting up in his seat and nudging Eddie. One by one the band members stepped up on stage, Robin with her drumsticks gave a silly wave towards Eddie and Steve, the latter of which shouted out a “Woo!” The bassist arrived next blowing a kiss towards the audience, followed by the guitarist. They each had their own unique style that worked together, it showed cohesiveness without needing matching jazzercise outfits.
When the lead singer got on stage the crowd went wild, eddies eyes widened. Black oversized t-shirt with black shorts you could barely see, fishnets and doc martens. Eddie shifted in his seat to get a better look.
“That’s y/n.” Steve said looking at Eddie with a knowing smirk.
“Alright Hawkins how are we doing tonight?!” You said into the microphone. The crowd responded with cheers and applause as you started your first song. It was a cover of “Love Will Tear Us Apart” by Joy Division. By the end of the first chorus Eddie was enamored.
When the song ended, you grabbed your placid blue fender strat and slipped the strap over your head. Eddie wasn’t enamored- he was in love.
“Watch it, Munson. You’re drooling.” Steve said.
“Shut up, Harrington.” He said flatly.
“This one-” you started while plucking a few strings, “is dedicated to all the shitty guys in Hawkins that broke our hearts!” Jumping into an original song about dancing with the devil and having your girlhood stolen, Eddie realized why all these people were at this shitty bar. They were here to see you.
When your set ended, Steve nodded his head to go over to the stage with him. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to your future wife.” He added a wink and chuckled to himself. Eddie downed the rest of his drink and followed after Steve.
“Hey look, Steve, you really don’t need to-“ He was cut off.
“Oh come on, have some fun.” Steve said walking through the crowd.
“Hey guys!” Robin beamed “What did you think of our set? We’ve been rehearsing like crazy and I really think it paid off!” Robin rambled clutching her drumsticks.
“It was great, Robin-“ Steve began, he put his arm on her shoulder and said in a lower tone “where’s y/n? I think our boy Eddie here might want to meet her.” He grinned.
“Oh! She’s putting her stuff in the van, I’ll go get her!” Before Eddie could object, Robin bounced out of the propped open side door where he could see the band members putting equipment in the trunk. Robin returned shortly arm in arm with the lead singer, the girl of Eddie’s dreams.
“Steve, you know y/n.” Robin said, a grin plastered to her face. Steve nodded his head toward you. “This is our friend Eddie.” Robin said with a gentle push on your back towards where Eddie was standing.
“Hi.” Eddie said, with his signature smile, a little dimple forming on his cheek.
“Hey, I know you, you work here right?” You responded after taking a sip from your water. Eddie opened his mouth to respond when-
“Yeah Eddie is the bouncer, he’s also in this band that plays here Tuesday nights.” Robin answered for Eddie.
“Here, Robin I’ll help you with your drums okay?” Steve said raising his eyebrows and nodding his head towards Eddie. As they walked away Steve turned back and gave Eddie a thumbs up.
“What kind of music do you play?” You asked stepping closer to the curly haired boy.
“Uhh Metal, mostly. I’m also frontman and play guitar.” He responded nervously, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. You rocked back and forth on your heels and looked up into his dark brown eyes.
“I’ll have to come check you guys out, it’s only fair after you seeing us play.”
“Fair- right I have to warn you though, it’s nothing like tonight,” Eddie started looking around at the crowd still lingering after your set. “We get about five drunk guys at the bar and that’s it.” He chuckled.
“Well I can guarantee there will be one more person at your next show.” You smiled sweetly, Eddie’s eyes couldn’t help dart to your lips, they looked so soft with a lingering shine from the gloss that must have worn off while you were singing. Realizing he was staring for a beat too long he cleared his throat and looked toward the open door. “So do you need help carrying anything out?”
“No, I’m all packed up but thank you.” You responded politely.
“In that case,” Eddie’s voice deepened as he inched closer to you. “can I buy you a drink?”
A blush crept across your cheeks as you nodded silently. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bar where two stools had just become available.
David walked over to you two slinging a rag over his shoulder. “Hey rockstars, what can I get for you?” You both gave him your drink orders and faced each other on the stools.
“Okay, musician to musician, what did you think of the set?” You asked biting your lip nervously.
“Honestly, I was surprised.” He said, sipping from his beer bottle.
“Surprised we didn’t play covers of Madonna or Bananarama?” You asked while smiling into your drink.
“You could have sang anything and it would have sounded amazing.” He started. “When I came in today I couldn’t believe how many people were lined up to get into The Hideout of all places. But when I saw you up there, it all clicked”
You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh stop, they’re here for the half priced drinks, that’s all.” You said self-deprecatingly.
“Hey, all those people stayed after that bassist puked all over the drums.” you both laughed together. “You were a natural up there.” Eddie’s eyes met yours, still with a smile on his face.
“Thank you.” You said while holding his gaze.
“Hey y/n, sorry” Robin bounced up to you both, “My curfew on school nights is 11 and it is now-“ she looked at her watch. “12:30, and you drove so do you think we could…” she trailed off.
“Yes! Shit, Robin, I’m sorry.” You reached for your pocket pulling out a few stray dollar bills, about to place them on the bar. Eddie quickly shook his head.
“Nope, it’s on me. Employee discount.” He said with a wink.
“Aw, thank you, I’ll make sure I buy your drink when I come see your show.” You said putting the money back in the pocket of your shorts while standing up from the barstool.
“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie said with a shrug.
“Come on, fair is fair!” You giggled and leaned close to his ear. “I’ll see you Tuesday.” You whispered softly before Robin pulled you away.
Eddie could get used to working ladies night.
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perkypeony · 3 months
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𝕐𝕆𝕌'ℝ𝔼 ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝕎𝔼𝔸𝕂
Zeni'n Naoya x girlfriend reader
The mission was tough, but you managed to exorcise the curse. However, you couldn't avoid getting heavily injured. The curse's sharp claw pierced through your body, but you were lucky that it missed your vital organs. You also got a long cut on your forehead along with a few bruises here and there on your body.
"I'm sorry I can't make your scars go away," Shoko said as she finished healing your injuries with her reverse curse technique. "But you may go home now."
"Thanks, Shoko. I'd be a goner without you," you replied with a warm smile.
You then returned to your apartment. You hissed in pain as you bent down to take off your black ankle boots. You stopped by the kitchen for a glass of water before going to the bathroom to take a shower. You sighed when you saw your bloody outfit; you definitely had to use a huge amount of detergent to get rid of the smell and the stains.
You looked at your face in the mirror, slowly unwrapping the bandage from your forehead. You examined the tiny bruise on your jawline and the very visible long scar from the cut on your forehead. "Fuck…" you muttered under your breath. Why, instead of other places, did the curse choose to ruin your beautiful face? After cleaning yourself up, you get into an oversized cartoon T-shirt and black shorts.
You plopped on the bed, phone in hand, planning to order your dinner. Suddenly, a message popped up. It was Naoya. 𝙄𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙣?
Tonight? Oh, your movie night. But no! He couldn't see you like this. You decided to tell him that you were tired from today's mission and asked him if he could wait until the weekend.
𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙚. 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙠𝙖𝙮? 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙞𝙘 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩? 𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩.
Shit. You couldn't risk him seeing your injuries. What if he thought you were weak? What if he hated you after this? Would he dump you and leave for someone else?
“Naoya~ Can you still not get over the fact that I kicked your ass yesterday? C’mon, stop training and let’s go grab something to eat!” you teased him as you elbowed his left arm.
“Can't you stop annoying me?” Naoya's face was screaming FUCK OFF at you. You chuckled, loving all his reactions. You had always loved teasing him ever since the first day in Kyoto Jujutsu High. Since Naoya is the next head of the Zenin clan, you have already heard about him and his awful attitude, especially towards women. He despises women and looks down on them; for him, their job is only to please their husbands.
“Okay, okay. Chill. You did great yesterday. It's me who played dirty by tickling you,” you said, worried that you might have pushed the wrong button. “Let me treat you to sushi as an apology.”
“No need. I'll pay,” he replied sternly.
“But—”
“Shut your fucking mouth and let's go.”
You walked behind him, trying to catch up with his long stride. A smile crept on your blushed face. Naoya could be a nice person, at least when he was around you. He just didn't know how to show it, or he just literally sucked at it.
After a few minutes of debating on how you would explain your situation to him, you told him that you were too shy to send him pictures right now.
𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙤𝙙𝙙. 𝙒𝙚'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙨𝙝𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚.
You palmed your face when you realized how stupid your excuse was. You’d been dating him since the last year of Jujutsu High, and you had exchanged pictures with him so many times before.
You finally told him to give you 30 seconds to snap a picture. You went to a corner of your bedroom where the lighting was bad and used your hair to cover as much of the bandage as you could. You then took a picture with your left hand on your jawline, making it look like you were trying to be cute instead of covering up your bruise. You sent him the picture after you were satisfied that your injuries were barely visible. Now you could only hope that he wouldn't stare at your picture for too long, or worse, zoom in.
𝙄'𝙢 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧.
Panic set in. That wasn't the reply you wanted to see. You began pacing back and forth in your apartment. How could you explain? What would he say?
About 20 minutes later, your doorbell finally rang, and you opened it to find Naoya standing there, his expression unreadable. "Can I come in?"
You made a gesture for him to come inside and closed the door as he walked in. "Naoya, I..." Your voice caught in your throat, and suddenly the truth spilt out. "I got injured during the mission. I didn't want you to see me weak and so pathetic."
He didn't speak for a long moment, his gaze piercing through you. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped forward and pulled you into a gentle embrace. "You're not weak," he murmured against your hair. "You're strong. It's okay to get hurt sometimes. Even I do."
Surprised tears welled in your eyes as relief flooded through you. "You're not mad?"
"No," he said firmly. "I'm proud of you. You know I wouldn't date someone I consider weak."
His fingers brushed lightly over the bandage, his touch surprisingly tender. "Let me take care of you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Let me be here for you."
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stubbornfactory · 9 months
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sapphicforsarahh · 4 months
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best hands i’ve ever seen pt.3
Tumblr media
word count: 2.5k
warnings: smut, top!loubbie x bottom!femreader, strap-on, blowjobs (L receiving), degradation (R receiving), praise (R receiving), mommy kink (debbie), daddy kink (lou)
synopsis: Reader walks in on Loubbie and is encouraged to join.
A/N: this is the final part of the series, I hope that you enjoy!
part 1, part 2
The night goes on. You, Debbie and Lou have a couple more drinks before calling it time to go to bed. It was reaching 11:30pm after all. Debbie stood at the sink and washed the used whiskey tumblers whilst Lou directed you up the stairs to the spare room. "Just here honey," she points to the decorated but uninhabited room. "If you need us, we're just next door," she smiled and pointed to her bedroom, which was, quite literally, next door.
You thank her again and go into the room and settle down. You rummaged around the drawers until you found a charger and plugged it into a free socket, and plugged your phone in. Aimlessly scrolling through social media, you remembered that you needed some night clothes. Throwing the phone on the bed, you looked through the drawers in the room to try and find an oversized t-shirt or anything remotely similar which you could wear to bed, but you were out of look. I'll just knock on their door, see if they have anything that I could wear. Afterall, sleeping in jeans and a shirt isn't exactly ideal for sleeping in.
Quietly, you opened your door and approached Lou and Debbie's room. Their door was slightly ajar and that's when you heard something. Quiet breathy sighs were filling the room, and a muffled slapping sound could be heard. What on earth? Should I leave and just sleep naked or should I knoc-? "Y/N?", you hear the Australian speak. You have to face them now, you've been caught practically spying on them!
"Uh yeah?", you nervously reply, not wanting to enter the room. "Come in here for a second," Lou spoke. A nervous sigh left your lips as the door was pushed open. Holy shit.
Debbie was sitting in Lou's lap, naked. Lou not so much, she still had her shirt on, however buttons had been undone and her black, lacy bra was peeking through. Thankfully, the duvet covered their lower halves, but it wasn't hard to imagine what was happening underneath.
"Is there anything that we can help you with?", Lou asked, a smirk plastered on her face. "I uh, was going to ask if you had a spare shirt or pajamas which I could wear," you found it hard to look at either of them, so you opted for the wall. Debbie found that cute. "Sure, that drawer over there," Debbie pointed to a cabinet which had an arrangement of aftershaves, scarves and piles of expensive jewellery on it. It could only be Lou's.
Timidly, you walk over to the drawer, knowing that both of the women were staring at you. Quickly, just grab a shirt from the top of the pile and leave immediately. God this is so embarrassing!
You politely close the drawer, murmur a 'thank you' and head for the door. "Why don't you join us?", Debbie's sweet but teasing voice filled the room. You stop, considering it, and turned around. Lou's looking at you with a smug grin, her hands now wrapped around Debbie's waist; Debbie's turned around and looks at you with hopeful eyes. "Okay," you decide.
"Come here then," Lou orders and taps the side of the bed next to her, so you're facing Debbie. You obey, obviously and climb on the bed. You could've moaned when you saw Debbie's naked chest this close, her breasts looked so perfect in the dim-light of the room. "Want to help me make her cum?", she asks, nonchalantly, as if it was a casual thing to just ask. You did, of course you did, but you had no experience. "I don't know how," you mumble, slightly embarrassed. Both women let an audible awe, in sympathy.
"You've never pleasured a woman before?", Debbie asks, placing her hand on your clothed knee. You nodded, red faced. "I'll teach you honey don't worry," Lou reassures, before kissing your temple. "Before we start though, can you take your clothes off for us? We both want to see your perfect body," Lou asks, already tugging at your shirt. Nodding, willing to do anything to please the older women, you pull your shirt off in one quick motion, then your jeans, your bra and panties, and throw them carelessly to the floor. "There we go, that's more like it," Debbie almost moans at the sight of you.
Lou reverts her attention back to her wife, and pulls the duvet down so that you can see what's going on. A large strap-on was attached at Lou's waist and was deep inside of her partner. You let a moan slip out your mouth when you saw it. "So cute," Lou comments, placing her large hands back onto Debbie's small hips.
"Y/N, could you touch her clit? Start rubbing it in circles, nice and slow," Lou orders, waiting to see if you'll do just as she says. And you do, eager to please her. Your thumb rubbing small circles right on Debbie's clit. "Just like that," she praises. You notice that Debbie's hips are now beginning to grind down into Lou's strap, letting it hit deeper than before. You look up at her face, her lip tucked under her top teeth, brows furrowed in concentration, and eyes clamped shut.
"Ride me a bit faster baby, does that feel good? Hm?", Lou mimicked the needy whines that Debbie was releasing. Her finger went under her chin to lift it to look at her in the eyes whilst her strap was hitting her g-spot. All she could do was nod. You continue your actions, desperate to see this beautiful woman cum.
"Y/N, you're doing such a good job helping me. Could you go a little bit faster? Same technique, just speed it up," Lou demanded, noticing that Debbie's orgasm was promptly approaching. You nod and speed up your movement, only causing Debbie to groan louder and grind her hips down faster. "There you go honey, you almost there hm? You gonna cum for me and Y/N, put a show on for us?", Lou teases her, thrusting her hips upwards into her wife so she feels more. "Mhm! I'm so close Lou, I want to cum for you," Debbie whimpers pathetically.
"Cum for me Debs," Lou finally allows, your thumb still circling. You feel her clit twitch as she came, it felt so good. Her thrusts slow down and she catches her breath, leaning forwards and kissing Lou messily. "You were so good for us, you did a good job of showing our guest who's in control here," Lou smirked. Debbie couldn't answer, she just pulled herself off Lou's strap and lay down next to her, totally exhausted from her previous activity.
You stare down at the strap. It was a shimmering purple, large, around 7 inches and covered in Debbie's cum. "You going to clean it?", Lou asked. You could only nod, worried that if you said something that you would moan. Quickly, you crawled between Lou's legs and prepared yourself to suck her clean. Before doing so, you looked up at Lou for approval. She nods and waits for you to move your head down. First, a slow and nervous lick was given to the tip of the strap.
Fuck, it was still warm from being inside Debbie. Her cum tasted so good, you couldn't get enough. Soon enough, your mouth has wrapped around the tip fully, and your head began bobbing. "There you go, keep going honey," Lou encouraged. You felt brave enough to try and take it deeper, so you did. About half down, you felt it hit the back of your throat and you pulled back up. You went back down again faster and repeated your actions, slurping as you went.
Lou's large hand had reached your head now, grabbing your hair and pushing you down onto it. "God, you're such a good girl aren't you? Eager to please, ready to clean mommy's cum off of daddy's strap. You're taking me so fucking well darling," Lou praised you, which caused a whiny moan to leave you. After a few more minutes, Lou thought that your cleaning was sufficient. Her tight grip on your hair pulled your mouth off the strap. Your face was a mess: spit dripping down your chin and sides of your mouth, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide and hair disheveled from Lou's rough hands.
You heard Debbie say, "She's so pretty when you make a mess of her." You moaned from the way that she talked about you, as if you weren't right in front of her. "Isn't she just," Lou agreed. "Have I done a good job daddy?", you ask, hoping for a positive reaction. "Such a good job, it's about time we give you a reward isn't it baby?" Lou smirks, finally letting go of your hair. You nod eagerly, wanting nothing but to cum.
You watch Debbie as she sits up, her back against the pillows and she spreads her legs. "Sit between mommy's legs," Debbie asks. You enthusiastically climb over and sit in-between them, your back against her bare chest, feeling her nipples harden at the contact. "You're doing so so good for us honey," Lou praises again, kneeling in front of you. "Spread your legs for me," she orders, her hands adjusting the strap so its tight against her waist. You do as your told, but nervously so. Slowly, you spread your legs, embarrassed at how wet you were probably were from watching Debbie cum and sucking Lou off.
Lou looks down at the glistening sight before her. Two of her fingers go down to swipe some pre-cum from you. She chuckled as she lifted them to the light and put them in between Debbie's lips. "Sweet?", she asks her partner. Debbie only nods in response. The suspense was killing you. All you needed was Lou's strap inside you, now. And both of them could tell. By the way that you were looking at Lou, all submissively and how quickly your chest was rising and falling.
"Is there something that you want sweet thing?", Debbie whispers in your ear with a sultry tone, her hands going to your breasts to massage them. You nod, not strong enough to form an answer. "Well? What is it?" Lou asks, coming closer to you, her hands now resting on your knees. "P-please," you begin. "Please make me feel good," you managed.
"There you go," Lou lines her strap with your pussy, but doesn't put it in yet. Instead, she rubs the strap against your entrance, gathering your wetness, and spreading across your lips. "Baby you're soaked, almost dripping onto the mattress infact," Lou almost chuckled. Your cheeks flushed instantly at the humiliation of it all. You try to hide your face in the crook of Debbie's neck, but she just moves it right back, so you have to keep looking forwards at Lou.
After what seemed hours of Lou teasing the outside of your pussy, she lines her tip with your entrance. You look down, wondering how something that big will fit inside. Instead, Lou's finger lifts your chin up, making sure that you're looking at her when she slips slips inside of you. "I don't know if it'll fit," you state nervously. Lou laughed, "don't worry about that, daddy will make it fit."
You feel the strap begin to stretch you out, a feeling that was too good to even imagine. "Oh shit," you moan, feeling Lou go deeper and deeper. "Just like that," Debbie groans, watching the object penetrate you. The feeling of the stretch was unlike anything you'd ever felt. "Fuck, you're so tight," Lou sighed.
After being careful to not hurt you, Lou finally got the whole strap into you. "You look so pretty baby, full of daddy's strap," Debbie comments, her hands still massaging your breasts, sometimes pinching your nipples. "Can I move?" Lou asks, waiting for you to adjust to the feeling. "Yes, please daddy," you weakly mewl. She smiles before slowly sliding the strap in and out of you.
The sound of your wetness was growing louder and louder as Lou sped up her thrusts. Her hands moved to your hips, to stop them from moving and so she can push you further into the bed. The feeling was almost overwhelming due to how good it felt. "You're doing so good for us sweetheart, taking daddy's strap deep," Debbie purred in your ear. "That's right, who knew an innocent thing like you would be such a slut from daddy's cock hm?", Lou added, thrusting harder now, her hips slapping against your own. You moaned from her words.
"Oh does our girl like a bit of degradation hm?", Debbie asked, and you shyly hid again. "None of that pretty girl, I want to see your face when I make you a little slut for me. Your eyes rolling back into your head as I fuck this perfect pussy," Lou adds. Even Debbie could cum from the way that her wife was talking to you. All you could do was nod, as what she was saying was true after all.
"I'm going to cum," you pant, your hips beginning to wildly buck. "Not until you've asked us both for permission", Lou states. You nod and ask Debbie first, knowing that she'll give in easier. "Mommy, can I cum? Please?", you turn your head to look at her and give her pleading eyes. She nods. Now you need to persuade Lou. You turn your head back around, looking up at her through hooded eyes. "Daddy please let me cum," you beg. "Pathetic begging. You can do better than that can't you? Or are you just a mindless slut?", she scoffs, her thrusts hitting deeper. "No! Please daddy, I'll be so good for you. Please let me cum, let me be your little slut," you plead, needy whines escaping your lips.
"I suppose you have been good, isn't that right Debbie?", she makes eye contact with her wife. Debbie simply nods. You were so close, you were only seconds away from your orgasm. "Cum for us honey, show us how good you've been," Lou finally allows. It didn't take long for you to finish after you'd been given permission. Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, pleasure rippled through your body and caused your legs to shake. Lou continues her thrusts, more slowly and deeply, not wanting to cause you to overstimulate.
The effects of the orgasm eventually pass, leaving you exhausted and sandwiched between the two older women. "You did so well for us baby," Debbie praised, stroking your hair. "Thank you mommy," you murmured. Lou slowly took out the strap, and watched as cum poured out of you. "Fuck baby, you came so hard didn't you? Let me get a warm towel," she gets off the bed and goes to the bathroom. "Can I stay with you both tonight?" You ask. "Of course honey," she smiles down at you.
Lou comes back with a clean, warm, wet towel. "Let me gently clean you up, then we can go to bed. How does that sound?"
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