#can visibly see my a bit peeling off

[cattatoir]

New tattoos giving me the forbidden itch

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 4: Midnight Snack

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.5K words

Warning/Notes: Soap x Reader, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, messy make out

This is the video from where the photo is, if you haven't seen it, You have to and if you have already, you are welcome.

The drive back to base seems neverending. 

Once Price and Ghost managed to get you to stop crying and to breathe normally. The three of you pack the essentials, and by that, I mean you were hugged to Ghost like a koala while Price got what he could save from your house into a bag pack. 

Most of your clothes were ripped or cut, so in the end, only some pieces of underwear, a couple of shirts, some pants and the pyjamas you were wearing were safe. Plus your jacket and shoes that were behind the door. 

And that is how you found yourself now. Sobbing, sitting in the middle of the back seat, bag pack on your lap, Simon’s hand on your knee from the passenger seat as Price drives.

“Tomorrow morning, you are going to call your job, and tell them that you are going to take a couple of days off, okay?” Price asks looking at you through the rearview mirror. “And we will take everything you need, we will buy clothes, find you a better place to stay, anything you need.”

You shake your head feeling the tears come back and you hide your face behind your hands as you start to cry again. “I can't.” You cry. “What can't you do?” Simon asks turning his head to look at you.

“Miss more work days, I have already taken too many. I can't afford to lose more.” You mumble whining out of mental exhaustion.

“Hey, stop. Don't get carried away, alright?” Simon says rubbing your thigh. “Let's not think about that right now, tomorrow tell your boss the situation. Tell them that your house was broken into, that you need a couple of days to get everything in order. Depending on what your boss says, we'll work from there. Alright, birdie?”

You nod weakly as you focus on taking deep breaths. When you finally arrive, both men get out of the car and Price opens the door for you. You step out still holding your bag tight, either men try to take it from your hands and walk along between both men. 

Their hands find their way to your back, Price to the bottom and Simon to the top, reassuring shielding you from the chilly breeze of the night. 

“How about a cuppa?” Simon asks looking at you, a smile visible in his eyes, and you can't help it but to give him a weak smile back nodding. “Then, we will find you a room so you can sleep as much as you want.” 

Sleep does sound amazing, taking into consideration that last night you had little sleep and you have been on the move ever since. 

Price and Simon walk you to a lousy room, many recruits sitting together. The mess hall, you figure. In the middle of the room, there are a couple of sofas, and you quickly recognise Soap and Gaz, sprawled together in one of them looking at Gaz's phone. 

Most of the soldiers that are finishing their dinner, or just enjoying each other company before going to bed look up when they hear the door opening. Their gazes linger for a second too long on you until you can feel Ghost throwing them a warning sign in the form of a look and they peel their eyes away.

Gaz and Soap look up when they hear the door open, and just for a second, they smile at you before they furrow their browns when they see everyone's expression. 

“What happened? How come the wee lass so spooked?” Soap asks sitting straight and patting the seat between him and Kyle.

Price’s hand on your lower back softly pushes you forward to sit down before he answers: “She’s still a bit in shock, Soap. We’ll talk about it later.”

You sit down between Soap and Gaz, backpack still in your hands, and pull your knees up hugging your legs. Gaz points to your backpack and asks: “You sleeping over tonight? You should definitely sleep in Soap’s and my room. Ghost and Price have their own individual ones, but they snore.” He whispers the last part pulling a little smile from you.

You lean your head on Soap's shoulder when he lays his arm on the couch behind your back. The man is a living furnace and shortly after you find yourself seeking more contact.

Price sits on the second sofa in front of you and just a second later Ghost appears back, cup of tea on hand, as he gives it to you. You take it from his hands, yours still shaking just a little bit as you do, and you rest it on top of your knee for support.

Kyle's hand find its way to your other knee giving it a light squeeze. “How's your arm, luv?” You look at your elbow and shrug your shoulder. “I haven't even had time to check it, good I think, it hasn't bothered me.”

“You didn't get hurt today, did you?” Price asks focusing on your face after doing a quick check-up of you. You shake your head: “No, a headbutt on the ceiling if anything.”

Price nods, satisfied with your answer and shakes his head at the sergeant's questioning look. You look down to the tea, thoughts getting to you. You saw your neighbour get arrested, and if he had gotten free they would have told you. So it must have been someone who works for them, and if he wasn't arrested already is because they didn't really know who works for them. 

“What are you thinking about, birdie?” Ghost brings you back to reality with just a question. “Am I safe here?” You ask, with a shake in your voice. 

“Yes.” Price's answer is concise, full of trust in his own word, leaving no room for doubt. “As long as you are with us, nothing and nobody is getting to you.”

You look at his face, almost as if expecting him to burst laughing at you for trusting them. A voice in your head screams at you not to do it, you barely know them. But you thought you knew your neighbour and now he's trying to kill you, so. 

You nod and take a sip of the tea. Warming you inside and letting you relax just a bit. 

“How about a distraction?” Soap asks smiling at you. “Have we told ye aboot the time Gaz fell from a helo and was hangin’ from a rope like a yo-yo?”

“Fucking hell, Johnny. Shut up!” Gaz complains laughing next to you. 

The time went a bit more smoothly when Soap decided to talk about everyone's embarrassing stories, you could still tell he wasn't telling everything, keeping the classified information for himself, but still telling enough to have you laughing, gasping and asking with interest as he told.

By the time you finished your tea, you were already in a greater mood, the attack from today moved to the back of your head. Price lends you a hand to help you stand up while Ghost takes the empty cup from you. Gaz and Soap keep their word to share the room for the night against Price and Ghost's complaint that they should let you rest alone. Until the words “I don't really want to be alone.” leave your mouth and that's the end of the bickering. 

Soap and Gaz barracks are quite simple, two single beds against opposite walls, two desks, two little bookshelves and two closets. Almost as if there was a mirror in the middle of the room if it wasn't for the little trinkets and details on each side letting you know the right bed was Soap's and the one on the left was Gaz's. 

After a quick rock, paper, scissor championship, it is decided you will be sharing Soap's bed. And since you are already in your pyjamas, you get inside the bed quickly, ready to be done with the day. Soap lays behind you, hugging your middle and dropping a kiss to your temple. “Sleep tight, bonnie.”

A ray of light erupts from the bathroom door that is practically closed, almost as if whoever closed was afraid the click of the door closing would wake you up. At first, you don't think most of it, Soap must have gotten up to pee. But then you listen, and it doesn't sound like that's what he is doing in the bathroom.

Little grunts can be heard as well as the sound of skin hitting skin. You stand up from the bed, curiosity taking control of your body and walking you to peak at the door. You shouldn't, you really shouldn't. But once you lay your eyes on him, you know you are fucked. 

Soap is barechested, leaning against the sink with a hand supporting him while the other strokes his dick. He has his eyes closed, head low with his mouth open slightly, and small grunts and whines leave his lips. 

The grey sweatpants slightly lowered, allowing you to see the curve of his lower back as well as what you trust is the girthiest dick you have ever laid your eyes onto. The tip looks red, hungry for release, pearls of precum dripping from it making your mouth water. 

There is a turmoil of thoughts in your head, you keep repeating to yourself that you need to place some distance between yourself and these men. But the moment any of them show any skin or any emotion of want towards you, you throw yourself at them. 

Three times have you gone through this, your mind telling you is a bad idea and your pussy pushing you at their arms. This time is not different, and before you know it, you are inside the bathroom locking the door making Soap jump.

“Steamin’ jesus, bonnie.” He says shoving his dick inside his pants and turning his back at you to hide his tent. “Knock before entering, lass.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, not feeling sorry and you slowly walk to him. “I just wanted to help…”

“What? What you me-” He gets cut mid-question when he feels your hand grazing his tip, pressing your chest to his back and surrounding his waist with your arm. You use a hand to feel his abdomen and the other to softly caress the length of his dick inside his pants.

“But I can go back to bed if you don't want…” You say looking at the back of his head. “Don't you dare.” He answers grabbing your wrist when you try to take it back and he looks at you over his shoulder. 

“Ye dinnae have to do it if ye dinnae want… but if you want, I'll take anythin’ ye throw at me, bonnie.” He says turning around and cupping your face after lowering his pants again to free his erection. “I had to run to the bathroom cause ye were rubbing yer arse against me on yer sleep, I was about to explode.”

“Well then, I think it's only fair I fix it, right?” You ask looking at him cheekly. He leans down and kisses you smiling into the kiss. Little groans slide into your mouth as you stroke him and you can feel his hips thrust softly into your hand as well. 

For the last two days these men have only but given to you, and as much as you have enjoyed every single second of it, it is about time you give back. 

You pick Soap's hand from your cheek and push it up to your hair. “Make sure to keep my hair away from my face, all right?”

He looks at you confused but quickly gets the idea when you kneel before him. He quickly brushes your hair back with his finger, doing a ponytail at the back of your head and groans deeply when you give a kitty lick to his tip.

You pop his tip inside your mouth sucking softly as you circle it with your tongue. Stroke the rest with both your hands, unable to reach your thumb with your index because of the girth and slowly bobbing your head up and down.

Soap stays mumbling curse words under his breath, low enough to not be able to hear him and you wish you were not hiding in the bathroom and could hear him scream. You think back to when Price ate you out, did he get as turn-on satisfying you as you are getting doing it to Soap? 

He opens his eyes to lock into yours and you look up to him through your lashes as you start to get more inside your mouth. 

“Fokin’ hell, bonnie. Keep looking at me like that and I'm not gonna last a second.” He says struggling to keep his eyes open. 

You chuckle inside your head, and keep getting closer and closer to his hipbone. You must praise Soap's self-commitment to not cum, even though you can feel the grip on your hair getting tighter. When you feel his pubes brush against your nose you pull back taking a breath and look at him. When you lock eyes with each other, you smile and say before opening your mouth: “Fuck my throat, Johnny.”

For a second you get scared that Soap will just cum as you speak when you physically see the shudder that goes through him. But then he grips your hair back making you look up to him and he kisses your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Spit, drool and precum all mixing between your tongues and when he draws back to talk a threat of spit connect your lips. “You are going to fucking kill me, lass.” He mumbles and stands up to full height.

He doesn't let go of your hair and when you stick your tongue out he slaps it with his cock. “Gonna fuck yer throat raw, bonnie. Bite if it gets too much.” He smirks before shoving his dick down your throat in a single thrust and beginning to fulfil his word.

“Fuck, bonnie.” He says slurring his words between moans. “Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking lass, so, so good, fuck.” 

Your visions get blurry with the tears from fighting your gag reflex, your hands rest on Soap's thighs and you can feel them flex with each thrust. If it wasn't for your pants you know you would be literally dripping on the floor, never did you though it could turn you on this much. But seeing Soap becoming such a mess, not being even able to speak, just mumbles and curses leaving his mouth. 

“Let me cum inside, bonnie, please. I wanna see you drink it, please, please, bonnie, please.” He begs looking at your face with a pained expression, and almost as if he was waiting for your answer when you slightly nod he grunts and you feel his spent travel down your throat. He stays like that for another second and finally pulls out, you open your mouth showing him your work and he smiles as he bends down to kiss you again. “Fucking beautiful, love.”

The next morning you are woken up by an alarm and just a second later a door slamming shut. “I call dibs on the bathroom!” Kyle shouts making you jump.

You turn around on Soap's arms, nuzzling your face on his chest and sighing satisfied. “Eejit” Soap mumbles with his chin resting on top of your head.

“Do we have to share the bathroom the three of us?” You ask against his chest.

“Ye didnae seem to mind sharing it with me last night.” He mumbles back and you feel his chest tumble with a laugh.

“Aw, shut up, Johnny.” You say chuckling and yawning. “What time is it, anyway? I feel like I slept just two hours.”

“0540, not too far off to be honest.” He answers and when your half-sleep brain processes what time it is you look at him as if he has just insulted you. “What?”

“Why the fuck are we up before 6 in the morning? Like, seriously, the fuck?” You ask grumpy as you sit up pulling your legs over Soap's torso. He caresses one of your calves and flexes his arm resting his head on his hand. If you were not so bothered to be awakened so early, you would admire his physique. 

“This is the military, love.” He says smiling. “Ye look like an angry kitty.”

You pull the pillow from under his head and hit him with it making him laugh. “Do we need to be ready before six?”

“Yeah, actually, that's when we are supposed to have breakfast. We are meeting Lt. and Price there.” He says taking the pillow from his face. “Ye should get dressed.”

You groan standing up and picking your bag from the side of the bed. You pull your clothes out, and notice that you can barely form a full outfit; you sigh and sit on the floor looking at Soap who is now on his side, elbow on the bed and head resting on his hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and says: “That's all ye packed, lassie? I thought ye were staying more time.” 

He stands up, walks to his closet and picks something from inside just to throw it to your head. An uf sound leaves your throat and you pick it up to see it, it is a sweatshirt with MacTavish written on the back. “It is cold this early in the morning, we don't want ye freezing up. Get dressed.”

He bends down to drop a kiss on your lips leaving you a bit stunned and enters the bathroom without knocking making Gaz protest from the inside. “Stop screaming, it's me. I'm just giving the wee lass some privacy, Gaz.” 

You chuckle to yourself and quickly get dressed, putting on the only pair of jeans you have, and a weird t-shirt from some kind of ad you used to wear to sleep, feeling really grateful it is covered with Soap's sweatshirt.

“What are you doing here, luv?” Price asks standing up when he sees you enter the mess hall following Soap and Gaz. “Everything alright?”

The expression on your face must be portrait-worth because you can see even Simon's eyes twirl with a smile. 

“What do you mean what I'm doing here?” You ask looking at Price, until you hear a little snickering coming from both Gaz and Soap and you finally put two and two together. You turn to Soap and when you finally make eye contact with him, he burst out laughing.

“I'm sorry, bonnie. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to waste it.” He says raising his hand in false innocence. He tries to side-hug you, but you move quickly raising your chin offended and walking up to Price. “I'll fetch ye breakfast as a peace offering, all right, love?”

“That's the minimum you can do!” You exclaim still offended and stick your tongue out to him as you sit between where Ghost is sitting and where Price was sitting, him following you.

“Sorry about that, love.” Price says rubbing your tight. “I told them muppets to let you sleep in today. Did you at rest good?”

Gaz sits in front of you with a smirk, and you don't know if he knows, but you are sure that if he does he will snitch on you so stay on edge making sure not to break eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I did. The bed was surprisingly comforting, and Soap was a weighted blanket so.” You answer still looking at Gaz. You can feel Price's questioning look and Ghost's smirk.

“So Soap was comfortable?” Gaz asks smiling.

“Yeah, quite comfortable.” You answer.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

You don't know how, but he knows.

“Is that why you followed him to the bathroom when he went in the middle of the night?” He asks.

Fucking Garrick.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You respond looking at your nails.

“I'm talking about when you into the bathroom and helped-”

CLANK

Soap puts the tray of food in front of you just in time, cutting Gaz's claim and starts to enunciate the food he bought. “I got ye coffee cause it's obvious yer not a morning person, I brought ye toast, some fruits and a little cereal cause I didn't really know what ye wanted. And I bought ye chocolate pudding.” He says putting the little cup on your hands, giving you a kiss on your head. “For sucking my dick so good last night.”

Gaz bursts out laughing, happy that he didn't even need to tell anything, while Ghost chuckles under his breath and Price sighs rubbing his forehead.

“I think there is a conversation that we definitely need to have.” Price announces. “For everyone's sake.”

Hiii 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

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[sixosix]

just say it | nagi seishiro

angst to fluff, confessions!!, friends to lovers, time skip, 2k words

you’re not sure, exactly, but seeing nagi seishiro sprawled like a cat on your couch, looking all too much like your home is his, leaves almost a strange feeling in your stomach. it festers, ugly and clinging.

and stupid nagi continues to lay there, oblivious to how your fingers clench to block out the beat of your heart.

“oi,” you throw a towel on his head, grimacing at the sight of sweat clinging to the back of his neck and sticking onto your headrest. “what are you doing in my house?” and did he travel by foot all the way here? under the scorching sun?

nagi cranes his neck, all slow and lazy, eyes wide. “oh,” he says. “you left your notebook,” he points at the table, without looking at it, “on my desk.”

“well, thanks, i guess.” you push his long legs away from the side of the couch and fall back onto it, sighing deeply. “you could’ve just given it to me tomorrow.”

he seems to pause for a second, thumbs hovering awkwardly on his phone screen. when you face him with a questioning look, he returns as if nothing happened. “reo said i could visit you.”

you hate it. you always hate when nagi does this.

when for a split second, he hesitates, shuffles a bit too close, his fingers tremble to reach for you, or his eyes flicker to your lips, but he never does anything about it.

he pulls away at the last second, and time seems to flow back normally in a snap. as if he wasn’t just about to ruin the friendship you’ve been picking scabs on just to get him to peel it off and make a move already.

and knowing nagi, he never does. he never does. (and he never will.)

“reo, huh,” you murmur, giving him a doubtful look. nagi doesn’t react visibly, but you can tell he’s starting to get uncomfortable under your scrutiny, burying his chin into the towel.

when you stretch your legs over his lap, he lets you. he doesn’t question it, doesn’t react, just keeps playing on his phone, and it’s almost infuriating how little you have an effect on him.

and knowing you, you’ll keep letting him drag this out. because underneath that frustration is fear, vulnerable and thin, ready to crumble faster than butterfly wings with the wrong move.

if you confess, and he pulls away, it can still be back to normal. that’s what everyone says, and those people don’t talk to their forgotten ones anymore. they wouldn’t understand.

but it will never be the same with nagi, because you know that you love him and will keep loving him. it will not be okay if he doesn’t feel the same, no matter how hard you try to fool yourself. it will hurt and claw out your heart, chew, and spit it out like it wasn’t someone’s soul.

it will hurt to know that you would peel yourself open and offer your heart to him, and he wouldn’t even accept it because he’ll say he doesn’t love you back. he shouldn’t deserve your dedication. it will hurt even more to know that nagi will bleed out for someone else someday, despite the longing glances and lingering touches he keeps giving your way.

“you know, you should be asking me permission, not literally anyone else who doesn’t live here.”

nagi hums, and the round finishes with a final slash of his weapon. the boss crumbles, and you kind of feel for it. he spares you a glance. “you don’t mind.”

you don’t.

even if you don’t say it out loud, the ghost of a smile on nagi’s lips says he knows.

it should be enough that you could be under the same sky as him. someone like nagi. but you are selfish and obsessed, keening like a tamed lion when his attention is focused your way.

with an almost personal jab on the number button of the vending machine, you watch the juice box tumble out.

you bend down to pluck it out but almost drop it back down again when you feel a warm body press against your back as you stand straight.

with a chin propped up on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist, and a phone right in front of you, you nearly choke on your spit realizing who it is.

“fuck’s sake, nagi,” you breathe, pressing a hand on your chest as if that would somehow strangle it to quiet down.

when nagi huffs an amused laugh, your traitorous heart goes wilder.

“let me free so i can also buy you your lemon tea,” you grumble, wriggling in his grasp.

nagi continues fiddling with his phone, skillfully defeating virtual enemies. “no,” he says after a while. “you’re warm.”

“i’ll strangle you.”

nagi hums in acknowledgment.

with a defeated sigh, you press the number of nagi’s favorite drink, packed in a bright yellow box. hoping to piss him off, you abruptly squat down to grab the lemon tea, but nagi follows, unbothered.

he follows after you, and again when you rise back up. and he’s still unbothered.

“you are so annoying,” you grumble, tucking your juice box under your arm to unwrap nagi’s. you poke the straw in, scowling.

you twist in his grasp to face him, holding the straw up to his mouth. “here. you haven’t drunk anything recently.”

but nagi’s face is too surprised, his eyes flicking down to where your hand is on his chest, then to where his arms are still snug around you. if you still had any hope left in you, you’d say there’s a flush in his cheeks.

it makes you realize how this position must look to other people, pressed against each other like this.

“thanks,” nagi murmurs, sipping happily on the straw. the moment shatters once again, and he doesn’t fucking do anything about it. even later and tomorrow, and the day after that, you two won’t talk about it.

from behind you, his character makes a grunt of pain, and you notice nagi isn’t looking at his phone, but somewhere on your face.

down, his phone says.

down, indeed.

when nagi and reo have to leave for this thing called blue lock, you say to yourself that you’re relieved.

you’ll miss reo a lot. he is one of your best friends, and you’re proud to watch him grow and become the person he wants to be. at least he doesn’t drive you fucking crazy.

nagi is an entirely different story.

the goodbye wasn’t anything remotely close to heartfelt. it felt like they weren’t even leaving, just taking a trip to the bathroom, but they had to make everything dramatic for no reason. and you’re fine with that. it will soften the blow.

but stupid nagi doesn’t allow just a gentle wound when he leaves.

[reo 6:43] don’t miss us too much y/n or else i might have to come running out :(

[y/n 6:50] don’t baby me and go play soccer, loser

[y/n 6:50] you better text me as soon as you can and tell me everything

[reo 6:52] i will i will

[reo 6:52] (sends an attachment of him and nagi on bus seats. reo has an arm thrown over nagi’s shoulder with his tongue stuck out, while nagi is frowning at the window.

[y/n 6:53] dumbasses. i love you.

[reo 6:53] we love you too

[nagi 7:35] i miss you.

you bury your phone face-first on your bed, as if that’ll spit out nagi’s message and let you cut it in pieces and throw it out of existence. you hate it. you hate it.

what was it about distance making the heart grow fonder?

fuck.

you bite your pillow and steer your mind clear of anything else.

nagi will probably forget about you after this whole blue lock thing anyway. it’s better to get used to being on your own now.

“a match?”

“yes,” reo’s voice says over the phone. there’s a cheer of teen boys echoing, and reo apologizes, saying he’ll leave the locker room. “you’ve seen the news, right?”

no, you haven’t. “that’s… cool!” you don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. “with who?”

“come watch us play, idiot,” reo chuckles; he knows you’ll say yes sooner or later, and you hate that you know he’s right. “didn’t you miss us?”

it’s only today that you and reo started talking again. he says he’s been busy, and you tell him it’s fine because so were you. but meeting him again tomorrow when it’s been so long since you’ve even spoken? you’re not sure if that’s fine.

“i… don’t know.” you glance at the date displayed on your screen, considering. “tomorrow, was it?”

you really have been busy. you’re not sure if you can take it if the stress of life adds up to the stress upon seeing nagi’s stupidly handsome face.

“yup. you should see nagi, man; he’s been really awesome lately.”

just the mention is enough to seize your heart and sway you. you scowl, and judging by the smile you can hear from reo, he did it on purpose.

“i’ll see if i’m free, i suppose,” you sigh, falling on your mattress to frown at the ceiling. “how have you been, reo?”

when reo launches into a ramble about all the events that went down, you let him. you smile and freely admit that you did miss them more than you can bring yourself to admit. it’s a bandage for a bullet wound.

“fuck.”

you weave through the crowd and halls with as much speed as possible. your ankles ache and protest with each step, but you ignore it. your heart beats and echoes in your ears, berating you for this stupid decision, but you ignore it.

the crowd erupts into deafening cheers, and you wince, scrambling to pick up your pace. the speakers from the corners of the wall announce the winners, and they scream and howl again.

“fuck, fuck.”

you’re late.

the worst part is, you can’t make them treat you to dinner for the stress this is giving you because they’re the ones who won.

when you finally reach the door, there’s already a string of people leaving, talking among themselves animatedly. you hear names, straining your ear when someone mentions reo, nagi, nagi, nagi.

the stadium is slowly filling out, and guilt eats you right up for missing even the winning shot. but you were too busy being indecisive not to be late when ( eventually ) leaving the house.

it’s fine. if nagi won’t care about you, then at least reo is there. he invited you, and you won’t lie that you also came to watch your best friend. ( you ignore the bitterness in your chest. )

“y/n!”

you perk up at the sound of reo’s voice, unable to fight the smile off your face when he comes running straight your way.

“come down here!” he calls out, grinning wide. there’s something different about it, though you’re not sure what it is exactly. was it the confidence he’s exuding? the sureness of himself?

you make your way to where he can reach you and gasp when his sweaty ass comes to hug you.

“gross, gross,” you hiss, trying to slap his arms away. “don’t slobber all over me.”

reo laughs, “you’re also all sweaty. did you just arrive?”

you grimace. “sorry. i was being an idiot overthinking again.” you smile at him, and hope you can convey that you really are happy seeing him again. “congrats on winning, reo. i’m proud.”

he sighs, shaking his head fondly. “well, whatever. at least you still visited. we missed you.”

we, huh? 

reo smirks, noticing immediately when you try to search for a certain white-haired boy discreetly.

panic fills you when reo cups his hands around his mouth. “wait, don’t call him—”

“oi, nagi!” reo turns to his left, and your eyes immediately find a home in nagi’s.

your breath catches in your throat when nagi’s eyes widen ever-so-slightly. strands of hair are sticking out from his head, and his nose is all burnt from the heat. his lips part to speak, but he shakes his head instead.

then, he’s jogging towards you.

nagi seishiro is jogging towards you. christ, that’s kind of terrifying.

“hey.” you hold your hands up protectively over your body. “hey, hey, don’t—”

nagi hugs you, trapping you in his embrace, and the words die on your tongue. you don’t know what’s worse: registering the cackle reo is letting out or the fact that nagi doesn’t actually smell, and you find comfort in his warmth.

“you came,” he breathes.

you blink up at him, wilting under his stare. “well. reo said i could.”

nagi’s brows knit together subtly, and you almost grin in victory. 

“i missed you,” nagi says, squeezing you in his grasp, “a lot.”

you look at him, and realize that it’s not just reo who’s changed. nagi is staring straight at you, in your eyes, and he isn’t wavering or shying away when you stare back. his eyes are alight with conviction.

suddenly, your mouth goes dry. “i—i missed you, too, nagi.”

something in nagi’s eyes shift.

this is what you wanted: for nagi to be forward, to take what he wants, say what is on his mind, but you weren’t expecting it to melt you in a puddle like this.

“hey,” you tug his arm, face in flames, “i think your teammates are calling you—”

“you came for reo,” nagi murmurs, inching closer, “you’ll stay for me.”

and, wow, okay. you need a bit to process that.

before you can respond, though, his lips meet yours and keep you there.

your heart lurches in your throat. for a second, you could only stare wide-eyed, frozen, but upon seeing the flush on nagi’s ears and the hesitant press of his lips; you let yourself melt into him. his arms tighten around you when you sling your arms over his neck.

when you start to feel a little lightheaded, you pull away, and he chases after you, pouting slightly.

“why did—” you heave, catching your breath. “why did you just kiss me like that?”

“you don’t mind,” nagi says, kissing the side of your mouth as if to coax you back into kissing him again.

“i don’t,” you agree. and frown. “why do you think so?”

this kiss will mean nothing until you can hear him say it.

“because you like me,” nagi says; there’s a dangerous glint in his eye.

“you don’t mind?”

“i don’t.” nagi smiles against your mouth. “because i like you, too.”

sorry if this is a mess!!!!!! this was supposed to be like 500 words (and was supposed to end on a bad note) but it kept flowing out of me so i just let it be 😭😭🙏

[strangersmunsons]

Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 1 Prompt: Flowers 💐 ~ 1,000 words Eddie surprises you with a bouquet of flowers.

You sigh as you trudge to the front door, stomping the excess snow off of your boots before entering the house. After a long, cold day, all you really want is to curl up on the couch with a cup of hot tea. 

All your outerwear is stripped off and hung, melted snow dripping little puddles on the hardwood floor. You quickly change into a pair of comfier clothes, seat yourself in the living room, and flick the TV on.

You’ve made it halfway through one episode of mind-numbing television when the front door pushes open again.

Eddie’s here.

You’re still getting used to that. There used to be someone, then for a long time there wasn’t anyone, and then Eddie came into your life, which meant that someone was…here, again.

He looks handsome, as he always does, when he comes in and finds you. He’s all warm, dimpled smile and puppy eyes, and the bit of scruff he neglected to shave off gives you a delightful scratch when he leans down and kisses you hello.

One hand is carrying a crinkly plastic bag, which he holds firmly behind his back, while the other hand softly cups your cheek. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, rubbing his nose lightly against yours.  

“Hi,” you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Did you stay warm today?”

“I did. Had my hand warmers and everything,” he reassures you. 

You give him a little squeeze. “Good.”

He kisses your cheek. “By the way, I have something for you,” he says slyly, straightening back up. 

You blink, confused. “Oh?”

He pulls the bag out from behind his back, holding whatever the object is from its bottom. Then he bunches the plastic down around his fist, so you can get a clear look at what’s inside.

Eddie is holding a bouquet of flowers. 

It’s a mix of large and small blooms, ranging in color from white to pale pink to deep maroon. Some are roses, and you guess at the others. You think the small ones might be baby's breath, and the larger ones, dahlias, perhaps? You’re not sure. Whatever they are, they’re beautiful.

You simply stare at the fragrant blossoms, lips slightly parted.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks gently. “You good?”

“Yes,” you manage, an awestruck smile slowly unfurling across your face. “Those are for me?”

Eddie laughs kindly. “Of course they are,” he teases. “You see anyone else in here?”

A wave of unexpected emotion washes over you, and a lump rises in your throat. You rub at your temple with a shaky hand, embarrassed by your own intense reaction.

“No one I’ve been with has ever gotten me flowers before,” you admit.

Eddie visibly softens. “Well, I don’t know how that could be, but I’m honored to be the first.” He removes the grocery bag entirely and lets it drift to the floor, handing you the bouquet. “Thought it’d be appropriate for today.”

“Appropriate,” you murmur, sniffing delicately at a silky rose, eyes shining with happiness. “What do you mean?”

“Uhh…have you looked at the calendar today?”

Something in his voice snaps you out of your reverie, and you drag your gaze away from your pretty flowers to his amused expression. 

He cocks his head to the side. “It’s the 14th, baby.”

It takes a second, but it finally dawns on you. Your heart lurches.

“Oh my God,” you mumble. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize —”

Eddie cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “That’s okay. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. I’ve been meanin’ to get you flowers at some point, anyway.”

His smile tells you that everything is okay. You decide to believe it.

You hold the bouquet delicately, handling it as though it were priceless. Eddie follows you into the kitchen, where you pull your only vase out from its place beneath the sink. You blow a speck of dust off the glass rim, and fill it with water.

Then, after carefully peeling the cellophane away from the bundle, you lay the flowers aside on the counter. 

“You have to cut the stems at an angle, so they absorb the water better,” you explain to Eddie as you rifle around the junk drawer for your kitchen shears.

Eddie watches your ministrations with tender affection. “Oh, yeah? How does that work?”

You pause your movements. “I don’t know, actually,” you confess. “That’s just what my mom taught me.”

You proceed with cutting away the excess stems, and move the flowers into the vase, trying to arrange them exactly as they were when Eddie presented them to you. When they look right, you place them in the center of your kitchen table.

“There.”

Eddie stands back and admires your handiwork. You step in front of him and move in close, so that your middles are nearly touching.

“Thank you, Eddie. They’re really beautiful.”

Your eyes are wide, desperate for him to understand the gravity of the gesture, and how very much it means to you. 

But he knows. He always knows.

He closes the space and pulls you in tight, wrapping his arms around you, so that his hands settle at the small of your back, fingers laced together so as to keep you there forever.

“Do you really like them? ‘Cause when I was at the store, I had a way bigger one at first. It was all huge red and pink flowers. And then a lady in the checkout line told me I should pick a different one, since carnations are apparently tacky.”

You press your face against his chest. “That’s silly. I’d like your carnations too, Eddie.”

“‘They’re filler flowers,’ is what she said.”

You chuckle at his disgruntled tone, and the sound muffled is against his t-shirt. “Nevermind her. And to answer your question, yes, I really like them. I love them.”

Eddie notches a finger under your chin and tilts your head upwards. “I love you,” he tells you for the first time, and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

[en-archive]

hiii, can you write something for enha heeseung with innocent and inexperienced reader? I would love to see what you do with it :))

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 Requests open, thank you ! ──★ ˙ ̟🐇

Heeseung isn't new to sex, he is not someone who can't control himself either, but when it came to you, weirdly he felt himself holding back.

He was taken aback by the request at first, "friends help each other out, right?" but not this way, right? He didn't necessarily go against the request, year of bubbling tension underneath his self control left pushed him to blurt out an unsure yes. All self-control and concern thrown out the window as soon as you had entered his room. Your hair, the way it framed your face and fell on your shoulders, the small curl of your lips every time he greeted you, and the faint powdery sweet scent that lingered on your skin every time you hugged him drove him crazy. He couldn't ignore the carnal desires as a man he felt towards you.

when you did enter the room and looked around, it seemed like any other college kid's. But it was different this was Heeseung, who had many a girls leave his room flustered, with his lovebites on their skin and his essence coating in between their thighs, yet it was different with you. He didn't merely look at you as an object, He had a responsibility to protect you from potential trauma, yet despite that he found his fingers on the hem of your shirt, trying to peel the clothing item off of you when you started looking around unsure.

"I'll take it slow, yeah?' he leaned his forehead on yours and finally connected your lips to his, not wasting another minute to taste you. He had been waiting for this for months now, fuck being friends when you could be fucking every night, when he could touch you on the curves he imagined to be heavenly to hold on to as you descended on his dick. Yet when you told him you were a virgin, he was taken aback. How come someone of your visuals could be a virgin?

You had waited for this moment for so long ,too , you could not deny the sweet taste of his skin on your lips , and the way he so skillfully rid you of your bottoms, only to gently guide you to the bed. Sure you had done some foreplay things before in a random bathroom, but never been penetrated, which scared you. It scared you because the boy in front of you was slowly losing his sanity and patience when his fingers gripped your thigs and almost bent you in three layers. The tent in his pants became unbearable as the his lips collided with your nipples, licking and sucking on the sensitive buds, finally getting to taste you, whimpering as the taste made his mind hazy, his eyes darkening when he finally decided to rid himself of all the unnecessary clothes and take you right here and now.

'Fuck, I might be going back on my word now." he bit his lips as his finger beds made contact with your slick entrance, the action making you jolt and arch your back. The feeling was so foreign, your own rendezvous in the bathroom not even comparable to the delicious pain as Heeseung' s two digits scissored inside you.

"You like that yeah, it feels good?" as much as he was asking, he was begging with these words, trying to get you to come undone on his fingers alone as the other hand gripped your legs over his shoulder, trying his best yet again to not just slam his red and abused tip in your begging core. When he could no longer handle the wetness and the warmth that engulfed his fingers, and you were starting to visibly shake from the pleasure and the bubbling oncoming orgasm, he threw your legs back on his soft mattress, the covers surrounding you in a comforting cocoon.

He takes it slow with you, enters your walls so slow, agonizingly slow, his tip already stretching you out so well, thankful that he used his fingers on you first. Your thighs ache from propping yourself up on his lap, but he does not care as his deadly grip plasters you flush on his chest, his hips bucking up strongly up you, the sensation getting too much for him.

"Fuck this, we aren't friends anymore, whatever this is, this is what we are now" he grunts through thrusts and pants and you have no other choice but to just bury your head in the crook of his neck, letting him nibble on your own.

[tsunami-of-tears]

ACOTAR males reacting to Reader’s piercings

Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris & Rhys

A/N: I have a lot of piercings and thought this would be fun ♡ In my case with the nips they got LESS sensitive (thank goodness honestly) but I know a lot of people have the opposite happen. I have also decided that since they have fae blood - the piercings would heal much quicker and therefore they can do the nasty the same/next day.

Warnings: sexual themes (kinda smutty - especially the last one); piercings featured: ears, belly button, nipples and female genital.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

Cassian - Belly Button

Cassian LOVES your stomach!

Especially after you’ve given him children. He always takes the time to kiss every stretch mark and worship you… 

You didn’t tell him about your plans for your piercing, deciding to surprise him. 

He’s about to ravish you when he lifts your top… His eyes go straight to the red gem at your navel and they light up.

“Babe is that sore?” “A little, but it’s so pretty right?” He strokes your tummy and kisses it all over. “I didn’t think I could like this any more than I already did… I need you,” he lifts you, you wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you to bed.

Azriel - Nipples 

He saw them your first time together, he had the biggest smirk on his face as his fingers felt them through your shirt. 

He looks at you with a raised brow, slowly peeling off your shirt before taking your nipple in his mouth.

They’ve been much more sensitive since they got pierced, so you start squirming as soon as he touches them. 

He delights in toying with you and gives them lots of attention - always licking/sucking/softly biting/pinching/pulling.

And then when the shadows play too? They feel so cold as they swirl over your skin - your nipples get so hard it’s almost painful (in a good way). 

Outside of the bedroom, Azriel would love it when you don't wear a bra and he can see the outline of your jewellery through whatever you’re wearing. He probably gets a bit jealous if you go out with them visible without him, but he’d be so proud of his hot partner and showing you off. 

Lucien - Ears 

Lucien would have multiple earrings, and maybe even an eyebrow piercing on the opposite side of his scar. 

Of course, all his jewellery is gold and he swaps them out to match his outfits. He’s so stylish and you love that, always admiring him. 

You have your lobe piercing, but you want more. You finally decide to get some yourself, not telling Lucien. 

You come home from your appointment and wait for him to notice. 

Lucien is instantly by your side to greet you, he goes to kiss your cheek and stops when he sees the glinting gems and metals adorning your ear.

He smiles so wide, gently taking you in and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “My love, what did you get up to today?” He asks. “I got some more earrings, do you like them?” “They look beautiful, Y/N.” He traces the tip of your pointed ear sending a shiver down your spine. “But you are the most exquisite gem of all.”

After your new piercings heal - Lucien will help you pick out new pieces and change the jewellery for you.

When you attend formal events together, he loves matching with you and takes pride in the subtle details. You always make a handsome couple, but no one appreciates your beauty more than Lucien.

Eris - Nipples

You didn’t always have them, but it was something you’ve thought about for many years.

The man loves titties, especially yours.

When he sees your new bling for the first time, you’re in the bath and he comes to join you after a long day. 

He’ll slip in behind you and wrap his hands around you. He’ll squeeze your breasts in appreciation. They always feel nice, but they feel different today. He spins you around in his lap to get a look. 

“Cauldron boil me, you are going to be the death of me, Y/N.”

Eris will kiss all over you, completely worshipping you, and it’s not long until most of the bath water ends up on the floor.

Rhys - Female Genital 

Rhys always calls you cute star-themed pet names - so it was only fitting to add some sparkle to his favourite part.  

Rhys would be taking his time, loving every inch of you as he strips you down slowly. 

When that last piece of fabric is removed, he is straight on his knees. 

Of course the gem you picked is violet. Rhys looks very smug as he goes down on you - his eyes flicking between the stone and your face. 

He would send images of you writhing under his touch down the bond, so you get a good view of your newest adornment. 

Rhys was already completely obsessed with you, and seeing that colour marked you as his in a new way. From then on he loved taking you in any position that gave him the best view… 

Help I wanna get this piercing now 

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝~

❥Pairing: Damian Al Ghul x Wife!Reader

❥Word count: 1.0k

❥Warning: mentions of blood but very brief, mentions of killing, mentions of kidnapping

❥S: Damian worst fear is losing his beloved wife (I wrote this in an hour. It’s 3:20 am rn☹️)

“This is so unlike you” Damian grumbles under his breath as he lies on a bed, a green silk robe hanging off his shoulder as you tend to a deep wound on his midsection with a needle and thick thread in hand. There’s sweat dripping down his forehead. A part of you feels bad but at the same time, he decided to have you tend to all his wounds after coming home from a mission his mother or grandfather sent him on.

Some days he’ll come home with a scratch or none and other days he’ll come back with gashes and marks that’ll stay permanent on his tan skin. As the needle in your hand digs into his skin once more—it hits a nerve that has him griping your wrist tightly and hissing loudly. Despite being an assassin, despite going through every single hard training process there was, a torture process, he still feels his pain.

“I’m sorry” you watch as Damian lets out a heavy sigh, letting go of your writs and gripping a metal handle beside the bed. “Just a few more so please bear with me” Minutes had felt like hours to Damian once you finished. And with your help, he sits up straight, groaning as we do so. One last step was to wrap the now stitched-up wound with bandages. His arms are up slightly as you reach over his back with the long white strips and bring them back to his front repeating the same process a few more times.

Once done, you help with his robe, gently as ever. You pat away any dust that drapes his shoulders. There’s still anger that clouds his eyes when he looks down at you “What happened?” Your hand grazes his cheek softly before placing your cold palm up against his warm cheek.

“It’s nothing, Zawjati. Come let’s go to bed” Your heart throbs at the sudden name. His hand reaches up to your hand, the sliver hand on his finger shining brightly as you gently peel it off his face, kissing it softly before he places it back down at your side. A visible frown finds its way on your lips as he walks past you with his head down.

“It’s clearly nothing. I can see it in your eyes” It’s a mumble but Damian can hear it loud in clear. Your eyes connect for a moment before you sigh—averting your eyes away from his “Let me clean up first, I’ll head back in a bit”

Damian leaves without saying a word to you. It takes a bit longer, mostly because you take your time cleaning and sanitizing. It takes thirty minutes before you’re heading back to your shared bedroom. You expect him to be asleep after being away for so long, but he’s wide awake when you enter the room, sitting upright on the bed rob long gone and with a book in his hand waiting for you. He places it down, on the nightstand beside him.

“You should be asleep” You shake your head, making your way to your side of the king-size bed.

“I can never sleep peacefully knowing you aren’t by my side” he lifts the silk blanket from your side—waiting for you to get in the covers.

You waste zero time as you jump in, head landing on the soft pillows. A sigh of relief leaves your lips once he throws the blanket over your shoulder. He watches as you snuggle closer, eyes closing. Damian’s arm reaches for the small lamp on his nightstand. The once-dim room turns dark within an instant as he turns it off. The wound on his midsection has Damian getting under the covers carefully. The shuffling stops and the room goes quiet. Damian thinks you are fast asleep, but when he feels your fingers tracing gentle shapes on his biceps he thinks otherwise.

Goosebumps cover his body. He can’t sleep either, not because of you tracing his skin, but because his mission early has him thinking. His target threatened you, threatening to take you from his side permanently. The assassin can handle petty little threats, but when they’re about his wife, all he sees is red. His wound was just the aftermath of his outburst. They’re all dead—every single one of them.

He has nothing to worry about—so why is he still worrying about it?

How many others, how many of his enemies feel the need to target you just so they can take him and the rest of the league down?

How much more does he need to paint his hands red just to keep you safe and sound, far away from harm's way? Damian would never say it out loud, out of fear and out of his reputation, you are the most saint and innocent thing to ever happen to him in his life. Someone so innocent and pure belongs to him, someone who’s the exact opposite—someone who can paint an entire city red with his bare hands if he needed to— have you sound asleep beside him—acting like he can’t break you with just his thumb.

When he looks at you—all his worries disappear just like that. Your breathing clams him down. Why worry, when he has you safe and sound right beside him? He takes one glance at your sleeping figure beside him, so peaceful and beautiful, curled up against his arm. His other arm reaches over to brush a few strands of your hair out of your face. He lets out a small breath as he watches you snuggle closer. He moves a bit, arm sneaking its way under your neck and over your shoulders, head on top of his arm using it as a pillow.

“I promise I would never let anything happen to you, beloved. Not now nor ever” A single kiss goodnight on your forehead and he closes his eyes, the darkness following soon after.

[caelesjjk]

entangled | jjk&kth - teaser

⟶title: entangled

⟶au: marvel au

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle

⟶wc: 1.5k for this

⟶banner: by meee, and yes I’m insane and made a new one

⟶warnings: mentions of blood, kissing, a boob grab and an ass grab, but no actual smut for this, Jungkook calls you Data

⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.

You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?

Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.

What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

⟶ authors note: hello darklings. I know a lot of people have been waiting for this fic, and you’ll have wait just a bit more. But in the meantime, I offer this little teaser to hold you over. A little glimpse of spidey kook. First chapter will be posted in just a few weeks!

Also, if you asked to be on the taglist just now that I tried messing with it for a long ass time and got annoyed lol. I may try again for the actual fic.

“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.

“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.

“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.

“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing it’s just slow.”

“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.

Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers.

“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your bathroom vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.

You are not the universe's strongest soldier.

Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.

“You okay, Data?” He asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.

You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers were really something else.

“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality.

“What?” You sigh.

“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”

“I’m angry with you.” You whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.

“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off his hands and sit them on the countertop before they’re coming up to cup your face.

“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.

“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. He’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth.

“What does it want?”

“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. But no one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours, “but Mr. Kim is working on that part.”

Seokjin Kim, also known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He had helped Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school.

“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” You tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.

“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.

“Two days is a long time?”

“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck making you giggle.

“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.

“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.”

“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.

“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.

“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.

“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.

“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull your hand out of his, but his web shooter from the other wrist shoots a web at your torso, using his inhuman strength to pull you up onto the railing into his arms.

“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.

You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.

And then the ground is no longer beneath your feet and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge and swing you between the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek, “just another minute.”

You keep your eyes squeezed shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to open your eyes just the slightest bit. You see the sun completely setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.

Jungkook shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down.

“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” he kisses you before you can finish the sentence.

“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.

“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building.

“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.

“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.

“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.

“It’s insane…” you melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.

“Bed sounds so good right now…”

“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.

“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.

“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.”

You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body is hot and on the edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.

“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.

[moonlit-imagines]

You’ve Got the Wrong Guy!

Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz x adoptive!reader

warnings: blood/gore. u know. BOP movie icky stuff

a/n: silly little gif

prompt: @jokekinsjoke505: “Hey I need a new adoptive father's Roman and victor because I think this will be a good idea where either they kidnapped the wrong kid and it ended up with Roman and victor adopted the reader or that one day that the reader walks in while victor is peeling off a face and Roman are eating popcorn watching it happened but they just says ' I'm to tired for this shit' before walking out again and then acted like it never happened.”

“Who does this child belong to?” Asked Roman to his mercenary and dear friend, Victor. In front of him was Victor holding you, a small child, calm in demeanor despite being taken from the comfort of your own home and family.

“Maroni.” Victor replied without a single doubt. “That’s who you told me to grab and I grabbed the kid. Just like you asked. One cool kid if you ask me.” Victor continued, noticing Roman getting visibly upset. “I don’t get it, what’s the problem?”

“That!” Roman shouted, startling you enough to start struggling from Victor’s grasp. He gently set you down as Roman tore him a new one. “That’s the problem, you don’t even see your failure!” You stood behind the bleach-blonde man, trying to understand what was happening, you were just waiting for the ice cream you were promised, you were so hungry. “That’s not Maroni’s kid. I don’t even know who that is? Did you take some random child off the street?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I could’ve sworn this is the kid.” Zsasz answered.

“I’m hungry.” You quietly mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear you.

“Yeah, I’ll get you something in just a second.” Zsasz assured you, patting your head gently as Roman kneeled down to your height. You flinched and backed up a step, remembering his blind anger from just moments before. “It’s alright, he’s a good guy.”

“Who are you, dear?” Roman asked you in such a kind manner that you completely forgot how scary he was.

“Y/N.” You simply stated.

“Where are your parents, y/n?” Roman questioned further.

“I don’t know…” You sighed. “I didn’t see them for a few days.” Roman looked up to Victor with worry in his eyes, and was surprised to see a smile on his face.

“Can we keep them?” Victor giggled a bit, even more when you grabbed his leg. “Please?”

“Y/N, would you want to stay with us instead of your parents?” Roman had asked you a very heavy question for a young child, but you had no idea what he would really be asking of you. Of course, you didn’t come from a happy life and this already seemed better. You just wanted a sense of belonging.

“Can I get ice cream?” You innocently requested of them.

“Of course, dear! What kind?”

“Uhhh…chocolate!”

“Victor, go get y/n some chocolate ice cream!” He commanded and Victor ran to fulfill your wish. “So, you’ll stay here?” He asked you once more.

“Yeah!” You exclaimed and hugged him around the neck. He felt his heart melt at your embrace and hugged you back, lifting you up to take you with him to the kitchen. “So, who are you?” You asked him.

“I’m Roman. And my partner over there is Victor.” He smiled to himself. In a matter of moments, he’d created a family. One he’d kill for.

Once you were given your bowl of ice cream, you were sold on this new life. Truth be told, you didn’t have the greatest parents. They were absent and neglectful, which was the exact reason Victor found you all alone. It was still unknown why he mistook you for the child of a notorious mobster. Roman had his suspicions that Victor had planned this, but he laid them aside knowing this was good for them. For you all.

The two of them scrambled to make you a room, promising to buy you anything you would ever want when tomorrow rolled around. You were thrilled to be taken in by these two strange men, forgiving both of them in your young, impressionable mind. Roman, for his anger, and Victor, for kidnapping and misleading you.

“Victor.” Roman lowly said after you were tucked in. “I do apologize for raising my voice at you.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Victor looked down at the table, then felt a hand wrap around his.

“No, I shouldn’t have done it. Especially when you’ve improved our lives so much.” Roman sat beside him. “I don’t even care about that Maroni kid anymore. This is what I care about now. You and y/n.”

“You mean that?” Victor smiled and relaxed his tense body, worried that his mistake would be unforgivable. But Roman always forgave Victor, that was what made them so special. Now they had a new challenge to tackle together: fatherhood.

—————

Years after you’d been adopted by the pair of criminals with high status in the underworld, you’d grown quite accustomed to their behavior. It wasn’t unusual to find Roman frantic or angry, or a bit violent at times. But never toward you, he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you or raise his voice to you. You could do no wrong.

You could also find Victor coming home from a late night, covered in blood—be it his own from a mark or someone else’s from a job—and being very nonchalant about it. It was always, “y/n! I’m glad you’re up! Would you like some ice cream?” They never left the freezer understocked, even if ice cream wasn’t your favorite anymore.

But there was one “normal” you’d never really get used to, even if you were used to their brutality. Roman was a well-respected crime boss, and to keep that respect intact, he had to do some rather gruesome things.

Well, he didn’t have to. It was a personal choice for him, you could almost consider it a hobby at this point.

You’d been looking for your fathers for going on an hour now, needing some permission slip signed for school. You wandered all their possible routes hoping to catch them across one, asking around to any lackey you managed to catch. No one had an answer for you, so you continued on until you stumbled onto a horrible scene.

One father held a segment of his victim’s hanging skin from their face as they shrieked at the top of their lungs. The sound pierced your eardrums and you winced momentarily. Then you saw the other leaned back in his seat with a bag of popcorn in hand, yelling words of encouragement to Roman, as if he needed them.

“You guys are really something.” Your voice startled them both, so much that you nearly had a gun pulled on you.

“Y/N! You scared us, I’m sorry!” Victor jumped up and ran to give you a comforting hug. “I wouldn’t have shot you, I promise.” You patted him on the back.

“I believe you, Dad.” You mumbled into his shoulder. “Can you just sign this thing real quick? Make sure there isn’t any blood on your hands.” Victor pulled away and wiped his hands on his shirt.

“Of course, of course. Roman, are you almost done with that? We should take our dear y/n out for a nice dinner soon, they deserve it.” Victor explained as he grabbed the pen and paper from your hands.

“Sure, that sounds nice. I should be done in a few minutes. Don’t rush me.” Roman continued dragging the knife under his chained victim’s skin and you shook your head at the sight. By now, this didn’t even faze you, it was just another day in your life. Well, maybe the first few times you had nightmares, but you weren’t a little kid anymore. Now, you could care less what your fathers did for work. So long as they gave you the world and their love, life was good.

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @randomfandomimagine // @summersimmerus // @bad4amficideas // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @amirahiddleston // @sydknee624 // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 //

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

Hello! I have a requesttttttt…

Could you possibly write a JJ x Reader where the team just finished a case and are celebrating with a night out, and whilst the fun activities that clubbing/bars include… another woman starts hitting on and dancing with reader and JJ gets really jealous…

Could possibly include JJ and reader dancing together 😝

Can end however you’d like! But I’d love to see your take on this idea!

Of course, if you’re busy or don’t feel like writing this, thats totally cool too, thanks!

I love this idea sm!! And thank you for the request!

Summary: A girl started flirting with you at the bar, JJ get jealous and comes to rescue you

Word Count: 937

Jealous JJ, fluff, kissing

Pairings: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Sorry it isn’t very long!!

Reader pov:

I’m sitting at my desk filling out an after action report for the case we just closed when I hear a door swing open and Rossi walk out.

“Okay I’m so done with reports and I’m sure you all are too, who’s up for a drink? I’m buying the first round!” He walks down to the lift after saying this and we all collectively scramble to put away our things.

“Ugh I’m so happy he saved us from that, our desks are so far away it’s u fair I couldn’t even talk to you.” I hear a familiar voice complain from behind me. I turn around to see my gorgeous girlfriend JJ.

“Agreed, now, let’s go I really need a drink.” She giggled at my response and clasped my hand in her own and we headed out the bau with the rest of the team.

Time skip to when they’re at the bar:

JJ pov:

“SHOTS OMG LETS DO SHOTS!” I hear Penelope yell over the loud music.

“Ooh yeah let’s do shots!” I hear Emily respond to her. They both head off to the bar to go get their respective drink while I stay seated still nursing my cocktail. Y/n was sitting to my right, Rossi was across from us, Spencer was next to him and the rest of the team was either at the bar or on the dance floor.

“Come dance with me Jayj, please!” My girlfriend pleaded with me, using her best puppy eyes. In all honesty I was far too tired to dance right now, and my cocktail hadn’t quite kicked in yet.

“Maybe in a bit babe, alright?” I hear her huff at my answer but comply nonetheless.

“Okay fine, I’m just going to dance with Derek first a bit then!” She cheerfully skips off and starts dancing with Derek. I giggle at the fact she peeled a girl off him just so they could dance together, he would not be happy about that.

I sit back in my chair a bit and watch as Penelope and Emily come back with the shits they ordered, clearly not just for themselves.

“We knew you’d say no to shits so we got you one anyway!” Emily explained as she sat a small glass in front of each of us, excluding Spence obviously. I put my glass down and picked up the smaller one with a questionably coloured liquid inside it but downed it with the rest of them anyway.

“Oh my god that’s.. oh god that strong.” I wince as the drink burn my throat. As I take a second to readjust to the sensation I look around and see y/n taking a break by the bar, but not with Morgan. A blonde who I’ve never seen before was cozying up to her side and whispering things in her ear. I could tell she was trying to ignore her but it still made my blood boil.

“Oh no, JJ’s jealous!” Rossi called out to everyone. Collectively all eyes then landed on my girlfriend and this woman at the bar.

“Oh damn JayJ she’s got your girl, what you gunna do?” I hear Morgan say to me as he walks up to the table.

“I’m going to wait a bit, see what happens.” Everyone shared a look that I didn’t care to analyse right now and went back to staring down this random blonde and sipping my drink.

After y/n was handed her drink she went back to the dane floor, I’m assuming to look for Derek, but instead she was met with two hands in her waist and a girl practicing grinding on her. That is my breaking point. She was visibly uncomfortable, what is with this girl?

“JJ!” Y/n shouted as she saw me approaching. I smiled sweetly at her and then glared at the woman now standing next her, with an arm resting on her hip.

“Uhm, who’s this?” The snarky girl asked. Y/n tried to sneak away from her to me but she was having none of it.

“I’m her girlfriend who are you?” The look of shock the flashed across this girls face was priceless. Instantly she let y/n/n go and she walked off.

“Hey are you okay?” I ask as she practically falls into my arms.

“Yeah I’m fine, just hated her.” I laughed at this then said, “You and me both. You’re mine, and no one else’s.” She looked into my eyes and gave me a small peck on the cheek and began to sway, with a shit eating grin on her face.

I smile at her antics and sway along with her. I pull her in by her hips and her arms find their way around my neck pulling my head to meet hers in a sweet kiss. Our lips moved together and it was like the world around us was drowned out. As if we were the only two people in this place, y/n/n had that effect on me. I tugged on her bottom lip and like clockwork she parted her lips to give my tongue entrance. We explored each other’s mouths like it was the first time again.

As we pulled away she smiled at me when her favourite song came on and her face lit up.

“OH MY GOD JAY WE HAVE TO DANCE TO THIS ONE!” I agree with her and we begin dancing together. Not with any real coordination, just enjoying ourselves.

[ramp-it-up]

Wingman

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Dodger is Chris’s best wingman.

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d, RPF. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Fluff, lil bit of angst, pregnancy body issues, pregnancy sex, nipple play,  Daddy kink, p in v, creampie, after care, comfort fic.

A/N: This is in response to an ask from @bloomingpresent​

This is part of the How I Met Your Father Series found here.

NOTICE: I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You were about to be in a bad mood. You had about 10 minutes to get some food and you’d turn into a different person. You turned to look at Chris.

“You’re a thot and a slut.”

It was beginning.

“Ma’am!” 

Chris gave you a wide eyed look.

“This is a Wendy’s.”

You scowled at the response.

You were, in fact, in a Wendy’s drive through, having felt an irresistible urge for a frosty and fries. After going to the dog park, Chris indulged you and pulled into the fast food chain.

The line was interminably long.

Dodger was resting his snout on Chris’ shoulder and you were snapping pictures as usual. You went to IG to post them and saw the ones Chris had posted from the dining room table that morning. That’s when you saw it.

You held the picture up to Chris’s face and he looked at it.

“Are you calling our dog, our beloved Dodger, a thot and a slut?”

Chris raised his eyebrow at you and adjusted his NASA hat. You looked into Dodge’s soulful eyes and patted his head.

“Dodger’s not going to get you out of this one. You know good and damn well what you did.”

You huffed and crossed your legs away from Chris.

Chris looked down and grabbed your thigh with his hand, uncrossing your legs by force and spreading them wide, but not moving his hand from just above your knee.

Anticipation made you want to squirm, but you remained resolute and continued your scrolling. When he saw that you really might be a little annoyed, he sighed.

“What are you on about Sweetie?”

You twisted your mouth, pulled up the pic again and pointed at it. 

“That! That knob is clearly visible through your shorts, you… you… thirst trapper! And using Dodger to be your wingman, tuh!”

You were getting yourself worked up.

Chris squinted at the image and then rolled his eyes.

“You can barely see my… knob.” He chuckled at your euphemism.  “I  just thought it was a good pic of Dodge and wasn’t thinking about it being visible. You’re just a pervert.”

You were really getting heated now.

“Everyone has seen your dick Chris, and all your hoes know what it looks like through your pants. I see the thirsty thots commenting on all your pics, Darling.” 

You gave him a saccharine smile and the sarcasm in your voice was not to be mistaken.

Dodger had shifted to your shoulder, trying to calm you down. He really was a good wingman for Chris.

You were almost at the window, so you turned your body away from Chris again and glared out the window. Chris knew enough to be quiet at this point. 

“Frosty and fries?”

You heard the attendant at the window and smelled the food, so you turned toward them.

“Thank You.”

Chris was paying and taking the food, and the attendants’ eyes were wide.

“Holy Shit! You’re Chris Evans!”

“Yes–”

Chris responded and was cut off.

“And you’re his—” 

Their eyes went down to your belly, which was clearly visible even though it was ensconced in Chris’s Petunias t-shirt from The Losers.

“Oh my God you’re–”

All at once three things happened, the attendant got their phone out, Dodger jumped up to block the view on the driver’s side window, and Chris exclaimed, “Thank you, keep the change!” while peeling out of the drive through lane.

It wasn’t until you got into the driveway and Chris let Dodger out of the car that you two looked at each other and cracked up laughing.

“I never thought I’d pay 20 bucks for a frosty and fries….”

“The look on their face…” You started laughing, then stopped, suddenly. “Oh shit, I have to pee…”

Chris came around and helped you into the house, your snack discarded on the kitchen counter as you went into the master bedroom. You’d eaten most of it on the way home anyway.

You decided to go ahead and take a hot shower, dreading the conversation. It was surely going to get out now that you were expecting. Chris would be upset. He was waiting for you on the couch.

“I have some menus. What do ya want for dinner?”

You smiled at Chris’s Boston accent and snuggled into your robe, then ordered what you wanted to eat. Then, you lay back in Chris’ arms as both your boys gave you love. Dodger was on your lap, ear on your belly, listening to the twins move. It was one of his favorite things to do. Chris’s hand was where Dodge’s head wasn’t, feeling for his children's kicks. 

All you felt was surrounded by love.

Chris was kissing your neck and whispering in your ear.

“I called the publicist while you were showering and told them we had to get on a pregnancy announcement soon…”

You groaned.

“I’m sorry I insisted on Wendy’s and then the whole pic thing…I–”

“Stop apologizing. You were hangry. You’re carrying life. Double time. We were lucky to get six months of peace. Besides, I should have brought some snacks.”

Chris chuckled, and you realized he was not upset at all. You shifted and turned so you could kiss him. Dodger knew what was up. He got off your lap and disappeared.

“I love you so much, Daddy. You’re too good to me…”

You could feel Chris get hard underneath you.

You smiled into your kiss. 

“I can’t believe you still find me attractive. I am a whale.”

“You are 6 months pregnant with twins. That I put there. When you let me cum inside you. Probably the very first time we had sex. That’s so fucking hot, Angel.”

Chris got you told in that sexy voice of his.

Chris reached for the tie in on the robe and your breasts spilled out. He picked up the swollen globes and licked his lips before he bent down to worship them.

He had you becoming a whimpering, wet mess on the couch before he stood up and led you back to the bedroom.

He raised his eyebrow as you giggled. 

“What?”

You pointed at his black shorts, which were greatly distended at the moment, comically so.

He glanced down and smiled back up at you.

“Yeah. You get me there Mrs. Evans.”

He pulled you into his arms again and gave you a kiss and then hastily took off his clothes. Then, he came toward you again and ran his hand down the length of your body while looking into your eyes.

“Can I be inside you? That's all I wanna do right now. You are a goddess.”

You blushed at Chris’ compliments, bit your lip, and nodded. You lay down on your side on the bed and Chris just watched you for a minute. 

“So beautiful…”

Chris lay down behind you and grabbed your thigh, lifting it up and open so that he could enter you. His bulbous head breeched your extra wet canal, and was seated there. After a few strokes and slides and swipes of your clit, you were shuddering at his girth, and at the feeling of such fullness and pleasure, which surely you should be used to by now.

“I’ll never get over how we fit together…”

Chris was reading your mind as he started to slowly rock inside you. He groaned as he picked up your thigh, and the pace a little. He was literally gliding inside you.

“No matter how many have seen me baby, this dick is always only for you. My one. My only. My Angel.”

“Oh Chris….” 

You murmured, well on your way to heaven as your husband lit you up from the inside out.

“Mmmmmm. So fucking tight Angel. Does it feel good?”

Chris was gripping your breast and lightly rubbing the sensitive nipple. He watched your arch your back and how your mouth became an erotic ‘O’ for him.

“Damn, that mouth Angel. So so good. Need something to suck?”

You nodded vigorously, halfway hoping that he’d pull out and let you, and halfway hoping that he’d stay inside you forever.

He gave you his thumb and you took it, swirling your tongue around it.

“Ssssshhhhitttt!”

Chris’s stroke paused, and then stuttered. He bent down and sucked your neck as you felt him pulse inside you.

“You’re trying to make me cum. Aren’t you?

“Yes Daddy. Paint my walls.”

“Oh my god. Unghhhhh.”

Chris’s cock pulsed harder inside you without him moving, and then he rolled you over, lifted your hips, and gained greater leverage to fuck you right.

Your brain short circuited, because the increased blood flow had you cuming almost immediately.

Chris pistoned his spend into you as you melted around him, and you both ended in a heap on the bed. You were soon fast asleep and awoke when Chris opened your legs to clean you with a warm washcloth.

He kissed your forehead as you drifted off again, that smile brightening your life. You slept until you smelled food, which caused you to dress quickly in another of Chris’s shirts and panties and pad into the kitchen barefoot.

You walked in on a private conversation between Chris and Dodger.

“Our plan worked, buddy! She noticed and I scored. High five!”

Dodger reached up and touched Chris’s palm.

Chris’s smile faded as he heard you clear your throat and turned to see you scowling at him.

“Hi Angel. You hungry?”

Feedback. Yes. 🤩

[marikosenwrites]

I NEED SOME RANPO FLUFF PLEASEEEEE

cuddling with Ranpo?? Mornings with Ranpo?? Helping him get ready for work???

Thank you I love your writing so much 😭🥰

Have a good day/night!!!

sen's notes: OKAY ANON IM GOING TO DO THIS FOR YOU I LOVE RANPO AHHHHHHHHHHHHH also thanks for the support!! imma just do morning cuddles and helping him getting ready for work which is basically everything and YEAH LETS GO (also its short)

(im getting over being lazy with writing (not really) but the fact that schools starting again and i'm too tired to do anything productive except writing on tumblr bc i love yall) also its finally not a head canon

warnings: PURE FLUFF NO ANGST (i cant 😭)

gn!reader (forsure)

ranpo edogawa

sunlight broke through the curtains attacked ranpo's eye lids, prying his eyes open. once he opened his eyes, he yelped from the brightness. "sugar, sugar, i'm blind!" ranpo cried out to your peaceful sleeping figure.

"what...ranpo, you can't become blind with nothing getting into our dorm overnight," you rub your eyes and squint them to see better. "must be the sunlight."

you stand up to walk to the curtains and close them until the light wasn't in your room anymore and only the light from the lamp remains.

"oh, much better!" he opens his eyes, finally. "sugar, can we sleep a bit more? it's only eight am, after all."

"no, ranpo, you should say, 'it's already 8,' because it's time for work." you sigh as you sit on the bedside, beside your boyfriend who was shifting back into the covers.

"pleaseee~? only 15 minutes?" ranpo pleas, his emerald eyes opening.

"fine, fine, no more than that," you said, as you went back into the covers with open arms for ranpo to cuddle into.

fifteen minutes could pass quickly, for all you know, but these minutes with ranpo seem to pass slowly. quickly, you press the 15-minute button on your phone, mentally preparing yourself in time for the shrilling alarm sound after 15 minutes.

but for this occasion, time doesn't seem to go your way. in what seemed like 5 minutes, the alarm rang and woke you and ranpo up from your peaceful sleep. "ugh...already 15 minutes?" ranpo whines, his arms and legs flailing.

"it's already 15 minutes. c'mon, your work's waiting for you to tend to it. at the very least, i'll help you get ready." ranpo's ears perked up at the idea of that.

"ooh, yay! let's do that, then," immediately, the man took his partner's hand and led them to the bathroom, where he peeled off his clothes, leaving his boxers visible.

"you said you were going to help me get ready," the raven complained.

"right, right." you grab his white dress shirt from the closet and put it on him, leaving it to him to button it up. "you're wearing your pants by yourself, though."

"aw, that was disappointing!" he says, pouting as you hand him his overcoat.

"in return, i'll shower you with kisses on your face."

"yaaaaaaaaay!"

you grab your own hoodie and sweatpants to wear, changing into them quietly as ranpo stares at you. "...what?"

"nothing," he whistles, "just looking at how...good you look. but you look good in every outfit, i know it!"

"ranpo!" your face turns red.

"where are my kisses? you promised. i even put on my own tie." ranpo angrily puts his hands on his hips, although you could tell by his tone that he was only joking to be mad.

"coming, coming~" you sigh happily as you go over to cup his cheeks and kiss him all over his face.

a kiss on the bridge of his nose, the tip, his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, and last but not least, his lips. the tender feeling stays on your lips and his for a few seconds, although you know that time is ticking, so you part.

"okay, i'm satisfied! but you gotta give me more when we get to the agency!" ranpo smiles as bright as the sun.

"alright, you big baby," you laugh and put on your shoes at the door, with ranpo trailing behind you and copying your actions.

"we're dropping off the bakery to get some bread, right? i haven't eaten breakfast just yet." ranpo opens the door.

"yeah, we are," you exit quickly before he can close the door on you, locking the door too.

"okay, to the bakery!"

ending notes: heyy so it's a bit short, i know, i tried my best. anyhow, i hoped you enjoyed reading!

©all banners, dividers, and stories are made by marikosenwrites and the pictures in it are from pinterest. i own none of the BUNGO STRAY DOGS/BUNGOU STRAY DOGS/文豪ストレイドッグス characters mentioned here.

[redstringraven]

alright, so after a thorough replay of the space-arc and a slightly less thorough comb of the invasion-arc here're some loose observations and thoughts regarding triceraton tattoos. i'm not touching triceratons featured in fast forward because... i don't have interest in that fjkldjks. my apologies.

this is mostly for myself, but you're of course more than welcome to use it as a resource, reference, whatever tickles your fancy. if i missed something, feel free to tell me!

there does seem to be some pattern with rank, so i'm gonna start with "low-rank" and make my way up the ladder.

citizens

we don't get to see a lot of triceraton citizens, and basically all of them are background fodder save for zed and raz (the games commentators). from what i can tell, none of them have tattoos on neither their eyes nor their arms--on the ones with bare arms, anyway. it's probably safe to assume they don't have them on their chests because those seem all-star specific.

rebellion

this is where the tattoo thing gets a bit weird--as in, i don't know if they're actually facepaint that can be removed, or if these are all citizens or green soldiers who've not earned their military tattoo yet. traximus still has his tattoo, but none of his rebellion soldiers have the ones we'll later see on every soldier as well as prison guards. it's definitely possible citizens joined the rebellion, but trax had also mentioned in the arena that he still had friends in the ranks. are they not there? did they remove their tattoos? am i over-analyzing a cartoon beyond what the creators considered? (it's that one).

you can click on the screenshot to make it a little bigger but the bottom-left shot shows an actual solder beside a rebellion soldier, the former's tattoo is barely visible but there. their concept art doesn't have a tattoo, and i didn't see any in-show who had one... but, i did more skim through the invasion-arc, so it's possible i missed one. lemmie know if i'm wrong.

prison guards

all prison guards seem to have a single, thick red-line tattoo over their right eye. the ends point toward the backs of their heads. not much to talk about here. the two in the second-to-bottom-left screenshot are missing theirs, but i'm going to assume this is an animation error.

--also, sidebar, i don't think the blue ""tattoos"" prisoners have are remotely the same type of thing, so i don't think that'd apply to my confusion over none of the rebellion soldiers having tattoos.

soldiers

here's once again where the definition of 'tattoo' gets a little blurry, because if tattoos are a sign of rank and then your rank changes... what do. maybe since triceratons already have advanced technology--and tough skin--they have... a solid form of tattoo removal. again, though, i don't think their tattoos are the same as the ""tattoos"" prisoners receive, so i doubt they'd just peel off?? if that were possible, you'd also think they would have removed traximus's tattoo after he was thrown into the games as another way to shame/derank him, too.

so, your basic and most common soldier seems to have two narrow maroon lines over their right eye. the ends do not point in any direction, they're just lines. they're thin enough that they can be very hard to see if the camera's at a distance, but they're still there--just hard to capture in a screenshot partially due to the quality i'm working with.

next is an ensign soldier, which is basically a low-ranking officer. i think we only see one of these guys (he's leading the group who find the turtles as stowaways at the beginning of s2ep3, the big house). his tattoos are once again over the right eye, maroon/purple, thicker than a soldier's tattoo, and the peak of the outer-most line has a point. for a moment, i thought that maybe you'd build on the tattoo as you ranked, but traximus and mozar are gonna kind of throw that theory out the window when we get to them.

there's also this guy from s2ep5, triceraton wars. he's labeled as "strike team leader" on his concept art, and getting a visible shot of his tattoo in-show is very frustrating and not helped by the fact it looks like they goofed his color palette, too. his tattoo is over the right eye (like the previous soldiers), red, and it's a curved line with ends that hook toward the front of his face. it's the most similar to traximus's tattoo that we see.

...also, this episode eludes to the fact that "slag" is a triceraton swear word, as zanramon uses it both as an exclamation of frustration and calls the strike team "slag brains". he could also just be calling them all stony waste matter, tho, so. do with that what you will.

there's also THESE GUYS from the invasion-arc in s3, and they confuse me because the invasion-arc not only introduces this new uniform design i don't see anywhere in the concept art that i've collected, but these soldiers have like. no tattoos. and it can't be an animation error because their lack of tattoo was consistent for any wearing this suit design. monza ram steals this suit from one of the soldiers, and looted soldier who reports back to zanramon later doesn't have a tattoo.

i wonder if these guys are like... more engineers than they are soldiers. we mostly see them in the docking bay or in the control room where the boys learn don's location on the homeworld. they're just armed because they'd stand in the way of anyone attempting to infiltrate the homeworld (or escape it), but i don't think i saw any of them leave the vessel itself.

gruell

gruell is an odd one because he has the same maroon tattoos as your common soldier--two narrow lines over the right eye--but he additionally has a tattoo on his right arm. it's of course possible that other soldiers also have this tattoo and that it's just hidden by their sleeves, but if tattoos are a show of rank or status you'd think it'd be somewhere more visible? maybe arm tattoos are additional signals of status when soldiers are in their civvies or something.

regardless, gruell's arm tattoo is the only of its kind we see: it appears to be red ink: an upright triangle that breaks into two longer lines where the top line hooks up toward the triangle and the bottom line hooks down toward another triangle, albeit this one is upsidedown. i'm not sure if this is meant to be an abstract design with the usual triceraton fondness of triangles and jagged lines, or if's maybe a representation of a bi-ringed planet? homeworld before they blew it up oopsie-doopsy? who knows.

monza ram + the all-stars

okay, if there are ANY anomalies on this list, it's these guys. none of them have anything resembling the soldier nor prison guard tattoos we've previously seen.

monza ram is the most unique; he doesn't seem to have any body tattoos, but he does have two thick red tattoos (or one big tattoo?) that rises from his jaw on both sides of his face and breaks into two spikes, one ending before it reaches his eye and the other 'cutting through' the eye and peaking on his brow. it covers the back third of his face, right in front of where his frill starts.

the other three all-stars have a much more narrow tattoo on either side of their face that looks like a jagged scratch, another narrow tattoo across the backs of their necks, then an extremely long one that seems to wrap diagonally around their back and end on their pecks. this is the only instance of tattoos that aren't maroon or red, too, as one all-star has blue tattoos and another has brown.

we unfortunately don't really know anything about the all-stars, just that they seem to be separate from the gladiator slaves, are undefeated (before the turtles), and after they lost their first fight zanramon had them imprisoned, where traximus would later free and recruit them. none of them have soldier tattoos. i know the triceratons love battle, so i wonder if they're more like the career tributes in the hunger games. they volunteered to be gladiators rather than were made to be them. eh. *shrugs*

commander mozar

title revoked because i said so, mozar is frustrating because he doesn't have an eye tattoo that we can see. those marks under his eye-patch are more likely from the injury that cost him his eye since they're a darker color than his skin tone, but where shit gets tricky is that traximus was a commanding officer before he was gladiator'd. so, it's possible that mozar has a tattoo identical to trax's under that eye-patch, and we just can't see it.

important to note, however, that his right eye--the eye where all other soldiers have had a tattoo--is bare. that's where the whole... building on your tattoo as you rank up theory kind of falls to the wayside. he technically SHOULD have one, but he doesn't.

he also has an arm tattoo, but it's on his left arm. again--he might also have one on his right arm, but it's sleeved. his left arm is only visible because his prosthetics must require a shorter sleeve. the tattoo on his arm is red: the top piece is a crescent shape lying on its side so it opens upward, then a long line that dips into a crescent shape so it frames the crescent above it, and finally an upsidedown triangle under the lowest point of the middle curve. this is much more of an abstract design than gruell's, idk what this could be.

traximus

as with mozar, traximus complicates the ranking up theory because he also lacks any tattoos on his right eye; his tattoo is on his left eye, and it appears to be reddish, zig-zagging down from his horn, across his brow, down over his eye, back along his cheek and then down to the corner of his mouth.

he doesn't have an arm tattoo on his right arm like gruell does, and if he has a tattoo on his left arm like mozar, it's covered by either his commanding officer sleeve or his gladiator armor. if mozar's tattoo has any connection to his ranking as a commander, it's possible trax has it, too. we just never get the chance to see it. pity.

the council

the council is a main indication that tattoos might be less a show of social status and more military or warrior specific, because none of the council members have visible tattoos (ignore mozar, he forgot to wear pink last wednesday idk why he's sitting with us). kind of helps me lean a bit more into my engineer theory from earlier.

prime leader (zanramon)

no visible tattoos. none whatsoever. pathetic. let's be real, he'd probably start crying before the needle even grazed his skin.

if you've made it to the end: thank you ONCE AGAIN for coming along with me on one of my dives into triceraton bullshittery. i'm sorry, i will do it again.

[mecachrome]

extremely 👀👀 about this kind/nice spectrum u brought up and how alex oscar lando and anyone else on the grid are placed on the grid..... would love to know more.........

hi there!!! :D omg yes i would love to talk more about this, though of course disclaimer that these are my Personal Interpretations and i love to spout nonsense on the internet LOL. i'll just expand on oscar + lando + alex some more since frankly i don't know all the other driver lore Like That and i don't want to overstep in my analysis! also i'm deathly afraid of chirlies. ok let's move on

to start off... i think the way we talk about celebrity personas obviously requires some generalization + projection since we can only extrapolate what is already being consciously disseminated, and so although i frequently talk about the kind/nice dichotomy or someone's capacity for sympathy vs. empathy (which is kind of a parallel assessment imo) we are of course all complex people who contain multitudes, and i think it's mostly just interesting to examine strictly in the context of racing & racing mentality... if that makes sense!

also wrt landoscar's personalities → one thing i feel very, VERY strongly about despite their differing surface-level interests and social profiles (read: different flavors of off-track sports, both of them being gamers but to diverging levels of visibility, lando's higher degrees of hyperfixation, etc.) is that at their baseline they are extremely similar people, and honestly even very similar drivers and racing "characters," which ultimately kind of colors most of my analysis. if we peel back the layers then oscar and lando are both functional introverts who've been very well-nurtured by similarly robust, persisting, and loyal support systems—oscar spending 99% of his time off-track with his longtime gf, lando's best mates all being from his karting days, their dads being equally objective about yet also supportive of their careers, jon having trained lando since he was like 5 feet tall, etc.—so to me the overarching difference is that they have diametric approaches to how they externalize their convictions, and then obviously since that's what we see/hear day in & day out it generates the existing rift between their media images. per lando on btg: 

"Oscar is extremely down to earth. A bit like me, just a very normal guy who's in Formula 1, just a guy that loves to drive cars and compete against people, and that's it."

(incoming egregious amounts of lando psychoanalysis...) despite oscar being the only driver i truly rep, i've always found lando's psyche soooo fascinating because he invites such extreme emotion in people (be it positive or negative), and i think part of it does go back to the idea of being nice vs. kind and ultimately the lens through which his intentions are interpreted by other people. in real-people fandom this is always interesting since it ends up becoming an unconscious exercise in how we perceive "sincerity" in others, even though the underlying paradoxical truth is obviously that any such assessment must always be dispersed and consolidated via a parasocial system (and thus everything is held relative to our own individual value systems... This is totally not the point of the ask. SORRY FOR THE MILLION TANGENTS) anyway as an extremely disillusioned sports fan i actually have a lot of time for lando despite how much visceral judgment he generates in quite a few people, which is totally fair since everyone is fully privy to feeling however they want to feel about any celebrity and i am not here to convince them otherwise lol. but that's just me!

i think to me the thing about lando is that there is almost zero pretense to his character, which some dislike because they find his bluntness off-putting, but imo just means his intentions are generally straightforward and easily digestible. sure, he lacks the spoken filter to not come off as occasionally callous, but at the end of the day i genuinely believe that he's an inherently thoughtful (and "kind") person, especially within the insular system of professional motorsport and the many mental pitfalls that accompany it. a symptom of this is how willing he is to resist more gracious media responses and how very inwardly critical he can be in specifically self-motivating ways, the latter of which sometimes gets misinterpreted due to the rigid yet overwhelmingly popular framework of what constitutes a competitive racing mentality. but like... to Me, lando is just entirely what you see is what you get, bad parts included, and he has zero intention of making excuses for that or pretending to be anything otherwise. which i enjoy!

and which again also goes back to the idea of niceness. (honestly the tl;dr for most of lando's pr scandals is just Oh okay so it's illegal to be neurodivergent now? but i'm trying to be normal so let me not just say that.) a good example is the entire debacle of saying he felt no sympathy for daniel at mclaren in 2022, because i think it elucidates a sort of kindness in objectivity that he very plainly participates in—to lando, being a top-performing athlete means never searching for excuses to soften the brunt of one's failures, himself included, and equally that there is no point playing sorry in front of journalists or trying to reshape their narrative scrutiny since at the highest level of competition any bold-faced externalization of "sympathy" is really just pity. and what point is there in telling someone else that you Feel Bad for their skill issue/struggles when the moment you extend that sentiment you essentially debase their position as a direct competitor and therefore disrespect them even more?

"I want to be the best in the world, I want to prove myself to people. But I've never had the mentality or the confidence to say that or feel like I need to do anything more than normal to show it to people. Do I have to do anything to go over the top and show that to prove it? I don't think so. People say you've got to be brutal and you've got to have this certain mentality. But I just don't think it's true at all. I think you’ve just got to get in the car and do the best you can."

i think the Separation of Church (treating everyone exactly as they are on-track, just another car to size up or keep at bay) and State (being friendly, supportive, and altogether well-regarded by other drivers off-track) is a primary tenet of lando's personality, and it's something he achieves by valuing kindness over niceness. you know the lando/maxf quadrant interview where lando is like: i'm not friends with you because of your achievements in life... i just care about your personality! and he's mainly saying it to take the piss out of him but he also 100% does mean that shit. that's the crasyinsane part about lando to me... god i'm so sorry i need to not go on for a million years but PERSONALLY, i think lando is very much the type of person who can go through an experience, or otherwise see someone close to him go through an experience, and approach it very empathetically to the point he continues carrying on this internal conviction about it even when he's survived or grown past it. like even as someone who mostly believes in Death to Relatable Marketing, i find it really interesting when lando talks about mental health in sports because we get to see both a) the fact that he's grown so much in his own mental resilience from his rookie self in 2019 to who he is now, but also b) that he continues to believe strongly in rejecting the presumed archetype of a successful formula 1 driver, and is steadfast in surfacing that even though... honestly? lando nowadays is a very consistent, well-rounded, and efficient talent who frankly doesn't experience nearly as much of the unproductive mentally-spiraling self-criticism that used to impact his performances to a far more pronounced degree when he was younger and rough around the edges. yet he still feels compelled to affirm that there is No One way to be an athlete (which is significant because "mentality" is such a harped-on concept in all sports, and everyone is always trying unfailingly to extrapolate performance-related projections via vague and completely subjective intangibles to a notably unempirical degree!!) because he does care, deeply, about how people enter and succeed in motorsport. honestly i always feel kind of iffy bringing up commentary re: Women In Motorsport because it often sounds unnecessarily adulatory, but at least in recent times i think he's also shown a decent amount of grace when talking about female fans, girls in karting, that one time he was like Bruh who are you? @ that misogynistic reporter, which...... i'm not going to say majorly influences my opinion of him, but imo being willing to quickly shut someone down like that is an anti-niceness to a productive end that i appreciate, since i think many personalities would kind of just smile bemusedly and try to quickly move on in the conversation.

tl;dr lando thinks feeling bad for people is useless and will never give you that one tidy sympathetic soundbite, but he does care for people vividly, especially off-track, which to him is the only place kindness really matters anyway. when you look at maxf (and i know this is mainly a portrait of codependency unique to their friendship but i do think it reflects his love languages in general) whose career cratered because he mentally couldn't handle the pressure, lando's response was literally to unfailingly engage in failcore househusband chores for him like leaving handwritten notes in his 3rd grade girl handwriting and ironing his clothes on stream........ which... i could go on forever but again. separation of church and state!!!

anyway with oscar on the other hand, i honestly think most things in his life kind of just exist as a function of motorsport LOL. and that he likes surrounding himself with people of similar interests/intellectual level/skillsets, down to his partner studying engineering and wanting to work in the same industry as him....... again, i think 814's baseline characters are Very similar and that they're both great team players with complementary professional approaches, so this is not a knock on either of their personalities, but imo lando is just generally more outwardly sentimental and has also had to do a lot of conscious growing up in the past ~4 years to become more well-rounded wrt off-track interests, whereas oscar basically came onto the grid as this already fully-realized product with far fewer dependencies who is just nonchalantly like, I see my family 3 weeks a year and my sisters just think i'm their lame older brother and don't care about my career at all, but i'm fine with that and i'd make all the same sacrifices i've made over and over again to get where i am!!! also re: oscar's abject lack of interest in engaging with fans one-on-one, an easy example is how lando genuinely values/treasures the friendship bracelets he gets and wears them consistently whereas oscar is just like. Erm. i respect it but that is not for me ✋😭 he's nice about fan things because he understands how much fan support and consumerist interest enable the circus that is formula 1 but he doesn't really value any of it much past the surface-level pleasantries......

why is this answer so long............... idk if you want to hear anything more about alex but i think he's very similar to oscar in terms of this measured external niceness/quiet ruthlessness, especially wrt how they weather team politics, interact with media (noted red bull marketing hater alex albon), and tend to simply Do The Thing To Do The Thing. alex is especially interesting because if you watch his high performance pod it reveals sooooo much of his growth over the years and his current mental framework ("i was having to be selfless, and it didn't really agree with me that much") and frankly even just the way he speaks about himself is fascinating to me but i digress!!! i do think much of lando's tactless impulse yet also apparent kindness comes from his considerably privileged background and the fact that he was shown a lot of Realistic But Also Unconditional Support and thus never had his career actively threatened growing up. so even though he's had to learn to not mentally catastrophize at the f1 level, he didn't undergo the reckoning alex did with his mother/losing rb's team backing/etc., which alex mentions in this podcast as specifically triggering his insatiable desperation to prove himself.......... and so on. alex and oscar to me are both quite similar in how they let more combative thoughts simmer and are very well-trained in responding palatably to the media, but they're also going to resist relating themselves too much to other people's struggles because That Is Not Their Problem, and at the end of the day oscar is uh.... sure he has a lot of appreciation for mclaren and has called prema a family before, but he really only wants to win for himself and is less inclined than lando is to romanticize the spirit of the Team. and so when he says things like "for me, there’s just not any point, especially in self-deprecation, destroying yourself in front of the media," it's a Niceness because his assessments are always entirely self-absorbed in the most productive of senses, as in he truly only cares about what he himself is doing and is never going to waste time worrying about or comparing himself to his competitors' mental approaches!

does any of this make sense. please excuse the monstrous rambling 😭 but also please feel free to follow up with your own takes/lore about any driver if you'd like to, or to tell me that i'm absolutely wrong if you'd like, because i always love to hear about these things!!! :3c

[metalnecklace]

Tanlines

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Words: 4402

Warnings: Smut (mdni), Plus size reader, Use of y/n, Daddy Kink (I’m so sorry, I’m ovulating and this got away from me), Unsafe sex (p in v, wrap it up, folks), Finishing inside, Oral (f/m receiving), Spit play, like, lots of it (again, I’m so sorry), Assplay, Tit/Nipple play, Titty fucking, Reader is described as having a larger chest size, Kinda same with ass (She is plus sized after all), Begging, Praise, Marking/Hickies, A bit of fluff at the end, Javi isn’t an ass or tits man, he’s an everything man change my mind, Slight mention of heaven/religious beliefs (not sure if this is a warning but just in case).

Notes: I don’t know what happened, but this is all filth. Thank you for being so patient for this! To be read directly after Sunburn. I tried to make this as non-descriptive as possible in terms of skin colour. She’s tan now, but has visible tan lines. If there are any issues with descriptions or inclusivity please let me know, and this goes for all my fics.

Summary: Javi can finally make up for some lost time.

Masterlist

Sunburn

Yeah. They were embarrassing as hell.

The stark contrast of crisp skin next to skin that hadn’t been touched by the sun was absolutely embarrassing.

And Javi fucking loved it.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned while pulling the straps of my tank top off my shoulders. “Look at you.”

It had been a few weeks of pain, peeling, and pouting. All I wanted was for Javi to touch me, but I had to wait for my skin to fully heal. Then when it started peeling I was just too grossed out to let him touch me too much. By the end of it we were both so desperate for each other.

I had been out in the garden for the day while he was helping his father. When it was finally supper time he practically ran home. I had to push him into the shower after he saw my tan skin on display. I had already showered which caused him to wear an adorable pout the entire time.

We ate together with his hand glued to my thigh. We were usually very relaxed and wore just a shirt and our underwear when it was just us around the house, but it didn’t help me hide the arousal that stirred between my thighs. When we finished he instructed me to go sit on the bed while he did the dishes.

I was nearly vibrating by the time he finally walked into the room, a look on his face that could only be described as a hunter stalking his prey. I was glued to the spot on the bed, perched there waiting for when he would finally decide to strike.

When he made his way over and placed his lips on mine he kissed me with a fire that made me feel like my skin was burning again. I moaned into the kiss as his tongue swiped across my lower lip, pulling it between his teeth. One of his hands cradled my face while the other buried itself into my hair. He finally pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.

“I need you, (Y/N).” His breath fanned across my lips. “So very much.”

“I’m all yours, Javi,” I said.

I could feel him smiling. “Good girl.”

He helped me stand up and brushed my hair back behind my shoulders. My tan lines were revealed, inch by inch, while he slid my straps down my shoulders. I hadn’t worn a bra since I had been settling in for the night, and when he pulled the fabric of my tank top down further he was able to see where the lines of sun soaked skin ended. His mustache tickled me as his lips traced over each line, pressing soft kisses until they became deeper, wetter.

His tongue poked out to swipe at the skin, causing me to throw my head back in a moan. “Javi, fuck.”

“Mm, not yet, cariño.” Javi hummed against me, setting my skin alight. “I’m going to take my time with you. Show you everything you missed, all because you made a mistake.”

I groaned. Of course he was going to pull that card. He had been an absolute tease the entire time I was healing. When my skin hurt too much to touch he would instead use his eyes. I could barely get through a sentence without him staring at my lips, biting his own until I was a stuttering mess. He’d ask what was wrong, but his eyes held that mischievous twinkle.

When my skin was peeling, I was too grossed out to let him touch me. “I look like a lizard!” I had said one night when his hand was creeping up my thigh.

“That’s alright,” he had practically cooed in my ear. “I can wait. Then my baby will see what she’s been missing.”

The threat wasn’t the usual kind. I was used to being on the verge of tears after he had threatened to not let me cum, and had held true to his word. Or the threat of spanking me if I didn’t smarten up. But that time I wasn’t sure what I’d be in for. Especially since I had to wait to see what he’d do.

His hands slid from my straps to the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up until I raised my arms. “There we go, that’s my girl.”

The air felt good on my skin, making my nipples pebble before his eyes. I didn’t miss the way his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick his lips at the sight.

“My god. It’s like they’re on display for me.” His hands reached up and cupped them, his palms warm and comforting. “You’re so beautiful.”

He lowered his head and brought one of my nipples into his mouth, while his fingers flicked over the other one. I twitched when I felt his teeth scrape against the sensitive nub, and shivered when he chuckled.

“Why don’t you get more comfortable, hm?” His eyes were wide, usually a softer look on him. But the darkness of his pupil swallowed any innocence. He wasn’t asking. “Lay down.”

I did as he said, making sure I put a pillow under my head. He smiled, a softness flashing in his eyes before it was replaced yet again by that menacing look.

“My baby is so good for me, isn’t she?” I felt the rumble of his voice through my veins.

“Yes,” I said, my voice as soft as a whisper.

“Yes, what?”

I gulped. “Yes, daddy.”

His eyes widened for a split second as his lips parted around a tiny gasp.

We didn’t always explore that side of us, and whenever we did he let me be the one to choose that path. However, when we did explore it, I usually found myself getting completely lost in him. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

I wasn’t sure if I believed in heaven, but I certainly believed in Javi.

“Good,” his voice like velvet wrapped around my senses, “good girl.”

I smiled at him, while he started to strip. His shirt was pulled up and off, revealing his always tanned skin that I was usually jealous of, and the ripples of his muscles as he threw his shirt to the side. His hands lowered to his briefs, and I could see the outline of his cock pushing through. The fabric was lowered so slowly that I was practically drooling by the time the base of his cock was shown.

“Please,” I whimpered before even realizing the word left my lips.

“Patience,” he growled. “You’ll get what I give you, when I give it. Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby.”

My eyes flicked down to his hands once again, and he finally pulled his briefs all the way down. His cock sprang up and bobbed in the air, the tip swollen and a deep pink. I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth to hide the moan I felt stirring in my chest.

He walked forward until his knees met the bed and he started to crawl toward me on them while his hand fisted his cock. The muscles in his forearm shifted under the skin as his fingers squeezed over his head every time his hand pulled forward. Even if he hadn’t asked me to watch him I probably wouldn’t have been able to look away.

When he reached me he parted my legs. I could feel the air cooling where I was wet between my thighs, and his eyes immediately found the spot. He reached his hand forward and dragged a knuckle against the damp fabric, making my breath hitch.

“As much as I love to see how wet you are,” he began, pulling his hand away, “I’m going to ignore this little pussy for now, okay?”

“B-but,” I stuttered.

“Uh uh,” he tutted, shaking his head. “When I tell you I’m doing something, what do we say?”

“Okay, daddy.”

He smirked. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.” I could feel myself getting wetter, and more impatient, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Javi crawled over me, his length a heavy weight on my abdomen. I sighed as he pressed his lips to my forehead.

“My good girl. All mine.” He said, then he kissed my lips.

We moaned into each other's mouths as our tongues danced together. He pulled away and a string of saliva kept us connected until he was too far away. His lips and teeth made their way down my jaw and neck until he reached my chest. We had an agreement that we couldn’t leave any marks where people could see, which meant it was only when I was getting dressed in the morning or undressed at the end of the day that I got to see the bruises forming the shape of his teeth that littered my breasts and thighs. At times even my tummy had a mark or two sucked deep into the skin.

His teeth nipped at the thinner flesh of my breast and I gasped. He immediately soothed the ache with a swipe of his tongue and the press of his lips. We also had an agreement not to cause too much pain, since I was also a bit of a baby. Luckily he knew me well enough to know my limits, and how to push them just right.

“Want me to suck on your nipples? I know you love it,” he said, his lips brushing my skin. I writhed on the bed when his lips closed around a nipple, pulling it onto his tongue. When he pulled away he made sure to look into my eyes. “You know I love it too.”

I whimpered when he lowered his head once more, kneading my other breast with his hand. His tongue flattened against my nipple as he dragged it over top. He kissed his way across my chest until he got to the other one and repeated the process. When I couldn’t lay still on the bed he finally pulled away, looking satisfied with his work.

His eyes flickered to mine. “I want to try something.”

“I trust you.” The words tumbled out of my mouth immediately, because they were true.

Javi sat up and brought his hand to my jaw. His thumb tapped on my lips until I opened them, allowing it to land on my tongue. I sealed my lips around him and sucked, watching as his eyes fluttered shut and praises fell from his lips. When he recovered from the sensation, he continued to keep his thumb in my mouth while he moved his body so he was straddling my middle. He pulled his thumb from my mouth and grabbed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head.

I shivered as he traced a finger along the tan lines made from my bikini top, over my shoulders, down to the curve of my breasts. He followed the lines until he got to the middle, then paused.

“I want to see my cock between these beautiful, beautiful tits, baby.”

I immediately moaned at the thought. We hadn’t tried it before, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about it.

He smirked. “You like that idea?”

“Yes, please, daddy,” I nearly panted, just wanting him to make a move.

“Gotta make it nice and wet though,” he cupped my jaw again, tapping his thumb on my lower lip. “Open up for me, baby.”

My jaw stretched with how wide I opened my mouth, my tongue laying out on my bottom lip.

He moved himself up until his cock was at my mouth, then he held himself in one hand to guide his cock onto my tongue. I closed my eyes and sighed at the taste of him. It felt like I had been waiting forever to feel the heft of him settling in my mouth.

“Eyes on me, hermosa,” he instructed, my eyes snapping open to obey. “You’re so perfect for me, doing so good.”

I hummed around his length as he shifted his hips, sliding in and out of the heat of my mouth. Although he was turned on before, I could still feel his cock hardening slightly more.

“Oh, baby,” he moaned while tilting his head to the ceiling. “This mouth is so good, so fucking good.”

My eyelids felt heavy and threatened to close, letting me lose myself in the pleasure of making Javi feel good. But even if I wanted to I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. The way his jaw flexed, the muscles fluttering, his hair disheveled, and when he brought his eyes back to mine I was a goner. They were blown nearly black, the intensity making me squeeze my thighs together as they pinned me there. All his for the taking.

It felt too early when he pulled himself away, and when I whined he chuckled.

“I know, mi amor.” He maneuvered himself so he was straddling my upper torso again, stroking his cock that was wet from my mouth. “You like making daddy feel good, don’t you?”

Javi reached behind him and slid his fingers into the front of my underwear. His lips parted on a sharp intake of breath.

“So wet, (Y/N).” He brushed against my clit and my body jerked from the contact. “These panties are soaked, and this poor, little clit wants attention, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” I said, panting. “Please.”

He pulled away and I whined once more. “Soon, hermosa.”

Javi let go of his cock and it landed on me with a wet slap between my breasts. He brought his hands to my chest and began kneading the skin there, his fingers indenting in and his thumbs flicking over my nipples. His cock was nestled snug as he pushed my breasts together.

I wiggled on the bed as the heat of him soaked into my sensitive skin. Even though he was still a bit wet from my mouth the feeling was too dry, but just watching him turned me on too much to care. Before I could think about it anymore, he leaned down a bit and spit directly onto his cock. I arched my back as much as the weight of him would allow and moaned.

He smirked. “I know, baby, you like that? Want me to spit on these gorgeous tits?”

I didn’t even have to answer, he repeated his action. The heat of his spit warmed my chest, and my arousal practically pooled between my thighs. I squeezed them together to try and relieve some of the pressure while Javi picked up his pace. The squelching of his cock mixed with his spit filled the room, echoing off the walls and into my ears.

My words jumbled together in a mixture of ‘yes’, ‘please’, and ‘daddy’, as he lost himself in the pleasure.

“Open your mouth, (Y/N),” he commanded. I did as he asked, and completely gave myself over to him as he spit directly onto my tongue. “Swallow. Good girl, such a good girl, fuck. Show me your tongue.”

Once again I obeyed and felt him push further forward, bumping the head of his cock against my tongue. Precum leaked from his tip and connected us in a string as he pushed himself between my tits and onto my tongue over and over again. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he took what he needed and I gave him everything I had.

Finally he pulled away and I whined. “Oh, hermosa, I know you were having fun but I need to be inside you.”

I smiled at that and wiggled my hips as he made his way between my legs. His fingers were bruising as he spread my thighs and eyed the wet patch on my underwear.

“You’re so wet, fuck.” Javi’s voice was strained, but soothing to my ears. “Want me to take care of this pussy?”

“Yes, please, daddy.” I barely recognized my voice in those moments, completely given over to pleasure. “I need you so, so bad.”

“Lo sé, baby,” he cooed while slowly pulling the fabric off my hips and down my legs. “I’ll take care of you. Doesn’t daddy always take care of his girl?”

I nodded frantically, and when he pinched my thigh I gasped out, “yes, daddy, always.”

He leaned down and traced his tongue along the tan lines on my hips. “You look so good like this, but I need to see this ass.”

He wedged his hand between my body and the bed, maneuvering me so I was flipped over. I helped him and got comfortable on my stomach while he reached over and grabbed a pillow.

“Lift your hips,” he said, tapping a finger on my side.

I did as he said and he wedged the pillow under me so my ass was higher up.

“Look at you, being such a good girl, following all of daddy’s instructions.” Javi leant down and placed a kiss on the base of my spine. “And look at this ass, so perfect.”

His hands reached up and palmed both cheeks, kneading them. I felt the air brush against my most intimate parts as he spread me. Embarrassment at being under his watchful gaze crept up my chest, and I hid my face in my pillow. He must have felt how tense I got because he smoothed a hand up my spine.

“Is my baby feeling shy?” I nodded into the pillow. “Oh, you poor thing, there’s no need. Daddy’s got you, just relax.”

I turned my head so my cheek was smushed into the pillow and I could look at him over my shoulder. His hands were on my body but his eyes were on mine, giving me an immediate sense of calm.

Javi had seen every part of me before, and not just physically. He’d seen me at my most stressed, upset, angry. He’d also seen me at my happiest, usually in his arms.

The past few weeks he’d seen me as red as a lobster, and although it was embarrassing, he stuck by my side and reassured me with a burning kiss on my forehead that I was still so beautiful in his eyes.

So why should I suddenly feel embarrassed about being completely bared to him? There was no need. I knew he would always take care of me.

I felt my shoulders melt away from my ears, and it was like each column of my spine slowly unlocked. I became putty in his hands.

“That’s my girl,” he practically purred before placing another searing kiss on my spine.

I felt him spread me once more and he inhaled sharply. His thumb pressed against the tight ring of muscle and I sighed at the feeling. It wasn’t like he hadn’t touched me there before, but it was rare that I was on display while he did. Usually it was just while he was already doing something else, and usually I had something else inside me. We had discussed anal before and it wasn’t something I felt the need to try, but I couldn’t deny how good it felt when he would play with me.

I gasped when I felt something wet land on my asshole, and when he groaned I knew what it was. He spit once again, and the wetness intensified. I moaned at the feeling, wiggling my hips under his grip.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good for me. Being so patient.” He spit once more, sliding his thumb around and coating me. “You look so good like this, you’re practically dripping for me. You like when daddy plays with your ass?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said, panting slightly. “Feels so good.”

One finger slipped to my clit, while his thumb pressed harder against the muscle. I could feel him slipping in slightly and groaned at the intrusion. Just giving myself over to him had me feeling like I was going to cum any second, and the way his finger circled my clit with perfect pressure had me barreling toward that finish line.

“I can feel you tensing up, baby, you gonna cum for me?” I moaned in response which made him smack his palm down onto my ass. “Use your words, (Y/N).”

“Yes, daddy. I’m gonna cum, daddy,” I whimpered.

“Good,” he growled, then I felt him shift on the bed.

I hadn’t realized my eyes were closed until they snapped open at the feeling of his tongue flattening against my asshole. Another whimper left my mouth that ended in a groan. He still circled my clit while his other hand held me open for his mouth. The sounds of my wetness and his tongue sliding against me were obscene, especially when he started fucking his tongue into me.

I panted, moaned, and writhed on the bed.

“That’s it,” he said between licks and fucks. “Push your hips back, baby, cum on my face.”

That’s all he needed to say before my orgasm overtook me. I pushed my ass back against him over and over while his fingers and tongue worked to bring me back down to earth. When I finally settled my throat felt hoarse and my bones liquified.

His hands smoothed up my sides as he slid his body over mine. I sighed as his weight settled over my back, his hands on either side of my shoulders making sure he wasn’t completely squishing me. Not that I minded. I felt as though he was keeping me grounded, my breathing evening out further and further at the press of him against me.

I felt his cock nestle against my ass, and rocked myself forward, both of us moaning together.

“Baby, fuck, you feel so good.” His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“Please,” I breathed, “I need you.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pushing himself up enough so he could fist his cock and line up against me. “You need me to fuck you?”

I moaned as the blunt head of his cock pushed against my entrance. “Yes, please, daddy. Please fuck me.”

His cock pushed into me slowly, the stretch had me rolling my eyes into the back of my head as my toes curled. I felt like my body was melting into the exact shape he needed, completely made for his cock.

“You take me so well,” he panted, starting a steady pace. “You always take me so well, my good, good girl.”

We gasped and moaned and panted together as his hips pushed into my ass over and over again. He dropped himself down again so he was pressed to my back while he continued to rut into me. My thighs clenched, adding more pressure to my clit, the friction making a second orgasm start to approach faster than I could have anticipated.

“Can feel you clenching around my cock, so warm and wet. Fuck, you gonna cum again?” His words spurred me on, a heat building in my abdomen and spreading down my thighs. “Cum for me, baby, please cum for me.”

I moaned out and felt myself teeter along the edge, just one more push was all I needed. As if he could read my mind his hand slipped up and around my throat, squeezing just enough to cause stars to erupt along the edges of my vision.

“Cum for daddy,” he growled in my ear, his hand keeping me in place while he buried his cock even deeper.

“Fuck!” I cried out, cumming hard underneath him. My senses were filled with his smell, his touch, his sounds. I was all his.

Javi groaned and sunk his teeth into my shoulder, right where the tan line of my bikini strap was, as his body shuddered. His cock pulsed inside me as hot ropes of cum painted my walls. His body melted against mine even further once he was done, and he licked and kissed along my shoulder where I had no doubt there was an indent of his teeth.

We sighed together, finally relaxing fully, and he slipped off of me. He pulled my body against him and held me in his arms. I could feel his cum stick to my inner thighs, but I didn’t want to think about moving until my heart stopped beating so fast.

He kissed the top of my head while his hand cradled the back of it.

“So,” I started, my voice coming out smaller since my throat was still aching slightly, “the tan lines really do it for you?”

Javi laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest and making me smile. “Yeah, I guess they do. But at the end of the day you just do it for me in general.”

I tilted my head up so I could lose myself in the warmth of his eyes. “Even when I was a lobster?”

His lips tilted into a smirk. “I think the lobster thing got me the most.”

My jaw dropped in shock. “Hey!”

He laughed again, pulling my face back into his chest. “I’m kidding, baby. Please try to be more responsible next time, okay?”

My arms tightened around him as I nuzzled my cheek into his skin. “I promise, Javi.”

———

Taglist: @sullyosully @ashleymsnodgrass

[msgexymunson]

hi :) i wld love to see your take on eddie sitting in on reader’s tattoo appointment, i just got my foot n ankle done and my lonely little rat brain was overrun w the idea of him reminding me to breathe, being encouraging, taking care of me after (i had to limp outta there lol)

Congrats on the ink bestie!! 

Warnings: none I don't think, a bit pine-y, very praise heavy, happy ending

A/N: I wish I had an Eddie Munson by my side at each of my tatt appointments! (Though, on second thoughts, if I did I don't think I'd have any bare skin left!) Not sure if this is where you wanted this to go but I got a bit carried away haha

1.6k words

Masterlist 

As you approach the shop you feel your limbs jangling like windchimes. The breath you take in is gulped and shaky, doing nothing to calm your quaking nerves. 

Eddie strokes your hands, each held in his ironclad grip. 

"Hey, hey, look at me." 

Your eyes travel to meet his, heart leaping at the concern etched on his face. Bold, wide eyes meet your gaze with every ounce of care one look could give. 

"You know you don't have to do this. Just say the word and we'll walk away." 

His concern makes you want to cry, trying hard not to focus on his unending gaze. 

"I know, I want to do it." Taking a big breath, you harden your shoulders. "Let's go." 

Eddie smiles at your bravery and opens the tattoo shop door for you, giving you a little bow. 

Smirking at his gentlemanly antics you take your first steps in and walk over to the counter, gaze being met by a smiling woman with a shaved head and a neck tattoo. 

“Hey there, how can I help you?” Her grin’s infectious, all teeth and warmth. 

“I’ve got an appointment with you, I think? Are you Miranda?” You give your name and you're led through, Eddie hot on your heels. As you walk past a couple of stations Eddie gives a salute to another tattoo artist, who waves and grins at you both. 

As you’re filling out the paperwork, Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, thumb rubbing encouraging circles into the warm flesh. 

“It’s gonna be fine, it’s not even that bad, trust me. I’m here.” 

As you smile back at him, face warming at his words, you bite back the lump in your throat that always appears when your best friend looks at you like that. Handing the form back to her, the words “First time?” surprise you from your revelry, and you turn to look at the grinning tattoo artist. 

“Yeah, it’s my 21st, so it’s a present.” Eddie waves half heartedly with his fingers, indicating he was the one who bought the appointment. 

“Cute. Well at least you’ve got your boyfriend here to look after you.” 

You cringe inwardly at that, wishing that her words were true. 

“Oh he’s- we’re not- “ 

“Oh this princess is far too good for the likes of me, ain’t that right?” Eddie’s lopsided grin tugs at your heartstrings as he lands a playful punch on your shoulder. A soft frown pulls your bottom lip into a small pout, wanting to say that he is good enough, that he’s everything, but the words never leave your lips. 

Miranda’s voice cuts through the awkward tension. “Shame. You guys make a cute couple.”

Your face flushes magenta as you remove your sneaker and sock, grateful to be looking anywhere but Eddie’s face. 

As the artist preps the area you risk a glance at Eddie. If he feels awkward, he doesn’t show it, just giving you that cheeky grin of his you’ve grown to love, a permanent etch of mischief lined in his features. 

She peels off the stencil and invites you to check out the design. It’s an orchid; roots, leaves and beautiful flowers run up the side of your foot to your ankle. 

“Oh, it’s perfect, thanks!” You smile at Miranda and she begins prepping the inks and tattoo machine. As soon as the machine turns on you clench. It must be visible as Eddie grabs your hand forcefully, squeezing your fingers. 

“It’s OK, it’s just noisy. Don’t focus on it, focus on me.” You will your eyes to open as you gaze upon his face. 

Miranda lets you know she’s going to start tattooing. Your gaze never falters, staring at Eddie like your life depended on it. 

The first touch of the needle shocks you, but only a little, and after the initial wince dissipates you continue to look into Eddie’s eyes. 

“That’s it sweetheart, doing so well. You’re doing better than I did on my first go!” 

You hear a deep voice from a few feet away. 

“That’s true, he started crying!” A hearty chuckle follows it. 

“Yeah, thanks for that Mac!” Eddie throws the words over his shoulder as you giggle. You don’t believe it for a moment, but you appreciate everyone wanting to distract you. 

As time progresses, the sting of the needle begins to feel like more of a burn, and it's getting harder and harder to ignore. As you flinch for the fourth time, nerves spasming in your foot, Eddie squeezes your hand. 

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s OK, you’re nearly done. Doing such a good job. So brave. I’m proud of you.” 

“Eddie, speak to me, tell me something.” You say through clenched teeth. 

“OK, er, how about…” then his face lights up. “How about I tell you about the three battle bards who wandered upon a clearing and discovered a fire dragon’s egg?” 

“Yeah? What were their names?” You smirk. A bubble of love threatens to burst in your chest. 

“Oh, you don’t know? They’re like, really famous.” 

“So, what are they called, Eddie?” Your smile widens at his stalling. 

“Easy. They were called Ragnar, er, Galduf, and, er… Lemmy.” 

“Lemmy??” You giggle. 

“Yeah, Lemmy the Gambler, famous battle bard.” Eddie nods sagely. 

“Did he sing about a certain playing card by any chance?” 

“Oh, so you have heard of him!” Your laughter rings through the shop, making Eddie beam with pride. 

He continues to talk you through the adventures of Ragnar, Galduf and Lemmy the Gambler, hands gesticulating wildly, until the colour portion of your tattoo is nearly finished. You were almost lost in his story. Almost. 

The burn begins to become unbearable. 

“Eddie, shit, I- I can’t!” You tense every muscle, flexing your pain outwards. 

Miranda the tattoo artist asks “Hey, if you want to stop we can, just finishing up with the purple though, and then it’s just white highlights, then we are done.” 

You see Eddie glance down at your ink. 

“Seriously, princess, it's so close now, you can do it.” He looks up at Miranda. “She can do it. Trust me. I’ll get her through.” 

Your mouth hangs open at his words. 

“Hey, princess, you trust me right? You can do this, I promise. Trust me.” 

You nod, unable to focus on anything but Eddie. 

“I trust you. I can do this.” 

“Atta girl. Being so good for me sweetheart.” Blood blooms in your cheeks at his praise, breath catching in your throat. 

It’s the last hurdle. The final touch ups, and everything in you wants to leap out of the chair and run. Eddie’s warm palm presses to your jaw, thumb rubbing comfort just by your ear. 

You’re barely aware that you’re speaking. 

“Eddie, I can't, I can't, that’s it, I just- no more, I- “

Suddenly, Eddie’s lips are on yours. You don’t have time to think, just feel. They are soft; a delicate, hesitant pressure being applied so chastely as if they were afraid you’ll break, or run. Your eyes widen immediately, caught entirely off guard. Then, you melt. Your eyes flutter shut as your hand reaches into Eddie’s hair, pulling him in softly. Eddie exhales a relieved breath through his nose that fans across your face, as you both kiss each other. Mouths pressing against each other; not opening, but inviting. A teasing promise of what could be to come. You inhale that particular perfume that is Eddie; all sweet snacks, weed, and the spell of his skin. 

A noise outside of your kissing bubble draws you back to reality. 

“So… I’m done.” 

You whip your head around to Miranda, who's blushing, looking a little like a third wheel. 

“What?” You gasp, still not entirely on the correct plane of existence. Not when Eddie’s hand is stroking softly at your jaw. 

“I’m done! Take a look in the mirror!” 

You jump up and hobble your way over to the full length mirror on the opposite side of the shop. 

“Oh, oh it’s beautiful! Oh my God, it’s better than I imagined. Thank you!” You hide your face in your hands, trying to snuff out the emotion. Eddie walks over to the till to complete paying for your present. Once your tattoo is wrapped, and you’ve managed to hop outside on one foot, you finally risk a glance at your best friend. 

“So.” you struggle out, heart in your throat. 

“So.” Eddie mirrors you, fear in his eyes. “I was just trying to help, you know? I thought it was the thing you’d least expect and if you want to pretend it never happened I totally understand and mmph” 

The rest of Eddie’s ramblings are muffled as you press your lips against his. 

“Do you wanna, erm, go back to your trailer, and we can talk about this? Or just kiss some more?” You smile up at him. 

“I vote for, kiss some more.” He grins and lifts you up bodily to your surprise, carrying you to his van. Your laughter rings through the car park, delight and surprise rippling through it like a sunbeam.

If you want to be added to my Eddie tag list please give me a shout, I kinda lost it after Rumour sorry everyone! I've got the following so far:

@munson-blurbs @eddiesprincess86 @munsonology @manda-panda-monium @tlclick73 @bookshelf-dust @needylilgal022 @tiannamortis @simple-lovebot