#i had to laundry and then i Kept Getting Distracted

[salmon-bagel]

Tf2 mercenaries x Seductress! Class! Reader

Warning: nsfw content, female reader, sexism

Scout

When Scout heard that there's a woman who's a professional at seduction, he had already started plotting.

"Hello, name is Y/n L/n, but you can call me the Seductress. It's nice to meet you."

"Heya, nice to meet cha' mommy- Oh, i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy-"

Constantly hits on you. Scout believes that you're the type of girl that's 'easy', someone who will let anyone bang them regardless of who they are.

That boy isn't going to leave you alone until you let him into your pants.

Even when he's not busy trying to get in between your legs, Scout is asking you for advice on how to woo the ladies. Considering you're a professional at flirting with people.

You go back and forth on giving him good advice and bad advice. Sometimes you feel bad that he can't get a girlfriend. Then again, you think to yourself that no woman should be within three feet of Scout because of how much of a horny asshole he is.

After some time, you did grow to have a soft spot for him. Since he's bullied a lot by the other mercenaries. He can be kinda cute when he's not being a complete jerk.

Soldier

Soldier treats you like the other mercenaries. Ruthlessly bleating in your ear when you're doing something wrong.

"GIVE ME ONE HUNDRED SQUATS NOW! I WANT THAT AMERICAN ASS NICE AND PERKY BY THE TIME YOU'RE DONE!"

He wants the best from you. Regardless of your gender, he'll push you to the limit until he's proud enough to call you a warrior.

Soldier tests that you're a good seductress by making you flirt with him. It's an ego boost on his part, but he's genuinely trying to make sure you're hot enough for the enemy.

"YOU CALL THAT FLIRTING!? I'VE HEARD BETTER FLIRTING FROM A MONKEY! AT LEAST THEY CAN PUCKER THEIR LIPS BETTER UNLIKE YOURS!"

Buys you clothing that he believes would work well when you're seducing the enemies. It's always american themed swimwear or lingerie. You began to believe he's just buying that for himself for you to try.

Whenever the team successfully wins for the day, Soldier immediately rushes towards and smacks your ass as hard as he can.

"NOW THAT IS AN ASS I'M PROUD TO CALL AMERICAN!"

Sniper

Sniper believes your work is very unprofessional. Considering he believes you have to whore yourself out to the enemy team. Instead of using your actual skills.

He says he has nothing against prostitution or sex work in general. Sniper just thinks that stuff you do should be kept behind doors and not on the battlefield. He says it causes too much of a distraction. However, you claim that 'distraction' is the point. Sniper doesn't seem to get it.

You honestly could care less what he thinks. Snipers throws jars of piss for a living, and he really thinks he has the right to judge other people?

The truth is you're good at seducing people. Too good. That it distracts him from doing his own job. Sniper has a tendency to watch you through the scope of his gun.

The way your body gets all hot and sweaty from the terrible heat, oh it does something to him. Sniper has imagined licking your sweat off your tits while you degrade him for being such a filthy fuck.

You are his go-to jerk off material. The women in his porno magazines don't get him off like they used. The only way he can relieve himself now is by imagining your fat ass bouncing on his cock.

When he noticed a pair of your panties in the laundry basket, Sniper couldn't help himself to inhale the sweet scent of your panties before putting them back.

Sniper knows he's a damn hypocrite.

He slut shames you for what you do, only to get off to you afterwards. The post nut clarity consumes him with guilt and shame.

Sniper still hasn't built up the courage to apologize to you.

Heavy

Heavy is one of the very few people who treat you like an actual human being. He was raised by a single mother alongside three sisters. Heavy knows to treat a woman right. Less he wishes to face their fury.

Heavy doesn't understand why you seduce the enemy. You're supposed to shoot at the enemy, not bat your eyelashes and wink! However, after watching your work on the battlefield, he gets to more of an understanding.

"Oh, I see. You lie to enemy and lure them in like fish? HA! Very clever!"

Absolutely loves gunning down the enemy that is distracted by you.

Is one of the few men who genuinely falls for you for your personality. Heavy knows you're drop-dead gorgeous, but he knows that beneath all that beauty is a truly intelligent woman. You earned your place on the team by impressing Mann Co., with your skills instead of batting your eyelashes and begging to be a part of the team. You make his heart swoon like no other woman has.

He likes to write you poetry. It helps convey how he feels for you because he's too bashful to put it into simple words.

Heavy is not afraid of anything. Nothing, not even death itself. However, it took him a lot of courage and constant rehearsal to ask you out on a date.

He hopes to start a genuine relationship with you. Heavy doesn't want a one-night stand or be friends-with-benefits with you. He wants you to be his girlfriend and maybe possibly his wife later down the line.

Engineer

"Well, I'll be! Aren't you the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Engineer is taken aback by your good looks and sauve personality. He genuinely questions why you wanted to be a mercenary. A beautiful lady like yourself is too of high risk to get hurt!

Will always be there to help you if it gets too much for you to handle.

However, he can be very overprotective over you on the battlefield. Engineer thinks it would be safer for you to stay on the rancho relaxo than getting shot at by the enemy. As much as you'd like to not do anything on the job, Mann Co. isn't paying you to be lazy. They see everything and will tell you to get off your ass and start fighting.

You have to beg Engineer that you can do it on your own. He understands your point of view and begrudgingly lets you fight with the others. Even if it means going against his code of defending and protecting a lady when she needs it.

While putting up dispensers and sentries, he can't help to admire you from afar. Engie believes that a guy like him has no chance with a girl like you. What woman would be interested in a bald man who has a robotic hand and locks himself away in his work? No gal that's who.

Engie fantasizes about working up the courage to flirt with you and ask you out, which would eventually lead to a rather sensual night spent together. He did try to ask you out once but miserably failed. Engie kept stuttering and mispronouncing words out of nervousness while attempting to seduce you. You couldn't make out what he was trying to say. Thankfully, Demo had the heart to pull Engie out of that mess of a conversation and save him from further embarrassing himself.

So now, he just admires you from afar. Dreaming that one day he'll get to win your heart.

Spy

Surprisingly, he wants to get to know you as soon as possible. It's not every day you get to meet a lovely lady.

When he learns of your class type, oh boy, this man will make you question if you're even meant to be the Seductress.

"Mademoiselle, you are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."

"Do you know why they call Paris the city of love? Why don't I take you there and show you?"

"If the verb ‘to love’ didn’t exist, I would have invented it upon seeing you."

Spy leaves your entire face red and completely frozen after he's done talking to you. He's so flattering and charismatic. In comparison to the other men, he makes it seem like they're not trying at all. It isn't their fault, though, Spy is a natural at wooing the ladies.

You're surprised when Spy gifts you things that you really like. You never shared these intimate details with him before or with the other mercenaries. When you asked him how he knew what you specifically liked, Spy merely winks at you and grins. He has a way of receiving information without anyone knowing.

He has a tendency to kiss the back of your hand whenever you two are greeting each other. Spy is a gentleman and can't help himself to be sweet to a beautiful woman.

When Spy asks you out on a date, you agree to it because you have been meaning to go out. You felt like you'd go insane if you stayed in the base any longer. You put on your best dress and left with Spy into town.

After having a nice meal and a few glasses of wine, both of you give into temptation. Spy could hardly keep his hands off you when he drove you both back to the base. All your clothes came off the moment you reached his bedroom. You found it a little strange he refused to take off his mask. Oh, what the hell. He's hot and treated you to a nice date.

In the morning, you receive uncomfortable stares from the other mercenaries. Let's just say you and Spy weren't exactly quiet during your lovemaking. Unfortunately for the others, you decided Spy would become your fuck buddy.

Medic

He's been meaning to include a female subject in his experiments- I mean, he's glad to meet you!

You try your best to steer clear of him. However, on the front lines, it isn't so easy. When you're constantly getting shot at and stabbed by enemies, you'll need the Medic's help to get better.

When he sees you in action, Medic feels a new emotion that he's never felt before. Is this.. love? Maybe it is. Or maybe it's just lust.

Medic has never been infatuated with any woman. Except you. The way you lure in these pathetic men with your good looks and false promises, only to kill them afterwards- oh God, it makes him giddy. He feels like a schoolboy all over again!

Medic does routine check-ups on you. To make sure all your lady parts are in working order. In reality, this perverted fuck wants to have an excuse to grope you. Always gaslights you into believing he's not being a degenerate.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Why, of course! Breast cancer isn't something to take lightly!" He'd respond. You would understand, but after thirty minutes of him fondling your breasts, you knew what his true intentions were.

Medic writes you love letters and his dove, Archimedes, deliver them to you.

The letters start off relatively sweet. Medic writes that he views you as a Goddess, a truly ethereal being that is too perfect for this world filled with lesser mortals. And how he's the only man truly worthy for you.

Then, the letters take a complete turn the more you read it. He writes how he wishes to fulfill every filthy fantasy he's ever had with you. Oh boy, the list is long. For one, Medic wants to tie you down, gag you, and breed you like the filthy whore you are. Another consited of how he wants to fuck you on the battlefield while you're bleeding out and fingering your open wound as if it was your pussy.

You've stopped reading his letters and tend to light them on fire.

Demoman

"So, how much do you regularly charge for a quick shag?" He'd ask you before laughing his ass off.

Demo will never take you or your work seriously. Even if you politely ask him to.

He doesn't see what's so hard about showing off your tits and saying how much you love to suck cock. Demo believes you should've been a stripper if you wanted to tease men so desperately.

You frequently explain to him in detail how you help and provide for the team. You honestly can't tell if Demo deliberately forgets or because he gets drunk so often, he hardly pays attention to you while you talk.

Don't worry, though. After you've instilled the fear of women into him, he'll be gladly reminded that he shouldn't judge or ridicule a woman. If his mother were here, she'd knock some sense into him.

Demo apologizes to you, drinks, gets drunk, and apologies some more

"I'm sorry, lassie! It's just that I just get so lonely sometimes! What woman would give me, a one-eyed freak, a chance!"

He bawls on the floor, crying in front of you. You attempt to cheer him up by comforting him. Instead, you end up getting drunk with him.

Did you shag him in the heat of the moment? That's all up to you ;)

Pyro

Has no idea what you're doing to the enemy. Anything sexual you do is translated as innocent in their vision. Will never know what real seduction or sex.

Luckily, they think everything you do is nice and polite!

Regularly gives you grotesque gifts, which are usually human hearts and bones. You begrudgingly take the gifts because you know they mean well and don't wish to be disrespectful.

Pyro has a tendency to go through your closet when you leave your room. Or while you're sleeping. Either why, they steal your clothing and belongings. They pick out outfits and wigs they like along with makeup supplies. You wonder where you placed your dress and immediately begin searching for it. Maybe you left it in the laundry room. As soon as you exit your room, you see Pyro wearing your clothing over their suit. Fake eyelashes have been glued onto their eyes, and lipstick smeared all over the breathing hole.

You can't even be upset with Pyro. They're doing their best.

You let Pyro keep the dress they're wearing, considering it most likely wouldn't fit you anymore.

[ngc-5194]

Hihihi Lemon Drop!!! Hope you're having a lovely day 💛💛💛 Answerer's choice Sora Kingdomhearts or Joshua Kiryu Twewy for the ask game mayhaps??? :0c

hihi happi!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm having a pretty good day, thank you!! and! as u comand <3333333

Sora:

Sexuality Headcanon: bi!! and aromantic sometimes when the moment strikes. he is just a little guy who loves his friends oh so much <3333

Gender Headcanon: transmasc! he can contain so much transmasc swag its unreal. also every kh character is trans because i say so thank you for your time

A ship I have with said character: sorikai is soooo cute. who doesn't love childhood friends to lovers, especially when they all have two hands <33

A BROTP I have with said character: i need him and vanitas to be friends somehow so badly you don't understand. but of the actual relationships he has already him and roxas are so Important to me it's not even funny

A NOTP I have with said character: i'm gonna be real i just don't really get the princess ships. that or like him with any of the wayfinder trio. or just anyone who knew him as small kid when they were grown up.

A random headcanon: i think sora was the first of the island kids to learn how to swim but pretended to not be able to until riku and kairi could as well. he didn't want to swim until they could all swim together.

General Opinion over said character: I LOVE HIMMMM. he's so silly and kind and loveely. i am holding him in the palm of my hand and showing him off to everyone like a cool bug. i am feeding him little treats .i am forcing him to stop sacrificing himself for once in his life

Joshua:

Sexuality Headcanon: look at him. that's a homosexual. a very annoying one in a boring outfit but a Homosexual nonetheless. however. specifically he's homoromantic asexual. to me.

Gender Headcanon: trans man who gets just a little spicy with it (he/they/it in general but He/Him when he's feeling Annoying and she/her on the occasions he feels like it)

A ship I have with said character: i'm BORING okay <- joshneku. however joshbeat is also very funny to me i am smashing them together like barbie dolls.

A BROTP I have with said character: i think josh and shiki would be an incredible duo if they do not kill each other in the first 20 minutes. rather, if she does not kill him. again. also this is probably just dream drop distance talking but joshua and rhyme's dynamic can be SO.

A NOTP I have with said character: i suppose i'm not the biggest enjoyer of him and haz, but honestly i don't really care that much.

A random headcanon: ok this is a pretty common one but that boy definitely killed himself. most dramatically ironic if he did it from falling or a gun but no matter what that boy died by his own hand before he tried doing it again through neku

General Opinion over said character: i hate his ass so much. if anyone insults him theyre right but they are also so so so wrong. no one understands him like i do. i don't understand him either. i would punch him immediately if given the chance. someone needs to drag his ass to therapy yesterday. he's (probably) my favourite twewy character. i hate his stupid gay ass.

[viriborne]

Also I’m sorry if I said I was gonna do something and then didn’t lol my brain runs 100 miles an hour it’s a wonder that I can even have a coherent thought.

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”

[yanderenightmare]

Yandere Satoru and Suguru sharing a darling is what makes me OwO

Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru

TW: yandere, noncon, condescension

fem reader

It wasn’t really that you were weak… You were just unfortunate.

Unfortunate – to have been placed in the same year as them – Gojo and Geto, the two most promising students Jujutsu High had ever seen.

If only you would keep a lower profile like Shoko – and not be so determined to become the best – you’d be better off and not wind up on your ass each and every day sparring with the two boys – who really were the best. 

But something about their high-and-mighty attitude just makes them impossible for you to ignore.

The way they taunt and jeer, grinning their shit-eating grins – grinding your gears to no end – forcing you to try about anything to just, at least once, come out on top. 

Like now, in the padded sparring room – where you, again, could only barely find a foot to stand on – with what ground you had managed to keep thus far, visibly only thanks to your cocky opponent allowing it.

“You sure you wanna be a jujutsu sorcerer?” Gojo asked nonchalantly, his lanky arms slung around your smaller body with ease, resting his chin off the nook of your neck – unbothered by how you tried and struggled to shake him off.

You were dewy-faced and panting already while he hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. And it only aided in making your head grow ever hotter with vexation. “Take this seriously-” You growled back at him.

But he ignored you – the same way he ignored whatever amount of cursed energy you tried fighting him with. “I mean… I’m sure there are a lot of other things you’d be better suited for.”

After all… the last thing you’d want is for him to take this seriously. 

“Tch- like what exactly?” You bit out, hating his suggestive tone though needing him distracted with the conversation – thinking it would be a good stall to give you some much-needed rest where you stood, trying to hide how tired you were – forcing heavy breaths into smaller ones that made your lungs ache for air and your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Your weapon had already been thrown to the other side of the room – burst into a shattered broken mess of fragments you wouldn’t even be able to butter toast with anymore. And it hadn’t been the first one. In fact, the entire arsenal had been turned to splinters, leaving you to fight the boy who’d broken them all with only your hands to spare.

“Oh- you know….” He drawled, thinking it cute how you tried withholding your exhaustion from him. Pulling you a little closer to his chest – snuggling into you while thinking – his tongue out in concentration before calling out to the other boy. “Oh- help me out, Suguru.”

Geto sat waiting his turn next to the door, smiling like a cat with eyes closed. “Hmm… something cute…” He began before answering. “Like a maid.” 

You sneered – eyes lowering into a glare at the raven-haired boy who still, without a hitch, kept calmly smiling back at you.

Gojo offered a small snicker, adding to the ridicule, before whispering. “Or a housepet.” His voice, low and mocking in its whispering, yet loud right at your ear – with lips brushing your ear in a way you could tell he was smirking like his equally grating friend.

And it all just coaxed another spur of much-unrewarded effort where you once again tried your best at getting free – another growl spurring up from your gut with a vengeance. “Shut up-” 

“Don’t you agree, Suguru?” The white-haired boy ignored you again – though tightened his grip in correspondence – his long arms thrown in a cross around your front with slender fingers curling, now almost painfully, into the soft flesh of your midriff – having lifted your shirt enough for him to touch your skin directly.

“Mh, I can see it… doing laundry, cleaning the house, making dinner-” The other agreed, standing up with an unbothered sigh, taking slow and soft steps over the white padding to reach the two of you – his shape always much larger, growing like a mass of something menacing – dark and towering and shadowing like some great statue – making you feel so unbelievably small. 

Pulling his hand from his baggy pant pockets, you flinched as it thumbed your chin to make you look up at him – all your struggles gone and almost replaced with shivers instead – now with feeling the intense weight of being not just outmatched but outnumbered too. 

Feeling all but swallowed between the two, an inch of regret steadily crept about your gut, quenching what former fire used to fuel your spirit – leaving you with only an intense sense of defeat and fear.

His smile split with teeth, and you paled in light of it – breath thin as he leaned in closer.

“You’d look pretty natural wearing a pretty kimono… waiting for your man to come home.” He whispered, and you swallowed thickly in return, looking up into his slim eyes, who looked down at you with that small smile of his which seemed to carry a weight that felt crushing.

You tried keeping cool – tried grasping for any semblance worth of calm you could manage – even as Gojo’s hands, warm and soft, gently started messaging circles into your sides – his lips still at your ear in hot breaths and playful whispers. “Sure, it doesn’t pay the same way being a sorcerer does, but I’m sure a girl like you’d be grateful for pretty clothes and a big house.”

Geto hummed in agreement, his hand sliding from your chin to cup your cheek – with hot breaths fanning your face making goosebumps spring to the surface – adding to the statement. “And a warm bed to sleep in at night.”

You let out a whimper then, with lips quivering. The atmosphere had changed – turned thick with something else, something suffocating – something that left you faint, both speechless and breathless – whilst you warily looked up into the dark set of eyes above you and shivered at the feel of the teeth behind you. 

“All in exchange for some cooking and cleaning,” Gojo murmured against your neck, pulling your body closer while it shook unsteadily between the two of them.

“Don’t forget the other thing….” Geto hinted beneath his breath, his lips brushing your silently parted ones with a smirk, savoring that terribly troubled look on your face with an amused one of his own.

“Right~ The other thing~” Gojo purred, also enjoying your faltering, liking the feel of your heartbeat quickening beneath his fingertips.

“What thing?” You asked weakly – warily – as though scared of the answer.

Gojo snickered while Geto answered. “I think it’s better we show you this one.”

You were on your back the next second – your wrists pinned beneath the strength of Gojo’s fists where he kneeled above your head – his black shades slipping down his nose as he stared down at you with his smile and eyes gleaming in a look you could only call crazy.

Geto was kneeling at your other end, still towering over you – with big hands spreading your thighs, holding them tight to keep you from kicking. 

Your mind hadn’t really processed the possibility yet – hadn’t really allowed it to sink in – but it was dawning on you now – rapidly – while watching the boy lift your skirt up passed your panties.

“Hey! Stop-” You squealed, trying to bring your knees together to hide yourself. But you seemed smaller than you’d ever felt now, on the ground beneath the two boys who just dwarfed you in comparison.

“Think of it as part of training.” Geto offered casually while shuffling closer – his hands holding you beneath the knees, keeping you spread. “As a housepet, you need to learn these things.”

“And if you’re still adamant about becoming a jujutsu sorcerer… this is a realistic field exercise too.” Gojo added, his eyes big and ice-blue, glowing with something that seemed to seize you by the throat as he stared down at the growing hysterics on your pretty face. “I mean, with a face like this, I’m sure both curse users and curses themselves would want a taste before killing you.”

Geto removed his jacket, casting it aside. “We just want to help prepare you for what’s out there.” He excused, leaning over you with hands running over your chest, undoing button after button while you squirmed.

“No, please-” You shook your head, eyes closed tight in a desperate wish to wake up – the initial disbelief of the situation quickly leaving you every second of feeling hands touching more and more of your naked skin.

You choked on it, never having felt fear quite like it – soon finding hot streams of tears rushing down your face where you struggled to find air.

“We wouldn't want you going out into the real world thinking everyone’s going to play nice with you like we have.” Geto mouthed – eyes thirsty while looking at your cleavage – his large hands cupping your tits over the bra, making you squeak.

“Stop-” You sobbed, but like always, both of them ignored you.

“I’m sorry to say it-” Gojo cut you off, bowing down closer until his eyes were but an inch away from your teary trembling ones. “But the real world doesn’t care about you the way we do and won’t protect you like we will.” 

Geto’s hands slipped beneath your skirt – his fingers carding into the fat of your hips, smoothly hooking his fingers onto the band of your panties before slowly beginning to peel them down your thighs. “This is for your own good.”

[yandere-kokeshi]

We need to know how separate TF-141 would be as house-husbands!!! Please!!!

— Yandere headcanons of TF-141 as house-husbands

Warnings: Yandere behavior, older! characters, male gender roles, NSFW, slight delusional behaviors.

A/N: Anon, you are SO, so smart. I love you /a.

Captain “Price” John:

The type of house-husband nobody expected for him to be– not even himself. John had partially agreed to it, and now he’s a stay-at-home dad for your cats. When he wedded you, he never thought of it this way; and now, he had promised to always care for you, did he not?

Price is well over-tired, pretty hairy and massive; beard scratchy and face all squishy; he’s a chubby man. But that doesn’t stop him at all.

John loves waking you up in the mornings. Before even shaking you awake, he loves to admire you. Watching your different breathing patterns, some dribbles of drool, and the obvious bed marks staining your face makes him smirk. But of course, it ends too short when he realizes you need to get up.

John is so, oh gentle, when waking you up. Scarred hands rubbing at your hips as he rubs his beard into your shoulder, prepping kisses and telling you to get a move on. However, if you ignore him, he’s more than happy to leave some permanent marks, yes?

He always makes your breakfast and lunch the night before, chopping the meat, fruits, and vegetables into the correct order so he can easily sleep in with you till you leave. So, when your alarm goes off, he detaches himself from you, getting up with only his red boxers– turning on the oven to preheat the food yet again and leaving them on the table for you to enjoy when you get out of the shower.

And with that, he takes your health seriously, mentally and physically, which means most foods in the house are pretty healthy. All types of fruits, veggies, protein, and fiber nourishment is given with each meal, and he expects you to eat it all. 

When shopping, he takes everything seriously. He hates getting off track, only sticking to what’s on the list, and cashiers who take too long on talking– especially if they openly flirt with him. Can’t you see I'm taken? He snarks out, showing off his wedding ring before fast walking out towards his car with his hands full.

Chores are chores. They need to be done. Dishes are easy, laundry, and vacuuming are a piece of cake. But cleaning the bathroom? Oh, that’s a bit difficult. Especially with the hidden camera he’s put out of your sight, and at times, he gets distracted; watching the many films, seeing you all naked and wet, makes Price feel... a sudden urge. How are you just so gorgeous, hm?

John is the definition of a “Pro Loyalty Card”. For all those stores he visits, he has cards for each and every single one of them, including the convenience store. They always come in handy.

Routines are his specialty; he knows everything about your schedule, to the time you leave for work, to when you call him at your lunch break, come home and collapse in his lap, all the way to sleeping in the bed naked. He’s memorized it all. 

After the long antagonizing and stressful week, John always sits you down for a long bath. He massages your shoulders, using a special lotion to rub on you after the bath. But, that’s not the only gift he's giving. Before gently and lovingly pushing you to the bed, he slowly fucks the stress and irritation of you; teeth makes ensuring you stay loyal to your man.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon is quick and sleek with shopping, getting and seeking foods that have high nutrition because you only deserve the best. Most foods he picks out are healthy, getting many baskets of fruits to ensure you enjoy your lunches. But when passing by the sugar aisle, he can’t help but choose a few sweets for you. 

A type of house-husband you’d never expect. He’s brooding, shoulders kept tight, wearing a black mask and hoodie as he sulks in the grocery aisles, holding the colored basket. You’d think he’s stealing with a gun hidden in his back pocket. However, when in reality, he’s taking his house duties extremely seriously as he eyes for the cereal aisle.

He wakes up way early, even before you start to stir awake, even before the sun rises and goals himself to get a good workout in. Even though he’s not the same lieutenant as he was years ago– he’s not lazy, and still picks up his pace whilst jogging down the street and doing push-ups in the open garage. 

At times, he wishes you could join him, and it would be fun, would it not? Having you down below, as his chest presses against yours and your flushed face being the main goal for him to continue? Or maybe, him guiding you through pull-ups, and you need his help? Oh, that’s how to make him very desperate for you in the early mornings. 

Speaking of early mornings, when you rise with his gentle shaking, whispers of “good mornin’”, and his rough stubble rubbing your neck, you realize just how lucky you are. Especially with how Riley joins in, when he notices his second favorite human is up and awake. 

Though, if you decide to ignore these two, covering your face and mumbling away, Simon will crawl over you, prep your face with sloppy kisses, and murmur hot and dirty words. His hand instinctively crawling down, snapping the band of your underwear, nails barely scratching at your skin whilst promising to get you all hot and messy, before forcing you out of bed. 

When you leave out of that door, regardless of the morning, he ensures the house is spotless before you come home. He doesn’t listen to any music, only the occasional barks from Riley as he sprays the leather couches, doing the dishes the “old-fashioned way”, and folding laundry like it’s a race. 

Most are scared of him– except for that one lady down the road. Her eyes follow Simon as if he’s a god, but he scoffs at that when she twirls her hair. You’re the real deity, he openly thinks. Of course, he shows off his pretty wedding ring, the one you got him; and somehow, Simon wishes you’d just make out with him in public, show her that he’s off limits and that he’s yours. 

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

The type of househusband who immediately recognized that you needed to be cared for, and went forth with that promise between the marriage. You work so hard to make money for the both of you. And he’s devoted to doing whatever he can to be helpful too. 

Kyle is a clean freak, which means the house is nearly spotless when you come home. Every scratch at the couch has him grunting and hands vigorously trying to rub it off. Shoes inside the house are immediately put up, and he hates rainy days; looking at you with glaring pupils as you step inside with soaked coverings. But, he loves you. 

The chores in the house are easily done before the afternoon, dishes cleaned with shiny marks and the floors vacuumed. Dusting and sweeping the house with headphones on, face flushed whilst… listening to among things he’d never want you to find out. 

Laundry is always last in line, as he tends to “borrow” a good deal of dirty underwear of yours, smelling them intensely. Don’t worry though, he returns them at some point. 

Kyle is the definition of “wifey material food”. Every breakfast consists of incredible fried eggs, mixed with bacon and fluffy pancakes; lunch and dinner being different every day, which is nice. He usually sticks with foods you’re comfortable with, never going out of your zone, and tries his hardest to make different sizes of hearts out of the food. 

Though, you never seem to notice the secret ingredient, the divine particular part where the two of you are bonded stronger. Such shame, he utters. Sometimes he wishes you’d come home early– catch him desperately adding it within the dish with utter lewd excitement. 

Having you come home is the best time of the day. Waiting by the door, wearing the cactus green apron you got him years ago, with a giant smile and dinner laid out, waiting for you. By the end of dinner, you’re full; both of love, and much suffocation of affection. 

All the other housewives in the area love him. They often invite him for yoga, or work-out sessions. But, he usually uses the excuse that you need him. You do, don't you?

Every Friday, he wears and shows off certain gifts he feels that you’ll love. You work so hard for the both of you, so he should show his appreciation, should he not? Wearing all types of risqué clothing, leaving desperate messages, and having lingerie hidden underneath his black vest, coloring his skin and outlining his scars, stretch marks, and moles. Sooner or later, it leads to a heavy cuddle-sex session that he knows you’ll love. 

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

The type of househusband who uses his pretty eyes and sculpted body, to get his way. Everything from seeing you at your working office and past your lunch break, to getting free food samples, all the way to a book full of coupons and all types of gifts for half the percentage. 

He’s amazing at picking food at the grocery outlet, picking up the correct portions of proper protein, vegetables, and iron. And sometimes, sneaking a few donuts, pops, and tubs of ice cream he knows you love. 

Johnny always wakes you up, the alarm rarely shaking you as your beloved husband knows your schedule by heart. He ensures your breakfast and lunch are ready by 7am, smirking at the added secret ingredients that he only knows. 

He’s more lenient with waking you up. Knowing how you like to sleep, beauty sleep he corrects, Johnny tries to let you snooze in as far as you can, before gently stirring you up as the sun rises in the opened window. 

His arms snake around your waist, cuddling up behind you whilst pulling you into his warm chest, as he nibbles on your ear and tells you to start getting up; breakfast is served on the table with awaited love. Though, if his sweet honey voice doesn’t work at this time, maybe some extremely sloppy oral will help, no? 

Johnny ensures that everybody knows you’re lovingly taken. Those hickeys and bruises on your arms, and neck show just how loveable he is. He boasts about you all the time, to his then-team, cashiers and ladies on the streets. It’s only expected you do the same, yes? 

Housewives and other househusbands either love him, or envy him. He’s pretty– too alluring to just be at home and caring for duties. Most women, and men constantly flaunt at his grown-out mohawk, often slicked back into a small bun and a few scars, especially one on his head, that prominent his face. 

He’s still in shape, working out in the early mornings and doing yoga with the other moms; who he regularly drinks coffee with. They love how sweet and handsome the man is, especially towards his spouse. 

Anyone would be lucky to have him, and many would trade a lifetime for him. But, he’s not going anywhere, not without you or your yummy neck anytime soon. 

—

Masterlist || Please support me as a writer by reblogging or commenting <3

© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[mydearzero]

Laundry Day | E.M. x Reader

Summary: Eddie tried to do his own laundry and shrunk his Hellfire shirt to a devilishly small size. You couldn't help yourself, you had to stare.

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, creampie, degradation, penetrative sex (p in v), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), grinding, dacryphilia, overstimulation

f!reader

4.8k words

When Eddie arrived at your table in the cafeteria looking like a mess, you didn't think anything of it. The boy was usually a mess, nothing strange about it. You finally glanced up and had a good look when Eddie clapped his hands together, gaining everybody's attention. You were met with the sight of his happy trail right on your eye level. You choked on seemingly nothing, hurridly looking at his face to see what he had to say. 

"Today is the day, my friends. My uncle has been gone all week and will be for the rest of the weekend, soooooo... Who's coming over?" Eddie grinned. Nobody replied, and his face fell. "What? Nobody?" 

Jeff mumbled something about you and him already making plans to stop by the day before, but the rest kept their mouth shut. You looked around the table, but everybody remained silent. 

"What the hell are you wearing, dude?" Mike finally quipped when nobody spoke up. Eddie glanced down at his torso and quickly pulled down the Hellfire shirt, which looked like it was made for somebody roughly half his size. 

"Dude, I told you. Wayne is out of town for the week. I tried washing it, but I think I fucked up. Didn't notice until I put it on. I couldn't be late again, so I'll have to make do." Eddie chuckled and took a seat next to Gareth. 

You'd noticed Eddie, sure. He was handsome. Everybody and their grandma could see that. But never before today had you dared let your mind wander there. The thought had popped up a few times, but you'd religiously forced it away. He was one of your best friends, for fuck's sake. 

The conversation continued, but your mind couldn't focus on anything besides the glimpse of skin you'd caught before Eddie sat down. Your mind was reeling with possibilities of what the rest of him could look like. 

Why were you acting as if you'd never seen a guy without his shirt? Hadn't you gone swimming with the bunch of them just a few summers back? God, get your mind out of the gutter. 

Eddie caught your distracted gaze and raised his eyebrows in question. "You good?" he mumbled. "Yeah!" Your voice was higher than you'd intended. You let out a quick cough to salvage it. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?" You cringed at how flustered he'd been able to make you without trying or knowing.

"Never better." Eddie winked. The bell rang, emptying the cafeteria. Eddie grabbed his bag (or whatever was left of it since junior year) and raised from the bench. You averted your eyes, trying to prevent another damned look towards the shortened hemline.

You rushed to class, making sure Eddie and Jeff were following behind. You took your regular seat near the back and sat down with a loud sigh. Your deskmate was skipping once again. 

The teacher started taking attendance but your attention was gone in an instant. You let your gaze fall back on Eddie. He was leaning forward, his head resting on his crossed arms, shirt riding up his back. He was sitting at the perfect watching angle; diagonally in front of you.  

There were dimples in his lower back. You were discovering things about yourself today, because shit, you definitely liked that. A tattoo threatened to poke out from under his waistband, trailing from his hips to his waist. That too piqued your interest. It must've been a recent addition. 

Whatever Jeff was whispering made Eddie snigger, which made his shoulders shake. He leaned back against the chair and stretched his arms above his head, yawning audibly. You were done for. The shirt raised to his waist, revealing the rest of the tattoo. Your legs crossed of their own admission when his hands rested behind his head lazily, pushing out his chest. 

Your fixation was cut short when a set of fingers snapped right in front of your face. "Should Mr Munson get up here? Maybe then you'll concentrate. It's me you should be watching, not your silly little high-school crush. Pay attention." Your jaw dropped at the teacher's insinuation before turning to look at Eddie. 

Eddie wore a confused smile, offering you a questioning expression. You shrugged, but your face reddened. You'd been caught and called out. 

It wasn't even a crush. The teacher made it way bigger of a deal than it was. The minuscule Hellfire shirt just brought out Eddie's best features. Was it not ingrained in humans to observe? 

You tried your best to pay attention to anyone, anything but Eddie for the rest of class. Emphasis on tried. You could see Eddie sneaking glimpses at you occasionally in your peripheral, but you refused to acknowledge his existence. Your eyes met Jeff's a couple of times, who was just as confused by the situation as Eddie. 

Luckily you had no more classes with the object of today's desires for the rest of the day. You wanted to jam your fingers between the door of your locker, just to feel something besides desire for one of your friends.  

When changing out of your gym uniform, an image of Eddie taking the shorts off you managed to creep inside your head. You shivered when you envisioned his ring-clad hands sliding down your thighs. You panicked when you realized you'd been staring into your locker with your shorts in hand a tad too long. 

Why did the thought of Eddie's hands have the ability to make you freeze on the spot? Why did you keep pulling up the vision of his shirt riding up and revealing the trail of hair adorning his abdomen? 

The mental questions continued as you packed up and strolled to the parking lot. You tossed your bags in the back of your car and buckled yourself in before taking a moment to breathe and rest your head between your hands on the steering wheel. 

You shrieked as someone opened the passenger door. "Damn it, Jeff! You can't just get in my car! Fuck!" You smacked the steering wheel as you tried to soothe your racing heart. 

"We agreed yesterday you'd drive me to Eddie's so we could jam!" Jeff yelled back in the same tone you'd given him. He dropped his guitar case on the back seat and buckled his seatbelt. You paused and remembered yesterday during lunch when you'd indeed promised Jeff a ride to Eddie's. You liked watching the band practice and create music, so it wasn't hard to agree on. You apologized quickly and noticed Eddie getting into his van across the lot.

"Don't worry about me! I'm worried about you. What happened between the two of you? He's not telling me anything." Jeff pressed as he motioned to Eddie. He elaborated when you were obviously confused. "You know, the whole thing in Geometry?" 

You'd kind of hoped that the incident had been long forgotten, but evidently, it hadn't. "I was just spacing out in Eddie's general direction. You know how teachers like to exaggerate." You turned on the engine when you saw Eddie drive off, trailing behind him. 

"You were definitely staring, to be fair. But hey! Eddie's a good-looking fellow. And he kind of has a thing for you, so I just assumed." Jeff shrugged. A thing? For you? Since when? 

The rest of the drive to the trailer park was quiet. You let Jeff's comment simmer on a small stove in the back of your mind. Now was not the time to let it boil. You parked beside Eddie and let yourself in. A light drizzle formed, threatening to fall down from the sky. 

"Hey! We're here!" Jeff shouted. You made yourself comfortable on the couch, knowing you were welcome to do so. You'd been in Eddie's trailer plenty of times. But somehow, this time felt different.

"I'll be right there!" Eddie shouted from his bedroom. You got up to go pour some drinks for yourself and the boys. "You want anything, Jeff?" He let you know he 'just wanted some water, thanks.'

"Eddie?" You called. "Yes, dear?" Sounded from right behind you as a hand found the small of your back. You whipped your face around, only for Eddie's to be mere inches from it. "Jesus..." You whispered as you put a hand over your heart. "Still just me, darling." Eddie winked as he reached for a bottle of lighter fluid in the cupboard above your head. 

You closed your eyes and held your breath as his chest brushed against you. "Sorry." His strained voice came from above you as he tried to reach for the bottle. You turned around in an attempt to shimmy away, heart beating out of your chest. Big mistake. His shirt had ridden up to just above his waist which now filled the entirety of your vision. You were caged between the counter and Eddie. The choked cry that came out of you was too sudden to be repressed. 

His arms shot down, eyes wide. "You okay? Did I step on your toe?" You shook your head no, with your lips pressed together, not daring to make another noise. Your expression was one of complete horror as you walked back to the couch and handed Jeff his water. 

"You drink it. I think you need it more than me." You realized Jeff was probably in the most awkward situation of his life after admitting Eddie apparently had a 'thing' for you. He got up without a word and grabbed his unopened guitar case. You pulled his arm with a pleading look. Please don't go. He just wiggled his eyebrows and turned to Eddie. "Bro, I just remembered I promised my mom I'd pick up my sister. I'm so sorry. See you tomorrow at Hellfire!" 

And with the thud of the door slamming close, you were alone with Eddie. 

"Did that not sound like a shit excuse to you?" Eddie laughed when he finally retreated from the kitchen. You nodded and laughed sheepishly. You felt all your muscles tighten under his gaze.

"So, you have a silly high-school crush on me, hmm?" Eddie chuckled when he sat down next to you. You couldn't help but smile. Of course, he wouldn't beat around the bush. "Yeah, apparently I do." The sound of the rain increasing outside caught your attention. Hopefully, Jeff had come home in time. 

You turned to look at Eddie as he leaned back on the couch. His stupid shirt rode up again, and your eyes betrayed you, begging for another look at his abdomen. They darted back to his, but a smirk had already formed on his face. You crossed your legs and tried to conceal the way your breath was quicking, but there was no use.

"I think I'm starting to like my new look. You?" He raised his hands to gesture to his torso. He spread his legs as he took a long drag of his cigarette. Your mouth gaped as you openly goggled. "Uh, yeah. Looks, uh, good. Looks good. Great. What the fuck." You stammered. You placed your hands over your eyes and let yourself sink into the couch. You gave up. 

"Looks great, huh?" He blew a cloud of smoke up at the ceiling. "You fucking know it does, Eddie." You moaned, giving him a death glare. "I know, I know... How could I not? You've been fucking drooling all day. Quite the confidence booster, I must say." His cigarette-free hand found its way onto your thigh confidently. 

"Jeff claims you have a 'thing' for me." Your fingers raised in a weak attempt at air quotes, but you found your brain preferred itself to function over all other bodily functions. Eddie choked a laugh as he'd just gone for another drag of his cigarette. "Jeff would be correct." 

He took a drag and leaned closer, the hand on your thigh inching higher. "Been drooling over you a lot longer than today, sweetheart." His voice was hoarse, clouded with smoke that entered your nostrils as he spoke. 

"Eddie..." You whispered, head leaning to the side. You weren't even sure what you were asking him to do. His lips made their way to your neck, leaving a trail of pecks until he reached the spot directly beneath your ear. "Give me the word." His breath made you shiver. 

"Give me the word, and I'll fucking ruin you, baby." 

Your mind flashed back to earlier today. You knew you'd been lying to yourself about your attraction to Eddie for some time, but did you really want to risk it? Was this not just you being touch-starved and desperate? Desperate for Eddie. 

"Please." Your mind was made up. It was only a breath, but he'd heard you loud and clear like the thunder roaring outside. 

Eddie didn't waste a second as he put out his cigarette hastily. He grabbed both your thighs and slid you onto your back effortlessly. His hands found your hips as you placed yours on his chest. "Last chance to back out, angel." 

"I want you to wreck me, Eddie."

"Fuck, alright." He muttered under his breath before finally placing his lips on yours. He took all the air from your lungs with desperation. His hands made quick work of your clothes. Everything but your panties. 

He was about to reach down and take off his shirt, but you stopped him. "Not yet. I wanna do it. Wanted to rip that ridiculous shirt off you all day." You confessed when you pulled him back down for more kisses. He laughed against your lips. "If I knew all it took was to rile you up was showing a little skin, I would've been labelled the town skank, not the freak. Maybe both, if we're being honest." 

You giggled and took hold of the necklace dangling in front of your face. You flipped the plectrum over and noticed something you'd never noticed before; it was engraved. "It's my mom's initials." He mumbled against your neck. "But, no time to get sappy right now." He ground his hips against yours, and your mind blanked.

You felt Eddie groan against your throat, his hips unable to stop seeking friction. His hands made their way up your chest, testing the water. He glanced up at you to ask permission, and you nodded. "I need your words if we're gonna do this, baby." He kissed your lips and awaited your answer. "Touch me." He gave you a harsh gaze. "Please, Eddie."

"Good girl, so eager for me." He pinched your nipple. Your reaction was instant, whining for him to continue. You pressed your hips up, trying to return to the rhythm Eddie had set before. A wicked laugh escaped him as he tutted. "You're so fucking desperate. It's adorable, really." 

You wanted to object, but you couldn't deny the obvious truth. You were so desperate for him, it was pathetic. Eddie did something to you you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Your chest was tight with anticipation, awaiting his next move. 

When he didn't seem to be taking any action, you went to put your hands on his abdomen. You'd been fixated on it throughout the day, after all. Eddie gave your hands a disciplinary smack and grabbed your wrists, placing them against the armrest of the couch. 

"If you want me to continue, these are gonna have to stay right there. We're doing this my way, sweetheart. They move, I stop." His teeth nibbled at your earlobe teasingly. You wanted nothing more than to roam your hands all over him. You didn't know which was worse, not being able to touch, or Eddie stopping whatever he wanted to do. 

You felt his tongue lick from under your earlobe to your nipple, taking it between his teeth. Your hips stuttered, pushing against Eddie in the best way. His hand crept down to the hem of your panties, toying with it. You were no longer in control of the noises escaping you, whines blending in with the sound of thunder. "Please, Eddie." Your eyes were squeezed shut and your eyebrows furrowed, frustrated at his deathly slow phase. 

The smile on his face was taunting, almost sinister. He didn't answer your plead. His mouth switched its attention from one nipple to the other. He was leaning on one hand while the other was touching you everywhere except where you wanted. 

When his fingers finally breached the barrier of your underwear, you sighed from the deepest part of your chest. At this point, you were breathing Eddie. He was all you felt. All you wanted to feel. You wanted him to devour you whole.  

"Been wanting to feel this pussy since fucking forever. You feel incredible, baby. Can't wait to bury my cock inside you. Gonna fuck you till you cry." Eddie was rambling thoughtlessly as his fingers stroked between your folds with the softest touch he could manage. He was torturing you, going as slow as his body would allow.

The now infamous Hellfire shirt caught your attention when Eddie's hands held the hem. You whimpered, your hands reaching forward to help him take it off. He stopped in his tracks, raising his eyebrows pointedly at your hands. You almost felt like crying and put your hands back against the armrest, frustration raging through your blood and straight to your nethers. 

He finally seemed to be undertaking real action, gradually sliding your underwear down your legs. Your lungs searched for air when he pushed your legs open achingly slow, glancing up at you with an ominous smile. 

He bent down and licked a strip from your knee to your inner thigh. "Keep those pretty legs spread for me, baby. No hands or I'll stop." If you'd known Eddie was gonna be such a tease, you might've reconsidered your actions. Patience might be a virtue, but it was definitely not one of your talents. His pace was tormenting you, and he was enjoying it to the fullest. 

The moan that left your mouth when his mouth finally made contact with your clit was primal at best. Your hands shot forward to grab his hair, a reflex, but all movement stopped. "Please, Eddie. Please. Fuck." 

He'd barely even touched you and he had you writhing, precisely how he wanted you; desperate and begging. Your voice was already so hoarse and fucked out. Eddie smirked to himself when he thought about how you'd sound when he was eventually finished with you. 

Your hands were once against pushed above your head and Eddie went right back to it, circling your clit with his tongue. Your head snapped back against the couch. You had to focus to keep your hands where Eddie demanded, as you didn't know if you'd survive him stopping again, even for just a second. 

You couldn't see what he was doing when you felt him shuffle, still mouthing at your cunt. You heard a clatter of light metal and quickly realized he'd taken off his rings. Your thighs instinctively pressed together when you finally felt his finger at your entrance. 

"You're fucking soaking for me, aren't you, darling? Want it so bad." He murmured when his mouth made its way back up your torso. You gasped when he pushed two fingers inside with ease. "You act so innocent, but you're filthy, huh? So desperate for cock. God, look at you. So good for me. If it weren't for the thunder, the whole park would've heard you by now, baby. Begging me to make you cum." His fingers sped up and curled in the absolute best spot. The pitch of your whines got higher and higher with every push of his fingers. 

"Cum for me." He whispered in your ear as he resorted to ravaging your clit. You couldn't breathe. Your legs trembled as you felt a familiar tightening in your gut. The entire room felt like it was spinning when you came on Eddie's fingers. His teeth latched onto your neck, sucking violently. How you were gonna explain the state of it in the morning was a worry for later. 

Your chest heaved, but Eddie was no better off. He was panting, jeans now so tight they must be cutting off his circulation. It was only now you'd realized one of his hands had resorted to pinning yours above your head. He was spread out on top of you, breath laboured. He was as much of a mess as you were. 

When your eyes finally met, your cheeks had the audacity to hog all the blood in your body. Were you getting flustered after this man had given you the best, most intense orgasm and was still positioned between your legs? The sheen in his eyes was one you didn't recognize. Greed. Hunger, maybe. 

When he freed your wrists, he looked lost in thought. You experimentally put your hands out to see if he would do anything about it. He didn't. Your hands were franticly trying to grasp him. You finally got them on the hem of his top and tugged at it greedily. When your fingers grazed the exquisite hair on his stomach, both of you shuddered. Your mouth had almost watered at the sight earlier today, and you were finally getting what you wanted. 

He raised his arms. You pulled the bane of your fucking existence off him and tossed it out of sight. You hooked your fingers into his waistband and pulled him in for a kiss, palming him through his jeans. "I need to- I need. I want you, now." Your mind was a jumbled mess as you tried to make clear what you wanted. 

Eddie laughed cynically. "You're such a needy little slut." He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear endearingly. "Can't even talk anymore, can you?" 

He allowed you to ignore his comments and reach for his belt. Your fingers struggled to unbuckle it, trembling in anticipation and shock after your orgasm. You couldn't help but lean down and lick the strip coming from his waistband. Eddie's eyes rolled back when he felt your mouth exploring. Your eyes fell upon the tattoo you'd spotted earlier in class. The perfect route to follow with your tongue. 

You gazed up at Eddie while you licked gruellingly slow from his waist to his navel. His nostrils were flared, and his knuckles white. You pushed his jeans down and he stepped out of them, only leaving his boxers. You resorted to leaving innocent pecks, following yet another perfect road down to his pelvis. 

You held his balls through his underwear, nosing at his length through the fabric teasingly. His fingers wove themselves in your hair, perhaps holding on a tad too tight. Your mouth ghosted over the head. A groan finally left his mouth when he could feel your hot breath through the fabric. You'd been internally begging to hear him. How he'd had the self-control to remain quiet until now had your mind reeling. 

His grip on your hair tightened, and you received the message loud and clear. "What happened to patience, hmm?" You mumbled against his clothed cock with an inebriated laugh. You fondled a bit more, but suddenly, he yanked. A shriek left you as you gasped and looked up at him with a slacked jaw. You let out a pathetic whine. 

"Don't be a brat. You'd do well to remember who's in control here, sweetheart." You'd never seen Eddie this serious, face void of any legible emotion. A knot brewed in your stomach. It almost scared you, almost, but it turned you on to an extent you weren't willing to divulge. 

You'd caught glimpses of this side of Eddie. You'd assumed it was part of his act as Dungeon Master, ruthlessly slaughtering his friends. But it was becoming obvious it wasn't an act. It was a part of Eddie that was sadistic. A part that enjoyed the control he had over the game and his friends' emotions. 

Your face was back to being practically buried in his underwear. Your cheeks flushed when you noticed Eddie's proud stare... You were fucking drooling, literally. You moved to remove the last piece of clothing, but it looked like he had other plans. You were on your feet and inside Eddie's room in a flash. 

Eddie pulled his boxers down after harshly pushing you onto his mattress. There was no time to process his actions when he pushed you backwards, covering your body with his own. You saw his hand shake as he reached for his bedside table. Condom? "I'm clean." You breathed. "I know, baby," was all he replied. 

It wasn't a condom he'd reached for. Handcuffs. Of course, Eddie kept handcuffs in his bedroom. You heard them rattle with the shaking of his hands. Was he nervous? Or was he just as desperate to get inside you as you were? He took your hand and cuffed only one hand to the headboard. "You're gonna smack that pretty pussy of yours while I fuck you." He quipped with a wink when he caught your bewilderment. 

He pinned your hips to the bed when you wouldn't stop squirming. He took a deep breath before lining himself up with your entrance, grunting when he eased his way in. He offered a few testing thrusts before setting a comfortable pace, deep and swift. "What are you waiting for, slut. Slap your cunt for me." 

Your actions were hesitant, but Eddie took your free hand in his own and brought it down on your clit with full force. You cried out at the contact and tried to grab ahold of something to steady yourself, but Eddie held your wrist and used it as leverage to push himself deeper, faster. You felt your chest bounce ludicrously. Eddie revelled in the sight. He leaned close and placed a kiss between them before looking you dead in the eyes. 

"Smack or I stop, brat. And something tells me you wouldn't want me to stop." Another slap from Eddie's hand was delivered to the sensitive bud. You tried to match the rhythm but couldn't control the movements your body made to get you to stop. The smacks were weak, nothing like the ones Eddie delivered, but he seemed content when frustrated tears formed in your eyes. 

"You're gonna cry already? That's cute." Eddie grunted. The smacks you gave yourself relented, but he seemed satisfied you'd become a teary-eyed, mumbly, whiny mess. He let you recover, thrusting agonizingly slow. 

Just when your breathing slowed and your eyes glossed over, he combined a brutal movement of his dick with ruthless fingers against your clit. "Cum on my cock. I know you can do it." He delivered a blow with his free hand to your thigh. 

Tears rolled down your face as you screamed his name. You saw white as he continued pounding and stroking. You tried to pull yourself up with the hand tied to the headboard. "S' too much," you cried, tears wetting Eddie's pillow. 

"You can take it, baby. C'mon, one more, for me?" He cooed at your whines. You could see he was close. "You look so good when you cry for me. Gonna make me cum, baby. Wanna fill you up so bad." He was rambling, closing in on his release. He bent forward and took your nipple between his teeth, pinching the other with his free hand. The strokes on your clit made you twitch, but your third orgasm was nearing. 

Your body convulsed, tightening around Eddie, whose hips stuttered and came to a halt as he filled you with his cum. You felt like jelly, uncertain how you'd ever find the ability to walk again. A lasting tingle resonated from your fingertips to your toes. 

Eddie eventually pulled out when his laboured breathing had settled. He took a smug look at his cum leaking out of you before plopping down next to you and pulling you into him. 

You lay in comfortable silence for a minute before Eddie broke it. "So... how're we doing with the silly high-school crush?" 

"You're fucking unbelievable, Munson." 

"I sure do hope the fucking was unbelievable, seeing you came thrice." A pillow made contact with his face, your free hand being the culprit. "Can you uncuff me, you vain bastard?" He chuckled and nodded, turning to his bedside table to rummage for the key. He expertly unlocked the handcuffs in a swift movement. 

You rubbed your sore wrist and scanned the floor for something to clean yourself with. Your eyes fell on the tiny Hellfire shirt. 

"Remind your uncle to never let you do laundry again." You grumbled as you picked it up and wiped yourself down to the best of your ability. 

"Oh, you still think it was an accident?" 

...

...

"What?" 

[gejo333]

Midnight Cravings

Miguel O’Hara x Pregnant Reader

Summary: Your craving for sweets is crazy during your pregnancy. But Miguel being the caring father and husband he is only allows you to eat healthy.

Needed one more day for Chapter Two of “El Destino.” To apologize here is a sweet and funny one-shot.

____________________________________________

You leaned on the kitchen counter happily enjoying the day as you pop another piece of chocolate candy into your mouth. Being only in your first semester, you were slightly surprised by how big your bump has gotten. A chuckle escaped your throat by the thought of being surprised when your husband was a giant himself. At least compared to you.

Before you could pop another sweet candy in your mouth, the bag was snatched away from you.

“Heyy! Give that back!” Your lips quiver, tears threaten to come out as you stare up at your husband.

“No cariño. These chocolates aren’t healthy for you and the baby. If you’re hungry I made you some healthy snacks to munch on.” With his other hand he opened the fridge and grabbed a container putting it in front of you.

“But Miggy.” You whined as you kept up the sad act. Miguel dumped the candy into the trash. He walked to you and pulled you into a loving embrace. He took your chin and lifted it towards him as he leaned down to give you a sweet kiss.

“I hate seeing you this way. But it’s best to eat healthy so you and our baby get all the right nutrients.”

“I know. But the craving for sweets can be so strong sometimes and I can’t help myself. It annoys me that you won’t let me indulge. But I know your looking out for me and the baby and I love you for that. I’ll try to be better.” You go on your toes to give him another kiss, which he gladly accepts.

“Thank you for understanding, mi amor. I have to go to HQ for a bit. But please call me on the watch if you need anything. I’ll be right over. See you in a bit.” He kissed you again before fiddling with his watch to open a portal. He turns around to look at you one more time before going into the portal.

…

During the rest of the day, now hitting nighttime you busied yourself with some tv, laundry, and yoga. You tried to eat some of the snacks, but every time you took a bite of fruit or vegetable your tastebuds begged something sweet to grace your tongue.

Sadly the only candy you had was taken from you by your husband. You grumbled to yourself about your husband. You loved him to the moon and back, but it wasn’t fair that he wouldn’t let you indulge your cravings.

It was starting to get late as a yawn escaped from you. Miguel wouldn’t be back for a few more hours. Since the beginning of your pregnancy, Miguel doesn’t go into work until noon to either get chores done or spend a late morning with you.

You got ready for bed and got yourself comfortable in between the covers. As soon as your head hits the pillow your mind drifts off into dreamland.

…

You woke up to a semi-silent room. Only the soft snores of your husband filling the room. You turn to see the clock on the side of your bed. It was half past 1. Turning to the other side, you smile at the peaceful state your husband was in. Your heart filled with joy when he was able to get a good nights rest.

A small groan left your lips as the sudden craving for something sweet rushed over you. You gently moved your husband’s arm from around you and replaced it with a pillow, hoping he wouldn’t wake up and notice your absence.

After a careful scare of him slightly moving, worried he woke up you tip toed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. You went towards the freezer as you remembered there was a tub of mint chip ice cream.

You grabbed a spoon and take a huge scoop, quickly putting it into your mouth. The contrast of the cold treat in your warm mouth was comforting. A moan escaped from your lips from how delicious this ice cream was. So distracted by munching on your treat you didn’t notice the figure standing behind you.

Your body jumped slightly when you felt arms wrap around your waist. You internally groan as your husband had woken up. God damn him for being a light sleeper.

“Amor, what are you doing in the kitchen so late?”

“Eating ice cream.” Your worlds muffled by the spoon in your mouth. You felt his head rest on your shoulder as he left a few kisses on your neck. You felt him sigh.

“Your not going to stop are you?”

“Nope!” Another muffled reply from you. You stopped stuffing your face and slightly turn your head to look at him. You place your hand on his cheek.

“But I promise to still eat healthy and minimize my cravings.” You smiled.

“Thank you.” Miguel kissed you on the lips. “Mint chip. My favorite.” He hummed in between kisses, which made you chuckle.

“Mine too.” You added placing one last kiss on his lips.

“Cariño, who is giving you these sweets?” He asked. You internally groan as you wouldn’t be able to lie to him.

“Gwen, Hobie, and Pavitr.” You say quietly hoping he doesn’t hear, but the ‘I’m going to murder those three,’ smile appears on his face. You chuckle at his reaction to your response. You just hoped those kids would see the next day after Miguel was done with them.

____________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[scribble-dribble-writes]

When the night calls

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Pairing: Miguel o'hara x female reader

Word count: 1800

Warnings: none

Content: hehe angst, love sick soft Miguel 🥹😌

---

When the moon rises, so does your alternate life. The one you’ve kept hidden, the one that could cause damage and let people know of your weakness. Being a superhero meant having no loose ends, strings that you could get caught by, so in a life that was deemed for you to be lonely in, you had found a way out of it.

You evaded the street scanners and cameras as you scaled the building, your fingers itching to get to a specific balcony. The lights were out, it looked like no one was there but that was all part of the illusion. To distract and keep wandering eyes at bay.

Your feet touched the cold floor of the veranda and swiftly moved towards the sliding door to see if it was open. It was a sign, if it was locked, he wasn’t home. And if it slid open like now, it meant he was waiting for you. A web of secrecy. You both preferred it this way, away from all the attention, atleast you did. But with how busy he was with keeping watch over the multiverse, these rendezvous got a lot less frequent.

Sure, you saw him around HQ or worked on a couple missions together but it never amounted to how he let you see him during these nights. His tenderness and whispers, the sound of his bare feet padding across to the bedroom, his time in the kitchen as he made dinner with his headphones on utterly lost in his own world. Nothing could be more precious.

The moment you entered the premise, you felt your wrist get caught in the hold of his arms. You didn’t protest as he led you in deeper, away from the dark and into the candlelit room. You knew you were late and during these days, he didn’t like to be left alone. You were feeling his touch for the first time in weeks, you would pass by in corridors without as much a glance or a faint trace of your fingers. So to feel his warmth sink into your bones felt intoxicating.

Having concluded you were in a safe space, he spun you around to face him, his eyes taking in every glimpse of you, his fingers shooting up to the edge of your mask to softly remove it, he was tired of all these layers of security you had established within this relationship.

His gaze finding yours in the dim light and the thirst in it meant he wanted more. He pulled you close as mumbled in Spanish, frustrated he couldn't get enough of you, to pull down the zipper of your suit, removing it from your body as though he was allergic to latex. To then wrap his arms around you as if that was the only covering allowed, when your skin was free from being trapped and free for his hands to roam about. You rested your head on his chest, his white tank top smelling fresh with the scent of his cologne mixed with laundry detergent.

The mundane and ordinary seemed more exotic and addicting than this little stunt you both were pulling off.

“You’ve grown impatient.”, you hummed.

“No more games to play?”, you chuckled to which he grumbled.

“You’re the one playing games, I’m  clear as to what I want.”, he spoke into your ear.

You pursed your lips, his fingers digging into your hips telling you in gestures how he didn’t want to be fed scraps of attention.

“You were the one who suggested this… this setup.”, you pushed away from him to catch his gaze. His arms not letting you go out his hold.

“And now when I want it to end, you keep it going.”, his eyes narrowed down on you, the candle light giving him a golden glow.

“porqué es eso?”, he leaned closer, his lips almost on yours. But you tilted your head, causing his lips to land on your cheek.

What should have been a fun night was already turning into an argument.

“Because…”, you couldn’t meet his worrying gaze, his tender eyes had a way of undoing your heart.

“If we stop this, then what are we?”, you bit back what you wanted to say and instead asked him a question in return.

He was thinking through his answer, you could tell by the way his brows furrowed but when he met your gaze, he didn’t give you an answer either.

“Exactly.”, you got out of his hold because he let you go.

Picking up your suit that laid on the floor, you made your way towards the bathroom. A warm shower felt better than continuing this conversation. But to your surprise he trailed behind you, his large frame blocking the doorway as he leaned on it.

“We’re friends, Miguel. This is all there is to offer.”, you said looking into the mirror as you tied your hair up.

“We’re more than that, amor.”, he said with certainty.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love with me.”, you laughed but he didn’t.

“And what if I have?”, he asked which made you pause as you reached for the face wash.

Your throat ran dry, all your worst fears were coming true, this setup with him worked well because deep down you both had lost your families. You lost your fiance to a freak accident much like how he had lost his home.

So this deep rooted fear never left your system, that if you began to enjoy your life, it would be ripped away from you.

“What do you want me to say to that?”, you shook it off, continuing to set up for your shower.

“I want you to tell me why you keep fighting this?”, he held a towel out for you and with every small gesture it was beginning to get difficult.

Difficult to lie to him, difficult to not confess that you loved him. But, his honey glazed eyes were on you, the fear, the anxiety, losing him would be..

You didn’t want to finish that thought because even thinking about it would lead to another heartbreak, one you weren’t strong enough to survive.

You couldn’t answer him either, you turned away taking the towel and pulled the shower curtain to a close. Maybe if you turn on the water, you could cry in peace, without leaving evidence. But it was clear that nothing was going to stop him, he peeled away the screen to join you as he got out of his clothes.

His eyes softening seeing your hurt expression, his hands slipping onto your waist again to pull you close, that his constant need to touch was somehow to reassure himself that he had hope to save this relationship, resting his head on yours the water cascaded over you both in an attempt to wash away all the distress.

“What are you so scared off?”, he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“How aren’t you afraid?”, you sobbed, his calm voice working it's way into your soul.

“We’ve both loved and lost it all.”, you wrapped your arms around him, like he was the anchor to your storm.

“How are you so sure about this?”, you questioned him, his hand traced up the curve of your waist reassuring you of his presence. That he was here no matter how heavy your grief was.

“Because its you.”, he said confidently and you braced yourself to look up at him, his eyes warm and sure.

“You’re worth the risk, mi vida.”, he wiped the water droplets on your cheeks but only you knew that he had seen the invisible tears.

Here in his arms, here in the myrrh of his words, it felt safe and secure. That this was truly possible, loving each other and living to see where it went, to hold onto him forever.

“But you don’t seem to miss me as much as I miss you.”, he confided in you, the thoughts that he had held back had now come up to the surface.

“You don’t answer my calls, you don’t let me in.”, he continued, communicating his hurt, hurt that you had caused and now you couldn’t hold back either. You placed your hand on his jaw and watched him lean into it.

“Now I can’t sleep, I can’t work, you’re always on my mind. Making me constantly worry about finding us a cure.”, you see the pain in his eyes and you were angry with yourself. Your actions had caused you to withhold the love he craved, the love he deserved, from him.

As you traced your thumb over the edge of his lips, you felt your heart break. It was inevitable, that he was so strong having survived through the worst and then here you were, given the privilege of being held by him only to let your fears to wreck it.

“So do your worst and tell me the truth.”, he turned serious and you could feel it, that if you didn’t fight for this, you were going to lose it. You were going to lose him.

“Dime que no me amas.”, he demanded but the way he held you by your shoulders and stared into your eyes, he was begging you for an answer.

Your lips parted, he was convinced you didn’t love him when you were fighting your past to let yourself to embrace a future with him. So you stayed quiet, his eyes glimmering with the faintest hope.

“I’m growing tired of this distance you maintain, querida.”, he pushed away the strand of hair that followed the flow of water to get stuck over your forehead.

“So go easy on me and tell me you don’t feel the same.”, he pleaded again, his voice turning soft, losing the authority he had when he was in HQ.

You couldn’t run from this anymore. The other truth was, you wanted this, the easy ordinary moments he cultivated with such ease, showing you that he was capable of loving you. Where you didn’t have to question his admiration or demand his affection. He gave it freely, so it was time you did as well.

“If I say I do feel the same?”, you asked and finally observed the stress melt away from his features. He sighed with relief to slowly place his forehead on yours.

“What happens next?”, you asked quietly, like you wanted to know the start of the next chapter having finally put an end to the hold your past had on you, to look ahead. To dream again.

“I would then ask you, if you would like to marry me.”, he spoke the words that seemed to reassure you that you could in fact expect the best in the years ahead.

“Here in the shower?”, you laughed as the sound of the rushing water and the haze from the steam that encircled you made it all the more magical, right here in the ordinary.

“Well when you lose a universe, you don’t exactly wait around to lose the next one.”, his eyes were alive, his smile reaching the corners of his face. Hinting to the fact that he didn’t want to lose you. His new universe, the one full of his hopes and dreams.

“So will you?”, his question hung in the air between you. His hair dripping wet over his eyes. You smiled, pushing them away to hold his gaze. You didn’t want to run anymore.

“Yes.”, you whispered and as though he wanted to seal his forever right this instant, he kissed you gently, grateful that you had granted him his only desire.

A chance to start again.

[coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic]

Distracted pt 1

Part 2 ->

Sebastian Michaelis x Fem!Reader

THIS IS SMUT MINORS PLS DO NOT.

CW: “Dear/Darling” terms used, oral f!receiving, 🐶style, multiple climaxes.

You’re the new maid at the Phantomhive manor and we’re going on your third day of training. You being a single woman with not much history of romance you figured being a maid of a high class family would be a breeze. Freedom after hours, beautiful housing, etc. Until you met the head butler, Sebastian and God is he gorgeous. I mean this man is the most attractive human being you’ve ever laid your eyes on and he was basically perfect as what he does. No flaw or hiccup in anything he did, it was almost scary. He couldn’t have been human. Even him looking at you from a time to time throughout the day would send a wave through your body, causing you to feel a little needy. You held out though, not wanting to be distracted on your new job. I guess you understood why that red headed main Mey-Rin was so clumsy especially around Sebastian.

You were going about your daily tasks, the laundry for the house, nobody touched the young lord Ciel’s clothing other than Sebastian himself and honestly you were thankful for that, less work for you to do.

Today was difficult, given you haven’t even touched yourself since before you had started your new line of work, and you had a fairy high drive that you used to keep up with on a nightly basis. But given the new environment and close quarters to your co-workers you held off and damnit was it getting rough. Sebastian had manually shown you a few things to practice for the up and coming ball that were to be held in the manor and he wanted to make sure you knew how to dance properly, it’s unlikely you’d be asked but there was always a chance he needed you prepared.

-flashback to that morning-

Sebastian walked over to you with his soft smile he always had on his face, his perfect pale face. “Ah, y/n just the woman I was looking for. Come. I need you to do something for me.” You didn’t say much as you followed him into an open area in the manor. “Dance with me a moment.” He extended his hand out waiting for you to take it. You weren’t the best dancer but you never had to do it much before. You sheepishly put your hand in his, your face saying everything you were feeling. The anxiety, the unease and the overthinking. Sebastian gave a grin and squeezed your hand slightly. “Don’t be nervous my dear, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” He pulled you close, chests touching, his hand placed on your slower back, his touch is firm yet soft somehow. He’s warm, comfortingly warm.

Oh gosh, he’s so close to you. He smells nice, clean. Of course he does. He’s perfect. As Sebastian guides you through the basic steps and possible moves one could do in a traditional dance, he grew slightly irritated as you kept looking down at your feet, soon the hand holding your back moved up to your chin and lifted your gaze to his red eyes. “Y/n. It’s rude not to look at your dance partner. It shows that you’re uninterested. Look at me from now on, understand?” He was grinning, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger and it was annoying. How could you just stare at him the whole time, your body wasn’t prepared for that much eye contact. Let’s just say it was incredibly difficult to look at him, unwavering and not fumble with your steps but you somehow managed to get through it.

-end of flashback-

Yeah, that whole ordeal replaying in your head wasn’t helping your needy situation whatsoever. You kept spacing on the simplest thing and fumbling more than usual, it was irritating you so much. Finnian asked several times if you felt alright, he must’ve blabbed to Sebastian because soon enough the tall pale figure walked over to you. His eyes held a look of concern. “Y/n, Finnian told me you weren’t feeling well. Is that true?” He asked, leaning ever so slightly over you, his eyes dancing over your body. “Oh! No Sebastian. I’m fine really, thanks for checking on me-” you were cut off by his hand on your forehead, which caused you to start blushing. His eyebrow quirked up and he sighed. “Ah, you’ve got a slight fever, come now.” He p i c k e d you up bridal style and carried you towards your quarters. It was quiet in there given that everyone else was working around the manor. It was just you two.

You protested a few times on the way until he laid you onto your bed, walking over to your door and locking it.

What..?

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit and you looked up at Sebastian, “i- um. What are you doing, Sebastian?” You ask shyly, your mind going crazy at all the possible reasons, of course focusing on the dirtiest outcomes. He walked back over towards you, sitting next to you on the bed, reaching for the back of your dress.

“One with a fever shouldn’t undress themselves. If Mey-Rin were to do it, I fear she’d rip your uniform. That’d be a hassle for me to repair. If it makes your more comfortable I can do this blindfolded.” You could feel his gloved hands tickle your back, you weren’t wearing an undershirt, this uniform was quite warm when working sometimes. You breathe deep and slow, attempting to calm your nerves and hormones running rampant. “N-no it’s fine I-… I can do it.” You could very well do it yourself, but Sebastian doing it was a fantasy becoming reality. You thought it wouldn’t get much harder until you felt a warm breath on your neck, a low voice in your ear and a hand under your uniform holding firmly onto your waist. “I know what your issue is dear, you’re a bit… pent. I know the scent anywhere.” You turn and face him, bright red across your face. “H-hey!” He was incredibly close, impossibly close without kissing you. “S-Sebasti-“ he put a finger on your lips. “If you try and keep quiet I can help you. If you’d like of course.”

What?

Your eyes grew heavy as you gave into him, how could you not? He closed the distance between you and kissed you deeply, you whining as he did so, feeling such a touch for the first time in so long was bliss, it was dirty, it was sinful but it felt so good. His eyes open, his hands running about your body, feeling every curve, every crevice, remembering your shape and taking note on every special spot that seemed to get you going. One of his hands going up your skirt, onto your thighs, pulling down a stocking and laying you onto your back. Your body’s senses were on high and every touch felt like a fire being sent to your core. This was unlike anything you’ve felt before, it was intense and he was simply touching you. He swiftly pulled up your skirt and placed his thumb on your throbbing clit, making slight movements. You pull away from the kiss with a gasp and pushed the back of your head into the pillow beneath you, biting your lip to fight the moan wanting so desperately to escape. Your climax already beginning to build from this small stimulation. Sebastian placed his lips upon your neck, leaving small bites on your sensitive areas. His fingers moving gracefully over your clothed pussy, he felt how excited you were, the soaked panties were a dead giveaway for anyone but he could smell how aroused you were, which got him excited. Not that his body showed signs of it but internally he was going to devour you. He finally pulled back and pulled your panties down, revealing a wet mess. He didn’t miss a beat starting to eat you out, there was no warning, no teasing. Just his tongue on your hot core. You went to moan but his hand swiftly covered your mouth which drove you mad, he was good. Almost instinctually you moved your head and began to suck on his gloved fingers. He looked up at you and stopped for a moment, hands on either side of you, just looming above you. He pulled his hand out and let his fingertips linger at your lips. “Bite the glove.” He commanded, you did so and he slipped his hand out. “Good girl. I didn’t realize you were so naughty. Maybe you needed this more than I thought.” He threw the glove out of your mouth and resumed position. Fingers in your mouth and tongue back onto you. You wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you silly right then and there. But the things his tongue could somehow manage to do were inhuman, your climax quickly built, it was almost embarrassing. You whined and whimpered as you came, your whole body tensing up as he rode your through your climax, letting it settle before pulling away, a trail of your cum and his saliva connecting you and his mouth. He smirked, almost amused on how quickly that happened. “My my. How sweet you taste.” Oh my God.

As his fingers left your mouth you sat up and reached for his pants. He allowed you to undo his buttons, watching intently as he removed the other glove that remained on his right hand.

As you finally got his dick out, it was hard and ready, you were about to take it in your mouth before he put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back. “No no, this is about you. I’ll enjoy myself plenty. Just submit.” You bit your lip, glancing back down at his member. “Y-yes sir.” He sure did like obeisance. He got off the bed and gestured tot he edge. “Bend over.” Holy shit what? You blinked and slowly began to move, he sighed. “Quickly now.” He grabbed your hips and brought you in front of him, lifting you with ease, turning you away and pushing you forward onto the bed. It was such a vulnerable position, your skirt covering you until he lifted the fabric and placed it onto your back.

You felt his tip meet your entrance and you whispered “oh fuck..” you heard a giggle, did he hear you?

“Such a filthy little mouth.”

He didn’t warn you, he rammed into you, having you take his entire length immediately, you couldn’t help but moan out as he did so. He soon grabbed a fistful of your pretty hair and put your face to the mattress. “Quiet now, I’m about to begin.” You bit your lip hard as he showed you no mercy. His quick and rough pace were enough to make you see the gates of heaven themselves. Well maybe gates of hell with how this was going. You were burying your face into the mattress moaning into it to muffle whatever you could. His name was your new favorite word, along with a string of words of your full submission. You felt your core begin to heat back up as you felt another orgasm coming quickly. He obviously felt it too as you tighten around his dick, your walls memorizing his shaft and forming to welcome it. It was the first sound you heard from him, a subtle grunt but it was proof of his own pleasure from this.

The room was filled with lewd sounds. The muffled moans, the slaps of your bodies, the absolute mess you were creating, the creaking of your bed frame. All of it being permanently trapped in the walls of your quarters. You’d never walk in here again and not think about this.

“That’s right. Cum for me, darling. Be a good girl and cum.” That was it, you were sent flying over your edge with another intense climax, bigger than the one before. As he slowed down your body twitched at every subtle move, you attempted to regain your breath but you could hardly move your legs. “S-Sebastian… but you didn’t...” You looked over your shoulder at him while he was cleaning up from the utter mess you made on his dick. “Oh dear y/n, I’m not sure you could handle the work it would take for me to cum myself.” He smirked. The way he said it didn’t make it sound condescending or cocky, just matter of fact. You shot up, shakily. Looking at him. “No! I can! I don’t want you to be disappointed or left unattended to!” He lifted your chin up once again, getting absurdly close. “Trust me darling, I’d break you. I don’t want to do that. If I want some more fun, you’ll hear a knock. Now rest.” With that he left you, in your sex filled room, cum soaked sheets and disheveled hair. What a filthy girl you are.

[chimielie]

cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”

[its-the-pilot]

Waves | Rooster x Reader

| Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

My first Top Gun fic, please be nice and enjoy!

Summary: Fourteen years after leaving without saying goodbye, Bradley Bradshaw comes back into your life. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Working on this as a series, let me know what you think and if you want to see more!

Message or comment to join the taglist!

Chapter One

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.”

Bradley immediately recognized the voice behind him without needing to turn around. He shook his head before downing the shot of bourbon in his hand and throwing his next dart, scoring 13. He’d never claimed to be good, but the unwelcome distraction didn’t help. “Hangman. You look… good,” he replied flatly, turning to face his fellow aviator.

Both men were wearing their service whites, customary for the mixer held for TOP GUN students the night before beginning training. “Well, I am good, Rooster. I'm very good. In fact, I am too good to be true,” Hangman gave his usual smirk as he picked up Rooster’s last dart from the table and threw it, hitting the bullseye without even looking. “Didn’t think they let old timers in.”

They had met a few years earlier in flight school, and they instantly had a rivalry of sorts. Bradley had been several years older than the rest of the pilots in the program, due to not being able to attend the Naval Academy like he wanted. It took him years longer than it should have to become an aviator, and there was a bit of a chip on his shoulder because of it. Hangman, cocksure as ever, had instantly picked up on that weakness and exploited it to the best of his ability, pointing it out every chance he got. Some things never changed.

“Didn’t think they let assholes in either, but here you are,” Rooster shot back, taking a long pull from the beer on the table beside him before moving to gather his darts off the board.

The younger man chuckled, the insult seeming to roll off him like water off a duck’s back. “C’mon now, Rooster, we’re old buddies! Some older than others,” He smirked, sneaking in another jab as he patted him on the back. “Don’t take it so personal.” Hangman did a quick once over of the bar, his grin still firmly affixed to his face as he noted the number of women in attendance for the evening. “Plenty of delectable dessert options tonight, why are you holed up over here all by your lonesome?”

“I’m here to fly, not fuck my way through Coronado.”

A boisterous laugh escaped the tall blonde’s mouth. “Someone doesn’t know how to take advantage of a situation when it presents itself. Your callsign really is fitting.” Straightening his uniform, Hangman’s eyes locked on to a pretty woman approaching the bar. “If you can’t get laid in Whites, you just don’t know what you’re doing. Watch and learn, Rooster.”

Bradley rolled his eyes and turned back to his dart game, draining his beer as Hangman walked away. As fun as it might be, he had no desire to watch him make a fool of himself in front of an entire bar with his cocky attitude.

-------------------------

You recited the drink order for your table a few times in your head as you walked up to the bar, raising your hand to get the bartender’s attention. Your coworkers Kendra and Hazel had wanted to come out tonight, knowing that the new crop of TOP GUN candidates would be here, dressed to the nines. You hadn’t been interested but they wore you down, telling you they would pay for your drinks if you just kept them company for a few hours. You secretly hoped it wouldn't take them long to find a couple guys to take home, so you could get on with your uneventful evening of laundry and prepping for work.

“3 beers, 3 vodka shots,” you ordered, passing a $5 tip across the bar. Sliding onto a barstool as you waited, you made a cursory glance around the bar and groaned to yourself, shaking your head. You couldn’t understand what the appeal was, most aviators had more balls than brains and were just looking for a quick lay.

It only took a minute of waiting for your drinks before you felt a warm, solid presence accompanied by a pair of hands resting on the bar top on either side of you, covered in white sleeves. “Not interested,” you said in a sing-songy voice, not even needing to look up to know it was a new TOP GUN aviator standing with his chest pressed gently against your back.

“Not even gonna give me a chance?” He asked, his southern drawl coming out as he leaned close to your ear.

You turned as much as you were able with his body so close and gave him a look, your eyebrow raised. He was handsome, tall and blonde, with striking green eyes, but his uniform was enough to turn you off. “Nope. I don’t date aviators.” Lord knew you had a lifetime’s worth of experience with them.

Your uncle Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had raised you from the time you were eight years old, after your parents died in a car accident. Growing up around Navy pilots gave you an aversion to them, and in your line of work, that was more helpful than you could imagine. You worked with aviators day in and day out in your job as an Aerospace Psychologist, and getting personally invested with the pilots would have consequences.

He chuckled, leaning back only slightly to allow your movement as his eyes traveled over your body. You wore a cabernet colored maxi dress with wedge sandals tied to your feet with white ribbons, like pointe shoes, and you had never felt more exposed than you did right then as he licked his lips, looking at you like prey. “You’re in the wrong place then, darlin’. We’re all aviators around here.”

“Well aware,” you sighed, turning back to the bar and waiting for your drinks. When the bartender approached and set your drinks down, you smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Penny.”

The older woman grinned back, always happy to see you. She’d known you most of your life, though she was in and out of it at the will of your uncle, a typical flyboy incapable of settling down. You would never understand why she kept coming back to him after he broke her heart so many times. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, looking him over briefly. Penny knew how you felt about Navy guys, but she enjoyed teasing you.

“Not my--”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin, ma’am. Callsign Hangman.” He offered his most charming smile as he cut you off and lifted his right hand from the bar to offer it to Penny.

You immediately took the opportunity to duck under his arm, grabbing the drinks on the bar in front of you. Penny laughed as Jake watched you slide away from him and head back to the table with your coworkers. “Better behave, she’s the owner,” you called back, your hands full of glasses.

“A pleasure, Lieutenant,” she took his hand and shook it before wiping down the bar where your drinks had just been. His eyes followed you across the bar, and she snapped the back of his hand with the towel. “You won’t wear her down. She’s got a million reasons not to go anywhere near Navy guys. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

When you got back to your table, you snuck a glance back toward the bar, watching Penny give Jake what she was sure was a warning about you. He didn’t look phased though, and within minutes he had moved on to another girl a few seats away at the bar, repeating the same move he had done with you.

“Predictable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as your coworkers chatted, rating the various aviators in the bar. You largely ignored them as you took a long drink from your beer, looking out the window at the sun setting over the ocean when you heard the tinkle of piano keys interrupting your thoughts. The old upright in the bar hadn’t been played in as long as you could remember, usually the only time you heard it at all was when someone got too drunk and fell into it.

From your seat you could only see the back of the man playing, but you could tell he was an aviator. Dressed in his service whites, his broad shoulders were pulled back with perfect posture as he tapped away at the keys, getting the feel for the instrument before he started playing an all too familiar song.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, Too much love drives a man insane…”

The sound of his voice made your stomach flip as if you were in a F/A-18. “No fucking way…” you breathed, not taking your eyes off of the back of the man’s head as he played.

“What?” Kendra asked, stopping her conversation with Hazel to turn in the direction of the piano player, then back to you, confused as to your reaction.

You didn’t answer as you stood, your steps cautious as you made your way across the bar in his direction. It couldn’t be. It had been nearly fifteen years since you last heard from him, the night he left for the last time.

Without saying goodbye.

“Jesus, Bradshaw! Not this song again! Is it the only one you know?” Hangman complained, not far from the piano and chatting up what was probably his fourth girl of the evening. Hearing his name was all the confirmation you needed.

Bradley wasn’t deterred by Hangman’s whining, instead he just continued singing, the bar joining in. He had always been good at being the center of attention when he wanted to be.

“You broke my will, but what a thrill, Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

Moving closer, you slipped into his line of sight without a word, a combination of emotions you didn’t understand bubbling up inside of you. He looked just like his father from the pictures you had seen, but at the same time he was still the teenager you had known so long ago.

“I laughed at love ‘cause I thought it was funny, You came along and…”

Looking up, his voice trailed off and his fingers faltered on the keys, making a sour note as he made eye contact with you. There was a long, awkward moment of silence as the entire bar watched on, curious as to what was happening.

He couldn't believe you were standing in front of him. The last place he had expected to find you was anywhere near anything having to do with the Navy, even if it was just a bar. And now here you were, staring at him as if you were seeing a ghost. Though he supposed he didn't look too much different. “You look good, Dimples.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the nickname, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. The same hand flew to cover your mouth as you gasped at the realization of what you did. He didn’t immediately turn his head back to face you, and it made you feel even more nauseous.

It was so quiet a pin could drop. Embarrassment flooded over you and your eyes moved around the bar frantically before landing back on Bradley. When you realized his eyes were still on you, a sob only muffled by your hand escaped before you turned and ran out the back doors to the beach, barely stopping to get your purse and tell your friends you were going home on your way out.

There was no way this wouldn't be the talk of North Island tomorrow.

It remained silent until the door to the deck slammed shut behind you, then people started whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at Bradley. Hangman had a smug grin on his lips as he stepped up behind his fellow aviator, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned down to speak quietly.

“Damn, Rooster. I thought I was the only one who could earn that level of ire from women. Kinda hot, right?”

He shoved Jake’s hand away and stood, grabbing his cover off the top of the piano before heading toward the door you had exited from. “Fuck off, Bagman,” he snapped, hoping you hadn’t gotten too far.

Chapter Two

[teddypickerry]

Can you do a Jess Mariano blurb where the reader is helping Jess with his homework but he keeps trying to distract her by kissing her lips and neck? 😄 (think of the episode “teach me tonight” but with Jess and the reader dating and he’s kissing her like he kissed Rory in S3 EP10 when they’re walking and kissing)

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 !

pairing! jess mariano x gn reader

warnings! imply of sex (i think that’s it?)

word count! 833

a/n! took me forever ‘m sorry!!! this is also not my best work but back & writing for my boy is good enough for me. <3

the diner was quiet on the particular evening. despite the typical eight o'clock late dinner rush, the door were locked and a red 'closed' sign hung from the blue painted door. the only sound erupting throughout the small former hardware store was the sound of your voice reciting the words from the textbook balanced on your thighs. you were leaned back in your chair, your legs pressed against the table with the book pressed into them. your hair was falling in-front if your face which kept the attention of the boy who sat beside you everytime you pushed it behind your ear.  "and the trail of tears was what year?"

your head bopped up from its current slouched down position as your eyes caught glimpse of the dark haired boy sat beside you. he was leaned on the table, specifically over his book. his head rested on his palm as he held his head up from falling down in boredom.

"is your hair shorter? it looks shorter." your boyfriend was far from an idiot. but in this moment you honestly doubted him. jess was one of the smartest people you'd ever had the privilege of knowing. hell, he was way smarter than you. but here you were sat helping him with history... and geometry, and biology. it wasn't like you were the smartest person in school, but you got your fair share or a's. plus you knew how serious luke was about his nephew passing the twelfth grade. and you'd do anything to get your boyfriend on a good path.

"1828 and 1829." you explained to him simply before continuing onto the next page, him leaning closer to you. it wasn't hard for the smell of cheap cologne, cigarettes, and luke's laundry detergent to catch your attention. especially when you glanced up at your boyfriend's face far too close to your own. "i like it." he mumbled as he lightly pressed his finger to your face, pushing back the strand of hair that fell once more. no matter how long you'd been together, the small touches and glances still made you go mad. "you liked president andrew jackson's racist speech against the cherokee?"

"no," he rolled his eyes at your statement as you tried to diffuse the way he was making you feel on this tuesday evening. "your hair. it's a good length... and you know — i know all about good length."

his comment resulted in a laugh escaping your lips with a smirk growing on his face. jess felt accomplished for making you laugh, especially when you'd just spent half an hour explaining nonsense to him. "okay cmon, back to work." you ordered as he stayed in his exact position. you were about to scold him for not taking this study date seriously. but you lost time when his lips pressed to yours. your eyes immediately shut as your hands cupped his face. he deepened the kiss and leaned over the table to press into you even more. you found yourself getting lost in the kiss that warmed your soul. but before you could be taken by him, you pushed away and pressed your lips together. "jess, we're studying."

"okay we can study," he nodded as he positioned himself back on the chair and balanced a pencil between his fingers. which immediately caught your attention. "i'll start with the inside of your mouth and you can start with mine."

"jess," you hinted with a tone reaching annoyed. he let his smirk grow a bit before glancing around for a moment. "'mkay tell me more about the Indian Removal Act," he shrugged. you gave him a proud smile and muttered a "gladly" before opening the next page and reciting the next paragraph. you were only two and a half sentences in when you felt him move closer to you. and then some more... then some more.

it was when you finished the first paragraph that you felt his dark curls against your jaw as his lips connected with your neck. his arms wrapped around you as he continued to harass your neck with several kisses that would definitely leave a mark. something jess was certainly good at. "jess! we have to study!”

"no, i think you've got this stuff pretty much down." he mumbled as he pulled away for a second before you felt the feeling of his lips reaching your sweet spot. you held in a breath as you found yourself not fighting the feeling for a moment. "you need to learn this stuff if you're going to graduate, jess. please, work with me." you begged as he drew his face away slowly. just enough so that you could face one another. "and after, if you get a b... you might just get something starting with a b.”

the glow on the boy's face suddenly erupted with slightly wider eyes. he simply sat back as he sat his textbook in his lap, leaving only one arm behind your shoulders. "mkay, teach me tonight."

[enhafilthandfiction]

Enhypen hyung line reaction to you walking around naked in the house to lighten their mood when they are mad

Hyungline's reaction to you walking around naked when they're mad

A/N : Hello anon, thanks for requesting! Sorry for the long title y'all, happy reading!!

Pairing : Bf!HyungLine X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Nudeness, kisses, grinding, tit groping, mentions of oral (f.rec), thigh riding, mentions of angry sex.

Word Count : 1,250 Words

Masterlist

» Lee Heeseung «

He was still frustrated with yesterday's recording session which didn't go so well. Apparently, his voice kept cracking and he couldn't hit the correct notes which is why he came home so upset, basically ignoring you and heading to bed early.

You knew he wasn't mad at you, just upset with himself, but the fact that he ignored you was annoying. Today he wasn't going to however.

He woke up grumpy, just like yesterday, groaning and sighing out in frustration as he thought of the day before. You weren't even in the bed, which upset him even more.

But as he gets up to go to the bathroom for his morning routine, he catches a glimpse of your naked form down the hallway. He stops in his tracks, watching as you enter the washroom, possibly doing the laundry.

He makes his way down the hallway, entering the washroom to see that he was right, finding you bent over, picking up clothes from the floor.

"Well what do we have here" he says, startling you a little, but you smirk, your plan going as planned. He places his hands on your hips, pulling your bare ass back to his clothed crotch, where you could already feel a bulge forming.

"Hi baby" you say, turning around to properly greet him, his eyes going wide as you flash him with your tits. He takes a second to respond, being too focused on your tits, hands coming up to grope them and message them in his hands.

"Uh- I-I'm doing fine, now" he adds, eyes still focused on your tits. "Yeah, now I'm definitely fine" he clarifies, before you giggle and get on your tiptoes, grasping his lips in a kiss. He kisses you back, his tongue pocking your lips already.

"Ew, go brush your teeth and come back" you say, breaking the kiss and continuing what you were doing. He rolls his eyes and makes his way to the bathroom, mumbling a "Be right back" and he was right back; In 2 minutes.

» Park Jay «

Today was just not it for him. Everything he was doing seemed to be wrong, even when he tried cooking something. All he tried to cook was some ramen, but he accidentally forgot it and it kinda over cooked, making the ramen soggy.

He had had enough, and you realised, but you didn't expect him to slam the pot on the counter, the banging noise alerting you. You wanted to calm him down a little, and you knew just what to do, undressing yourself and making your way over to him to distract him. How can he be mad at you?

The second he noticed your pretty naked figure walking around the kitchen counter and over to him, he felt his heart beating faster, but not because of how angry he was seconds ago.

You came behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face into his back. "Hi baby, everything okay?" you asked him with a soft tone, acting as if you weren't naked.

"Well, I messed up my ramen, but it's okay cause you're here" he assures, turning around to get a better view of your bare body. "Gosh you're just what I need Y/n" he admits, running his hands along your body.

"Yeah?" you ask him, giggling and watching as he nods.

"Who want to eat ramen when I can eat you anyways?" he says shamelessly picking you up with ease and taking you to the bedroom. You squirmed around in his hold, begging him to let you down.

He put you down on the bed and got between your legs, ready to distract himself from his though day.

» Sim Jake «

"I've told you like a hundredth times now, for fuck's sake!" You can hear Jake yell on the phone from the other room, and from what you can understand, he was having trouble with work again.

"No- Cancel that meeting and move it Monday instead" he orders, his patience being tested a little too much "Are you stupid? I literally asked you to do something-"

bla bla bla

You were tired of hearing him yell at his stupid assistant who couldn't do something right. You wanted to soothe him, but you were also pretty horny. The button up he was wearing was so hot, especially with the first few buttons open.

Your fantasies almost started to run before you got an idea. You took off your clothes until you were completely naked. Oh this was going to be a good distraction. You walk out of the room and make your way over to the main living room where Jake was in.

You walked around like you weren't naked, ignoring his gaze and pretending to check if the shelves had any dust. You could hear him sigh, turning around to face him and watching as he motions you over.

He places the phone down and mutes it. "Hold on give me a minute" he barely finishes his sentence before muting it and placing it on the coffee table, ignoring his assistant's annoying voice. "You're so pretty baby" he simply says, running his hands down from your shoulders to your ass, giving it a squeeze. "But I have to take this call, so be quiet"

You pout as he grabs the phone again, placing it to his ear before sitting down on the couch, beckoning you over. He makes you sit on his thigh, placing his free hand on your lower back, guiding you back and forth on his thigh whilst sharing glances with you and mouthing words. "You're doing so well baby, keep going"

His voice was much calmer when talking to his assistant, your presence distracting him when he gets to angry.

» Park Sunghoon «

You and Sunghoon had just had a rough fight just a few hours ago. You had complained to him that you were doing all the chores in the house and that he was breaking his promise of helping out. He on the other hand, claimed that he couldn't help with he house chores since he was too busy with work.

You both yelled at each other, accusing one another until he got mad and went outside for a walk. Once he was out, you couldn't stop thinking about him, you were still partly angry at him but also kinda horny for how riled up he got.

You decided to calm down his nerves a little, undressing yourself as you head to the kitchen to start dinner. He came back shortly, maybe after 15 minutes, only to find you fully naked, cooking dinner. "Oh, so this is your way of making up?" he asks, scoffing.

You shrug and continue what you were doing, paying him no mind, waiting for him to break. Which he did shortly. He made his way over to you, pressing his body up against you. "What do you want huh?" He asks you, almost starting to grind against you.

"I want you to do the dishes after dinner" you said with a forced smile.

"Fine, but you gotta let me fuck you first" before you could do anything, he pulls you out of the kitchen and throws you on the couch, getting undressed himself before climbing up behind you.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you're gonna forget why we were arguing in the first place" and he did, taking his and your anger out by fucking you hard and fast, till all you could think about was him.

Hello, this was actually fun to write, proudly wrote it in one sitting!! I hope you enjoyed reading, have a good day/night and remember that ily <333

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Orange Peel Theory

I've seen a couple of other writers do this for other characters, and I always think of Jack when I see this on TikTok. The theory states that if your partner peels an orange for you without being asked, it's a sign of true love. I think Jack would pass this with flying colors.

You knocked your head back against the headrest and shut your eyes as the garage door closed, darkening the room. It was only 9am and you were already struggling to get through the day. You gripped the steering wheel, the rubber squeaking beneath your palms as you rubbed back and forth to try to release some of the tension in your shoulders.

The morning consisted of tears and snippy arguments with your family as you tried to get your daughter ready for pre-school with a baby on your hip, and a husband who seemed too distracted with his own career to notice that you needed help. It was taking everything in you not to drive away for a moment's peace, anything to allow you to take a breath. You took a second to collect yourself before heading inside.

You kicked off your shoes as you passed the front door, throwing your keys into the overflowing bowl of junk you kept on your hall table. Aaliyah's shrill cries flooded your ears as soon as you passed the threshold, her sounds of distress making you uneasy. You pinched the bridge of your nose to stave off a headache that was building at the base of your neck, your body aching with exhaustion. You walked deeper into the house, passing piles of toys and shoes, reminders of the chores that you had waiting for you when you returned.

"Babe, is that you?" Jack called out to you, and every muscle in your body tensed as you heard his voice. You just knew he was going to ask you to do something for him, like everyone else in your family did. They always needed something from you, and you weren't sure if you had anything left to give. You walked toward the sounds, finding him in the kitchen.

He stood over the sink, trying to wipe spit up off his new designer shirt, his phone balanced between his ear and shoulder. "Can you send me the contract? I wanna know what I'm signing." He nodded in your direction as he took his shirt off and left the kitchen to toss it in the laundry basket. You picked Aaliyah up, bouncing her on your hip as you began to clean up the table, remnants of a difficult morning strewn around the room.

Jack re-entered the kitchen in a clean shirt. "Sorry, I was trying to feed Liyah while you were gone and she spit up all over me. I don't think she likes the food you made her. Might need to try something different." You let out a sigh, trying to calm your breath. "She's liked it every other time I fed it to her. What's different now?" You didn't mean to sound so irritated, it just came out that way.

Jack took immediate offense. "I don't know, babe. She just didn't like it." His gaze was focused on his phone as he shot off text messages. "Don't wait for me to get home to have dinner, got a late night at the studio." He didn't even look up to gauge your reaction, and you were glad, because you knew you looked pissed off. "Okay", you groaned out, placing a few dishes in the dishwasher.

With the clutter at least out of the way, Aaliyah finally quiet with a bottle in her bouncer, and Jack leaning against the counter and occupied with work, you got that brief moment of silence you were so desperate for.

It was quickly over when you heard your stomach growl with hunger. In the rush of everything, you'd forgotten to eat breakfast.

Jack's let out a hum, the backlight reflecting on his face. "Did you eat anything yet?" You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. "No. Things got a little crazy this morning, it was the last thing on my mind."

Just the thought of cooking something was too tiring, so you searched the counter for leftovers from Brooklyn's breakfast, spotting an unpeeled orange on her plate she wasn't interested in eating. You lifted yourself onto the counter and grabbed the fruit, palming it in your hand for a second. You weren't sure where it came from, but the Orange Peel Theory you'd seen on TikTok popped into your head.

You'd seen videos of wives and girlfriends testing their partners by seeing if they would peel an orange for them without having to ask. If they did, they truly loved you, and if they didn't, you were an afterthought. It was a silly trend, and you knew it meant absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things, but you were curious.

You looked over at Jack, his messy, chestnut curls falling over his eyes. You knew he loved you, and even questioning it felt ridiculous. Everything around you was a product of the love you had for each other, including two beautiful daughters who carried the best of his features.

Still, sometimes, you felt like an afterthought, and right now, you needed a reminder of where you stood with him, for your own sanity.

You pressed your dull thumbnail into the thick skin of the orange, digging till you felt the flesh of the fruit on your fingertip. You purposely struggled to pull back the peel, letting out a soft grunt. That got Jack's attention, his head turning to look at you as he placed his phone on the counter.

He took in the sight of you, your shoulders slumped over, your hair an unintentional mess, how tired your eyes looked as you put all of your focus into the simplest task in front of you. You looked small, fragile, and while he thought the world of you, you were one of the strongest people he knew, always taking care of everyone and everything around you, right now, you needed someone to care for you. He felt a wave of guilt rush over him, his stomach turning. He'd been so preoccupied with his work; he was drowning in it, honestly, and didn't want you to worry, but he also neglected the most important person in his life.

"What do you wanna eat for breakfast?" He gave you a gentle smile as he took the orange from you, and used his manicured nail to begin peeling back the rind. "That's okay, Jack, I can do it myself." He ignored your protest, separating each segment on a plate and handing it to you. You took a bite, feeling your hunger immediately start to subside.

"Pancakes? Omelette? Or I can go run and get you something."

"Pancakes sound wonderful", you said with a grin, orange juice dripping down your chin. "Here, I've got it." Jack chuckled as he bunched his sleeve in his fist and wiped your chin. "Babe, that's your brand new shirt. You just bought it."

"I don't care", he shrugged. You chuckled as he put his hands on his hips and surveyed the kitchen, trying to think if he even knew how to make pancakes. He saw your brow knit together, holding up a hand to you. "Don't worry. I'm gonna figure it out. Just give me a minute."

You jumped off the counter, moving to wrap your arms around his waist, leaning against his chest. He rubbed your back, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I've got it babe. You passed the test."

Jack backed away, a confused look on his face. "What test?" You explained to him the TikTok trend, Jack's face dropping as he listened.

"Baby, if I ever made you second guess how much I love you, that's on me. I'm so sorry."

"Jack, baby, you didn't. I promise, I'm just overwhelmed by everything going on. Sometimes its a lot. I doubted myself, not you." You pressed a hand to his chest to reassure him. He grabbed at your fingers, pulling you into his body when you tried to walk away. "This only works because of you. All of it. My job, the girls, you are the glue that holds everything together. I am nothing without you, okay?"

You felt a lump build in your throat, tears beginning to brim in your lashes. "Okay", you croaked with a sob, pressing your forehead to his chest. "I love you, baby", Jack muttered against your hair. "I love you, too.", your voice squeaked.

"No more TikTok tests, alright?"

"Alright", you giggled as you wiped a tear off your cheek. "I had no doubt you would pass, though."

"We're just lucky it was only peeling an orange." Jack joked, tickling your sides. "If I had to actually cook something, or kill a spider for you, we'd be having a very different conversation right now."

Tag-List:

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@rafeslutt

[navybrat817]

What's Yours is Mine

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: You like to borrow Bucky's shirts, so he decides to try one of yours. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, reference to explicit sexual content, established relationship, roommate!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Eighth day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Stud and Smartie! Inspired by this ask here from @sparklesannie. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You joked with Bucky after doing laundry one day that you weren’t sure why you had so many clothes. You had a tendency to wear the same few outfits, the fabric worn enough to break them in just the way you liked them. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the other things you owned. You just preferred to be comfortable when you were at home.

You didn’t realize how happy it made Bucky that you used the word “home” instead of “apartment”.

Of course, you considered Bucky to be your home and ultimate source of comfort.

“Do you ever wear your shirts anymore?” he asked when he walked into the living room with a mug in each hand. “Not that I’m complaining. I love my clothes on you.”

You stopped typing as you glanced down at yourself, briefly staring at the blue fabric of another one of Bucky’s tops that you declared as your own. He had worn the shirt enough that it was soft and faded a bit, but still perfectly intact. It was one of your favorites.

“You love your clothes on me so you can take them off,” you winked as you shut the laptop and set it aside.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as set the mugs down, his gaze lingering on your chest. You arched your back when he kept staring. As much as the shirts comforted you or kept you warm, some days you wore them to entice him. Not that it took much to make him crave you. No guy ever made you feel so wanted.

It’s fun when he snaps and goes feral.

“You love it, too,” he smirked when he took a seat beside you and casually rested his arm on your shoulders. “And let me guess. You got cold.”

“I did and it was right there on the back of the couch,” you said, tucking into his side.

“You always get cold when you see one of my shirts lying around,” he teased, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. “A blanket would’ve been warmer.”

“Maybe, but I wanted to wear your shirt,” you said.

“I’m not getting it back, am I?” he asked.

“We can share,” you answered, smiling at him when he chuckled. “What’s yours is mine, Stud.”

“So, what’s yours is mine then?” he asked, bringing his face close.

“Yes,” you smiled, his lips almost touching yours.

“I want you to remember that,” he said before he kissed you.

You didn’t get to ask him why since he spent so long buried inside you that your drinks got cold. You would never complain about that kind of distraction. Bucky was good like that.

As you went through your drawer the next day, his words rang in your head.

“Where the hell is it?” you asked yourself, sifting through the small stack of sweaters. "I know I had it in here."

“What's up?” Bucky asked from behind you. "Looking for something?"

You looked over your shoulder as your boyfriend walked further into your bedroom, your eyes glued to the shirt he was wearing. The pink, oversized top that looked amazing on your beefy man. The very sweater you had been looking for.

How the actual fuck does my shirt look better on him?!

“I don’t know why you don’t wear this more often,” he said, running his hands over the fabric with a smirk. “It’s comfy.”

“I know it’s comfy. That’s why I was going to wear that,” you said, turning to face him with your hands on your hips.

“And now I’m wearing it. You sure you don’t want to pick from that pile?” he asked, pointing to the stack of shirts near your bed that belonged to him. “Plenty to choose from.”

Okay, maybe I have been hoarding them.

"You went in my drawer."

"You went in my drawer last week to take a shirt."

Touche.

“That’s not the point!” You tried not to laugh as Bucky did a twirl, like he was modeling for you. “Did you take that as payback for me stealing yours?”

“No,” he chuckled when he stopped. “But remember you told me once that you liked wearing mine because it was like I was holding you?"

You bit your lip and nodded, recalling the flood of humiliation that flooded you when you admitted that to Bucky. Like the good boyfriend and roommate he was, he didn't make you feel bad or weird about it. He never would.

“Maybe I wanted to feel the same thing,” he said casually. “That and I think pink is a good color on me.”

He may have initially taken the shirt to tease me, but he loves the comfort, too.

“A very good color on you,” you smiled as he stood in front of you. “And I did say what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.”

Bucky held your chin up his metal hand, his eyes and smile soft. “That’s the second time you’ve said that, Smartie. I thought that saying only applied to marriage.”

“I’m getting a headstart for when we get married,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Oh, why did I say that?

His expression softened more. It was easy to imagine what life would be like years from now. How he’d still dance with you in the kitchen or read while you put together a puzzle. Each day wouldn’t be perfect. There would be obstacles and some days would require more work than others.

It would be worth it though because you’d face it together.

“So, I can keep taking your sweaters even though we aren’t married yet?” he asked, moving his hand to your cheek.

Yet. He said “yet”. Does he want to marry me?

“You can take every shirt I own,” you said sincerely, putting your hand on top of his. “As long as I can keep taking yours.”

You didn’t know at the time that Bucky planned to reference the shirt stealing in your wedding vows.

“What’s mine is yours, Smartie.”

I think it goes without saying that I love them. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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