#it/its and they/them for lovebug by the way

[tspstuff]

May I present a ship that the world didn't see before???

TK X HUMAN LOVEBUG!!! (timebug)

[lollytea]

Willow calls Hunter honeybird it's important to me that you consider this

[comatosebunny09]

international | sylus

summary: sylus likes to play dangerous games. today, you happen to be his rook piece. warning(s): female anatomy described, explicit language, dirty talk, bodily fluids, exhibitionism, reader's attire is described, profanity, blue balls of the female persuasion, praise kink now playing: devil's advocate - the neighbourhood notes: something i threw in @muvaginger's inbox. i'm sorry for my mind. thank you for reading, lovebugs.

Sylus, but calling you when you’ve just gotten off work.

“Are you home?” he asks, all husky on the other end. He knows you aren’t if the telltale shadow cast by a crow circling overhead is anything to go by.

“Not yet.”

“Well, get there.” Amusement resides in his voice. You have half a mind to tell him off for bossing you around like that. Like you don’t secretly enjoy it.

“Yeah, yeah. On my way.”

You hang up and shove your phone into your pocket. Put your helmet on, throwing your leg over your bike’s seat and settling on the cushion. Start it, the engine purring to life beneath you. After waving goodbye to Tara, you peel off, zipping through the energetic streets of Linkon towards your home.

Inside the lobby, your phone buzzes again. You roll your eyes, shoving your earpiece into your ear as you trudge through the lobby.

“What!” you grate out.

“Moving a little too slow there, kitten.”

If only you could punch him through the phone. You tamp down your anger, switching tactics. “What’s this about, anyway?”

He chuckles low and throaty, the sound of it prickling your brain. “Patience is a virtue.”

You scoff. “You’re one to talk.” Asshole, you add inwardly.

You catch the elevator to the floor where your apartment resides. Slide your key in, easing through the door into your entryway. Barely have time to set your keys down before a sharp rapping snaps your attention to the door.

“Open it,” Sylus orders.

Hesitant, you pivot towards it. Fingers twitch near your hip where your gun’s holstered. Slowly, you reach for the handle, mindful of your steps.

A soft laugh rings in your ear.

“Easy, sweetheart. It’s not an ambush. If I wanted to off you, I would’ve done so by now.”

“I never know with you,” you clip back, turning the doorknob.

After mentally counting to three, you throw the door open and peek outside. Silence and an empty hallway greet you. You glance left and right. Up and down the hall until a large, crimson box catches in your peripheral, seated on your doormat. You fetch it, admiring the black ribbon intricately wrapped around it.

“What’s this?” you query, kicking your door shut once you’re back inside.

“A gift.”

“Another one?”

His tone swims with nonchalance. “What can I say? I enjoy spoiling you rotten.”

You test the weight of the box. Shake it, hearing tissue paper and something heavy stir inside.

“Open it.”

You oblige. Tear the ribbon and top off, eyes curiously raking over the box’s contents. Inside is a long, black trench coat. Beneath that rests a long-sleeved, silk blouse. Deeper still lies a simple miniskirt, and you test its material between your fingers. It all looks and feels incredibly expensive despite its simplicity.

“Put it on,” Sylus instructs through the stillness.  

“What? Why?”

“Because you have a train to catch in—” A brief pause. “One hour.”

“What the fuck? A train? An hour? Sylus—”

“Time is ticking, sweetie.”

The phone clicks with his exit.

You throw the clothes onto your couch, scrutinizing them over folded arms, chewing your lip. It’s 50 degrees out. Where the hell does he think you’re going dressed like this? Does he plan to use you as bait or something?

Your phone buzzes again on your coffee table. You fetch it to see a QR code for a train ticket sitting in your inbox.

“Shit,” you hiss, scrambling for your bathroom to shower. He’s serious. There really is no time to spare.

He’d better have a good reason for being so cryptic.

—

“The second to last car,” he husks in your ear. “Meet me there in five.”

Your lips contort into a scowl. You rip your earpiece out, wending through the train’s other passengers to pursue your goal.

In the corners of your vision, the scenery outside the windows eases by. Greenery nestled beneath the snow, somewhere remote. It’s beautiful. You take time to admire the sights before finding your way to the second to last car.

The door slides shut behind you. It’s quiet, save for the occasional rumble of the train upon the tracks. The passengers here are sparse. It’s a luxury cabin, decked with armchairs, faux plants, and an expensive carpet.

You survey the area, spotting an unmistakable thatch of white nestled in the rear seat. Try to mask your giddiness as you make your way towards the back. It’s been a few days since you’ve last seen him.

Wordlessly, he motions to the seat across from him when you venture to his side, wearing that customary smirk. You plop down, folding your arms. Bite back a smile of your own, favoring a frown.

“What’s this all about?”

Sylus leans back in an easy slouch, and the way he manspreads makes your mouth water. He peers down at you from his nose, draping a long arm over the headrest of his seat. His turtleneck and coat do little to disguise the power of his body. The tendons in his neck dance. Jaw flexes. He motions to your lap with a flick of his gaze.

“Touch yourself,” he rasps.

Your eyes grow comically wide. “Excuse me?!” you hiss, mindful of your volume. Look around to ensure no one’s the wiser to your conversation. No hello. No I’ve missed you. No preamble whatsoever.

His smug look doesn’t waver. “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.” There’s an underlying edge to his voice. One that doesn’t leave room for argument. Still, you contest him.

“Sylus, there are people here!”

That enraged whisper thing you do—it’s endearing.

Sylus’ eyes darken with something sinister. He hasn’t stopped watching you since the moment you sat down. Hasn’t stopped raking his eyes over your honeysuckle thighs, your hips.

“They can watch,” he drawls with an innocent shrug.

“Sylus!”

“Sweetie, I’m not asking.” Though he bears an expression of amusement, you can tell he means business. Consequences typically follow when you don’t heed him. Delicious consequences.

You swallow thickly. Sylus’ silhouette blurs as you survey the car over his shoulder. There are at least three other passengers here, all seated near the door you came through. More than enough distance between you. Your lover bleeds back into focus, his brow raised in challenge.

With a weighted sigh, you shift to make yourself more comfortable. Loosen the tie of your coat, drawing it open whilst easing your hips forward. Hesitantly spread your legs, feeling Sylus’ optics tuned to your every move. Something hot and sticky has already begun to gather in your panties, and your nipples tighten beneath the frail silk of your blouse.  

He cutely cocks his head to the side when you hesitate. Eyes narrow. “What’s wrong, sweetie,” he croons all low. You feel it coiling in your stomach. “Scared?”

You cut your eyes to him, mouth drawn into a tight line. Of course you are. You’ve never done anything like this. He’s introduced you to all kinds of things. Uncovered fantasies lurking deep in your mind. Discovered all the erogenous zones on your body you never knew you housed, but—

Exhibitionism is new. Dangerous. And somehow, the thought of it makes you wetter.

“Go on,” he soothes. Encourages, irises dipping into a mysterious shade of garnet.

Your body moves of its own volition, spellbound. Thighs part a little more, hands smoothing over plump flesh. You sigh out, leaning back as you drag your nails over the inner curve of your thighs, bunching your skirt up towards your hips. A little more enthusiastic now, teasing your swollen outer labia with the knuckles of your thumbs.

Sylus’ mouth parts slightly. His gaze flickers downward, entranced by the show and the soft hitch of your breath. He looks back into your eyes, clicking his tongue in discovery. Reaches out a sizable hand, leaning towards you with his elbows digging into the pockets of his knees.

“Panties. Take them off.”

Your tummy sparkles with heat. He quirks a brow. He’s serious. It’s not enough to touch yourself like this in public. He wants you bare and exposed, staining the armchair with your heat.

Without a word, you shimmy out of your underwear. Thin and frill as they slide down your calves, over your ankles to pool at your feet. You compliantly deposit them into his hand. A bitten-off growl brews in his chest. He falls back against his seat, stuffing your panties into his coat’s inner pocket for safekeeping. Signals for you to keep going, fully invested in this game.

You repeat the process from before. And it’s a new sensation now, the crisp air of the train car kissing your sticky pussy. You try to think of other things. Try to distract yourself from the smolder of his gaze and how it makes your body hum and your mind fill with smoke.

You think about his fingers instead of yours, stroking down the slit of your pussy. His fingers rubbing at the hood of your clitoris, drawing it back to stroke your pretty, swollen clit. His thumbs sliding over your nipples, causing your back to arch, his tongue laving at the space behind your ear…

Your hips stutter. You stifle a moan. Sylus slides in and out of focus, your vision fogging around the corners. He chuckles amorously, shifting in his seat. “Don’t stop,” he nurtures, eyes burning like a feverish flame. His dick sits heavy in his slacks, slowly hardening and twitching.

You salivate. Knowing that he’s enjoying this as much as you gradually are—fuck. You bite your lip, propping your leg on the chair’s arm. Spread nice and wide for him, your pussy on full display.

You rut against your fingers, your face screwed up in rapture. Legs quiver each time the pads of your fingers bump your messy clit. You construct a rhythm that’s maddeningly slow and torturous. Feel that sparkling rush lazily pooling between your thighs, but it’s not enough. Wanna be filled and stuffed to the brim with cum.

His cum.

A glimpse at Sylus reveals something that makes you throb. He’s touching himself. Humping into the palm of his hand, hot and weighted through the thick layers of his clothes. Fuck. You pulse.

“Syl,” you sob quietly, wetly, wantonly. “Syl, please—”

“Use your fingers,” he breathes all ragged. “Inside.” Angles his head back until it thumps against the headrest. Doesn’t look away, still rucking his hips up into the heel of his palm like the slow undulation of a wave.

You indulge, circling the pucker of your pussy with your fingers. Steadily work one inside, and you sigh, tossing your head back. Caress your tits with your free hand, plucking your nipples to their peaks as you drive your finger in and out. The lewd, squelching sounds you make as you torture yourself causes your walls to clench down.

Sylus’ voice crackles, pouring through the fizzy haze that’s settled over you.

“One more. You can take one more, can’t you, sweetie?”

You moan at how his voice oozes like warm milk and honey. You’re obedient, gradually adding another, pumping in and out. A thick ring of cream collects around your knuckles. It’s still not enough. Never enough.

“That’s my girl,” he lauds, relief in his timbre. “So good for me. So, so good.”

“Sylus,” you sob, fucking yourself a little faster. Wish it were him instead, filling you up and pumping you with the briny edge of his cum. There’s a warm fluid trickling down your leg. Heat spooling in your tummy.

He greedily ingests the sight of you fucking yourself, groaning hoarsely. You’re so close to spilling over the edge, so close to losing yourself to an orgasm. And you would—

If not for the sound of footfalls nearing your position.

“Shit!” you hiss, snapping your legs shut. Work your skirt into some semblance of neatness, throwing your coat over your legs. Your cheeks and neck are aflame, pulse pounding in your throat, pussy throbbing.

You don’t make eye contact as the gentleman passes, too busy looking at your fingers in your lap. He’s none the wiser to the goings on in your section—or, at least, he acts like he isn’t—as he bows with a small smile, slipping through the door behind. Sylus tracks his every move, and if looks could kill…

Your heart thrums heavily in your ears. You caution a glance at your boyfriend, taking in his flushed cheeks, his heaving chest. He’d thrown his coat over his lap to disguise the monster pressing against the seam of his trousers.

You lock eyes. His lips pull into a scowl as he sits up, pitching himself forward. Cants his head to one side, voice abrasive and low.

“Did I tell you to close your fucking legs?”

A thrill racks through you. It’s rare that he curses, only sullying his tongue when he’s upset or too far gone. It turns your stomach to a primordial ooze. Without warning, Sylus gathers himself up, snatching your wrist along with him.

You stumble like a baby fawn to your feet, gazing into those eyes that dwindle like liquid spilled over burning coals.

“We aren’t done here, sweetheart,” he promises with a tense jaw. Tugs you from your seat and down the aisle, all the while fishing for something in his pocket. A quick glance reveals a barcode, and a number printed in bold letters on a bit of plastic. A keycard. The sneaky little…

He peers at you over his shoulder as you both maneuver through the throng of passengers in the remaining cars, back towards the front. Your features warm with a smile. Legs tingle.

You weren’t aware that this train had sleeper cars, but you’re grateful to know it does. Your body buzzes with the prospect of what’s to come. He’s not done with you, indeed.  

hair down | masterlist | nuisance

[ryescapades]

i come with a request for a narumi and captain!reader established relationship except reader is vv bold with conveying how she feels like shed casually drop an "i love you" to a random officer that helped her carry stuff over to her office,,,,, n like for the scenario maybe its the first time kafka's interacted with her and he recognizes her as someone who very vocally/physically fawned over mina over at the 3rd's base, so he meets her again on the 1st's base n she starts shamelessly fawning over him too

then he proceeds to see her getting close with hasegawa n the other officers and kafka thinks he just got lovebombed by mina's gf (😭) he finally sees her getting especially affectionate with narumi, kafka tells him about her behavior n narumi's like "she always like that" and then proceeds to complain to kafka about it (I DESCRIBED IR TOO LONG IM SO SORRY😭😭😭😭😭😭😭)

lovebug | kaiju no. 8

characters: narumi gen x fem captain!reader

genre/warning: fluff fluff fluff, a bit of whiny narumi lol, NOT PROOFREAD, reader's division is not mentioned, kafka-centric, slight spoilers from manga ch 40+

a/n: tqsm for the req :> i don't mind long msgs in my inbox so don't worry abt it !!

it's not often that the third division is visited by other captains for business occasions; usually for training regimen meetings, joint missions or assessment purposes.

however, in your case, most of the time it's only for fun.

the first time hibino kafka saw you, you were on your way into ashiro mina's office, a recruit from his own division trotting behind you while holding a stack of books (you were there only to casually read while spending time with mina at the same time).

kafka watched from the corner of the hallway as the officer leaves the office, their arms now free from the earlier load. you peeked your head out the door, shouting out a cheery "thanks for the help. much love, dear!" before blowing a kiss towards the officer, causing them to blush and bow profusely before scurrying off.

kafka wouldn't have thought much of it, assuming that you're just an overly nice person in general, regardless of your high rank. but he stopped in his track when he heard what you had said before mina's office door closed.

"mina, babe~ you're looking as beautiful as ever! do you wanna go on a date later?"

mina has a girlfriend? and she's also a captain?? kafka thought, surprised and quite amazed at the idea. what a power couple...

and so, the next few encounters he had with you whenever you visit the tachikawa base were all filled with squealed praises and admiration for mina, along with tons of endearment terms for the other officers.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

the news about kaiju no. 8 being a human and working with the defense force spread fast.

kafka had long stopped pondering about mina and her rumored girlfriend. it's already been months since the first encounter anyway.

or so he thought.

because a few days after the shinagawa neutralization operation ended, he met you in the hallway at the ariake base. and this time, you were the one talking to him instead of him observing from afar.

"hibino kafka... is it?"

the man who was on his way back from training, turned around to see you leaning against the wall. your hands were shoved in the pockets of your uniform, eyes steeled and locked on him with such curiosity and judgement that it had the man freezing in his place.

she looks cautious... is it because i'm a kaiju? he panicked internally, readying himself just in case you decided to pull out a gun and take him out right then and there.

"captain y/n... i—"

"oh damn, you really are the real deal!" your bewildered tone woke him up from his wariness. he was then rendered speechless when you walked around him in a circle, excitedly grinning while you observed every part of his body from head to toe.

"i didn't really believe it at first when general shinomiya said no. 8 was a human but looking at that untransformed kaiju part on your hand, i guess i'm convinced now. hmm, older in age, above average height, i bet you're even taller in your kaiju form... oh, you have decent muscles too! you're amazing, kafka-kun!" you gushed.

he was barely listening to your words, flustered from how close you were in his proximity. "i watched some clips of you on the internet too! you packed a helluva punch that's for sure! and i heard that you blasted away that yoju bomb in tachikawa! that's so cool—"

seconds away from combusting out of embarrassment, kafka was saved from your onslaught of praises when a few troop members from the first division and vice-captain hasegawa turned the corner where the two of you were at. "captain y/n?" hasegawa greets.

"oh, hasegawa-san! long time no see!" relieved that your attention had finally switched from him to the older man, kafka watched as you skipped your way to the group of people and pulled hasegawa into a hug. the second-in-command smiled, giving you a friendly pat on your back before you started chatting away with the first division members.

kafka wondered how mina handles having an exuberant partner such as yourself...

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

kafka noticed you again in the mess hall when he was eating his dinner.

this time, you were talking with platoon leader shinonome just beside the entryway to the hall. your hands gestured around wildly, and the other woman snickered from time to time from the story you were telling.

suddenly you stopped talking, for something— or rather someone had caught your interest.

"gen!" your squeal of excitement made the spoon that was almost into kafka's mouth pause.

his eyes drifted to the entryway, and he stared cluelessly as captain narumi walked over to you, letting your arm wind around his tapered waist. the action was done so smoothly, so languidly that it seemed natural.

shinonome must've said a teasing remark to cause the captain to snap at her irritatingly, if the pink hues smearing his pale cheeks were any indication. soon enough, the platoon leader excused herself to leave you and narumi alone.

the two of you engaged in a hushed conversation, but sure enough everybody in the hall— no matter how barren it currently was— witnessed the way you placed a quick kiss on the notorious narumi gen's cheek and patted his face a few times. the frown that was previously there was replaced with a softer, almost pouty look.

the older man didn't realize he had been staring down at his half-eaten meal in silence when a figure slid into the chair next to him.

"the heck you staring at, hibino?" narumi questioned with a raised brow.

kafka blinked. with you no longer in sight, he looked at the captain for a moment before speaking, "captain y/n... she's so... sweet...?" he started slowly, and then he just couldn't stop.

"i don't know how she does it but every time i see her it's always with different people. my heart almost couldn't take it when she excessively complimented me yesterday... she used to gush so much over mina to the point i thought they were girlfriends! they even went on several lunch dates back then. i was so convinced about it but then i saw you with her just now, captain. so now i'm really confused—"

he was cut off by a hand slamming down on the table next to him. "i know right!!! she's always been like that, even before she was a captain! and that was, what? years ago! that y/n! always out for my blood, testing my patience every damn second when she runs around telling 'i love you' to everyone!" narumi cries out before burying his face in his hands, groaning frustratedly into them.

if kafka didn't know any better, he'd think the first division's captain was whining. he just assumed that narumi thought you were being too invasive with the captain's personal space.

although, narumi's next words sent him into another dimension of befuddlement altogether.

"i'm her partner, not ashiro or anybody else's!"

kafka couldn't help but to choke on his food after that.

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[the-s1lly-corner]

Can we get the rest of the HH characters for the pet names headcanons please?

Pet names with various HH characters part 2

going to go ahead and write the rest of the characters i usually do for HH since this is such a short post in general- so no 3 parter here! characters: lucifer, adam, lute, carmilla, rosie, velvette, vox, emily, cherri bomb notes: reader is gn so any gendered petnames will be changed if possible, they pronouns is used for all characters but thats just because i copy pasted stuff and didnt feel like editing LMAO, very short post CWs: none

LUCIFER

What you call them: Any version of the Pie names and hes all yours. Honeypie, Sweetiepie, Apple Pie, and so on! He cringes a little at cutie patootie and shnookums but he still accepts it

What they call you: Hon, Honey, Dear, but sometimes he likes to lean into some of the more casual ones! Sunshine, or a shortened version of your name, and so on!

ADAM

What you call them: Likes being called Handsome, Hunk is another one though its said more jokingly, Baby is another common one

What they call you: Babe is his default! However every now and then he drops in a more... vulgar... one, however for the most part its only used in the bedroom or when the two of you are alone

LUTE

What you call them: For a while she's only going to let you call her by her name, or some of the more common/tame names... Baby, Hon, things you hear fairly often... she seems to like Hon more

What they call you: She tends to just call you by your name. Its going to take her a while to choose a name for you, it takes some time for her to open up to a lot of stuff actually...

EMILY

What you call them: She likes almost anything you want to call her so long as its not dirty or a little mean, she really likes Sunshine though

What they call you: Shes going to call you nearly everything under the sun until she finds something that feels right coming out of her mouth that you also like! Lovely and Sweetheart/pea are common!

ROSIE

What you call them: Sweetie, Lovey, Pumpkin seem to be ones she really enjoys!

What they call you: Darling, Dearest... and albeit in a teasing way, she sometimes calls you princess/prince

VOX

What you call them: Lovely, Lover, Lovey tend to get a good reaction of him so you usually use those when referring to him

What they call you: He says your name a lot of the time, however sometimes he calls you babe and sweetheart.... do you think sometimes he calls you his steady because the was used in the 50s...

VELVETTE

What you call them: A shortened version of her name, you sometimes call her Sweet Cakes as a reference to... well, velvet cakes... always gets a side eye from her but its normally lighthearted

What they call you: Babe/Babes, and Baby are the main ones that she calls you but sometimes she calls you Boo though its not used often

CARMILLA

What you call them: she trends to prefer her name as well, however she does enjoy when you call her Love or Dear

What they call you: Amor/Mi Amor is her main go to when using terms of endearment for you, she rarely ever uses anything else. its typically either that or your name outright

CHERRI BOMB

What you call them: You sometimes jokingly call her Firestarter or Firebug/fly, you sometimes also call her Firecracker, things like that that kind of relate the explosions- fire stuff! she likes them!

What they call you: Babe, Boo, Lovebug, to name a few however Babe is the most common!

[lovebugism]

stevie smut based on those boat photos is not a want, but a need

18+

Steve’s initial glimmers gold on your sun-kissed skin — a swirled S in the middle of a dainty chain. 

Despite its simple statement, you know it must’ve cost him a fortune. That’s not to say he even noticed the small dent it made in his bank account, of course. You know he bought it for you without thinking twice. But to you, still a broke college student at heart, the tiny thing feels so much heavier.

Imposter syndrome creeps up your spine like the cold hand of a ghost. 

Just yesterday, you were studying for finals, and now you’re on a yacht off the coast of Venice. Six months ago, you were living in a slum of a studio apartment on a top ramen only diet. Now you’re in Italy, with real gold around your neck, on a boat that wasn’t yours, drinking wine you didn’t pay for.

You know it’s all because of Steve just as much as you know he’s doing this for you because he loves you. You just can’t believe that it’s happening to you. 

What did you do to deserve any of this? To deserve Steve? What could you possibly give him in return to show how grateful you are for all of it? What do you give him that he can’t already buy?

“What are you thinking about, hm?” the boy himself questions as he appears in front of the leather couch you’re lounging on. He holds two glasses in his hands, one full of whiskey and the other white wine. He hands the latter off to you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum innocently in return. Your sundress falls to your lap when your knees bend to invite him next to you. His arm curls around your legs to pull them back over his khaki-clad lap when he sits down. His hand rests on your bare thigh.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he argues, squeezing softly at the plush skin — not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you giggle into your wine. “You’re doing the thinking face.”

“I am not doing the thinking face.”

“You so are,” he counters with a gentle grin and sparkling eyes. You didn’t think unbelievably wealthy guys could be as cute as he was. “What is it? Are you hungry?”

You shake your head against the pillow. “No. I’m good.”

“Do you feel okay? Are you seasick?” 

His tone is soft with concern. He’s already got himself all worried. 

Steve’s hand leaves your thigh to push his sunglasses to the top of his head, forcing his honey locks back in the process. A few ornery strands still hang over his forehead. His chocolate eyes, deeper than a thousand oceans, melt with concern. “Do you need me to call another boat? Should we go back to the hotel—”

Your giggling puts an end to his panicked rambling. He squints while you hide your smile with your wine glass. “What?” he lilts with a smile, still halfway worried that you’re coming down with sunstroke.

“Nothing,” you hum when the laughing fit ebbs like a low tide. You tilt your head to your shoulder and smile. “I just love you.”

You swear you see him sigh in relief.

“Oh, you’re just lovesick, huh? That it?” 

The way he coos at you — sounding almost degrading even though you know he’s only joking — makes your thighs squeeze shut. His warm fingers are caught between them.

“Very,” you nod like you’re proud to be. Because you are. 

You’re lucky to love a guy like Steve. Even luckier that he loves you back. 

Wind whips through the collar of his white button-up as he props his elbow on the back of the couch, facing you more. The top of his shirt is unclasped to reveal the cinnamon scruff on his chest that he also sports on his unshaven jaw. 

He’s too hot to smile so sweetly down at you.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, obviously insincere as he scrunches his nose. “Think I might’ve given you the lovebug…”

You shrug. “’S okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… As long as you stay sick with it forever.”

Steve’s sculpted features melt as he gazes down at you. He goes kind like he’s about to tell you how stupid you are for even thinking he could be anything other than crazy for you. 

Despite the strange angle, he begins to lean toward you, sitting his whiskey down on the glass table in the process. “Oh, honey, I’m gonna be sick over you for the rest of my life.”

“Ew,” you giggle at his wording, reaching for his stubbly cheek anyway. You scoot slightly over to accommodate his body.

Your mouth puckers for an innocent kiss that he’s more than happy to give you — one, two, then three of them, to be exact. The fourth one is far too languid to be called a peck, too wet and too full of tongue. 

You sigh against him at the tenderness of it, like a first love or a last one.

Steve’s hand is still pressed between your warm thighs, still trapped between them lest he think about moving it. His other bends at the elbow to prop himself up. It’s not like he’s going anywhere anyway, not from where he’s squished between your body and the back of the couch — with your legs thrown over him and your free hand clutching his face to yours. The other is wrapped around his neck and still holding your wine.

You lick sinfully into his mouth, like a kitten to milk, just before you part from him.

“Wanna buy you a necklace, too,” you tell him, breathless and quiet and seemingly out of the blue.

A crooked smile quirks on the right side of his rosy mouth. He knows you can’t afford it. The thought is cute, anyway. “Yeah?”

You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as your hand curls around the base of his neck. You can feel the thrumming of his pulse against your thumb. 

“Wanna put my initial here,” you confess lowly, glassy eyes never leaving his honeyed ones. “Want everyone to know you’re mine, too.”

“Too?” he echoes with a smile, too full of love to be smug. His hand twists between your thighs and moves like syrup beneath your dress. He cups your bikini-clad cunt and grins. “‘Cause you’re mine, huh? Is that it?”

You nod. 

A moan leaves in a fragile sigh from your parted lips when his finger sneaks beneath the fabric. He rubs you, up and down one time, just to feel how wet you are and to smile when he finds you’re soaking. 

“Always been,” you tell him through bated breaths.

“Always been.” He repeats it like a vow. When he leans down again, you think he’s going to kiss you. You’re heartbroken when his lips meet your warmed cheek. 

You taste like lotion and sunshine, like new adventures and nostalgia. 

“Let’s get you to a bed, yeah? So you can show me who I belong to.”

He says it like a courtesy, like he’s giving you an ounce of the power he normally keeps for himself. But you know your place. You know he’ll ruin you soon enough. You’ll forget your own name before you can make him repeat it for you. 

You love it.

Steve rises off you and extends a hand to help you up, too. You trail happily behind him, knowing where he’s leading you — what he’s leading you to.

Your glasses sit abandoned beside one another, going warm beneath an orange sun.

—————

“God, honey. Fuck,” Steve swears. 

His grunts mix with the sinful slapping of your thighs against his lap. His happy trail and trimmed bush are soaked with the slick you drip for him. He squeezes the plush of your hips to help guide you up and down over his cock. 

“Takin’ my dick like a fuckin’ champ, baby. Like you were made for it, huh?”

You nod, slacked mouth and panting. Little whimpers spill from your swollen lips every time you move down over him, every time he hits the spongy spot deep within you that only he could ever reach. It feels like so many little strikes of purple lightning — too much to bear, but still not enough.

His golden initial sways above your breasts as your tits bounce in front of his face. He desperately wants a taste of you, to take your stiff nipple into his mouth, but he doesn’t want to take his eyes off you. 

“You’re so pretty, honey, you know that?” he babbles, heavy eyes flitting back up to your fucked-out face. It’s hard to talk with your snug cunt squeezing him somehow tighter. His words spill through gritted teeth. “Pussy’s pretty, too. And so— fuck— so good for me. Shit, honey… ‘M gonna come if you keep riding me like this…”

You moan in a delicate cry at his admission. Pride swells in your chest to know you’re making your boy feel as good as you do.

One hand clutches the pillow beside his head while the other takes purchase on his neck, the place you’ve got a newfound adoration for. You don’t choke him, though. You’re too gentle for all that. But not so gentle that you don’t know how to kiss him breathless. 

Your mouth engulfs his own, swallowing him whole and making him forget whose air he’s breathing.

His hands trail from your hips to your ass. He grips the fattiest part with wide, warm palms and spreads them apart. He imagines how his cock must look sinking into you, shining with your honey and his pearly pre-come. He imagines your fluttering cunt swiping against his heavy balls.

You hear him spank you before you feel it.

The smack comes just before the high heat that blooms across your right asscheek. “Steve,” you moan, unabashedly needy for him as ride him harder than you had been just before. The way he hit you felt like encouragement, rough but still tender.

The bed begins to rock beneath you like the yacht your man has put you on and the bright blue sea that carries the two of you.

Your wet cunt sucks his cock inside of you, taking him deeper and deeper even though the feeling of him so far within you borders on painful. Desperate and whining for him, you keep taking him like you were made to do it. 

Because you were. 

“Yeah, keep bouncing, honey. Doing so good for me,” he manages a fucked-out smile when low squelches start to fill the lavish studio. “Pussy’s perfect baby— god, fuck.” 

He cuts himself off with a groan when you tighten around him, tossing his head back on the fluffy pillow that you grip for dear life. 

“No pussy’s ever been this good for me, you know that? Always so good… How am I— shit— How am I ever supposed to stop fucking you, huh?”

“Don’t,” you squeak out. It’s the first intelligible thing you’ve said since you started riding him. You pout, scrunched browed and jutted lip, as your orgasm creeps up your sweat-slick spine. “Don’t want you to ever stop fucking me.”

Steve nearly bursts right then.

He doesn’t mean to take over — to hold your hips still and prop you above him while he plants his feet on the mattress. He doesn’t mean to fuck up into you, but he’s gone just as stupid as you have. His cock twitches and jerks within your snug pussy, and he wants so desperately to come. More than that, he wants to make you come like he knows you’re bound to.

“Yeah? You love my dick, don’t you?” he laughs through bated breaths — like he isn’t rightfully dumb over your pussy. “You always get so slutty for it.”

You don’t know if you want to protest or agree with him. All you do is moan as your fingers dig into his furry chest. The wet slap of his balls against your ass entwines with your cries and his taunts.

“Yeah, you do,” Steve coos, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. He still talks so softly to you like he isn’t fucking you for all you’re worth. “Go ahead, honey, cream on my dick. Make a mess for me… Gonna sit you on my face after, okay? I bet you’ll taste so sweet for me when I’m done with you.”

Your mouth falls in a silent cry. Your pussy spasms around him at the thought of his mouth between your legs, slurping at your honey and his come that leaks from your gaping hole.

“Get yourself there for me, baby,” he commands in a gentle murmur. “Take this dick. Take what you’re given—”

And just like always, you do. 

You orgasm on his stiff cock a second later — not coming, but gushing. His heavy cock jerks inside you right after, spitting several warm loads into your trembling cunt. 

His wide hands find purchase on your sweat-slick back, holding you to his scruffy chest while his hips buck against you, pushing his dick as far as you’ll take him. And, like the good girl you are, you take him all the way.

You take everything he gives you — come, orgasms, and gold necklaces alike.

When your senses return and your heavy breaths go even, Steve feels you smile against his neck. He thinks he must have fucked you so sufficiently stupid that all you can do is grin through the rippling aftershocks of your high.

That’s only half true.

You just know that he’s worked up an appetite after having fucked you so ardently. And you figure he won’t need a piece of jewelry with your initial on it when he’s wearing your come on his chin. 

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 28

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

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AIRIELLEJONES

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AirielleJones: nights like these ❤️ @ uceyjucey

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trinity_fatu: oooh i just love y'all together! (❤️ by author)

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~September 1st 2021

“Airielle…” Josh whispered against her lips, removing his hands from her waist and placing them on top of hers, which was now on his belt buckle. He chuckled when Airielle pouted against his lips. “I already told you, starting over means starting all the way over.”  Airielle threw her head back and groaned, tightening her fingers on his belt buckle when he tried to move them again. 

“Joshhh…,” she whined, stomping her foot a little, making him chuckle again. “Fine, what if we just cuddled?” She tried to compromise, and Josh almost nodded, but the mischievous twinkle in her eyes stopped him. “My dad’s not home, and I’m pretty sure Tamia is sleeping, so we can just go straight up to my room.” She trailed off, tightening her grip on his belt and tugging him closer to her.

“You hell, man,” he chuckled, closing his eyes again as he felt his will slipping away. “You gon let me do this right or what?”  Airielle rolled her eyes with a huff and dropped her hands from his belt. 

“Fine,” She mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“You such a damn brat” He laughed before placing a quick peck on her lips. “Go inside, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, Yeah.” She mumbled, turning her back to him to hide her smile and unlock the front door. 

“I love you,” he called out after her, laughing when she flagged her hand at him. He waited until she shut the door before walking back to his car. He paused as he passed by her new Audi in the driveway. “We gon have to do something about that,” he muttered before getting in his car and driving away. 

Josh lay awake, deeply regretting not taking Airielle’s offer to cuddle. But like he told her, he wanted to start over with her. Josh wanted to prove to her that she was the only girl for him, and jumping back into bed with her was not the way for him to do that. Sighing, he grabbed his phone and opened up their text thread. 

To AirielleJ: u still mad at me? 🥲😔 From AirielleJ ….. From AirielleJ: No  To AirielleJ: Good, miss u lovebug  From AirielleJ: boy, you could have been here, but no… you wanna be all gentleman like n shit 🙄 From AirielleJ: I mean… I can come over there… 🤔

Josh groaned and rubbed his hand over his face; he wanted her to come over so damn bad. He sighed and looked around the room he was currently sleeping in. He highly doubted Airielle wanted to sleep on a twin bed decorated with NFL sheets. 

After his talk with Airielle, she voiced how having Yara at his place affected her. And Airi was right. Josh wanted his apartment to become their apartment. He wanted his bed to become theirs, and he had tainted it by letting Yara into his apartment. Before he could respond to Airi, his phone started vibrating with an incoming FaceTime call. 

“Is there an issue?” she asked, getting straight to the point. “Because you didn’t wanna stay with me, and then I’m asking if I can come over there, and you’re just ignoring me.” Josh bit his lip to stop himself from laughing at the cute little scowl on her face. 

“Rih. I want you to come over. I just have nowhere for us to sleep.”  

Airielle furrowed her eyebrows. “What?” she asked, and Josh sighed before getting up and walking out of his boys' room. He flipped the camera around as he stepped into the living room, and Airielle’s jaw dropped at how bare it was. “Did you get robbed? Where’s all your furniture?!”

“I got rid of it,” Josh stated as he turned the camera back to him. “I- Like you said, I wanted this to be our temporary home, and I fucked up by letting Yara in here, So I got rid of everything she touched.”  

“Oh,” was all Airielle said, her eyes widening as he turned the camera again and showed her his bare bedroom. 

“I meant what I said about starting over. A fresh start for everything.” 

Airielle nodded, wiping the lone tear that slipped out her eye. She didn’t know why she was crying. Nobody had ever done something this grand before. “Don’t go to sleep,” she said before she ended the FaceTime call, leaving Josh to stare at his black screen in confusion. 

Josh was scrolling through his Instagram feed. Even though he was dead tired, Airielle told him not to fall asleep yet, and that was trying to do. He closed his eyes, the phone almost slipping out his hands, when there was a knock on his door. 

“Mr Uso. Open up!”Airielle sing-songed from the hallway, and  Josh chuckled and went to open the door. “Surprise!” Airielle called out with a big smile on her face. Josh opened the door wider so Airielle could walk in. 

“Whatchu’ doin here?” He asked, eyeing the bags in her hand. 

“Well,” she started, grabbing the air mattress box and going into Josh’s room, with him following her. I wanted to cuddle, so I came up with a solution,” she said as she unboxed the air mattress and set it up. I love you, and nobody has ever taken my feelings into consideration like you have. You got rid of half your apartment, Josh.” 

Josh just shrugged. “You told me how you felt about me having Y-” He stopped when he saw her flinch a little. “About me doin’ what I did, so I felt the need to make it up to you. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable here.” 

“Awe,” Airielle said softly, a slight pout on her lips as she stood up from the floor and kissed him. “Thank you,” she whispered against his lips before stepping away. Now, lay down. You look like you’re about to drop.” 

Josh playfully rolled his eyes but did exactly what she said, watching as she pulled some candles out of one of the bags. She went to place one of the candles on the dresser and frowned when she noticed the spot where it was empty. She looked over at Josh and shook her head. “I ain’t even gonna ask why you got rid of the dresser.” 

“Don’t even think like that.” He said in a serious tone. “She was being nosey and went through my drawers.” Airielle hummed in response before just setting the candle on the nightstand. She took off her hoodie, and Josh bit his lip as her nipples hardened in the red spaghetti-strapped top she was wearing. He then groaned when she pulled down her sweatpants, leaving her in the red lace boyshorts she was wearing. 

Josh couldn’t tear his eyes away from Airielle as she crawled on the bed before straddling him. She bit her lip before leaning down and kissing his lips passionately. Josh moaned into her mouth, his hand coming up to palm her ass. She pecked his lips two more times before removing herself from him entirely and cuddling into his side. 

“Rih?”  He questioned, turning his head to the side. Airielle giggled as she saw how turned on he was. Good, she thought, payback from earlier, 

“I thought you wanted to start all over,” she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes at him. 

“Mann..” Josh trailed off, sucking his teeth. “You really are hell.” He stated, bringing her body closer to his and pulling the comforter around him. 

“I know,” she mumbled, her eyes getting heavy with sleep. “I love you,” she added, closing her eyes.

“I love you too.” 

something sweet, before all hell breaks loose... did I say that? Whoops 😅

How we feeling about this chapter? Josh got rid of all that Yara touched.. including the dresser cause she nosey as hell lmao.

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[fangisms]

due november

A/N: was feeling particularly soft and magical this september afternoon, so im here to feed the beasts (with love) gif creds: @osvaldrps-archived

Pairings: Husband!Neville Longbottom x Pregnant!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your family of nearly three share a moment in the living room. 0.8k words

Warnings: set when both are ~20s-30s, pregnancy, established relationship, dorky dad neville, fluff, smutty intentions but only jokes

It's all got Neville worried down to the bone. The weight of being a good husband was heavy enough without the impending uncertainty of fatherhood. Which is not to say he isn't a good husband or that he wouldn't be a good father, but the stress of it can be crippling for the nervous wreck that he is.

Though, his shakiness is ever soothed by the way you hold the back of his head when you kiss him, the way you clean his glasses of dirt smudges, the way you catch his eye in your sweetly flowing skirts, dresses, and blouses. Daintily, he'd say, very prettily.

"They're like house pets at this point," you remark, tip-toeing over the vines weaving between the slats of your hardwood flooring. Throughout the kitchen, greenery creeps in through open windows, finding home in doorframes and across the ceiling. They can't help it. The September chill is getting to everybody.

"I just can't bring myself to trim them!" he chirps, catching your waist when you trip into his side, belly protruding against your floral house dress. "On second thought—"

"No, no, Nev! I like it. I like them. It's free interior design."

"Damn weeds. It's a free death sentence."

"You're just a pessimist!" you tease.

As open to ogling as you always seem to be, he hates that you can still make him blush after all these years. Even with duckfoot ivy weaving its way through your shared home and baby names listed on the chalkboard by the door, he's still blushing when you so much as look at him.

And right now, you're looking at your horticulturist's dirt-smudged under shirt exposed beneath his striped button down. Which also happens to be smudged with dirt.

He clears his throat.

"Nervous, my dear?" you tease when he diverts his gaze from down your neckline.

"Hmm? Oh, no, not at all"—his voice falters, and he tries to focus back on the delicate clay pot in his hands—"Craving anything for lunch?"

"Nothing much," you sigh, "maybe a bite of my husband."

He blinks, eyes wide open but blank like the dial tone is just ringing through his skull. He places the empty pot gently in the sink basin, moving both damp hands to your waist with that doe-eyed look.

"You've already got one in there, lovebug, we can't go around trying for another now, can we," he says. You toss your head back with laughter, and he watches you in annoyed amazement. Since when were you impervious to his awkward charm. "Come on, lunch. Anything you want."

He cups his hands together around your lower back, letting out a soft breath when you push his hair out of his face and thumb the dirt from his brow.

"Let's see... couple of ice lollies? Sounds good, dunnit?"

"Well-rounded, definitely," he says, patting your bum with a chuckle. "I'll make some sandwiches. And I've got time for a walk after."

"You'll spoil me rotten, Mr Longbottom!"

"Watch it, or you're getting triplets."

"Oh, you're nasty, Mr Longbottom," you tease, holding his chin and leaning in for a kiss. He spins you round and pats you towards the living area.

You hurdle a couple of roots and make it halfway to the hand-me-down chaise lounge in the corner when you feel a sharp twitch.

"Christ," you yelp, grabbing the arm of the chair with a hiss, slightly bent at the waist and taking a deep breath.

"Baby? What's going on?"

"She's kicking again!" Your palm is splayed across your rounded belly as you practice deep, circular breathing. There's a harsh clammer from the kitchen. Then silence.

Then he appears in the opening, hair flopping down over his forehead, brows furrowed, towel flung over his shoulder, so still you'd think he saw his old, cranky professor.

"...She?" he huffs, pushing a hand through his hair.

"Oh. Oh, Nev, I—" You cup your palm over your mouth with a sharp breath in. "You wanted it to be a surprise. I'm so sorry."

But a smile makes its way across his lips, pulling and tugging at the soft pink as he shuffles closer. Two strong hands meet yours on the curve of your belly, welcoming another jolt. One reaches for the back of your neck, and he leans in to kiss your worried forehead.

"We're having a baby girl?"

You nod, tears welling in your eyes when he tilts your chin up to peck your wobbly bottom lip. You feel the stubbly skin of his cheek with the pad of your thumb and let him kiss you once more.

"I was so restless, I had to know," you huff, "I'm such a spoilsport! You were so excited, Nev!"

"I know. And you're not a spoilsport. I'm still excited, know why?"

"Why?" you say, wiping your nose and pouting at him. He grins.

"Because she's ours."

masterlist

[bugrry]

you're the thing that's crystal clear

hbo!joel miller x fem!reader

hello lovebugs!!

a/n: after thirteen months of no new writing, the inspiration bug finally bit me again! please please please let me know what you think! hopefully i'll have more works coming out in the next few months, fingers crossed! :EDIT: at first i'd had it written that it was a gn reader, forgetting that i'd used she/her pronouns for the reader. so sorry!

in this fic there are spoilers for episode six of the last of us AND i have not played the game, so if there are any inaccuracies, sorry!

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, reader and joel reuniting (let me know if i missed/forgot about anything!)

word count: 3,105

part two

Joel and Ellie had been at the commune for three whole hours before Joel can bring himself to ask about you. 

“Where is she?” Joel finally asks as the four of them sit together and enjoy their meal. Tommy sighs, as though he’d been waiting for Joel to ask the question. He probably had been. 

“I don’t know, Joel,” Tommy grunted, piercing the last morsel on his plate with his fork. 

“You said she came here with you,” Joel grumbles, his voice just above a whisper. 

“I also said she didn’t want to talk to you,” Tommy responds, swallowing and standing. He grabs his and Maria’s plate once she indicates that she’s done eating. Tommy moves to go to the kitchen, and Joel is following close behind him.

“So she’s here.” He tries to hide the desperation in his voice, but he doesn’t think he was all that convincing. He also doesn’t think he really cares. 

Tommy turns to him, almost snatching Joel’s plate out of his hands. “I’ll tell her you’re here. Let her decide what to do about it. Don’t you dare go lookin’ for her.” 

Joel sighs as he watches Tommy walk away from him, and he decides that he’s going to explore the rest of the commune. He eventually finds himself alone, sitting at a bar in an empty restaurant, thinking about the last time he saw you.

Three Years Ago

“Joel please!” You begged from where you stood with your half-packed backpack.

“No. I’m not joinin’ those Firefly fucks.” He stood tall and intimidating in front of you, almost like he was going to physically stop you from leaving. 

“Even if I have to go?” You said sharply, turning to grab another essential from your small cabinet. 

“You don’t have to go.” Joel almost scoffed. 

“I’ll die if I stay here.” 

“I’ll protect you!” Joel’s hands flew out from where they’d been at his sides. You flinched at the movement and the sudden change in his tone. 

“You can’t. Not from this.” You mumbled, just barely loud enough for him to hear. 

“From what?!” He continued to speak harshly, and you had to push through the instinct to just shut down. 

You dropped what you’d been holding, pressing the palms of your hands into the edge of the counter.  

“From myself!” You took a deep breath and finally turned to face him. “I am rotting here, Joel. I need to get out. For good.”

You had tried so hard to find a purpose here, with him, but every passing day only convinced you further that staying in Boston would kill you. One way or another, you knew that staying here would lead to you being just another one of the bodies that Joel had to toss in the pit. You shuddered at the thought. 

“You’ll rot there too! You can’t pick and choose your life anymore, Y/N! It’s like this everywhere!”

You shook your head, feeling heat rush into your face. “It doesn’t have to be! What if there’s something else out there? Something better?”

“You want to risk your life to find out?”

“Yes, Joel! I have to!” You heard your voice crack, and it was evident that the desperation in your body language had finally seeped its way into your words. 

“Fine!” He barked, turning towards his liquor cabinet as you finished shoving your things into your bag.

“Fine!” You pushed the whimper out of your voice as you zipped your bag shut and made your way out of your shared apartment. 

Once you’d slammed the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against the weakened wood. You shut your eyes as tight as you could, trying to will the tears away as you left down the stairs to where Tommy was waiting for you outside. 

Present Day, 2023

“Joel?” A soft voice comes from behind where Joel had parked himself at the bar. Joel’s head snaps up at your near-silent entrance. “Is that you?”

“...Y/N?” He curses himself for letting someone sneak up on him yet again. But once he sees your face, sees that you’re okay and alive he feels himself deflate. He hadn’t heard from you since you left, only getting bits and pieces from his brother, though Tommy had refused to give Joel much more than that. Joel was sure that had been at your request. After a while, Joel had stopped hearing from Tommy altogether, and thus lost access to whatever minuscule amounts of information he’d been getting about you. 

“They said that Tommy’s brother had come through. Guess they weren’t lyin’.”

“Guess they weren’t.” He mumbles, turning back to where he’d been picking at the chipping wood of the bar.

“You’re really gonna leave her?” You say softly, coming around to the other side of the bar. You pull two glasses from under the counter and turn to grab a bottle of whiskey off the shelf behind you. 

“Shit. How fast does word spread around here?” Joel says, watching your every move, trying to memorize the way you fit into this place so naturally, trying to convince himself that you’re happier here. Without him. 

“Fast enough.” You sigh, placing a half-full glass in front of him. “Dammit.” He doesn’t grab the glass right away, staring at the sloshing liquid until it stills. 

“You can’t leave her.” You say, resting your now empty hand against your hip. 

“Like you left me?”

You sigh, moving to pull a stool from under the counter. You can’t bring yourself to sit directly next to him, not yet. You needed the foot of space that the bar provided to keep you from completely drowning yourself in his presence. “I didn’t have a choice, you know that. You meant the world to me. You still do."

“Do I?” “Joel.” You hesitate. “Do I?” He barks, and there’s a harshness to his words that hadn’t been there when he’d first asked the question. You appear to flinch, but he chooses not to comment on your obvious apprehension. You take a minute to compose yourself before beginning to speak.

“Of course you do. There hasn’t been anyone since you. I don’t know if there ever will be.” You look down at the bar in front of you, daring only once to sneak a peek at Joel’s hands that had finally clasped around the glass. “You don’t have to lie for me. I’m a big boy.” He takes a swig of his drink, grimacing at the pleasant burn it left as it traveled down his throat. “I’m not lyin’. You were it for me.” You continue to avoid his eyes as you busied yourself with wiping down the counter.

Joel grumbled, wanting to drop his head onto the old wood in front of him. “You’re too young for me to have been it for you.” “Maybe so, but I loved you.” “Loved?” “What does it matter to you?” You snap, finally looking up at him and meeting his eyes. It was then that you noticed just how tired he was. Sure, he’d been grizzled and tired when you’d last seen him, but it seemed that the last three years had aged him faster than the previous seventeen had. 

“Never mind.” He says, breaking eye contact and looking back down at where his fingers traced the carvings in the glass. 

You soften, realizing just how much you’d truly missed him, how much you still miss him. You miss the way he’d hold you after a supply run went wrong – or right, for that matter. Joel had loved holding you whenever he got the chance. You miss the way he’d laugh at one of your shitty jokes, playfully pushing you away from him as you tried to get him to admit he’d found it funny. You blush when the thought pops into your head, but you also miss the way he’d put his whole body into kissing you, always made you lose yourself in the feel of his lips, his hands, and his thighs pressed against your body. You didn’t want to dig yourself any deeper of a hole, so you decide to bring the topic back to something you could think about without wanting to scream. 

“Please don’t leave her, Joel.”

Joel groans, looking back up at you and frowning, “We’re back on this?”

“It’s important. I can tell how much she means to you.” “It’s none of your business,” he says, taking a final swig of his drink. 

“Isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, looking down at the empty glass in front of him, “Nope.”

“I suppose it’s not,” you relent, moving to pour him another few ounces. He lets you.

“I’m glad we finally agree on something.”

You nod, looking down at the bottle in your hands. You place the bottle back on the shelf, turning back to take a drink out of your own glass. You decide to push it further. 

“Ellie’s not going to let you leave her.”

Joel sighs as if he’s annoyed that the conversation has continued, but he doesn’t leave. For that, you are thankful.

“What do you know about her?” He demands quietly, still refusing to look back up at you.

“I know enough.”

“I’m not gonna leave her,” he concedes, “I’m gonna give her a choice. Let her stay here or come with me.”

“She’s gonna choose you.”

“How do you know? You didn’t.” 

“That was different.” “Was it?” He grunts. 

“Yes. Because I regret it.” At this, his eyes snap up to meet yours. You’re looking at him sadly, as if it was obvious, as if he should have known that you regretted leaving him. Maybe he should have. He doesn’t say anything for a long while, just staring at you and watching the tears pool in your eyes.

“Oh,” is all he comes up with, and you frown. 

“Is that what you wanted to hear? That I regret leaving you? That I’ve been miserable this whole time without you?”

“No, of course not,” he says sincerely. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes and taking another drink from your glass, “Yeah right.”

“You think I wanted you to be miserable?” Joel says, finally standing from his seat at the bar, “I’ve thought about you every day since you left. I didn’t want to let you leave, but I also knew I had no power to stop you. I knew you were miserable in Boston. I knew I couldn’t convince you to stay.” “Even with how miserable leaving you made me feel, I think it was the right choice.” Joel frowns again, and the wrinkles around his eyes become only more prominent. You yearn to press the obvious hurt out of his face. You don’t let him speak, holding up your hand as you continue talking.

“I think I had to leave you. I don’t think I realized how important you were to me until I didn’t have you anymore.” At your words, Joel's frown only hardens. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t you tell me what I mean, Joel Miller,” you snap, your back straightening from where you’d been leaning against the shelf. 

“If I was so important to you, why didn’t you come back?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me back.” 

Joel’s face softens. He looks at you like you’ve just told him the most heartbreaking news he’d ever heard. “What?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it, “You thought…” he trails off, not allowing himself to finish the thought. 

“I thought you hated me.” You blurt. You curse yourself, you’d meant to say it softer than that, to maybe sugarcoat it a little bit. 

“You thought I hated you?” You don’t answer him this time, merely shrugging and looking down and tracing the grain pattern of the bar. “I could never hate you.”

He says it so harshly you feel as though you’re being scolded, and it only makes you shrink further in on yourself. He notices your shift and softens. He comes around your side of the bar, needing to be close to you, to feel your warmth again. You allow him to approach you, and when you don’t shy away from him, he feels a part of him that has been asleep for three years reawaken. He is filled with a sort of warmth that he never thought he’d feel again as he reaches up to cup your face, speaking softly, “Sweetheart, I could never hate you. Never in a million years could I hate you.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek, and he may be imagining it, but he thinks he feels you press your face into his hand. You close your eyes, but he has more to say.

“Y/N, listen to me. We’ve been through too much for me to ever hate you. I’ve seen you at your absolute worst and I still wanted you so bad it hurt.”

You pull away from his touch, and he feels cold again.

“That was before I left,” You say, almost as if you’re ashamed of yourself.

“That’s true. Even after that, though. I never hated you. Not for a second.” “Don’t lie to me Joel,” you almost whimper, and you shut your eyes in embarrassment at letting your voice crack.

“I’m not lying to you. Sure, I was pissed. Heartbroken, even. I thought you and Tommy were idiots for leaving, but there’s no way in hell I ever hated you for it.”

You give a non-commital shrug, still avoiding eye contact with him, “sure,” you eventually mumble.

“I’m telling you the truth. I have to reason to lie to you.”

“To spare my feelings, maybe.” You say softly, now fidgeting with your fingers.

“When have I ever done that?”

This makes you chuckle quietly, and he’s filled with a sort of pride that warms him from the inside out. There’s my girl, he finds himself thinking. Your laugh and your smile fades, and with it, that fuzzy feeling in Joel’s chest. 

“You should hate me.” You finally say. 

“I know,” he says, reaching up to touch you again. This time, he reaches for your hair, pushing a lock of it from your face, “But I can’t bring myself to.”

It's quiet for a few moments before you speak again, “I thought I hated you.” Joel’s hand drops from your face.

“What?” He tries to keep the fear out of his voice, and from your lack of reaction, he hopes that he’s succeeded. 

“I thought I hated you because you let me leave so easily. I thought you’d just decided you didn’t need me anymore. That I wasn’t worth fighting for. That was stupid, I realize that now. But I wrote some pretty bitter things about you in my journal.”

Joel’s hand moves back up to your face, this time to brush away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks, “I could never not need you.”

You shake your head, moving out of his grip again. “You did just fine for more than a decade without me.”

“Maybe I just didn’t realize how alone I was.”

This makes you laugh again, but not in a way that fills Joel with warmth. It’s bitter, doubtful, and angry.

“I could show you,” he starts again, moving back into your personal space, “if you’d let me. I could show you how much you meant to me. How much you still mean to me.”

“I don’t…” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“If you’d let me, I’d spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me.”

“Joel…” you start again, but this time you let yourself trail off, not knowing what you were going to say, just knowing that you should probably say something.

“Please sugar,” he starts again, placing his hands softly on your shoulders. You don’t move any closer, but you also don’t move away, so Joel keeps going, “You said it yourself. There’s still a small part of you that loves me, even if you probably shouldn’t.”

You mumble something to yourself, something Joel couldn’t make out. He reaches up to move your face towards him, to force you to look at him. You obey his silent request, looking up and into his eyes that were somehow still so soft, even after all these years. 

“It’s not a small part of me, Joel,” you say again, speaking louder this time, “It was never a small fucking part. My whole being was devoted to you. It tore me apart to leave you. I was useless on the road. Once we were with the Fireflies, I threw myself into my work and my chores so that I didn’t have to think about the huge Joel-shaped piece that was missing from my heart. I hate myself for leaving, and I hate myself even more for not going back to Boston and fighting for you. I was a coward. I still am.”

By the time you’re finished talking, tears are streaming down your face. Joel is looking at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen, and it makes you want to curl into a ball and never speak to anyone again. He lets you cry for a moment before he responds.

“If you’re a coward, then I’m a coward too. I could have just as easily come looking for you.” “I never expected you to.” You squeak out, in between your sobs “And I never expected you to come back. That doesn’t mean I got over you leaving. I didn’t think I’d ever get over it. And I hadn’t, not until I saw you here.”

Once he finishes speaking, he finally pulls you into his chest and just lets you sob into him. He doesn’t know how long the two of you stand there, in that empty bar, with his arms wrapped around you, but what he does know is that he never wants to let you go. Eventually, your sobs fade to quiet sniffles and you shift in order to wrap your arms around his body. Even though the two of you are pressed against each other, the way you grab at him makes it seem as though you need him even closer. You mumble something into his chest that he can’t quite make out, so he pulls you away from him. You whine at the loss of his touch, but you quiet once you see how he looks at you.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“I said I love you.” You sniffle, reaching up and wiping a tear from his face.

“I love you too, Y/N. God, do I love you.”

-

part two

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 14: Love is being late to work because you can’t ever say goodbye in a reasonable amount of time @sharpbutsoft

It's a wonder Steve ever gets to work at all once he starts dating Eddie.

It starts in the morning, Eddie sleeps on the side closer to the door, prone to waking up in the middle of the night and wandering around til he's tired again. This of course puts him closer to the alarm clock and some days he's pretty fast at turning it off. Luckily, it wakes Steve up today.

Then Steve must escape what he fondly refers to as Eddie the Octopus, who tangles his limbs up with Steve's and pulls him close trying to keep him in the warmth of their bed. Thankfully, the lovebug beast can be slain with the promise of coffee and breakfast.

Breakfast is its own ordeal as Eddie's octopus tendencies don't stop in the kitchen, winding his arms around Steve as they watch the sizzling pan and sip their coffee. He does allow Steve freedom on their way to the table, but will loop their legs once they're sat down.

Even getting dressed takes twice as long, wolf whistles and innuendos trying to get Steve to stay, he wishes he could, morning sex is his favourite. Brushing their teeth becomes a competition of who can pull the dumbest face and make the other choke on spit.

Not even the front door is safe, minty kisses passed between them, today they're not even separating, Steve is dropping him at work.

The clock on his dashboard tells him he's already late, but in the carpark of the record store he can't help but want a few more moments with his lover, Robin's already clocked him in, so what's the harm in one more kiss.

Tomorrow it'll happen all again but he'd rather waste the morning with Eddie than do anything else.

[sordidmusings]

Switching Up Roles - Part 2/2 (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: gif relevant cuz this mf gets his hand privileges revoked 💀 I have finally finished it QuQ getting Buggy to admit his sub desires to you for anon is here! I really hope it is what you wanted and that you enjoy 🤍 there's lots of filth but there's also a lot of them being sweet dorks together and painfully in love because I couldn't help myself whoops

Word Count: ~8.5k

Warnings: feminine leaning afab!reader (no pronouns), NSFW my dude, very sub side of switch!Buggy, face sitting, oral (both receiving), light restraining, praise, degradation, edging, p in v, creampie, brat taming im p sure (Buggy doesn't mean to be a brat, petulance is just in his soul), takes a little to get to the sex but then it just keeps happening lol

Enjoy turning the clown into even more of a hot mess 🤡

Part 1

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Buggy is, for once, at the door to your shared room, kicking off his shoes for the night, right when the last colors of sunset begin to fade and no later. His hat is pulled off and thrown with little care for where it lands and his gloves are yanked off and flung away. He stomps over to where you sit on the bed with heavy feet, plops you fully onto the bed with a complaining grunt, and flops his full weight on top of you with spread limbs. You would be chastising him right now, but all the air left your lungs when he belly-flopped you into the mattress. A few forceful breaths re-inflate your lungs, but by the time you have your words prepared, Buggy is finished with his prolonged and dramatic sigh, and he greets you with a “heya, sweetcheeks” that barely makes it out of the comforter engulfing his face.

Gods, you love this silly little man.

“Hello, lovebug,” you reply with a fond giggle. “I’d ask how you’re doing but the dramatic entrance told me everything.”

Another complaining grunt is his response.

“Sounds about right. How about this?” You shimmy yourself a touch so you can fully move your arms and slither them under his coat. Your fingers touch his sides before sweeping in and trailing next to his spine all the way up his back. You dig them in just enough to create resistance then you drag them all the way back down to the small of his back. You feel his shiver in your own body and bask in his happy sigh. “How about you let me take care of you tonight? You really need to spend some time relaxing before your body falls to pieces that won’t listen to you anymore. I don’t wanna have to put you together like a figurine again; you don’t come with assembly instructions.”

Something that sounds like “needing a waxing” vibrates into the mattress.

“You’re gonna have to repeat that one, Bubs.”

With a huff to let you know what an absurd effort you’re making him go through, Buggy turns his head to lay with his mouth next to your ear. “I said ‘sleep is relaxing’, dumbass.”

You easily ignore his toothless insult. You begin massaging the muscles under your hands on his lower back to ease him up some more. “Well, yeah, and that’s why I want to help you sleep like the dead.”

Ever a man with his mind frolicking in the gutter, Buggy gets some new found pep. He breaks out the rough whisper he knows you love to say, “And how do you plan on doing that, sweet treat?”

You turn to him and inch in close enough to speak against his lips, “Why waste time telling you when I can show you?”

Buggy’s pressing his lips to yours before you finish the final word. The kiss is full of ease with its slow rhythm and syrupy movements. You pull back to tease his lips with a brush of your own and take a moment to savor breathing the same air. Buggy won’t let you stop for long; his impatience for your touch always becomes all consuming after he gets that first taste. He’s still gaining more energy back and using it to put more strength into his movements. He props himself up on one elbow and his opposite hand slides over to palm the base of your skull. His thumb brushes the sensitive skin behind one ear and his fingers easily reach to the other, leaving you completely at his control. He gently sucks your bottom lip before giving it a hungry nip, and it comes back to you that you’re supposed to be leading this night somewhere.

When you go to pull away, Buggy’s hand keeps you exactly where he wants you. He responds to your attempted escape by teasing his tongue between your lips. This man clearly knows how weak you are for him, because you couldn’t keep yourself from deepening the kiss if you tried. Why would you ever deny yourself these moments where you could taste each other’s want on the smooth slide of tingling tongues? Wait. No. Focus.

“C’mon, gorgeous,” he breathes out in response to another attempt to pull back, this one weaker. “Don’t you wanna be my good little slut?” You let out a high-pitched moan into his mouth at that, internally cursing him for being so hot. “I need my cock-hungry pretty baby to make me feel good. Didn’t you want to be my cocksleeve? My little toy to fuck whenever and however I want?”

Yes, yes you did. You loathe your past self for giving him that ammunition to use against you right now. Without meaning to, you spread your legs fully, making space for his hips to shimmy flush to your center. He rewards you with firm grinds of the thick bulge straining against his pants. His movements are unhurried, letting you focus on every moment and the way his cock drags on your heat, reminding you of every time it had you drunk on pleasure before. The promise it gives you is mouthwatering. You realize that you may have miscalculated. You had thought his brain would be too fried from the week to use your soft spots against you, but here he is, getting you wet and pliant with one deep kiss and some choice words. What a bastard.

You try pulling away again and are met with the same result. Fine then.

Buggy squawks and flinches back when you pinch his side. He splits at the waist to keep his lower half on you and floats his upper body out of your attack range. The look he gives you is absolutely seething, but you would not be moved. You remain unimpressed.

“I did pull back multiple times. What if I had to sneeze and you made me headbutt you?” you reason, knowing it was too obvious that you were enjoying yourself to pretend otherwise. The way your legs are still happily hooked around his hips would be all the argument he needs against you.

“You always do those little prep inhales and reel back like you’re getting an exorcism. Would’ve given me plenty of time to get out of the line of fire,” Buggy grouses, crossing his arms to give you his most petulant pout.

You make an exaggerated gasp and distort your voice to sound tearful when you say, “I thought you loved me for my dramatic sneezes! Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

“Every. single. day,” he deadpans.

“And here I was,” you begin, shoving his legs off and standing from the bed, “Ready to play doting housewife for you and undress you with kisses and massages and love!” You turn your back to him to really sell the soap opera scene. Using the word “love” may have been a little bit underhanded; you both have been skittering around saying your first “I love you”s, only daring to use the weighted word indirectly. Even so, it was always easy to see how hearing the word from your lips would make him forget everything else and seek another hit of it from you.

“Aw come on, baby,” he draws out, already switching from pouting brat to placating lover. “We can still do that right?”

There is a lot of frantic rustling behind you. You peek at him over your shoulder, only allowing yourself to turn enough to see him in the corner of your eye. He is popped back together and is sitting up on his knees. He had skooched himself to the edge of the bed right behind you, where he is now giving you his best puppy dog face. You’re able to hold out just long enough for him to start wondering if your anger was all play before you spin around and chirp, “Only if you make a deal with me!”

Buggy flings himself back out on the bed and groans, “Fiiiiiiiiine.”

“It’s one you’ll like, I promise,” you soothe. You ease Buggy to sit up at the edge of the bed, laughing at the way he’d sway too far into whichever direction you pulled him, staying just one step removed from going dead weight. Once he’s settled into his spot, you take a moment to examine him. It doesn’t go unnoticed to you that his back is hunched forward under the weight of his exhaustion. Though his eyes are playful, they also hold dark bags, which peek out around his makeup. Your heart aches for him. Even when he is overworked and needing sleep, he’s taking the time to goof around with you and listen to your requests. You’d make sure he had the best sleep of his life tonight. You’d get him all clean and cozy and ready for bed and then you’d make him cum so hard that his brain blue screens. Truly a proper recipe for a good night’s rest.

“How’d you take off your gloves at the door but not your coat?” you ask, pushing said coat off his strong shoulders. He helps you by pulling out his arms. While your eyes admire any new skin exposed to you, Buggy keeps his eyes on your face.

“Can’t feel you through the gloves,” he explains. Oh, wow, that’s actually really sweet- “You ever try to enjoy tits and ass through fabric? Doesn’t work as well.”

You puff out an exasperated laugh. Yep, there’s your Buggy.

Before you move on to take off his scarf, you brush your fingertips along his neck and jaw to enjoy the warmth of his skin and the scratch of his stubble. Once the cloth is gone, you begin using your lips instead. He reaches out to hold your hips in a practiced welcome when you settle into his lap. Anywhere your kissing moves, Buggy opens himself up to your touch. You nose his jaw up for his head to fall back and kiss your way along his pulse. Your hand comes up to support the other side of his neck, your thumb admiring the shape of his adams apple. Your other hand hooks into his shirt’s collar and pulls it aside for more access. By the time you follow his collarbone to his shoulder, your kisses are open-mouthed, sucking and licking at his skin. When you move back over to the base of his neck, you feel his throat bob from a heavy swallow then vibrate under your thumb with his pleased hum.

Eager kisses lead you up to his ear, which you greet with a nip. Pulling back, you blow cool air on him to light up the damp trail you left behind. While your lips explore him, his hands explore you. They had started at your hips and are now massaging indulgently at your chest. Like everything else, the motion is not rushed, which perfectly compliments the teasing way he thumbs your nipples through your shirt.

After a sweet kiss to his temple, you undo his bandana, exposing his beautiful blue hair. You guide his head down to rest against your sternum so you can more easily take out the pins and ties keeping his hair in place. Buggy hums in pleasure from the relief in his scalp once his waves of long hair all fall free. You help soothe it further by massaging your fingers from the nape of his neck, around to temples, up to crown, and back down again. You always love when you can play with his hair; it’s become covetously soft in your care and you’ve become addicted to the faint smell of shampoo topped with ocean spray that came from it. 

Buggy’s hands move from your chest so he can wrap you in a loose hug. He mindlessly massages your lower back and ass while you tend to him. The break from your kissing lets him regain enough thought to ask, “You gonna let me know about the terms I’ve agreed to or am I supposed to start guessing?”

You give him a sweet giggle and kiss the top of his head. While moving on to unclasp his many belts, you reply, “If you insist then I guess I’ll tell you.” Even his shirt has belts, what is this? Yeah, they look nice, but each one is one more step between you and getting him naked. “What you’re gonna do-” you don’t miss his shiver at the sternness in your tone “-is lay there and enjoy what I give you.” You soften up just a touch. “I’m here to make you feel better. I need you to trust that.”

“Of course I do,” he says, almost offended. He earns a kiss with the ease and earnestness of his response.

Finally, all the belts are undone and his shirt is opened. Buggy pops his arms off so you can easily push it off of him without the rest of his body moving an inch. He reassembles while your hands work on touching every new stretch of skin. You’d never tire of feeling his abs twitch under your touch or tracing the contours of his body. You get bolder, scratching pink lines through the light texture of his blue chest hair. It matches his stubble in a handsome blue, slightly darker than the hair on his head.

With a grip on his hair, you ease Buggy’s head off of your chest. He moans at the pull of it on his tender scalp and hopes you think it's from discomfort. The way you turn your hand so it pulls firmer, earning more sounds, lets him know he’s not fooling you. He finds that he doesn’t care when he sees the appraising look you’re giving him. 

Now that he’s sat up, you get back to work on marking him up. There’s a gentle, tingling scratch of hair against the skin of your face while you work him over. Buggy is slowly and surely falling apart between your dominating hand and worshiping lips. Where before he felt the need to muster the energy to meet you for pleasure, he is now surrendering to let you control when and how he feels it. He lets himself lean into your grip and keeps himself relaxed, only moving his hips in mindless grinds. Having this man offer you free access to himself is winding you up quickly. You needed to get this moving along. You could take all the time you wanted soon. After smearing a few more kisses across his chest, you get up to work on getting him out of his pants.

“Come on, Bugs, let’s get you out of the rest of those clothes,” you coo, moving back to stand in front of him. 

“You want me naked~” Buggy taunts in a singsong voice like a schoolyard bully, giving you the cheekiest grin. He holds out his arms (making grabby hands of course) for you to pull him up. With a sturdy heave, you get the sleepy clown back on his feet. 

“You’ve found me out,” you whisper in fake shame. “Whatever will I do?”

“Well, toots, you can buy my silence with kisses,” he offers.

After giving many quick kisses all over his face, many with exaggerated “mwah!”s to get more giggles out of him, you move on to his pants. Buggy stays quiet and pliant while you undid them and pull them down to his ankles, following them down to the floor. You are happy to see that familiar bulge more clearly while he’s just in his boxers. You kiss along his length through them, making it twitch eagerly. His hand comes to rest on your head, letting you know how much he wants you to stay there. You look up at him, making eye contact, before pulling back and pulling his boxers down to join his pants. You think it’s cute the way his breath still catches from seeing you like this. It’s also cute the way his hands move to your shoulders to help him balance while you take off his pants and boxers then pull each sock off of his feet.

Buggy settles himself to recline on the pillows at the head of the bed, legs crossed at the ankles and hands behind his head. He eats up the way your eyes scrape over every inch of his spread out body. It isn’t lost on him the way your eyes always gravitate towards the prize laying heavy on his stomach, highlighted by a deep blue happy trail and trimmed curls. “Your turn, sweet cheeks,” he prompts.

“Not so fast,” you say, turning away from him and going to grab some items on the dresser. You turn back holding out a cloth and bowl of water to answer Buggy’s raised brow. He is not happy with your answer.

“Come ooooon,” he complains. “Aren’t you used to the makeup by now?”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious,” you respond, gesturing to the marks he’s left on your face and chest. “But our skin will be happier without it and you’ll feel better sleeping clean and without a whole stage show’s paint on your pillow.”

“But I want you on me now,” he growls. Okay that greedy tone almost won you over, but you could use his weak spots too.

“I also..” you had wanted to only play shy but found that the feeling became genuine. “I also want to see you bare faced tonight.” Buggy narrows his eyes so you continue. “Don’t get me wrong, the makeup is sexy - like obviously, you’ve seen how I get - but you’re handsome without it too. And sometimes all I wanna see is you.”

He relents easily, trying to hide the blush that burns up his cheeks and down his neck. You reward him by making very quick progress of getting him fresh faced and cleaning the smears off of your own face and body, before moving onto your clothes. 

You’d like to say that you were sexy in the way that you stripped yourself, but the reality is that you were quick and unchoreographed in your rush to get back to Buggy. He’d never complain though; there’s already plenty of your mouth watering strip teases filed away in his mind. There was also a rush in knowing how quickly you want to touch him again. And in the way the rush has your tits and ass jiggling.

Buggy reaches out to welcome you back into his lap, but is blindsided when you move to grab and spread his ankles instead. The way you crawl in between his legs is slow and maddening. Where’s that impatience that had you tearing off your clothes? Buggy can’t lie, he does love the way you’re kissing up his legs and the way it lets him savor how your body moves and curves. His worn body and thumping heart are addicted to the way you’re touching him. The problem is that he’s having trouble thinking of anything beyond the way his cock throbs angrily at the lack of attention.

The whispers, nips, and kisses that you layer on his thighs stay just on the right side of ticklish. Buggy’s hands follow your movements, brushing into your hair and tugging gently whenever you find a particularly sensitive spot. You keep at it until his thighs are twitching and jumping to your touch and he’s lost control of the pace of his breath. It’s only then that you begin teasing his cock with soft lips and cold blown air. You mix in firm, sedate licks to keep hinting at the relief your mouth could bring.

Buggy detaches his hands and begins to trail them down your sides. He’s hoping that playing you with his fingers would urge you along. Beyond that, he needs to feel how slick and warm you are and get his mind ready for the feeling that would soon slide over his aching cock by sinking his fingers into your plush grip. You quickly stop his plot by plopping your hips flush to the bed so that he can get no further than groping your ass. 

“Ah ah ah, I didn’t say you could touch me yet,” you reprimand. Buggy whines back at you and you nip his upper inner thigh. “Hands,” you command, holding your own out. Even with his protests, he detaches his hands and floats them to your own. You link your fingers together with his then shove his hands down into the mattress, leaning your weight on them.

With him disarmed, you focus back to winding him up. Taking his head into your mouth, you begin swirling your tongue. Buggy manages to keep his hips from pushing more of him into you, but they shake with the effort. You turn your head to the side and begin massaging his head into the inside of your cheek, careful to keep your teeth off of him. He bites out curses and looks down at you to burn the image of your cheek bulging from his cock into his mind forever. He begins to let his hips lead the movements pressing out your cheek, so you pull him back out of your mouth.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Buggy pleads. He needs to keep feeling you or he’s sure he’ll go insane.

“I didn’t hear you say please,” you snark at him. He starts chanting the word for you in hopes to fix his mistake and earn your mouth back, but you’re already decided on the matter. Instead of sucking on him again, you simply nose around his hips and crotch to tease him, using what you could with your hands occupied restraining him. You found you enjoyed it; he smells strongly of clean skin and sex and the new method of touching him lets your brain notice new details to cherish. “It’s too late, silly clown,” you taunt.

When he can take no more, Buggy detaches an arm and bends it around the back of your neck. He pulls you into him by the crook of his elbow and growls out, “more”. You glare up at him before quickly taking him back into your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat, grinding his head there while sucking harshly and gripping his balls.

Buggy yelps out an apology, the sensation way too much to process so suddenly. His arm flies back to him and you ease your grip on him. You soothe him with a few gentle bobs of your head before popping off and leaving a kiss to the soft skin on the underside of his cock. That sharp hit to his nerves chased by the tender touch fogs up his mind.

“I’ll do what you want, please tell me what you want,” he begs.

“What I want-” you’re crawling your way back up his body, “-is for you to be honest with me. Tell me what you’ve been hiding this whole time.”

Buggy’s face scrunches in genuine confusion. “I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“You sure?” you press. You lean towards his lips, which gently part in anticipation of a kiss. The moment before your lips brush, when you feel his stuttered breath, you change course and ghost your lips across his jaw to his ear. “But it would make me so  happy if you just told me,” you whisper. “You usually make me feel so good.” You can feel him listening intently. “You don’t want to be good for me?” He stills completely. “Don’t you want to be my good little toy?” His whole body shivers beneath you. You kiss and suck your way down his neck and he leans his head away to give you as much access as possible. “Just say it baby and I’ll make you feel good.”

If you weren’t so busy buried in his neck, you would see the breathtaking mix of apprehension and need flaring in his bright eyes while he debates how to answer you.

“I want you to use me. I-” he trails off and looks away, losing his nerve. 

You begin gently petting his hair and placing kisses on the side of his face. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” He looks back at you and his shining eyes and furrowed brow plead for the promise that you’re telling the truth. You give him a firm kiss on the lips, which he eagerly returns with a small suckle to your bottom lip. You pull back to check in, looking into his eyes, before encouraging him again. “Keep going, lovely. I wanna hear it.”

Buggy tenses once more before he seems to let his resistance break and fall out of every muscle, leaving him limp and prone amongst the pillows and sheets. “I want to be your toy - I want you to take charge and do what you want to me. I want.. I want to follow your orders.”

The kiss you gift him is ravenous, and he fills with relief. “You’re so good to me, baby,” you praise, and that relief triples.

You reassuringly squeeze his captive hands and lead your way back down his body with your lips. The transition helps relax him and loosens his mind again. As you get back to your sweet torture, he keeps reaching downward not remembering that his hands aren't there then whining when he doesn’t reach your head. You switch his hands to being clamped between your knees so you can scratch your nails down his thighs, using just enough pressure to leave long pink trails. Taking it further, you move your mouth away from his dick to work across his v-line. Buggy gets more fussy at the lack of attention on his cock, squirming and whimpering below you.

Mouth still busy on his soft skin, you use one hand to palm over his balls to the underside of his dick and curl your hand closed around him, one finger at a time. You angle his cock upright, enjoying the feeling of his precum beginning to trail down across your fingers. Your mouth changed course back closer to him, emptying his mind of any thoughts but “yes, yes, yes-”. He blanks out completely when your blazing hot tongue drags across his balls during a squeeze and a pump of his dick. The relief is short lived when your grip loosens and stills and your mouth leaves him completely. His head snaps down to see why you stopped and he sees that you’re already giving him a malicious smirk. Your eyes stay on his when you pucker your lips to blow on his aching tip. His head snaps back sharply, the movement exaggerated by his hair.

“You’re going so sloooow,” Buggy complains, frustrated. “I thought you were gonna take care of me.” He sounds impressively sulky.

“If you’re not happy with my services,” you start in a measured tone, moving forward until you are nose to nose, “then you can take care of yourself.” His face pales. You look down at his dick in your hand thoughtfully before saying, “Better yet I can just steal your cock and run off to the showers to take care of myself.”

“No!” Buggy wants it to come out like an order but it is definitely an anxious plea.

“Oh, so you’re telling me I can’t?” He shrinks even more under your glare, making you feel powerful.

“Just stay in here, pleeeease, need to see you feel good,” Buggy begs, voice small. “Don’t even need to cum, just need you.” 

You aren’t supposed to give in unless on your own time, but knowing that he’s only thinking of your pleasure is making you weak.

“I thought you wanted to be my good little toy and good toys don’t whine and make demands. They are happy with what they’re given if their owners give them anything at all.” He whimpers. “Right now you’re more of a fucking brat.”

“Noooooo,” his broken complaint sounded delicious, but the look on his face was nearing too close to real distress. 

“No?” You mock. You look down at him with a condescending pout. Your eyes bore into his, needing to notice every little detail of his next reaction. “Oh, baby, if you’re not a brat then you’re just a pussy-hungry slut.”

Buggy shuts his eyes and moans loudly at your words. The sound of his own voice calling you a cock-hungry slut many times over echoes from his memories. He didn’t think having his own insults turned on him would feel so invigorating. It’s clear to you that that is much more what he wants to be for you. Your slut; not your brat. How sweet. When all his layers are peeled back he only wants to please.

“That’s okay you sick little thing. You just can’t help it, can you?” He shakes his head with those gorgeous, shining eyes pleading at you. “If you’re so hungry, I guess I gotta feed you so you can shut. up.”

Before his mind even realizes that you began moving, you flip around and sit directly on his face. Your strong thighs are clamping his arms down to his sides, leaving his hands to be snatched up in your own again. You’ve positioned yourself so his mouth is at your clit and his nose is teasing your entrance. He gives a thick inhale and presses his tongue out to lap at you with a satisfied moan.

“Much better,” you groan, completely self-satisfied.

You waste no time before you begin rocking your hips. The room fills with the sloppy sounds of him licking and sucking at you, overly enthusiastic about having your pussy in his face.

“Now stick out that tongue for me,” you order, giving him his only warning before you drop much of your weight down to get the best pressure of his tongue, nose, and chin against you. The sensation has you clenching against the surface of his nose, getting it wet. You switch between a few long grinds from cupid’s bow to chin and making sharp circles of your clit on his tongue.

Buggy barely gets any time to fully breathe and he loves it. His head has become a murky swirl of your addicting taste and smell and the lovely sounds of you moaning for him. It sends pleasure prickling through him, making him burn with need, but he’s sure he’d stay on this painful precipice forever if it meant you kept using him to feel good. Buggy’s moans are becoming slurred whines as he gets drunk off your pussy. He was trying so hard to be perfect for you. He would stiffen his tongue to grind back into you or curl the end up for you to use on your clit. He’s ignoring his nerves at having his nose be an active participant, because he feels the way you follow its pressure. His hands are clamped on yours, floating in front of you to give you better leverage to move. He’s done good to not pull either of them away and give his leaking cock the relief it desperately needs. He deserves a reward.

You bring his hands in to place them on your breasts, where they need no direction to start working you. The warm, grounding pressure of them kneading your breasts is broken up by little circles, pinches, and pulls to your nipples that send tingles to your spine and straight down to your clit. Once they’re settled on you, you curl forward to place your head back in front of his red, twitching dick. You put your elbows down by Buggy’s sides and take advantage of the fact that he’s too lost between your legs to notice where you’ve put your face.

Buggy arches and yelps when you blow strong, cold air on his head and tease your fingertips along his Apollo's belt. His utter excitement at your attention shows in his bucking hips and pressing face. His whole body is buzzing with the thought, “I did good!”

“Your mouth is fucking good, perfect for an eager slut” you praise. Buggy keens loudly into you, sending strong vibrations through your pussy. “I’ll have to steal your head as my seat more often.” You flick your tongue on his frenulum, earning a strong twitch. “I’ll hunt you down any time I need to cum and force you down under me,” you promise in a husky voice. 

Finally, you slide him into your mouth and moan at the familiar taste and weight and heat. He’s as sensitive as you’ve ever seen him, hips and cock jerking. You tease a hand down to cup his balls and feel them pull tight while his dick starts a familiar pulse, his voice going wild in your ears. Oh?

“Not so fast, stupid doll,” you warn, moving your hand to make a tight ring around the base of his cock. “Thought you could just cum without getting me off first?”

Buggy tries to get out apologies but his mouth is too busy buried in your pussy.

“I’m touching you as a reward. Don’t get greedy,” you scold. Then you’re putting him back in your mouth and he’s sobbing under your cunt. You couldn’t do anything more than light sucking and trailing your hands on him before you’d have to pull back and keep him from cumming. Each time, he’d try to apologize and each time he would look and sound more and more pathetic. By the time you feel the pressure of your own orgasm pulsing throughout your hips, he’s shaking like a leaf.

The crackling complaint Buggy let out when you pulled yourself off of his face was heartbroken. His fingers slipped and pulled as they made their way from your breasts down to your hips, where they weakly tried to pull you back down on him.

“Shhh sweet boy,” you soothed, placing your hands reassuringly over his, “I’m just gonna use your cock now, gotta give that pretty face a break.”

That quickly distracts him from the loss of your touch, if his urgent pleas and raised hips are anything to go by. You get down to his hips and lean forward slightly, gripping firmly onto each of his warm thighs for stability. You admire the lines that twist over them as his muscles move and react to you. Feeling a little bit sadistic, you grip them hard enough to bruise and hover just close enough to his cock so that he feels the heat of you there but only the ghost of your touch.

“Please touch me,” he begs. “So close, need to feel you-”

Buggy continues to babble and you continue to hover, delighting in the way his dick would sometimes jump up to tap your entrance, electrifying both of you. He squirms under the strength and weight of your grasp on his thighs, trying to chase you with his hips. Suddenly, he splits his legs off above your grip and is finally able to grind fully into you, gliding smoothly through the thick mix of slick, spit, and precum between you. An absurdly hot groan rushes out of him, starting as all exhale before morphing into a loud tone supported by a rumble in his chest. Your mind blanks with your own gasping moan before you recenter yourself and let your dead weight drop on him, shoving his hips deeply down into the mattress.

You had angled your hips to save your clit from all pressure but the tap of his balls when they bounced up from the impact, but Buggy was given no such mercy. The first hit between your weight and the bed presses his cock near painfully between the two of you, but he can’t deny the way the feeling sent prickles across his every nerve and the relief after it let up has him baring his teeth in his bid to not cum. Instead of nice grinds, you simply oscillate your weight around your hips to keep giving him too much stimulation but not the right kind.

“Am I not doing good enough for you?” you ask, voice carrying a warning that he better answer properly.

“N-no I love it, I was just-”

“Just what?” you interrupt, hand moving from bruising his thigh to cup his balls, adding to the threat in your tone.

“Couldn’t think! S-sorry, I’m sorry -hhhanh- ” Buggy keeps his apologies streaming because he can’t stop disobeying you - he can’t help making tight little movements of his hips against you to feel more of you.

“Having trouble being the one fucked stupid, little whore?” you goad. “Don’t like being so pussy-whipped you can’t think like a person anymore?”

“I love it,” he moans, fiercer than you expected. “Need it -hahh- need you, I’m yours, need to be yours.”

Fuck, you need to get him inside you; you were too close to cumming empty from hearing him talk like that. You keep the hand on his balls, starting to fondle them, and use the other to line him up with your entrance. You can already feel bliss curling in your toes as his fat head presses at you, but Buggy does the last thing you expect - he pulls back.

“No!” his voice breaks and you whip around, scared that something was wrong. He’s staring at you with wide, wet eyes. “Turn around, please, please, wanna see you.” You relaxed knowing he wasn’t hurt or scared or uncomfortable. He begins to have trouble looking at you, turning his head away shyly and letting some of his hair sweep over to shield his face. “Want you to look at me.”

You’re getting whiplash after being thrown from panic to overwhelmed with affection so quickly. You move slowly and smoothly when you turn yourself around and slink your body down over him. You rest on your elbows and slowly lower your hips back down to him, this time grinding his head against your clit generously. Buggy’s head spins between the fire you’re tending in him and the loving way you hold his face and brush away his hair.

“You sure you can take it, honey?” you ask softly. “You can’t even look at me right now.”

“I can!” he asserts, needing to prove himself to you. He turns his face to yours and flicks his gaze to your eyes and away a few times before he’s able to lock eyes with you. You pet his face and continue your smooth grinding, taking the time to look at him like he wants you to. Buggy’s face is the most beautiful shade of pathetic you’d ever seen; shimmering tear tracks highlight skin that is pink and flushed and damp with sweat. The color of his cheeks brings out the ruby color of his nose and you can’t resist brushing your own nose against it. He tries to flinch back but you follow him. When he turns his face away, you lure him back to you with sweet kisses. When he faces you again, you intensify the stable grinding you’ve kept up to nudge him a little closer to the edge once again.

“So pretty,” you whisper, reverent and honest. Your eyes are looking right into his, seeing him in a way that has him feeling worshiped. Loving fingers map out the structure of his cheekbones and jaw, moving on to chart his lips. They kiss at your fingertips sweetly. “I have the prettiest toy on the seas. Better than any other treasure.”

He perks up at that, giving you a moan and bucking hips.

“You wanna be my treasure?” you ask, getting an immediate, breathy “yes” from him.

“Well I love every bit of my treasures, from their gems to their dents,” you tell him. “After they’ve caught my eye with their beauty, the only thing they need to do to stay my treasures is let me care for every piece of them.” You brush your noses together again, staring at him pointedly. “Can you do that for me?”

There’s real conflict in Buggy’s eyes and you slow your hips to let him think. After a few long breaths, his whole body tenses and he nudges his nose back into yours in a hesitant eskimo kiss.

You turn your head and crash your lips on his in a consuming kiss full of teeth and tongue and praises. You’re bursting with your pride and love from his show of trust and he’s lost in the flood of your acceptance. Your hips are insistent again and, without breaking the kiss, you reach down and, at last, guide his cock into you.

Buggy cranes his head back again, so you switch to sucking and biting his neck. You can’t taste or feel enough of him, he’s not close enough. Even when he’s deep enough to lick at your cervix you need more of him. Even though he’s wedged you open enough for you to feel the pressure of it in your hips. Even though he’s crammed between your legs, ringing in your ears, sinking under your nails, sitting on your tongue, filling your breath - none of it is enough, so you keep taking more from him.

Though his hands have found their way onto your hips countless times, this grip felt foreign. Normally they’d hold firm and sure and guide you to move just how he needs you to. Right now, his grip is somehow tighter even though it’s all pawing and clawing. He has no control on how you fuck him, he’s just desperately trying to hold on for the ride and grasp more you - he’d do absolutely anything if it meant he’d get a single bit closer to you - to knowing nothing in this world other than every inch, every sound, every feeling that you have to offer. And then he’d beg for even more.

“Talk to me, treasure, tell me how you feel,” you urge. 

“I -mngh!- I-I feel-” Buggy gasps out. It’s clear he’s trying to listen to you but that pretty little head of his is scrambled. He keeps his foggy eyes on you in an attempt to focus, despite how much they want to roll back behind fluttering lids. He pants and moans a few more times before licking his lips and trying again. “-’s good, so good, s-so -uungh- s’gooooood -hahh-”

“That’s my good man, my perfect treasure, my sweet love,” you coo somewhere between a whisper and a moan. The way he’s stretching you open, rubbing at you with his hot cockhead is fraying your control. The freedom to call him “love” sends flutters through your chest. Buggy is just as desperate for the claim, each time he hears the word a keening whine answers it.

“Please, please, need you to cum,” he pants. “Can’t -hhah- c-can’t-”

“You can and you will.” The command leaves no room for argument.

You’re getting so close, feeling the promise of your release in the tingle of your fingers, the heat searing through your trembling thighs, and the tight gripping in your body all the way from your throat to your pussy. The feelings pulse stronger with each clap of your hips to Buggy, each time his thick cock shoves you open and lights up every buzzing nerve that it rubs through your walls.

“Fuck, love, you can cum.” He feels your lips form the words against his racing pulse. It’s hard to keep track of what you’re saying through the white out in your head and the heat licking through your entire body.  Your words rush out desperately, trying to get your scattered thoughts to him through a heavy tongue and a lack of air. “You’re so, so good, feel so good, gonna cum so fucking hard, love it so much, fuck, love how you make me feel so good-”

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you-” he gasps out on loop as his hips stutter and his cock jumps, filling you up. His pathetic thanks and the feeling of him releasing into you send you over the edge and everything burns so good. Your body involuntarily bucks and trembles on him for a few seconds where you have no say. You find yourself caving into him under the weight of your clenching muscles. Every clench of your cunt around him feels long and gripping and lets your swollen walls feel him with a little more detail. You make small, slow circles of your hips to wring out his climax, which seems never ending. Rush after rush of hot cum fills you until it’s spilling back into his lap, but his hands still encourage your movements and his body still shakes and trembles and he still babbles praises into your shoulder. Even when the aftershocks are settling to fewer and further between, he lets out a pathetic whine any time you stop moving in an attempt to give him some respite. After indulging him in another minute of overstimulation, you slowly lift off of him, receiving an upset groan. You hush him with trailing hands and sweet kisses, which he happily returns.

When his breathing is finally steady, you take a moment to check him over. His face is so relaxed he actually looks knocked out, but he does hum in response to your light squeeze on his shoulder. Buggy’s lashes have always been beautiful, but they look especially nice sending shadows across his cheek bones. His hair is a wild mess around him, and it feels silky between your fingers when you detangle it. His broad chest is still moving a bit fast with his breath, but each rise is a bit larger and longer. You admire the way his breathing moves the red spots and pink streaks decorating him, especially enjoying their contrast to his blue chest hair. His throat bobbing on a heavy swallow points your attention back upwards, and you admire the way his dark stubble makes his jaw even sharper. A little higher, you notice how red and swollen his lips are and how shining tear tracks dry across his face. You’d never seen him so fucked out. It looks gorgeous on him.

Since Buggy is calm and settling, it’s time to get up and clean you both up a bit. This time he communicates his displeasure at your absence with a petulant grunt. You turn back with a raised brow to sass him but break out in laughter instead when you see he couldn't even muster the energy to turn his head toward you. You don’t think this man has even opened his eyes since before he came.

“Don’t worry, love, I’m just getting a towel to clean up.”

A begrudging grunt.

Good enough.

After quickly taking care of yourself, you reappear with a warm, damp towel. The moment Buggy feels your weight back on the bed, he musters all of his remaining strength and pulls you on top of him. You giggle while he grumbles something into your shoulder.

“One more time, Bugs.”

He sighs like you are the most unreasonable person he has ever met, and you laugh at the deja vu you’re feeling. His lips move up to your ear and you hum happily at the tingles his breath leaves behind. “You took too long.”

You roll your eyes. “Sorry, your highness. Just trying to make sure we don’t wake up sticky in a puddle. Now come on, it’s your turn.”

On the third attempt to pull back, he finally lets you go (with yet another grumble) and you set to work on wiping him down. You begin with his face, enjoying the hum he lets out at the light warmth in the soft cloth, and move down to his neck. You spend a little bit of extra time on his shoulders and chest, massaging between swipes of the towel. He obnoxiously flings each arm at you when you are ready for them, just to hear you laugh another time. He enjoys the emptiness of his head while you move to his calves and work your way up. On his thighs and stomach, you sprinkle sweet kisses that leave his heart feeling gooey. He falls in love with you all over again when you blow a raspberry on his side to rouse him once he gets too close to dozing off.

He thinks he is all out of aftershocks until he is savoring the last few when you finish cleaning him up. You leave a loving kiss on the sensitive skin just inside his hip bone, before standing up, again to a groan. Buggy was always touchy after sex (and honestly touchy in general; you’re surprised he doesn’t demand you to hold a detached hand at all hours) but this is something else. It has you thinking of how much you crave his affirming touch whenever he is pushy or rough with you during sex. You’re both lucky that you find his pouting endlessly endearing. Grabbing the blankets that had fallen from the foot of the bed, you finally make your way back to him.

“Took you long enough.” Buggy’s words are bratty, but his tone is sweet and starstruck. He’s making sure to enjoy the last bit of seeing you clearly before you turn off the light.

“Fine - next time I’ll throw you a towel and go find a clean hammock for myself,” you tease. “That should be much quicker.” You plop onto the bed next to Buggy, jostling him, and you fluff the blankets out over the two of you.

“Noooooooooo,” he whines. “You’d leave me to fend for myself like that? I’d die.” Even with the dark, the way you two move to intertwine is coordinated and sure, played out many times before.

“I’m pretty sure there’s cryptid in your bloodline; you should do just fine with survival,” you laugh, snuggling deeper into him. As always, a deep inhale of him (saltwater, spices, leather, smoke, musk) has you immersed in your safe space. “Aren’t you the self-proclaimed untamable man, oh great Captain Buggy?”

“I’ve been domesticated-” you guffaw “-and it’s all your fault so you need to take some responsibility for your actions.”

You settle your laughter and look to meet his gaze. By now your eyes have adjusted just enough for you to see the moonlight from the porthole reflecting in his eyes. The unguarded affection you spot in them stalls your breath.

“Okay.” The word promises much more than he had asked. The meaning seems to reach him, because he holds you just that much closer and plants a lingering kiss to the top of your head. 

The brushing of the waves on the thick wooden sides of the ship guides your breath to deepen. The creaking of wooden boards and distant thunking of feet on the deck comfort you with their familiarity. Buggy is just barely hanging onto consciousness, trying to keep his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin. The last things your mind holds onto are the warmth seeping from Buggy’s body, the gentleness of those calloused fingertips, and the sleepy slur of his tender mumble.

“Goodnight, my brightest star.”

[hearts4golbach]

could u do johnnie guilbert smut? maybe with him being sub? like whimpering and shit 💀 idk how else to explain lmao 😭

Disco Stick. (Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.)

warning: consensual sex under the influence of alcohol.

im not sure if all of this is true so if its not pretend it is!

-

The club was definitely not my first choice of entertainment, but it'd do. Me and F/n pulled up to the most popular club near us, hoping we'd meet new guys to spice up our boring lives.

we got in surprisingly quick and went to find somewhere to sit and get drinks. we settled on the bar, sitting in the very far corner so we wouldnt bother anyone. I ordered my usual while f/n decided not to drink at all so she could drive us home. sadly, next time id be designated driver.

"its boring over here, once you get your drink lets go walk around or something." she offered, sipping her sprite.

i nodded in agreement. shorty after, i finally got my drink and we got up to walk around. i sipped on my drink as we began to walk into a crowd. i was worried id spill it. i pushed through a couple people carefully, making not to disturb anyone. 2 guys with black hair stood in front of me, i began to swerve around them before one turned around, bumping into me. luckily, my drink didnt get spilt.

"shit, i am so sorry." i heard an old, oddly familiar voice apologize.

"its all good," i looked up to see his face. "no fucking way, johnnie? do you remember me from chemistry?"

excitement twinkled in his eyes as he smiled. "yeah, you were the best lab partner i ever had. how could i forget?"

"i remember you too!" jake said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"sorry, jake! how could i forget you, you always made chemistry genuinely funny!"

"junior year chem was the shit with the 3 of us!" johnnie added as he giggled.

"we should catch up! ill buy you 2 a drink!" i yell over the blaring music.

"im down." he grinned. i grabbed his hand and we walked back to the bar, f/n and jake behind us.

as we sat back down, i introduced them to f/n. "this is f/n, she didnt go to the same highschool as us but we went to middle school together and weve been friends ever since."

jake shook her hand and johnnie waved. "im jake, and this is johnnie." he said, tilting his head towards johnnie.

"hey! its nice to meet you guys." she smiled sweetly.

we spent a couple more hoirs drinking and reminiscing over all of the awkward but funny moments we had together. the three of us were the chemistry group as people would say. although we fucked off a lot, all of us ended with a 95% or higher because we made that class bearable. id rather not talk about my other grades, though.

by the time we were leaving, me and johnnie were drunk as fucking sailors. we held onto eachother, stuck like glue as we giggled over everything. we frequently tripped, unsure of our footing causing f/n or jake to help us regain our shared balance. i had my arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other holding onto the arm that was wrapped around my waist. me and johmnie clicked, just like old times.

f/n and jake threw us in the backseat. johnnie laid his head on my shoulder and i rested my head on top of his. i was nearly asleep before i was awoken by johnnie gagging loudly. "ew, what the fuck was that about?" i slurred.

"i felt like it." he laughed. i rolled my eyes and got out of the car as we parked. i dragged johnnie out behind me and gripped onto him the same way i had before.

while i was drifiting off, f/n and jake had decided theyd just stay the night at our apartment. me and johnnie were estatic about our sleepover. "why dont we just share your bed?" he smiled and laughed, making his eyes squint.

i sighed contently. "that sounds amazing. you can be my pillow." i smiled sweetly.

"of course." johnnie slurred, following me into my room.

"goodnight, lovebugs, sleep tight." f/n teased while jake ooo'd from the living room.

i laughed at her comment and laid in bed next to johnnie. he looked deeply into my eyes, looking like he had something to say but holding back. but i knew what he wanted to say, and i wanted to say it too. "i was in love with you all throughout highschool." i confessed.

"really?" his face brightened, "i was, too. theres not a day where you dont cross my mind, still." he admitted.

"me too, i was so scared to reach out. i wish you said something before we graduated." i frowned.

"me too." he whispered, his eyes flickering down to my lips then back up into my eyes. his blue eyes pierced through mine, making my insides turn to mush.

we gazed into eachothers eyes for a solid minute before i leaned in and kissed him. he immediately kissed me back, grabbing my waist and pulling me in. it was passionate and needy, making chills run down my spine. i pressed into him, wanting more. his tongue swiped my bottom lip. i ran my fingers through his hair before flipping us over and sitting on top of him. his hands carefully slid down to my ass, giving it a gentl squeeze before moving down to grip my thighs.

johnnie pulled back. "is this okay?" he asked, breathing heavily.

i nodded fast, pulling him back in. i grinded down onto his hard member, making him whimper quietly into my mouth. he began to take off my shirt, breaking the kiss long enough that i could get his off, too. i lazily unbuttoned his pants, not bothering to break the kiss. i felt his hot breath heavy on my face. i pulled his jeans down just enough so i could see his boxers.

"fuck, y/n," johnnie whispered, pulling my shorts and underwear off from under my skirt. he didnt bother removing it.

i desperately oulled his boxers down, revealing his hardened cock. i bit my lip as i looked up at him. "youre okay with this, right?"

"yes, please, i need you so bad." johnnie moaned quietly, gripping my hips as i

lined up my entrance with his tip.

i slowly began to sit, just as eager to feel him inside of me as he was. "you dont know how long ive wanted to do this, pretty boy. fuck, you feel so good." i moaned, leaning down to kiss his neck, i sucked and bit, leaving dark hickeys all over his neck and chest.

his fingertips left prints in my hips, which were most likely going to bruise in the morning but the pressure was perfect. he melted under my touch, whimpereing curses under his breath.

i sped up the pace, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "youre so amazing," i moaned, placing my hands on his chest and tracing his tattoos.

"fuck, if you keep doing that im going to cum even quicker." he admitted, throwing his head back and biting down onto his lip.

i swiftly bounced on his cock, moaning and praises filled the room. "you fuck me so good." i tell johnnie, making his cock twitch inside of me.

"im going to cum," he whimpered and moaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

"cum with me, johnnie." i cursed under my breath.

my body tensed as i felt my stomach swirl and knot. i hit my climax, slowly riding his dick to help him ride out his high as well. he pulled out and came all over my stomach. "fuck." he said one last time, his body going limp.

i dropped down next to him, pulling the covers over our naked bodies. "i needed that so bad." i admitted before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

wrapped in eachothers arms, we slept like rocks.

[bugs1nmybrain]

Okay, I decided to wake up and choose violence, so here goes? Imagine? Shigaraki with a pudgy kindhearted girlfriend (quirk or quirkless) that he absolutely loves so much🥰 The two of them have been dating Since he first assembled the LOV, (or before than?) So, after the fight against Re-Destro both Re-Destro and trumpet found out that Shigaraki has a girlfriend. The both of them were very, very bothered and disturbed by it, because they think that the idea of him having a girlfriend would just get in the way of his plans? and when Shigaraki here’s about all of the negative things that they’re saying about his beloved and he LOSES IT! Like completely lost it 😱 and Confronts them about their bullshit And put them back in their place. 

with all my heart - Shigaraki x Fem!Reader

First off, AMAZING PROMPT! I love when people perceive Tomura as a lovebug because he IS

warnings: a mention of sex but no smut, fem-reader with she/her pronouns, swearing, the writing isn't cohesive and is totally off topic at first, white-haired Shigaraki, ANGSTY backstory about their love, kind of fluffy!!, short story, not proofread and likely has typos

Throughout all of Tomura Shigaraki's efforts to bring hero society to its knees, there has always been a deep-seated emptiness within him. It became painful for him, so much so that he would dig himself completely raw before falling asleep at night. He hated it. Even when he made progress and advancements in his goals, he felt hallow.

Until you made him feel whole.

You two met right after he had gathered the League together, by a very casual encounter. Tomura was known to go on walks at night when he felt frustrated, and so while he was trying to process all that was happening and the wonders his group was going to pursue, he stumbled upon you at the park.

Sobbing, he heard. It was startling, and he almost wanted to leave. He picked you out, though, huddled on a bench and shaking with your phone in your hand. You were wearing a pencil skirt and some graphic t-shirt, with eyeliner streaming down your face, and surrounded by literal broken hearts. Tomura felt a tug at his heart, somehow. He didn't understand it, and hated how much dread he felt while looking at you. He didn't understand why he resonated with you so much then until he had fought Re-Destro and the memories of his past awoken.

When you looked up at him, he felt stuck. He didn't want to leave, but he also didn't know what to do.

All he could manage was a mumbled, "Hey."

You had been kicked out of your parent's house because they didn't approve of your so-called "lifestyle." That "lifestyle" consisted of wearing fashionable clothes, not meeting their expectations even though you tried extremely hard to be productive, and above all else- you hated hero society. They hurt you emotionally to the point that you had contemplated horrible things, only to be thrown out. A so-called "snowflake" in their eyes, but when Tomura listened to what you had to say, he told you to "let it snow."

The way you warmed up to him ignited a protective and playful spirit in him. He instantly offered for you to live with him, which was hasty, but it would soon blossom into a sweet and beautiful relationship between the two of you.

You've told him many times about how he "saved" you, and to that he tells you to shut up, but never maliciously. He knows deep down that he feels warmth knowing that he could offer you safety, in his own crooked way. You did the same for him, he'd argue. You stuck with Tomura throughout all of it; when AFO was arrested and they had to live dirt cheap, when he was insistent on beating Gigantomachia, throughout all his meltdowns and bad moods, you were there to hold him and let him just be. After a long day of taking a beating and destroying what he could, he came back to you, and you'd make him whole again. He loved you so much.

So to hear this bird-faced baldy and snob politician with a pedo-stash talking shit on you? He was not having that.

-

Shigaraki lingered outside Re-Destro's office. He had the door closed, but he could tell he was talking to Trumpet. Shigaraki was going to approach him about buying the League (and you) a night out to the casino, but he couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"I never even expected Shigaraki to be able to have a romantic partner," Trumpet comments, almost impressed. "I can almost guarantee she's with him because she feels that she has no other choice."

"Either way, she's slowing down operations. I don't mean to question the Grand Commander, but-"

"He comes to meetings, clicks his pen with a few "uh-huhs" unless he's the one talking, and when the meeting is over, she's right outside the door," Trumpet continues.

maybe if you guys talked about shit I cared about, things would be different

"He strolls off with her, giving her the attention that he should be giving to the cause."

"Not to mention, her quirk doesn't have any practical use. Nothing that would help protect the cause."

(Your quirk was a fascinating one, and multifaceted, actually. When you were feeling emotions of love and adoration, you produced bubbly hearts around you. Their color depended on the context of love you felt. However, your quirk had an added bonus! Which was that when you loved someone deeply, their quirk had no effect on you.)

(I guess you could consider this like Eraserhead's quirk mixed with La Brava's. However, this quirk wouldn't work for characters with external quirks like Explosion, Electricity, or Fire, because those are produced as a substance and not as an on-contact quirk. So for her, quirks like Tomura's would apply, but so could Brainwashing, Erasure, Toga's quirk (I can't remember the name), Zero-Gravity, etc.)

"Maybe we could find a way to get Shigaraki to focus on the real mission. Draw her away from him, and have her see his true colors, that way her quirk loses its effect.."

Oh he had heard ENOUGH now.

Some childish spite in Tomura wanted to decay the whole door down and say "listen motherfuckers," but he did things the adult way. Sort of. So he waited until their conversation was over. Trumpet started to leave and turned the doorknob to be abruptly faced with Tomura's "oh you've done it now" smile.

"Oh-jesu-"

"Grand Commander! What is it you need? Did your weekly payment go through? Any mistakes? Let me know and I'll fix it!" Re-Destro exclaimed, half-genuinely at his awe of Shigaraki, and half trying to throw a bandaid over what he knew Tomura had heard.

"Oh, you're going to have to do a lot of compensation for the bullshit I just heard," Tomura grumbled, trying to go with intimidation rather than attack.

"I-I don't understand!"

"Re-Destro..." Trumpet cringed, knowing that Tomura was on their asses.

"But you understand so much, don'tcha?" Tomura turns the other way to face Trumpet, too. "And so don't you? How about I give you two some grand advice and say this: mind your own fucking business and if you have a problem with my woman, you're going to have to tally your asses off because she's NOT leaving."

"I don't mean to impose Shigaraki. It's just that she takes up quite a bit of your time."

"And how many of us are there to be attending to all the dirty work? Mr. "I'm-going-to-hide-up-in-my-tower-while-my-people-go-after-the-big-bad League of Villains?" Yeah, I'm sorry that you two are some miserable geezers who have to pay to get laid, but I'm not cutting corners with Y/N because you guys have some sticks up your asses. Get the hell over it."

"I-I understand, Shigaraki!"

Trumpet began to roll his eyes and excused himself to leave, and was immediately startled with another face he did not want to see.

"Hi babe!" Tomura smiled wide with puppy eyes when he saw you standing in the doorway.

"Hi Tomura," you smiled back, tiny pink hearts popping around you. The two older men could immediately sense the "love-bird" energy between the two of you and felt annoyed. You practically tip-toed your way into the room and stood beside Tomura awkwardly.

"How'd you know I was here?" Tomura teased, brushing your hair out of your face. He gave zero fucks about PDA right now. They deserved the discomfort in his eyes.

"I saw you up the stairs when I was looking for you. I woke up and you weren't in bed."

"Sorry, baby, I should've told you before I left. I was just coming up to Re-Destro's office to ask him something," Shigaraki slied while averting his attention over to Re-Destro. "You know, y/n's been telling me about how she really wants a PC."

"Oh, is that so?" Re-Destro fake laughed.

You simply nodded shyly, feeling put on the spot, but knew full well what Tomura was doing. You had ironically heard what Tomura was saying to them right after he was eavesdropping himself.

"Yeaaa. She wants a really expensive one, too."

You actually had only wanted a pretty standard one; you were humble. This was Tomura just pulling some extra strings for you.

"Is that too much, Re-Destro?" Tomura pestered. Trumpet snuck out and had been long gone by this point.

"Of course not! Just tell me the price and I'll make it happen."

"Thank you," you said quietly, though you and Tomura both knew that was meant for him and not Re-Destro.

-

When you and Tomura left Re-Destro's office, you headed back to your shared room. Tomura held your hand delicately, thinking about what they said before about trying to make your quirk ineffective toward him. A part of him feared that happening since you started dating, and their comments only reinforced that anxiety for him. You squeezed his hand tight in realization and continued to snuggle up on him like a clingy cat.

"You know I love you, right?" Tomura mutters.

"I love you more, Tomu" you bubbled with an infestation of smokey hearts blowing in his face.

"Jesus! Haha, I guess so.." he smiles, waving the hearts out of his face playfully with an instant frown following.

"What's wrong, Tomura?"

"Nothing. I mean, I guess I'm just angry at them, for saying those things about you."

"I hope I'm not a distraction like they said."

"What? No! Don't ever fucking think that, please. I swear, if they ever tell you that you're getting in the way, or try to turn you from me, I give you full permission to kill them. Or come to me, I'll do it for you. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"You already said that, dummy."

"You said it too!"

"Fuck," Tomura cackles, pulling you in tight for a kiss. "Did you know that you're my comfort character, y/n?"

"Oh really?" you laugh.

"Duh. You're my favorite person, and...you make me feel warm? Which means you're stuck in this bed with me until I say you can leave."

"Aye-aye, Grand Commander," you obeyed sarcastically, hearts fluttering around you too as he pet your hair.

"Good girl. I'm not letting any bald-headed asshole try to take you from me."

"They couldn't do that, Tomura. I love you too much."

"You said it again."

"And I'll say it a thousand times more," you said, kissing his cheek tenderly as you continued to hold him until your brand-new PC arrived at your doorstep (under 24 hour shipping! Thanks Re-Destro!).

[satoruyes]

co-parent bakugou .2

katsuki bakugou x nb reader (previous part)

(cw: smut, angst, kids, arguing, verbal abuse)

when bakugou comes back from his morning walk he goes into the kitchen to see raya over the stove cooking breakfast. “hey babe, goodmorning,” she turned to face him, “i'm sorry about last night; i was just upset.”

he nods and goes to their bedroom and gets undressed. raya, not being satisfied with his reaction, pauses breakfast and follows him up. she sneaks up behind him and runs her hand down his bare back. “i said i was sorry babe, you have to forgive me.” he turns around to face her.

“you know my dad doesn't like it when we argue.” he hated that. he hated it when she used her dads position as leverage. with rayas’ dad being the mayor and all; she’d grown to be a spoiled brat. sure he had the skill to be a pro-hero but maybe not the funds. his parents weren't exactly the richest in the world. so of course his wife offered to let her dad take care of it. just like that- pro-hero dynamite had his own agency.

he swallowed hard, some spit along with his pride and sighed, “yea, ‘m sorry bout last night. i wasn't in the best head space." raya smiled, and played with the waistband of his boxers. “it's okay lovebug, now just lay back and let me take care of you.” he stood there quietly and watched her. watching as she knelt down, pulling down his boxers as she did. taking his semi-hard dick into her hands then licking the tip while working her hand up and down his full length. she kind of falters at noticing he isn't getting hard as quickly as he usually does. “did you jerk off already today or something?” he lies and shakes his head yes as she stands up. “or maybe you just can't get hard for me anymore.” she says jokingly, and katsuki forces a laugh. unsure of what was causing the problem.

__

by the time you get up it's nearly 1pm, woken up by your antsy little toddler who you let sleep in your room for night. you get up then go do your morning routine. (accompanied by your curious toddler of course) when you finish both of your morning routines you go towards the kitchen to make your cereals of choice. you go up to your room to grab your phone and see a text from bakugou. “When can i see my kid again” you sigh and reply telling him he can come over today. he likes the message and lets you know that his wife will be tagging along as well. great.

they get to your house around 3pm. you welcome them in and take them to the living area. bakugou mentions he brought something over for hana and went back to the car. leaving you and raya alone. you sit there kind of quietly while hana is wearing headphones watching her tablet. raya observes the girl, “hm.. are you even sure its his? she looks a little.. slow,” she says nonchalantly. you stare in disbelief at her, shocked she’d even say that straight to your face. “excuse me?”

“its a cute baby of course, kats’ genes really tried their best but..” she pauses “i can just imagine how pretty our baby girl is gonna be- you know with that being said, i'd really appreciate it if you kind of backed off. he needs to be an attentive father to our baby, not yours. i don't need to be worried about some desperate baby momma.’’ you scoff, you had enough of this wench disrespecting you and your child in your own home. without thinking you end up over your coffee table landing a smack across her face. she yelps in pain and hold her face like it was the most precious thing ever. “what you are not about to do is come up in my house and disrespect me and my daughter. you can get the fuck out.”

she immediately ran outside to katsuki, leaving you alone with a dumbstruck hana. you ignored the little girl's curious expression and just simply ran your hands through your hair. it wasn't too long after before you heard daunting footsteps headed your way. “what the fuck did you do? yer gonna let me bring my wife up in here just to disrespect ‘er? why the fuck of all people are you calling her a tramp ‘nd sayin she got sloppy seconds? of all people. i'm trying real hard to be in my daughter's life but yer being a real bitch about it.” without letting you say anything he drops a gift bag and leaves. leaving you once again, and leaving you speechless.

__

later that night you drop your daughter off with her grandparents and go see your old friend, eijirou kirishima. you two usually caught up at least once a month. drink a little, laugh a little, indulge a little. he's been such a great friend, so supporting and always there for you. even occasionally watching hana for you. but today you two are all alone, and both a little too drunk for either of your liking. it starts off with friendly peckish little neck kisses, short playful pecks on the lips. nothing you two haven't explored before.

but tonight something was different. you expressed to him how stressful things were today with what happened with katsukis wife. he told you he’d make you feel better and you just kind of brushed it off. but now it's hard to brush it off when he's knuckles deep inside of you, working his fingers deeper and deeper inside. you just throw your head back against his plush couch letting the pleasure take you away. “eijirou.. please,” you whine. he shoots you a toothy grin with half hooded eyes. “please what? you can use your words, i know you can.” you whine more while he works his fingers into your special spot. once you finish he pulls out grinning; leaving you blissed out with arousal apparent by his print visible.

he gets you a ride home, both too intoxicated to drive anywhere. he opens the door for you then hugs and kisses you goodnight. you get home and go to sleep.

when you wake up the next morning your head is pounding and your phone is blowing up. the most alarming test came from your mother

: “How could you be so stupid?”

: “Letting the press see you getting so personal with someone”

: “Theres photos of you and that Kirishima boy going around of you kissing”

you dont get why it was such a big deal. you didn't even care, with your parents being famous pro-heroes everything you've done since birth has been documented. it's tiring and after your daughter's birth you stopped caring. Doing whatever you wanted regardless of the paparazzi, but them following you over to kirishima's house was ridiculous. The second text you read was from bakugou;

: “Out of all of my friends you go for him?”

: “You didnt feel the need to tell me about this?”

: “Really ??? Eijirou? Has he been around Hana?”

you got kind of upset at his messages more than you did your mom. what did it matter to him, he doesnt get to control who you talked to. he’s not your boyfriend nor your dad. you leave him on read and you scroll through your twitter feed. filled with photos of you and kirishima kissing. “PRO-HERO MIYU and YUIKA SUZUKI CHILD CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH PRO-HERO RED RIOT” you sigh and almost turn your phone off but see another set of messages from bakugou, was he jealous?

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Himbo Househusband Loves When…

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when you take the day off to workout with him. Whether your and exercise buff or just trying it out, he’s in bliss. Being strong is Morgan’s strongest suite, hence his underground name being Behemoth, so his heart’s beating a mile minute. Sometimes it’s more exciting than pummeling those ambushers in the underground. It’s even cuter when you struggle with his toned down work out.

“Ergh! How do you even move this? This is literally three tons!”

“Ah don’t worry babe, that’s just for a warm-ups!”

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when you purposely touch his muscles especially his pecks. Just the way you casually squeeze his muscles, sends him in a frenzy. He’s always been told or flirted with about his muscular stature but it’s completely different when his Lovebug comments on it. It effectively boosts his pride that you appreciate his hard work he’s been doing.

“Ah such big boobas!”

“Just for you Lovebug!”

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when you cheer him on. Now there’s no way he let’s you attend his death+matches but you being his cheerleader in anything else makes his heart and something else+ swell. Hearing your strained voice calling out to him in the heat of the neighborhood eating contests—pumps him up like no one else. Heck! If you just cheered him on for not breaking anything in the house he can’t help but want to pounce.

“Just a little! Love Bug Pleeeeeease! You can’t cheer me on and not let me do it!”

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when people challenge him for you. He knows your a catch, its only a given that’d there be competition. And what better way to show his love than clobbering the coworker that was saying mean things really quietly. Don’t scrunch your eyebrows! They really did say something mean. He’ll act real angry if anyone vaguely references you in the ring he’ll literally beat them into a bloody pulp but deep down he’s jumping at the chance to defend your honor. It’s all for his Lovebug!

“I’ll enjoy beating your face in!”

Yandere Himbo Househusband loves when he can treat you especially when its at the expense of anyone who say something he doesn’t like. There’s just something so satisfying about watching you get all dressed up for a night out after he earned a cash-gift from a workout buddy. That workout buddy being the bloody remains being delivered to make a special kind of smoothie.

“You look a million dollars, babe!”

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

Eddie is late hes so fucking late and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get this fucking kiss with you, he will go fucking crazy and do something so stupid that he’ll be banished to the depths of hell. Fuck it why did he have to work on new years eve , of every day of the year this one ? He’s pretty sure he broke at least 6 laws getting to the house but he is willing to deal with the consequences only after kissing you

10

He just got home , he left his car door open just to make it in time.

9

Hes unlocking the front door with his Metallica key you gifted him for his birthday as a way of asking him to move in with you.

8,7,6

He runs in the house & accidentally trips over ozzy & sabbath , the cat & puppy you also gifted him for his birthday but not before he gives them kisses too. “Love you guys , still my favorite gift ever”

5,4,3

Hes running running running up your shared staircase trying his best to get to you before the tv announcers make it to “happy new year.”

2

He runs into your shared bedroom and walks in on you in your favorite monkey slippers ,his favorite red lace panties and the red and pink hellfire shirt he gifted you.

1

He grabs your face despite the snowflakes on his gloves and plants the sweetest loving kiss you’ve ever received. Hes so happy to go into the new year with you and even more excited to have many more moments like this. “Happy new year baby, maybe next year you’ll be my wife”

happy new years my beautiful beautiful babies i fucking love you all so goddamn much its fucking crazy. know that you are loved and cared for.

@lovebugism @taintedcigs @chrrymunson @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @keeksandgigz @stveharringtn @trashmouth-richie @luveline @harrywavycurly @punk-in-docs @purplehazed-h @ghost-proofbaby @neonghostlights