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#the inhale bit is sooo good
enjoytheglow · 8 months
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This is so Sally and Mae
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chuluoyi · 9 months
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LOVER'S QUARREL
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.
genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)
note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
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Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.
And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.
But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.
You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.
You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.
So how dare he spout this now?
“I can't do this anymore.”
"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"
"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."
This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.
You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"
"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."
Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.
Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.
"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"
Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"
"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"
In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.
And yet...
"...I'm sorry."
Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.
And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."
As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.
Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."
You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.
Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.
Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.
"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.
"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."
"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"
"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."
"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."
. . .
"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.
Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”
Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”
“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”
He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.
Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…
How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?
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Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.
With Hakari.
“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.
An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.
Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.
“Megumi?”
Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?
“Megumi!”
“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”
He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."
But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.
"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"
"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.
From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.
...huh?
Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?
What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.
Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—
Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.
How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.
How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.
But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.
“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?
Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?
They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.
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What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?
You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!
You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...
"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.
You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."
This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?
Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.
"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.
Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."
You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.
Stay close, he said... So he is worried...
And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.
You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"
"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.
"You two seem close."
Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?
Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"
In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.
You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?
"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.
Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.
But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"
Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.
For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.
Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.
And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"
"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"
He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.
You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"
"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.
"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.
"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"
Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—
At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.
He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—
Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.
You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.
Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.
And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.
"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"
You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.
It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.
"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."
Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.
"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.
"Don't leave me."
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It was like a distant, hazy memory.
Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.
The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.
You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.
Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.
Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.
Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...
You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.
"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."
When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.
"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."
You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.
“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.
He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.
"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.
However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."
...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?
"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."
"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"
"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"
“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”
Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.
"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"
You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.
You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"
"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.
He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."
And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."
Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."
And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.
“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”
A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.
But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."
And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.
"Maybe I am, yeah."
"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."
"Yeah..."
But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.
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On one sunny day...
"Hey, are you alone?"
Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.
"No. Can I help you?"
The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"
The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—
Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.
"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."
Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.
"Megumi!"
Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—
He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.
"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"
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n0thingbutlov3 · 3 months
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need you now
in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)
“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”
His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.
You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.
You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.
“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.
“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.
You swallowed it down.
“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.
You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.
“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.
You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.
It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.
When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.
It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.
You think this qualified.
You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.
You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.
You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.
You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.
“Spencer?” You slurred.
He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.
You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.
You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.
“I’m fine.”
Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.
“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.
You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.
“How did you get in?”
“My key.”
“Oh.”
Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.
“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.
“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.
You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.
You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.
“Angel, what’s wrong?”
You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.
“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.
Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.
His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.
“Do you want to talk?”
Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?
“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.
“Okay.”
Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.
“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.
You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.
He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.
“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—
“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.
and—actually, you were fine now.
He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.
He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.
“Whole thing, please.”
You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.
“Happy?”
“Very.”
You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.
The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.
You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.
“Why did we break up?”
He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.
“I—you know why—“
“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.
Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.
“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?
“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”
Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.
“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“
“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.
“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.
“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.
“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”
Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.
“Of course I want to.”
“Okay,”
“Okay.”
He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.
Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.
As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.
You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.
“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”
He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.
“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.
“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”
You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.
“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.
Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.
“Unless you want to, I mean—“
“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.
He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.
You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.
You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.
“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.
“Nothing. You’re pretty.”
“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“Why?”
“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”
Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.
“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”
You nodded.
“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”
You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.
“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”
You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.
part two!
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rodolfoparras · 4 months
Text
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LUNCH
Cw: 18+, oral sex, trans!Laios, Afab terminology used to describe genitalia (cunt, pussy, clit) sub!Laios, dom male!reader.
Thinking about Laios eating til his stomach aches and he feels sick all while you coax him with the sweetest smile on your lips, declining whenever he offers you a piece because it won’t be long before you have your own meal.
And you know that he knows it as well, going by the pink dusted upon his cheek and the way he keeps squirming whenever you look at him.
Eventually Laios pushes the last bit of food away from him, looking both satied and on the verge of getting sick as he rubs his belly.
You busy yourself with cleaning up the plates as Laios takes a moment to catch his breath.
By the time you’re done he’s stripped the clothes off him, lays there with parted legs and looks at you with an expectant look on his face.
As if on command you drop to the ground, eager hands digging into plush thighs, and swiftly parting his legs to accommodate you.
The heady scent of his cunt is quick to hit you, mouth already watering as if you can taste him, every inch of you itching to just touch the man that seems so eager for you.
And you do just that, digits brushing over the fringe of curls before swiping them over his already slick folds, watching the strings of wetness reluctantly break under your touch, fingers quickly getting covered in his arousal. “Jesus Christ,”
A strangled noise escapes the blond’s lips, one hand falling to his flushed face while the other tugs you closer to him “ come on come on hurry,”
And that’s all it takes for you to nuzzle up against the matted curls, inhaling the smell of his sweat and musk before finally licking a stripe up his cunt
“Oh- oh yes!!” Laios cries out, sound so loud it echos amongst the dungeon walls but you don’t bother to quiet him down, too engrossed with working your tongue on his cunt, savoring the taste of him like he’d done with his meal earlier.
The taste of him isn’t sweet, nothing like the pastry he’d just eaten. It’s a tangy taste, lays heavy on the tongue, and crowds your lungs til you cant smell or taste anything other than his cunt but you find that you cant get enough.
“So -ah sooo -sosoo good yes!” Laios moans out, looking like a whole sight with his eyes half lidded mouth agape, the muscles in his stomach contouring every time the tip of your tongue grazes his clit.
You continue to work your mouth on him, dragging your tongue along his slit, pushing the tip inside him, watching the soundless gasp that escape his lips, as he rolls his hips. “Ah! Please!”
It isn’t until you slip two fingers inside that he starts rocking up into your touch, movements erratic and clumsy it has your nose continuously bumping against his mound, cheeks getting smeared in arousal, and obscene squelching sound echoing loud.
But Laios cant find it in himself to be embarrassed, too busy with bucking and shuddering under your touch, slick walls clenching down onto your fingers as if it were your cock, thighs shaking as he inches closer to his orgasm.”mpfh- so so close- just a little bit more please!”
That’s all the encouragement you need, fingers continuously jabbing at the spot that lights every nerve in his body as you vigorously suck on his clit, ‘M cumming ‘m cumming yesyesyes’” he cries out, body tensing up, before you feel his cunt pulsating around your fingers.
You don’t stop even when he’s completely spent, sobs escaping his lips, and desperately trying to crawl away from your grip. “s enough s enough please,”
“Just one more time, alright?”
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niya-writesshit · 3 months
Text
variety
art donaldson x fem!reader
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TW: smut MDNI - p in v, oral m receiving - infidelity, art is a little bit of a perv, derogatory language
word count: 2047
¡! ❞ a/n: bold = art's thoughts!
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art knew it was wrong. he knew it was wrong when his eyes tracked your body with every stretch, every jump, when his dick began to rise as he watched you play, when he caught himself thinking of you while fucking his wife.
he knew it was all so, so, so wrong.
but yet, when you came up to him, after winning his match at the tournament the two of you were playing at, asking if he coached (he didn't), he found himself blurting out a desperate and high-pitched "yes!"
you raised your eyebrows slightly at his tone, but smiled brightly nonetheless. "great!" you responded, looking up at him through your lashes. "i'm gonna try out for the olympics, sooo. i need a really good coach."
i'm not a coach. tashi's a great coach, art thought. my wife, she's a great coach.
"well, i'm a great coach!" art assured you. why did i say that? "at least, that's what, um, they tell me." who's they? shit, just shut up. he clamped his mouth shut.
"good," you nodded. "here's my number. just text me your availability." you fumbled with your purse, producing a wrinkled piece of paper with your phone number scrawled on it.
"will do," art answered, curt, dry, and professional so he wouldn't say anything too stupid like i'm super infatuated with you and i was staring at your tits the whole time you were talking and i want to bend you over and fuck your brains out every single time you make eye contact with me. or something along those lines.
you smiled again, flashing your perfect teeth before turning around on your heels and flouncing out of the court, leaving art standing there, jaw slightly agape as he watched your hips sway. he felt a tent begin to form in his pants and he cursed under his breath.
✮✮✮
"i'm so fucked." art downed another shot of vodka, slamming the glass down on the chipped wood veneer of the bar. "she's got, like, fucking pornstar tits, pat! it's so crazy."
patrick sat on the barstool next to him, cigarette dangling from his lips and fingers tapping a rhythm onto the bar. "and you're not gonna do anything about it?"
art looked at him with a look of disbelief, brows furrowed and lip captured by his front teeth. "obviously not! i have a wife."
"well, that's clearly not stopping you from thinking about her pornstar tits."
art sighed loudly, leg bouncing on the stool. "nothing wrong with having a little crush." he definitely wasn't thinking about how you'd look under him, pinned against the mattress of his fancy hotel room, eyes crossed, mouth agape, yelling his name. definitely not.
" 's long as you don't fuck her at your little private sesh," patrick sang, taking a long drag of the cigarette. art shot him a glare. "i'm not even discouraging it, bud. i think it'd be good for you."
"cheating on my wife would be good for me?"
"variety feels good," patrick said, passing him the cigarette. art took it gratefully, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling deeply. the two boys sat in silence for a few seconds, art surveying the dingy bar and patrick surveying the group of girls in the corner.
"i think i should tell her i don't coach."
"i think you should have sex with her."
✮✮✮
the day of your first private practice, art was wracked with emotion — mostly lust.
the night before, he called your number, almost creaming right then and there when your voice rang out, soft and sweet, exclaiming his name. he was perched on the bathtub of him and tashi's hotel room, afraid that simply talking to you was infidelious, and that any moment, tashi would burst in and just divorce him on the spot. but the conversation went smoothly, and the next morning, art was stumbling out to a private court, racket and a bucket of tennis balls in hand.
you were already there when he arrived at the court, dressed in a white tennis skirt and black tank, stretching your legs. you smiled when you saw art and bounced up to your feet. "you're late," you quipped.
"a little," art responded, already flustered. "sorry." he gave you a crooked smile.
you smiled back and beckoned him over to where you had been stretching. a notebook sat flipped open on the ground, and you bent over to pick it up, skirt hitching up high enough that art could see the beginnings of blue lace panties.
fuck.
"i watched over the recording of my match yesterday," you explained, handing him the notebook, which was filled with pretty handwriting and tennis diagrams. "my boyfriend and i just kind of wrote down everything we thought i needed to work on."
art didn't hear anything else you said after boyfriend. 'course she has a boyfriend. why wouldn't she? he nodded anyway, distracted by the light brush of your arm against his hand as you pointed out different things on the page. he can smell your shampoo. the scent of your perfume invades his senses, making him feel a little dizzy.
you looked up at him as you finished explaining, grin widening at the expression on his face. he was staring straight at you, eyes slightly glossy and breathing slow. you had him right where you wanted him.
"art?"
"yeah, sounds great!" art's voice was strained, and he blinked quickly to focus back in on your voice, which was now detailing how much time the two of you had to work.
two hours. that's all. c'mon, you can get through that without a boner.
✮✮✮
no he could not. the way you moved on the court, combined with your little squeals every time you hit the ball, combined with your tiny little skirt, combined with the grin you were flashing him, combined with you just being you, made his dick strain against his pants as he watched you from the bleachers, hitting balls into the wall.
"try to, um, keep your knees bent a little more." he was trying to coach, imitating the way tashi would talk to him when they were on the court. he barked commands that didn't really mean much and drew diagrams on the book that looked less like people and more like limp noodles.
you didn't really need the coaching — you were a beautiful player, fast and relentless with perfect technique. but you wanted art there, wanted to feel his gaze burning into your ass, or your tits, or the curve of your spine while you hit the tennis balls with amazing accuracy. he hadn't seemed to notice that you didn't need his help, because he continued to order you around in a tone that made your thighs clench and your panties soak.
after an hour, art joined you on the court, expression neutral but eyes still trained on your chest as you played a couple of sets. you kept making low eye contact with him, and it was driving him crazy.
fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
your skirt flipped up as you jumped to the side for the ball, flashing him a gorgeous view of your underwear. it flew up again, and you seemingly didn't notice as you bent over to grab another ball. art noticed. he also noticed the prominent wet patch that was forming around your entrance, making his breath hitch in his throat yet again.
she's wet. for me?
you continued to play, but art was distracted, faulting again and again. "are you okay, art?" you called from across the court, noticing his troubled expression.
art nodded and replied with a pained smile, holding up a thumb.
"your serve."
✮✮✮
after your practice, you made your way back to the locker rooms. you were chattering about technique, taking great pleasure in the way art was looking at you, pupils blown and eyes low.
you split at the entrance, art making his way to the men's showers and you to the women's. "shit," you muttered, looking up at the big CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE sign.
art was just standing under the water, letting the cold hit his skin as if to rid him of the thoughts he was having and the absolute raging desire that coursed through him. he jumped when he heard the creak of another shower knob turn behind him.
you were already undressed, and the sight of the perfect tits art had been dreaming about bare made him dizzy. you gave him a crooked little frown. "women's showers are closed. hope you don't mind."
art shook his head slowly, eyes locked on your figure. "not at all."
fuck this.
he couldn't contain himself any longer. he sprung at you, grabbing you by the hips and latching his lips onto yours as water continued to cascade over the two of you. you reciprocated the kiss sloppily, hands roaming over his toned skin as your tongues tangled.
you didn't really care, but you felt like you had to say something to protest, make up some type of excuse that made you seem like a little less of a bad person. "we really shouldn't," you panted, pulling away. "you have a wife."
"you have a boyfriend," art spat, hands still freely exploring your chest. "an' that didn't stop you from being a little slut back at the court." art's words were stinging, because this was all your fault. how was he supposed to focus on his wife when you were here, so beautiful and willing?
that was all you needed to kiss him again, nodding and swirling your tongue against his. art continued to grope at your tits, pinching and pulling at your nipples. you glanced down at his dick, which was brick-hard and glistening under the water. dropping to your knees, you tease his tip with soft, sloppy kisses, making him buck his hips against your mouth.
slowly, you took his dick down your mouth, sucking at the tip hard enough to elicit a low groan from the man. up and down up and down up and down on his dick went your mouth, your pace quickening as his hands reached down to grip onto your hair. "shit, love," he grunted, snapping his hips so he was fucking your throat, causing tears to spring into your eyes. you had never looked more beautiful in art's eyes, sopping wet, mascara smudged and hair sticking to your face in little ringlets. he continued to shove his cock down your throat despite the little gagging sounds you were making. with each thrust, his moans grew louder, his fingers tangling in your hair. finally, he pulled out of your mouth with a pop!, spurting cum all over your face and some into your open mouth.
"turn around."
you turned your body so you were flush against the wall, ass sticking up and chest pressed up against the cold tile. art surveying your folds, unable to tell if the sopping entrance was covered in just water or arousal too. either way, it served as the perfect lubricant, allowing his cock to slip right into you, making you arch your back against him. the moans slipping past your lips were practically pornographic as he rammed into you hard enough that you could feel the bulge in your belly. art grunted with each snapping movement of his hips. "fuck," he hissed lowly, the feeling of your beautiful, tight little pussy around his cock so good he heard himself whimper.
your whole body moved as he pounded into you feverishly, hands slipping against the wall as you tried to stabilize yourself. your pussy clenched around him, legs shuddering as your release rushed through your body like an avalanche of pleasure. you glanced back at him, taking in the way his eyes fluttered and his mouth shook. "does tashi feel as good as i do?"
and that was it. 8 words that threw him right over the edge, spurting into you with fervor. infidelity shouldn't turn him on this much, shouldn't feel so fucking good. but it did.
and when he stumbled back to the hotel room, pecking tashi lightly on the lips, cock still throbbing, he thought to himself — patrick was right, variety felt amazing.
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¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024
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moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
hiii I'm just here resubmitting my request<3 so maybe r was in a fire (a small or large one, u decide), james was called and when he finds out it was her he gets sooo worried and she goes to the hospital or something? thank u!!
Thanks for requesting my love!
cw: fire, paramedics/ambulance, symptoms of smoke inhalation
firefighter!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
James starts to stand you up when the ambulance turns onto your block. 
“Jamie, don’t bother them.” You feel a cough building in your chest, but you repress it. “I’m f—fine.” It escapes on the last syllable, and you can barely look at your boyfriend as he raises his eyebrows at you, incredulous.
“Humor me,” he says simply. 
You let him pull you up this time, and he presses a kiss into your hair even though you smell like pollution. James has stripped out of his bulky jacket, but the heavy pants still hang from suspenders wrapped around his black t-shirt. The fabric swishes against your leg as you make your way over to the ambulance. 
“We need oxygen,” he says without prelude, though not unkindly, nodding at the paramedic that gets out first in greeting. 
As if to punctuate this, your throat pinches warningly, and you let out a couple of meager coughs. James’ arm contracts around your waist. 
The paramedic seems to trust his authority, nodding for her partner to get something ready in the back while she walks over to you. 
“Look here please,” she says. 
You obey, flinching slightly when she points a pen light in your eyes. James’ hand migrates up to your shoulder, rubbing lightly. 
“Any dizziness?” 
“No,” you say, coughing a bit. 
She clicks her light off. “Nausea or vomiting?” 
“No.” 
“Headache?” 
“No.” 
James cuts a look your way. “Sweetheart,” he says softly. 
“I did have a headache,” you amend, “but it went away.” 
“Chest pain?” 
“A little,” you admit. 
“Shortness of breath?” 
“I don’t…” You look to James, then feel stupid. It’s not like he knows. “I don’t think so?” 
“Coughing?” 
“Yes,” James says emphatically. 
The paramedic gives him a funny look, then asks you, “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you confirm. A little cough works its way out of your lungs as if to prove it. 
James looks a bit chastised. He rubs your back, touch both firm and comforting. 
She gives you both a smile. “Come sit back here, please.” 
You follow her into the back of the ambulance, perching awkwardly on the gurney in the middle.
“It seems like you have relatively mild symptoms of smoke inhalation,” she tells you. Her partner passes her a mask, and she holds it over your face for a few seconds before letting you do it yourself. Her fingers press to your wrist. “Your eyes are irritated, but it’s a good sign that your headache went away already. There’s probably not much more we can do other than give you oxygen. Your other symptoms should ease on their own.” 
You nod your understanding, relieved even if you’d been the one saying you didn’t need any help. With James, it’s typically best if only one of you shows your worry at a time. And he’s plenty worried enough for both of you right now. 
You glance over at him, standing outside with his arms crossed. It’s doing crazy things to his biceps, and you think that usually he’d grin if he caught you checking him out like this but now he looks like he might start tapping his foot impatiently. You feel guilty for getting him in such a tizzy. 
The paramedic finishes with your pulse and follows your gaze. “That your boyfriend?” she asks. 
Your breath fogs the mask. “Mhm.” 
“He seems fairly rattled,” she notes. “I supposed it’s probably not typical to get called to a fire at your girlfriend’s place, though.”
“Yeah,” you sigh. 
You’d already been sitting out on the lawn when James’ crew had arrived, the fire already put out and your front door left open. Smoke rolled out of it in one thick, relentless wave. You still have no idea how a fire that couldn’t have been burning more than fifteen minutes had created so much. You suppose James could tell you if you asked him later. 
The others had run inside, but James had gone straight to you. His chief wanted to confirm with you that there was no one else in the home (there wasn’t) and that you’d gotten out quickly (you didn’t have a great answer for that one). Like pulling teeth, it came out that you’d fallen asleep with dinner in the oven, and it was only by coincidence that someone had called your phone and the ringing woke you up. You’d turned off the oven and dumped cupfuls of water on your flaming dinner until it went out, but the smoke had spread throughout your home and your neighbor had already called emergency services. 
This led to you having to admit you hadn’t replaced the batteries in your smoke detector, which had led to a fervent lecture from your boyfriend that you doubt you’ve heard the end of. It was only the arrival of the ambulance that had distracted him. 
The paramedic sitting next to you jerks her chin toward James. That’s all it takes to get his attention, since he’s watching you like you’re going to float away if he doesn’t keep a close eye on things. 
“You can come up here,” she tells him. 
James clambers up quickly, giving her a terse smile at half his usual wattage as she moves to let him take her place next to you. 
“Hey, angel.” He takes the mask from you, holding it to your face himself. His other hand slides down the inside of your forearm and interlocks its fingers with yours. “Is she okay?” he asks the paramedic you’d spoken to. 
“Her symptoms are minor,” she assures him. “I wanna keep her on oxygen for ten minutes or so before checking her levels, but she’ll be fine.” 
James nods in thanks, but his sigh ghosts over the shell of your ear when he leans his brow against the side of your head. The paramedics conveniently find other things to do, and you’re grateful for it. 
“I’m sorry,” you tell him quietly. 
“I think you should stay at my place tonight,” he says, matching your tone, “if that’s alright with you.” 
“Yeah,” you laugh a little. It provokes your lungs, and a cough follows. 
James winces. Kisses your cheek softly. 
“Yeah,” you try again. “That sounds good, thank you.” 
“The next time you set foot in your place, I’m going with you and installing new smoke detectors.” 
Now you wince. “Fair enough.” 
“And I don’t think you should ever cook or nap again.” 
“That seems a bit far.” 
“I dunno, I think I’m being reasonable.” He kisses your cheek again, lingering this time. “I’d prefer to wrap you in some sort of fireproofed bubble wrap, but I think this is a compromise we can both live with, no?” 
You smile, and you can’t tell if your chest hurts because of your smokey lungs or the raw quality to James’ teasing, but it helps when he smiles back. 
“What if,” you say, “you cook, and I nap. Would that satisfy you?” 
He mulls this over for a second. “For now,” he decides. “I think I’d still like to work on fire-proofing some bubble wrap in the meantime, though.”
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chelseeebe · 8 months
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still into you, part 2
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eddie’s back, keeping to his word while trying to make up for his past mistakes. will it all work out when your worlds collide?
sauurrr i feel like i want to do a part 3 bc i have ideas but i’m not sure !!??!! also i just wanna say that it’s felt sooo good seeing people in my notifications again, tumblr finally unshadowed me after emailing them god knows how many times !!
18+, mdni. smut. a lil bit of angst and mean words towards reader and mentions of pregnancy. no use y/n!
read part 1 here.
‎♡‧₊˚
he’s late.
you’d spoken on the phone this morning and eddie had told you he’d be back some time tonight and that you should wait up because it’ll be worth it.
and now he’s fucking late.
late or not even coming.
it had been a long month of phone calls and anxiously reading magazine articles about his whereabouts, learning to trust again hadn’t been easy. there had been a handful of times where he’d called too late and missed you or you’d called while he was out which meant you’d gone days without speaking.
steve had done his best to reassure you that it was just different out there and you shouldn’t worry. he’d made a promise, right?
but there’s a pressure in your chest now, a feeling you hadn’t felt since the first time he left. defeated and dejected once again.
eddie is so late that you fall asleep on the couch. the same couch you first kissed him on just a few weeks ago. your dreams are filled with images of eddie, the wide smile that graced his face when ella forced him into fairy wings or the look on his face when you’d roll over in the middle of the night and kissed the corner of his mouth.
you’re awoken by a soft palm cupping your cheek, eyes peeking open to see the familiar silhouette of curls and denim now illuminated by the flickering television, deep set frown on his lips.
“i’m so sorry,” he starts, the words sound like static in your barely conscious mind, “my plane was delayed and i couldn’t call you.. i’m so fucking sorry,” you realise he’s on his knees in front of the couch, still squinting as you adjust to the light.
“i thought you weren’t coming,” you murmur, placing your hand atop his, the pressure in your chest subsiding the more you realise that he’s actually real and not just a dream.
eddie sighs, it’s his fault for even giving you reason to have those doubts and that kills him. “of course not.. i made a promise,” his thumb strokes gentle patterns into your cheek, “i’m coming back, always.”
“mhm,” you nod, a mix of tiredness and a lingering lack of trust.
“you wanna go to bed?” he asks, desperate to get in your good books again. hell, he’d have to do far more than this to make seven years of shit up to you.
“only if you carry me,” offering your arms out, if ella can do it, you can to.
“obviously,” he chuckles, sliding his arms underneath your knees, hoisting you off of the couch.
you’re anything but quiet walking up stairs, giggling into his neck as he groans his way up the staircase. “fuck, i’m getting old,” he complains, backing his way into your room, gently laying your body on top of the duvet before knocking the door shut.
you nestle into the pillows, watching eddie as he undresses, his jacket hitting the floor with a soft thud. he’d only been gone a month but you’d missed his presence. the way his eyes glided over your body, enamoured by your less-than-impressive mom body.
he collapses onto the bed, shuffling underneath the blanket with you, reaching out to bring you closer. “i know i said..” his nose pokes against your neck, a deep inhale before he continues, “that it’d be worth it.. but i’m tired and you’re tired so.. can i just make it up to you tomorrow?” nuzzling against your soft skin.
your laugh vibrates against his cheek, sliding your arms around his neck, legs tangling together in a mess of limbs, “eddie munson turning down sex? jesus christ, what’s happened to you?”
eddie grunts, deep and husky, flipping the situation on it’s head as he clambers on top, “oh fuck you,” his barely holding himself up, body weight keeping you pressed firmly against the mattress.
“please do,” grinning up at him, marvelling the way that even in the dark, he was still the prettiest man you’d ever laid eyes on.
his lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your jawline, hips rutting against the thin material of your pajama shorts.
when his mouth meets the delicate spot between your collarbone and the crook of your neck, you can’t help but let slip the one thing you’d been waiting to say, “i’m glad you came back,” gasping as his teeth graze the fragile skin.
he pauses, looking up at you, basked in moonlight, “i’ll always come back to you,” mumbling quietly, before continuing his descent down your body.
your eyes flutter shut, allowing your body to relax, blissful desire overcoming every nerve.
holy shit, you were happy.
-
the next few months go by smoothly. he’s back when he says he’s going to be, keeping his nose clean and his head down while he’s out on the west coast.
of course it’s never easy saying goodbye. each and every time you’re filled with this sense of dread, petrified that this might just be the time he doesn’t return.
but he does.
each and every time.
eddie had got back late last night, still half-asleep as he sips his coffee next to ella, haphazardly feeding her the breakfast she was quite capable of feeding herself.
“i’ve been thinking,” he starts, watching as you busy about with dishes. he doesn’t understand how you have the energy to care about that shit this early in the morning. “i think you should come out to california with me.. next time i go back,” shoving a spoonful of mushy pancakes into ella’s mouth.
you pause but don’t turn to face him, staring down at the sink full of bubbles, “what for?”
that part of his life didn’t interest you one bit, maybe he enjoyed it and you were happy if he was but that wasn’t anything you wanted. in fact, you’d been meaning to bring it up for a while now.
you understood that dating eddie meant that strangers were far more interested in your relationship than they should be but they’d started to accost you at work, taking ella to and from school, just about anywhere in public. the attention was starting to get a little tiring, nothing you couldn’t handle but you’d wondered if he somehow had the power to stop them.
“well,” handing the spoon to ella and getting up from the table to join you at the sink, “we’ve got our album rollout soon so i’m gonna have to be out there a little longer this time,” his shoulder knocks into yours, pulling your attention from the dirty dishes, “but.. we have our release party and i want you to be there,” pulling that cheeky grin he knew you couldn’t say no to.
how much longer? he was already out there for weeks at a time, how much longer could they keep him? oh god what if they go on tour? you’d never cope.
“release party?” grabbing the dishcloth, wiping the suds from your hands, “i don’t even know what that is.. you don’t want me there,” turning to face him and his sickening smile.
“of course i do,” lips turning into a frown, taking the cloth from your hands, “it’s a small party.. the boys and their girlfriends.. a few people who helped on the album,” he’s serious now, dipping his head to meet yours. “they wanna meet you, everyone does.”
you sigh, looking into his gleaming eyes. you’re obviously apprehensive to agree, if the stories you’d heard of the other guys were anything to go by, that weren’t the goofy nerds you’d once watch practice all night, now you think you’d actually probably hate them.
“what about ella?” turning to look at your daughter, your one saving grace.
“i’m sure we can figure that out,” eddie blinks, “steve can have her or.. or his mom,” throwing out anything he could think of, “i’ll throw them some money, make sure she has the best week ever,” rubbing his fingers together.
“he won’t take your money eddie,” you sigh. steve would never, because as much as he now liked eddie, he was still your best friend and he knew you’d kill him if he did.
“no,” eddie whines, “it’s not for steve, it’s for ella.. so they can go and do whatever they want.. eat whatever they want.. you know,” he peers over your shoulder at the kitchen table, eyes gleaming with opportunity. “ella, don’t you think mommy should come with me and you can have a vacation at uncle steve’s house?”
you tut as ella chimes in with a loud, enthusiastic “yes!” banging her fists against the table.
your palm meets his chest, “don’t use my own child against me, asshole,” struggling to stop your lips from curling into a smile. it was working and you hated the fact that you were so easily swayed by him.
“ella has spoken!” he exclaims, taking your hand on his chest into his, “so you’ll come?” cocking his head to the side, much like a tiny, manipulative little dog.
you huff, admitting defeat, “fine.. but only if steve says yes and there’s no guarantee he will,” flicking your eyes back over to ella, who is watching with a massive toothy grin.
it’s times like these that you’re grateful she doesn’t take after her dad.
-
of course steve says yes. useless prick.
“why don’t you wanna go?” his brows furrowed, sipping the overpriced coffee he’d suggested you go get.
“can you imagine me in la? me? really?”
he chuckles, “yeah.. yeah i can actually,” shaking his head. knowing steve, he’d probably been thinking about how he would fit right in there. if you ever did end up moving west, there’s no way in hell that you’d leave him here.
“shut up,” brushing him off, “what if nobody likes me?”
it had been a genuine worry of yours since before eddie had even asked. there’d surely be a thousand eyes on you seeing as you were now very publicly with him. you paled in comparison to his exes. models and singers alike. you were just some frumpy mom who no one had ever heard of.
why would they like you?
“stop it,” steve swats at you, “they’ll love you! i love you so they’ve got no reason not to!”
but you weren’t so sure.
-
so after weeks of fretting about clothes and deliberating over whether you should even go with steve, you jet off to lax.
you’d attempted to pay for your own ticket but eddie hadn’t accepted any of it. told you it was all taken care of and all you had to do was go. much to your disapproval.
there are a few fans at the airport, with no interest in you, obviously. they were so used to him at indianapolis airport now that the paps didn’t even bother.
eddie’s excited babbling about the party keeps you relaxed throughout the flight, focussing on his smile and not the fact that you were thirty thousand feet in the air.
everything starts to feel real when you land and are immediately ushered through the airport, bundled into a car and told to stay put until they got your luggage.
holy shit.
“there’s some dickheads out front.. it’s just so we don’t see them,” eddie soothes, taking your hand into his, resting on his thigh.
“is it always like this?” you ask, curious about this side of his life that you never saw. even more grateful that people in indiana mostly left you alone now.
“sometimes.. but they’re only doing this because of the album.”
you nod, sitting in quiet reflection as people come and go constantly. bustling around the car, muttering things to eddie as they do. it all just seemed so overwhelming, like there was never a moment alone.
eventually, your bags get stuffed into the car and you begin the journey to god knows where, all the while clinging onto eddie’s hand with a iron tight grip.
when you turn into a gated driveway, you sit up. peering out of the window at the glorious garden. his drive was bigger than your entire house, you couldn’t imagine having this much room at your disposal.
his house is big. actually, big is an incredible understatement. it’s breathtaking.
nicer than anything you’ve seen before. you couldn’t even begin to materialise how much he must have spent. you’re not sure you even want to know.
the ceilings loom ten feet tall, walls covered in tasteful but overpriced art. the sofa alone probably cost more than your entire house. christ, it’s the size of your living room as it is.
“jesus christ,” you breathe, still taking in the lavish house, gawping at the tacky statues and the glistening glass chandelier hanging above your head.
“nice, isn’t it?” he states, still wheeling your suitcases behind him, “obviously i didn’t decorate it myself.”
“you’re ridiculous,” you smile, marvelling the rather excessive house, “you don’t need all of this,” gesturing around the room.
“hey,” he pouts, ditching the suitcases to make his away over to you, “this house used to be very useful when..” trailing off as he realises just what he was going to say.
“when what? when you were a whore?” you bite, only half-joking.
“woah,” awkwardly laughing, unsure of whether you were joking or not, “when i had parties,” correcting your presumptions, “but i’m a boring man now.. thanks to you,” his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his body.
your arms return the favour, tilting your chin to match his, “hmm is that right?”
his eyes are no longer on yours, gazing down at your lips with a twinkle of lust, “yup..”
“oh, well maybe i should just go..” but before you can finish, his hands are grabbing your ass, palming at the doughy flesh.
“uh uh,” pressing your heads together, pausing just before he connects your lips, “i’m never letting you leave now,” and with that, he finally kisses you.
skilfully walking you backward through the large foyer, still palming at your ass as he does so. you should’ve known that this was first on the agenda. there weren’t as many opportunities for the two of you to have sex at your house.
his lips hang from yours, leeching onto your bottom lip, palming at your sweater, eager to get it off. “i’ve thought about having you in every single room in this house..” he mumbles into your mouth, making your cheeks burn.
“every.. room?” you speak softly through kisses, bashful at his words.
“mmm,” he grumbles, hand slipping under the soft material of your sweater, brushing over the curve of your waist, “need you.. here,” walking your body back into the marble counter, your lips still barely connected, “in there,” gesturing back towards the grand living room, “everywhere,”
your thighs squeeze together in anticipation of it all. you were flying back home in a week, there was not a chance you’d get through the entirety of this massive house in that short time.
eddie growls into your mouth, hoisting your body onto the countertop in one swift movement, forcing his way between your legs. you can feel his cock already, pressed against your throbbing cunt.
his tongue slides into your mouth, moving against your own with hungry movements. you were too old for this kind of excitement, the ferocity was making your head spin.
his hands are quick, working your sweater off without much interruption, immediately finding your lips again. your hips cant, chasing the needed friction of his cock, eager to strip him from the rough denim.
“someone’s impatient,” a rough laugh echoes from his lips, but he’s obliging. unbuttoning your jeans before patting your thigh to move for him.
you do, letting his cold hands slide your jeans down your thighs, stuck around your ankles as he’s really not concerned with taking them off fully. you’re soaked already, can feel it when the fresh air hits your heat.
eddie’s focused now, his own pants pulled down around his knees, cock jumping in his boxers when your hand reaches out to touch his chest. you liked that. the fact that even now, you could control him with a simple touch.
“jesus baby,” he remarks, two fingers slipping between the crotch of your underwear, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this,” mouth hanging open as he works his way between your soaked folds and into your hole, eliciting a sharp gasp from your mouth.
he’s slow with it, curling his fingers at just the right spot, “oh god,” you whisper, one hand clinging to his forearm, the other holding onto the hard counter.
your eyes flutter shut, head rolling back, granting him access to your untouched neck. he immediately attacks the delicate skin, no doubt leaving his mark like some unruly teenager.
“need you now baby..” he grumbles, removing his hand from between your legs and nudging his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring up, already leaking with pre-cum.
“yeah.. yeah,” muttering into the room, heels attaching around his hips, urging him to speed things up.
his hair brushes against your neck as he gazes down between your bodies, staring in awe at the way they connected, almost losing all composure when his cock nestles between your folds and slides perfectly into your quivering cunt.
pretty pink lips parting to groan when he bottoms out, savouring the feeling for just a moment before his hips take over. his pelvis connects with the backs of your thighs, finding his rhythm, seeking whatever pace made you the loudest.
your quiet squeaks aren’t enough for him, after years of being quiet, you’re not used to having the freedom to be loud.
“c’mon sweetheart,” he pants, hand skirting around your hip, squeezing the flesh, “i wanna hear you,” slipping out of your cunt, refusing to give you what you want without something in return.
your eyes open to eddie, staring right back at you, devilish grin on his lips, “don’t be mean,” you pout, squeezing your legs to pull him forward, huffing in frustration when he keeps back.
his forehead presses against yours, glossy eyed as he gazes into your eyes, “this what you want?” he bites before sinking back in, profanities tumble out of his mouth.
a disgusting whine finds itself at your lips, filling the space between you, drawing his gaze to your wetted lips. “that’s it baby,” thrusts starting to gain speed, his tip bullying your walls.
you can’t help but get louder, keeping your eyes trained on his dilated pupils, moaning with each time his pubic bone brushes against your starved clit. knuckles turning white as you grip onto the counter, chanting his name like some sort of mantra.
“there she is,” he pants, slamming into you with such speed that makes you feel as if you’re flying. it’s filthy how much the wet, pornographic noises your bodies are making spurs you on. only wanting to get louder to match them.
eddie’s thumb meets your neglected clit, circling the bud in line with his thrusts. the pleasure is overwhelming, sending your head into the clouds and your stomach hurtling toward your long-awaited orgasm.
“eddie..” drawing out his name, letting it echo through the decadent kitchen, “fuck,” fingernails leaving behind half-moon markings on his forearm, unsupported by the ruthless motion of his thumb against your clit.
you’re struggling to even stay with it, gasping for breath as your walls tighten around him. sighing as he begins to falter, “you gonna cum princess? huh?” beads of sweat beginning to form on his nose, holding his own orgasm off to allow you yours first.
“yeah.. yeah,” you babble nonsensically, “oh fuck.. oh eddie,” thighs trembling around his hips as you topple over the edge, holding onto the counter for dear life as your orgasm takes over.
body going numb as the fuzzy feeling takes over, watching his lips mouth that’s it and baby’s over and over. trying not to topple over as his cock continues to nudge against your spongy walls, slowing as his own orgasm begins.
“cum in me,” you urge, completely besotted by your own desire for him, “please,” resorting to begging when his eyes squeeze shut, unable to hold himself off any longer.
he grunts, you coax him through it, ankles still resting at the small of his back, unrelenting with their grip as his cock spurts thick ropes of cum, painting your walls. “shit- baby.. i- you-,” he puffs, “what the fuck,” throwing his head back, his messy fringe sticking to his damp forehead.
“sorry..” you mumble, ashamed by the way you turn into a ravenous monster around eddie, wanting to give him your all and nothing else.
“jesus christ don’t apologise,” his hands clamp around your cheeks, pulling your face to his for one final kiss, mumbling a quick i love you before helping you from the counter.
eddie’s in his element here, not that he didn’t make himself at home in your home, but this was his domain.
there’s a strange twinge in your heart, a rogue voice that occasionally makes an appearance, something that made you question whether he was really happy with your little life or if it was just something he was accepting for the time being.
you bury it down, refusing to let it grow into anything more and follow him down the hall, listening to him complain about his back.
-
nothing could’ve prepared you for the party. it couldn’t have been further from how eddie had initially sold it to you.
it’s all bright lights and thousands of people. expensive dresses and unfamiliar faces fill the room, prodding and poking at eddie and subsequently you. wanting to know the ins and outs of everything.
fuck. you think. this is suffocating.
there’s no release, people are fucking everywhere.
even after you gulp down a glass of wine, people whizz around you, echoing fake niceties about your dress or your hair or whatever materialistic bullshit they were pretending to care about.
eddie is a natural of course. he’s been doing this for years. he always had the ability to carry a conversation, to make people listen to him. you weren’t so lucky.
he’s prattling on about some sick riff on the new album now, barely giving you chance to let him know you’re going to the bathroom.
hoping to seek some solace from these vultures. you so wished steve was here. he’d make everything feel better, tell you that it was okay and that these people don’t deserve your time.
but he’s not. he’s a thousand miles away, probably tucked up in bed with ella. somewhere you longed to be.
after a long ten minutes in the cubicle, uttering a chorus of positive affirmations to yourself, you push your way out, right into the crowd of very glamorous women all stood in front of the mirrors. reapplying their makeup or touching up their already stiff hair.
one of the older ladies takes notice of you lingering behind, turning to face you with a smug smile, “you’re eddie’s new thing, aren’t you?”
venom laced between her words, rolling effortlessly off of her sharp tongue. the other women all turn in tandem, all narrowed eyes and faux smiles.
“uh.. i’m his girlfriend,” shaking their glances off, focusing on the stream of running water on your hands and not the prickly feeling at the back of your throat.
“oh! girlfriend!” she titters, barging into one of the other, “usually they don’t make it that far.. what d’you have that the others didn’t?” her icy gaze runs the length of your body.
no doubt judging your dress, the way your mom body sat in the lavish fabric. you don’t blame her. you’d hated it from the moment you first looked in the mirror.
“we..” clearing your throat to avoid your voice cracking, “we used to date.. in high school,” you could feel yourself physically shrinking, reverting back into the same quiet girl you were in school.
“aw sweet,” there’s not even a hint of sincerity in her nasally tone, “well you know, we all thought gigi was gonna be the one,” the other women nod in agreement, “he was just different with her.. everyone thought he was going to propose.. never seen him like that since,” nodding like she’d won a contest you weren’t even competing in.
her words sting, and she knows it. in fact, she relishes it. even though you know she’s only doing it for some sort of reaction, you still let them in. your heart prangs in your chest; now stood frozen in front of the basin.
“you have a kid, don’t you?” she continues, clearly unhappy with your lack of reaction. wanting to stick her claws in just a little deeper.
you nod, biting down hard onto the inside of your cheek. trying to swallow the growing lump in the back of your throat.
her eyes wander down once again, “yeah i thought so.. eddie always said he didn’t want kids,” tutting her shiny white teeth, “i wouldn’t expect him to hang around long, he’s at the peak of his career darling.. no time for high school sweethearts and their kids.”
and that’s it. the final blow. slicing through your chest, churning your guts from the inside out. a stranger had affirmed every single fear and doubt you’d had. crumbling the facade you’d curated for this fucking party.
you don’t even give her the satisfaction of a reply, or perhaps you give her exactly what she wanted, storming out of the bathroom with a trembling bottom lip and watering eyes.
instead of going straight back to eddie, you find a quiet corner, facing the wall as you collect yourself the best you can. your throat hurts, the lump struggling to disappear, tears threatening to spill over as you attempt to remember how to breathe.
eddie is higher than you’ve ever seen him before, relishing in the moment. he’s completely different out here. talking to any and every one, turning the charm on the second someone walks his way.
“eds,” mumbling quietly, tugging on his arm to garner his attention.
you hated him a little for even convincing you to come. why couldn’t he have just sent pictures? no fuck that, why couldn’t he have just stayed here and never forced his way back into your life?
you don’t mean it. you love him.
“hmm?” not quite looking at you.
“i wanna go back.. i don’t feel good.”
this is where he turns, focusing his attention on you, brows furrowing immediately, “what? what’s wrong?”
now, you could tell him. let him know that his friends were assholes and you were either going to burst into tears or run out of this place screaming. but decide to leave it until you’re back at his, there was no use in causing drama on his night.
“i just..” you sigh, dipping your head low so no one else could hear, “i don’t feel good.. maybe i’m sick,” it wasn’t a lie as such. your stomach had been turning all night but you’d brushed it off as anxiety, eager to not ruin the party.
“well-,” he begins but stops, “d’you want me to come with you?” though you can tell he really doesn’t want to. you don’t blame him.
eddie’s always been an extrovert, begging for people to pay attention to him, even if it meant tussling with basketball players or anyone else that dared to question his character. he just wanted people to notice him.
“no no.. i just wanted to let you know,” chewing on your bottom lip, his face becoming increasingly more concerned with every word. you hope he hasn’t noticed your watery eyes, not in the mood to have to explain what had happened right here, right now.
“okay.. we can go, it’s okay,” eddie soothes, picking up that something wasn’t right.
this is what you’d tried to avoid, not wanting to selfishly snatch him away from his event, his friends and his album launch.
“no.. stay here, i’ll be fine, just need to.. rest,” brushing him off, as if you wouldn’t kill to just curl up in his big bed, talking away all of the harsh comments you’d heard.
his expression becomes incredibly soft, despite the crowd surrounding the two you trying to pry, “you sure? i don’t mind..” he frowns, “i’ll come back with you, I don’t want you on your own if you feel that shitty,” already looking past you trying to catch someone’s eye to tell them about the change in plans.
“no!” you push, rather quickly, “please don’t let me be the reason you miss this.. i promise i’ll be fine,” pulling away from his grasp, rushing out of the building with absolutely no plan to get back.
eddie strides along behind, grabbing onto your arm, forcing you to stop and face him, “hey.. stop, i’ll get rob to drive you,” guiding you through the see of people and out into the fresh air at long, long last.
it’s like you can finally breathe again. the stifling heat of a hundred bodies wasn’t helping your anxieties, relief washing over your body the second the november breeze hits your flushed face.
he leans into the same car you arrived in, muttering something to who you assume is rob, motioning for you to come over. you oblige, standing at his side as he repeats what’s happening to you though none of the words compute.
“i won’t be long, okay? a couple hours max and then i’ll be back,” pulling you in for an unreciprocated hug.
he bundles you in to the back of the car, nodding to rob to start the journey.
you’re thankful the conversation is non-existent, leaning your forehead against the window, drawing lines into the condensation on the glass.
you want to go home.
and not eddie’s house.. home.
three days had been more than enough for you to decide this life wasn’t for you.
wiping spaghetti off of ella’s smiley face was. gossiping with steve about people you went to high school with was. los angeles certainly wasn’t.
-
eddie stumbles into the bedroom some hours later, obviously tipsy with a vague stench of booze and people clinging onto his clothes. the smell turns your stomach, peering over your shoulder to see him sliding his suit jacket off, trying to be quiet but failing miserably.
"whoops sorry.. did i wake you?" he asks, slightly slurring his words.
"no, i wasn't asleep," you shift, turning to face him, preparing to break the news.
he slides into the gargantuan bed, running a hand over his face as he comfies himself, "you all okay now?" extending his hand to rest on your waist, smoothing his fingers over the thick duvet.
you exhale, peering up at him through the dimly lit room, "i think i'm gonna go home tomorrow," you’d stewed on it all night and decided it was what’s best.
“what?” his hand stops, sitting up to see you better.
“i’m going back to hawkins tomorrow.”
“why?” he exclaims, unable to comprehend why tonight had gone from a great night to you rushing off home.
“because i miss ella,” you’d umm’d and ahh’d about telling him what had gone down in the bathroom, ultimately deciding not to. he’d only reiterate some bullshit about it not being true and you shouldn’t worry, it wasn’t worth the effort.
“it’s three more days babe.. wha- i don’t understand, where’s this come from?” he’s breathing heavily, focussing on sobering up you suppose.
you sigh again, hesitant to tell him that his friends were assholes and had made you feel like shit. “i just.. i guess i don’t fit in here,” shrugging it off, minimising the niggling thoughts of insecurity that had planted themselves into your brain.
“what are you talking about?” eddie frowns, genuinely perplexed. “did something happen? what are you not telling me about?”
you shake your head, struggling to find the right words, “there was just..” trailing off into the void, “someone said something to me and i’m-,” biting down into your bottom lip, decidedly letting it all out, “i don’t want this life eddie, i never asked for this.. for people to try and pick my life apart! that wasn’t part of the deal!” becoming increasingly frustrated with your boyfriend.
how could he not get it?
“woah.. who said something? i can fix that,” his eyebrows knit together, you’re not sure if he’s angry or just confused. “if you don’t tell me, i can’t do anything.”
“what are you gonna do?” nostrils flaring at his inability to just understand, “what’s said was said.. and i want to go home eddie, that’s the end of it,” running a hand through your hair, still stiff with hairspray and whatever other gunk the stylist had shoved into it.
“jesus christ,” he huffs, sick of the conversation, of trying to get you to stay. “fine. i’ll get someone to change your flight in the morning, can you wait that long?” his snarky voice making an appearance. you hadn’t missed that.
“thank you,” you whisper, unable to get any louder for fear of the lump in your throat.
instead you turn over, squeezing your eyes shut, refusing to let the tears brim over. eddie wouldn’t have understood even if you could tell him, ella wasn’t his kid, those words wouldn’t hurt the same. sure, he’d be pissed and he’d more than likely get her fired but what use was that now?
she’d still uttered the words. still forced her poison into your brain, she’d already got what she wanted.
-
eddie barely musters up two sentences to you in the morning, speaking in hushed tones to the muffled voice on the other side of the phone.
everything’s fucked and it’s your fault. he knows it too.
“flight’s in four hours.. rob’ll take you to the airport at twelve,” he huffs, hanging the phone back on the wall with enough force to make the plastic rattle.
“thank you,” you call after him, watching as he disappears down the long hall. he had just trampled on your already throbbing heart, stomping on the organ as if it didn’t matter.
-
when rob arrives, eddie’s in a more optimistic mood, wheeling your suitcase out of his room with a sullen expression, attempting to sway your mind one last time. “i can always cancel this flight..” opening the large door for you, “you can stay if you want to.”
“eddie..”
and with that, he knows it’s not going to work. blinking rapidly, a deep sigh coming from his chest, “right, got it.”
his hand slams the car door shut, still lingering on the metal as you sit inside. you felt like a petulant child, being sent away because you dared to disobey the rules. it’s all so stupid.
and deep down, eddie knows that ultimately, this is all his fault. he’s the one that skipped town eight years ago, left you without so much as a note to explain himself. as he watches the car roll down the drive, he lets himself wonder what life would’ve been like if he didn’t leave, if you’d even still be together or if this had to happen to bring you two back together. the universe was cruel like that.
-
the airport is bustling, families dithering around trying to find their flights and busy men dashing from one place to the other.
there’s only one thing you need and that’s the bathroom. shoving yourself and your things into a cramped cubicle to do what you needed to do.
and maybe you were being silly, perhaps the stress of last night had got to your head and now you were jumping to crazy conclusions.
but you’d been here before. known the signs, the little things that most people would probably just brush off. so you’d made rob pull into a gas station on your way to the airport and bought a two pack of the cheapest tests you could find.
five minutes feel like five hours. refusing to even peek at the shitty piece of plastic until the time was up.
your heart is thudding, blood pumping around your ears so loudly that you’re sure the lady in the stall next to you could hear it.
hands shaking as you turn the test, two thin blue lines reveal themselves on the tiny screen.
the test clatters to the floor, your mouth falling open as your eyes fog. it wasn’t like you didn’t know, you just didn’t know.
and now you do, everything feels fragile. someone’s cough rings in your ears, the sterile bathroom felt a thousand times smaller than it did five minutes ago.
eddie always said he didn’t want kids.
her voice echoes around your head, just as snarky as it were the first time you heard it. you feel sick. the acidic liquid rises quick, forcing you to spin and stick your head into the porcelain bowl.
emptying your stomach until your throat stings, retching and coughing, trying not to start sobbing.
eddie always said he didn’t want kids.
you can’t tell him, not yet anyway.
fuck.
a thousand thoughts flood your mind. were you even still together? he was on this press tour for weeks now. you can’t tell him over the phone. maybe you had broken up and you wouldn’t ever have to let him now. he would just have an illegitimate child in his hometown that he’d never know about.
nothing felt right. the high you’d been riding from the first two days with him had quite violently come crashing back to earth.
the only thing you want to do is tell steve.
he probably wouldn’t know what to do nor would he be very much help, you just needed to know that everything was going to be okay.
-
it’s the first thing you say as you slide into steve’s bmw, blurting out the news like it wasn’t potentially life changing.
as expected, his jaw drops, blabbering about babies at a hundred miles an hour. excited and amazed all at the same time.
“- i haven’t told him yet,” you manage to spit out in the middle of his nonsensical ranting.
“what?”
“i didn’t even know until i got to the airport,” you sniff, staring at the drops of rain on his windscreen rather than his eyes. “he’s on this press tour for weeks now.. i can’t tell him over the phone.”
“well shit,” steve’s shoulder slump, empathising with your less than ideal situation, “you have to,” he blinks, focusing on the road ahead.
“steve.. i don’t think you understand,” swallowing the air, unsure if the car was the best place to tell him about your little argument. “shit happened, it’s not.. it’s not that easy.”
he frowns, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel as he drives, “well,” voice louder than expected, “we’ll think of something, trust me.”
your body relaxes for the first time in hours. if no one else had you, you know steve did.
-
there are paps fucking everywhere, littering the sidewalk as steve pulls into your drive, the bright lights already blinding you.
“what the fuck?” steve screeches, turning to face you in the driver's seat. They aren’t dumb, they know that if they step on your property, you are well within your rights to escort them off. so they hang back, inching towards the car but staying far enough away to not allow you to get them off.
“i don’t know.. i don’t know,” shaking your head, you were baffled how they had even found out you were home. you’d known they were scummy but christ, not this scummy.
“just get inside and I’ll bring your stuff in,” steve nods reassuringly, stepping out of the car ready to punch whoever got in his way.
you exhale, preparing for the onslaught of questions and pictures. the key poised in your hand to get you inside as quickly as humanly possible. word must have got out that your trip had ended abruptly, that or someone had seen you sulking around the airport like the sad sack you were.
your feet stumble along the asphalt, holding your hand to your face as to guard your eyes from the flashes. hundreds of questions echo in your ears, what happened between you and eddie munson? have you broken up? did he cheat again?
it’s god awful. gritty voices screaming across the lawn at you. steve has your suitcase rolling behind him, jaw clenched as he guides you to the door.
“you’re harassing a pregnant woman you fucking scumbags! go fuck yourselves!” he unleashes over his shoulder, flapping his arms about.
your mouth falls open, pulling him through the door and into your hall. the one thing you had not wanted him to let slip and he had just blurted it out to the crowd of hungry vultures.
it’d be the first thing on the front page tomorrow and yet you still hadn’t told eddie. at least now you didn’t have to.
he knows he wasn’t supposed to say it too, hand slapped across his mouth, inundated with shock and regret. “i’m so sorry, i’m so fucking sorry,” he rushes, eyes like saucers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, “i’m an idiot.. fuck! i’m sorry,” you cheek smushed against his chest.
the familiar feeling opens the floodgates, tears stream down your cheeks, wetting his t-shirt as your shoulders shake. wailing hysterically into his beating chest. he wasn’t quite expecting this, more so a few hours of the silent treatment.
“oh no.. i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to,” steve whispers into the air, his chin coming to rest atop of your head, squeezing your fragile frame in his arms.
“it’s not-,” rudely interrupted by a rogue hiccup, “shit.. it’s not you-,” hiccup, “oh my god,” you exclaim, tears turning into laughter at an unprecedented rate.
steve loosens his grip, confused as all hell at the mess you’d become against him. “jesus christ, are you okay?” holding your shoulders at arms length to examine the snotty, hiccupy mess in front of him.
“no,” you laugh, completely hysterical.
he guides you to the couch, making your movements for you, plonking down on the cushions in a flurry of emotion.
there you tell him everything. the party, the bitch with the sharp jawline in the bathroom and her nasty words, the aftermath and then all about your panic attack in a tiny lax bathroom.
it’s cathartic, knowing he won’t judge or diminish the way you feel. steve just listens, his hand rubbing small strokes on your knee every time you got to a juicy part.
how the hell were you ever going to tell eddie now?
-
there’s a knock at your door, mindlessly going to answer it without thinking much of the mad crowd of people that were out there just a few days ago. steve had gratefully been staying with you, helping with ella while also trying to hatch a plan to tell eddie without ruining everything.
it only occurs to you that it very well could be another nosy reporter as the door is already unlocked and slightly ajar.
you peep around the tiny crack, prepared to be bombarded with a bunch of questions and bright lights.
there’s none of that.
only the pitying image of one eddie munson stood on your doorstep with his shoulders slumped, black ray-ban’s hanging from his shirt and an inconceivable look upon his face.
“what the fuck?” he utters, barely audible. he looks exhausted, dark rings around his eyes with the body language to match. his hair in dark matter tangles hung around his face.
your mouth opens but the words fail to materialise, utterly speechless. there’s nothing you could possibly say now that would lessen the blow. and bless his soul, steve had fucked it.
no.
you had fucked it by running off back home without telling him the seemingly very important news.
“were you ever gonna tell me?” eyebrows screwed together, eyes glossy with what looked like tears.
“i.. i- yes, i was.. i didn’t.. i didn’t know,” pleading with him with your eyes, hoping they could tell him exactly what your words couldn’t. your lip trembles, as much as this had played on your mind since steve had let slip, the two of you still hadn’t come up with an acceptable explanation.
deep down you know really why you still hadn’t called him. you were scared, terrified even, that he’d laugh at you. tell you to fuck off, or get rid of it and to never contact him again. that wouldn’t surprise anyone, he was at the top of his career and definitely wouldn’t want to jack that in for his boring high school ex-girlfriend.
that’s what you’d told yourself anyway.
“when? when it was born?” his words are sharp, reaffirming every single fear you had conjured up in your brain.
you inhale sharply, the lump making it up and out of your throat before you had the chance to swallow it down. tears spill down your warm cheeks, the most ghastly cry coming from your mouth.
you must look utterly pathetic as eddie’s face softens almost immediately, springing from your doorstep and over the threshold to caress your cheek, mopping the tears with his thumb. “sorry.. i’m sorry fuck- i just wish you’d told me,” leaning forward to keep his eyes solidly on yours, any anger had dissipated from his face.
“i was scared, i’m sorry.. I didn’t know what to do,” burying your face into his shoulder, already wetting the shirt with your tears. shoulders shaking as you sob. “i swear.. i didn’t know until i got to the airport, i really- i just needed a few days..” howling into his steady shoulder.
he walks the both of you inside into your hallway, pushing the door shut before his other hand tangled into your hair, soothing out the wild strands. “i know.. it’s okay,” reassuring you even though you really didn’t deserve it.
“and that lady.. i don’t know, she got into my head,” sniffling, appreciating the familiarity of his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes he always seemed to have.
his body stiffens, pulling your body from the safety of his, “what lady? is this about the party? fuck sake man, no one would tell me anything,” he’s serious now, frustration overcoming his features once more, although this time they weren’t directed towards you.
you sigh, using your palm to wipe your stinging cheeks, “it doesn’t matter.. and it’s fine, you know? i get it.. why someone like you wouldn’t want kids. i’ve come to terms with it,” nodding through your lines, despite the fact that you couldn’t have believed them less.
“what? what the hell are you talking about?” flabbergasted that you’d even suggest that.
your face falls, once stoic and ready to face being a single mom again. “that lady.. she said..” shaking your head, “you didn’t want kids,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill over again.
“oh my god,” it clicks for him, and you wish it would for you too. “that’s.. fuck- i did say that but it was a long time ago now,” his fingers dig into your arms, ensuring that he really hammers his point home, “of course i do.. shit sweetheart, of course i do,” the flecks of caramel in his eyes shine through ten-fold when he’s staring at you, glossed over with the remnants of his tears.
your mouth opens, moving though nothing comes out, hopeless as the words fail to form.
“you’re an idiot,” eddie laughs lovingly, pulling you back towards him, encasing your face in his rough palms, the cold of his rings soothes your tear laden cheeks. “why didn’t you tell me? or just ask me?”
you giggle a bit, shrugging your shoulders, “i don’t know.. i didn’t think,” nothing made sense and yet, you felt better than you had in weeks.
eddie’s here, in front of you, happy, grinning from ear to ear as he remembers why he’s even stood in your dark corridor, “baby.. we’re having a baby,” squishing your cheeks between his hands.
his joy is palpable, brushing off on you despite your leaking eyes. he still looks at you like that, even though you’d scarped off, even after you had let the world know you were pregnant before him. it was like the stars shon in your eyes, as if the very key to living was buried somewhere within your soul and he just had to be the first to grasp it.
your heart is bursting, a weeks worth of sleepless nights and fretting over destroying your relationship had come to this. to holding each other in the dim light, both terrified for what was to come.
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Note
HELLO BEAUTIFUL!!!
Tis’ I, again. 🤭🤭🤭
Imagine Firefighter!Bucky comes home after a long day and just wanted to get some rest, but you chastise him for forgetting to buy milk.
And he slightly gets rough and pushes you against the wall, before saying a few things that make your knees buckle. Then he picks you up and then proceed to lay you on the bed, but before he continues further.
He unbuckles his belt and garbs your wrists. Using the belt, he ties your delicate wrists to the headboard🤭🤭🤭
Alright that’s it!!!
See ya babes 🫶🏽🫶🏽
Sorry this was sooo long in my drafts. Like the other requests too… and the frat boy Bucky request I wrote it a bit different and it’s called “Distance isn’t the solution”. And since this was so long in my requests I thought I will turn it into a Drabble now.
Milk | B.B
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Your boyfriend comes home after a hard shift, but he forget the milk. Luckily he has a perfect replacement for it.
Pairing -> Firefighter!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Wordcount -> 566 Words
Warnings -> Minors DNI, 18+, Firefighter!Bucky, mention of sex, mention of cum, hands being tied with a belt
Authors Note -> This is for @lanabuckybarnes, because you’re such a good girl, BBG.😏😂
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky comes home from work, exhausted from it — the shift wasn’t too nice today and he just wants to rest, but unfortunately he forgot something.
“Bucky… you wanted to bring milk,” you say, standing in the door and watching your boyfriend, who just sat down on the couch, groaning as you tell him. “Don’t groan! I told you we needed some milk and you said you would buy it after work.”
He turns his head, his ocean blue eyes darken slightly and you know you shouldn’t complain right now. Grumpy Bucky isn’t someone to joke with, but you’re too deep in your own anger to even notice his grumpy hum and the way his fists clench.
“‘m sorry, oke? I will get some tomorrow,” he mumbles, leaning back. He sees you shaking your head, before taking another step closer to him.
“Good. Then tell me, what else do we have for dinner? Because of what I had planned, we need milk!” You say, your eyes rolling as he groans once again. “Yeah, groaning still works, great!”
As you say that, something snaps inside of Bucky and he immediately gets up, needing one step to be in front of you. His big hands find their place at your waist as he presses you against the wall. You inhale deeply, hands flying to his neck to find some hold while he smirks at you.
“Guess you need a reminder who is in charge here and that you shouldn’t talk to me like that, babydoll,” he almost moans into your ear, causing your legs to tremble. “Look at ya, it only needs those few words for you to get on your knees for me?”
You whimper, your fingers digging into his back. “B-Bucky, please,” you whine, arching your back to press yourself more against your boyfriend. You can feel his big bulge in his pants.
“How about that…” he says, letting go of your waist. With a smooth move, he unbuckles his belt and holds it in his hands. He then grasps your hands, tying them together with his belt. Now he can effortlessly push them above your head against the wall. “I make it up to you for forgetting the milk, and then you’re going to get your milk.”
“A-are you going shopping t-then?” You ask, staring into his eyes, lower to his lips as his tongue pokes out and wets his lips. Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. He moves his head closer to your ear, his warm breath on your soft skin causing you to shiver.
“Mhm, no, babydoll. You know I have some you love so much. You know, you just need to work for it a bit, and then you have what you want. How does it sound?” Food long forgotten you nod. Bucky grins, kissing your earlobe down to your neck before picking you up to carry you into your shared bedroom.
He knows that you didn’t mean to act like you did, just as he didn’t want to sound so annoyed. You both know that you only got into that discussion because you both had an emotionally exhausting day — but luckily Bucky knows exactly how to calm the two of you down. And later, you’re going to get some pizza and enjoy the rest of the evening in front of the television, cuddled up before he will love and fuck you all night.
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Likes are nice, but please comment and reblog, it’s way more appreciated and loved!
//Taglist// @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @im-alestan @holylulusworld @iris-xoxo-juhu @fanfictionreaderfan
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chrisbesitos · 4 days
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i dont usually do requests but i really want this
Ballerina!reader gets high at a party during the offseason (still not a great idea on the offseason bc it can affect your performance when you go back) without drugdealer!chris knowing, and she ends up coming home to him high asf
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⠀⠀⠀⠀ballerina!reader getting high without dealer!chris
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱
You're not a big fan of parties, but that doesn't mean that you don't like to hang out with your friends. Well, it's not a real party, you're just drinking at your best friend's house after a hard exam in college. You decided to have fun and relax after this stressful afternoon. You're already a bit drunk, laughing at everything and speaking loudly, you don't do that shit while you sober, because your fucking shyness always hit harder.
Your friend came from her room with a lit joint between her fingers, you usually smoke sometimes at parties, but never when you have to keep your mind focused on ballet, but now you're off-season, so that's okay, right?
She offered you her joint, you grabbed it with your fingers and then Chris' image showed up in your mind. You shouldn't be smoking without him, but it didn't stop you from putting the joint between your lips and inhaling. After this, you didn't stop. You shared the joint with your friend on her couch, slowly your mind getting relaxed and so your body, giggling like crazy because your friend stumbled over the coffee table.
After reaching for your phone in your pocket, you realized it's almost midnight. You asked for your friend to drive you home, better than getting an uber in a drunk and high state. You could call Chris, but you didn't want to disturb him. So, your friend drove you to your home, you thanked him and stumbled until the door.
"Shit." You mumbled, trying to put the key in the lock unsuccessfully. You sigh frustrated and rest your forehead on the wood of the door, you tried again and this time the key entered the lock.
You unlocked the door, after walking in, you tugged your boots out and threw your purse on the sideboard. Your lips leaned into a small grin as you saw Chris' hoodie on the couch, you threw yourself on the couch and grabbed his cloth, bringing to your nose to smell his scent.
"Doll, you're home?" Chris asked, he walked downstairs with his hair wet and a towel around his neck. His naked torso filled with water drops, he was getting out of the shower, you could smell the aroma of soap and perfume. "What are you doin' smelling ma' hoodie like a perv?" He giggled.
"I like your scent." You said smiling. You threw his hoodie aside and lifted your body from the couch, walking in his direction with your arms open, ready for a hug. Chris leaned himself to hold you by the waist, you rested your head on his shoulder as he kissed your jaw. "You're smelling so good, baby. You should've waited for me to have a shower, I wanted to join you."
"How talkative are you tonight, what happened?" Chris said, normally you just climb on him without saying anything when you get home. He carried you to the couch, sitting with you on his lap. "Look at me, doll. I'm talkin' with you." You chuckled as you lifted your head, Chris frowned his eyebrows noticing now your smell and your red eyes. "Have you been smoking, doll?"
"Just a little bit." You showed with your fingers, giggling like he has told the funniest joke ever. "You know, I had an exam today and it was sooo hard, so me and my friends came to lena's house to have fun."
"You mean to get high without me? Damn, you're smelling weed, I don't know how I didn't notice at first." He groaned, he really hates when you get high without him around. "You know this can affect ya' dance, doll."
"I'm off-season, Chris!" You rolled your eyes, Chris gave you a look to not talk with him like this. "I'm okay, don't you see?"
"Why didn't you call me?" He asked, now caressing your waist looking at you with his eyes filled with concern. He's not trying to control you, he just doesn't want you being alone in a high state.
"Because I didn't want to disturb you, duh." You said, embracing his neck with your arms and touching his nose with yours. Chris rolled his eyes, knowing how clingy you are when you're high and drunk, because he can't smell not only the weed in your clothes but the alcohol too. "Baby, I'm starving! Can you order something, pretty please?" You asked looking at him with your doe eyes, flickering your eyelashes at him.
"You're lucky you're too cute to be mad." Chris said, touching your nose. You giggled and gave him a peck on his lips. "Let's go, I'm gonna help ya' in the shower and order something."
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tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo
taglist | masterlist
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luvleyk · 2 months
Text
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Birthday Sex
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| CW: oral, fingering, her playing with icing, praising, pet names, just pure fluff... And smut hehe
| A/N: kind of late, but belated happy birthday to that person who requested this fic.. I hope you enjoy your day and indulge this fic mwamwa.. And sorry if this is kinda short🤧
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
You were woken up by the rays of sunshine, hitting you through the window. You blocked it by you hand as you slowly got up from bed, stretching yourself looking around, noticing that your girlfriend wasn't there by your side.. Where is she..? You thought as you move yourself to the edge of the bed, wearing your comfy slippers.
You get up as you look through the window, feeling like everything will go out on your way. Your gut says so, of course. A hum escape from your lips as you go out to find your tall girlfriend. Catching her making breakfast for the two of you. Her back, facing you as she's focused on cooking. You, on the other, has the urge to jump behind her and hug her, so you did what your mind tells you to.
"Good morning" you hummed as you rest your chin on her back, looking up to her as she looked over her shoulder, smiling sweetly at your bubbly personality. "Good morning too, love" she replied back as she stopped from what she was doing, turning around to face you. "How's your sleep?" She asked, even tho she already knew that you had a good sleep, you snoring beside her, having a wonderful dream, that she won't even know what.
"It's good.. Like so good this time.." You said while smiling as you wrap your arms around her waist. She chuckles as she ruffles your hair..
"How so?"
"Like... It's sooo cozy last night, and we slept together.. Very comfortable" you replied, nuzzling your face on her chest.. "Maybe because it's your day, today?" She asked in a playful manner. You tilt your head up, looking at her.. "What do you mean?" She raised her eyebrow at your question. Don't tell her, that you've forgotten your special day?
"Seriously? You've forgotten it?" She asked.
Panic rushed through you. "Is it our anniversary today?! Oh no... I'm sorry I didn't— ow!" You exclaimed as she flicked you on the forehead. "What was that for?" You asked as you rub your forehead, using your fingers...
"Our anniversary was a month away..." She said, removing your hand from your forehead.. "It's your birthday, silly." She added.
"Oh—" you paused, remembering that it's your special day today. Bada sighed as she nuzzled against your head, inhaling your yesterday's scent. "You keep forgetting it..." She murmured, planting a kiss on your head, before she pulled away. "I'll buy you a cake, later... For now, have some breakfast" she added, which you nodded.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
Bada told you to stay in your shared bedroom for a bit since she has a 'surprise' that she wants to show you. You're eager to see what it is but she told. "Wait for bit, like a good girl, yeah?" You nodded as a response so now you're there, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting.
Even tho you're growing impatient, you also don't want to upset her.
You looked at the door when you heard it open, revealing her tall figure entering, holding a strawberry cake. A sweet smile formed your lips as you watches her approaches you... "Should I sing the happy birthday song? Or just straight up letting you eat the cake and shows you my surprise?" She asked while chuckling.
"What if... The surprise, first?" You suggest and you saw a smirk curled up on her lips... "Oh you're eager" she teased as she puts the cake down on the bedside table, before sitting next to you... You noticed how close she is which made you flustered. She noticed it as she let out a low chuckle before she pulled you closer.. "The gift or surprise is... A physical gift... If you get what I mean" of course you don't know what she meant... But your mind filled with so many thoughts, you're too focused on the closed gap between the two of you..
You tensed up when you felt her leaned forward, her breath against your neck... "If you're clueless, I can demonstrate?" She whispered.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
You felt your body screaming, because of embarrassment... You're currently layed down on the bed, naked, your wrists were both tied up above your head, using a ribbon. Her sitting in front of you. The cake was all ruined.. The icing was on her left hand, gently spreading it on your body, from your nipples, your stomach, to your pussy.
She looks down at you, admiring your body like an actual masterpiece that she put a lot of effort to make.. "Oh I thank the universe that someone as beautiful as you existed.." She hummed, causing your cheeks to turned red. God why is she like this to you...? She starts to peppering you kisses on your forehead, all the way to your collarbone.
You shuddered you feel her tongue trailing up to your already hardened nipples, savoring your taste and the icing. You whined as she suck your bud before licking it, sending waves of pleasure right through your core. "B.. Bada... Touch me down there too.. Please.." You plead, which she hums in response..
"Yes, princess... Don't worry... I'm not gonna let the birthday girl to wait.." She whispered as her tongue slowly went down to your stomach, planting some lovely kisses before licking the icing away and going her way down to your thighs, leaving a few kisses while her gaze was focused on you. That lustful gaze that she had, it made you squirm so desperate for her... "Mhnn... Fuck you taste so damn good" she moaned out quietly as she continues to lap out your juices, greedily tasting it, like there's no tomorrow...
Your hand slowly grip on her hair, as if desperately pulling her closer.. "Fuck, Y/N.. My princess's so eager.." She cursed as she spreads your legs, her body shifts into a comfortable position her fingers slowly rub your entrance before pushing her two digits in.. You mind went blank, feeling lightheaded, as your left foot resting on her back, toes curling..
She began to thrust her fingers inside, as your body trembled.. "B.. Bada...!" You moaned loudly, as her chuckle sent vibration through your clit as she suck it like a lollipop.. "God... Look at you... So sensitive already.. So beautiful..." She said in a teasing manner..
Her free hand rest on your left chest, playing with your nipple, continuing her assault on your pussy. Her eyes never left your face, the way your fist covered your mouth to muffle out any gasps and moans, restraining yourself to get any louder, is fueling her desire..
Both of your hand gripping on her hair tightly, as if your life depends on it.. Her fingers went deeper inside, rubbing your gummy walls with a slight pressure.. You know you're gonna come very soon and she's not helping because of the way her tongue presses against your clit, before licking and sucking it again as her fingers thrusting inside you, in a fast pace... "I... I'm close.." You cried out. She took it as a initiative to go faster... Adding a third digit and feels you tightens around her as she continues her work on you.
You arched your back as you choked out a cry of pleasure, as your orgasm coursed through you. After a while, you started to limp as your grip on her hair, loosened. Still muffling a weak moan, feeling her finger slowly thrusting inside you and her tongue on your sensitive bud, riding out your orgasm before pulling her fingers, as her lips trails up to your stomach, peppering soft and gentle kisses to soothe you.. She slowly rest her head against it as her gaze went up too look at you, seeing you feeling light headed, breathing heavily, and looking back at her, full of affection in your eyes..
"Hmm.. Happy birthday, love"
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luffysscraps · 1 year
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Throat choke;🔞;Drabble;Ft; Monkey D. Luffy
Cw;NSFW;Fem reader;Spit kink;Choking;Gross Luffy;Sloppy sex
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“Mo~More~! D-deeper~ open wider~!” Luffy requested so much from you when he knew you had your throat filled with his cock. Your head hung over the bedside while his hips were leveled with your head. His hips would snap and thrust into your mouth at a very quick pace, choking you every time his length reached the back of your throat. His balls would slap against your face with every thrust, giving your skin a colored mark in the shape of his testicles and whiff of his musk.
Tears flowed down your face from you gagging on his cock. His hands gripped the sides of your face to hold you steady like you were nothing but his toy. “S-soo~ good~! Aha~ ahh~!” God He’s so loud, if the bed rocking didn’t give it away his moans and groans sure will. You felt his drool fly from out of his mouth and onto your breasts coating it in his slime. From the side of your face all the way to your stomach was covered in hickies and love bites. The male had devoured you earlier and now it was your turn to be his little toy.
You felt him in your skull, he was fucking your brains out with every single thrust. He would go in fast spurts, fucking you into oblivion before he stops, holds your head firmly on his balls while his whole dick is inside of your mouth. He stopped briefly to pant and catch his breath, unintentionally choking you with his dick. The skin of his balls sticking to your nostrils, not allowing you to breath and suffocating you silently. Your eye’s sclera turn red from the lack of oxygen, your eyes roll to the back of your head as you tug on his thigh, desperately trying to get his attention so you can breath again.
“Whoops, sorry-“ Is all he says as he pulls his length out of your mouth. You cough and gag, tears streaming down your face and you feel a bit light headed. It was an honest mistake! You should really tell him when you can’t breath!
Anyways, he’s back on it in seconds. Recovering his stamina faster then you can your need to breath. Right after apologizing for choking you, he’s right back at it. Shoving his dick down your throat, his dick stretching the skin around your throat causing a bulge to show in your throat. You whine and moan sending vibrations up his cock that only seem to motivate him more in chasing his orgasm. “Sooo~ Good~ Hahaha~! Y/N~! Your mouth is so tight! Gonna empty my balls down your throat~!” Luffy cries out, he’s rambling almost like a mad man as he fucks your throat. Spitting a bit when he speaks, causing it to splash on your face and chest.
Your eyes roll back as his speed somehow increases, you didn’t think he could get any faster but he does. His size hits the back of your throat with strength and speed, so hard and so rapidly your throat would be sore in the morning. Your mouth making naughty sounds from the gargling and gagging on his dick. His moans and skin slapping mixing with the noises causing the room to sound like nothing less then a porn shoot.
Luffy throws his head back and slams his length down your throat one last time. “Ugh-UGHA~! C-Cumming~!” He speaks babbles as his loads shoots to the back of your throat, only stopped from going down it by the latex condom around his length. He squirms and jolts as his seed keeps flowing, his dick twitching and throbbing with every shot, shooting his sticky cum down your throat. You feel the condom filling inside of your throat, a bag of cum now lodged in your gullet.
Once he was finished, he pulled out panting, the weight of his cum causing the condom to shimmy off of him a bit. The ball of cum still stuck in your throat as he’s panting besides you. “Hah…ha…” He pants out above you, sweat grazing his abs as he can only think about the blissful Ecstasy he had just moments ago. Your face turns red as you gag and inhale on the ball of cum stuck in your throat.
You try to force it out with a couple of hard blows but you were too weak and tired from being fucked out. It’s only when Luffy feels your weak fingers tapping on his thighs and your hics and coughs does he notice the condom’s end is still in your throat. He’s about to pull it out to help you but he only watches as finally one of your gags kicked the latex bag out of your throat. The cum bag covered in your spit sat and rolled down your face as you were panting trying to recover your breath.
He stared at you with wide eyes. His dick instantly hard again from the gross and sexy sight of you. His face filled with red, he knows it’s a long shot because you look half conscious at this point but…
“One more.” He begs like he did the last time and before you know it your throat is clogged with his cock once again.
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smoshyourheadin · 4 months
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some comfort soencer agnew :(
It’s okay, you can cry now.
pairing: spencer agnew x fem!reader
a/n: OH WE’RE SO BACK SMOSHYOURHEADIN NATION!! i’ve missed y’all sooo much!!! kinda short but enjoy none the less 🫶 requests are open <3
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as you lay on his bed, the sound of raindrops tap against the windows gently as you feel a tear roll down your cheek. his room is softly lit by the glow of the tv which is playing some shitty reality show, with plush blankets and pillows on his bed.
spencer and you met when your friend damien had invited you to be a guest speaker at his ‘funeral’ - where spencer made your sides hurt with how funny he was. from the moment you met him, there was an undeniable chemistry between you. over time, you and spencer started hanging out more, texting and calling, meeting up for coffee before he had to go to work, and you’d also started to convince damien to invite on the channel more often, as an excuse to see him - ian and anthony eventually hiring you to work on art and design.
despite the growing closeness, neither of you ever explicitly acknowledged the romantic tension that occasionally surfaced. your friendship had a mix of intimacy and comfort that neither of you wanted to jeopardize by labeling it. you were each other's confidants, sharing dreams, fears, and everything inbetween.
“hey there, y’okay?” spencer’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, as he walks into his room with two cans of sprite, seeing you blink away tears.
“um, yeah. no. i don’t know” you sit up and wipe your face, sniffling gently, and you cross your legs as he sits to face you on the end of his bed, your knees touching his.
“d’you wanna talk about anything?” he looks into your eyes, gaze soft but firm somehow.
“um,” you look away as you feel more tears forming, a lump creeping into your throat “i just... feel like i'm constantly running, trying to keep up with everything. the videos, the comments, the expectations. it's like... it's never enough, you know?"
spencer nods, his hand moving to rest atop yours. "i get it. this world can be overwhelming. but you don't have to face it alone. we're a team, remember?"
you squeeze his hand, finding a bit of strength in his touch. "i know, it's just... sometimes i feel like i'm letting everyone down. like i'm not good enough."
his eyes soften even more, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in a good way.
"you're more than enough. you bring so much joy and creativity to everything you do. and it's okay to feel overwhelmed. it doesn't mean you're failing."
you take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words. "i guess i just need to hear that sometimes. that it's okay to not be perfect."
spencer shifts closer, his other hand cupping your cheek, thumb gently brushing away a stray tear. "no one expects you to be perfect. especially not me. i just want you to be you. because that's more than enough."
his words break something loose inside you, and the tears start to flow freely. spencer pulls you into a gentle hug, holding you as you let out all the pent-up emotions. his embrace is warm and reassuring, a safe haven from the storm raging inside you. you inhale deeply, and notice he smells like old books and coffee,
“it’s okay, you can cry now” he says into you hair as you sob, his fingers gently brushing through you hair
after a while, you pull back slightly, looking up at him with gratitude. "thank you, spencer. for being here, for understanding."
he smiles, a small, comforting smile. "always. you mean a lot to me, y’know that?"
you nod, a small smile of your own forming. "you mean a lot to me too, spence."
he takes a deep breath, and for a moment, you see something flicker in his eyes.
you move yourself next to him, and lay your head on his shoulder, and he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, as you close your eyes, feeling content in the moment. the sound of the rain, the flickering light of the tv, and the steady beat of his heart lull you into a sense of calm.
and in that quiet moment, with the rain still pattering against the windows, you know that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together.
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sacrificialspice · 3 months
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Helloo!! I don't know if you take request, if you don't no need to answer this one, but if you do, what do you think sukuna would do/react to cat reader being in heat? Like reader clinging to him type of way
Hiii! I’m always happy to consider requests, I don’t really have a strict purpose for this blog, just have wanted to write for my fantasies occasionally. Clingy reader would be sooo cute!
This will be 18+, fem!reader, catgirl!reader
What Sukuna is like when his Kitty is in Heat
Contains: Hybrid reader, Master and pet dynamic, pet names, heat cycle talk, slight teasing, mentions of sex, mention of potential future pregnancy, mention of fertility, kinda fluffy, reader is actin’ shy, scent kink, pussy inspection, fingering kinda, oral kinda.
This ended up being a bit longer than I thought, my one braincell was in a good mood today. This post is sponsored by late night Bob’s Burgers binges.
Sukuna would recognize the signs coming before even you do. A sweeter scent, the way blood rushes to your cheeks slightly faster when you greet him, and of course, the stickiness you leave on his lap.
You’ve been clinging to him more recently, and pretend to not know why. You know you will be at his mercy the moment that he calls you out on being in heat. Yet, you can’t resist him. Claiming your territory on his lap whenever he sits and running your hands up and down his muscles. (“Aw, can’t get enough of your Master? Clingy fucking little cat. Good thing you’re cute.”). You sniff his worn kimono when he has to leave the lair. After one particularly long inhale, you get embarrassed and cross your legs together as you feel yourself growing aroused. (“I’m not gonna last much longer without him…” you think to yourself.).
(“I-I don’t think it’s time yet, Master, usually my heats aren’t this close together-“) Sukuna would click his tongue, a small scold towards your attempt to hide from him. (“Really? Prove it to me, kitten. But we both know your Master is always right, hm?”).
Sukuna would gently lay you down on your back on his soft futon, which has an extra protective layer of a black silk sheet since he knows how messy you are. He then roughly grasps your ankles, lifting your legs and spreading them apart in one motion. You hold your breath as he takes one hand and slides his fingers up and down your folds, and he smirks at the squelch produced.
(“See pet? You’re so desperate and needy for me. Don’t deny it. I won’t deny you. We are both going to enjoy this thoroughly, I assure you.”) The crazed smile he flashes at you while spreading his fingers apart, strings of wetness bridging them, scares you and drives you wild. (“Fucking sweetest little peach,” he moans while sucking your melted sugar off his own fingers.).
He would shove his fingers deep down your throat after that, wanting you to taste yourself. (“See? Master was right. You cannot deny that your body craves me. ME. Little sex kitten.”)
It was impossible to deny any further, your body is basically a preheated oven for him.
Sukuna loves your heat because it is your peak fertility, so it’s his time to be hard at work with you. You become his top priority during these periods of time. He will drop anything he is doing just to come to you. You don’t leave his chambers until he is satisfied, and in turn, you as well. Don’t worry, he will bathe you and Uraume delivers food throughout the day and night.
When he feels that your heat cycle is coming, he holds off on ejaculating so that he can indulge in marathon sex with you. (“Be grateful, kitten. Master saved all his superior seed for this moment.”)
One question does remain though… will you and Sukuna have kittens after this?
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tomssexdoll · 4 months
Note
what’s up babygirl how you doing?
Sooo here’s my request Tom is reader’s boyfriend and you know he’s smoking but he won’t allow reader to smoke not like the master way but like the caring boyfriend way and she wants to try cigarette so once she steal one from Tom’s pack on his bedside table and smokes it and Tom catches her and it’s on you how it will end
that’s all ily byeeee
HEYYYY BBG IM GOOD HRU
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My boyfriend Tom is a smoker, yet he doesn't allow me to do it?
I was always confused by it, howcome he could destroy his lungs but not me? I eventually figured it out to him caring for me, he wanted me to take care of myself and not pick up bad habits like him.
One day I was curious, wanting to try a cigarette, I knew he kept his cigarettes in the draw, not hiding it from me because he knew I didn't smoke. He was busy in the backyard, installing the new grill he bought.
I ran over to the draw, grabbing a cigarette out of the pack and a spare lighter he stashed in the pack. I looked at it, observing the small orange bit at the butt, the long white bit where all the tobacco was.
I lit it, holding it to my lips and sucking in, because i've never smoked, when I inhaled I immediately started coughing, my throat raw and chest slightly burning.
"Fuck..how does he smoke these" I sighed, grabbing some water and chugging it before going back to smoke it, getting used to the burning feeling at the back of my throat.
I eventually got down 3/4, my throat sore and head fuzzy. I wasn't used to the nicotine, it hit me like a truck, the headspin kind of intense. I didn't notice the heavy footsteps coming down the hall and Tom emerging into the room, seeing me at the window, smoking a cigarette.
"Oh Y/N! No!" Tom called out, rushing over to me and snatching the cigarette from me, I was stunned, looking up at Tom, his expression softening as he saw my eyes.
"Baby..I've told you not to do this, you know how bad these are for you?" he put a hand on my shoulder, stomping on the cigarette and throwing it out the window, "I heard coughing and decided to see if you were ok, why are you doing this?" he sighed.
I looked down, ashamed for what I'd done, "I just wanted to try it..you do it all the time" my lip slightly quivered, I hated confrontation. He kept on scolding me, "you never listen" he sighed "I should've known you'd do something like this" grunting slightly, his tone getting more angry.
I started to softly cry, tears streaming down my cheeks, "I'm sorry..i thought if you could do it why can't I.." wiping my tears quickly. "Oh baby..no no don't cry" he pulled me into his chest, holding me close, "I didn't mean to get mad..fuck..you know I love you, that's why I'm upset schatzi" he caressed my head, running his fingers through my hair.
"I'm sorry.." I repeated, my tears coating his white shirt, "no baby it's ok..cmon, sit with me" he held my hand, sitting me onto his lap on the bed, rubbing my back softly as I buried my face in his neck.
"You're so cute.." he chuckled "so sensitive" he kissed my neck, continuing to rub my back, reassuring me.
"You want my cock to cheer you up..?" He whispered softly, I perked my head up, nodding softly. He chuckled and layed me down onto the bed, pulling my panties off.
"Such a naughty girl..stealing my cigarettes" he muttered, sliding off his shorts and boxers, my hands reached out to his shirt, pulling it off and revealing his sweaty, toned body.
"Fuck.." I mumbled, my pussy aching for him. "Look how wet you are for me..so needy" he smirked, his tip prodding at my entrance. "Put it in..please.." I moaned, he chuckled "of course baby.." grabbing my hips and slamming his cock fully into me, stretching me out quickly.
"Fuck!" I yelped, my hands flying to his shoulders, holding onto them desperatly, he started to thrust harshly, pounding into my pussy.
"Such a sensitive girl.." he muttered, leaning down and kissing my neck softly, leaving small hickeys wherever his lips landed. "Mmmph.." I groaned, his nails digging into my hips, my back arching as his tip hit my sweet spot, pounding into it relentlessly.
"So tight.." he mumbled against my neck, rubbing his thumb over my hips, soothing the sore skin with his marks. "Ah!" I cried out, his cock continuing to slam into me, hitting all the right angles, waves of pleasure coursing throughout my body.
"Cum for me baby..make me proud" he grunted, his pace quickening, desperate to feel my pussy clamping down on his cock. I felt a knot forming in my stomach, coiling down to my core as his cock repeatedly rammed into my pussy, pushing me closer to the edge.
"Ohh fuck!" I whined, my legs twitching as my orgasm crashed down, my juices spilling all over his cock. He groaned and kept on thrusting, shooting his load into me, fucking it deep.
He rode out our highs, collapsing on top of me and playing with my hair, "you're so adorable honey" he smirked, flipping us over and letting me rest on his chest.
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tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @kaulitzsbabyy @ballhair @ge-billsgf @estxkios @bkaulitzlover @charliesgoodboy @tomsonlyslut
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buggxd · 9 months
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★Chloe price x fem!reader★
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☆THIS IS NOT A SMUT!!☆
☆Summary - basically Chloe had bought some 🍃 and asks you to come over when David and Joyce are out and you two smoke and chill.☆
You didn’t attend a fancy college whatsoever actually you didn’t go to college at all, you had a job at convenience store you didn’t get paid much but it was better than nothing you still lived with your parents and they provided you with everything you needed basically, a roof over your head, food, water, clothes, and they had got you a car when you were about 16 and you had kept it in good condition all you need to pay for is gas.
You had just finished your shift and it was around 5pm you didn’t do much but you felt exhausted so as soon as your shift ended you rushed outside into your car and drove off, you were gonna go home but you had stopped right before you took off due to the sudden buzz coming from your phone you picked it up and glanced at the screen only to see a message from your close friend Chloe, the message read “you left something at my house stop by :)” you read the message to yourself outloud trying to recall what you could have possibly left at her place, you could have sworn you had everything in you room at home but you decided it wouldn’t hurt to stop by maybe you had forgotten something. Your thoughts started to drift as you tried to think of what you could have left was it a shirt? Shorts? Socks? Panties? Your extra bra? You finally snapped out of it and texted her back with a quick and short response “on my wayy!!:)” you started your car and turned your music up and took off.
After a quick 10 minute ride you finally arrived at Chloe’s place you had been there multiple times so you felt comfortable just walking in but just to be safe you messaged Chloe another quick message that read “here !”
You stepped out of your car putting your keys in the pocket of your oversized hoodie along with your phone and started to walk towards her door, you open the door go up the stairs as your met with Chloe’s door which was cracked you peeked inside to see Chloe kneeled down by her bed and you got a whiff of a familiar smell. You opened the door and Chloe quickly stood up and kicked something under her bed you gave a confused look and she just smiled and without a word grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards her bed you plopped on it and gave her a confused look. She shut her door and took a seat next to you, “sooo… what did I leave here chlo?” Confusion laced in your voice she looked at you and smiled “ok don’t be mad..” she paused for a moment “you didn’t really leave anything I just wanted to show you something!” You we’re a bit confused on why she didn’t just ask you to come over instead of making something silly up “then why did you ask me to come?” You ask with an awkward smile “I wanted to show you this…” she brand the box from under her bed and opened it up.
It was a bag, stuffed with weed you looked at your best friend in shock slightly due to the fact on the amount and slightly because you were wondering where the hell she got so much “where’d you get all that?” You asked with a smile “that info cannot be disclosed bud..” she laughed a bit you did the same “no but seriously is that why you called me over?” You said still amazed by the amount “Hell yeah but also I just needed to get some shit off my mind and who else is better to get stuff of my mind with then you!?” You giggled at her praise towards you.
Within the next couple minutes your next to Chloe in her usually tank with ripped jeans and your in shorts a t-shirt socks and a blunt in your hand that of course she rolled, you hand it back to her as you reach to her nightstand for her lighter she puts the blunt in her mouth and you light it, she inhaled and blew out the smoke and soon after passed it to you for the next couple minutes you two and passing the blunt chloe had the bright idea to do that thing where one person blows the smoke into the other persons mouth, she ended up convincing you if would be cool you didn’t think it wasn’t you were just really nervous you liked Chloe more than just your best friend so the thought of her being that close to her made you a little shy. There you were on Chloe’s bed face to face her legs crossed while you were on your knees she took a hit and right after she grabbed your chin guiding your face closer to her own and then tapped your cheek as a tiny cue to open your mouth as soon as you did she blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled. Your face was turning a slight rosy color and you had butterflies in your stomach like crazy your lips were maybe less than an inch away from each other she didn’t let go of your face yet you had already blown the smoke out yet her hand was as still on your chin then it slowly had risen to your cheek you two held eye contact for a bit then Chloe spoke up “your so beautiful” your eyes widen you didn’t know if this is how she really felt or if it was the weed kicking I either way her words made your face hot, she moved a little closer and you did the same. Your lips met hers and then separated soon after she looked like she wanted to keep on but you weren’t sure if it was a good idea, what if you mess things up? What if she’s just kidding? What if she didn’t mean it? As you got lost in your thought you felt her lips back on your but this time the kiss was more intense you placed one hand on her shoulder and one on her arm that’s still holding your face and she places her other hand on your waist the kiss ended up turning into a whole make out sesh and a sloppy one at that her hand was gripping your lower waist area and the other slowly moved to the back of your head and she grabs your hair slightly tugging on it, your hand leads to the side of her neck and you two make out for what felt like forever. Afterwards you two try to catch your breath and she looks at you and smiles you do the same then she plops down on her bed one arm on her side and one laid across the pillow beside her gesturing for you to lay with her you give in and lay your head on her inner elbow and face her as she wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you in a little soon after you two fell asleep.
★THIS WAS NOTT PROOF READ BUT IT WAS JS SMTH ON MY MIND PLSSS GIMME RECOMMENDATIONS !!!! ★
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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 8 months
Note
Could i request aot men with reader that has asthma?
the aot men and dating an asthmatic person
modern au
eren jaeger sooo bullies you about your asthma. he means it endearingly but sometimes it's a little much. eren also loves to be incredibly dramatic about it. he says things like "alright guys, dont make (y/n) laugh too hard, their lungs might explode."
armin arlert always carries an inhaler around, just in case you might need it. you have your own but he's afraid you might forget it. he's always telling you to take it easy but you make him incredibly nervous because he thinks you're pushing your limits.
connie springer calls you 'lil wheezy.' it was cute at first but now he calls you that more than your real name. he's also broken a few of your inhalers from throwing them around or accidentally stepping on them. you've never had an asthma attack around him and hes grateful because he thinks he'd have a heart attack.
jean kirstein pokes fun at you and your lungs that work a bit overtime. he draws little doodles on your inhalers and always reminds you when its time to get a new one. once when you needed a hit, he insisted on pressing it for you. it was a really sweet, intimate moment.
reiner braun adores that you have asthma. he's not quite sure why but he thinks it's because he finds it a little nerdy and it just adds to your charm. he think's its funny that he's such a big gym bro but if you attempted some of the things he does, you'd be out of breath.
bertholdt hoover is so, so sweet to you. he always takes your asthma in consideration. he walks closer to the smoking section if you're walking past one, so you don't have to endure that. he totally checks the air index too.
levi ackerman carries your inhaler around for you. he keeps it in his jacket pocket, he insists on it. he tries to force feed it to you even when you don't need it. you have to convince him every time you're only slight out of breath and that you don't need to take a puff.
erwin smith doesn't bother you about your asthma. he trusts you to not over work your lungs and to be responsible with your inhaler. occasionally, he'll remind you that you need to get a new one but you're pretty good at keeping on top of that stuff.
zeke jaeger loves his asthmatic partner. he mocks you when you lose your breath but he follows it by presenting your trusty inhaler. everytime you two watch a movie together and there's a mention of asthma or an inhaler, he goes " look babe! it's you!"
porco galliard is sort of a helicopter parent. he won't let you go anywhere without it, even if you're just going to take a shower. he doesn't quite understand the entirety of it but obviously he wants to keep you breathing. live, laugh, love, himbo porco.
my jean fanfic
my ko-fi
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