#And I can like feel my muscles (not that I have any) and all the stuff in my body jiggling
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lightning strike | h. iwaizumi
✮ tags ; afab + gn!reader, recently established relationship, mutual pining, pwp, dry humping + making out, nipple play, implied raw sex, super love-dovey, deliberate name change from iwaizumi to hajime 18+
✮ wc ; 4k (???????)
✮ a/n ; something deeply frightening happened to me in writing this but whatever. made it with ten minutes to spare happy bday mr iwaizumi
pls be nice if characterization is everywhere its been a while
He’s nervous.
So nervous.
You laugh at him over a can of beer, even harder when he visibly flinches at the sound. The room is too quiet since all of your company has left for the evening. Iwaizumi is tipsy but not drunk - though you think if he has another can he’ll get there just fine.
“Your face is gonna get stuck if you keep frowning.”
He shoots you a glare that makes your lips quirk up. “Shut up. You sound like my Ma.”
“How is she by the way? Still good?”
Iwaizumi snorts and takes a long sip of his beer. He tilts his head back against the couch, arm stretched along the seats. His muscles pull taut underneath the skintight material of his turtleneck. You find yourself sitting on your hands to calm down, but you’re too unfocused for it too work.
“She’s good. She likes the countryside. Been growing squash and tomatoes and everything. Gonna try and stay with her a bit during off-season,” His voice is wistful and affectionate. An only son, filial and polite - you smile at him lovingly. “You should come visit with me.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Guess it’s the same since we’ve already met but since we’re going steady I though you might be too nervous.”
The realization settles in too late. Just when you thought he’d swallow the nerves down, they make an appearance once again. He sits up straight, clearing his throat, diverting his gaze to the coffee table separating you both. A blush spreads up, all through his body. His ears turn especially turn some shade of cherry red. Dusts all along his nose. He tsks at you, tongue clicking with a familiar petulance. You bite back a laugh.
“Going steady? Seriously?”
“Well,” Your face twists in mischief as you look up at him, your eyes locking briefly. “You’d get all hissy if I called us lovers.”
His eyes go wide - in equal parts shock and mild disgust. You can’t hold the laugh back that time time no matter how hard you try. It bubbles up out of you, euphoric and hysterical. Your laughter is too loud to savor his displeasure, so caught up in it that it takes you a few minutes to calm down again,
“I hate you,” Iwaizumi mumbles. A grin splits your face.
“No, you don’t.”
He frowns and his blush darkens just a touch
The room goes quiet save for the sound of your heartbeat. You try and collect yourself. The house feels too quiet, all prior company absen. Not that Mattsun and Maki dragged out Oikawa to be considerate of your newfound love or anything. You’re sure you’ve already gotten a long text detailing your extortion related to the favor. Still, you’re glad to be alone with him.
It’s easy to split your time between all of them separately when you’re all in the same place - but complicated to be all together. And alone time with Iwaizumi has always been hard to come by.
You’ve been pining for him since highschool - the frequency you wish to see him tuned tuned by the passing years of your relationship and feelings. You’ve gone through the whole spectrum of desires. From wanting to see him everyday constantly, to hoping you’d never have to see him again. It took you well over a decade to make any progress, and the entire process (while surely heartfelt) has been unmistakably clumsy and so, so long.
Spending alone time with Iwaizumi has thus always been complicated except for this one time. You got together, officially, just last week. The day he came home, where you incidentally found yourselves alone together. Something that’d been rare years prior due to said pining and trying to get over him. You don’t even really know how it happened. It felt like the most significant moment in your life thus far and incomparably anticlimatic at once. He was just sending you home since you’d got completely shitfaced, and before you left you grabbed him by the collar and announced it. Just like that.
(You threw up half-way through the car ride back. Your Uber was nice enough to pull over so you didn’t do it in his car.)
You went home after and didn’t speak for days. It took a few more days for either of you to work up the courage to sort things out forreal, but you made it work with the help of even more alcohol.
Things get busy though, when Oikawa returns home and Hajime is off-season. It’s rare things line up, and when they do - it’s only natural you spend all your time together. You did today too, celebrating Iwaizumi’s birthday among the four of you with take-out and Godzilla movies on your nice flatscreen.
But you haven’t been alone with each other since your chat establishing your relationship as not a pipe-dream, which was notably through text.
He’s nervous, so incredibly nervous but so are you. Just a little.
You look up after being lost in thought - to see Iwaizumi stare at you. The air shifts slow and steady, thick tension stirring in your gut. You bite the inside of your cheek, rubbing your feet together as you fold over yourself, chin resting on your knee.
You wonder if you should be the one to break the distance. Iwaizumi beats you to the punch this time. You suppose you’re even.
“Come ‘ere.”
He pushes the coffee table farther away from him with ease, careful not to knock anything over. Your tipsy self swoons over his competence, but you’re sure you’d do the same sober.
The look he gives you as you crawl over to him makes you feel bashful. You go over until you’re sitting side by side - stretching your legs out. Your thighs barely touches. Iwaizumi jolts, swiping a hand over his face in exasperation.
“Sorry,”
You shake your head. “It’s okay.” Because it is, then just to make sure. “Are we okay?”
“More than okay,” He admits, a breath of relief following the words. “It was a good birthday, by the way. Thank you.”
“They’ll get upset that you only thanked me,”
He bristles immediately making you giggle. “I’ll thank those knuckleheads later.”
You smile at him, wide and bright. He looks at you before quickly looking away, laughing a little humorlessly to himself. You wonder what he’s thinking about but decide against asking, comfortable letting him go at whatever speed.
“Can I uh—“ He clears his throat. “Wanna kiss you. Just uhh… shit.”
You’d love to tease him, but you feel like your heart might explode out of your body so there’s not really much room. Nodding, you sit up on your knees and turn a little to face him. His features soften with remarkable fondness. You flush at the sudden attention. He sits up straighter, turning his head to face you. His forehead knocks against yours softly, noses brushes. His eyes are so sharp. You have to close your own when you feel him leaning in to kiss you.
Iwaizumi is warm. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be. His hands feel big as one snakes up to cup your neck. He gives you one deep kiss, followed by two pecks before pulling away to make you chase him. He rewards you by kissing you agai. The sudden pressure makes your head spin.
You pull away dazed. “You’re… super good at kissing.”
“Yeah?”
You press your thighs together at his reply. So sexy it’s unfair. “Uh-huh.”
He gives you a weighted hum.
His reaction spurs you on then. You pull away from him momentarily. Iwaizumi stares at you in reply, worry making his brow furrow. Before he can get the words out, you seat yourself on his lap. He’s taken aback as he realizes your intent, your arms around his neck. It’s not even really the alcohol, as much as it’s everything else. Cramped in your living room together, pressed up against your couch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, and shiver in his arms smelling his cologne. Spicy with a hint of pine. He hesitates, hands settling so carefully on your hips.
He lets you stay like that undisturbed until you’re ready to pull away. Like he senses you needed that. He’s always been so good at knowing what exactly you need. Suddenly restless you decide you need to look at him again - make sure he’s real. That this is real.
“Hey,” He mutters. His pitch is low, sends your heart hammering.
You giggle, fluttering nervously. “Hi,” And then, “You like me,”
“Pfft,” His voice is so tender, so soft, so comforting. “More than that.”
Suddenly overwhelmed by your own giddiness, you squeak. You want to bury yourself in his shoulder again, but he’s quick to hold your wrist and stop you. He pins you under his gaze. It’s so intense you can’t help but feel like a deer caught in headlights. Your head is empty and all he’s doing is looking at you.
But maybe that’s the whole problem. He’s looking at you, and you’ve wanted that for more than a decade. Now having it is too much, too suddenly - and you’re almost afraid of having it. It’s just a gaze, but it’s yours. He’s telling he’s yours in a way that’s just like him.
“You…” He starts on something before letting you go. “For a long time,”
He doesn’t need to explain. You already know.
“Me too,”
He calms down when you get it..
“Really?” He follows up. He doesn’t look at you as he goes on. “How long?”
You think on it.
“Since we were fifteen?”
“Same as me, then.” He’s clumsy with the follow-up. “That’s…”
“Dumb? Ridiculous? Too long?” You say, filling in the words for him. “I know.”
The extent of your own longing comes to you in waves. Love, like the sea trapped behind ice - so easily shattered. You’re drowning, your lungs aching trying to get adjusted to what is finally yours. The shock of it comes and goes, but you’re surrounded by it all the same. Iwaizumi stares at you and you stare back and nothing in the world exists except this desire you’ve kept to yourself for years.
His name comes out like a whimper on your lips. “Iwaizumi,”
“Hajime,” He corrects, so tender. So sweet to you. “Please,”
“Hajime,” You test the name out on your tongue. It’s sweet.
He doesn’t say anything after that.
Your breath hitches as Hajime crowds into your space again. His hands are firm on your hips as he kisses you again. It’s different from before, lingers longer - his tongue pressing along the seam of your lips until you open them and allow him in deeper.The taste of alcohol is clearer on your tongue, bitter remnants of malt making you drool at the corners of your mouth. You kiss hungrily, your hands carding through the short, black hair with a longing sigh. Hajime groans a little when you tug at the root and the only thing you can think to do is try to sink into him further. .
The hear raises without warning. Your skin under your clothes feels like it’s on fire. It feels different too suddenly for you to adjust and keep completely calm. Lust that borders cosmic engraves into your bones. Crumbling under the weight of it, you kiss Hajime like your life would end without it. In the moment, it feels like it would. Exchanged breaths are the only source of air for that space and time. You feel frantic, hazy - and Hajime who you know to be so steady, proves to be in the same place as you.
His hands are so big. You can feel how tight he grabs you, his thumb pressing into your hipbones - itching to go lower. You don’t want to pull away but you want more. In the second you take a breath you tell him as much. Your own delirium might bring you shame if you were in any place to really feel it. “You can touch me. However you want.”
“Fuck. Don’t say that.”
“Hajime, please.”
You mutter something but you don’t catch what it really. Your head is swimming with unrepentant ardor and your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth. Hajime kisses you again and takes the lead. The pleasure echoes in how you sigh, your hips rutting against his lap as his hands squeeze your ass. His hands are so fucking big - strong and kind and hold you with no uncertainty. The groping goes straight to your cunt, stomach starting to twist with familiar arousal. You push your hips against him again.
You’re hardly thinking about it. Hardly thinking at all - no coherency or sense thrumming through your brain except his name. Hajime, Hajime, Hajime. An incantation of destiny. A love song.
You feel his fingers inch up to go underneath your shirt - all of a sudden feeling burdened by all the layers between you. You can’t calm down.
He pulls away from you first in that instance. Before you can ask, he nudges himself close to your neck, kissing along your jaw. You feel the fabric of your shirt tug. “Can I take this off?”
You nod rapidly, then mimic him wanting him to do the same. His laugh is raspy in the follow through - your shirt and bra discarded somewhere on the floor. He stops suddenly, flicking his gaze up to you like he’s asking permission again. You just nod, not knowing how else to convey your desires.
Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal and cool air. Hajime’s tongue flicks from his lips.
His gaze makes you feel ticklish. He runs his palms over your tits with an appreciative noise. His eyes linger long enough to make your skin go hot all over, your spine prickling with heat.
“Staring,”
He looks up at your face, amused by your pout then kisses you as he feels you up, calloused palms brushing against your nipples, tits fitting perfectly in his hands. He smiles a little against your mouth. “Guess I am.”
“Take yours off,” You plea.
He obliges you, peeling the tight shirt away from his body and leaving his bare torso in full view. The proximity makes your lungs tighten like they can’t get enough air - heat radiating from his skin. His physique is toned, layers of muscle soft and comfortable He’s structured and gorgeous like a statue. You’re greeted by his broad chest and the corded muscles of his biceps. All sinew and strength, down his core. Strong and stable and big everywhere you could possibly look. You feel awestruck, mouth-watering at the sight - clit throbbing. Objectively attractive, you’re sure anyone in your place would feel the same. But this is your Hajime and the body he’s worked so hard on, full grown and yours. The trail of hairs down his stomach, getting coarse. The v-line of his waist makes you clench.
Too much.
The words tumble out of you before you can stop them, like water spilling from a broken dam. “I want you to fuck me so bad,”
His brows raise. You can feel something twitch hard against your clothed pussy. At full mast underneath the confines of his pants. \Your eyes go wet when you realize what it is. Mind sticky, you draw your lips into a pout and silent protest. Despite your desperation, you almost want to say it again, pleasure thrumming through your body at his reaction. It feels like electricity sparking up from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head.
Hajime presses his face to your neck all over again - hot, open mouth kisses trailing from jaw to chest. You gasp when his mouth closes around your tits, tongue laving over the tender skin and making your back arch.
“Wanna fuck you so bad,” He mirrors. His voice is scratchy and his grip is tight. “Been wanting to fuck you so bad for so long, you have no idea.”
There’s something true and well pathetic about the yearning that wells up inside of your gut and settles itself in your sternum. It spreads and grows and tangles in your ribs, curls around the vessels of your heartbeat. The kind of yearning that makes your whole being tremble, makes you want to preen and sing like a canary. It’d be good if time stood still so he could fuck you infintely - never being able to go where you can’t reach.
You rock against him and Hajime holds you steady like always. His voice drops down to murmur - speaking with alarming clarity. You’re teary from the sound of his voice.
“Let’s cum together,” He offers as reprieve, so sweet despite the harsh grip on your hips as he draws your weight down closer to him. You’re suddenly conscious of your choice in clothes - how thin the fabric of your shorts really as as the rough outline of his cock presses against the seam. You’re glad you didn’t wear underwear “And then I’ll make you cum again. I’ll take care of you,”
“You always take care of me,” You say with no awareness of your surroundings. He laughs breathlessly. ‘
“Yeah..since it’s you, it’s easy.”
You go wide-eyed but don’t get a minute to dissect. Not bothering to unbutton his jeans, you gape at the hard outline of his cock confined in black boxers. his He picks you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as your spine touches the carpet of your living room floor. You make a surprised noise as you’re let down gently. He doesn’t unfurl you from him. You spark back to life as his lips meet yours again chastely. The complaint you had dies on your lips when he trails down your jaw again. His voice is next to your ear, sinfully rough - warm breath tickling your skin. His teeth tug on your ear lobe and you shiver.
“Tell me if it’s too much,”
You don’t get a chance to ask about it.
The sudden motion of his hard cock rutting and humping against your sticky, wet cunt punches the air of out of your lungs.
There’s only a single layer of wet fabric keeping him from fucking you. The very idea makes your pussy throb unhelpfully. You understand all of a sudden that this was what he meant about wanting to make you cum. But it’s Hajime, your Hajime - so making you do any work wouldn’t cut it. Humping you in missionary of all things like he’s already inside you.
The thought overwhelms and you gasp.
You don’t recognize the sound of your own voice, so high and pitchy with need. Pure pornography. But there’s no camera for you perform for, nothing but Hajime above with with a heavy gaze. Your spine arches at the sensation once it hits its stride, the angle of friction just right. The indirect touches makes your core throb. Your clit has been achingly sensitive for so long, and the release of tension in a single thrust is enough to make you shudder each time. It feels like you’ve been holding the feeling in your entire life. You wheeze his name out brokenly as he does it again - a sharp thrust, precise enough to be perfect like he already knows you that well.
Your lower body feels week as the arousal starts to climb to a steady chorus. You pant for him like a bitch in heat.
He’s not inside you but the smack of his hips against yours makes you feel like you’re getting fucked anyways. You imagine how it’ll feel when he really fucks you and can’t see straight after the fact. Each little movement spreads precum along your shorts, already wet with your own arousal. The friction of the damp fabric makes you cry out from pleasure, animalistic with need. Your nails dig into his biceps as he kisses you all over, wherever he can possible reach. Along your neck, shoulders, collarbones chest. Any place he has accsess.
You want him so fucking deep it’s frustrating, want him up to your throat - but the lack of direct touch makes you want him more desperately. And it makes it feel so, so good. The kind of pleasure that’s dull and throbbing but makes something in your spine go alight, like shoving your thumb into a bruise. You want Hajime to press himself into you hard enough to make the healed dull yellows vibrant purple and red all over again.
You gasp helplessly each time he rocks his hips into you. He’s whispering such filth against your ear, into your mouth each time you kiss and you can’t reply with anything but his name. He praises you each time anyway, goads you into saying it again. Again and again and again until you can’t find your own voice.
“Say it again,” Hoarse, punctuated by another thrust that nearly drives you over the edge and makes your eyes go wide. “Say my name again, baby”
“Hajime.” So you say it- can’t think of any substitute since you’re not sure god would suffice. Locked between you in the warm sticky air is just Hajime, all yours.
Every muscle in your body starts to lock up as you hit the final stride to your orgasm. You want to cum so badly for him and only him. All over his cock in any way he’ll light you. The thought pushes you over the edge. Over and over and over until you hang over the precipice of your own orgasm. When it hits, it hits like a crash of thunder on open plain. Like suddenly everything in you that’s every been grounded in Earth is scattered with sparks, skating and careening across your body. You feel him in the fiber of your being. Your toes curl at the sudden release, not able to voice a warning that isn’t just a soft gargle in the back of your throat. He doesn’t stop or stutter in his motion, instead gripping your hips tight as he can while lets you run through your high - nothing but praise and affection.
You can feel him more than you can see him cum along with you. Sticky, hot seed flowing in spurts as his dick twitches for you - his ragged breathing covering your skin in goosebumps. You moan at the warm sensation drenching your poor, covered pussy and find the load to be wasted though you feel contented anyway.
You’re barely sane enough to catch your breath, but he eventually lets you down - though you can’t keep from hugging him. You pull back to look at each other.
You brush the sweat matted hair away from his forehead with a lovesick sigh and giggle. He looks down at you with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours with.
“Can’t believe I came in my pants like a teenager,” He says through a laugh.
“It’s like making up for lost time,” You say warmly, all floaty. “Plus, the way you were fucking me but not fucking me…definitely a man. It was really hot, you know?”
He groans. “I’ll get riled up again.”
You smile at him. “Let’s fuck lots for your birthday, Hajime.”
“Is that the present you mentioned earlier?”
You pretend to think on it. “Mm..no. Not just the sex, anyway.”
He looks at you confused as you lean in closer to him. “It’s safe so there’s no condoms anywhere in this apartment, unless you wanna go stop to get some.”
He gives you a blown out look of lust with a soft breath, voice bordering a growl. “As if I’d make it through the door now.”
You laugh helplessly happy and kiss him. “Happy birthday.” And then a little quieter. “I love you.”
He softens visibly but doesn’t say anything else. You don’t need to hear him to know.
You think the spare copy of your keys might make him cry. So you decide you’ll give it to him later.
The clock hasn’t hit midnight yet, anyhow. You have plenty of time.
Now and always.
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imagine giving james a skincare sesh where reader is seated comfortably (on his lap ehm) and he lets her put all sorts of moisturizers, face masks and even lip balm on him and he secretly LOVES it and after they eat homemade cookies and watch their comfort show
thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this, it's my skincare routine applied to james. i guess that means he's literally my boyfriend now (support my delusions please <3333) you can send me requests for james!
james potter x fem!reader, fluff
"are you ready?" you say, grinning. you carried most of your skincare essentials to living room, ready to give your tired boyfriend a nice spa day.
"yes." james walks out of the bathroom. "i washed my face."
"with the cleansing jel?"
"yes, baby." he sits on the couch next to you. you place yourself on his lap expertly, his face looks dry and clean. you lean to give him a kiss on his cheek, james settles down on couch with his back to pillows.
"okay." you say, clapping your hands. you're excited to give him a nice treating, he deserves all the best. you've never understood how boys have clear and smooth skin naturally, james certainly doesn't use as many products as you do, but he lets you do anything you want to him. skincare is like a therapy for you, quality minutes you spend on yourself. it's relaxing, taking care of your body without a single thought in your mind, you want james to experience it, too.
"let me just pull your hair back first." you say quietly, using tiny hairclips to secure his curls.
"why are you whispering?" he asks, whispering.
"i wanna create a relaxing ambience for you." you answer. "whispering is a part of it."
"oh." he teases. "okay."
you take your face toner in your hand, pouring some of it on a cotton pad. "close your eyes, jamie." you say, start applying it on his skin.
james relaxes into the pillow, his hands keep you balanced on his thighs. he likes how excited you get to take care of him, he likes being spoiled by you. your fingers are gentle on his face, almost invisible.
"now i'm gonna put on a face mask, handsome." you say, tearing the package of the mask. "it can feel a bit cold."
"that's okay." he mumbles. you place the mask on his skin carefully, adjusting the sides to cover his entire face. "what does this do?"
"um," you read the package. "it's for hydration mostly, and it has vitamin c in it."
"cool." he has no idea what vitamin c does for skin.
"we're gonna wait for 15 minutes." you say. "can i massage your hands while we wait?"
this must be some kind of special heaven for james. he gives you his hands blindly, you put on hand cream on the back of his hands and start rubbing it nicely on his skin.
james sometimes complains about how rough his hands feel, he washes them a lot and always neglects applying moisturizer. the cream feels good, like he has the skin of a baby now. you're being really sweet on him, he likes the way his muscles loosen up under your fingers.
"you're an angel." he says, a deep sound coming from his throat when you press a tight spot between his thumb and forefinger. "my fucking angel."
you smile, giving the same care to his other hand. james feels his hands go numb when you're finished. you clean the remnants of the cream on your hands before taking the mask off his face. "there you go." you put the used mask aside. "feels good?"
"i feel like a baby."
you laugh. "you're gonna be like a baby when i'm done."
it's a nice promise, james likes it very much. "i'm gonna apply some under eye cream now." you whisper. "you have no dark circles, i'm so jealous."
"it's because i actually have a sleeping schedule, lovely girl." he smiles. "something you lack, you know."
"hmm."
you massage his face a little bit before applying some moisturizer. you don't think any more products are needed for james, his skin is already perfect and the mask takes care of a lot of things. you want his face to be relaxed, so you keep your fingers on his cheeks. he smiles a lot, there are little lines on the corners of his lips and eyes that start forming. you can't help yourself, you kiss his lips softly. he immediately reacts but you pull yourself back, focusing on your work.
"what's the point of relaxing if i'm not gonna get a kiss?" james frowns.
"you'll get your kisses." you promise. "when i'm done."
applying moisturizer is so easy, his skin is glowing now. you make sure you cover every little spot on his face. "it smells good." he says. you nod even though his eyes are closed. "it really does." you say.
"and now," you put the cream away. "lip mask."
"lip mask?" james opens his eyes. "how will i kiss you if i have something on my lips?"
you laugh at his dramatics. "it never stopped you before. you always ruin my lipstick, remember?"
"not the same thing."
"come on, be a good boy for once." you tease. james parts his lips in shock. "once? this is a vile accusation."
you stop him, putting on a tiny bit of lip mask on his lips. he presses his lips together clumsily. "it tastes nice. is that strawberry?"
"you're not supposed to eat it!" you laugh. "leave some of it at least."
"mm, okay." he says. you fix his hair, and put a kiss on his cheek. you hand him the remote before leaving his lap. "i'm gonna bring you some cookies, can you pick a show?"
james nods, watches you clean up the mess through sleepy eyes. his skin has never felt this soft, he wants to pinch his own cheeks. he opens up the show you both like as he waits for you.
you come back with a plate full of cookies. james pulls you into his lap again. "i'm gonna eat just one." he says smugly. "i can't ruin my lip mask and i don't want crumbs on my face."
you laugh. "you're getting really good at this skincare thing."
"thanks to my angel." he says, he kisses your cheek three times. "i love you so much."
"i love you, too, baby." you say, your hand in his curls. "i can do it anytime you want."
"good, because i don't think i can go on without this anymore." he says like it's so obvious. "now, i remember i was promised kisses."
you settle down on his lap. "i don't wanna ruin your lip mask."
"it's not ruining, babe." he disagrees. "i'm willingly sharing my lip mask with you."
you laugh until your chest hurts.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter x fem!reader#james potter fanfic#james potter imagine#james potter fluff#james potter fanfiction#marauders#marauders era#marauders imagine#marauders fanfic#marauders fic#marauders fics
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𓍢ִ໋ ₊⊹ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་
—⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚┊nsfw (18+ minors dni), afab reader, consensual sex, established relationship, soft dom aventurine, blowjob, riding, implied creampie, petnames, praise kink, they do it on the couch of the reverie hotel room eheh, ofc aventurine would be a gentle lover, i hc him as a devoted boyfriend, arghhhh i'm obssessed with him (╥﹏╥)♡
“That’s it baby, you're doing so so good.” Aventurine heavily breathed through his nose as he watched your head bounce up and down his cock. He threw his head back on the comfy head of the red couch he was sitting on, his hand slowly laying over your head in a sweet gesture. "My good girl..." he whispered before looking back down at you.
You whined at those words and gave Aventurine a loving glare as you flatten your tongue and lick his cock from the base to to the tip. You swirled your wet muscle around the top of his lenght, softly moaning when you tasted the salty precum. Aventurine couldn't take his eyes away from your tempting little tongue darting to taste more of him. He loved that you were so into it, moaning around him so prettily and swaying your hips for some friction. Aventurine bet you were dripping down there. He was craving to see it by himself and mess up your little pussy even more.
"Darling, can you get up please ?" you gave his cock one last lick before standing up, legs shaking from the kneeling position you were in. You were almost drooling at the sight of Aventurine lazily strocking his cock up and down, already messing the heaviness of his thick member on your tongue. "You're a needy little thing aren't you ? Staring at my cock when you just had it in your mouth," he chuckled knowing damn well he was touching himself on purpose. "You're such a tease", you couldn't help but mumble grumpily. Aventurine laughed and the sound made your heart stutter. You loved him so much...
Still looking at him, you slowly slided your panties down your legs, Aventurine's expression going from amusement to lust in an instant. You were now totally naked while he was still fully dressed, aside from his coat. He gasped when you straddled him, the dim light of the hotel room made you look as divine as ever. "Raise your hips baby" Aventurine's tone was needy, you could see all he desired right now was to fuck you dumb.
You arched your back when his palm made contact with the burning skin of your hip, squeezing the flesh before laying his hand on your lower back. You could see he was still palming himself, his cock was so hard the sight alone made your inside tingle with envy. Aventurine slided his lenght between your silky folds, collecting your essence and tapped the tip on your clit. "Don't tease please..." Aventurine darkly chuckled at your pleads but did stop teasing you. Staring right into your eyes, he gently buried himself into your heat, trying to find any sign of discomfort. When you gave him a nod signaling he could continue, he placed his hands on your waist and started with slow languid thrusts that had you whining on his lap in no time.
The filthy sounds of your arousal filling up the room could have embarassed you if you weren't feeling that good. Aventurine listened to your sobs of pleasure, his name being shouted like prayers in the intimacy of the room as he pounded you like crazy. "You have no idea how much you turn me on baby", he whispered on your neck at some point, his cock buried deep into you.
You did know, though. You could feel him twitching. You could hear how vocal and whimpery he was getting. He was so lost into you he was fucking you deeper, his hips snapping at a fast pace earning the loudest moans from you. "Your pussy was made for me and me only. You're mine baby you hear me ?", he grunted before licking one of your nipple and toying with the other between the pad of his fingers.
"I'm yours baby. Only yours~", you tightened around him and met his hips, fucking yourself on him the best you could to chase more pleasure.
"You can't help it, uh ? My cock is too good you wanna fuck it yourself ?" he laid back on the couch, his hips halting to let you do all the work. "Make us cum, I know you can do it baby. Show me how good you can make us."
The next minutes that followed brought the two of you quickly on edge. Your orgasm building up the more Aventurine's cock brushed your g-spot. You were tightening on him, his cock squeezed between the plushy walls of your pussy and it took a few swirls of your hips before he came deep inside of you, his eyes locked on yours. You watched him come undone, face contorted in pleasure as he let out the sluttiest moans a man can do. You came seconds after, soaking his cock with your own arousal as your hips stuttered over him. "That's it baby, let yourself go you're doing so well for me". Aventurine talked to you through it, his gaze gentle, patiently waiting for you to come down from your high. "I'm so proud of you. My good girl."
© please do not repost and/or claim my posts as your own
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Reader Receives PeggyNats Nudes Accidentally
Authors note: For my ease, all of the drabbles for the couples will have reader receiving the couples nudes in the same manner (Though circumstances do differ). I apologize if this becomes repetitive.
Authors note 2: accidentally went a bit long with this one. Though I'm sure y'all won't mind lol
Warnings: smut (eating out and mirror sex)
Word count: 1198
Marvel Masterlist How They React To Masterlist
Both women step out of their shared shower and grab their towels, beginning the process of drying off. Once their bodies are dry they step off the mat in front of the shower and move closer to the counters
Natasha lets out a chuckle as she tousles the small towel that's on her girlfriend's head, earning her a playful glare from the brunette, “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”
Nat smirks, “Don’t lie, you like when I’m playful”
“Indeed I do, but that doesn't mean I won't tease you for it” Peggy admits with a smile and a wink that has butterflies erupting in Natashas belly
Seemingly oblivious to the feelings she's caused the redhead, Peggy continues to towel off her hair, giving Nat the perfect view of her bare muscles flexing. Her ogling however doesn't go as unnoticed, but the Brit chooses not to say anything and instead waits for Natasha to make a move
Nats eyes shamelessly take in every curve and crease of Peggy's body. From her toned shoulders, down to her solid abs and continuing down past her core, which she admittedly stops to admire a bit longer, until finally stopping at her thighs
“Bozhe, pochemu ty dolzhna byt' takoy chertovski privlekatel'noy(God, why do you have to be so damn attractive)?” she mutters, already forming a plan in her head
“Sorry darling, I didn't quite catch that”
Nat hums and takes a step closer to the other woman, making her turn to look at her. The mix of adoration and pure hunger in the shorter woman's eyes has her own belly doing flips.
“You look good enough to taste….Can I?”
Peggy's body reacts before she can even give a proper response and Nat watches in amusement as the brunette's legs automatically part to give her more room. Still, she waits for a verbal response
“Yes…”
Without wasting any more time Natasha drops to her knees in front of her girlfriend, and places her hands against Peggys thighs. She trails them over the muscles before moving them around to the Super soldier's firm ass, and gently squeezes as she brings her mouth to Peggys awaiting pussy.
“Oh hell…” she breathes out as Nats tongue swipes through her folds
Nat hums in response, sending vibrations through the other woman that have her clenching around her girlfriends tongue as she slips inside. Natashas nose bumps against her clit and she swears that if she wasn’t a super soldier, she'd be in need of some serious support to stay standing due to how good she's currently feeling. She's lost in that feeling of bliss for a few moments, until she gets a rather unexpected idea. Though she supposes it's rather time for her to be the cheeky one.
She reaches over to the counter where she had left her phone before the shower and grabs it. Now admittedly, she still doesn’t know how to use it very well, but she knows how to work the camera. And right now, that's all she's after. She opens the app and points it at the large mirror in front of her, moving around to find the perfect angle.
She knows that through all of this, Natashas eyes haven’t missed any of her movements. No matter the circumstances she never does. So before she takes the picture she looks down to confirm it's okay. The sight of the redhead with blown pupils and arousal dripping down her chin has a moan escaping Peggy instead of the question, but thankfully Nat knows what she intended
“You can take one” she assures, her voice a bit raspier than usual either from lust or how long she's gone without using it while focused on pleasing Peggy, “Just make sure it gets sent to me when I’m done with you”
Peggy nods and quickly snaps the pic before setting her phone back down on the counter, and Natasha eagerly reattaches her lips to her girlfriends clit. Without thinking Peggy buries her hand in Nats hair and pulls her face impossibly closer to her core
“Oh god! Natasha!” she moans, cumming into her girlfriends mouth,and Natasha takes great pleasure in the fact that she was able to get her girlfriends strong legs to tremble
She stays on her knees, gently bringing Peggy through her orgasm and cleaning up the mess she made until Peggy's grip loosens in her hair. She pulls away and sucks in a breath she hadn’t even realized she needed while her girlfriend looks down at her with a smile
“Come here, love” she says, reaching to help pull the Russian to her feet
Once standing Natasha finds herself being trapped between the countertop and her girlfriend as Peggy captures her lips in a searing kiss. Her lips part to allow the taller women tongue to enter and she fully relaxed as Peggys arms wrap around her waist
After a few minutes of making out the older woman pulls away with an affection filled smile, “I suppose I should send you that picture, before I forget”
“Oh, I wouldn’t let you forget about it” Nat says with a smile, but still lets her girlfriend go to retrieve her phone
As usual Peggy fumbles to get the picture sent off but once it goes through she seems satisfied. Nat picks up her own phone to look at the picture and is also satisfied, for all of five seconds. Because that's when she notices her girlfriends blunder
“Lyubov'(love).....you sent it to the chat with Y/n”
Her eyes widen as panic and anxiety build inside her as she thinks about their teammate, friend and longtime crush seeing that picture, “Damn”
In your room you hear your phone ding and decide that you've worked on paperwork enough today anyway. So you get up from your desk and plop down on your bed to grab your phone. You're quite happy to see that the notification is from the group chat with your best friends, who also happen to be a couple and a couple that you're madly in love with at that.
When you open the message you're greeted with a picture of a slightly foggy mirror that has the reflection of a fully naked Peggy staring back at you, and though you know you should, you can’t tear your eyes away. Your eyes continue to travel further down and that's when you notice a head of red hair that obviously belongs to Natasha as her bare back faces the mirror. You swallow hard and take a deep breath to settle your nerves and to figure out just what the hell is going on, but before you can get your bearings another text from Peggy comes through
I am so incredibly sorry, still figuring out this blasted phone
I would like to say that it's not a problem, but truly I don’t think I’ll be able to forget what I’ve seen….and I'm not quite sure i even want to
Natasha rereads your message three times to make sure she's reading it correctly as Peggy somehow gets out a reply, You don’t have to forget.
In fact detka(baby), you can even see more.
#peggy carter#peggy x reader#peggy carter x reader#captain carter#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x reader#peggynat#peggy x natasha#peggynat x reader#marvel#fanfic#marvel fanfiction
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Content: old headcanons, NSFW, MDNI, body worship, soft dom! Jing Yuan, female anatomy
-Anytime you cuddle in your bed with this soft man of a general, he will shed anything that weighs even an ounce too much. So that often leaves him in some thin lining of clothes, just enough to keep him warm and comfy, but even that can go further until both of you are naked and feeding off of each other’s body warmth
-For example, like right now. Two of you have barely seen each other much lately, both busy with your own journeys across the vast territory of Xianzhou Luofu. But finally he can feel your limbs intertwine. He would prop himself up onto his elbow to have more of a vantage point over you, with his other arm over your waist, slowly rubbing your soft skin with his thumbs. His eyes are so warm and full of this relaxing mirth that it’s hard to look away, it's hypnotic what this man can tell you just by looks and gazes. His loving gazes are only for you, just for you
-Then his eye catches onto a small mole on your skin and from there he brings his hand up to trace from it to the other skin mark, to the next and the next until his hands are softly massaging and rubbing all over you lovingly, his lips slowly following suit
-And you return the favor, tracing his chest and the few scars and moles he may have there. His pale skin is always such a pretty sight, especially in the dimmer lights of the swallowed sunlight. His hair even looks like beaten gold
-He doesn’t stop praising you. His words are mutters and whispers, half unfinished sentences interrupted with languid kisses he leaves over your skin. They’re endless and countless, and if he could keep awake that long, he’d kiss you until the end of times, and bit by bit he’s climbing on top of you, his kisses are becoming more fervent, seeking to devour you
-He would hold you close, kissing the crown of your head, and then his head would dip to your neck where you’re most sensitive, teasing you by licking and sucking. He would hum something absentmindedly, every now and then with a low rumble in his throat, but you can tell he is already beginning to get riled up, and that this teasing game won’t last long.
-Soft dom Jing is a sight for sore and lustful eyes that escapes the deepest depths of your dreams. The view of him towering over you, his chest muscles right there, one could say directly in your face but he loves to kiss you too much to distance his lips from yours. He has no need for ropes, unless you'd prefer it that way - otherwise he loves the skinship that comes with your little ministrations
-If he does anything, it's taking care of you. Not letting you catch a moment to breathe properly as he makes you get lost in the carnal pleasures of the body, stimulating all the weakest spots he knew of or the ones he just found out about. He's wearing that soft smirk, his eyes half lidded and heavy with lust that forms into sultry words on his tongue. His messy hair falls across his face, framing it and you can barely even bear the sight of him between your thighs, it’s too much.
-His hips chase yours, bucking into you and filling you with his cock, over and over again until he's pushed out every other thought out of your head, making your pretty head fuzzy and empty, aside from the thoughts of him. Nothing else matters but this warmth now. Just you and him.
-He's leaning down and kissing your neck, nibbling the marks he left previously in the valley over your breasts and over them, sucking on a reddened nipple
-Lazy thrusts of his hips make you crazy, craving for more and more, and he’s slowing down to hear you beg for his cock.
"Is this what you imagined when you said you wanted me? By the sounds you're making for me, I can't predict any other answer, mmm.. well, I'll tell you now.. this is all I could dream off the past few nights..."
"My love, you're so good..so good for me, aren't you? Ahh, that's it, just like that. Keep moving your hips, like so...mmhhmmm..mmm..ahhh..."
"Don't resist the feeling, sweetness. This is all for you, and it's no punishment...let it go.. I'm right here, ah...with you...ghhh.."
Ⓒ starrydragoness. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
#-dragon.delight#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#jing yuan smut#jing yuan x yn#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#jing yuan imagine#jing yuan headcanons#hsr jing yuan#hsr imagine#hsr x reader#hsr x you
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Quality Time
*PING* Rocco looked down and smiles. He'd been wondering what Carlo and their father had been up to for the past week. Ever since their mother left a couple of years back, their father had been relatively distant- choosing to spend his hours away from the office at the gym instead of at home with his sons. To be fair, Rocco had left the house at 18, and now at 24 he wasn't home as often as he'd hoped. Nonetheless, it took both boys by shock when their relatively distant father decided to take a month off of work to spend some "quality time" with his sons. Carlo got the first two weeks, and Rocco would have the second. What they were in for, their father wouldn't say.
Hey, Roc. Dad wants us all to meet up tonight. We're at the gym on Broad Street, meet us there in 30 minutes.
The text was odd, definitely different than the normally chipper tone his brother is known for having. There wasn't even a single emoji... Rocco had hoped that everything would go well, but from the curtness of Carlo's message, it wasn't looking good. He sighed, walking his lanky ass over to the closet and throwing on some clothes, wasting no time making the 20 minute walk down to Broad street. The dim neon glow of the Planet Jacked sign illuminated the front of the strip mall; at 9PM on a Wednesday, the gym was the only business open compared to the vacant suites and GameStop next door.
Rocco pulled open the door, pulling out his phone to text Carlo that he'd arrived. The response was immediate:
In the kettlebell room. Hurry up.
Something did feel off, but Rocco had dismissed it as an irritated Carlo trying to pawn their gruff and macho dad off on him. Neither were "manly men" by their father's standards, not that he'd ever treated them poorly by any means. It just meant that they had little to nigh in common with eachother, and little to build a very "buddy buddy" relationship on. But, at least he was making an effort.
Rocco made his way through the gym floor, weaving through benches and weight machines to the double glass doors that houses the calisthenics room. He pushed open the door, and walked inside. Right off the bat, his suspicions that something was off were proven to be justified as he saw his brother flexing in the mirror. Or at least, he thought it was his brother. The man had Carlo's likeness: his short stature, his green eyes, the black and green headphones... but this was not his brother.
Carlo was easily 100 lbs of muscle heavier than when he'd left with their father on Monday morning. His hair was buzzed short, his formerly friendly face now scowled an aggressive smoulder, his arms and legs were bursting with hard muscle. Compared to the 5'2" skinny 19 year old Rocco had known, this man might as well have been a stranger.
"Get my bag over there, gotta shower and change." His voice was harsh, gruff... as if he'd smoked eight cigars before working out. He remained flexing in the mirror, as Rocco stood there gobsmacked. His eyes quickly shifted from his physique to his brother standing perplexed at the door. "You gonna sit and stare or are we gonna get going?" Rocco slowly walked over to Carlo's gym bag, picking it up and straining to shlep it over his shoulder. "Jesus, Roc. We've got to get you into the gym. C'mon, let's go." Carlo turned and walked out of the room, with Rocco hastening to meet his pace.
"Uh, Carlo... Did you... take something? I mean, I'm not accusing you of anything, but how did you..."
"Get this fuckin' jacked? Dad helped out a bit." Outside of Rocco's eyesight, Carlo smirked devilishly. He sneered, hocking a mouthful of spit onto the garbage can. Rocco nearly dropped the bag and bolted. This couldn't be the sweet, naive little brother he'd grown up with. If anything, he was acting more like their father than himself. As they entered the locker room, Carlo stopped at the mirror again, pinching his chin as if he were checking himself out in the mirror. "Yeah, Dad was saying he wanted me to try some pussy this week, and that girls liked a guy with guns. Heh, it worked." He flexed his massive arms, the putrid scent of heavy unwashed musk wafted from his pits as he did. Rocco pinched his nose, dropping the gym bag onto the bench.
"Since when have you been interested in girls?" Rocco spoke with genuine concern in his voice. Carlo had been an out and proud gay man for years now. Their father never understood it, but it never really bothered him any. To him, as long as his sons were 'getting some' then all was well. But this, combined with Carlo's inflated ego and body...
"Since I felt like it. Thought I'd give breedin' a try. After six girls this week, I'm tuckered out." Carlo sauntered toward the shower stalls, tossing his hat and headphones to his brother before turning to face him. "Dad will be here in a minute, just wait here." With that, he walked into the stall, and Rocco could hear the water starting to flow. He fell backward onto the bench, awestruck. Turning to the bag, Rocco imagined vials and vials of steroids and testosterone hiding within. It was the only logical explanation. Taking a deep breath, he slowly unzipped the bag, and ripped the top open to reveal:
Nothing. Carlos' normal street clothes, albeit a bit stretched out now, and an empty shaker bottle. No drugs, no syringes, nothing incriminating whatsoever. Whatever had happened to him, it wasn't due to roid rage.
"NNNNUGUUHHHH" Carlo's voice echoed in the empty locker room over the sound of the showerhead. Rocco stood up quickly, darting toward the shower stalls. Before he could ask if his brother was okay, the noises began. Wet noises- unaffiliated with the running shower. Rocco slowly crept closer, and the sounds had become clearer. Slimy schlorps and squelches combined with Carlo's moans of seeming pleasure. Was he fucking a pocket pussy? Surely not, he assumed, though in the back of his mind, the brother he'd seen was not the Carlo he knew. "uuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNAGHHHHHH!" One final moan and a rubbery slurp, and the room was silent again.
Rocco quickly rushed to the end stall, ready to rip the white curtain open, only for it to open on it's own: revealing the hulking figure of his father. The shock was palpable, as thick as the steam in the air. His father towered above him, as he always did, a massive slab of hard meat with a face. Sweat dripped from every part of his hulking body, and his face was already plastered with a surprised expression. As if he weren't expecting Rocco to see him yet.
"Dad... Is Carlo oka..." Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he saw his brother slumped over on the shower seat, passed out under the hot streams of water: still in the shorts and running shoes he'd been wearing moments ago. His muscled body could barely bend at the waist, so his limp torso sat at a slight angle to the rest of his body. Rocco turned to his father, whose expression hadn't yet changed.
"I said I'd be there in a minute, Roc." The limber young man tried to rush to his passed out brother, only for the iron grip of his father to stop him in his tracks. "He'll be fine. He'll wake up just the way you know him, with a couple of extra pounds. Don't you worry."
"Dad, what the fuck is going on?" Rocco shouted at his father, whose brows began to furrow. The hulking man grabbed the white curtain, shutting it behind his son. Slowly the look of shock turned to one of seriousness, and a twinge of nervousness shot down Rocco's spine.
"I'm on vacation, Roc. With my boy. And now it's your turn to spend some time with your old man." Rocco took a step back, confused and anxious. "You're what, 24 now? Let me tell you something, Roc. When you hit 50, it doesn't matter if you're the sexiest god damn man alive- women just don't look at you the same. They take one look at you and see a stacked old man. They look at you like you're disgusting, Roc. I just wanted things to be the way they used to, when I was your age." Another step backward, and Rocco felt himself pinned against the wall. "It doesn't hurt. Carlo said it felt damn good. He'll wake up feelin' like a million bucks and go right back to sticking that greasy pole into some man ass. Might even be better than before. But you..." His father leaned in against the wall, the wafting stench of his BO encircling the two. "You swing both ways. So will you do your pop a favor, Roc?" Rocco swallowed his spit, as his father leaned in until they stood inches from eacother, eye to eye.
"W... What kind of favor?"
"Let me be young again. Just for a couple weeks. I'll hop back in Carlo if things get out of hand, he's already said he's good with it. Let your old man take you for a spin, show you how I used to do it back in the day. Then at the end of the month, I hop right out. Deal?" His father stuck his hand out, waiting for him to accept this insane deal. Rocco turned to his brother, slowly coming back to consciousness.
"... One week. And if you don't fuck things up, I'll think about the other two." His father smiled as Rocco shook his hand in agreement.
"Turn around, boy. And just take some deep breaths." Rocco did as he was told, slowly turning around and placing his hand onto the brown tiled wall. He could hear Carlo coming to, and hearing the wet clap of his father's hands rubbing together. "Alright, boy. It's gonna be tight, deep breath!" Rocco took a slow inhale, feeling a strange tingling sensation as he felt his father's hands on his bony shoulderblades. As he exhaled, he could feel the calloused hands slowly sink into his back. "Ohhhh, fuck." His father's gravelly bass voice growled in the cavernous room, soaring above the wet schlorps of his huge arms slowly sinking deeper into his son. Rocco watched as his father's hands appeared beneath the skin of his arms, the outline of his fingers sliding down his biceps and forearms was quickly followed by the sounds of rubbery creaks as his father's considerable muscles slid into his own. Bones cracked and skin stretched as powerful biceps and firm forearms swelled with the invasion, as his father's hands slipped into his own like two tight gloves. His meaty fingers cracked under their own volition, as his father flexed his new triceps.
"Da... Dad? Oh fuck, Roc! It's your turn now, huh, bro?" Carlo's chipper voice cut through the wet sloshing as his father stepped forward, shoving his huge sweaty feet forward into Rocco's heels, immediately swelling to fit his size 14 boats. His father's ripe foot sweat started to pour from his soles while his calves started to sink in as well. "Feels great, right? I mean look at me? Dad promised a rockin' bod, and I mean, fuck! What guy is gonna turn me down now?" Rocco continued his deep breaths, trying to ignore his brother's bizarrely normal demeanor.
"Boy, you remember what your dad taught you. Take control, and fuck hard. They'll be beggin' for that cock." As the words left his father's mouth, he thrust his groin against Rocco's rear, letting his son's skin wrap around his thick ass as he slid his beer can dick into the sheath of his boy's- quickly swelling thick and musky as his balls grew into the size of clementines.
"Roc, just wait. Dad's gonna take good care of you. We're closer than ever, right pop?" His father's hard, hairy torso sank quickly into Rocco, his back expanding as his body fully enveloped his father up to their necks. Massive, juicy pecs and washboard abs pressed against his taut skin, and sputterings of the old man's hair started to sprout across his legs, arms, and chest. Rocco looked down at his massive body, no longer under his control, inflated with his father's stature. He could feel the scratchy scruff of the old man's beard against the nape of his neck.
"Alright, boy. Let me just slide..." He felt his father's nose press against the back of his head, and as it sank in, his vision became fuzzy. "Right..." His neck bulged and stretched, his jaw clenched and sharpened. "On..." His hair grew thick and messy, his eyebrows fuller and lower. As the last of his head was swallowed by the back of Rocco's head, a final crack of his neck and a slow exhale signaled that Rocco had already sank into the recesses of his mind. Facial hair sprouted across his chiseled jawline, as he smiled his pearly white teeth. "In." His father's gravelly tone now bellowed deep from within. He pushed himself off the wall, stretching his now 6'3" body, dripping in his old man's fragrant sweat. Turning to Carlo, he raised his eyebrow.
"Alright, boy. Let's go get some ass."
---
"Yeah, this is my brother's place, we'll be alone here. Don't you worry!" Carlo led the couple into Rocco's apartment, the boyfriend ogling his juicy ass as they walked inside. "Yeah, he's in the other room. This way." Carlo smiled as he threw his arm around the duo, the woman blushing as she turned to him.
"You sure he's down for this?" Carlo only smirked as he opened the door to the bedroom, revealing 'Rocco' in all his glory, swiping through the endless supply of thirsty messages on his Taimi. The couple's jaws dropped at the very sight of him, fresh from the gym, smelling of a locker room right after a basketball tournament.
"Oh wow... Uh, Hi there... I'm Victoria and this is Ollie..." 'Rocco' barely looked up from his phone, picking up his ripe gym shoe and socks, and tossing them to Ollie.
"Sniff, boy. When you're done with that, you can do the same for my brother." The boyfriend eagerly started to huff the stinking sock, moaning in pleasure as he did. "And you..." He put his phone down onto the table, turning to Victoria with a wry smirk. "Come show daddy some love."
#male possession#male transformation#body transformation#original#transformation#jockification#musk#body possession#musky#father to son#familial transformation#familial possession#muscle tf#male tf#male merging#merging#body merging#bisexual#gay to straight
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Sawuwa with reader who finally gets their own body and immediately gets carried away princess style PLEEEEASE 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺
SAWuWa Headcanon pt. 5.1 .ೃ࿔*:･
requested!
characters: Rover, Jiyan (I keep forgetting its Jiyan not Jinyan--), Scar, I'll add more characters soon.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
Rover.ᐟ
takes place presumably sometime after chapter 1/patch 1 story.
➥ other than you, Rover is probably one of the most happiest person in Sol-III now that you got your own body!
➥ because honestly, they had a rough time partly sharing their body with you, it was like not having any privacy! they could hear your thoughts, and you could hear theirs. They were like the anchor to your disembodied soul that either floated around nearby or was in your body like an imaginary voice in the head.
➥ but despite the rough bumps you started off with the main character, you two became very close, forcibly perhaps with being forced to be so close to each other, but still, genuinely close.
➥ so when you were a bit disoriented having your own body they easily picked you up in a princess carry with a bright smile on their face.
➥ "it's finally nice to see you in solid form." they remarked with a chuckle.
➥ feeling a bit weak you were still able to respond, "you don't have to carry me y'know" your voice was soft as you stared at their piercing golden orbs as if the blood of the gods spilled to create such beautiful eyes.
➥ the Rover hummed thoughtfully "I know, just want to."
➥ some part of them knew they'd miss being so close to you.
➥ "can't believe I have my own body, now I have to walk all over the place like you." you scrunched up your nose in annoyance at the thought. Rover laughed at your musings, that was the first thing you were worried about after getting your own body?
➥ "you're worried about the journey but not the tacet discords?" they pointed out and you flailed your arms in frustration "ugh you're right!"
➥ "just stick with me and I'll protect you" they said holding you tighter.
Jiyan.ᐟ
takes place when you end up getting separated with the Rover and ended up getting your own body. probably around the time when Rover was building that huge gun thingy to get close to the threnodian.
➥ The minute you are forcibly separated from the Rover, no longer a specter, no longer a voice with no body to its name, the first one who is over their shock would be General Jiyan.
➥ you feel a bit disoriented, your body swaying as you felt dizzy, your body leaned a bit too far in one direction and suddenly you find yourself falling.
➥ oh but don't worry! well toned arms wrapped themselves around you preventing any injuries.
➥ "Thank you" you managed to say as you steadied yourself, his arms no longer enveloped you but a hand was on your shoulder instead.
➥ "It is no problem." he curtly replied "you seem to be disoriented, it seems that getting your own body has exhausted you." his brows furrowed as the more doctor and medic side of him appeared.
➥ After a bit of silence on his side, he opened his mouth only to offer assistance "would you like me to carry you to the medics? or perhaps the Rover?" ah that's right, you got separated.. you shook your head despite how tempting the offer was, you couldn't take advantage of the general. "no it's okay, you're hurt, I can endure it until I meet with the others again."
➥ but Jiyan wouldn't take no for an answer, "are you doubting my strength?" he asked amused as he crossed his arms, flexing his muscles. You gulped shaking your head fervently 'no'
➥ and that's how you ended up in his arms, perhaps Jiyan was right that you needed to be carried. You find your eyelids grew heavy as you leaned on his chest.
Scar.ᐟ
tw: kidnapping? (depends whether you don't want him to take you or not.)
takes place during the awakening of the threnodian.
➥ Scar would watch (stalk) you and Rover after your first encounter, the jail of Jinzhou wasn't enough to stop him.
➥ with the whole fuss of the Threnodian's awakening being expedited he was able to easily slip out.
➥ course he would have preferred to have fight his way out of the place and cause havor like the maniac he is, he decided it would be quicker to slip out so he could get to you and Rover quicker.
➥ so when he arrived to find you, rover and jinyan, he was pleasantly shock to find you in the middle of getting your body.
➥ the powerful frequencies you let off and the reverberations that flowed through after had him excited!
➥ The general and the rover were preoccupied with defending you from the gathering TD's that were attracted to your raw power left them distracted, letting him easily close the distance between you.
➥ you look at the palm of your hands, shock as you truly had a physical body. and yet you were unable to savor it as you could hear a familiar voice.
➥ one dripping with charisma and an underlying tone of insanity. "Scar" you turned to find him walking closer and closer to you, you were shock considered he wasn't supposed to appear in this part of the story since canonically he was in jail at this moment.
➥ "it's nice to see you again little lamb, or should I say bambi?" he tilted his head, an amused smile on his face as he looked at you up and down, his heterochromia eyes settling on your legs.
➥ you followed his stare to realized your legs were shaking, probably being barely able to stand as you were. Your cheeks quickly turned red in embarrassment, "I have a name you know" you hissed and ended with a pout.
➥ you turned around trying to find Jiyan, Rover or anybody to help you. As much as you liked Scar and doted on him every chance you got, you felt vulnerable and you were unsure of his motives regarding you.
➥ "Aw come on little lamb, won't you please pay attention to me?" you jolted to find him right behind you, face near your ears as you could practically feel his breath fanning you. He had an adorable pout on his face, almost looking like a kicked puppy.
➥ before you could reply a sound resembling a growl got your attention as you both turned to find tacet discords approaching you.
➥ as much as Scar liked fighting, and wasn't too afraid of tacet discords he clicked his tongue annoyed "I won't let our little date get interrupted again." he declared as he bent down, and before you could object, he carried you in his arms.
➥ "hey- where are you taking me?!" you yelled as he began moving, dodging attacks sent at him by the tacet discords who wanted you. Scar merely laughed "hold on tight!" and you did, wrapping your arms around his neck as he used his legs to either run, dodge or attack.
➥ boy Rover and Jiyan will be in for a shock when they find you gone.
#fuji-sen#fuji-sen everything#fuji-sen works#wuwa scar x you#wuwa scar#wuwa rover#wuwa jiyan#wuwa jiyan x reader#scar x reader#rover x reader#wuwa fic#wuwa headcanon#wuthering waves#wuthering waves fic#wuthering waves x reader#wuthering waves headcanon#reader insert#wuthering waves sagau#wuthering waves x you#wuthering waves x y/n#fuji-sen works sawuwa#sawuwa x you#sawuwa x reader#sawuwa
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Back on my hurt/comfort bullshit. 🤘 Dream has bad associations with oral sex. It was always treated as something he had to do as a punishment or something- like if he got into a fight with his partner, he was expected to suck them off as an “apology” and stuff like that. And going down on him was always treated like the worst thing in the world of course, so why would he want to subject his partner to that? So with Hob he’s reluctant to let him get his face between his legs, because in Dream’s head it’s like, well Hob hasn’t done anything wrong, so why would Dream “””make””” him do that? It’s hard for him to imagine giving oral as something that can be pleasurable.
And then, on Hob’s birthday, he nearly BEGS Dream to let him eat him out, big puppy eyes and batting his eyelashes, “pretty pretty please let me eat you out 🥺 it’s my birthday 🥺 can I please, as a gift to me?” (he would never pressure Dream if he thought Dream really didn’t want to, and if he said no he’d back off, but he’s pieced together that Dream just has a messed up view on it)
Dream hesitantly agrees, and Hob basically throws himself at Dream’s crotch mouth-first. Dream nearly loses his mind because it feels so good, but also because it’s impossible not to notice that Hob is having the time of his life, he comes in his pants TWICE he’s having such a good time tasting Dream
Suddenly Dream thinks maybe going down on Hob might be something he could actually enjoy too, if he lets himself. Either way, he’s eager to try. If Hob can get it up again, that is.
-🦇
Oh this is extremely sweet. Dream having to be persuaded that Hob isn't lying, he does really really want to do it, please please please - I can imagine Dream nervously spreading his legs and squeezing his eyes shut, thinking that its all going to go horribly wrong -
Witnessing Hob’s pleasure is kind of life changing, actually. Its quite extraordinary to see the way his eyes brighten, his muscles relax, and he simply indulges himself. His hands slip around Dream’s thighs, his fingers grip into his skin and there'll probably be bruises tomorrow - Dream hopes there'll be bruises, holy fuck.
And the sounds that Hob makes are just obscene. Sucking, slurping wet sounds that would be gross in any other circumstance. He gets Dream’s fluids all over his face, at one point he just grinds his face into Dream’s crotch and his nose catches on all the right places, he's got precum smeared in his eyebrow and it's just so unhinged and so good. Dream’s view of oral is totally reframed. He notices along the line that Hob is actually humping the floor because he's so needy - at that point, Dream finally completely believes that he is having a good time. And he relaxes enough to realise that he is also having a really good time 😏
After that first session, Dream practically begs Hob to coach him on oral sex techniques, and although Hob is exhausted (and not entirely sure he can make his dick work again) he can't resist teaching Dream the finer points of blowjob-giving. Dream is an eager student, and poor Hob certainly gets his best birthday present ever... passing out from overstimulation as Dream sucks him off, determined to perfect his new skill <3
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Could you do a Winchester sister fic about her having a bad asthma attack and not being able to breathe and the boys get all scared
Breathe
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Note: First off i want to apologise for taking forever to write this. or anything. but we're back!
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Asthma attack.
Honestly not too sure how I feel about this one….but it’s my first time writing in weeks so pls bear with.
⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Your fist collided with the Demon’s face as you swung around to face her. If the insistent throbbing in your hand wasn’t an indicator of how hard you had hit her, the stream of dark droplets falling from her nose, and the grunt she made as she went careening sideways were. She bounced back quickly though. Much quicker than you would have liked. She scowled, her black eyes narrowing as you swung a fist back in retaliation forcing you to lean back uncomfortably on your heels. You heard a clatter to your left as an array of cutlery went flying across the floor as Sam managed to tackle the demon he was dealing with. The woman in front of you glared at you with malice as she heard her counterpart go down. With a little shrug, and a petty smirk, you continued to dance around her, trying to get a good stab at her with your angel blade.
When you heard Dean breathe out a sigh of relief as he managed to deal with the latter of the ones he had been fighting, you didn’t allow yourself to get distracted and keep your focus on her. Distraction is a hunters number one enemy. But you can feel yourself getting tired. You can feel the burn in your muscles and the ache in your lungs as it grows harder and harder to suck air into them.
But then she made a mistake: She twisted to the side, raising her arm to swing a left hook, but left her right side open. It gave you the perfect opportunity, and you plunged the demon knife into her. She lit up in a spark of yellow before falling to the ground.
It was straight after that that everything sort of…hit you. Now that you weren’t focused on ‘not-dying’, the tightness in your chest was more noticeable. And that made you panic. And of course, that made everything much worse. Clutching one hand to your chest and the other against the wall, you tried to get in another breath, only for it to feel as though it had been cut short. When Sam came through the door, his self-accomplished grin was cut short as he saw you struggling to breathe.
“Hey, Hey.” Sam rushed over to you, his hand resting on your shoulder as you looked up at him, wide-eyes and breathing in short, frantic gasps. “Hey. Calm down. You’re fine. Breathe”
You try to listen to Sam. Try to get your lungs to open up and to breathe normally. But they are stubborn and seem to do the exact opposite.
Sam’s heart seems to break a little when you look up at him. “Where’s your inhaler?”
You blink. Your chest heaves. “Car-”
Your older brother curses mentally, and you think that he calls out to Dean, because he’s rounding the corner one second and is hovering above you the next.
“Dean…her inhaler. It’s in the car. Side pocket.” Sam tells his older brother, his tone firm and authoritative. Dean nodding, his hair falling over his eyes as he scrambles back out of the house, swerving around the fallen demons to get to the car as quickly as he can.
Sam’s hands remain on your shoulders. His large hands take up most of your shoulder as they rest on the coloured flannel of your shirt. They’re calloused and rough, but seem to act almost as a safety blanket keeping you grounded. He shifts one of them to your chin, pinching it gently between his thumb and his index finger as he lifts up your chin. His irises seem to shift in the light as he gets you to look at him. Hazel brown, then green and back to hazel again. They’re glossy, concerned, but hold a sense of ease. Protectiveness.
“You’re okay, Kiddo. Just breathe. Dean will be back any second now.” Sam reassures, although he is unsure if he’s trying to reassure you or himself more. He’s panicking. And, he's beginning to grow antsy because Dean has yet to return from the car which he parked so impossibly far away. Damn stealth.
An impossible amount of time later less than a minute Dean comes skidding to a halt, inhaler in hand. Dean has already shaken it and removed the cap, so he fumbles around to get it in your hand. Once your fingers wrap around the plastic your brain goes into autopilot. The plastic is quickly brought to your lips and the medicine pumped into your lungs as you inhale deeply. It doesn’t take long for the medicine to work its magic. You feel the burn in your lungs subside slightly, and a flood of air comes rushing into your lungs as you breathe deeply, leaning against the wall as you collect yourself, taking a moment to yourself.
Dean raises a hand towards you, brushing the hair out of your face. “You okay sweetheart?”
“I……” You take another deep breath. “Yea. sorry.”
“No need to apologise, kid.” Dean says “As long as you’re alright.”
“I’m fine.” you say, taking one last puff of the inhaler before replacing the cap and securing it in your pocket.
“You have seriously got to start remembering to bring that with you.” Sam reprimands, always the sensible one.
You sigh. “I know. But it’s so annoying to carry around.”
“We know it is, sweetheart, but you kind of need it”
“I know…..”
“So you’ll bring it with you?”
“No promises.”
Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. He swears you give him more and more grey hairs everyday. You just grin up at him and he can’t help but shake his head affectionately at your stubbornness.
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
SPN TAGS:
@defonotashleyr @aestheticdaisies @xxrougefangxx
@hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale @harleycao
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
#supernatural x reader#supernatural x sister reader#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x sister reader#dean winchester x little sister reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x little sister reader#sam winchester x sister reader
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You are on a roll with posting XD
Love how koba is his own greatest problem. Can't even get his shit together to realize he likes this human, and it's not his stomach rejecting food. That's called ✨️love✨️, my boy, the butterflys are out for youuuu koba. I just adore how you wrote him watching the reader sleep because he thinks we are being stupid being out in the open and vulnerable.
Ceaser probably apologizes to Wills Ghost daily because damn dealing with koba and kobas feelings must wear him down. Someone get this ape king a herbal drink or smoke, and a nap before he just throws both of them into a hut to face their fears of feelings
Also, i can not wait for anaya to get some personal lovin too, he deserves it after proximus problematic self 🥲😭
Please take solace in my guilty pleasure idea thank u i love you
Like, maybe one day when you're out with Ceasar's closest council on a hunting endeavor ( You requested to go, knowing they often stumbled upon human buildings and remnants and you wanted to see what you could salvage as far as clothing, toiletries, etc ).
Instead, you find your self face to face with a gun. A human stood on the other end, obviously not impressed that you had drifted onto what they deemed to be their territory. You tried to back off, holding your hands up defensively and muttering under your breath, "I just want to leave. Can-can you not point that thing at me?" You're bargaining with them that you're not a threat and you don't want to steal anything but man - Did the Simian Flu take away humanity's ability to be empathetic because despite your words, despite how frail they were coming out of your mind, the ricochetting of the gun-cocking encapsulated your entire being.
You were going to die. Any no one else was around to witness other than the maniac human in front of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for the worst knowing they'd just shoot you if you took off running.
Instead? In a rather large blur of events, the human in front of you were grasped by a dark figure, a few shoots were taken but the gun was yanked out of their grasp and thrown overboard, deep into the woods to be forgotten, their arm literally breaking to the point where the forearm bone was protruding from the muscles and skin before the sounds of fists hitting flesh rounded into your ears. Blinking, you were frantic to get yourself back on your feet and scrambled rather pathetically until the Ape responsible for the carnage dropped right in front of you. Eyes widening at the Bonobo in front of you, he just gives you a twisted smile.
He definitely had you convinced he just did what he did because he liked it and thought all humans deserved that. He did it to scare you, to show you that he was more than capable of taking your frail little life into his hand and crushing it into oblivion.
You're left mildly shell-shocked as Caesar and company came into view, looking at Koba standing over you menacingly, the human who had threatened you - beaten to an unrecognizable heap behind him.
Caesar asks if you're alright, but your eyes are so transfixed on Koba. The realization dawning on you that he could have very well killed you, but only killed what he deemed a necessary threat in the moment.
Surely, given the chance he would kill you. Right?
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a/n: me n my best baby @earth222abi were talking about this on tiktok and I js had to form a post 🧘🏻♀️
warnings: none, headcanons rly
this man can and will come home with random strays at any given moment. dogs, cats, you name it, hes brought it back to his canal boat. including a "hamster" (it was a fucking mouse)
cat distribution system LOVES him. "don' mind these, they jus' a couple o' squatters" and its 4 cats sleeping on his floor, table, bed and worktop living their best lives. if he doesn't see a "regular" as he calls them, on a boring patrol night he'll search for them in usual places because he's so worried.
I think he permanently adopted a stray blue staffy & he just annoys TF outta that poor dawg cuz he loves it. (like this)
can, will & does send you those tiktoks he gets on his fyp with 2 likes of some old tosser on their 2014 android and says "litch me". also sends those tiktoks where its like "you belong to me😈😈" and he fully is just an absolute dickhead with annoying you. (abi damn near killed me for sending those tiktoks)
BUT if you do it back n call this man kitten or sum fucking shit he WILL stare at you sooooo fed up. "only funny when I do it." alr double standards.
carves your initials into his guitar.
fully steals feminine hygiene products for you if you're afab, binders & chest tape if ur ftm, what u want, this man gets. fuck big businesses and that.
loves when you two wander around town at xmas time when theres all those little stalls up.
he pokes ur waist. everytime he sees an opportunity, done. snorts to himself when you yelp.
....he loves a good bubble bath I'm sorry. being spiderman means having achey muscles all the live long day so if you run him a nice bubble bath this man will love you for the rest of his damn life. (even though he would either way.)
on that subject, he too gangly for a shower, the shower doesn't go high enough so he either hunches or uses his webs to put it higher (and that pisses u off if ur shorter) and his knobbly ahh knees poke out the bath sometimes but he too busy in his world to gaf. (you're sat on the toilet watching him and just giggling ur ass off)
he loves sewing. his "nanny" definitely taught him when he was just a lil geezer which is how he has all his patches and badges on his clothes, he put them on himself! only sews in the way his grandmother showed him to honour her, and refuses point blank to do it any other way, even if they're easier/sturdier. trust in great mrs brown.
loves picking you literal weeds out the ground with some daisies and presenting them like they're a 10/10 bouquet with a FAT lopsided grin on his face.
if you yawn infront of him I feel like sometimes he'll just blow air into your mouth briefly before carrying on with his business. idk. he's just got such annoying older brother energy and I feel like that's js what he'd do.
thanks for coming to my ted talk!
© WEBDOLLZZ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
#chatting ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹#⋆₊˚⊹dollies posts#hobie spiderverse#hobie brown spider punk#hobie brown x reader#hobie smut#hobie x reader#hobie brown smut#hobie brown#hobie brown headcanons#hobie brown across the spiderverse#hobie brown thought
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PENITENCE
• feeling or showing sorrow and regret for having done wrong.
Synopsis: Satoru Gojo’s demise lead him into a heart wrenching dream-like state, where all he can see is you. You and him. Him and you. People he’s lost, people he could have met.
Satoru Gojo x fem!reader, angst, mention of slight gore with Satorus injuries, Silly drabble cause i was bored, not my best work 😝
Satoru’s eyes jolt open to his heart racing, and he swears it never beat this fast before. His body feels like it weighs million and millions of pounds. He plants his hands on the ground, sensing fine grains filtering in through his fingers as he looks down, hands sinking in fine sand.
His head is spinning, his mind feels like a static. It’s like his nerves are just firing off whenever they see fit. He stands up, brushing the sand off his torso as he looks down. His shirt is torn, his stomach is a mess of blood and guts he really doesn’t wish to look at. He looks back at the sand, noticing the indent of his shape, the blood splattered across the silhouette, a menacingly sharp line of blood over his waist is the only indication of his injury.
He should have bled out. He died.
Satoru’s torso feels like it’s going to fall apart—Like some strange force is keeping him in one piece. This is all so surreal, Satoru knows it’s not reality. Its a twisted looking world, so sweet looking it makes him want to shut his eyes and ignore how much he wishes to stay. This is most definitely a dream, or the afterlife, or both. Has he really crossed to the other side to be met with just a this?
He observes the sigh of a pretty beach before him. Golden sand, a nice pink sky, calm oceans, it’s picturesque. Like a painting. He stumbles forward, trying to keep himself steady as each footstep sinks into the sand. He walks normally, not feeling any pain or discomfort. None of those stings in his lower back, not an ache in his muscles, nothing.
He walks, not seeing any difference in his surroundings. He may have zoned out a few steps in, each step so agonizingly boring he may die from that instead of the injury present on his body.
“‘Toru!” Satoru stops abruptly, eyes blown wide as he hears a voice. Your voice. You giggle so sweetly, and he looks around frantically to search for you. Any glimpse of you could make him move forward, anything to prove you’re there. Its empty, and he feels himself die a little. Such a pretty beach turned so ugly and wretched in your absence. Where the hell are you? Why won’t you run to him? He dying, for gods sake!
“Toru! Come back, don’t go yet!” Your voice speaks up, echoing in his brain as he picks up the pace, trying to search for you. Why do you sound so happy? You shouldn’t be, it’s not the right time. Satoru adores your joy, but at the sight of him split in half, you would not be giggling and calling his name. You’d be in shambles, heartbroken.
His eyes catch a glimpse of something, someone in the water. Himself? He watches his own body rise from the waves, his skin tinted pink on his shoulders, in swimming trunks and sunglasses. Sunburnt to a crisp, as usual. “Coming—“ he runs over to the shore, and Satoru stands there stunned.
What can he make of this, he doesn’t know. This other Satoru is him, and he knows it, he feels it. He’s an image in his dream. Satoru never believed himself to be so arrogant as to dream of himself all sexy coming out of the water, thats not what’s going on.
He watched the figment of himself run, and the beach seems endless until everything comes full circle. You’re on the beach towel, in your bathing suit as you chide at the sunburnt Satoru for being careless, pinching his cheek. You push him down, sitting behind him as you gently spread sunscreen on his shoulders.
Satorus breath hitches, knees feeling weak as he watches the sight in front of him. This must be hell, he’s made up his mind. Is his afterlife just him having to watch another version of himself happily in your care? it cuts him to the core.
“Y/n!” He calls out, feeling an unfamiliar throb in his abdomen. He forgets he’s dead, forgets that soon this dream, as beautiful as it is, in a twisted way, shall end. And hell fall into a twisted abyss, a cold dark sea, having failed at his duty. At being the strongest, at protecting people.
He wonders if this is karma, punishing him for his actions. Maybe in another universe, he’s as happy as the sunburnt version of him is. Laughing, smiling, spending time with you. Maybe these are versions of himself, those that didn’t die, those that got to live life to the fullest.
Your lack of a response is noted, and he continues walking, ignoring the sight as he moves forward, trying not to look back. Maybe the universe is cursing him for dying, showing him what he could have had. It feels like hes walking through millions of possibilities, each hurting just as much as the last. He walks through beaches and bedrooms, fields of flowers, wedding halls, family homes.
Another jolt of pain hits him, and he hears your voice again. He was walking trying to ignore everything, trying to power through his he sights and not make himself feel guilty for dying. He looks down, noticing bland grey tiles as your voice hits him again. So painfully beautiful.
“‘Toru, wanna hold her?”
Satoru can’t bear to look, he can’t. Seeing a possibility of that with you, its not possible. He doesn’t want to die like this, he wanted it to be peacful, filled with nothing but positive thoughts. But the ache in his heart is more than enough as he turns his head, screwing his eyes shut as he takes in a shaky breath.
He watches himself hold your baby, tears streaming down his own face as you comfort him best you can. Your daughter holds the dream-Satorus finger, fast asleep, swaddled in a pretty pink blanket. The real Satoru walks forward, staring down at the bundle of joy as another jolt hits him.
He reaches down to try and touch her, maybe get a glimpse of what could have been. Shes cute, red as a tomato, wailing like an ambulance. But she was yours, she’s yours. And he curses himself for not actually being able to experience this, envious of something that isn’t even real. His hand phases through the baby like he’s a ghost, and Satoru recoils at having his hand in your babies face. This isn’t where his place is. This is the vision of father Satoru and his baby, the mother of the little Gojo right beside him. He can’t live in their life, he can’t be the sobbing Satoru with a daughter in his arms.
Satoru steps back, trying to calm his own breathing as he begins walking again, the vision of the hospital room fading. So many versions of you two flash around him, his surroundings changing each time.
He sees more an more, from seeing Geto and Shoko, to you holding little Megumi when his leg broke as careless teenagers. To getting weird stares when you bought him clothes because people thought you were teen parents. All of it makes Satoru coil up in utter despair. He may be the strongest, but he doesn’t want to die!
He forgets how long hes been walking, a jolt of pain hitting him as he stops. A breeze washes over him, and he finds himself in a large field of white roses. The pain is getting to him, and he feels like hes been ripped apart. He has been, but thats besides the point.
He stops, eyes glued to ground. He feels as if he can see his own reflection, the ground almost mirror-like. He can’t begin to count how many lashes and gashes are on his body, the way his entire torso feels like its being held on by a thread.
would he have done things differently if he knew? Would he have joined Suguru? Made sure Haibara didn’t die? Kill Toji before he killed Riko? Destory the ugly stich faced cursed before he set Nanami ablaze?
Would he have married you if he knew he’d die? No, he wouldn’t.
As if the Satoru Gojo would leave you a widow at 27.
Would you look pretty in a wedding dress? Silly question, of course you would.
Suguru would be his best man.
Megumi would bring you your rings.
And he’d cry, he’d cry super ugly, fat tears.
But he can’t, can’t think of what else he’d do after that as he feels his body hit hard ground, feeling his body slide apart like a cartoon. This is the real world, isn’t it? Dreams don’t last forever.
His legs are gone, all he can see is the sky is a flicker of the sky, blurry and dim. Its clear, blue as his eyes. He feels warm, disgustingly at ease. He’s leaving people behind, but at last, he’s resting.
#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#gojo angst#Afterlife#not my best work sorry yall
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Delusional/Depressed!John Price X AFAB!Reader
CW: Death, Suicide, Alcohol, Neglect (if I’m missing anything else let me know)
John Price was a respected, strong and honest captain, rookies always looked up to him and his team. Even if at times morally challenging decisions had to be made they knew he would have everyone’s back, he was a ride and die kinda guy. That’s what you loved about him, cherished, with more and more people working with the team the responsibility out weighed him and you were always more than welcoming when he would come to your bed late in the night. Your arms and warmth melting away his stress, anxiety and loneliness. “I’ll always be here for you my love.” You would whisper into his ear, rubbing his muscles, and combing your fingers through his hair.
As the last few months dragged on, you could see the toll of work on your lover, the death of rookies from missions were piling up and slowly killing him. Having to write and sign KIA forms for families you would sit near by as he chain smoked through his cigars and chugged any alcohol he could get his hands on.
Laying a gentle hand on his shoulder you would try to pull him back, “My love, please, come back to me?” Looking up as the door would open, Simon, John’s best, his lieutenant, his friend, walked in sighing.
“Aie, come on captain.” His voice is low and soft as can be, movements slow as if he was approaching a bomb that could go off at the slightest vibration.
“Leave us be.”
“Sir-“
John turned fully wrapping his arms around your waist trying to breathe you in, trying to hide the tears that ran down and soaked his beard. Looking to Simon mournfully you waited as he made his way around the desk prying John out of his chair, catching the fists that tried to push him away. “Damnit, leave us alone.”
“You need to get to bed.” Simon stated, hardening up a bit, man handling his captain all the way to his room. “Just need to sleep it off, ya?” Once near the bed John roughly pushed Simon to the door.
“Fucking hell , fine just get out.” Simon watched as John tucked into bed curling around you like a ball, shielding himself and you from the world. Closing the door Simon could hear the broken sobs, John saying your name and why, why couldn’t he be better.
As the days dragged so did John’s mind, quick checks over his shoulders had you and the rest of the team worried. Unknown to the rest of you, the long nights and alcohol worked his nerves, he swears he was seeing the rookies, clothes blood soaked, hoarse voices asking if their work was done. He felt lost, every corner more and more blocked him, even the living, asking, requesting to join him on the next mission.
Closing himself in your room, which for a while he’s used as his own and no one questions. Always tucking you into himself before his hands slowly wondered around your body, taking in every in, mind blanking as you turn and remove your clothes straddling him kissing his cheeks, nose, lips and neck trailing down. Lifting his hips as you pulled his pants off, he groaned looking down, your sweet smile making his stomach twist into knots. As the two of you got lost in each other, John couldn't stop the swell of pain and agony in his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut he huffed as he felt a few rogue tears streak down his cheeks, "My love, what's wrong?" His fingers tighten around your waist, grip bruising, "Talk to me honey."
"Don't leave me." Looking up at you, your heart would break. It's not the first time he's broken down, scared of you disappearing, begging you to stay with him. "I can't live without you, your the air that inflates my lungs, blood in my veins, every thought that passes through my brain." Cupping your cheek as you used your thumbs to swipe at tears that continued to fall, "You're the light that makes my soul shine, vibrate and feel complete. There's nothing but you. Please. Don't leave me."
"I will always be here, there's no where I would go without you, my love." You whispered, grinding down, "I'm yours, always and forever." Both of you breathed into the other, "I'll never leave you."
Your room and arms will always be his safe place, so he would hide for as long as he could till the next job showed its unforgiving face. At one point brought some relief to just do something now brought anxiety and fear. Who was he going to loose this time, what family was going to read his name and curse him 1,000’s of miles away. What face was going to be added to his daily delusions in the halls and his office.
Setting out, John grew irritable and anxious as the team and a few unlucky rookies approached drop off. Your hand never left his, fingers tight intertwined in his lap, leg bouncing, and eyes darting. He could already feel the cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as he refused to look at or answer any of the rookies, Johnny and Kyle taking the lead on directing the new blood, advising them what to expect.
Simon watched John intently, checking where John would look to, also seeing but nothing being there. Mostly his eyes stayed on you, the soothing circular motion of your thumb on the pulse of his wrist kept his breathing under control.
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
“Stay low, they’ve got us surrounded.” John repeated over the walkies glaring at a rookie that Johnny just had to pull back as a round was shot at where they were just standing. Cursing under his breath he looked around, wondering where you had gone before his heart nearly stopped as he saw you get shot in the leg as you moved spots. Panicking he bolted for you dragging you behind some cargo, “Damnit Y/N what were you thinking?!”
“What?”
“I can’t loose you.” He said frantically looking around spotting Simon. “Get Y/N out of here, she’s shot!” Simon kneeled down looking between the two eyes saying everything, confusion and worry. “Now lieutenant!”
“But-“ before anything could be said Simon had picked them up and with John making cover, made sure everyone got out and to the Ronda Vue point. The whole way everyone was quiet, except for John cursing under his breath for Y/N and why she would put herself in harms way.
Before he could get too carried away Kyle bumped shoulders with him, "Sir, everyone's okay, relax." Jaw clenching, John glared forward at Simon's back.
"They're saying he was referring to private Williams as Y/n, even talking to himself." An officer said looking over to John who stared blankly away from everyone.
"He's fine." Simon's gruff voice waver, also looking to his captain he was trying to help him save face but the way he looked truly wasn't backing his statement.
"There's reports him always drinking, always talking to himself. Yet you say he's fine lieutenant?"
"John?" He looked slowly to you.
"We know it's been 2 years sinc-"
"So then cut him some slack." Kyle said trying to step in front of his captain.
"My love." Your voice was a broken hoarse whisper.
"There was a lot of doubt a year and half ago when he came back on if he should, we only looked the other way out of respect but this is far enough."
John felt his heart sinking, looking over you, he wanted to throw up, your shirt was darkening quickly with your blood, skin paling in comparison. "John."
He couldn't think, there was too much gun fire to think of a safe escape. 3 privates were already gunned down, bodies left behind in order to save themselves, their faces burned to his brain for later hauntings. Frantically he looked around for you, unable to even catch a glimpse of you he tried sneaking around to find you, an unsettling feeling pitting in his stomach. "No." he whispered, no longer staying low rather rushing in every direction that he can think of to find you.
"JOHN!"
Before he could see you, he was pushed to the ground when after 4 shots, all firing stopped. A pin could drop and it would echo in the building. Looking up his blood ran cold as you turned, eyes just as wide looking down at him, blood was starting to spread on your chest, "John?" Taking one step to him, you collapsed, making John scramble to you, ears ringing as his vision blurred.
"No, no, no." Pressing his hands into your chest he panicked, eyes unable to focus on one part of you, looking into your eyes, he broke down, "Don't you fucking die." Tears fell, splashing onto your cheek.
Reaching your hand up to his cheek you wiped a few tears, "I'm sorry my love."
"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Looking up as footsteps approached, he looked at the team. "Give me your damn bags!"
"Honey, look at me." Your voice was breaking.
"Just save your energy, stop trying to fucking talk." He said snatching the bandages from Kyle pushing where ever blood would pool.
"I love you John."
"Stop."
"Don't...D-" Gasping your eyes teared up, hand reaching for his wrist, "Don't....I don't want to leave."
"Then don't." He whispered looking down at you, your scared face burned now into his brain.
"John." Gasping out one last time, your grip loosened on his wrist before you frantically looked to the guys and then.......
"Y/N?" ..... "Dear?" .... "Don't leave me.... please?" Pulling you up and hugging you tightly against his chest he started panting, grabbing your wrist, "I can't live without you." He whispered into your hair. He cried, sitting there with you, the guys silent around him, Kyle wiping a few tears as well as Johnny as Simon tried to blink away the few that tried to escape.
---
When your body was shipped back home, Simon, Kyle and Johnny went with John to his house, where they finally saw your shared home and land. You were buried under your guys favorite tree. Where you guys first kissed, confessed your feelings, made plans for your future, wedding, family, retirement. Now, it's where you would lay, John was frozen and numb as you were lowered into the ground, it was just him, Simon, Johnny, Kyle, Nikolai, Alex, Alejandro, Rudy, Kate and her wife. They all stayed as dirt was poured over your casket, quiet and unmoving as John quietly cried, before turning his back after glaring at your tomb stone.
In smaller print in the corner of your tomb stone, was written of the baby that was inside you. When he was told that you had been pregnant, the guys had never seen him lose control like he had in the morgue, flipping things, throwing an breaking anything he could. Simon ordered the mortician to leave and give them a moment, Kyle and Johnny tried to grab and stop John but he pushed them away, knocking Johnny flat on his ass as he screamed.
"That's supposed to be me god damnit! ME! I should be fucking laying there! FuCk!!!" Tears streamed down his face, he choked as he turned and looked at you, why'd you have to look so peaceful? Grabbing tightly onto your hand he fell hard onto his knees, the pain numbed as he rested his hand on your stomach, "I should be laying here, not you. Why the fuck couldn't you just let me take those bullets? You could have our baby, could've had a small part of me to stay with you.....You left me nothing." His knuckles turned white from his grip, the coldness of your hand a contrast from the heat of his.
Feeling a few hands grab onto his shoulders he tensed, the silence deafening but appreciated, he didn't want their pity words. They all stayed that night, sitting outside with him, few old stories told of you. How they met you, what they thought, their favorite memories, all just a muffled sound to John as he glared at the tree. Part of him wanted to burn the thing to the ground along with the house and himself, but knew how sad you would be, the knowledge of your pain of him doing that out weighing his self hating desire. The next day every but Simon, Johnny and Kyle left, telling John if he needed anything to call them. The following few days John was quiet, mostly kind of drinking here and there but not saying a word even when the others would talk to him.
"I don't need to be babysat." He grumbled, sitting in the living room in his chair looking at yours. Kyle had made the small mistake the day that the other left to sit there, John had gone absolutely ballistic like he had in the morgue but on Kyle, since then, no one went near it except for John to adjust your favorite blanket and flush your pillow. "You lot can go home."
"If you want us to go, we will." Kyle said knocking one knuckle against the wall lightly, not really trusting to leave him alone but everyone needs to mourn in their own way and he can only pray that his captain won't do anything stupid.
"Then go." Cut short and simple, he felt suffocated and wanted to shoot them all if they didn't leave him be. As they got into their own collective vehicles, John went back into the house, doing a slow walk through before he grabbed every last bottle of liquor in the house and sat in your chair and drank everything. Finally, finishing everything in a day and half drunk off his ass he drove half hazardously to the market, bought more as if he was through a ragger of a party, pulling up to the house he hauled everything in, his last trip in he froze at the threshold of the kitchen.
It's the alcohol, he's shit faced, that's the only explanation, because other wise he wouldn't be seeing you standing in the kitchen clear as day humming. "Hi honey, took you long enough."
---
John was discharged, sent into retirement with respect, and the guys took their leave, moving themselves in with John, the drinking had gotten worse. They did everything they could to keep an eye on him, but John fought them, made it hard, the first 2 months, he said some hard, hurtful things to them, drunk and stayed in his room.
Eventually, John came down, showered and hung over but calmer, he sat in his chair joining the guys. “I’m sorry.” He sighed digging into his pocket pulling out your engagement and wedding ring setting them on the coffee table. The tv was muted as they looked at the rings quietly before looking up at him as he spoke. “I was going to propose to her after we got home from the mission, was going to do it under the tree, set it up like when we first confessed our love for each other.” He laughed to himself, "Never was one for I one for romantic gestures, she always made the big moves. I was always content to just take care of her and provide for her." Rubbing your blanket between his fingers he looked up and saw you, a sad smile on your lightly glowing skin. "That's all I ever wanted to do for her, she had a shitty family and I wanted to give her everything she dreamed of. We were stupidly already trying for a family, she wanted to be a mother more than anything in the world and I wanted to give her that. Should've retired when we set out to try in hind sight but she was as stubborn as I am." Taking a deep breathe he picked the rings up looking at them, "She wanted you guys to always come by but selfishly I was enjoying our solitude, our world out here. I should've listened to her and invited you guys sooner, I'm sorry."
From then on, John worked on being more involved in the house and work the guys were doing, Kyle had taken up your garden with the help of Johnny, Simon kept up on anything that needed fixing around the house, Johnny mostly cut the grass and watered your plants inside the house. All of them took turns cooking meals, very quickly with John now included in the motion of everything settled. He still saw you around the house, but now he welcomed it, it was always a break in the emotionless auto pilot he found himself in.
A year went by, Johnny and Simon came out about their relationship and John was more than willing to push them into the small mother in law house that was in the back also close to the house and tree.John encouraged Kyle to date the sweet girl he was fancy with at the town's little diner which was blossoming and the two grew close quickly. John spent his time making a bench most of the time, now not having touched an ounce of liquor in a year.
Finishing the bench on your anniversary, he brought it to the tree by your tombstone, he had kept up the area, keeping the grass cut and every morning laying fresh flowers down with your tea. Sitting down on the bench, he grabbed his full bottle of antidepressants, and then benadryl, downing both and sipping on tea, the breeze cool against his skin as the sun beat down on him. Looking beside him he smile, "HI baby."
"Hi."
"Don't look so sad honey."
"You know I don't want you to do this."
"But I want to do this." He said wiping a tear from your cheek. "The lads will be taken care of, everything is left to them."
"So they're going to find you here? Dead?"
"In peace, free and with you. Where I belong."
Settling in, tucked into his side you both were quiet as his heart started beating a little slower, eye lids slowly falling shut as he could feel a faint phantom feeling of your lips touching his cheek.
The guys all made their way to your grave, something they all did with John most evenings to say good night. Coming around the tree they froze seeing John sitting on the bench, unmoving, head leaned back with moist cheeks from tears. Within days John was buried beside you, his will was read, and they officially moved to the houses, Johnny and Simon stayed in the 'mother in law' house and Kyle and his girlfriend moved into the main house, but they set John and you chair on Johnny and Simon's porch preserved and safe, Just like John promised you, they were taken care of, always visiting your guys graves on holldays and anniversary's.
——-
😭😭😭😭😭😭When I tell you guys that I cried thinking about this plot yesterday and then a little broken up while writing it today I mean it! Hopefully you guys... Enjoyed??🤷♀️It plagued me and now it will plague you all...Sorry.🙏
#call of duty#task force 141#x reader#john price#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz#soap#ghost#cod men#tf141#captain john price#captain price#main character death
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miffy’s note this is something i wrote for kuna a while back and discovered i actually struggle to write him rn so this never got finished but im posting it as is bc this concept will probably never get finished pfft. enjoy her as is c: nothing really happens but mdni as always
nighttime in the summer is a little sweeter than the rest of the year. the stars glimmer brighter, the air feels more crisp, even the moon is illuminated with such a shine you kept help but admire her from miles below.
nighttime in the summer is meant times like these, providing you a sense of safety while you enjoy your youthfulness while you can.
you lean against the silver porsche cayman, sitting idle in the mall parking lot. the owner, pink-haired and bubbly, stands in eyesight, sparking up a conversation excitedly with his friend — a brooding dark haired man you’ve come to learn is megumi.
you can only hear bits and pieces of their conversation over the engines revving around you but nevertheless, their friendship is the same, with yuji excitedly waving his hands to display his thrill and megumi casting him sideways glances. despite the annoyed disposition he gives off, everyone knows he doesn’t really mind. if anything, megumi just considers most people a general inconvenience.
“has anyone ever told you you talk too much?” megumi asks with an unconvincing roll of his eyes. the slight lift of the corners of his mouth give him away as he begins to walk towards you, hands tucked in the pockets of his black shorts, soft and cottony.
it does nothing to deter yuji who just grins, trailing behind him. glint brown eyes glimmer with joy, no matter that he’s being chastised by his own friend. “just you, all the time. you’re such a good friend, megumi. i value our friendship so much.”
megumi pauses midstep to turn and face the other. his eyes are narrowed into slits and he just stands there as the seconds pass, glaring silently. he considered slapping his hand against yuji’s chest but he doesn’t. he simply clicks his tongue and makes his way towards you, grumbling under his breath.
“i’m getting bored,” you say with a huff. your arms are crossed tightly across your chest as a symbol of your protests. “you guys told me it would be fun and i believed you because you never agree on anything.”
“it will be fun. it’s fun right now but you’re standing here guarding my car instead of doing anything else.” yuji positions himself beside you. he gets a view of the parking lot, full of modded cars blowing hazy exhaust smoke into the night sky.
it was his idea to attend a local car meet and him who first sent the invitation your way. you were only enticed to attend when the rest of your friends agreed to join, as well. frankly, it’s not really your thing to leave the comfort of your home and watch cars do donuts, screeching and leaving skid marks all over the road.
it may be entertaining but it’s not your thing.
“what if your car gets stolen? you’re gonna wish i was here guarding it.”
“no one wants his shitbox. i can promise you that,” the black-haired man snickers. he eyes the cayman with faux disdain.
“don’t be upset my car is better than yours, megs. not everyone can be as good as me.” yuji clamps his hand down on megumi’s shoulder, patting the lean muscles sympathetically.
you think their friendship is strange, often flip-flopping between enemies to acquaintances to besties. if you didn’t know any better, the thought of them being related could have crossed your mind. you know better, though, having already met his brother before. “where’s sukuna?”
yuji shrugs, glancing around the strangers that mill between cars. “i dunno. he’s somewhere. he rode his bike here so he’s probably riding around somewhere.”
“and nobara?”
this time, you both turn to megumi — the one who was in charge of bringing her here as yuji has done for you.
“i’m not her babysitter. i don’t fuckin’ know. maybe she found some guy to french kiss or something. that’s not my business.” megumi gives a small shake of his head. he’s not open to having this conversation; there’s no point. what she does in her free time has nothing to do with him.
this time, you find yourself giggle lightly. it’s drowned out by the growing vibrato of an engine rolling up to approach the three of you. it brings a breeze with it, sparking goosebumps to rise across your skin.
with the season heightening the nighttime temperature, it’s warm enough that you’re able to wear a sleek, athletic skirt. it’s dark gray material is smooth against the tops of your thighs and is accompanied with a tiny pair of shorts attached to the inside, necessary when you consider the short length. you paired it with a thick-strapped camisole, scented with a flowery perfume the wafts through the air when you walk by. you have yet to get hit with a sudden chill since you’ve stepped out of yuji’s car. after all, he enjoys blasting the ac in tandem with the volume of the radio, blasting j. cole through the speakers connected to his phone through airplay.
“i drove around for ten minutes looking for you brats.” a motorcycle comes to a smooth stop a few feet away, humming its gas away. the driver, decked out in gear, wraps a gloved hand around the helmet and tugs it off. his voice is muffled behind the layers of plastic and kevlar.
still, its familiar and your suspicions are confirmed when you spot the same pink hair of the younger itadori, the one who’s standing by your side now. you still remember the day sukuna and yuji dyed their hair after a drunken promise they were forced to uphold at the threat of being called a pussy for months to come. it was recent, merely a few weeks ago.
sukuna has his own genetic differences, though. while the two could be a splitting image, there’s little things that set them apart. yuji, having only recently turned twenty, looks more boyish with rounder eyes and a perma-smile. on the otherhand, sukuna has a much sharper jawline.
the angles of his face are more prominent, giving him a stronger bone structure. his eyes are slimmer and sometimes glint with a color so brown, they almost appear red. when he smiles, it appears like a smirk, with white incisors poking over the bottom of his pillow soft, pink lips.
your stomach twists and turns under the surface.
“have you seen nobara?” yuji tilts his head with his question. his hair, grown out from his last haircut, flops over the tops of his scalp until its waving on the opposite side. “we were just talking about how we don’t know where she is.”
sukuna furrows a brow. he breaks his eye contact temporarily to push the kickstand down and turn his bike off. “no . . .? i’m not looking for that girl.” he swings his leg over the seat of his bike. a thick, black boot makes contact with the asphalt with a weighty thump.
“her lo’ says she’s here.” megumi jumps into the conversation, flashing the bright screen of his phone to display the “find my” app. surely enough, nobara’s silly sleeping face — eyes closed and mouth hanging wide open — is hovering over the same lot you three stand in now.
“then she’s here.” sukuna barks out, that smile-smirk gracing his lips. “fuck are we waiting for?” his eyes find their way to yours and you’re convinced they taunt you, a breath hitching in your throat. every time sukuna comes around, it always gets harder for you breathe.
you’ve known sukuna for a few years now — yuji, megumi, and nobara too. you’ve even come to meet the itadori siblings half brother, choso, who really only
comes around on big holidays due to strain between their parents, to which of neither of their faults.
five years ago, when you first moved to the rolling hills of the suburbs, nobara was the friend you made but not the first person you met. megumi was the first person you met in your accelerated history class but he didn’t come off that welcoming. it wasn’t until nobara introduced you into the long-standing friend group that he even became open to the idea of accepting you into his general circle.
somewhere along the line, after months of establishing a friendship with yuji and spending time after school at his house, you met sukuna, the slightly older brother who could be described as a bit rude and blunt, slightly abrasive. sukuna never had a filter and he speaks as he sees it, through his world view. you suppose it’s that harsh demeanor that draws you to him out of curiosity.
“ ☆ said she’s bored so we were going to race. cops are about to be called anyway; we’re making so much noise.” yuji pulls his car keys out of his pocket and click the little unlock button. behind you, the cylindrical latch jumps up with a shick!
“we are?” megumi reels his head back in confusion but his question falls on deaf ears because you’re asking a question too, with more purpose, whipping your head to stare at yuji.
you look suddenly frightened, eyes widens dan mouth hanging open, gobsmacked. there’s a small twinge of fear that sparks in the base of your warm tummy. “who is about to be called?” you stand on your feet, solid in the fresh white new balances.
you can’t afford that, the three of them know that. your future holds too much to risk, with another year wt your prestigious college approaching at the summer months dwindle away. you’ve never had so much of a blemish on your file in school. you’d never be open to committing a crime in public and sending an infraction to be documented in a report.
you’re convinced your internship would be flushed down the drain if you get even a minor infraction, not to mention the pushback from your parents. though you, yourself, are twenty years old and only return home for the summer, you can only imagine what they’d have to say.
sukuna clicks his tongue with a roll of his eyes. he’s always been a little sassy like that, angling his head in the direction of his yamaha. “relax, princess. if you’re so worried ‘bout your daddy finding out, ride with me. no chance they’re catching me and i don’t have any tags.”
you’re unconvinced, squinting your eyes at the two seater. your attention bounces between the bike and sukuna, wrapped safely in the safety of stiff fabrics to protect him from any possible accidents, breathable enough for him to move comfortably. “i don’t have a helmet, sukuna.”
“i do,” yuji shifts his car keys in his hand until his thumb skims across the smooth depiction of the trunk of his car. the keys jingle around the ring, once silver and tarnished after months of use.
he pops his trunk open and round the back until he’s standing at the tail of the silver caymen, peering into the squared space. yuji plants his hands on his hips and scans the mess, glancing over discarded papers, shoes he’s been meaning to take out for months, and other junk that’s been collected from friends throughout the weeks. “there should be one in here. i keep a spare on me.”
“it might be too big, though. your head is like . . . huge. i don’t know how you’re still so stupid with a bobble head on your shoulders.” megumi chortles. a tanned nike makes contact with a pebble and it goes skittering along a thick white line and disappears beneath yuji’s two-seater.
“it’s sukuna’s, you goof.” yuji’s voice maintains that lightness he always has, reaching into the upper layer of his trunk to dig around. he pulls down a few jackets, nobara’s blanket, and a purple hair tie.
underneath the layers and layers of multicolored fabric lays another helmet, white in color and just as shiny as the one sukuna sports now. it’s a bit more dinged up, covered in scratches and scuffs from being tossed around.
“oh, you got nothing to say because it’s mine now, right?” sukuna raises an amused brow. these days, he’s taken a bit of a liking to megumi, having grown some version of twisted brotherly love that makes him push and push at his buttons, knowing megumi wouldn’t fight back. he couldn’t, it wouldn’t be fair. anyone fighting sukuna is predestined to a losing battle.
megumi knows this, lifting and dropping his shoulders in a careless shrug. “whatever. i’m going to go look for nobara since obviously, no one else cares.”
you can’t help but snort. “don’t pussy out, megu. you were the one who said you’re not her babysitter and now you wanna look for her.”
he casts you a glare on his way out, prolonging his gaze over his shoulder as he turns, digging the heel of his shoe into the black asphalt. “piss off,” he spits out before wandering away with purpose.
small giggles escape the plump gates of your lips as the man’s shadow disappears into the crowd, hazy and cheering as cars race by, occasionally accompanied by a motorcycle or two. it all reminds you of your original conquest, turning your attention to yuji, and just in time too, because he’s tossing the white helmet in your direction without warning.
“yuji, what the fuck?” you’re lucky that you acted fast, even if your fingers fumble clumsily to maintain a firm grip. “you could have said something. were you just going to let it hit me?”
yuji raises his hands apologetically. under the streetlights, his cheeks brighten with a subtle rosy glow. his wordless apology isn’t enough, though, and you’re prepared to scold him some more but sukuna beats you to it, sighing obnoxiously.
“quit your fussing, put the damn thing on, and let’s go. i don’t have all night and i haven’t done shit since i got here.” he takes the initiative to walk up to you and pull it over your head himself. he doesn’t have time to hear you wail and cry about how you don’t know how to do it, how you don’t appreciate how he’s talking to you, or whatever else your princess brain could come up with.
he supposes that’s the side effect that comes with growing up upper middle class, being so accustomed to living the plush and comfortable life that you feel every little thing is an injustice to you. after all, your mom works as a dentist and your dad a physical therapist.
for as long as you can remember, every wish and whim of yours has been granted. your parents went as far as enrolling you in the expensive, competitive dance classes. you spent many weekends at friend’s houses, sleeping over and riding with them to and from competitions when your parents weren’t able to take you themselves. on top of that, you’ve always attended the best private schools your parents could afford, leading you to a gateway of open doors and opportunities you would have otherwise missed out on. you’re a spoiled little thing; sukuna supposes that’s what draws him into you, a sort of fascination, a morbid curiosity.
your grumbles become muffled behind the thick layer of polycarbonate and sukuna smiles. finally, peace. “hey brat,” he turns to his brother — who’s playfully shaking his head, slamming the hood of his trunk shut — “stick with fushiguro. he ain’t smart, either. last thing we need is the both of ‘em locked up overnight. i don’t have the funds to get ‘em out.”
the younger itadori, much better at complying with directions, shakes the mop of hair on his head and tucks his hands in his pockets. “okay fine, i guess. i’ll text you later if something happens and meet you somewhere, i guess.” nevertheless and despite his slight complaint, yuji gets settled into his car and rolls away, headlights illuminating thin clouds of smoke.
all that’s left is you and sukuna, standing in front of each other. for a moment, you consider this could be a sweet sentiment. that is until he knocks the palm of his hand against your helmet, sending your head off balance and derailing what coordination you did have.
“sukuna.” you grit your teeth and deliver a similar blow to his helmet. it lacks the similar strength and yet, his eyes flash with annoyance.
“hit me again and i’ll kill you. do you want a lose helmet or do you want to keep your head.”
you scowl, invisible behind the dark tint. you say nothing in return, partly because your voice is exhausted from having to yell just to be heard. the other part is because arguing with him is pointless. so you just huff, brush past him, and stand by his bike until he’s ready, signifying you’re going to drop the conversation and move on to more important things. what a dick, he is.
you aren’t entirely sure how it happened. one moment you’re sitting on the back of sukuna’s bike, arms wrapped around his waist and pressing your chest against his back. he drives around at much slower speeds than he usually would, for your sake. he takes a few laps around the crowd and occasionally kicks you off to showcase his skills, throwing his weight to the edge of his seat and lifting the front wheel of his bike. this particular part trick gets cheers from the crowd that only encourages his behavior and sends pleasant adrenaline coursing through his vein.
ten minutes later, you’re still off sukuna’s bike but hidden within the empty courtyard of the mall. you’re still under the moonlight, yet no one has bothered to come this far, not interested in the empty marble fountain or the metal seating, all placed strategically on the pavement. your butt is firmly planted on the metal table. the black paint still stands strong against the forces of nature.
your legs are pulled apart to make room for the figure in between you and then some, with calloused hands gently circling around your joints. it’s surprising when you think about the contrast in the way he kisses you, hard and with a fervent hunger. he doesn’t even have to hold your head against his because you’re doing the work for him, looping your arms around sukuna’s neck.
it was inevitable that you’d both end up thisp way, after all the tension was palpable between you. once everyone else left you in the company of each other, your fates were set in stone. plus, there is always something so intoxicating about being with each other this way, bantering or barely talking in front of the group but sneaking off to have secret escapades, much like this one.
you couldn’t count on both hands the amount of times you’ve locked lips with sukuna when no one else was around and if you were lucky, it would venture into something more. now though, you’re outside so the only thing you really can do is kiss each other, connected by strings of saliva.
it started off plain and simple but that didn’t last very long. it only takes a few seconds for the need to take over and sukuna ends up sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. he nibbles on the skin, pulling it back and releasing it. it bounces back into place with a soft juggle, interrupted by the onslaught press sukuna’s lips against yours again.
you’re a whining mess, the heated region between your thighs craving more, wanting his touch. yet, you can’t have it and you know it. there’s too much that could go wrong and if sukuna was going to touch you, then he was going to fuck. it would have an ending, an orgasm from at least one of you that isn’t promised in such an unstable and risqué situation.
“ ‘kuna,” you keen against the soft pads of his pink lips. your eyes flutter in tandem with you cunt, gaping for any friction available.
it’s so funny to him how that switch flips somewhere in your brain that makes you so pliant and only with him. you look at him to make all your decisions, handing over your autonomy and placing it in his hands. when you want something, he can tell. you look at him with a certain glint in your blown out, brown eyes. your mouthiness suddenly halts and you plead in that tone.
“don’t start,” he shushes you by sticking his tongue down your throat, swirling the wet muscle around the cavern of your mouth. your spit combines in a sloppy mess that just barely gathers in the corners of your mouth. “i don’t wanna hear it. don’t ask me shit.”
you frown but it doesn’t last very long, not when sukuna takes your chin between his fingers and lifts your head. his lips make contact with your neck, sinking his teeth into the skin there, too. it makes you gasp with a twitch and sukuna offers his apologies by lapping at the faint marks left in his wake. “and fix your face, spoiled. got you dickmatized so bad you just don’t know what to do, huh?”
you turn your fingers towards the nape of sukuna’s neck, brushing the silky brown undercut. “s - shut up,” you mumble. a small flame of humiliation sparks to life inside you. your senses are slow the wake with sukuna’s light degradation. maybe you only feel that way because it’s true and almost out of character for you.
however, you’re thrown right back into that state of submission when sukuna lifts his head. “and just who are you talking to? you want to try that again?” his eyes have hardened over with a firmness yet he seems entertained by your weak bite back.
you feel a bit stuck as different variants of responses flash through your head at rapid speed. you could apologize, you could double down, you could even dismiss it. no matter what decision you make, there still isn’t much that he could do. you’re in public and that is you’re one solace.
you’re interrupted before you can get a single word you. sukuna’s phone buzzes on the table beside you, lighting up due to the quick text yuji sent from wherever he was. the man standing comfortably between your limbs leans in the direction of his phone, staring at the screen until the text is readable and unlocked.
yuji : bibs here. leave rn
“lucky girl,” he says, red eyes skimming the four words before patting your leg and taking a step back. “yu saved your ass. guess you owe him somethin’.” sukuna reaches for his helmet and pulls it over his head once more. he waits for you to get the clue to do the same but in the meantime, he’s already gone to start his bike and roll it up beside you. “gotta get you outta here. i’ll take you home. get on.”
#ִ •°. *࿐. *. ⋆ ▻ 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙡𝙪#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#jjk sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna ryomen x reader
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❝𝐈𝐓'𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒❞
❝synopsis❞ ‣ Jill could never accept your love, not because she didn't love you but because you were a woman... and she could never let herself love a woman... not like that.
・❥・PAIRING(S) › Jill Valentine x FEM ! Reader
・❥・GENRE(S) › Angst , Rejection , Sapphic story.
・❥・WARNING(S) › Again, it is a very rushed piece, but I am desperately going to try and get better and put a lot more effort into my writing, specifically this blog! I also suck at ending fics, so I'm sorry!
・❥・POST DATE › 09 / 06 / 24
❝featuring❞ ‣ N/A . . .
"I love you!"
"No, you don't."
Jill hastily turned her back towards you, refusing to meet your, presumably, heartbroken state. Sharply rejecting your confession of love didn't make Jill feel the way she thought it would've; She had hoped she'd feel… good. After all, she would've saved you from a relationship that couldn’t make you happy! It'd be horrible for her and you. Now, however, Jill felt anything but. In fact, Jill felt almost miserable for declining your affection. The wallowing swell of regret already began to stir in the pit of her stomach, churning in disgust at her actions.
"Why do you run away from love?" You yelled to Jill's clothed back, "Why are you so afraid of vunerability?" Each word strained in your throat, tears threatened to spill from your already glossy eyes. "Please, Jill... Let me love you."
"I can't." Wisps of brown hair blew in the small, spring breeze. "I won't let you stand here and spend the rest of your life miserable because I can't give you the life you deserve!" Luckily, Jill finally turned on her heel to face your broken face, although she regretted it the minute she did.
"You could never make me miserable, Jill!" Answering her, your brows creased, and you stupidly let a tear slip from your eye.
"You will find someone who can give you so much more than me: a house you can call yours and a family. I can't give you that! I wouldn't even be able to promise you I'd make it home alive!"
"I don't care! I don't... As long as I have you, for as little or as long time the universe will let us! I'd live my life the happiest knowing I got to have you." To no avril, you take a cautious step closer towards the brunette, "My feelings for you—"
"—Will pass." Jill was quick to cut off your next words sharply, almost cruelly. "They'll pass, Y/n."
The muscled woman took her first step away from the situation, her heavy black boot carrying the guilt she held so miserably on her shoulders.
"Jill! Please, don't do this." You hastily reached for her wrist, clutching it in your hand. "You told me you liked me! You said that you'd never find someone you'd ever like as much, so why now are you saying this."
Silence washed over the pair of you, the drops of water leaked from your eyes and landed on the concrete floor with a slap!
"You are so proud of being who you are. You've embraced and accepted that there is no changing who you are. You do not feel shame in showing affection to women, I do. That is why I'm doing this; you don't deserve to be hidden away because I am so guilty of what I love."
A quiet gasp slipped past your lips, lips Jill wished she could kiss without caring what others would think. Unfortunately, Jill could not think she'd ever achieved that. With one last look at your devasted face, Jill snatched her arm out of your warm hands grasp and let her feet shuffle far, far away from you.
No words could yell or scream for her to come back. You were too frozen in shock at her words. You couldn't even find it in you to look away from her as she slumped off. It had now gotten through to you. You could never have Jill, not because it was impossible but because Jill herself refused to accept her love for you or for any woman. Jill still believes she might, just might, find a man that could 'change' her and make her believe she was truly making it all up. Unfortunately for Jill, her mind will never forget the love she had for you. It was more than what you'd feel for a friend, but less that you would be a lover.
Maybe im another lifetime. Jill could love you without feeling the guilt or the shame of loving another woman.
#dazlyndiariess#jill valentine#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine x you#jill valentine x yn#resident evil x reader#resident evil x you#resident evil#resident evil x yn
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Everybody knows wolves make shite familiars. Even a common dog would be better - stupid, yes, but at the very least biddable. You want a predisposition towards aloofness, you can bloody well pick out a cat. But no: Jasmine is too good for a cat, or a hare, or an owl, or even something salvageably pretentious, like a crow. She just had to have herself a wolf.
Which is how Hickory finds herself half-crouched in the doorway of a woodshed, peering into the gloom, watching Jasmine’s wolf chew meditatively on her own familiar’s throat.
Her familiar, for what it’s worth, is a black hare (sensible, traditional choice) named Pennyroyal (good earthy name). The wolf isn’t killing her yet, thank the Mother, but she has her throat between her teeth and she keeps… sort of… mouthing at it. Both are person-shaped: the wolf to better hold the hare, all four limbs curled around the spindly, twitching body in her lap, Penny because the rearrangement involved in shape-changing would probably take her head off. Her eyes, fixed upon Hickory by the door, are glittering points of terror.
She’s doing a good job on her breathing, though. Usually she hyperventilates herself sick when she gets scared; must be doing the counting thing. Hickory is, for once, actually quite proud.
Well. No sense in waiting. Hickory steps into the shed, floorboards complaining under her weight, and the wolf finally notices she’s here. Stops her chewing and just stares, muscles locked tight, ears pressing against her skull. (It’s creepy how she doesn’t growl.) Hickory straightens her hat, clears her throat, and throws out her left hand, making Penny twitch involuntarily. For this kind of thing, you’re really supposed to use the target’s name, but wolves are basically dogs and dogs just go off tone, so it should still work. Jasmine named her familiar something stupid and twenty-syllabled, it’s not her fault if she can’t remember. It’s not.
“I, Hickory Muir, Witch-in-Making and Apprentice Second Class, command you: Fuck off!”
Something happens that feels like getting hit by a cannonball. By the time her senses disentangle themselves, she’s lying on her back in the grass, boots the only part of her still in the shed, and Pennyroyal is weeping plaintively onto her face.
“Hickoryyy, Hickoryyyy– oh you’re. Um.”
“Ffff.” Hickory flops onto her side and tries very hard not to do any extraneous swearing. Yeah, of course. There’s no way a familiar that size could go out the window, is there. Stupid.
“Hickory I thought I was going to die, and then I thought you died, and, and-”
“You can have a hug if you’re careful with my ribs.”
“Hickorryyyyyy…”
“Ow! Christ!”
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