#I still need to do the actual defense of the work but yeah
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Tokyo Revengers Groupchat (final timeline)
Warnings: suggestive, swearing, mentions of grooming (it's not serious), the word "pedophile"
Desc: a discussion about pride month takes a detour
Kazutora: what does pride month mean?
Kazutora: like is everyone supposed to be gay for the month or?
Mikey: yeah exactly
Mikey: basically we all have to kiss each other
Kazutora: oh
Baji: we can do a circle jerk session to start off pride
Mitsuya: Kazutora, don't ask just google it
Kazutora: what's a circle jerk session
Mitsuya: 😒
Mikey: i don't think it's necessary to go that far, Baji
Smiley: some of us, are in relationships
Baji: why did you say that as if you're the one in a relationship?
Smiley: just defending my guy Draken
Mikey: Ken-chin will you still be at pride even if you have a girlfriend
Draken: i mean, i guess.
Baji: does Emma even know you like boys
Baji: nvm she probably does. she did have to compete with Mikey for your attention so idk maybe it's obvious
Chifuyu: are you guys actually going to the pride parade? it's gonna be on tv i'm pretty sure
Chifuyu: which means people from school would see us
Chifuyu: or work
Mikey: we haven't been in school for years?
Baji: are you scared to be found out Chifuyu
Baji: bcs everyone knew in school
Baji: you made it glaringly obvious
Baji: closet made of glass and whatnot
Chifuyu: does it count as actually being gay if it's one guy tho
Chifuyu: like if i cook one time, am i chef?
Chifuyu: something to think about
Mikey: dude you're in a relationship with him, what are you talking about🤨
Takemitchy: Mikey-kun you're actually pretty famous so a lot of people would recognize you
Mikey: i'm pretty sure people know that i've tasted the rainbow
Mikey: people make edits of me and Ken-chin
Mikey: they're pretty cute
Mikey: people also write fanfiction about me
Mikey: guys do i look like a daddy dom
Mikey: serious question
Mikey: could i pull it off
Draken: what are edits?
Mikey: don't worry about it
Draken: no no, Emma was bugging me about it earlier and i had no idea what she was talking about so just tell me
Baji: search "Doramai edits"
Baji: don't know how Emma's dealing with all that
Mikey: Takemitchy are you and Hina coming
Takemitchy: can allies come?
Baji: "ally"
Baji: that's all you are??
Baji: sure
Takemitchy: ?
Draken: what the fuck is this shit
Draken: how do you report this
Draken: this is all taken out of context
Draken: Mikey you need to release a statement about this. what the fuck
Draken: i have a wife
Kazutora: guys i'm still confused
Izana: can you guys please use your own private little groupchat
Izana: no one, of the 15+ people on this group talk, but you 6
Mikey: are you and Kakucho coming to pride
Izana: stop ignoring what i just said
Mikey: do you and Kakucho explore each others bodies?
Baji: who tops?
Baji: nvm, wrong question. who doms?
Ran: if Kakucho and Izana were to be together romantically it would count as grooming
Ran: just putting that out there
Mikey: so what i'm hearing is that Izana is a PEDOPHILE🤔
Mikey: interesting
Mikey: i'm telling Shin
Izana: oh you're telling Shin? i'm so fucking scared
Izana: kill yourself
Mikey: please don't try me. i WILL do it🙏
Draken: wait are you guys actually together? cause that's an actual problem i'm pretty sure
Draken: wasn't he 14 while you were 18
Ran: i'm sorry Izana, that's my bad, didn't mean to make this a thing
Ran: and in his defense, that was 10 years ago
Rindou: 10 years of grooming
Rindou: sorry, i wanted in on the joke but it just looks bad
Mikey: Izana why aren't you defending yourself
Izana: because Kakucho and i aren't in a romantic relationship? i don't know what the fuck you guys are on about
Hakkai: didn't the Haitani's go look for Emma at her middle school when she was 13 and they were 17 because they heard rumours about Mikey's "hot" younger sister
Ran: we didn't know she was 13 😐
Rindou: she was 12, actually
Baji: why did you double down
Ran: jesus christ
Ran: 12??
Ran: we still didn't know
Chifuyu: literally all pedophiles say that
Mikey: i beg your pardon
Mikey: why were you guys looking for Emma
Rindou: people said she was hot
Rindou: those people were definitely pedophiles, yeah
Rindou: which we aren't, btw
Rindou: we saw her coming out of the sixth grade classes and realized we'd didn't get enough information
Rindou: our bad
Baji: what would Ran be doing with Emma anyway
Baji: aren't you gay
Ran: no?
Baji:
Mikey: why would you add that question mark Ran
Mikey: why are you acting suprised that people think you're gay when you act like that
Rindou: sorry Ran i can't defend you on this one
Ran: is it cause i'm flamboyant?
Draken: who describes themselves like that man
Ran: Koko's flamboyant
Ran: do you guys accuse him of homosexuality?
Ran: nvm
Chifuyu: i was about to say
Koko: well actually
Koko: i am a bisexual man
Koko: i like men and women
Koko: the man i like is inupi
Koko: we are in a relationship
Inupi: you didn't have to do all of that dude
Inupi: but thanks 👍❤
Koko: i am out and proud
Smiley: i know this is supposed to be sweet but this isn't the place to do this shit😭
Draken: are you guys going to therapy? good on you guys
Ran: didn't you like his sister?
Rindou: she died
Rindou: keeping it in the family i see. i respect it Koko
Ran: that doesn't mean what you think it means
Takemitchy: Rindou why would you say that
Smiley: the Haitani's are weird as fuck
Smiley: can we kick them out
Ran: at least we're not ugly
Rindou: and we aren't even weird
Smikey: i'm fucking adorable, don't play with me
Inupi: Akane isn't dead. what are you talking about
Rindou: the fire
Mikey: what fire😐
Mikey: the fire never happened. i made sure of it
Inupi: what?
Rindou: nvm y'all, i'm tripping
Rindou: i suddenly got a vision of Inupi with a huge scar on his face
Rindou: and his sister being dead
Ran: i told you to stop spending time with Sanzu
Ran: he's schizophrenic
Rindou: schizophrenia isn't contagious🤨?
Rindou: and i don't think he's schizophrenic i think he has autism or some shit
Ran: 2 very different mental illnesses??
Rindou: he has the evil kind
Ran: what?
Rindou: evil autism
Rindou: like he weaponizes it
Ran: that literally doesn't make sense
Rindou: it makes perfect sense, fym
Sanzu: i'm not schizophrenic?
Sanzu: or autistic?
Rindou: sure buddy
Mikey: IT'S AUTISM
Mikey: BAJI, IT'S AUTISM
Baji: what's autism?
Mikey: what's up with Haruchiyo!!
Baji: isn't he just gay?
Ran: why is that your conclusion to everything?
Ran: i'm starting to think you're the gay one
Baji: i've never denied that🤨?
Ran: oh
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers manga#tokrev#tokyo revengers groupchat#tokyo revengers smau#kazutora hanemiya#sano manjiro/mikey#baji keisuke#mitsuya takashi#matsuno chifuyu#kawata nahoya/smiley#ryuguji ken/draken#hangaki takemichi#kurokawa izana#haitani ran#haitani rindou#haitani brothers#kokonoi hajime#seishu inui#sanzu haruchiyo#kokonui#drakey#doramai#guys idk the ship name#drakemma#also the haitani thing is from the pazuribe game thing#is that what it's called#idk
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It is done
It is finished
#Well#I still need to do the actual defense of the work but yeah#I did it#my god I did it#I don't believe it and I won't believe it until I get the final result
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It actually was pretty tough to get diagnosed with and medicated for adhd, everyone kept telling me it was probably anxiety and nobody believed me until like five years ago I went through one of those intensive two-day testing whatevers and the psychologist looked at the data and went like Huh, That’s ADHD. then two years ago when I was On The Brink because of work I tried to see a therapist and in the first session I was hit with ‘actually instead of adhd it’s probably something else’ and then I quit my job
#my ramblings#people have been telling me to get a therapist and I’m like#haha. yeah. [still sore over last time and still not ready to try again]#like I’ve had good experiences with therapy#but I know it’s also hard to mesh with me as a client#because 1) don’t fall for the mask man obviously I use humor and irony as a defense mechanism duh#and 2) I actually already know how I feel most of the time I just refuse to say it so if someone is trying to help me process#or work towards solutions (which tends to happen a lot in therapy)#I get very. no no I know how I feel and what I need to do but it’s not time yet.#I have to talk around it and then talk about it and then acthally talk about my feelings and THEN I can do the functional thing#also I’m still on medicaid. limits options a lot. I really need to deal with health insurance.
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The OG Agar.io... A classic.
#jelly blobs of doom#Flash games#neopets#chomby#virtual pets#gaming#browser games#wk speaks#yep I caved and I'm on Neopets again#some new stuff since I was last there of course but interesting they're able to use a Flash emulator to preserve these games!#you can still get NP from sending scores too which is nice#some games don't work though since Ruffle is still new and will need more work for compatibility I think#I miss playing the Tower Defense game SO MUCH#I'm a pro at it#but yeah any of you wanna see the occasional Neopets post when I'm playin?#still gonna keep an eye on where the new management takes the site...#grinding and actually making lots of NP is as much a pain as I remember it -cries-#I have other stuff to do in my life pls stop making things so expensive in this place#I just want a Halloween Paint Brush so BAD for my Lupe
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REFLECTED BLISS
When you discover a mirror attached to the wall in your hotel room, Spencer decides to take full advantage of it.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) afab reader, established relationship but they're being sneaky, fingering, guided masturbation (f), unprotected sex with a mirror involved, creampie, and spencer being spencer a.k.a he uses fun facts as dirty talk ~3.9k words
A/n: Told myself to make this 'cute and sexy and less filthy' but… idk man, from a scale to 1 to 10 how filthy is this be honest
Requested: Here
“Oh my god.”
“What? What is it?”
“Spence,” you urged, pulling him into the room. “You need to see this.”
He followed you, stepping further in, and his eyes widened as they landed on the wall opposite the bed—a wall that wasn't just a wall, but a vast, floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting the entire room. “That’s… interesting.”
“Interesting?” You mocked before peaking your head out the door, making sure no one was in sight before clicking it shut. “It’s terrifying.”
His duffel bag hit the carpet floor. “You’re scared of a mirror?”
“No,” you responded, placing your own bag alongside his. “I’m scared of the idea of it. I mean, look at it—it’s like it sees everything.”
“It’s glass. It can’t actually see us.”
“Yeah, but still,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s placed right in front of the bed. Who would want to watch themselves sleeping?”
His eyes shifted back and forth between the mirror and the bed, the reflection capturing every detail of the room, including the bed’s plush pillows and crisp white sheets. “You know, I don’t think it’s used for sleeping.”
“What do you mean?”
His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Think about it. Why would anyone want a mirror like this in front of their bed? It’s not for sleeping, it’s for... well, other activities.”
You felt your cheeks heat up as realization dawned. “Oh, you mean—that’s even worse!”
He laughed, closing the distance between you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist. “Actually, visual stimulation can significantly enhance sexual experiences. Mirrors can add a whole new level of excitement by engaging our sense of sight.”
Your face flushed even more. “I… did not know that.”
“Yeah, it’s all about the brain processing the stimuli.” He pulled you closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “It can heighten our arousal and make the experience more intense.”
You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, knowing what he was trying to do. Every time he initiated something intimate, it never failed to fluster you. There was a time when Spencer was uncertain and hesitant about these aspects of your relationship. But the more you spent time together, sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms from time to time, the more his confidence grew.
Now, you could feel it in the way he was holding you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the way he looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of mischief, was sending you into a frenzy. There was something different in his gaze—a new assurance, a quiet strength that made your pulse quicken.
He smiled down at you, a secretive, knowing smile as if he held a secret of his own, one that he was eager to share with you in these private moments. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing.
“I guess that makes sense.”
His smile widened. “So, while the mirror might seem creepy at first, it actually has its perks.”
“Perks, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
You pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing at him. “Are you trying to convince me to have sex in front of the mirror?”
“Is it working?”
You couldn’t stop the laugh escaping your lips. “A little.”
He laughed along with you, the sound warm and infectious. “Can I convince you more?”
But before you could answer him, his lips were already down your neck, drawing a sigh from you. You tilted your head to grant him better access. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours.
“I thought—” You let out a moan when he sucked a spot just below your ear. “I thought we agreed… no funny business tonight.”
“Was that really your plan when you begged me to stay with you?”
“I didn’t beg,” you defended. “You offered. I told you this town gave me the creeps and you said you’d sneak in my room to keep me company.”
His lips paused momentarily, hovering just over your pulse.
“You’re right, you didn’t beg,” he conceded with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin. “But you have to admit, the offer was mutually beneficial.”
“Mutually beneficial? Is that what we’re calling it?”
“It’s accurate,” he murmured, drawing back to look at you. “And I seem to remember someone saying how much they appreciated the company... especially at night.”
You could feel the smile forming on your lips, even as you tried to maintain a semblance of indignation. “Well, maybe I did say that. But that doesn’t mean—”
His lips cut you off, soft and persuasive, making it impossible to continue as your protests melted away. The kiss deepened, driven by a mixture of long-held desire and the thrill of his hard body pressed against your soft frame.
“You make a pretty convincing argument,” you murmured against his lips, your earlier resolve softening.
He pulled away from you before taking your hand in his. “Come here.”
He led you gently towards the mirror, the expanse of glass revealing your intertwined figures in the softly lit room.
“Oh my god, we’re actually doing this?”
He positioned you in front of him. "Only if you're comfortable.”
You watched your reflections, the way his hands settled more firmly around your waist, how your bodies fit together so perfectly. Your gaze met him through the mirror.
“Convince me more.”
He smiled and wrapped his arms around you, fingers hovering above the buttons of your shirt.
“Well," he began. "Did you know that mirrors don't just reflect visuals? They can also amplify emotions.”
You watched him in the reflection, the depth of his clear, brown eyes pulling you deeper into the moment. "It's like being both the spectator and the participant," he continued, his fingers deftly beginning to unbutton your shirt with gentle precision. "It makes everything more real, more intimate.”
You found yourself nodding, drawn in by both his words and the tender yet confident way he handled you.
"So," he concluded as he folded back the fabric, revealing more of you to the cool air of the room and the warm glow of his gaze, "If we're talking about enhancing our senses, using a mirror could make every touch, every kiss, feel even more intense, don't you think?"
Words failed you; you were too overwhelmed by his presence, by the heat that radiated from his touch, so instead of speaking, you nodded again. He smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggested he was aware of the effect he had on you.
"See?" he murmured, slipping your shirt off your shoulders. "Everything feels more alive, doesn't it?"
More than alive, your body was burning. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror, where every movement and touch vividly reflected back at you. You leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as his lips found the curve of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses.
His fingers slid down the strap of your bra, the motion slow and tantalizing as his gaze traced the path. His other hand remained at your waist, holding you steady as if he knew how his actions were making your knees weak.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged when he caught you staring intently at your reflection.
"I'm thinking," you started. “That this mirror might be magic.”
His eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering through his gaze. "Oh?"
“It’s making my clothes disappear.”
He laughed, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. “I thought maybe I had something to do with that.”
“Well… you do love a good magic trick.”
“I do love a good magic trick.”
You felt his fingers on your back before he unhooked the clasp of your bra. The fabric loosened, and you felt a flush of warmth that had little to do with the room's temperature. His hands slid from your back to your shoulders, gently pushing the straps down your arms, allowing the fabric to slip away gracefully.
“You’re so beautiful.”
You swallowed, trying to concentrate as his arms circled your waist before his fingers found the waistband of your pants.
“You’re… you’re pretty too.”
His chuckle was low and affectionate, his breath tickling your ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."
You felt his fingers undo the button of your pants, his movements slow, almost teasing, before he gently slid the zipper down. He gazed into your eyes through the mirror, seeking permission, and you found yourself nodding, your breath catching in your throat.
His hands shifted, not only guiding the fabric down your legs but also making sure your panties followed suit as he kneeled behind you. He let out a strained groan when he caught the evidence of your slick arousal clinging onto the fabric, momentarily pausing to kiss the back of your exposed thigh.
You were so pretty, so warm, so inviting. Spencer let his lips linger onto your skin while he pushed the last piece of clothing gently past your knees, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor. He stood back up and led you both backward until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed.
With a smooth motion, he sat down, guiding you to sit between his spread legs. He carefully nudged your legs apart with his hand, and you couldn't resist looking away when you saw yourself in this position.
“No,” he said, his hand tracing along the column of your neck, coming to rest gently against your jaw before tilting your face toward the mirror. “I want you to watch.”
Hesitantly, your eyes met your reflection in the mirror. You could clearly see yourself, how exposed you were, how you seemed to look smaller compared to him with the way you were naked and the way he was still fully clothed.
His hands traced a path from your jaw down your neck, and he watched himself move over the swells of your breasts. He gave them both a firm squeeze, admiring how they looked in his hands, how your skin radiated beneath his own.
You gasped when his thumbs brushed your nipples. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensation you were getting from it was making you wetter. Your nipples were so sensitive that you let out his name in an airy moan.
“Yes, baby?”
Your back arched instinctively. He knew what he was doing with his sweet, gentle voice and the way he was rolling your nipples in between his index and middle fingers.
You shifted your head to the side. “Can you kiss me?”
Of course he could, he’d probably give you anything you asked for. Spencer leaned forward, his lips met yours that melded with sweetness an intense longing. One of your hands found its way to his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.
He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt, and how it felt good to get a moan out of you. You were moaning loudly, way too loud, and all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth or press his lips hard against yours.
Finally breaking the kiss just enough to speak, he whispered against your lips. “Should I continue?”
You nodded as his other hand, which had been skillfully teasing your nipples traveled down, tracing the lines of your body, over your ribs, pausing at your hips. He gently guided your hips to shift slightly, adjusting the angle, spreading your legs further apart.
“Can you keep your eyes on the mirror for me?”
You fixed your gaze on the reflection and felt a surge of heat rush through you. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. His large hands moved down your thighs, his touch alternating between gentle brushes and firm grips, exploring the softness of your flesh.
The moment his fingers made contact with the slick wetness, sliding effortlessly through your folds and parting them, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. The image in the mirror was boldly erotic, and he continued with practiced movements as he pushed you further into a haze of pleasure.
“Look at how responsive you are,” he murmured, his fingers rolling over your clit. "Visual stimulation can greatly enhance the physical sensations. Watching yourself like this, seeing how much you enjoy it, can intensify everything you feel."
Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to put more pressure, rubbing your swollen nub in a circular motion. You gasped, focusing on your reflection–your head tilting back, your eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again. It was intensely arousing to see yourself in such a raw, unguarded state.
"Watching can make the pleasure more acute," he continued, guiding your hand down to feel where his fingers were at work. "Try it."
Your eyes met his in the mirror. “W-What?”
“Here,” he encouraged, taking hold of your hand before placing it at the center of your cunt. The warmth and wetness were startling, even more so because you were witnessing it unfold in the mirror. His fingers guided yours, teaching you the rhythm and pressure that had drawn those sharp gasps from your lips.
"Like this," he murmured, his own hand adjusting yours, showing you how to circle and press. Your breath hitched, seeing the flush spread across your chest and neck, the way his fingers moved above yours.
"It intensifies, doesn't it?"
Your head fell back to his chest. “Y-Yes.”
“Keep going,” he instructed, and you followed, playing with your clit with the right amount of pressure you desired. When his fingers traveled further down, his fingertips grazing your entrance, your jaw slacked open.
You whimpered as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head before you instinctively closed your eyes.
You felt his free hand gripping your jaw.
“Eyes on the mirror, Sweetheart.”
You obeyed, reopening your eyes. You settled to watch how his hand flexed as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt before adding another to stretch you out. You whined, your own fingers moving fast against your clit.
“Good,” he murmured, burying his face against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. His stubbled jaw scraped across your skin, causing you to shudder in pleasure. “Keep watching.”
You could barely think straight, your breaths coming in short gasps now, your focus split between the sensations rippling through your body and the erotic display in the mirror. His fingers curled inside you, finding that perfect angle to press against your most sensitive spot.
The room was quickly filled with the lewd sound as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips.
"I love seeing you like this," he confessed. "Are you close?”
You struggled to answer, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. But he felt the way you clenched around him, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm. His other hand traced a path from just below your breasts, gliding down over the smooth plane of your stomach. He paused, his palm resting just above where your own fingers were playing with your clit, and applied pressure there.
A shudder tore through you, the sensation bordering on overwhelming before a sharp, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you in an intense wave.
The mirror captured it all—the way your head tossed back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut, then snapped open to catch glimpses of his fingers thrusting into your throbbing cunt while his other hand pressed gently on your lower stomach.
Your own movements paused as you tried to catch your breath and Spencer held you, making sure you composed yourself even though his erection was digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience—you, on the other hand, not so much.
You gripped onto his thigh, noting the fabric underneath your palm. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”
Spencer chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Am I now?"
"Definitely too much.”
"Maybe we should fix that," he suggested, shifting slightly to allow some space for you to turn in his arms. Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt the moment you faced him, fingers itching to rid him of the unnecessary barrier.
He watched your every move with a slight smile playing on his lips. letting you push the fabric over his shoulder. “Better?”
"Getting there.”
You worked at the buckle of his belt before you unbuttoned his pants, urging him to lift his hips as you slid them off. "How about now?”
You reached out, your hands gliding up his now bare thighs.
"Almost. Still too much."
Spencer responded immediately, his hands removing the last piece of his clothing in a fluid motion. Then he was finally naked, and the sight of his cock, visibly aroused and gleaming slightly at the tip, drew a sharp intake of breath from you.
"Now we're talking," you breathed out, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.
His hands found their way to your waist, urging you to face the mirror again. “Get on your knees for me.”
“You’re really into this mirror thing, huh?"
“It’s hard not to,” he quipped, his hands gently guiding you into position as he settled behind you. "Don’t worry, all the attention is on you."
“Oh, really?” you responded, turning slightly to look up at him. "Or do you just like seeing how good you make me feel?”
“I do make you feel good, don’t I?”
“Cockiness does not suit you.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, gripping your hips with one hand and the other positioning himself right at your entrance. “Arch your back a little.”
You obliged, accentuating the curve of your body. “Like this?”
“Perfect.”
His hand on your hips adjusted you slightly, ensuring the angle was just right. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock brush past your folds and you both moaned as he pushed himself further into you. Once he was all the way in, pausing to take a breath, he slowly slid back out to give you an experimental thrust.
You whined at the sensation before adjusting your knees, spreading them further apart to give him better access. This new position deepened the angle, and when he thrust back into you, the pleasure intensified.
"Is this better?" He asked breathlessly, watching your expressions in the mirror for any sign of discomfort or pleasure.
You nodded. Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being filled was too good, but you wanted something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against his.
Spencer groaned in pleasure, head going blank. His hands rested on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly, meeting your movement. But he was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts were gentle, and despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough.
“Baby,” you gasped, pushing your hips back into his. “Can you—can you go faster?”
Spencer's response was immediate, his breath catching slightly at your request. His gaze met yours in the mirror, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he saw none, he began to pick up the pace.
“Faster?” His hand tightened on your waist as he gave you a hard thrust, jolting you forward. “Or rougher?”
Both, you wanted both, but a breathless yes was the only thing that managed to slip out of your mouth. His grin was sharp, almost predatory. His movements became even more deliberate, each thrust gaining force and speed, driving into you with an intensity that matched the urgency in your voice.
“You like that?” he asked, voice rough with desire as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin.
"Yes, I—fuck," You blabbered. The pleasure was building, coiling tightly within you. “S-So good.”
Spencer’s other hand moved forward, finding your chin in the mirror and gently turning your face towards his. “Look at us.”
The reflection showed every detail—your wide eyes, his focused expression, the way your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm. It was overwhelming, and even more intense when the hand on your waist slid around you, fingers brushing your clit.
You mewled, your back pressing against his chest. The visual of watching it all happen, of seeing how your bodies worked together, amplified everything. The combination of his thrusts and the relentless circles his fingers traced over your clit drove you closer to the edge.
"Spencer, I’m—" you started, breathless, the words catching in your throat as the building pressure within you neared its peak.
"I know," he replied. He could feel it too, the way your body clenched around him, and he was just about at his limit. “Me too… I’m so close.”
You felt every muscle in your body tighten, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. “Wanna feel you,” you gasped. “Cum… inside… me.”
Spencer’s response was a deep, guttural groan, his breaths growing even more labored. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”
“Please," you whispered, urgency lacing every syllable. “Want your cum in me.”
That did it. He just couldn’t say no to you.
His fingers moved rapidly on your clit as he drove into you. The combination of his deep, determined thrusts and the relentless stimulation of your clit overwhelmed your senses. The room was filled with the sounds of the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and you could see in the mirror how each movement affected you.
Then, with a few more powerful thrusts, you felt him tense, a deep groan escaping him as he reached his climax. The hot rush of his release inside you was the final trigger your body needed. Your vision blurred, your mind blanked, and you surrendered to the intense wave of your own orgasm, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and breathless.
Spencer continued to move gently, riding out the aftershocks of your climaxes together, his movements becoming slower, more soothing. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you back against his chest protectively. His breaths were slow and deep, calming against the back of your neck.
You were panting, tired yet blissful, and your eyes met his gaze in the mirror once again.
“How many couples do you think the mirror has witnessed?”
Spencer chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against your back. "More than we can imagine."
He then pulled out from you and a soft sigh escaped you as his hot release slipped from your cunt. Spencer noticed it too, which was why his hand went back between your thighs, his fingers pushing the white, warm liquid back into you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “What–you—” You stared at him with wide eyes. “You are filthy.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”
You sighed, because he was right, more so you were enjoying it too much because his fingers continued thrusting into you and you found yourself pushing back against his hand.
“Spence…” You warned him, although it came out too breathless to make it sound like a real threat.
He grinned, clearly enjoying your response. “Do you want me to stop?”
You paused, pretending to think, but there was no real doubt as you quickly shook your head. Because how could you want him to stop when his touch was so intoxicating, when he was focused so intently on your pleasure more than ever before?
Your eyes drifted back toward the expansive mirror in front of you.
Maybe you should get one for your room.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencerreid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n
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prove your love
spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
synopsis: lila gives your boyfriend heart eyes. when he’s assigned to stay over at her place you’re pissed. when spencer comes home, he makes sure to show his love for you. SMUT!!! minors dni
warnings: dom/sub, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), piv, various positions, overstimulation, pet names such as trouble, sweetheart, love, etc. very cheesy.
~
you slip your heels off in the hall with an aggravated huff. ‘look on the bright side, the case is over.’ your brain tries to tell you but the many sights and experiences of lila disrespecting you and glaring at you wasn’t going to leave your brain anytime soon. meanwhile, spencer got the opposite treatment, compliments, heart eyes, and lingering handshakes the entire time. she even slipped him her number, that little—
“hey,” spencer says, knocking you out of your thoughts. he can tell your brains conjuring something up. he can practically see the cogs turning in your head. “what’s got you so worked up?” he asks, taking a step towards you. his hands settle on your hips then travel to your lower back. he smiles down at you.
“nothing.” you dismiss, light and airy. trying to act unbothered. “why do you think i’m mad?” you question back, a little too defensive for your liking. “are you asking me to profile you?” he grins. you don’t get the chance to speak before he starts, “for starters, you practically ripped your heels off and threw them, you’re all tense, your fists were balled up and i can tell your thinking hard about something.” he exaggerates.
“you’re wrong because i am perfectly fine.” you state matter of factly. brushing his hands off you and walking to the bedroom. he follows after you. “holding in emotions, specifically anger, can have detrimental effects on one’s mental health. the constant internal struggle to suppress emotions can lead to even more stress, anxiety and even depression.” spencer explains. you just hum in response, searching in your closet for something comfortable, your mind doesn’t stop running about stupid lila though. he watches you. it wasn’t uncommon, he loved to observe you. most of the time it was just to see your pretty face while you were in thought but other times he liked to study your behavior and learn your routines. spencer liked to do it with you.
“you’re staring,” you comment. “i can’t help it.” he flirts. “oh please, did you tell lila that too today?” you let slip. you flush. glad you aren’t face to face with spencer right now. “that’s what this is about?” he chuckles. “cmere,” he says. you stumble over to the bed and he pulls you onto his lap. “you know i love you right?” he says. you nod. not looking at him. “so much, like i am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you, or whatever bella said.” he makes a twilight reference. you were the one who forced him to watch it. you giggle a little, meeting his eyes. he smiles. “there’s my girl.” he murmurs. your heart swoons. his hands settle on your waist and he leans in. you kiss, it’s almost like a breath of fresh air. when he pulls away, still keeping close he speaks. “i think i need to prove how much i love you, hmm?” he hums. “you don’t need to.” you mumble. “but i want to, please?” he pleads. you don’t protest for long. “okay.. if you must.” you giggle. he smiles. he’s so pretty you feel like your going to explode.
as he places you on your back, unbuttoning your shirt, he starts to spit out another fact. “did you know men are more jealous of sexual infidelity than emotional?” he asks. “women are actually the opposite, they get more jealous with ‘emotional cheating’ than sexual.” he takes his time, you always loved how smart he was. it turned you on.
“i wasn’t jealous,” you say. “oh really?” he snorts. slipping off your shirt. “yeah.” you say. he instructs you to lift your hips so he can slide your pants off. “mhmm..” he says. eyes focused on your body, he’s too distracted to make a smart comment. “she was pretty, i guess.” you try to say. lila was gorgeous. he just chuckles and shakes his head. not bothering to comment. he dips down and kisses you. nose accidentally bumping against yours and teeth clashing. it was messy, just how you liked it. “what was that thing about kissing and shaking hands?” you ask, just to hear him talk.
“the number of pathogens transferred from just a single handshake is staggering. it’s safer to kiss,” he says into the skin of your neck. “that’s interesting, tell me more.” you smile. he groans. “i can tell you all about it later, can’t i just take care of my baby now?” he smiles. “baby? what happened to trouble?” you grin. “you are trouble,” he sighs. lovingly of course. you giggle as he kisses down from your neck to your collarbone, then unbuckles your bra without struggle. pulling it off. he trails down to your tummy, pressing little kisses here and there. making you antsy. he reaches the spot you need him most and smiles into your skin as you squirm a little. “patience, trouble.” he says. he plants a firm kiss on your hipbone and pulls your panties down with one hand. “you’re so pretty,” he smiles. eyes flickering to your face. “all mine, hmm?” he hums and you nod enthusiastically. he chuckles and thumbs experimentally at your clit.
you press your hips up into his touch, leaning into it. chasing that feeling. he smirks, inserting two fingers slowly. he paws at that spongy spot within your walls. you let out a quiet moan and spencer doesn’t deem it good enough, he starts punching at the spot. abusing it almost. this pulls another moan out of you and he speeds up the movements on your clit. you almost see heaven as you arch your back, eyes rolling back. he leans down, attaching his lips on your clit and sucking harshly. thank god you weren’t standing because you would’ve doubled over with how strong your orgasm was. you try to get the words out but only pant. spencer can tell, “gonna cum, trouble?” he asks. then continues his attack on the bundle of nerves. the coil in your belly snaps, climaxing with his name on your lips.
the sound of your slick fills the room as spencer works you through your organism. eyes trained on your pussy. his fingers are pulled out, given a quick lick and suddenly his mouth is on you. lapping and drinking up your release like a man starved. “spence, wait— gimme a minute-“ moan.
your begs fall on deaf ears as he’s absolutely lost in you. there’s no pulling him out. you reach your hand down and bury it in his hair. pressing your hips into the bed to escape the overstimulation. trying to tug him off, he doesn’t listen though. moaning into you when you pull on his hair. the vibrations make you even more sensitive before, his nose brushes up against your clit as two strong hands come to hold you down on either side.
you moan, tears pricking in your eyes from the overstimulation. everything’s magnified by 10. the obscene sounds of your pussy fill the room as your poor clit is abused, spencer’s tongue prodding into you, milking you for everything you have to offer. the familiar hear fills your belly and you can feel the coil start to unwind. “spence—“ you sob. cumming again. riding against his face. you can feel that bastard smirk against you as he greedily laps up your release. “you’re okay,” he coaxs. finally pulling off of you. he presses a kiss to your mound then pulls himself up, he kisses your cheek. then wipes the stray tears on your cheek.
“hi pretty,” he says with a smile. your eyes meet his and you smile, a little dazy. “you have something on your face.” you say, remaints of cum. “do i?” he chuckles. he wipes it off with the back of his hand and kisses you. you can taste yourself on his tongue. “love you so much,” he mumbles against your lips. you don’t get the chance to respond before he’s kissing you again. a little tongue slipping in as he gets carried away. he messily kisses the corner of your mouth, then latches onto your neck. he works at his zipper, multitasking.
begrudgingly, he pulls away from you, slipping down his pants and kicking them off haphazardly. you tug at his shirt and he takes the hint to pull it off. undoing his tie and throwing it somewhere. when he FINALLY takes his shirt off you get to run your hands along his torso giddily. “y’so pretty,” you mumble. “this isn’t about me, it’s about you, trouble.” he says. slipping off his boxers. his cock slips angrily against his stomach and you almost whine. he leans down and kisses you as he slowly pushes in. the stretch burns but is bearable. “i know. its okay,” he whispers. he presses to the hilt, nudging against your cervix. you feel full, his hand slithers down and presses against your lower belly. “mmphh.” you whimper against his lips. he devours the sound and keeps his lips on yours as he starts to thrust in and out of you. pulling his head back to see your face every so often as the tip nudges against that sweet spot. it’s torturous how slow he’s going. you’re so overstimulated, tears start falling out of your eyes.
he smiles down at you, picking up the pace a little. his face contorts and he lets out a moan. you involuntarily clench at that and it punches out another sound. “trouble— can’t keep doing that.” he slurs. the wet sounds of him shoving your slick out of you fill the room as your hips collide. teeth and noses brush together messily and he’s practically devouring you. everything’s happening so fast. before you know it you’re coming again, his name recited on your lips. he works you through it, slamming into you with a feverish pace. you constrict around him and he’s not long after you, pressing himself as far as he can into you and coming. he’s whining,
you pant, he’s collapsed ontop of you. buried in your neck. tears roll down your face. “good girl, good job. taking me so well.” he praises breathily. taking? “..taking..?” you say. “don’t you mean took?”
“we aren’t done.” he lifts himself up from your shoulder, pushing his glasses up. the both of your climax leaks around his dick and spills out of you slowly. “i can’t!” you start to cry as he pulls out, he presses your knees to your chest and shoves himself back in. so much for catching your breath. “you will,” he says softly. beginning to thrust in and out of you, he’s so deep you feel it in your stomach. “that’s it, my good girl huh?” he praises into your neck, a pang of arousal shoots through your body and you can feel yourself get wetter. “spence—“ “none of the whining, you can take it.” he says. he bites at your jawline. you moan loudly. everything feels so good, it’s too much. he reaches down and starts to rub figure eights into your clit gently, a contrast to the brutal pace he had going. “there ya go, taking me so well.” he murmurs, pulling his teeth off and kissing gently. “ah- i- gonna.. cum.” you force out. almost forgetting how to talk. “let go baby.” he says. your back arches, eyes rolling back, clinging to him as if he was the one keeping your grounded. he follows after, shooting cum into you with a whimper and a “nngh.”
it’s unreal. you see stars.
when you come down from your high, your sat on spencer’s lap, dick still intact. you sob, falling into his shoulder and clinging onto him. “i can’t spence.” you sniffle from the overstimulation. if you had to come again you’d probably scream. you’d also scream though if he pulled out.
“the world record for most female orgasms in an hour is a hundred and ah- fuck, thirty six” he says as you clench around him. “i think you can.” he smirks. you push his glasses up.
you bite back, “nerd.”
-
that’s it
not proofread
i’m sick asf rn 🥰
#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#dom spencer reid#sub reader#criminal minds fic
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“… so basically just about everyone in my life has tried to kill me at least once, it’s kinda become my go-to way of making friends, just striking up a conversation with anyone who shoots me. It’s worked with just about all of the rogues in my hometown, including my clone-turned-sister who I had brunch with just last week. Even my parents used to shoot at me, but that was only for like a year or so and in their defense they didn’t actually know it was me, haha. It’s kinda funny, the only person who ever managed to actually kill me was a friend of mine who didn’t technically kill me the first time, and then only did it a second time to fix some rewritten timeline stuff, and I still dated her for a while after that. Oh, speaking of dating, my first girlfriend tried to kill me WHILE we were dating, but again, in her defense, she didn’t know it was me haha. But yeah, that’s kinda why I kept talking to that guy while he was pummeling me, just a bit of a pattern I’ve wound up developing. Anyway, what was the question again?”
“… How did you get in my safe house, and do you need medical attention.”
“Oh! I crashed through the window, and probably. Also, I’m gonna pass out.”
And then Danny passed out.
#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x dc fanfic#I don’t really have much context for this#I just thought it would be funny if Danny showed up in some random hero’s safehouse covered in injuries#and instead of elaborating on those injuries#just winds up talking about how it’s totally not that big a deal he’s totally had worse than this#you should see what his ex girlfriend did to him haha#and said hero just. not knowing what to say here
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Bruh, I'm so... Well obviously anxious about everything, duh
But then something I was anxious about turned out okay... Boy the level of relief I feel...
#miranda talking shit#I texted oliver to send me pics of his baking yesterday bc he said he was going to bake#But he didn't respond so i thought ... Ok i crossed a line. I was weird. He thinks im weird. Hes going to tell me in person tomorrow that#Im a creep and should stop. Nope he just said... I didnt end up baking yesterday but today I'll try again and send you the pics#The level of relief i felt was unmatched like oh... Oh gosh thank you#I know that i guess technically i shouldn't text him if its not work related. To my defense i havent either until now#So i crossed that line and thought for sure he'd be annoyed at least but seems im good#I kinda love and hate how our situation is set up ... Aka id say hes my friend but technically#I cant say that. Bc hes employed and works when we meet up... We've both made comments like being friends etc#Not straight out. But he have said like 'when i get an decent pc set up and running#We need to play some games togheter' and i mean... We have definitely shared more stuff with each other than#Patient/worker should have... I just know i cant actually say out loud that we are friends bc thats rule breaking /:#Feel the same way about magnus and it sucks. Id love to be able to talk with them as friends and meet up and do stuff#I mean i guess i could technically just... Quit hiring services from the company they work at and then it would be fine#But im kinda scared they'd not be comfortable talking with me outside of work like... I could just be imagining things#Maybe they are just being polite and thats it... Like yeah#So yeah its me being a coward and saying 'this is enough' bc i do get to meet them at least once per week for an hour this way#I know mom had this issue when working in this field. She have had more than one customer she formed close bonds with#But she still kept in contact with them after quitting. But thats her mom is like me we get attached#I can't assume others do bc then it'll hurt so much more if im wrong :')
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you are broken on the floor
alexia putellas x keeper!reader
overview: goalkeeping means sacrificing your body, how far would you go?
A/N: i feel rlly sad so i got the discord to come up with ideas (thanks @totaly-obsessed + @alotofpockets)
TW: Blood, Severe Injury, Brutal Angst
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ever since a child, you loved the feeling of saving footballs. If any of the teams you were on needed someone in goals you'd be the first the volunteer, along the way you actually got good at it and eventually signed with Barcelona in 2021, making good friends along the way.
Along with joining Barça, it came with getting a girlfriend. Who was the best person you'd ever had in your life romantically.
Being a keeper in the best club would always mean injuries, trying to keep a clean sheet like any defensive player wants.
Sometimes though, injuries are worse. Life threatening in some cases, career ending in others. It's something no player even wishes upon their most rivalled team.
You just had to be unlucky didn't you?
Barcelona were comfortably winning against Frankfurt 3-0, when a gap in defense allows a German player to make their strike. You fall back onto the line hoping the punch the ball away.
Seems like life has other plans.
The player shoots left, you dive left and push the ball away. However with being airborne, you can’t stop. Your body crashes into the post with a loud thud.
The stadium goes quiet, your screams and cries horrific. Your body looks… wrong.
Your collarbone isn’t straight, it’s indescribable. Bones are poking out. There’s blood running down your face where your head has cracked open after hitting the post.
It’s sickening to watch.
Players immediately rush over, forming a circle around you as to not show a fellow player in such vulnerable state.
Alexia is by your side trying to comfort you, trying to keep you still. Seeing you in this much pain makes her heart ache. If she could take it all, she would.
Paramedics are by your side instantly as the circle of players back up to give them space to work, Alexia sits helplessly watching you worm in pain.
After quick testing to make sure you were still alive and conscious, they get you on the stretcher. Which includes more screaming, and more pain.
Alexia watches as you get taken off the field in a hurry, fans of both teams clap and give you a standing ovation.
“Alexia, she’s strong. Let’s finish and win this game for her yeah?” Mapi pats her best friends back, also devastated at the turn on events.
“Ye- yeah.” The captains broken voice says.
- - - - -
As the rest of the minutes in the game are being played, you’re fighting for your life in the back of an ambulance.
The pain getting unbearable, you find yourself slowly slipping in and out of consciousness. Paramedics are doing things around you, but your eyes are too glossy to really tell. Your mind is also too fuzzy to think straight.
There is one thing you want, Ale. But, with everything? You wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve ruined some of your vocal cords from screaming so loud.
Soon enough, you succumb to the darkness. Letting it engulf you to a place less ridden in pain and chaos.
- - - - -
The game is over, an unspoken heaviness in the air surrounding both teams. There is little interaction with fans, whom luckily understand the pain the players must be feeling at the time.
Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid get in the Norwegian’s car and drive straight to the hospital where the medical team said you were going to.
When arriving, Ingrid drops Alexia and Mapi before parking, understanding they need each other. You were important to everyone, but Mapi was like your sister and Ale was obviously your girlfriend.
They rush inside, talking quickly to the nurse at reception who gives them sorry smiles, updating them all that she could. Which was that you were alive and in emergency surgery.
They don’t argue, it’s pointless. So they sit down on uncomfortable plastic chairs, playing a waiting game until you were coherent and safe.
- - - - -
4 hours and many freak out sessions later, a doctor walks over to the three girls explaining the situation you’re in.
“It’s a grade 2 concussion to her head, in cases like these there is chance for memory loss. I believe she has all her memory, we were talking about different things before I came here. It’s a high possibility that she has no memories from the accident though.” He pauses before continuing.
“She experienced a dislocated collarbone. We’ve put it back in its original place, recovery could take 1 year and she might never be to the level she was at currently again. We had to do work on surrounding ligaments which makes the recovery time longer.” The girls take in the information.
“Have you told her she won’t play for a while?” Ingrid asks the question on everyone’s mind.
“I did, she was upset in her own right. If that is all your questions, she has her own room. I believe you all know concussion protocol?” They nod.
“Ok, room 3146. If you need anything at all just shout.”
“Gracias, for everything you’ve done.” The doctor smiles at Alexia.
“No problem.”
- - - - -
When reaching the room, the 3 Barça players see your state, a gauze wrapped around your head and a large cast across your torso, restricting movement.
“Amor?” Alexia asks cautiously.
“Hi Ale.” You look at the other two. “Mapi, Ingrid, nice to see you.”
Alexia sits by the chair on the side of your bed, looking up with teary eyes.
“Please, please don’t ever do that again.” She sobs, cradling your face softly. “I can’t- I can’t lose you.”
“Ale, you’ve got me. I’m right here, please don’t cry amor. Por favor.” You look over to the other two in the room, smiling softly.
She takes a couple minutes to settle down and finally talk.
“Have you heard about your recovery?”
“Sí” You watch her sigh, tracing patterns over your hand.
“Lo siento, but I’ll be with you the whole way ok? I promise.” She says without an inch of hesitation in her voice.
“Te amo mucho Ale. That means so much more than you could ever know.” She responds by leaving a lingering kiss against your hand.
“I’m glad you’re ok. Had as all worried.” Ingrid smiles lightly.
“Yeah.. I don’t remember much about what happened. I might later on but for now I’m content without the memories.” She laughs.
“Well, all of the culers and people at Barça wish you a safe and great recovery. Even if the doctor hasn’t said it, you’ll come back stronger I know it.”
“Thanks Maps, I think I stay in the hospital for a few more days then I’m clear to go home. I have to wear this for like 6 weeks then start the strengthening physio whatever.”
“Ah, can’t wait to see you on the pitch again then amiga. Well, Ingrid and I will leave you and Ale to talk on your own. If you ever need funny company instead of serious company I am always here.” You hold onto your laugh smirking.
“Alright León, keep it moving.” You joke back and watch the couple leave.
You think back to what recovery is going to be like. A very long journey. It seems your girlfriend notices your thoughts.
“Shh, you’ll be fine and as Mapi said you’ll come back better.”
“Thanks Ale.” She leans over and presses a kiss to your lips softly.
- - - - -
The next few weeks are tough, you feel as though you’re useless. Alexia has all this stuff on her plate already and you’re just another one. However she is always quick to shut those thoughts down. No matter how moody, or how angry you got at her. She stayed, just like she promised she would.
Who knows what the future holds, maybe something, maybe nothing. What does matter though? Is who you go there with. For you it’s Ale. It will always be Alexia.
—————————————————————————
PART 2 - here
also i did say i was sick now i’m feeling better.. physically (not mentally since i just wrote this fic)
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso fanfics#barcelona femeni#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#wlw#espwnt#espwnt x reader#ingrid engen#mapi leon
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𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗲 | dark-ish!joel miller x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | when you don't have enough rations to get your fix, you have to find something else to trade
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | a bit under 5k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dubious consent SMUT (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral m receiving, creampie, sex as currency), orgasm control, slapping, choking, spanking, very dirty talk including degradation (slut, whore, etc.), possessiveness, discussions/threats of anal but no actual anal, just a touch of daddy kink and sir kink, implied age gap but not specified, joel is a lil mean but in a sexy way, reader is a pill user/addict
You chewed your nails nervously as you watched him walk up to your usual spot; you tried to act casual, but the more of this stuff you got, the more you needed it— and the more you needed, the harder it was to act casual when you knew it was coming.
“You got the stuff?” you asked quickly, giving your anxiousness away.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “you got the rations?”
You didn’t respond, even with a nod, you just pulled the stack of papers out of your pocket and handed them over. Your foot tapped on the ground— a little tacky, mud’s still drying from the storm two days ago— as he flipped through them.
It’s hard to say what you expected. Like he’d forget how to count or something? “This isn’t enough,” he informed you flatly, looking up from the stack to shoot you a glare.
“C’mon, Joel, be cool,” you whimpered, “so I’m a little short—”
“A little short?” he repeated. “This is less than half what you owe me.”
“Less than half? That’s fourteen— your prices went up?” you wondered.
“No,” he shook his head, seeming frustrated, “what you owe for today plus what you owe from when I spotted you for last week’s fix—”
“Fuck,” you groaned, “I forgot, I’m sorry— but you know I’m good for it.”
He tried to hand the ration cards back to you, and you bit your lip to stop it from shaking.
“I need this, Joel— you know I need this,” you began to ramble, but he stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder. Looking him in the eyes, you cowered a bit just from how intense his stare was.
“You need to get it together, kid,” he warned you, but you were only halfway paying attention.
“M’not a kid,” you defended yourself quietly, though your mind was already somewhere else as your eyes on the hand holding your shoulder. "I'm low on rations," you admitted, "but I can get you something else."
He gave you a confused look, until you reached forward and rested a hand gently on his chest, through the heavy dark green jacket he wore. Then he understood, and gave you a disappointed look. "I don't do that."
"Do what, relax? Take some time for yourself?" you pressed, letting your teeth catch your bottom lip slightly. His eyes did linger on your mouth for a moment, and you hoped this was working. "How long's it been since you got some?"
"Not that long," he said defensively, letting go of your shoulder, but you stepped closer to him and kept sizing him up.
"How long's it been since you got whatever you wanted?"
That seemed to get his attention a bit better. "You can't just say that— you can't just offer that," he corrected firmly. "You say that to the wrong creep trying to get extra cigarettes or something and you end up—"
"M'not saying it to anybody else, Joel," you promised, "this is just for you— I never traded something like this before, but, you know… we go back, and I trust you."
He raised an eyebrow at you. "Can I trust you?"
Smiling, you pressed your body up against his; he stiffened up— not in the way you were hoping, either— but didn't stop you. "Trust me how? What would I do?"
"I dunno," he muttered.
"I think the better question is, Joel," you lowered your voice as you looked at him through your lashes, "do you think I'm pretty?"
He scoffed, but you saw right through it. He was trying to tell himself he was better than this, that he needed the rations more, that you weren't worth the trouble. But his neck flexed and you knew you were in.
"Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor," you shrugged, standing up on your tiptoes so you could whisper in his ear: "I always wanted to suck your cock."
"Goddamnit," he hissed, and you thought he was about to throw you off when he grabbed your arm. Instead, he started to walk and guide you with him. "Not here."
He took you, eventually, to his room— it was much more spacious than most, especially yours, and you wondered what you'd have to do to get to spend a night here.
A second later, he pulled you into him; his hands ran up your back, and you smiled as he pressed against you. "Lemme see you first, baby, lemme see you," he whispered, helping you out of your shirt and sighing as he grabbed handfuls of your tits.
Your hands, meanwhile, rubbed the front of his jeans— but he wasn't hard yet, at least not much. Not until he unbuckled your pants and pushed them down along with your underwear, immediately groping your bare ass with a sigh.
"Got a nice ass," he decided, jiggling it briefly with his hand— and before you could react to that, he slipped that hand around and cupped your pussy with it, sliding one finger between the seam of your lips.
"Fuck, Joel," you whispered, reeling a bit from how sudden it all was.
But then it stopped— just as instantly as it had started— and he sat down on the couch. "Well?" he prompted after you just stood there dumbfounded for a moment.
He kept his legs spread wide, and put his hands up behind his head as he leaned back. Why was that so hot?
Swallowing, you got down on your knees between his, running your hands up his denim-covered legs for just a moment before finding his belt.
He let you do the work, opening the buckle and sliding the leather out, reaching into the fly and pulling out—
Fuck, he was big. Thick as hell, a fat head with a vein running up the side… you let your mouth water, knowing it would make this easier, and held his shaft tight as you began to lean forward.
"Hey," he said suddenly, making you stop for a second. "You better make it good for me, or no pills."
Looking up at him and hoping your eyes didn't give your nervousness away, you nodded. He smiled, and leaned back to really sink into the couch.
You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and his only reaction was adjusting his leg a bit. Taking the head in your mouth, you suckled carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.
It wasn't until he started to get harder in your mouth that you realized he wasn't fully hard before. You knew he was hard enough and thought maybe that was where it capped out for a man his age— no, clearly not, and you felt your hand struggle to wrap fully around his girth as he grew even more.
Trying to sink your lips down further, you had to open up your jaw like you never had before; it wasn't painful per se, but it was an odd feeling, and your lips were a little dry to be stretched this far…
You took him deeper until the tip kissed your throat, and you started to really get into the rhythm of it as your hand stroked what was left in time with the bobbing of your head.
Just when you thought you'd found the pattern and pace that would take you to the end of this, you were interrupted. He smiled a little, and a hand grabbed your shoulder suddenly and tightly; you froze. "Slow, baby, slow," he reminded you. "There's no rush, okay?"
You nodded a bit, still holding him in your mouth, and resumed— much more careful with your speed this time.
"Better," he praised, letting go of your shoulder and getting comfortable on the sofa again.
You kept the same motions, but tried not to get too lost in it— letting your tongue lick and taste, trying to really treat him so you wouldn't get corrected again.
It was a struggle to get much deeper, not just for your throat but for your lips and jaw forced wide open. Still, you worked to warm yourself up, taking your time as he'd encouraged you to.
For a while, he didn't react much, though he did watch you very closely. The first thing he did to show he was really here was brush some hair away from your face, tilting your face back slightly in the process.
"Look up at me," he whispered, "there you go… pretty eyes…"
It made your chest warm and your pussy tingle for just a second; his stare was intense, you struggled to keep eye contact with him looking at you like that.
He held your head and started to move his hips a bit, gently sliding his cock in and out of your mouth— just an inch at first, and he held you still while he did what he wanted with you. "Pretty lips," he continued, running his thumb over them, tracing the shape your mouth was forced into by his cock. "Use that tongue, baby, I told you to make it good for me."
Humming in agreement-meets-apology, you ran your tongue firmly along the underside of his cock as he moved in your mouth.
That went on for a while until your jaw was fucking killing you and you had to take a break; even with his hands on your hair he let you pull yourself off, though the look on his face did show some confusion and disappointment.
That all changed when he realized what you were doing. He smiled at you— a dark, yet amused, grin— as you sunk deeper between his legs to lick his balls. They were heavy in your mouth, and a little salty with his sweat; the mix of dark and grey hairs rubbed roughly on your tongue. "That's cute," he informed you, running his fingers over your cheek for a moment. You weren't sure if that was the word you would use for this, but you didn't disagree because your mouth was full.
You switched to the other one, closing your eyes while you really savored it, tracing the shape of them with the tip of your tongue before sucking them carefully into your mouth.
He moaned when you did that, and you opened your eyes. He looked so fucking good like this, eyes shut and head fallen back and his hands tightening into fists at his side. "That's nice, keep going," he encouraged, suddenly grabbing your hair when you sucked even harder on the bulb in your mouth. But he didn't try to stop you, or guide you, he just kept it there and hissed in a breath through his teeth as you continued.
When your jaw had had enough of a break you tried to get right back to it, but he shoved your face back between his legs and groaned.
"Not yet," he snapped, "keep licking my balls— fuck, like that… so dirty, baby…"
When it was time for you to stop that and get back to the main event, he made it pretty clear; he pushed your head back and shoved his cock into your mouth, groaning lowly as he let go and let you get back to it. He seemed to like how eager you were now, not stopping you to slow you down like before.
You twisted your hand around him, because everything was plenty slippery enough to do that, as you bobbed your head; obscene slurping noises filled the room and you felt like a proper whore now, spoiling him with the absolute best head you had to offer, using your mouth to pleasure him until you couldn't remember any other purpose for it.
After a few minutes of that, he yanked you off of his cock by your hair, making you gasp and blink up at him. "Is it good, daddy?" you asked with a smile.
He slapped you quickly on the cheek, and you yelped a bit as your face spun to the side. But you moaned, too. "You like that?" he realized.
"Yeah," you sighed, "unless you don't want me to."
He laughed breathlessly. "No, it's hot— you're such a whore, baby, keep sucking…"
He guided you back, pushing his cock onto your tongue with just his thumb until you could wrap your lips around him again and continue your work.
"Fuck yeah," he sighed, head falling back again.
With each bob of your head, you took him a little deeper— deeper, deeper, until the tip breached your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged.
"Yeah, choke on it," he encouraged, "show me what you can do— fuck, baby…"
Deeper, deeper, until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow, knowing you'd have to start all over.
"Shit, that's good," he mumbled. "Really fucking good…"
You took him deeper still, until all of a sudden your lips were at his base and his dick was further than you ever thought possible.
"Oh fuck," he moaned, stroking your hair, "you— fuck, baby, that throat… you've got a fucking talent, kid."
You did not expect to get wet from him calling you that… maybe it's just because you never thought he'd say it in a time like this. But it made your thighs clench together and your hips shift.
"No wonder this is what you wanted to do, huh? Wanted to show me your little party trick, take my cock down your fuckin' throat?" he snarled. "Bet you do this all the fucking time, a blowjob for a fix or more rations or something else you want…"
You shook your head, and he laughed a bit.
"No? You're a good girl?"
You nodded, moaning around him.
"Then what are you doing blowing me for pills, huh? Is that what good girls do?"
You shook your head, but he pulled you off by your hair again.
"Say it," he ordered. "Is that what good girls do, suck cock for drugs?"
"No," you answered.
"No sir," he corrected.
"No, sir," you repeated, heat pooling between your legs until you worried you'd drip on his floor.
"Keep sucking, slut," he ordered, putting you back in your place literally and figuratively. "Show me what a bad girl you are— yeah, fuck, show me how you use that whore mouth, fuck—"
You struggled to get back into your pace when he was holding your head, moving you the way he wanted. Unlike before, he was speeding you up, faster and faster until he was basically just fucking your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually just gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked.
"Gonna come in that pretty mouth," he promised, biting his lip for a moment. "Fuck, gonna fill that little mouth— don't swallow it 'til I say so."
You tried to nod, but your movements were controlled by him now; you felt his cock flex and pulse, and you shut your eyes in anticipation of it.
"No, fuck, keep them open," he pleaded, "look up at me while I come— yes, fuck, fuck!"
As he came, you sighed through your nose with relief. You were already thinking about getting that baggy of pills, about how deliciously high you were gonna be tonight, all because you did this. It took longer than you expected, but it was relatively painless— except for your jaw, and your throat, and your cheek, and your knees…
"Show me," he ordered, and you opened your mouth to carefully pool his spend on your tongue. "Mm," he hummed proudly when you displayed it all for him, holding your chin so he could turn your face either way and get a good look at what he'd done to you.
It was humiliating, sort of, and yet you felt proud of yourself when he looked at you like that.
"Good, baby, you can swallow now," he offered, and you did so quickly— but it didn't quite get the taste off your tongue.
Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you were about to try to stand up, maybe thank him for letting you do this instead of paying for the pills, but you realized this wasn't over yet just by the way he was looking at you.
"Come up here," he encouraged, patting his thigh and smiling down at you. "Let's see what else you can do."
With shaky knees, you stood up and took your pants off from around your ankles, climbing up to straddle his lap. "Are we really gonna—?"
He interrupted you by grabbing your hips and already starting to give commands. "Over here, baby, like this— there you go…"
He had you right where he needed you in order to guide his cock up to your hole and slide you down onto him. From the second his tip breached your opening, you gasped.
"Tight fuckin' pussy," he grunted, his top lip curling in a snarl for just a second.
He kept pushing you down until your inner thighs were pressed to his jeans, and he watched you shiver as his cock stirred places deep inside you— too deep, you'd thought before, for a cock to reach.
"Go ahead," he instructed, "ride."
You lifted yourself up and down, whimpering as his thick cock stretched you; it was taking you longer than you expected to adjust to it, but you almost didn't want to…
"Too big?" he wondered with a smug smirk.
"I-I can take it," you said, not sounding especially confident.
"You do this a lot?" he interrogated. "Ride big cocks?"
"No," you promised, "I don't— fuck…"
He laughed a little, and moved you so you had to pick up your pace a bit. You had to hold onto the couch to keep your balance as a wavering moan jumped from your lips. "Feels good, baby? Feels nice and thick, givin' that pussy a stretch?" he taunted.
"Yeah," you panted, "feels good."
"Who feels good?"
"You— Joel, it's you, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good," you babbled pathetically, moving faster again. He moved your hands from the back of the couch to his shoulders, before putting his grip back on your hips.
"Keep riding, baby," he instructed, "keep riding my cock, yeah, like that…"
Your head fell back and a low groan slid from your throat. "Joel," you moaned, "fuck, so deep…"
"You know I had to use this whole pussy, baby, every inch," he grinned. "Of course I'm deep— it's all mine, isn't it? I can go as deep as I want."
"Yeah," you breathed, nodding.
"I can go as hard as I want," he continued.
"Yes!"
"I can go as slow as I want," he added, laughing when you whined at the way he forced your pace to slow down again. "What's the rush, baby? Why are you always trying to get it over with? I know you fucking like it."
He held your face for just a second before he slapped it— then he did it again, again… just when you thought he'd never stop slapping you, he did, only to move his hand down to wrap around your neck. The way you gasped in anticipation, your walls restricting around him excitedly, gave you away completely.
"Shit, you like that too?" he grinned, massaging your neck so hard that it already made your head spin. You nodded.
He tightened his grip until your gasp was cut short and you were totally at his mercy, static filling your brain.
"That's it— fuck, you get really tight when I choke you," he noticed when he let go, and you coughed a little but moaned impatiently. "You want more? Shit… fucking slut."
He choked you again, your hips struggling to keep up the pace when all the air was gone; but that didn't seem to bother him much, if anything he liked seeing you struggle.
Still, he kept one hand on your hips to guide you, occasionally exploring with it so he could rub your thigh or play with your tits. It made you more aware that he'd never even taken his boots off while you were fully nude, grinding in his lap while he just sat back and watched you. You felt so inferior; why did it feel so good?
"Joel," you gasped when his roaming hand rubbed over your clit briefly. He smirked.
"Here, baby?" he teased, drawing the gentlest circles on your bud. "Want me to play with your little pussy, that's what you need?"
"Yes, fuck, please," you begged, but your words were cut short when the hand on your neck tightened again. He rubbed your clit hard, but you couldn't scream while he choked you, and your whole body felt like it was filled with pressure as he fucked up into you off the couch.
"Fuck, you soak me every damn time I choke you," he noticed; his voice was the only one in the room now with your moans silenced, and yet he sounded so far away past the ringing in your ears.
When he let go, you breathed in a deep gasp and moaned much louder than you meant to.
"Bounce on it, come on," he encouraged roughly, smacking your ass to kick you back into gear; you held on tight to his shoulders and swirled your hips, moaning shamelessly now at the feeling of his cock filling your sensitive pussy.
"Joel," you sobbed, "fuck, I— so good, I wanna— oh god—"
He slapped you one more time to get you back to your senses. "What's that, baby?" he pressed.
"I— I— fuck," you stammered, unable to get any other words out. I'm gonna come if you don't stop. But he didn't need to hear you say it, he already knew.
"You want more?" he grunted, watching your face closely. "You want more, baby? Say it."
Another hard slap to the face seemed to fix the part of your brain that makes words, and you spoke more coherently. "I want more," you whined, "fuck me harder, Joel, I want it!"
He grabbed you by your fucking neck and threw you off of him, onto the couch, with a sneer. As he shoved your head down and yanked your hips up, you arched your back to get yourself in position for him; but instead he smacked your ass hard and your back jolted up the other way.
"Slut," he scolded roughly, giving the other cheek a spank next.
You nodded against the couch. "I am, I am," you admitted with a sigh.
"Fucking dirty slut," he repeated, getting up on his knees to clumsily guide his cock to your hole; and you both groaned when he slipped in. "God," he choked, fucking you fast and deep right away, "so fuckin' tight— no baby, no no—"
He shoved your lower back down again when it tried to arch up, a natural response to his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. You yelped each time, a sharp pang in your gut with every thrust, but he fucked you as hard and deep as he wanted regardless.
"S'better— keep it like this, show me that ass," he ordered roughly as his gaze went back and forth from your twisted face of pain to his cock slamming into your cunt. "Good girl."
Even when it was getting battered to all fuck, your pussy managed to give him a nice squeeze when he said that.
"Real cute ass, too," he added, and you jumped a bit when his thumb brushed over your other hole. "Should I fuck it?"
"Joel," you gasped, not answering his question.
"Do you want me to?"
After hesitating, you shook your head.
"No?" he pressed.
"No," you admitted in a pout.
"Ask me not to," he ordered.
"Don't… don't fuck my ass, Joel, please…" you obliged, not sure if he was taunting you before he did it anyways or what. You both knew that you were in no position to stop him.
"What's that? You don't want it?"
"No, Joel, please! Not there!" you pleaded again, a little more emphatically.
"So I can't?"
You hesitated again. "You can… I just don't want you to," you relented, and he laughed.
"Don't worry, baby, I'm not gonna," he promised. "Pussy's too good. You're just cute when you're scared."
You couldn't say if that was true, but one thing you did discover was that you came faster when you were scared; it was already reaching the point of no return, that feeling deep inside. It was building faster than you could handle it, like he was forcing the pleasure to overtake your body— like your body obeyed him before you now. "God, fuck, fuck—" you choked out weakly, starting to shake all over.
"Close?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Not 'til I say so."
"Fuck, Joel, c'mon," you whined, getting another spank for your insolence.
"Not 'til I fuckin' say so," he insisted, speaking through his teeth as he kept a bruising grip on your hips. "Better not fuckin' come until I say, got it? Or you're not getting your pills."
"Okay, okay," you panted, "not gonna come unless you let me… I'll come when you say, just please…"
He chuckled a little, making you whimper in the back of your throat when he angled his hips to push his cock as absolutely deep as you could go; you'd never gotten a stomach ache from sex before, but he was churning everything inside you and making your whole body his plaything. Was that why he was going to make you wait to come? To make sure you knew how easily he owned you?
'Cause then it wasn't really necessary; you already knew, it was obvious.
"Good girl," he praised again, and you shivered all over; he fucked you harder, keeping up a ruthless pace, and you knew he was close.
At least, you hoped he was close, 'cause you weren't sure how much more of this you could take.
"Whose is this, baby?" he asked in a rough voice.
"Yours, yours," you promised with a whimper, "s'all yours, daddy, everything— s'all for you."
"Damn right," he grunted in agreement. "You're mine, baby— my whore, yeah?"
"Yeah, yeah," you agreed fervently, "fuck I'm gonna come, Joel, please… please let me—"
"Come, whore."
He groaned as it hit you— he must have felt it— and you made a sound you were pretty sure you'd never made before as your fingers clung tightly to the cushion under you.
His pace faltered and you were so lost in your ecstasy that you didn't even question it… until he slowed down to a near stop, grunting weakly with every stuttered thrust into you.
"Oh god," he moaned, "that was good."
When you realized, it was far too late. "Shit, fuck!" you spat. "You came inside?!"
"You said 'whatever I wanted'," he recalled, not seeming to feel very guilty for what he'd done.
"I said I wanted to blow you," you remembered, starting to sober up very quickly, "and you fucked me— and you fucking came inside, asshole, what the fuck am I gonna do if—"
His grip tightened on your neck again, and you stopped. "Quit fucking whining or I'll give you another load," he warned, letting go of your neck a second later and finally pulling out.
You swallowed, awkwardly laying your sore hips down on the couch. "You could… really do that? You already came twice."
"I lied— it has been that long," he admitted. "And with a tight pussy like this to fuck?"
He looked over at you, grabbing your thigh and lifting it so he could see his come leaking from your abused hole.
"Yeah, I could go again," he assured you, patting your ass gently after he let it drop back down. "You'd have to suck me for a while though, get me hard again…"
You sat up, slowly, and found more soreness in your muscles than you expected. "How many pills would I get? If I did that?"
He looked at you and smirked. "Whatever you want, baby," he promised, and you absent-mindedly licked your lips. He laughed as you leaned forward, getting on your knees beside him so you could put your head down in his lap. "Really? You were just bitching at me, figured you'd wanna leave and go shower so you could wash all that come out, try not to get knocked up."
You lifted his softening cock up to your lips, suckling at the tip and humming at the taste of yourself on his skin.
"But you wanna blow me again, huh?" he continued, voice raspier as he pet the back of your head. "Wanna get me hard so I can fuck that come back into you?"
You didn't respond to his question, just started to find your rhythm again until you heard him moan lowly as you sucked.
"Damn, baby… gonna get all the pills you want…" he mumbled his promises. "Gonna be my little whore, right? Gonna take care of daddy?"
Shutting your eyes tight, you hummed around him; this was far from over— this was never gonna be over. This was the new normal. At least you could keep your rations… hopefully.
"Yeah, that's what I thought…"
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#dark!joel miller smut#joel miller hbo x reader#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal smut#tlou hbo fic
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I did love you, always!
Summary: Bucky broke up with you but the Winter Soldier still loves you.
Word count: 3103
Warnings: sad, sentimental Feelings
Winter Soldier x Reader
You and Bucky broke up recently, even though you always supported him, even through his Winter soldier phase. It didn't even take two weeks before he got together with Sharon. that made you angry, hurt, betrayed.
You were at Bucky’s house because you had to get your stuff, and you both began to argue again because of Sharon.
"At least she treats me like I'm somebody!" he snapped.
"Yeah, I do too but would she love you if you were the winter soldier?!" You yell back.
"Nobody loved me when I was the winter soldier!”
"I do, i did" you mumble and turn around to put clothes from the shelf in a box.
He stops and just stares at you. You can't tell if he heard it. You look at him.
You stare at each other for a few seconds and you wonder whether it's even something to say now.
You wait for him to reply, maybe you shouldn't have said anything, now that you realize you might have spoken out of impulse.
He walks up to you.
"What did you say?”
"you have heard me!" You say a bit annoyed.
"I love you, even when you change back into the Winter soldier. The winter soldier is not a complete monster, he is also loveable." You sigh.
"But that doesn't matter anymore" you shake your head disappointed and hurt.
He stares at you and seems to be thinking.
His grip tightens on his fists. He's angry, frustrated, upset.
Then he sighs.
"You don't know what you're saying and you're just saying this because you're upset."
He seems to be thinking again, then he continues.
"If i was the winter soldier, you would hate me too.”
"I would not, i have seen you many times as the winter soldier and i didn't hate you, i love you it doesn't matter which one you are. The Winter soldier loves me, the same as you do. He wouldn't kill me." You say and finish up packing your clothes.
"How do you know?" he asks. He's curious now, maybe he's starting to reconsider.
"You don't know that. You say you love me no matter what, but I don't believe you. You're just saying it because you're angry. Because you can't stand me being with Sharon.”
"Yeah, I can't stand you being with Sharon." You snap.
"But I'm the only one that can change you back into Bucky when you go back into Winter Soldier, Sharon can't protect you from that, the Winter soldier, you. He will kill her."
Before Bucky can say anything Sharon steps into the apartment, his new love.
You glare at Sharon, who's got her hands all over Bucky.
"She can protect herself, she's a trained SHIELD agent." Bucky is getting defensive now.
"And I can protect her if she needs me to. She understands this. She's not afraid. We're in love, and she trusts me."
Bucky's really falling for Sharon's charms now.
"Bucky, you don't need to pretend you love someone else, just because you are scared." You say gentle. " We both can manage that, we can work on that, together."
He stays silent for a bit.
"I'm not pretending anything. With her, it's..." you can hear the joy in his voice.
"You don't know what it's like when I'm with her, to feel her touch, to hear her smile... It's different with her, I actually want to be with her.”
You grab your last items and then walk to the front door. " I hope you won't regret that" you say and leave.
He lets you leave, knowing how stubborn you can be when you're upset. But he will regret it. He already does.
He sits down on the couch in silence. He should go after you, he shouldn't have let you leave like this.
But then Sharon comes and sits right next to him, putting her arms around his neck, clinging to him.
Timeskip (Three weeks later, you get a call from Sam, telling you Bucky changed back into the Winter soldier and that he is currently destroying the SHIELD base. Sams wants you to come quickly because nobody comes through to the Winter soldier or Bucky. You sigh but still go to the SHIELD base to see what is happening, you even see Sharon there but the Winter Soldier doesn't seem to like her. You stop beside Sam who looks happy to see you here.)
Sam smiles at you, relieved to see you. He knows you're one of the only people who Bucky would actually care to listen to.
The Winter Soldier is destroying the SHIELD base, tearing things apart and shouting.
Sharon's nearby, but Bucky seems to have forgotten about her.
"I thought he wouldn't get near Hydra again, that all of you didn't let him go destroying the hydra base as a mission. How wrong did go your last mission?" you say softly to sam.
Sam shrug his shoulders .
"He was on a mission to destroy a hydra base, the one right here, but apparently something went wrong."
You glance at the Winter Soldier. He's still breaking things and shouting. Sam sighs.
"Sharon's trying to talk to him, so far he's not interested..."
"No wonder, Winter doesn't like her" you grumble with a sigh.
Sam sights too.
"He's not usually this bad when he changes back" he explains.
"This time it's different because of... You know..."
"Because of our break up?" You ask gentle.
"Is he not happy with being with Sharon?"
Sam nods. "He's not happy, and he's not handling his emotions well. And the fact that he's still with Sharon... He's confused, he's trying to deny his feelings for you and it's... just making his mind a mess."
You sigh " I will handle that."
Then you step into the room where Sharon and the Winter Soldier are. Sharon looks like a mess.
The Winter Soldier doesn't even blink when you walk in. He's got a look of determination on his face, and his eyes are fixed on Sharon who is trying to talk to him, but Bucky's not interested.
Sharon's hair is all out of place, she looks scared and desperate.
"Winter, do you really need to be so mean to her?" You ask gently and walk closer.
The Winter Soldier stares at you, his eyes filled with rage and frustration.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I want to be mean to her."
Sharon looks at you, and at first it's relief, but she slowly understands that you're not going to defend her.
"Is it because Bucky wants to be with her and you don't?"
The Winter Soldier looks like he suddenly realizes something.
You notice that he's slightly distracted from the idea of hurting Sharon and actually looking at you.
He raises his voice.
"Bucky wants to be with Sharon, but I hate her..."
You slowly nod. But as you want to answer the jet sways a bit and you all stumble a little to the side as the jet tilts to the side.
You don't see how a few metal pipes threaten to fall on you and before that happens, the Winter Soldier is with you and protects you from the falling pipes with his metal arm.
You're shocked by his sudden change of behavior, and also by his sudden reaction. He protects you, making sure you're safe. His reaction is much quicker than yours, or anyone else's and it's clear that all his attention is now on you.
"Winter" you say lovely, your soft eyes meet his. He doesn't change back into Bucky but you see the love that the Winter Soldier has for you.
His eyes meet yours and you feel like he's looking into your soul. The love and affection in his eyes...
He's still standing in front of you, protecting you.
You can feel his warmth and his closeness.
Sharon is looking at you two, her look of desperation gone now, replaced by something else...
"Winter, thank you." You whisper softly.
He nods slightly, clearly understanding that you're thanking him.
Sharon's starting to look angry and jealous now. She's clearly noticed that he paid no attention to her, and was completely focused on you.
This time Sharon starts to mock you.
She points at you and laughs.
"He's just pretending to care about you. He doesn't love you, he doesn't even like you. He's with me, not with you!" it pains you to hear her say those things, to see the contempt in her eyes and hear the jealousy in her voice.
"Yeah, Bucky is in a relationship with you. But that doesn't mean that the Winter Soldier also wants that" you say calm.
Then you all stumble again as the jet swings in the other direction. Winter immediately stabilizes your stand.
You keep talking to him without even reacting to the movement or the danger. You know Winter will always have your back.
Sharon rolls her eyes and laughs.
"Do you really think he'll choose you over me? He needs someone in his life and you're not even there for him. He wants a real relationship, a real woman, not someone like you!"
“I don't care about your opinion, the only thing that is important is that Winter and even Bucky feels comfortable.”
She stares down at the ground, her jaw clenched and her face flushed with anger.
You wonder if she's realizing that her relationship with him isn't as secure as she thought…
Sharon laughs again.
"You're so stupid if you actually believe that. Just look at him! He's in love with me, not with you."
You notice her tone change from mocking to one filled with anger and jealousy.
The jet wobbles even more and Winter has to tighten his grip on you to keep both of you standing. The Winter Soldier keeps protecting you, making sure you don't fall and get hurt.
Before you can react Sharon points her gun at you, your eyes weiden slightly surprised that she would do that infront of everyone else. You even can hear Sam grasp surprised.
The Winter Soldier notices too and immediately raises his arm to block the bullet with his metal arm.
His eyes flare when he realizes someone's pointing a gun at you and he won't let that happen.
Sharon is surprised that the bullet doesn't hit you and glares at Bucky who is protecting you.
Sharon yells at you. Then Winter grabs you, you don't even manage to do something else and flee with you out of the big jet towards a helicopter.
The Winter Soldier moves quickly and efficiently, and before anyone can react he's managed to carry you towards a helicopter.
You're stunned at his speed and agility, but you also notice how much he's paying attention to you.
By now Sharon must've realized that she lost.
The Winter Soldier is in charge. Not Bucky.
You can feel his warmth in your arms. His strength as he carries you to the helicopter and then lowers you in. He still stays protecting you, keeping you safe.
Sharon is behind the helicopter, still staring at you with jealousy and contempt but she no longer seems like the same person.
The Winter Soldier seems almost loving towards you, his anger turned into affection.
"Winter?, are you telling me, where we are going?" You ask and let him buckle up the seatbelt around your body and watch him start the helicopter.
The Winter Soldier is focused on starting the helicopter, and he doesn't respond for a bit. He looks at you and you notice his expression is different. The rage is gone.
He's thinking, and you also realize that he's actually considering what he's going to say for once.
Then he finally speaks.
"We're going home.”
"home?" You mumble and watch him drive the helicopter away from SHIELD.
"Yes." his voice is even more gentle now but there is still the roughness in it, his expression has softened.
He focuses on flying the helicopter.
"Home, and then we'll talk.”
Timeskip (A few hours later. He lands the helicopter on a farm that is his.)
The Winter Soldier lands the helicopter next to his Farmhouse.
This is definitely his safe place, you can feel the peace and the comfort.
He turns around to look at you.
"We need to talk.” You nod and sit down on the couch. The Winter Soldier also sits down in front of you, close enough that it feels like he wants to have physical contact with you.
He is still in control, not Bucky.
So far everything is different from before, you can feel how much he's calmed down, how much he likes being this close to you.
"I wanted to apologize…”
"for that what Bucky did? You can't control your other side, Winter. Bucky and you are both in this body, I don't know why Bucky suddenly stopped loving me but It's not your fault, Winter.”
He smiles slightly. Then he moves closer so that his leg is touching yours. His eyes are intense but soft, as if he's really paying attention to every little word you say.
You have to resist the urge to move a little bit closer.
Then he replies.
"I know I can't control the other side, but I did hurt you.. and I'm sorry…”
You smile softly and cup the face of the Winter Soldier softly.
You slightly wish he would stay being the Winter Soldier, loving you further. You missed him so much, you don't care how rough his side that hydra had caused is because he always is so soft to you, only to you. Bucky himself will go back to Sharon. But this wish is unethical and mean of you to think. You sigh.
"I love you, i haven't stopped doing that.”
His expression softens even more as you cup his face.
He feels your hand against his cheek, your fingers gently moving along his jawline.
He leans his head just slightly to the side, leaning a little bit more into your touch.
His hand is moving, reaching out and he's just about to caress your hand, but then he stops, hesitating.
He bites his lip, his gaze lingering on your hand.
He is still the winter soldier, but he's definitely more in love with you than Bucky ever was…
"My Winter, my love. I have missed you so much." You say lovely and put your forehead against his, breathing his scent in. Your hand intertwined with his flesh hand.
The winter soldier doesn't reply, but his arm moves slightly, his fingers wrapping around your hand and holding it tightly.
You are both very close and you can almost feel him wanting to draw you closer, pull you to him and bury his face into your neck, but he stops, resisting the urge.
His eyes are deep and passionate, he really missed you and his love for you is shining through them. He's breathing a little bit harder, and you can feel his heartbeat increasing.
"Tell me, do you know that i love you Winter, i love the Winter soldier, i even love you as Bucky. Especially, i love you, your heart, your soul. I don't care how the other sees you, I see you as something special.”
He squeezes your hand, as if you didn't even need to tell him, as if he always knew that you loved him.
Your words have reassured him though, and his heart beats a little slower, his breathing becomes more relaxed.
He wants to say it back to you, to tell you how much he loves you.
But he's still struggling with his identity. He's still deciding which is the stronger side.
"I love you too..." he whispers.
Your heart warms immediately, having missed to hear this words out of his mouth.
And suddenly, he pulls you closer. He leans his head against your shoulder and wraps his arms around you, his grip tight and loving.
He smells like the farm, like open air and fresh grass.
He's holding you, so close and protecting you.
He's the winter soldier, and he doesn't want to let you go.
“I hated what Bucky did to you, he feared things, but that doesn't give him the right to push you away, my lovely flower. I hated it that he tried to suppress me, hated it that he stayed with this woman. I don't like her. Sharon is not you, she doesn't have this glimmer in her eyes as you have when you look at me.” his voice is rough but soft at the same time and it sends a shiver down your spine.
You hug him back and softly pet his back.
“Don't worry, we have enough time to figure this out.” You say lovely and lean your forehead against his.
He hugs you even tighter, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your scent.
He has finally decided. The winter soldier is in control. Not Bucky. The moment he's been wishing for has finally come.
He's not struggling with his identity anymore. He knows who he is.
His hand touches your face, gentle, caressing.
"I'm not letting you go. I don't want to share you with anyone anymore.”
His voice is filled with affection as he looks at you.
"I've missed you. I've missed being with you. I've missed feeling you..."
He leans his head against you again, and your breath is intermixed.
Sharon definitely cannot compare to you in his eyes, she was always just a replacement for you. He doesn't even want to think about her right now.
His arms are still around you, and your body is pressing against his. It feels so natural that you almost want to stay like this forever…
"I know she's not you." his voice is even rougher now, almost feral.
He presses his face into your neck, his lips just below your ear.
"She's nothing compared to you... I hate her."
He holds you tighter and you can feel the pure hatred and possessiveness coming out of his every pore.
This is the Winter Soldier's way to tell you how much you mean to him.
"I don't want to turn back into Bucky. I want to stay the Winter Soldier with you.”
“Winter, we will figure it out soon. Alright?”
You feel him nod against you, then he moves his body on the sofa and quickly pulls you into his embrace.
You know someday you have to let the Winter Soldier change back into Bucky, but for now you can enjoy your love back in your arms, healing your heart.
Part 2
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier protecting#the winter soldier#winter solider x y/n#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier#winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier fluff#happiness
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Summoning Game Show Part 4
Masterpost
Look. I don't know how to write a sword fight and if I tried this part wouldn't be coming out for a month. So here's this and if I ever do write the sword fight I'll shove it in as part 4.5 or something.
~~~~~
Turns out that Fright Knight bleeds green. Weird. It had taken a moment, both of the fighters taking the time to get to know their opponent before truly engaging in the fight. But after the fight had well and truly started, it hadn’t lasted long. Damian had quickly taken advantage of his speed and the fact that Fright Knight was clearly not used to being limited by gravity.
“So the puzzle currently stands with four letters showing.” Danny gestured as the screen reappeared.
“For winning against Fright Knight, what letter would you like to guess?” Danny asks Damian, who has returned his borrowed sword and is now standing back on the stage.
“I choose the letter O.” Damian’s quick with his answer.
“An amazing choice, Robin. There is an O!”Danny waves his hand and the screen changes.
“The next game is a race! You can pick how you want to race from: bike race, flying race... Can any of you fly?” Danny’s face scrunches slightly as they all answer no. “Apologies, your options are bike race or swim race!”
“Nobody is swimming in radioactive substances!” Nightwing interjects.
“Bike race it is!” Danny agrees cheerfully. “Who will our biker be?”
Tim and Jason turn to look at each other. “Look, if it’s between the two of us to do the brain puzzle at the end, I think we all want that to be you.” Jason states. “Let me take this one.”
Tim nods and Jason stands up. “I’ll do it.”
“Wonderful! You’ll be racing Johnny.” Danny says. “Skulker will be playing defense.”
They are approached by a blond man wearing driving gloves.
“Wait, defense on a race?” Jason asks.
“Yeah, his goal will be to try and let no one win!” Danny is getting very excited. “He makes his own weapons, so I asked him to make some traps and things for this, he was excited to be able to participate.”
Danny jumps off the podium, but floats gently down until he’s next to Johnny, but now his forn doesn’t have any feet, just a wispy tail. Then waves for Jason to join them. As Jason is walking over someone with flames for hair wearing a lot of metal floated past through a door that said 3. Danny noticed Jason’s eye tracking him.
“That was Skulker. He’s going to set up the racetrack. Now we need to go to the garage so you can pick out your bike!” Danny starts walking over to yet another door. “Johnny will be on his usual bike, but you can pick whichever you want out of these.” Danny opened the door and flung it open for Jason, who stood still in the doorway.
“These are all motorcycles.” Jason muttered.
“Well, yeah.”
“Is that a problem?” Johnny asks.
“No.” Jason shakes his head. “I had thought bicycles when I heard bike race, but this works out great.”
Jason goes and looks around at all the bikes, they had a large selection.
“Johnny, remember to keep Shadow in line. I know he’ll want to ride with you because it’ll be fun and everything, but he is not to interfere with the race.”
Johnny nods. “You got it. I’ll make he sure he doesn’t do anything.”
“Good! When Jason is done grabbing his bike, get yours too and I’ll meet you outside room 3!”
Johnny starts walking over to help Jason pick out a bike and Danny heads back into the main room. He floats up to the stands to talk to a few people, then floats back down to the podium and lands on it with two feet again.
“We’ll be watching from here.” Danny tells the boys, who had huddled together sometime while he was gone.
Skulker comes back out of room 3 and heads over to Danny. “Got everything set up.”
“Nothing lethal? You remember that one of them is mostly human, not ghost. He will actually be hurt if you go too far.”
“Mostly?” Tim mouths at Dick. Dick shrugs.
“Got it covered. Non-lethal weaponry, and set up some road hazards.”
Danny nods and Skulker heads back through door number 3, as Johnny and Jason leave the garage, both pushing bikes next to them.
Danny heads over to lead them to the track and get them set up at the starting line.
The room is large, with what looks like three separate zones and the track looks like it’s made of glass, reflecting as green as almost everything else in the Infinite Realms. The first zone looks like a mountain, with the track starting on ground level and going up in winding circular trails up and around the mountain before heading back down. Then there’s a quick jump in it, a ramp leading to a gap in the track, which separates the zones. Zone Two looks like a series of mounds, or small hills like a dirt racing track, some grassy, some muddy, some sandy, all sure to make driving difficult. Another jump leads into Zone Three which looks like a cityscape. There are many different paths you can take through it but you have to go around buildings and what looks like fake traffic.
Johnny and Hood get the bikes set up at the starting line while Danny starts explaining.
“You have to go through all three zones, but the actual paths you take are pretty optional so long as you go through all of them in order. The first zone really only has one path, but the second one has some splits and the third is almost a maze, so you wont get penalized or anything for going down different streets or anything. Main points are you make it up and down the mountain, through the hills, and across the city. If you crash or skid, or Skulker gets you, you are free to keep going so long as you are uninjured.”
Danny then goes back to the podium and gets the screen up and ready to begin.
#batman#danny phantom#dpxdc#dcxdp#fanfiction#my writing#jason todd#red hood#skulker#johnny 13#tim drake#dick grayson#damian wayne#alternate universe#dp x dc crossover
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"i wanna Be Cool, but only if you want me to."
"want to impress you"
synopsis// everyone knows that basketball is the way to someone's heart.
pairing// satoru gojo x gn!reader
word count// 3.8k
contents// college au, basketball au, mutual unknown pining?, friends to lovers?, gojo is a loser, obligatory this is for you and misses
notes// lu wanted a basketball au so lu gets a basketball au. also obviously inspired by the basketball scene in jjk s2 anywho this is just kinda short n goofy :p also inspired by the song i wanna be cool by super whatevr. also i have no idea how basketball works and only ever played for fun so ermmm if anything is wrong bring that up with the universe !
Shoko unwillingly finds herself sitting on a random bench in the boys locker room, her arms crossed as she glares at the two boys in front of her.
“Why did you guys drag me in here?”
Geto speaks up first: “In my defense, this is all on Satoru, and I have no part in this.”
“You still dragged me in here, did you not?”
“…Yes.”
“Then you took part in it.”
Gojo smiles as he smacks Geto on the back. “Exactly! You’re my accomplice.”
Shoko rolls her eyes. “Again, why did you guys drag me in here?”
“A presentation!”
“A presentation I have nothing to do with,” Geto chimes in as he takes a seat beside Shoko.
She briefly raises her eyebrow at Geto before directing it toward Gojo. “A presentation?”
“Yes!”
“I don’t see a projector or anything worth presenting here,” she says, looking around the room unamused.
“A presentation minus the actual presenting part...”
“So you dragged me in here just to talk to me?”
Geto leans in and whispers, “He actually wants to ask you something.”
Gojo stomps his foot like he’s about to throw a tantrum. “Geto shut up!”
“Can you just hurry up, Gojo?" She asks impatiently. “It reeks of axe body spray in here; I think it might actually kill me.”
He ignores her dramatics because, honestly, she’s not wrong. “You're coming to our game tonight, right?”
“I mean, yeah? Who isn't? It's the biggest game of the season.”
Geto adds, “That's what I said!”
“Do you know if Y/N is going?”
“Is that what you seriously dragged me in here for? Why didn't you just ask Y/N themself? You guys are friends, are you not?”
“Well yeah!” Gojo mumbles sheepishly, “But when I asked, they said maybe...”
“That means no,” Geto says quickly through a cough, as if trying to cover it up.
Gojo hears anyway and outstretches his arms toward Geto as if trying to draw attention toward him. “Exactly!” He then brings his hands in front of his face in a praying motion and begs, “Shoko, please!”
“Oh my fucking god, I don't know why you don't just ask them out already.”
“That's what I'm trying to do! But in order to do that, I kinda need them to go to tonight's game.”
Shoko glares at Gojo for what feels like forever, and Gojo glares back like they’ve suddenly entered a staring contest, and it’s Shoko who breaks eye contact first.
She sighs and pushes the hair out of her face as she mumbles, “God, you're lucky I'm tired of both of you pining after each other.”
“Thank you, Shoko!” he beams. “Also here.”
Shoko takes whatever Gojo is handing her and holds it up, her eyes slightly wide as she inspects it. “…Is this your jersey?”
He nods, fully confident within himself now that Shoko has agreed to drag you to the game, but tilts his head at her because he has no idea why she’s confused. “Yeah, I want them to wear it?”
“You make me sick to my stomach, fine.”
“Shoko, do you wanna wear my jersey?” Geto suddenly asks.
She stares at him blankly, as if to ask if he really asked her that, knowing damn well she does not like him like that and she has a girlfriend, though after a few moments he finally gets the hint.
“Oh my god, not like that; I just want someone supporting me too.”
She sighs in relief, “Oh, thank god, don’t scare me like that, but yeah, fine, I’ll wear it.”
“Wait, what the hell?” Gojo exclaims, drawing Shoko’s and Geto’s attention back to him. “Shoko, would you have worn mine if I asked?”
“No.”
“What?! Why the hell not?”
“I like Geto more than I like you.”
He glares at her and quickly points out, “You're lying; if that was true, you wouldn't be helping me!”
Shoko simply shrugs and mumbles a small “bye” before getting up and leaving.
Geto stands up and takes his place next to Gojo, softly patting his back as he whispers, “Dare I say this ends our lifelong debate on who's superior?”
Gojo shrugs his hand off of him and speaks harshly through clenched teeth, “Shut. Your. Mouth.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
“Why would I want to go watch a bunch of sweaty men fight over balls?” You mumble offhandedly, focusing your attention on netflix playing on your phone rather than on her.
“Ok, Y/N, first of all, there's only one ball, and second of all, did you forget Gojo is on the basketball team?”
You quickly turn off your phone and sit up, clasping your hands together in your lap. “….Have I ever mentioned that basketball is actually my favorite sport?”
“Jesus Christ,” she mutters under her breath, pinching her nose bridge. “You're so obvious; why haven't you told him yet?”
“Are you insane? Gojo is hot, and on the basketball team, do you know how many people he already has crushing on him? I'm literally just another name on that list.”
“Sure,” she nods, “But the difference is that you're his friend too; you have more of a chance than anyone else.”
You sigh and frown at her. “Doubt.”
Shoko shakes her head, knowing that you two could spend all day here in your dorm debating whether you have a chance or not, but that’s not what she’s here for, so she’ll let you believe what you want, knowing that (hopefully) Gojo pulling whatever it is he wants to pull will prove you wrong.
“Whatever, put this on,” she says, throwing the jersey at you.
You catch it, your mouth slightly agape as you stare at it curiously. “…Isn't this?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, is it?”
“Shoko.”
“Can you just trust me?”
“I'm literally just gonna look like another one of his groupies," you say, disdain and disappointment lacing your words as your eyes dart back and forth between her and the jersey.
She smiles, and it’s off-putting because it’s not her normal smile; no, you know, this is the smile she only wears when she’s about to drop a bomb on you. “Difference is that that's his actual jersey.”
You freeze.
“What?”
“I’ll save you a seat. Bye,” she says as she walks out of your dorm.
The slam of your door restarts your heart, and suddenly it and your mind are racing at 100 miles per hour, and the only thing you can do is word vomit despite the fact that Shoko is gone.
“What do you mean by that?! What do you mean this is his actual jersey?!” You run and fling open your door to yell out into the hallway, “Get back here!?”
Shoko is a good bit away at this point, but she still hears you call out for her and acknowledges that with a wave, yet she still keeps walking away, and you're stuck in your doorway with your chest heaving. You look back down at the jersey in your hands.
Holy shit.
Not only is this a jersey with Gojo’s number on it, but it’s his jersey. How did Shoko even get this? Did she just take it without him knowing? Too many thoughts are in your head, but there’s only one that keeps overlapping the others, there’s only one that’s consistent, only one that electrifies every neuron in your body:
Holy shit, this is Gojo’s jersey.
Fuck the questions and fuck the answers you know you won’t get; the only thing that matters to you right now is that you have and are about to wear Gojo’s jersey. You have to be dreaming; really, that’s the only logical answer, but holy fuck, if you’re dreaming, you do not plan on waking up anytime soon—or ever.
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
The two teams quickly start filling up the court and taking up their respective spaces as they warm up, but Gojo, being Gojo, isn't doing that. Instead, he’s standing on the sidelines, looking in at the crowd of people starting to take their seats for the game, and his heart is racing as he searches the crowd for you, and it drops when he inevitably doesn’t find you, but he’s not discouraged, not yet at least, because the game hasn’t officially even started yet, so there’s still time for you to show up.
There’s still time.
He has to keep reminding himself that the whole time he’s warming up—now that he’s actually being forced to, though it’s a half-assed warm-up—he and his coach don’t even know whether what he’s doing could be considered a warm-up in the first place. The game is about to start any second now when Geto approaches Gojo.
“Nothing?”
Gojo’s head drops as he reluctantly shakes it.
Geto hums and searches the stands for you, but when he doesn't find you either, he tries to find the next best person, Shoko, and it's quite easy to find her considering she’s wearing Geto's jersey.
“Shoko!”
She looks down from the bleachers and sees Geto staring at her as he gestures toward Gojo, and she knows he's trying to ask where you are, but in all honesty, she has no idea either. She shrugs, and even from as high up as she is, she can hear Geto groan before grabbing Gojo by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.
“I'm sure they’ll come, dude.”
Gojo blankly stares at Geto, an eyebrow raised skeptically, as if to say, really? but before he can verbally reply, their coach comes over and removes Geto’s hand from Gojo’s shoulder to place his own hand there.
“I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, fix it.”
Geto and Gojo tense up at his tone, full of nothing but pure determination. This isn't him asking; this is him demanding that Gojo get his shit together.
“This is the biggest game yet, and I'm not gonna let you and some petty college drama get in the way of that. You're our best player. Act like it.”
Gojo can only nod. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and it's like his throat is closing, but he tries to will the feeling away. Though his reaction is enough for his coach, who starts walking off.
Geto stares up at Gojo with his eyebrows knit, concern lacing his voice, “Gojo...”
Gojo shakes his head and takes a deep breath before flashing Geto his signature smile. “I'm fine, Geto; cmon, we got a basketball game to win.”
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
To be totally honest, the reason you were running so late to the game was because you were mentally shitting your pants the entire time you were getting ready. For a good chunk of time, you just sat on your bed with the jersey laid out in front of you, staring at it. Just staring at it, that's all. Because yes, even though you said fuck the questions and fuck the answers, you very much could not do that, not when too many questions and unknown answers were flooding your brain like a dam had cracked. You think you probably would've stayed like that all day and night, missing the game entirely, if not for Shoko spam calling your phone.
“What?”
“Don't 'what' me, where the fuck are you?” She snaps through the phone.
“Uh, getting ready?”
“Y/N, the game started twenty minutes ago.”
“Oh shit,” you say, hopping off your bed and quickly grabbing the jersey.
“Yeah, oh shit! Get your ass down here!”
You don't bother saying goodbye; instead, you quickly hang up, throw the jersey on as fast as you can, and bolt out the door. The halls are empty as you race through them, and you're not surprised; everyone is already at the game—everyone but you—and you speed up your pace just a smidge more. God, you're an idiot, missing the best game of the season—okay, you don't actually care about that. God, you're an idiot, missing seeing Gojo and maybe getting answers on how Shoko obtained his jersey—that's better.
You get to the gym in record time, slightly surprised at how quickly you got there, but you ignore that as you try to catch your breath before walking in and try to prepare yourself for the amount of noise that will assault your ears when you do. You can already hear how loud it is; the walls not doing very much at all to muffle the yells of people. You walk in and wince slightly at the noise as you look around for Shoko. She immediately finds you and waves her hand in the air for you to find, as does Utahime, who's sitting next to her. You smile and quickly make your way toward them, apologizing to the people you pushed through to get to them in the first place. You take your seat next to Shoko with a sigh.
“What did I miss?” you ask, leaning forward slightly just so you can look at both Utahime and Shoko.
Utahime has a small grimace on her face, and Shoko merely motions toward the scoreboard, and the minute you look, your jaw drops. Gojo’s team was losing. No. Losing isn't even the right word here; they were getting absolutely destroyed. They had zero points—none at all. You look back toward the two girls in disbelief.
“What the fuck?”
“Gojo is literally sucking so much ass that it's throwing everyone else off,” Utahime says with a shrug before glancing down at your clothes. “Are you wearing his jersey?”
You clear your throat awkwardly and look away, ignoring the smirk on Shoko's face.
“So, uh, do we know why Gojo’s sucking ass?” You ask after a brief moment of silence.
“Nope,” Utahime responds with a shake of her head.
“I do,” Shoko says nonchalantly.
Your head snaps back toward her. “What? Why?”
“Yeah, you didn't tell me either!”
Shoko rolls her eyes and ignores both of you as she loudly calls out to Gojo, who, by some grace of god, hears her over the hundreds of other people yelling for him. Gojo’s eyes immediately find hers, and he watches how she subtly jerks her head to the side, and like some angel descended from the heavens, like a god showing itself in a moment of dire, he looks and finds you sitting there in his jersey, and he can't help the smile on his face, can't help how just your presence lit a fire underneath him, can't help how just seeing you gave him his pep back in his step.
Gojo finds Geto’s eyes on the court and nods determinedly. They are winning this game, whether it's the last thing Gojo does. He's not going to look like a fool in front of you. So that's exactly what Gojo does. Once the second period starts, Gojo steals back the ball with a new sudden ease, and by halftime, he’s gotten the team caught up to the other one, starting the third period with a tie.
“How the hell did he do that? I thought you guys said he sucked!”
“Aw man, I was rooting for the other team,” Utahime says, frowning, and you have to resist the urge to chew her out in defense of Gojo.
Shoko shrugs. “He was till you know…”
You stare at her blankly. “No, I don't know, actually. Care to enlighten me?”
“No, I do not,” she says before turning to Utahime. “And don't worry, they're only tied; there's still a chance the other team will win.”
Utahime cheerfully hums as she rests her head on Shoko’s shoulder. “You’re right!”
“Don't encourage her to root for the other team?!”
Utahime sticks her tongue out at you, and before any of you can say anything else, a loud buzzer rings across the gym, indicating a point was made, and to your delight, it was for Gojo’s team. For the rest of the third period, it was just buzzer after buzzer as Gojo’s team took back their rightful place on the scoreboard, completely smashing the other team into the ground, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Watching Gojo in his element was doing detrimental things to your crush on him, only making it worse, but you can't even seem to care. Shoko looks over to you and laughs.
“I can practically see the hearts in your eyes.”
You scoff. “Shut up!”
Down on the court, they had just started their last two-minute break between third and fourth period, with the coaches gathering their respective teams into a huddle.
“Alright guys,” Gojo’s coach began, “Keep your heads in the game; we’re taking this victory home, got it?”
All the boys nod hurriedly, and the coach leaves them to do what they need to before the last period starts, but Gojo doesn’t let them get far.
“Whatever fucking happens, I'm getting that last score, got it?”
Everyone on the team exchanges uneasy glances, and Geto rolls his eyes and sighs before apologizing for Gojo.
“He just has a plan and wants to do something, guys.”
The boys nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.
“If you guys mess this up for me, I swear to god, I will make you wish you were never born,” Gojo says with his usual smile, but in this case, all his smile does is make him seem feral.
Geto slaps Gojo across the back of his head and huffs, “He doesn’t mean that, don't worry.”
“Oh, I fucking mean it.”
“Gojo, shut the fuck up.”
Before anyone else can say anything, the timer goes off, and into the last minutes of the game they go. As the game goes on, everyone is on the edge of their seat, even if deep down they know who will win. You and Utahime are no exception to this, but apparently Shoko is.
“Why the fuck are you guys on the edge of your seats? It's obvious we’re gonna win.”
You go to glare at her but can’t even hold your stare long enough because you're so enthralled by the game. “Still, it's so nervewracking!”
Utahime laughs. “I'm only on the edge of my seat because I want the other team to win.”
“Why are you such a hater, dude?” you ask defensively.
Utahime doesn’t mind; she knows all too well about your little crush on Gojo, so she doesn’t take offense to your tone. “When it comes to Gojo, I'm always a hater.”
You finally find it in you to glare at her. “I hope Shoko breaks up with you.”
She rolls her eyes and glares back. “Oh, haha, you're so mature.”
You say nothing but stick your tongue out at her childishly, and she does the same, to which Shoko groans and rolls her eyes before grabbing both of your heads and turning them to face the game.
“You can fight after the game; there's only a few seconds left.”
Gojo glances at the time and realizes it’s now or never. He finds that Geto has the ball and calls out for him. Geto, on the other hand, hesitates to pass him the ball, with a look on his face asking if he really wants to do this, and Gojo can only nod. How could he not want to do this? This is the only thing he can do; it's not like he knows how to ask someone out the normal way, so this will do; it has to. Gojo tries to control his breathing as he makes his way to the hoop, the ball dribbling in tune with his heartbeat, and nothing matters to him in that moment except you and scoring—his surroundings completely drowning out. Everyone holds their breath waiting for him to shoot, and right before he does, his eyes lock onto yours.
“This is for you, Y/N!” He yells out as he shoots, and…
And he misses.
Horribly.
And there's no chance for him to redeem himself because the minute the ball hits the ground, the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the game, and everyone seemingly ignores whatever the fuck he just did and erupts into an uproar at the fact that they won regardless of Gojo’s miss.
“What-“
Shoko slaps a hand over her mouth, attempting and failing to hold in her laughter. “Did he just fucking miss?”
Utahime is hunched over, her head between her knees, laughing. “Oh my fucking god, he's an idiot!”
You blink, not moving, not saying anything, but with how hard Shoko is laughing and Utahime leaning against her as she laughs as well, Shoko ends up bumping into you, and she instantly grows quiet, her head snapping toward you.
“Oh, why are you still here?”
“Huh?”
"Why aren’t you down there?” she asks, pointing down to the court.
“Am… Am I supposed to be?”
“Uh duh!” Utahime speaks up, peeking out from behind Shoko. “He made that shot for you! Well, he missed that shot for you.”
“Oh,” you say blankly. “Oh. Oh shit.”
You stood up abruptly, and with how fast you went down the bleachers, you almost tripped once you made it onto the ground. You quickly catch yourself, and the moment you look up to find Gojo, he’s already standing right in front of you.
“You're-you're wearing my jersey,” he says breathlessly, but not in a I-can’t-breathe way, more in a holy-shit-my-crush-is-actually-wearing-my-jersey way.
You swallow thickly and nod. Your gaze flickers down to the jersey before going back to his face. “I am.”
“You are.”
“What was that Gojo?”
He seems to grimace at your question. “Ah, well, you see, I was actually gonna say if I make this, you owe me a date, but that’s a really long sentence to shout, and what if I didn’t make it? That would’ve been so embarrassing.”
You laugh under your breath. “Gojo, you didn’t make it regardless.”
He frowns. “Don’t remind me.”
You smile and push a strand of hair stuck to his forehead out of the way, watching how he blushes furiously at your touch, and it makes your heart swoon. Who knew the confident number-one basketball player could crumble so readily under your touch?
“You know, I’m still more than happy to owe you a date.”
He smirks as he pulls you closer toward him by your waist and coos, “Yeah?"
“Yeah… But get the hell off of me, Gojo; you’re sweaty and you stink,” you grumble as you push against his chest, trying to free yourself.
Gojo ignores you and pulls you in closer (if even possible), his body engulfing yours as he rubs his face against yours, making sure his sweat rubs off on you too.
You struggle against his hold. “Gojo gross!”
“Sorry, I can't hear you over the people. What are you saying? Hug you closer?”
“Gojo, don’t you dare.”
You hear him chuckle before rubbing up against you again, and you groan but stop resisting, which he hums happily at before starting to pull away. You watch how his face abruptly twists into feigned disgust.
"Ew, Y/N, get the hell off of me; you’re sweaty and you stink,” he mocks as he pushes you out of his hold.
“I hate you.”
“If you hated me, you wouldn’t be going on a date with me,” he singsongily says.
“Yeah, not anymore,” you mumble with a wry smile as you start walking away.
“Hey, wait, Y/N, come back!”
©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD
#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#bimbo's one shots#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#bimbo’s one shots; jjk#jjk oneshot#jujutsu kaisen one shot#jjk x gender neutral reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x gender neutral reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo oneshot#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru oneshot#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen gojo
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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | x.
Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
Disbelief shimmers in William’s green gaze.
“You’re joking…” He cradles your face, searching your eyes. They are steadily filling with tears. He releases you, retreating as his face distorts with shock. “You’re…not?” He runs his fingers through his brown locks. “God, I’m such an idiot.” He unleashes a humorless laugh. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
Your stomach sinks.
“This entire time. I waited for you. I trusted you. And you just…What? A-Are you with him now?” The betrayal quivering in his tone shatters your heart to pieces.
You lower your head and mumble, “It’s complicated…”
“No it’s not. It’s actually quite simple. Do you love him or do you love me? Do you want to marry me or do you want to marry him?”
William’s anger and frustration coat the air, his voice growing louder with every word. You tremble. Your fiancé’s never yelled at you like this before. You’ve argued, of course, like every couple does. But never like this. And never has he looked at you like that. Like you’re a stranger. You wish the earth would open up and swallow you.
“I…”
“Answer me!”
You jolt and step back, the heel of your shoe hitting the bottom of the stairs.
Your father appears in the corner of your vision. An exhale of surprise leaves you. He wedges himself between you and William.
“Do not dare raise your voice at my daughter, young man,” Strabo thunders. You gape at his back. It’s the first time you’ve heard your dad use such a furious tone of voice.
William lifts his hands defensively.
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand-”
“I think it’s best if you go. Now,” your father urges, pointing at the door.
Your fiancé’s shoulders sag. He tosses you one last, heavy look, his jaw clenching.
“Yeah, maybe it’s for the best,” he belatedly grits out.
The second William slams the door shut, you’re in your father’s arms. The fat tears rolling down your cheeks drench his shirt.
“Dad…”
“It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay.”
He rubs soothing circles on your back as you bury your head in his chest. You sniffle as a sob spills from your throat.
You doubt anything will ever be okay.
The rest of the day is spent in your room weeping underneath your blankets. It’s a wonder there’s any water left in your body, the ceaseless flow of tears soaking your pillows and sheets. Ma and Dad keep visiting your room, bringing you food and trying their best to lighten your spirits.
But nothing can keep you from drowning in your sorrows. William was the best thing that ever happened to you. You remember when you first met him at the University. The two of you were paired for a project and ended up hitting it off while working together. You didn’t even expect him to ask you out. It was no secret half the girls in your cohort harbored a crush on him. And with his boyish charm and outgoing personality, a contrast to your more withdrawn, lonely nature, you never imagined he’d seek your company past the project.
But he did, constantly finding lame excuses to talk to you like asking for your notes on a class or lying about needing a pen for a quizz. One thing led to another and, after a few months of courting, he got on one knee and asked for your hand.
Then Janus died. Your world collapsed. Colors dimmed around you. Everything stopped making sense. Still…William did. Whenever you were around him, you could pretend away your grief, laugh away your pain.
Your heart wasn’t so broken.
And now…you don’t think it’ll ever be put back together.
For days on end, you don’t leave your bed. The sun rises; it sets. Yet the same pains shackle you to your bedroom. Quicksands of guilt and sorrow suffocate you.
…Until you’re swept by a sickness one day.
It happens a little under a week after your return. You rush to your bathroom and pitch forward, dry heaving the near vacant contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. You then huddle on the floor, hugging your stomach as pain pulses through your midriff. Your brows collide in confusion. Hardly a bite of anything has crossed past your lips these days, as you only chewed on a few glum bites of the meals Ma brought to your room. Yet you are nauseous, cramps twisting your insides.
You bolt upward, racing to the toilet bowl again as another surge of queasiness takes you. Following that, you crash into a heap on the floor. Shuddering, you wipe the back of your mouth.
You crawl onto the floor, all the way to your bed.
Every day after this one, you awake sick and cranky, the same ache and nausea plaguing you. You also begin to experience faint headaches. It becomes dire enough for your parents to summon a doctor. However many times, he checks you out, he finds nothing amiss or wrong with you. Throughout the checkup, concern is etched on your parents’ faces. You’re forced to promise them that you’re alright and that, to prove it, you’ll show up for family dinner as you did before. Your father pats your cheek, visibly relieved, but the concern on your mother’s face doesn’t relent. She keeps scrutinizing you with a strange look on her face, one you’re not sure what to make of.
Still, even as you hug Ma and Dad, dread creeps inside you. Something else could still be wrong with you. The kind of thing there isn’t a quick fix-it for. The kind of thing you’d have to deal with for the rest of your life.
But you don’t let your mind wander there. Not yet.
As you end the day with yet another bout of vomiting and stabbing cramps, your mother rushes upstairs. She sinks to her knees at your side and strokes your hair.
“Are you alright? I heard you.” She frowns as she takes in your shuddering frame. “Perhaps we should call the doctor again so he can do more tests…”
You bristle. More tests would mean exploring other possible causes for your affliction. You can’t risk that. Not with Ma and Dad involved.
“It’s nothing, Ma,” you dismiss with haste. You put a hand on her arm. “Could we go to the apothecary this evening?” Her puzzled look draws a nervous chuckle from you. Twisting your hands, you chime falsely, “I bet it’s just a nasty stomach bug.”
Her frown deepens. “A bug? But you haven’t eaten very much lately.”
You shrug.
“It can still happen.” You slip on a mask of cheerfulness. “I’m sure I’ll be right as rain again with some ginger and camomile, Ma.”
“If you say so,” she says, returning your smile.
You’re a bit unsettled as you find yourself outside. The brightness of the sun sears your eyelids. You squint at the blue sky. You wobble down the stairs as your mother holds your arm. You’ve grown so accustomed to keeping yourself cloistered inside, either by your own will or the will of…others. Strolling along the cobblestoned path while the winter breeze caresses your face has a strange tickle running through you.
An awkward silence hangs between you and your mother once you’re in the back of a taxi.
Your fingers twiddle in your lap as you keep your eyes low. Who knows what Ma could discern in your gaze. You never managed to conceal much from her ever since you were a little girl. She was always freakishly aware of every blunder, bad grade and secret.
Her motherly instinct is infallible.
“Dad and I haven’t seen much of you these days,” she suddenly notes, causing your head to whip up. “I know you’re sad about William but…” She hesitates, gauging you before stating, “I think it’s a good thing.”
“Ma…”
“He was never right for you,” she insists, her inflection stern. “You’re a Plinth. You should aim higher.”
“Mother!” you hiss.
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but it needed to be said.” She reaches out to drape her hand over yours. “You’re hurting right now but it’ll all be for the best in the end. You have a bright future ahead of you. That young man, nice as he is, was just holding you back.”
Mouth agape, you stare at your mother. While you know that she and Dad have never cradled William near their heart and weren’t too thrilled with your decision to marry him, you never expected her to be so callous about your engagement ending. In her mouth, it nearly sounds like a business deal gone wrong. But she knew William, talked to him many times, saw you with him. She has to understand how much losing him means to you. How can she be so cold and dismissive about it? You quell the budding sobs in your throat.
The quickness of the drive to the shop is a small mercy you bask in. After your mother spoke, the air in the car grew heavier, every lungful becoming torturous.
You hastily climb outside the car once it comes to a stop in front of the apothecary.
Windchimes sing above the door as you enter, your mother at your heel.
You linger by every shelf, pretending to be lost between all the labels.
“We could call the clerk to help…”
“No, it’s okay,” you cut her off. You giggle and shrug. “I like taking my time. Actually, you know what?” You grab a vial and shake it, pretending to study the label. You wave your hand at your mother. “I’m gonna stay behind and gather some more herbs. You should go. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Befuddlement knits her brow. “I could stay…”
“I won’t be long,” you snap, your lips curving in a wide, painful grin. You squeeze her arm, your tone softening. “I promise. Just wait for me in the car, Ma. Then we could stop by a café and have a bite. How does that sound?”
She yields with a nod. “That sounds lovely.”
Relief fills you when she walks away.
The second she’s out the door, you’re racing to the front desk.
“I need a pregnancy test, please,” you blurt out, your voice barely above a breath as you keep stealing wary glances behind you.
The mere utterance of the request has your insides coiling in horror. For a while, you were in staunch denial of that being a possibility. But you mulled it over, long and hard. It made you realize that, besides the sickness you’ve experienced lately, you also can’t remember the last time you had your monthly bleeding. You’ve never been late before. Not even once. And while things are a little fuzzy in your head…you’re pretty sure over two months isn’t a good sign.
The clerk blinks at you, seemingly taken aback. Still, she silently moves her head in agreement and dives through a door leading to what you assume to be the back of the shop.
The wait is agony. You count every second, praying your mother won’t show up out of the blue and start questioning what you’re up to.
When the clerk returns, you free a deep breath.
She places a small, clear vial inside your palm. You give her an inquiring look.
“You must…relieve yourself and transfer it in this vial,” she explains. “If it turns blue, well congratulations are in order.” Her smile dies as she notices your tight expression. “Or perhaps…not?”
“Thank you very much,” you say, carefully squeezing the vial and shoving it at the very bottom of your bag.
For good form, you ask for some medicinal herbs, some for stomach pains and others for sleeplessness. Just in case your mother inquires about your purchases. One can never be too careful.
When you’re back inside the car, your mother beams at you.
“Did you find what you were looking for, sweetie?”
“Y-Yes, I did, mother,” you stammer, clearing your throat and letting your gaze roam outside the window.
You’re thankful she cannot hear the cacophony of your pounding heart.
You spend the rest of the evening with your mother, drinking tea and eating cake while she babbles about trivial topics. You try your best to listen, giving vague, half-hearted replies.
But your mind is already far away, a million thoughts bumping inside your head.
The entire evening, you’re restless, eager to go home and get answers to your questions.
It requires every morsel of self-control within you not to make a beeline upstairs once the two of you are back home. You give a swift apology and tell your mother the day’s exhausted you and you need a quick nap. She reminds you that dinner is in less than two hours and you need to dress up. You don’t argue, all too happy to finally be on your own.
Once the door to your bedroom is closed, you slump against it, all the tension in your body draining all at once. You take a minute to breathe, leaning your head against the wood.
You retrieve the vial inside your bag. Your hands quake. Your heart drums.
Hesitation slithers through you. What if you just tossed it out the window, forgot about all this?
No. This isn’t something you can cower or hide from. You have to face this.
Your entire life could change in an instant. And it might be about more than just your life.
Shaking from head to toe, you proceed inside the bathroom. You pee in a glass and pour a small amount in the vial.
Insides painfully tight, you chew on your lip as you wait.
Stay clear, stay clear, you pray in silence, as if the water could hear your plea and change the course of your fate by some fantastical twist.
After a few minutes, blue starts bleeding inside the water. It doesn’t stop until all of it has morphed into the horrifying color, bubbles rising to the surface.
The air in your lungs falters. The vial crashes to the floor, scattering into tiny shards as you collapse on the floor of your bathroom.
You gape at the blue puddle on the floor. Maybe it’s a mistake. Tests aren’t always foolproof. They’re wrong sometimes. Perhaps yours was defective.
For a while, you loiter in your denial, conjuring a plethora of reasons why this isn’t happening.
Then you slowly blink. You realize the puddle hasn’t moved. The shards are still on the floor. The blue isn’t gone.
An audible exhale bursts from your chest.
Despite your desire to pretend otherwise, you can’t escape the truth. The ghastly, awful truth. There are no more ifs and buts, no ‘perhaps’, no ‘maybe’…Just the reality that will make itself known to all much sooner than you’d like.
You’re going to be a mother. You’re carrying Coriolanus Snow’s child. The urge to puke, cry and scream all at once surges through you.
“Sweetie, dinner’s ready.”
Your mother’s abrupt call from downstairs has your heart miss a beat.
“I’m not hungry, mom,” you reply automatically, tamping down the quiver in your voice.
“You promised,” she yells.
Right. You did. Perhaps it was foolish of you. How can you carry on with dinner and smile at your parents as if everything’s normal? As if your whole life didn’t take a gigantic turn…the biggest one there could ever be.
You collect yourself. You rub your sweaty palms on your skirt and pick a random dress from your wardrobe. You’re a little shocked to find the closet half-empty, gut wrenching as you remember a good chunk of your clothes are still at the Snows’ apartment.
Emptying your thoughts, you get dressed, your fingers slipping as you fumble with the buttons of your dress.
Get it together.
You slap your cheeks and will yourself to act normal. You’ll figure out the next steps later. Right now, you need to make it through dinner.
The facsimile of a smile nudges your lips upward as you drag your feet downstairs.
However all shallow semblance of happiness evaporates from your face when you take in who’s standing at the bottom of the stairs by your parents.
His smooth lilt ripples through the room.
“Hey, princess.”
Your stomach drops to your feet. Victory sways in his cobalt orbs as he savors your reaction.
He looks the exact same as the last time you saw him, simply more put together in his crisp red suit and white shirt, his blonde locks slicked back from his face.
Every cell in your body is screeching at you to run from him. As far as you can. For as long as you can. And never look back.
Your fingers clutch the stairs’ handrail.
Your appalled gaze turns to your parents. They are entirely too calm for your liking. In fact, they appear more wary of you than him.
“What’s going on? W-Why is he here?”
Your father takes careful steps towards you.
“Sweetheart, maybe we should sit, have a discussion as a family…”
You scoff, shying away from his outstretched hand.
“But he’s not…He’s not part of our family. Or did you forget, Dad?”
Your father’s shoulders fall, a great weariness settling upon his features. In that moment, he looks every bit of his years, all the built-up grief and exhaustion displayed on his face.
“Yes, but, in the current circumstances-”
“What circumstances?” you interrupt.
“Stop it,” Ma snaps. She sighs, approaching you. You stiffen. “We’re not stupid.” She lifts her hand to cup your cheek, her voice mellowing. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you, sweetie?”
Your eyes bulge, shock striking you mute.
Coriolanus uses that moment to join your mother’s side. He places a soothing hand on her shoulder.
Your heart threatens to leap outside your chest when his eyes lock with yours.
“Your father’s right, princess. How about you come down so we can talk about this…” He flashes you a wicked smile. “As a family.”
#dark!coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#hunger games#tbosas fanfiction#dark!coriolanus snow x reader
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Traffic/Life series roster as dinosaurs
A lot of these don't make for very good hybrids unless you wanna get into freaky territory or full on centaur but... Hope it's a fun scroll nonetheless!
Grian - Novialoidea
A small birdie... The name also means "New wings" which I find fun. New lives and death games to be part of, new wings to accompany him... (Honorable mention to "Shuvuuia" the "desert bird" who unfortunately is not a pterosaur (doesn't fly)) (Yes we're including pterosaurs! Just using "dinosaur" as a conveient blanket term)
Tango - Aratasaurus / Pyroraptor
Fire raptor! Either works just fine and Tango as a skittery little raptor is perfect for a creature like him
Scar - Apatosaurus
"Deceptive Lizard" harkening back to Scar's scamming tendencies. Though I've always liked the idea of him being some larger gentler animal in any hybrid scenario and a long-neck fits the bill well. He can poke his nose into people's conversations easily to start marketing something useless to them and swishes his tail to ward off anyone who's about to stop him
Impulse - Nasutoceratops
Ren - Regaliceratops
Horns. COOL horns. I don't know what else you want from me ceratopses are just way too awesome. Nasutoceratops is a wicked cool dinosaur for having its horns point so forward much like a bull and I for one can jive with some Impulse bull symbolism. Bulls are often viewed as strong, sturdy and loyal, traits also assigned to Impulse a LOT of the time. But though he IS intensely loyal in many cases (+ Ceratopses are also known for how they defend their own!), and he's not very outward about the following traits, he can get quite petty and bitchy and hold grudges. Still, you don't think of that when you look at him and he seems to agree! Eg him feeling like he should be accepted into Cleo's alliance in 3rd life without actually proving himself when Cleo was rightfully hesitant, at which Impulse more or less rolled his eyes. And him proclaiming "betrayal!" when killed by Bdubs when their alliance was as firm as a rat's tail
(And I feel the need to point this out too just in case: "bulls are also known for their temper" yeah but they're not like that! Bulls like many animals become defensive when exposed to aggravating behavior or movement! Which you could work into Impulse's grudge holding and intense loyalty...? I don't know enough about him sorry but do with that what you will)
Regaliceratops! Regal!! Crown shaped frill!!! Need I say more?
Gem - Therizinosaurus
Theris are so bad bitch coated to me and I would love to have one as my wife I mean um I couldn't decide on a less generic specimen so Gem can just be a Theri! A herbivore - often associated with the belief that herbivores are gentle passive creatures, but far from it, especially with Gem! She bares her claws like it's no one's business
Martyn - Stygmoloch
A Pachy with a tough head and a tendency to bonk people - I think it fits Martyn's tendency to perpetuate drama haha. The Stygmoloch's name though more or less translates to "demon of the styx river", the river of the underworld representing loathing of death. To me this makes sense with all the watcher lore (that I have a hard time understanding but whatever!!) especially with how Martyn became in LL. The watchers themselves don't loathe death (??) of course. They're death games. But someone within the game trying to stay alive and win? Probably loathes the idea of themselves dying. I have no clue what Im saying
Pearl - Carnotaurus
Ok maybe a hot take not to make her into a pteradon or even a raptor with wing-like features but those just didn't fit that well in my opinion. Rather I wanted her to have some kind of horn motif in place of her wings as visual symbolism for her character. I'd like to imagine her having fine horns, to then have them damaged (one broken off) and simultaneously the other more grown out. Think of how domesticated goats for example have their horns trimmed. I think human hybrids with horns would do the same to keep them from becoming a bother but Pearl would neglect to after her heartbreak in DL. I was heavily considering the Diabloceratops for this, especially because of the name (Devil horned face - good ostracizing material) but Pearl strikes me a lot more as a carnivore and there are only two horned carnivores out there so... Carnotaurus it is haha. And even now I'm making her horns unrealistically big but.... We can suspend some belief
BigB - Oryctodromeus
"Digging Runner"! I've already talked plenty of why BigB is very rabbit behavior to me and my reasons for assigning this burrowing dinosaur to him are similar. Tldr he is fidgety and cautious yet clever and constantly buries himself underground
Lizzie - Anurognathidae
I don't even fucking know man it made me think of Lizzie and then I wasn't able to assign anything else to her. Lizzie often claims to be confused and if any dinosaur looks to be in a perpetual state of confusion then its this one. I know a lot of people like to portray Lizzie as a butterfly also so there you go, wings!!! And it's quite cat-like too for those who like to draw her as a cat
Mumbo - Leinkupal
I really struggled with Mumbo... So many different dinos fit him imo but I figured it should be at least something moderately large (so "Technosaurus" was out of the question lol). Then I rediscovered this dinosaur whose name translates to "vanishing family" and then I thought about LL and SL and how Mumbo went out quickly after the initial death/s and left a very felt absence in someone's alliance and then I became really emotional and forgot what I was doing
Joel - Nodocephalosaurus
Bdubs - Psittacosaurus
"Knob Headed Lizard"
Joel as an Ankylosaur has been stuck in my head from day one of assigning dinosaurs to the Lifers and I'm frustrated that I can't truly explain why. You'd view an Ankylosaur as a slow and docile creature, even compared to other herbivores, but...
1. Maybe not so much nowadays, I don't know what non-dino nerds think, but I feel like ankylosaurs were largely believed to be HUGE back in the day, much like velociraptors, when in reality they're not that big. The Nodocephalosaurus is especially small even among other ankylosaurs. But, well, we all know what Joel loves to say about himself
2. Joel is or likes to make himself look well in control, just as ankylosaurs have little to worry about as far as predators go. Especially in earlier series where he was content basing mostly by himself. It's always when things get dire and he enters his red life that he becomes very impulsive and erratic like an ankylosaur flipped on its back
3. I know there's a distinction between Traffic Joel and Empires Joel and whatever other Joel but... Even in death games his more charitable traits shine through here and there. He really becomes a dangerous rascal for a large majority of the time and he's very good at it, he's not putting on a mask or anything, but I like to remember that underneath that tough spiky armor is gentleness and caring. His care towards Lizzie and Pearl and Etho etc etc
4. The image of Joel as a hell of a spiky creature is just really fun to me. Yet heavy and blunt ones! And someone once proposed the idea of him having a club tail but having chiselled it to be sharp to mirror him being a menace. (Added benefit also that it's lighter that way haha) To me he's always been an obvious heavy hitter rather than stealthy or particularly creative etc. Him as a carnivore just doesn't work as well for me
The name bares no fitting meaning but when I look at Bdubs I think of Psittaco. All other species close to it in looks are already ceratopsians and we have like... 3 of those already lol. Im sorry Bdubs you look so stupid
Cleo - Lythronax
There's so few predators in this roster lol oops, but Cleo deserves to be an apex one! The name translates to "Gore King" because you know, zombies... and you know, Cleo is very king so true. If any of the Lifers should be able to boast rows of razor sharp teeth to gore others it should be ZombieCleo
Scott - Theiophytalia
I've been really struggling with Scott but how about the dinosaur whose name translates to "Belonging to the garden of Gods". There's only one known specimen of this species and it's an Iguanadon looking dinosaur which I think a lot of people would regard as the most basic, possibly boring type of dinosaur (if it weren't for the Allosaurus which already takes the title of "basic straight white guy") but that further fits Scott imo. It's always been a strong point of appeal to me how MUCH there is to his character that so often goes under the radar or unexplored, and how he's very often portrayed as just some handsome looking guy as opposed to a hybrid etc. He's not at all extravagant yet has mastered his craft of bending fate in his favor, he so often has things perfectly under his control just as he wants them, etc... reflective of the name "Theiophytalia" even if you wouldn't think such a dinosaur to sport one of the most prolific names a dinosaur can have. Also garden something something flower husbans. Basically whatever Bree's take on Scott is lol. I don't wanna blab for 5 paragraphs about that blue mf here but. I hope this makes sense
Jimmy - Yinlong
I struggled with this mf the most because he's another very hashtag deep character. I felt really bad to remove his bird motifs completely because the canary is so essential to him, but a raptor nor a pteradon fit my image of him at all. I spent so much time looking into various species but it just aint it, but Yinlong was possibly quilled and we can still cover him in feathers, even if he has nothing close to wings haha... BUT ANYWAY. Yinlong is a small kind of pathetic looking dinosaur, and Jimmy definitely isn't small but he'd sure be made to feel that way. Yinlong translates to "Hidden Dragon" however, a rather thought-provoking name for such a dinosaur. Given his character, it sure does feel like there's a soul of a dragon laying dormant somewhere in him, buried by all the self deprecation and curse labels. Honorable mention to Tianyulong, a very similar dinosaur who was named after a museum, but "Tianyu" also translates to peace and content. Something that Jimmy can't yet but deserves to be
Etho - undefined raptor
Already made a loong post about raptor Etho haha which I assume yall have seen since the support towards that post is the only reason I'm even making this post
Skizz - Olorotitan
"Titanic Swan" close enough to an angel right. I feel the whole angel thing is a bit overdone when Skizz can become a malicious little creature every now and then, but swans much like angels do get viewed as beautiful and taken as symbolism of love. Much like Skizz is largely viewed as an angel and often as someone who can do no wrong. But mostly I wanted Skizz to be a hadrosaur/duck-billed dinosaur, because those are dinosaurs known for their speculated vocalizations. And what is Skizz good at? Talking and voicing his love and appreciation? Yeah? Yeah... I'm so sorry Skizz btw this hybrid idea does not work out
Again, a lot of these don't work so well as hybrids... Some like the long-neck ones I cant imagine to have more than a spiky spine back and a tail, but! These picks aren't based on hybrid potential but rather what I think genuinely fits. I did really work on this all day looking through a bunch of dinosaurs and research haha, but I do love dinosaurs a lot... If you disagree with any hey thats cool! Feel free to give me your opinions if you've any and I hope this was fun to scroll through regardless
#oh boy here we go with the tags#grian#tangotek#impulsesv#rendog#I feel bad tagging these Im not gonna tag them all alright forgive me#zombiecleo#joel smallishbeans#geminitay#ldshadowlady#ok thats more than enough forgive me traffic gods#trafficblr#but also blabber?#rendog is my fave... and Joel but I have ankylosaur bias#ankylosaurus best animal sorry to every other animal#oh and Gem of course haha....... Theris are so cool man#second best animal#tubby art
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minors dni 18+ / ageless will be blocked
content: aftercare, mentions of rough sex, nicknames, teasing (affectionate), alluding to cockwarming
pronouns: none; intended afab!reader
you let out a whine into felix's shoulder, your body settling after your lovely boyfriend sending orgasm after orgasm. your vision is still fuzzy, legs feeling like jelly, and your hands aching from holding onto felix. "you okay, angel?" he said softly, as if he didn't run a whole bullet train on you.
"mhm," you hummed. "felt good, bubba. 'm just tired."
"tired," he chuckles at you, sitting up whilst still inside you. "i did all the work."
"you wanna be the one getting railed for the next hour?" you raised your eyebrow, pinching at his forearms. he holds his hands up in defense, leaning down to press another kiss on your lips.
"i'm gonna pull out now," he states, his hands holding onto your hips as he does so. you whine at the empty feeling but feel the juices out of you leak. "good thing i put a towel down, i knew you'd make a mess."
"shuddup," you hide your face, embarrassed at how well he knows your body. he presses a kiss on your temple before taking the clean parts of the towel to help clean you up. you peek from behind your hands, watching as he makes his way off the bed. "i love you."
"i love you more angel," he says. you put your hands down to watch him move around the room. he digs in your drawers for some fresh panties and a new sleep shirt. he places the clothes on the end of the bed, close enough for you to reach over. your legs are still twitching from felix stretching them to push deeper inside you. "do you need water love?" he says getting dressed.
"please," you hum, getting dressed on the bed. your boyfriend disappears into your living room while you finally settle into your sheets. he reappears with a glass of water and a small plate with his brownies he made earlier in the day. "oh thank you bub."
you snack on the treat as felix pulls out his gaming chair from his desk. your head tilts as you watch him seat himself. now avoiding your eye contact, you glare at him for a moment when it clicks. "are you actually gonna play games after you just fucked the living hell out of me?" you questioned.
"no," he lied through his teeth. you could tell he was itching to play, his hands resting on the chair's arm rest. he finally makes eye contact with you. taking a deep sigh, before hanging his head down. "kinda wanted to do my commissions for genshin before it resets."
"you are one in a million, you know?" you place down the plate of brownies as you make your way off the bed. your legs hit the ground and sorenes is felt throughout. bearing the pain, you walked over to your adoring boyfriend who stared at you with puppy eyes. you make your way onto his lap, legs finding their right place on either side of him. luckily last christmas you had gotten him a bigger more comfier chair to sit in that could fit you both. "if you wanna play your game, i'm getting my cuddles either way."
he chuckled, adjusting your body to sit nicely on his. felix moved to grab a blanket beside the desk, one you kept next to him in case he got cold playing, and placed it over your body. finally tucked in, felix moved to face his desk to launch his game. "i would've cuddled you after angel, you do know that?" he reminds.
"yeah, but i'm impatient and needy so i win either way like this," you hum into his shoulder.
"needy?" he raised an eyebrow. "are you still horny babe?"
"if this is your way of asking me to cockwarm you," you glared.
"hey you said you were needy," he says in defense. "plus it'll keep you warm while i play."
"horny bastard," you huff.
"sooooo yes? or no?" he asks. "i need to know before i start the game, otherwise you have to wait til we're back in bed."
"this is manipulation," you accuse. he looks at you, knowing full well your answer. he taps your thighs with his fingers, indicating that he was being serious about waiting until later. "yes...but only because i want to. not because you asked."
"of course," felix smiles, helping you lift up your hips. "only because you wanted to."
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