Tumgik
#Okay but who else desperately wanted to play this as a kid?
sentientsliotar · 7 months
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Capture the flag capture the flag capture the flag-
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I am being normal about this I swear-
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stsgooo · 5 months
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Look at Him.
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✩࿐ summary: your attempts at reentering the dating scene is foiled by your ex-husband.
warning(s): past relationship, clingy!gojo, ex-husband!gojo, co-parenting situation, crack fic. wc; 1.6k
pairing(s): gojo satoru x fem!reader
a/n: this is purely just a goof fic because i've put nothing but angst out there so far sooo have a laugh. hope yall enjoy :3
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“So, what do you do for a living?”
"A teacher."
"Oh, wow! What grade, subject?"
"Uh, highschoolers and the subject kinda varies on the day."
"Like a substitute teacher?"
"Um....sure, yeah! Substitute teacher."
"That's awesome. Mad respect, kids can be demons."
You were quickly discovering that the dating field had changed in the five years that you had been married. An endless back and forth about what someone did, what's their favorite color, what's their hobbies. Boring questions that you would ask your students on the first day was used in over the table date conversation. Until, until, they got to that question they so desperately wanted to ask.
Would you want to take this back to my—
There was a vibration against your thigh as your date started to go onto a monologue about how much he disliked kids. In all honesty, you couldn't really remember his name. The introductions had been awkward and a little nerve wracking— you were almost sure he had no idea who you were either.
You tugged your phone out of your pocket and resisted the audible sigh that threatened to leave you when you saw the notification.
Satoru please tell me why my beautiful, radiant, amazing, intelligent daughter just said her mommy is on a date. feeling sick to my stomach, don't tell me this is true.
You rolled your eyes. Your ex-husband had always been so overdramatic. His main focus was always on the bit that could come from a situation. However, this was a quality you do used to admire about him. His ability to make any situation seem like it was a funny happenstance that you'd never encounter again.
Now, it was nothing more than a nuisance.
Satoru oh my god, you left me on read. it's true. it's true. i hope you know i just threw up. i threw up everywhere. i might die. at least, tell me he's ugly. please god let him to be ugly.
A sigh, you typed out the quickest message you could without your date asking what's wrong.
You I hope you're not ignoring said daughter to ask me about some date. I'll be home later, please refrain from texting me.
You were about to set your phone down when another text came through. This one appeared to more distraught than the last.
Satoru o h your tone. it's over. it's really over. i might just kill myself this is the worst night of my life. y/n, i'm genuinely feeling sick. please, is he ugly? he must be boring because you're texting back.
You were almost inclined to remind Satoru you both had been divorced for a year already. That this was bound to happen and you two had, in fact, spoken about it months into the divorce. You had played with some 'what if's and there was a mutual agreement that the other wouldn't get jealous and be dramatic about the other getting in a relationship whenever the time comes. It was a surprisingly adult conversation.
You should've known better when Satoru proudly proclaimed he didn't care who you got involved with.
You Satoru, we talked about this. We're adults and we're divorced. Please bother someone else, like Suguru.
Satoru i don't wanna talk to suguru. i wanna talk to youuu (;﹏;) i can't believe you've done this. ten years. ten years of loyalty. im sick to my stomach.
You You asked for the divorce.
"Is everything okay?"
You eyes snapped up from your phone and towards your date. He had the good grace to be wearing a relatively concerned expression, eyeing you wearily.
You quickly tucked your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the insistent vibrations it gave to smile apologetically. "I'm sorry, my daughter had an accident and I had to, you know, send a quick text to her babysitter." It was easier to explain away a daughter than it was a clingy ex-husband who was well in his dissent into insanity. Really, you were doing this guy a favor keeping him in the dark.
However, his face still paled and he straightened. "You have a kidI'm so, so sorry. I just went on a two minute rant about how much kids are equivalent to demons." He seemed to spiral as he pressed his hands against his face, uttering curses to himself. "I get so nervous with these dates. I truly meant nothing by it."
You smiled in amusement, "It's no problem, really. I'm not exactly disagreeing." He peeked from between his fingers and blinked at you dumbly. "Just because I'm a parent doesn't mean I don't agree. I mean, my kid can be a bit much sometimes. I love her, but she's a lot like her dad in that way."
It always made your chest blossom. The way Saori was a carbon copy of Satoru. From the rambunctious personality, to the piercing blue eyes, and white hair. Your genes hadn't won in the battle, but you were almost grateful. Satoru tried to tell you that she had your smile and your wit, but you weren't entirely convinced. She was Satoru and Satoru was her.
You were extremely lucky that he was a good dad.
"Oh? Do you mind me asking if her dad's still around?" His tone was indication enough: a daughter and an ex of some kind was pushing it for him.
You tensed up, feeling deep regret already. "Uh, yeah." His eyes shifted away and you reached forward, taking his hand. "But, he's not, like, crazy or anything! He's just a good dad."
Your date chuckled nervously. "I-I just don't want to get involved in some, um, some family dynamic."
You thought it was a little presumptuous of him to think this would go that far, or he'd get in the way. But you were too focused on defusing the situation.
"Oh, no, it's not like that! We've got a healthy balance, y'know? He does his piece, I do mine— that's it!"
He scrunched his face. "So... an open relationship?"
"No!" You press your hands against your face with a huff. "No, we're not together anymore. We just co-parent."
He opened his mouth to further question you when your phone vibrated very audibly. His eyebrows raising. "Your daughter?"
You sighed. "Please give me one moment."
With jerky movements, you pull your phone from your pocket. The assortment of messages that came where spread over the ten minutes you decided to ignore him.
Satoru okay, you've got me there. but my big heart is breaking. i hope he's ugly and he smells. okay, i spoke with suguru and he said i'm an idiot who should apologize. in my defense, i'm a little itty bitty drunk. and no, saori is not awake. papa put her to bed before bringing out the whiskey. im so sorry my beautiful deity. that not ugly, not smelly man is so lucky to be in your presence and i hope you have a good date. also i hope he gets hit my a car. (^▽^)
You I'm going to kill you with my bare hands. Genuinely, count your days, Gojo Satoru.
Satoru hot, hot, hot!!! (●´□`)♡ did he actually get hit by a car?
You Is there something you want?
Satoru him dead. and you home :((((
You You don't want me home. I swear to god, if you're on my couch, drinking when I get home, I will ruin your life.
Satoru promise??? ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡ but, actually, i wanted to ask your opinion on something
You For real?
Satoru for realsies. [Image Attachment]
Completely blinded by your irritation, you don't even hesitate to open the picture as it loads. Although you regret it the moment it does.
It's a picture of Satoru. He's at what seems to be the beach (must've been the fun activity him and Saori were going to join Suguru for), his sunglasses were on the top of his head, and he was grinning at the picture. One hand was resting against his pectoral and the veins in his hand was prominent. An obvious attempt at being charming and flirtatious. It was working too.
If it weren't for the fact that you knew him and were his ex, you might've just swooned.
"Oh, my god, is that him?" Your date was staring at your phone with wide eyes. His face even more pale than before. He started to shake his head as he stood, snatching his jacket from the back of his chair. "No way. I am not getting involved! I'm sorry, you're a nice woman, but I know when I'm not winning. And I'm definitely not winning against that."
Your eyes widened considerably, "What? No! Please don't leave. He's an idiot, I swear there's nothing—"
"He is... a hunk. I am not. In no shape or form am I at all comparable to that. Look—" He reached forward, grabbing your phone and holding the picture up to be beside his face. "Look at the difference! Model who has won Japan's hottest man at least eight times before he's 30 to me— Look at him!"
"It's not even like that!" You snatched your phone back and stared at him in frustration. "He's my ex, I do not want him!"
He waved his hands in front of your face. "I know how this will go. You think you like me and then your super hot and super sexy ex-whatever makes you realize the familiarity is good. Then I get dumped." He straightened, latching his hands onto the lapels of his jacket. "I just realized I am a side character. In my own life. Goddammit."
He barely glanced at you as he paid for the dinner, then left as quickly as he could. Still, you didn't even know his name.
Satoru oooo taking you awhile to respondddd still in love with me? (人◕ω◕)
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senblades · 25 days
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I've had a realisation,
So, we all like to dunk on Akechi for having a stupid plan- which, well, yeah; but I think that a lot of people (whether they like Akechi's character or not) tend to miss the point:
That being, that the holes we all poke in his plan; "Why didn't he just kill Shido at the start?" "There's no way he'd live/be free after that," "His plan to ruin Shido's reputation would never work," are actually far more revealing as to Akechi's priorities, than they are of him just being 'stupid'.
For starters, "there's no way he'd live/be free after that." -as a fandom I think we've all already come to the conclusion that Akechi's regard for his own life is spotty at best. I wouldn't necessarily say that he wants to die by the time of the third semester, which really just adds to the tragedy of the whole situation, but I digress. Point is, the kid needs therapy, moving on.
"His plan to ruin Shido's reputation would never work," Ah, now this is where I think some cultural differences start to come in to play- I won't say much, since I'm relatively uninformed, but by the sounds of it, revealing that Shido has an illegitemate child is actually the kind of thing that would make a lot of people raise their eyebrows. And, more importantly, the kind of thing that would really throw his "easy election win" into some serious jeapordy. (AND, it's never exactly stated that "revealing himself as an illegitemate child" was Akechi's tactic to ruin Shido- more of a "hey, Shido, guess who it was that ruined you, you piece of shit?"- which, well, more on that mindset later)
Next, "Why didn't he just kill Shido from the start?" This is where I think a lot of people get tripped up. To my memory, there is not a single point in the engine room where Akechi says that killing Shido is the cornerstone of his plan (localisation differences notwithstanding. I'm sure someone will come yell at me (/lh) if this is the case). Now, to be fair, Akechi in the engine room is really just him giving a very desperate powerpoint while he sharpens his sword- so I don't doubt that he's skimming over a couple points. But, you'd think that Akechi would remember to mention that if that really was his main goal.
Okay, so Akechi doesn't want to kill Shido. Cool, follow-up question, "Why didn't he just give Shido a pshychotic breakdown from the start?" That's the kind of thing that would have ruined Shido's reputation, too, right? And, it would have been before he would have had the means to try and cover it up. Well, finally, I can get to my point:
Akechi needs Shido's disgrace to be loud, because he needs everyone else to care, too. Akechi's revenge isnt just against the man who left him and his mother for dead, but also against the society that continued to leave him for dead, again and again; the society that only lauded him as something special if he slapped some pretty wallpaper over the past he had absolutely no control over.
Looking at it like this does a lot of things:
First, it really amps up the whole "the PT's justice and Akechi's justice foil each other". Akechi's revenge is also a vehichle for revolution, since it is, in essence: "Look! Look at the man who you lauded as a saviour! Look at me, the man who brought him down. Aren't we both disgusting, in your eyes? Take a look at yourselves. Aren't we all the same?"
That leads pretty nicely into Akechi as a pawn for Yaldabaoth, too. Akechi wants to make sure he and Shido go out with a bang, and leave a shitshow in their wake. That's prime God of Control real estate! It's also prime "metaphor for Ruin" real estate; you get the point.
And, finally, an interesting point comes from all of this. That being, that, well- the only reason that Akechi's plan wasn't going to work, is that he placed too much stock in the idea that Shido has any concept of loyalty or gratitude. Shido, as we all know, is an absolute piece of shit- and still, Akechi had believed that maybe, just maybe, his father would feel bad for being terrible to his son.
(I'm not going to go on too big of a tangent, but that is an interesting insight into Akechi's idea of Justice, and into what his personas might represent. Contradiction, as ever, is the name of the game, and Akechi simultaneously believes that there's no way to get anywhere in life without force and violence, and that there is also a fundemantal truth of what is good and fair within human hearts)
The message of this, I'm pretty sure, is not: "Akechi failed because of that lingering belief in humanity" (wouldn't that be one hell of a heel-turn lmao), but rather: "Akechi, with his distorted (ha) priorities, was never going to be happy in any quest for vengeance, even if his plan succeeded entirely"
tl;dr, Akechi needs therapy. Wait- Maruki, no! Not that kind of therapy!
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emphistic · 6 days
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Can't Relate to Desperation
A/N: requested by anon — i apologize for how long this took; this was fun to write
— just a heads-up: this is preschool!Sukuna
“—I was wondering if you could help me with a little favor.”
“Sure, shoot.” Your friend was surprised to see Sukuna — out of all people — approach them, but they didn't show it.
“Y/N’s birthday is pretty soon, and I don’t have any ideas on what to get her.” Sukuna had known you for a long while. But that didn’t mean he knew what you wanted for a birthday present. I mean, he obviously knows your likes and dislikes. Your hobbies and pastimes. Your favorite colors, foods, drinks, movies, even. But none of those gave him an idea for a meaningful birthday present.
“Ohh, yeah. I'm getting her a matching pajama set! Because we’re going to have a sleepover after her party.”
Sukuna mentally raised a brow at that, he thought you guys were already planning on having a sleepover. And he most definitely did not remember inviting anyone else to the sleepover.
“I didn't ask.” Sukuna wanted to get this questionnaire over with already, and go back to playing with you on the swings or something like that.
“Hey! That’s not nice. I’ll tell the teacher.”
“Can you help me or not?”
“No, because you’re a meanie. And meanies don’t deserve my help.” Your friend crossed her arms and turned away from Sukuna, emitting a little ‘hmph’ sound.
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can you just help me?” He couldn't believe he just apologized to someone other than you.
“Fine,” your friend huffed out, turning back around.
All the while, you watched this exchange happen from afar. Earlier, you were back in the classroom, digging through your backpack to find the necklace you had purchased with your early birthday money from your parents. You had planned to give it to Sukuna, but it currently looked like he had acquired another friend.
And, what made it even more disappointing was the fact you spent at least ten minutes looking for him. You waited outside the restrooms, searched the playground, dug through the sandpit — in case he got buried, and even checked the cubbies. Then you took a lap outside, and found him talking to another girl, who happened to be your [second] best friend — (Sukuna being the first).
The smile plastered across your face immediately dropped, and so did the necklace in your hands.
It’s not like Sukuna wasn’t allowed to have other friends, it’s the fact that he doesn't — by choice, obviously — except for you. And it's been that way, ever since you complimented his hair, saying, “I love the pink! It is my favorite color,” which was contrary to many of your other classmates. Most kids actually made fun of him for it, albeit Sukuna would always glare in their direction and the laughter and teasing would stop in an instant.
You couldn't believe your eyes. He usually ignored people who tried to talk to him and pushed aside those who wanted to make friends. So why was he suddenly talking to your friend? Was he trying to replace you? Did he get bored of you? Why were they talking in such a secluded area behind the garbage cans? Was he trying to hide all of this from you?
You wiped your soon watering eyes with your sleeve, grabbed the necklace off the ground, and quickly ran in the opposite direction.
Coincidentally, as soon as Sukuna got all the information he needed from your friend, he saw your figure turning around. Why were you here? He thought.
“Thanks.” Sukuna ran away from your friend, and as soon as he caught up to you, he said, “Hey, where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” You didn't turn around to face him, continuing to run away.
Sukuna came to a halt, staring at your back. What's your problem? Sukuna decided it was probably nothing, and that you just wanted some alone time, so he left you to your alone time and resorted to playing in the sandpit by himself. But it didn't feel the same as when you played with him. The sand was too warm, the sandcastle was off-center with the hills made of sand, the birds’ singing was too loud. Nothing was right.
You had to admit, avoiding Sukuna was like avoiding the sun. You could hide out under roofs and loiter inside the restrooms, but you had to get out eventually. And eventually you did; recess had ended and you had to get back to the classroom to continue your lessons. And who did you sit next to? Take a wild guess.
When you sat down in your seat, you scooted your chair as far as possible away from the boy beside you — who stayed still, utterly confused at your actions, and wondering why the hell you were being this way.
Then, your class was assigned a group project. Sukuna turned to you, expecting the two of you to pair up, but to his surprise, you asked another classmate to pair up instead.
Okay, he thought. Maybe you just want to get social with other people; that's fine. That's normal.
What wasn’t normal was the fact that you continued to blatantly ignore the pink-haired boy even at lunchtime.
Sukuna asked you his usual question, “Do you want to share my juicebox?” And, thank Heavens, you finally looked him in the eye. But then you flatly said, “No,” before turning around and starting to eat your own lunch.
Sukuna frowned. “What’s your deal today? Are you allergic to apple juice now or something?”
“No.” Going back to what you did earlier, you didn't face him this time, choosing to eat your sandwich in peace.
Usually, you gave him the crust of your sandwiches to eat, because you didn’t like how they tasted, and he did, but you decided against that today. Which was a shame, Sukuna was looking forward to eating your sandwich’s crust.
“Geez, okay. Be that way, I guess.” Sukuna stabbed the straw into his juicebox and drank. But like the sandpit, it just wasn't the same.
This continued all day. And I mean all day.
Sukuna was starting to get real upset. This frustrated him deeply. He swore that if you kept on avoiding him and running away every single time he tried to approach you, he was going to end up with white hairs at the age of four.
Did you not want to be his friend anymore? Did you finally grow to dislike his pink hair that you once loved so much? He hoped the answers to those questions were a definite ‘no’.
He hoped the answer to those questions was a definite ‘no’.
Finally defeated and having given up on his searching for you all over school, he walked to the playground, hoping that swinging would clear his head. And God, he was so thankful he did just that. Because upon entering the play area, he found you, already sitting on the swings and swinging sadly, by yourself. You were swinging sadly on the swings, yes, indeed you were.
It was quite an amusing sight, to anyone who didn’t know the context. But Sukuna did, to an extent, at least. He knew you were upset, and that the likely cause was him. It was always him. Always. Good or bad, happy or sad, he was always the cause, for you. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?
Your head was low, focused on staring at the ground beneath you as you swung back and forth. Sukuna thought you looked cute like that — your braids dangling in front of your face, as you basked in the sun’s rays.
But then Sukuna remembered the task at hand, and made sure to approach you with caution and much needed confidence [in himself].
When he got closer to you — only a few feet apart — he quickly realized why your head was so low when you raised it to look at him, tears in your doe, yet angelically pure eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Y/N. What’s . . . wrong? What’s upsetting you? . . .Is it me?” He whispered the last part, to the point it was barely audible; but you heard him. You always did.
“Why don’t you go and talk to your other new friend, huh?” You spat out, stifling a hiccup as it came.
“Wait—what?” Sukuna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Don’t play dumb. I know what you did. I know what you’re doing. You can replace me with whoever you want, I don’t care, not anymore. Now go away so I can play all by my lonesome.
“Y/N, I’m not replacing you. I know you’re a dummy sometimes but. . . Where’d you even get such a ridiculous idea?”
“Oh, so I’m the dummy?” you retaliated.
Then it hit him, you were referring to earlier this morning, when he was talking to your friend for advice on what to get you as a birthday present.
“I—you’ve got it all wrong, Y/N. All wrong. I wasn’t, I’m not, and I would never ever replace you. So get that stupid idea out of your head already. I was just asking her for help to . . . get you . . . something — for your . . . birthday, that’s coming up soon.” He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but if it would make you feel any better, he couldn’t care less about keeping a silly little secret.
“Oh, Sukunaaa! You could’ve just asked me!” You jumped off the swings, swiftly wiping your teary eyes dry, and tackled Sukuna into a hug. The two of you fell into a giggling mess of tangled limbs on the ground.
And to your surprise, the following week, Sukuna gifted you a necklace at your birthday party. It was a cheap, dainty necklace, that much was obvious. But opening the heart charm revealed a poorly taken, bad quality, photo of you and Sukuna both. You two were smiling like idiots, embraced in a hug, and you recognized the picture to date back to when you visited Sukuna at one of his basketball games. The first game of his that you went to, actually.
The cherry on top was the fact that the necklace he got you was the same necklace you were planning on giving him before you saw him talking to your friend last week.
But, ah, it was whatever. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Part 5 — y’all have had it too good for too long. Time to suffer again.
Content warning for angst, nightmares, and non-descriptive panic attack
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You’re bleeding.
Can’t tell who shot you, only that it’s hard to breathe. Your chest is a bloody, mangled mess, your entire front painted crimson. A puddle expanding around your boots.
Your head feels leaden as you drag it up, searching for help, searching for —
There they are. The 141. SpecGru. All of them, standing just out of reach. They could help, they could save you. But they’re not, they’re just standing, watching. Could be statues if not for the sneer that twists Soap and Nova’s face when you make desperate eye contact.
Your captain takes a single step forward, crouching as you fall to your knees.
“You’re just not a good fit, anymore,” he explains, shrugging. “Nothing personal, kid.”
“Baby. Baby!”
Keegan’s face is above you, jaw dusted with dark stubble. He’s wide awake, eyes huge and worried, showing you both his hands. His mask is gone, hair tussled.
Bed. You’re in bed. You fell asleep with him tonight.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers.
“K-Keegan…” The shivers start almost instantly, like you really were bled out. Before he can ask, you reach for him. Let him bundle you against his chest, arms tight around you, and legs bent up on either side of you. A cage of safety around you, keeping you safe and close.
“I’m here, sweets. Right here,” he murmurs into your hair. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.”
You sniffle, press your face against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. Too fast; because he’s worried about you.
“Which one?” he asks.
You shudder. “A new one.”
“Fuck,” he whispers. Drops a kiss on your head. “Just me, or do you need someone else?”
You squeeze your eyes shut as the tears start flowing, guilt gnawing at your tight stomach.
“C-can I see the captain?” You ask. “I-I’m sorry, Kee. I just…”
He shushes you. “That’s why I asked, baby. It’s okay. Nothing to feel bad for.”
He doesn’t even give you the option of walking. Just tucks you into one of his sweatshirts — sandalwood and vetiver — and scoops you up. You tuck your face against his neck against the hall lights as he walks with you.
“Dreams again,” he says to someone — Nikto, probably.
Three sharp knocks. A single beat. Then a door opens. You peek out, relieved to see your captain standing there.
“Hi babygirl,” he rumbles, “bad night?”
Keegan hands you over with practiced ease, your captain letting you loops your arms and legs around him. His skin feels almost burning, warm enough to drive out the lingering chill. He smells good too. Like sleep and home.
“Y-you still… you still want me right?” You whisper, eyes stinging.
“Always,” he answers instantly. “My girl, my soldier, mine. Just like Keegan and Nikto and Nova.”
You cling tighter, but he just hums and smooths his hands over your back.
“Keegan, get Nova and an extra mattress,” he orders.
“On it.”
The captain carries you in, a shadow from the corner of your eye telling you Nikto is still there. You’re set on the bed in a spot still warm; it dips as another body settles with you. Nikto again. Mask on as always, but dressed down for sleep. He’s even got his gloves off and lets you play gently with his fingers while your captain turns on a light and fetches you a glass of water.
“Still with you,” Nikto murmurs.
You sniffle and wipe hurriedly at your eyes, trying to preserve what little dignity you’ve got left.
“None of that now, baby,” your captain soothes, tilting a glass to your mouth. “Cry if you need. Get it out.”
The tears some slow and quiet, only little sobs escaping as Nikto’s arms curl around you. Keegan appears at the door soon after, Nova helping him drag a mattress into the captain’s quarters. She comes to your other side while Keegan and the captain start arranging the other bed.
Soon, they switch you over, drag the first mattress onto the floor as well. After that, arrangements are familiar and automatic. The captain takes one side, fits your back against his chest. Keegan takes your other side, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. Nikto nestles up behind him - needs the access of the end of the bed. And Nova distributes herself on top of you and Keegan, a gentle warm weight soothing you.
“Sleep if you can, babygirl,” your captain murmurs in your ear. His thumb sweeps gentle arcs over your hipbone. “We’ll be right here when you wake up.”
The nightmares were the worst when you first joined SpecGru. The first six months. You’d wake up in a cold sweat, apologies to an empty room on your tongue.
Nikto would find you out on the obstacle course at all hours of the night, in all kinds of weather. Running and jumping and climbing without so much as penlight. Pushing and pushing until you were panting on bloody hands and knees, driven by the single-minded need to be better, to be worth it.
When he found out, your captain put a ban on you from running the course unless he himself was present the entire time. You were pissed at first — even went so far as to bitch him out one day, exhausted and strung out on stress.
And he’d let you. Just sat behind his desk listening. Unimpressed, but not pissed, either. When you’d finally run out of steam, he’d stood.
“Still mad?”
When you nodded, he nodded towards the door.
“C’mon, we’ll go for a spar,” he explained when you gave him a distrustful look. “And then you’re going down for a nap.”
You frowned, shifted. “What about…?”
He snorts. “All that a minute ago?”
When you nodded, he shrugged. “Nothing, unless you feel like you need a bit of discipline to keep it together.”
You’d wrinkled your nose. “Definitely feel like socking you now.”
He’d smirked. “Good.”
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maralarsen · 21 days
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Does he love me? >⁠.⁠<🎀
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~Theodore Nott x reader~
WARNING: cursing
Fluff/Little angst
° | friends to lovers| °
° |Summary: Theo starts to be too nice and the reader wants to solve it
° | I'm starting to feel that my stories are boring even though I've only written 3 of them and one of them is supposed to have a sequel
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Who ever thought that the important books would be the highest," I jumped to grab the book on the elixir, but of course like the two attempts before and now I missed. "Sh*t!" I sinned, "pretty girls shouldn't swear."
I turned at the sound of a rather familiar voice. "Theo stop kidding and help me," why am I jumping for a book when he just reaches out and has it right away.
"Try to ask," he said with a smirk.
"I can see how much you enjoy watching me struggle with my height, Mr. Supreme!" but he just smiled and sat down on the nearest chair. He probably won't really help me if I don't ask.
Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not one of "his girls" who will ask him for something. I've known Theo long enough to not be naive that he likes me even though I had him. It's too much to say that I she could admit that at all.
But I'm not going to ask him for one stupid book.
CHAIR.
God, why didn't I think of that sooner. I walked over to the chair that was next to him, on which he was sitting, and moved it to the bookshelf.
"Why don't you just use a wand?" he asked me. "Because I probably forgot it?!" I reached for the book and took it in my hand, "ha, finally!" I raised my hands in the air as a sign of victory and I jumped from my chair to push her to her place.
"What are you planning for the evening?" I turned to face him, "I definitely don't intend to sleep under the image of God." I answered his question truthfully.
I wasn't the type to go to a party and then go to sleep and wake up in someone else's bed in the morning.
"Too bad, I thought you would come today," I raised an eyebrow at him, "and why?" he smiled at me and got up from his chair and slowly walked towards me.
He brushed a stray strand of my (c/h) hair out of my face and tucked it into place, behind my ear. "I don't even know myself, I had a feeling that you would say yes this time," I looked at him in disbelief, I was shocked by his actions.
There was always a friendly atmosphere between us and none of us ever crossed it. Why he suddenly behaves like that is strange to me.
"But as you can see I said no," I pulled away from him and left the library with the book in my hands.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week later:
Interactions with Theo became more and more frequent.
Touching hands more often while walking. Hugging more often when saying goodbye. More frequent peeking during class. And more often compliments.
It didn't bother me because one side of me screamed after every touch of his, but the other warned me against this and shouted to be careful.
But as it usually happens with a teenage girl in love, the first page won me over. I longed for his touch, for his caress, for every compliment. He was literally making me a desperate pile of misery. Well, I didn't show anything on the outside. At least I tried, I don't know if it really worked.
I wanted to talk to him about this. Because all he gave me was a sweep. I didn't know what to expect from him. Is he serious or just kidding?
This is how I ended up in Pansy's room. "Pansy please give me some advice," I begged her with desperation in my voice. "I think you should go see him…ouch!" she tried to give me advice while doing her makeup for today's Slytherin party.
Unfortunately, this combination ended with a pencil sticking into her eye. "Are you okay?" "Ow. Hey, I just pricked myself, shit." she put the pencil down and sat on the bed next to me. "Listen, go after him," "but what if he..." I started playing with the laces on my sweatshirt.
"No problem! F*ck you woman, you're only young once, so f*ck him if you love him. And also everything points to the fact that he loves you too!" I looked at her.
"But what if I don't love him, what if it's just an infatuation that we'll regret later?!" I threw up my hands. That's what I was most afraid of, that it was just an infatuation, nothing more than a little romance. And I will hurt him and our friendship.
“Listen, (y/n/n)! If you didn't love him and it was just a romance, just an infatuation, you wouldn't be despairing over it now. You wouldn't care. And something tells me he feels the same way. At this time she's always on the astronomical tower smoking." I smiled at her and hugged her.
"Why did I deserve you Pans, thank you!" she grabbed my hands and said: "You'll thank me later now run," definitely I didn't hesitate any longer and ran to the door.
I literally ran through the corridors to get to the astronomical tower as soon as possible and catch him there. When I finally got there, I stopped in front of the stairs. What if he rejects me...NO! Enough of the doubt it's now or never!
I confidently walked up the stairs. I saw him leaning against a pillar smoking. My self-confidence left me the moment he noticed me and put out his cigarette. "What are you doing here?" he asked me. "Theo, we need to talk!" he raised his eyebrows "Did I do something?" Yes you did! I walked closer to him "Damn you realize what you're doing to me. The unexpected affection. Why Theodore, why now. If you just want me in bed then do it right now stop. Because you won't get me there even though I love you so much that I'm afraid to admit it to myself. God, you can't even imagine how much I was bothered by all those girls clinging to you and..." it was so fast that I didn't even have time to react .
One moment he was leaning against a pillar the next his lips were on mine. It was a kiss worth a million unheard words. A kiss that confirmed mutual affection.
He pulled away first with his right hand on my waist and his left on my face. When did he manage to put them there? "F*ck! You don't even realize how long I wanted to kiss you. Feel your lips on mine. I love you. And I'm finally not afraid to admit it. I've loved you since the day I saw you for the first time, even though as an 11-year-old I didn't even realize it and didn't know what love was. Hence all the affection. That's why now. Because when I saw you in that library. That's when I realized that I don't want anyone but you. Only you and your personality." when he spoke, I couldn't believe his words. I had never seen so many emotions in his eyes in my life.
"Theo I don't know what to say," I dreamily looked into his stormy blue eyes.
"Don't say anything just love me. Love me like your life depends on it because I already do," he loves me.
Theodore Nott loves me! Me!
Now I wanted only one thing: "Kiss me." Please!" I begged him. "Are you seriously begging? You (y/n) (y/l)?" "Yes please. And now please do it!" He smirked and his lips met mine, but now with more softness than if they were made of glass and he has to take care of them and protect them so they don't break.
I kissed him back and my hands tangled in his hair and they pulled him closer. He pushed me against the wall in return. I finally felt complete as if I had always belonged in his arms.
I pulled away from his hungry mouth "I love you! Theodore Nott," "I love you too (y /n) (y/l). More than you can imagine," I smiled at him and pressed my forehead to his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
• English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for the mistakes
• If you have any requests for a story, write to me ☺️
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todoroki-sweetheart · 11 months
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HQ Boys Trying to Put a Baby in You
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+genre. nsfw
+warnings. well obviously baby-making, creampies, talks of getting pregnant, bodily fluids, smut
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Atsumu is committed.
Day and night he complies with your wish, having you any and everywhere he seems content with.
Whether that means fucking you on your bed, legs wrapped around him while he pounds into you, or if it means having you someplace else; like an empty locker room after a game, Atsumu is up for it all.
Personally though, you have to admit that the moments after a game are your favorite. It’s when everything is so raw and alive and the crowd has barely stopped screaming Atsumu’s name before he’s dragging you off to an empty locker room.
It’s there that Atsumu fucks you, bending you over and holding you against the lockers. You can barely think straight as he pours every emotion he has into you, letting you feel his excitement, his anger, or even his eagerness to fulfill your wishes.
On and off the court he’s so determined, and it shows when you’re pregnant less than a month after you start trying.
Non-stop fucking will do that to you though, but much to Atsumu’s pleasure the fun doesn’t have to stop there. After all, he’s already knocked you up, which means he has nine more months of you all to himself. And believe me, he’s going to savor every second of it.
-
Sakusa thought it was funny at first. Then, he’s eager.
In a way, he thought you were kidding when you told him you wanted him to put a baby in you. Like okay — he could do that, sure.
Kyoomi has always given you what you wanted, but it seems this time he underestimated how much you really wanted this. And quickly, he begins to realize that you’re not messing around.
You’re on him every chance you get, jumping his bones after practice, before practice, or any other time Sakusa doesn’t find himself busy.
You’re on him and more often that not you’re riding him, taking control of your desires which shocks the hell out of Kyoomi.
He’s used to being the one in control. He’s used to being the relentless one, but he most certainly can’t say he doesn’t like it whenever you straddle him, sinking yourself down on his cock and pleasuring the both of you until you’re nothing but blubbering messes.
Sakusa can’t say he has any complaints at all.
And in fact, he’ll start practicing less, leaving games a little earlier than usual, all just to rush home to you and have you in any ways he can.
As long as it takes, he’ll be there. With open arms, and an eager cock.
-
Kuroo can’t think of anything else. He’s literally fucked dumb.
No matter where he is, the thought of last night’s endeavors are always playing in his mind; every moan, every touch captivating his attention and it’s bad.
It’s gotten to the point where the only thing Kuroo can form a coherent thought about is your pussy. He thinks about how good you always feel wrapped around him when he’s in meetings.
He thinks about the way you squeeze him whenever you’re so close to cumming, and the way you seem to milk him for everything thing he’s worth, every time.
Kuroo’s not sure how long he can keep up with your request, simply because he’s getting overwhelmed. He craves nothing but you, wants to come home to nothing except you with your legs spread open.
And more often that not, that’s exactly what he comes home too. And as much as Kuroo knows it’s gonna overtake him, as much as he knows that your pussy is gonna suck him down a rabbit hole of desire; he still can’t resist sinking his cock into you every time, always wondering if this will be the day you officially ruin him.
-
Bokuto is insatiable.
He’s desperate to fulfill your every need, wanting to do it all for you and this is no different.
Bokuto’s only mission is to give you what you want, and if his baby wants her pussy filled every night then who is he to deny it?
In fact, he’s right there with you and before you can even blink, buried inside you to the hilt.
The feeling of his heavy balls slapping against you is one that you will always welcome, knowing that it’s your job, your duty to milk him for everything’s he’s worth. After all, that’s what you wanted, right? You wanted him to fill you up until there was no possible way you weren’t pregnant.
You wanted him to fuck you like your life depended on it, and so you told him that. And so he delivered.
Every chance he gets, Bokuto makes a mess of you on his cock, cumming into your womb again and again.
It got to the point where he was overstimulating himself, but he didn’t care. He had a one track mind when it came to you and besides, Koutaro could never resist making you happy. And if his cock could do that, then you better believe he’s going to be buried in your cunt any chance he got.
Fucking you over and over until he was sure his princess got everything she wanted.
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words-4u · 7 months
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don’t shut me out
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pairing: jordan li x f!reader
wc: 750
a/n: i combined the two requests bc they felt kinda similar but i hope you guys enjoy <3
(NOTE: your super power is the ability to transform into any animal you want)
you stared at the last message you sent jordan.
to j 💗 i miss u. text me when u see this pls
you had sent that text at 8 pm last night and it was almost noon the next day and you still hadn't heard back from them. sighing deeply, you locked your phone, stuffing it in to your backpack.
is it me? did i do something? you thought.
it might seem over the top reacting this way but jordan is so communicative especially at night so it was off brand for them to go ghost like this. you were going through the different possibilities in your head as walked the god u campus to get to your next class, you had almost missed your friend calling your name.
“hey, y/n!” 
you looked up and saw cate beckoning you over to a table she’s at with andre.
“hey guys,” you said with no excitement which the blonde found weird.
“did your cat die or something? what’s up?” she asked patting the seat in between her and andre.
you huffed and set your bag on the table and your head on andre’s shoulder.
“okay this is gonna sound so stupid but i’ve been texting jordan all night and all morning today and i haven’t heard so much as a peep from them. i know the messages are going through, i just don't know why they're ignoring me”
“oh y/n. you haven’t heard,” andre begins. ”jordan’s parents are in town. we don’t know much about them but we know they are jordan’s least favourite topic.”
“i mean they’ve told me the basics but…” you trail off.
if their parents are in town then that explain why they’ve been so hard to reach. jordan's parents have never understood them and always made them feel ashamed of their powers which is ridiculous because they are ones who’ve injected their kid with compound V.
"guys i’ve got to go,” you said grabbing your bags and transforming into an eagle, flying off to jordan's student accommodation.
you knock rapidly on your partner’s door, once you arrived. “jordan, open up!”
silence.
you grabbed your vphone out of your bag and checked the “find my” app. “i can literally see that you’re in there so either you open this door and let me in or i turn into a snake and slither in… your choice.”
you hear some metal clanging and something unlocked and in a second you were faced with your gorgeous significant other who looked like they have been crying their eyes out.
no words needed to be said between you before you dropped your bag and pulled them into your arms, rocking them side to side.
you let a few moments pass before you spoke. “why didn't you just tell me?”
“i’m sorry,” they said pulling away. “i fall into this pit of self hatred when my parents come around.”
you guided them to the bed and played with their fingers as you shared your thoughts. “you know i thought you were ignoring cause i might've done something to piss you off or something…”
“no, baby” they whispered. “it’s not you. like at all. it’s them. they… they’ve never accepted my full powers. the girl version anyway. to my parents, i’m their golden boy and nothing else. i came to god u and swore that i would never feel ashamed of myself and would never be forced to choose one gender like my parents desperately want.”
“that’s a lot to carry by yourself, jord,” you move their short black bob out of their face and tuck it behind their ear. “i’m here if you ever need to talk. about any of it.”
“i know,” they smiled softly.
“and for what it’s worth i like…all of you,” you confessed which made jordan put on their sexy grin that you fell for.
“is that right? and which parts of me do you like?” they asked switching to their male form and placing you on their lap.
“hmm now that i think about it, i actually can’t remember,” you stroked your chin jokingly.
“how about i make you remember?” they replied, capturing your lips in an over due kiss. you breathe them in as you run your hands through their short hair.
you pulled away still holding their face in your hands. “promise to tell me when things bother you, big or small okay? i don’t want you to shut me out.”
jordan nodded, whispering, “i promise,” before kissing you once more.
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steddiealltheway · 2 years
Text
It’s basically canon that Steve gets migraines from the number of times he’s gotten concussions/beat up. Adding on to this…
Everyone has their way of helping Steve.
Robin lays next to him on the floor, holding his hand which he squeezes whenever the pain is too overwhelming.
Dustin - as he puts it - shuts the fuck up for once in his life.
El has found that the tiniest amount of radio static helps clear his head while not causing nausea.
Nancy makes him some sort of fancy chamomile tea.
Eddie… well, he hasn’t been around for one of Steve’s infamous migraines. In fact, he’s only heard about them from the others who say Steve tries to play it off as just a headache - often times leaving to suffer on his own.
Luckily, Steve doesn’t hang out alone with Eddie, so he’s determined his migraine solution would be to leave him with someone else and get out of his way. There’s no way Steve would want him around for that. And there would be nothing he could do to help.
Eddie briefly thinks back to those thoughts when, for the first time, he and Steve hang out alone. Granted, the other kids were there before, but they had all left once it got to be curfew time.
Steve had been acting… strange. More irritable than usual, going as far as snapping at Dustin when he started screaming about something. And really, that should’ve been the first sign for Eddie.
But he had just moved past that, fired up some random movie and let Steve sprawl out next to him on his couch, hands over his eyes, taking deep breaths in and out.
“Steve…?” Eddie questions gently.
He gets a quiet groan in response as Steve slowly drags his hands down his face. His eyes are slightly glossy, and he looks absolutely miserable.
“Steve,” Eddie says more firmly this time.
“I’m gonna head back,” Steve says with a wince. As soon as he stands up, he sways. Eddie steadies him and forces him to sit back down.
He desperately tries to remember what everyone else told him works, but he can’t recall anything.
“What should I do?” Eddie asks.
“No Lights. No Noise. Please,” Steve bites out gripping his head.
Eddie nods and immediately turns the television off. He scrambles to get all the lights off but there’s still a glow from the window which doesn’t have any curtains on it. Eddie looks around for a blanket or anything nearby to shield Steve’s eyes from the lights.
He’s struck with a sudden idea. Eddie sits next to Steve, leans his head forward, and presses it against Steve’s. His hair forms a curtain around them, blocking out the light.
“What are you doing?” Steve asks, breath ghosting over Eddie’s lips.
Oh. Yeah, this is all kinds of invading Steve’s personal space. Shit. “Using my hair as a curtain,” Eddie replies nonchalantly.
Steve does something strange. He smiles. “It oddly helps. Thank you.”
Eddie wishes he had access to his hair so he could use it to cover his smile in response.
It’s nice - sitting so close to Steve, listening and feeling his breathing. But after a few minutes, Eddie’s back starts to cramp up from the awkward twisted position.
Steve must feel the same way because he’s suddenly laying back and pulling Eddie towards him. Eddie scrambles to keep his forehead against Steve’s and ends up laying on top of him.
Shit shit shit. There’s no way Steve is okay with this.
But then Eddie feels Steve’s fingertips tracing circles on his back, as if Steve’s the one soothing Eddie. Maybe he is.
Eddie’s hand comes up to Steve’s arm, trailing his fingers up and down in thanks.
After a while, Steve’s hand stills on Eddie’s back and his breath evens out. When Eddie’s sure that Steve’s asleep, he lifts his head up and shifts it to nestle into Steve’s neck.
A few hours later, Eddie is woken up by the squeak of the front door opening and someone awkwardly clearing their throat. Eddie finds himself to still be mostly on top of Steve who has his arms tightly wrapped around him, still asleep.
Eddie’s heart skips a beat, happy to see him so at peace after last night’s events.
“So… who’s this?” Uncle Wayne says, voice low as to not wake him.
“Steve. I was helping him with his migraine.”
Wayne’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” He teases.
Eddie flushes red unsure if he wants to remove himself from Steve and wake him up in the process, remembering how Nancy had said the migraine episodes could be triggered by a lack of sleep.
“Go back to sleep, Ed. Just… make sure to introduce him to me when he wakes up.”
“It’s not like that…” Eddie argues.
Wayne gives him a look, eyes flickering to where Steve’s arms are wrapped tightly around him, and shakes his head in disbelief. “I give it until morning,” he says with a smile on his face as he goes to his room.
“You’re wrong!” Eddie yells loud enough that he’s scared he’s woken Steve up. He looks back at Steve who softly snores, somehow still asleep. Eddie cuddles back against his side and closes his eyes, praying that his uncle is right.
He’s woken up later either by the hand running through his hair or the dull, quick sound of thudding against his ear. Eddie cracks an eye open, realizing it’s Steve’s hand in his hair and his heart that’s forming the fast rhythm.
“Hey,” Steve says with a small smile.
“Good morning,” Eddie replies immediately closing his eyes and tucking his head back into Steve’s neck to block out the sunlight.
Steve laughs. “Is that how I looked last night behind your hair?”
“Much better actually,” Eddie flirts without thinking.
Steve swallows. “Thank you for that by the way. I’ve never actually been able to sleep after…” he trails off.
His friends were right when they said Steve didn’t talk about it. Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm.
“Anytime,” Eddie says, slightly muffled, but just as sincere.
“Maybe sometime soon?” Steve suggests.
Eddie looks up. “Without you being in excruciating pain?”
Steve nods looking slightly anxious as to what Eddie’s response to the confirmation will be.
Eddie smiles wide and has to hide his face in Steve’s neck again to muffle his excited giggles. Steve joins in on the laughter.
Eddie suddenly feels Steve’s body tense up and his laughter stops.
“Glad to see you awake, would’ve been awkward meeting you while you weren’t conscious,” Wayne says.
Eddie sits up with a groan, swinging his legs over Steve’s and leaning back against the couch. Steve shoots up, trying to look presentable while his legs are trapped straight out in front of him.
“Wayne, this is Steve. Steve, this is my uncle, Wayne.”
Steve holds out his hand and firmly shakes his uncle’s hand. Eddie tries not to laugh at the interaction.
Wayne invites Steve to stay for breakfast, and he does.
After Steve leaves, giving Eddie a quick spontaneous hug, Wayne asks Eddie, “What do I always say?”
Eddie sighs, “The ‘W’ in Wayne doesn’t stand for ‘wrong.’” And thank goodness for that.
“I like him,” Wayne states casually.
“I do, too,” Eddie says with a soft smile.
“Next time, offer him an ice pack, too. That always used to help my migraines.”
Eddie’s smiles grows. Even Uncle Wayne has a migraine solution for Steve.
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phoen1xr0se · 7 months
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Nothing Lasts Forever - META
It's just really struck me how utterly bizarre the line "nothing lasts forever" is, considering that it comes out of THIS GUY'S mouth:
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Don't get me wrong, this line has never sat right with me, it felt oddly placed and off - almost everything else he says and does in that scene could potentially be keeping in character with who he is, his arc, his trauma... but not this.
Why?
I mean, we're talking about Aziraphale here!
The one who literally collects ancient first editions and preserves them...
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The one who wears old, worn clothes because they're comfortable and he likes them...
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The one who almost killed a little kid because he wanted the Earth to carry on just a little bit longer...
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The one who has desperately fought to keep his demon alive and away from the threat of Hell by any means necessary.
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These are not the actions of someone who believes nothing lasts. He has spent his existence protecting the things he wants to last, often going to extraordinary measures, even going against his own moral code, consistently showing that he does, in fact, want it all to last forever.
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So why say it?
The only explanation that makes sense to me is Aziraphale is trying to wave a warning flag in front of Crowley's face. Hes saying: "You know me, I know you do, you know me better than anyone and you know I would never say this."
The old "if you ever hear me say these words, you know I'm in mortal peril" bit.
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The only problem with this, of course, is that Crowley has just confessed - all the things Aziraphale never ever thought he would hear him say, at least not yet, and not so openly... and it's the wrong timing, the worst timing ever, because Crowley is too wrapped up in his own emotion that he can't see what Aziraphale is too scared to say overtly (lots of sideways glances to Metatron just outside the window).
Aziraphale is waving great big "I am not okay help me!!" signs at him, saying all the things he would never say - "you're the bad guys" and "you can be my second in command" and "just like the old times"... and the big one, "I forgive you" instead of the "I love you" they both know it should have been.
The worst part is that Aziraphale expects Crowley to pick up on his signals, and is so hurt and frustrated when he doesn't... not just because it means he is putting his life at risk but because maybe Crowley doesn't know him after all. Maybe they aren't what he thought they were.
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But can I leave this on a happy(ish) note?
With this in mind, I'd like to bring you back to the final scene with 'A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square' - most people believe that either Crowley queued it up to take Aziraphale to the Ritz, or the Bentley did it...
But if all the above is true, and Aziraphale has been desperately trying to get Crowley to see his coded messages, I humbly submit the theory that it was actually Aziraphale who set up the song to play.
One last attempt to show Crowley what he couldn't risk saying out loud.
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Let's hope he got the message.
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heartfullofleeches · 6 months
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Creep Yan meets the sweet angel that is Clown Darling-
It was an accident. They swear it to their grave.
A left instead of a right somewhere down the twisting, spacious corridors of the convention center. They could've sworn they followed the receptionist's directions down to the letter, but playing back her voice in their head they're starting to believe she just made up whatever she could to get them to leave. What should have led them to the hall holding the annual concert for their favorite idol group had in actuality brought them to a another venue with an entirely different type of star.
The clown's smiling face was plastered on every wall. Children and young adults of all ages walked in hand with their guardians wearing the same face paint or best imitation of the entertainers outfit they could readily obtain. There were others closer to their age, but none as out of their element as them. Collectors exchanging priceless goods: bonding over favorite moments from what sounds to be a show. Is this what they're like with people who share the same interests? When they're apart of the crowd it feels normal, but how could a kid's show have such an effect on grown adults? They feel like such an outcast - and they know others know they are too. They can hear the words behind every stare throw at them.
"What are they doing in here...."
"Creeps like that are exactly what it's difficult to bring kids to public events."
"Freak."
They stumble through the booths, searching desperately for the exit they lost sight of shortly before realizing where they were. Tears obscure their vision as they collapse next to a row of chairs left out for guests. The concert had to have started by now and at this raise they'll never make it before the doors close. They finally had the chance to see their favorite group in person and now it was gone. Why did they ever think the universe would give them a opportunity for better after an eternity of hell. At this rate it would be better to just go home....
Hic....hic...
Soft cries bellow from the body sitting next to them. They wipe at their eyes with a striped handkerchief, careful not to smudge their face paint. From their mismatch shoes to their brightly colored clothes it was easy to pin them as another cosplayer, but there was something more... authentic about their wear. They cry silently into their hands without spilling a tear.
"Are....are you okay?"
The clown looks up at them, sighing heavily. "Oh, I'm alright. I'm just sad because you're sad. I've seen so many happy faces today and you're the first I've seen upset. It's enough to bring a tear to anyone's eye."
They tighten grip the strap of their bag. "I... can go somewhere else..."
"No, no!" The clown bounces to their feet and takes their hands - startling them. "I'm not saying that because I want you to go away. I'm saying that because I want to make you feel better, silly! Why don't we start with you telling me what's wrong?"
"It's nothing.... You don't want to hear about stuff like that it's depressing."
"Hm... can I at least try to make you happier?"
"You can try..."
"Great! Repeat after me."
The clown clears their throat as they kneel.
"When I'm feeling lonely, or think I just might frown. I think think a thought that means a lot and then I feel less down.
The clown's smile reaches the painted circles on their cheeks. "Its the song I teach all my new friends. Now you try!"
"When I'm feeling lonely...."
"Or think I just might frown."
"I think a thought that means a lot."
"And then I feel less down." The clown squeals as they clap they hands together. "Yay! You did it! And very well if I may add. How do you feel now?"
They pause for a moment, lips moist as they think about their mother's chocolate cake. There's still a slice left in their fridge. "A little better...."
"Now, tell me a thought that makes you feel better."
"Well... I really like listening to music...." Their smile is gone as soon as it came. "I actually came to see a concert today, but I got lost...."
"Concert? You mean like those sweet girls next door? Haha, you can hear them right through the walls? I guess it is difficult with all the screaming kids. Come on, I'll take you!"
They place their ear against the wall. Sure enough, music and the roars of the crowd blare through the structure. They cup their hands around their ears to hear better and decipher if their favorite song has already played - yanked from their seat before they can properly make out a single note.
"Come on, Come on!"
The clown giggles, clutching their hand as they skip and excuse their way through the crowd - promising younger guests their full attention upon their return with a quick hug and a free sticker. It's all the time the person they drag with them has to recuperate before being pulled along again.
"Wait... please... I can't...."
"We're here!"
Catching their breath, they look up to see the still open doors of the concert hall as people pour in and out. The bouncers stop a few of them to inform them of the doors' closing in five minutes. They made it... They actually made it... Tears of happiness catch in their lashes, sweeped away by a striped cloth.
"Are you still sad? I know you missed the opening act, there's still more..."
"No... These are happy tears... Thank you.. Thank you!"
The clown's laughter reaches the deepest depths their heart. "Anything for a friend! Come see me again if you're ever in any trouble..... Oh! I almost forgot something!"
The clown reaches into their pocket and pulls out a small, plastic badge. They pass it over to their new friend who inspects the smiling rainbow and letters engraved into it.
"Y/n the clown's helper of the day."
"That's a little token I give to the best of my little helpers..." The clown lends in, covering their mouth with one hand as they whisper. "Don't tell the kids - I give one to everybody."
They reach into their bag, grabbing their wallet. The clown quickly stops them.
"It's free, Silly! If you wanna pay me back, just have a good time, okay?"
The clown winks before walking off back to their hall - but not before passing out stickers to the bouncers who thank them for it and the water bottles they brought earlier. The dumbfounded individual they leave behind looks down at their hand - then the open doors of the concert hall. They sheepishly reenter the venue they came from, approaching the first merch with physical discs they see.
"Hello, I'd like to buy a copy of all available seasons you have."
562 notes · View notes
cherryredstars · 7 months
Note
Hi! I really really love how you write for Simon. Like honestly it is so good. I saw that you're taking regular requests right now, so if it's okay could I request some jealous/insecurity headcanons or a oneshot (any format really) for Simon? Like maybe him and the reader are still working toward being more secure but there's still those moments where there needs to be some reassurance and a bit of comfort.
I just loved your cocky!Simon headcanons and I would love to see the progression of him getting to that point if you know what I mean lol.
Also congrats on 1k!! You deserve it!! I love your blog.
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Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader
Warnings: Fluff, Insecurities, Mentions of Simon’s Trauma, Angst (???) with Comfort
Summary: He just needs a little reassurance sometimes.
A/N: I need to write for Simon more, I miss him!!
Word Count: 1.6K (Edited)
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Simon’s been jealous before. Envious being a better word. 
He used to be jealous of all the kids who had a loving home to go to. Jealous of peers with perfect parents and perfect siblings. Jealous of all the things he felt like he should have but couldn’t get. But this is a new kind of jealousy, a new insecurity. One so ugly and consuming that he feels particularly shameful of it. 
He knows relationships, especially for him, are all about time. Everything is about time. Hell, he spent fucking months trying to come to terms with the fact that he liked you. Spent even more time building up the courage to ask you out on a date and begin a relationship with him. Add on to that the long hiatuses caused by deployment? This whole relationship is a slowly spinning clock. 
But he’s here, a newly taken man with the kindest thing on his arm. He should be grateful, and he is grateful! Truely, undoubtedly grateful for the opportunity you have given him. But, he can’t help wanting more. From himself mostly, but also from you. And it frustrates him, frustrates him to no end because he knows he’s the reason why the both of you can’t have more. You have told him countless times, drilling it into his head like a daily affirmation that you’re okay with that. That would wait however long it took for Simon to get the hang of this. To fully comprehend what it means to be yours and how to navigate through it. And he is so blessed to have someone so understanding waiting up on him. 
But he sees the difference. Sees the way how natural, how fucking easy it is for you to talk and interact with everyone else. Can see how easy it is for everyone else to interact with you. Things he can’t comfortably do yet. It makes a dark well of hatred form in his stomach because he can't understand why it has to be so hard for him. Why he got the shitty deal of cards, why he got the short end of the stick. He knows, realistically, that it's his fault. So what if his shitty family life and not so glory-filled military career played a part in it? It's still Simon’s own actions at the end of the day. 
It’s fucking torture to watch the casual touches everyone lays on you. How easy it is for your friends to playfully shove your shoulder when you tell a joke, how they don’t hesitate to wrap you in a tight hug when you greet them, how they casually rest their chin or head on your shoulder and complain about everything that went wrong today. Fucking hates how confident people are as they try to flirt with you, how they could so easy articulate their attraction towards you in mere minutes when Simon can’t even do it in months. It makes him want to throw himself against a wall until his screwed up head fixes himself.
And you just look so happy. Smiling at your friends and returning the physical touches with ease. Face beaming with joy as you wrap someone in a hug or link their arm with yours. How you just fucking glow at the compliments given to you by your friends or a passing stranger in the street. He wishes so desperately that he could give you that, that he can casually walk into a room and tell you how fucking stunning you look instead of keeping it in his head. Wishes he could casually grab your hand without feeling like his skin was just dipped into a tub of acid. The only thing that keeps him together is your instant dismissal of anyone that tries to flirt with you, a proud look on your face as you say I have a boyfriend.
But he knows that it doesn’t look like it. Not when there is an obvious space between the two of you as you walk together. Not when he doesn’t make a single move to wrap his arm around you in a crowded space so you don’t get separated. He definitely screams boyfriend when he just watches someone come up to you and try to get into your pants instead of marking his claim on you. Safe to say, he doesn’t expect to find a Best Boyfriend Ever mug under the tree during the holidays this year. 
He knows it pains you too. Can see it every time you instinctively go to grab him only to stop midway through and you give him a bashful smile. Sees how painfully obvious it is when he comes back from deployment and you and him stand outside the terminal gate awkwardly because you don’t know how to greet him if it isn’t with a tight hug. It’s painted all over your face when the both of you are at a group hangout with friends and you watch with an envious gleam in your eyes how the couples are squished into each other’s sides or sitting in their laps. A sharp pain runs through his chest when he can’t even drape his arm over your shoulders to comfort you. He knows that the small smile you give him when you turn towards him is because you know he won’t, even if he really wants to. 
He hates that he can’t give you the simplest of things. Things that are supposed to be so natural in a relationship. Things that were promised to you when he asked you to be his partner. Things that make you so happy. He hates the idea that he’s robbed you of something. That something being a happy and normal relationship. That feeling builds and builds until he’s an insecure mess on your couch as you guys have a movie night.
You’re on opposite sides of the couch, something that makes him want to choke himself out. He’s spread out, arms thrown over the top of the sofa and legs spread. You’re pushed into the arm of the sofa, making sure none of your limbs touch him accidentally. He almost wants to throw up when the actors on screen run into each other’s arms and a small ‘aww’ leaves your lips with a dizzying smile. His hands clench and unclench as the movie ends. You sit up stretching and about to leave for a bathroom break before putting on the next movie when Simon speaks up. 
“I’m sorry.”
Your head snaps to him quickly, a confused furrow forming in between your brows. You’re about to open your mouth to question him when he continues, “I’m trying, but…it’s hard.”
It’s not much of a clarification, but you still understand what he’s talking about. A sympathetic smile comes across your face as you approach him. This time, you sit next to him but still not touching him. A tenseness leaves Simon’s body, preferring you close by even if he can’t touch you. You’re fully turned to him, a look of admiration on your face as you study him. The look ignites his soul and that little well of hate dries up the tiniest bit. 
“I know you have, and I’m so, so proud of you, Si.” The small tilt of your head and soft smile makes him want to nuzzle his face into your neck and shower you in his own praise. He knows he’s practically glowing from your words, and he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed. 
“Still… I know how happy it would make you. Just… please.” He doesn't know when the lump formed in his throat, but he tries to subtly get rid of it. 
The way you melt into the couch also makes him melt into the fabric. The two of you study each other for a moment, taking in each other’s presence. Slowly you get up and Simon moves to get up too, a moment of panic running through his veins before it dies away when you grab his empty mug from the coffee table. You give him another soft smile as you hold the cup tightly in your grasp.
“Of course, Simon. Thank you for trying. Thank you for wanting to try for me. That is what makes me happy” 
You leave Simon there, excusing yourself to make him more tea and going to the bathroom. He sits and stares at the TV, a new feeling emerging in his chest. It pushes away the insecurity and that hatred and the jealousy. It expands until his own body is buzzy and a puff of air leaves him. Everything feels lighter, brighter now. This feeling is new. One so beautiful and consuming that he feels particularly at peace with it. Love, he thinks. He thinks it might just be love.
So when you come back to sit at his side, mindlessly blowing at the surface of his cup of tea before giving it to him, he lets the tips of his fingers purposely brush over yours. He holds your gaze, making sure you know it wasn’t an accident. A beaming smile forms on your face and he feels a smaller one form on the rim of his mug. He turns away then, sipping on his tea as you look for the next movie to put on. 
He doesn’t touch you again that night. But it still made all the difference. That one, singular touch was worth everything. 
The next night, he comes back to your apartment and stares down at the new mug that greeted him when he opened the cabinet. His finger rubs against the printed words with a lovesick smile. 
Best Boyfriend Ever.
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I ♡ Simon Riley mug when???
781 notes · View notes
jakescaravel · 4 months
Text
Spill It
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader
Word count: 4,128
Warnings: MDNI!! 18+, Oral (f) receiving, rough sex, impact play, anal play, dirty talking, mentions of alcohol, overstimulation, dom Jake, teasing, I think that’s everything, this is pretty dirty so it won’t be for everyone…
After a few drinks you and Jake sit criss crossed on the bed. It’s a saturday night and you guys had agreed to have a chill weekend so here you are, just the two of you hanging out. The night had started out just talking about normal things, but add a little alcohol to the equation… of course things had turned south.
Jake's hand mindlessly fidgets on your skin, tapping away at some unknown rhythm. He looks up and asks, a sly smile playing at his lips, “What’s your favorite sex position?”
“Hmm.” You think back to the countless times the two of you had found yourself tangled up in bed together, trying to recall which time could possibly be your favorite.
“I like doggy but I think missionary feels the best. And I like the idea of cowgirl but it’s so much work and never feels as good as you hope. What about you?”
“Well.” He says, his tone indicating he’s had his answer from the start. “I like missionary because then I get to watch you cum.” You nod your head in agreement, watching him is always a special treat. “I like watching you fall apart, it’s fun.” He pokes your thigh, teasing you.
“That’s a good answer. I like watching you too. By the end you’re all sweaty and out of breath, it’s hot.”
He chuckles. “Okay okay I’ve got a question, what’s your favorite thing I do in bed?”
You smile to yourself knowing exactly what your answer is.
“I like when you talk to me. No one has ever done that before, at least not the way you do. Some have tried but it’s never worked for me before.”
“Yeahh.” He stretches his hands above his head faking a yawn. “I’m kind of a sex god what can I say?”
“Oh so you’re a sex god now?” You roll your eyes. “What’s your favorite thing I do in bed?”
He thinks for a moment, closing his eyes and furrowing his brow, willing to extract a memory of some kind. When he finds it, his face softens and he smirks, opening his eyes to look at you.
“Oh I know… when you’re about to cum, like when you’re right there and you start to fuck yourself back onto me, to go even harder. It’s fucking hot… so desperate.” He whispers the last word, sending a chill down your spine.
“Oh yeah I know what you mean.” You chuckle, trying to regain your composure. “Sometimes I don’t even realize I'm doing it, it just happens.”
“Well never stop.” He winks shooting his fake finger guns at you.
Jake thinks of another question for a moment, taking a sip from his drink.
“Am I the best you’ve ever had?” He smirks and you roll your eyes. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear you say it. Arrogant fuck.
“Yes Jake. You’re the best I've ever had. Don’t be so smug.” He laughs and you can’t help but smile.
“Am I the best you’ve ever had?” You ask with hesitation, knowing that his answer might hurt you but he quips back almost instantaneously.
“Yes, of course you are.”
“Really? Why?”
“Are you kidding!? Well first of all, I've never met anyone who I've cared about as much as you. It means more with you than anyone else. Plus I don’t know if you’ve noticed… but you’re pretty hot y/n.” He leans close whispering in your ear. “And you fuck dirty. I like that.”
He smirks, watching the evidence of his words take effect just as he intended. Your thighs clench together in search of any type of friction as your heart thumps wildly in your chest. Jake scoots closer to you and rests his chin on his hands until his face is inches from yours. When he speaks you can feel his warm breath tickling your skin.
“What’s something you’ve always wanted to try?”
Feeling brave, you lean forward and confidently speak back. “I’ve thought about you tying me up before.”
His eyes drop to your lips and his bottom lip parts ever so slightly. “Fuck.” He breathes.
“I can't say I haven't thought about that too. How good you would look on display for me. I could make you cum over and over again and you wouldn’t even be able to move… yeah I wouldn’t mind that. Can I make a confession now?”
“Please do.”
“I’ve thought about fucking you in public before. Taking you to the bathroom of some restaurant and just doing you right there. Then we both walk out like nothing ever happened. Just our little secret.”
His hand grazes the inside of your thigh and your breath catches, feeling the ache between your legs grow significantly.
“I’ve thought about that too. Or in the backseat of a parking lot.”
“Yeah...” His voice trails off, eyes still glued to your lips.
“There's another thing actually…” You whisper instantly regretting your words, the alcohol in your system betraying you.
“Hmm?”
You stare at him, unable to say the words.
He notices your hesitation and sits up a little cocking his head. “What is it?”
You blush and look down, the heat of his stare making butterflies flutter around in your stomach.
“Ooo it’s bad isn't it?” He smirks, sitting fully upright now determined to coax this out of you. “You can tell me, I won’t judge you.”
You shake your head, eyes still glued to your lap. He takes your chin in his hands, raising your head until your eyes meet. He dips down, planting a quick kiss to your lips. Your blush deepens and you let out a giggle.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ve thought about it too, it can’t be that bad.” He reasons with you.
You could tell him. You know that he would never judge you. In fact, you could probably tell him you have a kink for bald people and he would go get the razor right then and there. It’s just hard to say the words, but of course he knows that.
“Do you not wanna say it?”
You nod slowly.
“Do you want me to name a bunch of things and you tell me which one it is?” He giggles.
“Yeah.”
“Oh… well I was sort of kidding, but if that’s what it takes!”
He thinks for a moment.
“Ummmm you want me to spit in your mouth?” He grins showing off his perfect teeth, stealing your heart for the millionth time.
You laugh. “I mean hell yeah, but… no it’s not that.”
“You want me to dress up as a dog and bark for you?”
“Jake! Ew stop!” You’re both full on laughing now, your heads hitting each other when you both double over, causing you to laugh even harder. When you finally calm down he takes your head in his hands. “What is it goddamn it!” He chants, shaking you back and forth eliciting another laugh from you.
He let’s go of you and just stares for a moment, thinking hard about your shameful secret. “You want me to fuck you in the ass?”
Your cheeks glow red and you draw your lip between your teeth, nodding slowly almost hoping he doesn’t notice. He smirks, chuckling to himself as he draws his face closer to yours.
“Well well well… that’s what it is huh? Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little whore, wants my cock in her ass. Is that right?”
Fuck the way he says it so casually. The way he’s willing to comply with whatever your deepest heart desires. And the way he wants it too, you can tell…
“That’s dirty, that's bad. But I like bad.” He sits up on his knees, crawling towards you like a predator stalking its prey. You can’t help but feel small as his face hovers over you, looking down with a devilish smile as he gets closer and closer. You lean back, his presence feeling almost too good, like you should just disappear and not have to deal with the burning lust and desire he’s created within you.
“Any last things love? Before I make you feel reeeal good?” The way he draws out the word with his sinfully raspy voice… it makes your cunt ache. His voice alone and the words he’s speaking are enough to make you feel halfway there and you wish he would just take you right now.
“Maybe one more thing.” You whisper, looking up at him with innocent eyes as his hand comes up to your knee, pushing it to the side to expose your soaked panties.
“What is it baby? I can see I’ve gotten you all worked up, don’t make me play the guessing game again, just tell me so we can get started.”
“Well… you could be… rougher with me, if you wanted. Take control a little more.” You meet his eyes, a shy smile creeping up on your lips. His eyes darken and he stills for a moment, the gears in his head turning.
In a split second, before you can even think about what’s happening, his hands are finding your shoulders, pushing you to fall back onto the bed. He moves his hands to your wrists, pinning them on either side of your head as he hovers over you.
“Like this?” He asks, smirking as his necklace dangles over your face, grazing the tip of your nose.
You stare at him, trying to answer before blubbering out a stuttering mess and shutting up. You clench your thighs together desperate for some type of friction to relieve you of the growing ach that’s building but Jake pushes your legs apart with his knee before pushing into you. You groan at the feeling, letting your head fall back as his knee grinds into your soaked core.
“Yeah.. like that.” You whisper, your voice coming out weaker than before.
“You like that baby? You like when I'm in control like this?” You slowly nod your head, unable to look away from his mesmerizing eyes.
“Can you move at all?” You try to move your arms but his strength pushes them deep into the mattress. You give a slow shake of your head.
“Do you like that?” You can't help but smile as you nod yes. He smirks and brings his lips to yours, kissing you slow and deep. You close your eyes as he moves to your neck, sucking at the skin and nipping below your ear. Your breathing picks up as he travels so your chest before breaking away to whisper in your ear.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes please.” You whimper and he kisses your neck once more.
“Do you want it rough?”
“Yes.”
“How rough?”
“Rough.”
He smirks. “How rough?”
“Jake.” You warn.
“Okay. Red if you want me to stop and yellow if you want me to slow down, okay?”
“Yes, just fucking do it.”
“Okay you asked for it.”
He releases your wrists and pulls you up to a sitting position so he can pull your tank top off, revealing your chest. His hands wrap your back, pulling you to him as he attaches his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking it and letting go with a little ‘pop’.
You arch your back into his kiss, begging for his lips back on you with a drawn out moan. “You’re my little fuck toy right?” You nod in agreement, reaching for his clothed cock as he swats your hand away.
“Then I’m gonna play with you a little first. Turn around. Now.”
He drops you from his grasp and you turn quickly. “Get on your hands and knees.”
You take in a shaky breath, planting your hands into the soft mattress. You part your legs exposing you to him. His hands find the sides of your panties, pulling them down with impatient aggression. Jake wastes no time in crashing his lips against your skin, sucking little purple spots into you, marking his territory. The power of his kiss pushes your hands deeper into the mattress forcing you to brace yourself.
He kisses a trail leading up to your soaked entrance, the anticipation of feeling his mouth on you making your head spin. Finally it comes. The wet hot lap of his tongue, his strong hands holding your legs in place, his gravely hums sending vibrations through your body. You groan loudly burying your head into the pillows, squeezing your hands into the sheets.
“Fuck me, you look so pretty right now, legs spread for me, pink cunt dripping.” And with that he catches you off guard, landing a swift smack to your ass. The sweet sting of the impact mixed with another lap of his silk tongue feels like smelling a perfect rose and feeling the prick of its thorns. So good but laced with something so bad.
“You shouldn’t like that. It’s so dirty, but you do.” He hits you again, the twinge of pain turning to wicked pleasure as your muffled voice cries out into the pillows.
He licks over your clit for the splitest second before robbing you of what you so need by moving his lips to your other thigh. He leaves so skin untouched, licking and sucking at a prompt speed, his movements growing desperate, showing you his true need for you.
His own desperate moans fill the room now, his willpower faltering with his growing need to fuck you into the matress, to hit you deep with every thrust, over and over again until you can’t take it anymore and lose control, and submit to him. But that’s later, he has other plans for you now.
Jake takes in a deep breath before burying his face in your cunt. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking it in with no mercy. With every draw of his tongue, he rocks his face into you pushing your whole body forward rocking you like a boat. You fall into a rhythm, rocking your hips back to meet his heated kiss, thinking back to when he mentioned that exact move.
His calloused fingertips tap up your leg tickling you until they meet your entrance, plunging in hitting you deep and hard. A choked out fuck leaves your lips as your body shakes, betraying your attempt at keeping your composure. It’s no use with the way he works you, he way he knows your body better than you do, the way he could probably make your pussy cum from just telling her to.
He pulls back and adds another digit, stretching your already aching walls. He picks up a pattern, sucking on your clit and then fucking his fingers into you, curling up with every thrust. Suck, thrust, curl.
In mere seconds he’s got you on the edge, slowing his movements just for the sake of keeping you there, making you wait for what you want. He could stop all together if he wanted to, and he has before, but maybe he doesn’t want to wait to long to fuck you…
Finally he takes mercy on you with a perfect touch of his tongue, the spit from his mouth coating you as his fingers jolt forward hitting your g spot with precision. At this point, you lose control, pulling your body away from him from the overwhelming pleasure. But he just drags his face along with you, licking you through your orgasm until you're shaking and cursing and spewing words you aren’t even aware you’re saying.
It becomes too much when his mouth feels like a searing white hot rod to your swollen clit. Finally, he pauses his movements, coming up for a choked breath of air as you cry out, letting yourself fall forward into the bed completely collapsed and out of breath. He gives you a second before pulling your hips back up so you’re back on all fours waiting for what he chooses to do with you.
You can hear him panting behind you when he chuckles. “You’re dripping down your leg sweetheart. Can you feel that?” He touches you where your slick runs, halfway down your thigh. You can feel the wetness on his fingers as they press into the spot.
“Don’t worry, I’ll clean that up for you.” Before you can think about what he could mean, you feel his tongue, running a wet stripe up the length of your thigh, cleaning up the mess he’s made. He moves slowly, wishing to savor your taste and make you feel every second of the contact. You shudder when his mouth reaches your entrance, his tongue dipping in and circling around.
You arch your back, forcing yourself to stay still instead of cowering away again. And right when the feeling becomes too much, he does something you don’t expect. The hard firm end of his rough fingertip, nudging into your ass, wet and slick from your pussy.
You can’t help the fucked out moan that ripples through your body at the unexpected contact. It feels different. Like you shouldn’t like it, but you do. You want so badly for him to rip his finger out and put his cock there instead, no matter how much it would hurt.
“Jakee.” You cry out, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses in a little further, stretching you with a slight sting.
“I know baby. Just take it, just fucking take it. Good girl.” He praises, pushing his finger in halfway, curling up ever so slightly.
His tongue comes again, licking over your clit while his finger works away at you, touching you where no one ever has, making you feel things you didn’t know were possible to feel.
“Moree.” You whine, unable to care anymore about your pitiful pleas.
“Does it feel good?” He muses, his smirk evident in his tone.
“Yes… fuck, it feels so good…”
“Yeah?” He asks, pushing in even further eliciting a hiss and whine from your begging mouth.
“You’re so tight princess. So pretty in all your places, even if it doesn’t make sense. You’re perfect.” He kisses the swell of your ass with care, his lips so soft on the sore skin.
“Fuck me… please.” You beg, desperate to feel him stretching you out properly.
“Yeah? My girl wants me to fuck her? What was it you were saying? Hmmm…” He pretends to remember your words. “Oh right I remember… you wanted it rough is that right love? You still want that?”
“Yes… fuck, pleasepleaseplease.” You whine, arching your back when his finger twists inside you.
“It seems like you want my cock in your ass princess, is that right?”
“Yeahh.” You sign imagining how good it would feel for him to press the silky head of his perfect cock against you. How good it would feel for him to stretch you out a different way.
“Maybe another time love, first I have to fulfill your request. My girl wants a rough fucking.” He smacks your ass again. “And I give my girl what she wants.”
You sense him shift on the bed, moving to kneel in front of your crouched frame. You hear the click of a belt buckle and his strained noise of aggravation when he struggles to take off his pants with his finger still in your ass.
You assume he’s removed them when he moves forward grinding his hard cock against you. The soft head of his cock nudges you, moving down to gather your slick before coming back up to rub against your clit.
Just as you think to yourself just fucking do it already he crashes into you with one hard thrust hitting you all the way back, robbing the air from your lungs. You fall forward on the bed from the sheer force of his body against yours, buried as far in as he can go. His own groan flutters out of him along with your shriek of pleasure. His finger falls out of your ass as when you fall and he instead braces his hands by either side of your head to pin you down as he drives into you.
“Ohhh… FUCK.” He shouts, moaning a curse as his hips snap into you. With every jut of his hips his cock hits you deep down in that perfect spot. His body hovers over you, holding you down so you have no choice but to lay there and take it.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuc-kk.” He sounds lost, like he can’t even believe how good you feel, but you’re too gone to even speak, letting the delicious, stretched out, deep vibrating feeling of his cock take you over. Every time he snaps into you, driving deeper with every thrust, you sink deeper into the mattress.
By some miracle you manage to choke out the single word. “Harder…”
“Jesus fuck…” He pants, completely out of breath. “You want it harder?” He pulls out and you mourn the loss of him, whimpering and pouting even though he can’t see your face. He pulls your hips up to be back on all fours and he repositions himself. His strong hands wrap around your hips holding you in place, still not letting you move. He pulls his hips back and shoots his cock into you, hitting an even deeper angle.
The sounds you're making can’t be helped at this point as you scream out his name. With every pound of his cock into your suspended hips, he pulls you back to meet him. You do your best to fuck back onto him but his own power dominates yours so you let him control your body, pulling you exactly how he wants.
The head of his cock nudges your cervix and the sounds emitting from the gliding wet motions are sinful. The wet sounds fill the room and you can feel yourself dripping down your leg once more. It's hard to feel anything besides his hard length shooting into you. In this moment you feel grateful for existing as a hole for him to abuse however he should want.
His hand snakes up your body to grab your hair fastening it into a makeshift ponytail. He grabs hold of it pulling your head back as he fucks you.
“I wish you could see yourself right now… so fucking sexy.”
His other hand leaves your hip to land a harsh smack to your ass then a squeeze. He slows his movements, pulling out to snap back in hitting you hard and deep. He stills his body buried deep in you nudging slightly to hit you even deeper.
“Fuck fuck fuck do that again…” You groan.
He complies, driving his cock to the back of your walls nudging in as far as it’ll go.
You’re close. The way he’s fucking you won’t let you hold on much longer.
“Come on baby, give it up.” He grunts out showing you how close he is too. His finger comes back to slowly push into your ass.
“Fuck fuckkkk.”
He deepens his voice, grunting out a single demand. “Cum.”
Before you can control it, you’re cumming, hard. The world around you dissipates and all you can do is feel. Feel every inch of him, everywhere. Like a buzzing warm force taking over your body. You can hardly hear your own voice as it screams out, your hands twisting into the sheets as you shake and writh. It feels like if pleasure could be inflicted by the click of a button, he would be standing on it with all his weight.
You can feel him shooting into you, the slight sensation rippling through your body like a second wave, causing you to start all over again. You can hear his voice in the distance, moaning and panting your name over and over again.
Finally like the calm after a storm, you sink into the mattress as he stills behind you. It feels like even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to sit up, or move in any way.
It’s a while before either of you speaks, but Jake breaks the silence.
“We’ll fuck me. That was the best sex we’ve ever had.”
“Yeah.” Is all you can manage to say. There’s no question, it definitely was.
His finger squirms still inside you causing you to tighten around it, still feeling tingly and jumpy. You whine at the sensation as he pushes it in again.
“Jakeee.”
“What it feels that good?” He teases.
He pulls his finger out making you feel slightly emptier than before. Then he pulls his cock out of you making you feel significantly more empty.
“So did I do it right?” He asks.
��What?”
“Did I fuck you just right? Did I give my girl what she wanted?”
.
.
.
.
Spill it 2
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darkcircles4lyfe · 2 months
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To Build Something Else
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Whenever I read a fanfiction that takes place in the future where the hero kids continue their schooling as normal and emerge as pro heroes into the existing system, I always kinda view it as like, “AU where things weren’t as bad” or “AU where everyone is still pretending that this is the way things should be” or “AU where good and evil are morally uncomplicated.” I’m not trying to call anybody out—I’ll still read and enjoy these sometimes—but that’s how I’ve always looked at it. I’m starting to notice other people feeling it too. I’ve read fics where they point out how redundant and unfair it is to go back to being students after saving the world (remember how many pros straight up quit and left a bunch of kids to keep fighting?). I’ve seen people acknowledge how trauma will affect their ability to keep going. Perhaps the trickiest thing to wrap our heads around is how the villains will fit into it all if not through death, punishment, or imprisonment. What about all the other trappings of society? The heavily regulated quirk use, the government-funded pros aiding police control and contributing to cover-ups that maintain the illusion of peace. Hero idolization, quirk counseling, civilian helplessness. Judging a person’s worth or character based on their quirk…
It would sound too obvious and cheesy to simply point out that society isn’t “just the way things are,” that change is possible. We all know this, and yet we struggle to pinpoint exactly where to aim our sights, find the source, make any meaningful progress. The other day I read some articles from my university’s student newspaper around 1970, and it made me feel sick wondering if progress is really an illusion. Fact is, it’s easy to intellectually deconstruct society, but very difficult to imagine how to build something else.
In this fictional world, heroes have offered a mythical vision of safety and triumph. When All Might arrived, everything was going to be okay. But let’s not forget how this story began: with a moment where All Might paused, like a bystander, and in his place, a desperate civilian kid hurtled forward without any common sense. If you ask me, it wasn’t that Izuku was so good and pure and selfless, it was that he disregarded everything.
And so the person who “saves the world” (if we can even reduce it to such a concept) is not the person who puts everyone at ease and makes crowds cheer. It’s the person who makes everyone hold their breath, with a feeling in the air like the pressure changed, and it smells like rain. It is natural to be worried about the future. It’s honest. It means you can see what’s really going on. Hero society has never felt this exposed, but the people are held back from the edge of despair because there is also so much potential brewing. Electricity about to strike. The world will NOT go back to the way it was, no matter what. That much is certain. But what if we still live to see the dawn? What then? What if one person’s courage to break the mold makes all the difference?
I’m not just talking about Izuku, you know. I’m talking about Horikoshi.
To an extent, I’ve given up on predicting how exactly things will play out, because if nothing else, I can tell he’s planning something big—so big, I can’t quite picture it. I’m watching and waiting for the one person who can. I just know where he’s coming from. I think about how he’s never come this far before because his other stories were snuffed out. I know he used to struggle to see the future of his career. I relate to his stubbornly rebellious resolve to do what he wants anyway. To keep dreaming. I know that emotional sincerity is his specialty. And now he’s even directly breaking the fourth wall, having characters talk about what’s supposed to happen in comic books. Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, we’ve been shown how something else can happen. He’s not done yet.
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kindestegg · 1 year
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"Maybe if I ask her real nice, I won't have to turn her into a puppet!"
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So... this line has been puzzling me for a WHILE because it feels like it goes against the idea Collector's go-to default is to just puppet-ify everything.
UNTIL someone in a server I was a part of pointed out that hey, doesn't it seem like Collector is also actively trying to nudge King to play something else? That they're tired of this game?
And I thought about the capture the flag game suggestion.
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"What if we switch it up? We could play capture the flag! Us versus... everyone on the Isles!"
Okay, aside from the obvious commentary that Collector sees himself and King against the world (which is. another thing. I need to write up on *biting down on my arm*), it's interesting this implies the people would probably not be puppets anymore, since you'd probably need people who are conscious to actively play in the game, and the whole "people breathing on the moon" discussion doesn't seem like it would happen if they were considering the people as puppets.
It's also worth noting that Collector turning Lilith and Hooty into puppets happens immediately after King tells him The Owl House Game is like playing pretend...
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And also, after Collector asks King what role he gets to play, and King presumably tells him, he uh, does this...
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Which I'm guessing means he was pretty happy to hear he's going to be the main character. And then immediately after...
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... Do you think there's a possibility Collector's go-to isn't in fact to just capture people as puppets, but interpreted this immediately from King's talk of the Owl House Game?
He also lashes out at King for criticizing him over turning Terra into a puppet, claiming he's just "playing pretend".
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And considering how, from King's talk with Eda and Lilith, he's only losing his fear of making Collector mad NOW...
It's possible most of this was born out of a misunderstanding. Collector interpreted the game as having "lots of players" as puppets, the whole Isles as King put it, and King was too scared to tell him that wasn't it. No wonder Collector lashes out when told not to do so, to him it makes no sense because this is how the game is played in his view.
If he's getting tired of this game though, it also explains why he suggested not turning Eda into a puppet first, why he wanted to play something that would keep people free from such a spell, and even why he seemed slightly disappointed that he ended up turning Terra into a puppet too by the end, which is another sentient playmate lost, even if she made him angry.
So... if all of this could have been avoided if King had told Collector that this game shouldn't entail turning people into puppets, I think I have a hunch of the narrative purpose of all this.
It's telling the truth. King has to tell the truth. That there was no Owl House game, that he made it all up, that he was a scared kid desperate to save the people he loved and the Isles and that yes, he did use Collector.
King wasn't in the wrong for lying of course, because it was this or losing everything he loves. But things have been regardless severely more complicated because of this lie.
And I suspect he knows this, as he says he wants to talk to Collector to solve things. Maybe this talking is him telling the truth after all. He does say this directly after communicating that he's losing his fear of making Collector mad. Maybe he's finally gotten courage to confess the truth.
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It's also worth noting again that Collector... doesn't care that King is lying about some things? He barely reacts with anger or shock at him talking to Eda and Lilith and seeing that they're keeping this as secret from him, he only cares when it sounds like King might want to hurt him.
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It sounds silly when you put it this way, but the biggest obstacle keeping their relationship from fully realizing and them resolving things is just a misunderstanding. King wrongfully believing Collector might hurt him and Collector wrongfully believing King is happy playing pretend with him.
Once they actually talk this out, they can finally resolve things.
... the only problem is that I think if King approaches Collector saying he wants to tell him something now...
Collector might just think it has to do with King getting rid of him, and things might turn for the worst.
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squirmhoney · 9 months
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The Pout of Your Lips
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A/N: Thanks to the anon that sent this through, this really got me writing and I loved every bit of it. Unfortunately, I forgot to make the reader innocent but the rest is still in there. This is actually really sweet I can't lie and I hope you all enjoy it. Warnings: Incest. Angst. Mentions of cheating. Soft Aegon. Smut. Cum play. Slightly possessive Aegon. 18+ Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Sister!Reader
That small pout that you do, the one where both of your lips sticks out all puffy, that got Aegon every single time. He only liked to see it on certain occasions, that being when you begged him for the simplicity of his attention or when you were in dire need of a favour that only he could help with. At those times you were perfect for him and all he could think about was planting his lips onto yours.
Never did he want to see that look paired with soaked cheeks as your eyes leaked with tears. But there were those times that he had to. Those days where he cradled your sobbing form into his chest as you struggled to croak out what had happened. 
It horrified him that anybody could bring you to such a wreck, the thought of it made him livid inside. And when you finally managed to explain what had happened and who had got you like this, Aegon saw red. 
“Someone sent me pictures of them,” you blinked furiously as you spoke, desperately trying to stop yourself from crying again. “They were... uh...  kissing and-” Your teeth grinded against each other as you swallowed down another sob.
“It’s okay,” Aegon whispered, pressing his lips against your forehead. “You don’t have to say anymore.” 
You crawled into his lap, allowing him to pull you in as he wrapped his arms around you. Aegon held you with desperation, smothering you with a warm affection you had never got anywhere else. 
“You’re okay now,” Aegon reassured you, arms tightening around you. “I’ve got you.” 
Nothing but broken cries left your lips for what felt like hours until you were nothing but a crumbled mess amongst Aegon’s sheets. It was then Aegon left you in his bed, making sure you were fully tucked in before he stepped out of his bedroom doors. 
-
Without Aegon you struggled to sleep that night, tossing around in his sheets until you found yourself sat up waiting for his return. It wasn’t till past midnight that his bedroom door creaked open and Aegon crept inside. 
You didn’t know who looked more of a mess between the pair of you. You with your tear stained face and puffy cheeks. Or Aegon with the dried blood around his nose and bruises that painted his face. 
“Aegon,” you whispered, moving out of the sheets. 
“You should see the other guy,” Aegon chuckled in a twisted way, an anger still laced in his tone. 
“Come to bed,” you pleaded, arms reaching out for him. 
There was no fight with Aegon. He was quick to strip himself to his boxers, eagerly getting underneath the sheets with you. 
Once his arms wrapped around you though, yanking you towards him, you felt your heart stop for a moment. You hadn’t been intimate like this, not since you were thirteen seeking the love and affection your parents denied you. But now it felt different as his fingers ran along the skin of your back, not nearly the same as when you were both kids. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” you told him, breaking the eerie silence between you. 
He hummed, resting his forehead against yours as you both stared at each other.
It took him a moment to say anything, leaving you alone in your thoughts as your fingers scratched the back of his head. There was a moment before his lips slipped open to speak that you wanted to pull his face closer to yours and smother your lips with his. 
“I wanted to hurt him,” Aegon admitted, leaning in ever so slightly. His nose brushed yours, making you gulp. “I needed to.” 
“But you’re hurt.” You stared back at him with glassy eyes and parted lips, guilt sinking in at how he’d so willingly hurt himself for you. 
“I’m fine.” He retracted from you, just an inch. “He got what he deserved in the end. No one should be able to hurt you like that and get away with it.” 
“I don’t care about him,” you confessed, shuddering lightly when his fingers ran over your bare legs. Your voice came out delicate, stuck in a sigh as you squeezed your eyes shut. “I care about you.” 
“My hand is cold.” 
He was lying, you knew that but yet you ever so happily guided his hand between your thighs. His lips lifted upwards at this, rubbing his hand up and down as he pretended to make it warm. 
“Better?” You asked.
“Better,” He replied. 
But Aegon didn’t leave it at that, running his hands ever so slowly up the skin of your thighs. His eyes scanned yours, giving you the chance to deny him.
“No one is good enough for you,” Aegon was sure of that. 
“Except you?” You giggled only for a second, your nerves getting the better of you. 
“Not even me.” 
You swallowed, biting down on your lip as his hand finally reached the top of your thighs. 
“A guy that preys on his little sister is definitely not good enough for her.” 
You whimpered when his hand cupped you, clamping your thighs down to hold him there. 
“I’m sick and twisted, clearly.” Aegon tried to retract his hand but you squeezed your thighs tighter. 
“Don’t-” you pleaded with him, eyes fluttering closed. “Don’t paint yourself like that. Because if you’re sick, I’m sick t-”
Aegon’s lips smothered yours, nose pushed up against yours as he kissed you gently. At first that was, until it became fervent as his lips worked against yours, practically burying themselves in between yours.
A choked moan left your lips when his fingers brushed your clit, rubbing you through your underwear. 
Aegon withdrew his lips from yours, giving you space to breathe as his lips moved down your neck. His tongue ran down the length of it, sucking till he made his mark across your skin. Clearly he wasn’t satisfied till your neck was painted in purple, matching the dark bruise under his eye. Even then his lips and teeth were grazing the subtle skin of your body, ripping your top off so his lips could attach themselves to your skin again. 
“Aegon,” you needily whispered his name, fingers raking through his hair. 
He looked up, his violet eyes piercing into you as he said, “Let me make you feel better.” 
“Please.” 
Aegon didn’t need any other confirmation than that before he had flipped you on your back, hovering on top of you. He situated himself between your legs, using your hands to slowly push them apart. 
You watched as his fingers slipped into your underwear, moving your legs around to help him take it off. You were eager, unable to stop yourself from sighing once his breath fanned against your wet pussy, dying for him to do something about it. 
“Is this for me?” Aegon asked, pressing his index finger against your wetness. 
You nodded, moaning a bit louder as he slid his finger an inch inside.
Aegon doesn’t miss the way you buck your hips when his finger is fully inside you, smiling smugly at you as he pushes another one in there. It’s a sight he’s been patiently waiting to see for years, you pathetically moaning as he curls his fingers inside you. It’s something he’ll ingrain into his brain, knowing nothing else could ever compare to it. 
“Aegon, I need more.” 
His fingers thrusted into you, creating a rhythm that has you struggling to keep your thighs apart. It feels different to when anyone else touched you before, your whole body feeling ablaze as he reaches down to kiss your thigh. You want to tell him this but you can’t think of the words to get across what you really wanted to say. 
And you think he knows, giving you a reassuring smile before he takes his first taste of you. His tongue delves into your pussy, licking at your clit slowly to get a good taste of you. 
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he confessed before sucking your clit. 
With his fingers working themselves inside of you, massaging your walls and his tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves, you were in heavenly bliss that you had only heard about. 
“Feel good?” Aegon managed to murmur out between wet kisses. 
“Yes,” you nodded again, staring down at him with your mouth hanging open. “It feels good, Aegon.” 
He slips in a third finger, groaning at how your walls wrap around him so snuggly. He can only imagine how he will feel when he’s finally inside you, sock twitching at thought, sending the man into overdrive as he eats you like a wild beast. 
“Ae-” his name got lost in a moan on your lips as he pushed you over the edge. 
The way his fingers brushed against your walls again and again had your thighs trapping him as they squeezed around him. But instead of Aegon pushing them away he did the opposite as he buried himself between them, delving further into you. 
Your head spinned as your fingers twisted in his hair, pussy fluttering around his fingers as you came. It knocked the breath out of you, leaving you a wreck underneath Aegon’s body as he continues to hold you. He only slowed down when he knew you were fully done, making sure his tongue still licked any taste of your slickness before fully parting from your thighs. 
It’s only momentary, he told himself as he hovered back over to your face.
When he was close enough, your hands eagerly pulled him in, hungrily kissing him as you tasted the sweetness of yourself on his lips. It was more than a desire that drove you but a need to feel him inside you, for him to be the one between your legs, even if he was your brother. 
It wasn’t long before you felt him against you. His hard cock pressed against your slit and you couldn’t help yourself as you grinded up onto him, hooking your legs around his hips to get closer. 
“And I thought I was the impatient one,” Aegon grinned into your lips. 
You laughed with him, breath mingling with his as your hand slid in between your bodies. Your hand wrapped around his cock as soon as you found out, giving it a stroke as your thumb played with the head. 
“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes rolling back at the simplest of touches. “Tell me you want this as much as I want this.” 
“I want this, Aegon,” you told him, reassuring him with the soft pout of your lips and an eager nod. 
Aegon’s hand replaced yours, pushing the tip up and down your slit to have you shuddering underneath him. 
When he finally pushed himself into your walls, you let out a harsh gasp, feeling your walls practically sucking him in. He was also there with you, groaning as he pushed himself into the hilt. But he didn’t seem fully satisfied with that, pushing your legs in between the pair of you so he could slide into you from a new angle. 
Then you were feeling full, his thick cock stretching you out so easily, moulding your walls just for him. The thought gave him a smug smile, making you his. The marks on your chest, the way he fit so perfectly inside your body and the way he was sure he’d fill you up with his cum, like no other man had before. 
-
Aegon realised there was another time that he enjoyed the pout of your lips. When you were just like this, chest pressed up against his with wet eyes and a soft pout as he drove you to what must have been your fourth orgasm of the night. He already came once too, a thick ring of cum leaking by the base of where his cock was still thrusting up inside of you. 
He didn’t think he’d ever be done with you even as you struggled on top of him, legs becoming weak from bouncing up and down so much. Even as your eyes fluttered shut, face scrunching up from the intensity of it all. 
When your eyes opened again, you realised how he was staring at you. His pupils dilated, the violet barely noticeable in his eyes. His lips were parted slightly, gentle gasps and moans of his own slipping out now and then.
To you he was utterly beautiful. 
To him you were exactly the same, especially when your lips twitched up into a wide grin looking down at him. He swiped your hair behind your ear, resting his hand on your cheek before sharing that smile with you. 
Aegon grabbed your hips, holding them in place before delivering a particularly hard thrust into you. One that caught you by surprise, nails digging into his shoulders as you let out a choked moan. Your moans started to mingle into one, lips almost touching as you tried to match his pace. It’s a pathetic attempt really, all you could do was grind down onto him, allowing him to be the one to do most of the work. 
You barely could focus on anything, only the look on Aegon’s face as his cock pounded into you. Everything was sending you into overdrive and when Aegon’s fingers brushed over your clit, an orgasm washed over you without warning. Your walls pulsated around him, making you mumble incoherently into his mouth to where neither of you knew what you were saying. 
But Aegon understood how you were feeling, hand holding the back of your neck when your head lulled back. He understood because he felt the same, a warmth rushing through him as your pussy clenched around him. His thrusts started to become sloppy as he panted praises into your lips. 
Before he knew it he was spilling into you again, holding you up as he did. Your mind was blank as he came inside you, drunk off the feel of keeping his cock warm. It’s to the point where your toes are curled and you're unable to realise he’s pushing you back down on the bed again. You only realised when he was pulling out of you, that distinct empty feeling hitting you only for a short period of time, until his cock was replaced with his fingers.
“My pretty little sister,” he admired, head staring at your pussy. His fingers were buried inside of you, the cum leaking around them until he was pulling them out of you again. His fingers played with his cum, spreading it around your slit until you whined at him. 
It was enough for him, knowing he had fully marked you as his. Then he was happy to lie down next to you, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you into his chest again. 
Your eyes opened for a second taking one last look at him, realising this is the first time you had seen him like this before. Completely blissed out, glowing with happiness as he stared back at you. 
“I don’t think you’re not good enough for me,” you whispered to him, closing your eyes again. “I think you’re the only person that’s good enough for me, that’s meant for me.”
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