#When I say that break looks good in anything and everything I mean it
Text
Reaching Out Poly Batboys x Female Reader
Part 3 to Let Her Go and Come Home
Warnings: Language
The door opening breaks the silence you and Azriel had fallen into. "May we come in?" Rhys asks from the doorway. You give a nod before Rhys and Cassian step inside the room. They hovered awkwardly by the door. You don't say anything, afraid to turn this into a yelling match. You start fidgeting with an area of lose thread, smiling a little when you realize it's most likely from your nails gripping the blanket while enjoying one or multiple of your mates. Your smile quickly disappears when Rhys asks why you're smiling. His tone unintentionally harsh. You drop the blanket as your body tenses, anticipating another arguement.
"Nothing." You answer quietly. Rhys is on his knees beside the bed before you can blink. He gently coaxes you to look at him, hating how broken and twisted up everything becomes. "Darling, I didn't mean for that to come out the way it did. I just wanted the chance to smile with you again. I'm sorry." He says as he gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. "We all want a chance to smile with you again." Cassian confirms gently. Their eyes almost pleading as you look between them.
Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, you try to blink away the tears. Rhys gently thumbs them away while Azriel carefully pulls you into his arms. "Let it all out, darling." Rhys softly coos while Cassian softly strokes your hair. "I want things to stop being awkward and get back to how they were before all this." You manage between sobs. "I know, angel, things will get better. I promise." Azriel whispers as his fingers trace soothing patterns along your back. "I don't want to fight anymore, and I don't want to be without any of you anymore." You say as tears continue down your cheeks. "You don't have to, princess, we're not going anywhere." Cassian says.
"Would you like us to run you a hot bath? Would that help?" Azriel asks. "That would be nice, but I don't want to be a bother." You answer quietly. "You're never a bother, angel. I'll get it started." Azriel assures you before leaving you with Cassian and Rhys. Cassian gently pulls you into his lap and continues to rub your back. You feel yourself relaxing into his touch. Moments later, Azriel returns to tell you that your bath is ready. You leave them to go soak in the hot water, surprised to smell your favorite oils, and see your candles still scattered about and lit. The gesture brings a smile to your face.
Meanwhile, Azriel and Cassian are resting in the bed while Rhys lingers by the door. "What is it?" Azriel asks, noticing the tension in Rhys's body. "Nothing." He answers in a short tone. "Bullshit, you're would up about something." Cassian piles on. "I need a drink." Rhys says before walking out of the bedroom. "Should we go after him?" Cassian asks. "No, but y/n should talk to him. They've got the most unresolved problems." Azriel says. "We can't force her to talk to him." Cassian says. "We won't have to. She's just as fucked up over it as he is." Azriel replies.
Once the water starts to cool, you decide to step out and dry off. After drying off, you grab one of Rhys's shirts to wear and a clean pair of Cassian's boxers. Your heart stutters as you step into the bedroom and only find Cassian and Azriel still there. "How was your bath?" Cassian asks. "Perfect. Thank you." You respond. Azriel notices you keep glancing towards the door. "Go, sort things out with him." He says. "We'll be right here when you come back." Cassian says, giving his approval. You kiss both of them on the cheek before going to find Rhys.
You find him in his office with a glass of amber liquor in his hand while he's lost in his thoughts. You walk over and lean against his desk in front of him. "Talk to me." You say softly. His fingers gently tug at the shirt you're wearing, "You always did look good in my shirts." He says before taking a drink. You gently reach out and hold his face in your hand as you gently stroke his cheek with your thumb. "Lately, every time I talk to you, I say the wrong thing." He says as he leans into your touch. "You're not the only one saying the wrong things, love." You tell him. "I never should've said half of what I did to you, especially about you being a terrible mate." You say as you run your fingers through his hair.
"I was a terrible mate to you for what I said that night." He admits before stepping back. "I hate myself for making you feel the way you did. I never should've made you feel like you or your feelings were less important. I hate that I told Cassian to let you go instead of fighting for you to stay. I regret so many things that night and the time leading up to it." He says before finishing his drink. You gently take the empty glass from him and sit it on his desk. "We both made a lot of mistakes that night. This isn't only on you." You say before guiding him out to the balcony. You stand in front of him and pull his arms around you.
"Don't step down as high lord. In order for this court to thrive, it needs you." You say as you both look out over Velaris. "What about you? Don't you need me?" He says, sounding vulnerable. "I'll always need you, Rhys. We'll find a balance and make it work." You say confidently. His wings wrap around you, protecting you from the cool air. "What if things get bad again, and I screw up?" He asks. "We won't let it get to this point. From now on, we all talk about what's making us unhappy and work on fixing it together." You say as you lean into him. "We'll both screw up from time to time, but we'll come out stronger in the end." You continue as he rests his head on yours. "You've been spending too much time with Azriel." Rhys teases, causing you to roll your eyes.
#Acotar#poly batboys#batboys x reader#rhysand x reader#cassian acotar#azriel acotar#rhys x reader#cassian x reader#azriel x reader
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Say Don’t Go | 911 7x10 spec
Based on the stills and my brain not shutting up
“I hate you!”
Christopher’s voice resonates through the hallway until his door slamming cuts it off. Eddie flinches and Buck’s heart breaks.
“Chris-“
Eddie moves half a step forward and Buck stops him by the shoulder before he can go after his son. It’s not going to help. If he knows anything about angry teenagers (having been one particularly angry himself) is that Chris needs a moment away from his dad.
The problem are those big brown eyes. Because when Eddie looks back at him, so lost and heartbroken and desperate, Buck knows he has to do something. Because this is wrong, it’s just wrong, and Buck knows he cannot fix everything for the people he loves but he cannot —will not— stop trying no matter how impossible it feels.
“Let- let me try and talk to him,” Buck asks.
“What?”
Helena and Ramon both turn to him with equal disbelief, but Buck doesn’t even bother looking at them. They’ve been so ready to take this opportunity to rip Chris away from Eddie. And, sure, they are worried and Eddie should’ve handled this a lot better, but they aren’t even giving him the chance. So he doesn’t look at them, he keeps his eyes on Eddie who gives him the smallest, pleading, nod.
That’s all Buck needs. With one final squeeze, he lets go of Eddie and moves across the living room with long strides before the Diaz’s can stop him.
Who does he think he is? What gives him the right to intervene? How dare he even be here? Whatever they are thinking, comes second to Chris and Eddie.
Buck knocks gently on the door.
“Go away!”
“H-hey, buddy, it’s me. Can I come in?”
There’s a long terrifying pause that nearly shatters what’s left of Buck’s heart before the reluctant “okay.”
With a relieved sigh, he pushes in.
Christopher is sitting on the edge of his bed, a packed backpack by his side. For a second, Buck thinks of another day, years ago, when he found him just like this. Back then, Buck’s biggest fear was that Eddie’s heart would stop. Today, he’s terrified it will break beyond repair.
“Hey, Chris.”
“Hey, Buck,” he says, looking down at his hands.
Awkwardly, Buck makes his way to the bed and sits on the edge next to the boy. He’s so big now, older and taller, but he can still see the same child that had to comfort him after the shooting.
“Chris, are you sure about this? Leaving your dad, even if it’s just for a while… that’s not going to fix things between you.”
“I don’t want to fix them,” Chris snaps, sharply. “He lied to me! He lied to Marisol, to you, he lied to everyone!”
And that’s not something Buck can argue.
“Yeah, he- he screwed up, Chris, but you need to understand.”
“I understand! Why would he that! He’s- he always told me to tell the truth and to be good but he was a liar.”
“Hey, hey, that’s- that’s not fair. One mistake doesn’t make him a liar. He just- listen, Chris, you know your dad loves you more than anything in the whole world, right?”
He’s met with silence.
“Right?”
Chris gives a noncommittal shrug.
“Right,” Buck nods. “Because he does. And he would never, ever, do anything to hurt you.”
“But he did! It hurt! Seeing her and thinking it was her… it hurt, Buck.”
“I know, buddy… I do. I just- I meant, he would never hurt you on purpose.”
“He had to know it would hurt.”
“He did. Which is why he lied…”
Christopher huffs and Buck has the horrible feeling he’s not being as helpful as he hoped. What was he thinking? Just because he loves Chris with his whole heart it doesn’t mean he knows the first thing about being a parent. He only knows what Eddie taught him.
The memory hits home like a wave. Sunlight, a warm hand on his shoulder, his heart twisting from guilt to relief and to something bigger he couldn’t name.
“You know, your dad isn’t perfect.”
“No, he isn’t,” Chris scoffs.
“He isn’t perfect,” Buck repeats, tone pleading Chris to let him finish, “and he knows it. He told me once himself, that he’s failed many times as your dad. But he also said that he loves you enough to never give up, to never stop trying to be better… for you.”
Chris is quiet, but by the way his shoulders hunch and his head tilts, Buck thinks he might be getting to him. So he pushes on.
“And- and the thing is, Christopher, your dad is very hurt right now. It’s- it’s nothing like the time he was shot… it’s something… deeper, older. Because, you see, when Shannon- when your mom died, it really hurt your dad. He loved her so much… and I don’t think he ever healed from it, not really. I think that’s why he did all this. Because he’s in pain…”
Christopher peers at Buck from under his curly fringe, reluctantly making eye contact.
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No, it doesn’t. But- but I think your dad really needs us right now. He- he needs you,” he corrects quickly. “This time, I think your dad needs you not to give up on him.”
“But I’m still mad.”
“And- and that’s okay. You can be mad. You get to be angry or sad or confused, I just- I just hope you can fight for your dad, like he does for you. Because, Chris, if he loses you… I think the pain will be too much this time.”
Chris is quiet. And Buck is exhausted.
“I don’t wanna make you feel responsible for him, Christopher. I promise, whatever you choose, I’ll have his back and make sure he is okay. I just- I think he needs both of us right now.”
“Why are you defending him? Aren’t you mad too? He lied to you too.”
“I- yeah, he did. But he’s my best friend, and I love him. I’m not quitting on him, he’s never given up on me.”
“Hmmm.”
It takes a couple minutes before Chris decides to get back up. Buck stays only because he isn’t asked to leave and, only when he sees the boy step outside does he dare follow cautiously.
In the living room, whatever Eddie was talking in hushed tones with his parents dies down immediately. He only has eyes for his son as he approaches.
“Mijo-“
“You have to promise that it won’t happen again,” Christopher demands, voice shaky. “You need to try to do better and you have to promise that you won’t lie to me again.”
Eddie walks towards his son like he is in a dream, eyes tearful. Buck can see him trembling even from afar, where he’s found a corner to tuck himself into and disappear.
“Christopher,” Eddie says, kneeling before his son and gently holding him, “I swear- te lo juro por mi vida. I will do better. I will- I will be better for both of us. I will spend every day trying to be a better father for you.”
“Okay,” Chris says.
“Okay?”
“I’m staying.”
Eddie leans forward to hug his son, but is met with a gentle push back.
“I’m still mad at you, dad.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Of course,” Eddie mumbles, but the relief in his voice is still palpable.
Eddie looks past Chris’s shoulder and his eyes find Buck. The look in his face… Buck knows Eddie like the back of his hand but he cannot quite place what it is. Thankfulness and relief and hope… but there’s something else behind it that makes Buck’s heart twist painfully.
So Buck looks away, tries to find something —anything— else to focus on and lands on the Diaz’s faces. Eddie’s parents look at him with… well, it isn’t quite anger, but there’s a confusion there and a bewilderment that somehow makes Buck even more uncomfortable. He ducks his head and beelines for the kitchen. He should let them be alone…
“Buck!” Eddie is rushing after him before he can get to the door.
When he turns around, he finds Eddie standing there, shaking and shocked. Buck waits, but Eddie doesn’t seem to have any more idea than he does about what he planned to say next.
“Sorry, I- I should probably go.”
Eddie takes a step forward, with that look still on his face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Buck goes on. “Just- just be with your son tonight.”
“You sure? You could stay.” Eddie steps closer.
“No, it’s- it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude, with your family-“
“Buck-“
“And Tommy is waiting at my place, so…”
Eddie stops. He blinks.
“Right, yeah. Of course. Just- I- Thank you.”
Buck smiles, even if the air between them still feels charged.
“I have your back, Eddie. Always.”
And before anything else can get his head spinning he steps out the back door. Only once outside does he stop and finally breathe. That was… that felt like… but it cannot be. It wasn’t. Even if Eddie looked like he wanted to-
No, of course not. Better get going, before his heart can manage to fool itself once again.
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Hellooooo can I make a request where Kunikida has been away from his s/o for some time, whether it’s from a long mission away or the s/o had to go away on a business trip (up to you) and they see each other again and make up for lost time (if you get what I mean, wink wonk)
Can be smutty/suggestive as you like and I don’t mind f!reader or gn!reader! Thank you 🥰
I love this sm thank you smsmsmsm anon ily <3
- Okays so we know how busy the agency often is and our sweet Kunikida likes to get everything done to absolute perfection
- This man literally writes everything in his planner and will break down if he misses anything
- Often resulting in you comforting overworked Kunikida (I will 100% write this as a soft fluffy fic)
- You had also been super super busy with your own personal work (family, career etc.) so you hadn't been able to see him much either :(
- You still texted each other good morning and goodnight
- He obviously had to message you to remind you to drink water, eat and take care of yourself (this man has it all written in his book aww)
- Either way it had been ages since you last felt each others touch
- Yosano clearly noticed how much Kunikida missed you because he started staring at the picture of you he has on his desk and zoning out (aw) and he was more iritable than usual
- She convinced (yelled at) him to take a break and eventually managed to get you both some time together (ily Yosano)
- You and Kunikida meet up at your favourite café
- This man's expression was so cute when he saw you (please he'd be so giddy and excited but he'd wanna put up a tough front to not make a fool of himself help)
- He'd also have practiced what he'd say in the mirror
- You both get your favourite drinks and some cake and talk to catch up (he may or may not have missed half your words because he's busy staring at your eyes. Damn how he missed them.)
- You both end up going back to his place where he immediately wraps his arms around you from behind
Kunikida had his arms wrapped around you from behind. One hand on your abdomen and the other around your chest in a tight embrace. He buried his face in your neck as he whispered
"I've missed you so much..."
You smiled softly and took his hand, guiding it to your lips as you kissed the back of his hand
"I know, love..."
NSFW DOWN BELOW
You're pushed back onto his bed as he climbs over you, capturing your lips in his as he holds your cheek, his other hand messing with the hem of your shirt.
He takes your shirt off, immediately throwing it aside and admiring the sight of you. You're perfect. Everything he could ever want and more.
He only stares briefly before giving a small peck to your lips and kissing down to your neck, earning a small gasp out of you. After all, he missed you like crazy and wanted to kiss every inch of you.
Pulling away after leaving a hickey, Kunikida starts trailing kisses down to your chest, skillfully slipping off your bra and continuing to kiss down your body. In between kisses he's mumbling
"Fuck, I love you. I love you so much. I can't live without you, my angel."
Once he reached your lower stomach, you sat up and grabbed at his belt, looking up at him with those eyes he adores.
He swiftly slides his pants off and watches as you fall to your knees before him, sliding his boxers off and taking his hardened length in your hand.
Kunikida let out a soft groan as your tongue licked a stripe up his tip.
"Ah- you know you don't have to-"
"Shh. I want to. Relax."
You lick another stripe before taking it in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head on his dick as he interwines his hand with your hair.
"Ahh..just like that.." he breathes out as your mouth works on his length.
His hands tighten their grip as he feels himself close to the edge, his breathing heavier and soft moans escaping his lips.
"O-Oh fuck- don't stop, I-"
He gasps out as he cums. You take it all and swallow causing Kunikidas cheeks to blush further.
"O-Oh my-"
"Shh, I love you."
With that, he picks you off the floor and pins you to his wall.
"It's only fair if I return the favour, right?"
Divider credit to cafekitsune <3
Omg so idk how good this is but I hope you like it <3
-Kennedy 💜
#bungo stray dogs#bsd smut#bungo stray dogs x reader#kunikida doppo#kunikida bsd#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs kunikida#kunikida x reader#kunikida smut
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I'm currently in my third run and one thing doesn't give me peace. In the conversation between Ash and Charlie. Charlie asks Ash if she told us he could help us. But damn, what does he mean by that? 😟 I always rack my brain when I read this passage.🤔 what is your theory about what Charlie could mean? how could he help us and with what? 😩🧐 I wish you a nice day and look forward to your thoughts! 💜
YOUR THIRD???? HOWWWW??? ARE YOU A WITCH? A WIZARD?? JAKE??
Okay, joke aside. 🤭
Yes!!!! This is bothering me sooooo much as well. Like, do not do this, Everbyte! Don't throw this in front of our feet and run away! We wanted a piece of cake! Not only the crumbs! 😭
I seriously have no idea what this could mean. We know that we don't have contact with the group anymore. And we also know that out case was everywhere on the news. So the question is, what did they say there? What kind of information did they share which made Charlie belive he can help us?
I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with Jake. Ash told us they never mentioned Jake. But this could also be a lie since I don’t really trust her yet.
I could maybe imagine that the group... Even if I don't know if it makes much sense... But maybe our lovely friends had to join Phil in prison, lol.
Sounds weird and unlikely, somehow, I know. But if we remember all the crimes they did. Breaking in, keeping informations a secret, lying to the police, driving under the influence of alcohol 👀
Oh, and of course hiding a government-wanted hacker. I guess that could be a huge problem. And maybe it's not even the fault of the Duskwood police. We all consider the FBI not really kind. So maybe they don't like it if you hide their main suspect and that's why they had to join Phils little prison party.
I don’t know, this could be one thing.
The other thing, but I don’t know if that could help the others... 🤔
But I mean, we still suspect that Michael Hanson is alive. He just left and started a new life. And maybe this new life happens in a small city called Redlog Pines.
But as I said, I don’t know why this should affect the others in any way.
And it seems not logical enough to me that Charlie means he could just drive to Duskwood to talk to them. That would mean they know we don't have contact to the group anymore. But I don't think that's something they news would report. xD
Wahh, I don’t know. I mean, what if Charlie is a hacker as well? Not as good as Jake. Just someone who learned about it and is able to hack some websites and systems etc.
But somehow... Another hacker? I don’t know.
WAHHHHH, this question is killing me. xD
OK wow wow wow wow wow, I had just remembered something.
Whaaaaat if... Okay that's weird now and it's complicated since it's only a thing male MC experienced at the end of Duskwood. If I remember correctly, it was even you who told me about it.
But anyway.
At the end of Duskwood, Jessy tells make MC that she had a boyfriend but it wasn't a very good relationship.
And I mean, why was that mentioned? Sure it fitted the story but what if there's more behind it..
What if... What if Jessys ex is one of the new guys? And that's why there's a connection with duskwood? 🤔
Could that be? I mean, it sounds unlikely, even to me. But somehow... 🤔
Uhh, I don’t know, I'm guessing a lot.
Of course I was hoping it has something to do with Jake but I don't really think that's how it is. Not everything can be about him and it would rarely have to do with the Duskwood group.
But maybe Charlie has a connection with one of them. Maybe Dan or Thomas? Oh, maybe Thomas? As I remember correctly, Thomas did not grow up in duskwood.
But then again, Charlie's shock when he realises that we're the MC from Duskwood.. I mean, would you still react this way when you know someone who was also part of it?
And also, Ash seems to know as well that Charlie can help us. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked it this way.
Oof, I don’t know. Right now I sadly can't think of anything else but I'm dying to find out what is meant by that. And I hope we don't have to wait that long to find out. :')
Have you any idea for it? I love to read it soo..
And thank you so much for asking, it was very interesting to think about it and I feel honoured I was the one you asked, hehe. Does that sound weird? 😅 Anyway. I hope my thoughts are entertaining or similar.
And of course, I hope you will have a wonderful day. Take care of yourself and stay healthy and safe 💚🫶🏻🥰
#mimiko-1708#moonvale#moonvale episode 1#moonvale spoiler#moonvale x duskwood#duskwood side story#moonvale episode 1 spoiler#moonvale theories#moonvale game#everbyte moonvale#moonvale everbyte#everbyte studio#everbyte game#hbj mv x dw answers
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Annoyed Series
Yunho
Pairing- Yunho x Named Reader
Word count- 914 Words
Includes- Everything is consensual, established relationship, car sex, missionary, mean Dom Yunho, fluff
Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa
@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @amyz78 @marvelfamily3000 @bykeynote
Gif Credit- Kyungsoosus
Masterlists- check out for more fics
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"Get in the fucking car Joanne", I growl
"No!", she stamps her feet, making everything worse
I tried to take her out on a dinner date
I had to meet her at the restaurant and I was running late because of practice
An hour late
And she's pissed
I get it but I couldn't do anything about it
I apologized when I got there but she was being a brat the whole time
I tried to make it better, tried to hold her hand, kiss her, talk to her but she ignored me, pulled her hand away from mine and snapped at me to leave her alone
We ate in complete silence, I asked if she wanted dessert, she told me she wants to go home
And I'm done
She started yelling at me on the way to the car and I'm just ignoring her
Now she's having a tantrum in the parking lot
"I said I was sorry!", I shout
"That's not good enough!"
I put my tongue in my cheek, trying to keep calm, "Get in the fucking car"
"No", she snarls and continues yelling and I just want her to be quiet
Stalking to her, I pull her to me, kissing her to keep her quiet
"What the fuck Yunho-"
"Shut up!", I growl, pulling her back to me
This time she kisses me back, holding onto my shirt
Her tongue moves against mine, deepening the kiss, sending shocks up and down my spine
I move backwards, taking her with me, towards the car
Fumbling with the door handle, I get the back seat open, break the kiss and shove her in the car
She lands on her back, squealing as I climb after her, shutting the door
Grabbing the skirt of her dress, I shove it up and pull her panties down and off
"What the fu-", she says, her words trialing off as I start playing with her clit
"I said shut up", I snap, undoing my pants with one hand
Getting them and my boxers down, I move on top of her, impaling her on my cock right away, her pussy greedily sucking my cock as she thoroughly soaks me
She glares at me as she looks up at me and I return the look
Gripping her hips, I pull out then slam back in, forcing her cunt open and burying all in
"Fuck!", she groans as I start moving, mercilessly fucking her right off the bat, pleasure exploding in my vision
It's so fucking cramped in the back seat but I'm making it work
"When I tell you to get in the car, you get in the fucking car", I snarl, pounding into her pretty little cunt
She takes me so fucking well, her cunt small but she swallows my whole cock eagerly
"Fuck off", she snaps, her eyes rolling to the back of her head when I smash her spot, her body shivering against the seat
"No you fuck off. I said I was sorry!", I growl, drilling my cock into her with each word, "I tried to make it better but you were being a fucking cunt"
She glares at me and it just annoys me further
"Don't look at me like that", I bark, snapping my hips harder, "I love you and you're such a brat"
The sound of her pussy squelching around my cock is so loud between our harsh breathing, her cunt creaming my cock so much she's leaving a creaming ring around my base
Even angry, I always make sure I fuck her good
"I love you", she snaps, "But I'm pissed that you're always late! And I have to sit there like an idiot waiting for you"
I get it's not an ideal situation but again I couldn't help it and she knows that
I texted her, told her she could leave and we could do something later on but she refused
I hike her legs higher around my waist, giving me some more room to pound her
Pulling the top of her dress down, I pop her boob out of her bra
Leaning down, I take it in my mouth and suck on it, her pussy clenching so acutely
I moan, feeling her nipple get rock hard in my mouth making it so much easier to suck on
I wrap my hand around the rest of her boob, squeezing as I tug and play
Bliss washes over me and I could stay buried inside her forever
Her pussy clenches and spasms quickly the more I rail into her, signalling her impending orgasm
"Cum around my cock now", I snap, "Then we'll go home and I'll cuddle you"
"Fine!", she growls
Slamming her spot again, her body arches as she orgasms, intense pleasure blinding me
I cum with her, filling her tiny pussy with cum, her moans of my name so fucking pretty
"Fuck", I groan as I finish, leaning over her and pressing a soft kiss to her lips
Her arms move around my neck, her fingers sliding in my hair, kissing me back
Leaning my forehead against hers, I tell her, "I love you"
"I love you", she murmurs, "Can we go cuddle now?"
I chuckle, "Yeah jagi. Let's get ourselves together and we can go"
She strokes my face nodding, "You own me a date. Where you're on time"
I nod, giving in, "Yeah baby. I promise"
"Good", she smiles, pulling me back to her in a kiss
#jeong yunho fanfic#yunho fanfic#jeong yunho smut#ateez yunho smut#yunho smut#ateez fanfic#ateez smut
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Rui mizuki’s lines from Tokyo debunker if you haven’t yet PLEASE I will love you for all eternity
They’re edging me with the rui crumbs every chapter I can’t take it anymore
One flirty reaper coming right up!! And by right up i mean almost a week after you asked hhahaha
BUT YEAH WE DO GET A LITTLE OF HIM HERE AND THERE i wonder why he pops up so much. Especially for someone who allegedly tries not to be around other people much due to his deadly touch? Kinda sus--
also this is the first time i've posted all of someone's lines! not that i don't always end up posting 95% of them anyway, but for some reason some of Rui's were ordered weird(they're normally not entirely in order but they're usually sectioned properly, but for some reason one of his affinity chats was way in the wrong place) and I ended up closely paying attention to which one i was looking at and before i knew it i posted all of them lmao. . . .
You've Got Mail:
"Huh? Did you know you've got unread messages? Oh, that's why you've been leaving me on delivered! Ahaha!"
no that's just because my adhd makes me hyperfocus on things and it refuses to allow me to attempt to allot attention or energy to things it deems me not having enough attention span or energy or time for and i'm sorry--
Default:
"Aw c'mon Ed, again? Why does he always leave his socks on the floor... It's actually exhausting picking up after him all the time..."
lazy sloppy vampire lol
"You look kind of tired {PC}, you doing okay?
Why don't you stop by the bar later? I can be your shoulder to cry on."
"Hey! You on break now?
If you're super nice and you're gonna come chill with me now, put your hands up!"
"{PC}...were you just checking me out?
Hey, it's all good, don't be embarrassed!"
"Oof, Ed popped out of nowhere so I accidentally touched him and he died again. Now I have to carry him all the way back to the dorm..."
i love the face he makes when he says this lmao like he is so tired of Ed's carelessness!
ignore that he's in the casino i always have my background set there since i usually have taiga as my hs
Affinity 1:
"{PC}! Did you come here to see me first thing?
No way! You just made my day!"
Affinity 2:
"Aw c'mon, Ed, what are you doing sleeping out here? Didn't you just take a nap, old man? You're gonna catch a cold!"
Affinity 3:
"Oh hey, it's {PC}!
Can't believe I ran into you here, so random! Guess we've gotta go on a date now, huh? It's like, written in the stars!"
i love flirty characters like rui lolol just. there's always More Going On there. and Rui starts off with More right off the bat.
Affinity 4:
"I can touch the plants as long as I have gloves on!
I mean yeah, I'm pretty sure the same goes for people, but don't you think it'd be scary to test it out?"
Affinity 5:
"Come swing by the bar later! I'd rather watch a pretty face like yours while I work instead of a bunch of drunk guys."
Affinity 6:
"What? Ed was praising my good looks?
I mean he's right, right? People always tell me my face is my only redeeming feature!"
but rui works so hard!? who's saying that!!
Affinity 7:
"Oh sorry, I don't do the whole class thing! You go, I'm all good here!"
Affinity 8:
"Ouch! Aw man, that rose thorn just scratched my arm...
Wait, nooo! My rose bushes are wilting!!"
it's so easy for him to accidentally kill anything lmaoooo
Affinity 9:
"Are you out here by yourself, {PC}? Isn't that like not super dangerous?
...Wait, did that make sense?
Whatever, let me walk you back!"
Affinity 10:
"Sorry! A drunk customer broke a glass, so I'm cleaning it up! Everyone's a little pent-up lately, I guess."
Affinity 11:
"Watering plants in the AM is such a mood lift, right?
Whoa, everything's blooming like crazy out here! Better get my pruning shears."
it's a testament to how well he takes care of these plants that they grow super well in permanently-night Obscuary, i think. 8'D
Affinity 12:
"Huh? Look, you've got loose threads on your uniform. Give it to me, I'll fix it for you!"
Affinity 13:
"Hey, {PC}, did you eat yet? My door's always open! You can just stay the night after!"
damn already inviting you to stay over at affinity 13--just don't share the bed, you'll wake up super dead
Affinity 14:
"(yawn) Wow, I am dead tired...
but I've gotta take a shower, make breakfast, and do the laundry before those two sleepyheads get up."
it takes a real man to be a single mother. . . .
Affinity 15:
"Oh hey, what's your poison? Wait, I mean, morning!
Man, I tried to take my friend's drink order when we were hanging out yesterday too, occupational hazard I guess."
Affinity 16:
"A mission? I'm good, thanks though!
Oh hey, you should invite Lyca! He'd totally be into that!"
Lyca also probably needs them to pass the grade lol
Affinity 17:
"No way, look at the time!
Wish I could keep listening to you talk... Wanna stay over?"
Affinity 18:
"Oh man, I'm sorry! I'm closing early, I've got plans with a friend tonight. It'd be awesome if you could come by tomorrow!"
Affinity 19:
"Congrats on making it through another day, {PC}!
I seriously admire you for working so hard. You're not doing this all for me, are you?"
Affinity 20:
"Morning!
Whoa, you wanna help me with the housework, {PC}? It's all good, thanks though! The thought's more than enough for me."
c'mon, refusing help at affinity 20? let the pc be your little helper at least!
Affinity 21:
"Obscuary looks like it'd be full of downers, but it's actually pretty lively in there, right?
Not gonna lie, I def prefer it that way."
Affinity 22:
"Lyca's an open book, but the flip side is he says the darndest things... I feel like watching him is bad for my heart..."
he talks so much about his teammates, he really is such a mom. . . .
Affinity 23:
"My eyes are red? Huh, that's weird...
Oh yeah, I was cutting onions just now when I was preparing the appetizers for the bar!"
. . .idk this is pretty high affinity. . .you were crying about something weren't you rui. . .or romeo paid you in weed and you were getting tweaked up in the back of the bar
Affinity 24:
"Oh, don't worry about me, I always sleep late! I'm down to chat till you drift off to dreamland."
Affinity 25(max):
"Sometimes I wish I could've met you as a regular guy.
I guess you wouldn't have given me the time of day if I had though, ahaha."
is it just me or. . .does it feel like he gets a little more distant as his affinity gets higher? like after affinity 17 it feels like he gets a little less flirty and a little more at arms length. . .like he knows his feelings are getting so strong that he might not be able to resist touching you, but he's too scared to do it even with the gloves on. . .so he tries to keep you a little further away. . .and then he admits it, he wishes he could be with you like a normal person, but if he were just some flirt in the street none of this would have ever happened. Poor Rui, he's cursed to be beloved but unable to give love how he wants in return.
Spring:
"Oh man, so nice... The weather's like perfect this time of year, right? Wish we could just chill like this forever."
"Man, you wouldn't even know it was spring with how bleak it is in Obscuary! Aren't there any cuter anomalous plants out there?"
"I feel like Ed's getting more senile every day... Maybe I should confiscate his tablet."
"So, what do you think of my spring-inspired cocktail? Almost as cute as you, right? I'm gonna add it to the menu!"
Summer:
"C'mon! It's summer, how can the sun never rise in Obscuary!? I wanna get a tan!"
"It's not summer if you don't hit the beach! I used to go all the time back when I surfed. And then I'd pick up girls on my way home...
Just kidding, I promise!"
why 'just kidding' lolol you're not together! this relationship is not monogamous even if you were!
"Ta-da! I've got sparklers!
Fireworks are fun and all, but there's something special about holding a light that only sparkles for a hot moment."
"It's so hot out, I bet the bar's gonna be a ghost town...
Guess I'll send Harurin and Romi a PR message!"
reaching out to the local population of alcoholic ghouls to remind them to give him business lol
Autumn:
"There's so many dead leaves this time of year, it's a nightmare keeping on top of them!
But you can use them to make a fire and roast stuff. Gotta look on the brights!"
"Hey {PC}, when are you free? I have a date idea for us—a romantic walk to admire the fall leaves! I'll pack us a lunch!"
"Oh damn! You look so cute all bundled up like that, {PC}! We've gotta take a selfie together!"
direct contrast to romeo who sees you in winterwear and calls you a fat slug kekw
"That piano anomaly makes the soundtrack for the bar! The song picks really tug at the heartstrings, right?"
Winter:
"You're a little late today, huh? If you can't get up in the cold, I could be your alarm!"
just gotta be really loud since he'd be too afraid to touch you awake, since he actually wants you to y'know wake up--
"Oh man, how is Lyca so full of energy when it's this cold? You should take him to Frostheim and see if he runs around in the snow like a puppy."
rui pointing at lyca: that dog is my son please take care of him
"Nothing like winter to make you miss the warmth of human touch...
Oh, I'm good! Just getting to talk like this is all I need!"
BBY WE ARE ALL BUNDLED UP. YOU CAN HUG YOU'VE BOTH PROBABLY GOT ON AT LEAST TWO LAYERS JUST DON'T TOUCH FACES.
"Here, this Rui-original hot cocktail will warm you up!
I'll blow on it for you, free of charge!"
is this the next step after gamer bathwater. host club host breath.
His birthday:
"Yeah, it's my birthday today!
Oh damn, you're gonna celebrate it with me!? No way, I'm like, super touched right now!!"
Your birthday:
"{PC}... Happy birthday!!
C'mon, birthday girl, sit down and chill out! This is your day, you should take it easy!"
New Years:
"Happy New Year!
Want to start the year off on a high and come on a shrine date with me?"
Valentine's Day:
"Oh damn, are these for me?
My heart! Is this your way of professing your love to me? Do I have a shot here?"
White Day:
"Ta-da! Happy White Day! This is for you!
What's inside? You've gotta open it and find out!"
April Fool's Day:
"Guess what!? I finally broke my curse! Let's hold hands...
just kidding! April Fools!"
this feels more like a joke on him than on you. . .a mean one at that lol
Halloween:
"Happy happy happy Halloween!!
Trick or treat! Obviously I'm picking trick,
ahaha!"
Christmas:
"Merry Christmas, {PC}! Oh man, I must be like, super blessed to get to spend it with you!"
Idle:
"Hey, hey, hey! We finally get to spend some time together, it's illegal to take your eyes off me!"
"{PC}?
You seem kind of busy, guess I'll take this chance to get some work done…"
Absent:
"{PC}, you're back! I was worried you'd forgotten about me!!"
he's so flirty and clingy, but also he can't be clingy because he's scared you'll die if he touches you, even if he's wearing gloves. . .also surely your curse would cancel out his? Then again I'm sure a reaper i stronger than any other [living] anomaly out there. . . .
but. yeah. rui's a darling haha he just. he's another one of the 'i just wanna be a regular person, i wanna go back to normal' characters whose desire to just be a guy makes him special in a more fantastical world. i'm really looking forward to seeing the Obscuary chapter--probably like a month away, right? 'u'
#tokyo debunker#rui mizuki#danie yells answers#danie yells with anons#danie yells at tokyo debunker#tokyo debunker spoilers#datamining cw#why am i exhausted lol
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1 day i will make a meta of sansa's dynamic with her metaphorical champions/suitors & how that correlates to the ashford theory (i.e sansa being betrothed to joffrey baratheon, then promised to willas tyrell, then being married to tyrion lannister, then being married to harry hardying then married to aegon vi targaryen & aurane velaryon but it is not this day. lmao. when i make that meta it'll be so over for y'all.
#out of the galaxy. || ooc.#just know that. she never marries after aurane. btw lmao#like if he like g-d forbid ever died before she did she'd like. literally never marry or love again like. thats it lmfao#but anyway like. she has a complicated relationship w/ all of them tbh & reflects on them sometimes.#she obviously hates joffrey for him abusing her but like. she can't help but feel sad for him at times bc like. he was so young.#if he had the right people around him maybe he would've turned out okay eventually. but it didnt happen. she never met willas but sometimes#she wondered what it would've been like to be lady of highgarden but she hopes he's doing alright. her dynamic w/ tyrion is. complicated#like. he was never like openly cruel to her or anything & she's grateful to him for saving her life & standing up for her but like.#there's always that grief surrounding their families & i think she resented & mostly afraid of him at the time but in hindsight she's+#grateful that he never hurt her or forced himself on her. harry she hardly knew unfortunately but like she disliked him at first#but then he actually seemed to warm up to her & she had him tied around her lil finger but she knows that she wouldn't like to be married+#to a guy who actually has children w/ sb else. like. she's seen how that played out & while she wouldn't be mean it makes her uncomfortable#but especially surrounding aegon bc like. she's not naive enough to say she loved him but like. she actually LIKED him#like. while she was wary of him at first she warmed up to him & genuinely respected him as a person & most importantly aegon was her FRIEND#they got along rly well due to their similar upbringings & what they had to do to survive & like. he's actually a decent guy in canon. lmao#he's handsome & was chivalrous & honorable & sweet w/ her but also like batshit insane in a good way. like.#he was the golden prince she always wanted since she was a little girl; the prince that joffrey was supposed to be but never was.#he gave her a future as queen of westeros that was originally HERS. so when daenerys eventually executes him she has mixed feelings about i#aegon was good to her & she'd vowed not to betray him & she actually intended to keep that vow. to her she was forever in his debt+#he gave her a future from her isolation & suffering @ winterfell bc of how much everything changed & he waited for her to love him back.#he actually showed her respect & gave her a solid future when she felt alone & abandoned & led her gently into a world of his own making+#& gave her back her honor & a future. esp when the north was divided between jon rickon & herself. most preferred jon or rickon over her.#without aegon's intervention she probably would've had to marry some northern lord below her station. the winterfell succession crisis wild#but aurane velaryon? that's the love of her life. her bold captain. he taught her how to love & coaxed her in the sun to bloom & freed her.#freed her from the chains of her family obligations. he taught her to break the rules of tradition & follow her heart & trust her instincts#he was there with her in her darkest hour. he quite literally saved her life & defended her honor when no one else had the balls to do that#no one looks @ or touches her the way aurane does she loved him madly truly & deeply he took her girlhood in his stride but when autumn cam#she escaped & had to push him into the deepest recesses of her mind in the name of survival & pragmatism but she never stopped loving him.#& his sweet memory brought too much heartache & bittersweetness for her. she lowkey waited for him for years. & they EVENTUALLY reunited !#he fought & got legitimized for HER. she's. so genuinely happy w/ that man. he's one of her best friends & the father to her children.
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okay theoretically .. if you were to look at the word count for a chapter.. how many words do you think would make you say "this is too fucking long"
#extremely unsure as to weather i should chop this up yet again cus . i maybe sort of really rushed the planning near the end#when i was drafting everything out at the beginning of november#because i REALLY wanted to start writing but now i am paying for it by having to wrestle with these last few chapters#i think if i did break it up#i have an idea of where i would do so. but then i think i would end up with like a long chapter and then a shorter chapter and then a long#chapter again?#i want to give everything the space to have the attention it deserves and its looking like i might have to split this and make it 12 chapte#chapters if i want that tumblr can you please stop putting error messages over my tags while im trying to type. you bitch#anyways#all that is just to say i'm curious what everyone's opinion would be on what would constitute too long of a chapter#cus right now im thinking if it breaks 10k i'll find a place to break it up#but i'm interested to hear other opinions#i could have said that a lot more concisely instead of having an essay in the tags but u kno#btw NONE OF THIS MEANS ANYTHING IS READY SOON. just incase. i dont want to get anyone's hopes up on accident i think this chapter might tak#take a hot second here to write like i have chunks of it done and i know what i want to happen but i'm going to have to beat at it a lot to#make it happen smoothly#soooooooo be patient with me#for the sake of having a good chapter to read <3 instead of a rushed one <3 thankies <3#not an update
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Types Of Writer’s Block (And How To Fix Them)
1. High inspiration, low motivation. You have so many ideas to write, but you just don’t have the motivation to actually get them down, and even if you can make yourself start writing it you’ll often find yourself getting distracted or disengaged in favour of imagining everything playing out
Try just bullet pointing the ideas you have instead of writing them properly, especially if you won’t remember it afterwards if you don’t. At least you’ll have the ideas ready to use when you have the motivation later on
2. Low inspiration, high motivation. You’re all prepared, you’re so pumped to write, you open your document aaaaand… three hours later, that cursor is still blinking at the top of a blank page
RIP pantsers but this is where plotting wins out; refer back to your plans and figure out where to go from here. You can also use your bullet points from the last point if this is applicable
3. No inspiration, no motivation. You don’t have any ideas, you don’t feel like writing, all in all everything is just sucky when you think about it
Make a deal with yourself; usually when I’m feeling this way I can tell myself “Okay, just write anyway for ten minutes and after that, if you really want to stop, you can stop” and then once my ten minutes is up I’ve often found my flow. Just remember that, if you still don’t want to keep writing after your ten minutes is up, don’t keep writing anyway and break your deal - it’ll be harder to make deals with yourself in future if your brain knows you don’t honour them
4. Can’t bridge the gap. When you’re stuck on this one sentence/paragraph that you just don’t know how to progress through. Until you figure it out, productivity has slowed to a halt
Mark it up, bullet point what you want to happen here, then move on. A lot of people don’t know how to keep writing after skipping a part because they don’t know exactly what happened to lead up to this moment - but you have a general idea just like you do for everything else you’re writing, and that’s enough. Just keep it generic and know you can go back to edit later, at the same time as when you’re filling in the blank. It’ll give editing you a clear purpose, if nothing else
5. Perfectionism and self-doubt. You don’t think your writing is perfect first time, so you struggle to accept that it’s anything better than a total failure. Whether or not you’re aware of the fact that this is an unrealistic standard makes no difference
Perfection is stagnant. If you write the perfect story, which would require you to turn a good story into something objective rather than subjective, then after that you’d never write again, because nothing will ever meet that standard again. That or you would only ever write the same kind of stories over and over, never growing or developing as a writer. If you’re looking back on your writing and saying “This is so bad, I hate it”, that’s generally a good thing; it means you’ve grown and improved. Maybe your current writing isn’t bad, if just matched your skill level at the time, and since then you’re able to maintain a higher standard since you’ve learned more about your craft as time went on
#writing#writers#writeblr#bookblr#book#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writers of tumblr#writer#how to write#on writing#creative writing#writers block#write#writing tips#writers and poets#writblr#female writers#queer writers#writer things#writer stuff#writing is hard#writing advice#writing life#writer problems#writerscreed#writersnetwork#writerblr#writersociety#writerslife
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TW: nsfw, anal, suggestiveness & pressuring
fem reader
Thinking about really boyfriendly boyfriends – simpy and helpful and sweet – boyfriend material perfectly cut as if custom-ordered – boxed and shipped and sent express mail from the boyfriend factory with love.
He’s interested in your hobbies and studies and is equally passionate about sharing his interests with you. He’s comfortable and playful with your family and makes a true effort to befriend your friends. He’s even outgoing at parties where he doesn’t know anyone but you instead of sulking and asking you to leave like so many past boyfriends have.
He likes sharing food, sings loudly in the car, texts you throughout the day, and calls you when he’s at the store before coming over, asking if you need or want anything. He’s open and honest and geeks over new releases – that movie trailer, that game, those sneakers, that album, that car, and all that other boy stuff – and yet never fails to tell you how beautiful you are every time he sees you.
And he likes taking you on dates – cinema, arcade, roller rink, amusement park, road trips, picnics, beach days – or simply hanging out at his or your place – making food, binging a series in bed, kissing and dry-humping…
He’s just, all in all, everything you could’ve ever wished for. Perfect in every way.
Only… there hasn’t been a single time he’s had you in bed where he hasn’t all but begged to fuck your ass…
He’s literally crying for it while moaning, “Please~ lemme put it in~ just wanna try it once, please, baby~” with his hands squeezing your butt over your shorts and his head under your shirt, kissing and sucking your tits with the prayers on his lips as he humps his tented crotch against your clothed cunt – making your panties hot and damp.
You squeeze your eyes shut with a suppressed whine.
He keeps pleading, “I’ll be gentle~ just the tip~ I’ll go so slow~”
His fingers dig into the crevice of your cheeks, wedging your shorts and undies through your slit. Everything clenches from the friction.
Your face is heated, biting your lip with cinched brows. You knew he’d ask for it again today – he never doesn’t. Even though he’ll get pussy-drunk and pound your poor womb in a tight mating press the second he’s made you cum on his fingers.
He slurps your nipple, still begging, “Please, baby, please~ it’ll feel so good~ so-so-so good~”
You’d been deliberating giving in to his incessant proposals for a little while. He’d been so unrelenting you were starting to feel bad denying him for so long.
Not like past boyfriends hadn’t been equally relentless in the ask.
But this one was different… unlike the others… you really like him.
You think you might be in love with him, even though it’s a little early to say.
Still… since he’s so perfect… you want to do your best to be perfect for him, too.
So you’d made yourself ready for it this time – done preparations in the shower.
But… you pout… it was all so embarrassing, and your poor mind was riddled with doubts as though you were a virgin all over again.
What if something… gross happens? What if it hurts so bad you have to stop? Will it disappoint him? What if you hate it but go through with it anyway, only for him to keep asking? What if you have to break up because you won’t ever be able to look him in the eyes again?
“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” His voice slips through the inner turmoil.
He’d resurfaced from beneath your shirt on account of your silence, only to see you’d covered your face in both hands. He gently peels them away – revealing your eyes and the shy way you nibble your lip.
“I’m sorry…” He apologizes then. “I’ll stop asking-”
“No!” You blurt. To his surprise – staring at you with those big puppy-dog eyes you just couldn’t handle seeing look so disheartened. “I mean…”
You look away, cheeks burning – voice just barely above a whisper.
“If you really want to… I’m fine with it…”
He seemed to perk up at that. If he’d had a tail, you know it would be wagging behind him.
His chest swelled, eyes big and unblinking, swallowing thickly – breaths already thick with containment.
He leans in close and nose-kisses you, brushing your lips with heated words, “Really? You’ll let me?”
You made a small sound, too humiliated to say or do much more than nod your head in confirmation.
He seemed to shudder, closing the space between you, kissing your lips softly – he tasted like static – buzzing with restricted urgency. Parting with a soft-spoken yet strained, “Thank you.”
Both his hands messaged your waist – fiddled with the band to your shorts as though he couldn’t wait to drag them down your thighs and free you.
Still speaking against your lips, “Can you turn around on your knees for me?”
Everything was burning – from the tips of your ears to your lips and deep down in your stomach where something equally hungry and anxious was preparing for something.
He moved back to allow you to crawl into position, taking a pillow and placing it underneath you – patting it while telling you to “Lie down.”
You did like suggested, lying with your face and chest against the soft plume, sinking into it with your back in a slope and your ass presented. Heart pounding in your head, loud and hot, as he took position behind you – placing his hand back on your hips.
He hooked his fingers into the band of your shorts again, pulling them back over the fat of your haunches, then dragged them down slowly until they pooled around your knees. You felt the damp heat of his breath immediately hit the peach fuzz on the small of your back – seeping through the cotton of your panties – making your belly brew with butterflies.
“Just relax, okay? Tell me to stop if I go too far.” He said, sensing how you quaked as he placed both palms on your globes – denting the plump flesh with greedy fingers.
It’s not like you haven’t fucked in this position before – it’s just that you knew this time was going to be different. You felt so exposed.
He fingered the frill of your panties and started peeling them off – baring your naked skin and the pretty dip between your cheeks.
You yelped. His mouth was on you before he’d even finished undressing you – placing a sloppy half-bite half-kiss on your upper ass before proceeding to slurp the crack.
You whimpered – flustered and flushed as the heat of his tongue laid wet trails down through the valley until his lips met with your rim. You shuffled your thighs and balled the pillow in small fists as he groaned into you. Shamelessly squeezing your fat with his hands, spreading the cheeks to let him at your little puckered hole.
Your eyes screwed shut while you hid your face in the pillow beneath you – muffling all uneasy sounds as he canted his mouth against your ass. Chin rutting into your puffy cunt while bobbing his jaw, lipping at your taint and rim – nose nuzzled between your cheeks – mouth fully closed around you – moaning at the feel of it pulsing on the tip of his tongue as he runs it over the tight scrunch again and again.
Your shoulders brace as he tries and screw the wet muscle inside. You tense up way too tight for it to happen.
He smacks off with a raunchy sigh. Your heart is in your throat.
Slick from your ignored cunt feels sticky on your swelled pussy-lips – hot and twitching in the cool air.
He pops the cap of the little bottle of lube the two of you always keep on hand. You flinch when his slick fingers come back to rub your hole. He gives it slow and soothing circles before easing the tip inside. Filling you up only to the first joint, waiting for you to relax and loosen before sinking the rest inside.
He hums at the display, groaning, “Fuuh-ck~” Sliding the digit in knuckle-deep before slipping it out to the tip again – repeating the motion while feeling your muscles ripple around it. “You’re so cute, baby~ so pretty~”
He bows and places a chaste kiss on your buttcheek, laying his face on it like a pillow – his eyes half-mast while looking at his finger disappear inside you.
He works another in with the first, shuffling them – messaging the tightness, slowly training it to stretch. His hot breath fans over your wet skin, making you go goosefleshed.
“Fuck, baby – so pretty with my fingers inside yah~” He hums, almost in a whine while curling them inside you. “So fucking hot how you swallow and squeeze on ‘em like that~”
He pulls himself up again, tugging on his belt with one hand – keeping on fingering you with the other.
His pants drop to the floor a moment later, and he lifts his neglected cock out of the sticky mess he’d made in his boxers – throbbingly fat and hard, pulsing in his fist and leaking pre, another pearl each time he rubs over the bulge of his tip.
He looks at your hole – eyes misty. You seem to have loosened up a bit – enough for him to part his fingers.
He pulls them both out with a schlick. “I think you’re ready…” His voice is sticky – stuck to his throat. “I’m gonna try ‘n put it in.”
Your hands curl into the pillow as you nod your head – eyes still squeezed shut. It hadn't felt too bad so far – just weird. Embarrassing and… clinical. A bit like a doctor’s visit. But you knew that would all change now.
His hands glide across your back, catching your crop top in balled fists, stretching it as his tip works on stretching out your opening – nudging against it, coaxing it into accepting the head.
“Fuh- oh fuck~” He moans, lost to the sight and feel of your butt seizing around him – closing up around his tip.
You look so fucking perfect like that – face-down and kneeling with your ass pressed back against him – giving him your second virginity.
His eyes flitter across the slope of your spine – looking over your creamy skin, looking so pretty, all glossy with dew, until he reaches your face. Your brows are pinched together, gnawing on your bottom lip, eyes shut tightly.
“Are you okay?” He pants.
You nod your head – curt and rushed.
He suppresses a sound – feeling even more heated. You’re so perfect, so good to him – the best girlfriend he could have ever asked for. Trusting him like this, letting him do this even when you’re so nervous about it. You must really love him.
He’s nearly crying, holding onto your hips as he fucks you with just the tip – loosening the rim up and going just a little deeper for every shallow thrust. He nearly barrels over, standing there with his back hunched – bowing his head, looking at where the two of you connect while sweat drips from his weighted bangs.
“I love you, too.” He confesses out of the blue, and you blink, looking back at him – seeing his mouth parted with blissful moans, his eyes wet, and brows softly curled. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect fo’me – so good.”
He loves you so much he can barely take the blossoming in his chest, feeling like he wants to eat you up and swallow you whole. His girl – who laughs at all his silly jokes and holds his hand everywhere you go and doesn’t tease him when he yelps and holds you close during horror movies. His perfect perky girlfriend – who lets him fuck you raw and cum inside, and now… even letting him fuck your tight round ass for the very first time.
He's almost all the way in now – just a few more thrusts, and you’ll have him swallowed down to the base with his balls pressed firmly against the puffy lips of your wet pussy.
“Fuh-uuck-” He breathes out again, gripping your hips tight as he bottoms out.
He nearly cums right then, having to bite his lip to hold back – savoring how you ripple and squeeze him – so tight and firm.
You’re such a good girl taking him so well and so deep, lying so sweetly beneath him with your ass presented – letting him nestle his entire length inside you. Curling your toes all cutely as you adjust with only pretty girly mews leaving you.
You didn’t expect him to mount you.
But he does. Now standing with his feet in the bed, squatting over you with his cock sinking balls deep in your ass. Freshly broken-in, it’s tight and firm and twitchy as though it’s confused as to why there's a big fat cock stretching it out.
He can’t help but smile, perched on top of you – hands still hooked upon your hips for balance while he leans forward, settling even deeper.
You moan, and it nearly drives him wild. Barely holding himself together as he pulls out – wishing he had something to bite into instead of his lip as he focuses on the way your firm walls clench on him, clinging to his shaft so tightly it’s hard pulling out despite the wetness – it’s so good he’s losing it.
He’s taking his perfect girlfriend in her perfect ass. And it feels so fucking good his hands leave their grip on your hips as he slugs forward, bending over you until his chest presses into your back, and his head rests on top of yours, cheek to cheek – slinging both arms around you, putting you in a headlock – leaving you to do nothing else but pant, squished between his biceps and his cock kisses your guts.
“Can’t believe I'm fucking your little ass, baby.” He rants breathlessly. “It's so tight and good, gripping me so fuckin’ hard.” Huffing and groaning with his back hunched as he curves into your butt as deep as he can – stuffing into you from behind slowly and carefully as though he’s savoring every single flutter of you hugging him.
He’s barely even pulling out – kneading as far as his cock can reach instead – cock-warming himself inside you.
“Fuck, baby – I can cum inside, right?” He whimpers against you, kissing the corner of your mouth with his tongue out.
You’re so squished beneath him you can only just wheeze out the word. “O-okay-”
“Oh- fuck, I love you.” He cries when he blows, squeezing you so tight you’re choking as he pumps pulse after pulse of thick hot cum deep inside you. “I love you, I love you- love you- love you so much- so fuckin’ much-”
And you don’t know if it’s the confession, the headlock, or the cum being pumped up your guts – but your clit’s pulsing and your cunt’s twitching even though it’s around nothing, gushing down your shaking thighs as your butt pushes itself flush against your boyfriend’s cock, clenching hard around it and milking him free of every drop.
BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Touya, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio
JJK – Gojo, Choso, Yuji, Yuuta
HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins
AOT – Armin
and whomever else you imagined♡
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#yandere boyfriend#boyfriend#boyfriend scenarios#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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last part of virgin!Choso<3 (im gonna write more for him tho, just in other scenarios!!) other parts here: part 1 part 2 part 4
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
Virgin Choso who stands on his small balcony, looking over the city, a grey cloud creeping out between his lips.
Choso had taken up smoking. He’d asked Leiri about it when he’d seen her doing it, and she’d told him it helped her to relax. he’d bought a pack right after that. The first couple of times he’d coughed the smoke out. But now he does it smoothly, inhaling and exhaling the smoke with no problem. It makes him feel at ease even just for a moment, and lord knows he needs it right now. Humans are fucking weird he thinks, they’d jepordize their health for a little break from their troubles. Guess that doesnt sound so ridiculous now that he thinks about it. Either way hes a human now too, or a half one atleast.
he squeezes the cigarette into an ashtray and looks at the time when he hears the door bell ringing. Its late and you’re here.
he hears you running up the stairs, and when you get to the top you run to him, giving him a soft hug. His heart keens.
“hi Choso!” you smile and let go of him, he immediately misses the feel of you, “hey,” he mumbles.
“why do you smell like cigerattes?” you huff and your nose crickles. cute.
he raises his shoulders.
“i cant believe it…who taught u to do that huh?” you make a disappointed face and fold your arms, tapping your foot on the floor. And he knows youre just joking, you and Yuji have been using enough sarcasm around him for him to have a pretty good understanding of it.
“Leiri,” he shrugs.
“of course…that hag,” you grin. And you look so fucking adorable, in your little outfit, and the way you look when you smile makes him weak. He has your bag ready on the couch, he had washed your panties before putting everything back into it. But he can’t think about that now, or he’ll turn bright red.
he sighs “i made dinner,” he says, “if you’re hungry,” you stop infront of him and you almost look like youre gonna cry from happiness. “im starving,” you say quickly, “what did you make?”
He’d made rice bowls for you. your favourite. And you eat like a girl who’d gotten her first meal in months. Happily humming while eating your food.
Rather than focusing on eating his own bowl, he thinks about eating every meal of the day with you, sitting across from him.
when you’re done you put your plate in the sink and you yawn, you look adorable when you yawn, you look adorable when you do anything.
you turn around, “Choso?”
his heart skips a beat. he nods.
“it’s really late and um…dark outside and i don’t really want to walk home alone,” you look away, are you….blushing?
“is it okay if i stay here for the night?”
And hes heard the stories. About what happens to pretty girls when they’re alone at night and they don’t see the stranger walking behind them. And his fist clenches at the thought of someone being mean to you. He’s stronger than any human. he’d crush their fucking skull.
“you can stay,” he says quickly, a little too eagerly he realises. And you smile, “give me your plate,” you say, looking greatful that he let you stay, unknowing of the fact that he’d do just about anything if it meant your safety, or your happiness.
You start washing the dishes in his tiny kitchen, and when Choso tries insisting that he wants to help, you splash a bit of water on him. And you laugh so sweetly, when he jumps a little, trying not to get hit.
When youre done washing up, You both stand in silence for a while. For some reason its not as akward as it sounds.
“i will sleep on the couch,” he says,
“no Choso…id feel bad, you sleep in your bed,” you mumble.
You both argue like that for a while, and youre not letting up. stubborn little human.
you both get quiet for a moment.
“how big is your bed?”
“Queen size,”
“so why dont we just…sleep in it together?”
youre blushing slightly again. it must be his imagination.
And then he thinks about it. Friends sleep in the same bed sometimes right? you dont mean anything by it, he thinks, its just you being polite.
“i guess…we could do that yes,” he agrees.
you smile and nod, “okay,”
Choso excuses himself to go to the bathroom then, telling you to go ahead and get ready for bed.
He looks at himself in the mirror. He takes out his buns, his hair falling down to his shoulders. His eyes are dark and sunken. He looks dead he thinks. He looks down, “behave,” he says quietly, mostly to his heart, but also his dick.
he buries his head in his hands And He realizes he cant, he realizes the second he’s gonna look at you in his bed, he won’t be able to stop himself. to stop himself from confessing everything he feels, everything he’s done. that he thinks about you all the time, that you drive him insane, that he stole your pretty panties and came in his hand from the smell of your wet cunt.
When he rounds the corner of his bedroom, you’re sitting patiently on the edge of his bed, waiting for him.
“i am going to sleep on the couch, i don’t think this is a good idea,” he says it quickly, before he changes his mind, before its too late to go back.
you open your mouth to speak, hesitating a little.
“is it because of what yuji told me?”
his brain goes quiet. “what?”
“that you…that you like me?”
fuck. its over. he sighs angrily. that little fucki-
you stand and walk to him.
and when you put your hand on his chest, for a moment he forgets why hes mad, he forgets who he is and what year hes in. all he sees is you. And how close you are all of a sudden. and how youre leaning in, standing on your tippy toes, pressing your soft lips to his, in a short gentle kiss. His world stops for a moment.
And when he regains his senses, his instincts take over and he kisses you back ferociously, it’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but neither of you seem to care.
You walk backwards onto his bed, and you push him down so he’s sitting on the edge. He looks at you like a puppy dog, and his cheeks are flushed red.
When you sit down in his lap his dick twitches in his pants.
“i- i didnt think you…,” he stutters. he doesn’t really believe what’s happening.
“well i do,” you say, while cupping his face in your hands. “a lot,”
“can i…” he needs it he needs it he needs it, “can i eat your pussy?” he mumbles it quietly.
your eyes widen. fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, it was way too fast, you were just kissing.
“oh…uh okay,”
fuck. yes.
he lifts you up from his lap, and you skriek a little from surprise. He puts you down in a chair in the corner of his bedroom.
he gets on his knees infront of you and speaks quietly,
“i…im sorry i,” he sniffles a little, he’s so overwhelmed. And you’re letting him taste you.
you lean down and give him a kiss, biting your lip slightly.
“its okay…we can talk later, if you need it i’ll give it to you okay?”
And fuck he almost cries, and he buries his face in your lap. You shush him a little, caressing his hair. Hes hugging your legs.
He lifts his head, and you start unbuttoning your pants. Slowly sliding them down your hips as they fall to the floor. You spread your legs and he whimpers. Your panties are pink this time, and theres a big wet spot on them. And he doesn’t spare a second, he dives his head into your cunt, rubbing his face in it and licking at the wet spot desperately. you moan his name softly, and he cant help but grind his hard cock against the leg of the chair. Hes pathetic but he doesnt care, he wants you to feel good, he wants to make you cum on his face. He groans into your weeping pussy as he thinks about you cumming for him.
He pulls away a little, silently begging you to remove your panties. He wants to see your pussy so bad. His pussy.
You slide down your panties to reveal your soaked cunt. Choso almost growls. He looks up at you, asking for permission to keep going. you nod, your eyes half lidded. Spoiled little princess, he thinks, and thats exactly how hes going to treat you from now on.
he leans in again, kissing your pussy and it makes a wet sound. He licks his lips and groans deeply at your taste. He starts lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated puppy. He’s making out with your pussy now, swiping his tongue all over. You can tell he’s inexperienced, but it doesn’t matter, he’s doing such a good job.
you feel so good, his tongue is too much, its all too much. You love him so much. And you cum unexpectedly, crying out his name, begging him to keep going and he whines. You thrash around and Choso keeps you steady, his strong hands grasping your hips.
After youre done he keeps licking up your cum, making sure youre cleaned.
“Choso…stop, too much,” you say softly.
He pulls away.
His face is covered in your juices, dripping all the way down his neck. And he looks so happy. He stands up, like its on instinct. He needs to hold you.
He grabs you into his arms and plop down onto the bed, with you on his chest. He squeezes you into him, kissing your hair while you slide your panties on again.
“mine,” he says softly. youre his now.
You look up at him, searching his eyes, “Choso i wanna um…you know,” you gesture to his crotch. you want to make him feel good too.
but he looks away shyly. its embarrassing and pathetic, “i um..,” he sits up with you in his lap.
He doesnt feel hard under you anymore. And then it clicks.
“oh my god did you…”
he blushes furiously and nods, “its embarrassing,” he had cum in his pants the second he put his face in your bare pussy.
“no! no…it’s really…hot,” you reason and he looks less embarrassed. He looks into your eyes then, looks at your pretty little face and he already knows he wants you to be his forever.
“do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously.
you giggle and nod eagerly, jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck.
hes the luckiest man in the world he thinks. And you both fall asleep, you laying on his chest.
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
guys they didn’t actually fuck and i’m SORRY
now….part 4?? hey!!! HEY OKAY IM SORRY!! comment if yall want more ill do a lil short one where buddy ACTUALLY looses his virginity.
taglist:
@iqzo @multy-fandom-lover
#choso x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#choso#choso fluff#choso kamo#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x you#choso smut#kamo choso#kamo choso x reader
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tag dump: updating tags & new verses!
#✖character study║what’s worse? telling you my feelings or to die without revealing?#✖ask memes║these things have become nothing but plays on words like days of old they serve to instill fear & wonder in children#✖plotting call║autumn is marching on: even the scarecrows are wearing dead leaves#✖starter call║in a drop of your blood is there a shimmering resonance of the evening glow of this world’s sunset?#✖inbox call║it's not good to hide your wounds you know // i'm looking after you#✖affiliates call║as we rest here alone like notes on a page the finest to compose could not play our pain#✖shipping call║well i won't die for love but ever since i met you you could have my heart and I would break it for you#✖mains call║we touched heaven in the midst of hell we kissed the stars before they fell#✖modern verse║but if you knew you might not be able to see it again everything would become special & precious wouldn’t it?#✖anbu verse║it's like I'm leaving all my past & silhouettes up on the wall#✖defector au║i'm ready to lie but say i won't so tell me your secrets & join me in pieces to rot in this garden made of stones#✖survival au║fear is what beats inside her heart in the place where life used to be#✖main verse║there will come a time when you might have to decide who lives & dies out there / it’s a terrible responsibility#✖academy days verse║there’s some good in this world & it’s worth fighting for#✖ic║花の色はうつりにけりないたづらにわが身世にふるながめせしまに#✖open starter║others may forget you but i am haunted by your beautiful ghost others may forget you but i am haunted by your beautiful ghost#✖scheduled post║i hope saying goodnight doesn’t mean saying goodbye#✖queue║away on a mission#✖anonymous inquiries║what about all the times you said you had all the answers?#✖answered║these words are not used for anything else that’s why there is probably no reason to honor the promise from long ago#✖submitted post║of a summer that came and went / for one last nigh / a sign at least / remained#✖wishlist║忘れじの行く末まではかたければ今日を限りの命ともがな#✖saved║des souvenirs d’une patrie perdue de l’espoir d’une terre promise#✖promo║i believe that there is another world waiting for us a better world & i’ll be waiting for you there#✖self promo║you’ll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley as we walk in fields of gold#✖dash games║how can i blame the cherry blossoms for rejecting this floating world & drifting away as the wind calls them?#✖dash commentary║please forgive me oh mountain path of autumn#✖headcanon║i am not afraid to die but i am afraid to leave you here#✖visage║ひさかたの光のどけき春の日にしづ心なく花の散るらむ#✖music║again this evening ancient rain is singing the same ancient song
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Can I request something with popular bf Gojo and shy gf reader where reader is getting belittled and bullied by a group of girls and has been for a while, but doesn’t tell Gojo cause he doesn’t want her to worry, and sort of taking what they say to heart a little. Gojo notice this and eventually reader breaks down and tells him what’s going on
as soon as it starts, gojo notices something shifting in you immediately.
it’s not a visible nor a clearly sensible shift in your behaviour or appearance, yet somehow gojo is able to tell something is wrong and he is kind of proud of himself for that. yet the feeling of pride dims compared to the worry growing inside of him.
because you never tell him when something bothers you and he’s sure whatever is happening, he’s just not there to see it. you’re too embarrassed to say it to him since you don’t want him to worry, which sucks completely. it gets so bad, that satoru has to physically stop you from running away whenever he starts asking about what’s the matter, but you get overwhelmed easily and he lets go.
yet, this time he catches you right when you want to slip away; red eyes and shaking shoulders as you try to contain your sobs and run away from him so he doesn’t see, but he is quick to catch up to you in the empty hallway, caging you between his arms.
“let go, ‘toru—”
he gently tugs your hands away from your face, frowning at the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks , “no, tell me what’s wrong.”
“please, can’t we talk later?”
“no! stop running away from me!”
the way his voice cracks makes you shudder as you look up at him warily, finally realising that he’s hurt too. you stop resisting and hide yourself in his chest, sobbing violently while satoru holds you close silently. he moves around so he can slide down the wall and have you sit in his lap, arms only tightening around you.
“they…” you gaze at him through your wet eyelashes, voice a little shaky as your eyes bore into the worry splashing deeply in his, “they say mean things to me.”
“what kind of mean things?”
“all kinds of,” you mumble, eventually relaxing into his hold and letting him stroke your hair. “about my looks, my face, my stuff — just everything, y’know?”
he hums, hoping you’d continue.
“i know i should just ignore that, but then they start saying stuff about you and our relationship, and i can’t help but let it get to me? i know you love me, yet i… maybe they are right? maybe i am not good enough and you deserve more. prettier. funnier. smarter.”
you voice gets more and more quiet as you ramble about what’s been happening. and as you fiddle with your fingers, head hung low with staggered breathing, you’re unable to see how every single word you say nearly breaks satoru’s heart into a million of pieces.
“oh sweetheart.”
you look up at him, wiping the last of your tears. it seems like you’ve already come to terms with whatever the hell they were spewing at you and it makes satoru very angry. it has been going on for far too long, so long that it changed your brain chemistry and how you feel about yourself, and he hates it so so much.
“you are more than enough for me.”
you stare at him all wide eyed for a second before your face scrunches and you start crying once again, hot tears staining his hand as he wipes every single one of them. gojo cups your face gently and brings it closer to his so he can speak directly into your ear.
and he doesn’t spare any of his thoughts for you, letting you know that you’re everything he wants and he wouldn’t ask for anyone else; that you’re his favourite person in the whole world and he loves you very very much; that it hurts him that you’re hurting and are scared to tell because he’d do anything it takes to make you feel better. placing gentle kisses on your cheek since it’s so closer and he absolutely can’t resist you.
satoru doesn’t expect you to change your mind about everything in one day, but he’s ready to tell you those same words and more every single day if that’s what you need.
#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojou x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#satoru x reader#satoru x you
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Jealous. 🎀
pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
cw: mean dom!ellie sub!reader, jealous kinda toxic ellie, eating it through the panties, orgasm denial, spit play (literally spits down ur panties like), exhibitionism, some dude named michael.
an: pls be gentle, i haven’t written in a long time! 💗 credit to angel gbc for the mod used in the picture above <3
something we can all agree on is the importance of aftercare — right?
Ellie is big on that obviously, as she should. Caressing her slim fingers down your body, planting wanton kisses on your shoulders, running her palms across your shaky thighs, whispering words of encouragement in your ear;
“Did so good for me, babe”
“I love you, so much”
“Need anything? hm?” She’d murmur against your skin whilst cradling your body from behind.
And she always insists on cleaning you up. She consistently renders you nothing but an achy mess, dried up juices staining your wobbly jelly thighs, combined sweat on your breasts and ribs, back of your neck. The ritual of bringing a wet towel to bed, swiping it’s fabric across your inner thighs, your face, your behind — is a sacred one for her. Not solely because she loves hearing your sweet, exhausted sighs of relief as she cleans the soil away, but also not solely because she gets to see your naked body in all of its glory again.
It’s the act of taking care of what’s hers. In a way, when she wipes your cum away, she’s taking care of herself — too.
Here, lays a solid proof that she can break things apart and put them back together again. She’s not a total fucking fuckup.
The ability of making you scream and cry, then moments later have you whisper in that saccharine voice of yours an airy “love you s’much, Els…”
It’s fucking exhilarating.
She loves it every time, she does it every time.
But today… today you pissed her off. You poked the bear, for real this time.
There’s this new Michael guy in Jackson. He’s handsome, tall, has coal black curls that somehow stay soft and shiny even in this apocalyptic hellscape. He told Ellie and you where he was from, what he did, why he came. Ellie didn’t listen to a thing he was saying. It was like he turned into a fly and started loudly buzzing in her ear. He kept looking at you weird. Smiling at you, smirking, laughing at your jokes, even the ones that weren’t all that funny. She knows you have this affect on people, that damn charm, hell — you have this affect on her.
And she’s usually just playfully jealous, manages to keep it relatively tame and simple by tightening her grip on your waist.
But you just wouldn’t stop bringing him up. “Michael” this, and “Michael” that, “Michael invited us for dinner”, “Michael said this funny thing earlier”,
For all Ellie knows Michael could die in a ditch and she wouldn’t give a fuck.
You're on your way back home from the Tipsy Bison on a chilly Thursday night. Jesse was there, Dina, Maria... and Michael. She thinks of his name and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, tart, pungent.
"Meh, I'm more of a Tequila girl, Whiskey tastes like shit" you announced with a giggle. Michael rested his hand on your thigh, and agreed with a nod and a chuckle. For you, it meant nothing.
For Ellie, it meant everything.
Her blood pressure was usually low, steady, healthy as a bull. As of now, Ellie felt like she just ran a marathon. The blood rushed to her head and her brows furrowed without intention. She cracks her neck and moves it left and right, takes a long and burning sip out of her Whiskey and shuts her eyes. She repeats a mantra in her head; "I'm not angry, I'm not angry, It's fine."
But you're so damn intuitive.
"Els? y'tired?" you murmur towards your auburnette girlfriend. She suckles on her bottom lip and considers saying no, but she lies.
"Exhausted"
You leave the humble bar hand in hand, wrapped up in her big coat that smells of mint and wood and Ellie. She prays you won't mention his name, prays you could just go home and forget about this whole thing, but you do, innocently.
"Oh, Michael said one of the horses is sick, I'm thinking of helping out in the barn tomorrow an—"
She stops you mid sentence with a scoff and a tightening grip on your hand. "Oh, mhm, Michael said that?"
Her voice mocks your own a little.
You stop and shift your gaze towards Ellie who has her lips tucked in a tight line. Internally, she's cussing herself out. You don't deserve her anger, but she can't help herself. Your answer is an unsure hum. Her grip tightens even more, and it hurts your palm but you keep on walking side by side, quietly. Five minutes manage to pass with no words being muttered by no one. That's until she shakes her head and lets go of a husky chuckle.
"Did I do something?", you mutter doe eyed. Ellie stops in her tracks and inhales. She grabs you by your waist and walks towards you, making you have to clumsily pace backwards until your back meets a cold grey brick wall with a resounding thud. "Uhg!" You hiccup, breath catching down your throat. You even sweetly giggle, thinking in your head that this could possibly be just a sweet attack of PDA.
But her eyes are dark, gone from emerald to pine, pupils pitch black as big as a button. Her warm whiskey breath meets your nose and your top lip, you gulp. Why isn't she laughing? teasing?
"El?" your voice is still candied, always. Ellies mouth is agape, scarred eyebrows scrunched and furrowed as if she's confused, or pissed, or provoked. Her forehead meets yours so automatically, you attempt to connect your lips with a kiss but she backs away meanly. Albeit her taunting position, how intimidating and truly scary she looks whilst you're caged within her frame, your'e still smiling, you're still thinking she's just teasing.
You're not used to this, she knows, but god knows she yearns to teach you a lesson.
You don't fuck with what's hers.
She licks her bottom lip before she starts speaking.
"Take off your skirt"
Her voice nearly renders you drunk, It's huskiness, gruffness, it's depth, and really, you've only had one shot. Your cheeks heat up and your ears feel as if they're nearly burning. Her lips are so damn close to yours and she still won't let you kiss her.
"Wh... we're in public, we can't—" you stutter, eyes shifting downwards towards the knee she has shoved near your barely covered crotch. When she brings it upwards just to brush delicately on your inner thigh, you let go of a small gasp.
She responds to your gasp with a barely audible "Mhm?", her eyes sharpening with intent.
"Yes we can", she tsk's, and her voice taunts. Her eyes graze over your face, and you expect her next sentence to bite like the last one did, but her voice goes softer. "For me?", she cocks her head to the side.
And it simply pushes you over the edge.
You peel your skirt off of your body, asscheeks plastered over the brick wall as her body squeezes you further back, and you're left half naked with a piece of fabric scrunched below your knees, resting on your shoes. She eyes your body up and down, meeting your pleading and still confused eyes — and for a moment, thinks of just carrying you home and taking care of business once you get there. No jealousy, none of that.
But it's still bitter down her throat, and she can still picture his disgusting hand meeting your soft thigh, her soft thigh — as your body is hers, so that thought is ever so fleeting. It's either now or now.
Her cold as ice finger traces faint circles on your lower tummy, making the fine hairs of your body rise like soldiers. You whimper quietly as her finger snaps the elastic band of your panties and lets it smack down your pelvis. You rub your thighs together, but you're ever so pliant as she makes your legs spread wide with a boot covered foot opening up your calves like a gate.
She whispers in your ear. "Are you wet?", it makes you shiver.
"M'cold" you whine.
She scoffs.
She kneads your bra cup with her palm, squeezing an erect nipple with her thumb and middle finger. "Didn't ask that"
Her eyes meet your gaze and again she reconsiders this whole thing — because you truly look so needy, and your lips are so pouty and sweet and red with cold, you look as if you'd die if she didn't kiss you right now so how can she even be worried, let alone be jealous?
She knows how much you love her, how much you yearn for nobody but her, how her touch leaves you speechless time and time again.
But it's like something takes over, a dark figure, a figure that's thirsty and starving and wants to prove a thing it already knows.
It's an internal struggle, she doesn't want to be possessive,
She can't help it.
Your panties are striped with pink and white, and she looks at them as if they're the most expensive lace in the whole entire world. Her breathing gets heavier as she curls her fingers inside the cotton fabric, pupils darkening when she notices a sweet clear string of your arousal clinging from the entrance of your cunt to the bottom of your underwear.
She chuckles, followed by a sigh of relief that you notice. You are wet, right in the middle of the street where an innocent soul could catch you at any given moment. "Didn't answer cause you're shy?"
She knows you so well. You bite your lip and nod, butterflies fighting in the pits of your stomach. A chaste kiss on the lips is all you get from her, and you deeply whine into the air. "At least kiss me!" you beg, — god, you're so cute when you're pissed.
Before landing on her knees, Ellie looks from side to side in order to check that there's truly nobody around, and no — not because she's scared to get caught, but because she'd die before she let someone see her girlfriend half naked with her skirt down her thighs.
Ellie is face to face with your quivering, pantie covered cunt. A wet patch greets her — a fuckin' pleasure, one she can't help but swipe her tongue across. Your choked up, terrified sound of a moan is a symphony to her hears, fuck Mozart. Her eager muscle of a tongue is so warm against your pussy you nearly forget it started snowing yesterday.
You buck your hips inwards, she groans. "No moving", she warns — simply to assert a dominance that has already been asserted. She kisses your little clit, coo's at the way it slightly pokes out of the fabric, erect and pumping on her tongue. "Ellie... Ellie... Ellie", you babble like a prayer, which she nods to. "S'my name, that's fuckin' right", she groans as her husky voice is muffled by your soaked panties.
"Ellie..." you repeat, thighs beginning to ache as you try and spread them further apart, almost sitting on her face.
Ellie, not Michael.
She smiles, greedy, triumphant.
She flicks her tongue on your clit, once, twice, three times before biting on your meaty pussy lips. You bite your knuckles in order to keep your voice down, but she glares up at you. "Do that again n'I swear to god I'm stopping" she growls.
You're not used to this side of her at all, but her voice makes your hole leak a small stream from deep inside. She feels it's wetness on her tongue, eyes closing in ecstasy as she audibly suckles your sweet, tangy, heavenly juices from the now sheer fabric. Her own spit runs down her chin, she doesn't even bother to wipe it off. All you can hear are your breathy, whiney moans, tiny begs of "take 'em off, please", regarding your panties, and Ellie's throaty groans. You're so wet from your own juices and her saliva it nearly gets uncomfortable, but then again you're so goddamn close to cumming.
You try taking matters to your own hands, attempting to peel off your panties from your waist with a shaky hand but she snarls and slaps your wrist away.
"Nuh uh, pussy's fuckin' mine, don't touch it"
With relentless sucking on your drenched clit, and soiled panties, she opens her eyes to merely glare at you again with a warning look. "When you're close, you let me know" she bites.
You don't respond.
A stinging slap meets your pussy, which makes your thighs shake, whole body jolt, and throat ache with a high pitched yelp.
"You're not listening" Ellie warns.
"You listen when I talk" she warns again. Her tongue meets your clit and it pushes it further and further up. You shake, eyesight gone blurry, you're close, you know it by the way the coil down your stomach threatens to snap, and by the way it tickles down there so damn bad.
"M'close" you brokenly wail.
She grunts deeply and stops completely. your heart nearly breaks, no no no no no. "Ellie, Ellie, Els, no!" You try and buck your hips forward but she holds you in place with an iron like grip. You buck them again and she peels off the fabric of your underwear, slightly rising up as she stares inside at the mess she made of you. There's a devilish smirk that creeps up from her lips, apple of one cheek rising. You let out a sigh of relief, thinking that perhaps she'll actually fucking eat you out properly instead of letting you suffer inside a warm, wet material of a mess that truly doesn't look like something wearable anymore. Instead, she audibly spits inside with a "Ptu'", letting the band snap shut. Her saliva mixes with your warm sleek. You're so confused she nearly feels bad, but she's such a cunt that she really doesn't.
"Were going back inside," she murmurs so casually as if she didn't just fuck you up in the middle of the street, as if her chin isn't shiny with your precum.
"N'if Michael puts his hand on you again, I'm eating it in front of him"
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you
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So This Is Love
jason todd x fem!reader
aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.
You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.
But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.
You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.
“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.
“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.
You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.
He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.
You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing.
“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply.
“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears.
“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”
All he can do is nod.
You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.
“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.
“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”
He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.
The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.
But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.
There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe.
He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead.
He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”
“No, I do not.”
But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.
The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.
His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.
“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.
You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”
He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”
You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.
“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement.
“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance.
You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.
“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.
In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”
“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.
You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”
Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”
You turn your head towards him, “No?”
He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that.
“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”
His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.
You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.
“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.
He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.
You laugh, “Really?”
He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”
“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.
“In my shirt.” He confirms.
You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now.
“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”
You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”
He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.
You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.
You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.
He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.
“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.
“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support.
“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.
He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”
He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place.
“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance.
He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.
He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”
You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!”
But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it.
He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.
Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.
Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.
Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.
This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor.
You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.
It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him.
You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.
“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.
You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”
He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”
You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”
He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.
You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”
“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.
“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.
You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.
Before you crash out, you mumble out, “I’m going to be a little passive aggressive in the morning, though.”
“I’d hope so.”
Jason didn’t get it at first.
Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.
Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.
Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.
It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.
You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.
You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.
You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.
His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.
“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.
He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.
“What was that?”
You look at him, “He dropped his books.”
“Yeah, I saw. But why—”
His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”
You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.
A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.
He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.
“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.
Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”
The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.
He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.
He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.
It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.
“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.
He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.
He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.
He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.
Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?
Do you?
There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.
He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”
The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.
You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood x you#jason todd/reader#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#red hood fanfic#red hood fanfiction#dc x reader#dc imagine#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction
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good boy.
art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)
summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC
warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating
author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are
————————————————————————
You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.
She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."
Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.
"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.
This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.
"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"
Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"
Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.
Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.
"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.
Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.
Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.
It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.
"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.
Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.
So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.
He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.
A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.
'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'
She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.
'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'
Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.
“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.
Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.
Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.
"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.
He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."
His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.
"I want to hear it from you."
"I felt fine."
Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.
"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.
You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.
"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.
You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.
"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"
'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."
Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.
"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.
Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."
Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"
You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.
"Look at me."
He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.
His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.
Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.
"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."
The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.
Art Donaldson lived to be praised.
You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"
Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.
"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.
You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"
Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.
"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."
Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.
Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.
His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.
Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.
When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.
His breath is shallow—anticipatory.
"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.
"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.
"You know you don't have to ask."
There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.
It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.
Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.
Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction.
You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.
His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.
“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”
You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.
“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.
Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.
Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.
#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x y/n#challengers#challengers smut#art donaldson smut#challengers imagine#challengers x reader
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